Review Summary: We have been far too lenient
I'll probably never be able to explain why I don't like Cryptopsy very much, but one thing is for certain; they don't have the most consistent of discographies. Although
Blasphemy Made Flesh is a brilliant album let down heavily by its production, everything that followed has been mediocre or worse (the latter occurring upon Mike DiSalvo joining the band).
None So Vile, furiously technical though it may be, suffers thanks to terrible vocals and an irritatingly mixed drum sound, whilst the post 2000 material has all been painfully sparse in terms of cool riffs, the key element in any death metal band's arsenal.
And, given that 2005's
Once Was Not was their worst release to date (largely thanks to a weakened, lethargic sounding Lord Worm back on the mic), it makes sense that Cryptopsy found a new frontman for their brand of all-encompassing metal fury.
The Unspoken King, though, was dreadful, and I expected as much if not worse from this. But honestly, this doesn't sound like the same band that made that record. From the moment
Two Pound Torch explodes into life there's almost too much going on, hyperactive guitar twiddling darting in between thick, funky bass slaps and smooth, fluid blast beats. It's packed full of the same catchy, infectious riffs that the band made their career off way back in the mid nineties, and it briefly seems like, for once, a band's announcement of 'return to form' might have actually been true.
Red Skinned Scapegoat continues this trend, harmonising its riffs in an almost atmospheric way and clenching it's tightly wound grooves around Flo Mournier's typical drum flaying. This is easily Mournier's most consistent performance in a decade, and even in the breakdown sections (fairly unwelcome in such an otherwise breakneck speed type of album) he manages to abuse his kit enough to be a dominant presence. The fact that everything is mixed so well here is a miracle given that so many times has the band's potential been squandered by something like murky, unintelligible grunts and obnoxious drums massively overcompensating for such disadvantages. Indeed, were it not for the over-zealous way in which the band have honed this album into a modern metal record, this could be their most fierce, consistent album to date. But there are a lot of problems with this.
Firstly, a song like
Scapegoat would be awesome were it not for the awful idea to include 'jazz' sections, something that sounds horribly gimmicky both on paper and in context with the album's chaotic whirlpool of creativity. They weren't good back on Whisper Supremacy, and on an updated, slicker version of that sound they're even more insulting. Secondly, Matt McGachy's vocals are very bad. Not as cringe-inducing as on
The Unspoken King sure, but very deathgrindy and far too gurgly (almost pig squealy) to sound as visceral as desired. Occasionally, his shrieks take over and deliver some impressive work, but the vast majority of the time he sticks to a garbled burp that gets really monotonous after a while. It makes you wish that Mournier's typically skin-cleaving screams would make an appearance, but no such luck.
On the plus side, the embarrassing Deftones-ish clean vocals are gone, as are the annoying keyboards. But even worse than these setbacks is the fact that new bassist Oliver Pinard has replaced the one constantly impressive thing about the band's music with a cheap plastic imitation, well intertwined with the spiralling swathes of guitars and crashing cymbal strikes but a terrible idea when displayed individually. Add in terrible track titles, lyrics and bland cover art and you have a recipe for an intriguing but ultimately dissatisfying listen.
