Having already teased acclaim and attention with their debut EP a couple of years back, UK metallers Arkdown give them a real shove with its successor, The Calling. Unleashing five uncompromising, seriously predacious cuts of metalcore seeded hostility as stylish as they are rabid the new EP is the declaration of a band ready to take on all comers.
Cast in the steel of their hometown Sheffield hailing Arkdown has been on a steady ascent through the British metal ranks since emerging in 2015. The well received EP, Path, lit up the underground metal scene with its 2016 release whilst live the band’s reputation has only risen as alongside their own shows they have shared stages with the likes of Fit for an Autopsy, Oceans Ate Alaska, Martyr Defiled, Kingdom of Giants, A Night in Texas, and Shields. The Calling is their next bold and impressive step and challenge to the higher echelons of the British metal frontline and further afield.
Though metalcore based, the Arkdown sound is a rich union of flavours, death and melodic metal colluding with rapacious grooves and merciless aggression across that instinctive bed. It makes for tracks which even as they directly assault equally fester in the imagination all twisting and turning with imaginative adventure as quickly shown by EP opener, Wake Up. The initial calm of its intro is soon squashed under the following weight of riffs and rhythms from which vocalist Kyle Dawson enticingly scowls and the guitars of Mike Dyson and Mike Walker spin senses ensnaring webs of antipathy wired with fine melodic thread. Swiftly a diversity of sound and vocal attack mingle in the outstanding trespass leaving ears ringing and pleasure greedily rising.
The following It Calls Me instantly wraps the listener in spirals of contagiously intrusive grooving, the swinging beats of Alex Roberts taking skilled pot shots as again the throat raw variety coated assault of Dawson erupt in animosity and magnetism. With the eager yet brooding basslines of Ed Morley as potent as the invasive enterprise of the guitars, the track grabs best track honours as it further ignited the passions before Mirrors embraces the senses in its own infectious guitar wiring as winds of discontent and dark reflection ravage. As its predecessors, the track is a captivating roar of craft and enterprise built on an array of individual agility and as those before, another mighty reason to devour the Arkdown sound.
The closing pair of Five Years and Falling brings the EP to a rousing close. The first is a sonic wrath within a cauldron of melodic intensity, uncaging grooves and sonic rancor with an intrusive yet deft hand whilst its successor while being the calmest moment within The Calling, indeed a haunting seduction of imagination, it is also a tempest of conflict and venomous ideation as mercurial and volatile as it is tantalising.
Giving five tracks which increasingly fascinate as they corrode the senses, The Calling is a striking and increasingly irresistible encounter from a band surely poised to stir up real fuss with their dynamic, dramatic and deviously compelling sound.
The Calling is out Friday 2nd November.
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Pete RingMaster 31/10/2018
Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright
La Familia is another which prowls the listener, its threat and energy in check but fully felt as riffs and rhythms badger rather than strike the senses. With hungry hooks and rhythmic imagination at its centre, the song easily keeps predictability away before Worthless springs a bedlam of acidic grooves, vocal discontent, and rhythmic voracity. It similarly twists and turns with adventure and tenacity, blending familiar essences with real imagination carrying Of Legions individuality.
The second track instantly expels a djent spawned predation around a blaze of vocal scowling and sonic intimidation from the guitars of Dean Watson and Jamie McArthur. As the first track, it is more a prowling ravenous predator than a vicious onslaught yet the pathological agitation its title suggests is fuel to the attention gripping enterprise and imagination cast by the band. Simultaneously the track is savage and seductive, extremes entwining and in revolt against each other as the listener is dragged through a landscape of metalcore and grindcore to name two of the open essences sculpted in a progressive and experimental voracity.
unveils more of his superb clean and melody rich vocals which had already enhanced its predecessor. Equipped and skilled to merge both extremes, he proves himself on Heartless to be one of the more exciting frontmen around. An essence of Dead Til Friday prompts thoughts towards the song but again a mere whisper to a sound undeniably belonging to When We Were Wolves. Predatory and seductive, it is a riveting adventure matched immediately by the voracious Blind. A sonic haze starts it off before grooves come out of the woodwork with insidious intent as pounding rhythms bring their equally enslaving thunderous textures. Vocals also explode with wide variety and unbridled passion across the destructive maelstrom smothering the senses. It is an exceptional savagery with a lingering spite ensuring it is one of the pinnacles of the release.
eagers thoughts. Taking a breath to establish its intent, the track then winds its sinewed riffs around the senses as the beats of Alan Forrest punch with a sure antagonistic touch. It is fiery bait which is soon under the squalling vocals attack of Neil Vernon, his coarse roars a scathing incitement within the emergence of sonic enterprise cast by guitarists Nick Toutjiaris and Joe Newman. Clean vocals join the picture next to bring a warm temperance to the still blustery gruff narrative, the union of both within the creative tempest of sound stalked by the great throaty bass provocation of bassist Chris Riley, magnetic in the least and thrilling in its strongest moments. As proven across the whole release though the ‘weakest’ elements are those vocals, both clean and raw deliveries undeniably potent instigators of the lyrical climate but at times landing wide of the levels musically the track elevates to.
songs. With a melodic flame licking at the heart of the tracks and an adventurous imagination equally coaxing out bravery in the songwriting, Memoirs opens with The Fall and instantly pushes the imagination and thoughts into action. An atmospheric brew raises its breath first, an ambience already being worried by the impending vocals of Blaney. As he and the intensity reaches forward to confront the ear, the track explodes into an invitingly textured provocation, the first rage quick and blunt before stepping into a more predatory stalking of ears and senses. The guitars wind sonic endeavour around the muscular core and rhythmic testing to push the breath of unpredictability and keep the listener’s expectations challenged throughout, and though debatably some of the changes and shifts are not as fluid as possibly they could be it matters little within a track which is unafraid to try things and take the listener on an adventurous ride.
temptation and orchestral bred elegance. It then evolves into a fire borne sonic blaze of craft and evocative textures whilst melodic flames scorch the ears for a wholly persuasive invitation into the release and the following Cut And Hunt. The second track takes little time in testing the senses with a crippling array of spiteful rhythms, corrosive riffery, and equally caustic gutturally primed vocals from Sean Scott. The track rages and ravages with craft and malevolence but equally exports a range of hooks and barbed grooves which dig deep and contagiously from within the dangerous tempest. It is a breath-taking companion which increases it’s tempting further with an excellently progressive, almost avant-garde teasing from the guitars of Charlie Griffiths and Charlie Frederick which evolves from their persistently impressive skills.
stride the track is a commanding enforcement upon the ear and senses with the almost convulsive rhythmic and riff attack a jagged seizure of attention and instant hunger. At less than three minutes, which includes the opening narrative the only complaint is that the compelling starter feels over before it begins and the wish it had been a fully-fledged assault strong, though admittedly soon forgotten once S.I.M consumes the ear with its initial sinister ambience erupting into a furnace of crippling rhythms behind a tempest of passionate melodic endeavour and sonic fire, all thrust home upon the ever squalling vocal venom of Burgess. The ambience of keys brings a warm almost soothing wash within the continually searing heat and spite of the song whilst as expected the band unveil a technically accomplished scythe of sound and imaginative fire, it keeping them still within comparisons to the likes of Meshuggah and In Flames.
