Cynic was one of the many great bands signed unto Roadrunner Records in the early 90s, grinding their way from obscurity alongside the likes of Believer, Solitude Aeturnus, Solus et al. So why is this significant? The aforementioned acts were subsequently (and unceremoniously) forsaken as the label stumbled over itself to capitalize on hardcore's growing popularity. But whatever the factors involved in the band's demise, one thing is certain: metal will surely never know a band like Cynic again. To call this act 'technical' would be a cruel understatement; Focus sounds like three Dream Theater discs playing simultaneously, if John Petrucci had six arms and a four-neck guitar (okay that's not entirely fair - Cynic have TWO guitars). There are polyrhythms and time-changes shooting about everywhere, stabilized by a healthy jazz/fusion influence and an obvious understanding on how to blend these clashing styles into a coherent intellectual trip even the musical layman can appreciate. The vocals alternate between death, female, clean male, and processed Max Headroom/Transformers 'more than meets the eye' synths that are unique to my ears. But the entire experience is almost unfathomable, really. I mean, I doubt any level headed human can assimilate all the ingredients of Focus in their entire friggin' lives, let alone the five years since its release. No, of course it doesn't hold much appeal in today's stone-cold musical climate, but you'd do well in hearing this. Better have your thinking cap on, though.

Review by Lee Steadham

Review date: 11/1998

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