A Fragile Mind

I was arguing the other day with this guy about who the greatest progressive metal act of the new millennium was. For me it was by all means the band under scrutiny here leaving other candidates like Nevermore, Symphony X, Dream Theater and Circus Maximus far behind. When the guys unleashed their self-titled debut upon the world in the distant 1999, this world knew that a new behemoth was coming, one that would have the scene shaking with trepidation of whatever the band were ready to throw at it. It’s not very clear whether the Tipton brothers (Troy & Jasun) had been influenced by their peers Eidolon from Canada, whose first opus was named “Zero Hour”, and whose creative engine comprises two brothers as well, Shawn and Glenn Drover…

Anyway, the two bands’ styles are not really identical although both are some of the finest moments on the metal field for the past twenty years. With their sophomore effort “The Towers of Avarice”, the Tipton brothers literally towered above the rest with the inimitable complex structures, the copious amounts of atmosphere, and the more aggressive rifforamas which were attracting the thrash metal crowd even. With this masterpiece under their belt, the band found it necessary to re-record the debut in order to fit the higher standards set, under the title “Metamorphosis” which saw not many radical alterations made to the original material. The album reviewed here arrived to become the middle ground in the guys’ career, a go-between between the more atmospheric, more dramatic approach from the beginning and the darker, more aggressive one acquired on the last two showings.

As such this opus has the best of both worlds although it starts showing its teeth more widely with a sinister grin rather than with a sorrowful smile. “There for Me” has no qualms spared for the soporific side of the fandom the band shredding in a dispassionate, almost Meshuggah-esque manner with the excellent soaring emotional vocals contrasting with the sterile shredfest, the latter courtesy of the complete unknown at the time Fred Marshall, the new face in the line-up. The riffwork is unbearably heavy also recalling the one of the brothers’ side project, the industrial death metallers Death Machine, the lead guitar serving as the mellower mediator carving a few more melodic burrows into this hard-hitting, “soulless” drama. “Destiny is Sorrow” gives out a lot with its title, but in the music department we have another intricate dark saga with virtuous staccato riffs, mazey progressive build-ups and faster-paced cuts the latter the exact opposite to the sprawling balladic lyricism in the middle. “Brain Surgery” is a short stomping proto-thrasher with Marshall giving standout performance “duelling” with the guitar “skirmishes”, stealing the show on the breath-taking balladic section.

“Losing Control” carries on with the balladic infatuations with a brilliant quiet introduction which later gets mixed with more aggressive riffage Marshall remaining on a high level with his deeply attached vocal exploits. “Twice the Pain” offers the next in line serene start, but the labyrinthine shredding resumes reaching serious thrashy proportions despite the serenity from the beginning being repeatedly thrown into the picture before the band branch out into a speedier, more dynamic digression towards the end. “Somnecrophobia” is heavy technical, all-instrumental, thrash the guys moshing with some of the most seismic riffs around producing superb tapestries of intricacy; a virtuoso display of musical mastery with dazzling lead sections provided as well. The title-track is 11.5-min of progressive metal craftsmanship spending some time initially in the obligatory at that stage soothing balladisms which this time reach the 4-min mark; the band embark on a hard-shredding journey after that the resultant riff-fest becoming jumpy and not very predictable in the second half akin to Watchtower and Spastic Ink. alongside nice soaring melodies, a great captivating symbiosis which concludes the guitar-driven side of the album as “Intrinsic” is a dreamy operatic closer with the bass assisting the sweeping omnipresent keyboards.

