Album Review: Chimaira – Crown Of Phantoms

At the forefront of the New Wave of American Heavy Metal, lurking between the spasming core of Lamb Of God and the thundering grooves of Machine Head, Chimaira have forged a network of paths, rarely stopping to settle too long on one signature sound. Sure, they’re long-time fans of the skull-crushing breakdown but their knack for integrating genres has meant their career in music has been one long progression. In 2011, the band and the fans, already rocked by the departure of Chris Spicuzza and Andols Herrick, had to deal with the bombshell of losing guitarists Rob Arnold and Matt DeVries. That hit fans pretty hard with many rebelling to cries of “R.I.P. Chimaira”. Two years down the line, however, and they’re back to operating at full power with Matt Szlachta (Dirge Within), Austin D’Amond (Bleed the Sky) and, well, half of Dååth stepping in to plug the gaps.

Now, someone wiser than me once said “He who rejects change is the architect of decay” so, let’s look on the bright side here. Chimaira have clearly viewed this all as an opportunity to properly toy with their sound once more and have shifted to one with a more industrial edge. Break it down and the catalyst here has undoubtedly been Sean Zatorsky who has taken on the task of handling the electronics, ambient supplements and additional vocals. If he’s not a fan of Fear Factory’s new album, I’ll eat my hat. There’s also the welding of Emil Werstler’s chaotic leads onto Szlachta’s mathy groove and you begin to realise just how potent this new line-up really can be.

Take opening track “The Machine”, with the line “The time has come to reboot the machine”. Oh, yes, they mean business and this chugs, clanks and groans like some vast factory of pistons operating at full bore. D’Amond’s drums are immense with ballistic double-kick and skins stretched to the point you’d swear he’d used botox on them. Everything else up top is set to chug and batter you to death, but they haven’t forgotten how to write big in all this either. Bursting with musicality and almighty singalong choruses, “No Mercy”, “Plastic Wonderland” and the title-track all have enough pomp and power in them to flatten any venue.

There’s also curios like the bleak monster “Love Soaked Death”, the thrashy “Spineless” and the subterranean “I Despise” to consider. The latter has a dark, multi-faceted mathematical quality about it all. Borrowing from others it fuses elements like slow vocal whoops and piercing string slides with djent’s arrhythmic bottom line to create something truly menacing. Vocalist Mark Hunter’s obsession with firearms takes another step forward too with “All That’s Left Is Blood” refining his point down to the chilling line “Feel the cold steel on the back of your head, one click and it’s over”.

If this wasn’t Chimaira, a band who actually understand the concept of a two-sided vinyl, then “The Transmigration”, with its chanting, clanging atmospherics, classical strings, keys and eventual noise disintegration, would be a track one banker. However, instead of being a throwaway (oh so passé) instrumental intro, it’s the perfect mood-piece that creates space mid-album, allowing its listeners a moment to breathe, dividing it up into bite-sized chunks. As a bonus, it provides the perfect set up for the monstrous vitriol and muscle of that title-track.

The one problem with Crown Of Phantoms is not the concept of a stylistic overhaul, but the fact that their “machine” feels like it may have malfunctioned before the “reboot” could be completed. After setting things up with that opener, they only really pay lip service to the concept itself, choosing to integrate it completely into the groove elements. A more concerted effort might well have eradicated the fillers and might have provided opportunity to nail an album with even more diversity. Fear not, though, this new line-up has done an immense job of giving Chimaira a truly gritty quality. Consequently, Crown Of Phantoms is still going to cut and nick you throughout and will leave you with a strong metallic taste on your tongue.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/08/chimaira-crown-of-phantoms-long-branch-records-spv/

Album Review: Damned Spring Fragrantia – Divergences

When music comes at you like this, attacking from every angle, it’s often all too easy to phase the individual sounds into a conglomeration and assume that everything you are picking up is identical. This band aren’t all blitzkrieg, nor are they a single-minded, unoriginal, write-off. Sensitivity to multiple sound sources isn’t going to help here – this isn’t music for the faint of heart. However, for those hard-skinned devils willing to apply a little patience and perseverance, sounding out these Italians can offer rich rewards. Listen long enough and you will discover that the key to unlocking Damned Spring Fragrantia, and this may seem odd considering their strength of purpose, is to focus on their subtlety of touch.


