Rating: 8.8
Country: USA
Release Date: 2006
Record Label: Relapse Records
Track list:
1. Permanent Ice
2. Decrepitude
3. You Get What You Want
4. The Air Exits, The Sea Accepts Me
5. Scarlet
6. Wake Up And Smell The Corpses
7. Firebrand Sinself/Infinite
8. Where The Unbelievable Is Ordinary
Band Website: Unearthly Trance |
Unearthly Trance - The Trident
Ryan Lipynsky- Guitars, Vocals
Jay Newman- Bass
Darren Verni- Drums
Mind-bogglingly heavy, astoundingly dense. I mean, really, writing a review of an Unearthly Trance record will always be a desperate attempt at groping for adjectives, in the hope that rattling off a litany of descriptors will somehow cohere the merciless HEAVINESS and HEFT of the Unearthly Trance experience. Rightful heirs of the east coast doom throne vacated by fellow Noo Yawk sludgeslingers Winter, this despotic trio has, in a relatively short span, erected a formidable legacy of cruel, ritualistic occult doom, dredged in the same murky bogs that Celtic Frost, Winter, Grief, Goatlord and Necro Schizma once inhabited. Arousing considerable brouhaha with their signing to indie-metal tastemakers and bandwagon-craftsmen Relapse Records, there was surely speculation that the new Unearthly Trance record would somehow be a sanitized, sterilized affair.
Allow me to relieve such undue anxieties- this record surely exhibits a variety of leftfield twists that one might suggest are uncharacteristic of sir Lipynsky and cohorts, but to this fan, these developments merely embody the next logical step in the band's sonic evolution. While I may not necessarily welcome all of these quirks individually, and certain sections on the record still dismay me somewhat (really a subjective, individual perspective from someone who absolutely fucking loathes funeral doom and drone), I cannot legitimately say that this body of work veers dramatically from the blueprint that Unearthly Trance formulated with the 'Nuit' and 'Sonic Burial Hymns' demos. To be succinct, the album really does represent an appropriate cross section of the two full-lengths that preceded it, marrying the dismal dirge of 'Season Of Séance, Season Of Silence' with the snot-nose crustcore of 'In The Red', fusing both halves with a Neurosis-esque sensibility (Relapse syndrome?) that, to this point, had yet to emerge in the UT formula.
All this, of course, is expressed through perhaps the most forceful production job the band has received to date, one that retains all the idiosyncratic qualities that have distinguished the band thus far (overdriven/redlined harsh vocals, monstrous, gain-drenched low end, an acrid, vile aura) and projects them through a clearer, sharper attack that tightens, defines and consolidates the UT sound, cementing the band's identity with resolute certainty. This record, then, develops the dynamism that was so prevalent in 'In The Red' to a new plateau, downplaying the Discharge and Hellhammer elements (that have since surfaced in Ryan's KILLER new band Villains) and allowing the dystopian Winter elements to once more froth to the brim, while infusing an epic sense of melody that heretofore made but brief, fleeting appearances in the band's nebulous, discordant sonic stew. The slow sections on this record can be TORTUROUSLY slow, and the speedy sections gallop with all the vigor of 'In The Red's fieriest, most searing moments. All the songs sound more assured, more fluid, the shifts sounding natural and cohesive as the band coalesce into one unyieldingly focused Thelemic hammer, producing a record that is simultaneously more streamlined than anything the band has done to date, yet somehow more challenging, cerebral and adventurous.
The amount of thought dedicated to the conceptualization and execution of this project is obvious from the get-go- the blue theme of the album cover denotes water as the governing element of the record, the natural yang to the scorch and torch of 'In The Red'. The appropriateness of this maritime focus also delineates the malleable, liquid flow of the record, one which effortlessly shifts gears and styles in the blink of an eye. Oh yeah, and Ryan sings more often on this record. “Permanent Ice” and “Decrepitude” make this glaringly apparent from the outset. I LOVED the tormented clean vocals in 'SOS, SOS', tortured wails struggling to be heard beneath the asphyxiating, noxious smog of sound. The clean vocals are still somewhat ensconced beneath the grinding, bristling guitars and thunderous percussion, but they are notably higher in the mix than they were previously, Lipynsky clearly more comfortable with asserting their presence and prominence in the Unearthly Trance template.
