Album Review: Frank Carter & The Rattlesnakes - End Of Suffering

To paraphrase Tywin Lannister chastising his frothing grandson Joffrey, anyone who tells you they’re punk are not actually punk. Such is the case here, or at least in the band’s present incarnation. Frank Carter & The Rattlesnakes’ third album, End Of Suffering, is a meat-and-potatoes collection of alt-rock that offers no real challenge to any sort of establishment. While it’s undeniably easy to listen to and is extremely competent, it has the listener drifting off to other far-better bands during its runtime.

It’s a turgid mix of Arctic Monkeys and some cast-off, late '90s last-ditch squeeze of the grunge teat. It’s slick and well produced, and Frank Carter is (rightly) front and centre in the mix. Carter rants and wails (with a fantastic voice, mind you) at the injustice of the world, pointing out salient truths such as, “When I’m high I’m in heaven/When I’m low I’m in hell.” Stirring stuff. In the background his Rattlesnakes chug away using sturdy roadhouse-rock tropes that need someone with serious chops if they're going to have any chance of really igniting something. As is stands, their approach is far too familiar and far too safe.

By all reports Carter is a magnetic frontman, and their live shows are something else entirely. Additionally, a look at their site reveals an awesome personal contribution to combat male depression and suicide. So as the album closes with a gorgeous lullaby to his daughter, all these things leave a strange impression. You wish their songwriting abilities rose to meet their ambitions – the results would’ve been stellar.