Record #899: Converge – You Fail Me Redux (2004/2016)

I’ve been carrying a shameful secret: I’ve never gotten into Converge.

Barring Bloodmoonif you count that as a Converge album (I don’t), I’ve spent precious little time with the legendary metalcore band’s catalog. However, this is entirely due to the economics of Converge vinyl, most of which sell for well over $50. It’s been far more affordable for me to just ignore them.

But recently while browsing, I spied a cheap copy of You Fail Me Redux, a remixed version of their 2004 record. I dropped the cash on reputation alone, and it’s been worth every penny.

Even if you don’t know Converge, you’re likely aware of Jane Doe, universally regarded as their magnum opus and one of the greatest heavy records of all time. That record marked a huge shift both in Converge’s songwriting and their reputation.

But how do you follow a masterpiece?  If you’re Converge, the answer is to abandon all restraint and give into your basest sonic instincts. You Fail Me is as straightforward and abrasive as metalcore gets. Discordant bursts of guitar fill in the space between chaotic drum patterns, Jacob Bannon’s vocals shifting between a hardcore bark, shrill shrieks, and near-death metal growls. The songs tear through their steps with reckless abandon, often starting before the previous track has a chance to fade out.

Most of the tracks barely make it past the two-minute mark, the explosive riffs burning so hot that they can’t be sustained for much longer. There are a few notable exceptions, such as the monstrous title track and the dark acoustic-driven ballad “In Her Shadow,” which with a runtime of six-and-half minutes offers a much-needed breather between mosh-heavy sets.

According to the band, they were never happy with the final mix of the original You Fail Me. The Redux version of the album attempts to rectify this with a fresh mix by guitarist Kurt Ballou, who has engineered and mixed every record since (as well as Cave In’s Heavy Pendulum). Being unfamiliar with the original mix, I can’t speak to the comparison, but I can tell you that the mix on Redux is positively blistering. The low end is thick without being muddy. The guitars sound as muscular as guitars can sound without dulling the brightness of overtones. As dense as the mix gets, Jacob Bannon’s voice cuts through with clarity to hear every rage-filled syllable. Also of note is the outtake “Wolves At My Door,” originally a vinyl-only bonus track that might be my favorite track on the disk.

In my attempts to familiarize myself with this record, I’ve seen a number of people call it their favorite record in Converge’s formidable discography. And considering the juxtaposition to Jane Doe that is forever placed against it, that’s no small feat. And moreover, for someone whose exposure to metalcore has come mostly through bands like Zao, Norma Jean, and the Chariot, Converge’s take on the oft-maligned genre is a fresh perspective. For me, it is a satisfyingly violent introduction to one of the biggest blind spots in my musical knowledge—and this is just the first step.