Hasta La Muerte, the last album from Southern California death metal/hardcore hybrids Xibalba, showed a group challenging their peers to step up the heaviness while never losing sight of their humble beginnings. It sounded as though a hardcore band got locked in their rehearsal space with only their gear, Obituary's Cause of Death, and Crowbar's Broken Glass to pass the time. Muerte was less cerebral than death metal, meaner than sludge, and unsubtly knuckle-dragging and proud of it. Beneath Xibalba's ultra-tough exterior was a desire to advance their sound, even by adding armor to their older vessels. "Cold", which started out on a split with World of Pain and Ruckus as a chugging mosh song, became a hulking riff mass with Greg Anderson's guidance and additional guitars. The band emerges as an even more confident war machine with Tierra Y Libertad, streamlining their sound, cranking the tempos, and tipping the balance towards death metal. If Muerte was the beginning of the workout process, Libertad is where they come out swole as hell.
Where does this newfound vigor come from? Xibalba have clearly been studying the British death metal band Bolt Thrower's move from grind to death, and unlike crusties who lean towards metal, not just their rawer 1988 debut In Battle There Is No Law! Many of the album's faster moments sound not unlike 1991's grind-ditching War Master, and Xibalba's development mimics Bolt Thrower's on that as a whole. "Enemigo" establishes the album's direction promptly and with no mercy; that chug is undeniable. Most of the record is carried out with similar intent; the confidence in their playing cannot be overlooked. It's not just that they add more solos, it's that they've found a way to advance beyond listing their influences. Xibalba's penchant for groove is still evident even though their dances have become quicker and deadlier, which is primarily why these songs carry. "Invierno" has bounce for days, the closest death metal can get to being funky. The ending riff of "Si Dios Quiere" is just disjointed enough to sound a bit hazy, but still packs that hardcore punch, making for a beatdown whose impact you'll remember better than the conflict that set it off. It's hard to believe that Xibalba were the same band that made Madre Mia Gracias Por Los Dias, their 2010 debut whose production sounds downright anemic compared to Nails drummer Taylor Young's work on Libertad.
Muerte was primarily conceived for rough-housing, and few modern hardcore records serve that purpose better, but Xibalba also gave into a bit of experimentation. Some ideas worked better than others—the female vocals on "Mala Mujer" gave a new dimension to Muerte's agony, but instrumental piece "The Flood" was plodding along in search of a breakdown. Libertad's instrumental piece, "Pausa", is much shorter and serves primarily as a lead-in for "En Paz Descanse". Xibalba's restraint in this aspect pays off, as the focus stays on the death metal muscle. They only really extend themselves on Libertad's closer, "El Vacio". A lot of the sludge influence comes back on this song; most of it sounds like Pallbearer going back to basics, with dreary cleans and especially deep, longing vocals that could be on the next Skepticism record.
"Vacio" is Xibalba at their most alienated, and while they've never been more sure of themselves musically, there's hints throughout that they really want to shake up and challenge their audience. Most of the record looks inward, but "Guerilla" speaks of violent revolution with no uncertain terms. Vocalist Nate Rebolledo's call for unity against oppressors isn't a whisper: "I'm not a spick, a nigger, a cracker/...I am the pissed off human race/ We are here to scream 'fuck you!'" His vocals are the most obvious remnant of Xibalba's hardcore days, and they're needed for a direct proclamation such as this. And it's just the thing fans of hardcore, death metal, and, really, any form of heavy music need to hear more of.
Hardcore waxes on and on about brotherhood and sticking together, and isn't opposed to using violent metaphors to express such sentiments, but Rebolledo is speaking on a grander scale than bros looking out for bros. That may be harder to take than an accidental punch in the face at one of their shows. Some punk kid may cry "ACAB" because he got written up for open containers, but there are many who don't get off that lightly. Dan Seagrave's artwork for Libertad is another one of his classic dystopian war scenes, but Xibalba's war is not literal: it's about what your expectations of them might be, it's about pushing the limits of hardcore, it's about combating apathy. Helps when you've got sick riffs on your side.
