Based on the evidence of their debut EP, (or mini-LP as it’ll likely be known in some circles), I can only assume that the five guys making up Misguided Aggression have listened to a lot of Lamb of God and Meshuggah in the last decade or two. This Canadian quintet splits the difference between them; the four-on-the-floor, grinding slab riffs ring of the former, but angular tempo shifts, tough bass-and-drum barreling, and prog-ish flourishes suggest the experimentalism of the latter. There’s some dilution in the formula—they’re not quite as bone-crushing as LoG, nor are they nearly as adventurous and off-kilter as Meshuggah—but the blend is mostly satisfying. Still, their greatest asset for the time being is brevity, which, of course, is both a good and a bad thing.
Rob Demedeiros takes center stage for Hatchala’s assault, with Ben Dobson and Randy Allcock sharing guitar duties and John Godfrey and Ben Taylor handling the rhythm section. Considering the dual guitar attack, it’s unfortunate that the two don’t play off one another more; more frequently than not, they pound the same riffs on top of each other for a louder but less dynamic sound. The brief instrumental “The Palamnaeusus Fulvipes” shows what they’re capable of, with one of them battering astride the drum and bass while the other flickers at a higher tone underneath. But most of the time, all of the musicians are focused on just one thing: brutal licks and crashing beats. Again, both good and bad.
Demedeiros’ vocals are the sort handed out to almost every metal band now: the death growl, where he shreds his cords pretty much every time his lips part. For the style, he’s up to the task, but the style is the problem. If the intention was to disguise the words, then it worked, which might not have been too terrible an idea. As is the case of most of these extreme metal bands, there’s not a whole lot of originality in the lyrics—they’re as belligerent as the music that surrounds them and always straight to the obvious point, despite frequently being nondescript and unexpressive. “You’re tying the noose around your neck/Mindfucking the hell out of your own God damn fucking head,” screams Demedeiros on “Our Kingdom Come.” Then, on “Pigs in the Market”: “The blood is on the walls/If we still need more bacon/We shall slaughter them all.” They’re not entirely limited to fists, steel and the aftermath, as seen by “pirates and popes [living] with grace” on “Flesh to Gold,” and “Metal Horn Bessy,” which, assuming she’s not an actual cow, is apparently some particularly potent strain of marijuana (since irony is virtually dead in the metal world, it’s impossible to tell if there’s sarcasm in, “Pack me up another bowl/Light that shit up, count to three”).
Some songs leave their mark, though. The leadoff title track segues into “Our Kingdom Come,” chugging on some propulsive percussive riffs that twist on each other at irregular intervals. The bridge breakdown of “Faces of Abomination” is one of the strongest moments, where the melodic thrash leaves the churning behind (though it doesn’t make up for the extended and misshapen line, “A war to fight on chance to right to walk to fall to rise to die”). And the “Fulvipes” instrumental and “Mustard Gas & Roses” offer a brief break from some of the interminable qualities of the riffage—more variety would help them a great deal. Luckily, at about twenty-six minutes, the record ends just before it becomes truly incessant.
Misguided Aggression shows promise, but falls prey to the same diseases infecting far too much metal today—they’ve got the intensity down pat, but where’s the variety? By the time we land on “Metal Horn Bessy”’s interesting but uninspired lock-step riffs that careen off the void between the hammering beats, we’ve just become numb. They’ve shown their love for their heroes (and even touches of hardcore and post-metal), but being amidst the upper echelon of the faceless is nowhere to aspire to. Let’s hope the next outing shows a more confident and more unique band, voicing original ideas instead of their music collections’ “greatest hits.” Still, they probably know their audience better than I do, and I expect the more obsessive (and less-discriminating) metalheads out there will knock the score up at least a point.
"Hatchala" is on sale March 17, 2009 from Year of the Sun.
