The name Bleed Electric reminds me of the extreme cut-up posthuman cyberpunk novel by Kenji Siratori, 'Blood Electric,' but alas, the similarity is in title alone, and there's nothing nearly so out-there or innovative to be found here.
The press release suggests that the opener and title track is 'a mixture of rock, dubstep and Hip-Hop that takes you on a journey that is both unexpected and forever changing.' Fair enough, but it's a mixture of rock, dubstep and Hip-Hop' in the way that Linkin Park are. Lacking real balls, they peddle manufactured angst while lacking the conviction or production values of rock in favour of the radio slickness of rap. I'm talking about Linkin Park, but the same is equally true of these guys. Hell, it's even got the synthetic modulated vocals all over it, and a really cringy lamecore rap toward the end. Talk about covering all bases!
The trouble with trying to incorporate so many different elements - seemingly in an attempt to appeal to a broad range of markets - is that it's so easy to end up appealing to precisely no-one. I fear this may be the case where Blood Electric are concerned. It all smacks of trying too hard.
So, as if the backed-off slick nu-metal guitars, r 'n' b vocal effects and hip-hop beats aren't enough, we've got some emotastic lyrics: 'I lick wounds / and I taste your blood / 'cause I'm your love and it's serious / so save me from this disco / let me take you to the electro heaven.' Really, such teen notebook scribblings should be left in the diary under the bed with the unsent love-letters and porn mags.
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The next couple of tracks are less rock and more lamecore rap. The FX-laden vocals really do get tedious very quickly. Sure, it's all the rage right now, but then there's a reason I don't listen to Radio 1 these days. 'Rapid Eye Movement' reminds the listener countless times who they're listening to, but once all the bragging and chest-beating is over, there's not a lot else left.
'Chunks of Your Own Soul' starts off with a little more promise and a lot more weight, threatening to crunch its way into Pitchshifter territory, but is entirely ruined by more atrocious lyrics ('Look - it's that prick who I work with, Steve / And he's talking to me, let's leave / Fuck him, yeah fuck him, man, forget him, he's a wanker.' I bet Steve's crying his eyes out at home each night after work now he knows how his colleagues really feel about him).
Really, it might be well-produced on a technical level, but there's nothing I can find to recommend this.
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