ATHEIST
Jupiter
Season Of Mist (2010)
Rating: 8.5/10
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Trying to review an Atheist opus is something akin to headbanging while standing on your head. These guys may be veterans of the death metal era, but since their debut opus Piece Of Time in 1989 have only released four albums.
Due to several lows, including the death of bassist Roger Patterson in 1991, Florida’s Atheist has been somewhat of an enigma. Their brand of technical, jazz-influenced death metal alienated many but those who were interested formed quite a cult following. Atheist, in whatever form, were masterful musicians, and still are. Even so, with Jupiter now out in the open, my ears are still struggling to come to terms with Atheist despite the fact I absolutely adore these guys. My bemusement is nothing new; I experienced the same quizzical feelings upon hearing their 1991 opus Unquestionable Presence and the follow-up Elements which raised its head in 1993.
Jupiter, just like their previous records, is not strictly a death metal album. If anything, Atheist bridge that gap between Death and Cynic, bamboozling the brain with an array of complex structures, intricate dynamics and jarring soundscapes. Not even the dry rasp of Kelly Shaefer is easy on the ears; it sits uncomfortably on Steve Flynn’s epileptic drum patterns, and rests uneasily on the staggering chords of Chris Baker. While impressive in its progressive approach, there is no tying Atheist down to any particular rhythm, these guys occupying the same alien environment as Oblivion, Watchtower and, to a lesser extent, Sadus.
I’m unsure as to how the Atheist members remember the chords etc live, because while mesmerising as an album, Jupiter is also inaccessible. It took me many, many listens before I could latch onto just a handful of songs, with each one of the eight on offer dragging us into its complex web of cosmic weirdness.
Such is the labyrinth Atheist has created that one would need a trail of breadcrumbs in order to find your way back out. Whether it’s the extraterrestrial layers of ‘Live And Live Again’, with its bone-shuddering bass courtesy of Jonathan Thompson, or the spitting fury of ‘Tortoise The Titan’, with its spasmodic drums, there’s just no way of working your way into this maze of metal. While highly talented individuals, Atheist have no inclination to let us into their inhospitable manor, a place ridden with traps and cold spots and a jaw-kicking mule named ‘When The Beast’ with its uncanny groove.
The Atheist experience is like tossing and turning in your sleep, never once reaching any type of comfort on those spiky sheets. It’s a discordant record that exudes genius, while rarely touching base with conventional death metal. So, all in all, Jupiter, is simply – if we can use that word – another jerking, cavorting and hypnotic Atheist record that bucks, flips and stretches itself in and out of genres, remaining elusive all the while. What else did you expect?
Neil Arnold
