I recently featured Northern Ireland two-piece Pincer Consortium as one of my top picks in one of our Release Day Roundups. For those who missed that post, the band play a brand of semi-dissonant and technically tinged prog-death that reminded me a lot of Septic Flesh and Rivers of Nihil, except... weirder. In retrospect, that description (while still accurate) doesn't really capture the ominous, almost doom-laden chaos of their sound. Throw in some more recent A Million Dead Birds Laughing and early Hadal Maw into the mix and you're starting to get a more accurate picture. Maybe.
My initial encounter also didn't entirely prepare me for the full-blown, industrial-tinged, worm-themed prog-metal of its members' previous project Scald, whose last album Regius I remains the best non-2024 discovery I've made this year, by some distance.
When asked about the differences between the two projects, mainman Maciek Pasinski had the follwoing to say:
Geminus Schism by Pincer Consortium and Regius I by Scald diverge both in thematic focus and sonic execution, marking them as distinct works despite their shared experimental and eclectic roots. Geminus Schism thrives on dualities, layering its compositions with sharp contrasts between chaotic noise and melodic undercurrents, reflecting its thematic exploration of fractured realities and inner conflict. The production feels cold and precise, with industrial influences and a stark, mechanized sound, emphasizing its concept of technological decay and existential schism. In contrast, Scald's Regius I leans toward a more organic and primal atmosphere, driven by an unrelenting heaviness that pulls from doom metal's vast, oppressive soundscapes. The album’s slower, dirge-like progression underscores its focus on regal decline and ancient power, creating a sense of overwhelming grandeur and decay. While Geminus Schism plays with fragmentation and sharp juxtapositions, Regius I opts for an immersive, monolithic approach, making each feel like a journey through very different yet equally dark worlds. Regius I has more non-metal, cinematic sections, while Geminus Schism is more guitar driven with much more intricate serpentine guitar parts that form an overwhelming maze.
Lyrically Geminus Schism also takes an abstract, cerebral approach to its themes, blending philosophical musings with imagery of duality and inner conflict. The lyrics explore the clash between two conflicting entities or minds, suggesting a cosmic, cellular or metaphysical schism. [Vocalist Pete Dempsey (who also plays in Pincer Consortium)] used surrealist language, aiming to evoke psychological dissonance and ambiguity, which aligns with the album’s conceptual focus on fragmentation and multiplicity. On the other hand, Scald's lyricism stands out for its detailed neologisms and myth-building, which lean into a grandiose, yet alienating, cosmic narrative. An experimental vocabulary contributes to an otherworldly and fragmented static bulletpoint / snapshot storytelling style that challenges the listener’s perception with its lack of verbs. The recurrent theme of the worm kind as a cosmic or divine force in the vermiverse adds layers of metaphor and mystery, implying a deeper philosophical exploration of power, creation, and control through a vermiform lens.
Why the two albums necessitated seperate projects remains a mystery, which perhaps even the verminous march of time cannot unravel. If you want to get a glimpse into some of the bands' eclectic influences, then all you need to do is keep reading.
Maciek Pasinski (all instruments, vocals)
Strapping Young Lad – City (1997)
City was a sonic force that shaped me in ways I never anticipated. The album unleashed a form of musical chaos that was both unsettling and captivating—a blistering blend of industrial metal, nuclear thrash, venomous yet oddly tongue-in-cheek vocals, and a cinematic atmosphere—all underscored by an unparalleled level of raw, badass catchiness. While Devin Townsend built on the template set by Fear Factory a few years earlier, his execution far surpassed it, delivering something both innovative and unmistakably powerful.
The album's relentless roar became my soundtrack for years. While it didn’t prompt me to start writing music—I was already in a band—it fuelled a desire to push boundaries: to play faster, craft more intricate riffs, build more intense songs, and explore off-kilter atmospheres and left-field topics. It offered catharsis through an exotic blend of unrelenting aggression, modern vocal lines, and dark humour, inspiring me to experiment and push my music in new, more intense directions. It also made me start experimenting with open tuning which I still use to this day.
I also still use City to reference my mixes from time to time. I had a pleasure to see the band live the next year (Dynamo Open air '98) and it was probably the best gig I have ever seen in my life. A perfect mix of supersonic grinding mayhem with Freddie Mercury vibes.
Fredrik Thordendal's Special Defects – Sol Niger Within (1997)
This album came out the same year as Strapping young Lad's City, funnily enough. It was another groundbreaking record for me because it pushed the boundaries of progressive metal into avant-garde territory. It blends Meshuggah's signature polyrhythmic, angular guitar work with a chaotic mix of jazz fusion, ambient soundscapes, and experimental tones. I loved the Holdsworth-esque neverending rubbery solos, the doberman raspy staccatoed vocals, Morgan Agren's fantastic jazz and metal drumming, bizarre introverted yet cosmic lyrics. The album's unconventional structure, mind-bending time signatures, and complex layering create an overwhelming sense of both technical mastery and cold intensity. Fredrik Thordendal's fusion of dark atmospheres, abstract concepts, and intricate musicianship made Sol Niger Within a cult classic, an obscure gem that went a bit under the radar, but in my opinion, it remains the best Meshuggah-styled album that was not recorded by Meshuggah.
Fields of the Nephilim – Elizium (1990)
Elizium cemented Fields of the Nephilim as a pioneering act in the gothic and alternative music scenes, influencing countless artists like me with its moody, evocative sound and pushing us to add a cinematic element and introduce more layers to our compositions. Carl McCoy was a true master of vocal phrasing. That element alone enabled the band to build epic songs on top of just a single guitar motiff, finding perfect ways to avoid overstaying its welcome by shifting vocals in an interesting way on top of that foundation. I spent time analyzing what he did on this and previous Fields of the Nephilim albums and applied a lot of similar phrasing techniques when I was working on Scald's Regius I, Pincer Consortium's Geminus Schism and [Pasinski and Dempsey's other project] qip's Ephemeral Substrates (2015).
Skinny Puppy – Too Dark Park (1990)
Too Dark Park was groundbreaking for its ferocious blend of industrial chaos, harsh electronic textures, and nightmarish atmospherics. The album's dense layers of sound, including distorted beats, abrasive samples, and heavily processed vocals, created a disorienting, claustrophobic experience that pushed the limits of what industrial music could be. "Vermageddon" off Scald's Regius I is my homage to that period of Skinny Puppy's discography.