ID.ENTITY

ID.Entity is the eighth album from this renowned Polish progressive rock/metal band; their first in five years as well as the first release featuring guitarist Maciej Meller (replacing longtime original guitarist Piotr Grudziński after his sudden death in 2016). Their last LP, 2018's Wasteland, represented (certainly in retrospect) a transition moment for the band. With Grudziński's passing, Duda took over primary guitar duties (alongside bass and vocals), resulting in a more riff-heavy, metallic sounding record. Without question and by nature a somewhat different sounding record, Wasteland nonetheless represented a powerful and affecting statement from the band. "Lament" still hits me hard every time.

With the January 2023 release of ID.Entity, Riverside has not only returned with a strong new album, a new fulltime guitarist, and a world tour that kicked off in my home state (and of course I had to miss it), but also with a renewed sense of artistic purpose. Traveling along a musical spectrum that ranges from quiet, almost ballad-like nuance to explosive metal anger, with multiple stops in between, ID.Entity bleeds emotional verisimilitude amid a broad dispersion of heavy progressive melody.

ID.Entity exemplifies the themes of this record: identity in the digital era. How vision is warped and manipulated by social media. Truth becomes malleable, political discourse becomes weaponized, self-realization becomes anathematic, and the entirety of one's being becomes commerce fodder.

Heady themes indeed, and Riverside delivers them in a powerfully cohesive and engaging album. Their songs reflect these ideas in a thematic concept album that questions and challenges the new realities of this social transition.

Leading off the album with "Friend or Foe?" is a gutsy choice. For starters, the track doesn't sound like anything else on the album. Nor does it sound like a Riverside tune in general. At least, not at first. It's a synth driven 80s pastiche with pop sensibilities of a bygone (but influential) era. To my ancient ears it sounds like something a-ha would have released in their '80s North American heyday. Only when the guitars crunch in during the pre-chorus/chorus do we realize we are in other territory entirely.

So yeah, it's gutsy, but it's the meta aspect that fascinates me. The early/mid 80s was the beginning of the personal computer/online era. Although it took another decade for mass acceptance and then another for social media to take off, the mid 80s was the launching pad for the Digital Age. What a perfect stylistic metaphor for this album's opening track, which delves into the sublimation or obfuscation of self in a virtual world, and the endless parade of masks worn in online interaction.

Plus it's a total pop earworm of the best kind.

"Landmine Blast" evokes the booming, forceful immediacy of crap going sideways in social media. Be it from Cancel Culture overreacting or General Stupidity accelerating. For whatever reason, the wrong words were said at the wrong time, context be damned, and the resulting detonation of outrage rolls on exponentially, without nuance or understanding, or perhaps even with too much of both. The track opens with some country-esque riffing, moving into a strong metal power swell. Middle Eastern melodicism is woven throughout the tune, adding exotic beauty through the crunch and distortion.

You can almost forgive the band for including the cheeseball 'terms and conditions' opening to "Big Tech Brother". Good idea in theory, but in practice, it's a bit silly. Still, it's over in seconds and the keyboard-driven riffing takes over. While the synthetic horns are an odd aesthetic, the transition to Hammonds as the intro ends allow the song to take on a haunting, howling vibe. The song excoriates its title subjects as it puts the adage "when you don't pay for the product, you are the product" to powerful musical effect. The band plays with dynamics to drive their concepts with melodic precision, from quiet piano interludes to atmospheric guitars and organs to evoke an endless digital prison landscape.

"Post-Truth" laments antagonism, hatred, and division, in which the dissemination of truth and verifiable reality becomes refracted through emotion and agenda. Capitalizing on the manipulation of fear, anger, and outrage is big money.

Headline drew attention Then I lost my temper Again

The song ends with a soft piano reprise of the main melody, a plea of hope and reconciliation perhaps? Or is it a normalization of self-righteous outrage? This is the world we live in.

"The Place Where I Belong", at 13 minutes, is the album's "epic" track. In many ways it summarizes the entirety of the record, emphasizing political division, anger, insincerity, hiding identity, being forced into social conformity, and ignorance presented as defining knowledge. The slow, quieter opening erupts at around the three minute mark with a bluesy bass riff. The band briefly breaks out in a strong jam before the verses kick back in.

Duda's vocals vacillate between anger and self-recrimination as he tries to obtain the titular Westphalia, that place of individual balance, self-realization, and acceptance. His vocals, alongside Meller's shimmering guitar melodie, imbue the song with a strength, beauty, and dignity. It's not a powerful "TIME TO KICK ASS! I BELIEVE IN ME!" bit of posturing that erupts with wailing soloes and a thundering wall of rhythm section badassery. This is powerful musical reconciliation that underscores the lyrical recapitulation of self.

"I'm Done With You" takes its fuzz-bass opening and drives into full-on exorcism mode; good riddance to bad rubbish indeed. Through musical urgency the band bids a not-so fond farewell to the patronization of those who insist they have our best interests at heart.

You are not my judge You are not my God You are not my own CEO Why don't you simply shut your mouth And take your poison from my soul Far away

A powerful piece of self-determination, "I'm Done With You" pulls no punches. It segues into the more uptempo "Self-Aware", with a strong central riff, driving rhythm section, and even some elements of pop melodic construction. If anything, it makes a fine reflection of the "Friend or Foe?" opener. There we questioned who we (and others) really are; here the focus is on reconciliation. Unplugging but not disconnecting entirely. We still need that human connection. Musically the song has hints of Signals-era Rush; again bringing that mid 80s milieu back into high relief. We've come full circle in our reflection of the deregulation of human behavior in the digital realm.

ID.Entity was the first "major" prog release of 2023, and as such set the bar pretty high. It presents an exemplary collection of songs that probe the fragmentation of social and individual identity. The album doesn't proselytize, but it doesn't pull its punches either. Change, as it always does, begins with the individual. Riverside delivers this excoriation of the digital ethos in a manner both explosive and measured. ID.Entity is a different sounding album for the band, but not an entirely foreign one and ultimately an engagingly successful endeavor. Welcome back guys!