Grief Ritual – Collapse | Album Review

Blackened Bristolian hardcore mob Grief Ritual are one of the most furiously outspoken bands in the scene today, but will that vitriol translate into fulfilling the promise of their EP on their long awaited debut album?

The last twenty years of living in Britain have been, let’s just say, unpleasant. From illegal wars to the ravages wrought on those at the bottom of the proverbial ladder, it’s no surprise that a great deal of music made by British bands has a flavour of rightful bitterness running through it.  Grief Ritual are one of the more brutal propositions to emerge from these humble isles over the last few years. Blending bludgeoning hardcore with a furious blend of various other extreme metal genres, on a sonic level they’re probably most similar to new Church Road label mates Burner, albeit with a much more direct, punkier approach.

Their debut EP, Spiritual Disease, was a statement of intent, one which balanced a lyrical blast of scorn at the government while coalescing the band’s many extreme influences into one ugly, abrasive blast. There was also a sense of danger, of unease in the record, one that has been brought back and turned up a good few notches here on Collapse,

Seeping like smog and oozing into life with some dark electronics on ‘Spiral’, it bursts into life out of nowhere into a harrowing mix of hardcore stomp and black metal blast beats. The sheer rage and barbed words emanating from Jamie Wagget’s throat are nothing short of intimidating, as they bark and growl dissatisfaction (To put it mildly) at the horrors wrought upon them and others at the grubby hands of the Tory party. The onslaught continues into ‘Recursion’ and ‘Gnaw’ and there’s nary a moment to take a breath. You can just imagine the wide eyes and clenched jaws as these tracks are blasted at you live, demanding people bang their heads as much as they collide into one another. At times, it recalls the extremity of bands like Nails and Cursed, such is the quality.

Drawing on their experiences growing up not only feeling the cold, heartless touch of austerity, and it’s fallout, but life lived as someone struggling with physical and mental ailments in the current climate gives every roar, every shriek a personal touch. As uncompromising and vitriolic a delivery as you’ll hear this decade, it will strike a chord with the vast majority of listeners who’ve lived/are living with similar struggles. That or those that bear the same black-hearted grudge against the “alleged” pig skull fucker and his soulless, murderous ilk who used those less fortunate as fodder for their austerity. It has the potential, this record, to be this generation’s Grey Britain, as hyperbolic that may be to say.

‘Consumed’ shows off yet more of the sinister, insidious electronic work as it opens with Jamie screaming like they’re in a near closing Saw-trap while Aphex Twin plays in the background. All the album hits like a truck, with few moments of respite throughout. You may feel like you need a shower after, such is the level of grit and grime in the riffs and bile-flecked screams. It’s also good to note that the production combined with the performances from all members of the band takes the record to the next level, the guitar work is top-notch whilst the drumming is relentless and possesses Kaiju sized stomps when it needs to.

Peaking with ‘Fault’, which contains a mid-song recording that, quite rightly, states we shouldn’t have to suffer in life to accommodate the wealthy elite before slamming into your face like a police baton immediately after. It encapsulates every facet of the album in one piece of music. A lot of bands can either make you uncomfortable sonically or lyrically, rarely both. Grief Ritual are one of those rare ones, drawing you into their world and making sure that if you weren’t angry before, you sure as hell will be at the end. By the time the closing trifecta of ‘Swine’, ‘Putrefy’ and ‘Marrow’ have wrapped their barbs around your brain, the world may seem darker, more grey, more rough around the edges than it did before. ‘Marrow’ especially is a fitting closer, a song that sounds like that feeling you get walking home alone as fog closes in, you subconsciously feel your keys slip between your fingers, while the street lights don’t work because the council’s budget has been slashed once again

Whether this opens old wounds or forms new ones as you delve into the uncomfortable facts, nothing can take away from this being a white-hot slab of rage rarely seen or heard in music, and in that form it emerges as one of the first truly great albums of the year. As the spoken word declares before the end, “You cannot reform systems designed to harm, it’s time to dismantle all they’ve established and make them feel the weight of this world. Make them collapse”. Let that be a call to arms, a cry of resistance, a personal slogan to bear as you fight in any way you see fit.