The formula here is largely the same, but the song somehow sounds vastly different- Verni's tom-intensive, heavy-hitting, caveman drums continue to provide the pulsating throb to this impious black mass, the bass and guitars coagulating into resin-coated, pitch black blankets of barbaric, atavistic noise. Ryan, as the vile priest of this iniquitous order, coheres utter desperation, dementia and despair through callous shrieks that struggle for life in this bottomless cesspit of acridity, a cry of absolute anguish, bellowed forth before the onset of death. Yes, all the elements that we once thought defined the band are here and accounted for, but there is also a more meticulous attention to nuance and subtlety- witness the dreary, emotionally draining expedition into frustration that is “Permanent Ice”, a song that speaks of torrential downpour and shifting tundras, the strident, martial rhythms providing a basis upon which riffs shift and slide slothfully like melting ice floes. “Decrepitude” is the sound of maggots and carrion festering in tender flesh, vein-rupturing bass cloaking everything with blasphemous, bloodstained muck, the song surging and receding like waves desperately crashing against seaside crags. “You Get What You Want” is aesthetically the most reminiscent of 'In The Red', rampaging, verminous Hellhammer singe that sprints, spills and tumbles, a propulsive and more importantly, tempestuous tidal assault on the senses that alternates between Tom G Warrior pummel and despondent drawl before launching full-throttle into a flood of 'Through Silver In Blood' -esque intensity, the song ultimately drowning itself in squalls of white noise before the submissive, insistently simple “The Air Exits, The Sea Accepts Me” expresses fatalistic resignation in nihilistic, dissonant tones, noisy flows of guitar gushing all over floor-tom-fuelled outbursts of manic rhythmic energy.
Postmortem, the band submit to the unnervingly eerie, phantasmal “Scarlet” , Lipynsky moaning mournfully amidst a vacuous wash of desolate, sparse guitar. We journey deeper into the watery abyss that Lipynsky sinks into, a funereal and grimly uncompromising void of plodding percussion, sustained, distortion-drenched chords and reverberating white noise, presumably the stifled voices of the mermaids' unsuspecting victims. It is here, within the palace of Triton, that funeral doom first rears its ugly mug, and if not for the awesomely fearsome imagery that the song conjures, I would be quick to contend that the concluding 3 or 4 minutes of this number are wholly expendable.
No matter, for the gang awaken from their deathly slumber to unleash another distinctly 'Satanic Rites' flavored visceral beatdown in “Wake Up And Smell The Corpses” , ornamented with, surprise of surprises, a Darkthrone – circa- 'Transilvanian- Hunger' -by -way -of Burzum's- 'Hviss- Lyset -Tar- Oss' section and brief dalliances into funereal, death-knoll pummel. Possibly the highlight of the record as far as variation and progression goes, the song effortlessly combines components of Lipynsky's outstanding (and now sadly defunct) black-death-noise experiment Thralldom with unmistakably Unearthly Trance ingredients, painting in broad strokes of doom before accenting with ornate washes of Bathory. 'Under The Sign Of The Black Mark'-isms surface once more in the slowed down Quorthon shuffle of “Infinite”, where Bathory is given a leviathan swing and open groove before collapsing into a rumbling, repetitious Nordic groove, culminating in the loathsome, hateful breakdown that materializes 02:30 into the track, a slithering, serpentine riff that wouldn't be out of place on a latter day Darkthrone recording. Really, really great stuff.
A near flawless album, then, tainted slightly by the bitter taste left by the contentious drum and bass experiment that is “Where The Unbelievable Is Ordinary”, which sounds like a really bad Justin Broadrick piss-take on Earth or something. No idea what's going on here, and while I suppose it all fits within the context of the record, being the band's final gasp and exclamation before the morbid denouement of the record, I see no aesthetic purpose of this track whatsoever. Otherwise, being a longstanding fanatic of the band, I can only say that this recording does the Unearthly Trance legacy VERY proud indeed, and that it will be a headphone companion for months, years to come. Very proud of you, guys, thanks for creating substantive music in an age typified by mediocrity and transience. This is music with a deeply metaphysical, meditative, ritualistic quality, and if that sounds like your type of thing, prepare yourself for an out-of-body experience.
April 20th, 2006 |
