A Town like This

During the mid-late '90s, when virtually all forms of metal still current today -be it the traditional forms, the extreme varieties, the mixtures of the aforementioned with progressive/technical factos- were either completely codified already or actively in the process of being consolidated, two main approaches appeared in an effort to keep metal evolution going: Either bring the basic tenets of any particular style to hitherto unimagined extremes (Cryptopsy or 1349 being adequate examples), or rather choose to experiment with progressive or off-kilt flavours to an established formula. Both approaches produced on one hand memorable and forward-thinking works, and on the other, stuff that is best left to the second- and third-tiers of the world of metal: Things which are best described as innofensive. The latter were greater in number, yet those numbers dwindled very quickly on accound of their transitive (or simply mediocre) nature. These efforts were mainly the consequence of previously well establishing band trying to muscle their way into the present/future, with varied results. Bands like Napalm Death and Gorefest, foreseeing a bleak future for Death Metal, tried out something that was still quite new, and slowed down their sound to achieve a groove/death'n'roll inflection, which expectedly split up their fanbase, raging to this day on whether albums like Diatribes and Soul Survivor are utter trash or a genius move. Be that as it may, their artistic merit cannot be denied, whether it's your particular cup of tea, or no.

All the while, of course, new bands were presenting their first offerings to the world, and there were a lot that leant towards the latter of the two options: Taking a familiar collection of characteristics and infusing them with an unexpected, often avant-garde modus operandi. Some, even, took cues from bands that were so ahead of the curve that they were putting out out-there, leftfield albums before the crisis arrived. These bands, then, benefited from having taking cues from pioneers before there was a need to repopulate that brief draught of creativity that was so pervasive in those years.

This, the first major effort by a relatively new (at the time) british band, proves to be the young inheritor of a sound that was still controversial, or at least poorly understood, in the second half of the '90s. I haven't listened to their demo, which apparently is a lot more "traditional", nor have I ventured further into their discography. This latter oversight is a fault that would seem, and probably is, inexcusable, but I do excuse myself by the fact that I was so taken away by what I found that I absolutely forgot that the band ever did anything else for years; I forgot that this was not a one-album band, in fact, until I felt the urge to write this review. I hope you see in this, then, nothing but a happy portend for what is to come in the in-depth appraisal of the music found herein.

Thine's A Town Like This, then, belongs to the young and fresh-faced albums that had either found a cohesive sound on their own (though it is less likely, considering their epic black/folk origins), or took enough cues from the bands that were trying to evolve in order to survive (thus avoiding creative extinction, exemplified by Marduk and Dark Funeral and countless others), while still leaving plenty of breathing space for their own voice, their own identity to bloom and blossom. Before going into specifics, I consider this to be an exemplary endeavour, the outcome of which, even though it is now almost a quarter of a century old, should still be taken as a role model, since it has a lot packed in to learn from, and also it seems to have been criminally ignored. Hopefully this will change. To recapitulate, for this album at least, Thine seems to have been looking in the general direction of bands like Atrox, Fleurety, and In The Woods.... just as they were attempting to grow out of their (no doubt wonderful, but exhausted in terms of feedstock) first incarnations. I can very much get a taste of what would have happened had In The Woods... released an entire, fleshed out album between the progressive extreme metal of Omnio and the multiple, unpredictable, exciting avant-garde musical meditations of Strange In Stereo. I can also hear some slight dissonance clashing with clean, I'm almost afraid to say jazzy interplay that reminds me of the calmer moments of albums like Written In Waters and 666 International, though the band never quite lashes out and goes full-blasting black metal. The elements are all there, to be sure, down to the odd industrial-ish brushstroke.

But there is plenty that is their own: Otherwise I'd have to chalk this one up to mere imitation, a Pitchshifter to the Streetcleaners past. Glad I am that this is not the case. This album holds more than its own, and while one can affirm that it belongs to the school of dark-psychedelia-informed, progressive-leaning avantgarde that had its focus mainly on mid-'90s Norway, it is, firstly, if this makes sense, unmistakably british (some parallels with Anathema circa 1996 can be made, and one can also sense the seeds of what ten years later would explode, fully-formed, in a band such as A Forest Of Stars). Methodic, self-assured, aloof, moody and doomy. The mishmash of intensity, timbre, texture and structure, all of them overall uniform yet everchanging when viewed under the magnifying glass, are all under a kind of control and conscientious administration expected from a seasoned band, but highly rare in a yet fresh talent such as Thine.

