Originally Written by Jordan Campbell
It seems like we’ve been wringing our hands over the so-called Loudness War for over a decade. As such, isn’t really much I can (or want to) add to the discussion. People that are well-versed in the specifics, such as Metal-Fi and the Angry Metal Guy himself, have been using tangible metrics to preach the putridity of all-to-the-wall production techniques; seek them out if you want to get schooled.
Personally, I’m less scientific. If your band has a distaste for dynamics and thinks technological precision should trump the human element, we (probably) don’t have a lot in common, and you can (probably) go fuck yourself while I listen to something that doesn’t sound like ass.
Death metal has been the most alarming offender in this regard, and so, this former tech-death fiend (Willowip ’06 4-EVA) has taken a reactionary anti-shine to raw black metal, grindcore, and hardcore over the past handful of years. Death metal waged a minor rebellion against its increasingly-plasticized nature a few years back–with the whole OSDM-cum-murkcore sect–and it was admirable for its intention, if not its execution. But this was a fringe movement. Their efforts weren’t strong enough to turn the tides of distasteful recording trends.
Make no mistake: Loudness is a trend. It always has been. Many people have stressed about it becoming “the new normal,” fearful that the demographic that consumes processed bullshit like the new Aborted will doom us all to tail-chase pop princesses and surface-level EDM until the end of time.
This would be a danger if heavy metal was a democracy. It’s not. It’s a dictatorship. The masses will buy what they’re sold.
As such, it’s the responsibility of big-ish bands themselves to begin peace talks between the kids that are blasting Rings of Saturn through stock iPod earbuds and those that prefer a living-room sitdown with the stylings of Martin Birch.
When will the heavies bring us down from the peak of the brickwall?
Well, the descent is upon us. 2014 might go down as the year that loudness began to die.
For better or for worse, death metal has long been extreme metal’s guiding compass, whether through themes (Morbid Angel‘s occultism and/or Cannibal Corpse‘s gore) or technique (Necrophagist‘s elegant wank and/or Bolt Thrower‘s bludgeoning tanks). It’s also carried a torch for production, whether we’re talking about Scott Burns’ dessication or the pristine punches of J-F Dagenais and Tue Madsen. (Say what you will about the breakthroughs made by black metal, but most were done as a reaction to death metal’s established norms.)
But roughly a decade ago, it was decided that maximum weight could only be achieved through maximum loudness. Two bands are largely to blame for perpetuating this myth: Behemoth and Origin.
Nergal has spent the majority of the 2014 tweaking Behemoth’s image, waging an oft-intelligent PR campaign aimed at separating his band from the imitators that have been praying at the altars of Demigod and The Apostasy. Critics lauded The Satanist‘s breathability–though Metal-Fi and AMG still found it somewhat offensive–but popular reaction was split. Many Behemoth diehards disliked the band distancing itself from one-dimensional brutality, and the album’s critical steam has cooled considerably.
If any band was going to turn the trend’s tide, it was going to be Behemoth. But even the giants were having a tough time turning their notoriously stubborn fanbase into the light, even incrementally. And wasn’t going to be an overnight switch. They’d need some assistance.
That’s slated to come from an unlikely source: Paul Ryan.
Almost moreso than Behemoth, Origin popularized the “EVERYBODY GO!” attack on Informis Infinitas Inhumanitas and Echoes of Decimation, forcing the hands of heavier-than-thou also-rans into questionable production techniques to bolster their attack. But Origin made a shocking announcement prior to the release of their new single: Their new record has been mixed and mastered by Colin Marston.
Now, admittedly, it seems like every record that’s come out over the past eighteen months has been mastered by Marston. But Origin seemed like an unlikely candidate for his services, at least on the surface. Marston’s work on the intricate Artificial Brain record earlier this year showed what he could do with full-nerd tech-death; it’s proof that cripple-jointed DM can sound awesome without sounding like a bunch of Legos crammed into a blender.
That Origin would seek out his services is inspiring. While their band of death metal is clearly of the studious, hyper-precise variety, they’ve always come off more like jocks than geeks; bros that are flexing their flash and athleticism while using the shiniest method of transportation.
But, like Behemoth, they’ve tempered themselves “Manifest Desolate,” if not in composition, but in approach.
Now, the song really isn’t anything special, but compared to the screaming-bright Antithesis (their strongest album, compositionally), it sounds downright savage. But there’s a perception problem. Take this Youtube comment, for instance:
The production on each album has been getting progressively worse since Antithesis in my opinion. This sounds under-produced to me.
(We’re all familiar with the general bullshittiness of Youtube commentary, but honestly, it’s a more representative slice of the Origin-record-buying public than the LR comments section.)
We’ve gotten to the point where, if they aren’t being oblivion-smacked with a Fleshgod Apocalypse frying pan, people think something is “under-produced.” The populace has been poisoned.
We’ve been waiting for a listener-led revolution against loudness, similar to the one that sprurred the advent of digital music and the prolonged demise of major-label commerce, but there’s no fighting blood in the majority. There will be no violent overthrow. We need to move straight into dictatorship of the proletariat.
And that dictatorship is upon us. The artists have reacted. The trendsetters are progressing. In two years, Labrynth is going to sound as dated as a Ross Robinson job circa 2001.
We buy what we’re sold. The artists are the ones with the true power. And when they stop selling us bullshit, we know the war is in it’s dying days. The path to peace is growing clearer, and Colin Marston is our Riva.
