Yer Metal Is Olde: Enslaved – Isa

By Dolphin Whisperer

Not a single band out there really sounds like Enslaved—arguably modern Enslaved records included, many of which have landed mixed in these halls. But one thing is consistent in the Angry Metal Guy message: Enslaved’s peak period produced timeless records that should sit atop the rankings of many a list. For many, myself included, that run extends from 2003’s Below the Lights to 2008’s Vertebrae, each incorporating different progressive and psychedelic ideas into Enslaved’s already idiosyncratic black metal approach.

Isa sits at a crossroads. Under the tutelage of Dennis Reksten, who had teamed up with Enslaved at the ripe age of 50,1 the past few albums received a smattering of spacey synth ambience that allowed Enslaved to explore a new dimension in their craft, culminating in 2003’s Below the Lights. But for Isa Enslaved looked to the electronic and crooning talents of Herbrand Larsen, a young audio engineer who had helped those same albums animate and glisten. The shift in personnel brought with it a shift in drama. Not to say that prior works had lacked that kind of tension, but with lesser Viking swagger,2 Isa rolls in its atmosphere through alien soundscapes and vicious harsh vocal cut-ins, with Grutle Kjellson’s inimitable, phlegmy rasp sitting dead center between twisting guitar lines and Larsen’s background counterpoint. No matter how strange and beautiful, Isa remains rooted in the brooding nature of Enslaved’s wintery, black metal identity.

In a manner that eludes many who play for Enslaved’s crown, Isa boasts a brilliant and otherworldly sense of guitar tone that provides and slice and crunch to heroic compositions. Bolstered frequencies lift the snarl of creeping tremolo runs with the weight of Kjellson’s crackling howls into reckoning rolls of Heimdall-weighed power (“Lunar Force,” “Violet Drawing”). Harmonic, heavy-handed, trv metal chords crash down with a classic, grooving beat to swirl a patterned Norse fury among pained wails and into resplendent, progressive modulations (“Bounded by Allegiance,” “Return to Yggdrasil”). Still Enslaved finds a firm footing in black metal, forging Bathory-infused riffage with anthemic tension and classic head-stacked energy to break up any lull in mood that Isa’s narrative lilts present (“Isa,” “Secrets of the Flesh”). And when fresh-at-the-time axe-slinger Ice Dale (Audrey Horne) slips loose with treble-knockin’, tricky blues solos (“Bounded…,” “Neogenesis”), his free and flamboyant style oozes with charisma.

Isa’s breakout and break-though progressive escapades give it the full life force for which Enslaved had been aiming with their earlier experimentations. Though never quite as out there as Norwegian neighbors Borknagar or Arcturus, Enslaved sense of cinema expanded through Isa via bookend atmospherics (“Intro,” “Outro”) and similarly-toned chord reprisals that reinforce the empyrean vibrations throughout every track. The gentle piano punctuation on “Lunar Force” gives shimmering, moonlight assist to the already gothic allure of its foremost stride. You can feel the arena swing that the now legendary, leaned-back Dale supplies to “Isa” and “Bounded by Allegiance” part in reverence to chorus breakaways, harmonized chants, and fluttering acoustics, only to return with additional amplified impact—crushing and unified attack. Isa lives on the edge of crescendo, with its first potential peak (“Bounded…”) ending in a hard stop before yet another catastrophic riff climb, which allows its twelve-minute epic “Neogenesis” the proper environment to build, to soar, to entrance with the majesty that it should. While no strangers to epic narrative, Enslaved used Isa to cement their legacy as masters.

If you ask a dozen Enslaved fans who find their aughts work to be their pinnacle, you may not always hear Isa come out as the dominant choice and for good reason. Much of the songwriting flex that Isa showcases presents in different fashions on many of this celebrated band’s works in that time frame. Whether the stronger gallop of Below the Lights, the heavier-handed psychedelia of Monumension or Ruun, or the near pure progressive romp of Vertebrae, Enslaved has many faces that they’ve worn well and better than other bands. But Isa stands alone for me as the balance of collective visions in the form of a well-armored black metal warrior—an album worthy of adoration from diverse angles of metallic enjoyment.

