Review Summary: Anders Friden reincarnate.
The Final Hours is exciting. I say this not because it is teeming with originality or breaks any barriers, and I wouldn’t even quite say it’s an immaculate execution of that in which it worships (which is to say, Colony-era In Flames/Fiction-era Dark Tranquility), but rather because it portrays itself as a record on the cusp of building new layers upon these already sturdy bedrocks. The motif is predominantly this-guttural snarls that strike a middle ground between In Flames and Insomnium, sweeping guitar leads that glimmer and gleam and -competent- percussion with occasional blasts and tasty drum fills. There are inflections of ethereal keys on “Stranger”, a pleasantly
harrowing introduction to “Nightfall” and some fun neoclassical shreds (going so far as to actually play Beethoven’s 5th Symphony for a brief moment) off of “The Hunter & the Nightmare”. In these times the ability of Thermality to sound like an evolution of their predecessors becomes evident, and the idea of having another Gothenburg torchbearer amongst the pillars of smoldering ash that is Gothenburg creative stagnancy becomes promising.
There is a tincture of disappointment within
The Final Hours, however, which is that in the moments preceding these creative inflections there is a fair amount of forgettability. Songs like “Windigo” and “Clones” form an almost amorphous sludge of mid-tempo melodeath -something- that sounds like a baseline imitation, which while cut from the same cloth as their enshrined forefathers, appears to be more loincloth than fully studded chainmail armor (wicked bass solo in “Windigo” notwithstanding). “Clones” exemplifies this double-edged sword extraordinarily with an Anders Friden spoken-word impression that drives the track with an accuracy so damn close you’d imagine they were of the same larynx. It is enjoyable in a similar fashion to a well performed cover, which is a bit frustrating when the band shows they have the vigor and catharsis (“Weeping Angels”) as well as the creative virtues (anything post “Forsaken”) to craft something that can be an homage to that which they adore while still molding their own footprint on a scene that is a bit
too fixated on being a fun but forgettable rehash of its founders. As the members were mere teenagers at the band's formation (2020), I choose to place my faith in watching this bud bloom into something greater. May they riff harder than they ever did before.
