Album Reviews

[binnie]

From the vaults: Anthrax – State of Euphoria (1988)

Album number 4 from the runt of the litter of ‘The Big 4’ saw Anthrax coming off a brace of thrash metal classics – 1985’s ‘Spreading the Disease’ and 1987’s ‘Among the Living’ – brimming with confidence but eager not to rest on their laurels. Indeed, there was a conscious effort here to develop, an effort which must be commended. The flaw was that the band couldn’t decide which way that development should go and tried to balance more straight-forward heavy metal tunes with forays into the realms of progressive thrash steered by Metallica’s ‘Master of Puppets’. The result of that confusion is a record full of songs which stand well on their own, but which don’t necessarily gell together into an album.

Despite this, however, ‘State of Euphoria’ has been unduly written out of metal history. Listening to it 23 years later, you’re surprised by its power and ambition. Indeed, we must remember that Megadeth’s record of the same year – ‘So Far, So Good, So What’ – was a far less complicated and ambitious affair. Opening with a cello, ‘Be All, End All’ is the strongest tune here and saw Anthrax mingle their speed metal chops with Sabbath power and atmospherics into something altogether darker than on previous releases. The equally epic ‘Who Cares Wins’ is equally powerful: although lyrically it is a rather clumsy attempt at social commentary, the music is as heavy as it comes and features a tumultuous mid-section and soaring solo which is, well…..euphoric! ‘Make Me Laugh’ – a rather trite take on the passé subject of TV evangelism – is equally a lost mosh-tastic classic built around a characteristically punchy riff and Bellandonna wail. This is vintage ‘thrax, rather than ‘thrax by numbers. And, of course, we have Trust cover ‘Anti-Social’. Oddly out-of-place amidst the more sprawling pieces, it’s punk-esque ethos does get to the heart of what separated Anthrax from their thrash peers: inviting the listener to participate, it is anthemic in a way that most speed metal couldn’t be.

But then we’re presented with some attempts at more conventional metal which feel like strangers here. ‘Misery Loves Company’ and ‘Schism’ are not ‘filler’, but they do dilute the whole. ‘Out of Sight, Out of Mind’ blended punk and metal very closely, if not convincingly, in a style which would soon be perfected by Suicidal Tendencies. And it’s here that – for all the bravery of Anthrax’s attempts at growth – you realize that they were floundering rather than sprawling. ‘Now It’s Dark’, for example, has one of the strongest hooks they ever wrote and screams ‘single’: but a ‘single’ to what? This album? It’s too distinct from the more progressive, mid-tempo thrash that the band was aiming for.

Ultimately, what we have is a B- album with some A+ tracks. Anthrax would get the progression right two years later in Bellandona’s swansong ,‘The Persistence of Time’: a much darker, heavier and powerful record packed with compositional maturity which they didn’t quite nail here. But writing ‘State of Euphoria’ out of its rightful place in metal history is a mistake. It was Anthrax – not Megadeth or Annihilator – who followed Metallica’s lead to make thrash more than just a speed contest. In that sense, then, ‘State of Euphoria’ has some nobility in its missing of the mark.

[hotsummerknight]

From the vaults: Anthrax – State of Euphoria (1988)

Album number 4 ...

Excellent review. This brings back some memories ... been a while since I listened to this album. Just put it on and it still sounds good. To me, this is the last of the good Anthrax albums, third best to Among the Living and Spreading the Disease. Fistful of Metal is also an underrated classic that I'd rate even with Euphoria. Anyways, I disagree that P.O.T. was the best of the Belladonna era. Everything Anthrax has done after Euphoria was simply atrocious. I think that P.O.T. is complete shit, but then again I think Balance is VH's masterpiece second to Fair Warning so my opinion means nothing on this board.

You pretty much nailed what I've always thought of Anthrax in comparison to what Metallica was doing at the time but not too long after this, all of these guys - Metallica, Megadeth, Anthrax, etc - all struggled with identity issues and the whole genre turned to complete shit. If these bands kept their directions intact around this time period, there would have likely been a few more gems produced until grunge took over the music landscape from quite a few of these bands.

I've been reading your reviews on here, great stuff. Looking forwards to more.