#2004 #2024 #BlackMetal #Enslaved #Isa #NorwegianMetal #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveMetal #TabuRecordings #VikingMetal #YerMetalIsOlde

Yer Metal Is Olde: Monstrosity – In Dark Purity

By Maddog

The year is 1999. Valfar is alive, but Billie Eilish is not. Yours truly enjoys one last year of freedom before kindergarten. Bruce and Adrian rejoin Iron Maiden, and Madonna’s Ray of Light celebrates its first birthday. In the background, death metal mutates. Brutality proliferates; Suffocation has disbanded (for now), but Cryptopsy, Dying Fetus, Nile, and Deeds of Flesh have hit the scene. Technicality flourishes, as Necrophagist and Decapitated prepare to release superhuman debuts. Gorguts’ Obscura has ushered in a decades-long march toward dissonance. Death has proggified death metal forever, releasing their swansong a few months prior. Opeth is doing Opeth stuff. Meanwhile, vintage death metal is not dead, but it sputters. Titans like Morbid Angel and Deicide have already released their most iconic works; indeed, few of the old guard (save Immolation and perhaps Cannibal Corpse​​) have excellent studio albums in their future.

Amidst this turmoil, Florida’s Monstrosity hangs by a thread. After releasing a stellar sophomore record Millennium in 1996, the band lost both its vocalist (Corpsegrinder, poached by Cannibal Corpse) and its guitarist. After replacing them and experiencing another round of guitarist turnover,1 Monstrosity trudges to the studio and records In Dark Purity. Against all odds, the album is an icon. More polished than Millennium, In Dark Purity builds on the ABC’s of death metal without mimicking its ancestors. Unlike the truly experimental artists of their era, Monstrosity trounces the listener with chunky mid-paced riffs. On face, their guitar-centric attack may seem akin to the likes of Cannibal Corpse, but Monstrosity innovates around the edges. Ever-evolving rhythms keep your neck on its toes, off-kilter melodies add character, and the tempo ranges from Autopsy to Deicide. Both thrilling and unmistakable, In Dark Purity outshines most of death metal’s classics.

In Dark Purity’s most enduring feature is its creativity. Tinged with Death, the album’s nonstandard rhythms induce delicious whiplash and break free of genre shackles (“In Dark Purity”). While Lee Harrison’s drums aren’t flashy, they spring to life in support. The most potent example is “Perpetual War,” whose fluid drum performance and furious riffs make it one of the greatest tracks of the 1990s. Not to be outdone, Monstrosity’s melodies embrace subtle strangeness as well. Channeling Slayer’s Hell Awaits, Monstrosity’s accidentals and hopscotching riffs stand out among the overcrowded Florida swamps (“Hymns of Tragedy”). While Kelly Conlon’s (Death) bass presence is subtle, he bubbles to the surface with some delectably wonky backbone melodies (“Shapeless Domination”). For all their creativity, Monstrosity never innovates for innovation’s sake; rather, In Dark Purity’s power grows with each quirk. The flailing solo of “Shapeless Domination” wouldn’t hit as hard without Harrison’s wild tom fills or its truncated measures, and the most neck-snapping segments of “Perpetual War” are its nine-beat extravaganzas. Monstrosity’s take on death metal stands apart.

Fear not; In Dark Purity is brainy, but it’s a bonanza of bangers. The album’s most well-known track is “Destroying Divinity,” whose explosive main theme kicks off the proceedings with a bang. In Dark Purity shines brightest during its climaxes, which are often dumb fun. For instance, “Suffering to the Conquered” uses a tranquil Azagthothian solo to lead into a three-chord riff that rocks me every time. Jason Avery’s fearsome growls raise these moments into the thermosphere, and “The legions gather // They form behind their king // Suffering to the conquered // Left dead for all to see // Pray for the impaler” raises the bar for the genre. At times, In Dark Purity’s brain and its heart join hands, like the pummeling crescendos of “The Angels [sic] Venom.” From its simple firestorms to its adventurous compositions, In Dark Purity is a spectacle.

Having reached the age-old crossroads between thoughtful songwriting and sick riffs, Monstrosity chose both. In doing so, they forged an album that’s both immediate and timeless. In Dark Purity was one of the first death metal records to capture my heart in my mid-teens. In the years since, as I’ve felt out its nooks and crannies, my love has only grown. Most impressively, Monstrosity is still alive and well, with 2018’s The Passage of Existence breaking our very own score counter. And their 2 AM set aboard 70K last January was likely the greatest death metal show I’ve ever experienced. Whether you’re a long-time Monstrosity fan or a newcomer, you owe In Dark Purity a spin.

