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AMG Goes Ranking – Whitechapel

By Dear Hollow

The life of the unpaid, overworked metal reviewer is not an easy one. The reviewing collective at AMG lurches from one new release to the next, errors and n00bs strewn in our wake. But what if, once in a while, the collective paused to take stock and consider the discography of those bands that shaped many a taste? What if multiple aspects of the AMG collective personality shared with the slavering masses their personal rankings of that discography, and what if the rest of the personality used a Google sheet some kind of dark magic to produce an official guide to, and an all-around definitive aggregated ranking of, that band’s entire discography? Well, if that happened, we imagine it would look something like this…

Usually, when we do something like this, it increases our street cred in the underground, but I’m dead-set on ensuring our cred goes up in flames. This is Whitechapel, the epitome of why boomer metalheads yell at young ‘uns. For a hot minute, the Nashville juggernaut was ranked among the likes of Suicide Silence, Job for a Cowboy, and Carnifex, thanks to their brutalizing and divisive attack of deathcore. Toss in some lyrics about slaughtering prostitutes in 1880s London, and you’ve got yourself a recipe for millennial Hot Topic fandom.1 In retrospect, however, thanks to the act’s historic three-guitar attack and the iconic performances of vocalist Phil Bozeman, their whole “Cookie Monster with breakdowns” thing was a cut above the rest. I say that not just because I was a teen raised as an evangelical not allowed to listen to “This is Exile” and “Possession” (but secretly did anyway), although I’m sure that plays a very minor part.

Contrary to other long-running deathcore acts like Suicide Silence and Chelsea Grin, flexibility has been the key to Whitechapel’s longevity. Three distinct eras emerge: (1) deathcore for spooky Hot Topic frequenters (2006-2010), (2) chuggy minimalist deathcore (2012-2016),2 and (3) deathcore for Phil Bozeman to unpack personal traumas (2019-2021). With that, in anticipation for the upcoming “return to roots” release Hymns to Dissonance, let’s revisit the eight albums of Whitechapel, that deathcore band you stopped listening to because geezers said deathcore was lame.

Dear Hollow

Dear Hollow

#8. The Somatic Defilement (2007) – The influence of this album cannot be understated, but its crisis of murky grime and polished clarity – with a never-again-addressed orchestral flare – makes Whitechapel’s first official foray a confused album, nonetheless worthy of the likes of Suicide Silence and Carnifex. Punishment front and center with a murderizing theme that reflected its Jack the Ripper-inspired moniker, there’s a lot of chunky breakdowns and Phil’s absolutely vicious vocals in their fledgling stage, reflected in chunky hatred (“Fairy Fay,” “Ear to Ear”) and shining riffage that cut through the murk (“Vicer Exciser”). Plenty gained with few highlights.

#7. Our Endless War (2014) – Located smack-dab between two other albums stuck in existential crisis, Our Endless War is the pinnacle of the whole cringeworthy “the saw is the law” schtick (sorry Sodom), paired with questionable production choices and simultaneously too much and too little Meshuggah-isms. While tracks like “Let Me Burn” and “Diggs Road” kick some serious ass, the album is doomed by excessive vocal layering and unnecessary songwriting choices. While it benefits most heartily from the three-guitar attack and feels the heftiest of its era, slow bruisers (“The Saw is the Law”) feel stuck in the dense muck and more allegro offerings (“Our Endless War,” “Mono”) can’t seem to keep up.

#6. Mark of the Blade (2016) – It’s not that this one is bad, but it’s often overshadowed by the album that emerged next, as “Bring Me Home” and “Decennium” introduced clean vocals. While retaining the saw imagery and three guitars layered for maximum heft, Mark of the Blade cleans up the obscene murk for a more organic and rhythmic album that is heavy on punishment (“The Void,” “Tremors,”), surprisingly catchy and anthemic in its structure (“Elitist Ones”), and experimental enough for a human touch (“Bring Me Home”). It’s the punchiest of its era, with drummer Ben Harclerode making his last appearance on a Whitechapel album.