[binnie]

Slaves To Gravity – Underwaterouterspace

Is it metal? Is it post-grunge? No: it’s a bloody good rock band, plain and simple. Well, not quite plain and simple. These boys are deceptive. Despite the huge hooks and catchy choruses, this is not straight forward ‘pop’ album: they cram a lot of music into 3 minutes, in a sound that is both slick and thick. That sound – full, gutsy and, in places, huge – can be credited to producer-extraordinaire Bob Marlette, who has done much to whip the fat out of these songs to make them tighter, beefier and incessantly hook-laden.

Moving on from the rather more raw sound on the excellent debut ‘Scatter the Crow’, Slaves To Gravity have clearly made a conscious decision to aim for a wider market. There’s no problem with that, as they’re still doing it with great tunes. ‘Honesty’ sounds almost like a more muscular Kings of Leon or The Killers and possess the sort of bounciness and swirling melody guitar lines you might expect from the more mainstream rock bands doing the rounds in 2011. ‘Silence Now’ is also the sort of ballad that wouldn’t be out of place on MTV. With these kinds of songs in their arsenal, they deserve our attention. ‘She’s Got Big Plans’ similarly offsets its hard rock foundations with a little U2 quirkiness and Manic Street Preachers pop-punkery, and does so to a glorious sonorous effect. These are the kinds of songs many bands would love to write – not light-weight, but not aggressively heavy for its own sake, either. That’s not to say that there’s no bite here. ‘Dumb’ sounds like a latter-day Stone Temple Pilots tune (and is better than anything on their last record), whilst ‘Lily Liver’ and ‘Last Ignition’ possess a grungy crunch in their riffage, and ‘Misery Pills’ collapse bollock-heavy bluesy guitars into ambient interludes. That a young band has absorbed so much of rock history and are capable of processing it in 4 minute songs is quite an achievement.

But, for all of that talent, there’s something stopping the elevator getting to the top floor. These songs are beautifully written, but perhaps a little over crafted: calculated or contrived is too far, but they don’t invite the listen in, they don’t make you feel as much as they would with a few rough edges and a little rawness. It’s only on closer – the under-stated and heartfelt – ‘This Time It’s Terminal’ that we really see the elite league in Slave To Gravity’s view.

[binnie]

Excellent review. This brings back some memories ... been a while since I listened to this album. Just put it on and it still sounds good. To me, this is the last of the good Anthrax albums, third best to Among the Living and Spreading the Disease. Fistful of Metal is also an underrated classic that I'd rate even with Euphoria. Anyways, I disagree that P.O.T. was the best of the Belladonna era. Everything Anthrax has done after Euphoria was simply atrocious. I think that P.O.T. is complete shit, but then again I think Balance is VH's masterpiece second to Fair Warning so my opinion means nothing on this board.

You pretty much nailed what I've always thought of Anthrax in comparison to what Metallica was doing at the time but not too long after this, all of these guys - Metallica, Megadeth, Anthrax, etc - all struggled with identity issues and the whole genre turned to complete shit. If these bands kept their directions intact around this time period, there would have likely been a few more gems produced until grunge took over the music landscape from quite a few of these bands.

I've been reading your reviews on here, great stuff. Looking forwards to more.

Cheers man. Glad you like 'em. There's somewhere between 100-150 now, so plenty to get through!

Glad I've found someone who thinks that 'State....' is underrated. To clarify: I do think that 'Persistence...' is a more complete realization of the progression of the sound they were striving for on 'State...' but I don't think it's the best of the Bellandona era. I'd have to say that's a toss up between 'Spreading the Disease' and 'Among The Living' both of which are sensational.

That being said, I actually like Anthrax as they darkened their sound a little. To my ears their first record with John Bush 'Sound of the White Noise' is the best record they ever made and showed where thrash might have gone in the '90s if it hadn't died. I except that I'm in the minority in prefering Bush over Belladonna, but to me his raspier and deeper voice fitted their punchy, pit-bull stlye of riffing better than Bellandonna's wail. The record they made recording Bellandonna-era tunes with Bush - 'The Greater of Two Evils' - demonstrates that I think. As for 'Sound of The White Noise' (which I reviewed in here), 'Only', 'Room For One More', 'Potters Field' just great, great tunes. And REALLY heavy.

