Post-metal at its Most Exuberant

It’s no surprise that Crippled Black Phoenix is regularly compared to Godspeed You! Black Emperor. The similarities are manifold: the long, dark, slightly overwrought band name; the clear influences from orchestral and classical music; and the tendency for tracks to be lengthy (seven minutes or more is the norm) affairs that build up to crescendos that crash down on the listener like a tsunami. The paranoid, spoken word intro to the band’s latest offering, Bronze, sounds directly inspired by F#A#∞.

This is unsurprising, given that members of the band used to play with famous groups like Mogwai, who collaborated closely with Godspeed in developing the post-rock standard in the 1990s. Nonetheless, Bronze stakes new territory, offering its listeners an album that is heavier, more electronic, and more experimental than its forebears.

Take the opening pair of tracks, “Dead imperial bastard” and “Deviant burial.” The first is extremely ambient, lulling the listener into a psychedelic catatonia through its consistent electronic drone. A little flute ditty even announces its presence like a single dove flying through an apocalyptic landscape. The basic rhythm of the song never changes, but the ambiance eventually becomes a very Gothic orchestra, with a dark string section leading the listener down the path to Hell.

A creepy flurry of whispers and screeches announces the shift to “Deviant Burial,” and everything falls to controlled chaos and methodical madness. The main electric guitar riff is as catchy as it is aggressive and heavy, and yet the vocal accompaniment is quite soft and pretty. Daniel Änghede’s ability to sing about apocalyptic themes in a way that is intense yet exuberant is reminiscent of Matt Bellamy of Muse.

The whole album is a glorious combination of atmospheric and heavy. Despite the variegated tempos of the different songs, they all flow into each other extremely well. In an era where singles and playlists are the dominant forms of musical consumption, Bronze’s focus on crafting a cohesive album experience is extremely welcome. There are only two cuts that could be classified as slow burners, so the album comes off as two parts hypnosis and three parts roller coaster.

Though every track is compelling, the album hits a scintillating peak halfway through with “Champions of Disturbance, Pt. 1 & 2.” “Champions” is stuffed to the brim with treats for your ear, from a trance-like acid wobble opening, punishing guitar harmonies, gorgeous piano arpeggios, and of course, it all leads up to a crescendo so tall it could knock over the Empire State Building. The ten minutes the band allots itself for the track don’t seem overindulgent in the slightest; if anything, they fly by.

Crippled Black Phoenix is a rare gift: aggressive but not offensive, smart but not pretentious, dark yet exhilarating. Rarely has the apocalypse sounded so fun.