Pathogenic Ocular Dissonance

No matter how many people say it, it's still unbelievable how so many fantastic bands get completely ignored. If you visit Sputnikmusic, you will find (at the time of writing) only fourteen votes spread across Tourniquet's seven albums. How does this happen when many bands get 1,500 votes for a single album? It's certainly not because Tourniquet are Christian, since other "Jesus Metal" bands get far more votes. Tourniquet has made some of the most creative thrash the world has ever seen on this release.

At their very core, the band plays thrash. However, a lot of the music is scarcely recognizable as thrash because of the copious layers of sophistication added to its palette. Most Tourniquet fans know that their medical lyrics could make you snatch up a dictionary (Gelatinous Tubercles of Purulent Ossification? Huh?), there's several vocal styles ranging from a Tom Araya shout and Scott Kelly-like croak to a falsetto wail and midrange normal voice, and that there are subtle classical music nods in the riffing. Less obvious is just HOW complex this music is: I'm experienced with progressive metal and I couldn't detect some of these niceties for several listens.

Very few bands can pull so many random ideas together and make them all work in their own places. Even the lyrics come from a direction you don't expect: who would dare to put these words together, and who could make them into an awesome song that also praises Jesus? By now, you probably want to know exactly what all this raving is about. Each instrument's envelope has been pushed, not just vocals, not just guitar.

The guitars, as I've touched on, are the reason why Tourniquet are sometimes called neo-classical. The riffs could make a classic thrash fan do a spit take (in a good way). You might not think of this as classical music, but Debussy wouldn't agree. Some prominent examples: Pathogenic Ocular Dissonance, 0:00 to 0:17; Gelatinous Tubercles, 1:57 to 2:17; The Skeezix Dilemma, 6:47 to the end.

You won't hear too much of the bass until your jaw drops. Tourniquet's then-bassist Victor Macias has a jazzy feel to his playing which is usually back in the mix but can also be heard playing on his own - and completely stealing your teeth out. Phantom Limb, 0:00 to 0:26, is pretty much jazz.

Finishing out the instrumental section are Ted Kilpatrick's drums. How does he get so ignored even though he’s been voted HM Magazine’s Favorite Drummer 10 years in a row? I was doubled over in ecstasy during pretty much all the songs. The son of a doctor, Kilpatrick is responsible for the big words and a good deal of the frighteningly exact songwriting. Every snare hit and bass drum, every cymbal hit and ride is where it should be. There’s even blast beats during Dissonance’s chorus and in the outro of Incommensurate. Gelatinous Tubercles (how many times do I have to say this name?) might be his best performance on the entire album. In the first half, he uses a steady 4/4 hi-hat beat, but hits the bass drum twice each time, and in the second half he moves between all parts of his kit quicker than a frog on a barbecue.

Hang on to your seat: There are four vocal styles, again noted above as a shout, falsetto, normal and croak. Also seen on Gelatinous Tubercles is a vocoder voice; more on how this works will be discussed later. The shout is seen in the heavier sections and has great speed; the falsetto is used much less here but can still be found here and there; the normal and croak are used in slower sections. A particular vocal highlight is at Dissonance, 2:42: the general downbeat tone of the normal voice is at its best, fitting these lyrics perfectly: “When red is green and green is grey / you’ve failed the test in column A.”

And now maybe it’s a good time for lyrics discussion. They are all superbly written. Each song means something very important and each experiment works to further the messages rather than get in their way. “Phantom Limb” reminds us that we can’t really live without God, comparing a leg to our relationship with Him and that cutting off God is like not having a leg. “Ruminating Virulence” is about our frustration with the Lord when something is taken away from us, here our ability to walk. Enjoy what you can still do even if you’re confined to a wheelchair: “When you put away bitterness / you will see what you have missed”. “Gelatinous Tubercles…” (again!) warns against nicotine addiction by using the vocoder voice as the voice of a former addict who can no longer speak normally. There are also stories about Job and Samson on this record.

However, the greatest composition which sums up Tourniquet’s entire musical vision is the ending track, “The Skeezix Dilemma”. From a pretty Spanish guitar at the start to a bizarre circus theme, and then to a thunderously heavy passage with Guy Ritter’s loudest and most menacing shouts yet, the song could be called a classical piece. By now, the tale is showing itself as a dark, almost bleak tale of child abuse, where a small board game called “Uncle Wiggily” and space 109 on the board signifies the broken home where the child lives. Finally, when he has to advance to 109 again, the young boy reaches out to God, who in the future will help him defeat this demon. But for now, the tale has to end open-ended. The remaining three minutes are Tourniquet’s “Orion” – this is MUSIC. Despite the joyous finish to the song, Tourniquet has not just brought closure to this story, but leaves space open for it to continue later.

Most bands are content just to finish their stories, but this risk proves, if it can be doubted at this point, that Kilpatrick and company are true composers that deserve to be noticed. Despite only one slightly weaker track (En Hakkore isn’t quite as good as the others), “Pathogenic Ocular Dissonance” is a musical masterwork which should be required listening for any Christian, or even any music fan. If you’re a stubborn nonbeliever, then I guess Tourniquet will just convert you. It’s just that good.