Review Summary: Icelandic band We Made God borrow from a number of genres and influences to create their own, unique sound. And with it, an absorbing musical experience well worth a listen, despite some imperfections.
Post-metal is somewhat of a conundrum of a genre. By its very design, it largely abandons the ferocity that makes metal – well, metal – while still retaining the core components of its parent genre. At its best, post-metal can be a breathtaking experience for the ears, transporting the listener to a dark, desolate place that somehow remains full of wonder. And at its worst, it can be an absolute bore. We Made God’s debut album, As We Sleep, fell somewhere in between, and while it had more than enough riveting moments to warrant a listen, the band largely fell short of their undeniable potential. Fortunately, their sophomore album, It’s Getting Colder, is a vast improvement for the most part.
When I first stumbled upon We Made God, the band was described to me as “Deftones meets Sigur Rós.” As a fan of both of these bands (Deftones in particular), I was intrigued by this description, and while I wouldn’t say it’s 100% accurate, it’s easy to see how such a summary emerged. Although the two aforementioned bands fall on opposite ends of the musical spectrum, they do share a common trait: An emphasis on atmosphere within their music; something which a lot of other acts neglect entirely. We Made God aren’t yet up to the incredibly high standard set by these bands, though certainly possess this same principle.
It’s Getting Colder opens with the soaring, yet slow-burning The Start is a Finish Line, which gradually builds upon itself as it progresses. The first half of this song, before the vocals kick in, would feel perfectly at home on any number of instrumental post-rock bands’ catalogues, though by the end of their second track, the band quickly establish their capacity for hard-hitting discordance. From this point, the bulk of this album bears stark, anguished undertones that remain present even during its most uplifting passages. By no means, however, is It’s Getting Colder is without its highlights. These Hours, Minutes and Seconds is an undeniably stand-out track, masterfully crafted and beckoning for another listen the moment it ends.
The Deftones influence here is undeniable, particularly when it comes to the vocals. Frontman Maggi echoes the rustling vulnerability of Chino Moreno’s more subdued singing style, along with Chino’s penchant for elongated melodies and the capacity to utilise his voice as though it were instrument, rather than simply a vessel to paste poetry over the top of instrumentals. While Deftones are equally hard to pigeonhole, most would concede them to fall under the “alternative metal” umbrella term, as opposed to the post-metal genre which is frequently stamped on We Made God (though I suppose some individual Deftones songs – ie. Battle-Axe, Beware, Deathblow – could certainly be classified as post-metal). The Sigur Rós comparison is far less obvious, and I suspect it boils down to the two bands hailing from the same homeland of Iceland. While the cold vastness of their shared surroundings undoubtedly works its way into the two acts’ music, quite a number of post-rock acts could be substituted in lieu of Sigur Rós and the “Deftones meets X” description would still be valid.
That’s not to say this band is merely parroting their Deftones influence, though; the harsher vocals in this album exude a level of angst-ridden frustration that would fit in comfortably with almost any hardcore act around today. In fact, quite a few traces of post-hardcore can be found within this album; almost to the same extent of this band’s post-rock and post-metal stylings (damn, there are a lot of genres that begin with “post” – a bit of a ridiculous trend given that, in all cases, the original genre is still thriving, but I won’t sully this review with unrelated rants about the syntax of prefixes). It serves to add an erratic element of fervent volatility to the mix; leaving the listener with a certain sense of unease, even when the music is at its most serene. These beguilingly tranquil moments of beauty end up feeling like the eye of the storm, no matter how drawn out they turn out to be.
Unfortunately, not everything We Made God attempt here works. There are some spoken word segments and samples that fail to invoke any of the intended emotions, and wind up feeling forced and hollow on an album that’s otherwise full of passionate vehemence (though thankfully, these moments don’t take up too much of the overall runtime). It’s Getting Colder also suffers from an inimical lack of structure, with interludes inserted seemingly at random, and an inconsistent variance in individual track length – something which can be a striking virtue when executed correctly, but We Made God have failed to make this work to their advantage here. It’s unfortunate, as the album opens beautifully, beckoning the listener upon a soaring, unearthly journey, yet the ending feels as though this journey pitters out at an arbitrary point, without a worthy crescendo or coda to accompany it.
Overall, however, the hit-to-miss ratio here skews in We Made God’s favour. The band have improved upon their debut album in every conceivable way, and with the level of progression shown in the mere three years between these releases, I am left feeling more than confident that We Made God will continue to refine their sound with their following musical endeavors. This remarkable Icelandic outfit still have a lot of untapped potential, though by no means should that comment undermine the remarkable achievements they have made with this album, particularly as the band seems to be carving out an indescribable niche of their own. It’s Getting Colder may not be perfect, but it’s still 41 minutes of extraordinary music that deserves your consideration.
