Something that has become increasingly apparent to me as I have aged is the importance of ‘form’ within the realms of extreme metal. By that I mean, the accolades that can be showered upon something almost of a direct result of the form in which the art takes as opposed to the actual content of what is being delivered. In essence, bands and records can be deemed a success by virtue of the ideas they choose to present and the influences they adopt rather than the ultimate end-product of their creativity. Genres, name-checking, ‘worship, ‘homage’, all of these by-words and more are a reference to form and seem to adopt ever-more importance as metal continues to charge headlong into middle-age.
If this sounds cynical and pretentious, I make no apologies for this as I feel this is a cogent point to make in respect of this latest release from Florida-based duo Aevangelist. Debemur Morti are a label renowned for quality signings and the PR spiel in the press-release certainly doesn’t mince its words, promising us ‘a horrid mass of suffering, a horrendous form of sonic deformity painfully entwined at the core of long-haunted compositions. A sepulchral work, brutally laced with primal savagery, unleashing inhuman choirs resounding like the Devil’s voice itself’. Phew.
Furthermore, If I then told you that sonically, ‘Omen Ex Simulacra’ is a harrowing fusion of the chaos of Revenge, the cavernous, inhuman atmospherics of Esoteric and the quasi-industrialized pummelling of Anaal Nathrakh or Sadistik Execution, you’d doubtless be foaming at the mouth. Surely this is unparalleled excellence?
The problem is, it really, really is not. In terms of sound and style, it is a triumph for sure – punishing, brutal, suffocating, violent – exactly as you’d expect from the descriptions above. However, cut through the success of the form of this record and you are left with something very thin indeed. Put simply, for all its dark cosmic horror bluster, there really is very little of genuine substance at the heart of ‘Omen Ex Simulacra’.
Mechanized, pounding programmed drums tattoo unrelenting aggression but there’s no dynamics, no real creativity to the deployment. They just go on and on, impact waning as they blast and stutter away. Riffs meanwhile are little more than a down-tuned grinding churn on the lower four or five frets. I’ve listened to this record a lot in an attempt to get a handle on the guitar parts and quite honestly, they are completely interchangeable between songs. No distinction, no invention, little by way of variation.
The vocals suffer from a similar problem – growls, roars and shrieks litter every track but again, there’s a ‘kitchen-sink’ effect going on with them. They never stop, a relentless babbling cacophony that seems almost disconnected to any semblance of rhythm going on beneath.
Meanwhile, the eerie synths that coruscate across the opening track ‘Veils’ (thus signifying the ‘inhuman choirs’ so trumpeted earlier) are very effective, certainly – but they appear again on following track ‘Mirror of Eden’ and again next song ‘Hell-Synthesis’ and… well, for the rest of the album really. The same voice, the same idea, the same thing. Again, no variety, no expansion, just one good idea mined to death over the course of an hour with any sense of impact and invention lessening with each passing minute.
You see, in my opinion, it isn’t enough to just cook up a good idea and repeat it ad nauseum – you need to be able to do something with that idea, use it as a conduit in which to deliver material with meaning rather than songs being viewed as mere gaps between the noisescape. Quite honestly, at times it is difficult to even establish that one track has finished and another has started so unremittingly samey is this material.
Occasionally, multi-instrumentalist Matron Thorn will switch play slightly with some bursts of discordance on ‘The Devoured Aeons of Stygian Eternity’ or the occasional sinewy lead-line and jagged dissonant syncopation (‘Relinquished Destiny’). Unfortunately, these moments are only moderately successful – they’re OK, sure, but really don’t have the impact they might have in the more skilled hands of say Deathspell Omega, Leviathan or Ruins of Beverast. In addition, they also serve to highlight how one-dimensional the sonic template is that Aevangelist utilise on this record.
I’ve been harsh here but I’ve found Men Ex Simulacra a deeply frustrating listen – annoying even. There’s considerable talent here and in terms of creating a SOUND, this duo have certainly hit the bullseye. Sadly, notions of substance and content are distinctly underdeveloped on this album and it renders the lengthy experience of listening to the whole thing rather numbing. A test of endurance and not really in a good way.
( 5/10 Frank)
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