Deafheaven - Ordinary Corrupt Human Love, album review: a rewarding, experimental journey

Deafheaven have always challenged the black metal label thrown on them. Their music may contain barely lyrics screamed through vocal chords padded with tar, kick drums that run a hundred miles an hour, and power chords aplenty, but their aesthetic and music has never complied with other black metal bands. Both the critically acclaimed Sunbather (with its vibrant pink cover) and New Bermuda included shoegaze sounds, borrowing from indie-bands (Johnny Marr has been cited as an influence by guitarist Kerry McCoy), and have often transcended the genre.

Ordinary Corrupt Human Love, their third record, continues the trend, but finds also finds the band more confident and experimental than ever. Yes, there are still heavy, overdriven, 10-minute-plus songs. However, they explore new territory throughout, turning up the delay and reverb effects, bringing on board a piano and even singing real words at moments. What’s most impressive is that although the record serves as a melting pot of ideas (often mixing many into just one, epic song), nearly everything works.

Take the album’s centrepiece, “Canary Yellow”. The song starts with dreamy guitar, breaks into screams and Dragonforce drums, introduces crescendoing guitar rifts, breaks down into a single twiddly guitar, then builds back into an epic ending featuring more screams, but this time backed by singing. Those last three minutes are heavenly, the vocals of George Clarke playing against the choral background sounding like a devil surrounded by angels.

The three other 10-minute tracks on the record – “Honeycomb,” “Glint,” and “Worthless Animal” – similarly trapeze the lines between metal, shoegaze and alt-rock, taking handfuls of inspiration from all. They make for epic, cinematic journeys, the latter making for a particularly great finish to the record. Then there are the shorter songs, reprieves that give the your ears a moment to recover.

Opener “You Without End” makes for one of their greatest tracks to date. Starting with the sound of the ocean (which also closes the album) a piano comes in, followed by slide guitar and a woman’s voice. You can imagine the song opening a Pink Floyd record, were it not for the distant screams that enter later. Come “Night People” and another woman enters the fray. Over a piano and tribal drums, she duets with a singing Clarke. You could imagine the song featuring on one of The Maccabees later records.

Ordinary Corrupt Human Love, then, marks a band brimming with confidence, experimenting with their sound, adding new textures at every turn. Sure, perhaps a few songs could have been tightened here and there, and the platitude of screaming does not always suit the sound, but the record certainly offers a rewarding journey for any listener.