ALBUM REVIEW: Eidola – ‘Mend’

Why is it that all the sycophantic hangers-on of Dance Gavin Dance always end up better than them? Well, it’s not that hard to figure out—even when allegations against Tilian Pearson eventually forced him out, their biggest black mark was always being utter, unlistenable garbage. Therefore, even with the bands directly in Will Swan’s employ, the law of averages is heavily on their side. Eidola, for one, have spent the entirety of their tenure in the DGDCU making the progressive post-hardcore of their mentor incalculably more listenable. Their pre-Blue Swan debut, 2013’s The Great Glass Elephant, could strike harder, even with the squeakier joints of the time’s more experimental Warped-core—track three’s title has aged…let’s say ‘unfortunately’—but let’s not downplay a big win here.

But it was last year’s Eviscerate that saw the biggest uptick, right up the leaderboard to become Eidola’s very best through dabbling deeper in metalcore and enhanced melody. It’s an excellent album, the culmination and realisation of their colossal ambitions, and nothing close to deserving of the second part that Mend gives it. Yes, this is indeed a double album affair, despite the throughline or carryover from one entry to the other being scarce at best. Fair enough to call it the brighter reverse to the desperate, grief-stricken Eviscerate, but it almost feels like an accidental synergy when you listen to the thing. With a different producer at the helm and a host of decisions that are counterintuitive at best, Mend’s existence in Eidola’s canon is fairly awkward. At the wrong points, you might even call it unnecessary.

Production is worth bringing up first, because it’s where Mend suffers most noticeably and chronically. It’s Stephan Hawkes behind the desk for this one, and for a guy who’s worked with Attila and Chelsea Grin in the past, he sure seems to have a problem with bringing out heaviness. It’s the first instance where the relationship to Eviscerate does no favours, in the contrast between how Mike Sahm supremely captured the creative ethos of Eidola in a metalcore-ish context, and here, where it sounds more canned than it should. It’s frankly a wonder Hawkes isn’t actually Kris Crummet in disguise, not content with simply mastering Eidola’s last couple of albums when he could smuggle in that airlessness and fireproofing that’s endemic among Dance Gavin Dance. Just look at Prodigy, where the gummed-up drum patter wants so badly to be Polyphia, but can’t commit to a proper trap edge to snap it into place. A shame, given it’s the album’s apex of pop hooks.

There are similar stark weaknesses elsewhere, chipping away at much of the good that Eidola’s efforts have built. It’s probably supposed to sound ingenious and cutting-edge—the pivot in the direction of Coheed And Cambria has been readied to the inch in spots—only for the prog and post-hardcore at the centre of reject it. There’s no adequate reason for a repertoire capable of such detailed enormity to be crushed into bubbling synthwave gruel on What It Means To Be Alone (strike two for sapped drum power, also). As for Renaissance, the piano-ballad softball that’s already out of character for straightforward earnestness and poetry, the precise last thing needed in that instance is the multi-tracking melted into a robotic hum around Andrew Wells’ vocals.

By the way, it’s tough to really blame Eidola themselves for this. They do seem to be trying to make something worthwhile and preempt the flattening that’s been imposed upon them. Why else would the drumming on Kaleidoscope feel so panicked and sweltering, if not to brute-force itself out of being neutered and / or cubed? On The Faustian Spirit, they’re even blessed with the kindness of a charitable mix that goes a little heavier, though without breaking poppy equilibrium. Perhaps that’s how Mend as a whole should’ve been, rather than its best bits existing in brief segments. Even pushing things further towards the candied tones and vocal harmonies of My Father’s House—where a lyric like “all our lives our a work of art” feels right at home—at least there’s space for Eidola to work for themselves. Wells has a great voice and range; he should be allowed to show it off.

But every time that Mend hits even the beginning of a stride, you remember songs like Who Of You Will Persevere? and The Weight Of Sin, released not even a year ago and feel tied to this out of obligation. It doesn’t make the previous installment worse, but the vestigial feel of Mend doesn’t add anything valuable either. To address the burning question—no, Eidola are definitively not rushing headlong towards being Dance Gavin Dance, regardless of Wells being their singer, too. It’d take another good decade of suckage before that particular worry. But this isn’t the way they should be going, nor is it auspicious to imagine Mend curating their directions for the future. At the end of the day, it all just reads as trying to fix something that was never broken to begin with.

For fans of: Coheed And Cambria, Dance Gavin Dance, Pierce The Veil

‘Mend’ by Eidola is released on 17th January on Rise Records / Blue Swan Records.

Words by Luke Nuttall