The Fall of Troy: In the Unlikely Event...

Normally, we don't herald technical ability as the be-all-and-end-all of music. The mere fact that in music shops around the world, there are a million douchebags playing riffs from twenty years ago, still talking about "their band" would lend this credence.

Over the years, The Fall of Troy have time and again maintained a balance between technical ability and attention to melody, never better exemplified than on their stunning single "F.C.P.R.E.M.I.X". The concoction of layered guitar effects, kinetic riffs, complex mathematical structures and diverse vocals - ranging from ethereal sustains to guttural screams - gave the trio a huge palette from which to draw.

None of which explains why In the Unlikely Event... is so ridiculously dull.

You could feasibly argue that the harsher elements of the band's sound have been toned down, but it'd come down to the wire on a scream-for-scream comparison chart. Yet throughout the album, there are precious few surprises, very little excitement and a severe drought in the realm of memorable passages. This could be the dictionary definition of 'going through the motions'.

There are attempts at straying outside of the band's comfort zone. Finale "Nature Vs. Nurture" fills its mid-section with a spoken-word section of gradually increasing intensity, it's nothing that Nada Surf didn't do a zillion years ago, but it is still a nice change of pace. Such variation is short-lived, since the song quickly tails off into a slow-solo with backing "whoa-ohs". Even when it un-spools in the final seconds, it's a move which has been telegraphed since the dawn of time.

The most profound moments of thought we had throughout the duration of In the Unlikely Event were usually along the lines of, (1) Hey, he's singing like a female opera singer there, (2) This kinda sounds like the Twilight Zone, or (3) Where did I put my copies of Manipulator and Doppelganger? with the detour of option 3 usually leading to (4) Phew, they weren't always this prosaic.

Toned down, lacking imagination and repeating the same formulas over and over again. Like a high-school romance, you've realised that all the passion is gone and the object of your affection derives actual pleasure from watching The Hills and Jeremy Kyle, you still love the person that they were, but they are no longer the same entity.

There's a thin black line which lurks on the boundary of math-rock. On one hand, you want to push the boundaries of musical structure, on the other hand, you do not want to remind your listeners explicitly of the feeling they used to have during actual maths lessons.

Veering blindly from slightly-irritating noodling, to cliché hardcore riffs and alternating between a-melodic clean vocals and repetitive screams with little motivation behind them this is leaning strongly towards the latter of the two options, except imagine that it was that maths lesson where you learned about quadratic equations. They all seem to end the same way and are completely pointless unless you're planning to shoot yourself in the face from a very remote distance.