Another 'not ready for prime time' local band given a leg up to the national stage, when their music, production, packaging, and overall presentation is better suited to the bush leagues. BULLISTIC are one of those GODSMACK-derived, blue-collar, battle-of-the-bands-winning groups that populate every town in the USA with more than 200 people in it. I'm sure they're nice, hard-working fellas, the kind of guys you wanna go have a beer or three with – the trouble is, I can throw a rock and hit ten bands in my hometown alone that do this exact same sound, and do it better.
The singer pulls that Sully Erna/Scott Stapp overwrought croon, which immediately dates the band, and he uses it to sing a notebook full of corny, clichéd lyrics. The band relies on played-out rhythms and riffs, produced on a skimpy enough budget to gut any heaviness that might have ensued. There are a few glimmers of hope — "Doomsday's Coming" rocks okay, and there are a couple guitar parts here and there that aren't hopeless — but really, there's just nothing here worth getting excited over. You just have to bring more to the table than this if you want anyone besides your girlfriends and co-workers to give a shit.
BULLISTIC do themselves no favors with a bar-band rendition of STEALER'S WHEEL chestnut "Stuck In the Middle With You". They also consign themselves forever to grade-Z status with their blatantly unoriginal efforts and plain-jane production. They're chasing a bandwagon that went off the rails five years ago, and unless they can add a bit of their own personality to their music, they'll be back to those hometown dollar-draft-night gigs before you can say "dropped."