Protest The Hero – Palimsest

It’s been a long while since I’ve tuned in to Whitby, Ontario progressive metal act, Protest The Hero.  Somehow I missed out on their previous album, Volition, which makes my nearest reference point nearly a decade behind with Scurrilous.  With such a large gap in following the band I wasn’t completely sure what to expect with their fifth full length, Palimpsest, but given the band’s history for pushing their limits, my curiosity was piqued.  After my initial listen, I was impressed.

Palimpsest is an amazingly agile album, wrapping many elements of the band I remember from a decade ago in a fresh and relevant package that still somehow manages to appeal to my older and more selective self.  I’ve kind of drifted away from some of the punk scene’s affiliated metal acts in recent years, so I was surprised at how quickly I became engrossed in Protest The Hero’s recent offering.

For starters, the album is a lengthy political statement, offering commentary about America’s reputation for writing revisionist history.  It’s a ballsy move considering the band’s Canadian origin, but the move to chronicle some of the shifts under the current administration is done tactfully through themes rather than by taking cheap shots from a place of moral high ground.  

The album opens with the sweeping instrumental call of “The Migrant Mother,” a song that ushers in the album’s expansive scope through a brief but impactful intro that quickly transforms into a barrage of breakneck drumming and the continual escalation and descent of furiously played riffs alongside Rody Walker’s soaring falsetto.  The level of technical vision is crisp and controlled, bringing to mind a combination of speedy metal (Iron Maiden, Blind Guardian) and technical punk (Propagandhi and A Wilhelm Scream) with that unmistakable Protest The Hero charm.  There’s a bit of everything here, all streamlined into a single, mostly melodic, cohesive package ranging from math rock, speed metal, ambience, hardcore, punk, and straight up rock.  Songs like “The Canary” drip with slow symphonic ambience, swelling carefully to an frenetic climax, while those like “All Hands” sharpen their edge with the gnashing of guttural hardcore vocals amidst the balance of punchy bass and a salvo upon salvo of powerful drum beats.  “The Fireside” highlights the band’s knack for employing sharp angular riffs while maintaining their melodic foundation, all while sneaking in a haunting ambience.

As mentioned before, the underlying message is a political one, mostly summarized by the line in “The Fireside” of a population “wondering if suffering isn’t the only option left.”  “All we know is all we’ve been told” pronounces Walker on “Soliloquy,” offering a comprehensive commentary on the nature of freedom, racial violence, systemic crime, and a prison system that grows hatred rather than rehabilitation.  “Reverie” explores a dialogue on clawing back the rights of a disillusioned populace, complicit in their own social descent.  “Mountainside” serves as a minute long classical piano waltz, which when wedged between messages of a society in flames feels like watching ash pour from the sky with a sort of ghostly beauty, like shedding tears of remorse from a sentimental eulogy.

At fifty-three minutes Palimpsest is a lengthy listen, but quite in line with typical Protest The Hero fare.  It’s been a while since I’ve given much thought to Protest The Hero, but Palimpsest is a fantastic reminder about what I’ve been missing.  The album contains all the elements that first drew me to the band and somehow continues to appeal to my ten year older self.  There’s a mark of maturity flowing from the band, offering up a high level of complexity and diversity within and between songs while playing to a melody as much as chaos.  Palimpsest is a beast of a technical album, one that sets up Protest The Hero for another strong chapter.