Metalcore has earned a rather unfortunate reputation, especially for a genre that was formed by fusing two of the heaviest styles in existence: extreme metal and hardcore punk.
The Armed, a supergroup who describe themselves simply as “a punk rock band from Detroit, Mi.,” steer clear of the aforementioned label, despite their obvious debt to its sonic hallmarks. They’ve released six records over the course of their career, and their latest LP, with the nihilist name Untitled, is a work of unyielding, almost unbearable bleakness.
Untitled’s sound is often harsh or cacophonous, with the lyrics offering no possibility for an escape. The sheer force – squalls of feedback and drum volleys abound – exacts a psychological toll on the listener. Like an endurance test made only for the toughest ears, Untitled deploys its arsenal – slash-and-burn guitars, an AK-47 whose ammo is kick drums and bass – leaving behind only scorched earth and taking no prisoners.
The Armed adhere to metalcore’s aural touchstones – its fast and furious blitzkriegs, hard-hitting breakdowns, clean vocals alternated with guttural screaming – but play with prog-rock-like chops, lending Untitled an additional cerebral layer. For such a physical record, thinking about the lyrics might not be what first leaps to mind, if your mental faculties are even involved at all (let alone intact), but listen closely to what’s being said.
When The Armed take aim at their subjects – of which there are many – on songs such as “Ender,” the only thing to do is run and hide or duck and cover from the spray of vitriol. The intensity of their venom is that much stronger when you catch your breath long enough to ponder the conviction of their ranting and raving. Untitled’s animosity knows no limits or boundaries.
Scan through the fourteen tracks’ names and you sense an alienation from the world at large. “Dead Actress” and “Dead Artist” spell out that disaffection plainly, while tracks such as “Rage of Youth” suggest an angst-ridden hostility, borne out of a more traditional antagonism with authority. It’s all fair game for The Armed, and Untitled offends equally.
On production duty is Kurt Ballou, Converge’s virtuosic guitarist, who recorded Untitled using his trademark balance of razor-sharp aural fidelity and raw, white-knuckled sonic fury. By eschewing studio gimmickry in favor of loud, fast, and out of control hot takes, he preserves The Armed’s unpredictability.
Untitled is no sanitized take on hardcore punk, but instead bristles with energy. It could easily join other recent entries to the heavy rock canon, from Deftones’ Koi no Yokan to Deafheaven’s Sunbather, with its blend of technical acuity and dark atmosphere. The Armed are the shape of punk to come.
Stream Untitled below: