Review Summary: Once more, with feeling!
There are few bands in existence today that have the same track record as Between The Buried And Me. From humble beginnings as a spastic death metal band, they refined and refined again their sound until quickly hitting what is considered multiple highlight albums in “Alaska” and “Colors.” Their next effort, “The Great Misdirect,” found them leaning a bit more heavily into the progressive rock realm and pulling back a little bit on the death metal. From there, the band wandered around the meadows of prog metal, never quite putting out the same thing twice but maintaining their high-quality brand. At some point, however, a fissure formed in the BTBAM fan base: some wished for the heavier metal of the past while others embraced the shift in direction towards prog rock influence. The band found themselves trying (and mostly succeeding) to eat their cake and have it too by carefully crafting records that forayed into new levels of strangeness while keeping some of the “djuns” and riffs around for the metal fans. And now, after experimenting over and over again with this formula, BTBAM find themselves... nowhere. And everywhere? Well, somewhere. Somewhere familiar.
Immediately found on “The Blue Nowhere” is two things. First, a band that took a lot of influence from their previous work, “Colors II”—the fingerprints are everywhere, from the squeaky-clean production to the instrument tones themselves. Second, a band that is obviously
still having fun, and indeed it can be directly felt in the music itself. “Things We Tell Ourselves In The Dark,” a certainly interesting choice for an album opener, immediately comes in with a shimmery, playful guitar riff. The chorus is catchy as hell, and the funky breakdown in the latter half of the track—anchored by bass virtuoso Dan Briggs—almost compels some sort of dance-along as layer upon layer of riff is added on top. Then, with no warning against the whiplash, “God Terror” interjects itself with a sinister electronic feel and distorted, raspy vocals. And this is just the first two tracks! This sort of chaotic push-pull happens all over the record, and newcomers to the band might feel simply dizzy by the time they hit the thirty minute mark. Veteran listeners of new-age BTBAM albums will feel more at home but never quite comfortable; whether that is a good or bad thing is left up to individual taste. The album is a swirling carnival of riffs and silliness, so buckle up and let the ride take you where it will.
To tell the truth, the exercise of vaulting from idea to idea does often actually work in BTBAM's favor. A great example is the stank-face-inducing riff in earlier sections of “Psychomanteum” morphing into the striding choruses and following instrumentals. It's excellent prog metal writing because it feels so smooth and natural, despite the injected quirk here and there. Drops in intensity down to reserved sections reveal the softer, melodic side of the band, and these are welcome pauses in the volatile storm of weirdness, rushing lines, and polyrhythmic chugs. And in traditional fashion, the outro track provides a pretty wonderful bow that ties everything together—complete with a doggone musical recapitulation! It's all well and good, but the palpable irony here in all the progressive-ness is that BTBAM is sometimes at their best when they find themselves in the rut of a song—a reliable smooth road after the bumpy swerving between one thought and the next. From a lofty view, the formula is somewhat predictable at this point: build up the suspense with strangeness and then release the tension with cathartic simplicity.
However, not unlike a circus sideshow, sometimes the veneer of flashiness and wonder wears off—like when it comes to light that “The Amazing Bat Boy” is just a carnie with makeup and fake wings. By the time the bluesy riff in “Absent Thereafter” had reared its head for the umpteenth time, the fun was long gone before the roller coaster train was close to rolling into the station. Questionable choices, such as the mere existence of “Mirador Uncoil,” act more as a confusing brake check than a thrilling hill to roll over. In some tracks, the boys just hold onto an idea for too long and wave it in front of the face over and over again, inducing an eye roll or two (no, Tommy, we don't need another creepy piano bit here). Other times, strange-feeling riffs and one-off instrument effects get interjected for only mere seconds before being whisked away and replaced by something else. All of this showmanship is thrown around to-and-fro as hectically as possible, as if to say, “See? Isn't this fun? Isn't this quirky?” Yes, BTBAM, we get it: you love to drink deep from the fountain of zaniness in your older age, and sometimes it is fun! But overdoing it and projectile vomiting it on your friends is not their idea of a good time—and really shouldn't be yours, either.
After such a long career, where is BTBAM at personally? With the loss of Dustie Waring due to a scandal that won't be detailed here, there does seems to be an almost intangible something missing from the music itself. Despite the missing member, Paul Waggoner continues to be a riff machine, filling both roles of rhythm and lead flawlessly as expected. Behind the drum kit, Blake Richardson dazzles with frantic, complex drum patterns that twist upon themselves again and again. The highlight here, of course, is Dan Briggs—bringing a bass toolbox stuffed full of effects and grooves that roil in the background behind all the other musical lines. Unfortunately, this leaves Tommy Rogers bringing up the rear a little bit: his once-aggressive growls sound thinner and more tired this time around, which is a shame considering his clean vocals and harmonies are right on point. The addition of different people bringing some well-needed screams here and there is a good choice to support the heavier sections of some of the tracks.
When the ride finally ends and all is said and done, don't be mistaken by all the eyebrow-raising on display in this review. “The Blue Nowhere” is
definitely a great album. It's fun and entertaining in many of the right ways and is solidly BTBAM down to its very core. There are so many highlights to be heard throughout the entire runtime; all of the band members are masters of their respective crafts and their talents are on full display. The question, however, is as follows: is it a great BTBAM album? Does it measure up against a long career of creativity and a more recent, very similar-sounding throwback record? Well, that probably depends on which side of the fissure you're on—and whether or not you like the cake they're baking these days. But prog metal enthusiasts on either side of the fan club should feel encouraged to sit down and have a slice and enjoy the latest BTBAM offering, even if you aren't sure if you want to go back for seconds.
