Metalcore heavyweights Norma Jean return to Solid State Records with Polar Similar in a brash collection of intensity, showing no sign of releasing their firm jugular grip of the senses. Tracks play out like letters to the ambiguous "you" and "your" place in this chaotic world, partitioned by slowly methodical moments of madness and brief lapses to stop and look around. Though amidst the wall of noise there exists distinct clarity, heightened melody and even quiet introspection.
Chopping drum claps in "I. The Planet" leads to groaning bass ripples and droning guitar chunks, cut short by the bellowing of “I hope you burn” within the metallic rumble filling the void.
“Everyone Talking Over Everyone Else” builds up melodically before crashing through vocals sung through a scream and metallic vigor that’s been building up continuously for years on end. Nearly 2 decades running and the Norma Jean brand of metalcore has stayed relentlessly brutal in chaotic moments like the flurry of “Forever Hurtling Towards Andromeda.” Slower paced burning chugs like “1,000,000 Watts” make the band sound disturbingly angry from the tones of every single instrument to vocalist Cory Putman’s words of war, despite its somber outing.
The haunting echoes of “II. The People” allow a breath of reprieve, further allusion to an overview of planetary outlooks in the cryptic hum of automated voice messages and dial tones redialing melodically.
“Death Is A Living Partner” moves furiously fast, packing intensity with speed between invincibility and the inevitability of the foreboding, gone quick as the two minutes and change will allow it. Putman paints further imagery of death outright in “Synthetic Sun” with the horse of death, hoping the dead brings the dead, posing the question if you really feel alive, poking at more than just a metaphor. In one of the more slower building moments of “Reaction” you realize that Putman and company can put out a few sweet melodies and even be a bit thoughtful, warning to care for what’s left behind.
“III. Nebula” warbles a faintly singular guitar slide in an interlude straight out of a western, hazy as the title suggests and a warmer introduction to what might be the supposed oncoming onslaught.
“The Close And Discontent” rocks out in southern metal tones as we get wished well, further reference to said nebula with a cloud of blood and a promise to never return to the sea again. In “An Ocean Of War” the thematic breakup gets lost in a flurry of drum beats and guitar strums, yet even with the promise that all’s well under control, the breakup scene hints at some vulnerability. The backwards puzzlement of “A Thousand Years A Minute” gets lost in an effort to try not to, wondering if wanting to live was worth wanting before fuzzing out in a tornado radar warning.
Closing track “IV. The Nexus” interludes quiet echoes before crashing in abruptly about the wounded world, imploring you to actually try as the walls close inwards, then echoing into obscurity.
Let’s be frank: Polar Similar is a dark place in which we live according to Norma Jean. Yet the limelight to dreaded darkness of death is a constant certainty of principle. The group stands tall and upright as king of the ashes while you, oh horrible you, will likely burn. Not that "you" is in reference to just anyone but the antithesis of everything that they stand for. The world may lay to waste but the hope lies in those such as Norma Jean stand firmly in the branding they fiercely defend.