When I reviewed Soulmass’ previous album, Let Us Pray, and when I named it to spot number 20 on my best-of list last year, I mentioned that while part of my enjoyment of the album was the source material that inspired their theme, you needn’t be interested in the game Bloodborne to enjoy that 50 minutes of fantastic death doom. Well, Soulmass decided to test me on that theory by releasing an album inspired by Mobile Suit Gundam, which I know next to nothing about. In fact, when I saw references to colony drop, I thought they might be talking about that syndrome that hits certain groups of bees where all the workers abandoned the queen (that’s colony collapse by the way). Even Mother Nature knows unions matter.
Much of the album fires off assaultive rhythms, but the duo’s penchant for melody is still everpresent, giving the more mechanical approach a touch of somber life whenever it appears. This is particularly effective when they couple it with microcosms of doom within these shorter songs. Album opener “Jet Stream Attack” starts with a thrashy riff before cranking the speed way up. At two different points, melody elevates the song significantly. The first is when a lead-style passage is played over downright battering drums and then as it rings out over a brief doomy trudge before returning to those militant snare rolls. Brett Windnagle, who handles all of the instruments, isn’t afraid of a touch of groove, either. “Nothing Left” starts with an absolutely meaty riff with just enough groove to create a potent hook. Never content to let an element overstay its welcome, the song also has a flowing dissonant stretch that’s ugly but infectious before the song opens up into sustained slow notes. An eerie melody carries over that, creating an absolute pit-crusher of a passage.
There’s an excellent sense of songcraft on display as Windnagle knows precisely when to introduce a new element or bring a previous one back. My personal favorite, “Stardust,” exemplifies this well. It opens with a building rhythm that sounds like a robot coming to life and a guitar skittering in like it’s shaking off chains or rust. Then, the kickdrums go on a total blitz. Eventually, the same guitar lines from earlier return but are significantly stretched out to make them crushing rather than simply attacking. The song barrels toward some open chugging and, then, BAM, there’s that same passage the song opened with to bring it all to a close. There’s one primary riff that morphs into multiple modes and versions, making it more effective in a variety of ways. Then again, the band is fine ramming through multiple riffs and styles in less than three minutes with thrash burners like “Victory Is Mine,” which features some lovely whammy-loving divebomb action.
All in all, this is a departure from what I would’ve expected from the band based on their previous release, but it’s not one coming out of left field. Principality of Mechanical Violence is more of an exercise in focusing on specific elements of what the band does well to make a leaner, more direct experience. Some may miss the atmosphere of prior albums, but there’s still plenty of killer music to get behind with album number four.
