Death - The Sound of Perseverance

Do you feel the pain that I feel?

The pain that lives inside

Do you wear the chains that I wear

The ones that rub me raw

Charles "Chuck" Schuldiner is one of the most important and influential figures in the metal world. His fame undoubtedly grew after his premature death, on December 13, 2001, from cancer at just 34 years old. In his field, however, his renown had already been deservedly cemented in the years before: his role as a musician and composer with Death and later with Control Denied was such that he received recognition and esteem even outside his own territory, as well as countless tributes to his memory.

An exceptional guitarist in terms of technique and compositional taste, Chuck Schuldiner was also a complex personality, dominant to the point of being quarrelsome, forever torn contradictorily between lucid, profound analyses of the human condition and more banal, if not irritating, outbursts in his personal statements and his dealings with others. Light and shadow intertwine throughout his career.

In the second half of the 1980s, Schuldiner was among the founding fathers of the so-called death-metal genre, and according to many he was even its sole originator (though he himself was keen to reject that claim to primacy). This is thanks to the sonic traits he managed to introduce and develop, as well as the multifaceted themes he associated with the genre, creating templates for it and then leaving them behind. Not only that: Schuldiner was also among the leading innovators in this field, contributing to the birth of the technical-death-metal subgenre alongside a handful of other contemporary bands. In doing so he transcended the boundaries of the very scene he had helped to seed and consolidate, to the point that in the final stages of his career he can be said to have essentially broken away from it, arriving at a personal form of progressive-metal, far more refined and introspective than the raw, decaying sound of his early work.

Schuldiner therefore laid down and defined the harshest, most violent foundations of death-metal, and also contributed enormously to its more complex and intellectual developments. But not only that: he also recorded one of the genre's most accessible and approachable albums, that Symbolic which is often recommended as a first listen to those wanting to get into the genre.

Among the various manifestations of extreme metal, death-metal is one of those that has proven, over the years, to be the most adaptable, and has spread, partly for this reason, across the entire globe: countless bands and local scenes have given it their own interpretation, developing it into multiple styles, substyles and variants, and blending it with various other genres (not only metal ones).

The name itself evokes death, violence and pain, which indeed clearly characterized the lyrics and atmospheres of this genre in its early days. Among fans, however, there's a widespread belief that death-metal was named this way by the music press not directly to indicate this horror-infused imagery typical of the genre's first records, but specifically as an association with Death. Not so much "the metal of death," then, as rather the metal of Death and of those who played like them, even if the two things did go hand in hand. This idea is unproven, and there's no trace of reviews from the era making this same claim, but it's telling that many still accept it today, since it wouldn't sound strange at all to name an entire genre after this band.

Chuck was nicknamed "the godfather of death metal" because of his charisma, but he never cared much for the "title." Demanding and precise when it came to his instrument and his work in the studio, he was unusually modest and reserved when it came to presenting himself to the public. This is how he commented on the fame he had earned: "I don't think I deserve credit for this death-metal stuff, I'm just a guy with a band and I think Death is just a metal band." He didn't even consider himself the true founder of the genre, an honor he attributed to Possessed, who had already titled one of their songs "Death Metal" before Death even existed.

To describe the genesis of death metal, to understand where its foundations lie and why Chuck Schuldiner was such an important chapter in the evolution of metal, we need to take a step back and trace it to its roots.

The origins

By the early '80s, heavy metal was already an institution: bands like Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Motorhead, Mercyful Fate and Venom were among its most celebrated and influential exponents. The latter two stood out not only for their musical merits but also for the macabre, horror-tinged, satanic imagery that constantly accompanied them through lyrics, iconography and live shows - an aesthetic that would go on to influence much of extreme metal.

At the same time, Venom had also carved out a very niche but historically crucial strand, speed metal, which compared to traditional heavy metal was more relentless, raw, coarse and fast. Drawing on speed metal, but often on hardcore punk too, and driven by the desire to make heavy metal even harder and more aggressive, thrash metal (from the verb "to thrash") soon emerged, with bands like Metallica, Anthrax, Megadeth, Exodus, Celtic Frost and, in particular, Slayer.

The rhythms had become much harder, while the vocals were gradually abandoning the soaring high notes of heavy metal in favor of an increasingly angry, screamed delivery. The subject matter, too, was growing more diverse and open to different approaches: some bands leaned into fantasy and the imaginative, others into the esoteric and occult, while still others wrote starker, more realistic lyrics reflecting the problems of contemporary society, violence in the world above all. It was a small sonic revolution, a melting pot of ideas constantly taken apart and reassembled by countless bands, each offering its own take on a basic formula, trading demo tapes across continents and trying to outdo friends and rivals in heaviness or stage presence, album after album.

The key point is that thrash metal is the foundation from which death metal originates. Every early band in the genre came up through the school of thrash. And among its most attentive and diligent students was Chuck Schuldiner himself.

