Power. No, not power in the flamboyant nature of a curl-adorned Italian cosplayer wielding sword to fire-breathing dragon. Power. The fast-twitch response to anticipating joints bearing weighted-iron that engorges relaxed fibers with blood, with breath—this is where Harm’s Way lives. Straight-edge, hardcore, beatdown, just a few of the words that explain Chicago’s own and their method of compressed and concerted attack. Not known for subtlety, Harm’s Way continues to find diversity in expression, developing studied and succinct musical movement patterns between albums at a slow and steady pace. Training counters time but not without effort. Common Suffering, however, makes moving mountains seem not like a challenge but a necessity.
For the better part of the last couple of decades, the Hulk-toned unit that is Harm’s Way has cranked out four previous shakes of high-gainz hardcore. A furiously-pumped Mark Z bro-splained 2018’s Posthuman as not “ask[ing] for your acceptance or forgiveness, only that you give it a chance to bash your fucking face into a facsimile of [its] cover art.” Common Suffering similarly does little to introduce itself before applying thick-riffed and industrial overload via a space-less and decibel-loaded thrust (“Silent Wolf”). Got something to say about that DR? How about you just shut up and lift a little more? The sheer weight of the breakdowns may exceed your 1RM at first (“Denial,” “Devour”), and the prospect of adding additional plates of massive industrial magnitude (“Heaven’s Call,” “Terrorizer”) may seem daunting, but out of the pulp you will arise cast of carved and rippling sinew.
In a fortified routine of concentric chug-laden crescendos (“Denial,” “Sadistic Guilt”) and eccentric, mic-fizzled shouts (“Hollow Cry,” “Cyanide”), Harm’s Way finds a familiar and ferocious cadence. Yes, it’s true that the chorus cries of “DEVOUR ME, DEVOOOUR MEEEE” and “TERRORIZE THE ENEMY, THE ENEMY IS YOU” strike on the more anxious and embattled side of the emotional spectrum than older full-flex tunes like “Human Carrying Capacity” or “Become a Machine”. The bravado façade cannot null the need to feel forever, and as anyone who ticks along the clock a little further knows, life will face you with challenges you never knew were part of the program. Harm’s Way just happens to have their cake1 and eat it too, finding catharsis like fist to a heavy-bag while grunting “LIKE CYANIIIDE, SHATTER THE EARTH” (“Cyanide”) or “I LOOKED INTO THE EYES OF A DEMON AND I SAW MYSELF” (“Sadist Guilt”). Try it. It works.
But even Harm’s Way knows that a rest day proves important to long-term mass accumulation. Post-hardcore in ideology but through the same lens as 2015’s Rust, mid-album groover “Undertow” features an alt-rock-inspired clean female croon2 that presents an eerie contrast to the Heracles-bodied Crowbar shuffles that pepper much of the rest of Common Suffering. Frontman and certified hard-body James Pligge finds a softness in expression too with the restrained and introspective closer “Wanderer.” However, Harm’s Way never loses edge to histrionic metalcore malaise, finding a grounding growl in the dissonant and lingering chugs from the drop-tuned duo of Nick Gauthier and Bo Lueders—through the skin-tight master, lumbering chords land with a satisfying fizzle (“Denial,” “Sadist Guilt”). Though against the loudness inherent finding the equally heaving bass crumple can prove difficult (“Silent Wolf,” “Heaven’s Call”), which makes guitar-light drop-outs into near full industrial territory (“Cyanide” bridge, “Terrorizer”) a welcome form of additional tension.
An overwhelmingly physical experience, Common Suffering demands a lot of a listener unacquainted with the surprisingly dynamic routine of force-inducing hardcore that Harm’s Way practices. If Rust saw Harm’s Way embracing industrial energy to enhance their brooding, beatdown ideals, and Posthuman saw a further honing of Godflesh influences to amplify grooves meant for nu metal but expressed with real aggression, Common Suffering unites these focuses under the more sullen nature of hard fuckin’ times. The past few years have generated albums that harp on specific themes of mistrust, frustration, loss, hopelessness—that’s not going to change as long as the world sucks, by the way—and Harm’s Way has chosen to respond with feet planted, hands firmly gripped, and exhale timed for maximum output. And though this may not represent the easiest-to-digest version of their sound, nor the most successful, it strikes with an energy that’s unstoppable in its own way. Make sure you’ve got a spotter for your headphones once you press play—this thing is massive.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 3 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Metal Blade Records | Bandcamp
Websites: harmswayband.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/harmsway
Releases Worldwide: September 29th, 2023
