Living. It’s kind of not that fun right now. Having to wake up every day and be who we are while countless state-sponsored crimes surround us, people are struggling to see doctors and just fucking eat, and there’s no one coming in for the save. We have to just exist in these meat containers, taking it all in, knowing what we know.
“Archatron” is the debut full-length from Chicago’s Embittered, themselves a strange entity based primarily on death metal but with plenty of other tentacles wrapped around it for good, warped measure. They named their record after the entity from Cormac McCarthy’s novels that is an all-knowing force with knowledge of good and evil, language, emotion, death, etc. that hovers over threateningly, with whoever is encountering realizing they are carrying the true weight of existential dread. It’s why feeling alive right now is so fucking painful. The band—vocalist Samu Rahn, guitarist/vocalist/electronics master A.V. Bach, bassist/drum programmer Austin Smith, drummer Jason Nitts (live drums will be handled by Rodrigo Garcia)—centers on that anxiety and frustration, destroying mentally and physically over 10 tracks that will test your will. They’ll also blacken your heart.
“Kind Master” crumbles open, instantly punishing, the roars mauling with a hellish intensity that is present through the whole record. The playing gets more gargantuan and filthy, suffocating with hellish intent, boiling monstrously as it ends. “The Caveman Cometh” is perfectly titled due to its slow-moving brutality, heated growls strangling, menace pounding as hard as humanly possible. The energy feels feral, leads melting and going more violent, a massive force bludgeoning as the vocals gurgle. “Fractal Autopsy” destroys with grime and thrash, blistering as the howls leave bruising, the leads going off and accelerating the heat. The punishment amplifies as unhinged cries slash, the drums blast ferociously, and one final assault blackens skies. “Archatron I: Astral Predation” starts with static before the steam thickens, pushing forward with might and a deliberate pace. The low end chugs as guitars hang, and the growls obscure, the drubbing disorienting even as strong melodies aim to stop the bleeding. The final minutes are blown forward with speed, smearing wails, and an encircling attack that spills into “Archatron II: Chrysalis,” an instrumental piece built with cleaner guitars, a calming atmosphere, and all elements slipping into the cosmos.
“Flesh Prison” gallops, harsh sentiment spat dangerously, smashing into a hazy aura that feels odd, but it’s a misdirect as the leads erupt around that, the band adding tumult to the violence. The playing is gutting from there, growls engorging as the final moments burn. “(I) the Bornless” quivers in doomy pools, growls snarling as dramatic gushes make hearts race, howls curdling and adding to the nausea. The leads melts minds as a lumbering death march threatens to pull you under, clobbering with little concern for your safety. “Ereshkigal | Cauldron of Becoming” features guest vocals from Stavros Giannopoulos (Atlas Moth, Motherless) and is named after the Mesopotamian goddess of the underworld. Clean playing starts and glazes as the bass plods, and the playing crushes, the vocals leaving ample scarring. The guitars take flight, leaving thick, heavy exhaust behind, boiling as the earth quakes, and a muddy attack makes breathing nearly impossible. “Thalidomidia” is a quick interlude featuring icy guitars and steam thawing your psyche, heading into closer “In the Congress of Sand & Rain” that bursts from the gates. Howls lash as heated leads burn fuel, the bass coils, and the road to destruction narrows. Electricity spills, every microorganism feeding off of that, energy pulsating through nervous systems. Jarring playing loosens screws as corrosion eats into bone, the drums gut, as you’re left gasping.
The darkness in which we live and that encompassed us for generations never has been more tangible than it is right now, and “Archatron” certainly embodies that grisly hopelessness and despair. Embittered pour industrial-grade misery into this record, making each step of the way harrowing, a constant reminder that every day we wake, we tread through muck. The burdens of being can often be too much, and this music helps encapsulate that and hopefully helps harden us for the tasks ahead.
For more on the band or to buy the album, go here: https://embittered1.bandcamp.com/
Meat Mead Metal 