‘Still Alive‘, with its brooding anger and creepy taped overdubs, marks them out as the proverbial stalker. It is them taking the opportunity to calculate their method of attack before they launch upon you with brutish gang chants and sudden, dizzying changes of pace. This is the only calm they understand and it comes before the storm of ‘A Common Tragedy’ and ‘Lost Shores’ hit. And yet their creative peak arrives when they fine-tune their rage a little.

Take ‘D.M.Z.’, the track at the heart of their debut album Divergences. Named after them, defining them, it is littered with little nuances, showcasing their complete range and is underpinned by a writhing series of polyrhythmic, thunderous assaults. A clever combination of scrawl and crawl, it is real guts and glory stuff and yet it holds enough back to really hit home. Team this with ‘Drowned In Cyan’, another track that, appropriately, floods you with a little bit of everything and you’ll get an idea of just how talented this bunch really are.

Very quickly you’ll unveil their rampant Meshuggah worship, but you’ll catch plenty of The Acacia Strain‘s raging ‘core in there too. The clean, crisp production and vast dynamic range is an absolute thing of beauty allowing for a seamless blend. Yet, despite this and their obvious technical skill, most of the album can rather pass you by. All too often there is the sense that they aren’t taking full advantage here; that they aren’t ramming each point home deeply enough. The album is littered with little game-changing moments but they are too randomly scattered. This cherry-picking from their collective skill-set, can be jaw-dropping when they employ it, yet they need to use these moments to define their songs.

There’s the flicking, enigmatic tapped riff in ‘The Obsidian Fate’, the interesting split-channel switching and slow-motion shred in the title-track, and the fiendish melodic flourishes that lurk in ‘The Refusal Effect’, ‘Drowned In Cyan’ and ‘Pariah’ (which features a welcome guest spot for Heart In Hand vocalist Charlie Holmes). Even Nicolò Carrara’s regular bouts of phlegm-regurgitation or the heart-stopping sub-drops in ‘Heritage‘ and ‘The Refusal Effect‘ all excite. All these things burn brightly enough to transform a stock album into a timeless classic and yet they are just fleeting, quickly-forgotten moments.

Carrara’s one-dimensional vocal doesn’t help either.
- Almighty throat-ripping roar? *ding ding ding*
- Variety of delivery? *fart noise*
Clearly they also need a good tidy-up in the songwriting department, but his vein-bulging vocal angst that seemed such a bonus on the wall-of-sound ragers, like ‘Lost Shores’ and ‘Heritage‘, ends up being a massive weight around their neck when the music cries out for diversity.

For anyone feeling brave enough to tackle Divergences, you really need to know only two things. At its core, there is plenty of solid, workmanlike muscle. At its extremities, there is the potential for better, wilder things yet to be revealed. Damned Spring Fragrantia, hope springs eternal.

Also online @ Heavy Blog Is Heavy = http://www.heavyblogisheavy.com/2013/06/21/damned-spring-fragrantia-divergences

Album Review: Funeral For A Friend - Conduit

The Welsh band Funeral For A Friend have never been ones to rest on their laurels. Generally accepted as a hard-hitting rock group, they have explored a penchant for the alternative and the emotional, to one that conjures easily-accessible, enigmatic, heart-bursting anthems. Now with Rise To Remain’s old drummer, Pat Lundy, on board, they appear ready to travel the Conduit to locate their inner punk.

Without doubt, it’s an album that still features, to some degree, the band’s driven melody, gorgeously rich harmonies and addictive choruses but there is a definite shift of focus towards metal and hardcore. Vocalist Matthew Davies recently neatly summarised the change with the words “it’s a post-hardcore record that is not afraid to drop into some hardcore for good measure.”

