For all the carefully worded press releases that cleverly failed to mention Linkin Park's involvement behind No Warning's latest effort, the music featured upon it is one thing that does not. Easily one of the most commercially viable hardcore/metalcore hybrids created yet, it's no wonder that this group have found themselves as one of the first signings to Linkin Park's Warner imprint label, Machine Shop Recordings. While their time previously spent on the Bridge 9 roster saw them delivering material that fell in line with the time-honored code of the tough guy NYHC scene, those days appear to have now been coldly put to rest.

Traces of their rough around the edges younger days are still present here, but there is now far too much polish slathered about to suggest such a comparison in good conscience. Instead the group now sound more like an average modern metalcore band who were raised with a few seminal influences. Of course, such a description is only applicable when they aren't crooning out the type of sneering melodic vocals that are hinged upon a hooky structuring inherently similar to that of their current label heads. In their favor, the rare moments of bare-fisted aggression and hunger included do generally deliver. But there's also no denying that this outing is so packaged that No Warning have practically become a gateway band into 'hardcore' for the mainstream post-nu-metal fan base.

It goes without saying that many of the groups early supporters will be quick to call them sellouts and move on, and to be perfectly honest, such a turn of events is entirely warranted. The band have changed their sound dramatically. Their now over-produced and by the numbers structuring is about as relevant to their traditional hardcore roots as a Care Bear stare, even if it does have its occasional merits. To hear such an amalgamation of commercially friendly, almost mechanically progressing song structuring combined with a metalcore aesthetic is bewildering. Not only because these elements should be at opposite ends of the spectrum. But also because of just how slickly this band pull it off. In the end though, it's far too methodical and formulaic to retain any depth and too standard-fare to be remembered. The fact that it features artwork by Converge's Jacob Bannon only further serves to sadly now view it as a sheep in a wolfs clothing. Simply put, this is 'metalcore' for those who watch TRL on a daily basis.