Nevermore - Enemies of Reality

The first time I heard the latest Nevermore it was blasting through my speakers, situated slightly above my head on either side where I stood. And I literally, physically bowed to them, I bowed to the masters, and tried to learn something. Three long years it had been. While most bands raced to release albums year after year after year, Nevermore paused after 2000’s Dead Heart in a Dead World and took stock. It is well-known that vocalist Warrel Dane and his bandmates are not just metal musicians, but fans—and anyone not paying attention to the subtle and friendly competition going on between the top bands in metal is missing the show. Enemies of Reality is a radical statement to the field. Once again, Nevermore has totally redefined power metal (and possibly other subgenres) and crafted 41 minutes of music the likes of which is so unique and powerful you can’t help but appreciate that they exist.

Nevermore traces its roots back to Sanctuary, the late 80s/early 90s power metal act that recorded two stand-out albums, Refuge Denied and Into the Mirror Black, before disbanding due to internal differences. Warrel, bassist Jim Sheppard and young guitar prodigy Jeff Loomis (who had been recruited by Sanctuary in its waning days) decided to stick together and continue playing heavy music. They released a debut, self-titled album in 1995 under the name of Nevermore that successfully updated their sound. It was on 1996's The Politics of Ecstasy, however, that the band truly found their identity. Both intense and technically daunting, Politics pushed the boundaries of power metal, incorporating elements of several other genres such as death, thrash, and industrial. The concept album Dreaming Neon Black was equally as impressive, with weighty and intensely personal themes that made Operation: Mindcrime seem childlike in retrospect. Dead Heart… was an interesting mix of slashing power/thrash and new-age metal balladry that attracted a brand new generation of Nevermore fans. For Enemies of Reality, the band ventured into a Seattle studio with producer Kelly Gray (Dokken, Queensryche).

The album begins, appropriately, with the evil whine of Loomis’ guitar. Then the title track shows us prismatic double bass grooves and cycling riffs the likes of which we haven’t heard since Politics. “Open wide and eat the worms of the enemy/We are the enemies of reality/In a world that’s unforgiving,” Warrel declares. Dane is no longer singing on metal albums—I hear a preacher now. During solo breaks, Loomis cuts in and plays what I believe are flawless, spiraling, descending chromatic scales and you wonder how the kid we first heard on Nevermore has become one of the top five guitarists in metal—his ascension has been dramatic. If any other band played the opening lick to “Ambivalent,” you would describe it as technical metal. With this band, we take it for granted. The chorus is incredibly dissonant and melodically new (“The sun in my hand becomes my despair/For I still want the truth”), and then it all spirals into technical death metal. Van Williams has grown equally as much as Loomis. He is a giant now, working his double bass drums and cracking his ride cymbal like lightning. This guy should have had his own DVD years ago. After a chorus into, “Never Purify” turns into a street fight. I dream of moshing to this and throwing good kids everywhere. More spirituality from Reverend Dane: “Scrape the pain off of my lips/And watch our lives unwind/When I am in the camera eye/Self immolation/Can never purify”—this might be a commentary on the cynical narcissism of the modern media empires. Towards the end, Williams gathers heavily on his toms and the band launch into riffs that could take down skyscrapers. “Tomorrow Turned Into Yesterday” is a ballad, the likes of which constantly bothered me throughout the latter half of Dead Heart.... But wait—there is a grace here, and a surprisingly heavy hook that just kills. It also lets Loomis show he can sing on lead guitar, not just fly. The speed comes back quickly in any case with the opening thrash of “I, Voyager.” “I am the voyager/I have tasted pleasures of the flesh/And drunk the pleasures of the mind/To reach the point I’ve attained/Clear, focused and defined.” It’s a f***ing political treatise... Warrel no longer emits high shrieks—this is all strong, low- and mid-range stuff. It’s called 'aging gracefully.' God, listen to that galloping thrash/death riff that begins “Who Decides”! No one is doing that kind of stuff, not even Callenish Circle. “Heroes and rapists/They all have nice faces/But who decides, who defines, who draws the line?”—here Dane eulogizes the death of idealism in a world with no moral compass. At the end that relentless thrash riff again with some groove thrown in as a taunt—this is stellar. “Noumenon” is a slow, eerie piece. Warrel comments that “Young hearts are pure like violent drops of rain/Until life teaches us to be stoned or ashamed,” and I am speechless. The riff at the beginning of the closer, “Seed Awakening,” is a laser and then the band launches into more bludgeoning thrash. The beats Williams is playing here I’ve never heard before. And then something truly spectacular occurs. Warrel utilizes death vocals for the first time in his career. The chorus breaks the shock—it is noble, grooving and will stick in your head for a long time. At the end, though, Warrel is back with the death vox, and it feels like a portent to me, a sign of what they might show us next.

Warrel compares this album to "being hit over the head with a wet sock of raw sausage." That’s accurate, but it has a huge intellectual impact as well. I believe that Enemies of Reality is a bridge to something even greater for this band. They are experimenting more here with the death and thrash sounds of the past three albums. And Warrel is embracing the natural changes in his voice and perhaps the inherent beauty of unclean vocals as well. I sense that this album is their cocoon—and I believe that when they emerge on their next release they will be beautiful, but almost unrecognizable. In the meantime, I can’t stop listening to Enemies of Reality. It is brief, bold and absolutely stunning.