Science as thematic material fits extremely well with metal- but only certain parts of it. Putrevore lyrics should not be about science, and nor should Trollfest’s, but the sort of dispassionate tech-centric themes found in the work of bands like Meshuggah, complement the cold complexity of their music perfectly. Control Human Delete are definitely of this ilk- in fact, there is something distinctly Meshuggah about their very name. And they take the ‘science’ theme seriously. Extremely seriously. This is an album filled with cleverclogs rhythms, computer blips, and bizarre rants about data modelling.

I’ve mentioned Meshuggah but that’s kind of a lazy comparison. In fact, despite whatever faults it may have (more on that below), Prime Mover is certainly an original record which doesn’t deserve any glib parallels. In spirit (and even sometimes in delivery) it feels more like an electronica album than a metal one. The drums are entirely computerised, and in my view the way in which they they tick-tock and putter-putter defines the band’s sound. Opener New Replicator interweaves complex guitar rhythms with skittering percussive bleeps and bloops to disorienting effect. It doesn’t ever look for the kind of gigantic groove that a comparable, more ‘metal’ band might nail, and instead feels more like an experiment in rhythm and timbre. On the latter point, another trademark is the use of piercing synths (which remind me of the melody lines from my favourite The Mars Volta tune, Viscera Eyes). The way they screech through the sound with their garbled textures and shrill melodies is something to behold-see the Continuous Data suite, or Recurrence.

What of the downsides? At times, it can come across as too synthetic. While the computerised feel it gives off is really the point of the album, the band sometimes attempt ideas that would probably work better in the hands of a more conventional metal lineup. The down-tempo doom-death leanings of Earth-like Behaviour, for instance, would benefit from a more organic band sensibility, in my opinion. Then, there’s another factor which could be strength or weakness depending on perspective: put simply, at times this is fucking bonkers. On various occasions the riffing is shunted away from centre stage, ceding precedence to vocalist Rien Oortgiesen’s weird rants. On Continuous Data, for example, these are about ‘cosmic downgrading’ and ‘tiny vibrations forming into impossible shapes’. Combined with the caterwauling synths and hyperactive drum machine, the effect is actually quite scary. All of these elements come together in the closing track, Recurrence; a mad combination of radiant synth textures, quirky tech-metal riffing and oddball musing about fractions and death. A strange, intriguing record, which is worth hearing.