With a swirling mix of melodies and garble growled vocals Frank Zappa would be proud of, Negativehate have conjured up a happy, as well as spooky, blend of post-metal bliss. This kind of music is not my forte in any way, yet, from the opening song on Shapeshifter, I was compelled to continue listening.
The breakdown in this track matches the sonic sweetness of the effects used on their guitars. Throw Deftones in your grinder with an extra gram of late career Tom Waits and you’ll understand what I mean when I say these guys are a pleasant surprise in a genre filled with unoriginality and copycat production.
The songs on Shapeshifter take me back to watching AMV anime videos on 2006 pre-Google bought out Youtube, and their sincere appreciation for the grandstanding metal innovators before them is all there on each arpeggio that rolls through (take a listen to Echo Paradigm, another standout song).
Those drums? That sad to heartbroken evolution of lyrics? Fantastic… and their jazz-romp of progressive distortion does not stop. This entire album is a barnburner of put your headphones on and zone out heavy meditation. Each song has a different flavor than the last while retaining the themes (as well as reoccurring sounds) from prior songs.
For most people, the metal fans and future diehard head-banging subscribers, the nine minute jam Obsidian Dawn will be the end all be all highlight of this eight track album. The guitar build up is beautifully structured, with the first four minutes creating a menagerie of instrumentation that will have emo, industrial, rock, lofi sadboys, and, if played correctly, even Dave Matthews fans, chomping at the bit for more and more magic. Their focus on creating unique emotional songs seems to be their prime motivator and on this ballad of psychotic bloom, they score big with screamo lite Black Sabbath majesty. I love it.
These guys have the potential to be the next big thing in their respective genre, and from the way they all play together so expertly, I would put my money on them only continuing to excel in their passionate snaring glistens of pitter patter destruction. Hell, the wails towards at the end of Obsidian Dawn give Thom Yorke a run for his FM radio-absent money. Give this prog rock gang a listen ASAP!
