At a time when most could probably add “this band blends screamo with black metal” to our bingo cards, Malevich go one step further by taking aim at their contemporaries with some pretty harsh digs when describing their latest record. To quote:
“The lack of teeth found on the thoughtful side of extreme music is concerning; hordes of reverb-soaked faux-black metal bands tremolo picking for the sake of selfish art and not anger. Malevich is angry. The band looks at the material world as it exists and condemns its violent, oppressive tendencies. They seek to contrast others that adopt trendy aesthetics but purposely avoid any kind of ethical stance outside themselves.”
It’s a bold choice to promote a new release by speaking more about what everyone else is doing wrong, and especially so when said release dredges up the same tropes decried above. Genre-blending is nothing new, and while Malevich have an unparalleled fury to their vocal delivery and unbelievable intensity at times, it’s not enough to set them head and shoulders above the rest of the ever-growing post-everything scene.
Despite this gloomy opening take, there is an undeniable, addictive pleasure to be taken from this record. The flinchingly abrasive delivery and abrupt genre jumps might jar, it might be a difficult listen, but it can be irresistible to listen to. There is genuine anguish and passion in these songs, and their imperfections but even make them all the better.
“Malevich are at their best when at their bleakest, and some of the riffs on offer are downright filthy, accentuated by the impressive range of vocals which are delivered with venom-spitting conviction.”
The production on the record feels like a misstep. It’s aiming for a ‘band in the room’ feel, but someone forgot to include the room. The guitars and drums are dry and raw to a fault, and everyone sounds so isolated from each other as a result that the whole record feels like it’s been glued together in post. It’s an odd mix of going for a minimally processed sound whilst trying to keep every element defined in the end product, and it sounds like the worst of both worlds.
This can make for a deeply uncomfortable listening experience, especially with the tortured Amenra-esque vocals so high in the mix. It’s a little like being at a gig and having your drunk friend loudly rail against the world’s injustices while you’re just trying to watch the band at times – but at others it makes perfect sense, and the peaks of the record hit like a truck when they’re delivered like this.
4th track ‘Delirium and Confidence’ is a standout, opening with an ominous riff battling with glitchy ambience and building into a doom-laden climax. Slower paced than the other opening tracks, the shift in vibe is most welcome at this point in the record, and it’s the most triumphant blending of genres that Malevich have yet mustered in their stellar discography.
Sadly, this is followed by a jarring left turn into the toothless ballad ‘Illusion Never Changed’, which is where the band pivot into clean vocals accompanied by post-rock slop that’s been done to death and back again. There’s a token attempt to tie in with the rest of the record by layering screams and waves of sludgy distortion over the end of the track, but if anything it just makes things feel more contrived.
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Malevich are at their best when at their bleakest, and some of the riffs on offer are downright filthy, accentuated by the impressive range of vocals which are delivered with venom-spitting conviction. The production choices make much more sense on the likes of ‘Into Bliss’, although the clipped and compressed vocals detract from the impact of the track rather than accentuating it. As we mentioned before, the delivery of the vocals is truly fierce and there are an almost endless variety of screams, growls, shrieks and exultations along the journey. Whilst the sound may not borrow too much from the Screamo world on the surface, the frenetic pace and breakneck left turns found among the first few tracks pull straight from that playbook.
From track to track, day to day, minute to minute. Under A Gilded Sun is never an easy listen, but it’s also never dull – there’s a detail that jumps out every time. On a crowded plane through headphones at 7am, it’s a nightmare. Late at night on a crappy bluetooth speaker in a dark room, it’s exultant. It might not be an all-time great record, or even Malevich’s best, but it’s certainly one to give a chance to.