Former band member Matthew “Snowskull” Evans has painted a startling cover for Conduit that is oddly reminiscent, like some of those old Slayer albums or Trey Moseley’s artwork for The Chariot’s One Wing. Rest assured though, FFAF’s songwriting hasn’t gone anything like as deep into the chaos as those particular bands regularly do. Despite Davies’ assertions, these additions to the music do feel somewhat forced at times – initially, you may wince at the irksome slips from boisterous verse into slick chorus (lead single “Best Friends and Hospital Beds” and “Travelled” are in a league of their own), but ignoring this, it’s still a clear statement of intent and one that does need multiple plays before sound judgement can be passed.

They certainly don’t go off half-cocked at this crossover monster – even their usually high-end production has trimmed a little off the sides to make way for the added gristle. It’s a full-bore attempt to interweave both their rough and smooth edges and when they manage to segue the two styles effectively the songs can invigorate you. Some go in harder (bruisers like the title-track, “Death Comes To Us All” and “High Castles”), but there’s still plenty of rousing sing-a-long choruses to grab onto. They come thick and fast with “Spine”, “Best Friends…” and “Nails” all liberally doused in colourful, soaring harmonies. What the contrast has highlighted is the minor limitations of Davies’ vocal. There’s no denying his passion, but every now and then, when he peaks and reaches up to hawk out another yelp of anger, his pitch and tone become painfully strained – as an example, the line “How many friends can I lose before it all makes sense” catches him out every single time.

Thankfully, the complex, technical guitar melodics do help to bolster this weakness in his delivery. They form the kind of backdrops that Sylosis would be proud of. One particularly memorable example lies in the jarringly-angular closing segment of “Nails”. The gentle build, tight-as-fuck chorus and crushing ‘core elements are all implemented magnificently. It’s these multiple hues that stick it on a pedestal.

As you journey through, there emerges a noticeable overall lack of track variation but it’s hard to deny the momentum that FFAF build throughout. You do have to wait for “Elements” to provide the deviation the album craves. It really would be the perfect closing track; not overstaying its welcome and melodically-enduring with a gently warbling fade-out. Well, it would be, except that the Hatebreed-lite metalcore tactics of “High Castles” take the honour – “Our words are weapons, they are our shield, our words are weapons, fist by fucking fist” – with over-eager call-and response chicanery.

Having screamed back from the edge of the creative abyss with 2011′s cracking Welcome Home Armageddon, to head back to their EP days and begin re-establishing their love of punk and hardcore makes Conduit a risky album for FFAF to write at this moment in time. Even more so, when you consider just how much metalcore influence there is on this and how much that particular genre has taken a battering over recent years. Thankfully, none of that matters much. There is just enough true grit and spirit powering this offering to really warrant that risk. Conduit is a whole different beast but, most importantly, it’s an album that’s honest and committed and deserving of your attention.

Also online @ The NewReview = http://thenewreview.net/reviews/funeral-for-a-friend-conduit

Album Review: Hatebreed – The Divinity Of Purpose

Once upon a time, whilst walking through a park, a good friend of mine was hassled by a drunk youth for money. Now, usually my mate would run a mile but, at the time, he happened to be listening to Hatebreed on his non-specific portable media player, so instead he proceeded to wind the volume up and dish out a beating that he never thought was in him. He’s sworn himself off the band now and has since become a pacifist. Okay, the last bit of that shaggy dog story was made up (he’s still a total nutjob who loves Hatebreed more than he loves himself – and that’s saying something), but it is a true, if slightly skewed, tale that highlights just how affecting heavy music can be.

Perfectly monikered, the volatile tunage that Hatebreed write, has been specifically designed to breed hate. Unsurprisingly, The Divinity Of Purpose is no different to the rest of their back catalogue, featuring lyrical content that shows these kings of bulging angst remain 100% dedicated to grabbing hold of you by the balls, tearing open your eyes to the grim reality of life today, and strengthening your resolve to it. Think of it as a two-part process. Firstly, they help you realise your weaknesses through association and, secondly, they supply the lyrical tools to empower you by suggesting you use, usually violent, counter-measures to correct your problems. Listening to Hatebreed is like having “Stone Cold” Steve Austin as your counsellor.

As time has passed and their discography has grown, these continual mind grenades should have got a lot older, a lot quicker, but the monster hooks they write and the methods they employ to suck you in, are just so goddamn addictive. From jinking breakdowns and barbaric, pounding rhythms to the vocal fury of call-and-response and the constant, monotonous barracking all suck you into screaming your lungs out, fist-throwing and pitting like you’ve never pitted before.

