Whoracle

There have been two camps with diametrically opposed views regarding In Flames’ turn in style in 1997 with the release of “Whoracle”, accompanied by a somewhat smaller camp that insists that such a change did not occur. It’s pretty difficult to fathom why the third camp even exists given that the divergence between said album and all preceding material is pretty massive, but perhaps it could be chalked up to loyalty to a band that kept metal relevant during the dark days of the mid 1990s. But the more challenging thing to do is to approach this album from a standpoint of objectivity, given the heightened expectations brought on by the preceding material, and also the notoriety that the band has enjoyed for the better part of 15 years.

All things considered, insofar as the style of the controversial 1997 follow up to “The Jester Race” goes, the dominant sound is still mostly in the band’s principle style. But simultaneously, it should be noted that the one-dimensional, short and formulaic, melody before aggression, mostly mid-tempo approach that is taken here has been plagiarized to no end by countless metalcore bands who claim melodeath tendencies. The whiny and lackluster character of Fridén’s vocal interpretation of late 80s old school death shouts, which sound haggard and hoarse than they do menacing, do nothing to help alleviate the inevitable comparisons to later bands hostile to metallic tradition such as Bullet For My Valentine and Atreyu. Pile on top of this an even larger amount of whispered narrations (which are not necessarily out of place on a concept album) and even a few poorly realized clean sung passages, and the missing link between this album and the spiritual descendant of nu-metal becomes quite apparent.

Nevertheless, in spite of the many glaring flaws that were not present previously, much of this album still holds a charm and appeal to anyone who was taken in by the previous studio incarnations. The melodic material retains that tuneful, semi-folk music character that was exploited by early to mid 80s NWOBHM bands, and is delivered in a somewhat more fuzz driven character. The track layering is very well accomplished, as the wandering higher guitar melodies stand out the most, yet don’t fully detract from the heavier speed metal riffing and straight up yet pounding drum lines. The songs tend to blur together as the band doesn’t really switch keys often and finds itself rehashing similar ideas at various points of different songs, but enough variety is established through acoustic passage usage and occasionally speeding things up to keep things moderately interesting.

Perhaps the biggest problem at play here is the hit or miss tendency of the songs, as a concept album would usually lend itself to a full listen from start to finish. The marginally catchy and slow paced starting song “Jotun”, apart from having an opening riff that sounds like it was borrowed from The Police and jacked up with distortion, tends to stand out with a good amount of variety stuffed into its near 4 minute duration. Likewise, “Gyroscope” throws in a nice serene acoustic intro before punching in a familiar mix of melodic clichés, and “Morphing Into Primal” kicks up the tempo a little to add a needed contrast to a very predictable riff set. But the real strengths of this album come about when the band either fully exploits their prowess at delivering moving acoustic sections such as found in “Jester Script Transfigured”, or gets the vocals out of the picture to give the band’s riff work room to breathe on “Dialogue With The Stars” and the title song.

This is a really difficult album to have a really clear opinion on because it seems to go back and forth between being a serious effort and being a fluff fest for radio play. The album producer’s testimony that the band seemed more inclined towards goofing off rather than recording the album isn’t really a hard thing to picture when listening to this, which is somewhat irritating given that the album’s concept of human self-destruction and overall lyrical content had some real potential. This is an album that has its fair share of filler, though there are some killer pieces hidden within it, and screams inconsistent like a slow dying murder victim. Seek this in the bargain bin, and avoid listening to the shitty cover of “Everything Counts” at all costs.