Melancholy. Despair. Hopelessness. Only in metal could these be considered good things.
Examination and interrogation of the “darker” side of human existence has always been one of the core motivators for this particular style of music. It allows us to hold a mirror to certain aspects of ourselves and the nature of our lives in a consequence-free environment so that we can attempt to better understand who we really are, regardless of whether or not it’s ultimately in vain (which, for the record, I don’t believe that it is). Some believe that everything is predetermined by some higher power or another, some believe that life is what you choose to make of it, and others believe that we are essentially a grand cosmic mistake, doomed to inevitable entropy and rightful obscurity once the wheels of time have finally ground to a halt.
Unsurprisingly, the New Zealand atmospheric death metal pioneers Ulcerate fall squarely into the latter portion of that spectrum, or at least that’s how they’ve chosen to express themselves through their uncompromisingly bleak and cavernous compositions. The band’s newest offering, Cutting the Throat of God, is an hour-long dissertation on the perceived futility of life and death, cursing their cyclical nature and longing to break free but finding oneself eternally bound to that cycle nonetheless. It’s enough to make even the most hardened nihilist go “Ok, we get it, reel it in a bit, you guys.” It’s a grim outlook for sure, but the means by which they weave that tapestry and present it make it nothing short of captivating.
Plenty of bands incorporate a sense of atmosphere into their music, but very, very few are able to outright weaponize it the way that these guys do. It doesn’t just evoke images, it immerses and engulfs you entirely, making you feel as though you yourself are drifting through the void between the stars. Normally this sort of effect would be achieved through various synth layers and the like, but instead Ulcerate make it happen through exceedingly clever use of empty space and dissonance, with drummer Jamie Saint Merat’s dynamic and nuanced performance doing an excellent job of masking the deceptively simple nature of the guitars and bass.
Of course, that’s not to say that the other two members, Michael Hoggard and Paul Kelland, are slacking off by any means. The guitars are ethereal and delightfully menacing, providing the perfect backdrop for the drums to gracefully dance around, and the subtle but thunderous bass tone rounds out the rest of the soundscape perfectly. Combine all of that with Kelland’s pained, bellowing howls and screams, and the end result is truly something to behold.
There’s a certain reserved quality this time around; not in the sense that this album is any less heavy than any of its predecessors, but it just feels more… pensive. It goes to show that you don’t need to be dialed up to 11 and constantly be in everyone’s face in order to make a distinct and lasting impression. If anything, it has the air of a mighty battle that has already been lost. It makes you feel as though you are wandering aimlessly through a dense miasma, trying to make sense of the senseless and come to terms with some awful tragedy that has left the cosmos permanently altered and scarred. The picture that it paints will certainly vary depending on the listener, but whatever that picture may be, I can assure you it will be vivid.
On the one hand, I did find it difficult to distinguish one song from the next on this record, but on the other hand, I can’t help but feel like looking at it from that perspective alone would be completely missing the point. An album like Cutting the Throat of God isn’t designed with singles and individual, standalone riffs or solos in mind; instead, it’s more like a painting, meant to be viewed and appreciated as a whole. Sure, you can step closer to admire the way that a million individual brushstrokes have come together to create something much, much greater than themselves, but the two concepts are inexorably interwoven. This album is much more than just a collection of songs, it is the voice of impotent rage calling out from the ether, desperate to cease to be but unable to achieve the nirvana of un-being. Any music that can evoke something that potent, no matter how bleak, has done its job masterfully in my book.
With that in mind, perhaps the word “good” was the wrong thing to say at the beginning of this review. It’s too vague, and despite its intentions it actually ends up softening the blow, which I doubt is what Ulcerate would have wanted for this album. Instead, I think a more appropriate term would be “impactful”. Cutting the Throat of God certainly creates an impact, and a powerful one at that. This is not a friendly album. It does not want you to feel happy or satisfied or invigorated. It wants you to remember that you come from nothing, and someday nothing is what you shall ultimately become once more, but not before an excruciatingly drawn out, nigh eternal transitory process. It’s a terrifying concept, but it must be confronted and accepted if we are to have any hope of living meaningful lives, and therein lies the true power of music. When wielded this skillfully, the void becomes ours to tame, even if only for the briefest of moments.
Cutting the Throat of God is available now via Debemur Morti Productions, order your copy here
By: www.metalsucks.net
