Album Review: 6:33 - Deadly Scenes

There are certain concepts of art that cannot be appreciated by youth. I don't say that as a way of denigrating the tastes of young listeners, implying that those with more years under their belts have superior opinions, but merely as a realization that some wisdom does come with experience. I know this from my own, where certain musical ideas seemed utterly incomprehensible when I was still finding my way. One of those was the concept of the avant-garde, a devil-may-care attitude that does not exactly mesh with the concepts of youth. Yes, it can be rebellious, but there is a sophistication that comes with pretending there are no rules that does not necessarily comport with the attitude of wanting to break them all. Avant-garde music often gets lumped in with progressive music, which is not an entirely accurate way of looking at it. Though they do share common traits, there is more to being avant-garde than the average progressive metal fan would know.

6:33 are an avant-garde band, one that tears down every convention of music, but in a way that it calculated for maximum impact. “Hallelujah” is a perfect example of this, opening with a hymnal exaltation to the Lord, before a sinister guitar line comes in and completely turns your expectations around. The introduction of a short blast-beat is the devil to the lyrics' angel, which gets even weirder when circus organs and pop melodies come in. Decoding a structure from all of this is pointless. There isn't a logical connection to be drawn from one moment to the next, other than the arrangement being made to put the maximum amount of cognitive dissonance into your head. A song like this is designed to make you uncomfortable, which “Hallelujah” certainly does. The good news is that it does so in a way that is undeniably interesting.

“Ego Fandango” follows suit, throwing a panoply of sounds together to form a bizarre mixture of hard rock, soundtrack music, and a plenty of Gothic atmosphere. It's all interesting to listen to, until you realize that the band is letting their best moments come and go without doing anything to highlight them. There is a piano motif that comes in midway through the track that sounds like the bastard child of Danny Elfman and Jim Steinman, and should have been the lynchpin for a section of a song that would be overwhelming with its absurdity. Instead, it is played through twice, and then never surfaces again. While I appreciate the artistic statement behind such decisions, it's difficult to listen to a great moment be thrown away as though it didn't matter.

“The Walking Fed” is the most linear composition, which in some sense makes it the least interesting. Compared to the dramatic twists and turns the other songs take, the straight-forward nature of it is a bit jarring, which I'm sure is why the song was placed where it was. There is an interesting collage of thundering drums throughout, but that's about all there is of note to the song. It lacks, even for a few fleeting seconds, the sparks of manic ideas the other songs bring to the table.

The collage-like nature of “Deadly Scenes” makes it hard to properly assess. There are moments of utter genius, and other times when the pieces seem thrown together like a desperate chef with only scraps left in the pantry. Overall, I would say that the album might not be the grand artistic statement the band is aiming for, but it's one of the more interesting times you will have listening to a record. It also reminds me of what I always envision Devin Townsend's music sounding like when I hear people rhapsodize about him. I've never understood the appeal, because his music is not really progressive or avant-garde. 6:33 is what Devin's fans proclaim him to be. They are also far more intriguing to listen to. I won't say “Deadly Scenes” is a great record, but it's certainly worth checking out. You've probably never heard anything quite like it.