On ‘Breaking the Catatonic State’, the Belgian trio put sludge weight through a hardcore obstacle course. Sharp turns, direct lyrics and enough groove to keep you involved in decisions your neck wasn’t consulted about.
Heavy music has a curious relationship with comfort. We’ll describe a record as punishing, oppressive or hostile, then complain when it stops doing exactly what we expected.
CROUCH appear to have noticed.
Their 2023 debut EP established a convincing sludge foundation. For their first full-length, ‘Breaking the Catatonic State’ – released by Heimlich Manoeuvres (Oathbreaker, Living Gate, Siem Reap…) – they started questioning the routines that came with it. The weight remains. Predictability has been asked to clear its desk.
The trio bring considerable experience: Levy Seynaeve on guitar and vocals, Wim Coppers on drums and Jasper Hollevoet on bass. Their collective history includes Oathbreaker, Rise and Fall, Wiegedood, Living Gate and Ventilateur, with Seynaeve formerly of Amenra. Yes the infamous Church Of Ra is still alive.
Useful credentials. Although a new band deserves more than a review of its members’ LinkedIn profiles.
The interesting story is what these three choose to disturb together.
Where the EP drew on Crowbar, Sumac and Neurosis, this album turns towards Knut, Coalesce, Botch and Burnt By The Sun. Those references describe a shift in how the music moves: sludge’s dragging force meets hardcore arrangements that keep changing the terms of engagement.
Accents interrupt the expected pulse. Phrases take awkward exits. The rhythm section maintains enough physical pull to make those disruptions matter.
At what point does a signature sound become a very expensive habit?
CROUCH tackle that question by giving themselves something to negotiate. There’s playfulness in the writing, even when the music sounds thoroughly displeased. A pause exposes the next attack; an unexpected turn makes a familiar weight land differently.
You can follow it with your body. Counting is available for those who enjoy bringing homework to a perfectly good riff.
“Lhotse” offers the direct entrance: a galloping drive that makes the band’s physical appeal immediately clear. “Vidal” brings their sludge instincts into contact with the sharper turns, while “Twisted Colossus” lets tension develop before the heavier arrival.
The connection to Botch lies in that tightly coordinated instability; Knut and Coalesce offer useful parallels for the friction between groove, abrasion and awkward phrasing. CROUCH keep enough space around those elements to let three musicians sound like three musicians making consequential decisions.
Seynaeve’s forceful, intelligible delivery gives the lyrics similar purpose. “Yellow Eyes” explicitly rejects white supremacy. The anger has an address.
Heavy music is very good at sounding furious. Saying what deserves that fury remains a useful skill.
The artwork takes the album’s interest in disrupted routines into rather literal territory. Working with sculptor Bram Vanderbeke, the band hauled an enormous sculpture around Brussels: a static object placed in changing surroundings.
A compelling visual idea. Also a reminder to ask follow-up questions before agreeing to “help with the artwork”.
That willingness to make things awkward gives ‘Breaking the Catatonic State’ its character. Experienced musicians could have refined a working formula. Instead, they’ve kept its physical force and introduced reasons to stay alert.
The groove gets you moving. CROUCH reserve the right to change direction.
