Catastrophic

by J. Edward Keyes

As source material goes, the work of Immanuel Velikovsky is a curious starting point for a metal band. A controversial proponent of the concept of catastrophism, Velikovsky argued (more or less) that the Earth has been altered not by gradual changes, but by a series of sudden, shocking catastrophes, each of which radically altered the course of history, geology and biology. It argues that the universe doesn't favor order and logic but, rather, that its natural tendency is toward chaos, and that any argument to the contrary is — as Velikovsky himself put it — "of Victorian vintage."

This kind of thinking doesn't square with metal's love of on-a-dime time changes, nimbly executed riffing and, in some of the more promising outliers, complicated song construction. Metal may sound like a tempest on the surface, but there are blueprints.

The Boston metal band Junius, whose superb The Martyrdom of a Catastrophist has the frustrating distinction of arriving too late to qualify for any best-of-year lists, is indeed among the more precise and scientific of recent hard rock bands. Martyrdom, their second record, is meticulously constructed, a deeply felt narrative of Velikovsky's life told via riveting songs that care as much about a good chorus as they do for pummeling volume. Appropriately, Velikovsky's work is a springboard to address life's greater catastrophes — loss, pain, suffering, heartache — and how each of those similar traumas can forever alter an individual's basic shape. It is to the group's great credit that it not only avoids melodrama and hyperbole, but manages to bring a measure of grace and genuine human blood and ache to the proceedings. These aren't songs so much as pleas; Joseph E. Martinez has the kind of gorgeous croon that makes Morrissey look like an amateur, and the contrast that comes from his heavenly New Romantic delivery and his band's avalanche of thick riffs is the kind of grand frisson that creates universes. Junius carves out a small, unfound space between Pelican and the Cure, and rages with the might of a band that's just now figuring out its full potential.

(j_keyes@citypaper.net)