There are three bands above all that proved most influential for the subsequent birth of death metal: one from Europe and two from the United States. From the Old Continent came the celebrated Swiss outfit Celtic Frost. Born out of HellHammer, they reforged the canons of speed metal into something even darker, lending thrash metal a bestial, sulphurous atmosphere and in doing so shaping the embryos of many extreme genres. "Morbid Tales" from 1984 and "To Mega Therion" from 1985 were, for their time, among the most brutal and extreme things one could listen to.

From Los Angeles, Slayer proved no less influential on extreme metal. They too started out from speed metal, but quickly made thrash metal their own, turning it into something even more malevolent and oppressive. With "Hell Awaits" in 1985 and the undisputed milestone "Reign In Blood" in 1986, they seemed to go beyond what other speed and thrash bands had done, delivering music that was even more violent, unsettling and searing. Across their albums, with a strong theatrical streak and a clear intent to shock, they told of ghastly infernal scenarios, rains of blood and sociopathic killers. Backed by harsh sounds and infernal, often gruesome atmospheres, Slayer are rightly regarded by music history as cornerstones of extreme metal.

And then there's the lesser-known Possessed, who, like a brief flash across the sky, had an impact they could never have anticipated in their extremely short career. Their debut album, "Seven Churches", from 1985, made thrash metal even rawer and more gruesome, and in doing so Possessed may well have already invented death metal... we'll come back to that shortly.

These obviously weren't the only albums young metalhead musicians were listening to in the mid-'80s. Many others could be added to the list, from Kreator of the German thrash school ("Pleasure to Kill" from 1986, which in many ways already sounds like death metal) to Sepultura of the Brazilian scene ("Morbid Visions", the same year). But these three were the ones with the greatest influence - the most explicit, the deepest and the broadest in scope - as well as the ones that found the widest response among fans and critics alike.

It was within this musical context that the young Chuck Schuldiner came of age, along with other musicians of his generation who shared the same interests and artistic intent. Like many kids his age, he started out listening to hard & heavy classics, spending his adolescence shut in his room listening to rock music, reading fantasy novels, watching horror films, before moving on to increasingly heavier sounds. For him, music had to be free to evolve and develop. His favorite band in the early '80s was Sortilège, a French heavy metal outfit largely forgotten today but a cult name at the time for anyone looking for something from outside the English-speaking world. Schuldiner also happily listened to jazz and classical music: for him there was no point getting fixated on a single name, and music had to be left artistically free to develop and draw on various sources. He soon began actively playing music, spending hours and hours on guitar in the garage, trying to replicate both the classics he loved and the heavier currents that had recently emerged, like speed and thrash, which had immediately caught his interest.

The first band he founded was Mantas, together with Kam Lee and Rick Rozz. Between 1982 and 1984 the young Schuldiner recorded a handful of demos, the most important of which is the last one, "Death By Metal" (the earlier demos would later be gathered under the same name for an anthology released by Relapse in 2012). Sound-wise they're nearly unlistenable, given the scant means at his disposal, and they reveal a raw, unpolished, dirty sound that seems to twist speed metal and primordial thrash into something more furious and obsessive. It's hard to say how much of that was due to inexperience in trying to emulate his idols, and how much to an already present, if still embryonic, desire to outdo them in sheer brutality. The spark that ultimately set him alight was Possessed, who left him - like many of his friends and peers in Florida - utterly stunned.

As mentioned, some consider "Seven Churches" from 1985 to already be the first true death-metal album, an idea Schuldiner himself embraced: he adored that record and wore out his copy of the vinyl. There's no real critical consensus on the matter, but it's undeniable that it was a turning point and a cornerstone in the birth of the genre. Thematically, "Seven Churches" deals in evil, satanic lyrics, while sonically it sounds even wilder and more rotten than many thrash records, with a clear drive in the songs to push extremism and violence further still. But there's one personal, crucial trait of Possessed that struck Schuldiner more than anything else at the time, and that would prove hugely influential: the vocal style of singer Jeff Becerra. Rather than the screamed, barked vocals typical of thrash metal, Becerra adopted a filthy, cavernous style, closer to a primal, animalistic roar than to singing proper, which would come to be known as the "growl." This was the key insight that showed the young Schuldiner which musical direction to take. By imitating the growl of Possessed, but making it even more phlegmy and guttural, his own vocal style would play a key role in making extreme metal even more savage. The growl would go on to be used by virtually every death-metal performer (and beyond) who followed, bent into countless shapes to explore its full expressive range.

The early days of Death

Life of misery, soon a corpse you be

As bones show through, nothing you can do

Relief does not exist

When you are born to die

With the pieces now all in place, Schuldiner re-forms Mantas under the new name Death, in homage to the Possessed song "Death Metal," and sets about not only reworking his earlier demos but writing new material, aiming for an even more violent sound.

