Holy crap, this almost got past me. Full disclosure, and at the risk of complaining, it’s hard to maintain a full life with all the associated occupations, responsibilities and relationships, and still keep abreast with all the movements in an ever-expanding and de-focused musical landscape. Sometimes things fall through the cracks for a while.
Released just about a month ago, we come to Spill Your Guts’ new album “The Wrath it Takes,” the newest effort in blackened hardcore from a band hailing from just about every corner of the world.
Teamed up with the Scott Middleton, so recently departed from the Cancer Bats, Spill Your Guts offers up a refreshingly honest take on hardcore…through the lens of classic punk rock?
It sounds practically impossible, particularly with the additional adjective ‘blackened’ in the descriptor, but we have culturally moved far past the constraints of such restrictive genre definitions. Just hit play on album opener “Die, Unified,” and you’ll see all the requisite elements performed in abundance. And then, right there in the middle, as part of the hook, a melodic riff that sounds instantly familiar and reminds of the heady days of the Clash or Ramones, albeit better produced. It’s just a small handful of notes, but it unlocks everything that happens before and after.
And then we come to “Reaper’s Toll,” and we’ve forgotten some of the pomp and circumstance of opening an album, but with good cause, as it makes way for the joyous smashing and banging of a mosh pit revival accompanied by a deep-seated groove that is difficult to shake.
We’ve only gone through two cuts at this point, and already “The Wrath It Takes” demonstrates versatility within its sphere. The next two cuts offer variations on the theme – “Lift the Curse” could, frankly, be a Cancer Bats song, and then “Prey for Death” (which begins exactly the same as The Toadies’ “Heel,” just a touch faster, and I can’t break the connection in my head,) gives us what we were all expecting, a larger-than-life outro complete with easy scream-able lyrics that would make for good fist-pumping concert fodder.
What follows after that is more of the same, and I say that for efficiency’s sake, not as a discredit to the album. If you’ve found something to like on the record to this point, you’ll enjoy the rest. And if you haven’t found any aspect that appeals to your fancy, then it’s time to move on.
There is only one real pitfall on “The Wrath It Takes,” which is the song just about dead in the middle. “Blood Soaked Wolves.” It’s the only song on the album that weighs in at more than three and a half minutes, which is fine, but by comparison to the rest of the record, this song is a screamy dirge, and it just plain carries on too long. The point was made at the three minute mark, and after that we’re flagellating a deceased equine.
But don’t let that minor criticism dissuade you from what otherwise is a fantastic experience. Pick your associated genre: punk, hardcore, black metal, whatever – they could all use a shot in the arm, and Spill Your Guts, through their unique fusion of elements, offers just that. It won’t be for everybody, as the performance is abrasive by its nature, but if you’re patient with it, there’s a lot to enjoy.
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