musician.social is one of the many independent Mastodon servers you can use to participate in the fediverse.
Mastodon site for Musicians and people into Music

Administered by:

Server stats:

155
active users

#SuicideSilence

0 posts0 participants0 posts today

Whitechapel – Hymns in Dissonance Review

By Dear Hollow

If you’re new here, hi, I’m the sellout. I’m the man who murdered mountains and toppled empires. I’m the man who saw the standards of metal and leveled them with one swing of my hammer. I’m the fallen one, the one who dragged two other miscreants low on my scorched earth campaign in wretched defiance of the golden pantheons.1 If you’re new here, hi, I’m the guy who ranked Whitechapel. This review right here is an insult to AMG’s injury, a double take of a band whose reputation is soiled like the diaper in a millennial teenagers’ skinny jeans as his hair flaps back and forth in the moshpit before he eats shit. I’m the man who murdered mountains and toppled empires who’s back for more murderizing and toppling – because Whitechapel is back, baby.

Whitechapel has always exemplified the sellout of deathcore while also being a better version of it throughout the act’s nearly twenty-year career, flexibility ultimately providing the key to success. Contrary to the perpetual breakdowning of Suicide Silence or the complete abandonment of deathcore from Job for a Cowboy, the Knoxville collective has long relied on the charisma of frontman Phil Bozeman and a three-pronged guitar attack for its natural progressions. From clean vocals to muddy productions and beyond, Hymns in Dissonance comes at the end of a lyrically vulnerable, musically controversial era, promising the return to their bludgeoning roots. In this right, it definitely delivers.

Gone are the clean vocals and introspective lyrics of The Valley or Kin, and a return to the “loud and ouchy” steel-toed beatdowns of yore. Hymns in Dissonance does its best contemporary rendition of breakout album This is Exile, and with the lyrical return of religious criticism and murderizing, it sounds a lot like 2010’s A New Era of Corruption. Bozeman’s manic vocals guide the attack, wavering between rapid-fire lyrical sputtering and mammoth callouts, while instrumentals attack with far more vigor and fury than in its predecessor. The ebb and flow between the manic blastbeats and blazing riffs, ominous leads, and the devastating chugging weight is a well-featured asset (“A Visceral Retch,” “The Abysmal Gospel”), the one-two punches between riff-fests and thick breakdowns recalling This is Exile’s “Possession” (“Hate Cult Ritual,” “Bedlam”), with a tasteful measure of melody (“Mammoth God,” “Nothing is Coming for Any of Us”), everything about Hymns in Dissonance feels trademark Whitechapel.

Whitechapel’s return to roots, while competent and unruly, is limited by what has already been done and has difficulty establishing its next steps. The only new element is that Bozeman sports more of his mid-range fry vocals. More frustratingly, aside from the two formidably dynamic closers, no song touches the previously released singles (“Hymns in Dissonance,” “A Visceral Retch”), although a few fall short as less impactful versions of them (“Prisoner 666,” “Diabolic Slumber”). Hymns in Dissonance for its vast majority, pays homage to Whitechapel’s early career, just amps it in a way that recalls a faster A New Era of Corruption. This is why “Bedlam,” “Mammoth God,” and “Nothing is Coming for Any of Us” are the best tracks in Hymns in Dissonance, as their uses of cutthroat brutality contrasts with a natural dynamic songwriting that culminates in supremely tasteful solos and yearning chord progressions that make their ominous titles translate into tragedy rather than violence – although violence is certainly present.

Whitechapel is older and wiser but still pissed off. Hymns in Dissonance encapsulates everything about the band you loved/hated back in the mid-2000s, seeing no need to progress their sound or convince the naysayers. The album just feels like the band having fun creating the heavy deathcore songs without the gravity of its last two albums – with all the simplicity and flippancy that entails. It will not change your mind about Whitechapel, but will appeal to you if you liked it when Phil looked super possessed all the time. Hymns in Dissonance is by no means their best, but it doesn’t mean to be either. Yeah, it has its moments of bloat, unnecessariness, and chuggy cheese, but feel free to unearth those skinny jeans from the closet for the one-person mosh pit because it’s pure deathcore nostalgia.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records
Websites: whitechapelmetal.bandcamp.com | whitechapelband.com | facebook.com/whitechapelband
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

Alekhines Gun

After a pair of albums which triggered superlatives ranging from “genre-transcending” to “emotive pile of wankery”, deathcore genre stalwarts Whitechapel began teasing their fanbase with four sacred words: “Back to Our Roots.” Beginning an early promo campaign with vocalist Phil Bozeman posting pictures of debut The Somatic Defilement, and leading into interviews with band members saying they wanted “to make deathcore scary again”, expectations have been set and the mouths of their fanbase have begun foaming – if not downright frothing – in anticipation. No acoustic guitars? No clean singing? No feelings? Is this the collection of hymns to carry deathcore to the church of wider genre acceptance? Wait, why are you laughing?

