Album Reviews

[binnie]

From the vaults: Bigelf – Hex (2007)

Any doubt that modern bands don’t know how to make good time rock ‘n’ roll is dispelled about 5 seconds into ‘Madhatter’, the opening tune on Bigelf’s sonic brew of an album. A glorious T-Rex hook face-fucks some serious Sabbath-inspired rumble in a song so colossus in its sound it could eat mountains. Bigelf are fun – more fun than you’ve ever had with your clothes on or off. Their sound is cinematic, symphonic, and it will make you smile like a crazy person on happy pills. Don’t over-analyze it, don’t confine it to a label. Just listen. Bluesy tones, boulder shitting riffs, epic shredding, huge choruses, and, erm, mellotron – it’s the purest ingredients of 1967-72 amped up and beamed out. ‘Carry the Load’ is all stoner thump; ‘Bat in the Belfry II’ is Queen channelling an Alice Cooper vibe; and the ethereal ‘Disappear’ is so moving it’ll make you melt – is this what Jimi meant by kissing the sky?

‘Hex’ was a more straightforward affair than its follow-up – the sheer clusterfuck of a rock ‘n’ roll circus which was ‘Cheat The Gallows’. It’s the perfect way into this frankly astonishing band. This is not some rose-tinted nostalgia trip of a band – it’s one who has managed to put their own twist on the classic.

[binnie]

From the vaults: Testament – Demonic (1997)

Thank God for Testament. In metal’s hallowed history, it’s hard to think of many bands who’ve flown the flag in the face of adversity (or obliviousness) with such middle-finger totting gusto. After the immense amount of critical acclaim levelled at their early thrash masterpieces (especially ‘Lecacy’ and ‘The New Order’), the mid-90s, post-grunge and Nu-metal era proved a difficult time for band commercially. But not creatively. Developing – rather than abandoning – their thrash hallmarks, ‘Demonic’ was the most extreme record the band ever made. Exploring bigger, chunkier song structures based around huge choruses as they had on 1994’s ‘Low’, ‘Demonic’ saw the band infuse that sound with elements of industrial and death metal (the latter particularly evident in Chuck Billy’s vocal style). The result was something moodier and darker. ‘The Burning Times’ is heavier than anything, and sounds like Slayer on steroids. ‘Demonic Rights’ possessed an anthemic sonic stomp, a low rumble propelled by an incredible wall of riffs. ‘Jin-Jin’ evokes the groove metal vibe that Sepultura pioneered on ‘Chaos AD’ and ‘Murky Waters’ captures the brooding thrash of ‘Sound of The White Noise’-era Anthrax, whilst ‘John Doe’ is as traditional a metal song as you’ll find in the mid-90s, an epic riff and hulking chorus combining to something infectiously catchy.

In truth, even the more experimental moments here – like ‘Ten Thousand Thrones’ – are worth exploring. Although forgotten today and largely ignored at the time, ‘Demonic’ saw Testament producing metal as strong and progressive as the much more applauded Machine Head and Fear Factory were at the time. Without Alex Skolnick, the band was markedly different – the classic guitar interplay with Eric Peterson was noticeably absent here. But different is not necessarily weaker. More brooding, more dark, and more adventurous ‘Demonic’, like ‘Low’ before it, saw the band making great music just for the sake of it – and that, ultimately, is where the real gems occur.

[binnie]

Will Haven – Voir Dire

I once attended a photographic exhibition by Donna Ferrato, renound for her exploration of domestic violence. Her work was utterly remarkable, and for the power with which it is etched onto my memory is disproportionate to the level of pleasure it gave me: I passed through being numb to uncomfortable, oddly guilty, and ultimately haunted. Brilliant in every way, and vital in every sense of the word, the exhibition made me react. But it wasn’t pleasurable (nor, I assume, was it intended to be). Will Haven’s music has always had the ability to tap into the uncomfortable side of being human – ‘Voir Dire’ is no different.

It all starts ambiently enough: the opening moments are serene, the sort of music you’d expect vegans to listen to between bathroom breaks. But the violence soon cuts through, giving way to the form of discordant warfare we have come to expect from Will Haven. There’s a ledge over the edge, and this band sits on it, taking hard-core into territories where conventional song structures, tempos and time signatures are merely a glimmer of a memory. There are no virtuoso egos, no heroics, no flash – this is a band strapped down to its rawest and most passionate, delivering a wall of sound built upon angular riffs, atmospheric keyboards, scorched vocals and a hulking, all encompassing presence. ‘Siege’ – which tackles an abusive relationship – is a case in point. It both repels and captivates simultaneously, kicking you in the guts and provoking you to think. ‘When the Walls Close In’ possess an odd beauty, one born of bareness, of awe in the face of something desolate. ‘A Beautiful Death’ conjurs the stark violence of an early Rollins Band monolgue, whilst ‘Urban Agague’ twists soft/heavy dynamics into something fresh and altogether larger than the band has managed before.

The return of vocalist Grady Avenell for this, the band’s 5th album, has been a revelation. If 2007’s ‘Hierophant’ was disappointing and unfocussed, ‘Voir Dire’ is everything WH fans could want and more: unsettling, immersive and nasty, the band have always been set apart from other avante guard noisemongers by exercising such control over their own extremity, employing dynamics that allow the songs to take hold of the listener rather than spiraling out of control. As intelligent as they are uncompromising, you don’t just feel this music, you submit to it. You can’t always claim to have enjoyed a Will Haven album: but it always makes you react.

