Riff mark: 2:36
Long, boring album. Meshuggah is perfectly capable of
blistering face-melters like the None
EP and Destroy Erase Improve. Even Nothing had something. Catch 33 is mid-paced, riff-less
quandary: mere theme-and-variation play on atonal doodling courtesy of Fredrik Thordenal
(who solos little here, or if he does, it matters little), usually for several
minutes. Polyrhythmic, but not bewildering, with no hook and no headbangers. When
the record eventually crescendos and teases metal sensibility, all music comes to
an abrupt halt to make room for baffling breaks filled with whisper talk,
ambient cybernetic noise, and chorus-pedal guitar effects. I loathe this. Really, the
not-so-special defects of Sol Niger
Within becoming too prominent on an album charged forward through severe
self-concussive stubbornness. Damn. They were once so cutting edge.
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