Broadly speaking, Xibalba is the Mayan for “place of fear”, an aptly-chosen name for these Californian noiseniks. Nominally a hardcore band, Xibalba draw influence from both death and doom metal, which goes someway to explaining why the mighty Southern Lord expressed in interest in the band following the release of their 2010 debut on A389 Recordings. Anos En infierno is the band’s fourth studio album and, with Arthur Rizk (Power Trip, Cro Mags) on board for the ride, the band now sound heavier than ever, although that does not mean they’ve jettisoned the psychedelic edge that made them so special in the first place.
From the moment the eerie, corrupted first bars of La Injustica emerge from the speakers, it’s clear that this is going to be a record that combines bowel-loosening depth with moments of left-field experimentation. Based around a churning groove, the opening track clears the path ahead for the relatively short Corredor De La Muerte, a tribal tornado of acid-etched riffing that, despite its brevity, conjures up images of My Dying Bride at their deathliest. Without a pause, Santa Muerte is upon us and, such is the unplumbed depths of the bass, that you’ll be needing a new pair of trousers should you play the track at too high a volume. It’s sort of thrash, if you imagine thrash played by a doom band in a cement mixer, and it’s entirely awesome. Then there’s the short, far-from-sweet instrumental Saka, a percussive monster reminiscent of Sepultura’s early days. It sounds like the band recruited an army of percussionists for the intro, and there’s no denying the visceral thrill of the propulsive rhythms.
The descending riff of Anos En Infierno perfectly reflects the title and, with its guttural vocals, the track proves to be a devastating assault upon the senses.Whilst the opening riff of En La Oscuridad may slow the pace, it’s only a moment’s respite, for the track itself is among the fastest on the album. Saving the best for last, the two-part El Abismo occupies some twelve minutes of the album’s thirty-five minute runtime, and the band make fantastic use of the extended length of the piece to craft a deeply satisfying finale. El Abismo I brings in clean vocals and shimmering guitar, like some long lost Harvestman track, although such a moment of calm cannot last, and the track is shot through with obsidian threads of blackened noise. El Abismo II, meanwhile, surges towards the band’s hardcore roots, the riff a primitive sledgehammer to the cranium after the post-rock stylings of its forebear. Even here, however, the band throw in a sonic curve ball, and the gloriously thuggish punk riffing gives way to something more satisfyingly majestic at the album’s close.
Xibalba are one of those bands who defy easy categorisation. Instead, they toy with their influences, wringing whatever is needed from them and then discarding them in favour of some new method of pummelling the listener. An album of impressive light and shade, despite the overall levels of heaviness that abound, this is a must have for fans of all things heavy. 9/10