[binnie]

Skeletonwitch – Forever Abomination

Brandishing a sound which welds the darker side of thrash – think Kreator and Possessed – with the more tuneful side of death metal – think Arch Enemy or Dark Tranquility – Skeletonwitch break up the staccato riffing assault which is thrash’s hallmark by injecting sickening melody lines and acoustic interludes. ‘Forever Abomination’ is easily their most adventurous, and best, record. The cover artwork’s depiction of a satanic haunted wood perfectly captures the band’s otherworldly and demonic aesthetic. In a sense, then, this is a throwback record. Skeletonwitch certainly capture the excitement of early Slayer or Sepultura, a thrash band which doesn’t overcomplicate their sound and rob the balls out of it. ‘This Horrifying Force (The Desire To Kill)’ is as good as anything being produced in Scandanavia; ‘Reduced To the Failure of Prayer’ is a blast of taut and twisted riffage and old school soloing; ‘Rejoice In Misery’ is blunt force thrash; and ‘The Infernal Resurrection’ is epic, hallowed metal. What we have here is a record which captures the full out fun of early thrash and blasts it through the clarity of Matt Hyde’s frankly monstrous modern production: crisp, crunchy and rich, Hyde has captured the sound of a band alive and ripping. It’s nothing you’ve not heard before: but it comes at you live the demented, twisted demon on the cover artwork.

[binnie]

Metallica – Beyond Magnetic

This 4 track, I-tunes only release to celebrate ‘tallica’s 30 year anniversary comprised a series of off-cuts from the band’s return-to-form ‘Death Magnetic’. A stone me it’s good. Really good. Opener ‘Hate Train’ smashes the ‘greasy’ sound the band were searching for on ‘Load’ into the crunch of their mid-80s hey-day and comes on like some pistol-touting Motorhead nutcase sporting one hell of a hook. ‘Just a Bullet Away’ is awash with RIFF RIFF RIFF RIFF RIFF, sports a melody with a real ‘80s vibe and a melodic mid-section which recalls ‘Breadfan’. ‘Hell and Back’ – easily the least polished piece here – employs the soft/heavy dynamics the band have treaded before, but with a more abrasive allure. There’s something damaged and menacing here, a captivation of the metallic country sound which Hetfield has been searching for all of these years – this is Metallica sounding vital and vibrant, and just for a moment the joy of beholding those bullet-belt wearing evil mothers in ’83 returns. But they save the best for last. Even in demo form ‘Rebel of Babylon’ is easily one of the strongest tunes the band has penned in 20 years: a thrashtastic megaforce of an epic which is very reminiscent of the ‘Mercyful Fate’ medley they threw together in the late ‘90s. In the wake of the Lulu debacle, ‘Beyond Magnetic’ gives us hope – when they actually enjoy being a metal band, Metallica are still fucking immense at doing so.

[binnie]

From the vaults: Aerosmith – Night in the Ruts (1979)

This is one helluva record. It’s even more remarkable considering the conditions under which it was made: this was an era of a strung-out Aerosmith at each other’s throats and barely functioning as a band. Perry threatened to leave a couple of times. Replacement guitarists play on several of the tunes (Neil Thompson on ‘Mia’ and Richard Supra on ‘Mia’ and ‘No Surprise’ and Jim Crespo on various tunes) – the glory days of 4 years earlier must have felt a lifetime away during its genesis.

And yet – despite being chronically overlooked by fans and critics alike – it’s a damn fine hard rock record. No-one would state that it matches ‘Toys…’ or ‘Back…’ in the songwriting department. Nor is it as finessed as those records. Indeed, this was a dirtier, rawer and freer affair: it’s almost as those this record should have pre-ceded ‘Toys…’/’Back..’, the sheer bluseiness makes it feel like it should have come after ‘Get Your Wings’. Opener ‘No Surprise’ is pile-driver r’n’b – a punky, New York Dolls riff and gloriously sloppy performance is amplified by a wicked guitar hook, and it’s clear that what Aerosmith had lost in the control of their composition they had gained in a boost of energy and urgency. ‘Chiquita’ is equally on fire, with Tyler in particular exceling on this concrete slab of blues, and the slide-guitar led ‘Cheesecake’ is as nasty a slice of sleeze as Page/Plant ever shimmied over.

Even the covers possess certain ‘perfect in a fucked-up way’ charm. ‘Remember (Walking in the Sand)’ – originally by the Shangri Las – is a schmaltsy croon, a bourdon soaked twist on the Summer of Love. And The Yardbird’s ‘Think About It’ (with a riff reminiscent of ‘Rats In the Cellar’) is raw and gutsy. What we have here, then, is a lusty, amphetemine charged back-alley fuck of a record – in one sense, that was a step back for Aerosmith at the turn of the decade (they ‘big hits’ were not in evidence here); but in another, it ‘Night…’ features everything that they would be lacking in the pop-preen of the post ‘Done With Mirrors’ era.

Far from their best, but still better than most of the rest.

[binnie]

From the vaults: Iron Monkey – Our Problem (1998)

There’s only one word which gets close to encapsulating Iron Monkey’s sound: NASTY. There’s was the sonic equivalent of Satan’s filthiest bowel movement – impossibly dark, painful, drenched in evil and yet oddly satisfying. And no-one has topped it since.

