[Song and Music Video Review] MISSCORE - Domino

"Domino" challenges those in power who shape society through control, consumerism, and manufactured ideas of happiness, reducing people to productivity and obedience. It reflects on the loneliness and division beneath a supposedly joyful world, where individuals are encouraged to accept having little. Ultimately, it suggests that the system itself is fragile and temporary, and that everyone, regardless of status, will eventually return to dust.

Musically, "Domino" fits comfortably within its genre, but it struggles to elevate itself beyond familiar territory. The instrumentation is appropriate and technically solid, with flashes of real promise, particularly in the guitar work, which occasionally leans into a subtle prog-rock feel reminiscent of Dream Theater. Unfortunately, these moments are never fully capitalised on, as the lack of solos, phrasing, and dynamic contrast keeps the arrangement feeling restrained and overly linear.

Production wise, the mix is extremely flat. Everything sits at almost the same volume throughout, which results in clarity without impact. While the track isn’t muddy, individual elements rarely have room to breathe, and the over compression robs the song of tension and release. Effects like reverb and distortion are used to prop up moments, especially the screams, but this feels more compensatory than intentional. The end result is polished on the surface, yet emotionally muted.

Lyrically, this is where the song shows its greatest strength. The themes are timely, relatable, and thoughtfully constructed, using game based imagery like Lego, The Sims, dominoes, and a house of cards to reinforce ideas of control, manipulation, and fragility. The message lands, but the structure works against it. Rather than building toward a clear emotional or narrative payoff, the song feels fragmented, as though strong lyrical ideas are placed side by side without enough development or escalation.

Musically, the songwriting is far less adventurous. The melody doesn’t stand out, the hook isn’t memorable, and the verse chorus structure feels predictable. While the lyrics challenge power structures, the music itself rarely takes creative risks, creating a disconnect between message and delivery.

The song flows almost too smoothly, with very few pauses or shifts to create contrast. Momentum remains steady throughout, but that steadiness becomes a weakness, as there’s little variation in intensity or texture. The ending itself is effective, but it arrives too quickly and without the structural weight needed to make it truly impactful. Lyrically, the track feels complete, musically, it does not.

Natalia Rygiel delivers an emotionally convincing vocal performance, with a tone that sits somewhere between Hayley Williams and Amy Lee, moody and expressive. However, her vocals are mixed too evenly with the instruments, which limits their presence and clarity. Enunciation is inconsistent, making the lyrics harder to grasp without focused listening. The screaming sections lack power, either due to technique or, more likely, insufficient prominence in the mix.
Instrumentally, the band are clearly capable, particularly the guitar and rhythm sections, with hints of complex time signatures and prog influence. Still, the performances feel restrained, stiff at times, and overly polished, lacking moments where the musicians are allowed to truly shine.

Replay value is low. There are no standout hooks or moments that demand repeated listens, and the song doesn’t reveal much additional depth over time. That said, its lyrical themes give it meaning within the genre, even if the execution prevents it from leaving a lasting emotional impression.

The music video mirrors many of the same strengths and weaknesses found in the song itself. Conceptually, it is ambitious and symbol rich, but structurally unfocused and poorly paced. The core idea appears to visualise society as a controlled game. The band performing on stage represents authenticity and reality, while the table scene symbolises power, manipulation, and spectatorship. Ravens transforming into copies of the band members suggest loss of individuality, with people becoming interchangeable pieces within a system governed by chance, rules, and unseen forces. Cards, dice, and the board game layout reinforce the idea of lives being played rather than lived.

The symbolism is strong on paper. Cards depicting covered eyes, covered ears, masks, a TV with tentacles, and VR headsets point toward selective perception, propaganda, distraction, and artificial realities. One card disintegrating into black dust directly reflects the song’s recurring reminder that everything, power included, eventually collapses. The crown imagery hints at authority, while the mask transforming into smoke and becoming the guitarist suggests manufactured identity or replacement.

However, these ideas are never given enough space to breathe. The editing is rushed, symbols flash past without context, and key moments, like the crown being worn, are poorly framed and easy to miss. Close ups of instruments and band members feel repetitive and purposeless, breaking immersion rather than reinforcing the narrative. As a result, the video becomes confusing rather than intriguingly abstract. Despite clear effort and imagination, the video lacks focus, hierarchy, and narrative progression. Like the song, it contains strong ideas that never fully coalesce into a satisfying whole.

MISSCORE show genuine potential, with thoughtful lyrics, capable musicianship, and an eagerness to tackle meaningful themes. However, both the song and its video suffer from the same core issue, structure. With stronger dynamics, clearer progression, and more confident execution, these ideas could land far harder. As it stands, this release feels like a promising foundation that hasn’t yet reached its full impact.