Tim Grove

Good Tiger – The Most Negative Day Of The Year | Album Review

Good Tiger make their return after a prolonged absence on reflective fourth album The Most Negative Day Of The Year, bearing the scars left by the passage of time.

Originally formed as a super-group featuring past members of The Safety Fire and Tesseract alongside then ex-The Faceless drummer Alex Rudinger, Good Tiger had enjoyed a steady output, releasing three albums between the span of 2016 and 2020 with a sound characterised by a blend of post-hardcore’s immediacy and emotion as well as prog metal’s technicality, groove and flair.

Released in the uncertainty of the summer of 2020, Good Tiger‘s last album Raised in a Doomsday Cult, didn’t get to enjoy the typical life cycle of an album post-release and, alongside the rest of the world at that time, the band were most likely thrown a massive spanner in the works and for all we knew, their extended inactivity could have equated to quiet dissolution.

And yet, at the end of last year came the surprise that Good Tiger were still very much in business and had prevailed, announcing the fourth chapter to their story, with Periphery being heavily intermingled in its DNA. Be it Matt Halpern taking over drumming duties, Adam “Nolly” Getgood mixing the new record or it being distributed by Periphery‘s own label, 3Dot Recordings.

Ominously named, The Most Negative Day Of The Year immediately sets the tone thematically in title alone. Time has not been kind to Good Tiger it seems and while the “why”‘s and the “what”‘s are never really addressed directly, it remains a recurring theme and guideline throughout the entirety of the album.

Opener ‘Square Breath’ instantly blows the dust away and kicks the bolts off with high energy however, promising an energised return as vocalist Elliot Coleman greets listeners with his unmistakable tone and pitch, embellished by tasteful background harmonising. The effectiveness of the production and overall mix is immediately notable ; the guitar and vocal arrangements, although busy, are all discernable and Halpern’s drums cut crisply through their many layers.

Tellingly titled ‘When Death First Appeared’ takes the energy down a notch in favour of what is likely one of the album’s biggest earworms once the chorus hits, hammering the meaning behind Coleman’s lyrics that much more effectively.

‘Decades on My Feet’ brings the momentum back up, creating a nice two-piece sequence of singles tracks before diving into uncharted territory. Guitarist Derya Nagle’s writing and tone here oozes a contemporary Deftones-like (their last two records especially) mood and energy to the track that is absolutely infectious while Halpern demonstrates why he is such a well regarded drummer in the prog metal sphere.

Even some of the vocal production choices also have hints of that characteristic Deftones swagger. Funnily enough, some of Coleman’s parts on this track are slightly reminiscent of Ashe O’Hara-era Tesseract, specifically the higher-pitched pre-chorus sections as well as some of the harmony and melody choices. Definitely a standout track within the album’s runtime, choosing it as a lead single was an absolute no-brainer.

Bassist Morgan Sinclair gets a chance to stand out on ‘Beehive’ with a playful, groovy bass line that works in tandem with a delicate and elusive synth arrangement. The song’s playful nature seems to conceal a darker truth however, which is made slightly more apparent as the track unravels to a close.

The darkness continues to seep into ‘Sweet Decay”s verses where guitarists Derya Nagle and Joaquin Ardiles create an interesting dynamic between feel-good jazzy prog “à la” Plini/Intervals and a more ominous sound while the rhythm section keeps a steady foundation and Elliot Coleman exercises his vocal agility.

‘Thief Of Joy’ offers more standout, memorable vocal hooks and as we enter the album’s last quarter, ‘Blissful Indifference’ acts as a guitar-less, trip-hop/R&B segway into another of the album’s strongest tracks, ‘Pink Clouds’. The guitar work really shines here, especially in the way the vocals bounce off the layered guitar arrangements, smoothly driving the song’s trajectory through ethereal bliss.

But that high slowly drifts into a collision-bound descent with the eerie and slightly jarring ‘Maybe Hope’ with its main synth motif that can be in turns both endearing in a dreamlike Loathe-y quality and unnervingly dissonant.

The real crash however, comes with the somber closing title track where the only lyrics are the line “I’ve had black days, but this has to be my worst” being repeated over suffocating, claustrophobic electronics and the continued presence of the aforementioned eerie synth. While darkness was to be expected from the get-go, the whiplash effect is genuine given how the vast majority of the album beforehand is mostly comprised of glistening guitars, gorgeous vocals and an enticing, easily digestible energetic drive despite the shadows occasionally lurking in the background ; making ending things on such a downer hit all the more effectively.

While The Most Negative Day Of The Year might be Good Tiger’s least “heavy” album (not that they were known for starting walls of death and gnarly harsh vocals prior, mind) it certainly is the heaviest in an emotional sense, despite the reasons as to “why” never being made evidently clear, they aren’t too hard to imagine either given how time ends up affecting us all similarly regardless of who we are.

It also is Good Tiger‘s least performatively technical record, in the sense that, instead of relying on surface level technical prowess, bombast and showmanship, the technicality on this new album resides in the subtleties and the restraint. Describing an artist or an album’s sound as “mature” can often be a bit of a meaningless cop-out but in this case, it is warranted by how The Most Negative Day Of The Year actually plays out. Previous listeners of the band or of Matt Halpern’s work with Periphery know full well these gents could fire off on all cylinders and blow the roof away with convoluted complexity and zealous flashiness if they so desired. But that is not the name of the game here.

The richness of the detailed arrangements throughout the record and how they interact with each other, the little details that add depth to each moment and each performance choosing intent and restraint over un-needed, over-performance is where the real technicality lies and displays a certain level of earned mastery from everyone involved.

Perhaps this will not sit well for some of Good Tiger‘s fans who might crave more virtuosic flashiness, but the odds are, time will have also weathered listeners into appreciating a more delicate, balanced and grounded approach more interested in fine-tuning details rather than the excesses of flamboyant youthful exuberance.

Score:8/10
Good Tiger