Turian – No Longer Human Review

Gremlins are such delightful vicious little creatures. They’re decked out with spikey spines, gnarly teeth and razor-sharp claws. Despite their small stature, they wreak unimaginable havoc regardless of whether they are rolling solo are acting as a roving gang. Why, their mere presence could destroy an entire town!

Seattle’s Turian is absolutely a bunch of gremlins. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure they’re all adorable huggable mogwais in real life but they’ve clearly been doused in a Niagara Fall’s worth of water to turn them into crazed, rambunctious monsters on the appropriately titled No Longer Human. Better yet, they’re more like gremlins from Gremlins 2: The New Batch because these tunes are genetically modified with powers from a variety of genres that make their attacks a little more unpredictable and wild.

Opener “Slowdeath” is anything but slow as a mighty roar from Vern Metztli and some death-inflected riffs kick off the album with enough energy to launch grandma and her stair lift right through the roof of the house. There’s some metallic hardcore on offer before the guitars get a bit more elastic and a powerfully bellowed “FUCK” drops into the album’s first breakdown. Who among us doesn’t have an inner adolescent that loves a good opportunity to yell out “fuck” during a killer song? The album closes on a whimpered muttering of the word as well, so you’re treated to a nice fuck sandwich of an album.

No Longer Human by TURIAN

While the plan is to stay on the offensive attack primarily, Turian doesn’t shy away from blending in their influences. No Longer Human assaults the ears with sludge’s penchant for noise, hardcore’s reliance on simplicity and stomping tactics, and a grind mentality for keeping things short and to the point. This can be exemplified well by looking at the two songs that occupy the opposite ends of the length spectrum. The album’s shortest song, “Willoughby,” goes straight for the throat with a riff that sounds like it’s being tasered in the taint and even the breakdown passage feels like someone hit the fast-forward button. It’s an electric blend of metallic hardcore and grind for your raging needs. “American Dog,” however, uses its 3:27 runtime to leverage repeated lines and elements that make it almost hypnotic during certain sections. Certainly not a word you’re likely to hear thrown at your standard grind or hardcore bands.

Those elements of play float up throughout the album, helping to make repeated listens more rewarding as each quirk rears its head again and again. “Judas Tree” just straight-up rocks and relies on a beat that will likely get crowds clapping along. “Malfunction” lets the bass and drums lead while the guitars mostly trickle and make noise. They even manage to throw in a slow, mini-jam session into the middle of “Buster Room.” Perhaps the biggest left turn comes from the mostly spoken-word track “Ten Misfortunes.” Metztli plays with the spoken word so it’s a little weirder and less straightforward than you would expect. Mileage for that will likely vary for each listener.

That being said, Turian knows it’s also essential to end on a strong note. “Saila Maaso” opens with one of the album’s best riffs and spends the majority of its time in true pit-crusher form. From the first note to the last, Turian is playful but dangerous.

At 26-minutes in length, No Longer Human doesn’t have an ounce of fat on it to be trimmed. This Seattle quartet is a lean, mean, chaos-making machine ready to overrun bars all over the country with a bunch of gremlin friends losing their minds and tearing the place apart.