Review Summary: The Height of Catharsis
Say what you will about nu-metal. It can be an outlet for trauma and a catalyst for unashamed establishment of identity—Spineshank’s
The Height of Callousness is the perfect case study of this phenomenon.
Catharsis rests on some sort of an igniting moment. Spineshank has those in spades; this project is violent. There’s no “Got The Life” here, nor any jokey 80s covers. Holding a spot between the technicality of Fear Factory and the unhinged rage of Slipknot, Spineshank blend industrial/electronica with heavier-than-not nu-metal. All elements fire at full cylinders for the majority of the album. Opener “Asthmatic” is the perfect example—it packs a bulldozing riff, panicked drum beats, thudding bass, throat-shredding screams, and schizophrenic electronics. Spineshank not only bring all this together, but they do it with great care.
“Asthmatic” is not the only example of Spineshank’s admirable ferocity. The title track blends nu-metal bounce with a full-on death metal breakdown, later shifting to groove metal swagger. “(Can’t Be) Fixed” & “Negative Space” boast rocking riffs and harsh howls, while the latter showcases a atmospheric chorus. Spineshank know how to hit hard, finish you off, and get the *** out before you even know what hit you.
This type of efficient pummeling is possible via GGGarth Richardson’s production. There’s a lot of cool stuff in here; the split vocals on the chorus of “New Disease”, the “whomp” noise on “(Can’t Be) Fixed”, and the drum/synth break in “Play God”. “Cyanide 2600” is a full on drum n’ bass romp, forsaking organic drums for programmed ones, placing the harsh vocals and percussion bashing on full display.
Pummeling isn’t all that’s on hand here, though. Singles “Synthetic” and “New Disease” display the band’s penchant for solid, melodic songwriting. The former wears more of a punk influence on its sleeve, with stop-start parts and a much faster tempo. The latter finds the guitars focusing more on structuring a trippy rhythm than full-on power chord bashing. Both songs have groovy breakdowns which lend a danceable, pop edge to the proceedings. These songs also allow Santos to showcase his clean range and the slightest bit of rapping. His screams are clearly his best talent—his clean vocals aren’t bad, but he is neither Burton C Bell nor Corey Taylor. There are also melodic choruses packed on the latter half of the album.
That latter half is where
The Height of Callousness stalls. The run from “Play God” through “Seamless” is by no means bad, but the songs all follow roughly the same formula; heavy in the verses, melodic in the chorus, heavy in the bridge, etc. These songs may strike you if you’re in the right mood for them, but they lack the immediacy that permeates the first half of the disc.
That stalling effect does not carry over to the lyrics. There’s a place for over-the-top angst; people trying to work through their *** don’t often need it expressed in the most eloquent format. The title track rages against condescending holier-than-thous (“Take my ***ing conscience from me/Try and save me from myself/Turn my ***ing thoughts against me/Now my ways will be dissolved/*** integrity”). “Synthetic” deals with loss of identity inside an abusive interlocutor (“All this time I thought I was myself/And I thought I never could become you/Wrong”). These topics may not be of the same weight as international politics, but they are nevertheless important.
Speaking of importance, this album didn’t ever seem to get it’s due. It isn’t perfect, much like others of the same time. However, it is an effort from a band with something to say and a relatively unique way to say it. That is more than good enough.
