One of the biggest musical fads of the past decade has been the so-called ‘NeurIsis’ movement; bands who suckle at the withered teats of apocalyptic doom titans Neurosis and post-metal masters Isis with fevered vigour. The result is a not altogether unpalatable cocktail of big lumbering riffs, clattering tribal percussion and post-rock widdling, more often than not performed by blokes with beards wider than their biceps. Swedish quintet Gloson are late arrivals to this bandwagon, sorry, genre and their debut EP Yearwalker (Catatonic State/Art of Propaganda) has zero surprises in its thirty-two minute running time. That isn’t to say it doesn’t pack a hefty punch, mind.
While the band may ludicrously categorise themselves as ‘boar metal’, which explains why there’s a vicious looking porker with bloodstained tusks gracing the front cover, one thing they aren’t is ‘bore metal’ (I’m here all week) as the listener’s attention is unlikely to waver throughout their gargantuan riff onslaught, aided by a three-guitar attack that adds just enough interesting variations along the way to justify the extra axe. Tracks such as the ten minute ‘The End/Aftermath’ is a pummelling affair that will pin ears back when performed live, while closing number ‘The Aftermath Begins’ employs bleak atmospherics amid the crushing tempo with more than a few nods to fellow native gloomy types Cult of Luna.
While Gloson aren’t covering any new ground here, they are trampling a lot of foliage along a well-trodden path, and their relatively straightforward, powerful approach will win them a fair few fans. However, it’s hard to see them ever becoming anything more than a perennial support band who you’ve completely forgotten about a week after seeing them. Unless a tad more originality and songwriting nous is introduced on the next release, this boar’s days could be numbered.
6.5/10
JAMES CONWAY