(Andy Synn compiles three more albums from his “local” scene that he’d like you to check out)
As the resident Brit here at NCS, I’ve made it my mission to highlight as many bands from these green and (un)pleasant lands as I possibly can each year (with last year in particular being a big one in that regard).
And while this process hasn’t always gone smoothly – there have been at least a handful of bands over the years who haven’t taken kindly to my coverage, even though it always skews positive, because they didn’t think I praised them enough – generally speaking I’m proud of the fact that I’ve helped spread the word about our vibrant, versatile “scene”… even if that “scene” hasn’t always been kind to me in return.
Today’s triptych of recent and/or upcoming albums features a promising, if imperfect, debut (1986), an extremely ambitious second album that serves as something of a creative reboot/rebirth (Unmother), and the latest release in a long-running, uncompromising career of unrepentant ugliness (Moloch), all of which come with my personal recommendation.
1986 – CARNIVEIL
Make no mistake about it, Manchester Sludge-core quartet 1986 are obviously a band with a lot of potential… even if that potential isn’t always harnessed as well as it could have been on their debut album, Carniveil.
At its best, during tracks like the bleak, brooding crawl of “Joy” (which really should have been the album opener, in my opinion), the seething, surging (and, at one point, unexpectedly sombre) “Torment”, and the swaggering “One For Sorrow”, the band lean heavily on grim, grimy groove and scorching, almost blackened, aggression, in a manner reminiscent of the likes of Wolvhammer and The Howling Wind (both of whom are long-time favourites of the site).
The main issue with the album (and it’s not a deal-breaker by any means) is that, like a lot of debuts, Carniveil offers (and, perhaps, suffers from) an excess of ideas being thrown at the wall – from the out-of-character, Mathcore-ish guitar work at the end of “Sweet Tooth” to the much more Hardcore-leaning approach of “Static Burn” and the brittle, Blackened Grind stylings of closer “Afterlife Crisis” – resulting in the band displaying a bit of an identity crisis over the course of these eleven tracks.
That being said, there are signs here already of the band finding a more consistent and coherent way to fuse their influences into something greater than the mere sum of their parts, with the likes of “Black Mirror” (another early, and impressively nasty, highlight) and “Equus Gallows” (which, while not perfect, finds the band twisting their songwriting skills into ever more warped, whiplashing-inducing shapes, especially during the track’s absolutely crushing climax) showcasing a version of 1986 that, with a little more work, has all the potential to be a break-out star in the future.
Sure, a little bit of judicious trimming and editing might have helped focus Carniveil on its strengths (most notably its love of lurching grooves and lacerating vocals) and downplay some of its weakness, but still – for all its occasional flaws – this is an album that will undoubtedly have (and deserve) more lovers than haters.
MOLOCH – BEND. BREAK. KNEEL. CRAWL.
Pure cinema filth… that’s the best way to describe the new album from Nottingham-based nihilists Moloch.
Opening with the dismal, disaffected delivery of the lines “I feel sick, I’m not part of life, it’s not going to work for me… this is all my continuing punishment… I feel flat, nothing…” – followed by a bowel-loosening drop of gargantuan, down-tuned guitars and gruelling, grinding bass, all topped off with series of raw, raving screams that threaten to leave a permanent scar on your speakers (and ears) – opener “In Chrysalis” quickly sets the tone for the entire album going forwards… and then proceeds to lower it, darken it, and abuse it even further.
Reminiscent of the likes of Lord Mantis, Phantom Winter, and Leeched, songs like “Bleeding Through the Interrogation” and the oppressive, doom-laden strains of “The Bunker” are all harsh, brutalist angles and heaving, bludgeoning rhythms… never letting up, never allowing you a moment to rest or breathe easy… whose ugly, unforgiving nature makes it clear that Moloch are a band who have been through hell, and brought some of it back with them.
And while a little more variety might not go amiss (this sort of constant beating can end up losing some of its impact over time after all), there’s a certain cruel cunning and malevolent nuance to their nihilism, especially during the longer, more demanding tracks like “Another Family Slaughters Itself in the Countryside” and aneurysm-inducing closer “Mother Medusa” – the former of which even includes a faint undercurrent of what could almost be called melody – which allow the band the space and time they need to really stretch out the tension and wallow in the gristle and grime of every chugging, churning riff and hacking, hanging chord.
Of course the real meat and marrow of the album is found in the sheer nastiness of a track like “Slowly Chewing Umbilical” – which sounds, essentially, exactly as you’d imagine it would from that vividly visceral title – meaning that while Bend. Break. Kneel. Crawl. may offer a lot to get your teeth into, you shouldn’t expect it to go down easy (and that’s definitely by design).
UNMOTHER – STATE DEPENDENT MEMORY
We talk a lot about “atmosphere” when discussing Black Metal, that’s for sure (and I’m not just talking about so-called “Amtopsheric Black Metal”, which is a separate issue in its own right).
But it’s still worth emphasising just how well the new album from Unmother captures the mood and vibe of our “Modern Dystopia” (especially on the aforementioned track, whose blending of creeping dread, caustic fury, and crippling anguish – much of the latter torn straight from the tattered throat of the band’s new vocalist – makes it one of the record’s brightest highlights) in all its haunting horror.
Practically pulsing with an all-too-human sense of isolation, alienation, and existential despair, songs like scalding opener “My Armor” (seven minutes of harrowing intensity and eerie, hypnotic hooks that immediately sets the bar for the rest of the record) and the aforementioned “Modern Dystopia” conjure images of cold, unyielding streets and shuffling, dead-eyed masses, of individuals inured to both their surroundings and their own suffering, ground down and reduced to a faceless, formless mob by the ever-present pressure to follow and conform.
And while not every track hits quite as hard – the presence of a blackened cover of “Attiki Viktoria” (originally by Greek synth-punks ΟΔΟΣ 55) in particular, while certainly an interesting choice, feels like it ultimately undercuts some of the album’s weight and momentum – at its best, which includes the sinuous, sinister, and borderline suffocating, title-track, State Dependent Memory invites comparisons to the likes of Blut Aus Nord, Dødheimsgard, and (early) Oranssi Pazuzu at their post-modern (and post “Black Metal”) best.
True, Unmother still adhere a little more to the orthodox than those particular icon(oclast)s, but if they keep on travelling down this path – exploring and expanding upon their more avant-garde and bleakly artistic ambitions – they could easily, one day, stand upon the same rareified heights.