Though not exactly an album breaking in new ground, Prototype the new album from Canadian metallers Insurrection, is a rather decent slab of creative death metal which certainly in its company makes for a pleasing and adventurous experience. Whether it offers and holds enough to capture the memory away from its brutal touch is yet to be proven, as after numerous exploits within its tempestuous walls tracks have still to emerge as lingering accomplices to thoughts and passions beyond its departure, but side by side stalking its ravenous scenery and intent Prototype makes a quite satisfying persuasion.
Formed in 2003 by vocalist Stef Jomphe and guitarist Martin Samson, Insurrection built a strong reputation initially in the local underground scene evolving to be a strong force in Canadian metal in general. Their technically carved rapacious metal has earned the band a potent fan base which 2009 debut album Prologue and its successor Fracture the following year pushed further afield outside their homeland. Now with the Topon Das (Fuck The Facts) produced Prototype and its death metal predation, you can only feel that the band will be widening their presence further even if the album seems a little bit like a lost opportunity, the release failing to really go for the jugular as its body potentially suggests.
Released via Quebec label Galy Records, the album introduces itself through the industrial crafted intro Overprocessed, an ok lure which sets the scene before the gripping Abattoir launches its malevolence. Grooved riffs and a carnivorous bass growl leap through the ears from the first full track whilst the rhythmic battering from drummer Philippe Moreau Latreille shows little respect for restraint or predictable enterprise. It is a captivating start which only grips tighter as the vocals of Jomphe scowl and graze the narrative with a strong presence and the guitars of Samson and Vincent Laprade Séguin cast an intriguing and exciting web of sonic mystery and enjoyment.
It is an appealing strike soon matched by The Chronophobes, a track which twists and turns with imagination to secure full attention with its inventiveness. As previously suggested, away from its temptation it is hard to bring a groove or hook back into focus but inside its storm with the bass of Francis Girard a moody bestial provocateur, the track is a formidable encounter just like its successor Checkmate, a fury of a track which blazes away with creative spite and scorching adventure to songwriting and its realisation. There is undeniably across song and album a compelling ingenuity to the structure and sound of tracks, a rhythmic bait and sonic temptation which is never prone to predictability or taking easy routes to achieve its intent, but again there is a lack of that killer element or potent enticement which lingers and infiltrates the imagination long term.
One of many great things about the album is the mix of English and French sung batterings upon the senses, the mix adding extra pleasing flavour and texture as shown through the likes of Sueurs Froides, where the bass of Girard reaches into its primal depths to forge a rabid predatory voice to its sound, and the virulently swarming Trois Minutes De Carnage, the track a magnetic pestilence with senses licking grooves and acidic enticement around thumping rhythmic incitement commanding the emotions and imagination.
The album seems to raise its heights from here on in, starting with Archetype. The track leads the passions into a ferocious sonic squalling which is perfectly honed and crafted to wrap the ears in a riveting entanglement of enterprise and aggressive causticity making its company irresistible. It is a thrilling lift to the album which is only one step as the title track next shows, the song similarly gaited and structured to thrust the listener on a raging yet calculated contagious scourge. The technical skill of the band once again grips attention whilst the bass voice and similarly grilling vocals brings the appetite an intensive hunger even if again the track misses creating something irreversibly addictive.
Completed by the rigorously engaging They Rise, a track which takes time to burn its venom into thoughts but emerges as a certain highlight of the album and the outstanding Bruits Sans Fin with its rampaging snarl and vindictive ingenuity, Protypte is an impressively accomplished and satisfying onslaught. It may have a lack of weaponry or the claws to retain its place in thoughts and passions away from its lures, something you can only feel as it plays with the senses were lurking in the shadows, but it is a release you can easily recommend as a doorway into the growing presence of Insurrection.
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