REVIEW ROUND-UP: Perturbator, Greyhaven, Beauty Sleep

Perturbator

Age Of Aquarius

The further we’ve moved from the biggest push put towards synthwave’s crossover status in metal, the less all of that energy feels worth it. Names like Perturbator are entrenched within heavy music now, but how much of that is from former non-fans being converted, as opposed to more chances given? It’s not like signing to Nuclear Blast for his sixth album will be what flips a switch in James Kent’s detractors. And even of the stuff that has stuck its landing, Age Of Aquarius isn’t wowing too much. Unless you’re already a synthwave fiend, that is, in which case, trawling for recommendations is probably much lower on the priority list than diving headfirst, uninhibited, into the thing.

Because…yeah, it’s synthwave, alright! In particular, the type of synthwave you’d expect to find from Perturbator after Lustful Sacraments. The synths ring out and the percussion crashes and shudders in lockstep, inside a cavernous mix that draws from a lot of gothic music and post-punk. The tempo revs up on the likes of Lunacy and The Art Of War (with the latter even resembling more ‘traditional’ house music, if you removed its armaments), but generally, it’s all much of a muchness. And that’s okay; it’s what synthwave is, and what’s expected from Kent these days. But just like Lustful Sacraments, it’s rare that the listener is thrown a bone in terms of a hook or something to latch onto. Particularly from a point towards the end, the tentative pianos and glassy minimalism of The Swimming Pool or the ten-minute gauntlet of a title track leave you really grinding out the remainder.

On the bright side, it all sounds as extravagant and expensive as you’d want it to, holding fast even its most trudging moments. It’s the one thing that Age Of Aquarius can’t be faulted for, even when it falls into the background like, with its predecessor, Kent is wont to let it do. This time, though, it’s more noticeable when others are dragged back with it. Ulver’s Kristoffer Rygg fares the best, keeping his presence intact on Apocalypse Now while also being the sole proprietor of the album’s (apparent) overall themes of individualism and conflict. On the opposite end of that scale, Alcest’s Stephane Paut is almost impossible to locate on any of the title track’s ten minutes, save for a few buried screams. Venus is another struggling case, featuring Author & Punisher but with none of Tristan Shone’s caustic, industrial hellfire that could’ve given it a new taste.

And yet, you get the distinct impression that Age Of Aquarius does everything that Kent wants it to, more or less. It certainly is another Perturbator album, one that feels nominally big and impressive, no extra miles needed. It’s for the fans as much as any niche artist’s sixth album is, and you can’t come down too hard for that. But in chasing those ends, the usual synthwave barriers and blockades are locked into place exactly where they always are, and that’s a bit of a tiring stipulation to run into over and over again. From the point of view of someone discovering this for the first time, it’s a really hard sell. Even if you’re well-versed but just not enamoured, it’s not much better.

For fans of: Carpenter Brut, Gost, Magic Sword

‘Age Of Aquarius’ by Perturbator is released on 10th October on Nuclear Blast Records.

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Greyhaven

Keep It Quiet

There are few better feelings in music than when something finally works. What is better is what that thing’s been within grasp for a while, but the final bit of reach necessary has proven elusive. With Greyhaven, they’ve often walked the walk of a band that’s a cut above tech-metal’s cavalcade of homogeneity, but still without the songs to back it up. And on 2022’s This Bright And Beautiful World—especially on a revisit—you could see how close they were. Keep It Quiet, then, looks like the couple of necessary paces forward have been taken.

One thing you’ll notice is how tech-metal is basically just around in trace quantities now. Progressive post-hardcore is more Greyhaven’s bag now, appropriate to fit the rougher, less-sandblasted production they have. It also makes Keep It Quiet pop a lot more thanks to its abundance of hooks, the area which Greyhaven have predominantly beavered away at to make stronger than ever. Early cuts Shatter And Burst and Burn A Miracle carry the feel of a band revitalised, not just in a notched-up pace but in how full-throatedly Brent Mills delivers. The aim would appear to be for a gigantic, guttural rock record this around, dashed with some of Nick Spencer’s technical shredding, but largely condensed and consolidated.

