Review: CRS & CIRROSIS - 'The Collector of Truths'
It’s a case of so close yet so far for CRS with their first album in 20 years, 'The Collector of Truths'.
By Daniel Lückhoff-Wessels
Published Thursday, 31 October 2019 13:25
Mexican Death-metal band CRS or (CIRROSSIS for those not into abbreviations) have released their first album in 20 years called 'The Collector of Truths' and, while all the parts are there, the final product just doesn’t live up to its potential.
Death metal, or metal of any kind for that matter, has always been divisive but one thing we can all agree on is that excellent production is a requirement, not a recommendation. After the first bar of 'Asfixia', I couldn’t help but think that something is missing. This is a death metal album after all, so where’s that make-your-head-spin-and-your-ears-bleed power?
The music’s there, the vocals are on point, and the musicians are clearly talented so theoretically this should be the perfect package. The problem boils down to its production. What should feel like a sonic tsunami that’s going to sweep you away no matter how hard you fight it ends up feeling like a limp demo begging for somebody to give it a make-over.
I must reiterate, I don’t think the music’s bad. You can hear the power hiding in 'Asfixia' and 'The Art of Breathing' is almost robotically accurate in its rhythm – it also has the best moments on the album which I’ll get to in a moment – but the overall effect is one of a cup of tea not left to steep long enough.
It’s somewhat ironic that the best moments on this album consist of a clean guitar which completely contrasts the distortion fest that we’ve become accustomed to. 'The Art of Breathing' opens with an almost John Frusciante-esque riff that slowly builds to incorporate a myriad of interesting harmonies before being swept aside by the metal machine. It comes in again a bit later like refreshing rain on a hot, humid day and leaves as quickly making you wonder if you’d imagined the whole thing.
'The Collector of Truths' is a mine of untapped potential that will probably never see the light of day, untouched by the mixing desk for reasons impossible to fathom.