Death metal is a feeling, not just a style. Yes, it has parameters. It includes growling vocals, blastbeats, and riffs that ideally should sound like murder. No, it is not all metal that is abrasive, a shorthand laymen often employ. Out of metal's many subgenres, death metal sounds the biggest and most masculine. That's neither positive nor negative. The music has simply evolved that way since Death and Possessed pushed thrash to harder, faster extremes in the late 1980s. Hear enough death metal, and one will recognize it, even "get it," without needing a definition. (Most music is like this.)
Suffocation have had that feeling from the start. Formed 20 years ago in Long Island, the band has never let up. Suffocation are unique in death metal for being technical without sacrificing atmosphere. Many metal bands are more fleet-fingered than Suffocation. But generally, the more musical gymnastics a band undertakes, the less edge it has. Death metal pioneers like Obituary and Asphyx sounded evil as hell with riffs children could play. The genre does achieve a certain rush sometimes by flinging thousands of notes at the listener. But Suffocation remain one of the few bands to do so well. Their secret? Not playing too fast. Sure, drummer Mike Smith whips up a mighty storm. But it's not so fast that he loses power. He is renowned for inventing a style that involves hitting snare, hi-hat, and kick drum all at once. Essentially, Smith turns his kit into a jackhammer. His bandmates gear up and down with him in perfect synchronicity. Suffocation are like a gigantic vehicle with a very rough ride.
Blood Oath best crystallizes Suffocation's formula. The band has finally gotten production that's powerful yet clear. Subpar sound has hampered much of Suffocation's career. Here all the instruments are balanced and legible. Frank Mullen's growls are surprisingly understandable. Once again he spews tales of madness, megalomania, and paranoia. Suffocation still evoke a bunch of guys jamming together because there's nothing else to do in Long Island. They just got really good at their instruments. Tracks like "Images of Purgatory" and "Cataclysmic Purification" are not songs so much as battering rams. Yet they often bleed bursts of melody-- keening, upper-register laments. These drape atmosphere over the downtuned bulldozing underneath. Terrance Hobbs' axe rips out big hunks of riffs. Warm, thick lines flow from bassist Derek Boyer like blood from a large animal. Suffocation have many imitators; an entire metal subgenre, deathcore, essentially rips them off with a commercial slant. But nothing substitutes for the original. It's not new and improved so much as older, bigger, and a hell of a lot stronger.
