Orange 9MM
Pretend I'm Human
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Orange 9MM
Pretend I'm Human
Zomba/Reunion, 1999
RiYL: Burn, Fahrenheit 451, Rage Against The Machine |
After a Don Fury-produced EP for Revelation Records, the band's major-label debut followed a year later. Splitting the progressive hardcore path set by Quicksand, it could have been a huge record had Sick Of It All's "Step Down," CIV's "Can't Wait One Minute More" and Quicksand's "Thorn In My Side" not been such commercial disasters.
It seems silly now to think hardcore could have gone mainstream, but it was given a good chance. The overlooked Driver Not Included combined O9mm's harsh, riff-heavy hardcore with the big studio production of Dave Jerden (Social Distortion, Alice In Chains, Jane's Addiction). A number of tracks offered a smarter version of the head-bobbing thrash recently made fashionable by Korn, Limp Bizkit and the Deftones.
Where both the old EP and Driver benefited from the assistance of producers Fury and Jerden respectively, 1996's aptly-titled and utterly terrible Tragic was totally unfocused. Lay the blame at the feet of producer D. Sardy, who distorted Malik's vocals so carelessly and constantly as to make them almost inhuman and robotic. The record's lone highlight was "Failure," which was on MTV's "120 Minutes" once or twice and at least proved the band could write a groovy, potential hit single.
Orange 9mm does two things on Pretend I'm Human, its first full-length since Tragic and subsequent discharge from its label. Certain tracks continue the talk-loud-say-nothing aspects of Tragic, but there's a darker, wonderful band emerging. Malik has ditched hardcore altogether for passable raps, spoken words and electronic subtexts, which is too bad because though not as vocally silly as Shaq, Mase or the No Limit crew, no one will ever confuse his MC skills with Rakim, Guru or Common.
Hints of a hip-hop-core have loomed since the beginning, but were necessarily suppressed by brutal hardcore rants. Like Downset, Kid Rock, Hard Corps and a host of others who combine rock and rap so poorly, songs like "When You Lie," "Lifeless" and the title track are classic examples of the regression between 1995 and now.
The once powerful, developed and textured guitars and bass loops here revolve around noisy yet boring riffs. Lineup changes certainly have played a role: there have been four bassists, two guitarists and two drummers in this band in the past five years. Malik has remained the only constant, but even he has changed.
But underneath the cliched riffs and jumbled lyrics lies a more pensive, fragile and ultimately superior Orange 9mm. The semi-acoustic, almost orchestral "Touching Skies," and "Tightrope," are the band's best songs in years (probably ever) and make me forget every reason Malik should have stayed hardcore. "Touching Skies" features typically awkward lines like "Planting bugs in my mental / I erase you like a pencil" (pencils write, erasers erase, Arnold Schwarzenegger wasn't the "Penciler," was he?). But the serene guitars mixed with the biting lyrics gives hope that Malik still has much hype left. It's the one time the raps flow smoothly instead of stutter-step.
Vocally, "Tightrope" is like Tricky meets Living Colour's Corey Glover, merged with the darkest and most minimal elements of Nine Inch Nails. Malik transforms from sweet to harrowing, ending with the line "I wish I could see the future" repeated 18 times, each more contagious and gripping than the last. It's such a mysterious line because he's never openly hopeful, cynical, pitiful or anxious. That future may be undetermined, but judging by these two songs, the path Orange 9mm should follow seems clear: Talk soft. Say everything.
ROB BERNSTEN |