Review by Tobias on February 15, 2001.

Plastered on the cover of the CD was a sticker that said “The Cure meets Anathema”. As you regular readers might’ve noticed, I’m not too big on whiny music. The Cure is the supreme ruler of grief-stricken, teary-eyed music (particularly the old stuff) and I am much more likely to pop Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me or Anathema’s Judgement into my player than listen to The Art of Grief.

I suppose one of the problems here is that The Wounded is trying to create new music when they are really just modifying old stuff and giving it a bit of a hybrid edge. What they’ve really produced is another entry in the small and rarely appreciated book of moody-metal. And I say “metal” grudgingly:

1. the guitars get hard, but never heavy;
2. the keyboards provide an adhesive layer under the other instruments without which the rest of the music would never have made it out of a garage; though they are simple, this is the best part of the music, providing smooth movement and almost a spooky atmosphere
3. on Frailty Thy Name is Woman, Wounded’s heart-torn vocalist attempts some growling that is almost laughable (imagine Tears For Fears taking a mean crap)

If you want to feel sorry for yourself and get some depression enhancing music, this is a pretty good buy. I know that I'm basically ripping The Wounded a new asshole, but understand that the music is decent for the whole “I’m a sensitive guy, so let me cry in your ear” fan base. But I thought we were done with that in the mid-nineties! I don’t know man, maybe some 14 yr. old chicks will dig it… hopefully it can get their minds of those Backstreet Butt-Nugget boy bands.

Bottom Line: If you want to cry, either for depression therapy or because you like to torture yourself, The Art of Grief makes good on its words. Personally, I like music with balls; The Wounded seem to be grieving the loss of theirs.

Rating: 4 of 10