Lamb of God
Acacia Strain, Decapitated
20 Market Place
Baltimore, MD, 21202
Doors 6:30 PM / Show 7:30 PM
Watch & Listen
Lamb of God
There are metal bands and then there is Lamb of God.
A new breed of modern American metal was erected in the 2000s, with Lamb of God serving as an architect, designing the blueprint that would become the standard by which bands that came after them would be judged. So often, the European metal scene has set the tone and established the creative high watermark of the global metal scene, providing the template that their American brethren would follow. Then Lamb of God came along and all bets were off.
It was Lamb of God who rewrote the rules, devised a new playbook and raised the standard. The genre was forever and irrefutably changed by what the band has done.
The Acacia Strain have always followed along the same trail such luminaries as Converge and Burnt By the Sun helped to pave. These New England sons have unveiled their Prosthetic Records debut with intentions of attracting fans of Zao, The Red Chord and Unearth through sheer force.
Though the group has been a stalwart champion in the Northeast underground, never have they sounded this intent on serving up purely hostile malevolence. Led by Vincent Bennett's festering growls and a three-tiered guitar assault, this album claws and tears with vicious savagery. Such a punishing frontline ensures violent waves of thick metal sludge, yet even more agonizing are the drawn-out breakdowns, often eclipsing the very songs they emerge from. Lethargic and sludgy, these crushing upheavals in the metallic veneer also appear to be attempts at offering up a "Nothing"-era Meshuggah vibe, but these time signature overdoses comes off as indulgent and unnecessary. Also interspersed throughout are moments of reflective dissonance, though these sample-ridden interludes are a brief respite from the ongoing carnage The Acacia Strain demonstrate. "Halcyon" is the one exception as it touches the opposite end of the metal spectrum, embracing atmospherics over muscle, and it is the only delicate moment on an album otherwise engorged with testosterone.