I went on record as describing Obsidian Kingdom’s 2016 album “A Year with No Summer” as enormous. That word also sums up the two intense and atmospheric live performances I have seen from the Spaniards. So this, their fourth album release, was something to be excited about.
They promised surprises, and they certainly delivered them. In summarising the opening track “The Edge”, I’m now going to describe something that is possibly beyond description. I was aware of Obsidian Kingdom’s experimental tendency. This is heavy, raucous, noise with bits of Entombed, a female vocal and a deranged militaristic ending bordering on anarchy. “The Pump” moves into a more post-industrial sphere. It’s dark and sinister and ferociously heavy, yet with an impactful clean vocal chorus. From this we go to deep pumping electronica and a quiet vocal. The effect is disturbing. “Mr Pan” has the feel of alienation and indeed the lyrics suggest we are going out of this world and maybe out of our mind. There is momentary violence as if we are being stabbed with a knife before further reflection, and then a decidedly prog metal passage which leads into a dark and complex instrumental passage. “Naked Politics” is then more conventional to start, sounding like a 90s rock track and transforming into something psychologically disturbing on both an instrumental and lyrical level.
“Flesh World” starts symphonically and sadly. The female vocalist guides us through the misty gloom and uncertainty towards more menace and uncertainty. This is almost black metal in its moody ambience. It is very dark and sinister. “Meat Star” continues the outpouring of nightmarish extreme metal menace. The echoing vocals have an air of psychedelia. “Meat Star” has a typically complex and oblique structure. What holds it together is the threatening mood, as musically and vocally Obsidian Kingdom attack and disturb us from all angles. After “Spanker”, which is what I can only describe as an obscure atmospheric filler, the album takes a different and weirder direction with “Vogue”. An electronic intrusion and a strange vocal accompaniment signal that Obsidian Kingdom have deliberately lost the plot here for their own and perhaps our entertainment. Joined-up this is not. Neither is the pain-riddled vocalist, by the sound of him. Dark electronics suggest the onset of an electric storm in a cosmic world. “Womb of Wire” is another extreme attack on the senses, mixing industrial with faintly eastern sounds and synthesised vocals before charging off down another psychologically disturbing avenue of musical complexity. This is one of those albums where other than being subject to a constant sensual assault, you don’t really know what’s coming next. Well what came next and indeed last was the sensitive “The Foe”. Steeped in melancholy, the lady’s voice is haunting. Then it is as if we are being transported away into a dark and dangerous cosmos. The tension mounts and disappointingly it drifts away.
Strange music for strange times. No-one suggested that this album was going to be easy-listening. “Meat Machine” is possibly the weirdest album I’ve heard this year. Covering the themes of anxiety, the absurdity of reality and the cruelty of a mechanized world, this is a fitting representation in musical and vocal form. I defy anyone to find their comfort zone in this, but then with all this extreme metal experimentation, overlapping structures and styles, that would seem to be the point. “Meat Machine” needs a significant investment of mind. I think it was worth the effort but even after a few listens I’m still working it out.
(7/10 Andrew Doherty)
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