Channeling a Melvins/Fudge Tunnel epic grunge through Kyuss’s stoner funk and Napalm Death’s ‘fuck you’ extremism, Iron Monkey blasted tortured vocals over an endless procession of rumbling Sabbath riffs. The result is something beyond heavy – but what made it so infectious was the fact that amidst the insanity there is always something in the songs to latch onto. Sporting possibly the most offensive, phallic anti-Christian artwork imaginable, this was a deceptive record: on the one hand, it’s metal at its simplest, Sabbath-esque blueprint; and on the other it is metal at its most extreme and nihilistic. That contrast is the source of the malevolence here. Iron Monkey may have been built on the rudiments of a proto-metal sound, but their aesthetic was the anti-thesis of the saccarhine optimism of the Summer of Love: the beautiful children had become bitter old hags, and this was their soundtrack.

Play it if you dare.

(R.I.P John Paul Morrow)

[gbranton]

Whitesnake - Forevermore

A solid effort from DC and co. which is bound to make you smile. Building on the good work laid down by this line-up on 'Good To Be Bad', this time round they have gelled together more closely and the whole record feels more like the product of a band...... a damn fine rock 'n' roll record which will brighten up your summer no end.

Agree mostly with this, I think I liked it more than you did. I think it's pretty fantastic.

BAD CITY = WELCOME TO THE WASTELAND ( released on 4 August 2010 )

After all a good Melodic-Rock album with a very good production and I expect some more 'fireworks' on the next cd to put 'BAD CITY' on 'the map'!!

Best Songs : WILDLIFE // TAKE ME FOR A RIDE

I was peasantly surprised by this album, nice hooks and it even has this thing called guitar solos. Nothing here will make you forget about George Lynch but just to hear a modern record with musicianship that is better than rudimentary is a step in the right direction. I can't hear Take Me For A Ride enough times, it's a fun song. Too bad this band will probably never make another album. Lead singer Josh Caddy was arrested for sexual assault and was dropped from the band. His replacement was in a failed band with a couple of the other members of Bad City previously (smart move) and he sucks.

[binnie]

Agree mostly with this, I think I liked it more than you did. I think it's pretty fantastic.

.

I liked it a lot. It's the best 'snake album for a long time (although 'Good To Be Bad' was good, too). Not everything is a killer, but the title track is sensational.

[binnie]

Boris – Attention Please

Easily one of the most intriguing – and unclassifiable – bands on the planet, Japan’s Boris make albums which span just about every type of heavy music, abandoning each guise with each subsequent release. Here, they’ve made something almost ambient – but in a chilling fashion. The title track sounds like Bjork: a series of trippy, jazzy beats and distorted guitars overlain with some beautiful vocals from Wata. ‘Pretty Boy’ conjours Morcheeba, Garbage and even French ambient dance crew A.I.R – like the Flaming Lips pop of ‘Hope’, is a beautiful lullaby of a song offset with a haunting, eerie vocal. ‘Tokyo Wonder Land’ is trip-hop infused blues overlain with a guitar line which could melt the sun. This is magical, soothing, and unnerving in equal measures. Delicate, powerful and completely unique, they manage to create music which is both freakishly original and instantly listenable.

You could accuse Boris of being baffling, but never boring – indeed ‘Attention Please’ was released alongside another album – ‘Heavy Rocks’ – which could rip your head off at 50 paces. You have to be seriously gifted to slip from beauty to beast with such ease.

[binnie]

The Civil Wars – Barton Hollow

Plenty of bands have made a name re-crafting folksy Americana in recent years (hello Fleet Foxes and Bon Iver), but it’s nice to be presented with someone who does it really, really well. If the music here doesn’t carry you to a better place, it’s time to suck on a tail pipe, my friend. Joy Williamson and John Paul White craft achingly beautiful songs around simple harmonies and simple guitars – the music is sparse, breathless and tinged with human longing. Their voices blend perfectly in harmony, and Williams, in particular, could warm the heart of a dead man. Opener ’20 years’ is moody folk of the simplest kind, whilst the title-track is a more bombastic take on demonic blues which proves that this band can do beast alongside beauty. ‘C’est la Mort’ and ‘Poison & Wine’ are wrapped in sinewy vocal lines, and twist from delicate introspection to howling peaks on the flip of coin. This is music crafted from experience: the trials of love, melancholy and redemption.

Get in on the ground floor before everyone else does.

[Mr Walker]

The Civil Wars – Barton Hollow

Plenty of bands have made a name re-crafting folksy Americana in recent years (hello Fleet Foxes and Bon Iver), but it’s nice to be presented with someone who does it really, really well. If the music here doesn’t carry you to a better place, it’s time to suck on a tail pipe, my friend. Joy Williamson and John Paul White craft achingly beautiful songs around simple harmonies and simple guitars – the music is sparse, breathless and tinged with human longing. Their voices blend perfectly in harmony, and Williams, in particular, could warm the heart of a dead man. Opener ’20 years’ is moody folk of the simplest kind, whilst the title-track is a more bombastic take on demonic blues which proves that this band can do beast alongside beauty. ‘C’est la Mort’ and ‘Poison & Wine’ are wrapped in sinewy vocal lines, and twist from delicate introspection to howling peaks on the flip of coin. This is music crafted from experience: the trials of love, melancholy and redemption.