Take opener “Put It To The Torch” with its thrash-and-core, vein-bulging angst. It’s a simple, 2-minute assertion of dominance designed to incite total mayhem. The track rips straight through to the even harder smackdown of “Honor Never Dies” with hardly a pause for breath. The emotional forethought of how these songs would sound live is palpable. Take the chorus repetition of the purposeful title-track. There’s even a spoken-to-screamed building crescendo wedged in there. The fury of the pit that will explode on the smack of that snare as it all kicks off again is palpable. “Before The Fight Ends You” could have been written with my mate specifically in mind. It’s all remarkably straightforward and to the point with a chorus of “End the fight / Before the fight ends you!”, but that’s Hatebreed all over. And that’s The Divinity Of Purpose all over.

Unlike their last self-titled effort, there is no drop in pace, no “Every Lasting Scar” downtime. Without doubt, the album does what it says on the tin. It’s a savage, single-minded entity. The Renaissance-stylized artwork alone (created by painter Eliran Kantor) tells you just how serious they are about this merciless mission they are on. This is their religion and that’s the main reason why this comes recommended as one of their finer assaults. Having said that, the album’s main strength is also its biggest weakness. The sheer brute force of it is overwhelmingly predictable; one that lacks any level of sophistication or experimentation. Yes, perhaps with this album marking out Hatebreed’s 19th year, they should have offered something fresh, but to go against the grain now, not fully committed, and get it wrong might just ruin their iconic status – then who would my friend turn to when life deals him yet another shitty hand?

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/01/hatebreed-the-divinity-of-purpose-nuclear-blast/

Album Review: Vera Cruz – SkinAndTeethAndNails

Meaning “true cross” the French band Vera Cruz (yes, we’re not talking about the place, the film, the computer virus, the football club or the canyon here) are a group who wear their music influences as badges of honour. They have melded the classic punk of Black Flag and the timeless hardcore of Sick Of It All to the contemporary conglomerate metalcore of acts like Unearth or Evergreen Terrace so that what pours out of them falls somewhere between moshpit crush and raging chaos.

Their debut album, SkinAndTeethAndNails, besides providing the acronym SATAN whilst flaunting an anarchic graffiti-scrawled album cover message imploring you to “Fuck Cops”, goes off with one hell of a bang. The dynamic 1:32 build and crush of “Hopeless Knights” fires up the gang vocals to belt out the chorus for the enigmatic “The Last Of A Dying Breed”. The clean harmonies that mark out “The Family” pitch themselves as a sweetener for lead vocalist Flavian’s furious scrawling which continues to bite on through the speeding mania of “Black Walls” – a track that comes close to touching the crazy of label-mates The Chariot but with a hint of fellow countrymen The Prestige thrown in for good measure. The purposeful, yet ludicrously over-extended, circulating banjo at the track’s end leads neatly into the chord structure of the awesomely menacing “Open Your Eyes”.

From this point on, Vera Cruz rather lose a bit of steam. A large proportion of this latter material has a tendency to disappear from the foreground as the band begin to wander into familiar structures where neck-breaking speed, breakdowns and gang vocals rule. The exciting bone-crunching smack of those first few hits, the sinister psychological edge that was wielded so readily is filtered-out and the insistent metal guitar chugs begin to dominate (they even try to wedge an Iron Maiden gallop into the complex farce that is “The Last Parade”). Only the opportunity to “Walk Alone”, a track whose chorus is strongly reminiscent of Unearth’s “My Will Be Done”, and the dark atmospherics and dense bark of “Dunwich” allow them to come close to leaving another impression.

French metal bands seem to have a knack for imagination and, with SATAN, Vera Cruz have proved they are no different. What they appear to have a tendency to do is suppress it in an attempt to find a crossover metal edge and subsequent parity with their heroes. If they thought bigger, perhaps had a real crack at playing the wildcard that they are clearly holding, they could really blow some minds.



Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2012/11/vera-cruz-skinandteethandnails-season-of-mist/