Over the course of thirty-three years and fourteen albums, you’d be forgiven for thinking that Sepultura would be entirely robbed of their ability to surprise. And yet if the run of albums that began in 2001 with the monstrous ‘Nation’ has told us anything, it is that Sepultura have embraced a wilful and oft-overlooked progressive streak that manifested itself most plainly in 2006’s ‘Dante XXI’ and 2009’s ‘A-Lex’, but which has arguably been there all along. That progressive streak is very much to the fore on the mighty ‘Machine Messiah’, the band’s third outing on mega-metal label Nuclear Blast. There is a wildly exhilarating spirit of innovation and daring that hangs over the album suggesting that the band, invigorated by the success of the well-received ‘Kairos’ and ‘the mediator between head and hands must be the heart’, are keen to remain a truly innovative force in metal.
From the off, Sepultura are out to challenge preconceptions. Eschewing the dark, violent opener that we have come to expect from the band, the title track is a swirling thing of beauty that pairs a rhythmic, palm-muted guitar with huge, droning chords over which Derek’s rich, clean vocal emerges, swathed in harmony and wreathed in echo. Similar in tone to Gojira’s progressive masterpiece ‘Magma’ and the lighter moments found on Machine Head’s latter day albums, it’s a brave opening track that sets a more contemplative tone for the album, although metal fans should be aware that there is still plenty of brutality to come. And when it comes, it comes hard. ‘I am the enemy’ is best described as ‘Classic Sepultura’ with its astringent guitars and punk-infused fury harking back to the band’s earliest days of hyper-speed thrash. Andreas Kisser has a field-day throwing out a dizzying solo but the real star of the show is Eloy Casagrande whose powerhouse drumming provides the band with a pounding heartbeat that is thrillingly alive. As dextrous as he is heavy-hitting, Eloy must take some of the credit for the surging power of Sepultura’s recent output and his work continues to impress on the Eastern-themed ‘Phantom self’, a sand-blasted mini-epic that sees Andreas twisting his guitar work into ever-more-innovative shapes as he faces off against dreamy strings in a cultural showdown as ground-breaking as anything found on the much-feted ‘roots’. With the mesmerising strings of ‘Phantom self’ still lingering, ‘Alethea’ emerges from a pulverising beat to crush the listener with its doom-laden guitars and awkward time signatures. It offers a nod back to ‘Nation’, although the band’s approach is refined to a deadly focus here and Derrick’s vocals only seem to have grown in power and precision since those nascent days in the band. Aptly titled, ‘Iceberg dances’, an instrumental written by Eloy and Andreas, has a visceral energy to it that demonstrates that instrumental prowess that lies at the heart of the band.
Perfectly positioned to open the second half of the album, ‘Sworn oath’ takes its time to emerge from a haze of distortion, taking in a variety of sounds and styles as the band use strings to grand effect before plunging into a dark groove that is guaranteed to get necks snapping. Even then, it’s only half the story, and a bridge appears that owes much to the classical works of Holst and Orff. The juxtaposition is deftly implemented, however, and far from jarring it adds a depth and a character to the track that recalls the stunning ‘Ostia’ from ‘Dante xxi’. Paulo Xisto firmly stamps his presence on the record next as his distorted bass threatens to wreck speakers on the brutal ‘Resistant parasites’ but, once again, as the song progresses, so Andreas continues to explore world music themes, drawing them into a juddering metal framework that will leave you gasping. The blistering ‘silent violence’ is pure thrash brutality, short and sharp, although not without its own sonic detours it is a mosh-pit pleaser whilst ‘vandals nest’ is similarly exciting with a riff that digs all the way back to ‘Chaos AD’ for inspiration. The album proper concludes with the syncopated, sinister ‘cyber god’, a dynamic and apocalyptic climax to the album that provides the perfect end to the complex journey Sepultura have taken us upon. As a microcosm of the album it has it all: spoken word passages, clean vocals, that mighty Derrick Green roar, blistering solos and churning riffs all drawn together into five glorious minutes. You could not ask for a more satisfying conclusion than this.
Sepultura are an increasingly rare band in the metal world in that they continue to challenge their fans and themselves, never fearing criticism and simply trusting in their own muse. Commercially, the band would arguably have done better over the years to follow the formula of their perceived classic albums such as ‘Arise’ and ‘Chaos AD’, but that way creative bankruptcy lies and it’s hard to imagine Sepultura having had so lengthy a career if they had followed such a path. Instead, Andreas and his troops of doom have a followed a more satisfying road, embracing multi-culturalism and an endlessly searching progressive spirit that has allowed the creation of albums that are both satisfyingly heavy and suitably unique. ‘Machine Messiah’ is an open-minded, gloriously heavy album that allows each of the artists within the band to flourish. Eloy’s percussive brilliance remains a thing of wonder, but it is arguable that it is Andreas whose work deserves the most credit on this album. Always an inventive guitarist, on ‘Machine Messiah’ there is a feeling that he’s pushed himself further than ever before and listening to him dual the Eastern strings on ‘Phantom Self’ is a joy quite aside from the visceral thrill that the song produces. Sepultura remain a most potent act and ‘Machine Messiah’ is a metallic masterpiece that embraces the multicultural nature of music at a time when divisions between peoples are more prevalent than ever. Truly stunning. 10
Deluxe edition notes
Like so many albums, ‘Machine Messiah’ is available as a special edition digi-pack. Packaged in a hard-back book format rather than the somewhat flimsy digi-packs of the last two albums, the special edition of ‘Machine Messiah’ offers two bonus tracks (one original, one cover) as well as a lengthy ‘making of…’ DVD. Clocking in at 53 minutes, the DVD is of particular interest because it documents the detail that went into making this varied and endlessly fascinating album and although you’re not likely to watch it often it’s still worth having. Of the two bonus tracks, ‘chosen skin’ is best. An original, it is potent and heavy but it lacks the innovative spirit found on the rest of the album and you can see why it was left out of the original sequence. Nonetheless, as a toxic blast of Sepultura at their thrashy best, ‘chosen skin’ is right on the money and a worthy extra. ‘Ultraseven no uta’ (an amusing cover of the opening theme to Ultraseven), is a bludgeoning cover that sounds like Iron Maiden, Manga and Motorhead thrown into a blender. It sounds like the band having a blast in the studio and will leave you with a smile on your face if nothing else. In short, if you’re a Sepultura fan, buy the special edition.
