VULGARITY – BECKONED BEYOND

(Andy Synn wants you to stop what you’re doing and play this one as loud, and as often, as you can)

We’ve been accused of being “pretentious” here at NCS a few times… which is actually pretty funny if you really know any of us.

True, we do have a lot of love for weird, proggy music, and we certainly have a lot of fun playing around with language and using some of those “big” words certain people find so frightening, but you know what we also love?

Big riffs, big hooks, and bands that just put out banger after banger after banger.

Which is why I’ve been jamming the new album from Missouri Metalcore menaces Vulgarity over and over again recently.

Now when I say “Metalcore” I’m not talking about the “Pop Rock with flaccid, tacked-on breakdowns” style that’s still so prevalent, I’m talking about the original “Death Metal meets Hardcore” style that was built on a bedrock of scorching riffs and stomping breakdowns.

Think the likes of Undying and Himsa (comparisons to the latter, circa Courting Tragedy…, being particularly notable during the reckless, riff-driven assault of “Nails to be Driven” and massive mid-album highlight “Futile Divinations”) on the one hand and Arkangel and early Heaven Shall Burn on the other, and you’ll be in the right sort of ballpark to properly appreciate the band’s fusion of American aggression and Euro-core intensity.

And, make no mistake about it, barring a few fleeting moments of relative calm – such as the moody finale of the jagged, bone-jarring “You Are, Not Me” – Beckoned Beyond rarely lets the intensity levels drop, with the blast-propelled, trem-heavy assault of in-your-face opener “Given to the Light” kicking things off with a breathtaking burst of apoplectically intense fury that sets the tone, and the bar, for the rest of the record right away.

Yet for all their (almost) unrelenting ferocity – the short-but-savage “God In Your Eyes” is an impressively abrasive reminder of the group’s Metallic Hardcore roots, while the thunderous rhythmic riffage and raw, throat-scarring screams of “Malice Calculation” easily hit just as hard as any of their more famous peers – there’s a method to the madness and a purpose to their punches, especially when it comes to the more melodic moments of songs such as “Stabbed By the Miracle of These Waters” and unexpectedly poignant (albeit still punishing) closer “Finally Free”, and the sheer plethora of shamelessly hooky riffs scattered throughout the album.

Of course, it’s not reinventing the wheel – and I’m sure if I really wanted to come across as pretentious I could waste my time trying to criticise it for all the things it isn’t (for one thing there are no sex scenes and the food looks horrible) – but the simple, primal truth is that it’s such a thrilling ride, offering just under half an hour of raw emotion and cathartic conviction, that it keeps on beckoning me back for just one more listen, which inevitably results in me spinning the whole album again in its entirety and appreciating what it is all the more.