ZEAL & ARDOR

After establishing their cross-pollinated sound across three full-length records, ZEAL & ARDOR have reached the point of no return. Manuel Gagneux's blending of black metal and industrial-tinged alternative rock with the blues-steeped essence of African American spirituals provided a startling, fresh addition to heavy music's roll call of subgenres, and despite an occasional overreliance on well-worn NINE INCH NAILS tropes, each of his band's albums to date have added mystique to the myth. Now that ZEAL & ARDOR are a familiar part of the metal-adjacent furniture, Gagneux's task is now to add greater depths and broader horizons to his project's once unprecedented hybrid. For the majority of "Grief", he does just that.

It begins with a song that demonstrates how far ZEAL & ARDOR have come since "Devil Is Fine" (their 2016 debut). "the Bird, the Lion and the Wildkin" keeps its powder dry, preferring to explore the Spaghetti Western whistles and brooding ambience that haunt the edges of Gagneux's songs, rather than going straight for the jugular with huge riffs. "Fend You Off" goes a little harder with furious, garage rock guitars, multiple dynamic shifts and harmonized backing vocals that all feed into an eventual eruption into pitch-black fury. There is tension and restraint on display during "Kilonova" too: an ingenious, syncopated shuffle, it touches on progressive rock (of a distinctly modern hue) and even tech-metal, while still dwelling squarely in ZEAL & ARDOR's bullet-strewn wheelhouse. In contrast, "are you the only one now?" is a delicate, acoustic ballad with a beautiful melody and strong whiff of RADIOHEAD emanating from Gagneux's minimalist arrangement and heartbroken delivery. When the frontman switches to a pitiless rasp midway through, and subsequently blends all of the above for a surprisingly emotive crescendo, the impact is undeniable.

The specter of the spiritual rises again on "Go home my friend": a lurching, campfire blues with insidious electronic trimmings, it might have benefited from being two minutes longer, but even in its disappointingly brief state, it stands out as one of the sharpest things here.

ZEAL & ARDOR have made no radical changes to their overall sound, but "Greif" is peppered with examples of how Gagneux has let his imagination run the operation. "Clawing Out" is gnarly, menacing and weird, and owes as much to hardcore techno and noise rock as it does to the blues; "Disease" is snake hipped and sleazy, with classic rock tropes protruding from every pore and nods to glam rock and psychedelic soul swirling around in the background. "What the fuck is going on?" queries Gagneux. No idea, mate, but it's fucking great, and it continues to impressive effect on the perverse collision between chain-gang chants and vexed electronica on "369" and the infernally catchy "Thrill", which may be the most righteously catchy rock song ZEAL & ARDOR have yet penned.

Following the bubbling synths of interlude "Une Ville Vide", "Sugarcoat" is a blank-eyed, fuzz rock stutter with giant, doomy riffs and a wonderfully laconic vocal from the frontman; "Solace" is an absolutely devastating, soulful piano ballad that grows into something more cinematic: it is the moment on "Greif" that sounds most spontaneous and organic, and again, an abrupt conclusion might make listeners feel slightly cheated. The blackened squall of "Hide in Shade" is much more satisfying and warps ZEAL & ARDOR's sonic vocabulary in several, pointedly heavy directions, while the starlit funeral march of the closing "to my ilk" is simply beautiful.

Diverse, daring and occasionally wasteful with its charms, "Greif" is as strong as anything ZEAL & ARDOR have released. Originality is hard to maintain, but Manuel Gagneux has proved that he is in this for the long haul, and that great ideas keep growing.