Album Review: Corey Taylor - 'CMFT'
For my generation (insanely baggy jeans and dog collars anyone?) Corey Taylor needs little introduction. For those that like to make me feel old, he’s best known as the masked frontman of contemporary metal legends Slipknot. With that out the way, it may come as something as a surprise that Taylor harbours a softer, more melodic side as well.
In fact, he’s more multifaceted than one might expect, and CMFT, his debut solo album, is an exploration of that. 13 tracks long, with each track loosely employing a different aesthetic from the next, it showcases Taylor’s interests and influence in a way few other records do for their creators.
This in itself is a double-edged sword. While there are moments here that truly soar, these, by and large, come in the record’s latter half, meaning CMFT is a record that misses, almost as often as it hits.
Of course, its opening half does have saving graces, namely in the form of single ‘Black Eyes Blue’ , three minutes of Stone Sour-eque alt-rock that throbs with a quiet intensity but isn’t afraid to showcase a vulnerability also. Elsewhere things aren’t quite as promising.
Opening “HWY 666” feels like Taylor’s own version of “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” while “Samantha’s Gone” and “Halfway Down” feel like paint-by-numbers blues rock – good fun in a live setting but does little to pique interest never mind push boundaries.
Thankfully things pick up before all interest wains. “Culture Head” is a rumbling and frenetic offering that harks back to the industrial basslines of bands such as Fear Factory and Coal Chamber, its lose weight offset against the wah-wah’d guitars. Following track “Everybody Dies On My Birthday” is another heavy offering that’s not dissimilar to some of Slipknot’s later material.
Conversely, perhaps the record’s most interesting if not heaviest moment comes after its lightest. “CMFT Must Be Stopped” quickly follows the piano-balladry of “Home”, and harbours more than its fair share of nu-metal throwbacks. Featuring Tech N9ne and rapper Kid Bookie, it’s pure unadulterated rap metal, and thankfully more Public Enemy and Anthrax than it is Fred Durst.
CMFT is an interesting album, and it will certainly earn itself fans. Take it with a pinch of salt, and it’s a record to throw on, have a few beers and remember how much easier life was twenty years ago. Critically however, CMFT feels too erratic to ever really take hold. And though its standout moments are certainly memorable, they’re too sporadic to make the record an instant classic.
Words by Dave Beech