Arch Enemy – Black Earth

Forget everything you know about melodies, catchier-than-a-pack-of-hyenas-laughing choruses and half-baked solos. This, my friends, is the real Arch Enemy.

Newer listeners, especially to the band’s more recent (craptastic) output, may think to themselves, why on earth is this fellow saying that this is the real thing? I’ll tell you why. Because I said so, mah! All right. That was lame and cheap but it was kind of funny, aye? Anyhow, if you had gotten into the band as early as I did, then you’ll probably understand where I’m coming from.

The two guitarists, brothers Michael and Christopher Amott, were fast gaining recognition and plaudits as the twin guitar wizards to look out for. And rightly so. While Michael was previously in the legendary Carcass, his brother made his debut here. But you wouldn’t have known that. Together, they tear through 9 tracks of blistering, melodic as heck metal. Or to put it shortly, melodic death metal, which funnily enough isn’t really death metal at all. But let’s not get into that, for the debate shall rage on and on and I would’ve run out of tea by then.

The thing about this album is that it’s heavier than heck; with its guitar tone that sounds as though it was made from Thor’s hammer while the drums pound your ears into submission. But the one aspect of the band that got the most flak about was the vocals, No vocals that sound as though a woman was doing it. The vocals here sound like a dog’s bark. A rather large, black, vicious-looking dog. Personally, the dude sounded like a bear. One very big, very pissed and very vicious-looking bear. To many, his “singing” was monotonous and dull. What they did expect? Friggin’ Bruce Dickinson? This is how it’s supposed to sound, not some woman who sounds like an evil 12-year-old.

Bury Me An Angel is by far one of the most crushing openers ever. Mind you, this is 1996 but the production on this puts latter efforts to shame. I’ve already mentioned that the guitars are heavier than heck and the aforementioned proves me right. If you think shouting “I love you” in a metal song is weird, try listening to Eureka. One thing I love about the album is the solos. They are distinct and fitting to each song. Cosmic Retribution even has a Spanish-influenced interlude that throws you off for a moment but when the carnage resumes, you remember why your head feels heavy. Transmigration Macabre is a fun song; heavy and brutal and underneath the rhythm is a pounding, almost old-skool death metal sound to it. Closing song, Fields of Desolation, is by far their best song to date. It’s huge. It’s dark. It’s grand. The main riff alone makes their more recent efforts sound like goddamn Linkin Park. I’m a sucker for a great metal song with great drumming and a great ending solo. This has it all but turned all the way to 11. It’s too bad that the solo had to fade away towards the end. I would’ve been happier than a pack of hungry wolves chomping on a moose.

This is one of those rate albums that when you press Play, you can leave it and listen to all the songs without skipping. Of course, it’s also pretty short. Clocking in at slightly over 32 minutes on the original version, the re-released version bumps it up to nearly 43 minutes. But that shouldn’t be much of a problem. You can always listen to it again.

Initial Rating: 7/10

Current Rating: 8.5/10