The Sword - Gods of the Earth
Living in the Land of Metal.
It’s impossible to talk about The Sword’s sophomore album, Gods of the Earth, without talking about metal in general. So here’s the deal: In any genre, there are strictures of form and content that keeps the regulars coming, but can also stifle distinctiveness and drive newcomers away. And let’s be honest: This is especially true in metal. The song structures, the arrangements, the timbres-all are as familiar, perhaps even cookie-cutter, as those in folk music, but are by design more abrasive and masculine. Instead of window panes and willow trees, you get warriors and broadswords. The people who live in the land of metal (just like the folk folks) love their home beyond words, and tirelessly occupy the familiar territory of which their chosen genres consist. Metal, or folk, or any codified genre, works best when its practitioners’ love for their home turf is so great that it becomes contagious-when it invites you to come along for the ride even if you’re not already a devotee. And, from the ubiquitous technical virtuosity to the epic presentation, there’s plenty to adore in the world of metal.
The Sword lives completely in that world, and if you do as well, then you’re probably already enjoying their new record. From the chilly acoustic wind of ‘The Sundering’ through the indulgently elongated pyrotechnics of ‘The White Sea,’ Gods of the Earth is a worthy entry into the metal canon, and the faithful have ample reason to rejoice. But what of those among us who are uninitiated in the ways of metal? Will this album change their minds about the genre, ease their reluctance and get their heads a-bangin’? For most outsiders, the vocals are the rub. Some metal vocalists try to sound like rampaging beats, others try to sound like fierce power-balladeers, still others make no pretense of singing at all, choosing instead to growl and gurgle and roar. In each case, the result is often more laughable than laudable. Sword singer J.D. Cronise takes a different route, keeping his vocals out of the way of the driving rhythms and extended guitar wanking (which makes sense, given that Cronise is also The Sword’s lead guitarist). He doesn’t sing like a demon rising from Hell, nor does he sing like a warrior slaying that demon. He sings more like the town drunk, wandering onto the battlefield, cursing and throwing empty bottles. That choice keeps the focus where it belongs, but also makes the epic fantasy themes of the album (not to judge it by its cover, but look at its cover!) ring a little less true. The town drunk isn’t the most enthralling of characters.
In the end, this is metal, and nothing but metal - for better or worse. Gods of the Earth doesn’t contain the very best musicianship you’ve ever heard, it doesn’t contain the greatest songs ever written, and (due mostly to Cronise’s inescapably inappropriate vocals) it isn’t the grandest adventure on the block, either. But The Sword does what they set out to do-namely, to rock-with the reliable dexterity of a band entirely at home in its genre. If you’re expecting something wholly new, or even exceptional, then look elsewhere. If it’s a gratifying trip through a well-known landscape that you’re after, then you won’t be disappointed.
Drew Messinger-Michaels
