People reading this review are expecting a proverbial bash-fest where I wring the shit out of this band’s utterly misogynistic, immature, and entirely outrageous brand of southern generic sludge-core that usually only hooks those whose high school days aren’t yet behind them. Although semi-true, this isn’t entirely the case, as my job as a reviewer is to be as objective as possible and although Attila makes this difficult, it can be done. About That Life is a proclamation of, well, being about that life. Clearly they are. The life – being an embodiment of smoking weed, fucking sluts, talking shit in plain sight of their peers and partying, among other things – is what they achieve, whatever that is.
If anything by this band has ever hit your earholes, you know it already. Breakdowns, vocalist Chris “Fronz” Fronzak’s rap growl, and relatively uninteresting musicianship. Rather then send them through the meat grinder and into a future song as a non-obscure reference, I’ll start with the positives. The record was produced by the usual Joey Sturgis, whose patented blend of direct-in guitar tones, mostly programmed drums, and glitch-chops is on point as usual. Everything in the spectrum is able to be heard; it’s clean, concise, and done well. This isn’t unexpected of course, but is one of the things that gives the record any listenability.
Although not as plentiful as I would have liked (although what are we really wishing for here?), the musicianship on a number of the songs does get interesting, namely guitar solos (“Rageaholics,” “Backtalk,” “Shots for the Boys”) and drum work. The bass is slappy and inspiring. The drums are typical and nothing to rave about, although at times they do work to actually build the song up to some kind of point rather than coast in mediocrity.
Fronz gets his own paragraph because the content of his contribution to the band is both insanely necessary to their survival and entirely irrelevant. The argument here is whether or not he writes all of the lyrics, but because I’m not sure whether band input as a whole is a thing, or Fronz thinks of all these (numerous) topics in between sexcapades and being blazed while living in America (that last part is a direct lyric reference), who knows. Vocally, his screams are on point and he’s still got it the way he’s always had it – lows, highs, the rap-scream, it works. Lyrically, he’s a regular gumball machine of one-liners, although oftentimes the machine takes your quarters and then spits in your face and tells you to suck its cock. I enjoyed parts of this (not that last part) because the obscenity is nothing to take too seriously, although the Westboro Baptist Church certainly did (See “Callout”). Speaking of that song, Fronz calls out several high-profile “musicians” who in many lights are just as disgraceful as him (Ronnie Radke, Jonny Craig, Christofer Drew). It’s all pretty humorous, but when are they not? Only when Fronz is being ridiculously insensitive towards women, or people in general, but I will say that hearing the phrase “suck my fuck” in a song is a real ringer (“About That Life”).
Rather than use the context of my review to name off one-liners that are what many of you listen for, I’ll leave that to you. I have never taken Attila too seriously, and even on this record I still don’t and likely never will. In my playlist, this record will likely never surface again except through a mistake made by Spotify radio. I will give Attila one thing – they know controversy and they do a good enough job of generating it to keep their label happy. About That Life is misguided and inadequate selling material, but the kids will eat it up anyway.