For those who have been treading the boards and flipping through record bins since five Filipino cousins got together under the moniker Death Angel back in the ‘80s, there’s a greater potential for having a complex relationship with the band than those fans who came along since its regeneration fifteen years ago. This isn’t so much a reference to the quintet bursting through the shackles of underground thrash metal into the corner offices and expense account world of the majors back in 1990 with Act III; nor is it a reference to their reconvening after time away from Death Angel proper and subsequent activities. From the beginning, and especially during on their second and third albums, this band was generally one that could be counted to be on the cusp of something different, if not outright hurling a wrench into the gears of convention. Even their widely considered classic debut, The Ultra-Violence featured a ten-minute instrumental, which unless you had the socio-musical currency of Metallica, was about as close as you could get to commercial suicide back in the day. This wasn’t because of the short attention spans that plague our populace these days, but because a side of vinyl was temporally limited and if you were going to take up half that available time with a paean to all things riffalicious, you had better be on top of your fucking game and have something worthy of the audacity. There are plenty of examples on Frolic Through the Park of funk and punk making headway into the band’s sound after which they added some off-kilter rock and became balladeers on Act III.
Since stepping back into the spotlight in 2004 with The Art of Dying, that sense of adventure hasn’t been as expansively prominent (neither has the Filipino/familial angle as guitarist Rob Cavestany and vocalist Mark Osegueda are long remaining original members) as there has been more of a focus on diversity within metal and its sub-genres as opposed to trying to introduce foreign bodies into the lab of steel. Sometimes, the microcosmic nitpicking worked (2008’s Killing Season is still an engaging listen), other times it didn’t (the hit-and-miss of 2010’s Relentless Retribution), but if there’s one thing that can be said it’s that second era of Death Angel has been decidedly more full-throttle metal. There are two distinct sides/eras to this band. At the same time, I’ve personally spent appreciably less time with their post-2004 releases than I did when I was a dumb, nerdy teen with enough time on his hands to absorb every second in every groove of their first handful of records. Hardcore fans of the past decade-and-a-half may beg to differ with my above estimation.
The Evil Divide starts off on a nuclear-stamped note of conflagration, that being the frenetic vehemence of “The Moth,” a song that sees the all of its structural elements bubbling over with an energy that borders on fanatical anger. The riffs are a particularly nasty scrape off of vintage Slayer’s skin, Mark Osegueda’s vocals and lyrics are a steaming cauldron of venom and even the backing gang vocals sound like the sort that are pointing you out as you cower in a trash-strewn alley. Still – and this is something Death Angel has generally been excellent at – as white-eyed and rabid as the song is, it’s still got a hummable hook. Equally as incendiary is following tune, “Cause for Alarm,” which ironically enough commences with a riff that could have come from the library of Agnostic Front before powering towards being a shifty shuffler that thrashes like vintage Bay Area stock, albeit freshly showered and scrubbed behind the ears. The stop/start staccato sections inject propulsive energy and the vocals (backing and lead) retain the anger of the album opener.
“Lost” is where we find a move away from the incendiary thrash of the above-mentioned towards a mid-paced clomp that offers a curious combination of NWOBHM, alt-rock/metal and if you listen closely, tinges of sun-kissed Euro doom. Here is an example of the band making what could be considered genre defying moves, though instead of falling down a kitschy wormhole, they keep things recognizable not just for their fans, but also for those heavily into the likes of Candlemass and Diamond Head. As expected, the sort of acrimony showcased on the preceding tracks can’t be lassoed and restrained for too long as it’s back to the tempestuousness with “Hell to Pay” which should stir the loins of anyone who’s of the opinion that Metallica don’t extol the virtues of “Trapped Under Ice” nearly enough as it’s a song with the ability to retain anthemic qualities in the face of blazing speed. The descriptive deal is the same here. The next couple of songs are generally mid-paced chuggers that are kept impassioned via Will Carroll’s flourishing rhythmic sense (having a massive and warm drum sound doesn’t hurt his cause either) and the vice grip that the world, current and personal affairs apparently has Osgeuda’s ballbag in as he continues to deliver what is the most consistently cantankerous performance of his career.
The album’s final third continues with a mostly thrashier approach, but what’s noticeable is how that, despite the musical and vocal apoplexy holding fast, that the hooks don’t seem as sharp and the choruses don’t seem as directionally cogent, especially on “The Electric Cell” which exists as a proverbial deep cut – decent enough song, but one that was probably pieced together at or around the deadline while “Let the Pieces Fall” has a few too many of its tentacles in the world of the NWOAHM for comfort.
So, the take home message here is that The Evil Divide is a seriously angry sounding metal album. It gravitates from fast, blood-boiling thrash to mid-paced thrash, a swing that may not seem so wild on paper, but within the context of the ten songs here, presents noticeable worlds of divergence between song sequences and movements. In addition to everything fans have come to expect from Death Angel – master class riffs, exemplary solos and a shit-hot rhythm section – Mark Osegueda has bevelled much of the ‘Hollywood’ from his vocals in sounding like he’s hurling his invective from a red hot fire pit of challenges and experience. Only time will tell how The Evil Divide stands up against the recognized classics, and how the different generations of fans will take to it, but if there’s one that can be said about the band’s eighth album is that it’s Death Angel at its heaviest yet.
Score: 7.5/10
Sponsored Links from Around the Internet
