Well, there once was a time when a question like that would’ve been met with a resounding hells yes, but as of late, the almighty Meshuggah has effectively “dumbed-down” its proto-prog-a-licious, heavily syncopated sound into something a bit more palatable, something that your younger brother’s dorky best friend can even get behind (when he’s through marveling at how bloody awesome “Achilles Last Stand” is).

Yes, it’s true — on Meshuggah’s latest album, ObZen (released in the U.S. today), the band has crafted a significantly more accessible (in a good way) sound. Rest assured, none of the staccato, asymmetrical profundity is gone, but the tunes seem constructed in a way that your hippest grandma could possibly get down to. I mean — don’t get me wrong; this aforementioned grandma would have to be a serious motherfucker in order to even enter the room that ObZen is playing in (let alone give the inevitable mosh pit a good go), but goddamn — if she’s got the proverbial ballz to be down, then let that bitch rrrrockit, nawmean?!?

Speaking of which, I’ve cleared many a room in my day, for many a reason, but my favorite experience as such by far was when I threw Meshuggah’s Nothing on my iPod at a party, and softies done been fleein’ like it was their muthafuckin’ jizznobbz!! To tout my old friend E. Chapman (allbeit talking about a completely different medium but who the fuck cares), “If you’re affecting them in some way — good or bad — you’ve done your job as an artist.” Truly. Dude was in the right headspace for influencing minds, and that is undoubtedly what Meshuggah has done extremely well over their 21 year career.

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(In preparation for Tuesday’s release of *ObZen*, the new album by Meshuggah, the following is a repost of one of the first pieces that yours-motherfuckin-truly ever wrote for MetalSucks — yay.)

Ahhh, alliteration… awesome, aye asshole? All literary snickers aside, this band is an absolute MUST for any serious metalhead, especially those folks who have more progressive leanings…but don’t go thinkin this is gonna be a walk in the park–getting into Meshuggah can be quite a demanding process for many, myself included.

The first few times I listened to Meshuggah (which incidentally means crazy in Hebrew), I walked away feeling more than just slightly ill; something about the stark, staccato, rhythmically assymmetrical (yet surprisingly largely in 4/4) sound made me noticeably queasy. As we have recently learned from the esteemed Rabbi Vincent X. Neilshteinawitz, vomit is occasionally induced by the sickest of bands (after VN’s infamous run-in with Blackwater Park in my Brooklyn apartment a couple weeks ago, my porcelain palace of puke will never be the same), and my first few experiences with Meshuggah were pretty similar. Except even without the dark demon whiskey lurking in my belly, I still felt nautious after a few songs. Then I grew a goddamn pair, and my musical bar for the tightest, proggiest (in a good way), and most syncopated metal was raised once again.

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