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¿Qué? - 89%

OzzyApu, June 26th, 2009

Let it be known that this was my introduction to The Chasm, so I’m not holding it to the standards of their later releases. However, I will hold it to the standard of production for death metal albums at the time. This isn’t in the sense that the production is god awful, but rather strange, otherworldly, and makes me feel like I’m in another dimension. It’s extremely thin, with vocals very up-close in the mix, drumming extremely drowned, and the guitars stretched to the point where they become soundscape models. The most sinister of these is the sort of “clean” or “melodic” lead, which offers no less than the most occult of obscure philosophies.

The sound of the entire album is raw and complex, yet devoted to a certain theme. Regardless of what the lyrics really entail, song after song continually puts me in thought patterns of doubt. It makes me question reality, seek the knowable unknown, and reason with the unknowable known. For these reasons, I really can’t ever see myself “getting” into the music. The songs are great, but it’s this ever-ominous presence that bars my transcendence into complete enjoyment. Even after futile investigations do I come up with little evidence to explain why these songs were written and recorded in this way.

Listening to the beginning of “Confessions And A Strange Anxiety” (and further through) starts off in a culmination of noticeable traits revolving around how “fucking awesome” the song is. However, from out of left field roars my train of thought; notions in the ocean of motion conceived in the temple of my mind on the deeper meaning of what I hear before me. The truth goes beyond base understanding of how it “slays poseurs” and becomes fixated on a plateau of uncertainty with no convalescence for the boundaries of which humans have no control over.

Vocals do not stray far from the orthodox nature of death metal, with the growls thin in desperation. They’re subtly louder than the clamor of the drum kit, but aren’t annoying and contribute less to the atmosphere. Drumming itself is a pummeling charge, but the double bass is dubiously quiet, contradicting the obnoxiousness of the cymbals. Each cymbal crash rings in your ears and floods the music more than required, while the toms are also relatively metallic. Bass duties don’t go unheard, but their impact is minimal in the grand scheme of things. With the unorthodox song structure and riffs, they’re hardly anything to take priority over. Over the supernatural setting the bass broods onward, entranced by in relative motion.

The characteristic of this release that boggles my mind and stands as a monolith contending with the rest of the instruments, hands down, is anything dealing with the guitars. They’re spacey, mystic, paranormal, melodic if need be, and haunting on so many levels unrelated to other death metal albums. Procreation Of The Inner Temple isn’t a top contender against Entombed’s Left Hand Path or Death’s Symbolic, but it’s the most unique album I’ve ever heard in the entire scene. The songwriting is what I’d consider heretical, the riffs themselves multifaceted, and the mood I’m set in compounds reactions into bewilderment. To some degree, the guitars do border cacophony and most of the songs drag on in this manner. I end up becoming confused and lost while the music keeps driving on without a helpful hand. Many of the tracks also go much longer than our present timeline would have it do, especially when taking into account how bored you’ll become just expecting something familiar to pop up.

The overall impression keeps you curious though, proving to provide more density in its own solidarity. The tracks themselves are more like events or pieces to this puzzle withstanding time fall and fall again. Looking back on this, it really didn’t situate The Chasm high in the death metal scene, but it kept us in a state of caution. All we knew Mexico for was it’s corruption, cheap hookers, and Taco Bell. The Chasm shattered these false icons in a bid to dispel the lies, which have become acknowledged, yet erroneous, in our own civilization. I’d hell of recommend this one to you, but I can only imagine the later albums to be better not just based on omens attained through blood spilled in the name of a God long forgotten… but because the other reviews on the band page are pretty high in consistency…