Spring Break
Head to Head Review: Cartel- "Cycles"
JESSICA BROWN and JOHN BARRETT
Issue date: 11/3/09 Section: Variety
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By JESSICA BROWN
All the diehard fans breathe a sigh of relief that the boys of Cartel decided to take it back to what works, in the vein of "Chroma" - the pop-punk party that makes it impossible not to copy and paste the lyrics of for a Facebook status at least once. The sophomore effort was definitely missing that "let's bind together in this hot and sweaty moment at a concert, screaming lyrics that mean more to us than we'd like to admit."
"Cycles," Cartel's third album, is a spectacular trip down memory lane. The entire lyrical and emotional base of "Cycles" reminds the fans of why they loved Cartel in the first place and the high school yearnings from which those lyrics sprung forth.
The first track sets the tone directly:
"Let me reintroduce myself, as a man with a cause," Will Pugh sings with the care and intensity that truly drives those words home.
"Deep South" is a song that needs no history behind it to give you immediate goose bumps. As far as heartfelt love melodies - will anything be as good as "Minstrel's Prayer"? Maybe not, but "Only You" comes pretty close, with a soft and simple guitar and repetitive but lovely lyrics.
VERDICT: Overall, "Cycles" hits the mark that Cartel strayed from on the sophomore album, while still trying inventive and fresh contexts and sounds.
Hated it.
By JOHN BARRETT
With its third album, Atlanta pop-punk quintet Cartel reaffirms it has nothing even remotely fresh to bring to the table. The over-polished, generic guitar chords and emo-styled vocals of opener "Let's Go" tell listeners all they need to know about Cartel: a group of derivative rockers manufactured for the faux-angst-filled teeny-bopper demographic that apes Fall Out Boy and Hawthorne Heights (both terrible bands in their own right).
The jagged power-chord chug of "Faster Ride" morphs predictably into a smooth chorus featuring overwrought vocals given the full-on Pro Tools false harmony treatment. "The Perfect Mistake" serves as the inbred cousin of "Sugar, We're Goin' Down," while "Only You" is so sappy it could be considered a legitimate cause of diabetes.
As is the case with most bands of this nature, all the songs on "Cycles" blur together into an indistinguishable sea of cookie-cutter pop-punk and third-rate balladry that lacks any semblance of originality.
Because of this, one can literally predict the way each song unfolds to a T: subdued verses, overwrought choruses, lyrics about kissing girls and other trite high school-y themes.
VERDICT: You could find more musical depth if you were to stick your head in a toilet bowl.
