By Dessa Bayrock (The Cascade) – Email
Print Edition: November 27, 2013
[Editor’s Note: Chris DeMarcus is a member of The Cascade’s staff]
Empire of Illusion opens with a drum machine, which is unexpected for a metal album. On the other hand, it’s also a reminder that electronic elements—distortion, after-effects, samples, etcetera—are weaseling their way into every genre. Is digital metal a genre? It is now.
This theme of digitization works well with the subject matter Stiff Valentine tackles on this record – it’s the first metal band I’ve encountered, anyway, with a love for words like technocrat and ideology. The content is a surprisingly good match for the genre. It’s nice to hear growled/roared lyrics revolving around the failings of consumerism rather than typical blood, gore, and violence. This lets the violent style of the music composition shine; Stiff Valentine gives you the best of both worlds with food for thought and music for moshing.
On the other hand, by the time the end of the album rolls around, these sentiments start to feel less thought-provoking and more preachy. In another era, this album might have seen the light of day as a hand-bound manifesto critiquing society’s ever-present need to consume and commodify. “Give me your hungry / Give me your poor / Give me your whores / and I will make them commodities,” lead singer Chris DeMarcus growls.
The sentiments are interesting to consider, and wouldn’t be out of place in a media and communications course, but by nature a heavy metal song is not really the best place to approach them. What could be full-blooded theses turn into highly simplified (and, at their worst, repetitive) concepts. Sometimes they even creep into cliché territory: “I will not be sold / I am incorruptible!” two vocalists tear out in “Incorruptible.” Sure you are, Stiff Valentine. Sure you are.
On the other hand, this line of critique appears purely because the album so adeptly presents itself as a mini-manifesto; purely as a work of metal, these quick snaps of academic theory are actually pretty serviceable as brutal material.
Going back to vocals, the growl can make or break a metal album. DeMarcus’ growl is more of a pseudo-growl; it’s got a gravelly, cigarettes-and-whiskey, bluesy quality that works quite well. Kerry Petersen provides silky, whispery female back-up vocals, which make some stanzas even creepier.
My favourite song comes near the end of the album in “Nu Mecha,” a pun combining religious feeling with technological progress which I truly, truly appreciate. DeMarcus steps away from the growl just long enough to provide a spoken word excerpt to set the tone, not only for the track but the record as a whole. “We have a duty to technologically innovate,” he says, in a tone that could be used by someone presenting to a packed lecture hall, or equally as well by someone on the street with a sign reading “the end is nigh” and a giant beard. “There are no consequences … only conclusions. The energy slaves, they must obey.”
