ALBUM REVIEW: The End, So Far – Slipknot
Some names are synonymous with heavy music. JUDAS PRIEST, METALLICA, SLAYER, the list goes on. This affinity comes with a mountain of expectations, and perhaps with a dash of unrealistic standards. Facing both while simultaneously ending the relationship with their record label is SLIPKNOT with the release of The End, So Far.
Cast an eye over the internet and there are an abundance of opinions surrounding the Iowan brood and the direction their sound has taken over time. With September 30 fast approaching, all ears are on SLIPKNOT regardless of positive or negative standing. To that end, the follow-up to 2019’s We Are Not Your Kind follows a rather distinct pattern. Adderall isn’t the explosive opener many are accustomed to. Rather than a brash proclamation SLIPKNOT have returned with the “god music” Shawn “Clown” Crahan boasted, Adderall is a slower burn which borders on the hypnotic, much like Vol 3: The Subliminal Verses’ (2004) Prelude 3.0. The distinct twang of an acoustic guitar settles within the electronic driven atmospherics to pave the way for Corey Taylor’s clean vocal. In a track which emulates the uncomfortable numbing sensation which can come with prescription drugs, we find ourselves floating within the warmth of the harmonised “you know I’m wrong” as we become shackled to the mesmerising rhythm.
The trio of singles which follows were initially met with a lukewarm response from fans, yet they flow better within the context of the record. The incantation of The Dying Song (Time To Sing)’s introductory “put your hands into the water” brings the hypnosis of Adderall crashing into Mick Thomson and Jim Root’s chaotic riffs, shaking us awake. The dense fretwork comes apart and spirals beneath Taylor’s crazed delivery of “Satan? You must be mistaken / There are no more Satans”. The sound of SLIPKNOT may evolve as is demonstrated within longer melodic instrumentals featuring calculated guitar solos but the vitriol towards society at large remains unchanged. Measured beats from Jay Weinberg (drums) dictate The Chapeltown Rag’s rabid riffs. Groove metal tightness merges with Sid Wilson’s turntables to amalgamate in hatred toward becoming a “martyr in restraints”. With the band reliant on electronic elements, it becomes difficult for them to avoid the trap of becoming over-produced, yet the rawness of Taylor’s breath expiring during the bridge’s hefty scream sates our desire.
In a society where inflated egos drive the thought “everything is God online”, discovering someone we see as special breeds unhealthy dependency. Obsession. This lust for the unrequited is nothing new for SLIPKNOT. We only have to look to Vermillion Pt 2 for that. With that in mind, there is something different within Yen: foreboding. The subtle sample of a heartbeat crawls up the spine as Taylor’s lower register grips the brain stem. The swell into a full band melodic chorus spins the tale of surrendering to our fixation, ultimately killing ourselves to please someone who doesn’t know we exist. With slivers of guitar melodies adding further layers of aural depravity, Yen is divine in its immersion. It’s here also where SLIPKNOT’s experimentation truly begins. Wilson’s skipping turntables in the build up to a breakdown of unbridled madness don’t add much to the experience, but they don’t take anything away either.
The nonet’s final album with Roadrunner Records has them embracing their chance to experiment. While it pays off in the deliciously dense Medicine For The Dead with its uncomfortable pulsation accompanying an infectious creeping riff, Acidic’s voyage into a grunge orientation is strange at best. It contains SLIPKNOT tropes such as the self-deprecation in screams of “I’m not a god like you”, and some slithering riffs which would sound animalistic were they contained in another track but Acidic leaves us feeling alkaline with its sleepiness. On the other end of the spectrum, the ramblings of a madman in Warranty may appeal on a surface level but there is very little to hook into lyrically. It appears the need to deliver lines as fast as possible runs away with Taylor, which is a shame as Warranty’s instrumentals are carnage incarnate with twisting guitars and booming drums which would shake the rafters of any arena SLIPKNOT enters.
Where SLIPKNOT usually turn their attention to the tyrannical nature of structured organisations, Hivemind has them stepping into the shoes they despise. Its introductory buzz feeds us the image of bees or insects crawling on us, rendering us unnerved. We are then strapped into a chair á la Alex Delarge and are exposed to teeth grinding tinny percussion amid a sea of guitars which crunch and scrape on each other. “We’re gonna need another witness just like you” Taylor growls as the indoctrination begins. The layered vocals in the chorus are a divine choice as the construct of the cult comes to completion. It could have ended there and we would have zero complaint. The descent into rampant megalomania which follows, however, tugs the curtain to expose the true nature of idyllic Oz as the sinister society infected with necrosis.
Our neurotic affair ends with a pair of songs which coalesce into a haunting close for SLIPKNOT. Drawing its name from a French nobleman-cum-eroticism author, De Sade is a tantric look into sadism. The song slows as it blooms into a melodic moment for an early guitar solo. This doesn’t last long as a sharp chug undulates beneath Taylor’s self-pitying musing. “A fool is only he who fools again” finishes with a strong vocal performance from Taylor, a subtle reminder this man knows his way around a melody. Proclamations of devotion to his mistress are a delight for the sadists amongst us, but not all is mellifluous as there are some who prey upon this masochism.
Alessandro Venturella’s piano work in Finale is gloriously morose. An orchestral bounce contained within strings gives a dreaminess we’re more than willing to escape into. Listening to the lyrics, Finale is no dream. Listing the subtle ways abuse enters a relationship against sweet strings haunts us. “Does the room seem smaller these days?” is exquisitely simple yet hits like a train. As the song unfolds into full guitars and choral elements, the manipulation this protagonist has been subjected to oozes through each movement. “Everybody has a cross to bear / I’ll nail you up on mine” has every fibre in our being convulsing with upset. The closing “I know it’s a shame but I gotta stay cause I like it here” prompts the instrumentals to subtly fall away to the opening bass and piano, lowering the curtain on a spine-chilling fate which leaves us hollow – to the point our overactive mind wonders if this is where Adderall enters the picture, thus the cycle beginning again.
With fans foaming at the mouth at the prospect of SLIPKNOT reaching its end due to the connotation of the album’s title, we can’t help but theorise. The End, So Far is a fitting goodbye to the label this band called home for 24 years. Perhaps this is also a farewell to the comfort zone at large. This is a band who demand to be met and challenged where they are. The End, So Far is a statement that the gloves are well and truly off as SLIPKNOT prove once again that they are at the top of their game as the unbridled standard bearers.
Rating: 9/10
The End, So Far is set for release on September 30th via Roadrunner Records.
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