Misfire – Sympathy For The Ignorant (MNRK Heavy)

It is clear from the outset that Chicago thrash three-piece Misfire have spent some time listening to Cowboys From Hell (Atco). Not only is there some ultra-tight rhythm and groove to their arsenal, with ‘Death Trap’ in particular hitting that ‘Domination’ pummell, but the vocals sit neatly in mohawked Anselmo mid-range snarl, with a nice dose of Phil Rind thrown in for good measure. With a sound that fits neatly in the Exhorder, Testament, Sacred Reich pocket, Sympathy For The Ignorant is a strong first foray for the trio.

The general dynamic isn’t too far from the Power Trip school of focusing a song around a memorable, chunky riff that acts as an anchor, with a barked slogan (usually the title) for a chorus hook – a worthy, tried and tested method that works particularly well in ‘Red Flag’ and ‘War Of Mine’. ‘R.I.P’ is the rager in the pack, the down-picking chugs let off the leash somewhat, and the title track plays a nice role in closing the album out as a more considered, mature offering.

There is scope for improvement in the lyrical department, and in consistency of quality when they do deviate from the mean, but an impressive and worthwhile first stomp with no misfiring to boot.

7 / 10

Stengah – Soma Sema (Mascot Label Group)

You’d be forgiven for thinking French-metallers Stengah show their hand too early as the first two tracks proper ‘At The Behest Of Origins’ and ‘Above Inhumanity’ lurch by, all angular and reminiscent of Meshuggah and Gojira. Perhaps it’s a deliberate bit of confirmation bias – a French progressive metal band is always going to be influenced by Gojira, and they share a name with a Meshuggah track, right?

But the reward is in pushing past the obvious and waiting out the sleight of hand for the true reveal to take place. For this is when Soma Sema shows its rightful class and colours. ‘Message In Memories’ holds ground as the central point and highlight of the album – the longest, most diverse and most interesting track on offer, meandering into more melodic, expansive almost Tool-type territory as the vocals move beyond the traditional and established bark and howl around a faint melody line, into chants and croons in a way that really works, with a middle-eight that could have been borrowed from earthtone9. Underneath, the djent elasticity still holds the reins, and the pace is pushed and pulled as Stengah propel themselves through dynamically their strongest song. They do well to follow it up with the open space of the first minute of ‘Black Masses Inheritance’, before dragging us into the tar of the rest of an impenetrable and powerful deep cut.

There is a default reliance on the standard rhythm and click of djent and tech metal that Stengah fall back on perhaps a little too often (indeed, the two tracks just mentioned are followed by ‘He and the Sea’ which doesn’t serve the progression of the album, or their sound, all that well), but this is a very proficient and promising debut that is worthy of your time and has enough of its own identity to establish its protagonists in the chaosphere.

7 / 10

 

Slægt – Goddess (Century Media)

Tribulation is a very good starting point if you’re wondering what type of blackened thunder Danish quartet Slægt bring, and their fourth album, and first for new home Century Media, Goddess is the perfect opportunity to begin your journey of revelation and worship of their deity.

Everything you need to know is in the eleven-minute labyrinthine unwinding of the closing title track. Though, by this point you have been converted, treated as you have been to an intriguing array of prog and heavy metal charred by skilled hands. You’ve tasted blackened thrash, cauterized Opethian moments and singed NWOBHM (Di’anno-era Maiden) riffs. Asrok has croaked his Satyrian messages and musings, finding ways to plant iniquitous hooks in your mind, and Anders M. Jørgensen has caressed your ears with twanging and dancing licks and motifs. And then ‘Goddess’ is going to take you through a serpentine journey, reliving all of those moments, from entrancing verses via a spiralling lead duel into pounding blasts. “Show me your scars that lead to the path through the night and beyond!” is implored with a sense of theatre and drama that betrays a love of the progressive blackened metal of the mid-nineties – the time and sound that established Century Media, it should be noted.

Come be ‘Deceived By An Amethyst’, in all its melodic, angular bluster and gothic spicule, before taking a venomous ‘Kiss From A Knife’, and it’s thrashy barbs, before feeingl the discordant ebonized post-punk of ‘Fealty, Thunder Whip’. In the ways of all the best things, this Goddess shares her wares fully most gradually, and with repeat visits to her shrine proving increasingly more fruitful.

 

8 / 10

 

Sum of R – Lahbryce (Consouling Sounds)

A gorgeous demonic hypnosis is invoked by the opening churn of ‘Sink As I’ and a trance is begun that is only released when Sum of R snap you out of it through their jarring, uncomfortable choice. Relentlessly pushing towards the darkness, the eight minutes of the opening churn and sprawl, taking us from an Hammer Horro retro vibe to a powerful exorcism as the chameleonic Marco Neuman switches from off-kilter sixties occult cleans to Mephistophelian howls over granite riffs creating an oppressive and impressive atmosphere reminiscent of Amenra at their darkest.

‘Crown of Diseased’ follows, juxtaposing, and is both spacious and brooding, and anxious and claustrophobic, a stretched soundtrack to a psychological film, all synths and swathes, and Neuman’s horrific exhalations. ‘Borderline’ returns us to a trance-state before awakening the beast with a lurching post-metal sludge-tinged build that exits with a psych-tinged comedown. The hypnotic swirl, featuring a playful synth motif, of ‘The Problem’ paired with ‘Hymn For The Formless’ achieves the same dynamic impact; patient, with the harsh vocals adding a serrated edge to the broiling build-up and pay-off in the latter.

Lahbryce is not a friendly or gentle catharsis. It is the sound of internal interrogation, of reflection and wrangling. At times, its power is scary, with Neuman’s harrowing vocals having the same impact that the shrieks and pained expulsions that blackened the neoclassical synth act Elend managed on Les Ténèbres du Dehors (Holy).

No longer the musical musings and instrumental experimentations of Reto Mäder alone, by joining forces with Jukka Rämänen (Dark Buddha Rising, Hexvessel, Waste Of Space Orchestra) and Neuman, Mäder has created something of significant dark power and depth.

8 / 10

 

STEVE TOVEY