Album Review: The Beauty of Falling by Feed Her To The Sharks
Alright, buckle up, because we’re diving headfirst into The Beauty of Falling, the 2011 metalcore banger from Australia’s own Feed Her To The Sharks. Released under Shock Records, this album is like that one friend who shows up uninvited to a party but ends up being the life of it. It’s chaotic, loud, and leaves you questioning your life choices—but in the best way possible.
Let’s talk tracks, shall we? There are some real gems here, but two stood out to me like a sore thumb on a bassist’s fretting hand: "My Bleeding Heart Swims In A Sea of Darkness" and "Outta My Way Satan... Gard."
First off, "My Bleeding Heart Swims In A Sea of Darkness"—what a mouthful, right? But don’t let the emo-poetry title fool ya; this track hits harder than your ex’s new Instagram captions. The breakdowns are so brutal they might as well come with a warning label for neck injuries. I mean, seriously, if you’re not screaming along to this in your car while pretending you’re in a music video, are you even alive? The mix of guttural growls and soaring clean vocals feels like riding a rollercoaster built by dudes who hate seatbelts. Chaotic? Yes. Addictive? Absolutely.
Then there’s "Outta My Way Satan... Gard," which sounds like what would happen if Satan himself got into an argument with his gardener (hence the name, maybe?). This tune has riffs sharp enough to cut glass and energy levels that could power a small city. The lyrics are hilariously over-the-top, but somehow it works. Like, who wouldn’t want to shout “OUTTA MY WAY SATAN” at the top of their lungs after a bad day? It’s cathartic, man. Pure, unadulterated rage wrapped up in a five-minute package.
Now, let’s zoom out for a sec. With other tracks like "Dead By Dawn" and "Digital Breakdown," the band proves they’ve got range. They can go full throttle one moment and then pull back just enough to remind you they’re still human beings with feelings—or at least creatures capable of mimicking them. Tracks like "Tragedy Tears And Sorrow" bring the emotional depth without veering too far into ballad territory, keeping things heavy yet heartfelt.
Here’s the kicker though: listening to The Beauty of Falling feels like watching a storm roll in. You know it’s gonna get messy, but you can’t look away because damn, it’s beautiful. Sure, the production isn’t perfect—it’s kinda like trying to polish a chainsaw—but honestly, that rawness adds to its charm. Plus, coming from Aussie soil, where everything seems intent on killing you anyway, it fits perfectly.
So, final thoughts? If you’re into metalcore that doesn’t take itself too seriously but still packs a punch, this album’s worth a spin. It’s not gonna change your life or anything profound like that, but hey, sometimes all you need is something to scream along to when the world feels like it’s falling apart. Oh, and fun fact: sharks don’t actually eat people often, but after hearing this record, you might think twice about swimming near ‘em. Coincidence? Probably.
