Have you ever wondered what it would be like if Celine Dion made death doom metal? Wonder no more, for this album brings that experience and then adds as much vomit inducing sappiness as possible. I’m pretty sure the moment towards the end of the first track, in which the awfully executed death vocals try to be super emotional at the “climax” of the track is a contender for the worst moment in any album this year. It’s not even so bad that it’s funny, it’s just so disgusting you feel like gagging. That’s the worst part, I can’t actually even laugh at this, because it’s not bad because Angellore doesn’t know what they’re doing, it’s bad because they do know, and they decided to use that knowledge to make a metal infused 90s adult contemporary record. Pure and utter garbage.