#5. Whitechapel (2014) – A landmark album in its own right, this self-titled effort saw Whitechapel cutting the excess from their sound into a lean, mean, killing machine. Groove shining in the spotlight, its starkness allows more freedom, as tracks can delve into more ominous atmospheres and different instrumental tricks (“Make Them Bleed,” “I, Dementia”). However, like any good Whitechapel album, the triple-pronged groove aligns wonderfully with Phil Bozeman’s most menacing performance, descending the tracks into a nadir of darkness and Meshuggah-esque ferity (“Dead Silence,” “Devoid”). A start of a new era.

#4. Kin (2021) – Everything that made The Valley so effective, but with more of the Tennessee flair and a more polished feel. Whitechapel explores the cleanly sung and the wailing guitar solos, enacting a beautiful and yearning feel that doesn’t descend into the bleakness of its predecessor but rather looks upon it as lessons learned. It maintains heaviness even if it is less feral than much of its discography – all for the sake of emotion. With more of Bozeman’s cleans contrasting with that trademark density (“Anticure,” “History is Silent,” “Orphan”), an instrumental and technical theatricality (“Without Us,” “A Bloodsoaked Symphony”), and a slightly Tool-esque edge (“Lost Boy,” “Kin”), it leaves trauma and torture in the rearview.

#3. This is Exile (2008) – As the only album more popular than The Somatic Defilement, it gets extra points for its influence – but the mania at its core has never quite been replicated. While its predecessor had enough chunky breakdowns to kill a grown elephant and This is Exile has its fair share of mindless chug (“Possession,” “Somatically Incorrect”), a palpable groove and wild technicality keeps things both grounded and utterly batshit (“Father of Lies,” “To All That Are Dead”). Yes, the back half finds itself dwelling more in hellish menace than punishment (“Death Becomes Him,” “Messiahbolical”), but for many an introduction to Bozeman’s unmistakable roar and a chaotic technicality that left Suicide Silence in the dust, it was pure deathcore nirvana.

#2. A New Era of Corruption (2010) – While not as popular as This is Exile, A New Era of Corruption is everything its predecessor was and more. Whitechapel amps the dystopian and anti-religious themes with a stunning blend of its early era colossal chunk and a good use of techy leads and dissonant swells, as tracks feel more mature, fleshed out, and purposeful (“Breeding Violence,” “End of Flesh”), the darkness of progress’ terrible cost seeping through (“The Darkest Day of Man,” “Necromechanical”), and a chunky charisma not unlike The Acacia Strain (“Reprogrammed to Hate,” “Murder Sermon”3). A New Era of Corruption was the pinnacle of Whitechapel before its self-titled reinvention.

#1. The Valley (2019) – Bozeman’s cleans in The Valley were a landmark in deathcore’s storied and bloody history, but more impressive is that Whitechapel remained remarkably deathcore – if not more devastating – in spite of them. Cutthroat brutality remained first and foremost, with shredding guitars filling every emotional crevasse (“Forgiveness is Weakness,” “Brimstone,” “Black Bear”), while clean vocals are used as moments of yearning vulnerability and hopelessness (“When a Demon Defiles a Witch,” “Hickory Creek,” “Third Depth”) and apathetic sprawls of godless wilderness reflect an existential emptiness (“We Are One,” “Doom Woods”). It’s an unflinching discussion of pain and trauma in the derelict corners of Tennessee and a vintage horror movie aesthetic that meshes surprisingly perfectly. The Valley is a balancing act of vicious and heartfelt, a monument for deathcore and -core styles in general, seeing Whitechapel’s longevity fully established. Every emotion on the spectrum is present on The Valley, an outstretched hand shrouded by the weight of doom and dread.

Alekhines Gun

For many, deathcore represents the gateway drug to heavy music, enjoyed in your youth before you mature into “real metal” proper, discarding breakdowns and angsty lyrics for reflections on the time signatures of the universe and bigger song structures. Not so, say Whitechapel. Since erupting from the ether in 2006 and dropping their first album a mere year later, this band has remained a fixture in the metal world at large, ever growing in popularity and under the disapproving eyes of genre purists everywhere. Tours opening for the likes of Cannibal Corpse and The Black Dahlia Murder while having such luminaries as Cattle Decapitation and Archspire opening for them have established them as breakdown-heaving mainstays in a world of vests and guitar solos. To celebrate their newest release, we have opted to don our Wvmps and Pvsers hats and rank their discog for your disapproval. You gosh darn elitist ones…

