Reverance is a funny old thing. Too much, and you’re accused of having no original ideas and trying to achieve success by standing on the soldiers of giants. Too little, and you risk potentially missing the mark on what made bands of that ilk successful in the first place. Taking that into account when discussing the current revivalist trend in metalcore, it all boils down to execution. Bring your own ideas, some influences from outside the genre to the table but make sure that what you’re making can crowdkill on its own two feet.
As Dying Wish demonstrated on their 2021 debut, Fragments Of A Bitter Memory, they’re a band who have a great deal of love and respect for a certain brand of metallic hardcore, but enough nous and creativity to create a sound that was uniquely theirs. Every syllable was flecked with jet black venom, every drum beat sent a rumble through your bones and the guitars possess an ability to make your face look like you were walking through an anime convention during a deodorant shortage.
2022 and 2023 were massive for the band, they toured relentlessly and they began to showcase elements of their sound growing. Emma Boster developed from being a great screamer to a great vocalist, nurturing her cleans and melodies, incorporating them into existing tracks to great effect and providing a hint as to where their sonic profile would develop on what would become this record, Symptoms Of Survival. Combine this with lead guitarist Sam Reynolds adding his barbarian like vocals and stage presence to things and former Vatican bassist Jon Mackey’s antagonist behaviour to things and the band appear to only have an upward trajectory.
As the opening title track judders its way into life, the first thing you notice is the production, which comes courtesy of Randy Lebeouf. It manages to sound even bigger than before while still retaining the classic clunk and chug that makes this kind of metalcore so endearing. It’s a no-bullshit approach to opening the record that sets the tone, and when the pit-inducing drum opening of ‘Watch My Promise Die’ kicks in you’ll find your mosh sense twitching into overdrive, especially when Sam grunts and barks like a particularly pissed off drill sergeant. This is also the first time that Emma’s clean vocals and melodies really come to the fore. As hauntingly beautiful as they are memorable, she has a knack for addictive hooks. They aren’t overused though, and this album isn’t the band devolving into typical scream-verse/clean-chorus fare. Their sparsity makes them even more special when they do appear, such as ‘Torn From Your Silhouette’, whose hook is dangerously addictive.
The new record from the Bristolian psych-proggers, Trying To Be Normal – despite it’s namesake – does not see this band abandon the qualities that have made so alluring in the first place; and thank goodness for it. For those yet to be quantitated with this act, My Octopus Mind are a collectively neuro-diverse unit entirely devoted to forgoing convention in favour of authentically articulating themselves via progressive balkan rhythms, psych-tinged wonkiness and a sense of swagger that’s somehow both suave and awkward. One could easily compare them to the likes of The Guru Guru or Snõõper in terms of unique idiosyncrasy, but to even compare the band to like-minded contemporaries feels limiting. They’re distinctively their own entity, and nothing highlights this more than this weird and most wonderful record.
‘Made Outta Gold’, the record’s opener, both highlights the record’s surrealist nature and reflects upon the conventions constructing this body of work with it’s title. Comprised of pulverising double bass, twinkling fretwork, post-punk-akin poetic rambling and a permeating sense of eccentricity that’s intriguing, endearing and somewhat eerie, the track doesn’t introduce the record as much as it sucks in one into the outlandish world My Octopus World inhabit. It’s quintessentially impossible to really reflect upon the mundane nature of reality when listening to this or the consecutive punchy absurdity of ‘High Roller’ and the minimalist swaggering unease of ‘Maiden Of Honour’. In fact, with it’s brilliant escapist qualities, listening to be normal is the musical equivalent of getting haplessly pulled into the fantastical word of Alice Of Wonderland; expect one is being greeted not by the Cheshire cat, but someone in harem pants positively slaying a double bass.
Green Lung’s rise to prominence has been damn near unstoppable. Initially formed in London in 2017, the band’s occult rock influenced proto-metal swiftly found a hungry audience. Even the global pandemic could not slow down their progress, planting their flag in 2021 with the release of their second album, the critically acclaimed Black Harvest. Playing to packed out tents and venues at festivals such as Bloodstock, Download, Desertfest and Roadburn, recruiting followers en masse in the UK and across Europe and opening for the likes of stoner-rock icons Clutch on an international tour. 2023 brings with it the bands most ambitious work so far, This Heathen Land, an attempt to “create the definitive soundtrack to the folk horror film in our heads” as vocalist Tom Templar puts it.
The album’s introduction immediately sets an appropriate tone, a short introduction preluding opening track ‘The Forest Church’ revels itself in manifesting atmosphere. Harking back to 1970’s documentaries on ancient Britain, mono synths that wouldn’t sound out of place on a Goblin soundtrack and an spoken word passage in the style of a news report introducing the albums themes in a grand fashion. When Matt Wiseman first strikes the drums it send shivers down your spine, the bombastic main riff of ‘The Forest Church’ wraps its arms around your neck and forces you to headband along and air guitar to the infectious guitar melodies. The verse leaves a light backing of organ, bass and drums for the focus to sit on Tom Templar’s haunting vocal performance. The instrumental starts slowly layering, building and swelling towards the anthemic fist pumping chorus that’s sure to enrapture live audiences into massive sing-a-longs.
