Veil of Maya, the once-revered pioneers of the metal scene, have released their latest album, [m]other, with a daring new approach. This highly-anticipated album combines the sweet, sweet sounds of drop-tuned chugs, club beats, and synthwave to create a nostalgic tribute to 2003’s most iconic gaming experience: the Need for Speed menu screen.
The album starts with “Chugfest 3000,” which, as the name suggests, is a 3-minute-long series of chugs layered over a pulsating club beat. It’s a bold artistic choice and a clear nod to the band’s deep-rooted love for underground street racing games. You can practically see the pixelated cars revving their engines as the track plays.
As [m]other progresses, listeners are treated to “Hydraulic Hell,” a track entrenched in synthwave that practically transports you back to the days of dial-up internet and flip phones. The band masterfully combines heavy guitar riffs with a synthesizer melody eerily reminiscent of the Tron soundtrack. The result? A song that’s perfect for headbanging while you customize your virtual ride.
But this album’s pièce de résistance is without a doubt “Turbo-Boosted Heartbreak.” This emotionally-charged ballad pairs guttural growls with the soothing sounds of a 56K modem connecting to AOL Instant Messenger. It’s a track that will have you reflecting on lost love and wondering why the hell your Neopets are still alive after all these years.
What sets [m]other apart from other albums of its genre is the sheer audacity of the band to stop giving a fuck. They’re not pandering to the masses or following the latest trends; they’re taking us on a trip down memory lane, reminding us of a simpler time when all we needed was a souped-up car and an internet connection that took 10 minutes to load a single page.
Critics may argue that Veil of Maya has lost their edge, but in reality, they’ve just embraced the absurdity of life – and metal – in the 21st century. It’s refreshing to see a band unapologetically embrace their love for a bygone era, even if it means chugging their way through an entire album, losing fans and depriving themselves of a steady revenue stream.
So, buckle up, slap on your wristbands, and dust off your PlayStation 2, because [m]other is here to remind you that sometimes, the most hardcore thing you can do is stop giving a shit and embrace the ridiculousness of life. And, honestly, isn’t that what we all need right now?