#8. Our Endless War – The last descent into full-on arena-bent mindless groove, Our Endless War finds Whitechapel spinning their wheels with gleeful abandon. Any sense of techy approaches or interesting guitar was stripped down, in favor of a continued distillation of simplistic grooves over Meshuggah-In-Denial tones. Buoyed by the smash hit “The Saw is The Law” – essentially the “Living on a Prayer” of deathcore – Our Endless War is bland, inoffensive, and an easy choice for the bottom of the list. It’s catchy enough – a smooth, sanded-down object of easy grooves and basic-tier breakdowns with Bozeman’s vocals drowning out the riffs as if to hide how boring they are. Tailormade for an alternate universe where heavy music is played in elevators, Our Endless War is bland, easily digestible comfort food.

#7. Mark of the Blade – Still overly polished, still easy-listening, Mark of the Blade at least flows better as an entire album rather than merely being a factory-assembled collection of grooves. Here, the first merciful signs of restlessness in the Whitechapel camp began to be felt. “Dwell in the Shadows” and “Brotherhood” broke out some swell guitar playing, which was almost entirely lacking in Our Endless War, while “Bring Me Home” finally debuted those Heckin’GoshDarn clean vocals and much more dynamic songwriting. It helps that they managed to write a second “The Saw is The Law” in “The Mark of the Blade” to keep their ability for instant catchiness on display. All in all, Mark of the Blade manages to be slightly more interesting than its predecessor, as well as be the bookend of one era for Whitechapel while ushering in the next.

#6. The Somatic Defilement – This is a fun debut ruined by some moderately whack production. Much deathcore at the time had a strange predilection for light switch-click sounding drums and guitar tones thick as plywood, and just as crunchy. The Somatic Defilement overcomes this on the strength of its songwriting. Already avoiding the dubstep style tension-build-and-release permeating breakdowns, Whitechapel emerged from the nothingness fully formed and with a set musical vision. Its youthfulness overcomes its tonal flaws, and its roughhewn edges stand as a stark contrast to what would come later.

#5. The Valley – The first major shift in the Whitechapel sound since their self-titled, The Valley sees the band putting on the closest thing they had to prog boots. Featuring oodles and stroodles of emotive (though unfairly derided as emo) clean singing, acoustic passages and honest-to-goodness ballads, the band attempt to take the listener on a musical journey rather than merely offer up a collection of violent snippets. Songs like “Third Depth” tries to mesh the disparaging sounds with mixed results, while bouncing between tracks like “Forgiveness is Weakness” and “Hickory Creek” keep the listener in a state of tonal whiplash. Not quite as consistent as what would come later, The Valley is still an interesting addition to the Whitechapel canon for its efforts, if not quite its delivery.

#4. Whitechapel – On the heels of a pair of monster successes, the self-titled dropped and announced an immediate bid for stardom. Gone were much of the techy nuances and songwriting that actually used three guitar players, opting instead for immediate savagery and accessibility. On the other hand, this newfound sense of immediacy allowed for an excellent sense of hooks, with their old flair boiled down to moments littering songs. Bouncy leads in “Section 8” and harmonized breakdowns in “Dead Silence” showed the band hadn’t forgotten to imbibe songs with flourish and flavor, a skill that would quickly fade out as they continued their ascent to bigger and basic things. Easily the best of the middle era of albums.

#3. This is Exile – The Certified Hood Classic, this album dropped and almost instantly defined what deathcore was supposed to be. A massive sounding album in both writing and by production values of the time, This Is Exile demonstrated fantastic growth in musical writing chops and performances. Solos rip and shred, breakdowns are creatively inserted and (mostly) avoid walk-in-place stereotypes, and each song comes with personality and pizzazz. Touring it for an anniversary with The Black Dahlia Murder showed that the compositions still hit just as hard today, reminding that deathcore as a genre can be intelligent and engaging.

