When it comes to the niche within a niche that is epic blackened thrash/speed metal (bear with me for this one), the only band who comes close to touching Diabolic Night’s throne is Hexecutor. OK, I guess Bütcher and Hellripper need to be thrown into the conversation as well, but the point is it isn’t a crowded playing field. Back to Hexecutor, it isn’t often that we’re treated to new music from these French maniacs. Its been roughly five years since their last effort, Beyond Any Human Conception of Knowledge…. However, when Hexecutor release a new album, it isn’t just another platter to haphazardly turn on as background noise; it’s an event.
This brings us to the band’s third and latest album, …Where Spirit Withers in Its Flesh Constraint (man, do these guys like long album titles, or what?). Like Beyond before it, Spirit is yet another strongly ambitious outing of blackened thrash that ascends to new levels of brilliance, thanks to inventive songwriting, virtuosic musicianship, and unforgettable character. If this is your first time listening to Hexecutor, and you’re going in expecting yet another brainless Bathory clone, think again. Hexecutor pride themselves as masters of their craft, and it shows in every last nuance of this here album.
What’s perhaps most obvious on Spirit are the traditional metal undertones scattered throughout. Yes, they can be heard within the arrangements and melodies, but they’re clear as day in the guitar solos, courtesy of frontman Jey Deflagratör and newcomer Ricky Malevolent. The finesse and fluidity of these mini six string symphonies have me believe this band conjured the spirit of the late Savatage axeman Criss Oliva prior to recording this album. Sure, there are shades of Gary Moore, Randy Rhoads, and Michael Denner and Hank Shermann as well, but it’s the deceased Oliva brother whose spirit screams through the speakers on solos like those on “Les Lavandières de la Nuit” and the title track.
At its most thrashing moments, Spirit sounds sonically caught between the ’80s innovations of Sodom and Destruction and the ’90s orthodoxy of Absu and Nifelheim, blowing our heads clean off with punishers like “Dogue Noir” and “Paol Goz”, the latter emboldened by a wildly unpredictable arrangement in the tradition of early Fates Warning. This “epic” quality dominates the entire album, pushing it to the next level aesthetically and making this a true metallic feast for the senses. Being that Hexecutor never stay fixed on any one means of attack, it should come as no surprise that there’s some Mercyful Fate-esque blackened heavy metal scattered about (“Youdig (Perfides Frontières)”, “Kerdis Bras”), before the whole shebang closes with the blackened power of “Marion Tromel”.
Ever wonder what your favorite ’90s throwback black metal acts would sound like if they drew from the well of USPM instead of Teutonic thrash? One listen to “Marion Tromel” should do an exemplary job illustrating this alternate timeline. By the time the suite winds down, bringing this black-thrash inquisition to a close, one can’t help but be left in sheer amazement at the brilliance on display. Flesh might be constraining the said spirit in question that Hexecutor are singing, or rather rasping, about, but their diverse metallic stylings have damn near extracted it from their heads, hearts, and guitars, directly into our earholes. Heaven help us all.
10 out of 10
Label: Dying Victims Productions
Genre: Black/Thrash Metal
For fans of: Diabolic Night, Absu, Nifelheim
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