Description
What is the exact so called marker for ‘evolution’ or ‘progress’? Is it
the constant dosing of additive solutions to a mountain of compounding
complex problems? The seemingly ever omnipresent and incessant human
need to ‘keep building’ something? Perhaps it’s the maniacal and
neurotic rearranging of preconceived structures and nearly passive
systems often unnoticed within one’s impossibly limited scope and
time-frame of existence.
Whatever one struggles to define evolution as, it’s as clear as Upper
Peninsular waters that Australia’s Diploid strives for and achieves such
a feat by example. In just the 10 minutes of material presented here,
they accomplish sounding both similar to, yet also nothing like a
gorgeous amalgamation of heinously violent influences. There are shades
of Assuck, NIN, Orchid, Weakling, The Body, Magrudergrind, Converge
among just a few potentials, yet the sheer explosive emotional ferocity
mixed with an incredible knack for left turn on a dime songwriting leads
the band deeply and firmly into it’s own unique voice and vision. A
triple threat vocal attack spews themes seemingly spanning starvation,
body image, paranoia, perseverance, dwindling resources (both personal
and global), coping mechanisms, isolation, and mental gymnastics to name
a few. An almost eerie, near electronic / post-industrial and
depressive yet urgent purple atmospheric hue cover everything, with
stitches of classic speed, thrash and death metal riffage holding
together an immense framework, jettisoning itself at 120 MPH (or perhaps
193 KPH..) straight into the abyss, tearing itself apart under it’s own
torrential weight of emotional release and fervor.
While human evolution or whatever one wants to pathetically attempt to
define our often disgusting, self righteous examples of ‘progress’ as
may be nearly impossible to accurately conjure, one thing is certain:
Melbourne, Australia’s Diploid exists as pertinent example of moving a
sonic signature and personal artistic message forward with unstoppable
force.
– Brandon Hill (Cloud Rat / Fantastique / Starved Relations)