Get in on the ground floor before everyone else does.

I've had this one for a while... kinda cool if your looking for something new (yet old).

[binnie]

Yup. It's all in those beautiful harmonies.

Sometimes you need something delicate, y'know?

[Mr Walker]

Michael Monroe – Sensory Overdrive
With a band featuring Steve Conte (New York Dolls), Sami Yaffa (Hanoi Rocks) and Ginger (The Wildhearts), this was always going to be cooler than John Travolta’s favourite dancing shoes. And cool it is. An arsenal of Ginger-penned songs sparkle with pop-rock genius. Uncluttered with ego and frills, the ingredients are few and perfectly balanced: fuck-off riffs, silky choruses and performances which sizzle and crackle with all the fire of ageing desperadoes kicking the crap out of the last chance saloon. Jack Douglas’s raw production plays to the power of that simplicity, and he’s extracted the best vocal performance from Monroe since Hanoi’s glory days – THAT voice is punkier, raspier in its tones, with Monroe barking the lyrics and eschewing the more effeminate end of his delivery. ‘Got Blood’ is a furious rock ‘n’ roller cooked in eternal piss ‘n’ vinegar; ‘Later Won’t Wait’ is Cheap Trick in a bar brawl; and ‘78’ has an old-skool punk bite which only guys who couldn’t give a flying fuck whether you take ‘em or leave ‘em could pull off. But it’s the opening and closing tracks which really kill: ‘Trick of the Wrist’ – with its bulldozer bass and slippery chorus – is the grizzly swansong of an ageing rock God; and mixing Lemmy with Monroe on ‘Debauchery on a Fine Art’ is like tattooing BADASS on your forehead and breaking anyone who gets in your way. You’ll not here a more fun record this year.

I'm really liking this CD... it's what I always figured HR should have sounded like.

[binnie]

Glad you dig it - easily one of my top 20 for 2011, and best record Michael Monroe has released in looonnng time. I've just penned a review of a HR record, which will be coming soon.

Ginger wrote most of the tunes: if you're impressed, check out some stuff by The Wildhearts. I recommend 'Phuq U', 'Earth Vs. The Wildhearts', and 'The Wildhearts' to start with. Sort of metal/punk/hard rock with HUGE choruses and melodies. Kicks you in the balls with a smile.

[Mr Walker]

...plus the new Opeth record, ...

I'm currently catching up on things that I've neglected during the holidays... Opeth's 'Heritage' finally clicked with me today... great album. Probably one of those albums that annoys their fanbase, but I don't care... I really like it.

[binnie]

I think it's a very impressive album, I just can't say that I love it. Honestly, I can't even get a handle on it (otherwise I'd have reviewed it).

They've got some balls - I respect bands who grow....

[binnie]

From the vaults: The Scorpions - Virgin Killer (1976)

'Sexy? What's wrong with sexy?' quips Spinal Tap guitar-God Nigel Tuffnel in response to record company objections to the artwork for their forthcoming record - 'Smell The Glove' - during a pivotal scene from the 'rockumentary'. Well, the cover the 'Virgin Killer' - featuring a naked teenage girl holding a piece of glass in her, erm, 'special' place - is exactly what's wrong with 'sexy'. It's also what most people think about when they remember this record. As horrendous as the cover is, focus on destracts not only from the quality of the music here; but also from the fact that this record marked a crucial stage in The Scorp's evolution - the chrystalization of their sound into short, sharp blasts of pulsating heavy songs from its origins in the free-flowing blues rock Hendrixisms of their earlier discs.

It's all here in the fizzling energy of opener 'Pictured Life'. Sounding a little like The Sweet, this takes us back to a time when 'metal' was really just pop music with raucous guitars - a series of huge hooks, sinewy harmonies and pulsating chop-chop guitars drives a long a belter of a tune featuring solos which you can whistle. Sure, at this stage in their careers Klaus Meine's voice was still somevat 'Do yoo vant a vittle vock and voll?' but it all adds to the charm. 'Backstage Queen' revels in the cliches, and is closer to the punchy, sleazy pop-metal they'd evolve into a decade later; whilst the title cut - the most aggressive track here - anticipates 'Blackout': if you're hunting for moments of proto-thrash, check out the unbriddled fury of the chorus!

The softer moments are stronger - or at least more focussed - than they had been in the past, too. The mid-'60s folk feel to 'In Your Park' reminds us that before they started penning the sacahrine dogshit powerballads of the '80s, the Scorpions could really be quite touching. 'Crying Days' is a sense to opposite: overstated, glorious in its pomp and with a series of explosive and tender leads. Indeed, what strikes you most about 'Virgin Killer' is the evolution of Rudolf Schenker and Uli Jon Roth's ability to play off one another; the trading of licks made for a big guitar sounds, something which later-day Scorps albums would lose.

There are certainly some ugly ducklings here. 'Hell Cat' (which sounds like Hendrix's 'Gypsy Eyes') isn't a bad song, it's just out of place, a feature compounded by Roth's vocals. And 'Catch Your Train' feels like a generic moment, for all the gusto of the band's performance. But then, 'Virgin Killer' importance doesn't rest upon it being perfect - there are certainly better Scorpions records. But I'm not sure there are any which capture the sheer sense of fun at the heart of that band like this one does.

