A thrashing, staccato riff-lurch punctuated by bloated double-bass stomps gives way to a driving riff groove that alternates between dual guitar stops n’ starts and lower hung death metal tremolo in the early goings during “Rise of Adrenaline.”  Matthieu’s lead vocals remind me of the deathier end of Scotty from Australian sludge lords Clagg’s vocal vomit style; Matt’s throaty roar reeking here and there of Sean Ingram coming from the deeper, death metal side of the tracks as well.  Twin guitarists David and Phillipe dredge their way into some plunging, sewer fishin’ grooves that are optimized for max density and impenetrable thickness.  The riffing picks up into a thrashed-out, crust punk style thereafter although it hardly stops the barrage of genre flipping riffs and their malicious, progressive, intestine squeezing turns.  Christophe Laureau is capable of shifting a beat without letting you know that a change-up is coming, effortlessly careening from gravity rolls to dirge-y plummets to militant double-bass to traditional d-beat/thrash slams and all sorts of cymbal twitchy prog-insanity throughout.  Many of the guitar, bass and drum licks play out like free-jazz experiments gone completely bonkers as they are biblically translated into a New Testament of hateful extreme metal.  At 2:28 sweeping, majestic post-rock chording gives the music an unusual melodic texture before a mid-tempo thrash slaughter returns in a heathen sludgy context that is sure to grind brain cells into a fine snortable powder.  The end result is like Keelhaul mixed with Lethargy, Cephalic Carnage, American Heritage, Eyehategod, Gaza, Kalibas, Cattlepress, Today is the Day, Coalesce and Cynic…something nutso of that caliber but completely of its own design and not simply content to ape Mastodon or Baroness when it comes to composing trickier song structures without sacrificing aggression.

“The Errorist” swims and submerges itself beneath waves of clean guitar that builds with a classic Neurosisian malice where scarcity is a key element, making it all the more devastating when Colossus Fall rips into sludgy apocalyptic doom riffs and cavernous vocal bellowing shortly thereafter.  Soon the drumming catapults into a blinding sandstorm of ultra-technical tom/kick patterns and dry crusty snare crackles while the riffing nimbly leaps across waltzing, bath salt huffin’, prog-punk-hardcore in the fine tradition of American Heritage.  Albert’s bass lines headline a scab pickin’, ear-bleeding Am-Rep noise-rock break where the guitars gladly toss a potful of boiling water right into your face just to sit back and watch your skin bubble.  The music creeps through gnarly sludge tempos and gross rhythmic bloat, yet the textures toy with the pained creaks and screeches that Today is the Day made a landmark on their first four triumphant albums.  Overbearing, giant slaying tones akin to Gaza’s No Absolutes in Human Suffering masterpiece are all over the molten doom-y hardcore noise of “Vision of Inhumanity.”  Suicide sludge riffs are hooked and barbed like Sabbath’s deadliest grooves, but these Swiss sickos incorporate scraping, melody-intensive post-rock whitewash into their disgusting grease grime coating and further chop up the action with catchy, syncopated Helmet influenced grooves eventually threatening the listener with manic fills, jazzy cymbal ghosting and churning riffs packed with a sludge tonality yet delivered in a dirty thrash style.  There’s a lot of crossover appeal to be had on this record and thankfully Colossus Fall keep it aggressive and away from the lily-livered stuff a few bands in this genre started preferring.

Blitzing, criss-cross prog-thrash riffs and mental ward fills render “Bulleye” a dose of diabetic, sugar overload shock waiting to happen.  The hogslop sludge textures ring loud n’ clear but the riffing veers towards thrash with mad-bomber tempo changes hinting at very little slow down.  It’s in the second half where things really get interesting as I think I’m hearing some nods to the Cattlepress masterpiece Hordes to Abolish the Divine where mid-range, blown lung vocal paranoia crawls across atonal doom riffs interspersed by drippy, Hydrahead flavored melodic twangs.  This is a gloriously fucked up, eerie part that soon sends its crippled thrash instrumentation hurtling into blastbeat ridden grind of the highest caliber with an honest to goodness, completely disgusting vocal burp coming into play later (seriously, I swear Matt just chugged a pounder and unleashed some agitated upper level flatulence).  Finger tapping guitar melodies harmonize with a minor-key noise lick crafting a musical red herring for “Disgusting Secrets” which quickly turns downward into a vile, corroded artery sludge bludgeon in need of immediately ICU attention.  Then tempos get quirky, riffs leave the Earthen plane and crazed, stonerized arpeggios fly up n’ down the fretboard with liberal jukes taken into a murky swamp thrash peppered with putrid double-bass and looney bin blasts that culminate in a finale of pinched noise chords, goatish growls and sludge withdrawal so toxic it belongs locked up in the drunk tank.

“Kabuki” toys with acoustic, Middle Eastern instrumentation that briefly introduces a sludge riff, a d-beat and then a full on death metal blast-o-rama with traits of Harakiri punching through the mix.  Stern, chugging beatdowns are introduced without overstaying their welcome, instead setting up a descending slide into the sludge pit.  At barely over 2 minutes in length “(We were) Gatekeepers” is an infectious mortuary slab of muscular thrash with sludgy girth riffs and jangling punk rock bass lines.  In fact the entire affair is like a more technically thrashed-out take on the decimating Swedish d-beat attack.  Rounding out the album “Nonversation” is a crippling whirlwind of blasts, razorblade riff cuts and sidewinder time changes, leaving the ultra-groovy sludge/doom of “F.A.T.” to bring home the bacon with blues riffs literally stuffed to the gills with grooves and whiffs of the latent death-y grind trauma that’s somewhat reminiscent of Labrat.

Colossus Fall delivers some stellar, schizophrenic mindfuck all over their LP debut, Hidden Into Details.  The chances of this album being for everyone is pretty low because tunes change on a dime and though they label themselves as a sludgy metalcore band, there’s way more going on here than just sludge and I’m not hearing any metalcore by the definition which I often associate with the genre.  Metalcore seems to fall within a certain boundary and these guys are all over the fuckin’ place and literally use a nuclear arsenal of styles to shove their C4 point down your throat.  Good stuff!