Heavy darkness oozes from every pore of Survivalist on A Place For Those Who Suffer, Alone

 Something mature and meaningful emerges

By Jonathan Traynor

…”every track feeds into a wider narrative of disconnection and the quiet, often painful process of learning how to survive in an increasingly isolating world.” Those are the words from the press release accompanying Survivalist release of A Place For Those Who Suffer, Alone.

Such words in press release can usually be dismissed as hyperbole, any exaggeration deployed to attract the attention of bored writers scanning their inboxes. Not this time. That line hits the proverbial nail on the head, nearly with as much heft as the music.

Not that it is one dimensional. Indeed their own classification of their genre as ‘groovecore’, some for of a mix of deathcore, metalcore and hardcore does not really do this justice. Simply this is heavy, really fucking heavy.

But not one dimensional. For all the brutality there are moments that offer a glimpse at musical subtlety. Take, for example the keyboard outro of ‘Rot (Redux) and the following track ‘I, Tyrant’. The outro primes the ears for the buried melodies.

And, the concluding song, ‘How Do I Stop Thinking About Death’ is a plaintive cry, echoing some of the elements of Whitechapel’s Kin album. And that is not a criticism,

Fearless use of samples and other-worldy textures means the heavier dominance of the album is never just a random crush.

As a statement A Place For Those Who Suffer, Alone – the song and the album in totalis a stomp to cement their place. Fierce and unswerving confrontation of tough subjects, whether they be mental health, loneliness and the loads of living life in an uncaring world.

Each song offers catharsis amidst the fury. Deathbed, featuring Alex Koehler, exemplifies the approach. Less a punch in the face, more a firm hand gripping you and saying ‘Yes, you are not alone’.

Musically, the low-end rumbles with an intense sense of menace as Rhys (drums) and Lee (bass) pound out odes of ominous heaviness, added to by Nick’s guitar riffing as if the sheer existence of life is under threat.

Like most harsh vocalists sometimes it takes a couple of listens to grasp the meaning, but as demonstrated throughout he can turn his voice to melody and clean singing, such as on Weaponised God Complex.

However, it might take some time to hold on to the rap and samples of Speak Up Louder. There is nothing wrong with it per se, just it sticks out a little.

That said it is a minor gripe on an otherwise glorious extreme metal album. Dump all the core this and core that, cast labels aside and wrap you ears around Surivalist’s growing into a meaningful, mature Belfast band. And, heed their message, you are not alone.

A Place For Those Who Suffer, Alone, today, Friday, January 30 via Seek & Strike Records.