Here’s the Top 10 things I know about Psycroptic: 10) I’ve never heard them before. 9) They hail from Tasmania. 8) Tasmania is a real place. 7) They’ve shared the stage with some heavy-hitting Death Metal royalty. 6) They generally tend to garner positive reviews across the board. 5) Critics generally tend to use 11 musical styles to describe their musical style. 4) #5 and #6 scare me. 3) This was intended to be a Tasmanian Devil joke, but I decided to take the high road. 2) Top 10 lists are one of the Top 10 forms of subterfuge.
So… I’ve spent the last couple months intermittently locked in a room with The Inherited Repression, committed to finding out if all the hype is justified, and I’ve arrived at a few concrete assessments. At their core, Psycroptic is a Thrash band. Very modern, very intense, very technical, but a Thrash band nonetheless. David Haley is a fantastic drummer who could hold his own in any Death Metal band. I don’t particularly care for Jason Peppiatt’s dry, throaty bark, but I’m still going to resist that Tasmanian Devil joke. Look, I’m at a point in my life when I require my music to possess some elements of pure, unbridled emotion. Whether that be pain, misery and despair, hatred, love, sadness, anger… whatever the evening calls for. Psycroptic’s music contains no emotion whatsoever. Their primary goal is showmanship, and to their credit, they nail it. Each riff is an elaborate design, each track is a testament to the art of shredding, and I’m sure they’re a pleasure to watch in the live setting. It’s also a safe bet that any aspiring guitarist would find the level of Joe Haley an excitable challenge to ascend to. That said, talented musicians are a dime a dozen — I want songs. Psycroptic don’t have any, which ultimately means:
1) These guys are incredibly talented musicians, but their music is boring as fuck.
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