Panic! At The Disco: Pray For The Wicked Review

Since taking the world by storm back in 2005, Panic! At The Disco has held its rank as one of the most famous pop-punk bands of the century. Everyone knows at least one of their songs, and there isn’t a fan alive who can’t recite the lyrics to “I Write Sins Not Tragedies” by heart.

Maybe you love them, maybe you hate them, but this band has captured the hearts of (mainly) teenagers around the globe regardless. New releases continue to top the charts despite losing all but one remaining member of the original four-person act: lead vocalist Brendon Urie.

Despite its popularity, Panic! At The Disco has dropped in quality significantly since Ryan Ross on lead guitar and Jon Walker on bass left the group back in 2009 after the release of their sophomore album, Pretty. Odd. Drummer Spencer Smith also departed in 2015 due to his struggles with addiction following the release of Too Weird To Live, Too Rare To Die! Urie has continued to operate under the old name and has thus far released two albums, the previous being Death of a Bachelor in January 2016. While Death of a Bachelor didn’t serve the band’s reputation too well, Pray for the Wicked is a solid example of their erosion into the realm of predictable, annoying dance hits. Where Death of a Bachelor was dominated by strong, egotistical hits, Pray for the Wicked possesses a bland taste in almost every aspect that leaves this album to be thrown away with the rest of yesterday’s garbage, never to be seen again.

Most of the tracks on this record at least reference drug use in some way or another — a theme that quickly grows old as we progress towards the end. Roaring 20s may have a catchy, likable beat and melody, but the lyrics “Roll me like a blunt ’cause I wanna go home”? Really, Urie? You couldn’t think of a simile that was any better than that?

Urie may be known for his wicked vocals, but the instrumentals on this track don’t serve him justice. Looking at songs such as Hey Look Ma, I Made It, Old Fashioned and The Overpass, the horn parts and guitars sound as if Urie didn’t even bother to play them himself. Technology does everything, so why play the music when you can just plug it into a computer and have it play it for you? There is little uniqueness and style in the instrumentation that is too mechanical and tasteless to pass itself off as quality performance. Don’t even get me started on the closing track, “Dying in LA.” Changing up your voice to add some spice and emotion is great and all, but what happened to making those eccentricities sound decent? Urie’s little vocal trick in the chorus sounds more like a voice crack than it does an interesting twist.

It’s not terrible to have a few party songs in a group’s discography. Heck, the addition of party hits not only works to hype the crowd at a live performance, but they help to lighten the mood of darker-themed records and styles. Who doesn’t love a song that you can get up and dance to without giving a care about a deeper meaning behind the lyrics?

But that’s just what Pray for the Wicked is. The songs are designed to get the listener to dance. They are risk-free attempts at the big bucks and the top slots in the charts. But what is music supposed to be? It is meant to speak to us, to open up our hearts to a deeper side of ourselves. Sure, it’s great to have those few meaningless jams in our mental playlists, but too many of that type doesn’t have enough flair or flavor to mean anything more than that catchy toothpaste commercial jingle you saw on television as a kid two decades back.

Say goodbye to the days of vintage rock and punk-driven anthems of the earlier years. Where we once had strong melodies and guitar riffs, we are now given stale, recycled progressions. We once saw the clever use of autotune used sparingly on their first album in “Nails for Breakfast, Tacks for Snacks,” and now we are left with these overused, irritating synthesizers seen on the majority of mainstream rock/pop albums of recent years. Brendon Urie has taken what we once knew and treasured to be Panic! At The Disco and altered it past the point of recognition. Pray For The Wicked may laugh and dance about, but it is an illusion. Instead of celebrating the sound of what we know to be a Panic! Record, we mourn for the decline of the good old days — the days of “Northern Downpour” and “This is Gospel,” where Urie’s emotions held actual value and had something of purpose to share.

So let us hold a funeral for Panic! At The Disco. Any voice that existed at its debut has been ripped away, and Urie has taken over with a sound so foreign, it is no longer authentic. Urie, you have caused enough damage. Let the name of Panic! die with this album and leave the fans be to preserve the legacies of its roots. Whether Urie continues to operate under the Panic! name or not, one thing is for certain: any new music from here on out shows nothing for excitement to the long-time listener.

Rating: 3.7/10