Album review: Chokehold – The Sweet Sense Of Genocide

The Sweet Sense Of Genocide is Chokehold‘s second album, following on from a début on Casket Records. This record, however, comes with no label attached. In fact, it doesn’t even come as a record in the traditional sense; Chokehold are offering the whole thing as a free download from their website.

Kudos to them for taking this step, too. It’s a nasty landscape for beginning bands at the moment, and it’s no wonder bands are looking to influential rebels like Trent Reznor for inspiration on the business front. Chokehold don’t have Reznor’s profile, though, and I don’t think it unfair to suggest that The Sweet Sense Of Genocide won’t spread at quite the same rate as The Slip.

It won’t be because of a lack in quality musicianship on Chokehold‘s part, though. “Life On Loan” blasts off with Testament-style lead hooks and sturdy descending riffs propping up a throat-ripping screech; galloping triplet rhythms roll out of the drum kit from time to time, and a bellowed call-response chorus adds some variety to the proceedings.

The Sweet Sense Of Genocide continues in a similar vein, an update of the Bay Area thrash template that takes on a few ideas from contemporary power-metal and some hints of metalcore. It’s a powerful and pacey blend, even if not astonishingly original; then again, metal doesn’t demand originality as much as it does authenticity and competence, and Chokehold have plenty of both.

“Blindfolded” sees Chokehold switch vocal styles to a gruff Anselmo growl, laced with threat and suppressed violence – “motherfucker, I’ve got nothing but hate for you”. Regrettably the Anselmo-ism extends to a possibly unintentional Southern state twang of accent which turns up again in “Gutterman” and “Apes Of Illness”.

Possibly because it’s the default voice of so many classic bands, a lot of Brit metal acts end up sounding like faux-Texan refugees, and it’d be nice to have a few more bands making a point of sounding authentically British – not out of any sense of nationalism, but out of a desire to step out of the shadows of their influences a little.

But I digress; back to The Sweet Sense Of Genocide. There are some clever and sneaky little details that show Chokehold aren’t your ten-a-penny copyists, like the frequent time-signature switches, and the cheeky burst of mobile phone signal buzz introduced in the full-silence drop-out at the beginning of “Post Work Syndrome” – which is incidentally a superbly sullen brooding rebellion song.

Sonically, The Sweet Sense Of Genocide is about as authentic and uncompromising as a band at this stage of their career could expect to get. The only serious flaws (which aren’t deal-breakers, and could be erased by a good producer and extended studio experience) are the aforementioned accent issues and the slightly cumbersome metaphors of the lyrics. Chokehold stick to the traditional thematic staples of thrash – corrupt government, violent hypocrisy, freedom from conformity, you know the stuff – but the words themselves never convince as well as the committed delivery suggests they should.

Chokehold aren’t quite A-grade yet, but they come a lot closer than many of their contemporaries. It’s unfortunate that no label chose to pick up The Sweet Sense Of Genocide, because it’s a pretty decent homegrown take on aggressive metal; a little polish from a good producer, and it could have been a real contender.

But perhaps things will work in Chokehold‘s favour; self-releasing it as a free download could get them onto the iPods of the kids without the need for a middleman, and that can only be a good thing from their perspective.