There’s a scene at the beginning of the (not exactly wonderful) movie ‘Prometheus’ that shows one of the Engineers sacrificing itself, breaking itself down at a molecular level in order to seed new life on a young planet. If you’ll allow this terrible excuse for an Alien prequel to serve as a metaphor, the late, great Welsh hardcore luminaries Bastions have proven themselves to be like the Engineers, having broken themselves into their constituent parts in order to seed new life elsewhere.
The first flourish of post-Bastions life came last year in the form of Terrible Love, a spectacular post-hardcore troupe also featuring former members of Grappler and Goodtime Boys. The newest seed to have bloomed from the Bastions lifespring is Ruetz, a two-piece formed in Australia by an Englishman and a New Zealander, now based in an undisclosed European locale. Like Terrible Love, there are recognisable strains from the members’ former bands, but ‘Melanoma’, their first EP, is a savage new beast with an identity of its own.
On their Bandcamp page, Ruetz plainly label themselves as ‘blackened hardcore’, and it’s hard to argue with that blunt description, even if that doesn’t exactly tell the whole story. Both black metal and hardcore feed into the glorious sounds on ‘Melanoma’, the former’s sheets of icy guitars and impenetrable blastbeats meshing with galloping d-beats and hoarse-throated yelps of the latter. However, Ruetz are no mere one-trick ponies, at points throwing in shades of post-hardcore and mathcore, like in the mind-bending Botch-esque guitar gymnastics in the latter half of ‘Waste’, or the churning post-metal soundscapes of ‘Low Liars’. Many bands who label themselves as ‘blackened hardcore’ are happy to peddle a straight up Discharge/Darkthrone mish-mash and be done with it, but Ruetz are a braver band and clearly understand that the ‘hardcore’ part of that equation needn’t be limited to crust punk.
Much of the credit in the way Ruetz defy genre conventions can be accredited to the thoughtful and dexterous guitar work of Matthew Watts (ex-Give Up). Though much of ‘Melanoma’ is an up-front assault on the senses, his riffs are not the indistinct and thuggish slabs of noise that many of the band’s peers concoct. Instead, bleak and delicate melodies permeate even when the drums and vocals are at full throttle, creating a foreboding and uneasy atmosphere that makes the EP a draining but ultimately rewarding listen. Regarding the drums and vocals, ex-Bastions sticksman Kieran Brindley (also of Years Of Abuse) puts on an absolute powerhouse performance throughout, managing the double duty with aplomb. The sheer level of intensity in the drum work on this release is intimidating in its own right, so to consider that the man could also drag out that level of raw anger in the vocal performance is staggering. Even contemplating the logistics of how he could pull that off live is head-spinning, and yet further testament to the level of bloody-willed commitment Ruetz summon for their art.
The EP is painfully brief at only a quarter of an hour long, though the sheer breadth of ideas found within its limited playing time is encouraging for the thought of a full length release at some point in the future. For the time being, Ruetz have crafted six devastating tracks that stand tall and strong even without the looming shadow of their members’ former bands hanging heavily over them. The weight of anguish buried within ‘Melanoma’ is matched only by its heart-stopping musicianship and ‘one-more-play’ moreishness. By cloaking themselves in utter darkness, Ruetz have delivered an EP that deserves its moment in the spotlight.
JAMES LEE