Band:	Alkaloid
Album:	Numen
Style:	Extreme progressive metal
Release date:	September 15, 2023
A review by:	ScreamingSteelUS

01. Qliphosis
02. The Cambrian Explosion
03. Clusterfuck
04. Shades Of Shub-Niggurath
05. A Fool's Desire
06. The Fungi From Yuggoth
07. The Black Siren
08. Numen
09. Recursion
10. The Folding
11. Alpha Aur

There's something to be said for unbridled aggression as a form of expression (bonky caveman riffs is people, too), but very often the results are more interesting when death metal's technical extremes manifest in a less inhospitable form. For Alkaloid, it's a weird, groaning slither, a cosmic-cool crunch of science fiction made sound. Though staffed by some of the most superhuman (and prolific) technicians in the metal scene today, Alkaloid write for intrigue rather than intimidation; whether it's a 2.5-minute computerized instrumental ("C-Value Enigma"), a Rush-like anthem to awakening ("Kernel Panic"), or a 20-minute monstrosity of molluscan mayhem ("Rise Of The Cephalopods"), Alkaloid have always expressed themselves in a manner that welcomes listeners, in spite of all the compositional exertion and lyrical abstrusion.

Thus, just as The Malkuth Grimoire and Liquid Anatomy did, Numen manages to make ~70 minutes of progressive death metal fly right by, perching on the coveted convergence of complexity and accessibility. The basis of this sound always lies in interesting textures: the fortifying rumble of muted strings that opens "Qliphosis" is an immediate sign that Alkaloid's penchant for addicting sensations has been sustained, as has the belching, almost brassy distortion that has molded the guitar vanguard into something very distinctive over the last two albums. Numen is the first album without Danny Tunker, who left a couple of years ago due to family circumstances (and is still credited with contributions to "The Cambrian Explosion"), but Alkaloid are still well taken care of by Morean and Christian Münzner: each track features an exchange between wandering melodies and brutal clusters of shredding, underpinned by the always-evident skill of Hannes Grossmann and Linus Klausenitzer in the rhythm section. The bass-heavy, groovy, proggy death metal sound that resulted in solid walls of space-themed hits on those last two albums continues to characterize Numen.

In keeping with the mandate of a progressive band, Numen also exhibits some interest in continued growth. This album has a jazzier feeling, the product of some cool solo breaks and a pile of metal-nonstandard chord voicings and progressions. The band also conduct frequent experiments in rhythm, trying out some different song templates. As experiments, they have varying success rates; the boozy, warping stagger of "The Folding" ultimately dissolves into an eerie ambience, culminating in what sounds like the track playing in reverse, and this makes for a memorable highlight, but the title track sticks in an awkward rhythm in its chorus, with a bounciness that doesn't quite work for its overlong stay (although the underwater madman organ aesthetic is a point of interest on its own). "The Black Siren", a flamenco-inspired acoustic piece, serves as the album's interlude, and there is a general emphasis on providing instrumental accentuations where possible and addressing new mutations of pace that don't surface often in a death metal context.

Perhaps most noteworthy, however, is the increase in clean vocal parts; while The Malkuth Grimoire and Liquid Anatomy both made effective use of Morean's distinctive singing, Numen amps up the melodic content of each song, with more hooky choruses and a little more streamlining around those portions. Layers of his voice can be mesmerizing - it's hoarse, a little gravelly, but with a bit of Bon Jovi in it for making the centerpieces appropriately catchy, and they often sound mechanized to some slight degree, adulterated with robotic distortion. Some of the band's best hooks come on this album, such as in "Qliphosis" and "A Fool's Desire" - really every time Morean comes in singing is a highlight. But Alkaloid ups the ante even further on "The Cambrian Explosion": a whole choir strides in to deliver the chorus with a bizarre contrast that sounds like something straight out of Devin Townsend's playbook. While I'd like to say that it's not as cheesy as it would be on one of his albums, what with all this cosmic horror flying around, it's hard not to detect some amount of fun behind the scenes, especially when the song hushes up for a quick shuffle break a few seconds later. This choir enjoys a reprise on "Shades Of Shub-Niggurath" as well, where it is a tad subtler and better integrated. These incursions are definitely the most unexpected moments on Numen, and also the ones I would have the most mixed feelings about encountering again later - I enjoy the effect they create on the two songs in question here, but I don't believe that Alkaloid's typical sound sustains that kind of vocal approach very naturally as a general rule.

Numen falters in a few of its propositions where its predecessors did not, and I feel that the writing is overall not quite as consistent, particularly in the heavier and more extreme moments. Nonetheless, Alkaloid has now stuck three albums that each offered some incredible moments of wizardly synergy; their baseline is a very high one and a very consistent one, and for whatever awkwardness or excess it may very occasionally suffer, Numen stands as one of the most engaging and technically impressive extreme metal albums of the year.