Review Summary: The best Darkest Hour in 17 years.
I’ll preface this review by saying a simple and hardly jarring statement-Darkest Hour have not changed. Their brand of seamlessly mended Gothenburg-style melodic death metal, biting thrash metal energy and overall modern metalcore
aesthetic are a craft that they have meticulously fine-tuned with varying levels of each element being the fun, crunchy, off-the-wall bedrock that lays down the foundation of each record. This means that, admittedly, the quality of each record tends to hinge on just how much the hooks
hook and how much vigor is breathed into each riff, every snare pop. Everything revolves around energy, and for that energy to be present ya gotta have a little
fun, and let’s just say they’ve been spending more than a few hours playing Skee-Ball at Chuck-E-Cheese. It’s the same motif that dominated
Godless Prophets but with a little more zest, a little more
variety.
Let’s start with the t/t, an absolute behemoth of grandeur that kicks off with a wicked harmonic build that comes to a thundering collapse under the pressure of some weighty, scathing riffs and snarls. In fact, it can be said that this may be the most fiery and fierce that DH vocals have ever sounded, with the usual phlegmy screams giving way to something much harsher and more visceral. Perhaps even more voracious is the all-consuming wave of city-razing rage that is “Societal Bile”, in which there is no consoling beginning or sweet, almost loving respite that tends to dot most DH songs. Think “Full Imperial Collapse” but faster. Much, much faster. It rips and it tears, pulverizes and punches, crushes and castrates (forget that last course of action, music is much less enjoyable with a missing member). In varying levels this is how the whole of the album operates, with sick sweeps and gallops galore interjected by an occasional acoustic piece or slow-burning set of guitar harmonies. Then, when this riff-city ride has almost come to a halt, it instead trawls forth into more lush territories, as if almost to reflect on the fun that is now a fresh memory. “Goddess of War, Give Me Something to Die For” is one of the most serene and surprisingly balanced tracks DH has ever put forth, being somber, contemplative, and resplendent with love and life all in multiple strokes co-existing upon one beautiful palette. It is the accumulation of all things they’ve done right in the last 12 years, and for that it brings a stupid grin across my previously stank-faced maw that only tracks like “A Thousand Words to Say” or “Tunguska” have ever managed.
This is it. This is what makes the band so damn great in their finest moments, even if they are now an unchanging primordial titan of melodic metalcore that is beyond comfortable resting on their laurels. Their impressive ability to dissipate all rage and anguish through sheer passion and tasty riffs that can bring solace to even the most livid of two-stepping camo-shorts wearing societal rejects (the camo shorts are in the wash so as for now I am exempt from this category) is something that is rarely matched within modern metalcore. Like the most talented of watchmakers, they hone in upon fine-tuning every minutia of detail a little more avidly each time, finally crafting something that, for the first time in some while, feels like a genuine project of joy and love that has come to magnificent fruition. This is the best Darkest Hour album in 17 years. Jam it.
