Breaking from lengthy absences between their prior two efforts, Slipknot storm back onto the scene with haste and inspiration afoot. Reestablishing themselves on We Are Not Your Kind, the nine mature into comfortable territory, able to deliver the goods and encroach on new ground. Adderall beautifully misfires the record start, a torturous lyrical piece on drug abuse juxtaposed by gentle melancholic pianos and Post-Rock guitars. Uplifted on the march of its warm baseline, a pivot into bluesy gospel chorals tinged by shimmering, wailing guitar texture states intent for something different.
One has to await these finer wines as swiftly we crash ashore on maniacal aggressive batterings Slipknot are known best for. A smattering of triple percussionist force punches out classic grooves on uncanny familiarity with The Dying Song and The Shapeltown Rag. These are the crowd pleasers, with bite and vitriol at the ready, the hounds of frightful frustration are unleashed among bouncy infectious brutality.
As the record matures, so do its broody atmospheres and textural treats between the swaths of metallic onslaught, mostly cunning guitar riffs and stomping drum breaks to headbang along with. In this expressive space, Slipknot thicken the fabric of their identity, exploring the creepy, unruly dimension that blesses their distinction. Cracking crates ajar, unlocked are new depths of this mid-tempo, mood led focal point. Explored in degrees, an overlap with convention yields quite an enjoyable variety.
So far, The End, So Far, has been spun without a single skip. It ebbs and flows, leading to a grand conclusion with De Sade and Finale. The former proposes gratifying links between ends as texture, aggression and Corey's clean emotive singing unites different extremes. Venturing then into a string of exchanging classic Metal guitar solo stylings, the fiery energy deconstructs itself, dissipating into silence.
It sets the stage for a grand bow out, Finale offers sombre strings and graceful pianos on slight unease to brood into an emotional climax as Corey declares emotional attachment to his darkness. Its expressed through catchy wordings, to get stuck in the mind. Again, a textural experience. The song breathes alongside its creepy choral chants. Expanding and contracting, it feels like a link to the albums opening.
Consistently does one feel a sense of expression and inspiration. Perhaps loosening the shackles of expectation, Slipknot gracefully venture onto new lands. The production is sublime, a typical modern marvel, managing to cram in nine loud voices in its loud onslaughts. Best of all, I felt Sid Wilson's input was made visible. Often you can hear the turntable textures working in a little extra magic at no expense to anything else. This has been a delight. The best since Volume 3 as it stands.
Rating: 7/10