P.O.D. has become laughably irrelevant. There seems to be no
reason why this band continues to put records out, and their newest album, When
Angels & Serpents Dance, argues that point better than I ever could. Over
the album’s 13 songs, the band sounds tired and out of ideas, both musically
and lyrically. Case in point: Any song that contains the line, “Rollin’
down the Sunset Strip, y’all,” and isn’t a joke or a parody is
automatically terrible.

The main problem with this record is the vast majority of
the songs don’t go anywhere. Either they start out promising and then drag on
into mundane oblivion (like the absurdly titled “Kaliforn-Eye-A”), or
they just have nowhere to go from the outset (like “Shine With Me”).

The first single, “Addicted,” sports a riff stuck
in neutral and a chorus that, while catchy, seems to have been rushed in the
lyrics department: “‘Cause I, I’m addicted/ To all the colors that I see/
That you hold in front of me/ You will change, yeah you will change me/ Why do
I love you when I know, love you when I know/ You’re wrong?” It seems as
if Sonny was looking for a few syllables to fit in at the end and just lazily
decided to repeat the same line again.

One of the only real spurts of creativity from guitarist
Marcos Curiel comes in the form of a reggae-influenced solo in the otherwise
blas? “I’ll Be Ready.” Otherwise, Curiel’s riffs can be described as
“blah” at best. There is no innovation or originality here. The riffs
just drone on under whatever quasi-literate lyrics singer Sonny Sandoval is
howling. Granted, the lyrics are mostly uplifting, but optimism does not
necessarily equal greatness.

Not all the songs are beyond terrible, however. “God
Forbid” had me believing P.O.D. could record an entire song that didn’t
suck. It’s easily the heaviest song of the set here and features Page Hamilton
of the near-legendary Helmet. What Hamilton is doing on this song is a real
head-scratcher, though. With his songwriting abilities, it’s a wonder he’d go
anywhere near this band.

Elsewhere, the ballad “It Can’t Rain Every Day” is
actually pretty decent, mainly due to the very positive nature of the song. Sure,
it’s an obvious play for radio, but so was “Youth of the Nation,” and
that was a solid track. The other tolerable song is a two-minute
Spanish-influenced acoustic instrumental that finds Curiel shredding at the
end. The mellow “Rise Against” and acoustic ballad “Tell Me
Why” exhibit potential for the future as well, but it’s too little and far
too late.

Overall, this album could have been a possibly great EP, but
instead Angels is an atrocious mess with little reason for existing other than
fulfilling a record contract. I suppose I could recommend buying this if, in a
moment of aristocratic elitism, you decided you needed a $15 coaster for your
coffee table. Oh well, at least the album title and cover art are intriguing.

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1 1/2 stars out of 5