#1999 #2024 #AmericanMetal #CannibalCorpse #DeathMetal #InDarkPurity #Monstrosity #OlympicRecordings #Slayer #YerMetalIsOlde

Yer Metal Is Olde: Fates Warning – FWX

By Dolphin Whisperer

Thirty-five years ago, Fates Warning solidified their shift from torchbearers of US power metal with 1989’s Perfect Symmetry, forever moving their progressive path away from power metal and into an emotional, twisting fusion of playful and grooving tunes that no one has assembled quite the same way since. Primary songwriter and guitarist Jim Matheos has anchored the Fates Warning playbook throughout all these changes—from wizards and wailing (Night on Bröcken1 to The Spectre Within), to Rushin’ and rollin’, and to the edges of Fates Warning’s technical limits. So then, already twenty-plus years into their career at the launch of FWX, what left had Matheos and co. to explore with the Fates sound?

Leaning into similar ideas with which Matheos had already been exploring with his OSI project, FWX does touch down on organic ambience, pulsing electronic rhythms, and hypnotic guitar loops that pushed the Fates Warning boundaries into an alternative rock-inflected territory. At the turn of the ’00s, it wasn’t uncommon to hear a creeping Portis/Radiohead influence in downcast music, and from a similar timeframe you can hear this same exploration in Porcupine Tree works, Deadwing in particular, so hearing this flair in retrospect doesn’t feel too out of place. But at the time of its release, despite Fates Warning never lacking in overdriven riffs that build great songs in a wide range of progressive manners—eclectic but not particularly experimental—FWX did not land widespread critical acclaim.

The first time FWX graced my ears in full, its lack of progressive grandeur, namely in the histrionic solo department, took me aback. At the tail end of a career loaded with technical highlights and in a scene growing populated-to-bursting with descendants of the Dream Theater/Symphony X school of excess, Fates Warning built with a different kind of virtuosity—meticulous kit grooves, delayed chord loops, recursive and swelling melodies. In that lane, Matheos finds a kind of guitar-driven power that lands both more immediate in force and more playful in counterpoint layering than anything Fates Warning had produced since their landmark Parallels. The primary pattern of “Simple Human” crushes against doubling bass pulses and slinky, scattered high-frequency chord stabs; the doom-weighted drag of “Crawl” guides a laser-precise lead warble to crescendo; the high energy strum-stride of “Stranger (With a Familiar Face)”—FWX simply shouts its extremities where albums before it required a focused digestion.

But the shift from tactical flex serves twofold, with FWX riding a wave of emotion in a subdued manner, giving greater weight to its themes. Ray Alder had plenty already led his dramatic pipes to the softer identities of classic cuts like “Leave the Past Behind“2 (Parallels, 1991) or “Shelter Me” (Inside Out, 1993). Age graced Alder’s voice kindly, though, allowing him to find a lower register to inject increased doses of pathos into playful odes to depression (“Another Perfect Day”) and persistent negative thoughts (“Handful of Doubt”). Most importantly, time had also left scars enough to cap off FWX with one of Fates’ most beautiful tracks, “Wish,” where his pleading cry matches Matheos’ heartbeat-hum guitar pickings and mournful solo. In an album that already indulges in stellar songcraft, Alder’s success keeps FWX worth revisiting over and over.

As if this lineup for Fates Warning—the last of its kind as long-time drummer Mark Zonder, master of his craft, would not return for the 2013 follow-up—needed additional fuel for success, this streamlining approach yielded a timeless sound that I’ve been exploring for well over fifteen years. I’ve cried to FWX. I’ve also celebrated with FWX. I have loved and lost and loved again, watched people drift away while I blame myself or the world around me, finding solace in its dark and plaintive themes while enraptured by its dreamy and thundering soundscape. For a long time, FWX seemed like an unplanned farewell. And though Fates Warning has not officially hung up the spurs yet, “Wish” will always feel like a send-off filled not with regret but acceptance. That’s the beauty of iconic albums in our own listening history. Whether it’s what I need or what I want, spinning FWX turns any time into a time full of peak-quality tunes.

