It’s best to approach Lucky Me as an experiment rather than experimental. The compelling aspect of the disc, as well as being its most glaring detractor, is that it finds the band seeking their most essential and immediate expression; it’s hardly finished, but should it be? This question is all the more pertinent when dealing with Killing The Dream, the musicians that famously- scarily - draw from a well of neverending feeling. These sonic ideas are quickly etched into the material of the songs with fragments of afterbirth intact, a coarse performance that features as many holes as rich brushstrokes. And make no mistake, it is impressionistic hardcore, from tone to content – Lucky Me‘s first statements feel like the initial formations of a riff in the subconscious, a first line of pencilled lyrics before being erased, with rhythm dreamily ambling to encapsulate it all. It is for these reasons that Lucky Me is immensely valuable, but often unfortunate for a band that has shown the greatest of all aptitudes in performing strong-willed and fiercely felt hardcore.
Although they are thankfully still unsafe to approach, this album speaks to a tranquilized KTD (something I am sure many will disagree with); a majority of closer “Black” embraces an ethereal quality, and best emphasizes Lucky Me’s dilemma – the effects-driven noodling motif that lends it a transcendental gait is still too disconnected and subconscious to appreciate. It ambles through the other songwriting faculties as a fresh but limbless accessory. Maybe it’s selfish to find this unsatisfying, but that risk is par for the course when participating with a genre that is motivated by emotional catharsis. Conversely, “Hell Can Wait” sees a strong, sinewy attack on behalf of the band, managing to dish out a hazy neo-hardcore mosher akin to The Carrier. It’s the strongest moment on Lucky Me, less for its welcomed extremity and more for its return to a stricter songwriting ethos. On the unfortunate side of things, “Part IV (Sinner’s Future)” is nowhere near as memorable as it should be, and occupies just over a precious minute of the disc’s already strained length (to be fair, the band’s strongest, In Place Apart, was this length of under 20 minutes as well). “Testimony” is another curve-ball, but the adoption of melodious singing feels too much like a prepackaged stab at artistic merit than a natural approach – odd, as the overall body of this album seems rooted in producing the most immediate reflections of emotion and writing.
It’s a hard album to demean, especially in relation to the clinically precise writing, performance, and produced execution of countless other bands flooding the community with nary a moment of emotional reflection in their hour-plus “progressive” opuses. The issue is that, while I can credit Killing The Dream for being definitive in the music-making process even if their album is not, the band’s faculties simply do not suit this. They were cursed with being the best at what they do, and as a plus, Lucky Me puts their earlier work into a greater context of quality.
Note: Make sure you get a closer look at that album cover – Not only does it compliment KTD’s primary color motif, but if it weren’t for the cover of You Fail Me, Lucky Me would surely be the crown jewel of Deathwish’s stable of classic artwork.
(6.5/10)
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