Review Summary: JUNZ and repeat
Anyone who has ever known a legitimate misanthrope will tell you it is not a pleasant thing. Now, edgy kids playing misanthropes? That’s even worse, because kids tend to be attention seekers- not out of a sense of vanity, but rather a potent yearning for attention and approval. The people who interact on a regular basis with such an individual will tell you that the motif gets old very fast, and becomes irritating, trite, and above all else, predictable. On paper, it would seem that the best outlet to channel such a personality trait would be music, and what better music to convey angst and hatred than the devil’s favourite genre? An unholy mashup of sorts between Oceano and Meshuggah (although neither of these comparisons is an indicator of quality), The Acacia Strain have enjoyed modest success as one of the angriest metal bands around, with browbeating lyrics, earthquake breakdowns and technically proficient, if idiosyncratic, solos. The issue now though, has become a recurrent one; it is the same style, every time. Like a rollercoaster ride, the first time is fantastic and new, the second time is better than the first, the third time, the twists and turns start to become anticipated, and then expected. Progressively predictable. Every subsequent ride merely grinds the experience further into the muck, no matter how exciting it was the first time. Sadly, even though they’ve come fairly close to the line before,
Gravebloom may be the album that tips TAS from repetitive to tedious.
From their beginnings in the early 2000s, the sole thing The Acacia Strain can be credited with is their consistency. For better or worse, the sound has remained the same for over 15 years, with this musical momentum rewarding them with a wide fanbase and slots at huge festivals, all over the globe. There have been occasions where the band has toyed with alternate methods of spewing their bile;
Coma Witch displayed a slightly more brooding edge, giving the release a more hardcore stylistic. However, earlier album
Wormwood was more rooted in the metalcore sound of incessantly simplistic breakdowns and chunky riffs. Ultimately, though, this was tantamount to saying the same message in a slightly different accent.
Gravebloom has a very slightly more eclectic sound and comes across as more of an incremental release than a full-blown new LP. Chunky riffs are plentiful, solos are scattered throughout and a number of the breakdowns are pleasantly violent. ‘Bitter Pill’ especially has a galloping motif to its’ verses, and the thickness of the sound meshes well with vocalist Vincent Bennett’s signature low tone. ‘Model Citizen’ does a similar thing, but with more of a djent-influenced style. Similarly, title track ‘Gravebloom’s off-kilter time signature and alarm SFX during the bridge are pleasing additions. When the instrumentals are slowed down and the sound takes on a sludgy vibe is still a battering listening experience, the rhythmic cues still an admirably maintained facet inamongst the chaos of the sound.
The contrast to this is the pretense of tracks such as ‘Abyssal Depths’, Walled City’, and ‘Calloused Mouth’, which tread water with such earnestness that they will be almost nostalgic for long-time listeners of the band. The softer-spoken segments, particularly in the latter song, come across as silly and do little to grab the listener’s attention. Although it is clearly an important emotion to the genre, anger is also a very one-dimensional trait, and after eight albums, the dimension is looking very flat indeed. It is not that the formula has lost relevance, but rather it has become very stale. ‘Dark Harvest’ is a shining example of this, as it is actually a decent song- but the level of aggression on display here should not be this underwhelming. It is simply an exercise in the band’s standard fare; the same exercise they’ve been running since 2002. The strength of the solos that pepper the release, or the admittedly hard-hitting percussive breaks are now just too predictable to still be effective. Even the ridiculous 9-minute long outro track ‘Cold Gloom’ gets lost in its own plodding banality, missing the simplistic rinse-and-repeat effectiveness of
Wormwood’s ‘Tactical Nuke’.
In it’s bile-fuelled, black as coal heart, Gravebloom means well, and it does what it does with a level of proficiency that is a positive thing in a genre famous for its’ gung-ho, testosterone-fuelled simplistic edginess. Previous enjoyment of the band is not a requirement here, simply a love for crash-and-burn metallic rage. Unfortunately, this is all The Acacia Strain offer; there is no texture to their music- no diversity. The moments that distinguish one track from another are fun and engaging enough, but that is precisely the issue with
Gravebloom; it is an album of moments, not songs. An impressive verse riff here, a fun bridge section there, a diverting breakdown over there….. this is how the album is remembered, almost being memorable because it is so unmemorable. The Acacia Strain painted themselves into a corner a good few years ago- with
Gravebloom it feels like they have finally completed the corner, with nothing to show for it but paint-tainted clothes. Despite their comically aggressive bearing, the band has always been taken with a pinch of salt by their fans, but now, the constant retracing of old ground has rendered them a shadow of the heavy-hitters who first emerged on the scene. Yes, some of the songs are better-written, the musicality is pleasingly heavy, lyrical content is suitably bleak and the production is better than it has ever been, but the experience is not satisfying. It leaves you yearning for a little depth. A little stimulation. A little ***ing variety.
