Meshuggah
Immutable

Swedes have never been prolific. From their first intense musical beginnings in the late eighties, they have reached their ninth long-distance album with Immutable. A full six years since the previous one: never has there been such a long gap between one work and another. As I mentioned in a recent review, the title chosen by the quintet is emblematic, direct, explanatory: nothing changes, nothing will ever change in the uncompromising "barrage" they create. They are practically slaves to their own sound; imprisoned and curled up without conceding, except for some very rare acoustic moments which somehow turn out to be the only novelty of an otherwise complex album, offering breath or respite. Claustrophobic, extremely technical to the point of exhaustion but at the same time too minimalistic and predictable for those who have always known Meshuggah. But I cannot, I will never be able to change my opinion about them; I will never be able not to give the band an excellent rating. I am mesmerized by their expressive power, guided as always by the excessively torn and monotone voice (but which is perfect for the syncopated groove erected by his colleagues) of Jens Kidman. Two guitars tuned ever lower, to erect the usual glacial mountain ranges impossible to cross. But the real driving force of an album that exceeds an hour in duration is the psychotic drumming at the hands (but are we sure he only has two!?!) of Tomas Haake. Asynchronous, poly-rhythmic timing in continuous evolution-revolution; when you think you've memorized the flow of a track, suddenly everything changes, shifts... and they pave you over once more... There are three instrumental tracks that further highlight the uniqueness of a sound among the most recognizable in all of heavier Metal of the last three decades. There’s no need to point out individual tracks today and I need nothing else for the highest ratings.

Ad Maiora.