July 20, 2018

Khôrada - Salt

By Justin C. Writing about a band like Khôrada is both a joy and, ironically, a truly difficult task. Lots of reviews talk about bands that "defy genre boundaries"--I'm sure I've personally said it before--but Khôrada makes me regret using that phrase
By Justin C.

Artwork by Cedric Wentworth.

Writing about a band like Khôrada is both a joy and, ironically, a truly difficult task. Lots of reviews talk about bands that "defy genre boundaries"--I'm sure I've personally said it before--but Khôrada makes me regret using that phrase to describe any band other than them. It's not that you'll hear some Jute Gyte weirdness or a metal band made up of only tuba players. You'll hear familiar bits of doom, black metal, sludge, and what we olds used to just call "rock and roll," but they're combined and performed so flawlessly that it almost seems like something completely new. Familiar and elusive at the same time.

Most people probably know the headlines on this one: Aaron John Gregory, vocalist and guitarist of Giant Squid, joins three former members of Agalloch: Don Anderson on guitar, Jason Walton on bass, and Aesop Dekker on drums. That will be the marketing pitch, anyway, and it's a smart way to get them a lot of attention. But if fans come looking for a bit of Agalloch Part II, they're going to be much disappointed, because this is not that. What they will find, though, is some truly brilliant, emotionally hefty music. No "new" band should be this good on their first outing, although of course these aren't 18-year-olds making their first record, either.

The debut album, Salt, is unapologetically about environmental collapse and possible extinction-level events for the human race. The opening track, "Edeste," has lyrics like

Nature is convinced
it's time for a sixth extinction event
before man has the chance
to gnaw her to the bone.

Nobody's hiding their lyrical intent here. "Water Rights" is also not coy about being a protest song about the Dakota Access Pipeline and Standing Rock protests:

When word comes down the pipe
from the biggest suit of all
to pillage their water rights
as the snow falls
Disregard their thirst.

Mixed in is a short but devastating portrait of a miscarriage ("Augustus") and a scene of a parent explaining to their child about man-made climate change ("Wave State").

Gregory's vocals are uniquely his own, although I often found myself jotting down comparisons to other singers--maybe a hint of Mark Kozelek at the end of "Edeste"? A little bit of Tom Waits's gruffness in "Water Rights"? But name-checking won't really help me describe his unique voice to you. There are a few snarls, but he mainly sticks to a mid-range clean that veers ever-so-close to over the top without ever actually going there. These lyrics could make for a schmaltz-fest in the wrong hands, but he manages heart-breaking emotional highs and lows in a powerful, straightforward way. The musicians meet him at his level, adding instrumentals that may be a bit cerebral at times, but never emotionally remote. This might be one of the few bands that truly deserves the label "progressive," not in the sense of a weird, technical wankfest or 70s throwback, but music that truly moves us and them forward at the same time.

I don't know what kind of reception this album will get. Some true metalheads might find it not enough, whereas it may still be too heavy for others. The words are topical and current, but on the other hand, this is a bad time (particularly in the U.S.) to express sincere environmental concerns without fact-less hordes shouting you down. But it's a truly special and remarkable album, so I hope it's heard and enjoyed as widely as possible.

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