Nostalgia is one hell of a drug, but as a creative tool, it can offer us the ability to look at the past to dig through elements that shine rose-tint or otherwise—or at least cover them with a modern spit polish. Not far removed from the idea of Brents’ chiptune grind explorations with Gonemage, Memorrhage explores the br-deng grumblings of Mudvayne, the hazy aggro-interventions of Deftones, and the stop-start core-isms of Zao classic,2 in search of nu meaning. Regardless of how the olde defame many of the turn of the century anti-metal-isms that the groove-laden, solo-inhibiting, tracksuit embracing popular movement established, the DigiTech Whammy and drop-tuned harmony have earned a place in the modern toolkit. Between chug and whir, Memorrhage looks to strike a careful balance of pastiche and progress.
Yet no matter the project, Brents can call it whatever he wants, he just can’t take the core out of Memorrhage. And that’s not a bad thing, as the man does the grindy churn to crushing breakdown well, which helps shake up the already worn path of bounce and groove that defines nu metal. In fact, if it weren’t for the tonal similarity that “Lost” and “Knurl” share with the mush-growled numbers that precede it, it’d be easy to confuse them as chug-forward Cara Neir or Sallow Moth outings. And though plenty of moments throughout Memorrhage could function as perfect backdrops to an AMV, WWF entrance, or Tony Hawk freestyle run, it’s the gut-churning breakdowns (“Reek,” “Brain Wield”) that skew the character of this sound enough to call Memorrhage as more than just an extended YouTube tutorial on how to make a Korn song with VSTs.
Memorrhage, though, can’t claim the nu-metal moniker without taking a few steps down paths best left by the wayside. Brents has made a career integrating weird sounds into his riff-forward and abrasive works, and to give Memorrhage that ‘of its time’ feel, he has leaned heavily on the turntable twist. Whether as accelerants to whippet-fueled bridges (“Reek,” “Lost“) or simply an accent as fashionable as a reflective stripe on a jean leg (“Finesse,” “Brain Weld”), the DJ abuse provided by Mr. Rager strikes frequently and fervently. On tracks that aim to unite misguided In Flames departures, Linkin Park anthemics, and eerie Dir en grey switch-ups (“Old Wave,” “Lunge,” “Utility”), the scratch and scurry plays against industrial and gentle breakbeat influences in a way that only have come together by re-assembling the past with a creative glue—the absolute guiltiest of pleasures.3
If you balk at the concept of Brent’s unholy fusion of Car Bomb guitar quirks against the recalled riffs of a radio-informed memory—including a closing suite composed of an alt-rock ballad (“Utility”) and rap (“Ex-Sprite”)—there’s little about Memorrhage that will convince you. But while memory holds the power to shield your ears from an aesthetic that has only brought you discomfort, it too holds the key to understanding how Brents could conceive of Memorrhage. Nothing is as we remember, but music persists as an encapsulation. And, over time, the faults we see in this sonic lineage reveal themselves as choices ripe again for the taking. So hold your head high and take a walk down Memorrage lane. What’s the worst that could happen?
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Big Money Cybergrind
Website: memorrhage.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: June 16th, 2023
