When a metal musician of a certain age starts up a new side-project, there’s a non-zero chance that it’ll a) sound a lot like this, and b) not be the most enlightening thing in the world. On a not-unrelated note, this is the new venture of System Of A Down bassist Shavo Odidjian, where he’s joined by members of deathcore furniture-parts Winds Of Plague and Left To Suffer, and a man who was a runner-up on American Idol and has previously gone by the artistic pseudonym Scarypoolparty. If that all sounds too wild and ingenious a melding of minds and talents, fret not—it isn’t. Nope, this is all very much in the wheelhouse of 2000s metal that’s largely okay, but also approximately several galaxies away from being great or special.
The likelihood is, though, that this will end up being propped up regardless, as a rare crumb of output tangentially related to System Of A Down. It’s an affordable reality to bank on when coming from a band like that, even though Odidjian probably has the least defined profile of them all. He doesn’t have Serj Tankian’s iconoclasm, nor Daron Malakian’s straightforward metal ear, nor John Dolmayan’s…right-wing views and distaste for cancel culture? (Presumably?) Maybe Odidjian has the enthusiasm, as he seems to be the only one open to new System Of A Down music. Perhaps a few of his supposedly hundreds of ideas have been carried over here, probably contributing to why this isn’t quite as uninspired as other projects like it. Just look at Cry…, for instance, whose chorus wants to replicate a SOAD-ish cadence and is largely legitimised by the creative DNA within it.
At the same time, though, this is not a System Of A Down album, no matter how much it wants to believe it. A closer comparison might be Killswitch Engage and that specific class of American metal, but also removed from that conversation too much to even bleed through like that. Seven Hours After Violet (the initials spell ‘SHAV’—get it?), as a result, land in an odd way, though not so much that they end up being ‘odd’, full stop. Thare’s a strain of conventionality that’s hard to miss—think your Killswitches, Bullets, Shadows Falling et al—coupled with and burdened by an inability to fly as high as any of them.
You can tell there’s a conscious effort made to avoid that, too; ‘metal’s next big supergroup’ is the goal circled in the middle of the chalkboard. And in a sense, you can grasp how the band themselves might be convinced of that. You’ve got a big, spacious sound thanks to Morgoth’s production and effects work, and a cache of hooks aiming pretty high like on Radiance. It’s just a shame that Taylor Barber and his deeply unimpressive cleans aren’t equipped to make the most of them at all. Apparently he was brought onboard for his range, which evidence would suggest precludes an ability to do much with it, given how weak and weepy his singing frequently is. Screaming is a different story, however; that’s the area where Seven Hours After Violet consistently shine. In fact, there’s this brimstone-carved low-end roar that shows up on the opener Paradise, and it’s to the album’s tremendous detriment that it’s only brought back a couple more times.
The unfortunate thing is, that’s not a one-time occurrence, either. There’s a real deficit of overarching, noteworthily strong characteristics on this album, really doing a number on momentum or potential. It can meander quite a lot because of that, or just refuse to lodge itself in, in a way that any metal like this worth its salt should be able to. The fact it’s not entirely a lost cause only makes the disappointment run deeper. The talent among Seven Hours After Violet’s ranks is undeniable, so why does it not seem to want to gel? It’s reaching out for something bigger but giving it a fairly wide berth. Maybe it’s the fact that its polish can sometimes drift closer to being washed-out, more so than there are tangible, undeniable moments of brutality. Or maybe it’s how the lyrics forgo the drop-to-your-knees emo self-pity that’s at least melodramatically fun in favour of a clump of metal-ish sentiments that barely make sense. As gauche as the whole “this sounds like it was written by AI” commentary has become, this legitimately does; it’s borderline incomprehensible at times.
Here’s the thing among it all, though—there’s simply nothing about this project that has much consequence. Good, bad or indifferent, it’s like it doesn’t matter, because the effort just seems to fall with no staying power. The most uplift might just come from the star power of those involved; it’s what’ll get the most eyeballs on them, at the end of the day. And when the further exploration commences, what you’ll find is a band with ideas and the rough outline of what to do with them, and not much else. Frankly, with the way that these have gone down in the past, Seven Hours After Violet screams of a one-and-done. Maybe that’s wrong—maybe the pitch is just too promising to let go of, despite the underachievement—but don’t hold your breath. That’s probably the brain-fog from the lack of new System Of A Down talking.
For fans of: Bullet For My Valentine, System Of A Down, Still Remains
‘Seven Hours After Violet’ by Seven Hours After Violet is released on 11th October on Sumerian Records.
Words by Luke Nuttall