#2. Kin – A fantastic sequel, Kin grasps the mood swung for by The Valley and usurps it in every way. “To the Wolves” assault with peak modern era violence, while the flow into softer moments and use of cleans are much more organically blended. Higher use of melodic leads and atmospheric layering’s allowed the beauty to shine with the brutality, and the closing title tracks fantastic power ballad transition into synth-laden classic rock styled soloing represents everything The Valley wanted to be. Much more enjoyable as a full body of music rather than a collection of tracks, Kin sees Whitechapel grasping their musical vision in the fullest sense, with an excellent display of vulnerability and pathos littered among trademark forehead-shattering groove.

#1. A New Era of Corruption – Criminally overlooked by fans, criminally neglected in setlist selections, A New Era of Corruption is one of the greatest records in the genre. Taking every skillset from This Is Exile and cranking it up to eleven, this album finds Whitechapel operating at a peak they have yet to return to since. All three guitarists are on full display in the compositions; the breakdowns hit harder, the leads are techier, and the production actually sounds like a full band. Flirting with borderline Nile atmospherics in “Breeding Violence” and full on cinematic flirtations in “Unnerving”, 2010 saw Whitechapel at the peak of their powers, experimenting and tinkering and constantly challenging themselves to write better, bigger, and meaner. A genuine benchmark for the sound of deathcore, listeners can only hope for an eventual return to this ruthless display of excellent musicianship marred with ear-gauge shattering blunt force trauma. If you haven’t listened to this album in a while, you owe it to yourself to give it a spin.

Iceberg

I’m a core kid at heart; it was one of my gateway drugs into metal. While Whitechapel lived on the periphery of my metal consumption for my formative years, the combination of 2019’s The Valley and the pandemic gave me the drive and time to dig into their entire catalogue. Since then I’ve always had a soft spot for the Knoxville sextet, and deathcore in general. There’s something about knuckle-dragging breakdowns, whiplash tempo shifts, and gurgly vocals that lights a fire in my icy core. And as one of AMG‘s official deathcore apologists, I jumped – nay, catapulted myself – at the opportunity to ride Hollow‘s rickety train to breakdown town.

#8. Mark of the Blade (2016) – Mark of the Blade marks the end of Whitechapel’s more-metal-than-deathcore era, and showcases a band running low on creative fuel. What’s put on record is the most radio-ready, sanitized version of Whitechapel, and time hasn’t been too gentle with her caresses. The proximity to Slipknot-esque nu-metal is at its most blatant, the breakdowns are toothless, and the songwriting feels like the band is spinning their saws for the third album in a row. Phil’s cleans make their first appearance in “Bring Me Home” and “Decennium,” and while they’re a harbinger of things to come, they feel sorely out of place here and don’t do much to right the ship.

#7. Our Endless War (2014) – Smack in the middle of the band’s metalcore period, OEW doesn’t feel as phoned in as Mark of the Blade, but loses some of the snarling intensity of the self-titled release. Saws are beginning to spin. Anthemic choruses are beginning to rely on the tired trope of repeating the song’s title. Breakdowns feel more at home at Knotfest than Summer Slaughter. The album has its moments, though; “Worship the Digital Age” is a bit on-the-nose but an earworm, and “Diggs Road” is a strong closer that presents one of the album’s best melodic material in its fist-raising chorus. But against what has been, and what’s to come, Our Endless War fades into the background.

#6. The Somatic Defilement (2007) – Grimy, grindy, blood-soaked, and slammy, Whitechapel’s debut showcases all the hallmarks of turn-of-the-century deathcore with the production of a greenhorn band (especially those drums). But the hunger of a young band is real; the bpm is redlined, the breakdowns are ignorant and prolific, and Phil’s vocals are at their most porcine and guttural. Tracks like “Prostatic Fluid Asphyxiation” and “Vicer Exciser” still hang with the best of them in terms of sheer stankface headbangability. While it lacks in the way of diversity, The Somatic Defilement’s charm has aged like fine hobo wine, and it steadily climbed this list the more I revisited it. In some ways this is Whitechapel at their most genuine.

#5. Whitechapel (2012) – Arguably the most transitional of all Whitechapel albums, the self-titled release sees the band with one foot in ragged deathcore roots and another in the sleek, modern production of metalcore. Tracks like “Hate Creation,” “Section 8,” and “Possibilities of an Impossible Existence” still snap necks and crush spines, but there are changes bubbling beneath. There are more breaks from the onslaught; a piano introduction here, washy acoustic guitar there, tempos dipping below breakneck speed. Overall, Whitechapel ends up being workmanlike, middle-aged deathcore, selling you exactly what it advertises.

