Charlie Drown: Silent Rizing CD Review

Empress Of The Extreme...Charlie Drown!!

Transmission:

I sat there, my head wrapped in sonic assault. There was no escaping this trip. It's like the first time you did acid at a horror movie. The killer was coming for you. Demons waited underneath you. The Gods were waiting to exact their revenge on you and on the other side of the door, the gaping maw of some huge beast that wanted to devour and digest you over the course of centuries. Every moment of this CD is nerve-shattering and without mercy.

Charlie Drown's music was brought to my attention a year ago. I've been trying to get some of her music on my show ever since. I had no idea what I was getting into.

I woke up to the CDs sitting on my lounge still in their padded envelope with the return address listed as Charlie Drown. I smiled. It was time to put myself through the sweet masochism of letting the sounds punish me. I had no idea what the earlier stuff sounded like so it was the first to go into the CD-ROM drive. I placed headphones on my head to keep the sounds from disturbing Rayne, who was talking with a friend on the phone. Protecting myself wasn't a measure I cared to take.

That's when the sound of Charlie Drown's "Empress (Intro)" hit me. It was like heralding all-encompassing, impending doom. The visual of dead relatives crawling toward me with knives in their teeth haunted me. It would be a slow procession of them and they'd keep coming until the nuclear blast-wave of "Dominhater" exploded. Suddenly, I was propelled in the most delightfully horrible trip since Hurricane Rita.

This is the nature of the Charlie Drown Beast. It doesn't forgive or apologize. Silent Rizing reassures you of that much. This full-on, all-out, knock-down, drag-out audio assault offers no quarter and expects none in return. Simon Crowell would die a slow, horrible and messy death in the process of critiquing this album.

This is non-stop, harsh and unreality at it's best. Songs like "Fame," "Dedd Phukk," and "Betrayer" offer you a nice dosage of unerring strikes. The guitars drive, the drumbeats pound with nearly apocalypse-style doom-laden intensity and the bass snarls. Charlie's Vocals? Her vocals are the "Fuck You" to the world that it so desperately deserves and (dare I die a roundhouse-kick related death) is enough to tell Chuck Norris to lay the fuck down and make him do just that.

Lord Genocyde's Bottom Line:
This CD is for the closet-case self-masochist and anyone else who enjoys this level of intensity. The songs are well-put together, unflinching and bold. Anyone involved in the making of this particular album should be proud of themselves...for this is bigger than even the band. This CD is the beginning of a legacy of abuse inflicted and received. To sum it up: It's Beautiful Work.