[Mr Walker]

I never found myself getting into pre-Lovedrive Scorpions. Maybe one of these days. I just got a new vinyl rip of 'Lonesome Crow' yesterday.

[ThrillsNSpills]

I never found myself getting into pre-Lovedrive Scorpions. Maybe one of these days. I just got a new vinyl rip of 'Lonesome Crow' yesterday.

try Taken By Force !

[binnie]

Or, better yet, the 'Tokyo Tapes'.

[Mr Walker]

Or, better yet, the 'Tokyo Tapes'.

I had, or probably still have, the double lp. I bought that back in the day, probably after I bought 'Blackout'. Maybe since there was such a difference in styles between the two (the 70s hard rock of Roth-era v. the poppier sleaze rock of the 80s Jabs-era) it never grabbed me and never found myself going back to rediscover it. I've listened to VK, TBF and LC over the years, but if someone was forcing me to sing one of the songs off those albums at gunpoint... I'd be a dead man.

[binnie]

Dude, seriously, crank the 'Tokyo Tapes' - don't listen for what's NOT there, but for what is.

[binnie]

From the vaults: Hanoi Rocks - Self Destruction Blues (1982)

They say that chimps share 99% of their DNA with humans: but that 1% - 1 frickin' percent - makes all the difference. Nuances can be pivotal. And so it proved with Hanoi Rocks: there are a million blues-based, debauchery glorifying rock 'n' roll bands - but not one of 'em sounded like this. Truly great bands, it seems, transcend their DNA.

'Self Destruction Blues' - the Finn's third album - was really more of a compilation of EPs and B Sides. But you'd never know it: 'We're gonna make this a BIG ONE' yells Michael Monroe in his patented Jager-drawl as the record opens. 'Love's An Injection' sounds like the Stones if they'd taken amphetemines rather than heroin, a ramshackle rock 'n' roll accentuated with a brass section. This must have been what G'n'R were striving for on the flabby sections of the '...Illusions' records.

What we have here are a series of tunes penned by rock 'n' roll gypsies who, like the New York Dolls, always found beauty amidst the trash of life. 'Dead By Xmas' is the Boomtown Rats with balls; 'Nothing New' is timeless rock 'n' roll filtered through punk; and the ridiculously good 'Kill City Kills', with it's teasing guitar harmonies, dances its way effeminately into a savage urban - and urbane - blues. Even when the band stretches themselves unsuccesfully on the New Wave-y 'Cafe Avenue' - a dark, delicate tale of desperation - you can still feel it through the cracks.

Monroe wails, sneers and croon - a broken-down street-poet hellbent on touring the gutter; the guitars sizzle and bite; and its lavished with a production that creates so much space between the parts you could drive a truck through it.

[binnie]

The Union – Siren’s Song

Album number 2 from ex-Thunder guitar slinger Luke Morely and Winterville singer Pete Shoulder carries forward the raw sincerity of their 2010 debut. What strikes you most about these 11 songs is that The Union manage to possess so many styles – blues, folk, hard rock, roots – without cluttering their clear sense of self. Featuring a richer and thicker production than the debut album, the songs are beautifully crafted but with enough rough edges to feel human. The acoustic ‘Orion’ features one of the most beautiful melodies these ears have heard in a long while (think Nick Drake), whilst the piano-led ‘If I Could Make You Mine’ shows that this band have the talent to push beyond hard rock into classy singer-songwriter territory. ‘Black Rock’ and Burning Daylight’ are perfect hard rock songs – full of swagger, huge hooks and sumptuous choruses – whilst ‘Make Up Your Mind’ (imagine Bad Company going gospel) and ‘Cut The Line’ (cliché free blues rock) hit you where it hurts.

This really is accomplished stuff. Hard rock free of histrionics and unapologetically about the songs. Morely may have the bigger name, but it’s Shoulder’s voice that shines here – he is easily one of rock’s finest voices. Who knows what heights they can reach.

[Unchainme]

Thought I'd crash binnie's party a bit, I'm sure he won't mind.

Daft Punk-Discovery

I must admit, personally I was never too keen on the whole electronic scene at first. It seemed that from my perspective it was just a bunch of drum machines and some dude pressing buttons on a keyboard. This has recently changed as I've taken a liking to much of the music my younger bro. has introduced me to, and has truly shown me that some of the DJ's out there are some truly great artists and musicians out there.

When I had first Daft Punk it was back in 01 when snippets of the video for "One More Time" were shown on Nickelodeon. I had found the song quite catchy and never really thought much of the group. "Must be some bizarre Japanese pop act". Turns out, no, in fact they're two french dj's who actually started out in a rock group called Darlin' who covered Beach Boys tunes, and featured a guitarist who would later be in the group "Phoenix" (if you've watched NBC's coverage of Wimbeledon, you've no doubt heard their signature "1901". As it turns out, the group broke up, and two decided to give the whole House movement a try.

After great success from the electronic community following their first release "Homework", with tracks like "Da Funk", and "Around the World" being the trademark of the time, the group embarked on their 2nd album Discovey, one that would prove to be unique in that featured music videos cut up amongst a full length animated film directed by Leiji Matsumoto.

