Svaveldioxid: Misär O.D. 12"

Svaveldioxid: Misär O.D. 12” (Phobia Records) Phobia Records brings us a new album from Sweden’s Svaveldioxid, who has amassed quite a discography over their first decade of releasing records. I have friends who are total d-beat nerds and know that discography and its intricacies like the back of their hand. Those folks can tell you precisely how Misär O.D. stacks up against their split LP with Absolut from 2017 or their most recent 10” Främmande Samtid Skrämmande Framtid, but unfortunately I’m not qualified to do that. I’ve checked in with Svaveldioxid periodically over the years and always enjoyed them, but I come to Misär O.D. without much baggage. If you’re not familiar with Svaveldioxid, Sorry State’s readers might hear “Swedish d-beat” and think of the Totalitär-influenced sound that has been so popular lately with bands like Verdict, Gefyr, and Exploatör, but Svaveldioxid are a little different from that, their sound rooted in the gloomier end of Swedish d-beat populated by bands like Disfear and Avskum. Rather than agile riffs that frequently crash into that flatted fifth “evil note,” Svaveldioxid’s riffs are more minor-key, heavier, and driving rather than frantic. The other day I was listening to this record while I was working, and my attention drifted away from it to the point where I forgot what I was listening to… when I snapped back, for a second I was like, “am I listening to Impalers?” That’s not a comparison I would have reached for, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. Svaveldioxid’s vocals sound very similar to Ulsh’s—a gravel-y shout treated with a healthy amount of reverb—and both bands also take a lot from self-titled / Criminal Trap-era Anti-Cimex, sitting in that pocket between more primitive raging d-beat and the slicker Motorcharged sound. Svaveldioxid sounds more European to me, though, with touches like the melodic, tremolo-picked guitar leads that pop up on several songs. Every once in a while they throw something unexpected at you, though, like the wild pogo breakdown in “En Död Snut Är En Bra Snut.” While it’s a long way from “melodic crust,” the hints of melody and sophisticated songwriting touches on Misär O.D. help separate it from the pack, making it a slightly elevated d-beat record that doesn’t skimp on the essential speed and power.