(Andy Synn welcomes another decadent dose of weirdness from Imperial Triumphant)
There comes a time in every band’s career… well, not every band’s career, let’s be honest… when they have to decide what to do with their success.
Do they allow it to change them, and their sound, in an attempt to chase the always alluring, ever-elusive dragon of fame and fortune (more the former than the latter, these days)?
Or do they stick to their guns, refuse to bow to outside pressure, and maintain their integrity, in the hope that success will continue to find them regardless?
Well, I’m sorry to say that with the upcoming release of their sixth album, Goldstar – which is neither a direct-to-video sequel to 2022’s Spirit of Ecstasy, nor a throwback to 2015’s breakthrough Abyssal Gods, but a special, third thing – it seems that Imperial Triumphant have decided that it’s finally time to cash in on their growing celebrity/notoriety and produce something with more artistic accessibility and marketable mass appeal.
That’s right everyone, Imperial Triumphant have finally “sold out”.
Of course, some of you may have already guessed that my tongue was firmly planted in my cheek when writing the above intro – you’re unlikely to be hearing the brassy, bombastic sturm und drang of “Eye of Mars” on the next Avatar soundtrack, for example, and I doubt the band will be getting the call to play the Superbowl half-time show any time soon – but, even so, there’s also a faint kernel of truth to it, believe it or not.
Because these songs absolutely are more “accessible” than the majority of the band’s previous work – more streamlined and refined in their structural sensibilities, while still possessing that same uniquely unorthodox edge which has defined their sound for the last decade or so – even if what makes them more “accessible” is very much a relative thing, when all is said and done.
What it really comes down to is that each song is now built around a more distinctive and definitive central motif – the infectious, Gorguts-ian anti-grooves of “Gomorrah Nouveux”, the sinister Sarabande which serves as the primary melodic hook of “Hotel Sphinx”, the brutal(ist), staccato stomp of “Rot Moderne” – which forms an even more concrete foundation upon which the terrible trio can continue to erect their baroque, blackened visions.
And while this makes them structurally simpler and more streamlined when compared to, say, the dizzying discordance of “Metrovertigo” or the erratic, fissile spasms of “Atomic Age”, it has also allowed the band to focus their attention (and their abilities) on fewer, but more fully fleshed-out, ideas per track, with the result being that there’s still ample room for them to indulge both their most “extreme” impulses (spewing up bursts of blastbeats and hedonistic heaviness like gilded-age cocaine fiends on a drug-fuelled spending-spree) and their more “experimental” ambitions (especially when it comes to the increasing use of atmospheric artifice and hypnotic pseudo-melody) while still staying within these self-imposed creative constraints.
That’s not to say it’s perfect by any means, as not every one of these tunes is “class A”, no matter what the album artwork might claim – “Lexington Delirium”, despite some intriguing synth work (and a guest appearance from Meshuggah‘s Tomas Haake) is more of a B-side at best – and the decision to place “NEWYORKCITY” and “Goldstar” (which would have worked much better as an intro track, in my opinion) back to back in the middle of the record effectively kills the weird but compelling sense of flow the album has established up to that point.
But when the band are playing the hits (up-to-and-including the jagged chugs and jazzy percussive patterns which comprise the split-personality psychosis of “Pleasuredome” and the warped Black Sabbath worship of moody, paranoia-inducing closer “Industry of Misery”) it’s impossible to deny that Imperial Triumphant have once again set a new (gold) standard for the avant-garde art-metal scene.
Honestly, I only wish that more bands would sell-out as well as this!