Album Review by: Mathew Mahr
Panic! at the Disco used to be a band made up of four talented musicians. Formed in 2005, the quartet performed impressive pop-punk with interesting string arrangements and layered lyrics. In 2022, three of those band members have gone their own way. Who does that leave?
Brendon Urie.
Despite being a one-man band, Brendon has gone ahead and released a new album under the Panic! at the Disco name. The reason I wanted to review this record is because I’m utterly fascinated with the reception this record received.
Maura Johnson from Rolling Stone magazine called the album “…an Audacious Classic-Rock Throwback…With a Heart!”. Pop-Punk magazine Kerrang! gave the album a score of 4/5, as did Ali Shutler from British magazine NME.
Meanwhile, 934 users of music rating site Rate Your Music rated the album at an average of 1.63 stars out of 5. If you search “Brendon Urie” on twitter, it’s all people making fun of him and trashing the album.
How did this happen? How did we manage such a disconnect between longtime fans and critics? Is the album as bad as fans are claiming? Is it as good as critics are claiming? Is it even worth my time?
Well, I’m going to find out so that I can help you decide if it’s worth your time as well.
The first track is the title track, Viva Las Vengeance. I’ve seen fans of the band on social media do a bit of a 180 on this song. While it seemed poorly received upon release, many have deemed it the best song on the album relative to a poor track list. I’ll give the song this: it is certainly an earworm. I’ve found this song occasionally stuck in my head since it came out.
I did not enjoy my day when this happened.
There really isn’t much to this song. Many old Panic! songs have these interesting concepts and references. Ryan Ross’ lyrics didn’t always slap you across the face with meaning the first time you heard them, but they could be examined. There was a ton of thought that went into them. This song though, I don’t know what any of this means and I’ve spent days reading and rereading these lyrics. It really seems like he thought of a couple of cute lines and just threw them into a song.
Middle of a Breakup doesn’t do much for me lyrically either. Brendon has often sounded best singing about cheesy love and sweet nothings. Even on classic Panic! songs like Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off, I’ve been turned away by Brendon trying to be sexy. It didn’t work in 2005 when Brendon was 18 and it definitely does not work now that Brendon is 35.
In this song we learn that Brendon and his unnamed female companion are no good for each other, but after she begins to seduce him, he gives in to her sexy charms.
…
I’m not convinced.
Lyrics aren’t the only thing that make a good or bad album. Brendon is a singer, surely there was special care taken in the vocals on this album… right?
The third song on the tracklist is Don’t Let the Light Go Out and it’s apparent by the end of this song that Brendon is not concerned about his vocals sounding good or natural. Instead, he seems concerned with hitting the highest note in his register at every conceivable turn. It was noticeable in the first two tracks but on this track, he completely loses the plot and starts squawking at a horrific pitch.
The hook to this song is actually one of the stronger on this album (even with the clunky “Heavy Machinery” line ham-fisted into the lyrics). I found myself enjoying the hook on that tune until Brendon strained himself to the point that I needed to take off my headphones for a while.
I don’t know who is responsible for this, but there’s this disgusting harmony on the fifth track Star Spangled Banger on the line “home of the freaks”. It seems like it’s intentionally bad to portray them as “freaks” but it grates my nerves every time I had to hear it.
The most offensive instance of Brendon pushing beyond the capabilities of his voice show up on track 10 with Sad Clown. Much of the praise which was given to this album was because of it wearing it’s influences on its sleeve. Queen was a major inspiration on this album, but especially on this song. While there are positives to being influenced by Queen, Brendon takes the Freddie Mercury pastiche too far, screeching like a dog whistle.
There are plenty more strange and ill-fitting lyrics to find on this album. The eighth track is about Brendon’s wife, who he refers to as a “sugar soaker”.
Gross.
The song “Something About Maggie” is blatantly empty, as half the lyrics are just the name “Maggie.” This song actually has one of the better hooks on this album as well, reminiscent of something you might hear on the album Pretty. Odd.
The final two tracks All By Yourself and Do it to Death seem to be generic songs about stuff people might have written songs about in the 70s and 80s.
Again, heaps of praise were thrown onto Brendon for copying the styles of his influences but he can’t seem to harness what made these people great, instead choosing to do the most rudimentary copy-job like a cover band at your local bar.
This reminds me, there’s one song which I purposefully skipped over to talk about at the end. The fourth overall track is Local God. Many fans have guessed that this song is about former bandmate Ryan Ross. At the very least, Brendon is talking down to someone who chose not to seek stardom like he did through music despite being talented. If it’s not about Ryan, it’s still a stupid idea for a song and one of the worse sounding tracks on the album. If it is about Ross, it’s a slap in the face not only to Ross but also to longtime fans of the band.
The first three songs on this album I can write off as simply being bad. However, this fourth song is a personal offense that I really cannot stand for.
Brendon has all these musical influences that he wants to incorporate, but he can’t seem to fit them all onto the album. On Star Spangled Banger, he calls himself the “new Dead Kennedys”. What on this album is akin to 80s punk band Dead Kennedys? Sugar Soaker?
There is some decent instrumentation on this album. The beginning of Sugar Soaker is actually pretty good until the hook starts. The guitar is pretty good on Don’t Let the Light Go Out. At the end of the day though, it’s just not enough. Some good solos aren’t sufficient in compensating for Brendon ripping my ears apart.
When critics talk about this album being a throwback, they are mostly talking about Queen. Yes, there are other bands he’s ripping off. It’s clear though with songs like God Killed Rock and Roll and Sad Clown that he wants the band to be viewed these days as the modern-day Queen. I’d much rather see half of Queen in their old age play with Adam Lambert than see Brendon Urie pretend to be Freddie Mercury and demolish his vocal cords.
The songs that are memorable are usually pretty bad. The songs that aren’t bad are boring. What does that leave us with?
Not much.
Don’t listen to this album. Maybe it’s not as bad as people on social media want you to think it is, but it’s definitely not worth your time. For me, it’s not even in the “so bad it’s good” category, it’s in the “so bad it’s horrible” category. This is one of those albums that’s so bad, I think I like their earlier work less because it reminds me of this album. I can’t imagine I’ll be listening to the next Brendon Urie effort under any circumstances and I recommend you do the same.