Written By Kevin McSweeney
In this Shape of Water Petrichor review, we explore how the band’s third full length album cements their genre fluid legacy with theatrical flair and daring sonic twists.
Shape of Water are one of those bands whose commitment to their artistic vision is absolute and unwavering – so much so that they are prepared to make serious sacrifices in their pursuit of it. They swapped the sunny shores of their native Italy for the rain-sodden gloom of Manchester in northern England, for example, where the water often takes the shape of stair rods, and all for the sake of their career.
Such a band is not going to bow to any pressure to pick a lane in order to appeal to a specific audience. What we have here on Petrichor, their third full-length album, available from August 8th, released independently, is a wildly eclectic offering from the “genre-fluid electronic art rock band” that can appeal to and alienate fans of various genres and subgenres in equal measure. One suspects they wouldn’t have it any other way.
As a sign of how acclimatised they are to their new home in the UK, the title of the album is rain related. Petrichor refers to the pleasant scent released by fresh rainfall on dry ground, a concept explained in the album’s intro, though the quest for dry ground in Manchester might be a fool’s errand.
“There’s something about the rain” are the first words heard on this recording, and in Manchester, there’s something about it in apparent perpetuity. The intro in which these words are spoken sounds initially like the soundtrack to a 1980s slasher flick, with its isolated pulsing piano keys backed by creepy sustained chords. This is in stark contrast to the optimistic philosophy expressed lyrically therein. Having said that, the first track proper of the album, Out of Time, has a certain darkness to it, sounding like something from the classic Nine Inch Nails album The Downward Spiral, with its throbbing bass, pulsating rhythm and fey vocal delivery. They have to undermine this of course with a bold, shimmering chorus that casts light across the darkness of the verses.
During my interview with the band last year, they cited Muse as one of their most prominent influences. That influence is very much to the fore on Last Goodbye. “Petrichor lingers in the air,” as do proggy synths and keening lead guitars over pounding disco beats. The impassioned vocals bear more than a passing resemblance to those of Matt Bellamy.
They strip things to the bare bones for the intro of NAKED, with its clean guitar arpeggios as backing to sweetly harmonised vocals, but this soon gives way to some seriously funky guitar and a beat that compels you to dance, disrobed if you’re so inclined. I find the spoken female vocals urging the prompt shedding of garments to be somewhat discomfiting, but the Irish have a different perspective of these things to their fellow Papists from warmer climes. The fact that they put the title in block capitals just makes it worse, quite frankly.
I’m reminded of The White Stripes on Salt & Mercury, with the way it alternates between quiet, palm-muted riffs and tempered percussion and louder sections with chords ringing out unrestrained over quarter notes on the crash cymbal. I like the way they introduce the church organ at the end, only for it to splutter to a sudden halt over the song’s dying embers.
Where I Belong begins with an unorthodox percussive sound that resembles someone whacking a series of plastic drainage pipes with the heel of a flip-flop. The quiet verses have something of Depeche Mode about them, whereas the loud choruses evoke memories of slickly-produced 1990s alternative rock, like Garbage minus Shirley Manson.
I can only describe Letting You Go as sounding like Queen covering Irene Cara. There’s a slight similarity in the melody to Cara’s Flashdance soundtrack song What a Feeling, but the piano/synth-led shuffle is highly reminiscent of the legendary British theatrical rockers. Queen were another band that Rox and Luca expressed great admiration for in my interview with them.
Here, you can witness that influence strongly, particularly with the falsetto harmonies and the lead guitar parts that could have come from the phantasmagorical fingers of Brian May. The coda is like Freddy Mercury and the boys at their most flamboyant. I can’t help wondering if this should have been the closing track. It would have brought matters to a suitably dramatic end. More on that later.
Things have been a little light on the metal front thus far, but it’s certainly been a rock album up until now. Diverged is where they diverge from it completely. Instead, we have lounge room jazz, chilled out and cool, with the vocals having been possessed by the spirit of Leonard Cohen’s nicotine-deepened bass-baritone sprechgesang. The tranquility is twice interrupted by pounding tom-toms and wailing lead guitar.
Then it all ends abruptly, and normal service is resumed in the form of the distinctly 1990s-style rock of She Never Sleeps Alone. This could be Feeder or 3 Colours Red, with melancholy lyrics ringing out through major key melodies over spiky guitars and pummeling drums. There’s something akin to a metalcore breakdown at the end, though it’s usurped by rousing strings. But don’t fret, because if it’s metal you’re looking for, it’s about to arrive emphatically!
The heaviest song on offer here, by some distance, is undoubtedly The Silence of The Lambs. Released as a single last October to tie in with Halloween, it contains melodic elements, such as its spine-tingling chorus, It also boasts riffs and the occasional lightning-fast beat of which Kerry King and Dave Lombardo would be proud, as well as a hint of harsh vocals. They’re actually a very good metal band when they’re inclined to be, which sadly isn’t often. I really wish they did more stuff like this. I’m not suggesting that it’s superior to the rest of their material. It’s just that, well, the name of the website ought to be a clue!
I had hoped Apertura would be somewhat heavy – a hope I pinned purely on the fact that it sounds a bit like Sepultura – and this hope wasn’t entirely in vain, as the intro is very much like Linkin Park. The vocals are as impassioned as those of the late, great Chester Bennington, and when the sustained power chords kick in, they bring the metal in sufficient quantity. It all goes a bit proggy in the guitar solo with the dramatic orchestral backing, proving that the Muse influence is never very far away. The last lap of the song is very much in the spirit of the South Devon prog lords, before moving further up the Westcountry to Bristol to end in trip hop fashion, bringing Mezzanine-era Massive Attack to mind.
Then the final track is upon us, and this eclectic adventure is almost over. Ukiyo is dark and ominous at first, and that stands to reason.
According to Google: “The term “ukiyo” originally had Buddhist connotations, referring to the sorrow and impermanence of life.” The reference to whales coming to die in the lyrics certainly had me feeling sorrowful. It’s atmospheric throughout with those intermittent piano keys making it sound so mournful, a sound oddly embellished by the almost flamenco-style acoustic guitar. There’s a sense that it might all change and end in overblown fashion, but it doesn’t. It all just sort of ebbs away, which is not what I was expecting from a band that evokes the likes of Muse and Queen.
Thematically, it makes sense, but musically? I’m not so sure. It’s for this reason that I wonder if Letting You Go mightn’t have been a better way to, well, let the album go.
But that’s a minor quibble, and it shouldn’t distract us from the fact that this album is a disparate but thoroughly enjoyable mixed bag of musical styles, a highly entertaining hotch-potch.
In true Italian fashion – and the Italians certainly know fashion! – it is stylish, sophisticated and delivered with no small amount of skill. And there’s a truculent defiance to their approach that is as captivating to me as it is commendable. They are determined to let a thousand flowers bloom in their multifaceted approach, no matter who might be inclined to sneeze in indignation. It’s an unorthodox arrangement, but no less fragrant for it, and achievable only with sunshine and rain in the right balance.
Metal Lair Rates Petrichor 4 1/2 out of 5 Metal Horns
Purchase Petrichor Here:
Tracklisting:
Intro
Out of Time
Last Goodbye
NAKED
Salt & Mercury
Where I Belong
Letting You Go
Diverged
She Never Sleeps Alone
The Silence of The Lambs
Apertura
Ukiyo
BAND LINEUP
Rox Capriotti: instrumentals, vocals
Luca De Falco: instrumentals
Tom Monk: drums (session)
SHAPE OF WATER ONLINE:
Check out Metal Lair’s Weekly Feature Seven Deadly Songs