Hymns in Dissonance is a feral, monolithic slab of deathcore with nary a gimmick or guest instrument or crooned note to be found. Instead, what is offered up is an excellently refined, gloriously produced offering of bone-to-jell-o inducing, shoulder dislocating, windmill-triggering goodness. There are noodly leads (“Hymns in Dissonance”), human sounding drum fills, and breakdowns that seek to savage your vertebrae without devolving into lethargy-laced, mastodon-in-tar paced plods. Though no compositional ingredient comes as a surprise – there are still monster breakdowns, unnecessary slowdowns, and occasional gurgly overdoses – it’s hard to deny the sheer mastery of the elements Whitechapel put on display in composing such a violent release.

Songwriting reigns supreme, and it is here that Hymns in Dissonance excels. From the stage-ready permanent-show-opener-made “Prisoner 666” to the flirtations with beautiful melodies in “Mammoth God”; from the full on embrace of slammy excess in “The Abysmal Gospel” to the crowd chant inciting chorus of “Hate Cult Ritual”, much of the albums individual cuts work to distinguish and divide itself from its surroundings. This allows for Whitechapel to overcome deathcore’s greatest genre struggle: making a meaningful album with flow and pacing, rather than a mere collection of throw-down, brohuaha homicidal snapshots.

The songwriting wouldn’t be as impactful if it was castrated by the middle-era of Whitechapel production. Albums like Our Endless War traded in a tone that mixed all the instruments into the same bland, homogenous pitch, robbing them of their layering. Fortunately, Hymns in Dissonance co-opts the production style of Kin/The Valley and sounds fuller and more spacious than they have since the seminal A New Era of Corruption. Closing highlight “Nothing is Coming for Any of Us” slides from one of the more cement brick severing chugs into an almost triumphant, uplifting solo, while the darker, more visceral moments and the mix allows requisite breakdowns to summon all the instruments to converge on a single tone which is assuredly down with the thickness. Bozeman continues to be a vocal benchmark for the genre, oscillating between sewage-drenched gutturals and wonderfully enunciated blackened shrieks. True, he still yowls on more than the music calls for, but an increased skill in lyrical phrasing and tonal variance at least makes for a more engaging listen, particularly in an album that might put off some with the complete excision of cleans.

Though I have not courted the core in quite some time, I’m an ardent believer that no subgenre, from stoner doom to trance-djent, is utterly devoid of artistic merit when done well. Whitechapel have heeded this call with an impeccable album whose only major “flaw” is that the playing within the confines of its bloody, tropey sandbox is a feature – not a bug. Some may decry the lack of differential instrumentation as a step backward, but when considering the album among the trajectory of the band’s body of work, they couldn’t be more incorrect. A middle finger to a scene growing increasingly reliant on orchestral coverups and mindless atonal chugs in lieu of song structure, Hymns in Dissonance is indisputable quality for a genre that tends to be rejected wholesale by purists. Now open your redblack back hymnals, and let us sing…

Rating: 3.5/5

#2025 #30 #35 #AmericanMetal #Deathcore #HymnsInDissonance #JobForACowboy #Mar25 #MetalBladeRecords #Review #Reviews #SuicideSilence #Whitechapel

AMG Goes Ranking – Whitechapel

By Dear Hollow

The life of the unpaid, overworked metal reviewer is not an easy one. The reviewing collective at AMG lurches from one new release to the next, errors and n00bs strewn in our wake. But what if, once in a while, the collective paused to take stock and consider the discography of those bands that shaped many a taste? What if multiple aspects of the AMG collective personality shared with the slavering masses their personal rankings of that discography, and what if the rest of the personality used a Google sheet some kind of dark magic to produce an official guide to, and an all-around definitive aggregated ranking of, that band’s entire discography? Well, if that happened, we imagine it would look something like this…

Usually, when we do something like this, it increases our street cred in the underground, but I’m dead-set on ensuring our cred goes up in flames. This is Whitechapel, the epitome of why boomer metalheads yell at young ‘uns. For a hot minute, the Nashville juggernaut was ranked among the likes of Suicide Silence, Job for a Cowboy, and Carnifex, thanks to their brutalizing and divisive attack of deathcore. Toss in some lyrics about slaughtering prostitutes in 1880s London, and you’ve got yourself a recipe for millennial Hot Topic fandom.1 In retrospect, however, thanks to the act’s historic three-guitar attack and the iconic performances of vocalist Phil Bozeman, their whole “Cookie Monster with breakdowns” thing was a cut above the rest. I say that not just because I was a teen raised as an evangelical not allowed to listen to “This is Exile” and “Possession” (but secretly did anyway), although I’m sure that plays a very minor part.

