Parkway Drive's Atlas Is One Compellingly Twisted Set of Road Maps

I'm pretty much a neophyte to metalcore, the subgenre of metal most readily known for Cookie Monster vocals which is, true to form for the Sesame Street legend, raspy yet highly emotive almost to the point where one wonders if the singer/screecher can pull himself back off the ragged edge. What I do find highly sexy about the style is how driven the bands themselves can be. They launch their adrenaline higher and higher and higher until just when you think they've lost all sense of direction the zig-zagging comes in for a commendable three-point landing. Parkway Drive is an outfit best gobbled down as a total package. If the sum of the parts prove greater than any individual the band's brought its best work to the table. The New South Wales, Australia combo's latest goes by the name "Atlas". As most of us likely know an atlas is a collection of road maps helping its owner navigate countless national and worldly locales. Chalk one up for apt product announcement. "Atlas" succeeds at both crafting delicate grooves as well as the time-tested go for the jugular metal maniacal guitar passages and drum lid lifters. For example it's not possible to absorb the opening notes to "The Slow Surrender" without feeling the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. That's a bone-chilling introduction that leaves you curious about what's around the next bend. Luke "Pig" Kilpatrick should given a pat on the back for his mastery in mood setting. Within the bounds of that same song the guitar's pulse rate soars from the free and easy "watch me show off with some basic key carnage" to an unabashed machine gun delivery. It's like being caught in one of those immense flood situations only you don't exactly want to be possessed of the smarts needed to come in out of the rain. The sultan of guttural scream, Winston McCall's PreCambrian focus cleaves to fighting for one's life. He espouses remaining firmly in the moment for "Death is a heartbeat away". I remind everyone that the sum of the parts make listening experiences like this more likely to be planted  in the realm of compelling rather than that weird car crash we're glad we aren't playing the role of victims in. The ideally named "Dream Run" flat out pummels your skull with Ben Gordon's top drawer drum exhibition. No need to test him for steroids but, on the other hand, who'd blame you for inquiring. "Swing" contains another heaping helping of Ben unchained. It bears mentioning that these guys have an impressive way with designing their sound as melodic enough to be more mainstream accessible but not so pandering as to alienate die-hards who don't want their metalcore to be offered up to them as tap water weak. "Sparks" proves my point ably. Guitar in this instance is of a lighter acoustic stripe, all the easier to allow Winston to suggest that, "We are all sparks in a darkening world. Yet some things were meant to burn". Repeatedly Parkway Drive eases you in with powerful yet not unduly menacing note sequences and then, the demonic possession factor jumps up to eleven on the volume knob, twelve if you can believe that's possible. What's most exciting is Parkway Drive have apparently hit their full stride as a band in only their fourth full length CD. The evolution process should be endlessly fascinating. "Atlas" guarantees to take music listeners on journeys that leave them exhausted, but in the most rewarding of ways.