Review Summary: A potentially unique proposition of barnstorming metal built from one man's unrelenting dedication to the life of hard parse.
Ὁπλίτης (Hoplites) is a one-man black metal project from Zhejiang, China, established by sole trooper Liu Zhenyang to explore his apparent fascination with the Ancient Greek language. Yes, pals and friends – the
language. Not the mythology, not the history, not the traditions of debate, literature, logic and performance that shaped the lion's share of Western culture: we're talking syntax, phonetics, pragmatics, and altogether bringing a dead language back from the grave. Zhenyang bases his claims to fluency and grammatical precision in his exposure to the likes of Euripides and Sappho in their originals, and I am reliably informed that Euripides, at least, is indeed a tangible presence behind his pen strokes. By the looks of it, the chap needed an outlet for his polyglot necromancy and just so happened to love his metal – voila, Hoplites.
For the vast majority of his audience, this linguistic background will likely have no bearing on the conveniently kickass brand of off-kilter black metal Zhenyang churns out here, blistering riffage, whiplash rhythms and all.
*αραμαινομ *νη (Paramainomenē) takes no prisoners and demands little introduction: the music here is each of Heavy, Fast and Intense as you've come to know and love them, structurally contorted yet so bullishly kinetic that it slices through its own Gordian knot whenever the occasion demands. There's an overt leaning towards mathcore in the erratic rhythms and abrupt shifts in pace here, but Zhenyang is never averse to complement this with more traditional pyrotechnics: when it hits its stride, as in "Συμμαινόμεναι Διονύσῳ Ἐλευθ*ριῳ" (#4)'s propulsive midsection, the album displays such palatable grooves and melodic sensibilities that it surprises me not one bit to read that Zhenyang grew up on Trivium. However, he's more adventurous than this might suggest – throughout the dissonant freakouts in that same song's opening minutes, you're just as likely to be reminded of jazz-syphoning maestros Imperial Triumphant and those dogwhistling French posers that let Mikko Aspa stooge for them. It's testament to Zhenyang's considerable talents that he navigates such a broad pool of inclinations with such idiosyncratic flair – for all Hoplites will remind you of a dozen disparate things you've previously enjoyed from elsewhere in the metal universe, you won't be mistaking them for anyone else.
So all-in-all, a blackened mathcore belter of just the right pacing and density to trade moment-to-moment thrills against substantive songwriting, and no further reason to spotlight the artist's epimusical peculiarities? Well, uh,
sure, if you like – but peer a little closer, and the record's composition and production both go hand-in-glove with the more fastidious qualities of Zhenyang's bookish profile, hubristic undertones and all. For perspective, we're looking at someone who claims to have turned his back on musical collaboration wholesale after his covers band requested he play a gig the night before an exam*, shades Mayhem for grammar mistakes in their Latin lyrics, and identifies with Steven Wilson for having been born into the wrong generation.
There's a sense of perfectionism here, which you'll also catch in the album's watertight musicianship and production quality (the latter of which is replete with so much clarity that you can practically flush your horoscope through it), but I also get a sense of the same insistent independence that can just as easily pivot to indulgence. At points, the record's polish and hyperfocus boil down to airlessness – the Imperial Triumphant-esque dissonant jazz freakout in the backend of "Ἡ τῶν λυσσημάτων ἄγγελος" (Track #3) is belaboured yet well short of the grit and friction required to sustain such things – while at others, Zhenyang's creative autonomy gets the better of him: the rather unfortunate closer is a hodgepodge between directionless folk plod and half-baked metal blowout – it pans out as a disjointed stew would never have survived the collaborative process in its current form.
By and large, though, the man's instincts are on point and his burgeoning energy levels provide sufficient bombast for his haymakers to land. Case in point, the synthesiser sugar-attack synths that erupt midway through "Συμμιαινόμεναι Διονύσῳ Ἐλευθ*ριῳ" (Track #5) are incongruous as anything with the rest of
Paramainomenē's palette (one finds Children of Bodom listed alongside Trivium as a formative influence), but it – and perhaps this track specifically – establishes such a flair for the spectacular that it pays off as one of the record's most entertaining flourishes. Zhenyang thrives on the unexpected time and again, from the slinky doom-jazz that kicks off "*αραδειγματιζομ*νη μουσική" (Track #2) to the frenetic finale of the same (are
those the burst beats you've been looking for?) – he may not entirely escape the classic solo project foibles of complete creative control, but his ability to furnish ear-catching thunder from the most abrupt derailments proves key to what is ultimately a highly impressive and deliciously vitalising album. Indulge away, rogue archon.
*though he does seem to perform with a full band live – check out this
alongside relative newcomers Cut, and veteran Asian black metal acts Sigh and Zuriaake: https://www.bilibili.com/video/BV1Xh4y1P753
