Thrash? Really, Saviours? The recent resurgence of run'n'gun thrash metal has spawned many nascent spandex-clad spitfires over the last couple of years. Until recently, it seemed to afflict only the relatively young-- a generation tired of working through Sabbath and ready to take it up with the Dark Angel. With Accelerated Living, Oakland's Saviours have fallen prey to the same tri-wristed beast as this younger crowd, dialing down the sludgy thwomp of their previous work, and thrashing about for a whole LP. It says something about Saviours' talents as a band that a fairly sharp turn like Accelerated Living doesn't totally suck, but it says something else about the band that the best compliment you can pay to their mini-Mustainery is that it's very, very reverent. This is a band still looking for an identity to call its own, and as such, the restless Accelerated Living feels decidedly transitional.
After a couple of LPs and EPs apiece, Saviours seemed to hit on something with 2008's Into Abaddon, a potent blend of Brit-metal triumph with gnarled Southern scum. They thrashed, too, but tendon-tearing riffage wasn't the name of the game. By making the jump from boggy, expansive muck to this insistence on whiplash, Saviours have shed a good deal of the dynamism that made them one to watch in the first place.
Like any good thrash metal record, Accelerated Living does zero to 60 right, blasting off admirably on the breakneck "Acid Hand". But it's almost as if somebody snapped off the cruise control lever, and aside from a few brief bits of spacy respite, we're at 60 for nearly 50 minutes. Their singularity of purpose is admirable, but with its slate gray production and unerring tempo, Living feels like a chore by its halfway point. The hurried nature of the music leads to harried playing, and vocalist Austin Barber, who could do a number on the woozier, wider Abaddon, seems to be in a perpetual rush to get out what he's saying.
The best thrash records-- from the old guard, anyhow-- find a way to carve out a little room amidst the pummeling to insert personality, nuance, puke breaks. In that sense, the comparatively unrelenting Accelerated Living veers closer to one of the better records from a classic-era thrash also-ran, a little too concerned with bowling you over with speed to stop and think how they might bring you back for another go. One gets the feeling that's not a great concern of Saviours; whenever they pop up next, they may well be on to another genre altogether.