Contrary to other long-running deathcore acts like Suicide Silence and Chelsea Grin, flexibility has been the key to Whitechapel’s longevity. Three distinct eras emerge: (1) deathcore for spooky Hot Topic frequenters (2006-2010), (2) chuggy minimalist deathcore (2012-2016),2 and (3) deathcore for Phil Bozeman to unpack personal traumas (2019-2021). With that, in anticipation for the upcoming “return to roots” release Hymns to Dissonance, let’s revisit the eight albums of Whitechapel, that deathcore band you stopped listening to because geezers said deathcore was lame.

Dear Hollow

Dear Hollow

#8. The Somatic Defilement (2007) – The influence of this album cannot be understated, but its crisis of murky grime and polished clarity – with a never-again-addressed orchestral flare – makes Whitechapel’s first official foray a confused album, nonetheless worthy of the likes of Suicide Silence and Carnifex. Punishment front and center with a murderizing theme that reflected its Jack the Ripper-inspired moniker, there’s a lot of chunky breakdowns and Phil’s absolutely vicious vocals in their fledgling stage, reflected in chunky hatred (“Fairy Fay,” “Ear to Ear”) and shining riffage that cut through the murk (“Vicer Exciser”). Plenty gained with few highlights.

#7. Our Endless War (2014) – Located smack-dab between two other albums stuck in existential crisis, Our Endless War is the pinnacle of the whole cringeworthy “the saw is the law” schtick (sorry Sodom), paired with questionable production choices and simultaneously too much and too little Meshuggah-isms. While tracks like “Let Me Burn” and “Diggs Road” kick some serious ass, the album is doomed by excessive vocal layering and unnecessary songwriting choices. While it benefits most heartily from the three-guitar attack and feels the heftiest of its era, slow bruisers (“The Saw is the Law”) feel stuck in the dense muck and more allegro offerings (“Our Endless War,” “Mono”) can’t seem to keep up.

#6. Mark of the Blade (2016) – It’s not that this one is bad, but it’s often overshadowed by the album that emerged next, as “Bring Me Home” and “Decennium” introduced clean vocals. While retaining the saw imagery and three guitars layered for maximum heft, Mark of the Blade cleans up the obscene murk for a more organic and rhythmic album that is heavy on punishment (“The Void,” “Tremors,”), surprisingly catchy and anthemic in its structure (“Elitist Ones”), and experimental enough for a human touch (“Bring Me Home”). It’s the punchiest of its era, with drummer Ben Harclerode making his last appearance on a Whitechapel album.

#5. Whitechapel (2014) – A landmark album in its own right, this self-titled effort saw Whitechapel cutting the excess from their sound into a lean, mean, killing machine. Groove shining in the spotlight, its starkness allows more freedom, as tracks can delve into more ominous atmospheres and different instrumental tricks (“Make Them Bleed,” “I, Dementia”). However, like any good Whitechapel album, the triple-pronged groove aligns wonderfully with Phil Bozeman’s most menacing performance, descending the tracks into a nadir of darkness and Meshuggah-esque ferity (“Dead Silence,” “Devoid”). A start of a new era.

#4. Kin (2021) – Everything that made The Valley so effective, but with more of the Tennessee flair and a more polished feel. Whitechapel explores the cleanly sung and the wailing guitar solos, enacting a beautiful and yearning feel that doesn’t descend into the bleakness of its predecessor but rather looks upon it as lessons learned. It maintains heaviness even if it is less feral than much of its discography – all for the sake of emotion. With more of Bozeman’s cleans contrasting with that trademark density (“Anticure,” “History is Silent,” “Orphan”), an instrumental and technical theatricality (“Without Us,” “A Bloodsoaked Symphony”), and a slightly Tool-esque edge (“Lost Boy,” “Kin”), it leaves trauma and torture in the rearview.

#3. This is Exile (2008) – As the only album more popular than The Somatic Defilement, it gets extra points for its influence – but the mania at its core has never quite been replicated. While its predecessor had enough chunky breakdowns to kill a grown elephant and This is Exile has its fair share of mindless chug (“Possession,” “Somatically Incorrect”), a palpable groove and wild technicality keeps things both grounded and utterly batshit (“Father of Lies,” “To All That Are Dead”). Yes, the back half finds itself dwelling more in hellish menace than punishment (“Death Becomes Him,” “Messiahbolical”), but for many an introduction to Bozeman’s unmistakable roar and a chaotic technicality that left Suicide Silence in the dust, it was pure deathcore nirvana.

#2. A New Era of Corruption (2010) – While not as popular as This is Exile, A New Era of Corruption is everything its predecessor was and more. Whitechapel amps the dystopian and anti-religious themes with a stunning blend of its early era colossal chunk and a good use of techy leads and dissonant swells, as tracks feel more mature, fleshed out, and purposeful (“Breeding Violence,” “End of Flesh”), the darkness of progress’ terrible cost seeping through (“The Darkest Day of Man,” “Necromechanical”), and a chunky charisma not unlike The Acacia Strain (“Reprogrammed to Hate,” “Murder Sermon”3). A New Era of Corruption was the pinnacle of Whitechapel before its self-titled reinvention.