#4. Kin (2021) – If it ain’t broke, why fix it? Whitechapel smartly took The Valley’s formula and ran with it, crafting a sequel that seamlessly moves from it’s predecessor (from a lyrical perspective – literally), while doing their best to improve on an already formidable blueprint. While Phil’s clean vocals have never sounded better, they can be too much of a good thing, with parts of the album sagging under the weight of these relaxed vocal passages (“Anticure,” “Orphan”). The bookend tracks are deserving of all-time playlist status, as is mid-album burner “To The Wolves,” but there’s a whiff of filler and a lack of brutality on Kin that keeps it from the lofty highs of The Valley. A fitting closer to a sordid tale but a solid middleweight in the band’s discography.

#3. This Is Exile (2008) – If The Somatic Defilement is the wind-up, This Is Exile is the body blow. Whitechapel burst forth in their second full-length effort – a full-throated refutation of the sophomore slump – as a true blue deathcore outfit in complete possession of their faculties. Solving the production problem of their debut makes This Is Exile a much more satisfactory listenable, and subsequently, this the best example of Whitechapel’s core sound. No envelopes are being pushed here, but the package is stuffed to the brim with quality. The one-two punch of “Father of Exile” and “This Is Exile” chug and blast their way through your brain stem, right up until they wrap their wretched mitts around your throat for the ubiquitous–if not a bit overdone here–breakdown. While “Possession” foreshadows the band’s metalcore meanderings to come, this album is so firmly cemented in early aught’s deathcore that it’s impossible to classify as anything else.

#2. A New Era of Corruption (2010) – If This Is Exile is the body blow, then A New Era of Corruption is the haymaker. ANEoC takes the deathcore template perfected on This Is Exile and pushes its brutality to new limits. The end result is an embarrassment of riches for fans of the heyday of deathcore that wields rather than relies on the breakdown. “End of Flesh” might be one of my all-time favorite Whitechapel tunes, perfectly reining in the feral instincts of earlier records while retaining their ferocity inside a clear song structure. The dissolution of the final breakdown into a distant snare drum shows an attention to detail as of yet unseen in the band’s discography. With very little fat to trim, and a tight production job that stops just short of the dreaded sheen (see the self-titled album), ANEoC is the most musically mature record Whitechapel ever put out. That is, until…

#1. The Valley (2019) – I’m not sure anyone really saw The Valley coming. Whitechapel must have, because they clearly gave shit a good shake up. Deathcore purists should stop reading here; I decree this album as nothing short of a revelation. From the dusty acoustic guitars ushering the album in and out to the much-improved clean vocals and storytelling, Whitechapel bolstered nearly every aspect of their sound. Smartly returning to his concept album roots, Phil’s deeply personal and tragic story of family gone wrong breathes new life into Whitechapel’s modus operandi and cleverly shows just how far the band has come from their razorwire days. I reserve special praise for session drummer extraordinaire Navene Koperweis, who takes an already impressive history of Whitechapel drumming and enhances it with unique, progressive instincts. The album rides the sweet spot between tension and release, with just enough old school piss ‘n vinegar marching alongside the more contemplative, wizened moments (something Kin failed to achieve). The Valley is a stunning opus from a band newly emerged from their chrysalis, a dark and wounded creature that’s transcended the deathcore label and become something wholly different.

AMG’s Official Ranking:

Possible points: 24

#8. Our Endless War (2014) 5 points

#7. The Somatic Defilement (2007) 6 points

#6. Mark of the Blade (2016) 7 points

#5. Whitechapel (2012) 13 points

#4. Kin (2021) 17 points

#3. This is Exile (2008) 18 points

#2. The Valley (2019) 20 points

#1. A New Era of Corruption (2010) 22 points

Wanna feel like a scene kid again? Check out our expert picks for your own personal sellout:

Knocked Loose – You Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To [Things You Might Have Missed 2024]

