The Mother and the Enemy

Lux Occulta has always struck me as a band with ambition and creativity but without the inspiration or ability to really pull off their game convincingly. They started off playing slow, dreamy black/doom of a sort with lots of pretty embellishments, and by their third LP, "My Guardian anger" had assumed more of a death metal mask. "My Guardian Anger", though awkward in places and making use of synthesiser in an occasionally flowery manner, is without doubt the band's most accomplished work; and one might be forgiven for expecting even greater subsequent developments from the Lux Occulta camp upon hearing it.

However, what we have contained on this 2001 album is what probably amounts to the death gasps of the band, or at least an end to the Lux Occulta sound as we know it, multifarious though that sound may be. Lux Occulta always have had a little trouble finding their niche. Some might argue that this is more a case of a band that is eager to experiment and push the envelope of their sound, but it has always seemed to me as if they were a bit lost in the metal world and not quite sure how best to manifest their ideas.

No more so is this evident than on "The Mother and the Enemy". No longer content to try recording different albums each with a rather novel and unique approach, the band has thrown so many contrasts onto this disc that the result is like being at some horrible dinner party where the host, completely oblivious to matters of mood or flow, throws a dozen CDs into his disc changer from his mum's gospel collection to his six year old son's kiddy anthems to his neighbour Bob's Argentinian tango and Residents albums. Listening to this album is like going on a club tour of a big city, briefly stopping by each bar to see if the music is worth paying the exorbitant cover charge, and then moving on. At best this is rather annoying, and at worst it's incredibly jarring and kills any mood Lux Occulta seem to have been trying to build.

And unfortunately, as would probably be the case with the majority of these clubs, the music on offer here, whether it's the jangly and mechanical but rather technical death metal sounding stuff, or the Portishead-like female fronted mellow stuff, or the noisy and repetitive industrial metal stuff, is not terribly interesting. Predictably the band is at their best when in as close to full death metal mode as possible, but even this formula falls short. What this particular style of playing reminds me of most is of course the band's previous album, but with the tinkling, rolling synthesiser noodling replaced with mechanical noises and such. It's rather like the heavier tracks on Fleurety's "Department of Apocalyptic affairs", but much more aggressive and less quirky. It doesn't help that although these songs sound impressively overwhelming at first in the sense that only technical metal can be, with their off-kilter and stuttery rhythms and unexpected breaks and wanky guitar solos, repeated listens makes one realise that interspersed are a lot of drawn out, boring sections that generally possess about as much riff craft as your average "noisecore" or industrial metal album. Often, as in the case with Meshuggah, its only the unconventional rhythmic nature of the music that makes it seem complex and challenging, though to be fair, Lux Occulta are not afraid to show that they are in fact superb musicians from time to time. This fails to impress though on anything other than a level of surface aesthetics, and not even a surprise twist like the wailing saxophone solo that comes out of nowhere in "Architecture" are going to save these tracks, at least for this listener.

And that's not even half the album. We also get some vaguely jazzy sounding pieces that feature a woman with a decent, lower-range voice taking centre stage and backed by "groovin" electronic percussion and synthesised burblings. I must admit that I enjoy the music of Portishead and some similar artists from time to time, and in no way are these Lux Occulta tracks as hideous as the slightly discordant disco otherwise known as EBM. They're quite inoffensive, though, and one has to wonder why, in a song like "Yet Another Armageddon", which has a pretty catchy melody and swingin' shuffle beat, why this full band doesn't make use of all its members so much of the time and really spice this thing up. For the electronic arrangements are sparse and simple, and I find myself unconciously adding in sliding bass fills and cleanly picked jazz guitar in my head, just to keep from growing bored with this minimalistic platter. More to the point though, these tracks don't work because this is not Lux Occulta's territory. They're treading water in these alien musical climes that they are dabbling in, and for a veteran *metal* act, this is far from good enough.

I haven't even spoken of the heavier, more industrial influenced side of this album. It rears its head a few times and let me tell you, it is far from pretty and will have most of you, I suspect, itching for the "skip" button within a very short order unless you find the idea of Fear Factory with screechy vocals and a needle stuck in a record groove appealing. Imagine the annoying, bullshit "riff" intro to "Replica" slowed down and looped for five minutes...if you dare.

Sometimes the band mixes these styles within songs, but the preferred method seems to be to keep the disparate elements separate most of the time. I still can't decide whether this is really a positive asset or not. Probably, since death metal that randomly switches to industrial and trip-hop within the same song would be a frightening and dire prospect. However, these guys are certainly not Sigh or even the also rather crap Maudlin of the Well, and the crazy juxtaposition of styles on offer here won't convince anyone. What will Lux Occulta do next? Either address the obvious schism within their ranks and settle on something to play, or break up, I expect.