#1. The Valley (2019) – Bozeman’s cleans in The Valley were a landmark in deathcore’s storied and bloody history, but more impressive is that Whitechapel remained remarkably deathcore – if not more devastating – in spite of them. Cutthroat brutality remained first and foremost, with shredding guitars filling every emotional crevasse (“Forgiveness is Weakness,” “Brimstone,” “Black Bear”), while clean vocals are used as moments of yearning vulnerability and hopelessness (“When a Demon Defiles a Witch,” “Hickory Creek,” “Third Depth”) and apathetic sprawls of godless wilderness reflect an existential emptiness (“We Are One,” “Doom Woods”). It’s an unflinching discussion of pain and trauma in the derelict corners of Tennessee and a vintage horror movie aesthetic that meshes surprisingly perfectly. The Valley is a balancing act of vicious and heartfelt, a monument for deathcore and -core styles in general, seeing Whitechapel’s longevity fully established. Every emotion on the spectrum is present on The Valley, an outstretched hand shrouded by the weight of doom and dread.

Alekhines Gun

For many, deathcore represents the gateway drug to heavy music, enjoyed in your youth before you mature into “real metal” proper, discarding breakdowns and angsty lyrics for reflections on the time signatures of the universe and bigger song structures. Not so, say Whitechapel. Since erupting from the ether in 2006 and dropping their first album a mere year later, this band has remained a fixture in the metal world at large, ever growing in popularity and under the disapproving eyes of genre purists everywhere. Tours opening for the likes of Cannibal Corpse and The Black Dahlia Murder while having such luminaries as Cattle Decapitation and Archspire opening for them have established them as breakdown-heaving mainstays in a world of vests and guitar solos. To celebrate their newest release, we have opted to don our Wvmps and Pvsers hats and rank their discog for your disapproval. You gosh darn elitist ones…

#8. Our Endless War – The last descent into full-on arena-bent mindless groove, Our Endless War finds Whitechapel spinning their wheels with gleeful abandon. Any sense of techy approaches or interesting guitar was stripped down, in favor of a continued distillation of simplistic grooves over Meshuggah-In-Denial tones. Buoyed by the smash hit “The Saw is The Law” – essentially the “Living on a Prayer” of deathcore – Our Endless War is bland, inoffensive, and an easy choice for the bottom of the list. It’s catchy enough – a smooth, sanded-down object of easy grooves and basic-tier breakdowns with Bozeman’s vocals drowning out the riffs as if to hide how boring they are. Tailormade for an alternate universe where heavy music is played in elevators, Our Endless War is bland, easily digestible comfort food.

#7. Mark of the Blade – Still overly polished, still easy-listening, Mark of the Blade at least flows better as an entire album rather than merely being a factory-assembled collection of grooves. Here, the first merciful signs of restlessness in the Whitechapel camp began to be felt. “Dwell in the Shadows” and “Brotherhood” broke out some swell guitar playing, which was almost entirely lacking in Our Endless War, while “Bring Me Home” finally debuted those Heckin’GoshDarn clean vocals and much more dynamic songwriting. It helps that they managed to write a second “The Saw is The Law” in “The Mark of the Blade” to keep their ability for instant catchiness on display. All in all, Mark of the Blade manages to be slightly more interesting than its predecessor, as well as be the bookend of one era for Whitechapel while ushering in the next.

#6. The Somatic Defilement – This is a fun debut ruined by some moderately whack production. Much deathcore at the time had a strange predilection for light switch-click sounding drums and guitar tones thick as plywood, and just as crunchy. The Somatic Defilement overcomes this on the strength of its songwriting. Already avoiding the dubstep style tension-build-and-release permeating breakdowns, Whitechapel emerged from the nothingness fully formed and with a set musical vision. Its youthfulness overcomes its tonal flaws, and its roughhewn edges stand as a stark contrast to what would come later.

#5. The Valley – The first major shift in the Whitechapel sound since their self-titled, The Valley sees the band putting on the closest thing they had to prog boots. Featuring oodles and stroodles of emotive (though unfairly derided as emo) clean singing, acoustic passages and honest-to-goodness ballads, the band attempt to take the listener on a musical journey rather than merely offer up a collection of violent snippets. Songs like “Third Depth” tries to mesh the disparaging sounds with mixed results, while bouncing between tracks like “Forgiveness is Weakness” and “Hickory Creek” keep the listener in a state of tonal whiplash. Not quite as consistent as what would come later, The Valley is still an interesting addition to the Whitechapel canon for its efforts, if not quite its delivery.

