Mental Cruelty’s musical evolution since launching in 2014 is nothing short of astounding. Initially dealing in brutal slam with a deathcore twist, these Germans moved quickly into cookie-cutter symphonic deathcore before finding their footing again by prioritizing awesome songwriting and adorning more melodic accouterments. Now, it seems they’ve undergone yet another evolution, their early-Within Destruction and Lorna Shore core now blooming with Ensiferum’s and Brymir’s fun and fanciful exuberance and sprinkled with Mare Cognitum-esque atmospheric shimmers. While not another night-and-day transformation as A Hill to Die Upon was, Zwielicht nonetheless represents a starker contrast between records than I anticipated, and it largely works in Mental Cruelty’s favor.
Zwielicht finds success in its killer songwriting. Nowhere is this more apparent than in massive Song o’ the Year contender “Symphony of a Dying Star,” embedded here with the title track interlude as its companion piece. Evoking folk-flavored melodies favored by Brymir in their most recent work, “Symphony of a Dying Star” functions brilliantly as the righteous climax to an already monolithic record. Dense orchestrations embellish frolicking lead melodies—which later transform into kaleidoscopic harmonies as the song closes with not one, but two pitch shifts that would put many power metal choruses to shame—and smart transitions transfer that energy through a brief, but brutal, beatdown without losing any momentum. Other highlights include the gargantuan “Pest,” whose orchestral hits scaffold a staccato riff monstrous enough to level entire cities; the vicious “Obsessis A Daemonio,” which utilizes its orchestral layering to great effect while allowing ascendant blackened tremolos to cut through with surgical sharpness; and the immense closing duo “The Arrogance of Agony” and “A Tale of Salt and Light,” handily dramatizing a gorgeous conclusion as more Mare Cognitum melodies soar above everything else to ensure a bright, lustrous finish.
There are countless exquisite details woven into the remaining tracks to keep me engaged—be it a destructive riff (“Nordlys”), a delightful splash of cymbals (“Forgotten Kings”), or a spine-tingling melody (“Mortal Shells”)—but it is in these same tracks where I find Zwielicht’s most glaring flaws. The first and foremost of these is bloat. All but a select few songs here could easily shave a minute off of their runtimes and be no worse for wear. I’ve found myself bothered by this issue less and less with each revisit, but it never quite fades away completely. Additionally, it seems that during Mental Cruelty’s evolution from a cut-and-dry slamming deathcore band into this more sophisticated and multifaceted entity, their slammiest riffs and breakdowns lost some oomph. As long as Mental Cruelty continue to make slamming deathcore a priority in their palette, I’d like to hear more devastating payloads similar to those that made their debut, and more recent songs like “King ov Fire,” so explosive. As a final nitpick, this band needs to afford more breathing room to this cramped and compacted mix, otherwise the wall of sound inevitably loses its more intricate features.
Quibbles aside, Zwielicht is another triumph for Mental Cruelty. While I didn’t rate it quite as highly as I did A Hill to Die Upon, that may change with time as I find this record grows on me more with each day. Mental Cruelty is not to be trifled with, and I wait with bated breath for what new mutations lie in store for their next onslaught.
Rating: Very Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Century Media
Websites: mentalcruelty.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/MentalCruelty
Releases Worldwide: June 23rd, 2023
