To say that I am a fan of death metal would be the biggest understatement since the wife of the man who invented the world’s largest donut proclaimed ‘that’s, a bit big don’t you think dear?’. I love it. From every corner of the world to every perverse, bastardised and convoluted sub-genre there’s something for me to drool over like a whimpering bulldog (without the pseudo-patriotic ties to right-wing symbolism on this particular slab of xenophobic rock).
When the sonic abuse overlords imparted a string of death metal records for me to sink my teeth into to quench my seemingly endless thirst and really kick 2018 into gear, leaving 2017 swaying drunkenly in the rear-view mirror like a narrowly avoided shabby new-years sexual conquest, I was ecstatic to say the least. This brings me to Fallen Utopia, originating from Austria some point in the mid two-thousands and yet to grace this realm with an album until now, with only a handful of EP and demo releases to the name previously.
Fallen Utopia proclaim themselves as ‘modern death metal’, which is either a total mis-gauging of their target audience or a spastic plea not to be bundled in with other death metal, as though ‘old-school death metal’ has become a naughty word since I last checked, and all the other kids in the playground have run to the teacher with the same tear filled horrified eyes as if I’d called them all cunts or something.
As far as I’m concerned, Fallen Utopia subscribe to old-school death metal train of thought, but with modern production (which is just as well because some nineties death metal was recorded in a toaster in Stockholm with the mics made out of semen and string placed in a different post-code to guitar cab). It’s groove-laden riff-driven heavy-ass stuff in the vein of Obituary, while the more melodic end of the sound resonates with At the Gates (because it’s not an album review unless At the Gates are name-dropped at least three times, it’s like an unwritten rule of metal journalism or something; either that or I’m a petulant fanboy that has to spew the name like an incontinent hedgehog sprays undigested mealworm all over your recently varnished decking.
Much of the album’s strength lies in the balance of its influences. The ass-blistering riffing of ‘Macrocosm’ would not pack as hard a punch without the contrast of the piano that precedes it, or the melodic leads that perpetuate the latter half of the track. The same goes for the riffing in ‘Omnivore’ and the tapping that overlays it. The whole album is an exercise in duality and on the basis it handles itself pretty well. Another notch in the bands wall would be the tightness of the songwriting, and a tendency to work a particular idea pretty hard, but not so hard it becomes boring, before a slick transition into something else. There’s no excess fat and it’s all trimmed into a nice, tight fitting corset that shows just enough cleavage to keep everyone interested but not so much that everything falls out over the place in an uncoordinated mess, which is kinda where this metaphor falls apart.
‘Said the Mute Deaf’ is one of the higher points of the album; with the melodeath vibe piercing through with sixteenth note kick and ride-blasts, combined with harmonized tremolo picks that really gives off a Dawn of Disease and old school At the Gates feel, while the subsequent song ‘Mind Cage’ falls short, falling back on overly-simplistic Amon Amarth style melodies that just fails to hit that sweet spot for me, largely because Amon Amarth excite me about as much as watching a documentary on the drying process of paint intercut with episodes of Songs of Praise with the sounds on mute and all the lights off.
While I’m pretty on board with ‘Disequilibrium’, others may be put off by some of it’s more repetitive tropes and the overarching feeling that we’ve heard this all before but by other more established bands twenty years prior (which in fairness is hardly unheard of considering the oversaturation of the genre in recent times). In its defence, I’d argue that despite its lack of originality the actual album is thoroughly enjoyable from front to back and handles itself pretty well after repeat listens. After all, a pie is still a good pie even if you’d had pie before and there’s very little point trying to build a roller-coaster into the pastry; you’d just end up with much less pie and a lot more screaming children in your kitchen.
7/10
