“My name is Clyde, and I arrive from beyond with terrible news.”
I’ll never forget the Wednesday that I saw the future. Bag, coffee, keys, phone, wallet in tow, I stepped to the porch as I’d done countless times, but down the path I saw staring back at me what appeared to be a Russian tortoise. With its gaze intense as one who had seen a thousand lifetimes, a small pneumatic lift carried and affixed the anguished being at eye level. I could see the morning sun glistening against titanium stitches in a war-torn shell and claws attached to arms for defense. A holograph appeared in front of me—a memory. Clyde cried out in anguish as a limp and head-cracked Ferox lay splayed out, beside him a paperboard sleeve that read simply Dissimulator Lower Form Resistance. Without language my mind began ringing.
“He’s dead. Ferox—my best friend—is dead. You must warn him.”
“Of what?” my thoughts raced.
“Let me show you.”
A ticking cymbal turned my head to the left. I was transported into a wasteland of contorted, lifeless bodies. My breathing intensified as a sick ass riff coursed through me. My black slacks turned to faded and shredded jorts. I could feel the gentle breeze against my freshly exposed arms, the rest of my upper body covered only by a sleeveless, tattered tee that read Whiplash.
“The ‘Neural Hack’ is complete. Now you know. Ferox has passed into a Coma of Souls. This is his Punishment for Decadence. He once thought the riff was his home, but it came to be his Nemesis. Warn him. Save him. Study the riff. Learn its angles.”
Clyde left me and Lower Form Resistance continued on repeat.
I’d encountered ripping thrash before, much of which had sounded in some way like Dissimulator. However, many quirks accompany the crossover-leaning tempo shifts that threaten necks across Lower Form Resistance (“Warped,” “Hyperline Underflow”)—the words progressive and rhythmically frantic come to mind. Philippe Boucher (Beyond Creation, Chthe’ilist) commands his kit with domineering precision, with blackened blasts giving way to skanky pit rolls (“Automoil & Robotoil”) and cymbal strikes signaling massive propulsion (“Neural Hack,” “Lower Form Resistance”). And riding right alongside his wild and dynamic snare, Antoine Daigneault (Atramentus, Chthe’ilist) plunks noodling runs behind spacious chord strikes (“Warped”) and furious pops behind galloping kick lines (“Cybermorphism / Mainframe”). Moments pass where the maelstrom seems to be nearing a steady. But it’s never long before one of these two dastardly players intensify the platform on which the mighty riff leans, turning a snappy stumble into frenzied and tackling strut.
Yes, ultimately, Lower Form Resistance thrives on the frightening, contentious, riff. Claude Leduc (Atramentus, Chthe’ilist), knowing this tool’s power to be both over-leveraged and under-thought, never shies away from breaking character with a Voivod-ian bright chord clamor (“Cybermorphism / Mainframe,” “Lower Form Resistance) or squealing hot lead lick. Similarly, Leduc manipulates the mic with both digital, vocoder-like screenings1 and a hurdling, deathy growl that dips toe into forceful, blackened realms2 on a dime (“Automoil & Robotoil”). Even when the vocals stray into cleaner, prog-borrowing croons, it’s in accentuation of elated cries or slippery slow downs, never quite overstaying welcome. Possessing the ability to wrap lengthy banger in whammy echoes (“Outer Phase”) or escalate creeping scale weeping into hairpin-turn tumult (“Cybermorphism / Mainframe”), Dissimulator makes every movement feel fresh with campy thrash and sci-fi exuberance.
“Clyde, the secret is to maintain a careful bend at the knee, a thoughtful crouch, one arm swinging back, one arm swinging forward as you enter the Thrash Zone.”
As my eyes opened back to the world and this message made its way to present-day Ferox, a smile came to Clyde‘s weathered visage. The proud tortoise began to dissolve back into, presumably, a happier timeline. Dissimulator challenges the energy that technical death-thrash leaders Revocation and Cryptic Shift bring to the masses while also standing vibrantly beside the timelessness of the thrash titans to whom they’ve written this love letter. It’s understandable, then, that Lower Form Resistance hits with heavy-handed nostalgia, grips with tension-testing songwriting, and lands with enough momentum to sweep the floor from under your feet. If you’ve listened and persevered, hold tight to the thrash rager that now sits hot in your catalog. And if you haven’t? Consider this a warning and brace for impact.
Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: 20 Buck Spin | Bandcamp3
Website: facebook.com/dissimulatorofficial
Releases Worldwide: January 26th, 2024
