Review Summary: The sound of the swamp
It’s curious how the phrase ‘heavy metal’ was once a catch-all term for the more abrasive rock styles. In more recent times, the singular term ‘metal’ has been employed in its’ place, and ‘heavy metal’ now commonly refers to the original giants of the genre from the 80’s. It could be argued that ‘metal’ is simply a shortened version of the classic phrase, but the genre itself is not the only one to have a heavy sound. ‘Heavy’ is a term that can be applied to a wide variety of acts; ambient bands such as Swans, classic hard rock act Blue Cheer, and even UK electronic act Burial could all be classified in this way. In recent times though, although the tone of certain new age metal bands may retain the frantic riffing and amped up volumes, many are often devoid of that illusive factor that makes the music sonically ‘heavy’, in the truest sense. Missing is the bone-rattling din of a truly pummeling sound- the crushing, troubling vibrations that defined the early greats of the genre. Enter Acid Bath; a band so heavy that even their muddled production cannot contain their level of gritty conviction. Their sound is one of dismal, teeth-chattering clarity; melodic in riffs, utterly dissonant in tone, and completely devastating in every conceivable way- even on the slower, more considered tracks.
So, this album is heavy. Very heavy. An amalgamation of classic heavy metal riffs, droning sludge/ doom and dirty southern rock- with more than a hint of gothic attitude about it- Acid Bath were certainly a unique act. Although they only released two full-length albums over the course of their career as a band, Acid Bath has garnered great acclaim for these releases and amassed a fairly impressive cult following- especially for a band from the backwoods of Louisiana. The presentation of
When The Kite String Pops is immediately morbid, utilizing the famous clown painting of one John Wayne Gacy and a horror-lite typeface to announce their band/ album title on the cover. Once the album is heard, however, this cover becomes synonymous with the music itself- a twisted iconography that is perfectly suited to the uncomfortably macabre music style. Afforded a rough, glassy production that complements the musicality unbelievably well, it becomes almost possible to observe to the hypothetical grinding gears forming the musical sounds; a relentless aural assault constructed through slowly considered riffing rather than the constant breakneck pacing typical of the genre.
The sludgy vibrancy of tracks such as ‘Tranquilized’, ‘Cassie Eats Cockroaches’ and ‘Cheap Vodka’ are incredibly well written, showcasing innovative Black Sabbath-esque riffing and percussion that has an impressive depth to the sound. Vocally, the predominant style used by Dax Riggs is a piercing shriek, with the occasional half-spoken, half-growled interlude. It’s schizophrenic in its implementation, and delightfully demented, yet utterly hypnotic. Each composition takes on a new form and structural order, never once lapsing to the typical verse-chorus-verse-chorus standard. The ascending bridge of ‘Dope Fiend’, the stop-start motif of ‘Dr. Seuss Is Dead’, the disturbing, low chugging of ‘God Machine’- all organic developments within the sound, rather than gimmicky tidbits. Consistently sonically oppressive yet never overwhelming, a wonderfully fragile balance of style and substance is struck. On the opposing side, slower tracks such as ‘Finger Paintings Of The Insane’, ‘The Bones Of Baby Dolls’ and ‘Scream Of The Butterfly’ are beautifully bitter, warped compositions than have the appeal of a lullaby, were they to be sung by a serial killer. Unnerving in both their subject matter and execution, all tracks are masterpieces of subdued terror and manic sentiment.
The journey of
When The Kite String Pops is one that will not soon be forgotten. Opening like a bat out of hell and with a track order designed to burrow its way under the listener’s skin as soon as possible, many tracks require multiple listens to fully appreciate the dynamic layering of the instrumentation and tone. The subject matter covered surely does not make for easy listening, but the quality of the music on display here exposes a viscous clarity and intelligence that goes far beyond mere shock value. Like the best art, it requires a little digging and patience to uncover all its secrets- but this is a quest every fan of metal music owes to themselves at least once. Music conjuring an atmosphere as dark as the content itself is both splendidly weird and the perfect accompaniment to the tales being told; a marriage of both elements that is as snug a match as could possibly be. A dramatic masterpiece, intimidatingly frank and violating, yet compacted into a thoroughly entertaining voyage of psychotic glee and wanton carnage.
