Greet Death - Dixieland (2017)

Greet Death’s debut album is a useful tool in parsing the difference between originality and innovation. It takes only 30 seconds of the first proper track “Bow” to spot just about every major influence on Dixieland, where the Flint, Mich. trio exist in a bloodline that runs from Failure to Hum to Deftones—bands that once tried to smuggle in sludgier, slower, and stonier forms of rock into alternative radio like joints at Coachella. But innovation, particularly in rock music, isn’t often the invention of something entirely new; it’s more likely a small and extremely significant tweak of an existing product. Most vocalists either mutter or mumble through this kind of music, buried in the mix and rendering any sense of “pop” theoretical or relative. Greet Death are pretty much the exact opposite of that. This is a remarkably tuneful, forthright pop-rock band that just so happens to play six-minute songs at bradycardic tempos.

No matter how loud or feedback-scarred the guitars get on Dixieland, it would never be enough to hide the vocals of Sam Boyhtari. His are a nasal glam-geek variant, something along the lines of Brian Molko or even Dan Bejar. And if the latter seems unfathomable in the context of a band that could either be described as slowcore or doomgaze, Boyhtari’s released another striking album a few weeks ago as War War War that’s virtually Destroyer fanfic. It’s an acquired taste for certain, a splash of sriracha with a bright, almost chemical heat that fundamentally alters everything around it. Though “Bow” and “The Waste” make compelling use of bludgeoning guitar tones and mesmeric repetition, Boyhtari’s sprightly melodies and unorthodox enunciation take this way outside the realm of stoner rock. The compact surge of “Valediction” sounds like Siamese Dream without the solos. This is active listening, abetted by the diamond-cut production of Nick Diener, who’s quickly becoming Michigan’s answer to Will Yip.

Yet, the greatest attribute of Dixieland is that all of the above is still applicable even when Boyhtari isn’t singing. With the exception of the interlude “Again,” guitarist Logan Gaval carries the more versatile and expository Side B. Gaval can get gauzy enough to go with the aqueous flow of “Black Hole Jesus Christ,” though Greet Death’s geographical roots are exposed by the denim-rough grain he takes on “Dragged to Hell” and the monolithic, perpetual crescendo of “Cumbersome,” which clinches it with a Silver Bullet Band blues-bend solo.