One is a classically-trained pianist and composer. The other is a noise rock/hardcore metal screamer. Together, they are celan, no fans of capital letters, but more importantly, a progressive new faction in the expanding world of avant metal. Could’ve used a little more of the avant, but if this fusion sounds appealing to you, I can’t imagine you could go wrong.
They are Ari Benjamin Meyers (Einstürzende Neubauten) and Chris Spencer (Unsane), joined by three more musicians from flu.ID and Oxbow (Phil Roeder, Franz Xavier, Niko Wenner). In fits and starts, their debut LP halo is positively shattering and stirring in equal breaths. In between, you might catch yourself glancing at your watch or itching for the skip button. Or maybe because the high points are so good, the remainder just seems like filler clogging up the momentum.
“Safety Recall Notice” puts the listener in an unfair position. A vibrating synth wave gets piled on by noise effects and electronic shrapnel. It plummets from your ears the moment the record clicks to track two, “A Thousand Charms.” And there you are, looking around uncomfortably while a little girl murmurs in your ear—as is necessary for metal records, the effect is eerie, not sweet. And then Spencer comes roaring in with his full-lung screaming snarl, the guitars, bass and drums locked in tight for a series of piston-styled battering blows. “Charms” will break your skull; or maybe it’s more accurate to say that your skull breaks because of how you react. But as far as the all-out and fairly traditional headbanging goes, there’s your summit. Along with “Safety”’s intro, they’ve set themselves up too high to meet the instant demand. On “Charms”’s heels are “All This and Everything” and “One Minute,” depressingly non-descript in their sameness to a thousand other heavy bands. “Minute” could even pass itself off as an old school metal track, but not a particularly good or catchy one.
They don’t recover until “Sinking,” which is dark and doomful, with a palpable sense of claustrophobia as the unsettled and unpredictable rhythms begin to shrink in on you. But just when the panic begins to overwhelm, the Meyers parallax (as I shall refer to it) sets in and a simple but dramatic piano melody laid over the undulating guitars emphasizes the richness of its descending climax. That parallax is less effective on “Washing Machine,” which drifts by in a fog for more than four minutes, but serves little effect besides giving you a breather between the thrashing parts. “Train of Thought” mirrors that sentiment in a more confined space—quieter overdubbed segments of static and tape split up traditional metal chord progressions. In that case, at least, the effects tucked into the corners (even the seemingly impenetrable distorted stuff) give it just enough juice to succeed.
The quiet-loud approach bodes well on “It’s Low,” as well. The verses are moody, sidewinding and withdrawn, like Alice in Chains with flatter vocals. But the choruses explode, and the song’s great hook comes through with slashing electronic string sounds that scrape like knives. Epic closer “Lunchbox” begins as lackadaisical as “Washing Machine” but eventually begins building steam with hard-pounded keys and organ-like synths until it looms big as a mountain. With all the grand, over-the-top drama, it’s like the overture of a goth opera. Sandwiched between these two strong cuts, though, is “Wait and See,” which starts promisingly with a churning beat and a great, creaky guitar sound, but it doesn’t have a great middle or end (and certainly not a chorus as grabby as “Low”’s).
Spotty as it is in quality, halo at least never commits a cardinal sin—even the usually monotonous vocals and par-for-the-course lyrical makeup is nothing to gripe about. The lesser tracks are no worse than filler extraordinaire, and would likely be highlights in the repertoire of most other generic acts pretending to be the dark-horned real deal. The musicians all perform admirably, the production is strong across the board, and there’s just enough nuance and originality in the dynamic to give it the bite to not merely stand apart from their peers, but stand taller than most. True, celan may not earn a halo for the effort, but this album makes the grade in the balance between the highs and lows of their layered, brooding sound.
"Halo" is on sale September 8, 2009 from Exile on Mainstream.
