Review Summary: Death [ya mums ya dad] rock album of the year.
I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but there’s always a slew of albums released later in the year that stand ready to raise a middle finger to those pesky “best of” end of year lists. Sure, these albums might not always make the cut but damn, it’s worth finding out if these last-minute records have what it takes. In this case we have Intice’s
Ceraphim and the greatest death rock entry the year has seen. Woah! Slow down. What about those vocals though?
Yeah,
Ceraphim has a dynamic that shifts between flute, dramatic builds and Thy Catafalque-esque climbing rhythms. Even the album’s introduction, “The Void” is equal parts sensual build and colloquial what the fu
ck-isms before seamlessly transitioning into “Information Hazard” and your less than great, run of the mill pub shouter. I know what you’re thinking. I just called this the greatest death rock album of the year. This is because Intice has somehow brought a humble, home-grown garage aesthetic together with the technicality of a fully functioning technical death metal band—complete with trash-punk rhythms and [dare I say it], clean vocals. What?
No really, it’s bizarre how well clean vocals act as a dichotomy to harsher soundscapes. The balance of it all just manages to tickle all the right spaces, even better when it’s at the right time. “Information Hazard” is the right kind of mixed bag; a daze of jaunting riffs and call to arena rock vocals. “Simulation Theory” is chaotic, circus fare gone distorted punk. The twists and turns here are unreal. That’s all part of the charm because there’s so much to unpack here. Deeper cuts like, “Reflection/Translation” is the album’s breathing piece. Gone for the moment is the outright metal instrumentation and gruff exterior. Instead, piano tinkering and nostalgia bleed the entire track, taking everything away for a moment, before returning once again to their own interesting landscapes. Perhaps the biggest takeaway here is how Intice take their sound and provide variation with unyielding ease. These aren’t a few chords being played in degree, rather
Ceraphim slaps a basket of riffs into a whirlwind of traded vocals into songs that grow because of it.
Deeper cuts like “Weeping” and “Wailing” take the speed and pomp of a neoclassical guitarist wrapped up in their own self-importance. Winding leads compliment the switch between the vocal styles, shouts and all. The latter of these two tracks somehow lifts things a notch. A show of string dexterity and enough instrumental prowess to ensure necks everywhere are getting sore. Largely, this is an album that
needs repeated listens to fully absorb everything that’s going on here. This album isn’t a
grower in a conventional sense. No, it is what it is, but it takes time to hear that riff, to recognise you really like the unconventional and unpolished vocals.
Ceraphim’s power doesn’t come in a gimmick, rather it comes when a listener figures out this isn’t a gimmick. Intice are onto something here, their crux might just be that they don’t actually know what that
something is. Is it the jovial neoclassical stuff? The avant-fu
ckery that would put Thy Catafalque’s wet-nurse to shame? From this vantage point, it’s all that and the potential they’ve unlocked just by putting
Ceraphim together. Intince is enticing, and the best is yet to come.