He spends 1986 in the garage playing, at home watching horror movies, and in the studio recording. He brings in Chris Reifert (who would later find fame with Autopsy) to handle drums, while he records guitar, bass and vocals himself.

Scream Bloody Gore finally comes out in 1987. If you don't consider "Seven Churches" the first death-metal album, then this one undoubtedly is. From Motorhead to Venom, then on to Celtic Frost, up to Slayer and Possessed, you can trace a common thread showing a steady evolution of extreme sound. It wasn't just about being faster and heavier, but a sonic — and also thematic and imaginative — quest to shock and unsettle through peculiar atmospheres, the searing touch of distortion, and compositional flair. Records like "Reign in Blood" and "Seven Churches" sounded evil, and still do today, far more than records that now easily outpace them in sheer speed.

Scream Bloody Gore takes a leap forward, coming across as even more vicious, rotten, deranged and oppressive than thrash metal, so much so that the press initially dubbed it "butcher-shop thrash" for how crude and gory it was. And indeed, by comparison Metallica sound elegant and clean, almost restrained (almost). That boundary has now been crossed, and nothing will ever be the same. Looking back, it seems almost incredible that an album like this one spawned far more refined and catchy records down the line.

If Tom Araya's shrieking howls sounded like the herald of some infernal procession, Chuck Schuldiner's harrowing, graveyard growl sounds like a possessed zombie at the microphone, or a beast gone mad. The sheer force of the guitars is as savage as anything recorded up to that point, between frantic, heart-stopping riffs and razor-sharp, hallucinated solos. The drums are a relentless earthquake, like a butcher's cleaver coming down again and again. The bass is icy and pounded with such violence it seems about to snap its own strings. There's even room for a few melodic touches (the macabre opening arabesque of "Zombie Ritual," the unsettling arpeggio that opens "Evil Dead," the driving riff of "Beyond The Unholy Grave," the Sabbath-esque one in "Land Of No Return"), which blend perfectly with the violence and, in fact, generate a chilling contrast — another innovative element, though still in the background for now.

And yet, Scream Bloody Gore is a decidedly imperfect album. There's no particular polish to the sound, and the record still reeks of youthful naivety, partly because many tracks date back to the Mantas days — merely rearranged and made more oppressive. Many riffs sound too alike, if not outright repetitive, and there's little variety between songs. The lyrical themes at this early stage are hardly sophisticated; if anything, they're adolescent outpourings about disembowelments, occult rituals and the walking dead, inspired by horror directors like George Romero or John Carpenter. "Evil Dead," for instance, is a tribute to Bruce Campbell's "Evil Dead" saga. The choice has no deeper reason than that these themes seemed "cool" and rebellious to an American teenager. This is death metal, after all, and for the moment Schuldiner is only interested in shocking and scandalizing, singing of zombie rituals, baptisms in blood, assorted mutilations and whatever else might offend Florida's bigoted bourgeoisie.

Overall, the record sounds more chaotic than it does truly malevolent and unsettling — a bit like a pack of hooligans making more noise and damage than Slayer's legion of demons. There really aren't any great songs here; the album is one compressed monolith. This is precisely where Scream Bloody Gore falls short compared to "Reign In Blood," which, while less violent (though not by much), is far more precise and charismatic in channeling its emotions.

The early reviews are all negative, and even Steve Sinclair, the head of the label that releases the record (Combat), doesn't initially take it seriously, agreeing to sign the contract only at the insistence of Don Kaye, the band's manager, who believes wholeheartedly in Chuck Schuldiner and his bandmates. But the die is now cast, and all that's left is to grow and refine the new style.

The decisive leap in quality comes the following year. 1988 sees the release of Leprosy, which immediately reveals a marked maturation in Schuldiner. This time he's backed on drums by Bill Andrews, and a second guitarist joins to give the songs a more organic sound: Rick Rozz, with whom he'd already worked back in the Mantas days; the bass, meanwhile, is still Schuldiner's own domain, though the liner notes credit Terry Butler, who was unable to record in time and would only appear on the following album.

This time the lyrics aim not to shock but to unsettle, centered as they are on illness and human mortality. It's childish to talk about flying guts and clotting blood just for the sake of spectacle, but according to Schuldiner, you can't pretend death doesn't exist or doesn't touch us closely, bringing both physical and psychological anguish and suffering. With this thematic shift, Chuck's growl sounds desperate, as if venting in an anguished outburst, and both the vocal style and the music implicitly take on the function of a violent catharsis.

The compositions grow more assertive, giving greater space to the pulsing bass, which now sounds warm and relentless, deepening the anguish of the atmospheres. Greater technical skill in the interplay between rhythm and lead guitar enriches the harmony. Schuldiner frequently pairs the hard, mechanical riffs with brief solos that make heavy use of bending and tapping techniques. These solos make the arrangements more intricate and compelling; they're as sharp and frenetic as on the debut, but more deliberate.