#2004 #2024 #AmericanMetal #FatesWarning #FWX #MetalBladeRecords #PorcupineTree #Portishead #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveRock #Radiohead #Rush #YerMetalIsOlde

Yer Metal Is Olde: Pain of Salvation – One Hour by the Concrete Lake

By Dolphin Whisperer

Music consumption looks much different today than it did in 1999. Hot new radio singles have become algorithmically or otherwise boosted pushes on major streaming services. Deluges of notifications from Bandcamp, Facebook/Instagram, and highly esteemed review sites have supplanted the physical zine scene.1 Various online chatter spaces with easy methods of sharing links,2 information, digital files have plowed over tape-trading, mix-disc swapping, and forcing your friends brazenly to plug into your extreme musical wiles. This is all to say that dates of releases find an easier path to peeping eyes, and archival data sits more completely from a variety of sources. So the oddity that Pain of Salvation’s sophomore album One Hour by the Concrete Lake emerged as the first available album for an majority of release regions just wouldn’t happen in the world of 2024.

Originally released in 1998 via Japanese label Avalon, One Hour wouldn’t make it to Europe and North America until 1999 via InsideOut Music, which also happened to be before that same entity re-issued PoS’s debut, Entropia (1997 release via Avalon). What’s important, though, particularly to the ethos of this kind of feature, is that One Hour explores themes of environmental waste and resource injustice that feel as applicable now as then, however idealistic in view—the liner notes even have environmental studies and other works cited. In this bleeding heart ethos and yet-to-crystalize PoS identity, One Hour, musically, flips about synth tones of metallic moods that fit more with peers of the day Dream Theater and Queensrÿche than earlier (or later) works do. But as the title track breaks way to “Inside,” there’s an undeniable rhythmic persistence that matches vocalist Daniel Gildenlöw’s chiseled and flamboyant persona that, for better or worse, defines all Pain of Salvation releases.

Yet, the idea that Pain of Salvation is a band more of a certain time in style defines the uniqueness that One Hour has to offer. Birthed in a 90s rock and metal scene forever changed by grunge, Pain of Salvation has often had a knack for working muddy and moody guitar sounds about their intricate and intimate works. Blowout tones force tracks like “New Year’s Eve,” “Water,” and “Black Hills” to crash against bright and melodic contrast, which allows triumphant crescendos to squirm into sonically moistened ears. And into these buttered receptacles PoS can also inject the out-of-place, late-album, mostly acoustic ballad “Pilgrim,” ripe with cheese and drama, with the preceding journey through auditory grit helping its brief run feel earned.

Bookended by companion pieces “Inside” and “Inside Out,” One Hour’s structure is not as adventurous as later material,3 but its traditional approach allows its departures and message to come through with an extravagant focus. The early “count this” challenge of “Handful of Nothing” and the last syncopated frenzy of “Shore Serenity” stand out like prog-pinched thumbs against the smoothed-out flow between other tracks. And, in turn, the simpler load of “Water” flowing with a natural grace into “Home” delivers tidy but still tempo-tricky in the high tide of Gildenlöw’s prog-hippie lamentations. One Hour forces itself to bend against its own ideas.

Likewise, One Hour by the Concrete Lake stands in a long line of Pain of Salvation excursions that are reactions to their own work and outside perceptions. With One Hour featuring more double-kick runs than any other album their future would hold, Pain of Salvation set out to show the world that, yes, you can call them metal. And as the proverbial tongue out to that same sentiment, its sappiest features aim to be a quirk in the whole to which one must grow accustomed. One Hour’s early placement in the band’s discography means that it didn’t have to make as hard a left turn as ’07’s Scarsick or the Road Salt albums later would. And in its youth, it playfully flips the sounds that built one side of progressive metal—the Gentle Giant prog mania, the Pink Floyd waning, the amp-toned riffs of classic rock—to be flashy in a way that most modern progressive music isn’t. So if you’ve never snorted the manbun metallers Pain of Salvation, consider One Hour by the Concrete Lake to be your way in like so many accidentally did way back when. And if you’ve overlooked this release in the wake of its more acclaimed follow-ups, well… don’t!4

#1998 #1999 #2024 #DreamTheater #GentleGiant #InsideOutRecords #OneHourByTheConcreteLake #PainOfSalvation #PinkFloyd #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveRock #Queensryche #SwedishMetal #YerMetalIsOlde

