Alice in Chains - Alice in Chains (1995)

After nearly a year on hiatus, Alice in Chains released their self-titled LP in the fall of 1995. Coming off a length of time that saw the band deal with a cancelled tour, side projects, and a lead singer struggling with heroin addiction, the recordings here symbolize a band that wasn't quite holding itself together. Much like the three-legged dog in the album's cover art, the music here feels at times like there is something missing. In all the time I've had to listen to this album over the years, I've never really been able to appreciate it outside of a few moments here and there. 

To start, the album's overall production is much more... sludgy then on previous works. The album sounds like it was recorded in somebody's garage, lacking the scope of sound present on Dirt, or even Facelift. While the more intimate recording gives it a certain quality that I'm sure the band was eager to experiment with, I have never felt like it had an edge over the metallic quality of their earlier work. With the band's trademark vocal harmonies, it sounds like the band went the route of layering Layne Staley's own voice over himself, as opposed to having Staley and Jerry Cantrell's distinct voices compliment each other; the result is a kind of acidic drone in some of the vocal lines that, once again, don't do much for me. Case in point, the verses in "Again" and "Brush Away"; both songs seem to remove Cantrell from the equation. Again, it's probably part of the aesthetic the band was going for here, but it's not winning any accolades from me. 

That's not to say the album is all bad, and I certainly don't mean to come down on it as hard as it seems I am. The blending of acoustic and electric elements on some of the songs is a welcome step for the band; "Heaven Beside You" and "Over Now" are two of the more memorable tracks. The former devolves into a discordant grind in the second half of the song that provides an effective shift in tone, while "Over Now" is an excellent closer to entire album. Both songs recall the stellar "Brother" and "Got Me Wrong" from Sap, which is a plus. 

The album is not afraid to get heavy in some parts; things get particularly crushing during the aptly-named "Sludge Factory". Again, the vocals here don't quite do it for me 100% of the time, but they are unsettling and provide a great dressing for the fuzzy distortion of Cantrell's riffs. But, what can I say about the last three minutes of the seven(!!!)-minute song that amounts to nothing but guitar-dickery and Staley repeating the word "guilt" over and over? Puzzling. "Frogs" is another song in a similar vein as "Sludge Factory", with a pained and mournful chorus; "Why's it have to be this way?" Staley asks, to a desolate soundscape that offers little answers. It suffers the same problems as "Sludge Factory" though, in that it just crawls along for far too long, like algae growing along the surface of a pond. 

The rest of the album is an amalgamation of the band's works up to that point, with songs like "Grind" and "Again" providing the mid-tempo chug that wouldn't be out of place on Dirt, and the aforementioned acoustic-laden tracks naturally evolve from Sap and Jar of Flies. But for all of its value as a culmination of what came before, I don't feel like AiC quite found their footing here. Perhaps it's reflective of the time during which it was written, but Alice in Chains ultimately comes off as sounding like a band struggling to come to terms with the very real personal issues plaguing its members, and I can respect the fact that others may find something to appreciate there. It would have been interesting to see where things went after this in regards to new material, but as history has shown it was not meant to be (not with Staley at the helm, at least); this proved to be the last new studio material from the band for fourteen years. 

This is not an album I find myself revisiting very often, and in doing so for this review, it becomes apparent why.

Verdict: Indifference [6.5/10] (Hey, I know I made the same mistakes)

http://www.aliceinchains.com/home/

Anhedonist - Netherwards (2012)

Generally, I'm one of the first people to scoff at the trends prevalent in metal music, and I don't think anyone could deny that we've been inundated with scores if not hundreds of bands channeling forth the cavernous and crushing contemplations that bands like Autopsy, Incantation, Asphyx and Immolation once wrought upon the deaf ears of a largely unappreciative metal audience in the earlier 90s. Sure, I've enjoyed and lauded a goodly number of these younger acts, but when will the flood cease? However, there's also a flip side to this tenebrous tenor, in that there will be artists which emerge from such squamous horde aesthetics and evolve a sound with such a consistent, fluid depth that all those beholden to the metamorphosis are enriched by extension.

For myself, Seattle's Anhedonist is proving to be one such mutant, their full length debut Netherwards a mournful monolith of subterranean strength, invoking the death/doom drudgery of its influences and then fashioning it into an irresistible, atmospheric emission that will have fans of Disma, Sonne Adam, Funebrarum and other contemporary titans of the form clutching their private bits in wanton cognizance. At four tracks and 40 minutes, I was mildly apprehensive that the compositions would come off swollen, endlessly repetitive and numbing, a trait that many bands of this niche seem to mistake for artistic merit, but Anhedonist do an extremely good job of creating an air of momentum and progression through each of the more substantial (i.e. 9-15 minutes) pieces. Sure, the emotional direction of the music is down, down, DOWN, yet surprises await in the album's murky environment that create a real payoff for the descent.

The tremulous tone of the guitar is so dense it feels like having a caul of soil and muck wrapped around your ears and face, and where the low muted grooves and squeals bludgeon along to the cadence of the drummer, as in the slower 'verse' sequence of "Saturnine", you get an impression of titans surging restlessly through the bowels of the earth. Tempos are varied much alike their forebears Incantation, so the album will shift from faster, bottom grinding sequences of mud caked intensity to slower, death/doom passages where solemn melodies will alight upon the thick undertow like funereal mantras. Even spookier are the cleaner guitar sequences, like the haunted intro to "Inherent Opprobrium" or the closing seconds of "Saturnine" where unnerving ambiance and distant bells roll in to welcome the dust of its end.

Granted, the bass is never quite a factor beyond its atmospheric ability to creep along as an anchor to the rhythm guitar, but the drums provide just enough fills to provide a warlike, tribal sediment; and vocalist V.B. binds it all in place with a charismatic guttural redolent of Chris Reifert's formative timbre circa Severed Survival or Mental Funeral. All told, the production to Netherwards is massive, like a gaping chasm beneath the listener's feet from which nightmares boil, and the breadth and variation to the songwriting provides for one of the better efforts of this niche in recent memory. At no point did I feel like the music was some dialed-in approximation lurking in the shadows of its influences, but a fresh, Faustian effluvium that sold its soul to the past in order to crush the life out of the present; morbidly improving upon their 2010 demo The Drear. A great record. Suffer it well.

Verdict: Epic Win [9/10]

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Anhedonist/224249847597688