Overall, the violence is the same as on Scream Bloody Gore, but it's wielded more intelligently and with greater care in the songwriting. The songs are more polished and become memorable, helped also by the warmer sound courtesy of Morrisound Studios, which would prove decisive in shaping the earliest death-metal records: "Born Dead," for instance, is a malevolent nightmare set to music; "Forgotten Past" is pure pandemonium, but with melodic openings that make it compelling; "Left To Die," with its surprisingly catchy arabesques, is a fierce social indictment of the American government sending young soldiers to die as cannon fodder; "Pull The Plug," with its rising and falling dynamics, is an alienating cry of despair in the face of death's inevitability.

Song lengths have grown slightly, moving from an average of 3 minutes to 4 or 5, with a couple pushing past 6 minutes, like the opening title track, made terrifying by its guitar crescendos and shifting rhythms, and the closing "Choke On It," which leaves a gut-wrenching lump in the throat.

Not even the most caustic and ferocious thrash in its criticism of war sounds this merciless and this rationally aware of being so. A reckoning with this record is unavoidable for anyone looking to try their hand at death metal, and this time around the specialist press celebrates it for its power and its innovative drive. Eric Greif, who oversaw the reissues of the albums after Schuldiner's death, recalls that period in an interview with Decibel Magazine from 24 May 2016: "Anyone who said they'd already loved Death two years earlier, when 'Scream Bloody Gore' came out, was lying — all those reviewers [...] it was only after 'Leprosy' came out that they changed their minds".

Leprosy is arguably the first true cornerstone of death metal, which Schuldiner definitively institutionalizes thanks to his stylistic personality and the songs' blend of ferocity and compelling charisma. Whoever comes after will inevitably have to treat it as a reference point, and many will draw on it in one way or another.

In 1990 came Spiritual Healing, with the same lineup, including Terry Butler (who this time really does play on it), except for Rick Rozz, who is replaced by James Murphy of Obituary. Thematically, flesh is no longer the focus, whether undead or diseased. Instead, Schuldiner's interest turns to the mind, psychiatric pathology, criminality, drug addiction, and the fragility of the psyche in the face of religious preachers. Musically, the songs follow in the footsteps of Leprosy, slightly more melodic and with greater technique. The arrangements become more polished: compared to its predecessors, the album sounds a little less devoted to pure violence and a little more focused on its own grueling, claustrophobic nature. This time Schuldiner writes songs that feel like they're meant to serve as the soundtrack to an asylum, rather than to necromancy or a hospital death. There is, however, no truly distinctive novelty here: the raw material is the same, just slightly reshaped.

The real misfortune of this record within Death's discography is that it sounds neither as wild and deranged as Scream Bloody Gore, nor as oppressive and bleak as Leprosy. With the strengths of its two predecessors diminished, Spiritual Healing isn't even a record that's truly open to technicality and melody, or at least not as boldly as will happen later on. As a result, in retrospect, it stands out less.

The press and the metalhead audience react lukewarmly, even showing themselves somewhat ungenerous: the opening "Living Monstrosity", the slow "Altering The Future", the psychotic "Defensive Personalities" or the chilling "Genetic Reconstruction" are nonetheless very solid tracks, with some masterful riffs and solos, and the rest of the album is never truly lackluster either. Simply put, Spiritual Healing isn't as striking and distinctive as Leprosy, and for that reason it will have a lesser impact on the scene. One review from the time even declares, quite prematurely, that the predictability of this record from one of death metal's cornerstone bands proves the genre has little left to say. It will turn out to be exactly the opposite.

The technical/progressive turn

There is a mask

That covers up one’s true intentions

Once removed, things become very clear

Analyze behavior patterns to see beneath

The person that is presented to you

Vulnerable through trust

Life is a twisted maze of obstacles

Presented by people with a secret face

As mentioned, Chuck Schuldiner isn't alone: alongside him in Florida, many other musicians with whom he shares interests, mutual influences and ideas are gearing up on similar territory, ready to release material not long after him. They put out their demos at the same time as Mantas/Death, or even earlier, play at the same venues, and trade material and cassette tapes with one another. For instance, Massacre debut with "From Beyond" in late 1991, but the band actually formed back in 1984, when Mantas were just taking their first steps, as were Obituary. Morbid Angel were even formed in 1983, and could have beaten Scream Bloody Gore to the punch in 1986 with "Abominations Of Desolation", had the band not been disappointed with the result and chosen to leave it as a demo that went unreleased until several years later. 

It's a bit like Columbus's egg: it's simply that Schuldiner's dedication and drive are so strong that he manages to get an official LP out first, thereby giving shape to a genre and putting it on stage right away — a genre that would otherwise have taken longer to inspire other musicians and convince record labels to invest in them. Chuck himself, deep down, doesn't consider himself the founder of anything. But the respect that so many continue to pay him didn't come about by chance. We can consider him a "primus inter pares" of death metal.

