Converge
Halo in a Haystack

Try asking Nate Newton, bassist of the band being reviewed, where to inhale lysergic fumes and throw spinning blades in the vast desolate lands of the planet Dune, so as to have free apocalyptic visions; he, thanks to these things, in 1999, along with other madmen, created Old Man Gloom … and if this is Hardcore, let it be violent, otherwise what kind of Hardcore is it?

After spending four years cutting their teeth (getting experience), with independent/self-produced releases, in 1994 the guys finally caught the right attention of Earthmaker Records; to which they pitched their deviations and manic depressive psychosis by passing them off as angry stage art, namely "Halo in a Haystack".

The gentlemen mentioned above, who in generosity wouldn't even have anything to envy Santa Claus (see their splendid discography), initially presented themselves with drier sounds, far from the mathcore (il)logics, the latter structured on stochastic rhythmic sections and intricate scores that currently exalt the group, authoritatively placing them among the sacred monsters of the genre, post-Hardcore/MathCore, you choose; fifteen years ago, however, this young band already had the talent they now demonstrate, something like “the boys will make it…”

On the cover, we find a young Jacob Bannon engaged in one of his usual possessed performances, driven by the usual self-destructive emotional delusions.

A cover that is very hardcore underground and “always broke”, classic in punk style; different from those published, for example, in 2001, with the Jane Doe project, where we will be delighted by the artistic polyhedricity of the frontman, splendid fucking psychedelic works reminiscent of Corrado Roi (truly, even a few years before Bannon exhibited his drawings on the cover, but they sucked, so we don't even bother with them, you know?), at the same time, indicative of that artistic evolution, founding the current sound structure of the band, harsher and wilder, see the latest Axe to Fall (2009).

Ready nonetheless to evolve, sneaking toward new sonic shores, thus we have a more raw project, with traits of a sound reminiscent of/to some degree/just enough of Entombed and bands like Negative Approach, Discharge (well, yes!), Black Flag & Co., presenting significant sonic aggressiveness but less constrained, perhaps more logical/lucid and less paranoid.

A Hardcore skillfully seasoned with sometimes noise, nostalgic sounds, your mother in underwear, colorful …savored! at times, by a skillful and precise jazz fusion, deftly interlaced as if to cushion dissonance and wild sound; all a tone above, aiming to acquire its own identity, reformed upon a strong compositional command, in the even more tormented and corrosive voice of B(r???)annon, ready to insert itself with precise mastery, like a sniper.

An album not to be underestimated, to be listened to attentively, with your ear close to the speakers, or in an empty room, or at night suddenly when everyone is asleep.

Apparently less complex, yet still aggressive, with great scenic impact, yours when you dance on it, and sonic, the neighbors who will complain; whose empathy is indicative of that talent, mind your own business bastards, distinctive of the band's future productions; enough to excite fans of the genre.