#4. Whitechapel – On the heels of a pair of monster successes, the self-titled dropped and announced an immediate bid for stardom. Gone were much of the techy nuances and songwriting that actually used three guitar players, opting instead for immediate savagery and accessibility. On the other hand, this newfound sense of immediacy allowed for an excellent sense of hooks, with their old flair boiled down to moments littering songs. Bouncy leads in “Section 8” and harmonized breakdowns in “Dead Silence” showed the band hadn’t forgotten to imbibe songs with flourish and flavor, a skill that would quickly fade out as they continued their ascent to bigger and basic things. Easily the best of the middle era of albums.

#3. This is Exile – The Certified Hood Classic, this album dropped and almost instantly defined what deathcore was supposed to be. A massive sounding album in both writing and by production values of the time, This Is Exile demonstrated fantastic growth in musical writing chops and performances. Solos rip and shred, breakdowns are creatively inserted and (mostly) avoid walk-in-place stereotypes, and each song comes with personality and pizzazz. Touring it for an anniversary with The Black Dahlia Murder showed that the compositions still hit just as hard today, reminding that deathcore as a genre can be intelligent and engaging.

#2. Kin – A fantastic sequel, Kin grasps the mood swung for by The Valley and usurps it in every way. “To the Wolves” assault with peak modern era violence, while the flow into softer moments and use of cleans are much more organically blended. Higher use of melodic leads and atmospheric layering’s allowed the beauty to shine with the brutality, and the closing title tracks fantastic power ballad transition into synth-laden classic rock styled soloing represents everything The Valley wanted to be. Much more enjoyable as a full body of music rather than a collection of tracks, Kin sees Whitechapel grasping their musical vision in the fullest sense, with an excellent display of vulnerability and pathos littered among trademark forehead-shattering groove.

#1. A New Era of Corruption – Criminally overlooked by fans, criminally neglected in setlist selections, A New Era of Corruption is one of the greatest records in the genre. Taking every skillset from This Is Exile and cranking it up to eleven, this album finds Whitechapel operating at a peak they have yet to return to since. All three guitarists are on full display in the compositions; the breakdowns hit harder, the leads are techier, and the production actually sounds like a full band. Flirting with borderline Nile atmospherics in “Breeding Violence” and full on cinematic flirtations in “Unnerving”, 2010 saw Whitechapel at the peak of their powers, experimenting and tinkering and constantly challenging themselves to write better, bigger, and meaner. A genuine benchmark for the sound of deathcore, listeners can only hope for an eventual return to this ruthless display of excellent musicianship marred with ear-gauge shattering blunt force trauma. If you haven’t listened to this album in a while, you owe it to yourself to give it a spin.

Iceberg

I’m a core kid at heart; it was one of my gateway drugs into metal. While Whitechapel lived on the periphery of my metal consumption for my formative years, the combination of 2019’s The Valley and the pandemic gave me the drive and time to dig into their entire catalogue. Since then I’ve always had a soft spot for the Knoxville sextet, and deathcore in general. There’s something about knuckle-dragging breakdowns, whiplash tempo shifts, and gurgly vocals that lights a fire in my icy core. And as one of AMG‘s official deathcore apologists, I jumped – nay, catapulted myself – at the opportunity to ride Hollow‘s rickety train to breakdown town.

#8. Mark of the Blade (2016) – Mark of the Blade marks the end of Whitechapel’s more-metal-than-deathcore era, and showcases a band running low on creative fuel. What’s put on record is the most radio-ready, sanitized version of Whitechapel, and time hasn’t been too gentle with her caresses. The proximity to Slipknot-esque nu-metal is at its most blatant, the breakdowns are toothless, and the songwriting feels like the band is spinning their saws for the third album in a row. Phil’s cleans make their first appearance in “Bring Me Home” and “Decennium,” and while they’re a harbinger of things to come, they feel sorely out of place here and don’t do much to right the ship.

#7. Our Endless War (2014) – Smack in the middle of the band’s metalcore period, OEW doesn’t feel as phoned in as Mark of the Blade, but loses some of the snarling intensity of the self-titled release. Saws are beginning to spin. Anthemic choruses are beginning to rely on the tired trope of repeating the song’s title. Breakdowns feel more at home at Knotfest than Summer Slaughter. The album has its moments, though; “Worship the Digital Age” is a bit on-the-nose but an earworm, and “Diggs Road” is a strong closer that presents one of the album’s best melodic material in its fist-raising chorus. But against what has been, and what’s to come, Our Endless War fades into the background.

