Voivod
Phobos

"Phobos" is not the best work by Voivod, nor the one that best represents them. However, it is a huge work, often underrated (or worse, not evaluated at all), but its intrinsic value is undeniable. A value that is further enhanced today when considering the period in which this album was released (back in the year 1997) and the post-hardcore drift that would soon engulf the metal universe.

"Negatron," the first album without Denis Belanger behind the microphone, marked a return to the violence and heaviness of their earliest works, causing more perplexity than enthusiasm. Both due to the abrupt and unexpected stylistic reversal and the rather anonymous vocals of the new singer Eric Forrest. With "Phobos," I must say, the fortunes of the band are definitely revived, demonstrating they still have plenty to say. Although stylistically the album in question does not stray much from its mediocre predecessor, in terms of ingenuity and compositional creativity, it takes us straight back to the great heights of the past.

First, the good old Korgull (here renamed Anark) is resurrected, becoming the protagonist of a new and unlikely adventure after a slumber that lasted quite a number of years and three albums. The concept formula returns, therefore, but above all, the magic/madness of Voivod's composition returns in its most claustrophobic and visionary form (it's significant that the opening track "Rise" reprises a theme present in "Nothingface"). It's not a simple recycling, however, but a reinterpretation of the past through an enriched experiential legacy.

The winning weapon of "Phobos" is the achievement of the perfect balance between compositional complexity and capacity for synthesis. Whereas masterpieces like "Dimension Hatross" and the already mentioned "Nothingface" can at times appear dispersive due to their constant and bewildering mutations, and works like "Angel Rat" and "The Outer Limits" by contrast end up being too linear (which does not mean banal, let's be clear!), in this "Phobos" dynamism and unpredictability are expertly balanced by a renewed awareness of their expressive capabilities. In other words, every single idea is here enhanced and rightly highlighted, every progression carefully controlled, every strike successfully landed (whereas in the past good ideas could lose their incisiveness precisely because they were diluted among a thousand less convincing ones).

Voivod's music is no longer a mad spaceship darting uncontrollably in all directions allowed by deep space. Voivod's music is now the genetic mutation of a giant space octopus that will relentlessly crush the hapless listener in its enormous steel and electric wire tentacles. A devastating wall of sound, given by gigantic riffs, disorienting effects, and a learned layering of guitars that mimic the overwhelming wave of a planet's explosion, or the concentric spirals of a black hole about to suck you away forever. Refractions of sounds, echoes, reverberations, gurgles, monstrous blasts that make us think of the good Denis D'Amour's hand expertly traversing a effects pedalboard at least fifteen meters long. The engaging drumming of Michel Langevin, always ready to launch into imaginative ideas, but also to pound as needed, or at least enough to give the product the right compactness and power. The phlegmatic bass and Forrest's effected howl, which, while unable to match Belanger's versatility, wisely inculcates the shouted attitude typical of hardcore (which will become standard in the years to come) within the alienated and surreal context that has always reigned at Voivod's house.

What emerges, as I said at the beginning, is something extremely current, that definitively abandons the '80s sound where Voivod's art was forged, and even anticipates the sounds of bands like Cult of Luna, soon to explode. But while the neurotic drifts of post-hardcore rest on ragged guitars and dispersion of notes, Voivod demonstrate perfect control of their sonic matter, showing a progressive rigor unknown to the new generations of fiery metal: the progressions of King Crimson, the early Pink Floyd’s space psychedelia, Van Der Graaf Generator's disorienting atmospheres here converge harmoniously, and are updated to unprecedented metallic violence standards. And a warning to fans of '70s progressive: you will be sorely disappointed if you expect something resembling the music of the aforementioned artists because Voivod, unlike some trendy bands that define themselves as metal-prog, do not recycle, but assimilate, they appropriate the lessons of the greats from the past, and sound 1000% Voivod!

"Phobos" is, in fact, a singular claustrophobic and frightening journey (the tracks are seamlessly connected) in which there will be no shortage of thrash-core assaults ("Rise"), punk outbursts ("Mercury"), dizzying hyperspace escapes ("Phobos"), magmatic noise lava flows ("Bacteria"), moments of quiet floating in the void ("Temps Mort"), wonky metal-prog architectures ("Forlorn"). And die-hard fans of Fripp and company will have to console themselves with the concluding cover of King Crimson's "21st Century Schizoid Man" (one of the two bonus tracks included here: the other is "M-Body", featuring Jason Newsted still with Metallica at the time).

In short, if you loved Voivod for albums like "Angel Rat" and "The Outer Limits," stay well away from this "Phobos." But if among your favorite pastimes is blowing your mind with high psycho-emotional disturbance experiences, then don't be a snob, don't give up on real music, the truly creative and brilliant one, and inject this shot of liquid and corrosive steel straight into your veins!