Rivers Of Nihil
Rivers Of Nihil
Depending on who you ask, there have been any number of ‘jump the shark’ moments from Rivers Of Nihil over the last few years. 2018’s Where Owls Know My Name had them reduced by many from an established progressive death metal outfit to ‘Band With Saxophone’. 2021’s The Work was a quantum leap from anything even resembling ‘proper’ death metal. 2023 found Conservative talking points among Adam Biggs’ Twitter likes, which he responded to by hand-waving and continuing his replacement of Jake Dieffenbach as frontman. But despite all of that—well, maybe not the third one; they do skew to an older male demographic, after all—Rivers Of Nihil are still kicking. If they weren’t enjoying what their lavish, borderline accessible impulses are bringing them, they wouldn’t insist upon looking to expand them every single time.
If you were to just list out the component parts of this album, it’d sound like something on the cusp of true experimental metal. There are full-on, proper death metal moments, then there are bits that sound like Ghost. The saxophone is back to slither and trill around, bringing with it plucks of banjo on one song, and what’s approaching a programmed beat on another. But then there’s the meat of the situation to tie everything together, where Rivers Of Nihil prove how drastically they’ve still got it. It’s a gigantic sound, melodic and heavy and absolutely enrapturing in every choice it makes. You do hear those individual pieces at play, but they’re never left to hang unsupported, or even feel like an errant choice that, in hindsight, could’ve been done better. For an album that’s such a drastic about-face from its creators’ initial path, the breadth of commitment to artistry can be pretty staggering.
The purists may choose to balk at how it’s done, but it’s their loss, ultimately. Having Rivers Of Nihil morph into this all-purpose, all-consuming metal monster is the best outcome, as systematically demonstrated by this very album. A song like Despair Church crams all of that impetus into one six-and-a-half minute package, as incensed death metal grows into this operatic lament, and then again into a gaping, towering goliath of a final leg before its solemn coda. It’s a beast of a song, at every turn showing the peak of Rivers Of Nihil’s abilities. And that’s really the standard for the album. Special mentions go to Jared Klein’s drumming and a startlingly prominent and fluid bass from Biggs, though there’s barely a moment of slack from anyone, at any time. It’s a marvel of metal gigantism on full display, and after you implant the additional finishes and choruses—oh, the choruses!—it could very well be the best that Rivers Of Nihil have ever sounded.
That’s a pretty insane claim given what this band have been capable of before, but there are no shark-jumps too high for Rivers Of Nihil, evidently. They’ve never stopped moving forward, even at junctures that could’ve well been considered their peak, and barefaced tenacity has found them here—a point where they’re simultaneously at their most free and refined, wringing out every last benefit from both sides. Away from that, it’s just an absolute juggernaut of an album that, for the best part of an hour, rarely falters. This is what an unstoppable force looks like.
For fans of: Gojira, Mastodon, Sylosis
‘Rivers Of Nihil’ by Rivers Of Nihil is released on 30th May on Metal Blade Records.
Will Varley
Machines Will Never Learn To Make Mistakes Like Me
The weird thing about this new Will Varley album is, despite the buzz around him being mild at best and only really consigned to the 2010s, it’s being released through MNRK, thus giving him the biggest platform he’s ever had. Maybe it’s a consequence of the pendulum swinging more favourably towards humble folk singer-songwriters again; maybe it’s just years of toil paying off. Either way, we’re now at a point where Will Varley—who once uttered the immortal line “You’ll never find an album of mine on Spotify”—is getting features from Bastille. All without a shred of compromise, as well. If you didn’t know any better, Machines Will Never Learn To Make Mistakes Like Me could be as small-scale and devoid of third-party involvement as it always was.
It’s good that Varley has been allowed to maintain this, too, if only to preserve the insularity that predominately-solo folk brings. Sure, there’s a slight drum machine tick on Everything Has A Heartbeat, but it’s not at all egregious in its use. It’s also not indicative of anything else, in this album’s aversion to technological advancement that ultimately gives it its character. At its most ‘grand’, there’s an alt-country ruggedness implanted into Different Man, thanks to the louder drums and slightly moodier tones it picks up. That’s also a general anomaly, though; Machines Will Never Learn…, at its heart, wants its previous vision to remain intact. And that’s a noble intention for an artist like Varley to adhere to. He can clearly work with it, typified by a song like Venus Returns and how its writing spirals and grows with such wonderful ease.