The singing is clean throughout (save for the rarest of moments in which a broken voice makes for a welcome frill to the vocal colouring), some times multitracked for effect, and the quality of the voice lacks nothing of the theatrical and the declamatory, calling to mind often the crooning Czarl made use of in is (at the time not-yet-brought-into-existence) wonderful band Virus. Musically, too, there is something of the Virus essence there, though the unpredictable dissonance of its relentless arpeggios is far less present. A comparison to albums such as Screaming Machines would be more accurate, if you were to inject that album with a heavy sense of gravitas and brooding. Again: Very british.

It is very tempting to asseverate that this album is very much outside of the metal realm and into the atmospheric rock one, but there's enough of a progressive doom (even black) flavour to the heavier/more agressive moments scattered throughout the album to make a case for it being just as metal as an album like Draconian Times is. The songs may be less catchy, and their length may make it hard to keep the listener attentive to the goings on from beginning to end, at least on first listen. This is, certainly, one of those albums that gain from repeated listening, particularly since absorbing all it has to offer on a first go at it will probably fail. In this case, though, it's a compliment. Gradually the variety and the sheer inventiveness hiding under a cloak of illusory uniformity will reveal itself, rewarding the kind of patience needed not to dismiss an experience the moment it doesn't captivate you entire, from head to toe.

The guitars offer many a flavour to the repertoire: From clean guitars drawing playful arabesques in the air, to thin, echoing metallic reverberations, to full-on doom-drenched distortion. The bass remains very much the same throughout, but it hardly remains content with playing second fiddle to the main guitar lines. It comes into and out of the foreground, as needed: It often stands on its own, under the spotlight, only to retreat again to provide a solid ground on which to accompany the dance of the other instruments. This, along with regular shifts on speed and dynamics, ensure that dullness will be kept as far away, and for as long, as possible. I dare personally to say that such an unwelcome presence is felt not even one in the 50+ minutes of the album's duration.

One would not expect a lot of timbric variety from such a self-assured, self-conscious album, and indeed such things are easy to miss if you're not immersed in the music, but they're there: Once every so often you will be caught off guard by a female voice appearing out of nowhere to accompany the main singer, only to fade away, never to return (unless...?). Here and there an organ will contribute a funky, vibrating chord that will hang in the air and go quiet before it overstays its welcome. Piano, strings, undecipherable FX, all of it presents its due tribute without becoming overbearing (this isn't a symphonic album by any stretch). Speaking of the unexpected, a lof of the musical structure itself seems designed to allow for sudden musical digressions, which vary drastically: A very intricate, technical dialogue between guitars and bass will deflect the even, steady flow of a grooving section, only to allow the latter to continue. Hard hitting doom riffs will suddenly give place to a dreamy, ambiance-heavy passage of bass, drums, and strange fluctuating dreamy sounds. Driving, jazzy rhythms punctuated by bass and echoing guitars will lead to a dirge-like progressive episode that will bring one to mind those of early King Crimson's more emotionally charged pieces. Variety is pervasive enough that it runs the risk of becoming normative and therefore beat its own purpose, but this danger is avoided both by the strong individual personality that the album exudes and the sheer sense of continuation between bands that came before and those that came later, each a valuable and necessary step towards newer sounds and fresher takes on metal in general.

The drumming suffers from not having a very interesting sound. It's not that it sounds bad, rather it lacks the warmth and full-bodied impact of the rest of the ensemble. However what it lacks in, pardon the wordplay, kick, it more than makes up for in energy and inventiveness. It can pull off entertaining grooves and enthralling intricacy with equal ease, and at least in one example (it's the only one I can recall by name right now, but there might have been more) it can pull all stops and go full-blastin', as it does in Re-Animate The Masque. The kind of music presented here, while accessible in the sense that you can hear what's going on at all times (kudos to the mixer/producer for keeping every instrument perfectly audible, on that note), is complex enough that a talent able to keep up with the changes not just in tempo but also in style is certainly one to be reckoned with. I see here that the drummer, Daniel Mullins, has played for (amongst others) Axis of Perdition, and acted as a live member for Code, which really should give you an idea of his range. The sound itself might not be stellar, but the playing certainly is.

I don't think there's much more to dissect and analyse here. This is an album that belongs to a very recognisable and rightfully revered vague school of avantgarde bands, that manages to both present a very fresh, daring, unique, idiosyncratic sound of its very own. It's an album of tension and contrasts, of details and layers, of dynamics and range, that shows it's able to creates energetic, engaging, lively, mood-heavy music which won't just profit from repeated listens, but will almost invariably invite them, because of its immediate charm and allure. More importantly to this reviewer, this is a gem of an album that has been ignored for much too long, when it should be enshrined in the Temple of Off-Beat, Leftfield Icons of metal. Hopefully this review will make for a suitable start in an effort to change that.