Written by Kep
Atræ Bilis – Aumicide
> Technical death metal
> British Columbia, CA
> Releasing April 19
> 20 Buck Spin
Vancouver four-piece Atræ Bilis burst onto the scene in the back half of 2020, right when we all were locked in our houses trying not to get sick. And, like many other folks, working from home with a lot of the rest of my life on pause, I was pouring myself into new metal releases on a weekly basis. I latched onto Divinihility and its 22 minutes of crispity crunchy tech like a goddamn leech, naming it the second-best EP of 2020—behind only Mære, who coincidentally are also releasing a new LP on April 19. Just over a year later came Apexapien, their debut full-length, and it didn’t disappoint, expanding the strong songwriting and overall sound of Divinihility to a larger package with even crisper production. Now, after what’s felt like an eternity of waiting (I know, it’s only been two and a half years), it’s time for LP2: Aumicide.
We generally expect a certain amount of growth and improvement to happen between a band’s LP1 and LP2, right? Well reset your expectations and hold onto your asses, folks, because Atræ Bilis have blown whatever you think is a normal amount of growth away with a double-barreled shotgun. Apexapien was a very good album but Aumicide is next level stuff in every respect, from concept to songwriting to execution.
Aumicide is actually a concept album—a grotesque tale of a human subject made to be godless through futuristic experimentation—though you won’t generally be able to tell that from a casual listen without the lyrics at hand. That’s fine, though, because they do manage to create a consistent soundworld that feels unique, incorporating electronic elements into their pre-existing trademark blend of tight, machine-like technicality and organic malformations. They’ve gotten more dissonant here, with lines and that feel sharper and more abrasive. There’s a pervasive sense of the cybernetic in the stuttering effects applied to vocalist Jordan Berglund’s roars and David Stepanavicus’ guitar in various places (first heard at 1:29 of “Hell Simulation”), and an steely inhumanity about the merciless meter changes and angular directional shifts.
The whole package sounds bigger and meaner than ever, Stepanavicus’ guitars taking center stage with tone that is simultaneously extremely thick and wickedly sharp—just monstrous sound that speaks to the his prowess as much as to that of Christian Donaldson (Crytopsy), who handled all production duties. The rhythm section of Luka Govendnik on drums and Miles Morrison on bass is a powerful one, Govendnik in particular turning in a stellar performance that’s as precise and clean as possible over the glut of meter and tempo shifts the band covers, while Morrison’s active bass lines hum so aggressively it’s almost like a revving engine. Spearheading everything is Berglund, whose presence is commanding at every turn—especially when he goes for his most brutal lows, like in the slammy sort of passages in “Inward to Abraxas”.
Pick a track at random and proceed to be pulverized by some of the catchiest brute force tech riffs you’ve ever heard. Atræ Bilis even manage to make intro track “Protoxenesis” a banger—if more bands wrote intros like these guys then I wouldn’t complain about intros so much!—using it to set the scene for the album with a combination of unnatural atmosphere, harsh grandeur, mechanical technicality, and punchy hits that lead directly into the skin-shifting meters that open second track “Hell Simulation”. “Salted in Stygia” goes from a groovy syncopation-heavy start to a highly atmospheric middle that uses chant-like cleans in tandem with the harshes. “To Snuff the Spirit Guides” pulls techdeath up against the uber-dissonant approach of bands like Ad Nauseam, while “Through the Hologram’s Cervix” is a relentless, high energy assault that feels like it could be influenced by everything from Dying Fetus to early The Faceless. The back end of “A Kingdom of Cortisol” gets more mid-tempo and chuggy with it, setting the headbang bait trap before tossing in lacerating fretboard acrobatics and guitar wails. And they’ve got plenty to offer beyond just (amazing) tech riffs: the quiet moments and somber expansiveness in “Monolith Aflame” are striking, the mostly-instrumental title track feels like a lament, and six-minute closer “Excruciate Incarnate” spends time being downright contemplative…when it isn’t beating you down with rhythmic hits over buttery smooth double bass runs.
Simply put, this is a techdeath record that both techdeath devotees and techndeath skeptics should enjoy. It’s got heart—a calloused, android organ enhanced by cords and steel, but heart nonetheless. Atræ Bilis are one of those bands that blends so much into their home subgenre that the whole feels like a brand new creation. Aumicide is an enormous, unholy cybernetic beast, brutish and unfeeling, prepared to crush and tear everything in its path.
THE BOTTOM LINE
You won’t find many sophomore leaps better than this one. Atræ Bilis have leveled up and delivered one of the most impressive albums of 2024 so far, taking the sound of their excellent debut and making it smarter, bigger, and nastier on every front. Aumicide is a frontrunner for best record of the year; don’t miss it.