DISCLAIMER: The album is fully in Polish and doesn’t have an official English-language version. All cited lyrics I translated myself.
“Deathcore Legion” was a funny case. Originally an unused song from 2002, later released on 2009’s compilation
Korzenie, it also gave name to a concert tour during which Frontside shared stage with Drown My Day, My Autumn and Annotations of an Autopsy. Ironically, of all those bands, the headliner had arguably the least in common with actual deathcore and the song in question was a nu metal one. There was hardly anything to complain about, though. Frontside have been known to draw influence from various genres, from hardcore to melodeath, which resulted in them creating an impressive, heavy as balls back catalogue. Their turn towards hard rock in early 2010s was polarizing to say the least. It doesn’t take much effort to see the band’s sense of humour in that, but many fans were left with bitter taste in their mouths. Released in 2018,
Zmartwychwstanie was a return to metal served with a healthy dose of self-awareness. The title, meaning “Resurrection” in Polish, was the perfect choice as it highlighted the revival of the band’s heavy form and tied nicely with the previous record’s name,
Prawie martwy (“Almost Dead”). The artwork, depicting a blooddrenched figure in a white shirt, not only catered to metalcore aesthetics but also referenced the iconic
Twilight of the Gods from fourteen years prior. Instead of casually harking back to their classic sound though, Frontside emptied it of lyrical clichés, genre blending and much of the melodic aspect for the sake of unabated brutality.
The band’s established formula is presented in an updated form. Toma puts the kit to good use with frequently changing drum patterns and loads of engaging fills, but his input is also more extreme this time. While the focus is still on the grooves, they are often contrasted by breakneck tempos pulled straight out of deathcore. The guitar work is more tremolo-based and dissonant, and Daron contributes an unusually high number of solos (the title track alone contains
three of them). These are still melodic and elaborate, if barely memorable; that burden falls on the diverse set of riffs. The instrumental section does a solid job overall, all the while Auman screams his guts out. On his final release with Frontside, he made use of all his range, aided by a fair amount of layering; shrieks and death growls especially appear in excessive amounts. Although his singing is pleasant and played a key role in some of the band’s most memorable songs like “Naszym przeznaczeniem jest płonąć” and “Martwe serca” in the past, its absence befits this record’s more aggressive direction.
However, there is a significant design flaw to be observed. Similar song structures and the removal of various stylistic influences that once characterized Frontside’s brand of metalcore leaves
Zmartwychwstanie quite homogenous. Half of the tracks are more or less “okay”; the true offenders are the ending cuts, “Iluminacja” and “Bóg cię nie ocali”, as they spend all of their substantial runtimes plodding without any standout moments for the listener to latch onto. The closer in particular is ridiculously bloated at almost six minutes of length, over one of which is just the intro riff repeated
ad nauseam. Fortunately, there’s still plenty of great cuts on the album to leave a positive impression.
We need guilt, humiliation, burning pain / to understand the meaning of existence, once more, we hear in the opening track. “Zmartwychwstanie” is a structural colossus, starting with an elaborate intro that effectively maintains tension for good two minutes and ending with a lengthy solo. Its core, however, comprises fast, furious verses and a simple, infectious chorus in which Auman calls for spiritual rebirth of humankind. The verse cited might not immediately point to that, but it has its place in the band’s longstanding deliberation about the duality of man. This line of thought later fuels “Jak światłość i mrok”, the most melodic track here. Its structure is simple, but works due to the combination of memorable drum beats, fun short licks in the verses and prevalent guitar harmonies. The solo is a compositional success as it shifts from aggressive thrashing to a slow, epic mode in its second third, and seamlessly transitions into the final chorus in a superbly poignant manner. While at it, I have to commend the album’s lyrics which, per the genre standards, are very good. “Jak światłość i mrok” proves that with its evocative depiction of internal strife, especially in the second verse:
Like a father letting his son off to war / Like a mother punishing her beloved child / Like blind Themis carrying out a judgement / I question my every step. However, there are times when they suffer from overt shock value. “Poznaj swoich wrogów” features an insatiably furious chorus:
Know your enemies and keep them close / Finish them off without mercy, slaughter them. This might seem like nothing special in English, but the two final words are actually sickening.
Wyrżnij ich, as it figures in Polish, is a sentence so inherently gruesome and dehumanizing that it’s hard to listen to. Pity, because from the musical perspective, “Poznaj swoich wrogów” is an excellent, blastbeat-loaded track with an absolutely punishing breakdown.
Other standout moments include “Martwy jak Ty”, drawing from OG melodic metalcore with some classic-style riffage and drum dynamics, as well as the single “Krew, ogień, śmierć”. It’s a fairly standard piece for this era of Frontside that repeats its chorus probably too often, but it’s far from detrimental because of how freaking infectious that section is. What’s not standard is the incorporation of nu metal in “Kolejna niewinna ofiara”, the only deviation from the album’s general stylistic mold. And, contrary to what may seem, it’s not a cheap shot. The spoken word verses paint a bleak picture of youth devolving into pathology and suicide (
With no helping hand, no hope, no home / Brought out are razorblades, knives, pills and a rope), aided by a barrage of pulsating riffs. This throwback to the band’s past experiments with nu metal comes with the slightest bit of kitsch, but it’s utterly eclipsed by the groove and sheer emotion in Auman’s voice. The latter peaks with the distraught shouts in the bridge:
There’s no one here, and no one is going to hear them.
Despite the eight years and a change of vocalists separating them, if you’ve heard the band’s latest album
Nemesis, you should know what to expect of
Zmartwychwstanie. The follow up carries on in a similarly brutal vein, with strong deathcore influence and dissonant guitar leads; sometimes cheesier, sometimes more refined. While this record might wind up collapsing under its own weight, it accomplishes its goals in the end. The punch is immense, social issues are tackled well and, in face of Auman’s departure from the band three years later, this makes for a great sendoff.
Zmartwychwstanie isn’t perfect, but offers something else: pure, continuous anger.
