When your drummer leaves your band, what do you do? When you're Savannah, GA band Kylesa, and you drink as much as they do, you hire two new ones. Maybe they're just seeing double from all that alcohol, but the result has turned out much gnarlier than, say, The Allman "too many drummers" Brothers. With primal grooves and a veritable shower of ride cymbals, Jeff Porter and Carl McGinley no doubt make each band Kylesa tours with wish they had two drummers, too.
Two drummers in a band means twice the votes on drumming issues, so Porter and McGinley get an intro, outro, and "intermission" here to show off their chops. These aren't just flashy solos, though, as they weave fierce tribal rhythms that recall the percussion jams from Sepultura sets back in the day.
What's actually more admirable is the restraint the drummers exercise on the rest of the album. If you turn up the volume, you can tell they're there, but otherwise, they lock in with each other and let the riffs do the talking. The riffs are thick, dirty, and pulverizing, topped by vaguely melodic yelled vocals of both genders. Imagine Fugazi brawling with The Melvins and Eyehategod, with Remission-era Mastodon throwing in some kicks for good measure. This is sludgy stuff, but the riffs are catchy and direct. Previous album To Walk a Middle Course was a harrowing psychological ride, but Time Will Fuse Its Worth is more about the rock. If this album were a drink, it would be a Christmas ale with surprisingly high alcohol content that hits you fast between the eyes.
The production here is beefier than before, but the mastering somewhat negates that. Scott Hull (of Pig Destroyer fame) normally does an ace job on mastering, but this album is so loud and over-compressed that it loses some of its dynamics. Granted, practically every other release today has the same problem, so you might not even notice. Point is, these songs, strong as they are on record, probably crush live – and especially after five beers.
7.5/10