It’s a very isolated example, though. More often, Machines Will Never Learn… feels like exactly what it is—the seventh album from an artist whose style only gets interesting that far in when it’s forced to. Maybe that’s what the collaborations with Bastille’s Dan Smith and Billy Bragg are meant to facilitate, even if they’re mainly relegated to harmonies that can only achieve so much (though Bragg far better suits that role against Varley’s reedier voice than his solo moment on End Times). The rest of the album, while impeccably written as always, suffers from the lack of wow factor that’s afflicted a lot of Varley’s work. It’s probably unfair to hold against an album this deliberately cut back to its essence, but it’s a barrier placed in front of Varley that some singer-songwriters just don’t have. Thus Machines Will Never Learn… suffers from its ordinariness, and touts a feel that seldom digs any claws in.
That can be a death knell for a lot of solo folk singers, but at least Varley has longevity on his side. He’s hit a stride after so long of making music, and Machines Will Never Learn… is both insulated by that and a symptom of it. It’s fine in the vein of singer-songwriter fare that’s decently emotive and open, but as far as stepping into something more goes? That just isn’t here, unfortunately. The fact that Varley is still making the music he wants to is a great thing, undoubtedly; it’d just be nice to have something that could reflect some newfound magnitude in a noteworthy way. A big, new label deal won’t get all the way there on its own.
For fans of: Billy Bragg, Ben Marwood, Zach Bryan
‘Machines Will Never Learn To Make Mistakes Like Me’ by Will Varley is released on 30th May on MNRK.
Desolated
Finding Peace
The first track on Finding Peace is called The Stomper, a minute-and-a-bit intro that, on name alone, sets the tone perfectly for what to expect from a new Desolated album. This is their first in nearly a decade, and they’re evidently still packing the kerb-stomps, flying fists and outward brutality that would make a band besties with Malevolence. (Fun fact: the ‘LTD’ in ‘MLVLTD’ actually belongs to Desolated, and is not meant to be ‘limited’ like this writer believed for the longest time.) Suffice to say, it’s UK metallic hardcore of the expected variety. Desolated at least have an experienced take on it, however, which generally gives Finding Peace the upper hand of a band who are wanted in those higher tiers.
Still, going back to The Stomper, you’re effectively given a microcosm of the album before it even properly starts. Heavy, groovy and loaded with riffs, it’s Desolated’s early reveal that they aren’t putting any new pieces onto the board here. And that familiarity isn’t a bad thing, not when Desolated can so clearly roll that out with maximum efficiency. It’d just be nice to feel like this was coming from some storied band with clout in hardcore to throw around. Next to Malevolence who’ve basically transcended hardcore altogether as one of current-gen metal’s shining lights, hoping for something similar from their partners in crime isn’t too out of the question (especially now that Malev drummer Charlie Thorpe plays here, too). The closest that Desolated come is a nice bit of guitar wailing at the top of Endless Betrayal; otherwise, it’s hardcore all the way down.
And let’s just stress it again—that isn’t a bad thing. It would be if the natural rhythm weren’t clicked into, which Desolated handily manage just as quickly as they begin. There’s also the boon of brevity on their side, a crucial trick of hardcore bound to flaunting its fundamentals that makes it way easier to connect to. Finally, the personnel really can’t be faulted, as Will Putney gifts his dab hand at mixing and mastering to a unit that knows what they’re doing and then some. If you’re talking street-level hardcore, Desolated knock this out with ease, and without complacency. On Let It Slide—possibly the album’s most breakneck track—Tony Evans’ utter enmity is about ready to boil over, with the subsequent spillage clearly soaked into Victim 2.0 in lines like “I can’t wait for you to drown in your shame and guilt.”
So, yeah—don’t let the zen title and gaudy colours fool you; Finding Peace is Desolated in typically tooth-and-nail form. Maybe said form would’ve felt a little more floor-shaking a decade ago, but that’s also the only real criticism that can be levelled against it. Looking past that, Finding Peace is a hardcore album that knows its strengths intimately, and proceeds to give it both barrels at every possible moment. For anyone for whom hardcore is their thing, that should be a sign as clear as day that this is something to give a try. Your world won’t be rocked, but maybe a few teeth will.
For fans of: Harms Way, Judiciary, Guilt Trip
‘Finding Peace’ by Desolated is released on 30th May on MLVLTD.
Words by Luke Nuttall
