The work of Meshuggah should be familiar to most readers by now, however, allow me to provide a short history for the uninitiated and plain ignorant alike. Formed in Sweden in 1987, it wasn’t until the release of their brutal yet innovative sophomore album “Destroy Erase Improve” in 1995 that they really began to turn heads. 1998 follow-up “Chaosphere” offered a cold and clinical progression to the logical extremes of their mechanical sound, before subsequent releases dialled back the mechanics for a more groove driven, experimental approach that maintained their cult fanbase. 2008s “obZen” saw the band further expand their popularity and cement their status as true influencers and leaders.
The last two albums have seen a return to the experimental stylings that launched a thousand “djent” clones throughout the early noughties. It’s a credit to Meshuggah that it doesn’t feel like almost six years since they last released an album, but yes, we really have been digesting “The Violent Sleep Of Reason” for that long. The pandemic appears to have provided an opportunity for the band to pause and reflect upon the musical journey they’ve been on since “obZen”, resulting in album that sounds like a refinement of said experimentation of the last decade.
From the opening one-note chug of “Broken Cog” it’s unmistakable who you’re listening to, even if the groove and Jens Kidmans whispered vocals slightly ape the stylings of Gojira. “The Abysmal Eye” sees the band wheel out one of THOSE huge anthemic riffs that will no doubt become as iconic as the main motifs of “Future Breed Machine” or “Bleed”, whilst “Light The Shortening Fuse” has a comparatively accessible groove and also utilises faint melodic harmonies that casual listeners may not spot upon initially hearing.
“Ligature Marks” boasts a mechanical groove similar to the tight polyrhythmic riffage found way back on “Chaosphere”, though this feels a lot warmer in tone and mood. “They Move Below” is one of several instrumentals on the album, a slow burning, nine-minute epic beginning with intertwining clean guitar melodies before exploding into harmonised, overlayed melodies and grooves. In contrast “Black Cathedral” stands out as almost black metal in aesthetic, consisting solely of tremolo picked guitar parts across it’s short, sinister two minutes. Only a handful of tracks here bring the familiar atonal lead guitar soloing of Fredrik Thordendal to the fore (notably on instant banger “Kaleidoscope”), with the majority of songs focusing on deliberate rhythms and groove.
The primal percussion, off-kilter time signature changes and palm-muted, down-tuned polyrhythmic guitars are still present, underpinned as ever by a growling bass tone and topped off with Jens’ recognisable roar. Unfortunately, after “I Am That Thirst”, the album goes on a bit too long for my liking. Whilst the final trio of tracks are by no means filler material, they don’t really offer anything that hasn’t already been displayed on the first ten; admittedly, this says more about my attention span than the high quality of musicianship and song-writing. Despite the lengthy run-time this is the most stripped down and focussed version of Meshuggah that we’ve seen for a fair few years. They remain utterly peerless, and will no doubt continue to influence throughout this decade as they have over the past thirty years.
(7.5/10 Doogz)
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