Exit Ten

*Devil Sold His Soul *are the kind of band that relax me and make my ears bleed at the same time. Understandably, most people can only appreciate the latter part of their effect on me. DSHS play in vast swathes of atmospheric metal, accompanied by rapid-fire drumwork and harsh vocals. Obviously names like Will Haven or Tool might crop up as well, if you want a more general reference point, but the sextet’s sound is more reminiscent of the earlier work of Icelandic musical chameleons Mínus or even the progressive hardcore of the now defunct Eden Maine.

The epic translations of sound here, caused by celestial samples being threaded through brutally comforting guitars, make the mind wander to otherworldly places. The complex arrangements here are pitiless and relentless and threaten to envelop you completely in blankets of noise and sporadic flashes of white light. Wiry frontman *Ed Gibbs *screeches his vocals with such bitter vitriol that when his microphone lead decides to detach itself he contents himself with running around the Barfly yelling his pains into people’s faces. His intent and despair are unmistakable as he breaks from his howls into impressively soaring, clean vocals.

With a batch of clearly distinguisable songs that bear an unearthly pedigree, *Devil Sold His Soul *might be a band you hear a little bit more of in the future. However, judging by the track records of fine British metal bands of recent years, I wouldn’t hold my breath that they reap the just rewards they are due.