Sutras exist throughout ancient Indian literature—Brahma sutras, Dharma sutras, Yoga sutras—as aphoristic guides for various aspects of life. Often taking the form of expressions meant as repetitions, these collections thrive under continuous and ritualistic study, revealing meaning as life unfolds around their brief utterances, much like any religious quip. Yakuza over the course of their 20-plus year career explore through the duality of reverent and incendiary identities how sound too can transform through iteration. Having not yet graced the halls of AMG, and generally living on the outside of the metal limelight, Yakuza‘s hazily hypnotic, startlingly shredded, and warped woodwind take on metal will catch you off guard. Sutra will help you find the light.
Now 11 years after their last outing, the Chicago quartet Yakuza, having stood the helm of a strange metal altar, rises again to distill their metropolitan yet otherworldly sounds, another step along the ever-present path. Before the MENA-scaled and drone-carried Messa could charm a snake or the urban misery of White Ward could establish a jazz lounge in a gothic hell, Yakuza chiseled through trial and riot to help pioneer metal with a Coltrane1 edge. Their roots from Amount to Nothing through Samsara run blue in the lungs with the squeaked sax chaos and punk bravado of Painkiller gelled against bright and warbling mathy post-hardcore builds and sludge thick trudges. Seamlessly Yakuza wove shades of increasing wisdom into their time-dilating devotionals, worshiping a similar yet differently scented path than the equally psych-fragranced OM with 2010’s Of Seismic Consequence shining brightest. Idiosyncratic, hypnotic, and just plain cool, Yakuza beats a drum that no other band really can.
Though plenty of trigger words for the attention-challenged pepper descriptions of what Yakuza offers, Sutra leans on classic riffs and vocal dissonance to attempt to tether the mind through its journey. Thick and crunchy guitar tones blare through cranked stacks to call to attention wandering minds at the onset (“Alice,” “Into Forever”). Wielding volume as a weapon, guitarist Matt McClelland’s (Sons of Famine, ex-CorpseVomit) grimy, blown-out presence on punchier Carcass-riffed numbers (“Alice,” “Burn Before Reading”) blazes in teetering opposition to his jangling, hypnotic duets with hand-plonked tribal rhythms and effects-echoed sax drones (“Walking God,” “Never the Less”). Strapped with reed-tacked brass and pedal-hooked mic, frontman Bruce Lamont2 casts carefully clashed tones, building tension with step-under chants (“2is1”) and ear-scraping woodwind whinnies (“Psychic Malaise”). Kneading every moment with skronk and power gives Sutra the rise it needs.
Neither truly a detriment nor indulgence to the longer-term Yakuza enjoyer, Sutra, true to its name, can often feel like an ode to various stages of the Yakuza existence. The higher gain fester of bass that infects jagged guitar runs gives a related but distinct enough face to tracks that were recorded through a different lens by mostly the same minds (“Echoes from the Sky,” “Burn Before Reading”). New to the band but not to the scene, bassist Jerome Marshall (Contrition, Hatemonger) possesses a rumble that expands both the psychedelic low end and the 70s rock riding high end of his pocket (“Waking God,” “Never the Less”). “Embers” and “Capricorn Rising” embrace the drum circle post-metal that has been a highlight many times prior, but time has weathered Lamont’s baritone croon and frenzied shouts with a gruff that only age can provide. And the cutting chord strums that speak of whimsy and wonder read as a love letter to their scrappier, math-leaning beginnings (“2is1,” “Echoes from the Sky”). Yakuza can’t stop being Yakuza.
The experimental mindset that inhabits these metal monks ensures Sutra teases your musical brain with uncountable reasons to return. Unfortunately for Yakuza—and undoubtedly intentionally—Sutra will not sink in after one listen. Like any meditative practice, sitting with Sutra will leave you with questions, frustrations, but, eventually, a semblance of a world where it all just works. In that regard, it shares the same basic problem as any Yakuza release, but have a little faith—or don’t. Your time is yours. Whatever the case, although Sutra doesn’t supplant the peaks of this storied band’s catalog, it’s a very good treat I never expected to get and will function as a great gateway for new Yakuza listeners. And, with a little luck, the energy on Sutra will help emerge a new effort sometime this decade. 11 years is a long time to wait!
Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Svart Records | Bandcamp
Websites: yazkua.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/yakuzadojo666
Releases Worldwide: May 19th, 2023
