Anacrusis
Manic Impressions

THE REVIEW

There is a scene, in the old Buster Keaton comedy ''The General,'' that I find incredibly fitting to describe the early '90s Thrash scene. In that film, Keaton is a Southern engineer in the midst of the Civil War trying to recover his locomotive hijacked by a group of Union spies. During a memorable sequence, he even manages to drive another engine to chase the Northerners, frantically chopping wood to fuel the train, unaware of how far he was venturing. Now, imagine the surprise when, after all his efforts, he realizes he has stumbled into foreign territory, behind enemy lines.

That's the same astonishment felt by all those bands that, slavishly, followed a musical path leading them into the arms of the enemy, (un)knowingly representing, like the Southerners, only a small opposition. Anacrusis had more in common with Buster than might immediately seem evident; realizing the impasse (right after their fierce debut ''Suffering Hour'' in 1988), they did not sit around waiting for death to claim them but tried to react with well-honed weapons, reinventing themselves with a clear purpose: to become the standard-bearers of Technical Thrash Metal. And so it was that, leaving behind the Punk influences and the disjointed structures of ''Reason'' (1990) in favor of some kind of dramatic grandeur, ''Manic Impressions'' came to our rough ears in 1991, their darkest and most cursed diamond.

The aftertaste this platter leaves is truly fascinating: the rhythm guitars feature scooped mid frequencies, and the distortion tone is jagged and sharp; this sound identity makes the melodies definitely distinctive yet overall subdued. It is therefore the drums and bass that dominate: the former with a crystalline and cold work (Chad Smith), the latter thanks to John Emery’s dreamy figures and psychedelic vibes, reminiscent of Roger Waters' sophistication. But it's the voice of leader Kenni Nardi that amazes more than anything else; how many Thrash bands can boast being recognizable within seconds? Slayer? Voivod? Celtic Frost? Well: the alternation between reverberated and melancholic moans (reminiscent of the early Goth/Doom releases of those times) and chilling screams create a sensation of disorientation mixed with wonder that is truly unique.

Anacrusis retains their primal fury but put it in the service of a markedly heartfelt aspect, with a balanced use of choirs and clean guitars. ''Manic Impressions'' gives little space to feelings of hope; there is the sound of adolescent rebellion, disappointment in institutions, religion, society (the biting sarcasm of ''I Love The World'' and ''Something Real'' demonstrate this amply). Despite the disillusioned vibes the album emanates, there is also room for moments of relief: the speed of ''Dream Again'' or the intensity of a ''Paint A Picture'' show how, in certain circumstances, even headbanging can overcome the depression quotient.

To this day, I am utterly in love with these crazy Americans. I remain fascinated by their eccentricity, their audacity, their willingness to transcend the thought that public opinion might have formed about what they were undertaking. In ''The General,'' Buster Keaton doesn’t always act in the best way, but his inability to throw in the towel before achieving his goal is absolutely commendable; similarly, Anacrusis may never have composed a masterpiece, it's true, but each of their releases appears different from the previous one, always better, proudly authentic.

Do not make the mistake of casually listening to something on the web as you might do for dozens of other bands in the genre. ''Manic Impressions'' must be listened to, inhaled, and sublimated multiple times. Embrace its lesson on the value of perseverance and, if you wish, regret it.