EP Review: Gam - Iron Gauntlet
Reviewed by Eric Clifford
Let’s talk about two bands that I really like: black metal aristocracy Immortal and one-and-done death metal reprobates Infester. This album resembles both in one way or another, the frosty black and the underground death, in a union that, by all rights, i should be elated by. Unfortunately though...I'm sorry guys, if you happen to be reading this. But I really didn’t enjoy my time with this one.
The crux of it is just that Gam are sadly just kind of generic. They present four four tracks, and while each has merits enough to attain the level of “o.k”, nothing steps beyond that. “In The Absence of Light” starts out tasty enough, with a nasty introductory riff. It then drops into the sorts of riffs that mid 90s immortal might well have used to great effect but just...slower, less impactful. The song doesn’t really kick into high gear until around 1.53, when the frostbite sets in with a deracinating blastbeat deluge. But then it regresses back to more lukewarm territory, and the suspicion begins to creep in that Gam are capable of peppering compelling ideas, motifs and sections in here and there, but sustaining them for a song, let alone a full release might be beyond their powers for now. Still, this is probably the best song here, with the focus on black metal allowing them to spawn some misbegotten melodies that help buoy the song up over a six minute runtime that could have been substantially pruned had some of the less compelling minutes been ablated.
But then on the other hand, you have the next song. “Begging for the Whip” just goes on and on, sauntering forth to tap six minutes on the shoulder before it finally saw fit to relinquish its grip upon me. On it clomps, an exhibition of painfully typical deathgroove riffs, each as predictable as the sunrise, waddling about like a confused penguin, 4/4 time signature rigid as a holy mandate, towards a final imperfect cadence that strongly suggests the song walked into a room, forgot why it was there, and walked back out again. The introductory riff feels like the blueprint for “Where the Slime Lives” by Morbid Angel, the gaunt infrastructure of it with none of the rest of the architecture to make it interesting, with the rest of the riffwork being these somnolent chromatic patterns played with that particularly grinding breed of torpid lethargy that makes so many Six Feet Under albums such an endurance test. Six minutes isn’t a long time in the grand scheme of things, but little has made it seem so long as did this song.
The remaining two tracks are shorter and punchier than their immediate predecessor, but we’re still not dealing with anything particularly special overall. “Wounds of God” is a burst of basic but likeable black death propelled by an always-welcome speedy kick-snare drum pattern, and “Worship and Obey” drinks deeper from the putrescent well of death than does it’s cousins; it too stumbles a bit with mid-tempo moseying, but 1. it’s not six frigging minutes long and 2. It also spends more time at a more grievous velocity, interspersing the groove with the grind to maximise the impact of both. Each song does get my head moving in the moment, but neither leaves a lasting impression even over the many listens I’ve given this album, and nor does either track present me with anything beyond the stock-in-trade fundamentals of the style.
Really, there are only two things for which unreserved praise is due: the production, and the vocals. The guitar/bass tones on this album work in conjunction with each other to produce less a sound, than a sonic manifestation of a consuming lust for revenge. Low, growling, bent to the infliction of harm. It feels dirty, like a swarm of carnivorous plague rats squeezing through the speakers, crawling over the walls, worm-tails streaking the grime. The second point is the vocals; it’s here that the Infester reference comes to the fore. It is gifted to some death metal vocalists, those elite callers of the void, not to growl but roar. To bellow forth psalms of the underworld with spear-edged tongues, the language not of man, but of chasmic dwellers, keepers of forbidden knowledge who cauterise their own eyes lest the written word scour their minds of sanity. He sounds terrifying is what i’m trying to say. He has this gargling bellow reminiscent of some cretaceous ursine apex predator, and it’s here, above all else, that the bulk of the band’s strength lies.
Want to know something really stupid? I’ve been looking for the perfect drum sample for use in a few of my own projects. In particular, I need that high-tuned pingy snare so common to goregrind bands; I’ve found a few samples here and there, but the perfect one came to me when I accidentally dropped an empty toilet roll onto a metal dustbin. PONK! There it was, the sound I’d been looking for, just a loo roll and a bin away this whole time. Now, sometimes, when my phone isn’t sure how to classify a recording, it’ll just stick it with something else. In this case, it chose to stick those samples at the end of this GAM EP. What this means is that the most fun I had with this release was a bit at the end where I’m pissing about with toilet rolls and a bin. Am I being too pithy there? Probably, sorry, it just sort of comes out and I’m not always aware if I’m being mean when I’m more just trying to amuse, but the point is that fleeting moments aside I wasn’t exactly blown away by what’s on offer here. The good bits are solid enough but lack imagination and get anchored by fluff that lands anywhere between underwhelming to genuinely exasperating. It’s only about eighteen minutes in length but even then it would be improved with the snip of a few minutes here, a bit of musical liposuction there. Sorry guys. Better luck next time.
