The glut of popular late '90s alt-metal groups lacked characteristics defining one group from another, but Cold's major-label releases, 13 Ways to Die Onstage and Year of the Spider, showed some glimmers of talent and potential. At certain points on Spider, it was reasonable to hope Cold might break away from the alt-metal pack. Lead singer Scooter Ward managed to sell some of the clich?? angst in his vocals, the lyrics occasionally flashed with promise and there were a few hooks worth hearing.
Flash-forward to today: dropped from Geffen Records during promotion of Year of the Spider, the band nearly dissolved as two members walked away (including Terry Balsamo defecting to Evanescence) and Ward coped with ailing family members. After filling the voids in their lineup and signing with Lava Records, Cold has released A Different Kind of Pain-and the title probably can be taken literally, as this release is their worst to date.
The band has switched into modern rock mode; there are few traces of the metal and post-grunge found on 13 Ways to Die Onstage and Year of the Spider. This shift does not inherently make Cold better or worse, although it may make their singles more likely to get radio airplay. What drags A Different Kind of Pain down is a complete and consuming blandness. This is rock that fails to rock, featuring hooks that fail to hook. And, despite the numerous obstacles the band has overcome to release this album, Ward's despondent vocals are no longer convincing. One would think after enduring the most troublesome period of the band's short history, the album would be dripping with genuine and intense emotion, but Ward instead sounds tired and uninterested the majority of the time.
\Back Home"" opens the album with rapid guitar and bass, but within ten seconds the track's momentum drops out, replaced instead by plodding, heavy modern rock. This would be forgivable if the song featured a riff that stung your spine or a melody that buried itself in your brain. The lyrics, about a man trying to save a woman overwhelmed and contemplating suicide, could have been intricate and touching-instead, they are stereotypical of top 40 rock: vague and simplistic.
In the few moments they find something interesting lyrically, they ride it into the ground. ""Anatomy of a Tidal Wave"" produces an interesting line when using weather phenomena as metaphors for a broken relationship-""I can't believe it was the calm that killed the storm"" grabs attention. Of course, instead of moving forward, building up the concept with intricacy and deft craftsmanship, Ward just wails ""killed the storm"" 80 more times.
The title track manages the downtrodden mood of the album best, a piano-driven ballad featuring Ward as a regretful ex-boyfriend. Even this is familiar and generic territory, lyrically. However, the sparse instrumentation allows Ward's vocals to carry the song rather than relying on the repetitious power chords, thumping bass and thunderous cymbal crashes that flood the other tracks.
But, as on other albums, this is an anomaly that quickly sinks back beneath the sands of mediocrity. For the most part, A Different Kind of Pain is filled with enough angst to appeal to the alt-metal crowd, yet mild enough to be tolerated by the top 40 crowd-in other words, inoffensive commercial rock at its most offensive.
