Regular readers of Action Comics will remember the Fortress of Solitude as Superman's home away from home, a remote arctic compound where the Man of Steel could take a break from world-saving and get some thinking done. But it seems Temple of Solitude bellower Jason Biggerstaff needs a vacation from his fortress. The guy apparently has internal issues that could provoke Clark Kent to leap off tall buildings in a single bound. And although some may find catharsis in songs like "Come Alive," "Waste Away Blues" and "Sometimes," the band's imitation sludge-grunge is used primarily as a pulpit for Biggerstaff to grouse to the Big Man Upstairs. Otherwise, why overwhelm us with more Alice In Chains/Staind-style angst? Those bands dealt with somewhat intriguing topics -- drug addiction and the aftereffects of parental neglect, respectively -- but more often than not, Biggerstaff comes off as another moaning, goateed blowhard flaunting girlfriend problems and unspecified personal shortcomings. Not that everything has to be rainbows and sunshine, but by the time you slog through "Drowning in Regrets," "Broken," "Angels Have Fallen" and "Bleeding on the Inside," you'll be the one hemorrhaging. Temple of Solitude is acceptable in doses -- everything in moderation -- but something tells me that by the time Biggerstaff gets done with his lamenting prayers, even God won't be listening. And really, who could blame him?