I think you're alone in hailing 'Balance' as a masterpiece, but each their own. If you hear something I don't, that's great for you.

[hotsummerknight]

I can see what you mean on P.O.T., never thought of what they were doing on that album in that way. It makes sense.

Even thought it's with Bush, I do enjoy the Greater of Two Evils as a refreshing take on the songs I used to bang my head to 20+ years ago. I just cant get into any of the material they wrote with Bush. I like your taste though, so I'll give White Noise another listen ... its been a long time since I heard that one.

[binnie]

From the vaults: In Flames – Clayman (2000)

This record harks back to a time when Sweden’s In Flames were hailed as one of the bands whose updated brand of heaviness – steeped in European power-metal but served-up with a Motorhead level of testicle fortitude – was going to send Nu Metal running for the hills with its tail between its baggy-trouser wearing legs. That didn’t happen: Nu Metal died-of-death and In Flames have since continued to baffle their hardcore fanbase by making music which marches to the beat of their own – clumsy – drum.

But at the turn of the millennium THEY KICKED ASS. Simple as that. Opener ‘Bullet Ride’ is a case in point. Take a classic rock riff and smash it into thrash metal, douse the subsequent song in gothic melodies and play it like a Rhino whose just been kicked in the nuts. The result is something of an update on a timeless recipe: HEAVY FUCKING METAL. Bjorn Gelotte and Jesper Strombled are axemen-extraordinaire, but as a team they are far more than the sum of their parts, laying down epic riffage, sonorous melodies and soaring solos with aplomb. This record also dates to the point before Andes Faiden believed that he could sing, and his growling delivery here is not quite death metal, but angry enough to take the songs up a notch.

What made In Flames so good, however, was their understanding that an album is more than just 10 good songs. It needs variety to work, especially in a genre as easy to make generic as thrash metal. Consequently, they pepper this record with variation. ‘Pinball Map’ riots along with an epic gallop into a punch-the-air chorus. ‘Another Day In Quicksand’ has some sharp and crisp hooks, ‘….As The Future Repeats Today’ is built around some tasty stop-start rhythms, and ‘Square Nothing’ owes as much to Type O Negative and Nine Inch Nails as it does Maiden. And it is that variety that makes an album this dark and this heavy a cut above the rest. Keeping the listener on their toes, it compels them to enter In Flames’s world.

It could be argued that In Flames have never made a signature album, ‘Clayman’ is not perfect by any means. Slightly over-long, the ‘edit’ button would have improved the whole. ‘Brush & Dust Away’, ‘Satellites and Astronauts’ and ‘Lesser’ are all wonderful slabs of metal assault, but losing one or two of them might have made this a more rounded affair. You’ll probably be too busy headbanging to notice though……

[binnie]

From the vaults: Black Sabbath – Technical Ecstasy (1976)

The title says it all: this was the sound of a band experimenting, a band embracing technology and change in order to push forward. And as so often happens in rock ‘n’ roll, change confounds the expectation of fans, leaving the reputation of a record marred by disappointment. Album number 7 from Ozzy-era Sabbath is often lumped in with its successor – 1978’s ‘Never Say Die’ – as the mark of a band in terminal decline. But just because we know Ozzy was fired/jumped ship in the subsequent years, we shouldn’t assume that the changing direction here was the sound of a band in its death throes.

Far from it, in fact. There was plenty of life in Sabbath here, who consciously dabbled in more progressive arrangements and structures – not to mentions synths and keyboards – which bands like Queen and Yes had incorporated so effectively during the same period. As such, ‘Technical Ecstasy’ is in many respects the outgrowth of the more expansive and colourful sound which the band had begun to adopt with ‘Sabbath Bloody Sabbath’ and ‘Sabotage’. That it was certainly a long way from the first 4 records – hailed by many, quite rightly, as sacrosanct in the history of metal – should not blinker our ears to its qualities. No longer was the pummeling, ungodly heaviness of Tony Iommi’s guitar the driving force of the band, and no longer was the vibe dour, dark and melancholic. Sabbath was now a success, and it had changed their music, most noticeably in the lyrics: gone are the occult and warmongering, to be replaced with a more ‘up’ feel. It must be admitted that they lost something distinctive about their oeuvre in the process, and at times here bordered the realms of cheese and cliché.

