Roadrunner Records – 2020
Quick note – this is an adaptation of a video review I did back in March, when both this album and COVID-19 made their debuts. The circumstances ended up making the record even more important than it already was, so I decided to convert it to text, spruce it up a bit, and repost.
Right when the pandemic hit American soil, so did Code Orange’s fourth studio album, Underneath. I was visiting my brother at our parents’ home in Frisco, TX in mid-March 2020, and while the news prattled on about the end of the world, my brother and I were buried deep in Code Orange’s even more accurately grim predictions of the months to come. Underneath, as best I can tell, tells a story of a twisted reality, emotional disconnect, and distorted ethical standard caused by over-immersion in a digital world.
If you haven’t had time to check this album out, let me warn you that it’s a pretty noticeable departure from the more organic hardcore sound that some fans know Code Orange for. If you’ve been following them closely, though, Underneath’s heavily produced and digitally nuanced sound shouldn’t take you by surprise. More importantly, that sound is what gives Underneath its storytelling power.
Don’t misunderstand – Underneath is still decidedly centered around the metalcore elements you are used to from Code Orange. I would warn you, though, that if you aren’t ready for Underneath’s exploration of studio possibilities and outside-the-metalcore-box storytelling vocabulary, Underneath might be somewhat off-putting. I will admit that sections of it stress me out.
Sonically, Underneath is a challenge. Marked with jarring riffs, glitches, and vocal effects, Underneath draws a line in the sand – listen closely or turn it off. I kept having to back up and make sure my computer wasn’t malfunctioning during playback. I will save you the time – it really does sound like that.
Underneath borrows from more genres than we’ve used to hearing in a Code Orange album. Besides metalcore with hardcore roots, you will hear clear elements from EDM, industrial metal, grunge and alternative rock, and trip-hop, among others. I also want to point out just how much Reba sounds like Shirley Manson in some of her more melodic moments, which could not possibly be less of a problem for me (Somebody listen to the title track “Underneath” and tell me I’m right).
Arrangements, on a technical level, are about as sophisticated as metalcore gets. Besides having to fit in all the bleeps, creeps, and sweeps, this album frees up vocalist Jami Meyers from behind the drum kit. He is still credited for performing drums in the studio, but this time he didn’t have to write parts with performance in mind.
Moving forward from the record itself, Code Orange was on the front lines of live streaming music performance. Taking to twitch and Instagram early in the developmental stages of COVID-era live shows, Code Orange seemed nearly unfazed by the world’s “new normal.” Having only digital access to the band during the time when they were promoting an album about the pitfalls of a digital age provided fans with an incomparably poignant and meaningful irony.
Someone needs to tell Code Orange that art is supposed to reflect culture, not the other way around. The frantic, pensive, uncertainty that swept the world was told fully by an album that was recorded fully before the Apocalypse. If you haven’t gotten around to hearing anything from Underneath yet, I highly recommend giving it a spin and seeing if anything you hear sounds eerily familiar.
Our Score: 8/10
-Reach James, the author of this review, at JamesUnderFire@gmail.com