#6. The Somatic Defilement (2007) – Grimy, grindy, blood-soaked, and slammy, Whitechapel’s debut showcases all the hallmarks of turn-of-the-century deathcore with the production of a greenhorn band (especially those drums). But the hunger of a young band is real; the bpm is redlined, the breakdowns are ignorant and prolific, and Phil’s vocals are at their most porcine and guttural. Tracks like “Prostatic Fluid Asphyxiation” and “Vicer Exciser” still hang with the best of them in terms of sheer stankface headbangability. While it lacks in the way of diversity, The Somatic Defilement’s charm has aged like fine hobo wine, and it steadily climbed this list the more I revisited it. In some ways this is Whitechapel at their most genuine.

#5. Whitechapel (2012) – Arguably the most transitional of all Whitechapel albums, the self-titled release sees the band with one foot in ragged deathcore roots and another in the sleek, modern production of metalcore. Tracks like “Hate Creation,” “Section 8,” and “Possibilities of an Impossible Existence” still snap necks and crush spines, but there are changes bubbling beneath. There are more breaks from the onslaught; a piano introduction here, washy acoustic guitar there, tempos dipping below breakneck speed. Overall, Whitechapel ends up being workmanlike, middle-aged deathcore, selling you exactly what it advertises.

#4. Kin (2021) – If it ain’t broke, why fix it? Whitechapel smartly took The Valley’s formula and ran with it, crafting a sequel that seamlessly moves from it’s predecessor (from a lyrical perspective – literally), while doing their best to improve on an already formidable blueprint. While Phil’s clean vocals have never sounded better, they can be too much of a good thing, with parts of the album sagging under the weight of these relaxed vocal passages (“Anticure,” “Orphan”). The bookend tracks are deserving of all-time playlist status, as is mid-album burner “To The Wolves,” but there’s a whiff of filler and a lack of brutality on Kin that keeps it from the lofty highs of The Valley. A fitting closer to a sordid tale but a solid middleweight in the band’s discography.

#3. This Is Exile (2008) – If The Somatic Defilement is the wind-up, This Is Exile is the body blow. Whitechapel burst forth in their second full-length effort – a full-throated refutation of the sophomore slump – as a true blue deathcore outfit in complete possession of their faculties. Solving the production problem of their debut makes This Is Exile a much more satisfactory listenable, and subsequently, this the best example of Whitechapel’s core sound. No envelopes are being pushed here, but the package is stuffed to the brim with quality. The one-two punch of “Father of Exile” and “This Is Exile” chug and blast their way through your brain stem, right up until they wrap their wretched mitts around your throat for the ubiquitous–if not a bit overdone here–breakdown. While “Possession” foreshadows the band’s metalcore meanderings to come, this album is so firmly cemented in early aught’s deathcore that it’s impossible to classify as anything else.

#2. A New Era of Corruption (2010) – If This Is Exile is the body blow, then A New Era of Corruption is the haymaker. ANEoC takes the deathcore template perfected on This Is Exile and pushes its brutality to new limits. The end result is an embarrassment of riches for fans of the heyday of deathcore that wields rather than relies on the breakdown. “End of Flesh” might be one of my all-time favorite Whitechapel tunes, perfectly reining in the feral instincts of earlier records while retaining their ferocity inside a clear song structure. The dissolution of the final breakdown into a distant snare drum shows an attention to detail as of yet unseen in the band’s discography. With very little fat to trim, and a tight production job that stops just short of the dreaded sheen (see the self-titled album), ANEoC is the most musically mature record Whitechapel ever put out. That is, until…

#1. The Valley (2019) – I’m not sure anyone really saw The Valley coming. Whitechapel must have, because they clearly gave shit a good shake up. Deathcore purists should stop reading here; I decree this album as nothing short of a revelation. From the dusty acoustic guitars ushering the album in and out to the much-improved clean vocals and storytelling, Whitechapel bolstered nearly every aspect of their sound. Smartly returning to his concept album roots, Phil’s deeply personal and tragic story of family gone wrong breathes new life into Whitechapel’s modus operandi and cleverly shows just how far the band has come from their razorwire days. I reserve special praise for session drummer extraordinaire Navene Koperweis, who takes an already impressive history of Whitechapel drumming and enhances it with unique, progressive instincts. The album rides the sweet spot between tension and release, with just enough old school piss ‘n vinegar marching alongside the more contemplative, wizened moments (something Kin failed to achieve). The Valley is a stunning opus from a band newly emerged from their chrysalis, a dark and wounded creature that’s transcended the deathcore label and become something wholly different.

