Amalgamut Review: Alternative Press Sept. 2002 Issue #170 

Rating: 7/10

It's not surprising that Filter founder Richard Patrick cites 
Led Zeppelin and Jane's Addiction among his favorite bands. Zep. 
and Jane's both temper their adrenalized rock power with 
gentler, whimsical moments, yet neither group's switching of 
gears seems contrived. While Filter's debut, Short Bus, was 
drive by the pulverizing riffage of "Hey Man, Nice Shot," 1999's 
Title of Record was a hit mostly because of the non-rocking 
ballad "Take A Picture." Naturally, this dichotomy's caused some 
head bangers to think Filter are pussies, while just as many 
middle-of-the-road pop fans have cowered in fear of that album's 
neck-snapping riffs. 

On The Amalgamut, Patrick and associates have made this 
crevasse even wider. The album features tracks befitting those 
Hallmark moments with that special one in your life, as well as 
tungsten-hard soundtracks for that special one in scope of your 
rifle. Only this time, the heartfelt stuff sounds more sugary than 
before, while the hate vibes sound even more caustic. 

The choruses in the propulsive opener "You Walk Away," 
establish Patrick as the spirit channel for the late Layne Stanley. 
The disc's most teeth-grinding cut, "Columind," is a vicious 
attack on the Columbine high school killers("What do you think 
you got done here, kid?/Did you reach your killing goal?") fuelled 
by a crushing riff and meancing drum programing, "So I Quit" is 
a high powered rant with plenty o' cussing and dick-waving. 
(Hear that sound? They're getting angry in the 'burbs, folks).

Meanwhile, back at the prom, the lush "God Damn Me" is filled 
with personal confusion--too bad the song's title and refrain will 
keep it off the radio. "The Missing" is not a Ministry cover, but 
rather a weepy angst-fest that, depending on your emotional 
state, could be either the voice of reason in this cruel world or a 
five minute waste of your time. "Where Do We Go From Here" 
bridges cuddly and crunchy camps with its layered vocal 
melodies and loud guitars. The disc ends with two tracks of 
ambient psychedelia, which for Patrick, is both curious and 
oddly refreshing. 

Some observers will say that Patrick is hedging his bets by 
tailoring his work to apeal to too many audiences. Young metal 
soldiers with "Mudvayne" tattooed on their foreheads won't 
have time to play with the 'mut. Likewise, your Aunt Edna
(you know, the one who never dated and you're pretty sure 
isn't a lesbian) may have a stroke over Patrick's venomous music 
and lyris. Whatever. Filter's bipolar aesthetics will survive long 
after bands like Flaw and Default have been reduced to faded 
entries in the old ledgers of record companies. (Reprise) Jason 
Pettigrew