Like many others before it, Planet Zero was an album written in lockdown. A sorrowful state of current affairs, Shinedown join the plethora of artists using the time as advantageous, as it shows a band unafraid to smack a few faces along the way.
After 4 years from their blaring yellow-tape panic-room work ATTENTION ATTENTION tackling depression, the multi-platinum band are back with Planet Zero, an album exploring ideas that doesn’t drift too far from its prior counterpart, where we see ourselves on an apocalyptic planet of zero self-worth and an intolerance of individual freedom and integrity. Another digression to being “constantly wired”, it’s finding comfort against the machine.
it features a stellar 20-track rundown including self-titled Planet Zero, Daylight and The Saints of Violence and Innuendo. Whether that list is full of concurrent bangers or lacklustre fillers … is down to you.
Centred around this ethereal theme of the world ending, Shinedown have always been the first to charter into the unknown, figuratively and literally with their class-act of music thunder, as they have been blowing up stadiums – hopefully only figuratively – since their debut of Leave A Whisper in 2003. Still backpacking across the world from the impending doom, Planet Zero is seventh studio album – and the third album at really hitting home that we’re all likely f!cked.

Shedding their 00’s dirty Soundgarden–esque sounds from Fly from the Inside for a more quenched post-rock sound, Planet Zero is an all-round chilling tale of overlooking integrity as the global tech behemoths take over the world. A familiar theme we’ve heard all before since the dawn of hippies and the like I’m sure. While the album concept is a little to be desired amongst a saturated rock world equally annoyed and confused, music-wise? It slaps mightily hard.
Eclectic highlights springing to mind are the usual pre-released favourites, Planet Zero – a familiar Shinedown DEVIL staple, Dysfunctional You, America Burning – a fitting tribute to a country quite literally alling at its knees and The Saints of Violence of Innuendo, a visceral explosion of arena rock that Puddle of Mudd can certainly make off as their own.
Despite the over-used anthemic notion of old man shaking fist at sky, they fit the bill as a fantastically-good dark and destructive rock band with albums to back it up.
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