Within Destruction
Animetal
An explosion of texture and colour awaits in Within Destruction’s Animetal. Holding nothing back, the trio are doing exactly what they want to do, and it’s thrilling to see yet another side of the band’s character. While having not entirely abandoned the realms of deathcore, the ferocious heaviness in this album is unrelenting—the fusion of electronics, raucous high energy and anime-inspired touches makes Animetal an album that is, quite simply, fun.
Thrown into the whirlwind of dizzying electronics and thundering rhythms, Animetal throws open the doors to Within Destruction’s anime world. The melodic chorus ties the aggressive verse with the following high-octane (if not slightly cheesy) chants of “Animetal”. There’s an intriguing fusion of genres materialising here already and it’s only the opening track. Demon Child’s groove laden rhythms and synth accents bring a pop-feel to this hard-hitting and heavy offering. The clean vocals and catchy lyrics of the chorus bring a brief contrasting uplift from the dark. A discordant sound resides in Kanashibari. which might just have the catchiest chorus yet, amidst a sea of ferocious harsh and a fury of distorted instruments and synths. Trap cymbals and beats add even more texture to the already immense soundscape. Within Destruction’s savagery continues in the raging Bitter Embrace. The brutal Fate // Separate entwines melodies with power through layered clean and harsh vocals, lashings of riffs scattered across the track, and a bone-shattering breakdown.
Cybergirl brings a modern metalcore sound with a cyberpunk-esque feel. Dynamically the track ebbs and flows through a more minimalist verse into full anthemic yet danceable chorus. Softer and more expressive, Incomplete, while lighter sonically carries more depth with its intimate and personal quality. Some of this ‘lightness’ continues with Stay 4ever but ultimately it soon returns back to the sheer intensity that dominates Animetal. An eerily dystopian atmosphere emerges from the haunting Automation. It explodes into the most guttural, demonic harsh and dissonant instrumentation. Hide & Sick’s driving momentum is yet another thrilling heavy onslaught. Indulging further in trap cymbals and electronics, Torment’s moody edge sees Animetal continue to unveil hidden gems even as the album heads towards its close. The finale, A Love That Slowly Died, ends on an unexpected sonic offering (though expecting the unexpected should be the norm at this point having journeyed most of the way through Animetal). It’s an epic fusion of pop sensibilities, modern -core edge, and charismatic hooks.
From beginning to end Animetal is a compelling, intriguing and, at times, entirely ludicrous album. Within Destruction’s experimental twists and turns hide surprises around every corner. There’s a lot to take in across the release, and after the initial shock, subsequent listens begin to reveal aspects that might have been missed the first time around. By the end, Animetal is exciting, amusing and most enticing. • HR
For fans of: Hanabie, ten56, Face Yourself
‘Animetal’ by Within Destruction is out now on Sumerian Records.
The Pale White
The Big Sad
The Pale White are a testament to how the tolerance of the music-listening public is routinely abused. By no means are they solely at fault for that; they’re just the most relevant to the discussion right now because they have a new album out. As soon as another of the horde of price-slashed indie / alt-rock nobodies makes a move, the buck can be passed to them. It’s just unfortunate for The Pale White that it’s now their turn in the firing line. Though, is there an easier target than an act who choose to call themselves ‘The Pale White’, as if to proclaim their lack of features or individuality as the point?
The Big Sad, therefore, is one of the most ungratifying sorts of albums to talk about, listen to, or even exist in the same ecosystem as. It’s got the same inability to forget object permanence that The Pale White had on Infinite Pleasure, only worse now when there hasn’t been an iota of advancement in those four intervening years. Where they’d previously built some Amazons-esque muscle, it’s now become limp and atrophied. Bear in mind, it wasn’t great when that was there, but it at least was something of a barrier to a meandering slog of these proportions, that feels every one of its 45 minutes. And that’s across the board, too. Other than Woolly Thunder and the tiny yet appreciated bit of kick it has, there’s barely a moment on The Big Sad that even entertains the idea of being memorable.
