Kylesa

Savannah behemoth Kylesa takes its name from the Buddhist term kilesa, meaning defilement or poison, specifically those that cloud a mental state. I’m not sure how “poisonous” Kylesa’s music is, but it is certainly potent and mind-altering. 

A hefty quintent boasting two drummers (Eric Hernandez and Carl McGinley), plus dual singer-guitarists Phillip Cope and Laura Pleasants, and bassist Javier Villegas, Kylesa builds a powerful presence. But rather than levy its size as a blunt instrument, swinging harder but delivering nothing substantial, Kylesa wields a heavy blade able to spear, slice or bludgeon at will. Their latest recording, 2009’s acclaimed Static Tensions, marked a personal best for the band and showcased the versatility it brings. From the pensive, swamp-gas psychedelia of “Running Red,” to the hulking riffage that builds “Insomnia For Months,” to the conversing, polyrhythmic drumming that opens “Scapegoat,” Kylesa refuses to paint itself into a corner. It can be fast and nimble, or it can trudge with a sludge-laden mass. It can be spacious and atmospheric, or dense and claustrophobic. 

It’s easy to compare Kylesa to its regional peers in Mastodon and Baroness, and not altogether useless, either. But as similar as those bands can be, the differentiators are telling. Kylesa hoists none of Mastodon’s prog-tendency, none of its self-indulgent expanse. Where Baroness favors excursions into the blues and classic rock bombast, Kylesa lives for headbanging. Of Georgia’s three biggest and best metal bands, Kylesa is the leanest and most direct. 

That doesn’t mean Kylesa is some kind of poor-man’s Mastodon. It means that Kylesa’s most liable to appeal to the gut before the strategy and intellect behind their songs becomes apparent. It’s about reaching the core of emotions and excitement. There’s no need to match Melville to blastbeats when the point is to stir up a circle pit. —Bryan Reed