This review is kind of an afterthought to 2009, partly in the absence of anything exciting to speak of in the first few weeks of 2010, and partly because it is a bit of an odd choice that didn’t seem to fit in with any of the metal stuff I was reviewing regularly at the time. Hell, it is good, though.

Troyka is about as metal as King Crimson. In other words, it isn’t remotely, but it is something that really ought to be appreciated by experimentally-minded metal listeners. In fact, having just looked at their publicity, I see Time Out have referred to them as “King Crimson for the iPod generation”. Which is a completely idiotic thing to say, but nevertheless it makes me feel validated in the comparison I made a few sentences ago. It’s true that there’s definitely a big affinity with the more adventurous moments of the prog gods.

Troyka are an improvisational, instrumental power trio- happily avoiding pollution by not only the human voice itself, but also by a bassist (the line-up is drums, guitar and organ). What this means is that they are unimpeded by such primitive concerns as pulse and tonal anchoring. Not that these things are entirely absent, but they clearly aren’t bound by them in the same way as something more conventional. So they can twist from the most confusing and contorted riff patterns with the most hammering percussive rhythms into airy, ambient pieces that have no regular time feel at all (e.g. Golden).

Chris Montague’s guitar sound is often extremely heavy, although always erratically and unpredictably so. So take opener, Tax Return, which is based largely on winding chromatic lines which meander in all directions with seemingly little focus. But they switch schizophrenically and suddenly into metallically crashing power chords that collapse in on themselves as soon as they are registered by your ears, giving the whole thing a volatile, edgy character. If you want comparisons, think a snappier, less indie and more jazz Kayo Dot, or Trevor Dunn’s Trio Convulsant but more fun and with less ultra-avant-garde attitude. Another tune which has to be heard is Clint, which sounds a bit like Earth being enthusiastically mounted by Emerson, Lake and Palmer.

By jazz standards the numbers are generally short, and follow a clear train of thought- they are complex compositions but each has a recognisable mood. This is not the orthodox theme-soloing-theme format that is easily associated with jazz music. There really aren’t structured solos to speak of, in fact- the whole thing is based on its restless group interaction that sometimes clatters and sometimes floats gracefully from gesture to gesture. They master the art of hitting the most perplexing grooves, which morph improbably into something else as soon as you think you have a handle on what they are doing. Cajoch is one of the cleverest things I’ve heard for ages- both as catchy as ebola and as unpredictable as Nunslaughter isn’t.

If you are into the various bands mentioned in the preceding (apart from perhaps Nunslaughter), you should hear this. Whilst for the most part it’s more subtle than heavy (it does a very good job of being both at once), it has a metallic edge to it a lot of the time giving it the intensity that any power trio cannot be without (and a spontaneity that virtually none have). Fvcking good.