Metal Underground.com

It can be tough to differentiate between the unholy number of albums and demos that are piling up higher and higher on this computer desk, as the dog days of summer transcend into the crisp fall season. The challenge is listening to all of them and not only retaining something worthwhile, but finding a hint of creativity or forward thinking that truly stands out. Bridalveil’s first EP, “The Death Of Us,” stands out, but for all the wrong reasons. It is very difficult to make this reviewer actually despise and loathe a band based on only four songs, but Bridalveil isn’t just any plain, run-of-the-mill band. This is awful, wretched, disgraceful, and terrifying, all at the same time.

According to their MySpace page, Bridalveil plays a metallic, post-hardcore sound. That would be an accurate statement, if metallic, post-hardcore means whiny clean vocals, lame, faux aggressive riffs, and laughable screams. This is bottom of the barrel as far as metal goes. The only song that could even qualified is closer “Ambition,” which is about as metal as a kitten’s purr. The terrible production neuters any punch the guitars could have, as well as makes a cringe-worthy EP even worse.

It’s been a while since an EP has had so many unintentionally hysterical moments. Try to keep a straight face as the singing goes from what must have been a lost Panic At The Disco! vocal track into a piercing out-of-tune scream that is deemed fit to repeat twice over for no reason. Stifling a laugh won’t be easy when the sloppiness virus plagues “Betrayer,” killing musical hopes and dreams in its path. Any illusions of light beckoning from the darkness are unwarranted; there is no bouncing back from adversity towards greatness in the cards for Bridalveil.

This UK quintet has only been together for about a year-and-a-half and it shows as plain as day on “The Death Of Us.” The only positive remark on the musical side is that the band members know how to turn on their instruments; anything else is a toss-up. With simple rhythmic work, guitar riffs that are about as meaty as a bacon, egg, and cheese hot pocket, and a tiny, hollow production, this EP is arduous to get through, even though it barely hits the ten-minute mark.