From New York City comes Netherlands, a heavy metal project with the label of heavy-progressive sludge, but given the lengthy multi-genre history of its creator Timo Ellis much more is promised. I had no doubts however that given the stated weighty themes of world values and unchecked exploitation, the musical output was never going to be at all lightweight.
It all starts with a scary, fuzzy drone in a Blut aus Nord sort of way. The out of time drumming has a trip-hoppy feel. The machine control gets turned up and down. “Sicarrivallo” is about a place of unmitigated horror with echoing distant screams and its slow murderous pattern amid an electric storm. As I had suspected, Mr Ellis’s electronic background comes into play. “Swimming Dog” is similarly dark and downtrodden but its beat is faster. If the term “an anarchy of sound” doesn’t exist, then it should and I can then apply it to this. Multi-layered thumping drums, referred to as “comprehensive tuning”, and irregular patterns on several levels are here, seemingly with the purpose of stimulating nightmares. It’s clear that a lot has gone into the production here in order to create this dystopian world. “Omisha” is a fuzz number and with its hitherto unheard airy vocal, seems something out of the 1970s. The aim is never melody – perish the thought of such harmony – but rather the creation of a mood. In this case it’s dreamy and defiant, but ultimately menacing.
Electronic rays beam down like flying comets. Deep fuzzy guitar is played. There is a cacophony of noises as dark electro prevails. Vocally it’s a theatrical horror show, all designed no doubt to convey that uncontrolled world that we live in. Spaced out vocals accompany the deep fuzz of the title song. There’s no way you could describe it as pleasant – it’s always too disturbing and off centre for that – but it’s effective, and its persistent dark beat creates a kind of hook. These songs are not lengthy but have an awful lot of content. I found myself puffing out my cheeks while listening to “Blue Whale” – it’s leaden heavy with the now familiar tunelessly plaintive vocals. This is like digesting a heavy meal but in musical form. “Goons” is like a fuzzy march. The vocals are like an angry speech. “There’s no incentive to give up power” repeats the speaker insistently. The music meanwhile is as ever sinister and menacing. Statement made. “Glow Stick” presents the world in break down mode. The sound engineer had a field day here reducing this fast-paced piece of metal and cyber energy to a state of incomprehensible but dynamically fused rubble. A trip hop night-time beat accompanies the dreamy, spaced-out vocalist of “Silencio”. I found myself drifting away. Given what had gone before I expected my senses to then be shaken up by the following and final piece, but apart from an insert of heavy fuzz, “Celia’s Mansion” is initially a reflective number, cranking up into fuzzy doom and retro rock of the avant-garde kind.
I found “Severance” was difficult to like but easy to appreciate. The fact that it is all over the place in style is no doubt deliberate. Dark, obscure, extreme, multi-genre, challenging, overbearing – this is an imaginative piece of theatre.
(7.5/10 Andrew Doherty)
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