Way back in 2014, a duo by the name of The Oath made waves in the metal community with a unique blend of 70’s occult, doom, and garage rock. They were the talk of the metal zines, released an album to widespread critical acclaim, and then promptly disbanded. One half of the duo—vocalist Johanna Sadonis—went on to form Lucifer, while guitarist Linnéa Olsson started her own band, Maggot Heart. If you’re wondering where the creative differences between the two might lie, the bands’ most recent releases offer some clues.
Whereas Lucifer has slowly drifted away from all influences other than 70’s occult rock, Olsson and Maggot Heart have retained all of the dystopian edge and buzzing viscera that made The Oath more than a one-trick pony. I’m going to use the word “angular” a lot in this review, as Mercy Machine is all angles, all the time. While the darkness and occult influence of Lucifer and (Olsson’s next stepping stone) Grave Pleasures are still present, Maggot Heart have more in common with the seething, angular post-punk of bands like A Frames and Hot Snakes with maybe a dash of garage punk from fellow Swedes (and longtime Ometer favorite), Division of Laura Lee.
Opening track ‘Second Class’ sets the stage, and then blasts it apart with a discordant riff that yields to a mathy chug and Olsson’s cold, droning vocals. The overall approach is methodical, almost robotic, but there are fascinating flourishes in the song, including a subtle dash of saxophone in the mid-section. Olsson’s vocals become more emotional as the song progresses, culminating with a sneering punk diatribe, before the song quietly fades away.
‘Justine’ is another strong track demonstrating the range of dynamics that make Mercy Machine such a successful album. The track lurches forward with malevolent urgency, Voivodian in just about every way except the totally goth-rock lead guitar ringing out over the angular riffs. The vocal call and response during the song’s midsection is one of the album’s many highlights.
The vocals are generally a big step up from those on the band’s debut, Dusk to Dusk. While I enjoyed that release (particularly the track ‘The Killing Hand’), Olsson’s delivery grew fatiguing over the course of the album. On Mercy Machine, her voice remains intentionally flat more often than not, with clipped, over-articulated syllables the rule of the day. This suits the music well in small doses, but has its limits. Fortunately, Olsson strikes a balance between that style and a more animated, and suitably derisive, punk-rock inflection. The contrast is welcome, though I suspect a well-placed guest vocalist on a song or two might have elevated Mercy Machine from a great album to an AOTY contender.
Still, there’s little to complain about here. Maggot Heart seems to have hit their stride with Mercy Machine, delivering a strong collection of songs that lives up to the band’s impressive musical aesthetic. Fans of Olsson's previous bands, who also like their rock with plenty of razor sharp edges, may just have a new favorite band in Maggot Heart.