Worse still is that The Pale White seem to have no idea how this all looks. It’s “the sound of a band that got tired of slamming on the fuzz pedal to tick the ‘rock’ box,” proclaims the album’s press release, as if the mere notion of something different excuses such a profound drag. The nice ideas that are here—stately indie strings; the occasional supple bassline—aren’t the automatic wins they’re positioned at. There’s still the flavourless production to contend with that’s a much bigger bugbear, or Adam Hope’s reedy voice that’s at its most lukewarm and impotent on January, Please or Preparing For The Big Sad. It’s like a face in the crowd has its face taken away, and tries to spin that as a bold, new reinvention of itself.
It’s not, for the record. How can it be? When you toss your only feature—let alone any that could be called ‘defining’—what do you even have left to work with? The press release also says this “[represents] a beacon of light for the future,” but even that’s a back-breaking stretch. The truth is that The Big Sad is the quintessential indie-rock sophomore slump, taking what felt like a locked-firm entity incapable of movement and trying to do just that. Thus, the result is this piecemeal, dull, laborious effort that a band with appeal already as limited as The Pale White’s was hadn’t a hope in hell of making work. The Big Sad? By the end, you’ll be big bored. • LN
For fans of: VANT, The Luka State, The Amazons
‘The Big Sad’ by The Pale White is released on 18th April on End Of The Wall.
King Kraken
March Of The Gods
Surprisingly, King Kraken are not as Norse-sounding as their name and album title may infer. Never mind helming a longship; they’d sound more comfortable playing for free rounds at their local’s rock night. Then again, it’s not like your average midlife crisis vehicle would hitch itself to Bloodstock and actually turn out a well-attended set, is it? That’s on top of them now being up to their second album, which is an unthinkable milestone for a lot of bands still at the teeth-cutting stage. Dunno—maybe there’s something more worthwhile to King Kraken than some rather meagre outward impressions might suggest.
…well, that’s probably jumping the gun a bit, but March Of The Gods still isn’t bad. For a group of guys trying to recreate the metal stylings of a slew of bands now comfortably in pension age, King Kraken aren’t as locked-in on their influences to an almost comical degree. There’s nary a glimpse of cringe ‘metal or die’ attitudes that often lock their proprietors into toilet-circuit slogs for the rest of time. Sure, the majority of King Kraken’s record collection is probably unaware the ‘70s ever ended, but traces of Clutch or Black Label Society serve to freshen things up when necessary. In fact, Mark Donoghue’s voice fits rather snugly between Zakk Wylde and Neil Fallon, with its gargle that’s particularly attuned to broadsword-wielding metal bombast.
Though, to say that King Kraken get the most of that is probably overstating where they’re at just now. They’re definitely past entry-level stuff, but you can also tell that March Of The Gods isn’t the product of seasoned road-warriors who’ve been at this since time immemorial. The instruments could often do with loudening up and seeing some more beef, especially Richard Lee Mears’ drums towards the beginning. Even though Romesh Dodangoda’s more capable production job means this doesn’t sound like it was recorded in the same front room used for band practice, King Kraken aren’t quite breaking the threshold just yet. In essence, they’ve still got that ‘local metal band’ feel, yet to chisel out the finer details of their own metal visage. You can tell when the album isn’t shooting further than nebulous metal ‘stuff’, be that in descriptions of a big monster on El Giganto, coming back to the Viking aesthetic on Berserker, or simply a sweeping, heartfelt ballad on Hero.
By the end, what you get is a wheel that hasn’t been reinvented, or augmented, or even all that optimised, but it gets done exactly what it sets out to do. And there is worth in that, regardless of how aggressively King Kraken will get jostled around by the long-standing acts with a clearer foothold in this approach. For enjoyable, low-commitment metal, March Of The Gods definitely fills a hole. For anything more…well, with the overwhelming breadth of metal, it’s no crushing blow that King Kraken can’t provide that. They’re good at what they do, and that’s totally fine. • LN
For fans of: Black Label Society, The Raven Age, Clutch
‘March Of The Gods’ by King Kraken is released on 18th April.
Words by Holly Royle (HR) and Luke Nuttall (LN)