There is much that rewards the listener here. ‘She’s Gone’ is easily the best ballad they ever penned. It’s haunting and dark beauty are driven by the contrast between Iommi’s delicate acoustic serenade and Ozzy’s wonderfully emotive vocal. By way of contrast, ‘Dirty Women’ – the album’s closer – is a behemoth of a song, and as close to vintage Sabbath as we get here. ‘You Won’t Change Me’ is a real lost classic. Built around arrangements which evoke Queen and The Who at their most expansive it feels like a more adventurous ‘Spiral Architect’ or ‘Killing Yourself To live’ (both from ‘Sabbath Bloody Sabbath’), and sees Ozzy’s subdued vocal offset by Iommi’s free-flowing and euphoric soloing over an arrangement in which organ and piano are prominent. Even ‘Gypsy’ – a rather trite tale of seduction into the dark arts – has its merits. Eschewing verse-chorus-verse structures in favour of something more free-form, the song swirls around multiple parts and features chunky riffs, soulful vocals and tribal beats. If it ultimately feels a little chaotic, such novelty must be viewed as a noble failure: this was a band with too many ideas, not one in lethargy.

The weaker tunes also reap dividends. ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll Doctor’ and ‘All Moving Pieces’ are solid slabs of hard rock delivered with gusto, and far from the undercooked turkeys which would clutter up ‘Never Say Die’. It’s only real the trite-poppery of the Bill Ward sung ‘It’s Alright’ – whose Merseybeat vibe was more in tune with 1966 than 1976 – that Sabbath approach the turgid. The layers of musical wankery that this piano led piece was buried in do little to detract from the fact that drummers should rarely sing. Ringo moments aside, however, ‘Technical Ecstasy’ is quite an album. It’s certainly not of the dinosaur-bollock heavy variety which they have become synonymous with; nor is it as dark, powerful and pervasively influential as those first four records – indeed, it might be said that in turning to synths and progressive arrangements for the first time in their careers Sabbath were following trends, rather than setting them. But it IS the sound of a band on fire, a band striving to escape its own legend and push into new eras with something to say. ‘Technical Ecstasy’ is no lost ‘classic’ – but it is an album which merits re-discovery.

[chefcraig]

Terrific point about Sabotage being the spring board for more experimentation. The track "Am I Going Insane (Radio)" is the start of the "Merseybeat" influence you brought up, and if you examine the song closely enough, it really turns out to be the great-lost Yardbirds single of 1965. No, I'm not kidding. Listen to the tune with your eyes closed (and ears open), and tell me it wouldn't fit in perfectly somewhere in between "Mister, You're A Better Man Than I" and "Over, Under, Sideways, Down".

[binnie]

From the vaults: Exodus – Bonded By Blood (1985)

‘Bang your head against the stage/ The Metal takes its price…..’

Silly? Perhaps. Moronic? Only for the uninitiated. The lyric sums up the ethos and aesthetic at work here: this was music which was about more than just entertainment, music that is felt, even, in some cases, lived, by the fans. It epitomized what thrash was all about: hunting down and killing the poseurs and tearing down the divide between band and fans as far as possible. Thrash bands were full of the everymen – they were us. In its early stages, there was a bond, a unity with their followers which the stars of sunset strip consciously rejected in favour of looking down from Mount Olympus. As a feeling, as a lifestyle, it compelled you to react: love or hate, mosh or leave. No compromise.

Exodus was a hugely influential band. Their early albums shaped metal – in all of its guises – in a way as profound of any of the ‘Big 4’. Indeed, in 1985 the distance between those bands and the Bay Area’s finest was not as gaping as it is 25 years later: although Megadeth and Metallica had both begun to weld their power to a maturity in composition which the others could never emulate, the difference between Exodus and Anthrax and Slayer was slim, and ‘Bonded By Blood’ is arguably superior to anything those bands had released by that point. Indeed the opening salvo of the title-track and ‘Exodus’ is a forceful and visceral as on any metal record ever recorded, bar none: and there’s no let up from there on. Context is everything. By this point in time, Ozzy was floundering creatively, Maiden had just peaked, Priest were about to rush off into a synth-led hell, and The Scorpions were prodding softer territories. The kids wanted their metal anthems – pure and unadulterated – and Exodus had ‘em and then some. ‘And Then There Were None’, ‘A Lesson In Violence’, ‘Piranha’ and the neck-snapping ‘Strike of the Beast’ were harder, heavier and more relentless, and existed of a real statement of intent, a glorious fist in the face to the old guard.

