Much is made of a particularly volatile "Old School" vs. "New School" rivalry that currently divides many members of the heavy metal community. It is no wonder that a label like Earache Records finds itself in the middle of the tension. Earache, for so long a beacon of promulgation for the most marginalized and extreme of metal's voices, has decided to open its doors to a bit more variety of heaviness - now the bruising death metal of Morbid Angel must share a label with the assaultive, extreme dance noise of Ultraviolence, just as grindcore gods Napalm Death now have a forced affinity with the heavy music-hip hop hybridity of Dub War. Touted by Earache as the nails-chewing, fireeating rookies of this new school camp is the band Pulkas, four fellows from Great Britain who are being hyped as a meshing of Tool and the Deftones. Sure, there are similarities, in that both bands utilize dynamics to juxtapose their various degrees of heaviness, but to dismiss this band as a poor man's version of A-list stars is an injustice indeed. In short, Pulkas should be seen for what it is, a band exploding with enough contagious and visceral energy to utterly annihilate wherever they play each and every night, a band that is not only an asset for a burgeoning new metal scene, but a much needed turbocharged kick to the collective ass of a sadly lagging rock-n-roll community at large.
Greed, the first album by Pulkas, is as solid and tight an album as you will find for a band's first outing: mature, energetic, and fairly diverse. But despite its diversity, it tends to follow a fairly simple formula, what I dub the "Uh Oh, Dad's Pissed" approach to music composition. Think of your own father for a moment, who more than likely possessed an uncanny knack for stoically absorbing and ignoring the vast array of miscellaneous shit upon which he stumbled and sometimes tripped. Not unlike a timebomb, however, the continuous suppression of anger was certain to reach the end of its fuse - the proverbial straw that breaks the camel's back - and with the arrival of D-Day came the domestic equivalent of a war: all the anger bottled up for an indeterminate amount of time was suddenly abjected, forced out, and anyone within a few miles of ground zero had to deal with the aftermath.
Sound familiar?
The CD opens with "Loaded," a rolling bass line and simple three note progression on the guitar that lulls the listener to a comfortable complacency despite vocalist Luke Lloyd's menacing tone, only to reach the chorus - the opening of the floodgates - that is the expulsion of constrained anger. Upon hearing it, you cannot help to be scared yet pissed at the same time. And that is one of the things that really wins me over about Pulkas, its ability to translate its anger, through the music and poetic lyrics, to the listener. In other words, many metal bands feign anger for the sake of seeming angry, succumbing to what they interpret as merely conventions of this particular genre. Pulkas, however, really is mad, and this genuine aggression in musical form is cathartic for both the artists and the listeners.
And that is the vibe of the entire album: a meticulous ascension towards some roaring climax that chugs its way throughout the entire song, only to pause for a split second to repeat the process or to continue where it left off with the following track. Too much of a good thing, however, can tend to get a tad burdensome, as a few of the songs offer nothing unique, although they do coincide with the driving emotions that fuel the album. Yet rookie shortcomings such as this are expected (which is why I can forgive the Deftones Adrenaline, which I consider to be quite drab and inferior to this album).
Pulkas' Greed is a sterling rookie effort that should not be missed. If this is the future of metal, then I can sleep a tad easier at night. I think you will, too. Do yourself a favor and give this CD your attention.
