Orbit Culture know how to groove and how to rage. They might have picked up a couple of tricks on their tour with melodic death metal progenitors In Flames, but it’s clear they are their own act. In addition to touring with genre greats, the Swedish death metal outfit are wrapping up another tour with Trivium, and in 2019, they toured with Rivers of Nihil. In addition to touring with metal giants, they also won over crowds at major festivals like Download and Bloodstock. How did they do that? Pull up a chair, drop the needle on Descent, and listen.
From the first moment, it is clear this is a band that has history. From 2020’s breakthrough album Nija, to the short but excellent EP Shaman, to the back catalogue of Odyssey, In Media Res, and Redfog, this group has carved a place for themselves in melodic death metal and they are here to stay. Their first few albums helped them develop a sound and a static lineup. Nija introduced their current sound to the world to critical success. Shaman further developed their sound with more symphonics and melody. Now, finally, Descent brings the gospel of Orbit Culture to the masses.
Since their first EP in 2016 instrumental 5-piece False Hope For The Savage have been a staple of South Wales’ flourishing experimental music community, balancing reverb-fuelled, ethereal soundscapes with explosive crescendos that have earned them support slots with artists like The Physics House Band, And So I Watch You From Afar and Nordic Giants. On their self-titled debut album False Hope For The Savage hone in on what makes their sound unique with more intricate ambience leading to bigger riffs in a way that both post-rock veterans and newcomers to the genre will find appealing.
The album’s opener Better Things Left Unsaid invites the listener to immerse themselves into False Hope For The Savage’s world with deep, delay-drenched atmosphere. The band uses its trio of guitarists, Edd Clemas, Alex Davies and John Harman, to craft intricate layers of harmony with a clear lead line, there’s a strong sense of urgency and direction to False Hope For The Savage despite all the complexity with each instrument serving a distinct purpose. Unlike the pretentious, impenetrable caricature of post-rock that some listeners may use to stereotype the genre, False Hope For The Savage manage to remain impressively accessible with a straightforward, direct approach to structure and melody.
The track ‘Little Empires’ represents False Hope For The Savage at their heaviest and most honest in a song clocking in under 4 minutes that’s bound to convert even the most ardent post-rock haters. Building the track’s moody feel around a relatively stripped-down, stomping guitar riff, as well as some appropriately energetic percussion from drummer Ray Thomas, Little Empires is certainly on the heavier end of the post-rock spectrum, far closer to And So I Watch You From Afar’s grandiose guitar acrobatics than MONO’s orchestral ambience. It’s a testament to False Hope For The Savage’s ability as songwriters that they can build an instrumental song with this many labyrinthine moving parts that can sound this sincere and catchy.
There was a time when Atreyu were one of the standouts of their scene. Blending an emerging metalcore sound with gothic tinges, they were exciting, they were vibrant…hell, they were relevant. People awaited their new records with anticipation, and fawned over the eyeliner sporting dual vocal attack of Alexs Varkatzas and Brandon Saller. Somewhere along the way though, the band seemed to lose their spark, and their blend of eighties attitude and emocore fury devolved into a desire to be featured on ESPN highlight reels. Much like their contemporaries Avenged Sevenfold the band decided to take their sound in another direction. While there’s nothing wrong with that, change is only good if done well. Losing screamer Alex didn’t exactly help matters, with his absence showing that he was at least partly responsible for some of the bite the group had in their past and never-amazing-but-always-good lyrical flourishes
The Moment You Find Your Flame is the name of this new EP, and is four brand new tracks from the group. It’s actually their second release of the year, with The Hope Of A Spark releasing in April. Frankly, the two are interchangeably poor. Both are the sound of a band trying to remain relevant, not so much flirting as committing full on PDA with radio-rock and mixing boring electronics into things.
This EP kicks off with ‘Good Enough’, which is probably what the band said after finishing recording. With a riff that Breaking Benjamin would have refused for being too generic, it segues into a midden of frankly shocking vocal lines, uninspired synths and some sort of choral bridge that gives way to a breakdown so hackneyed that the subsequent eye-roll nearly caused me to go blind.
After double checking that the first track hadn’t accidentally played twice, ‘Immortal’ flew past in just over three minutes of awful faux-inspirational lyrics and instrumentals that seem like four different Bad Omens C-sides stuck together with bubblegum. Pure forgettable fodder that’s so hamfisted it would be deemed too cringe-worthy for Youtube anime compilations. It makes Gravity by Bullet For My Valentine sound like Rush.
Precursed is a lively romp through the darker recesses of the world, punctuated by huge arpeggiated synths and uplifting string hits. The album sets out to deliberately ‘resist the pull of nihilism,’ whilst also respecting and allowing space for the creeping, guilt, anger and sadness that permeate the modern world.
From the faded intro on the first track ‘Precursed’ to the final ethereal string hits of ‘Postbreath’ the album strikes a, dare we say, perfect balance between happiness, sadness, anger and guilt. It manages to remain remorselessly positive in the face of the world at large, whilst calling attention to the darkness that we all have to deal with.
‘Dead_Place’ epitomises the fight between dark and light that Precursed sets out to explore. The massive orchestral sound dominates the intro before descending into the robotic spoken word. The lofty bought low to bear, with massive chords that are ever present throughout the album, punctuating the ‘verses’ like musical interludes of some sort of heavy metal electronica Sunday service.
Although they’ve been at it for four albums and almost 15 years now, Horrendous rarely if ever fail to impress with the length and breadth of inspiration they take from other genres. The album is littered with surprise twists and turns, the writing and production of which is best encapsulated by this quote from drummer Jamie Knox, “Surprises always come up during writing — spontaneous ideas pull you into new territory and enable the realization of novel possibilities that previously were inaccessible.”
Perhaps most interestingly there are several tracks on the LP that were born from jams. Knox has noted that the band have a penchant for spontaneous jams at the start of their practice sessions. Sometimes this is just a warm up, other times the band realised they had written a track, that with a few tweaks was ready for the recording. This is most clear in the track ‘Exeg(en)esis’. The opener for the track, a simple 80’s heavy metal inspired palm muted riff soon turns into a psychedelic rollercoaster of pick scratched noodly leads and the searing lead guitar tone that has come to be one of Horrendous’ defining sound.
Last year’s Mara | Mondrem EP was a surprise that introduced Devil Sold His Soul’s Ed Gibbs’ new project to the world, a two-track release (‘Mara’ and ‘Mondrem’, funnily enough) that set the scene through blackened majesty and swells of emotion. Having now signed to underground legends Church Road Records, its follow up Old Belief | New Despair follows in its predecessor’s footsteps, subtly expanding their sonic palette and refining their identity further.
If there’s one word that sums up Old Belief | New Despair, and indeed Copse as a whole, it’s “yearning”. Their music isn’t warm, cuddly blankets of positivity, but it’s still oddly comforting. There’s a sense of loss and sadness that permeates the music, but one that feels deeply familiar, offering solace in its embrace. The major evolution here is one that takes the blackened majesty of Mara | Mondrem and widens it from frosty blastbeats and screams to encompass an even greater range of sadness and loss.
