Highgate - Highgate

Jamie Porter - Guitar/Vocals
Greg Brown - Guitar/Vocals
Steve Porter - Drums

First, a disclaimer: both this album and the song of which it's composed apparently lack titles. So, for the sake of my own convenience (high priority stuff here, people), I shall take the liberty of deeming this release self-titled for this review.

Alright. Similar to how the emo/goth subcultures have transformed the act of excessively bleeding from something that only lepers do in their free time into a fashion statement, metal bands have always been fixated on apocalyptic scenarios. And why not? The apocalypse entails nuclear devastation, dead vegans, rioting, and if movies have taught me anything, the possibility of zombies; basically everything that matters in life. But how often do the theatrical idiosyncrasies of metal actually evoke (rather than merely fetishize) that desolate survivalist dread that seems so strangely glamorous to citizens of a card tower of a first world nation like the US? Not too often, which is why it would be best if apocalyptic themes were relegated to bands who actually can summon that sense of eschatological paranoia, such as Highgate.

The first riff, appropriately enough, sounds more like a bomb detonating than the result of an instrument. When those glass-gargling vocals kick in, one begins to realize that Highgate seem to harbor genuine spite for the listener, vomiting forth downtuned doom metal that will no doubt appeal to fans of Khanate and Burning Witch. Recurring flashes of bluesy psych leadwork and some brief moments of seriously grooving mid-paced lurching prove to be the only sense of compositional warmth present in this dystopian sludge, as it's imbued with an ineffable coldness I've seldom heard so soundly expressed outside the real of black metal like Abruptum and Burzum. Indeed, if Varg Vikernes and EyeHateGod somehow met in a fallout shelter and listened to nothing but Pink Floyd on an old radio, the resulting jam sessions might sound something like Highgate.

Despite the quirky ornamentation of industrial ambience, gong splashes (fuck yeah, gongs), wah pedal abuse, chilling samples from fallout instructional videos, and other strangeness permeating Highgate's music, the core songwriting is extremely skeletal; so much so that if you were to attempt to isolate a particular riff segment, it would be like analyzing a single brush stroke of a painting. For example, about 35 minutes into the piece, the preceding Khanate/Eyehategod-esque masochism dissolves into sort of a loose Burzumic figure, which would be unspectacular anywhere else, but in the context of the song makes perfect sense as a dramatic stylistic shift that releases a great deal of swelling structural tension. As one might expect following a hint of illumination, the next movement 40 minutes into the track is utterly mournful, with strafing ride cymbals and plaintive strumming accenting a massive yet emotionally stirring dirge of a riff. The narrative development of this otherwise torturous composition is very logical, which is relieving in light of how many doom songs pushed to this length just drone and rumble tactlessly, forcing the stoner audience to project their own contrived sense of purpose into the haplessly incongruous cacophonies.

As for gripes, I've a bone to pick with bands who write hour-long songs for the sake of writing hour-long songs. Although Highgate is a coherent whole, this song exists as a few lengthy, individual movements webbed together with strains Merzbowian noise; in that respect, it would be easier for everyone if this bloated 50+ minute behemoth was divided into some smaller tracks around the ambient bits. Really now, where are we supposed to listen to songs this long? In the corner of some dark shed or something? I like some of the lengthier compositions of Abruptum, Boris and the like, but enjoying Akira Kurosawa doesn't mean you want dodgy horror films about radioactive ninja bikers to be three hours long. On the plus side, Highgate is great to annoy anyone who hates metal (although they'd have to be daft not to appreciate it on the basis of its inherent artistic merits), especially if they're unaware of the playing time. I may have this played at my funeral if I ever die.

Highgate leave me equally impressed and exhausted -- impressed enough to seek out their Black Frost Fallout demo, and exhausted enough to give up after many fruitless searches. There's no reason not to give this a listen, granted you're not allergic to hour-long genre cocktails that preach the extinction of mankind.

April 15th, 2008