Cynic | ‘Traced In Air’

Imagine how you’d feel if the weight of one of the most legendary albums in the underground was on your shoulders. Well, one can sympathise with Paul Masvidal, and almost begin to understand how year after year - fifteen of them, in fact - ticked by without a follow up to ‘Focus’, the far out lodestone that began with death metal and ended up interstellar.

Time though hasn’t necessarily been kind to ‘Focus’. Its production in particular was never really up to scratch, and sounds hollow and underpowered even for its era. Plus - and here’s a humdinger - much of the album’s appeal comes from merely a handful of it’s tracks. Cause if you’re honest, it’s only really ‘Veil Of Maya’ and ‘Uroboric Forms’ that blow you totally away. Magical and strange though the rest naturally is.

Masvidal has finally stepped out from his self imposed exile, and justified every single moment of the fifteen year hiatus. If we needed reminding just how fucking good he and Seans Reinert and Malone are at what they do, this album lays it down in effortless fashion. The band’s colour - always their hallmark - is there in its full spectrum, infusing every song with a glow and sheer enthusiasm for the tracks that puts younger bands to shame.

Quality, and not quantity, is the watchword. Thus, the early brace of ‘Evolutionary Sleeper’ and ‘Integral Birth’ will leave you gasping: the latter with it ‘million times’ masterhook, and the former with it’s destined-to-be-classic refrain. Everywhere on the album is detail, interest, ingenuity and a sense of wonder (to quote a certain someone) that shows a band almost inquisitive at the amazing shit they’re able to do. There’s a sense of love in it, a sense of real warmth. Dont crap yourselves - you’ll understand when you’ve played it repeatedly, which comes as a guarantee.

Vocals may well be the stickler, though it’s no wierder than King Diamond in the final analysis. Masvidal has chosen a three layer, vocoder effected and predominantly high pitch delivery. It’s strange, though quickly familiar, and adds even more to the uniqueness of his project. Death grunts do appear, one suspects as a necessary concession to the past, but they’re well placed and appropriate.

The bottom line is that it’s beyond superb. Instrumentally it’s a treat, as an idea it’s stimulating, and as pure atmosphere it continues where it’s predecessor left off somewhere near Alpha Centauri. To be sure, if the greys have iPods, this is what they’re listening to. On a more prosaic level, the production is great, with woody drums and natural, mid heavy guitars, unaffected by the manic compression that everyone’s falling over themselves for these days. Put simply, Cynic know better. And with their innate talent, they’ve no need for tricks.

Finally, the ultimate proof of this record’s importance can be summed up in the way the band will probably feel most vindicated to hear. It is better - far, far better - than ‘Focus’. And after an assessment such as that, no more needs said.

4.9 / 5 - Ciaran Tracey ::: 21/09/08