Gollum - 'The Core'

There’s nothing precious about Wilmington, NC’s Gollum, but they sure do offer a wonderfully strange brew of art deco sludge.

Forget any Sméagol allusions, though Lord of the Rings has provided a new/old muse for contemporary metal bands ranging from Battlelore to Summoning. Wilmington, North Carolina’s Gollum is largely unclassifiable unless you feel inclined to merely pin them as an art sludge band not far off from Sourvein and a still-developing shadow cousin to Mastodon.

The Core is one of the most complex, sonic-scraped albums of the year because you literally have no idea where these guys are coming from, much less where they’re wading towards through their distorted furrows. Vocalist Shawn Corbett has a way of throwing his audience loops between his variably-pitched screams which pits him as a demonic black metaller at times, a good ol’ boy stepping on broken glass at others.

Meanwhile, Gollum grinds and chews through their explorative rip chords and chunky rhythms, bowing nods to Today is the Day, as well as Sourvein and sometimes Skrape. In-between, The Core fuses clean-shaven note sways and psychedelic electro-twangs, all in anticipation of occasional thrash clatter and boomeranged bluster on tunes that simply go everywhere such as “Ominous Winds,” “Carven Bones,” “Diggin’” and “Omens.”

At times The Core gets spaced-out weird, such as the ambivalent trance loops of “Amor Fati,” but instantly thereafter, Gollum stomps mercilessly with tremendous heaviness and fleshed-out rhythms on “Darkhouse.”

Accordingly, Gollum’s biggest asset is their unpredictability and their willingness to take a chance even if it becomes rocky at times along the way. The bumpy trip thus becomes the listener’s, particularly on the astral-flung “The Burden of Ubiquitous Scars,” which transcends from hemped-up lucent to thunderous ala Remission-era Mastodon. For its volatility alone, check it out.