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Released on January 27, 2015 via Superball Music
Lord Dying are something of a throwback metal band rather than a retro one – they blend the muscle of Bay Area thrash, joyful workman like heart of Red Fang and some of metal’s more ridiculous excesses into a record oozing craft and riff-worship.
It’s not hard to guess what you’re going to get from Lord Dying before you’ve heard a note – there’s that band name, that album cover, all those beardy, plaid-covered press photos and their tour spots with the likes of Black Tusk and Red Fang. No one’s going to mistake Poisoned Altars for a record of indie pop nuggets. And you’d have to be pretty out of the metal loop to be expecting a blast of pure doom with peers like those.
So, you may have already guessed we’re in that territory formerly occupied by the likes of Mastodon and Baroness before they lightened up their pallet and now occupied by the aforementioned Red Fang and Black Tusk along with the likes of Kylesa et al. Not that there’s anything wrong with predictability – as much as it’s nice to have your preconceptions smashed sometimes it’s nice sometimes to put on a record and know near enough exactly what you’re going to get.
What makes Lord Dying distinct from their peers is that their style is rooted in classic metal traditions – their sound is heavily influenced by early thrash and some of the bands who took that sound and ran with it, particularly that whole 90’s Bay area thrash sound (Crowbar/Eyehategod/early Machine Head). Which suits them like a sleeveless denim jacket – when they try to get a bit more of a progressive vibe going the drumming is a bit too meat and potatoes to carry their brief forays into experimental grooves. But when they play with a straight bat, battling forward with heavy rolling beats, they have an irresistible momentum about them.
But what really stands out is the cultured shredding on display. I mean cultured in the same way a boxer’s style can be described as cultured – their job may be to punch faces but sometime it’s done with a deftness and panache that it doesn’t take an aficionado to identify or admire. The snake-like grind that drives on ‘The Clearing at the End of the Path’ is a case in point – it’s an elusive, meaty groove that elevates what could have been a by-the-numbers spot of riff pummelling into something compelling addictive. And there are a good few such moments which will have heads nodding in appreciation, as well as generally just nodding along.
And that’s what they’re here for – to get heads banging. They don’t have any inner demons to purge and theirs no literary allusions or occult dabblings to chew over. In fact lyrically they’re not a million miles from Manowar “Our Path is set, our fires burn bright/As we head into the night! Feel the power running through your veins/Follow us into the flames!” goes ‘A Wound Outside of Time’. As they put it themselves they’re, “here to pummel and promote simpler things like Cold brew-Hot Shower.” I imagine those lyrics would sound great with a beer and shower, bellowing through the falling water. I might give that a go.
So don’t go into Poisoned Altars expecting your horizons altering. What you’ll find instead is an album full of competence, confidence and fuelled by a deep abiding passion for heavy metal. It has no urge to upset the apple cart – at heart it’s pretty conservative. But those of us who occasionally crave the warm embrace of a well-crafted spot of metal fury without any pretence or concessions to fashion will find a lot to like about the cut of Lord Dying’s jib.
