The Dillinger Escape Plan

If The Dillinger Escape Plan (TDEP) aren’t suffering from a florid case of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, they’re certainly playing the part well. Take “Farewell, Mona Lisa,” the lead single off the band’s fourth album, “Option Paralysis:” just as the song’s grindcore rendition of dial-up modem noise grows exhausting, the band breaks into a cascade of eerie acoustic guitar arpeggios. Then, after about 50 seconds of tranquility, they unleash a blinding squall of guitar riffage, while vocalist Greg Puciato changes his vocal style on almost a line-by-line basis.

TDEP have been around for almost 14 years—a minor miracle given the relentless energy their music demands. They play mathcore, a punk-metal hybrid that demands two things of its musicians: world-class time-keeping ability, and the belief that repeating a riff is risking stagnation. Not surprisingly, TDEP are virtuosi whose ability to maneuver odd time signatures at harrowing speeds is nonpareil. However, bands that work within a genre as schizophrenic as mathcore must be more than top-notch musicians. They must also be tasteful—too many blasts of guitar noise, time signature changes, abrupt genre switches, and monotonous shrieks, and the listeners may go running for their parents’ Simon and Garfunkel records. Thankfully, however, TDEP demonstrate such a tight command of their craft that “Option Paralysis” manages to be a captivating, and at times sublime listen.

Helping the band’s cause is a set of compelling performances from vocalist Puciato, who possesses a legion of voices. Sometimes, he sounds like Trent Reznor at his most pathetic, at others, like Living Colour’s Corey Glover at his most electric. Puciato’s unmelodic side has variety too—he yells, he whines, he screams, and he screeches. Either by luck or good taste, Puciato manages to avoid indulging in the atavistic grunting of death metal.

One need only listen to the band’s 1999 debut, “Calculating Infinity,” which was released before Puciato joined the group, to explore what TDEP would sound like without Puciato. Despite the occasional jazz guitar break, that genre classic is too relentless to invite end-to-end listens. Puciato’s versatility ensures that there’s no such problem with “Option Paralysis.” His diverse vocal styles encourage repeat listens in an attempt to discern the subtle differences.

Another important implication of Puciato’s presence is that TDEP have to write melodic, restrained music to accommodate him—it’s impolite to abuse your instrument’s noise-making ability while your vocalist is trying to sing. And as the album’s second single “Chinese Whispers” shows, they’ve become quite adept at integrating melody into mathcore. Throughout the track, TDEP use mellow breaks to release the tension built up during their aggressive sections. For instance, about half-way through the song, Puciato begins to scream atop an angular guitar riff and steady drumbeat. Then, as Puciato’s screams grow more desperate, the drums charge into double-time. Catharsis comes as the band transitions into a steadier and more ethereal chorus.

It’s this dynamic that gives “Option Paralysis” its explosiveness. However, this jolting technique also comes with a potential drawback—it can become, at times, exhausting.

Fortunately, the album’s intelligent track sequencing trivializes this would-be flaw. The record opens with the aforementioned “Farewell, Mona Lisa,” which clearly demonstrates the multiple styles TDEP have at their command. As the album continues, shorter, noisier songs are interspersed between their more melodic counterparts. For instance, after two particularly aggressive numbers, the band lines up the album’s centerpiece, a mathcore-lounge tune called “Widower.” The song begins with some jazzy piano playing that grows muddier as Puciato’s vocals crescendo, building into the song’s middle section, a paen to lost love animated by deft tribal drumming. Then, after the obligatory mathcore breakdown, the song heads into the album’s highpoint—when Puciato’s vocals and his bandmates’ guitarwork, which started in discord, resolve into a thunderous harmony. This ecstatic experience gives momentum to the next few tracks, its soaring melody energizing the heaviness around it. This energy continues through to closer, “Parasitic Twins,” a mood piece that ends the record on a mellow yet unnerving note.

One of the few flaws in the album is its overly-polished production. Long-time producer Steve Evetts captures the band with such clarity that they sound slightly clinical. With a more vicious production job, all 41 minutes of this album would have been a joy. Nonetheless, TDEP have succeeded in creating an album that is not just powerful on first listen, but deep and inspired enough to yield rewards upon further exploration. Though hyperactivity drives “Option Paralysis”, the record demands nothing less than full and unflinching attention.

—Staff writer Mark A. Fusunyan can be reached at fusunyan@fas.harvard.edu.