The album itself, is very incredible. During a time when the biggest thing going on in rock was the genre of nu metal, and rap was slowly entering a more darkened age, and bubble gum pop was in it's hey-day, this album is incredibly well done, and has aged very well. The album's lead track "One More Time" is a great pop song, that is damn catchy and likely won't leave your head once you hear it that day. "Aerodymanic" features a guitar solo that's incredible (a guitar solo in a dance song? fucking awesome), "Digital Love" harkens back almost to "Supertramp" sort of sound at times (especially during the bridge), Crescendolls, Face to Face, Too Long...fuck I love this album!

The movie to go along with it, while bizarre really ties the music in quite well, and makes it quite the visual treat for a music fans. I won't spoil it too much, but it's worth a watch in bits and pieces.

I think the true tragedy with this album was just the fact of when it was released in regards to where pop culture and music was in the US at the time. This was in the infant stages of the internet, and the point where MTV thought that playing videos was something they were no longer about, and if they were it was generally of really terrible approved pop acts featured in 30 second blurbs on TRL. If this was released 5 years earlier? No doubt you would have seen these videos every couple of hours on the channel.

But as it stands, this is a great album, and one of the few truly awesome things about the past decade. If you're a fan of older pure pop songs, and not afraid of a dance beat give this a shot.

[binnie]

Don't mind at all dude - the more the merrier.

Daft Punk rule. There are a few 'dance' bands worth checking out:

Morcheeba
Portishead
AIR

And then the scary shit:

Aphex Twin
The Prodigy

[binnie]

Dead Letter Circus – This Is The Warning

We normally imagine Aussie rock bands to be as sophisticated Fred Flinstone. Dead Letter Circus, however, take more cues from Jane’s Addiction than they do AC/DC – songs built around programming, multiple melodies, huge hooks, the result of a swirl sound of cinematic proportions. And it is as stunningly beautiful as a rock band can be. ‘Here We Divide’ is aeriel and airy rock, a surreal soundscape which switches from delicate devilish in an instant. Kim Benzie’s impassioned, haunting vocals possess the fragile power of a kiss on the forehead, and through his range the songs seem to grow in front of you, such is their raw power. ‘One Step’ is vulnerable, fragile, and all the more powerful for it, a wave of noise topped with a vicious guitar solo; whilst ‘The Cage’ is the sound of Tool channeling their inner Mars Volta.

This is heavy music, but it’s tempered by a range of reference points: A Perfect Circle, The Cult, The Cure, and the aforementioned Jane’s Addiction, all held together by Luke Williams’s remarkable drumming. What strikes you here is the sheer amount of music in each song - there are a myriad of time-changes (almost every 4 bars is different) – but the hooks are so strong the songs are never overwhelmed by the complexity. ‘The Drum’ sounds like Mastodon exploring their feminine side – an electronica lullaby which ultimately erupts into something monstrous.

A glorious, sonorous, collection of hauntingly delicate progressive rock: heavy but not abrasive, emotive but never sentimental. This is my new favourite band……

[binnie]

From the vaults: Fu Manchu - Godzilla's Eatin' Dust (1999)

More of the fatest slabs of ass-shakin', fuzz-box quakin' grooves on album number 5 from these SoCal stoners. This music is heavy. Heavy in a Sabbath way; a bowel-loosening, Stoogers funk out shitting riff after riff, and penning song after song about driving, making one of life's most mundane activities sound like the coolest thing EVER.

'Shift Kicker' belts stoner into punk, a lead geetar squalin' over a wall of riff. Converesly, 'Orbiter' has a Fun Lovin' Criminals meets Creedence kick-back vibe to it, easing you into the slacker vibe of rockin' for it's own sake. By the time the marraca shake of 'Mongoose' introduces one of THE stoner riffs, Fu Manchu owns you - and it's goooooood. This is music to loose brain cells too. Seriously, it's so simple that Fu Manchu are never in any danger of winning an Ivor Novello award - but sometimes beauty isn't about perfection, it's about feel. And when you're confronted with the weight of the groove behind 'Pigeon Toe' - with it's epic heaviness - you'll find yourself involuntarily grinning; when the bridge hits, you'll weeze 'Duuuuuuuuuuuuude'. Seriously.

It takes something to make a bonafide rock classic one of your signature tunes. But on their slowed-down to a rumble rendition of Blues Oyster Cult's 'Godzill'a that's exactly what the Fus did - its lives on as their set closer. This is one hell of a lot of fun: 'King of The Road' might contain the better tunes, and 'The Action Is Go' might be their epic, but nothing is more pleasurable than listening to this sonic workout.

[binnie]

From the vaults: Michael Schenker Group - Eponymous (1980)

'Are you high tonight, are you feeling right,
Cos I need you now, like I never did before,
Is it hard enough, is It loud enough
Cos if you don't approve,you can use the door......'

The opening to 'Armed & Ready' announces what Heavy Metal was all about in 1980: FUN. It was fight or fuck music - and Michael Schenker's debut was one of its best representatives, an adrenalin fueled, earth-shaking monster of a record. More metallic than his work with The Scorpions or UFO, for a brief moment in the early '80s Schenker - along with vocalist/writing partner Gary Bardon - proved he had the songwriting chops to match his former bands. That's no mean feat. The real shame is that, as with so many solo guitar players, he couldn't keep a stable line-up to capitalize on it.

