It’s exciting to put on a band’s new record and instantly be thrown for a loop in a really good way. There are a lot of artists that put out strong releases their entire career but never really hit on that moment where they strike something truly land moving. Which is fine. A catalog of stellar music is nothing at which to be ashamed.

On album three, a self-titled affair, Year of the Cobra blast past just another strong collection of songs and unlock something that should be foundational glue for whatever music lies ahead. The duo of Amy Tung Barrysmith (vocals, bass, keyboards) and Jon Barrysmith (drums) haven’t graced up with a new record in about six years, and it’s certainly understandable as life gets in the way. Plus we had a damn pandemic. Yet, on this eight-track, 41-minute pounder, the band mixes doom, sludge, grunge, and even some pop sensibilities with those jagged hooks in a manner that acts as a sort of a creative rebirth, a fireball that’s been festering over the years that finally bursts in all its massive glory. 

“Full Sails” starts with thick bass coiling, the bruising spread out, Amy’s voice floating over, feeling breezy and restrained. Things get burlier, the simple, yet effective chorus making strides, Amy calling, “From this day forth your soul is mine,” as dark riffs leak under the door. “War Drop” punches with the drums rattling, with the vibe feeling a little L7, especially vocally as Amy sings, “I know it’s time, I see the trail of death.” The pace mesmerizes before digging back in and adding filth, the chorus repeating before a pummeling finish. “Daemonium” is one of the more approachable songs on here, though it tracks a killer targeting women, adding a sinister vibe. The singing is a little higher register, but then it gets darker as Amy prods, “Did she close her eyes? Did she plead for her life?” which feels like the song is out for vengeance.  “Alone” also swirls around in darkness, the riffs encircling, a powerful chorus flexing muscle. The playing goes clean and plays in echo, and then the punches land, Amy wailing, “I never thought I’d feel like this,” as the final embers burn.

“7 Years,” which is almost the time period between records for them, is fuzzy , grungy, and spirited, adding a psyche glaze that boasts a sheen. The basslines slink as the drums send glass shards flying, melodically chugging before a rather catchy finish. “The Darkness” flexes its power early and often, Amy defiantly declaring, “I don’t need a thing, I can do this all alone.” Her calls of, “Don’t let me go,” reverberate, bringing both appealing melodic gusts and a bustling finish. “The Sleep” rumbles as the vocals swelter, dark tones making everything feel foreboding, drums pounding as if breaking through the earth. The chorus settles like a breeze, a low-end rumbling making the ground shake, disappearing into the mouth of a dream. Closer “Prayer” is the longest track here, running 7:29 and simmering in noise and plinking keys, the singing conjuring deep emotions, the playing gushing and bleeding. “My soul do I relinquish,” Amy cries, the playing sending light beams, keys drizzling, a hypnotic front hanging over, noise squeezing before ending gently.

Year of the Cobra really tap into something on their self-titled third record, and while it carries enough darkness, it counters that with increased doses of melody and hooks that can scar you. The Barrysmiths really are onto something here, a record that can grab the metallic contingent with no problem but also can attract people on the periphery who are a little hesitant but might be attracted to the sheen. This should be a major coming out party for Year of the Cobra provided this record gets the attention it richly deserves. 

For more on the band, go here: https://yearofthecobra.bandcamp.com/

To buy the album, go here: http://lnk.spkr.media/year-of-the-cobra-yotc

For more on the label, go here: https://en.prophecy.de/