Before discussing Robin, I'd like to express my hatred toward the birds in which this album is named after. Killing a Robin in Michigan (my home) is illegal regardless of what happens, and I almost perished to such oddity when one of those red-breasted motherf*ckers flew into my car head-on; a cop saw this, and I was almost fined because of the bird's illogical suicide. Hearing Farmakon's second full-length offering conjured these doltish memories, mainly because they both share a few common genes: stupidity, annoyance, sketchiness, and a strong emphasis on denying reason. Urine-soaked progressive death metal has never seemed so poorly crafted once fans of the genre look at Farmakon's mindless ideology. Be sure to keep those rubber sheets close!
In a nutshell, Robin is identical to Opeth in every slice, slither, cut, and bruise. When discussing the "death metal" aspects, there are a collection of dull riffs that repeat endlessly, low growls that nobody cares about, one-dimensional percussion, a bass doing whatever it wants, and awful solos lacking soul. After experimenting with such worthlessness, Farmakon soon depends on soft transitions (probably where they acquire the "progressive" label) that are calming, but also empty and uninspired due to the blank atmosphere they emit. Clearly, this record isn't a tribute to Opeth, but is actually the squad in every form; that's how f*cking unoriginal Farmakon is throughout their putrid wrongdoing.
As for vocals, expect some goon copying Mikael Εkerfeldt's low growls and clean singing until you just can't tell whether or not he's really fronting the faction. Pretty pathetic, because the vocalist here doesn't have a single drop of individuality in his performance, yet I'm compelled to understand why these tools need to be in Opeth! No bright rays reflect from any angle or demonstrated abyss, albeit a good riff every three songs or so, but who cares? Ninety percent of this bowel movement is completely void of substance, and generally pisses on progressive death metal's evolutionary sound, along with everything considered credible within its community. Overall, I'd describe it as a group of gentlemen bent on imitating Opeth yet being nothing but delusional in their blatant copying. Oh the humanity!
Robin is a very special album, but I don't mean it positively or anything of that nature; it's quite mentally disabled in several areas, often times found drooling and immobilized from internal issues within Farmakon's plagued redundancy. Normally, a tad of goodness lives inside at least one particular portion on a lackluster effort, yet Robin manages to assassinate everything enjoyable, which leaves this feeble band presenting items only good for inducing narcolepsy. Problems are like rats in a sewer throughout Robin, and you can bet avoiding Farmakon's second full-length will certainly be the smartest option. Your financial backbone will thank you, trust me.