By the late '80s, in any case, the death metal movement is already in full health and has taken on its own distinctive traits apart from thrash, from which it nonetheless descends. Outside the Tampa scene, a number of new bands spring up, such as Malevolent Creation from New York or Cannibal Corpse from Buffalo, representing the genre's second wave. Death metal isn't necessarily heavier or more violent than thrash metal in terms of sheer decibels, and for some bands it won't even be faster. Obituary, for instance, are slowed-down, rotten to the core, bloody and self-mocking, and their 1989 album "Cause Of Death" is a groundbreaking pillar of the genre precisely because of how it uses slowness to make the sound even more harrowing and putrid.

Then there's Morbid Angel, who have no qualms about alternating chaotic, hallucinated passages with more measured ones, using lyrics inspired by Lovecraftian horror as the connective tissue, as on "Altars Of Madness" and "Blessed Are The Sick", two more cornerstones of the genre. Death themselves occasionally drop into a midtempo passage too. But death metal surpasses thrash in terms of atmosphere, wall of sound and attitude. Growled vocals are an immediately distinctive trait, but the musical style itself also takes on an identity of its own. Above all, it's that unique touch — we might call it the feeling — that sets it apart. 

Death metal isn't only taking hold in the United States, though: Pestilence from the Netherlands are moving from thrash to death, as are Sepultura in Brazil, while Entombed and At the Gates are taking their first steps in Sweden, and in England we find Bolt Thrower; even though it remains an underground scene (with the exception of Cannibal Corpse, who will surprisingly chart in the early '90s), death metal is rapidly spreading across the globe, expanding creatively, driven by fervent minds who find it the fitting expressive vehicle for a generation's rage and alienation, but there's also room in it for a need for reflection. And it's already about to give rise to a new strand, whose groundwork is already in the air. Schuldiner, instinctively, senses it coming.

Death metal, in fact, mutates rapidly and ends up being not necessarily faster and more furious, nor does it necessarily remain raw, filthy and bestial. On the contrary, as paradoxical as it may sound, those same ingredients can be combined to showcase great technical skill, whether in playing or composing, or even take on unexpectedly intellectual qualities, opening up to melody and harmony. Trey Azagthoth of Morbid Angel, for instance, is something of a guitar virtuoso. But above and beyond them all, Florida's Atheist stand out: in 1990, with "Piece Of Time", followed a year later by the monumental "Unquestionable Presence", they refound death metal, pushing its technique past its limits and even blending it with fusion and progressive-metal influences. Already active for years in the underground, personal troubles forced them to release their records later than they should have; their career would be short, initially overlooked because it was deemed too "complex", only to be rediscovered by critics and fans after the band had already split up: they can be considered one of the most brilliant death-metal outfits of all time, perhaps the main proof that the genre could aim for far loftier heights.

Thrash metal too was proving malleable, and around that time it had its own exponents of a technical/progressive variant: Switzerland's Coroner and Canada's Watchtower had, in the late Eighties, stunned the scene with a radically original and niche blend of violence and virtuosity. Schuldiner was a huge fan of all three bands; more broadly, he became deeply passionate about the whole progressive-metal movement that had sprung up a few years earlier (Queensryche, Fates Warning, and above all Psychotic Waltz), and this inspired him to push the evolution of his own music into overdrive. The problem was finding someone who wasn't just interested in playing in the direction he wanted to go, but who was also able to keep pace with his ambition and put up with his perfectionism. In private, Schuldiner had a difficult, extremely demanding personality. In these early years he frequently clashed with the other musicians in Death, whom he hired and fired from his band on a regular basis. He would even skip already scheduled shows in protest against the organizers, threatening hell to pay whenever his bandmates considered touring without him to honor the contracts anyway.

Death were his personal creation, after all: he was the sole author of all the music and all the lyrics, and he would never let anyone stray from the path he had laid out. A passionate musician, he was convinced the genre had to keep evolving in a state of total artistic freedom ("let the metal flow", he used to say), but to many he came across as overly perfectionist. He did, however, find a discreet, accommodating friend in Gene Hoglan, the extraordinary drummer of thrash outfit Dark Angel, one of the fiercest bands around. He sensed an immediate rapport with him, though it couldn't become reality right away, given Hoglan's commitments to his other band.

In 1991 Schuldiner reorganized the way Death operated, basing it on one-off collaborations with musicians he handpicked each time. For the new record in particular he recruited young bassist Steve Di Giorgio, already a veteran of Autopsy, along with guitarist Paul Masvidal and drummer Sean Reifert, both of Cynic, a band working along lines similar to Atheist's but who had yet to release an LP. They were all prodigious masters of their instruments, and this lineup is perhaps the most technically gifted in Death's entire history. The result was Human, a compact masterpiece of just over 30 minutes that, despite its brevity, has a great deal to say — and says it with real conviction. The lyrics grew more reflective and profound: Human, as in what makes us human, for better and for worse.

