Gravity Kills – Superstarved – Review

Gravity Kills

Superstarved (Sanctuary)
by Scott Hefflon

Gravity Kills will probably do fine without me liking them, so I won’t. They’ve always been like Bush or Filter or Godsmack or any of the other generally OK cover bands propelled to superstardumb by the simple fact that plenty of people will like the shit on the radio, simply because it’s pounded into their heads and becomes the soundtrack to their miserable lives. High-profile tours and soundtrack placement will ensure “Fifteen Minutes,” or whatever the interchangeable single is, has its 15 minutes (gee, these guys are clever, huh? Not.), but really, Gravity Kills was a glorified also-ran in 1995 when Mortal Kombat-type bands “bridged the gap between electronica and primal hard rock,” and an unlucky seven years later, really, haven’t we bridged that gap countless times? And haven’t most of those bridges been weak and collapsed? So by now, with all the product built up ( reports one new copy of Mortal Kombat in stock and 27 used copies available for as low as $2.99), is there actually a gap left? Anyone looked lately? I’ll bet you can walk right across all the shattered dreams (and jewel cases, smashed in frustration for being suckered once again) from the land of electronica to hard rock and back, and there’re probably plenty of makeshift stands along the way with bands hawking their wares, some sad, broken, yet honest, and plenty probably still high on the fumes of delusion, selling anything to anyone who’ll buy, just to keep the trip going…

Gravity Kills, specifically, is decent background music if you’re doing something else interesting. Produced by Martin Atkins, it’s got the authentic sound and Gravity Kills has certainly been bashing it out for long enough so they know how to throw a distorted tantrum and make it interesting. Crap, they covered Depeche Mode’s “Personal Jesus,” and the song was fine without them. They just made it louder and flatter, with some vaguely pinball machine noises that will impress people who’re impressed by such things. We’ve been reduced to glorifying such table scraps, huh?