AMG’s Official Ranking:

Possible points: 24

#8. Our Endless War (2014) 5 points

#7. The Somatic Defilement (2007) 6 points

#6. Mark of the Blade (2016) 7 points

#5. Whitechapel (2012) 13 points

#4. Kin (2021) 17 points

#3. This is Exile (2008) 18 points

#2. The Valley (2019) 20 points

#1. A New Era of Corruption (2010) 22 points

Wanna feel like a scene kid again? Check out our expert picks for your own personal sellout:

Assemble the Chariots – Unyielding Night Review

By Dear Hollow

Although Unyielding Night is the first full-length of Finland’s Assemble the Chariots, they have long felt more veteran than their peers. Releasing a string of EPs that transition from djenty deathcore to an early progenitor of blackened deathcore, Unyielding Night is as epic a debut as they come. Simultaneously conjuring a future of an interdimensional war among the stars with the age-old philosophy of heroism and plight, it is an album devoted to all things bombastic and cinematic. Soaring symphonic soundscapes, blazing riffs, and relentless percussion combine with an original story, it tells the tragedy of the cursed planet Aquilegia against a mysterious solar system-consuming hive-mind entity called the Evermurk – excelling in lore and mythology. Unyielding Night is a blackened deathcore album and a damn good one at that: one whose attack is effective and future is tantalizing.

Unyielding Night is the first installment of the act’s planned Ephemeral Trilogy, and Assemble the Chariots’ waste no time abusing breakneck tempos and soaring atmospheres. While the trend too often, in line with Lorna Shore’s influence, has been to copy-and-paste symphonic Dimmu Borgir-esque keys atop milquetoast deathcore,1 Assemble the Chariots walks the way of Ovid’s Withering and Mental Cruelty in its relentlessness. A penchant for riffs, a blazing intensity reminiscent of Fleshgod Apocalypse, a futuristic vision akin to Mechina, and songwriting that somehow manages to balance all of it are all features of this behemoth. Featuring a boundary-pushing fusion of the traditional and the futuristic, the epic and the dismal – Assemble the Chariots offers a journey that balances the visceral and the punishing.

While Assemble the Chariots does profess deathcore, don’t expect the antics of the low-and-slow brutalizers of decades past. Unyielding Night is absolutely relentless and caustic, tempo abusing and unabated in its bombast; even its more placid spoken word-focused interludes crescendos into insanity are noteworthy. A lethal combination, symphonic overlays contrast mightily with riffs galore, as opener “Departure,” “As Was Seen By Augurers,” and “Empress” move fluidly between cutthroat riffs and shifting moods of hope and devastation, while the darker “Reavers March” and “Equinox” match the more morose and dread-inducing subjects. Power metal’s more decadent theatricality makes appearances in the warbling tenor of “Emancipation” and the Kamelot-esque choirs of “Galactic Order” and “Keeper of the Stars” offer a more ghostly appeal. The most blackened moments occur in the tremolo and shrieking of “Empress” and “Galactic Order,” which add a neatly blasphemous and evocative dimension to the album. While inevitably Unyielding Night will conjure similarities to darker deathcore acts like Lorna Shore or Shadow of Intent, Assemble the Chariots simmers and shimmers with energy and fury.

Notably, for as high-brow and potentially alienating as this science fiction/fantasy story and its grand length are, Assemble the Chariots does an excellent job of balancing atmosphere with accessibility. The neck-snapping grooves of “Admorean Monolith” and “Keeper of the Stars” offer necessary tactical grounding on such a relentless attack in their relatively straightforward riff-centric rhythm-based address, while the chill-inducing shreds of “Evermurk” and “Empress” are easily climaxes of intensity, ensuring that Unyielding Night’s baseline of blazing has breath to grow and crescendo. Smartly composed, the album is structured with the natural dynamics of a plot, reflecting the intriguing lore that undergirds each movement and the moods reflecting the tragedy or hope contained therein. Furthermore, while lyrics growled or shrieked by vocalist Onni Holmström tell the story explicitly, they are partnered with the instrumentals, just as accountable for storytelling.

Subtlety is not a priority in Unyielding Night, and Assemble the Chariots offers an album whose intensity and pomp align impressively with the grandiosity of the tragedy of Aquilegia. As such, it’s long, it’s over-the-top, and it’s constantly intense, and likely too much for some listeners. Those nostalgic for the knuckle-dragging Hot Topic “djunzzz” eras of Chelsea Grin or Suicide Silence will also be disappointed. However, Unyielding Night is a powerful, energetic bombast that tastefully includes deathcore’s signature brutality without diving headlong into stagnation – nearly the exact opposite. The tragedy of the planet Aqualegia is told in a rich tapestry of color and emotion, and I eagerly await the next installments. Assemble the Chariots is something special.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: STREAM
Label: Seek & Strike Records
Websites: assemblethechariots.bandcamp.com | assemblethechariots.com | facebook.com/assemblethechariots
Releases Worldwide: July 22nd, 2024

#2024 #40 #AssembleTheChariots #BlackenedDeathMetal #BlackenedDeathcore #ChelseaGrin #Deathcore #DimmuBorgir #FinnishMetal #FleshgodApocalypse #Jul24 #Kamelot #LornaShore #Mechina #MentalCruelty #OvSulfur #OvidSWithering #Review #Reviews #SeekAndStrikeRecords #ShadowOfIntent #SuicideSilence #SymphonicDeathMetal #UnyieldingNight #WormShepherd

