(Andy Synn tries to beat the heat with three more home-grown recommendations)
It’s another hot one here in the UK right now, and people are definitely looking for something to take their minds off the oppressive heat.
And in the absence of any particularly icy Black Metal to cool us down, I thought I’d instead focus on a trio of recent releases (“recent” being a relative term) all capable of capturing your attention and distracting you from the oppressive weight of the weather, in three distinctly different ways.
EXTINCTION OF MANKIND – SLAVES TO NO ONE
Our ex-colleague Badwolf – former NCS and Invisible Oranges writer, one of the main trio behind Northwest Terror Fest, and (alongside Islander and DGR) my beloved brother from another mother – is very much a “Crust guy”, and could probably (especially if you buy him a drink or two) tell you all about the history of the genre, how it crosses over with other styles, who the big names are (and were), and all sorts of other things.
Me, however? I’m much less of an expert, and tend to mostly listen to “Crust” when it crosses over with Death Metal/Hardcore/Black Metal… or, in this case, when it comes as part and parcel of the brand new album (their first in almost nine years) from underground underdogs Extinction of Mankind.
Still thoroughly Punk as fuck, but possibly somehow even more pissed-off than ever, Slaves to No One picks up where 2017’s Storm of Resentment left off but boosts the heaviness and metallic mass of the guitars – as much as the likes of Amebix and Anti Sect remain obvious, seminal inspirations, the raging intensity of tracks like “Nothing to Hide” and “Dead Inside” should just as easily appeal to fans of the grindier, more gut-wrenching attack of bands like Misery Index and Rotten Sound – to more Death Metal-adjacent levels.
To be clear, Slaves to No One isn’t a Death Metal album – the primal, punky vocals and ragged, thrashy rhythms that make up the frantic “Inside My Fears” and “The Weight of 1000 Souls”, for example, should make that very clear – but it’s an album that should appeal just as much to lovers of Entombed and Black Breath as it does disciples of Discharge and Napalm Death.
And if not every track leaves a lasting impression (sometimes, it turns out, less isn’t more, despite what some people might tell you), the big hitters – including the Bolt Thrower-esque ground ‘n’ pound of “Fail to Learn”, the chunky, down-picked chuggery of “Fucked Up Society”, and the almost Death-Grind level punishment of “With Broken Hands” – should leave you suitably punch-drunk and hungry for another beating.
HAAST – DREAMS OF HOME
Whereas the previous entry was all about raw, rough-hewn fury, Haast‘s new album (their fourth, but somehow the first one we’re featuring here, to my great shame) is all about poignant, expressive emotion and sweeping sonic scale, blending elements of Doom, Grunge, and Post-Rock/Metal into eight ebbing and flowing compositions of light and shade and everything in between.
Equally capable of appealing to fans of bands like Khemmis and Spirit Adrift (RIP) on the one hand, and Baroness or Boss Keloid on the other, songs like triumphant opener “Black Light” and the brooding, proggy “Lark Song” find the band stretching their creative and compositional muscles, while still retaining their knack for crafting heart-wrenching hooks and moving melodic moments that will stay with you for a long time after the songs have ended.
Arguably, however, it’s the immediacy of tracks like anthemic early highlight “National Razor” (with its catchy, grungy riffs and shimmering melodic fretwork) and the impressively powerful, almost Mastodon-esque, “Cratered Plots” (whose early, infectiously upbeat energy builds to an absolutely colossal crescendo) that really grabs you, with even the doomy, Crypt Sermon-ish strains of “Clychau Celyn” managing to immediately capture your full attention, despite the song’s sub-four-minute run-time.
Very occasionally the band’s ambitions do seem to exceed their grasp a little – the more tempered, “Post-” inflected approach of the album’s central, seven-and-a-half minute epic “Denial in the Lion’s Den” doesn’t entirely justify the song’s slightly excessive length (though the final build to its thunderous finale is definitely worth the wait) – but their decision to push, to stretch, to reach for something more on their latest album (culminating in the captivating climactic strains of cinematic closer “In the Voice of Rhodri Mawr”) speaks volumes about the group’s willingness to keep growing and evolving and getting better and better with each new release.
THE SALT PALE COLLECTIVE – …AND GOD SAID NOTHING
It’s not exactly a secret that I was a big fan of The Salt Pale Collective‘s debut album, A Body That Could Pass Through Stones and Trees (here’s the evidence, if you don’t believe me), so it shouldn’t be a surprise to learn I’ve been looking forward to …And God Said Nothing ever since it was first announced.
My first impressions of the album, however, were more… uncertain than I had hoped, as there’s been quite a significant shift in the band’s sound between albums #1 and #2, which feels like the band are aiming for a heavier, darker sound (epitomised by the massive, almost Meshuggah-style guitars that eventually explode from the speakers following the length, drawn-out intro of “Raised Aloft Upon the Horns of the Celestial Bull”) that exchanges some of the more immersive nature of their last album for a more instantly impactful approach.
It took a little while to get my head around, that’s for sure (in fact I’m still not certain about the aforementioned “Raised Aloft…”), but on their own terms the booming, bombastic power and presence of the likes of “…And God Said Nothing” and “Ahoy! The Black Ships” is certainly nothing to sneeze (or sneer) at, with those humongous guitars, gargantuan growls, and scintillating melodies (including some sublime supporting clean vocals) putting me in mind of a doomier, less progged-out version of Endolith (who are also working on a new album, FYI).
Thankfully, the connective tissue and threads of continuity binding …And God Said Nothing to the group’s earlier work(s) do become more prominent and more apparent as the album progresses, with the seamlessly interwoven layers of metallic/melodic/atmospheric elements and influences that come together to form the likes of central stand-out “Our Pale Madonna” (simultaneously both the heaviest and calmest, most intense and most immersive, track on the album) and phenomenal closer “The Stars Fade and Reel in Confusion”, reminding me of early The Ocean circa-Fluxion/Aeolian/Precambrian (which is high praise indeed).
And while I might have the occasional, slightly nit-picky complaint (the finale of “Litany for a Dying Sun”, for example, basically attempts to copy the same stunning climactic trick as “Our Pale Madonna”, only to much diminished effect), I’m happy to report that The Salt Pale Collective have once again delivered the goods here… even if they weren’t quite the goods I was hoping for.