The choice of ‘Mountain Throne’ as the debut single was a smart one. Arguably the most straightforward track on the album, its heavy metal through and through. Thunderous stoner riffs with melodic hooks thrown in that sound like the combined child of Deep Purple and The Sword, whilst Queen keeps an eye on them for the weekend. “Maxine (Witch Queen)” has a powerfully catchy chorus that will not let itself out of your head, repeating for days on end. The band come eerily close to sounding like Ghost here, which isn’t much of a surprise considering they draw from similar inspirational wells musically. Final single before release ‘One For Sorrow’ is absolutely monolithic. Defiantly leaning into the stoner doom label that is often used to paint the band, this is easily the heaviest song they have written so far. Juxtaposed with the tempered verse, keeping the energy simmering low with organs/synth and a more quaint vocal delivery adds to the grandiose explosive power the chorus holds.
Having managed to maintain their meteoric ascent from the viral fame of ‘Holy Roller’ and debut LP Eternal Blue, to sold out shows across North America and Europe, a new sonic offering is now here – The Fear of Fear, out 3rd November via Rise Records/ Pale Chord.
The Canadian alt metal outfit have managed to dominate the scene over the last few years, with a fascinating blend of different sounds that utilises the acrobatic vocals of Courtney LaPlante and creative riffs of guitarist and husband Mike Stringer. 2021’s Eternal Blue did achieved mountains more than any band could hope for on a debut album, clocking up over 244 million streams – a testament to the sheer talent and raw appeal that the band exude.
After a few singles in 2022 brought a more experimental sound in front of listeners, Spiritbox look to progress by refining their core sound, as seen on album Eternal Blue. Opener ‘Cellar Door’ is immensely heavy and could comfortably wear the crown for spiritual successor for ‘Holy Roller’. Beginning with a spidery rhythm on the guitars and drums, the band drops the floor from under the listener, before Courtney LaPlante enters with delay-soaked screams that could incite a wrestling match with a bear.
Cementing themselves as one of the UK’s most exciting new heavy bands with their 2021 debut album The Live Long After and their star studded follow up EP Waterloo Teeth – which featured contributions from members of Idles, Heriot and Black Peaks to name a few – Sugar Horse have carefully crafted their sound with doom inspired riffs, vocals that melt effortlessly from an atmospheric whisper to banshee-like screams and a tongue-in-cheek sense of humour. On their latest EP Truth Or Consequences, New Mexico, Sugar Horse take their deliberately paced, trudging sound to an extreme new level, splitting one extended piece of music into six more easily digested tidbits.
Channelling their inner Bell Witch, Sugar Horse explore every crevice of Truth Or Consequences, New Mexico for potential musical ideas across the EP’s almost twenty minute runtime. Ramping up from the EP’s ominous opener ‘Truth’, with frontman Ashley Tubb’s chanting vocals taking centre stage, reverberating through the track as droning guitars and synths build up around it before fading into the far more aggressive, Cult Of Luna inspired ‘Or’. Sugar Horse succeed in making each part of Truth Or Consequences, New Mexico sound unique and individual while keeping the entire EP one unified, cohesive piece of music flowing naturally through different styles and influences.
Since 2014’s wildly progressive sophomore effort, Pink Lemonade, an awful lot has changed for Closure In Moscow. From marriages and children, to the strict pandemic lockdowns of the band’s home base in Melbourne, the recording of their third album has been marked by a variety of life changing events. This soaks into the music across the span of Soft Hell, an album which takes a close look at the decisions fear and trauma drive us to, and how we grow to live with the continuous discomfort this brings us. It’s a real whiplash from the eccentric vivacity of Pink Lemonade, but one that leads to a collection of tracks that, at times, verges on something brilliant.
Closure In Moscow have matured their funk-infused post-hardcore sound that made their earlier material so distinctive, turning the soundscape across much of this album into a rich and groove-filled affair. Bass lines snap with swaggering energy, whilst vocalist Christopher de Cinque sounds better than ever, swinging between soft crooning and intensely impressive belted melodies. ‘Better Way’ features some particularly killer riffs and one of the band’s finest vocal performances, whilst ‘Don Juan Triumphant’ packs a particularly rocking breakdown which acts as one of the grandest moments of the album. ‘Keeper of the Lake’ particularly stands out with its lyricism, really encapsulating the album’s underlying theme of growing comfortable in your discomfort (‘Water in my lungs is gonna free me from breathing/The surface has nothing but a fear I’ll be leaving’).
