Pechblende

In regards to modern hardcore, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to discover bands that haven’t fallen into one of two categories: entirely succumbing to metallically meat-headed Hatebreed-itis or thinking that the only "real” hardcore happened before 1984. The former sound like Slayer on half-speed, while the latter simply regurgitate half-assed "seen it, done it” DC or L.A. over and over again. Thank Pechblende for breaking the mould. On Collapse, this quartet recall the extreme music world of the early ’90s. The band prefer an attack and lyrical delivery reminiscent of His Hero Is Gone, the Black Hand and Union Of Uranus. Guttural vocals rage over moderately technical rhythms, all of which are played at ungodly speed and with guitar strings so detuned they seem to be slopping all over the place. Somehow though, this melee still sounds crisp, passionate and refreshing. It’s a style and musical outlook that many current bands seem to forget. Then again, the foursome hail from Quebec, where hardcore kids understood that underground rumbling way before the rest of the world felt the first tremor.