#heavy devy

I had just been talking about trying to streamline these bad boys (these posts) by trimming my introductory paragraphs, but Devin Townsend is a character in the world of heavy metal that simply refuses to let discussion around him and his music go easily, both in his artistic expression and in his discussion of his artistic motives. Since my discovery of Strapping Young Lad and subsequently Devin’s other solo projects, I have always appreciated how unrestrained he is with following his artistic drives honestly: diverting to different styles before even the hint of staleness creeps in, ending projects that he feels have run their course. Sure, it might be easy to simply reduce him to metal’s answer to Frank Zappa, but despite all Devin’s influences, he doesn’t just come off as simply a rip-off of Zappa with metal as a means to complicate their similarities. Devin has never let his projects’ identities, his influences, or his perceived identity define him, and I've never gotten the sense that he's trying to fit some kind of image of himself that he or other's have constructed.

As prepared as anyone knowing Devin’s catalog is for the uninhibited nuttiness that he brings once again, it’s hard to be cynical about it because it’s clearly just Devin being himself as he always has. He knows his fans love his heavy Ziltoid shit, his groovy and massive Ocean Machine stuff, and that they would all jump at the chance for him to reunite Strapping Young Lad. Yet his fans, myself included, stick around to see what he’ll do next because he doesn’t just give the people what they want. Despite knowing what would more universally please his audience, Devin does what his artistic drive leads him to do, and that liberated creativity has produced so many one-of-a-kind albums, from the fucking weird ambiance and noise of Devlab, to the soothing chamber folk of Casualties of Cool, to the conceptual prog metallic madness of Deconstruction. Devin is the kind of artist whose vocal and compositional talent has allowed him to branch out into all these odd ventures with the rotating staff of instrumentalists he directs to produce more than just novelty albums, and after over two decades of musical adventure, it seems very natural that Devin decide to finally make a “fuck it” album and smash all his various influences and artistic twinges together into one glorious Frankenstein monster of an album, the prospect of which is the kind of thing that makes one lean back a bit to brace for like an impending crash. But if there’s anyone I would entrust to make an album like Empath, it’s Devy.

The soothing sounds of echo-y guitar and angelic choir over cawing sea gulls and gently crashing waves of the introductory track, “Castaway”, leads smoothly into the 75-minute-long guessing game of unpredictable structural shifts of Devin’s seminal work that begins with the gratuitous symphonic cat dance metal of the lead single "Genesis". I enjoyed the song when I first heard it for its big metallic chorus, its constant back-and-forth between grandiose and dancy, and its samples of cats, cows, and other weird shit that only Devin Townsend or Igorrr would utilize, and I enjoy it additionally as an opening ceremony to usher one through the gates of the Wonka factory of metal that the album is. Once inside, it certainly is a chocolate-y wonderland of sounds too colorful to describe piece-by-piece, which would simply spoil it anyway.

Devin gives us a gorgeous uplifting choir hearkening back to Epicloud on the andante glory of “Spirits Will Collide”, what feels like a metallic Christmas anthem on “Evermore”, and mashes death growls and into similarly jingly, carol-y orchestration on “Why?”, which begs and leaves that question wonderfully unanswered. Devin makes a lot of sudden stylistic shifts perhaps for the mere surprise factor of it all, even though at this point I’d be more surprised to hear Devin say something is off-limits, but he could definitely be accused of just trying to be quirky.

But on “Hear Me”, the proggiest piece on the album, Devin in his experienced proficiency brings together thrash palm-muting, blast beats, Dream-Theater-esque dynamics, and a glorious raspy chorus to make perhaps the most Devin Townsend song ever. Similarly proggy is the 11-minute epic “Borderlands”, which opens with a rooster’s cock-a-doodle-doo and blends Devin’s eccentricity with his expert orchestration in the most obnoxious way on the entire album, but he pulls it off. Les Claypool-like vocal sytlings, an airhorn sample, synth lines Jordan Rudess would be thrilled with, and even a jazz sax solo all decorate the dance-y funk of a choir-supported rock guitar riff until the song comes down from its explosive elemental climax and transitions into the interluding choral segment of “Requiem” before the album’s real centerpiece: the six-part “Singularity” suite. For the album’s massive prog opus, Devin drops the kookiness and wraps up the last 23 minutes of the album in a patient, comprehensive exposition of his metallic, progressive, and ambient tendencies across six focused, grounded sections. 

Empath definitely has the power to just push away the hard-hearted or those completely unfamiliar with Devin’s work, but this album was never for them. Despite Devin never intentionally catering to fan impulses, Empath is very much an album made for the hardcore fan, the fan who has stuck with Devin through all the weird twists and turns and enjoyed them. And this should certainly feel like a gratifying reward for all their listening dedication as well. Where to go from here, who the hell knows? While such an exhaustive expelling of Devin’s creative bank into one album might suggest that he’s emptying it all out at once to relieve himself and put an end to the nagging of countless musical ideas in his head and be free of it, I think Devin is the kind of person who cannot help but constantly find inspiration to put into his idea box. I think a big emptying of built-up inspiration will only make the creative voices in his head clearer as they accumulate more ideas. And who’s to say this even did the trick? There could still be plenty more Devin feels he needs to do, and being that forming a certain career arc seems to be no concern of his, I don’t think this will be the end of Devin’s creativity, not at all. Based on what I have seen from him, I don’t think there ever will be. And while that may seem like sentenced artistic servitude, albums like Empath make it seem like it’s a blessing of a flowing wellspring of purpose.