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This is the story of a band relegated to its small town in southern Louisiana, far from New Orleans and far from the rest of the world; it's a story of good musicians, great music, and much existential pain. No one seems to remember this band, the brainchild of singer Dax Riggs, who in my opinion is one of the most eclectic and talented in the Punk/Metal scene. Born as a Death/Grind band, they managed to earn a small local following after an unpleasant and demanding apprenticeship: after evolving their sound by extending it in various directions, they obtained a hard-won contract with the California label Rotten Sounds, which, however, did not earn them the success they deserved. After some works, the first of which was released in 1991, the group released "When The Kyte String Pops": it was 1994.
Talking about influences when reviewing such a personal band is not only a risk but also an insult to people who truly had a lot of ideas and things to say: however, one cannot help but notice some analogies with their fellow Louisianans Eyehategod and in general with all of Sludge and Post Hardcore; despite this, they have developed a highly original style, light years away from any label. Each piece is a mix of different genres, among which one might stand out more than others (be it Grind or Hardcore); in short, on paper, everyone should be satisfied a bit, but in harsh reality Acid Bath remains illustrious unknowns.
The Grind base is mainly noticeable technically: the members are indeed equipped with very good preparation, rarely found in Sludge groups. The difficulty of some passages brings them closer, even, to the virtuosity of some Death Metal bands, although the type of music played remains quite distant (except for some passages where the "origins" can be felt). The rhythm section, in particular, adopts very difficult solutions: the technicalities often pass unnoticed, without overly astonishing, but a keen ear will catch plenty. The tempos are indeed highly varied, as is the proposed genre: in the quieter pieces, the drumming is sweet, almost lulling, but in the harder piece, it can become the most furious outburst of a Grind group: in short, there is an alternation between smooth parts and real sonic massacres. There are also moments closer to Doom (very slow and rhythmic) drawn from Crowbar, and highly melodic pieces that recall Neurosis. From here, you should already understand what these guys are capable of doing, namely using their instruments as they please without pigeonholing themselves into just one genre.
The guitar parts follow the line described above: an embarrassing variety. From psychedelic arpeggios, they move to twin guitars classically Death Metal and then emerge in the rough openings typical of Post Hardcore. The bass holds its own with the other musicians, although it is perhaps the instrument where the Metal influence is most felt. A special note of merit goes to the singer: this man manages to navigate between screaming, clean parts, and growling seamlessly, and his voice wonderfully adapts to singing any genre. It is warm in pieces rich in melody, sickly in the more distressing songs, corrosive when it’s time to surrender to anger and despair: a truly rare versatility. The production is perhaps not ready to follow all the shifts in the various compositions, so those that come out favored are the more violent ones, while the others might be rendered better.
Therefore, you understand that defining this music is not only very difficult but also, to clarify the ideas, I'll risk "boxing" in a Kantian "pure form a priori" this group, distorting what it intends to be and what it actually is. However, Acid Bath is not only endowed with a great musical taste that leads them to research and experiment (like Naked City, for example), but they also manage to be extremely communicative: in this regard, I invite you to read their delirious lyrics, intimate and of such decadence and despair as to evoke real, chilling emotions. Therefore, the mood also proves to be heterogeneous and perhaps for this reason better suited to describe the human soul: all the feelings flow with the songs, linked only by the thin thread of the most total and nihilistic pessimism. The mental confusion is quelled by the contemplation of a decaying world, from which it is advisable to stay distant and in which only disappointing realities are contained. In truth, the delicacy of some songs, the immediacy of others almost Southern Rock, and the exasperation of others still, prevent me from objectively describing the mood of this LP. What is certain is that it is not the intention of our artists to paint relaxed atmospheres: even in melodic songs, a certain vein of melancholy and a constantly wandering mental state ruin what could have been salvaged.
"When The Kyte String Pops" is a record that changes with each listen and which, like liquids, cannot be grasped: such an extravagant and composite offering paradoxically manages to follow the same path not so much for the way of playing, which is at the service of their brilliance, but for the feelings they manage to generate. The group seems definitively dissolved following the death of the bassist in an accident, but what they did in the past deserves attention: it is not a mere encyclopedia of musical genres, it is much more.
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