CMFR – Cory Taylor | Will The Real Corey Taylor Please Yield!? | Album Review

CMFT - Corey Taylor | Official Album Artwork (2020)

(Above: Nick Nicely Summarises His Review)

You know, something reader? I didn’t think I would ever get to a point where I would feel burned out by an artist, but fucking hell, is everyone else sick to death of Corey Taylor or are you all normal? This is coming from an avid music listener, where even Spotify begs me to listen to something else other than the same song for the 6000th time, jokes on you Spotify, I still have an iPod! 

It may need a factory restart every two weeks, but you can’t stop me! 

Loose rambling against Spotify aside, it’s not that I don’t enjoy Corey Taylor. He’s an icon, he’s in two very successful bands and he’s written some very good books and graphic novels. It does seem like he is the man with a golden touch and his music has helped me in the past. To a degree, my anger isn’t really aimed at him, but the metal press. Anytime he fucking sneezes the press is all over it. It’s a 50/50 affair, but either way an affair where I long for the days the metal press wouldn’t shut up about Iron Maiden every week.

So I wince, put on my wellies and try to wade through his solo effort ‘CMFT‘ an album where the eighties cock-posturing and ego is revived once more – oh kaloo kal-fucking-ay, more eighties garbage. We’re never going to get out of the eighties influenced albums, when artists like Corey Taylor and Fozzy insist on dragging us to their MTV nostalgia for seventeenth time saying “no really, the eighties were cool, I swear”. While it wasn’t as offensive as Verne’s solo effort (if you remember my outright assault on that hot garbage) for Taylor, this is his hot garbage album. 

Things start with ‘HWY 666‘ a song that starts with a typical 80’s metal intro. You know the one, it starts all creepy then the guitarist sodomises his axe with the same note and fret wanking, while the drummer is on a “sugar rush” and hits every symbol he can see. After that intro ‘HWY 666’ then slows itself into an acoustic/heavy country vibe before popping into quite the bouncy chorus. Then there’s more fret wanking, ‘Devil Went Down To Georgia‘ style lyrics, how many more songs are there? 11? Oh, fucking hell!

Already the cracks in this album are appearing, this is a pretty indulgent album, perhaps the argument is that actively I hate indulgent bands. Ask me my opinion on bands like Bon Jovi or Def Leppard and it’s always a defeating “ugh” and an eye roll. I’m listening to their radio-friendly claptrap, with lyrics that reek of optimism because they earn so much money, that they don’t have to worry about their next meal. Or those songs that are just the same love song worded differently. There are bands out there I could cover on this site, that need any attention they can get their hands on! 

I’m not saying this album isn’t fun, there’s certainly some fun here if you’re one of those people who walk around in a 20-year-old denim vest top, with patches of Judas Priest and your diet is Carling, twenty B&H and kebabs. But it’s just so over the top and predictable, that by song three, ‘Samantha’s Gone‘, I was already bored. When the In Key Editor asked how the review was coming along I sent him a video message of myself slamming my head into the work desk and screaming hysterically.  

I understand this is Corey Taylor’s “vacation” from his more serious work and perhaps this is where I’m going wrong as an amateur critic. I’m trying to compare this album to his work in Slipknot or Stone Sour and while Stone Sour has “relaxed” a little over the years, there is still more sustenance in their lesser quality albums than what I am hearing on CMFT. That is the hill I am ready to die on, this album lacks anything meaningful to go with.

Anyway if you read my reviews because you like it when I breakdown most if not all songs, let’s try and sum the rest of the album up in 2 paragraphs, ready? Here we go!

Meine Lux‘ – up-tempo, fast, fucking annoying chorus and Corey, please never sing in an intro count. ‘Halfway Down‘ – ughhh…it’s a song that could easily pick up radio time. ‘Silverfish & Kansas‘ – token acoustic tracks and nowhere near memorable as his other acoustic tracks such as ‘Bother‘ or ‘Looking Glass‘. Lyrical themes of “I was broken once, now I’m so hopeful for the future” in a year of political upheaval and a fucking pandemic?! Well done for reading the room, Corey.  ‘Culture Head‘ & ‘Everybody Dies On My Birthday‘ – actually neither one was terrible. The instruments had more of a groove to them. These would have made for good Stone Sour songs and Corey is flexing those vocal muscles to his advantage, these two get a pass. 

‘The Maria Fire’ – the “experimental track” I put that in inverted commas, because by the time the chorus kicks in, we’ve gone back into cock-posturing. The verses had this nice Jazz/Swing vibe to them, I would have liked for this idea to be expanded on. ‘Home‘ – the token piano track about being on the road, which again, how were you doing that in 2020, Corey? This track is a rip off to Stone Sour’s ‘Zzyzx Rd‘, seriously, listen to that track and tell me it’s not the same fucking song.

There we have it and no, I am not going to even humour the title tack ‘CMFT’ or the Punk-Rock ‘European Tour Bus Bathroom Song‘. If I can sum up an album in two paragraphs what does that say? Maybe this is an overreaction, the eighties themed Hair Metal, it’s just not my bag. Couple that with the burnout I am facing with Corey Taylor just not shutting the fuck up, every time he takes a bowel movement, then perhaps we can conclude the review is biased. But it’s my fucking opinion, fuck off and listen to the album if you don’t like what I had to say about it. 

‘CMFT’ is an album derivative of anything meaningful to say. It’s a party album for horny lonely housewives or deadbeat dads trying to impress the intimidating cool kids smoking weed down the park, in the hopes of a cheeky puff. Yes, it’s bouncy, sure some moments are fun. However, for a man who inspired millions and probably earned millions, this is a self-indulgent, ridiculous and in some instances an insulting album to listen too. It just makes me think about what I was thinking since before this review:

SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP. COREY. MOTHER. FUCKING. TAYLOR!  

About Nick Meekham 42 Articles
A shambles of a metal critic. I enjoy long walks on the beach, cheese and crying the shoulders of strippers on the weekend. Not necessarily in that order.

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