The Sword - High Country
Rock and Metal bands rarely, if ever, get heavier as their careers go on. This is always explained by an artistic desire to ‘grow’ and ‘evolve’ as a band; to never repeat the same formula; to incorporate new sounds and genres whilst simultaneously trying to maintain their identity. The Sword’s fifth record High Country does exactly that. They’ve seemed to abandon the doom-stoner mould which they triumphantly delivered on the first three records. Such a noticeable transformation will always draw critics and create meaningless disputes, but it should never be condemned. No band really wants to keep making the same album over and over again, it’s boring and predictable and unchallenging. However, a shift in genre isn’t enough to encapsulate an audience or a loyal fan-base. Whether a band decides to make a space-jam-reggae-concept album or a Nautical Funeral Doom EP, the songs still have to be good and you need to hear that bit of magic. Within the Heavy-Metal community High Country will be as divisive as the Berlin Wall. But that isn’t a bad thing. Umm yeah sorry the Berlin Wall was definitely a bad thing, but what about this new album? Has The Sword lost its edge?
As it starts you may be mistaken for accidentally playing that Kasabian album you once bought during your ontological crisis back in the early 2000s; when you briefly doubted heavy music while St. Anger obnoxiously announced itself by donkey-punching the Planet Earth on its ear. This short and quirky electronic intro is very surprising and certainly keeps you intrigued, but for how long?
Empty Temples sounds awkwardly similar to a Thin Lizzy song, albeit slightly thinner. Identical guitar work combined with an impression of Phil Lynott’s classic vocal delivery. The chorus proclaims “Let go of all that binds you… Your kind will always find you”; which could easily be a quote posted on the internet, written in italics against a back-drop of a flock of birds peacefully flying in harmonious unison toward the sun-kissed horizon. Awww. No matter how sweet it sounds, this highlights one of the main problems with this record. The lyrics rarely address anything specific and can be quite frustratingly vague and confusing - “There is a new path … always has been”. Thin Lizzy would tell stories by actually identifying characters and places, whether it be a sweet Irish Gal in a bar, or Johnny the Fox down on First Street. As opposed to some far-away fantasy land of complete destruction/devastation yet promise/hope, somewhere, as someone/something maybe has to keep valiantly pursuing something or perhaps something else bad may happen possibly somewhere else, potentially.
As we get to the fourth track, Tears like Diamonds, a character has finally been identified. BUT WHO IS SHE? The owls are crying out for answers too by now, and those bloody fire-flies in the last song didn’t even drop us a hint. We soon discover “where she’s been she’ll never tell”. Great. Why is she crying? Fear of the unknown most likely.
The next song is called Mist and Shadow. No Shit. We enter a place where there is “nothing to do but commute with the trees”. The song is salvaged by a cool guitar riff and a hooky vocal melody. It seems there’s not much going on in High Country, as people try to desperately entertain themselves by talking to oak trees, whilst nearby lies the remains of a diminished vortex where evil forces had previously aligned. A bit like Bognor Regis. Or Stevenage.
However, the band hit a hot streak with the next three tracks. We are introduced to gypsy witches, wise men and fools, everyone’s making love and having fun and everything is temporarily ok. Two of these tracks are instrumental, yet ironically you get a better understanding of what’s going on. The band courageously experiment with electronic music with a surprisingly positive effect. Great, crisp production with a touch of Boogie-Rock. Musically, the record is mostly enjoyable. The riffs are good, the playing is tight and there are some surprises. The horns on Early Snow being the highlight.
The Dreamthieves is a strong track, but you give up on the conceptual narrative when it’s told that “you’re searching, as you look up into the sky”. Where are we and who are we? What’s actually going on? Nevermind. The riffs are great and the band is playing really well. However, we approach the metaphorical path again, is this the same new path that was always here before anyway?
Silver Petals is a lovely Zeppelin-esque acoustic interlude. It’s the sort of song that goes straight onto that playlist you’ve got called ‘CHILL OUT’ on your iTunes. You know, the one with that Enya song you can’t quite figure out why you like. How pathetic.
There’s enough decent riffs and songs on here like any Sword album to impress the fan-base and attract some new ones. But the familiarity of the mid-tempo-anthemic-heavy-rock song becomes slightly waning. Fifteen tracks seems very bloated. Rock albums of the last ten years have been far more challenging and daring, with more memorable moments. Ultimately, the heavy-rock benchmark has been set too high by The Swords’ contemporaries for High Country to even be seen as a memorable effort. It becomes too repetitive and the narrative is unclear, there’s too much uncertainty with the themes and lyrics. It’s a rather uncomfortable position for a listener to be in, hoping that an album is tongue-in-cheek, without ever really being sure. You’d have thought Unicorn Farm confirmed this at the start, but strangely enough it didn’t.