Beats and yelling: Nocturnus AD’s overreach

Unicursal
Out 17^th May on Profound Lore Records

Typifying the complex legacy of extreme metal’s founding canon, Mike Browning’s presence can be felt in the very primordial soup of the genre for his early contributions to Morbid Angel, but better known as the imagination of Nocturnus, and by extension, the pivot to sci-fi futurism within death metal (something anticipated in the late thrash of DBC, Voivod, Watchtower et al.).

But Nocturnus were an imperfect beast. The high concept material never reached fruition. Whilst many are quick to point to Browning’s clunky abilities behind the kit, Louis Panzer’s lacklustre keyboard work failed to match the hype of his being the first fulltime keyboardist in a death metal context. Further, the technical depth boasted by Davis and McNenney’s dual guitar attack failed to match the natural, flowing panache of their peers, remaining stunted and unnatural thanks to the odd segregation between intricate licks and meaty riffcraft.  

But there was enough charisma and novelty behind their two best known albums to garner a reputation. One prominent enough to be worthy of resurrection come the new wave of OSDM. Of all the belated comebacks however, Browning’s remained truest to the original spirit of those halcyon days in the early 1990s. Both ‘Unicursal’ and ‘Paradox’ may be dense, slick, confident when compared to the stuttering ‘Thresholds’ or the unchecked madness of ‘The Key’, but they still embody a childlike enthusiasm, stretching across this material thanks in part to Browning’s unapologetically detailed narrative concepts.

‘Unicursal’ follows in much the same vein as its predecessor, with theatrical flare bordering on symphonic death metal. But for all the ambition, timbral range, compositional care, and storytelling, there’s a lurking – and refreshing – amateurism behind this material lacking in other contemporary works from artists of a similar vintage.

The production is oddly muffled. Instruments lack the crystalline cut through now generally regarded as a birth rite on modern mixes. Whilst there’s no denying the balance between depth and clarity, the listener still feels once removed from events as instruments bleed into one another, and the punchy clarity of drums and staccato riffing fails to make any impact. In the current grave of character that is contemporary metal, I find this patchy mix deeply refreshing.

Browning’s drumming, whilst undeniably improved since the days of ‘The Key’, is far from vaulting in its ability. Whilst he can maintain a blast-beat with a semblance of consistency, the music still has to pause for him to work out a fill, as if he’s deciding its duration and contours on the fly, leaving the other musicians to clumsily meander around a certain refrain before they are permitted to move onto the next theme. This makes certain pauses particularly pronounced, shaping the topography of the music into stilted, jarring turns rarely seen in death metal today.

Sticking with Browning, the vocals are proving to be a bone of contention amongst fans, as he slowly abandons distorted techniques entirely for a kind of aggressive spoken word narrative. That, combined with the sheer volume of lyrics he tasked himself with, brings the overall tone closer to rap than many may be comfortable with. The main theme on ‘Mesolithic’ leaves an odd taste in the mouth as Browning follows the rhythmic patterns of the riffs but adopts a kind of angry story time posture. The pronounced American accent also becomes somewhat tiresome from this side of the Atlantic.

However, it should again be emphasised just how refreshing many of these choices are. In an age where professionalism is the norm, amateurism becomes an aesthetic, a stylistic affectation one can choose to switch on and off as needed. Gone are the days of necessity exemplified by a Quorthon or Tom G. Warrior, whose most iconic works were defined by overactive imaginations battling to overcome the physical limitations of their abilities, resulting in music as captivating as it was strangely vulnerable. It gives cause for joy that even at this late stage, Browning is rekindling this uncaring adolescent enthusiasm within the heart of death metal.

That being said, Heftel and Koblak deliver a cornucopia of delights as far as riffs, lead melodies, and engaging tangents are concerned. Equally, Josh Holdren proves to be a much better fit for articulating the death synth USP, offering patches ranging from the cheesy to the creative, knowing when to lean into or pull back from pure pastiche. This maintains the unique position Nocturnus still hold within the zeitgeist. It would have been so easy to cover the jagged riffing with layers of dense legato string chords and ambient fudge. Instead he attempts to get up in the riffs themselves, interject with his own licks, melodic lines, and disruptive accents. Something attempted by Panzer back in the day but never quite fulfilling its promise. The greater knowledge and nuance required to bring this style of keyboard to bear in such a guitar dense setting is perhaps why this approach is remarkably rare in metal, despite the respect doled out to Nocturnus as trailblazers. Limiting keyboards to flavour and bookends remains an industry standard.

It’s not all sun and roses however. ‘Unicursal’ has its fair share of generic thrash riffs. Moments where the band feel like they are playing for time. Given the length of this album (nearly an hour), one can almost hear the compromises made in the studio, as each musician probably demanded space for their own ideas within each piece, with some tracks simply consisting of too many elements to maintain coherence. It’s not a unique problem, but take note that even Browning’s unapologetically ambitious sci-fi prog concept metal is not exempt from my constant demand for brevity.  

There is a clumsy charm to this album that is almost anachronistic. The modern scene, for all the paralysing romanticism it bestows on the era that witnessed ‘The Key’ and ‘Thresholds’, doesn’t want metal to sound like this anymore. Ambition must exist within the confines of an artist’s ability. And ability itself, professionalism, both technical and technological, is expected in much higher degrees than ever before. Artists, however creative, must always be in control of their products, nothing left to chance, no happy accidents or vulnerability borne of duff takes, questionable choices, or poor performances. For all the talent present on ‘Unicursal’, there is still that liminal sense that anything can happen, the unwieldy, bloated, busy world of Browning’s high concept sci-fi epics still outstrips the ability to pull it off. In this peripheral space, imaginative music is free to once again draw breath.