Picking out great riffs here is like picking out good looking girls at a fashion show: they’re everywhere. The listener is owned by the mid-range crunch – the hypnotic effect of relentless staccato-riffing at full tilt – and compelled to headbang, to lose it, to receive their lesson in violence. Exodus, like the other thrash bands, had taken the European formula for heavy metal – clever time changes, twin guitar assaults and soaring melodies – and Americanized it: i.e. simplified it and made it more powerful. There was no flab in these songs, which lunge forward primed to their fighting weight. Taken objectively, the lyrics are dire, a brash and naïve collection of comic book gore, violence and bravado which an adolescent could pen. But you can’t take them on their own merits as they’re part of the ‘fuck you’ ethos, the attitude. Combined with the warts ‘n’ all performance – in which every bum note, vocal blow out and error is kept in to add to the maelstrom – and the muddy production, you’re left with something strengthened by its imperfections. For all the lack of sophistication, few records can match it for its vehemence, its violence and its power.

Metal has certainly become more technical than this, and more sophisticated. In many avenues it’s become more extreme, and brutal, too. Moreover, with modern production, it has also become more cinematic in sound, more expansive and defined in its sound. But it’s never been heavier. 1985-1990 remains the benchmark for sheer weight and clout, the era when metal packed its biggest punches without quarter.

[binnie]

Terrific point about Sabotage being the spring board for more experimentation. The track "Am I Going Insane (Radio)" is the start of the "Merseybeat" influence you brought up, and if you examine the song closely enough, it really turns out to be the great-lost Yardbirds single of 1965. No, I'm not kidding. Listen to the tune with your eyes closed (and ears open), and tell me it wouldn't fit in perfectly somewhere in between "Mister, You're A Better Man Than I" and "Over, Under, Sideways, Down".

Ha! Well, I'll be damned. I think you're right.

I imagine Iommi is a Jeff Beck/ Eric Clapton devotee, so perhaps the link?

I was considering doing a review of 'Sabbotage' (as I think it really is Sabbth's masterpiece), but given it already has hallowed status I didn't think that there's much point as I doubt I've much to say that hasn't been said before. For all the reverence for Sabbath amongst METALHEADS, however, it annoys me beyond belief how far they can be written of by rock fans in general. With stuff as bold and experimental as 'I Am Going Insane' (and most of 'Sabbath Bloody Sabbath') their influence on rock, as much as metal, is overlooked. To my ears, anyway.

[binnie]

Against Me – White Crosses

Tom Gabel has some big balls. Signing to a major label and making records that increasingly veer away from his anarcho-punk and brick shit house production of his early career towards symphonic radio-friendly rock is one thing. Writing a song sticking the finger up to those who yelled ‘sell out’ by claiming that the hardcore ethos was something of an embarrassingly naïve teenage phase – as he does here on ‘I was a Teenage Anarchist’ – is taking it to a whole new level. You just hope that the naysayers get the irony of the fact that when an artist does whatever they want to do and flies in the face of expectations, that really is the epitomy of not giving a fuck.

Far from sound like the belching of Black Flag, Against Me here approach the territory of early REM, U2 and the Cure, a sort of folk-punk with plenty of sheen. Tom Petty was clearly in the rear view mirror during the album’s back seat conception. Butch Vig’s production leaves plenty of space between the parts to create a sound that is cavernous and orchestral in places and although Against Me ultimately come up considerably short of The Replacement’s blending of punk-rock ethos and radio rock bombast they have produced a very, very good record. ‘Because of the Shame’ is wonderful: its Pretender’s like bite draws you in to this tale of dead memories and the regret felt at a funeral; ‘Suffocation’ has a hook which is sickly sweet yet cynical, and is the perfect broken pop song. On ‘We’re Breaking Up’ they channel XTC and the Psychedellic Furs in a way that The Killers never could; and ‘Ache With Me’ is the symphonic rock ‘n’ roll that Green Day have been scrabbling around for – even if it’s not the blend of the calibre that Sugar achieved 20 years ago.