Drown in Sulphur – Dark Secrets of the Soul Review

By Dear Hollow

I’m gonna be an insufferable hipster about this one: I’ve been listening to blackened deathcore before Lorna Shore made it cool. Hell, I was listening to the style before Will Ramos made Lorna Shore cool. Bands like The Breathing Process, early Make Them Suffer, and Dark Sermon were all rattling off their own takes on spooky corpse-painted Hot Topic-core in the early 2010s before some Hot Topic frequenter said “ooooh” and nabbed that Watain t-shirt they have on display while manically making pig noises to emulate “To the Hellfire.” Here we meet Drown in Sulphur, an Italian blackened deathcore act, who attempts their own spin on kvlt-y brutality.

Largely the problem with much of blackened deathcore is which blackened muse they worship – it ends up being mostly Dimmu Borgir or Cradle of Filth. As such, blackened deathcore can often be distilled into the definition “deathcore with symphonic synths” much of the time. Despite their attempt at conjuring the undead frigid atmosphere of 90’s second-wave, Drown in Sulphur largely falls into this category. Sophomore effort Dark Secrets of the Soul is all about exploration of the darkness of human nature, and while cloaked in brutality and opaqueness, there is a heart of beating melody that courses through its best. Ultimately, thanks to Dark Secrets of the Soul’s blend of melody, brutality, and atmosphere, Drown in Sulphur has promise.

The Italian collective’s bread and butter is crushing deathcore a la the classic Suicide Silence and Carnifex palette, balanced by dramatic synthwork, frenetic and multifaceted guitar work, and manic blastbeats and plods. Tracks like “Buried By Snow and Hail,” “Unholy Light,” and closer “Shadow of the Dark Throne” balance these elements beautifully, melodic motifs grounding the exploration into funereal dimensions with punishing viciousness, tasteful synths, and bouncy riffage. The corpse-painted elephant in the room is breakdowns, which Drown in Sulphur utilizes as moments of punishing clarity that feel like a reprieve from the symphonic saturation beatdown. Refusing to be pegged as a one-trick pony, the more meditative melodies of “Lotus” and “Dark Secrets of the Soul” are powerful and dynamic, guiding the movements to truly punishing pinnacles – even if the clean vocals of the former are hit or miss. Widely interspersed wailing guitar solos are largely successful, capitalizing on track growth, while vocalist Chris “Christ” Lombardo offers a filth-encrusted bellow and occasional shriek that adds to the dark atmosphere – a similar tone to Cabal’s Andreas Bjulver.

The glaring issue with Dark Secrets of the Soul is like many akin to the symphonically inclined -core abusers: monotony and saturation. Like Betraying the Martyrs or Ovid’s Withering’s weaker offerings, Drown in Sulphur regularly toes the fine line between drama and excess, leaning periodically into the latter. Tracks like “Eclipse of the Sun of Eden” and “Say My Name” are all-out bombasts of symphonic saturation and monotonous deathcore brutality that simply extend for far too long, the sense of overwhelm giving way to undeniable boredom and the sound overstaying its welcome. While intro “Adveniat Regnum Tuum” sets the tone nicely with distorted vocals and dark ambiance, interlude “Vampire Communion” serves no purpose, as follow-up “Shadow of the Dark Throne” features its own slow-burning crescendo anyway. While “Lotus” and “Shadow of the Dark Throne” offer some of the best melodies and balance of the album, questionable grungy cleans add a question mark to the former while a slam-influenced slog pumps the brakes on the latter’s momentum, a moment that is blessedly brief.

I’m unsure if Drown in Sulphur quite accurately embodies the “blackened deathcore” moniker as much as the “deathcore with synths” vibe. And that’s okay, because Dark Secrets of the Soul is a rock-solid deathcore album with a melodic thread woven into its infectious energy. While it can get too much periodically, and there are enough questionable decisions made to damage the album’s longevity, it remains a fun listen with plenty of dark atmosphere and filthy pummeling to spare. The “kvlt” is more an aesthetic than a sonic choice, but Dark Secrets of the Soul is tasteful and punishing enough to give Drown in Sulphur another spin or two.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Scarlet Records
Websites: drowninsulphurofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/wedrowninsulphur
Releases Worldwide: January 12th, 2024

#2024 #30 #BetrayingTheMartyrs #BlackenedDeathcore #CABAL #Carnifex #CradleOfFilth #DarkSecretsOfTheSoul #DarkSermon #Deathcore #DimmuBorgir #DrownInSulphur #ItalianMetal #Jan24 #LornaShore #MakeThemSuffer #OvidSWithering #Review #Reviews #ScarletRecords #SuicideSilence #TheBreathingProcess