URNE

New bands that survive and succeed without recourse to gimmicks or cynicism are a rarity in these superficial times, but URNE have done everything with honor and intelligence. On their first two albums, the UK trio laid down a monstrous blueprint: crushing riffs, emotive melodies, and a perfect blend of new-school artfulness and old-school bravado. Somewhere between post-MASTODON, post-metal pursuits, and the twin-lead enormity that stems from a very real and palpable love of traditional heavy metal, IRON MAIDEN and DIO-era BLACK SABBATH in particular, both magnificent 2021 debut "Serpent & Spirit" and its stunning, 2023 follow-up "A Feast on Sorrow" (which was produced by GOJIRA's Joe Duplantier) were rightly hailed as modern milestones, at least by people who know real metal from its wearying, false equivalent. But if URNE have yet to receive the kind of hype or media help that their music demands, it hasn't had any negative impact on their ambition or ability to glide majestically past transient trends. Their third album, "Setting Fire to the Sky" maintains the invention and muscularity of its predecessors, taking URNE's music even further into untouched territory. They may be inclined to quietly go about their business, but URNE are steadily becoming too damn impressive to ignore.

In stark contrast to the vast majority of their contemporaries, URNE write songs that prize connection. There is an awareness of commercial metal's sharp edges here, and nobody could accuse them of being musically obtuse, but "Setting Fire to the Sky" strikes an exquisite balance between airy memorability and profound, compositional depths. Even in their most primitive moments, when URNE are clearly hoping that heads will be rigorously banged, there is always a strong sense that aggression's allure is only part of the story. Take "Be Not Dismayed": an opening song to cherish, it starts with a deft, acoustic guitar intro that could have graced many classic '80s metal records, before erupting into another one of this band's enthralling collages of thunderous riffs and epic, melody-powered sentiments. Frontman Joe Nally's vocals have matured convincingly over URNE's recorded output to date, and here he hammers home his versatility and increased power. Guitarist Angus Neyra has grown in stature, too, and his solo is simply masterful, not to mention as memorable as they come, particularly in these over-saturated, cookie-cutter times. A great song that delivers on an emotional level, while still leaving scars and bruises galore, "Be Not Dismayed" is the perfect introduction to URNE's most progressive and powerful album yet.

Roughly split between big, bold epics and shorter, tighter expressions of the same ambitious intent, "Setting Fire to the Sky" is full of surprises but ruthlessly consistent in its atmospheric message. "Weeping to the World" and "The Spirit, Alive" are razor-sharp modern metal songs, with room for both alt-metal leanings and defiant, old-school purity, and both are destined to be staples of the band's live sets. But it is the more expansive likes of the title track and the previously released "Harken the Waves" (featuring MASTODON's Troy Sanders) that harbor this album's most jaw-dropping proof of potency. "Setting Fire To The Sky" boasts some of the gnarliest riffs in the URNE arsenal, nodding reverentially to progressive thrash while conjuring melodic hooks that simmer and brood like ghostly threats hovering over metalcore's corpse. Meanwhile, "Harken the Waves" is URNE's big, prog metal showcase, with Troy Sanders's vocals adding fuel to the flames, and a knotty, cumbersome structure that sounds more instinctive than calculated. This is liberated, free-thinking heavy metal, and its creators' honesty and passion shines through in every convoluted clot of riffs and in Nally's cliché-free vocal delivery.

Elsewhere, "The Ancient Horizon" is a lithe outpouring of hope and desperation married to yet more brutish riffing and outlaw melodies; "Towards the Harmony Hall" digs deep into the old school, weaving together thrash-adjacent guitars and an invigorating sense of grandeur, with overt prog tropes and flashes of OPETH-like subtlety filling the gaps between bursts of outright bombast. Best of all, the closing "Breathe" is a truly moving climax, as Jo Quail's unimpeachable cello work adds textural tumult to a somber, low-key plea for mental tranquility and shelter from the storm. Masters of both the elegant and the elephantine, URNE are not making heavy music for the sake of it. Instead, this is an album that bleeds from their fingers, voices and souls. It's metal for those with a short attention span, and for those who need music to unfold surely but steadily. All bases are covered, and URNE increasingly sound like a very important band indeed. Let the sky burn. We can all bask in its radiance, with hearts full of hope and horns aloft.