But this was one hell of a shot at glory. Seriosuly, Schenker was penning solos that were both hummable and face melting - check out 'Cry For Nations'. Bardon's soulful croon is a perfect foil for Schenker's guitar pyromania, but neither sees the songs merely as showcases for their egos. What we have here a songs - great songs. The aforementioned 'Armed & Ready' - with its Priest-esque mucho-macho histrionics - harks back to a time when metal was really just pop with heavy guitars. It's all gloriously anthemic, but it's the nuances which really kill: the harmonies, the epic production, the pile-driving bridge - the God's are watching, and they command you to BANG THY HEAD! 'Victim of Illusion' is full of glorious hooks which make it sizzle and seduce; it's pop-leanings offset by 'Into The Arena', surely one of metal's most luscious and controlled instrumentals; whilst 'Feels Like A Good Thing' - with its monstrous riff, and sticky hook - is metal with bounce, metal you could shake yer ass to.

But this was more than just a cobbled together collection of great tunes. It's so well paced as an album. The ballad 'Tales of Mystery' offsets a tender vocal with a remarkable guitar melody faded into the background, and the whole affair culminates in the epic 'more Blackmore than Blackmore' 'Lost Horizons'. Listening to this record now, you can't help but wonder why it's not more fondly remembered in a way that contemporary discs by bands of the same scale like Saxon or Accept are. But its comes back to you from the ether like memories of a great one night stand - released in the same year as 'Ace of Spades', 'Heaven & Hell', and 'Blizzard of Ozz', Schenker's debut is capable of standing toe-to-toe with any of 'em.

Just a shame he pissed it all away......

[binnie]

Duplicate

[binnie]

From the Vaults: The Wildhearts – Must Be Destroyed (2003)

A world awaits an icon to make a connection
A mother complex begs stellar direction
He's taking the chair
He's living the life
He's fucking pretty girls every night
But he ain't fucking the wife

And he's doing the things we'll never do and he's genuine
Judging by the size of his crew
With a face the eye can easily digest
He's down with the big boys and up there with the big best
A Lennon, A Presley, a Muhammad Ali they give us there life
Literally it's got to be all or nothing, death or glory
'Cos the history books could always use a new story

Nexus Icon, Nexus Icon
The negative cycle is waiting for the next one
Nexus Icon, Nexus Icon
This is not open for negotiation

It could only be Ginger, one of the few remaining rock ‘n’ roll badasses: spouting lyrics like some fast-talkin’ Tarrantino villain spitting wisdom hewn from pop culture. It’s the Wildhearts, baby – scuzzy punk-metal played with boulder-sized testicles and enough quirky curve-balls to make you smile at the thought of a band like this even existing in a musical world that is increasingly po-faced. Platinum sized hooks, mule-kick riffs and perhaps the finest songwriter the UK has produced in the last 20 years, the Wildhearts have The Ramones on the stereo and early Soul Asylum in the rear view mirror.

It’s the variety that gets you. From the apocalyptic opener ‘Nexus Icon’, we move through the Cheap Trick pop-rock of ‘Only Love’, The Buzzcocks infused punk of ‘Someone That Won’t Let Me Go’ to the joyously mental 90 seconds of pop thrash that is ‘Get Your Grove On’. ‘Vanilla Radio’ is a clarion-call for those of us who hate the bland music which dominates the airwaves, and if ‘Top Of The World’ doesn’t give you a shit-eating smile, then the teenager in you is long dead.

This album is a helluva lot of fun, but it really flew under the radar back in 2003. It’s not even close to The Wildheart’s best (check out ‘Earth Vs..’ or ‘PHUQ U’: genius), but even it’s autopilot moments will kick you in the ear drums.

[vandeleur]

Love the wildhearts

[binnie]

They could have been huge if they hadn't been so.........wasted.

[binnie]

From the vaults: Pearl Jam - Riot Act (2002)

From the mid-90s to the early '00s, Pearl Jam tried to be everything to no-one: heartfelt, but rebellious; engaging, but willfully recalcitrant; musicians' darlings, but ego-less beat poets who'd do anything to avoid the spotlight. The result was a mess. An annoying mess, which left all but the die-hards wondering why, if you could pen the ballsy hard rock of 'Ten' and 'Vs, you wouldn't. How could being a poor man's Crazy Horse be more fun?

'Riot Act' - album number 7 - was the culmination of the mid-career mind fuck. Continuing the move into semi-acoustic land begun by 1996's 'No Code', Pearl Jam here sounded old before their time, delivering a series of wistful, moody rambles across rock's landscape. Fine in a one off EP, but hard-going across a 15 song - 15 fucking song(!) - album.

That's not to say that there aren't some gems floating in this sea of mediocrity. 'Cropduster' is ballsy, ear-bleeding country, Springsteen-esque arrangements allowing it to sweep in one continual movement. 'I Am Man' is forlorn and folky blues, and you can even forgive Vedder's undercooked lyric in the pressence of THAT hook. On the rocker 'Get Right', you can't help but smile in a 'fuck-me-there's-a-hook-and-it's-good' kinda way, as they kick it up into the chorus and the room seems to take off into one incendiary bubble in the way that only a truly great band can achieve.

But it all comes crashing down. Painfully. 'You Are' is awful funky rock guitar ('Love is a tower, and you are the key...' for fuck's sake); 'Love Boat Captain' is a tapestry of cliched lyrics hoping to wretch up the spirit of '67; and 'Help Help' is a wimisical take on the Beatles's 'White Album'. It's the sound of a band writing individually, not as a group.

