Hacride

Summoning a sonic hurricane of metallic fury, the opening seconds of Hacride’s sophomore effort are indicative of what’s to follow: pure, unadulterated mayhem. Amoeba is a progressively powerful electrical storm, an immense atmospheric disturbance conjuring sky cracking lightning bolts spontaneously spurred to strike and fry the circuitry laid by their contemporaries. A natural step forward from their impressive debut, Hacride have evolved in their Meshuggah-influenced tech while still incorporating the hardcore elements and vibrant Death-infused noodleling that distinguished them stylistically and tapping a more sinister, spastic vein. This maturation has created a slightly more complex dynamic, the riffs encompassing greater nuance and increased force. Their time manipulation occasionally treads nu-metal territory but their unbridled skill and active imagination manage to make these parts sound badass instead of just bad. They also delve into world music, albeit briefly, in a metallicised Spanish flamenco Ojos de Brujo cover. Carefully placed throughout the album, though concentrated near the end, softer, chord-driven melodies balance the brutality, creating a more contemplative atmosphere, allotting an appropriate amount of time to evaluate and absorb all that has been laid to waste in the tempest’s path. Do yourself a favour and pick this up.