Unleashed
Across The Open Sea

We are probably talking about the most foolish and crude band ever to sprout on Swedish soil. And I don't say this to gratuitously disparage the band that good old Johnny Hedlund has been honestly leading since 1989 (so much so that we can't even accuse the unpleasant brute of opportunism, nor of jumping on the death metal bandwagon at the last minute, which back then was still in its infancy).

No, I say this because I hold the Swedish extreme metal in high regard, which, in whatever field it has ventured (from death to doom, to gothic, to black, to prog and its derivatives), has moved honorably, always producing intelligent bands and projects, often a step ahead of many European and American peers.

Unleashed, however, despite being historical, despite being indestructible, remain simpletons, certainly carriers of their own way of seeing death metal, a point of view that probably has left a mark, albeit a faint one, on the vast metallic panorama of recent years (bands like their fellow countrymen Amon Amarth come to mind). Despite all this, Unleashed remain honest musicians, neither infamous nor praiseworthy, as there are many, many others. But as if by magic, as often happens in metal, a band, however mediocre, that continues over the years to produce albums that don’t deviate an inch from their standards, that keeps on going for a couple of decades, just for the sake of enduring, ends up acquiring a sort of status of respect and honorability, a kind of longevity prize, we could say, that often warrants undeserved popularity, regardless of the quality of the music offered.

Unleashed naturally do not shy away from this rule: they have never truly rocked, they've never produced the Album of Life, they've never had a breakthrough that launched them into the public eye (like a techno turn worth talking about for ten minutes). No, Unleashed continue their unstoppable march, they don't retreat a millimeter, they ride their love for the North (generally the domain of their black metal colleagues), perhaps now harvesting a fruitful crop just because they find themselves (and again, not out of opportunism, we repeat) being pushed forward by the unstoppable Viking/pseudo-fantasy fervor increasingly popular among the new generations.

The 1991 debut, "Where No Life Dwells," was a truly good album, full of the furious epicness that pervaded it, even though the band did not exhibit exceptional qualities, either technically or compositionally. From that moment on, there won’t be any great surprises expected from Hedlund & co.: their path will refine over time, the four young men will gain cohesion, they will know how to focus their intentions and identify new solutions from time to time, gradually opening up to melody, but always remaining firmly positioned on the peculiar vitriolic death metal of their beginnings, looking back, rather, never forgetting the ancient Teutonic thrash and the lessons of classic metal (Black Sabbath, Judas Priest, and Venom primarily) and a certain vintage epic-metal, the roughest of Manowar and Manilla Road.

"Across the Open Sea" (a title, a program!) is their third album, released in 1993, following just a year after the still-good second act "Shadows in the Deep." Like its immediate predecessors, "Across the Open Sea" is a good album: catchy, easy to listen to, an album that at the time also had a certain resonance, so much so that I rushed to buy it immediately, though I was a tad disappointed, as I was used to quite different levels of quality (those that death metal knew how to achieve in those years). Perhaps as time passes, an album like this can be reevaluated, as a demonstration of power combined with a certain dose of epicness, naïveté, and icy misery.

The work indeed has its bite, works well on the stereo, and presents all those ingredients that make it an appetizing dish that's never indigestible. In just 37 minutes (the ideal length for an uncomplicated death metal album) we have an opener with serious balls ("To Asgaard We Fly"), the ultra-epic doom-like piece that creates atmosphere ("Open Wide"), the acoustic interlude (the evocative title-track), a couple of killer tracks ("I Am God" and "Execute Them All"), sonic assaults with enviable groove ("The One Insane"), the classic cover you can’t say no to (the Priest-like "Breaking the Law"), and even a pseudo-gothic piece (the limp "Captured," somehow influenced by Tiamat from their fellow countryman, friend, and almost namesake Johan Hedlund).

The tracks move on simple structures (singing/chorus-singing/chorus, etc.), never pushing the accelerator, never indulging in virtuosity, never getting lost in daring time changes; they expand within a limited space between three and four minutes, so as not to bore as the most direct metal demands. Dirty yet clean sounds, a just-right phlegmy growl, buzzing guitars that pleasantly shift from mosquito-like passages to big thrashy breaks and epic rides; a powerful, but never truly potent rhythm section (in short, Lombardo's Slayer is another thing).

To complete the picture, a spot-on cover depicting an indestructible drakkar twisted among the waves and sprays of a raging sea: a happy metaphor for what Unleashed's music ultimately presents itself to our ears!

The lyrics, alas, touch an unheard-of puerility, not helped by middle school English (consider the lyrics of the already mentioned "I Am God" and "The One Insane"), but at least they have the merit of not falling into the typical satanism of old, instead veering towards a healthy anti-Christianity that joyfully goes hand in hand with the myths and legends of the glorious north that once was.

After all, what the hell do we expect? "I like playing this stuff,” good Hedlund, with drool on his chin, might respond to us, as all we can criticize him for is certainly not carrying forward his crusade with passion. After all, Unleashed remain a war machine live, their true dimension, true natural habitat; for this reason, I highly recommend, for those wanting to approach them, the formidable "Live in Vienna '93," a tasty concert that serves as a compendium of the first two albums of their career, perhaps the best thing Our guys have accomplished in their life: those good old genuine concerts of once, recorded live, without many frills, showcasing a muscular and determined band adamantly pursuing their intentions.

At the end of the day, therefore, we can only conclude that the efforts of the Swedish formation deserve respect; not that a significant part of our savings should be poured into the endeavor of owning their entire discography, reserved for only the most die-hard fans...

To Asgaard they fly... whoever loves them, follow them...