By Dear Hollow

Is the hype surrounding Knocked Loose legit? Making (perhaps unwanted) waves with that “arf arf arf” breakdown in “Counting Worms” and waking babies, and “being woke,”1 with an appearance on Jimmy Kimmel Live! with collaborator Poppy, the Kentucky group is getting its fair share of backlash and praise in equal measure. It’s easy to approach You Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To in this light, but the novelty is merely a facet of the album. In many ways, the act’s third full-length is a continuation of 2016’s bruising Laugh Tracks or 2019’s sludge-inflected A Different Shade of Blue, but an altogether more mature and heftier affair. Yes, Poppy’s witchy shrieks and haunting croons appear in a breakdown buildup in “Suffocate” and Chris Motionless from Motionless in White rears his Gothy nu-metal head in “Slaughterhouse 2,” but beneath the radio-friendly gloss is an album dedicated to tragedy and grit.

As always, Knocked Loose balances its appropriately suffocating beatdown hardcore instrumentals with a three-prong vocal attack, helmed by the feral shrieks of Bryan Garris.2 Featuring frantic Converge-esque choruses (“Thirst,” “Piece by Piece”), mammoth breakdowns (“Don’t Reach for Me,” “Blinding Faith,” “The Calm That Keeps You Awake”), and their novelty pieces of guest vocalists add a refreshing change of pace to what could have been a monotonous meltdown. Alongside Garris’ unmistakable vocals, guitarists Isaac Hale and Nicko Calderon lend guttural roars and hardcore fry vocals respectively, injecting a jolt of white-hot energy to songs like “Thirst” and “Don’t Reach for Me.” While Knocked Loose theoretically approaches You Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To with a traditional beatdown template a la Gideon and Bulldoze, its brutality and intensity are felt through every movement.

You Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To features a skull-crushing breed of hardcore, but nuance is added when Knocked Loose embraces the haunting – a hum cutting through the relentless storm. Utilizing eerie leads and instrumental stillness, evocative lyrics of homesickness, desolation, and meaninglessness are enacted with musical allegory. Tracks that utilize this more contemplative aura (“Moss Covers All,” its sequel “Take Me Home,” “Sit & Mourn”) reflect the solemnity of their titles and the eeriness of the album art in a pummeling yet haunting approach reminiscent of last year’s The Acacia Strain, reflecting a deeper and more tragic intention beyond the mindless hardcore beatdowns. Buried beneath the blastbeats and frantic vocals lies an existential weight tied to its lyrics, the recurring theme of unearthing roots and dismantling family patterns is accomplished mightily through these tracks, further bolstered by tasteful samples.3 You Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To is more than just mindless intensity.

Yes, Knocked Loose is here to kick your teeth in, but it’s not as simple as a senseless hardcore beatdown punishment. You Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To is a multilayered album, easy to dismiss due to its Octane Radio-friendly novelty in “Suffocate” and “Slaughterhouse 2” or its mind-numbing chugs and breakdowns strewn with reckless abandon, but it incorporates just enough haunting experimentation and heartfelt lyricism to give purpose to the punishment. Undoubtedly a divisive release this year, but Knocked Loose balances blind aggression and thoughtful flourishes like a steel-toed boot to the throat in a dense forest at night. So watch your back.

Tracks to Check Out: ”Suffocate,” “Take Me Home,” “Blinding Faith,” and “Sit & Mourn.”

#2024 #AmericanMetal #Bulldoze #Converge #Gideon #HardcorePunk #JudyPerkins #KnockedLoose #Metalcore #MotionlessInWhite #Poppy #PureNoiseRecords #RexAllen #TheAcaciaStrain #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2024 #TYMHM #YouWonTGoBeforeYouReSupposedTo

Monolith – Lord of the Insect Order Review

By Dear Hollow

Monolith is the herald of Earth’s new overlords: the insect swarm. Insects outnumber humans an estimated 1.8 billion to 1, so it was only a matter of time Once united by a hive mind, the planet doesn’t stand a chance. The twist though is that the master race, the Lord of the Insect Order, so to speak, is giant space caterpillars. While Monolith’s first 2024 release Hornets Nest focused on the general depravity of the human condition, Lord of the Insect Order brings the B-movies and pulp. It’s War of the Worlds but with bugs, and you should be afraid, very afraid. In a tidy thirty-two minutes, Monolith takes us on a journey into humanity’s insignificance at the hands of insectoid overlords.