You have to respect Pearl Jam for marching to the beat of their own drum - transcending the expectations of the 'grunge' label certainly allowed them to survive it. But as Vedder whinges about being trapped on the otherwise sumptuous orchestra of americana 'Can't Keep', you can't help but be reminded that whilst Pearl Jam are an easy band to respect, they're a difficult one to love.

[binnie]

From the vaults: Stone Temple Pilots - Core (1992)

'You can't swallow, what I'm thinking......' booms Scott Weiland on 'Dead & Bloated', the opening track of STP's incendiary debut record. It captures the moment perfectly, for here STP were all about being a hulking, swaggering riff-pummelling behemoth of a band. It's the one-two of the confidence and the heaviness that get's you - this things could move tectonic plates. When people piss and moan about 'grunge' killing rock, you have to wonder what they were hearing: there's more substance, bite and soul here than anything dripping out of LA in the late 80s or early 90s.

Whether it's the perfect synthesis of debauched rock 'n' roll and predatory sexuality that it 'Sex Type Thing', it's buzz-saw riff and power-chord driven chorus adding bite to the Weiland's whirlwind lyric taking things to the cusp of rape; the rumbling groove of 'Where The River Goes', a bluesy, jammed out swamp monster of a song which announced that STP would always exist on their terms, not the radio's; or tar-thick hooks of 'Naked Sunday' and 'Piece of Pie', you can't help but admire the clarity of intent and sure sense of self exhibited on this debut. 'Plush' says it all: the maturity of the composition is dazzling - a power-ballad in a dirtied up whore's dress.

They may not have had the stadium-metal leanings of Alice In Chains, the alt.rock nerdiness of Nirvana, or the dirtied up Creedence of Pearl Jam, but in a sense STP were always more of their own men. Much of that was propelled by the Deleo brother's unique playing: the odd time signatures, the curious approach to rhythm and riff writing which made STP so instantaneous and so.......memorable. Dean Deleo's playing is not flashy, but it's impactful - an unlikely guitar hero, perhaps, but surely one of heavy music's best riff writers. Tony Iommi in a plaid shirt. Combined with Weiland's commitment to Bowie-esque weirdness and love of the surreal, it made for something truly out their, delivered on a bed of truly twisted melodies.

20 years on: it's still quite a statement of intent. But it would be one which STP would quickly out-grow.

[Mr Walker]

Bin, have you heard this yet?



Artist…: Razorrape
Album….: Revenge Of The Hermaphrodite Whores
01. Triple Cock Buttfuck 01:45
02. Castration By Children 01:48
03. Shemale Snuff Scatorgy 01:33
04. Bukkake Suicide 01:48
05. Rabid Shemale Rape Squad 03:04
06. Pre-Teen Swinger Separty 01:56
07. Pigtail Bitch Piss Pleasure 02:24
08. Three On A Meathook 01:19
09. Revenge Of The Hermaphrodite Whores 02:51
10. Diarrhea Bucket 01:35
11. Kaviar Creampie 02:18
12. Beautiful Girl Hunter 01:19
13. Foreskin Facemask 09:18

[Mr Walker]

I heard that 'Diarrhea Bucket' is their 'Stay Frosty'.

[binnie]

The 9 minute epic 'Foreskin Facemask' is what intrigues me most.

Can't say I've heard it - but they clearly have a sense of humour.

[binnie]

In Solitude – The World, The Flesh, The Devil

To say that this sounds like early Mercyful Fate or Diano-era Iron Maiden would be an understatement. Hell (and that’s appropriate!), even the production harks back to 1981 – muted, compressed and crisp, this is metal before pro-tools, before the inflated and fabricated studio boom of the digital age. It’s metal in the classic sense in other ways, too. We get the – frankly so sincere it’s ridiculous – image: fur, leather, and battle paints; and we get the cartoon Satanism, too. It’s sort of metal in limbo between NWOBHM and thrash – speedy, but not staccato.

Oh, and its fun. Lots of fun. The title track is a mutating swirl of melodies and riffs. ‘We Were Never Here’ is pure operatic grandeur. We get gallops, we get sweeping soundscapes, multiple part songs, harmonies, crescendos and some seriously big-ass choruses – above all else – and this is what separates In Solitude from so many metal bands – you sense that tongues are planted firmly in cheeks. At its best – on the limber, writhing, contorting beast of Maiden worship that is ‘Dance of the Adversary’ or the 13 minutes of metal majesty that makes up ‘On Burning Paths’ – its dazzling and joylously evil stuff; at its worst – see ‘Demons’ – it’s a parodic mush of unmemorable riffs and melodies stretched over torturous length.

With bands that exist to replicate the past, it comes down to preference: some folks like the nostalgia trip and see it as proof of what modern bands are ‘missing’; some folks think that you can’t even re-create the music of the past because it existed in a specific context – what was once honest and pure is re-created as pointless and pastiche. Such opinions generally exists aside from the music itself. It would certainly be unfair to criticize In Solitude for emulation – especially in a world where Sabbath worship is so ubiquitous in heavy music. But when faced with the sheer volume of powerful, invigorating heavy music pouring out of Sweeden, you can’t help see where In Solitude come up short. This will make you smile, for sure – but it’s more likely to have you reaching for that scratchy old copy of ‘Melissa’ than it is to come back for more.