As
burgeoning and promising the heavy rock scene has become in
Australia, there has got to be a line drawn in the sand at some
point. Unfortunately, it seems that for every act like Dead Letter
Circus or Cog that do great things on both a musical and commercial
basis, another five to ten acts will spawn a self-involved,
derivative take on what so many acts before them have done. Sydney
band Blatherskite are such a band, having just released one of the
most truly vapid, disenchanting and downright boring albums of the
year with their debut, Where
the Wasteland Ends.
How
fitting that the definition of “blatherskite” is “a person who
talks at great length without making much sense.” For all their
long-winded self-indulgence that takes nearly an hour to get through
on
Wasteland

practically everything sounds the same – and, indeed, very little
of it makes much sense. 

Bred
from a scene that makes music that's heavier than your standard
rock-gig fare but not heavy enough for a lot of metalheads,
Blatherskite end up making a kind of music that lends little appeal
to either end of the spectrum. It's a sound that's beefed-up and
blokey, yet never quite takes off – far too much time is instead
spent circulating around formulaic structure and wading through the
same churning guitars you've been hearing since
Ænima.

It
is understood that the better acts of the genre bring an expansive
nature to the sounds that define it, in addition to bringing your own
stamp of identity. Not the case with Blatherskite – nothing new is
offered here. Whether it's the quasi-anarchic lyricism, the stagnant
follow-the-guitar basslines or the repetitive, weak riffs, there's a
good chance that not only have you heard what the band are doing
before, you've heard it done better.

The
fact that Blatherskite have made a bad record does not necessarily
reflect on them as bad musicians. Sure, vocalist Nick Goryl's
attempts at harsh screams and shouting are downright ugly – opening
track “Majestic” is practically unlistenable because of this –
but he knows his way around cleaner melodies quite well. This is
evident in slower number “FYC,” which also displays some
proficient guitar work from Tim Lim and Mat Newton, as Goryl finds
his footing in a wispy croon. A fleeting moment of interest, however,
is not enough to make up for a record that you may find near
impossible to get through in its entirety more than once.

Where
the Wasteland Ends
is not a

This
is The Warning
,
nor is it

The
New Normal

It's not even a

Final
Conversation of Kings.

All it really makes itself out to be is far grander and much more
engaging than it actually is – a prog-by-numbers snooze that will
only appease diehards of the genre. How many more bland excercises in
downtuned monotony will we have to experience before these bands
learn?

Review Score: 4/10