Review Summary: The Sword We Fall On
Primal Instinct.
Throwback to December 2022 in a small basement in Birmingham Alabama. The southern United States and the human ethos were decimated by Covid 19, leaving only the most indulgent and antisocial behaviors to fester in the virus's isolating wake. Everyone I knew changed, and hell even I had changed. Battered touring bands were no exception and by the time Chicago’s Meth. returned to my neck of the woods, it was clear that the pandemic had not spared them of its weight. Gone were the frenetic theatrics of their debut. The band faced the audience while they played, they ditched their white collared shirts, and omitted any indulgent passages of white noise or silence. Their new set was cacophonously loud and consistent, each song bleeding into the next almost haphazardly as vocalist Sebastion Alvarez poured beer on himself and self harmed. I could barely hear him scream, and each song’s atonal pulse kept me transfixed against my natural preservation to reject its despair. It was like I was in the middle of a storm, due to perish long before it ended. Eventually the drums of “Inbred” relented and me and my friends were set free to enjoy the night. Driving away shell shocked, we acknowledged the merits of what we just witnessed while simultaneously acknowledging how rotten the new music Meth. presented made us feel. With time my friends shrugged off the experience, however until February 2nd I remained entranced by what I witnessed that night. Only now with the release of “SHAME” do I understand why.
Meth.’s sophomore album “SHAME”, while being emblematic of something I’ve literally experienced, is another record in a long list of auditory masochism I’ve joyously subjected myself to my entire life. I grew up listening to Today Is The Day, Converge, Daughters, and all other manner of self loathing artists to the point of angst ridden normalcy. The louder the better, and the more misanthropic, the more relatable. This is a testament to how world view can spiral into itself, and how for whatever reason we can agonize ourselves into being subservient to the stolen hurt of this world. I didn’t just enjoy the music of the artist’s above but I felt like I walked with them to the point of my own detriment; that my identity itself was synonymous with pain. This coincided with pitiful demoralization and a host of many parasocial relationships in my personal life. It was a self fulfilling prophecy. Every poor impulsive choice I made for myself, socially or otherwise, compounded into a cycle I could not escape without help. Over the pandemic, I read about Meth.’s vocalist’s struggle with substance abuse and mental health. A full blown alcoholic and subsequent narcissist at the time, this further peaked my growing interest in their next release.
Enter “SHAME”. A modern noise rock classic and the perfect representation of the brain in active addiction.
From the second the album begins, we’re plunged into the primitive roar of opener “Doubt” introducing us to the tom laden rhythmic backbone of “SHAME” that effectively sews each track together. Over the dirge, Sebastian shrieks of feeling disconnected from the world and its processes. The guitars strum one indiscernible note over and over again only undergoing minor pitch shifts as the drums up the stakes, representing an ever present existential discomfort that cannot be drowned out. Eventually “Doubt” gives way to “Compulsion”, A sour atonal circus beat down that is the most evocative of Meth.’s older material on the album. Shrieks drape the flurry of blast beats as the conscious concedes to the subconscious ego and desire to self medicate. By this point the album’s lightning in a bottle production is laid bare, setting it apart from “M.O.R.L”, opting for something more muddy and disorienting. The whole album sounds like you’re in a room blindfolded while being yelled at and there's too many voices yelling at you to be able to discern what they’re saying, which aesthetically aids the album’s narrative and production wise curiously is almost evocative of shoegaze. Any lesser mixing/layering and this album would sound like total ***. The next track “Blush” represents the downward spiral that is abusing substances. Deviating from a high strung Hair metal esque riff, the song implodes on itself, getting slower and more ominous everytime it tries to reanimate itself until by its conclusion it is unrecognizable. Each instrumental refrain is broken up by steady tom fills referencing the pre-established ominous undercurrent of the album. The record is then divided in half by subdued centerpiece “Give In”, That features the only moment of clarity within the 7 songs. This clarity I believe is used to show the bizarre bliss that comes with leaning into one’s vices or giving up, as does the song’s sinister yet joyous mantra “It’s growing inside”. The listener is allowed a brief silent reprieve before being disoriented by the most overtly black metal song Meth. have ever written and the most manic cut of the album, “Cruelty”. The atonality of Death and Black metal are skillfully woven into “SHAME” not as plagiarism but as an extra accent to help diversify the unrelenting heaviness Meth. have fully committed to. “Cruelty” implodes on itself with the weight of a man that has fully submitted to the consequences of his darkest vices and the disconnect that comes with that submission spiraling out into the title track and album climax. “Shame” begins industrial and composed as Sebastian delivers a sermon of disappointment, stylistically evoking “Haunted Horses” or late stage “Daughters” before being absorbed by a flurry of escalating noise and needle-like guitars. The lyrics are irredeemable and flagellate the listener as the vocalist bemoans being reduced to his character defects and the results of his cruel subconscious indifference. “Shame” only dissipates a second before “Blackmail” erupts, the album’s closer and the most impressively dynamic song on the record. Here Meth. have entirely transformed into a menacing “Altarage'' adjacent death metal band skillfully weaving between tremolo laced slams into violent bouts of black metal. “Blackmail” represents subconscious addiction’s weaponization of shame, and what prompts an addict to take the next drink. The track flirts with a crescendo before dropping back into the dead rhythmic dull of doubt, successfully completing the ouroboros of the album. If queued correctly, “SHAME” spirals into itself again and again.
For how impressively dark “SHAME” is, it is a step up from Meth.’s previous work and begs a seriously unique question. Although depicted as hopelessly debilitating, is shame ( in the context of addiction) the certain mark of being too far gone? As someone who is now in active recovery, I can say I think it can go either way. Shame can be a conduit for change, like it was for me. By expressing remorse or the desire to be helped, you can place yourself in more positive cycles. If you Isolate because of shame, you’ll further poison yourself with your own compulsions. I know this review is pretty personal and for a 5/5 I feel like it’d have to be. Although not for everyone, Meth.’s new album is really raw and If you need something like it, it's there.
