D.M's Five Greatest Albums of the Decade

First off, let me stage a minor protest in that I do not think 2019 represents the end of the decade.  That should be 2020, and for two reasons – first, because in counting sets of ten, you do not start with zero and end at nine (unless you’re a software engineer,) and second, because when the calendar was unified and the division between BC and AD established, there was no year zero (Nine Inch Nails album aside.)

Okay, now that I’ve logged my protest, allow me to actually get to the point.  When Chris C and I first started discussing listing our best albums of the decade, he wanted to confine it to three.  I immediately loved the exclusivity of his idea, that it was lazy to list the top fifty or twenty or even ten.  Let’s really see who cut muster and made an impact over the past ten years.

There was only one problem.  I couldn’t keep it at three.  I pleaded, nay begged to have Chris go to five.  He saw my plight and relented.  Here we are.

A brief primer – the usual rules apply – original studio albums only.  No covers albums, no live albums, no compilations.

The cut down process was excruciating.  It took me two full months to decide on the top 5.  I fully admit, it’s the top 5 of the decade...for now.  Ask me next month, it could be almost entirely different.  As such, I would like to pause for a moment to recognize the albums that didn’t quite make the cut.  Consider these the honorable mentions in alphabetical order:

Blood Ceremony – Lord of Misrule
Cancer Bats – Dead Set on Living
Children of Bodom – Relentless, Reckless Forever
Destrage – Are You Kidding Me? No.
Graveyard – Hisingen Blues
Midnight Ghost Train – Cypress Ave
Red Eleven – Round II
Shawn James and the Shapeshifters – The Gospel According to Shawn James and the Shapeshifters

And now, without further reservation, the top 5 albums of the (sort of) decade:

5  Cancer Bats – The Spark That Moves

Possible that there’s some recency bias here, but this is an excellent, easily digested and highly listenable album.  It’s just so damn catchy, and that’s something you don’t often say about a hardcore album.  Liam Cormier’s vocals are like when you go see a band and they invite their local friend up on stage – the guy can’t really sing, but he’s giving it his all and his authentic performance is eminently enjoyable.  That’s not to say that Cormier can’t sing.  His throaty rumble during “Bed of Nails” might just be his best performance ever.

4   The Sword – Warp Riders

This is bittersweet.  Remember when we thought The Sword was going to take over the world?  I’m gonna move on before I start remembering what happened after Apocryphon.

3   Clutch – Psychic Warfare

The cliché rings true – don’t call it a comeback.  I fully admit that I had all but left Clutch for dead after the blasé disappointment of Strange Cousins From the West.  Earth Rocker was a nice album, but seemed like an agonal gasp in the face of the downturn that had preceded it.  And then…this.  A masterpiece.  A bold statement, a near-concept album that it set up brilliantly.  The fact that the record begins with an investigator asking for a statement makes the winding narrative of Neil Fallon’s lyrics even more gloriously absurd.

2   Destrage – A Means to No End

We’ve talked about it a lot over the years; the quest for something different.  To find a sound that is new and unique and yet appealing is incredibly difficult in the modern era.  Destrage has captured something.  There’s a frenetic violence to their music, but woven through it all are huge, hook-laden choruses and spots of fragile beauty.  To be able to command this many raw elements and have them make sense is a level of songwriting most aren’t capable of.  Destrage did it three times this decade, and this is the best of them.

1   Turisas – Turisas2013

There are only two bad things you can say about this album.  One, the title is dumb.  Two, we haven’t heard from Turisas since.  Nevertheless, this album remains the gold standard for the kind of transcendent genre-blending that metal is and should be capable of.  It’s a magical ride, the kind of experience that can only be described in absurd terms.  For example, when people ask me to define what this album sounds like, I say “imagine if Andrew Lloyd Webber had an angsty son who wrote metal.”  Turisas also released the outstanding Stand Up and Fight in 2011, and this album completely buried it.  No one did it better this decade.

Album Review: The Sword - "High Country"

What…the…hell?  The Sword’s “High Country” was one of the most anticipated records of 2015, with all manner of exaggerated expectations being flown in a hundred directions to and fro; strong references to the band’s previous catalog predicted unprecedented greatness.

