In an age where concept albums and rock operas are a cliché reserved for power metal, Biomechanical bucks the trend by not fitting in any particular genre. Combining elements of ‘Painkiller’ and ‘Far Beyond Driven’ with the last Dimmu Borgir album, all held together by a futuristic story, the band’s musical outcome is breath taking. But the secret ingredient is John K. using his background in film score to breathe life into the sonic landscape of his creation. Set in a universe reminiscent of ‘The Matrix’ involving machines and enslaved human minds, opener ‘Fallen in Fear’ begins the final installment of a trilogy that started with 2004’s ‘Eight Moons’ followed by ‘Empires of the Worlds’ in 2006.

Introduced by a cacophonous buzz, violins suddenly tremble and crash to convey the feeling of terror and suspense. Then John K’s voice layers the furious thrash metal unleashed by his band (a new line up from the last album, who all left in a huff when touring obligations clashed with studio work) using his trademark Rob Halford-meets-Phil Anselmo vocals. The music on the first song embodies the album’s ferocity, which is far-removed from almost every other concept record released in the last decade. No Christopher Lee narratives, boring interludes or Set Abominae here. This is towering, pummeling, teeth rattling, grooving power-thrash. Regarding the story’s cohesiveness, mastermind John K. has been rather vague himself when asked about it during interviews. He says ‘Cannibalised’ deals with the main character succumbing to the forces he was escaping from in the previous albums.

With aural violence and flighty grandiose pseudo-classical elements covered, the sum of Biomechanical’s sound becomes the year’s most highly energized listen. Problem is, as the ‘concept’ progresses, so does the confusing pitch of the music. The songs around the middle like ‘Predatory,’ ‘Slow the Poison,’ and ‘Reborn in Damnation’ are almost unlistenable, buried under enormous grooves and screams, getting lost on their own furious tempo while these majestic guitar solos from Chris Van Hayden and Gus Drax occasionally glimmer amidst the frenzy. The album finally unwinds on its tail end, with the hauntingly beautiful ‘Through Hatred Arise’ majestically echoing across feelings of desolation and hopelessness. The unrelenting pace picks up again for ‘Violent Descent’ where the journey closes on a sad note. A sonic nightmare reeking of perfection, the music inside this album embodies its title, consuming itself with a single band’s bleak vision.