Hate Eternal
Fury and Flames
Metal Blade
Erik Rutan honors a fallen bandmate with his most explosive Hate Eternal album yet
After his friend and former Hate Eternal collaborator Jared Anderson passed away in October 2006, Erik Rutan had to do what all of us have to do in our lifetimes—pull himself back up and get back down to living and doing what he does best, which just happens to be writing, performing and producing some of the most exciting American death metal of this decade. After producing, mixing and engineering countless bands since Hate Eternal’s 2005 breakthrough I, Monarch (OK, it’s more like 16 or so), Rutan admitted this past fall that when the time came to finally focus on his own musical project, Anderson’s passing was a huge influence.
Just how challenging Fury and Flames was to Rutan internally is something we can’t comprehend, but ye gods, dear reader, do we feel it on record. With the blunt force and cold, prodigious efficiency of an Anton Chigurh murder, not only is Hate Eternal’s fourth full-length a thrilling exercise in death metal dynamics, but it could very well be the band’s strongest work to date. It’s all there in the explosive opening track “Hell Envenom,” which kicks off with an ungodly, cathartic roar courtesy of Rutan, giving way to an absolutely monolithic arrangement. Seemingly multi-limbed new drummer Jade Simonetto makes us forget about Derek Roddy in a heartbeat, as Rutan and ex-Ripping Corpse bandmate (now second guitarist) Shaune Kelly lets loose towering, discordant tremolo-picked notes, creating a jarring fanfare atop the dense, concussive bottom end.
A subtle, almost Voivodian feel has been creeping into Rutan’s guitar work over the past few years, and it dominates standout “Fury Within,” which is built around a mechanical-sounding riff and a wonky yet contagious groove. Conversely, texture and blunt force meet head-on on “Bringer of Storms,” and the eviscerating “Para Bellum” is interrupted by a daringly gorgeous dual guitar solo, as if hearing an ornate instrumental amidst exploding mortar shells. All the while, Cannibal Corpse great Alex Webster fills in on bass, and his distinctive style helps bring more depth to the album, especially on “Whom Gods May Destroy,” during which we can hear those strings frantically plucked, as only he can do.
With death metal mostly centered on sounding and appearing imposing, there’s rarely any room for any genuine emotion other than anger, but the climactic “Tombeau (Le Tombeau de la Fereur et des Flammes),” for all its fury and flame talk, has Rutan opening up just enough to show a little soul in that deep-throated roar. Over the song’s unrelenting attack, when he declares, “You shall never be forgotten, you shall always be remembered,” we know exactly who he’s talking about, and we consider how amazing it is for the family of Jared Anderson to have such a fanfuckingtastic album dedicated to his memory. —Adrien Begrand
