Of all the heavy bands that get credit for having “jazzy” tendencies, few have legitimately ventured into jazz as deeply as Candiria. More than two decades ago, the Brooklyn quintet forged a remarkably cohesive blend of metal and hardcore with post-bop, fusion, hip-hop, and ambient noise. The timing is key, as Candiria emerged during an especially fertile period for metal, when the genre was being throttled into a kind of creative hyperdrive by musicians eager to find new angles on heaviness. It speaks volumes that Candiria’s twists on the form stood out so much given the climate—and that the band was able to sustain its hunger for exploration over a deliriously inventive five-album run from 1995–2002 .
On While They Were Sleeping, Candiria’s first album in six years, the transitions between chunky deathcore riffs and toe-tapping swing parts with horn arrangements may feel less dazzling than they once did, but that's only because the band performed them so flawlessly in the past. The execution remains as seamless as ever. Tellingly, Candiria only ever come off as dilettantes not when they resemble Mahavishnu Orchestra or Converge, but when they veer close to the radio-friendly melodies the Deftones have come to rely on far too much lately.
Like on their last two albums, 2004’s What Doesn't Kill You... and 2009’s Kiss the Lie, guitarist/songwriter John LaMacchia and frontman Carley Coma at times risk vocal cliches that are diametrically opposed to the death metal and hardcore grunts upon which Candiria staked a reputation. Thankfully, several distinguishing features guarantee that the songs on While They Were Sleeping will not end up on Active Rock radio anytime soon.
First, the new riffs don't have the polished sheen of the last two albums, hearkening instead to the slashing tones favored by the band's one-time contemporaries in street-tough hardcore acts like Madball, Merauder, and Biohazard. Likewise, subtle trimmings in the arrangements and mix ensure a richness that belies the music’s outer accessibility. The quintessentially anthemic “Mereya,” for example has not one but two jazz-flavored bridge sections with horns—each distinct from the other in the way the horns are first mixed up-front and then smeared to the outer edges of the stereo field to create a dreamlike atmosphere.
And even if While They Were Sleeping doesn’t quite blaze trails on par with the band’s classic catalog, the flute on “Wandering Light” and the radio static on “The Cause” show that Candiria aren’t merely reaching for novel sounds but genuinely searching for new expressions. Given how many times they’ve sculpted songs out of ambient noise in the past, the fact that “The Cause” breaks new ground in spite of its pedestrian ingredients—sound effect, riff, distorted screams, drum beat—shows what an achievement Candiria’s song structures truly are.
Lastly, there’s Coma’s breathtaking range, his voice essentially pulling the weight of half a dozen singers. And yet, even with Coma’s fluidity, the band makes room for vocalist Andrea Horne, whose backing vocals give the music that one extra push away from convention and towards transcendence—a critical ingredient in the album’s emotional impact given the insularity of its lyrical concept.
If you find Coma’s lyrics about a character named Mereya hard to fathom, you’re not alone: Even LaMacchia and longtime bassist Michael MacIvor have openly expressed their resistance to writing music to fit Coma’s storyline about a failed musician who rebels against New York City’s ruling monarchy. Inspired by current events like the Ferguson riots, Coma clearly intended for the concept to work on a metaphorical level. But Coma’s vision of New York isn’t as universally relatable as the substance underlying his central idea.
Sure, the riffs on this album recall the distinctly urban vibe of ’90s-era New York hardcore. But the fact is that Candiria have too much to offer to pin themselves to the mythology of the five boroughs. That said, the concept doesn’t intrude as much as Coma’s bandmates feared. When Coma sings, “No way I’ll go back to a beggar/So pay it up to hear me sing/Melodic waterfalls/Get with the protocol” on “Mereya,” it’s a fairly transparent indictment of the music industry. It’s also deliciously ironic that he’s doing so on a song where he and the band flirt with the commercialism they’re decrying.
Candiria has built up more than enough credibility to strike this kind of balance without stumbling. But after two albums where the band came close to losing touch with its essence, While They Were Sleeping goes a long way towards restoring its reputation as one of the most convincingly flexible acts that metal and hardcore have ever seen.