The strikingly unsettling cover shows anatomical drawings of the human body against a bleak backdrop, a reminder of our mortal nature, that we are made of flesh, blood and pain, that what horrifies us is also part of us. Human moves beyond the bodily themes of Leprosy and the mental ones of Spiritual Healing, shifting instead toward introspection. The atmosphere grows even more oppressive, reaching its peak on the instrumental "Cosmic Sea", where the balance between spectral keyboards and icy guitars conjures the image of being lost, drifting to one's death in the ocean depths where life itself began. The compositions become far more technical, not so much in terms of the solos (which are much cleaner and, in any case, not built around sheer speed) but above all in terms of intricate rhythmic interplay, elaborate and deliberately multifaceted arrangements, tempo changes, and interwoven bass-and-drum lines.

The influence of bands like Watchtower is especially noticeable in the rhythm section's playing, but so is that of Psychotic Waltz, whose style is filtered through and rendered far darker and more desperate — as befits a death-metal context. The technicality here serves the particular atmospheres and the message Schuldiner wanted to build: for him, technique was never an end in itself, or simply a flourish to show off, but an important vehicle for the message he wanted to convey. The result is a collection of unparalleled songs: "Flattening Of Emotions" sounds like a jackhammer used to pry open the mind, both literally and figuratively; "Suicide Machine" is even more dramatic and anguished, but what truly stuns is "Together As One", the most dynamic, chilling and colorful track on the record, closely followed by "Lack Of Comprehension", a reflection on the pain people inflict on one another. There's also a certain melodic streak in the solos, somewhat reminiscent of the earliest prog-metal bands, but far from conjuring fantastical, space-age imagery, it instead sounds dark and bone-chilling.

Human walks the path of a new subgenre inaugurated by Atheist and by then already fully mature, dubbed technical-death-metal by the press. As noted, it is formally neither the first record of the subgenre, nor the one that pushes the technical and introspective side of death metal to its most extreme conclusions (for instance, in 1993 Atheist with "Elements" and Cynic with the immense "Focus" folded in strong jazz/fusion influences, while as early as 1991 Suffocation debuted by putting technicality in the service of brutality, giving rise to yet another subgenre: brutal-death-metal). Nonetheless, Human would go on to hugely influence the movement's future development, perhaps more than any other record, thanks to its extraordinary qualities and character, which turned it into a cult object among extreme-metal listeners. But it isn't just Death's best work to date — it's also one of the greatest metal albums ever made, one that manages to cross the genre's borders and win praise well beyond it.

In the meantime, Schuldiner took part in the Voodoocult project, a supergroup blending well-known speed, thrash, death and groove-metal musicians (including Dave Lombardo of Slayer) in an unusual three-guitar lineup. The experiment didn't yield the hoped-for results, revealing a certain friction between these personalities and songs of uneven quality. Jesus Killing Machine is an album split in two: a first half full of interesting, engaging tracks, and a second half that's flatter and more monotonous. Schuldiner did not collaborate on it any further and refocused on his own music.

With Human as his foundation, Chuck was now in a state of grace, and in 1993 he recorded Individual Thought Patterns, with which he surpassed even himself. This time, thematically, the American began drawing on continental philosophy, and in particular on the writings of Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche. The themes explore the human soul, its most hidden emotions, the mind. The lyrics read like personal notes reflecting on oneself and the surrounding world, roared — or rather growled — over an extreme musical backdrop. The music becomes even more maximalist and furious compared to the previous album, because by then his friend Gene Hoglan had joined the band, a drummer whose technique and speed are unmatched, making heavy use of a relentless double-pedal attack that turns every track into a sonic avalanche.

The opening "Overactive Imagination" is already an almighty outburst, like an earthquake that immediately disorients the listener before giving way to sudden shifts in rhythm. The songs lose none of their cerebral quality — if anything, they gain more of it — and the influence of Atheist, Psychotic Waltz and Watchtower can be heard in the unspooling solos. For this reason, this time indirectly, Schuldiner also folds in a few subtle fusion touches within the technical passages; yet the melodic streak on display in those same parts also recalls Fates Warning. Second guitar duties go to Andy LaRocque (ex-King Diamond). Schuldiner wanted LaRocque to play the solos he had written, but LaRocque showed up at the studio unprepared and ended up improvising some of them. Schuldiner wasn't particularly fond of that approach, but the flair on display impressed everyone, and so the solos were kept as they were.

Steve Di Giorgio then returned to the lineup, brought in at the last minute to record with his fretless bass, which lends the sound an even more alienating quality. His presence is massive and prominent, to the point that one could say, without exaggeration, that he alone carries the record, even though it's Schuldiner steering the ship. His playing stands out especially on the title track and on "Destiny", where he unleashes liquid runs that give the songs a lingering sense of psychosis. It isn't only his bass that sounds alienating — every sound on the record is sharp and hallucinatory. "Out Of Shell" is perhaps the most hypnotic and disorienting song, relying on corrosive sound effects rather than sheer heaviness, which quickly takes hold regardless. "Trapped In A Corner" is an outpouring of rage and anguish that towers over every other track thanks to its power and precision.

