ALBUM REVIEW: Infinity (25th Anniversary) – Devin Townsend
It’s been 25 years since DEVIN TOWNSEND released his third solo record, Infinity (and yes, Cooked On Phonics counts as the first). In that time, the trajectory of Townsend’s career has branched off in a variety of different ways, many of which took root during Infinity’s experimentation. So, what better way to mark the occasion than revisit the album with the lens and production sensibilities of modern DEVIN TOWNSEND. Enter Infinity (25th Anniversary) – a remastered and expanded version of one of the musician’s most defining works.
Infinity itself is, frankly, a weird album. It came together during a turning point in Townsend’s career, where both his solo material and STRAPPING YOUNG LAD had found their feet with landmark releases in Ocean Machine and City respectively. However, by his own admission, Townsend had started to develop a messiah complex of sorts, becoming convinced that he was one of the few that had an innate understanding of the universe and its infinite systems. Infinity is a manifestation of this. Ostensibly an experimental prog metal album, Townsend’s sense of spiritual gravity shapes the tone of it – from its grandiosity, to its unsettling sonic boom effects, to pseudo-religious chanting and, occasionally, borderline self-indulgence.
Despite that, Infinity brags some of Townsend’s most enduring material; it’s opening quartet of tracks alone are iconic chapters in his canon. Apocalyptic opener Truth is both unsettling and heavenly, and would eventually reappear in a new guise as the opener to DEVIN TOWNSEND PROJECT’s Transcendence. Christeen, allegedly co-written by Ginger Wildheart (though Wildheart gives all credit to Townsend), is a catchy single that picks up the baton where Ocean Machine left off. Bad Devil is a nonsensical heavy-metal-swing-jazz number that pops up in live shows to this day, and War is an incredibly upbeat and bright death march of grooving riffs.
Yet, Infinity is also at times one of Townsend’s more inaccessible metal releases. The end of War introduces some abrupt stylistic turns as the song abates for an acapella lullaby. Soul Driven Cadillac is a wall of vocals constructed brick-by-brick and cemented with odd time signatures and hard to unpick melodies. Ants strays a fine line between fun and anxiety-inducing, its carousel of vocal layers as impressive as it is disquieting. The closest thing to a ballad on the record, Wild Colonial Boy, is a spacey and unnerving slow-waltz of self-reflection – and an album highlight. Life Is All Dynamics carries the introspective feel further, flitting between stripped back mellowness and a sonic bludgeoning. Unity channels a sparkly dreamscape that almost ends the album on a high, before Noisy Pink Bubbles adds an unexpectedly bouncy and anxious epilogue. Infinity is effectively an album of about turns, and one that will keep any listener on their toes.
Of course, we’ve known that about Infinity for a quarter of a century. On the 25th Anniversary release, the cacophonous material is presented remastered by Townsend himself and the results are certainly worth a listen. The changes aren’t drastic, but the remaster adds more clarity to everything, peeling back some of the audial smear of the original record to better illuminate the many layers bubbling underneath the chaos. Moreover, some of the rougher edges of the album are lovingly sanded down while still preserving the heaviness of the original material. The floating melancholy of Christeen sways even more mesmerically, while the heaviness of Bad Devil’s weighty guitars feels even punchier than before. Unity in particular comes out on top, sounding far richer and more clearly textured than it ever did before. Where there were bits of blur and sonic mud previously are instead crisp synth parts and euphoric vocals. It’s not all necessarily an improvement mind, not least on Truth, where an odd phasing effect towards the end makes the music sound as if it’s being briefly funnelled through a transistor radio. It was present on the original, but here it feels distractingly prominent.
Accompanying the original album is a wealth of bonus material from the period. Most of this is pulled from the Christeen (Plus Four Demos) EP, themselves culled from an earlier running order of Infinity. Of these, Om is probably the most well-known – relegated to bonus material and re-records on box sets, it’s been a live fixture for decades despite its relative obscurity. Processional is a lengthy, multi-suite prog metal journey that at times feels like a stream of consciousness. Its ending movement, Infinite Waltz, later appeared as a bizarrely excellent refrain on Deconstruction’s The Mighty Masturbator. However, of the EP tracks, it’s Sit In The Mountain that stands above the rest. A mellow number, its soaring guitar lines pave the way for a slow, dreamy chillout. Love-Load on the other hand is like robotic nails on a digital blackboard.
The EP material is accompanied by a trio of tracks that appeared on some earlier versions of Infinity. Two of these are live acoustic renditions of Ocean Machine cuts, both presented more as freeform delay-drenched one-man jams. However, it’s closing track Man that proves most interesting, its aggressive stylings feeling like a natural bridge between Townsend’s solo material and STRAPPING YOUNG LAD.
Infinity (25th Anniversary) is not a radical departure from its original incarnation, but it’s a strong reminder of what a fascinating statement the original album was. Infinity’s re-release here feels like a time capsule, showcasing the breadth of stylistic palettes Townsend would go on to explore further. What it lacks in cohesion, it makes up for by being an enduringly idiosyncratic record from one of metal’s most unique musicians. Presented with a new lick of paint and some genuinely compelling bonus material for diehards, it’s unquestionable that Infinity (25th Anniversary) is the definitive way to experience one of DEVIN TOWNSEND’s biggest milestones.
Rating: 8/10
Infinity (25th Anniversary) is out November 24th via InsideOut Music.
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