The Curse Within

The stylistic transformations of this band have always made me wonder: have they been carefully pre-determined? Or are they a more or less natural by-product of an acquired go-with-the-flow mental frame? If it’s the former, I’ll blame them in strained conformism. If it’s the latter, then I’ll sue them for a low level of predictability… nah, I’m hardly their most disgruntled fan out there; in fact, a hefty half of their repertoire has helped made my day in more ways than one, with only the self-titled leaving a solid taste in the mouth, a trite generic modern thrash/death compendium which has no character, no physiognomy… no integrity… from this moment onward the only way was up, and the band didn’t miss their chance, shooting for the stars with two expertly-executed technically-minded opuses, the shadow of the mighty Chuck Schuldiner (R.I.P.) and his Deathly offspring looming authoritatively over those, providing the requisite visionary guidance.

The question in an act like this’ case is when they’re going to swing towards other trajectories… cause that’s inevitable having in mind their chameleonic propensity. Fingers crossed this is a positive swing, and when it becomes evident that the fearless will walk to rise on the next instalment, the listener is ready to pack up his anxiety and wade boldly into… a pretty banal commonplace modern thrash/death mixture, the remnants from the previous two instalments making it sound a tad loftier than the mentioned self-titled effort.

The sigh of relief is postponed on the album reviewed here as the latter treads the same waters as its predecessor. Please, brace yourself for another addition to the over-voluminous pool of Gothenburg sound worshippers, a professionally-performed albeit pretty soulless rendition of said sound, with more poignant melodies applied this time. However, this last ingredient hardly exonerates this slab from its derivative nature, the guys betting on velocity as well (“The Will to Stand Up”, “Despise Your Heroes”), racing with the tunes from the early works of In Flames and Dark Tranquillity. The thing is that those tunes have been so well embedded into the audience’s psyche that rooting them out is simply not an option, especially not in such a blatantly emulative manner. Romantic semi-balladic strolls (“Just Passing Through”) are more likely to strike a chord, again recalling Dark Tranquillity (“The Mind’s I”, “Projector”), but one may find it really hard to justify the presence of mellow genre-less pieces like “Memories Turn to Ashes” and “My Last Words” which roam around aimlessly, and could pass for anything, from gothic to power metal… to post-death… to… thank god there are no reflections of those on “Stare at My Reflection”, a diverse dignified shredder that holds its head proud and above the prevalent mediocrity.

I could sit through the melo-death shenanigans on the previous outing, with a little stretch mind you, but I’m not sure why I’ve developed such intolerance for the ones presented here… and another listen the other night only deepened the chagrin. And it’s not because I have the highest expectations imaginable from the band; I will always choose evolution before staleness, but how much of an evolution is copying the feats of your colleagues? Quite faithfully at that. Certainly, to produce something entirely new within this chosen context is near-impossible… and no one really tries to achieve that, truth be told… but cutting some slack on a band who have proven themselves as capable transformers through the years… no way, provided that they’re staring at the very bottom of the barrel right now, disguised as copycats.

No, not this time; no way. And, there’s always a return from the creative purgatory, after all… as long as the stay there doesn’t get extended with a few more full-lengths… cause then the curse both within and without may acquire a permanent, stone-carved shape. Fingers crossed this is just an unwishful thinking…