Band : Indricothere
Album : Indricothere
Release Year : 2008
Genre : Progressive | Metal | Experimental
Tracklist :
1. II
2. V
3. IV
4. I
5. III
Indricothere is Colin Marston (Krallice, Dysrhythmia, Behold… the Arctopus, Gorguts). The sole recordings that make up the Indricothere LP were tracked on a computer in a dorm room when Colin was in college, long before his time in any of the aforementioned bands.
To say that there’s a lot to take in over the album’s 5 tracks (with the longest topping out at 9:28) would be a gross understatement. Some of this stuff makes current math-metal stalwarts like The Dillinger Escape Plan look staid and conventional by comparison. Indricothere scrambles between what seems like an endless succession of churning, hyperspeed riffs (usually death, but there are some thrashy bits scattered through) and slow, crumbling stomps. Strains of other genres occasionally rocket to the surface of the maelstrom, whether it’s the loops of mutating prog at the core of track 4, or the dreamlike acoustic folk that ripples through track 5. But mostly, this is just relentless, channel-surfing brutality, and everything is performed at an insane level of precision (or a precise level of insanity). The production is terrific, allowing each of the elements to stand on their own even as they try to out-spaz each other.
Impressive as it is, this is kind of thing that will either enthrall you with its ingenuity, or annoy you with its capriciousness. As with most heavily fragmented technical metal, the more you put into it, the less jarring and erratic it will become (expect many many listens to get to that point). However, I do think there is a line between unpredictability and just plain chaos, and this brings up a larger question of what actually defines a song. To bring up an example, I think this year’s Gigan release, while also sharing Indricothere‘s dissonant, volatile psychosis, knew when to pull away and let a song breathe, so that it became easier to “chunk” into memory. You’ll have a harder time doing that with this release. I suppose the easiest solution is just to liken this to jazz, and while nothing here directly smacks of that genre, it does share its protean, self-referencing creativity.
2. V
3. IV
4. I
5. III
Indricothere is Colin Marston (Krallice, Dysrhythmia, Behold… the Arctopus, Gorguts). The sole recordings that make up the Indricothere LP were tracked on a computer in a dorm room when Colin was in college, long before his time in any of the aforementioned bands.
To say that there’s a lot to take in over the album’s 5 tracks (with the longest topping out at 9:28) would be a gross understatement. Some of this stuff makes current math-metal stalwarts like The Dillinger Escape Plan look staid and conventional by comparison. Indricothere scrambles between what seems like an endless succession of churning, hyperspeed riffs (usually death, but there are some thrashy bits scattered through) and slow, crumbling stomps. Strains of other genres occasionally rocket to the surface of the maelstrom, whether it’s the loops of mutating prog at the core of track 4, or the dreamlike acoustic folk that ripples through track 5. But mostly, this is just relentless, channel-surfing brutality, and everything is performed at an insane level of precision (or a precise level of insanity). The production is terrific, allowing each of the elements to stand on their own even as they try to out-spaz each other.
Impressive as it is, this is kind of thing that will either enthrall you with its ingenuity, or annoy you with its capriciousness. As with most heavily fragmented technical metal, the more you put into it, the less jarring and erratic it will become (expect many many listens to get to that point). However, I do think there is a line between unpredictability and just plain chaos, and this brings up a larger question of what actually defines a song. To bring up an example, I think this year’s Gigan release, while also sharing Indricothere‘s dissonant, volatile psychosis, knew when to pull away and let a song breathe, so that it became easier to “chunk” into memory. You’ll have a harder time doing that with this release. I suppose the easiest solution is just to liken this to jazz, and while nothing here directly smacks of that genre, it does share its protean, self-referencing creativity.
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