Their 2020 sophomore effort No Saints No Solace was received poorly by the illustrious Saunders but things have changed: Monolith’s got range.1 2024’s Hornets Nest was a foray into untouched territory, as the typically deathcore quartet dove headlong into crusty blackened hardcore that felt like Black Breath, This Gift is a Curse, and Nails got together for a brunch of tar and rusty wrenches—in perhaps one of the most surprisingly solid forays into unfamiliar territory. Lord of the Insect Order is back to its deathcore roots, but experimentation is still a heavy emphasis for this English quartet (from Devon and Cornwall). The first half creates more doom-oriented menace, a bit of The Acacia Strain sans hardcore scrappiness, while the second dives back into the Boris the Blade and Aversions Crown breakdowns-and-blastbeats bread-and-butter you expect from deathcore. Ultimately, thanks to tasteful length, emphasis on relentless beatdown, and never taking itself too seriously, Monolith towers with its cosmic caterpillars.

Truthfully, I’m not sure why more deathcore doesn’t dive into death/doom, because as The Acacia Strain’s Failure Will Follow taught us, the knuckle-dragging crunch fits like a glove into slow-motion pummeling. As such, the first act’s offerings like “Swarm’s Offering” and “Progeny Feast” slow things down to a menacing crawl that doesn’t necessarily forsake its breakdowns and down-tuned noodling, but weaponizes them alongside absolutely vicious vocals and haunting synths. Atmosphere shines most prominently in this half, with the yearning instrumental title track and lamenting “Planetary Hardening” offering synth-infected dirges that reflect upon the ruined landscape and eradicated race. The second act, ripped into creation with “Eclosion; Rise of the Imago Predator,” attacks with relentless brutality that recalls tempo-abusing interpretations like Aversions Crown or Osiah. The common thread of the yearning atmosphere infects “Parasitic Accession” and “Lonomia Pestilence” like a last tragic gasp before being wholly consumed – by a cosmic caterpillar. Neatly, these two sounds do not contradict, as Monolith’s viciousness is only highlighted by its ambiance. It concludes with the most bombastic track, “Unfurling of the Cosmic Caterpillar,” which borrows slightly from the doom palette for a song as epic as it is punishing—a suitable ending to an insane album.

While the differences between the two acts lend themselves to inconsistency, Monolith’s seamlessness between them and the natural resulting crescendo works like the plotline of an engaging story benefited by the influence of B-movie schlock. That being said, for thirty-two minutes, there are a few filler moments. Album intro “IRAS; Larval Comet” and “Holometabolism” do a solid job adhering to the album’s killer cosmic caterpillar theme and establishing the atmosphere in ways that reflect Aegaeon or early Kardashev. However, with such a short runtime Monolith would do well to trim the excess; the first half in particular could do with some more fleshing and breadth, as the three 3-5 minute doom tracks leave me wanting more. The second half, in particular, will not sway deathcore naysayers, as its emphasis on excess and constant breakdowns is never subtle. While Monolith’s theme is lighthearted, recalling the antics of A Breath Before Surfacing, their skill and brutality are certainly forces to be reckoned with.

Monolith’s second 2024 full-length benefits from its frivolous B-movie influence and willingness to experiment. While I’d like to see more of the deathcore-gone-doom vibe, the second half is tight and uncompromising, the first is epic and formidable, and the atmosphere is a breath of fresh air amid the swarming instruments. Monolith’s range cannot be overstated, because Hornets Nest feels like a completely different beast but was equally formidable. Lord of the Insect Order flies by, will get your toe tapping and resurrect your fears of giant cosmic caterpillars overthrowing life as we know it.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Self-Released
Website: facebook.com/monolithuk | bandmonolith.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: August 23rd, 2024

#2024 #30 #ABreathBeforeSurfacing #Aegaeon #AtmosphericDeathMetal #Aug24 #AversionsCrown #BlackBreath #BorisTheBlade #DeathMetal #DeathDoomMetal #Deathcore #DoomMetal #EnglishMetal #Kardashev #LordOfTheInsectOrder #Monolith #Nails #Osiah #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #TheAcaciaStrain #ThisGiftIsACurse