Epic crust punk seems like a misnomer.
But of course, the spirit of punk rock is one of belief shaking and rule breaking, even if that spirit is oft forgotten by those who strictly adhere to punk-by-numbers parameters. And what’s less punk than ten-minute songs that ebb and flow in a cinematic grandiosity, equal parts beautiful and blistering?
And then, in terms of punk rock iconoclasm, what could be more punk than that?
Portland’s Nux Vomica is not the first to blend post-rock expansionism with crust punk fury. Among other examples, Sweden’s Unkind offers a similar mixture, though theirs is not as well done as what’s here. In Nux’s formula lie the expected components: furious hardcore, riff-happy metal, soul-destroying doom, violent d-beat, and hints of cold blackness. This marks the crossroads of Neurosis’ crushing drift and Tragedy’s sometime-melodic rage, with others thrown in to add further spice, and as you’d expect given those titanic influences, it’s outstanding.
Of Nux Vomica’s three tracks, none is shorter than eleven minutes, and closing number “Choked At The Roots” stops ten seconds shy of twenty minutes. Nux Vomica is an album smashed together and carved back into three sections, more progressive-styled suites than standard songs. Dynamics shift endlessly; chiming chords and haunting melodies give way to d-beat-driven aggression; these tracks build through a series of crashing climaxes, the punk and the post- pushing and pulling against each other as vocalist Just Dave’s gritty snarl sometimes does with the melodic beneath it.
Though all three tunes are great in their own rights, it’s “Choked” that shines brightest. Starting with a hazy bass-led intro, the song proper kicks in several minutes past the starting point, picking up steam and heading straight into a melodic hardcore-fueled heaviness that perfectly defines Nux Vomica’s attack. Dave screams while the guitars dance through a series of near-Gothenburg riffs, the whole of it moving effortlessly forward through constantly changing themes. In these twenty minutes, motifs are introduced and discarded, but never for the worst – riffs are used, imprinted, and the song moves on, naturally, flowing like it should. Nothing in Nux Vomica’s shifting drift feels unnatural or out-of-place, even if the component parts wouldn’t quite appear as though they fit together.
Nux Vomica the album is Nux Vomica the band’s first release in five years, since 2009’s double-LP Asleep In The Ashes, and it’s their first since signing to underground heavy-hitter Relapse. Though Ashes was no dud, it meandered as much as it drifted through its hour-long running time. This self-titled effort meets or exceeds it in every manner – the songs are more cohesive, better structured; the production is stouter; its various components are better integrated. It’s a grand blend of styles seemingly disparate, and yet clearly capable of seriously effective symbiosis.
The band’s name is taken from both the tree that produces the poison strychnine and a homeopathic cure-all made from the same plant, touted as a remedy for myriad ailments. It’s a combination of the shade and the light, of death and life, a toxin and a tonic, and it’s fitting, for herein lies unbridled anger aside uplifting beauty. It’s a study in what probably shouldn’t work, and it does work well, and epically.