The record's great blessing and curse alike is "The Philosopher", an utterly gripping track in its execution, driven by masterful tapping, though far less convincing lyrically. It apparently contains a reference to the pedophilia scandals within the Catholic Church, a subject deeply felt in particular in the United States, here generalized into an attack on every Catholic, portrayed as weak and contemptible. A sweeping anti-religious critique that ultimately comes across as banal and clichéd. Over the years, though, a second reading has emerged, according to which the song's real target would be Paul Masvidal, the leader of Cynic, already hired for Human. Nicknamed "the philosopher" on the Florida scene for his literary interests and the tone of the lyrics on his band's "Focus", Masvidal had recently broken off personal ties with Schuldiner and is also gay: under this reading, the lyric's reference to a predilection for young boys would become a vile homophobic accusation, arguably the darkest stain on Schuldiner's career. This final falling-out is the heaviest of the American's career, and it would never be fully resolved.

Beyond death metal

The answer cannot be found

In the writing of others

Or the words of a trained mind

In a precious world of memories

⟦Q1⟧

By 1995, ten years had passed since "Seven Churches", and a lot of water had flowed under the bridge. Death metal was no longer represented solely by its technical, progressive wing (or by its more brutal one), but also by a melodic, even radio-friendly strand, drawing to varying degrees on the heavy metal of Iron Maiden and Judas Priest, on the original thrash of Metallica, and on that of Slayer, all reworked to combine catchier passages with more aggressive ones, held together by the growl. Records like "Heartwork" (1993) by England's Carcass, "Lunar Strain" (1994) by Sweden's In Flames, or "Slaughter Of The Soul" (1995) by Sweden's At The Gates forged, step by step, yet another strand of the genre, one destined to become relatively significant commercially too. Symbolic came out in this context, and that is significant in light of both the affinities and the differences it shares with those records.

The album is Death’s sixth, and upon release it stunned everyone with the change it revealed. Perhaps even Schuldiner himself was impressed by what he had created, to the point of convincing himself to push even further in the future.

Let’s start with the similarities: there had never been a Death album so schematic and song-oriented, with so much emphasis placed on choruses, with riffs so sharply defined, catchy solos and such a crisp, clean production. The compositions are slower and, above all, far more accessible than in the past. In that sense, Symbolic is indeed a death-metal album, but a “melodic” one.

Now the differences: the compositional style has nothing to do with the Swedish school, and not merely because of the absence of decisive Maiden-esque, Priest-esque or Slayer-esque influences (bands to which Schuldiner in any case didn’t want to be compared). The riffing remains rooted in the American school, albeit rendered neater and more direct. The choruses, so prominent here, aren’t actually that functional to the melody, which is more guitar-driven; in fact, part of Schuldiner’s genius lies in elegantly transforming what are essentially growled, otherwise anti-radio motifs into choruses. In that sense, Symbolic is not at all a “melodic death metal” record, a term that by now identifies a specific, recognizable style among the many bands representing it, rather than simply a compositional tendency. Symbolic has a style all its own.

Although the songs are less intricate than those on Individual Thought Patterns, and decidedly less unsettling and hallucinatory, the riffs are among the most memorable Schuldiner ever wrote, as are the solos. His lead technique had by now evolved into a truly unique and instantly recognizable style, with very fast fingering alternated with sustained notes and extensive use of techniques like bending, sliding and glissando, which at times make the guitar strings seem to weep. But his main predilection remained tapping, ever-present and distinctive. No one else in the entire metal scene plays this way, with his particular taste and touch; partly thanks to this, Death manage to win over a wider, more general audience. The melodic sensibility proves surprisingly dynamic and fresh, revealing a renewed and original Schuldiner. The songs are standout pieces that, within Death’s catalogue, also serve as excellent calling cards for listeners unfamiliar with extreme music: the blistering title track, the dark “Empty Words”, the moving, epic “Without Judgement” are among the finest songs Schuldiner ever wrote.

The rest of the songs are also first-rate: “Misanthrope” is blisteringly fast and furious, yet capable of caustic midtempo breaks; “Crystal Mountain” is chilling and unsettling; “Perennial Quest” is, finally, a tragic journey that closes with a moving acoustic coda. The vocals have changed, turning sharp and piercing this time, no longer the growl but rather a kind of scream intoning deep, profound lyrics.

Symbolic is a tremendous album, even if not as groundbreaking as its predecessor. Gene Hoglan is retained on drums, keeping his devastating touch while never looking out of place even on the more accessible tracks. On bass, Schuldiner wanted Di Giorgio back, but he was tied up with other commitments, so the nonetheless excellent Kelly Conlon was brought in, albeit with a less personal, distinctive style. Second guitar, meanwhile, went to Bobby Koelble, a musician unknown in the metal world, schooled instead in hard & heavy, blues and jazz (which he also teaches). Schuldiner saw him as a solid foil for what he intended to compose.

