"Its familiarity may be the LP's greatest strength and pitfall"
If ever there was a heavy band on the cusp of major success, it would be Bury Tomorrow, one of British metal's great hopes. But despite chart placings and acclaim at home, in many parts of the world they're seemingly still chasing that elusive next level.
Will Cannibal afford the metalcore mob such a breakthrough? It's difficult to say for certain, but its familiarity may be the LP's greatest strength and pitfall. It's certainly not for lack of effort, as this is a band with more heart than Valentine's Day.
Now on their sixth studio album, they continue to deploy songs offering mosh-friendly breakdowns and churning riffs, not to mention passionate vocal hooks alongside the harsh tones. Vocalist Dani Winter-Bates has long been one of metal’s loudest advocates for discussing mental health, and he's exorcised demons here, writing some brutally personal lyrics. It comes, as therapists like to say, from a very real place.
Choke's aggressive statement of intent and thunderous beatdown gets proceedings off to a fair start, while the anthemic title track is also a winner. Gods And Machines maintains that delicate balance between accessibility and authenticity, infusing some of the record's heavier passages. Meanwhile, there's a curiously tech-y edge permeating through Cold Sleep, and Better Below offers an earworm of a chorus. What prevents the record overall from reaching grander heights is a frequent adherence to that melodic metalcore formula, the presence of well-worn tropes spawning songs that at times can feel interchangeable with recent releases.
Cannibal is executed with conviction. But it can be difficult to escape the sense you've heard it all before, and even at times done better – including by Bury Tomorrow themselves.