Endrah comes from the Hindu word "Indra", the God of War and Weather. He is "the one who rides clouds" and is given vantage point to see the inner workings of the world as a cohesive whole. He is the one who raised the skies ever-higher for humankind and released from her captivity in darkness Ushas, the dawn, allowing the light of wisdom and thought to crest upon the horizon of these lands. And like its Vedic ancestor, the reincarnated "Endrah" has come to embody both the "weathering of the storm", evident in their unshakeable integrity and confidence in their identity, and as "wagers of war"; seeing the world for, at the very least, what it is not, and setting forth to break the powers that be with awareness and raw feeling and thought. The Hindu "daeva" has returned to reclaim what was lost and muddied.
The quartet's lyrics are hardened with their inner-city New York rap influences taken from Billy Graziadei's Biohazard roots, which works in a much more satisfying; droning; slithering and piercing growl-like scream than the bullet-without-a-clear-target, hit-anything-that-moves attitude of bands like Five Finger Death Punch. The messages are clear, direct and contain absolutely zero distillation. They are in your face and urgent, but also focused and with patient form, using the eye-for-an-eye idiom to wake people from their sugar-coated slumbers of self-delusion and see the issues that exist. In a time when so many bands are all angst and no direction, Endrah has clearly mastered the rage within, granting them command over this power so that the second they pick up their guitars and beat their drums, every reverberation of sound has a concrete destination.
Rapid-fire bursts of tempo changes on tracks such as "Silver Tongue" stand out so profoundly that their lingering effect can still be felt rolling across the cerebrum long after they have passed, the mind processing this unexpected departure from the norm. Moments of crushing thrash, reminiscent of heavier Echoes of Eternity, spew forth in flashes on the opening track; and all throughout, almost melodic death-metal rhythms grace the moments between traditional metalcore pummelling, such as the Dethklok-esque "Salvation and Serenity". Other standout moments include the semi-echoed lyrics spoken near the beginning of "The Palace is Smashed", which also introduces some doomy bass tones for a change of pace; the resonating "All Shores are at Risk", for its distinct global acknowledgement; and the overall diverse closer, "They Want to Kill Us All". What pleased me the most was the uncustomary attention to percussions for this particular subgenre. At times black, others tangentially tribal, Endrah never forgets to use varied techniques and elements, and often provides brief windows of what would otherwise be a few seconds of silence with maybe some distant bass to sneak in rolling drum pseduo-solos, a device used sparingly with guitar on tracks such as "Incorruptible". This seems to be the quartet's trademark in a broader sense, as in their insertion of obvious and fleeting deviations, and it works to flawless success, bringing to the music something unique, without ever feeling congested or short-lived.
A solid album to throw on if you're just wanting to get pumped up and feel the rage, "The Culling" is also a "calling" to humankind and offers substance with hidden surprises along the way should you choose to sit down and fully absorb the heart and talent behind this hard-hitting and visceral, yet mature and seasoned effort.
I welcome you to disagree.