There’s plenty of bite here, and it’s a bite that gains power from variety. Tom Gabel has established himself as quite the songsmith, his characteristically wordy assault on full flow at the band’s centre. Warm and fragile, this is a very human collection of songs.

[FORD]

Terrific point about Sabotage being the spring board for more experimentation. The track "Am I Going Insane (Radio)" is the start of the "Merseybeat" influence you brought up, and if you examine the song closely enough, it really turns out to be the great-lost Yardbirds single of 1965. No, I'm not kidding. Listen to the tune with your eyes closed (and ears open), and tell me it wouldn't fit in perfectly somewhere in between "Mister, You're A Better Man Than I" and "Over, Under, Sideways, Down".

Well..... maybe without the cheesy 70's synthesizers all over it.

[binnie]

From the vaults: Extreme – Waiting for the Punchline (1995)

Entering the mid-90s with a less bombastic, stripped down sound, Extreme delivered an album which is something of a forgotten gem. Given the death of hair metal, the obvious thing to do would have been to make an ‘edgy’ or grunge record. But Extreme – for all their nice guy, squeaky-clean image – never actually played by the rules. Whilst their contemporaries were making clichéd party-hard, groupie-devouring tales of debauchery, they combined blistering hard rock with an attempt at social commentary. 20 years on, the lyrics and tone of their debut and ‘Pornograffiti’ sound clunky, cumbersome and naive, but you’ve got to admire the ambition and balls of something so idiosyncratic.

And that unassuming defiance of trends is here too. Tackling the issue of prejudice, ‘Naked’, is hardly normal hard rock fodder, but it’s delivered with aplomb, Gary Cherone’s falsetto offsetting Nuno Bettencourt’s one-foot-in-the-blues playing to allow the song to switch from whisper to roar on the spin of a dime. Whilst in the past Extreme had often pushed beyond sentimental into saccharine, here the jammed out style of the songs felt more emotive and less contrived – witness the Jane’s Addiction like ethereal rock of ‘Tell Me Something I Don’t Know’. The clumsy lyrics and vocal wails are gone too, and some of the guitar pyrotechnics have been reigned in, and the result is a cool little record. Songs are constructed around simple ingredients – a great riff, a catchy vocal, hooky melody – performed passionately, and arranged with enough nuances to make them shimmer and shine. Witness opener ‘There Is No God’, which combines a funky riff with an austere topic in a way which only Prince could handle. ‘Hip Today’ (surely a dig at Seattle?) is too catchy, whilst ‘Evilangelist’ and ‘No Respect’ prove that there was plenty of bite left in the band, and ‘Unconditionally’ – the best ballad they ever wrote – demonstrates that their strength was twofold: variety, and good songs.

Bettencourt is on fire through, delivering plenty of ‘OH. MY. GOD’ solos without ever over-powering the songs. ‘Cynical’ has a hulk of a riff which slithers over the song – this is a band which sounded like no-one else, and offered music that was gutsy, fresh and soulful without resorting to navel-gazing. That’s one in the eye for the insipid Seattle sound. Sure, the psychedelic instrumental ‘Midnight Express’ doesn’t really fit, and ‘Leave Me Alone’ is somewhat over-sincere, but ‘Waiting For the Punchline’ is a lot of fun. You couldn’t date this album, and that’s always the sound of sincerity, the sound of a band making music from the heart.

[binnie]

From the vaults: Foo Fighters – Echoes, Silence, Patience, Grace (2007)

You wonder how Dave Grohl got away with it, really. From the volatile, gloriously noisy alt.rock Goddery that was Nirvana, he has emerged 2 decades later as the epitome of everything that band stood against, gleefully embracing stadium pay-checks whilst making radio rock for the everyman. Yet no-one has ever called him on it. Why? The answer is twofold: firstly, Grohl oozes charisma and despite his success stills comes across like the goofy kid playing air-guitar in his bedroom whilst fantasizing about scoring the cheerleaders – we can all identify with that. Secondly, he has a knack of writing near-perfect hard-rock songs cut through with gargantuan pop hooks. You can imagine someone not loving Foo Fighters; but actively disliking them? That feels unlikely – they rock enough to engage the metal-heads, but not too hard to frighten off the pop-tarts. The result: a squillion records sold from the centre-ground.

