Shisma’s It All Depends: A Belgian Metal Gem That Still Kicks (1989)
Alright, buckle up because we’re diving into It All Depends, the 1989 debut album by Shisma—a band that somehow managed to squeeze progressive metal and heavy metal into one gloriously chaotic package. Hailing from Belgium (yes, the land of waffles and beer also does killer riffs), this record came out on their own dime via Not On Label. No big corporate machine here—just raw talent and a DIY attitude.
First things first: let’s talk lineup. You’ve got Dirk Budeners and Patrick Verdoodt shredding guitars like they’re trying to summon demons, Jos Loyens pounding drums harder than your neighbor during a house party, Eric Troquet laying down some seriously groovy basslines, and Peter Jacobs belting vocals with enough grit to sandblast paint off a car. It’s not perfect, but it’s real—and sometimes “real” hits harder than polished studio magic.
Now, onto the tracks. While every song has its charm, two really stuck in my brain: “Unchain My Brain” and “Helpless.”
“Unchain My Brain” kicks off like someone dropped an anvil on the accelerator pedal. The opening riff grabs you by the collar and doesn’t let go until you’re headbanging so hard you might need chiropractic care later. What makes this track unforgettable is how it juggles complexity without losing its soul. Progressive twists? Check. Heavy-as-hell breakdowns? Double check. And just when you think it can’t get crazier, Jacobs’ vocals soar over the chaos like a fighter jet doing barrel rolls. This isn’t background music—it demands your attention.
Then there’s “Helpless,” which flips the vibe entirely. If “Unchain My Brain” is a runaway freight train, “Helpless” is more like sitting alone in a dark room after a breakup. The tempo slows down, letting the emotional weight sink in. Budeners and Verdoodt weave haunting guitar melodies while Troquet’s bass hums beneath like a heartbeat. By the time Jacobs starts singing about feeling powerless, you’re right there with him, drowning in existential dread—but hey, at least the soundtrack’s good, right?
The production quality? Meh. Let’s call it “charmingly lo-fi.” But honestly, that rough edge works for them. It adds authenticity—you know these guys weren’t sweating perfection; they were sweating passion. And passion is what sticks with you long after the last note fades.
So why does It All Depends still matter today? Maybe it’s because it reminds us that great music doesn’t always come wrapped in shiny packaging. Sometimes it shows up uninvited, wearing ripped jeans and smelling faintly of cigarette smoke, ready to kick your door down and rearrange your furniture. Or maybe it’s just proof that even in 1989, Belgium could throw down with the best of ‘em.
Final thought: Listening to Shisma feels like finding a hidden treasure chest buried under decades of dirt. Sure, it’s a little banged up, but inside? Pure gold. Now if only they’d release a remastered version… or maybe just another album entirely. Call me greedy, but once you’ve had a taste of Shisma, you’ll want seconds.
