NEW ALBUM REVIEW: Trivium, “What The Dead Men Say”
Alright, kids, time for a story. What do you mean you’re “busy”? No one’s “busy” right now (except for medical workers, delivery drivers, postal carriers, grocery store workers, etc, who are not only busy but are damned H E R O E S), sit your ass down. Time to go back into the past, 15 whole years, to an era of innocence and hope.
As a budding rock music enthusiast (how do you do, fellow kids?), I once upon a time ended up with an account for a now-defunct music service called LAUNCHcast, a Yahoo! property that paved the way for a market of “you liked X, you might like Y” streaming services that would eventually be dominated by Pandora. LAUNCHcast differed in that it offered a continuous stream of music videos, in an era when MTV was winding down what little music programming it still had. I would log in, go to my personalized stream based off of what I had responded to and let the algorithm riddle me with Hoobastank and Crossfade and whatever other Bands of the Month were in rotation for alternative/rock kids like me. At this time I had started to respond to a smattering of heavier material, usually a legacy act like Metallica or Iron Maiden since more modern acts were too aggressive for my tastes (no screams for me, thank you), but because of this little knack for heavier music, a ghost in the machine woke up.
Every once in a while, a video from one of the heavier bands that wee me had decided was too much would make its way in there. A guy in a red hoodie chased another guy through back alleys and across rooftops. Someone who may or may not have been the Elephant Man sat in a chair surrounded by curious objects. A bunch of bands played what seemed to be the same dingy house party? And each time I saw one of these videos, I appreciated something else about the music I had deemed “too heavy” for me, but ultimately stuck to what I knew. And then one day, I saw it.
A furious barrage of tom-toms and double-kicks (baby’s first drum solo? perhaps), a stage awash in red light, ripping twin guitar solos, a frontman with either severe back issues or some genetic pedigree shared with a fried shrimp, and, amidst it all, a pallid, grotesquely flexible man painting what would be revealed as a fallen angelic figure. While many bands did and continue to do this, Trivium’s “Pull Harder on the Strings of Your Martyr” was the first example of modern metal music I had heard that took everything I loved about the classics and combined it with the growing current of musical aggression I had been missing in such a way as to entice me forward, rather than push me backward. From that moment on, I was hooked.
Now, a decade and a half has passed and one of my favorite bands throughout my lifetime are releasing their ninth studio album, What The Dead Men Say. Drummers have revolved, postures have improved, and sounds have evolved to bring us in 2020 a Trivium that continues to acknowledge the greatness of the past while pushing relentlessly into their future.
Following up 2017’s ambitious and monumental The Sin And The Sentence, WTDMS delivers a refined synthesis of Trivium’s evolving sound over the past 17 years since their debut release, Ember to Inferno. For a band whose name means the intersection of disciplines of studies, the multiple parts that make up the sum whole of Trivium are perhaps no more evident than on this lean, mean, multifaceted release. The metalcore that characterized Ember or breakout album Ascendancy? It’s here. The throwback thrash and NWOBHM-isms that defined The Crusade and later Silence In The Snow? Yup. The grandiose progressive musicianship of Shogun? It may have been dialed down to reduce the number of seven-plus-minute songs, but it’s definitely there. The dissonant and groovy elements that showed up on In Waves and Vengeance Falls? Oh, yes. All these previous influences and manifestations meet headlong with the sense of occult majesty exhibited on TSATS to create something that is a distillation of what fans of the band have come not only to expect, but to hope for over the past two decades.
Lead single “Catastrophist” is probably the best example of this synthesis, with its seamless transition from its chunky intro riff to a moody verse chorus to an upbeat pre-chorus and hook that is nothing short of anthemic. Add in a progressive breakdown and an absolutely blistering blastbeat-laden bridge, and you have a “best of Trivium” track. The band also shows this “one foot in the past, one foot in the future” approach on “The Defiant.” The core DNA of this track is the exact type of Gothenburg-influenced metalcore songwriting that marked much of Ascendancy, but this core gives way to a dizzying chorus marked by frontman Matt Heafy’s matured and expanded vocal range, displaying a command of his honed delivery that the always gifted singer simply didn’t have 15 years ago.
Other offerings on the 10-track (or nine, plus an intro) release tend to lean one of two ways from this balanced ideal: either toward black metal-tinged ferocity, or into the more melodic. The title track, for example, roots off of a swaggering main riff into a blazing display of neoclassical-tinged speed buoyed by a behemoth of a chorus. The roster of heavy hitters is rounded out by the groove metal assault of “Among the Shadows and the Stones,” the refreshingly dissonant and pummeling “Bending the Arc to Fear,” and “My Sickness Unto You,” which I can only describe as something that blends the eerie ferocity of blackened death metal with the emotional vulnerability of a ballad to incredible effect, with a surprising (but not unwelcome) flirtation with latin jazz.
On the more melodic side of things, we have “Bleed Into Me,” a straightforward bass and vocal driven crusher that is primed for arena singalongs, and “Scattering the Ashes.” The latter has proven for me to be something a standout track, in part due to its composition being reminiscent of the infectious “Dying In Your Arms” from Ascendancy combined with the best anime theme you haven’t heard yet. Something about the song’s dramatic melody and soaring vocal lines (featuring impeccable harmonies by bassist Paolo Gregoletto) entices you to put it on repeat.
A band that has always been marked by their technical musicianship, each member of Trivium shines on this release. Gregoletto’s basslines are deft and provide either solid bedrock for the other instruments, tasteful accents to add flair to passages, or spine-tingling tension. The guitar work of both Heafy and co-guitarist Corey Beaulieu is characterized by precise riffs, tasteful melodic lines, ripping leads, and perfectly-executed harmonized leads. And then there’s Alex Bent. Trivium’s music is something that demands a lot of its drummers, so to even keep up one has to be dexterous and durable. This established, I say with no hesitation (and all the respect due to his predecessors) that Bent is the best drummer Trivium has ever had, and one of the finest drummers in metal today. While it’s something of a running gag on the band’s social media that Bent is perpetually on his way out in some fashion or another (a la Spinal Tap), I sincerely hope that this second outing with him is simply the beginning of a long career with Trivium. Every track showcases his technical ability and knack for tasteful cymbal flourishes, but look no further than than the percussive onslaught of album closer “The Ones We Leave Behind.”
Vocally, the combined attack of Heafy on both harsh and clean vocals, Beaulieu backing him up with a distinct roar, and Gregoletto’s ethereal upper register makes this one of the most fully-realized outings in the band’s catalogue. Heafy’s struggles to maintain his vocal health are well-documented, but the long-term mastery he displayed on TSATS has only grown on WTDMS, as he has added to his already formidable arsenal of operatic cleans and signature screams a newer gritty, raspy delivery that sits right in the middle. I’m unsure of the technical terms to describe the technique, but I can say that it sounds like impassioned and liberated belting; the sound of someone who has reclaimed their voice and knows how to push it to its limits.
In short (ha), What The Dead Men Say builds off the foundation established by its predecessor. What we’re seeing is Trivium as a group of musicians who know their strengths, know the road they’ve traveled to get to where they are, but are not satisfied with formula or complacency. Everytime they seem to reach a peak, they find a new height to climb.
