REVIEW: BEYOND CREATION - THE AURA

I try not to obsess over traffic statistics for this site even though I am a numbers junkie, caused by years of playing Strat-O-Matic Baseball with my father and perusing obscure career stats from New York Mets bench players. That being said, I can’t help but notice that my readership in Canada is lower than my readership in Germany, despite the fact that I’ve covered bands across the great North while I’ve yet to review a German release. Enter Montreal’s Beyond Creation, who I’m relying on to make my Canadian readership EXPLODE and make me as popular as maple syrup, or whatever stereotypical treat my ignorant American ass relates to Canada.

Beyond Creation’s new album from Season of Mist, The Aura, is a fresh pulse of time-warping progressive death metal that should probably be traded person to person through a media format that hasn’t been invented yet, like transferrable brain chips or spinal download disks, which slide between vertebrae and fuse music directly with your neural system. Beyond Creation’s brand of next century’s technical death displays virtuosity without distracting from the songs, allowing ample room for exploration while the structures keep each track contained in its own definite universe. The music on The Aura is elastic and borderline aquatic in nature, swimming naturally from extra-terrestrial djent to finger-blurring death metal riffing to what I like to call “progressive space jams.” No, they do not feature the most dynamic basketball players of the 90s and WB cartoons, but they do have passages of radar-pinging guitars and a bass tone that sounds like the bellow of some intergalactic worm-whale while  resourceful drumming slyly twists beneath. But these are only brief escapes from Beyond Creation’s sinister pummel and mathematic trickery, brought to life through vastly impressive performances from the entire band. From Dominic 'Forest' Lapointe’s nimble bass work (which calls forth memories of Roger Patterson’s best work in Atheist) to Simon Girard’s on-point vocal attack to the Kevin Chartré/Girard tag-team guitar assault, this is top notch progressive death metal executed with spit, sweat, and whatever fluid will replace blood a thousand years in the future.

The only song that felt uninspired was “Omnipresent,” which shifts from mid-tempo chugging to a bastardized “Snakes For the Divine” riff. This is the only song that doesn’t hold up under multiple listens, as The Aura rips through uncharted territory by achieving oxymoronic herky-jerky groove. Considering how many tempo shifts alter the path of each song the catchy nature of the music is, as Wallace Shawn would say, inconceivable. The instrumental track “Chromatic Horizon” rampages beautifully in my headphones while the title track manipulates my brain into head nodding motions, growing more violent as the song progresses. The album's centerpiece, “The Deported,” winds through outer space like one of those intergalactic worm-whales I mentioned earlier, surprisingly elusive for such a powerful beast. It’s rare to find death metal so cunning, so difficult to trap into a corner and identify before it bites your throat out.

Decibel Magazine revealed that Beyond Creation will be playing several dates of the magazine’s tour, opening for the three-headed killing machine that will be Cannibal Corpse, Napalm Death, and Immolation. If you’re able to catch them on the May 21st - June 2nd leg of the tour DO IT. I need you to report to me if they’re actually playing instruments light-beamed here from a distant planet populated with tentacled metalheads, because considering some of the rhythms and sounds on this album, that’s about all that makes sense.

Seek more Beyond Creation data here:  http://www.season-of-mist.com/bands/beyond-creation

The Aura releases in the United States on May 14th. Order this madness here:  http://e-shop.season-of-mist.com/en/items/beyond-creation/the-aura/cd/34199

REVIEW: DOPETHRONE - III

Dopethrone’s third release, III, may not drop your jaw with album title creativity, but would you rather that time go into an album moniker or conjuring up a nasty batch of inebriated riffs heavier than a frozen mammoth? III is the exact number of times I lost control during my preliminary listen in my office and started headbanging at my desk. My co-workers are conditioned to ignore this by now.

I’ll admit I haven’t visited Montréal since the Expos were still in town, but if this music is any indication the city has become the feeding ground for some renegade demon who smokes cursed hash out of the skulls of god-fearing Christians. Dopethrone must rehearse their impossibly infectious sludge in a prehistoric cave somewhere barely out of the demon’s reach, war-painted with the black resin scraped from the shotgun barrels they resourcefully use as lethal bongs. They almost named this album “Hooked,” and for good reason. Not only is ”Hooked,” the opening track, one of the very best stoner songs I’ve ever heard, but this album will also have you twitching in withdrawal if significant times passes without Vince Houde’s riffs oozing into your ear holes.

Dopethrone’s brand of muddy, sinister doom laced with bluesy grooves rooted in denim-clad classic rock has never been more focused. These songs swagger and stomp with monstrous confidence, drooling beer and exhaling purple smoke in stride. While Houd’s vocals may send those unaccustomed to the harshest snarls scrambling for sanctuary, I delight in their putridity. It sounds like he pours moonshine on his breakfast cereal, sweetens it with basement-cooked meth, then washes it down with a pint of rusty razors. I feel like every hellish creature from the Spawn animated series should have been voiced by this dude. This music will grow a beard on a newborn baby.

There is also a recognizable sense of joy on this album; from the tongue-in-cheek audio samples to the grin-inducing song title “Devil’s Dandruff,” this is a band that wants you in on the joke. That doesn’t mean the songwriting lacks discipline, because each track earns its length (especially the colossal ten minute cut “Reverb Deep”). Just sometimes it takes a band like Dopethrone to remind us that some of the best heavy music is created by friends enjoying a six-pack or five, writing songs to amuse themselves and each other. Doom does not necessarily need to include gloom. Dopethrone’s III will make you happily groove to the sound of your own soul being ripped from your gaping pie-hole.

I must also state that as a completely DIY entity I have a huge amount of respect for Dopethrone. They will be at The Acheron in Brooklyn on March 30th and are well-worth the venture into Bushwick, where the sidewalks are perpetually littered with broken glass and dog shit. Hell, if there’s a way to smoke whatever you bring in on the bottom of your boots I’m sure these guys can teach you a trick or two.

Listen to Dopethrone immediately and purchase this amazing album for $6.66 at:  http://dopethrone.bandcamp.com/

And become their favoritest Facebook follower over at:  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Dopethrone/201732593171312