MY RUIN – The Brutal Language

The Brutal Language is the latest offering from My Ruin. Tairrie B., lead vocalist, is known for her spoken word diatribes as well as her Metal shrieking, so it should come as no surprise that the disc starts with a spoken passage. However, you may be worried when you start this disc, asking yourself if the brutal from The Brutal Language is in reference to the music or to the brutality of the boring oratory?

Fortunately, with the second track the spoken word performance is put aside for some loud and aggressive music. Lead guitarist Mick Murphy plays thick and droning guitar riffs that are reminiscent of early Sabbath. Bassist Meghan Mattox and drummer Yael departed prior to recording The Brutal Language but not to be daunted Murphy himself stepped up to the plate as not only bassist but drummer; adding a solid no frills backbeat that thickens like a fine rue. Tairrie sounds like an angry Joan Jett on “Silverlake 65:71,” then descends into a Death Metal screeching during “The Devil Walks.” The way she maneuvers between the singing and the screeching and the sometimes spoken vocals is truly an amazing feat.

Ten songs of a mostly evil nature comprise The Brutal Language; songs like “Summer in Hell” and “Imitation Christ.” Although there seems to be a humorous side to the band with the track “Vince Vaughn,” it is hard to tell if the lyrics are relating to the casual bad boy likeness of Vaughn, or if the words Vince Vaughn just rhymed well with the chorus. Either way, the song is catchy and Tairrie sticks with her actual singing voice, making the song more appealing to a wider audience. The other notable stand out on this disc is the Mudhoney cover of “Touch Me I’m Sick,” which sounds a lot fuller and, yes, more brutal than the original.

Coming in at a little over thirty minutes, The Brutal Language is short and to the point. The tempo of the disc is very constant and offers neither a neck-breaking thrasher, nor any type of ballad; just straightforward rockers with screeching vocals and blistering leads. Tairrie is passionate and delivers with a lot of gusto, but it isn’t pretty; melody is far removed. Your penchant for vocalists, or screeching antagonists, will help you decide whether to add this disc to your collection.