Written By Kevin McSweeney
Under a Gilded Sun by Malevich
Atlanta-based blackened/screamo/sludge metal outfit Malevich are back with their first release since 2024’s Trembling and Doused EP, and the last twelve months have done little to dampen their fervour. Under a Gilded Sun, released on August 22nd, is their third full-length album, and their first to come courtesy of our good friends at Church Road Records. Oh, and they’re angry – furious in fact at the parlous state of affairs in late-stage capitalism. It’s a rage that billows out from this uncompromising offering. (The gilded sun in question is apparently emblematic of the dubious promise of rich rewards offered in return for hard work – a promise that is all-too-often empty. This sounds strikingly similar to the fabled “sunlit uplands” that were promised to the British people, and for which they are still waiting almost a decade on from Brexit.) Having said all of that, this release represents a diversification of their sound, as they introduce a much more multifaceted approach than on 2019’s Our Hollow, with more in the way of melody and other musical strands being woven into the tapestry.
Blossom in Full Force commences with a black metal blast beat backing guitars that sound doleful in their dissonance. The nature of the vocals are immediately notable. These are not the sort of scary grunts and growls that are the stock-in-trade of your typical extreme metal vocalist. Rather, they are anguished howls of despair, impassioned shrieks at a superficial sky with gilded sun at its zenith. Also, it’s a highly unorthodox approach to writing for guitar in extreme metal. It is a sound that is occasionally reminiscent of alternative rock bands such as And You Will Know Us by The Trail of Dead or even Bloc Party, albeit much heavier – organic, lo-fi, occasionally weaving fragile melodies out of amorphous cacophony. While Impasse is generally hewn from the same rock as the first track, it moves searingly into something akin to groove metal towards its conclusion.
Cross of Gold sounds strangely like Today by the Smashing Pumpkins played with sneering sarcasm in minor key on downtuned guitar. The pounding pulse of drums at the end sounds like the musical accompaniment to the condemned man’s walk to the gallows. The shimmering intro to Delirium and Confidence seems incongruous in relation to the rest of the material hitherto. It doesn’t last though, as a much darker riff and vocal combination emerges from it to re-establish normal service. This song is slower and more doom-laden, but no less venomous. The traces of melody eked out of the cacophony are like gossamer and all the more poignant for it, and the track’s ending is disconcertingly abrupt.
I can’t help wondering if they’re quoting Natalie Imbruglia’s 1990’s pop hit Torn with the title of Illusion Never Changed. I can only assume they’re doing so ironically if that’s the case. That said, the clean vocals have a similar emotional earnestness to those of the Australian starlet. There’s a poignant fragility to the melody. They almost sound like an English indie band on this one, up until the harsh vocals kick in. John Peel, God rest him, would likely have been enamoured with it. Speaking of irony, there’s the song Into Bliss, which commences with what sounds like screams of mortal terror over dissonant synths. This gives way to sludgy guitars over jazzy grooves that occasionally lapse into jig time. There’s a sound in there that I think is a tin whistle or flute being abused rather than played, but it sounds like a combination of a kettle boiling and an old ZX Spectrum computer loading up, or at least that’s how it comes across through a thick wall of sludge.
A Sun That Only Sets evokes an image with its title that is painfully close to that of Neil Young’s The Needle and The Damage Done – a thoroughly harrowing one at that. Musically, it’s strikingly dark, even by the standards of this album. The blast beats and black metal leanings eventually render themselves apparent again after a slow and bleak build up over the preceding minutes, and we encounter something that resembles an insistent alarm towards the end. If We Sing Towards The Heavens Maybe They’ll Let Us In sounds very much like a Smiths/Morrissey song title to me. The similarities end there, however. Even if those sombre arpeggios could have been drawn from Johnny Marr’s guitar, the visceralo vocal howls are far removed from Morrissey’s nasal croon. Then we have the epic closing track, Supine, Under a Gilded Sun, a slow, stately, funereal piece of music that verges on Tool or White Pony-era Deftones, with warm, shimmering sung vocals juxtaposed with the demented wails. It’s a surprisingly elegant way to bring the album to a close, even if it does descend into formless noise at the end.
So there you have Under a Gilded Sun. It is angry, it is melancholic and full to the brim of righteous indignation, but there’s a dreaminess to those soundscapes they conjure up, with occasional crepuscular rays of golden reveries piercing through the foreboding gloom. Ultimately, it’s primarily a discomfiting listening experience, but a pertinent and rewarding one nonetheless.
Purchase Under A Gilded Sun Here
Metal Lair awards Under a Gilded Sun by Malevich four and a half Metal Horns.
Tracklisting:
1. Blossom in Full Force (04:06)
2. Impasse (02:06)
3. Cross of Gold (02:11)
4. Delirium and Confidence (04:12)
5. Illusion Never Changed (04:48)
6. Into Bliss (05:10)
7. A Sun That Only Sets (05:09)
8. If We Sing Towards The Heavens Maybe They’ll Let Us In (03:27)
9. Supine, Under a Gilded Sun (07:22)
Lineup:
Connor Ray – Guitar/Vocals/Electronics
Sasha Schilbrack-Cole – Drums/Vocals
Daniel DeSimone – Bass/Vocals/Electronics
Josh McIntyre – Guitar
Malevich Online:
