IN REVIEW: Royal Thunder - "Crooked Doors"

The urge to pigeonhole music is an increasingly shameful endeavor, especially when it comes to heavy music. "That's not metal!", the eternal battle cry of the tr00er-than-thou masses, has always been a stupid argument in my estimation; it doesn't matter what the label says, it's all in the way it makes you feel. That's how music is supposed to work.

Crooked Doors, the sophomore album by Georgians Royal Thunder, is categorized on Google Play Music as "doom metal"; I suppose that, in a purely technical sense, you could classify some of it as such. However, there isn't really so much doom or metal to be had on this album as there is muscular classic rock and prog. Much of what you need to know going in is handled by opening track Time Machine, a ticking, thumping seven-minute odyssey that showcases the band's strengths with effortless precision. Singer/bassist Mlny Parsonz commands attention with a confident, powerful vocal while guitarists Josh Weaver and Will Fiore weave snarling, wailing lines underneath. Evan Diprima's drumming isn't flashy, but is performed in such a way that best serves the song.

Of all the southern rock and metal contemporaries Royal Thunder has been lazily compared to over the past few years (try to find an article that doesn't mention Mastodon or Kylesa, at least in passing), perhaps the one that will stick longer than most in light of this album is Baroness. Maybe that's a lazy comparison too, but it's hard not to hear some of the same sonic shifts that band employed as they set sail from metal's cold shores into the deep, black unknown; Floor, one of the album's most energetic and intriguing tracks, sounds like something that could have slotted alongside a track like Cocainium on Baroness' Yellow disc, and you can trust me when I say I intend that as a compliment.

There are also some '90s influences that rear up intermittently, most notably on Forget You, The Line and Glow, all of which bear traces of Alice in Chains and Soundgarden; there's also a good helping of acid-soaked psychedelic rock coursing through Weaver's more elastic guitar licks, as most explicitly demonstrated on mid-album anthem Forgive Me, Karma. Like any honest tribute, it's an interpretation of the sounds as it pertains to the band's unique vision, and none of it feels too derivative.

Royal Thunder save their biggest surprises for the end; One Day is just shy of a straight up power ballad, with a stunning multi-tracked vocal, simple and soothing guitar work and a masterful build in intensity that deserves to be experienced with good headphones in the dark (especially from the four minute mark on). The metalheads will hate it, but (because?) it's a fantastic song.

If you thought One Day was as far away from metal as it was getting, feel free to take on the album closing, two-part epic The Bear and then ask yourself why you cared if it was metal or not in the first place as you reach for an oxygen tank and/or a tissue and/or the replay button. On an album with as much texture and mood as this, The Bear is the most brazen departure; eschewing guitars entirely in favour of orchestration for the bulk of the song, some closed-minded sticklers may declare it to be a slap in the face. They're just a bit off, because it's more like a sucker punch to the gut.

In a day and age when most bands seem hellbent on that one big single, it's refreshing to hear a work of art such as Crooked Doors, a flavourful and entertaining collection of songs that serve the whole. Bursting with creativity and talent, the only thing more exciting than Crooked Doors is the host of sonic possibilities that have opened up for Royal Thunder because of it.

April 7, 2015 • Relapse

Highlights Time Machine • Floor • One Day