A Fate Worse Than Death
Seattle residents Black Breath drop their third belligerent communique this month having made their name on two previous long-players - Heavy Breathing and Sentenced to Life - that adeptly mixed hardcore riffs, Swedish death metal guitar tones and the bleakness of black metal to bruising effect.
Perhaps aware of the risks of continuing to pummel the same sweet spot, having been joined by more bands of the same ilk, and becoming predictable the band have made some subtle tweaks on new record Slaves Beyond Death. A title that suggests merely dealing with life as they did on their second album was too wimpy.
To suggest that the change will leave fans bemoaning the Black Breath name is taking things a little far; the five piece haven’t swapped metal for mandolins after all but there are longer songs making greater use of space and allowing the lead guitar playing of Eric Wallace and Mark Palm to swoop as well slash. Vocalist Neil McAdams - he of the leonine roar - has also made use of more gurgles, rasps and the odd silence to bolster Black Breath’s ways to kill while producer Kurt Ballou furthers his reputation as the man to go to if you want guitars and drums capable of industrial demolition. As opener Pleasure, Pain, Disease succinctly attests Black Breath haven’t reinvented their particular wheel: “Screaming. Screaming. Unwrapping skin. Screaming. Blood. Blood. Blood.” Charming. It gets worse on the title track as the riffs recalibrate dialling an evil tone and McAdams warns us that we’ll never be free.
For the most part the first side is the familiar grinding, rough-hewn Black Breath recognisable from their first two records but from the flowing coda of Reaping Flesh into Seeds of Cain Black Breath begin to tread on new ground. For instance, the latter track’s melodic intro leads into a mechanical gallop which itself gives way to a sludgy dirge before the sun sets with a melancholy guitar outro. Black Breath sound almost resigned at this point. Certainly McAdams anguished scream that opens Arc of Violence gives this impression and entering A Place of Insane Cruelty hardly seems like a redemptive act.
The endless nights and empty roads begin to pile up in the land of despair that is Slaves Beyond Death but really this is a gripping miasma of a listen especially over multiple plays, something it lends itself to more than the preceding headbanging blasts of pure concentrated rhythm and riffs. Closing instrumental song Chains of the Afterlife gets it's late eighties Metallica on, successfully casting a mournful, wordlessly reflective end to a mature album which shows Black Breath in control of their worldly fate.