What follows is the start of a series of decisive changes. Schuldiner is no longer especially interested in the death-metal scene and wants to move in a different direction. He thus decides to set Death aside and forms Control Denied, through which to give his music a new, more technical and virtuosic stamp.

He writes several long, complex songs in a single burst, but once faced with the finished material, he realizes the harsh sounds and the dark atmospheres that result are still too close to what he’d done before, and chooses to use the Death moniker one last time.

Thus in 1998 came The Sound Of Perseverance, which again sounds different from its predecessor. It could be defined as a progressive-death-metal record driven by virtuosity, and unlike Symbolic, built on multifacetedness rather than song-form. The result is magnificent, even with some unevenness in the balance between the various instrumental parts, which seem to go their own way at times. The drummer this time is Richard Christy, an extremely talented youngster who differs from Hoglan in having a fuller, more full-bodied drum sound, rather than crisp and “avalanche”-like. Together with the guitars, he forms some truly formidable instrumental dialogues.

The quality of the songs is supreme: “Scavenger Of Human Sorrow”, “Flesh And The Power It Holds”, “Story To Tell” are just some of the lessons in style that Schuldiner delivers to the technical-death scene, combining technicality—never so prominently displayed—with a taste for gripping, catchy riffs. If there were a manual teaching how to viscerally combine melody, rage and complexity, his picture would be on the cover. The album’s masterpiece, however, is the brief instrumental piece for acoustic guitar and double electric guitar, “Voice Of The Soul”, which enchants with its atmospheres and moves listeners with the weeping sound the distortion’s feedback screams through the amplifier.

At the end of the record there’s also a cover of “Painkiller”, the legendary, immensely powerful Judas Priest track, but it sounds too chaotic and overloaded compared with the original, and Chuck Schuldiner’s screams lack the effectiveness and charisma of Rob Halford’s high notes. It’s just a minor flaw at the end of a memorable album that remains, to this day, one of Death’s most listened-to records, and which, with hindsight, many consider to be Chuck Schuldiner’s musical testament—the equal balance between the different tendencies that had accompanied him throughout his career up to that point.

In 1999 the Control Denied project could finally debut with The Fragile Art Of Existance. Schuldiner focuses on guitar and hands the microphone to Tim Aymar, whose powerful voice he admires, capable of rough, charismatic high notes: to him, Aymar is an exceptional singer who displays exactly that clean vocal repertoire Schuldiner wished he could express but didn’t possess. The compositions are very similar in structure to those of The Sound Of Perseverance, but with less oppressive atmospheres, and with more room for virtuosic dialogue between the instruments. The riffing draws closer to the American power-metal current (Metal Church, early Savatage, Jag Panzer), which differs from the style known in Europe through its much darker, harder sound, with midtempo sections and greater influence from heavy metal than from speed metal.

This is not a revolutionary work and the songwriting is uneven. But the result is multifaceted, driven by a palpable desire for renewal, in which the final incarnation of Death sits at the crossroads between Coroner, Nevermore, Metal Church and Psychotic Waltz. That makes it interesting even when not entirely convincing, and hints at future developments that would be sharper and better digested.

The opening “Consumed” is a dark but biting track, driven by sharp guitars that flow into a bleak solo. “Breaking The Broken”, more seductive, alternates irresistible, placid bass phrasing—courtesy of the returning Steve Di Giorgio (whose touch is unmistakable throughout)—with sudden power-metal riffs, with a poetically hallucinatory solo acting as the link. “Expect The Unexpected” has a gripping chorus grafted onto an impressive, intense instrumental tangle, though built on a prog structure.

“When The Link Becomes Missing” displays a palpable melancholy in its acoustic and electric guitar sequences. This then gives way to the gritty emotional pull of “Believe”, which also boasts the album’s only death-metal riffs. Finally, the title track rounds things off—the icing on the cake of an album that isn’t a masterpiece but is, on the whole, enjoyable and promising for the future.

You can tell Schuldiner had plenty more to say, and that he actually wanted to push even further. Unfortunately, though, he would not be able to continue down this new path, as in 1999 he was diagnosed with a terrible brain tumor. At first he seemed to be beating it thanks to treatment, to the point that he began writing the second Control Denied album and recorded the first demos. But then came a relapse from which he never recovered, despite efforts to help him by raising funds for his care, spearheaded by musicians as different from one another as Dave Grohl and Ozzy Osbourne. Schuldiner died on December 13, 2001. His passing left the entire extreme metal scene in mourning, and beyond. Condolences poured in from Morbid Angel as well as System of a Down, proof of how far his influence as a guitarist and composer reached beyond death metal.

We were set free

what is to be?

Thanks to Emanuele Pavia and Antonio Silvestri for the review and contributions.

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