Nuclear Blast Records
Out Now
When Soulfly came into existence around a quarter of a century ago, there was a large number of music fans that gravitated to the band and their music simply by virtue of the fact it was fronted by Mr. Max Cavalera.
His was/is and shall always be a name synonymous with heavy metal immortality, but with Soulfly he created more than an extension of Sepultura.
He gave birth to a different beast altogether, albeit one which maintained certain nods of respect to his former band.
The tribal elements became more prominent, and the underlying sense of family still resonates today with Max’s son Zyon keeping the machine well regulated from the drum stool.
In fact, much of the material on Soulfly’s 12th album Totem originated from writing sessions between Father and Son after Zyon asked his Dad to show him how Sepultura created many of their classic songs.
Described as a brutal, violent and extreme album, HEAVY decided to judge for ourself.
Opening track Superstition is not a Stevie Wonder cover, as if I have to point that out.
Instead, it’s a swirling, chaotic number that starts with a wall of guitars and drums before a quick grunt from Max leads into what is already all of the above adjectives less than one minute in.
Max screams with venomous intent, barking words of destruction at an unseen foe. Clever use of an echo effect only serves to accentuate the vocals before a ripping guitar solo fights for supremacy – and wins.
This is fast. Brutally fast, with Max and Zyon achieving their goal directly from the outset.
The sound fades to a close before Scouring The Vile rumbles in courtesy of a wicked guitar intro that says much more than any vocal line could.
Max flutters in the background with vocal squeals intermittently before assuming regular vocal duties. The anger in his voice is almost painful to listen to, but also strangely comforting.
I don’t even know how one would or could scour the vile, but Max doesn’t seem to care, voicing threatening gestures and screaming down the gates of hell while the rest of Soulfly decimate their instruments in homage.
It fades out with a blast, allowing yet more guitar play to scrub clean Filth Upon Filth. The regular chugging of guitars acts like an early warning system, ushering in Max, who hasn’t lost any of his angry pills just yet.
I have to take a quick look at the album notes to clarify that there is just three people playing here – Max on guitars/vocals, Zyon on drums and Mike Leon on bass. The trio creates a massive sound that could easily be created by double that number, elevating what I have heard so far from awesome to fucken fantastic.
Rot In Pain opens with some nice interplay between all three on their instruments, feeding off each other, before Max tires of the to and fro and once more drags us voluntarily into his world of carnage.
How the fuck he rips these solos and sings at the same time is beyond me, but he does.
The solos are well placed and electrifying, an extension of each song rather than a highlight, with sound effects haphazardly placed for maximum effect.
The Damage Done eases its way into existence, a more tempered and measured opening salvo carried once more by the chugg of Max’s guitar.
It’s a nice change of pace that many bands would class among the heavier tracks of any album.
Of course, for Soulfly it is akin to a breather while refusing to lay down arms, and, just as you start to think it will meander to a predictable conclusion Max dusts off his riffing fingers and sets about mesmerizing your senses with a delicately beautiful, yet crushingly heavy solo.
The title track is next up and at five and a half minutes is the longest song so far.
It starts more like a rap/metal style number with what sounds like scratching, but doesn’t last long.
I’m not sure if that was teasing, experimenting or threatening, but whichever it was Max isn’t having a bar of it.
The metal machine kicks quickly back in, the rhythmic rupture of guitars carrying Totem into another plain.
The song speeds up and slows down with precision, each layering through the other at will. A wicked effect that almost feels like a tornado threatens something sinister and delivers in the form of a massively quickened section directly after that soon succumbs to a soaring guitar solo before retreating back into itself again, the thudding of the drums mercilessly dictating the flow once more.
It is a damn fine song that perfectly captures music’s ability to paint a sonic picture that is restricted only by your imagination. And mine has gone into overdrive!
Ancestors is next out of the gate and for some reason I have a feeling this could be the token ballad of sorts, by virtue of the tile alone.
But of course, Soulfly don’t do ballads, as made obvious by the first guitar chords that dominate from the outset of the track.
I may have already said it, but Max is on fire with his guitar playing on this album. We always knew the big fella could play, but the work on Totem is next level.
Fuck my oath.
More guitar squeals and tempo changes abound during Ancestors, highlighting the diversity in Soulfly’s approach to music. An almost demonic vocal effect growls in select places of the track before a more subdued guitar approach offset with spluttering effects allow Ancestors to resonate to a vibrating finale that leads into Ecstasy Of Gold.
This song threatens to veer into unfamiliar territory briefly before the familiar chugging of instruments sets things back on course and directly back into beast mode without barely skipping a beat.
Ecstasy has never felt so good, and Max knows we know it.
Soulfly XII is the obvious surprise without being a surprise packet.
Those familiar with Soulfly will know that every album has had an instrumental track, but Soulfly XII is significantly different to most of them.
Indulging Max’s love of 80s goth guitar chords and synthesisers, the song showcases a different side of Max’s musical psyche and is a delicate and poignant song that has little in common with the remainder of Totem.
I’m not sure if I like it, but I definitely don’t hate it, which is a win as far as I’m concerned.
All good things must come to an end, and Spirit Animal is just that for Totem.
At over nine minutes, it promises to be a war of attrition, but the highly atmospheric and soaring sounds of the intro threaten to sweep you away into another land before the first sixty seconds is even done.
From there it’s all metal venom, with a prolonged opening section falling under the weight of a series of layered growls from Max that could be saying anything.
He backs off enough to lay the foundation of chuggness before the guitar veers off in its own direction, dragging Max once more into the fight.
This, too, could almost be classified as an instrumental thus far, but one infinitely more in tune with chaotic aggression than the previous offering.
Max eventually finds his voice and seems determined to go out on his own terms rather than be backed into an instrumental corner.
It is an impossibly irresistible track which epitomizes each of the nine songs before it. Just when you think you find a pattern or routine to the music, Soulfly do their best to throw you a curveball.
Totem is heavy metal at its finest, an overwhelming triumph of family values that has searched through the past to shape the future.
It is familiar enough in the right places to be unidentifiably a Soulfly record, but also veers off in enough musical tangents to show to the world that there is much life left in the name Max Cavalera.
But who would have dared to suggest otherwise?