Yet, in 2007 Foo Fighters decided to go all mature. Listening to it now, you are clearly aware that ‘Echoes, Silence, Patience, Grace’ was not conceived as music to party too, and the fun-o-meter is decidedly lower than on their more patented tunes. Lyrically, the songs seem to veer perilously close to hackneyed-heartache and, in places, touch on the world-weary, a more introspective plane which is amplified by allowing Chris Shiflett’s more expressive guitar playing a fuller role in the sound. That path would be fine and dandy if Foo Fighters had had the courage to embrace it wholeheartedly, and make the more mature rock ‘n’ roll that they felt was in them. Sadly, however, they tried to balance the acoustic folkery and MOR with the more testosterone rock for which we’d come to love them. Thus opener ‘The Pretender’ employs the soft/heavy dynamics and relentless building which they’ve carved a career on – we’ve heard it all before, and the result is a song with its bite diminished by familiarity. Similarly, ‘Long Road to Ruin’, with its gargantuan saccharine hook, feels like a radio-friendly unit-shifter. The pure pop of ‘Cheer up Boys (Your Make Up is Running)’ is equally out-of-place here: it’s slightly tongue-in-cheek swipe at the emo kids is refreshing, but its happy-go-lucky vibe is cumbersome on an album steering towards introspection.

What we have, then, is what we have often come to get with the Foos – a curiously unbalanced album. Indeed, it might be said that Grohl writes memorable songs and forgettable records (‘The Colour and the Shape’ and ‘Wasting Light’ notwithstanding). Thus we have ‘Let It Die’, a classic rock song which switches from acoustic delicacy to violent savagery as easily as Grohl twists from sombre to roar; the delicate acoustic lament of ‘Stranger Things Have Happened’, which is easily the most beautiful piece they’ve ever made; and the piano-led, James Taylor cool of ‘Statues’. And it is those experiments into softer rock and orchestration which prove most rewarding – the more expansive sound may highlight the flab in songs like ‘Come Alive’ and the wistful ‘Summer’s End’, but you know they’re from the heart not the (career focussed) brain.

Are Foo Fighters MOR for the 21st Century? Given the sheer brilliance of some of their records, that’s probably something of a dis-service. No-one would argue that this band’s natural territory is when they’re on kill mode, but ‘Echoes, Silence, Patience, Grace’ is far from a disaster or a stepping-stone between the heavier ‘In Your Honor’ and ‘Wasting Light’: on the evidence here, when Grohl finally does decide he doesn’t want to play the goofy kid anymore, we’ll still be in for some gems.

[binnie]

From the vaults: Wolfsbane – Wolfsbane (1994)

They stuck their middle fingers up to those preening Seattle pussies; they called their fans (affectionately, I think) ‘Howling Mad Shitheads’; and they played heavy-fucking-metal – with uber-sized bollocks. They were Wolfsbane: saying they should have been huge is a platitude but it is so true. God only knows why they weren’t embraced more widely. Some of us blame Rick Rubin’s miss-management during their early days; others blame Blaze Bayley’s jumping ship to Iron Maiden. Who knows? What I do know, however, is that this – like all Wolfsbane records – deserves to be in the collection of any metal-head.

It’s an infectious, joyous, and instantly playable economic slab of metal delivered with punk attitude. Primal, menacing and Leary, but oozing (slightly soiled) charisma, too. Coming on the back of the epic live record – ‘Massive Noise Injection’ (1993) – this, Wolfsbane’s third album proper, saw them building momentum after a series of set-backs. Opener ‘Wings’, with its F.T.W chorus and screeching solo, is all energy; ‘Money Talks’ is an infectious cry for the underdogs; and ‘Lifestyles of the Broke & Obscure’ is grungier than anything Seattle ever produced, and sounds filthy. Like a juggernaut on kill-mode, this record just doesn’t let up. Indeed, these songs are so good – so filled with the joyous aggression which fuels all great metal – that they even glisten through a production which could be called ‘swampy’ at best.

Purists would probably opt for their earlier records – ‘Live Fast, Die Fast’ (’89) and ‘Down Fall The Good Guys’ (’91) – but it doesn’t really matter where you start. This is anthemic, raucous and timeless heavy metal thunder.