Of course, to throw in a word like ‘simplistic’ would be totally out of pocket. You get the impression that Greyhaven want to avoid that at all costs, thus narrowing their tightrope and making their balancing act more praiseworthy. In the wrong hands, a song like A Night In October is primed for losing its grip and flying too close in either direction, but Greyhaven’s marriage brings as much as possible out of it. Same with the steady acoustic build of Technicolor Blues and the perpetually sidewinding From The Backseat Of A Moving Car; without question, Greyhaven are more tapped into their best qualities than ever before.

It’s all just self-evidently good now, compared to the apprehension towards fully bestowing such a claim on Greyhaven previously. The fact there isn’t the need for meticulous analysis only speaks to that further. Keep It Quiet simply works on every front it needs to, presented clear as day. And honestly, that’s a great place for Greyhaven to be. For as much as the prog / tech-metal conversation has sidelined them in the past, stepping out of it to retool and rejuvenate themselves is a smart move. It’s produced this, after all, where, for the first time, Greyhaven can comfortably be called ones for whom it’d be a shame to let slip by.

For fans of: Thornhill, Finch, Better Lovers

‘Keep It Quiet’ by Greyhaven is released on 10th October on Solid State Records.

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Beauty Sleep

The Whole Damn Cake

If you look at the overall visual presentation of Beauty Sleep and think it’d be a perfect, easy imprint onto a Confidence Man album, you’d be spot on. They’re like the reverse side of that group—smaller, indie-leaning and more openly queer, but proponents of self-affirmed joy and exuberance nonetheless. Theirs is a stripe of synthpop reliant more on its mood and vibe, specifically on The Whole Damn Cake, the journey towards ‘radical happiness’. And as a duo that is this small, indie-leaning and openly queer, you can tell it’s a journey that Beauty Sleep have embarked on doggedly and wholeheartedly.

In terms of how it’s laid out, The Whole Damn Cake definitely has an appropriate feel from every point of view. Musically, it’s light and unobtrusive in how it dabbles in indie, synthpop and dream-pop; structurally, meanwhile, it’s a bit long for what it offers with some definite padding on the way. On the bright side, out-and-out missteps are few and far between, and very easy to identify. Unfamiliar is a great example of Beauty Sleep being ill-fitted to anything too hard or square, as the copious amounts of AutoTune make the wheezy, chewy synth-plastic it’s shaped from feel all the more processed and artificial. Compare it to the glazed-over indie-pop shimmer of You (You’re All I Wanted) or the organic synthpop of BIG + BAD and No Fever Ever Lasts, and the chasmic difference is blatant.

For the most part, it’s the overall pleasantness of The Whole Damn Cake that proves its best feature. Hooks aren’t exactly steamrollers but the colours and flourishes they’re built from drip with the exact appeal they’re supposed to have. It’s meant to give the impression of bright, boundless wonderment and fulfillment, even coming into the text of the album in a roundabout way on the closing pair Big Sky and Take A Look Back. As for Cheylene Murphy and Ryan McGroarty, they, too, embody an energy that’s just happy to breathe and be. The fact that neither are technically gifted singers isn’t the point; what is, is how they both clearly love the experience of performing, another thread of radiance weaved into The Whole Damn Cake’s already-inviting glow.

What comes to pass isn’t any sort of transcendent entry into its medium (even in the queer side of indie- and synthpop when a band like MUNA exists), but Beauty Sleep are really likable, all the same. There’s a messiness and shagginess that synthpop doesn’t often allow, something they lean into and effectively pull their whole persona from. It circles back to the Confidence Man parallels there, who also eschew the clean cuts and—for lack of a better term—dignity you might associate with house music, and rocket off into space for it. Beauty Sleep aren’t quite to those heights, but they have liftoff, nevertheless. As they themselves would say, in fact, they’re not just the cherry on top.

For fans of: MUNA, Confidence Man, Troye Sivan

‘The Whole Damn Cake’ by Beauty Sleep is released on 17th October on Alcopop! Records.

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Words by Luke Nuttall