Review Summary: Cryptopsy should finally be let off the hook.
When Crytopsy’s 2012 self-titled album was being touted as a return to form for the band, fans were understandably skeptical. But to the band’s credit, the album proved to be a successful redemption and ended up being their best-regarded release in nearly a decade and a half. Despite keeping vocalist Matt McGachy, who mostly retains his deathcore-styled vocals, the band returned triumphantly to their hallmark sound. This is likely by no coincidence in part by the return of guitarist Jon Levasseur, who was responsible for much of the songwriting on past Cryptopsy albums but left the band in 2004. Levasseur is on the record as stating that “…the idea for this new album was to do one last record touching every era of the band… so the fans could at least have one last real Cryptopsy album and the most important thing: [The Unspoken King] not being the last entry in the book of the band's history…” It’s hard to shake the interpretation that Levasseur seems to take a good deal of credit for the band’s 2012 album. If this was in fact true, it was unfortunate when fans were met with the news that shortly after that album’s release, Levasseur would leave Cryptopsy once more. Nonetheless, the band was left with a solid template so as to keep things on the right track, and The Book of Suffering - Tome 1 (hereinafter referred to as The Book) is the test if Cryptopsy still has it in them to release a successful album without Levasseur’s input. The pleasure is in not just announcing that The Book is a successful album, but that it actually manages to trump the band’s 2012 offering and can in some ways be seen as their best album since None So Vile.
As already noted briefly, The Book is actually a step up from Cryptopsy. There are several reasons for why this is so. Firstly, The Book keeps far away from being another foray into deathcore and is even less so than Cryptopsy was, as vocalist Matt McGachy gives his most varied performance with the band yet. His style far less consists of monotone squealing than it did on the previous album, and though there are definite nods to his deathcore origins, this time he’s far more dynamic and is not afraid to experiment with more traditional death metal growls. His approach is also more rhythmic and percussive than on previous albums; he’s more interested in making note of and responding to what the instruments are doing, rather than merely singing on top of the music in a more oblivious nature. This shows that McGachy is finally starting to come into his own as member of the band, and in summation, his performance shows true maturity.
Back again is Cryptopsy’s absolutely frenetic style of technical death metal as well as the creativity and adeptness that defines the band’s controlled chaos. It’s even difficult to realize that Levasseur is gone at all, as both the guitar work and songwriting show almost no signs of his absence. A welcomed addition for this album is its take on breakdowns. While the majority of death metal bands opt not to employ breakdowns often, those familiar with the band will know that Cryptopsy have never hesitated to use them (one of None So Vile’s celebrated highlights is its off kilter breakdowns). It’s exciting to note that The Book returns with these beloved Cryptopsy breakdowns, which are far more akin to those found on None So Vile than those found on The Unspoken King. This means that they have all the positive traits one would come to expect: the bass guitar does its own thing and is prominent in the mix, they’re refreshing refrains from the surrounding chaos, and they aren’t generic. But most of all, they serve phenomenally to give each track its own identity. For instance, when recalling the track “Detritus (The One They Kept),” one is likely to instantly identify the song by the ominous, crushingly heavy breakdown found in its middle section. In the technical death metal genre, a frequent problem is that it can be hard to distinguish between tracks on a given album, as there isn’t often much variation when it comes to speed or melody. The fact that The Book addresses this with its breakdowns is a true highlight and is even a throwback to None So Vile. Besides the breakdowns, the surrounding material (which is mostly defined by non-stop technicality and aggression) is thoroughly well written. But despite the music’s unpalatable nature, there are plenty of enjoyable melodies to be found buried beneath the wall of sound. This is in contrast with Cryptopsy, which contained some memorable riffs, but not many. The fast sections on The Book don’t feel merely like placeholders with the primary purpose of extending the runtime of songs--the listeners likely will not feel that they have to bite through them to get to the more exciting parts, as the majority of the riffs feel like they’re there simply because they’re good. There is even a lyrical highlight to be found on The Book, which is the first time this can be said for a Cryptopsy in many years. “The Knife, The Head, And What Remains” references the notorious 2008 murder of Tim Mclean that took place on a Winnipeg Greyhound bus, but tells the story from the point of view of the psychotic killer. While the poeticism isn’t quite comparable to the works of Lord Worm, at the very least the track is creative in the way it deals with its subject matter.
While one might feel like they crave more material, the truth is that there is a major benefit to this album being an EP hardly longer than fifteen minutes: the runtime is absolutely perfect for this type of material. The songs are quite dense with fairly unconventional structures consisting of little repetition, and the music itself is a virtually constant blast of sound, so fifteen minutes of material means that the listener is unlikely to experience any type of fatigue. Along with this, perhaps the fact that Cryptopsy didn’t need to fill a full album with material is the reason that The Book consists of four incredibly solid tracks with no obvious weak links. One is bound to gravitate to one or two favourites, but nothing on the album lulls or feels like it was added as an afterthought. The only downside to the album’s short duration is the fact that it’s unlikely for anyone to come away with profound feelings for the experience--The Book is simply over too quickly for there to be a true lasting impact. Regardless, fifteen minutes of pure quality material should always be welcomed over thirty minutes of hit-and-miss material.
The Book should ultimately put all worries to rest over whether or not Cryptopsy are still capable of outputting quality music. Despite taking the form of a very short EP, it is the band’s highest quality release since 1996’s None So Vile. The band finally seems to have settled on a modern identity for itself, and the controversial presence of vocalist Matt McGachy is not likely to remain controversial, as he seems far more comfortable in the band than he was even in 2012. The Book is a both a brilliant evolution for Cryptopsy and a worthy addition to the their legacy.
