High Council: Cruel and Unusual (Album Review)
Photo by Genevieve Snaps
High Council’s latest offering feels less like an album release and more like a ritual unveiling—honoring the roots of metal while stretching its reach into darker, older soil. Cruel and Unusual, the sophomore full-length from New Jersey music artists, is a masterstroke of traditional heavy metal that feels carved from stone and sanctified in fire. Its eight meticulously crafted tracks summon the sound of ancient battles, mystical vows, and desolate futures, all while standing firmly on the shoulders of giants like Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, and Symphony X — but with their own sharpened blade.
What distinguishes Cruel and Unusual from its NWOTHM peers isn’t just its fidelity to classic structures — it’s the evocative sense of time the band bends into the music. There is a distinct medieval thread running through the heart of this record, not in pastiche or cosplay, but in harmonic architecture: the use of ancient modes like Dorian and Aeolian, the narrative lyricism, the vocal inflections, and the modal guitar phrasing that channels the solemnity of old-world hymns.
Take the standout “Plaguebringer 2025” — its intro glows with melancholic beauty, like a bard’s lament carried on synth-slick winds. When the song kicks into motion, the harmonies shift into something more accessible, lending it the emotional familiarity of folk tradition while still anchoring itself in thunderous metal. The solo here is very nice — melodic, lyrical, and completely in conversation with the song’s core themes. It sings.
Meanwhile, “Routed in the Wood (By Eldlings and Brackenguard)” plays like a saga passed down through generations, complete with lyrics of myth and magic: “Wearing gauntlets of mithril enchanted by the Midnight Fae…” This is power metal through a truly literary lens. The track’s theatrical vocal peaks — reminiscent of classic Bruce Dickinson — elevate the tale into the realm of the epic, without tipping into parody.
“Jackal,” on the other hand, explores a darker, more brooding side. Though its harmonies feel a bit angular at first, once the heavier sections roll in, the tension finds its purpose. Not every risk lands as strongly here, but even the missteps feel like choices made in the pursuit of vision.
The title track, “Cruel and Unusual,” and its spiritual sibling “To From Whence” are the high-energy twin blades of the record, both rooted deeply in NWOTHM aesthetics — palm-muted gallops, soaring vocal refrains, dual-guitar harmonies — but never rehashed. There’s a whiff of “Run to the Hills” in “Liberator,” but it plays more like a tribute from a parallel dimension where the metal gods were raised in New Jersey pine barrens.
And then there’s “Schwarzschild Radius,” which opens like a lone candle flickering in a cathedral, only to evolve into one of the album’s most gorgeously melancholic melodies. The closing instrumental “Wildspace” is another curveball: a space-faring piece that offers resolution without indulgence — cinematic in scope, but rooted in restraint. Nobody ever paints outside the lines with this album, and everything flows together quite well.
High Council’s lineup — Bob Saunders and Steve Donahue (guitars, vocals), Lou DiDomenico (bass, keyboards), and Greg “Wolfman Vegas” McKeever (drums) — is as tight as it is ambitious. The dual guitar harmonies are both muscular and melodic, and the vocals soar without losing their rawness. The rhythm section locks into grooves that nod toward progressive intricacy without abandoning traditional structure. It’s a careful balance of intellect and instinct.
Artwork: Apocalyptic Nuke / Medi
The production, handled by Eric McNelis at The Gradwell House, is crystal clear without being sterile. There's enough grit to feel real, but enough polish to let the subtleties breathe — especially in the lower dynamics and layered harmonies.
If Cruel and Unusual proves anything, it’s that High Council isn’t just another act paying homage to metal’s golden age — they’re advancing its mythology. With a keen understanding of modal harmony, narrative songwriting, and dramatic pacing, this is an album that will speak not only to diehards of classic heavy metal, but to those who believe that music can still sound ancient and dangerous, even in a digital age.
For fans of: Iron Maiden, Symphony X, Atlantean Kodex, early Metallica, Blind Guardian, and the sacred geometry of riff.
Courtesy of The Metallist PR