Yer Metal is Olde: Mastodon – Leviathan

By Saunders

Back in their early days, Atlanta’s progressive sludge juggernaut Mastodon could do little wrong. I remember perusing my local independent record store and being taken by the striking artwork and Relapse seal of approval on 2002’s debut Remission, roughly around the time of its release. After being crushed and destroyed by the iconic opening track, my love affair with Mastodon began. I have experienced the highs and lows of the band’s storied career; from the magical peak from Remission to 2009’s masterwork Crack the Skye, through the more streamlined and uneven period of the past decade-plus, turning these once critical darlings into a divisive, though wildly successful act. Yet I’ve never truly disliked a Mastodon album, enjoying their modern work on a lesser scale while acknowledging their peak days are well behind them. But it was their early material that solidified my love for the band. This is all a long-winded way to introduce their colossal sophomore opus and modern classic Leviathan as the latest inductee in the Halls of Olde to mark its twentieth anniversary.

Whereas the explosive Remission was a raw, ugly, abrasive slab of sludgy, grinding extreme metal with a subtly ambitious streak and technical edge, 2004’s Leviathan marked a more refined, adventurous, and progressive shift. Still boasting a heaving, thunderous punch, Leviathan’s musical template formed a perfect match with the album’s epic conceptual narrative, based on the classic novel Moby Dick by American writer Herman Melville. Aside from the increasingly varied moods, textures, and melodic and progified leanings, Leviathan’s double-pronged vocal assault began to evolve in appealing, contrasting ways, dabbling in cleaner vocal hooks and dynamic trade-offs. The vocal diversity was further bolstered by quality contributions from Clutch frontman Neil Fallon and Scott Kelly (Neurosis). Meanwhile, the intimidating instrumental skills of the band’s four members were pushed and taken to new levels, broadening their sonic palette and exploring rich, intricate progressive territories, from mellower channels to the predominant ironclad riffage and roughened, sludge-driven heft.

It’s easy to marvel at Leviathan’s attention to detail, ambitiously complex arrangements, emotional depth, and outstanding musicianship. However, these varied elements are always in service of quality, memorable songcraft, and grounded maturity, impressing so early in the band’s career. Raw, riffy, and adrenaline-spiking, “Blood and Thunder” is a classic opener and perfect introduction to the album, beefed up by a superbly burly guest performance by Fallon. Aside from the sprawling length, gorgeous melodies, and shifting tides of the epic “Hearts Alive,” for all its proggy intricacies and grand scale, Leviathan is a remarkably focused and compact album, packing tons of cool ideas into tightly packed and memorable tunes. Ruggedly built, catchy, and aggressive songs like “I am Ahab,” “Island,” “Iron Tusk” and the driving, thrashy “Aqua Dementia” contrast neatly against their melodic counterparts, such as the psych-drenched excellence and earworm hooks of “Seabeast,” featuring woozy melodies and a crushing climax. “Naked Burn” follows a similarly trippy trajectory to ‘Seabeast,” again showcasing the spidery axework of Brent Hinds and Brett Kelliher, while Hinds’ developing cleans deliver memorable vocal hooks.

Leviathan has an excellent flow, and the pacing and sequencing are fluid and slick, while the songwriting quality retains a high standard throughout. On their journey, Mastodon took some brave and challenging risks and leaps forward on Leviathan, without sacrificing heaviness or their rough-edged roots. In particular, the clean yet gritty production and unrefined cleaner vocal choices contain an endearing charm that holds up well twenty years after its release. Brann Dailor’s restlessly inventive drumming may not work for all listeners. Still, I remain in awe of his incredible chops and how they complement the technical and endlessly interesting guitar work, not to mention the mighty bellows and low-end muscle of Troy Sanders.

Musically, Mastodon branched well beyond sludge confines to embrace their progressive inclinations, classic rock influences, and southern roots, crafting tune after tune of intriguing, clever arrangements loaded with layers to peel back and reveal, along with a slew of instantly gratifying hooks. Brawny sludge rock punch intertwines with brainy prog metal and technical nuance to awesomely cohesive and memorable effect. Leviathan is a timeless album, a classic example of Mastodon operating at the peak of their powers, and arguably their crowning achievement. And like any album worthy of Yer Metal is Olde treatment, Leviathan remains an influential pillar that still sounds fresh, innovative, and exciting to this day.

#2004 #2024 #AmericanMetal #Leviathan #Mastodon #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveSludge #RelapseRecords #Review #Reviews #Sludge #YerMetalIsOlde