Definitely not music for “fragile minds” with so much going on the whole time, and by no means entertainment for the more tender side of the genre enamored with laid-back stuff ala Shadow Gallery and Pain of Salvation. This is metal on the really heavy side of the spectre where also acts like Andromeda and Nevermore belong, but Zero Hour’s thrash engine is more pronounced although to talk about any headbanging escapades would be too farfetched due to the inordinately dense riff applications. This is music for serious connoisseurs, ones who can sit down and listen with care, trying to follow the numerous nuances which make sense the whole time including on the gigantic compositions. This album can be considered the easiest to swallow from the band’s repertoire containing only two lengthy tracks the rest following marginally more accessible paths frequently bordering on techno-thrash which to some may be the better proposition also featuring plenty of dynamic, more lively moments.

The guys never put a foot wrong during their career; the next two albums were also exemplary works of multi-layered progressive metal with delights at every corner, and who knows how many more such moments they were going to bestow to their fans if it wasn’t for Troy Tipton’s nerve injuries that put an indefinite hold on the band’s activities. Two other outfits rose from the ashes of Zero Hour later, Cynthesis and Abnormal Thought Patterns the Tipton brothers leading both, but the music of either act is much mellower and doesn’t have many ties to the father band’s magnanimous labyrinthine intensity although both formations operate within the progressive metal parametres, and would be a sure pick for many progressive metal lovers.

Another zero hour is going to come, that’s inevitable; one that would bring things back to (ab)normal, and would line-up the next squadron of dark deceivers ready to enter the next stage of complicated, challenging progressive metal feats.

Lightning never strikes twice, chips will always be on shoulders, and idioms really do a good job at summarizing situations. Zero Hour are perhaps one of the most important progressive metal bands to have seeded from the United States and are responsible for achieving utter magnificence throughout their early work that zoomed into technicality without losing a sense of melody, which sparked so much creativity and power in the band that it's no mystery why "Towers of Avarice" is considered a landmark release in just about every way. "A Fragile Mind," however, seems like a natural outing considering Zero Hour's metamorphic identity and exile of singer Erik Rosvold. The ideas aren't as fresh, the performances aren't as riveting, the creativity isn't as compelling, and the mathematical mysticism provides less power and structure than before, but "A Fragile Mind" still provides a unique slab of material only Zero Hour could have forged.

Frankly, Zero Hour's direction lays back a bit on all the academics and focuses on digestible structuring, obviously creating songs driven more so by riffs than atmosphere. Being that Zero Hour is Zero Hour, it's actually a comfortable transition for one concrete reason: they don't screw it up. One could say their path is more in tune with modernism, but Zero Hour still dishes out their electronic bloodline: Jasun Tipton's virtuoso guitar work, Troy Tipton's psychotic bass plucking up and down, and Fred Marshall's explosive voice that sounds so much like his predecessor it isn't even possible to tell the two apart. Things turn a little sour when three songs crammed in the middle of the record swiftly devalue Zero Hour's decency by rehashing previously-used riffs and patterns, producing banal carbon copies in more ways than one; certainly derailing an unusually-successful listening experience for a cluster of musical charades, hopping here and there with no noteworthy aftermath.

A much-needed insurrection suddenly occurs when the title track rolls around, revamping the album's direction in a way that potently illustrates a lush resonance of simple yet power riffs, phenomenal lead guitar work, and an ending melody which enthralls with each sequence; the song itself is a conscious demonstration of Zero Hour's absolute power. None of the record's woes stop the title track - an eleven minute monolith - from being completely excellent when everything is said and done, thankfully. Nothing really comes between the album and the listener’s enjoyment beyond that, making the universal effort feel both omnipotent and rightfully rejuvenated.

"A Fragile Mind" isn't Zero Hour's finest hour, but it certainly gives radioactive testament to one of progressive metal's most unique and creative leaders furthering their sullen biography through cryptic measures and a hint of moonstruck magic that provides much more substance than the average bear. I'd definitely check out the band's other releases, which are - bluntly putting it - sharpened at an all-around superiority than "A Fragile Mind," perhaps because the album is a bit more modern and definitely winks at several mainstream norms instead of Zero Hour's signature blueprints. Still, it's certainly worth a listen.

This review was written for: www.Thrashpit.com