A View of the Other Side

“…to nullify life with an evil look in the eye…”

Brazil’s Explicit Hate gave their listeners something to look forward to with seven tunes newly brewed from their collective gray matter, having dismissed the material on both previous demos to make way for some fresh sonic thought. Boy, that was nice of them. Don’tcha wish more bands showed the courtesy? Maybe, just maybe, the threesome weren’t too thrilled about recording what would be a demo anthology and maybe, just maybe, they thought their then-current fan base deserved some sounds clean off the cleaver. Regardless, whatever had been broiling in their crusted little oven tasted good enough for Cogumelo to throw them a small, one-record deal.

The consequence is A View of the Other Side, an album that’s luckily less conservative than its title and generates more progressively primal panache than its cover. Musically we’re talkin’ earlier and cleaner Dorsal Atlantica and Sepultura though with more fluidity and care during their fairly widespread melodious stints, stints that may or may not have been inspired by similar sources, such as a more stressed-out Taurus. But whether motivated by the sounds of the day (or day before) or churned up on its own, there’s range here that stretches a little farther than arm’s reach.

While much of this lp’s momentum rumbles palm muted and derivative of many acts out there, they do throw in some sexy sections to perk up the party; “No Life”’s rapidly drum-shifted rhythm, “The Other Side”’s articulate and classically-influenced establishing solo that’s a first cousin to Sacred Reich’s delicate instrumental “Layed to Rest” from a year earlier, and sectors of “Insanity Future” all survive the album’s more brutal instincts. In addition, there’s some eventful soloing here, ‘cause Victor Kelly and Gus Santoro whip around some arrangements that border on inventive whether they’re stitching along notes in crisp satisfaction of one another (“Insanity Future”, “The Mirror”, “The Other Side”) or flinging them in all directions wild and screaming (the swan song solo of “No Life”, “Invasion from Inside”). However, more surprising are drummer Rod Santoro and guitarist Gus sharing the mike’s limelight, creating a picnic of Kreator-ish proportions in more than just vocal sound, and while this sparring match is more Mille (Gus) respectful than Ventor (Rod), you can’t miss the gist.

But then you have “The Trip”, the journey’s 3+ minute last leg, jangled with a lightly psychy underpitch (hence the title), where the entire band simply dozes off at the wheel in mid-shift (but with its inorganic, mindless, and, most importantly, repetitious ride, there’s no wondering why). The logic behind this track, let alone pegging it as their debut’s (as far as they knew then, it was) finale, eludes me. It probably eludes them now as well.

And with that, the hundred dollar question is: with two guitarists playing rhythm and lead and obviously one smacking skins, who’s got bass? No one, apparently, but I can’t really say it hurts the album’s sound.

While Explicit Hate’s orphan release can’t really sniff the upper echelon of the Brazilian scene, it certainly smells better than the sewage clogging things under their native Rio streets.