FIT FOR AN AUTOPSY – THE NOTHING THAT IS

(Andy Synn might be the biggest Fit For An Autopsy fan out of all of us, but he hasn’t let that stop him being critical of the band’s new album when necessary)

My first reaction to the new album from Fit For An Autopsy was, to be frank, one of disappointment.

Look, I know a lot of you are going to be mad that I wrote that, and you’ll probably be even more mad by the end of this review (though, please, do try and stay until the end, as there’s a few twists coming, and the added context will be important).

But the truth is that most of the pre-release tracks seemed fairly bland and toothless to me, and upon finally receiving the full album I quickly became concerned that the band had finally reached that point where they felt obliged to tone things down and play it safe in order to stay “on top”.

And, if we’re being honest with ourselves (and not just engaged in some sort of sycophantic parasocial relationship where the band can do no wrong), there’s probably at least a little truth to this – whether consciously or not – because much of the band’s new album, in line with their increasing status and popularity, feels like an attempt (whether a successful one or not depends on where you stand on these things) to capitalise on what’s already worked for them without necessarily moving things forward at all.

But, thankfully, that’s not all that The Nothing That Is… is.

To get it out of the way nice and early… yes, the opening segments of TNTI are easily the blandest and most uninteresting parts of the album – “Hostage” is a poor man’s As I Lay Dying (only without the attempted murder and failed redemption arc), “Spoils of the Horde” is all rhythms but no riffs, and “Saviour Of None / Ashes of All” is a second-hand Darkest Hour b-side (with all the edges filed off) in all but name – so if, like me, you find yourself surprisingly nonplussed by the first few songs then, please, have faith that it does get better.

Oh, they’re not terrible songs, by any means (the various performance, to assuage any doubts, are all absolutely on point) but they do feel remarkably safe, giving off not so much the sense of a band operating at the peak of their powers but of a carefully calculated collection of oddly familiar parts and overly formulaic pieces – all algorithmically analysed and focus-tested to ensure their mass-appeal – that seem to largely lack both the character and charisma of the last couple of albums.

That, my friends, is the bad news (and probably what’s going to end up with me tarred, feathered, drawn, and quartered – not necessarily in that order – by some angry fans in the not so distant future).

But the good news is that the deeper cuts – particularly the middle twenty minutes or so – contain more than enough substance, and pack more than enough punch, to make up for the rest of the record’s flaws.

“Weaker Wolves”, for example, is a taut, take-no-prisoners crusher which combines the streamlined hookiness of the band’s recent years with the stripped-down, straight-to-the-point heaviness of their Absolute Hope… era, while the more complex title-track strikes a precarious but perfectly-maintained balance between subtle technicality, sombre melody, and stomping groove without giving in to the temptation to go too flashy with the former, too simple with the latter, or to be overly-reliant on the melodic side of things (with its layered clean/harsh chorus being especially effective) to get its point across.

“Lurch” is a similarly excellent song – one whose slow-burn, atmosphere-heavy intro provides a compelling contrast to the densely-woven display of devilish melody and discordant intensity which follows – that truly deserves a better title, with the subsequent strains of “Lower Purpose” (the one advance single that really made an impact on me) proving that while FFaA may have become (arguably) more accessible and crowd-pleasing since their early years they’re still more than capable of stomping a mud-hole in their audience when they really cut loose (that ending in particular is going to be a mosh-pit inducing monster when played live).

And then there’s “Red Horizon” which is so good (easily one of the very best things they’ve ever written) that I felt it needed an entire section of this review all to itself!

Quite simply, if some of The Nothing That Is plays it a little too safe for my liking… well, “Red Horizon” definitely doesn’t, from its strikingly dynamic song-structure (which contains multiple catchy riff refrains and moody melodic motifs, as well as some impressively varied and visceral vocal work from those involved, all seamlessly arranged into a series of bombastic peaks and brooding valleys which flow like a proverbial river on its way to the sea) or its unapologetically political subject matter (which confronts the ongoing genocide in Gaza in unflinchingly stark and outspoken terms).

Of course, the side-effect of these five tracks being as good as they are is that by the time they’ve finished raising the bar (and then, every so often, raising it again just because they can) it can leave the rest of the record – which includes painfully adequate penultimate track “Lust for the Severed Head” and ambitiously melodramatic, yet still somewhat unfulfilling, closer “The Silver Sun” – feeling somewhat lacking by comparison.

And that’s a problem, because – even as a long-time (and massive) fan of the band – I can’t help but feel like The Nothing That Is essentially epitomises the phrase “half killer, half filler”… even if I do absolutely love the “killer” half, and would recommend picking the album up purely for these parts alone.

Now, if  you’ll excuse me, I need to go make sure that the drawbridge has been raised and the beacons have been lit, because I suspect I’m about to be besieged by a horde of angry fans looking to burn me at the stake (if not worse) for uttering such blasphemy.

Pray for me.