While
we definitely appreciate and respect all the great music that postman
Sal brings to the Ripple, every once in a while, the Pope and I get a
little excited when something near and dear to our hearts crosses the
transom. Pope felt that way with the latest Prong
remix offering, bouncing across our desks for days like an amped up ADD
child on a sugar high. Me, well, that's the way I felt when OSI's new disc, Blood, landed across my keyboard.
For those who aren't familiar, OSI isn't really so much a group, as it is a collaboration between guitarist, keyboardist, composer Jim Matheos (Fates Warning) and vocalist, keyboardist, composer Kevin Moore (Dream Theater). While those credentials will certainly conjure up a certain type of flourishing, technical prog metal, be prepared. OSI sounds
nothing like you may expect from the lineage alone. Bringing in huge
amounts of synths and industrial metal vibes, adding in the ambiance of
Pink Floyd and an ear towards the crunch of nu metal and the compositions of Radiohead, each song OSI
creates is composed by the guys sending ideas back and forth through
email. Perhaps it's because of this creative process, or in spite of
it, that OSI sounds wholly like it's own technical creation.
And on those lines, Blood
is the perfect name for this techno terror of a prog metal album.
Despite the heavy mechanization of industrial guitars. Minimoog
effects, and synthesized sounds, human blood pulses through this album,
synchronizing with the mechanical synthetic aspects of the music,
creating something a kin to a musical cyborg; part human, part machine.
Industrial, mechanical, yet infused with warmth and life.
The
first track "The Escape Artist," highlights this dichotomy right off
the bat. Beginning with an ominous, dissonant, synthesized tone, gentle
guitars layer on top, hearkening to some futuristic world as the
keyboards bring on swirls of sci-fi washes. Next the drums come on like
a mechanical heart beat, building until the full aggression of the
industrial riff blasts out like a space ship afterburner, spewing smoke
and fire like some terminator cyborg of the not-so-distant future.
Kevin Moore's vocals, rarely rising above a hushed tone, add the
perfect touch to the vibe, remaining cool and distant, but hinting at
an underlying emotion. As far as guitar riffs go, this one's a
charging, bringing on images of some post-apocalyptic, futuristic
battlefield. Joined on this album by Porcupine Tree
drummer Gavin Harrison, the percussion, aided by programming, is
remarkable, hammering in polyrhythmic attacks through the
stop-and-start riffing. The mid-song breakdown to laser-like synth
tones sounds like the call of replacements to the battlefield, before
the guitar solo sears out, blazing like rockets soaring over the
fallen. As intense an opener as the genre as seen in a while.
But
what makes the album so impressive is the dynamics; the alternating of
the moments of sheer savage power, with equally adept passages of
near-ambient, meditative beauty. "Terminal," percolates out next,
barely rising above a whisper. Pulsing synthesizers weave back and
forth between the speakers setting the melancholy tone for the intro.
Whereas, "The Escape Artist," thrust us right into the heat of battle,
"Terminal," is the lull after the storm, a moment of peace, of
reflection. Perfect command of melody, beautiful guitar tones, and
impeccable composition soothe the battered soul, leading to perhaps the
most memorable chorus on the album. A gorgeous, infinitely listenable
song, clearly one of the best tracks here. The percussion is superb,
carrying the song through it's undulating passages, like a caravan of
bandaged camels carrying supplies across a deserted wasteland.
Now, I gotta say, these analogies are my visions inspired by the music. To my knowledge, Blood
isn't a concept album at all; but the indelible craft of songwriting,
the impassioned alternating of power and beauty, added to the feeling
of a warm human body amidst the flourishes of technology, bring these
visions to my mind. As if the music itself speaks the concept of human
melding with technology, not so much the lyrics of the songs
themselves. That said, the album works best for me as whole, not a
breakdown of individual tracks.
But
back to the tracks, "False Start," rages next, terrorizing on the back
of as heavy a prog metal riff as you'll hear, and certainly the
heaviest track OSI have recorded. This track brings on the clash of our
cyborg warfare, cresting on the intensity of a fierce industrial beat
and a crushingly heavy detuned, synthesized guitar. This is the sound
of two robotic armies engaged, full warfare with no prisoners taken.
Mean and aggressive and demanding.
Continuing with our
alternating dynamics, "We Come Undone," brings the tone back down, a
song of pure atmosphere, playing like some futuristic classical
composition, synths replacing acoustic stringed instruments. Perhaps
more than anywhere else, this song is representative of the album as a
whole, a declaration of the eternal war between humans and technology.
Warmth somehow managing to find it's way through the mechanical soul of
the synthesizers and programmed beats, the most processed song here.
Then, flowing without pause, "Radiologue," brims out next, the most Pink Floyd-esque
composition here. A lush guitar tone brings this song right back down
to human realm. Synths swirl in elevating circles, elevating the song,
arousing the spirit. Another perfect melody and understated vocal
performance keep this song rooted in flesh and blood, not technology.
While
I could go on about all the songs here, like the return to savage
riffing of "Be The Hero," or the processed noise-gram of "Microburst
Alert," the one track that absolutely needs special mention is
Stockholm. Co-written and guest lead vocals by Mikael Akerfeldt of Opeth.
Mikael's voice is angelic here, proving just how underated a vocalist
he is. A ghostly compostion, the song drifts in a muted acoustic guitar
fog for the first third, keyboars picking up the pace for the middle
passage, until the unexpected fury of crushing guitars seals the song's
ending. Hauntingly beautiful.
On this, their third album, OSI
have experimented with tone and texture, creating a hybrid of flesh and
technology, blood and mechanism. Not a prog album of stunning time
shifts, flourishes of technical mastery, or flashes of classical
composition, rather, it is a wholly insular creation, an album that
lives and breathes within itself, telling a story by it's very tone and
nuance. Whispering rather than shouting.
Remarkable indeed.
--Racer
Taken from
http://ripplemusic.blogspot.com/2009/06/osi-blood.html