Yet for all that, it’s hard to imagine anyone expected this.

For “High Country,” The Sword has completely shifted gears, taking an abrupt turn away from their groovy metal roots and accomplishments to try their hand at a highly experimental record that dabbles in seven or eight heretofore untouched genres.  As soon as the electro-boogie of instrumental opener “Unicorn Farm” begins, the fog of expectation evaporates and gives way almost to a feeling of disbelief – was this a joke open?  The answer to that ends up mixed.

“Empty Temples” gets the listener back on more familiar footing, as The Sword puts beats to pavement in a style that is perceptibly classic rock.  The undulations of rhythm and timing make the song feel out of time; a pleasantly performed anachronism from a previous musical age.  Vocalist and ideaman J.D Cronise leaves his usual metal wail behind and composes for himself a vocal palette that is more relaxed and easy-going in an attempt to fit the band’s new sound better.  The general thrust of this revolutionary idiomatic upheaval continues through the title track and into “Tears Like Diamonds,” the last of which sounds most like a Sword song.  It’s here that Cronise reprises his usual vocals and gives us a listenable song that would have sounded at home on 2012’s “Apocryphon” with a little more depth in the bass department.

This is where “High Country” picks up a little – “Mist & Shadow” is the album’s first track that offers us a glimpse into the possibilities of The Sword’s experiment; a heady combination of deep, throaty bass and meticulous but simple melodies that combine to generate a naturally powerful and punchy tune.

There again though, the album changes, and we go back to heavy electronic influence for “Seriously Mysterious,” a song that bounces along with artificial beats and no particular melody.  Cronise teams up with fellow Texan and Austin scene darling Jazz Mills to sing in that flat monotone that never quite worked for the early 90s alternative scene and combines it with a bopping cadence that’s reminiscent of the time before electronic music matured and it was safe to admit you liked it.  For all that though, there’s something about this cut that works, whether it’s the oddball inflection of the pure oddity of it all in contrast to what we know of The Sword.

The album’s back half hits and misses (more on this in a minute,) but undoubtedly the jewel of the B-side is “Ghost Eye,” a variably thudding and articulate song with a huge singalong chorus that similar to “Mist & Shadow” captures the imagination of what The Sword was, is and can be.

Nevertheless, “High Country” feels unfulfilling.  And before somebody says it, it has nothing to do with the new style.  No one here is going to fault as accomplished an artist as The Sword for branching out and doing everything in their power to not be stagnant – there are plenty of bands who could learn a lot from the confidence it takes to make “High Country.”

Rather, the album is unfulfilling because it lacks in bite.  Comparisons have abounded declaring that The Sword has made the move from Black Sabbath to Led Zeppelin, but the key to Led Zeppelin’s music was the unbridled vitality that permeated all of their best compositions.  Sure, Zep had some slow tunes, but they were always juxtaposed by the sheer power of Page, Jones and Bonham.  The Sword in this instance is more like Thin Lizzy or similar bands of that second-tier ilk – talented yes, but lacking in conviction and edge.  There’s little punch here, just a lot of songs that are fine for what they are, but can’t or don’t turn heads and demand rapt attention.

Additionally, when you purchase “High Country,” there’s a big ol’ sticker on the front that openly boasts “15 new songs!” and that’s only sort of true.  The record has four instrumental tunes on it, all under three minutes, which seem like unexplored ideas.  “Suffer No Fools” in particular is like listening to J Dilla’s “Donuts”: there’s a worthy idea here, but it’s never extrapolated to its conclusion, leaving the listener to wonder what could have been.  Continuing the point, “Turned to Dust” ends almost in mid-thought, the abrupt ending coming as a jarring juxtaposition with the song that follows.

“High Country” is one of those rare instances where the name on the front of the record grants some measure of benefit of the doubt.  It took a long time for “Apocryphon” to really open up for me, so maybe it’s the same for this album.

That said, it’s hard to really go to bat for “High Country” when the album has some obvious and glaring flaws that can’t be covered up with greatness from the surrounding tracks.  The Sword makes a laudable effort to do something new and it’s not a failure, but it’s not a rousing success, either.