Album Reviews

[binnie]

From the vaults: Motorhead – March Or Die (1992)

‘March Or Die’ was released at a time when Motorhead were rejuvenating their career, which had tailed off in the mid/late ‘80s following a series of poor business decisions and label woes. Lemmy moved to LA because it was the only city large enough to allow his legendary presence the full space to blossom, and the band were signed to Sony, a move which saw them feted with all of the media hype that could be garnered on ‘living legends’. Commercially speaking, Sony certainly pumped life into a career that was dead on its ass – but could the same be said creatively? ‘1916’ (1991) – Motorhead’s first Sony record – was certainly a clarion call, but ‘March Or Die’ is surely a record which shows that record companies should really leave bands alone.

What a difference a year makes. ‘1916’ certainly had some of its power marred by the shiny production with which it was lavished – a production typical of the time – but it at least featured all of the hallmarks which marks the ‘Head out as the ‘Head: speed, belligerence and downright gnarliness. ‘March Or Die’, in contrast, sounds like Motorhead after the snip. The production here was clean, crisp and overblown, and typical of that which major labels on other ‘legends’ on their rosters in these years such as Ozzy Osbourne (see ‘No More Tears’) and Alice Cooper (see ‘Hey Stoopid’) in attempt to garner the attention of teens hooked on the Sunset sound. The results are decidedly mixed: some of the riffs on ‘March Or Die’ tap into a sleazy vein, but some of them have a poise previously absent in Motorhead, and shake their tail feathers like cheap hookers. But the biggest sin here is the absence of PACE. Was it a ploy to get radio play? Whatever the case, it weakens the package. On ‘Too Good To Be True’, for example, you can hear the ‘50s rock ‘n’ roll that Lemmy adores, but it’s dialed down and over-packaged. The country smaltz of ‘I Ain’t No Nice Guy’ – which, in a calculated move to have a ‘hit’, features Ozzy and Slash – is more Manilow than Motorhead.

There’s certainly some good stuff, however. ‘Bad Religion’ is a crunchy shuffle of badass proportions; ‘Hellraiser’ is a juggernaut thudding its way into life; and ‘You Better Run’ is a 12-bar blues played by gunslingers which is unlike anything else in Motorhead’s catalogue. The cover of Ted Nugent’s ‘Cat Scratch Fever’ is also a motherfucker: slower and more predatory than the original, there is a real sense of menace in this greasy take on a classic. Do these moments save the whole? Perhaps not. ‘March Or Die’ is not a bad album, but it is a compromised one. Motorhead would never make the same mistake again, and they’ve spent the last 20 years delivering the best music of their career – great album after great album that no-one listens to. It’s a crying shame.

[binnie]

Shrapnel – The Virus Conspires (2014)

The sign of a great debut album is when a band has absorbed all of their influences and pushed beyond them into a sound that is absolutely their own. ‘The Virus Conspires’ – the debut album from British Thrashers Shrapnel – is such an album. Opener ‘Kingdom Come’ announces itself with adrenalin and unapologetic purpose: This. Is. Thrash. The energy is maniacal, and the power of the speed and the shred is utterly hypnotic. Just like Thrash used to be. Well, not quite. This is no exercises in redundant nostalgia, but a very 2014 take on a classic brand of music: the production is beefy, the lyrics are topical, and the feel of the whole record is a long way from the ‘80s even if the component parts are not. ‘Titan’, for example, feels like a contemporary take on early Death Angel and Forbidden; whilst ‘Branded’ crackles and spits with a venom which is very much Shrapnel’s own; and ‘The Wake’ is just riff, riff, riff, riff – the control of their own power is dazzling, and the dynamics in the songs – which are melodic enough to be memorable, and brutal enough to be up there with modern metal’s best – is the sign of some serious talent. There really is no let up, not watering down of the power – where many modern Thrash brands go down a progressive route, or show off their chops, Shrapnel feel no need whatsoever to be clever. They value might over musicianship, and we should thank the lord for it: at one point of ‘Red Terror’ when I genuinely thought that my stereo was about to take off. Top it all off with Jae Hadley – whose vocals are somewhere between Halford and Hetfield – and you’ve got quite a metal record.

Indeed, I’m pretty sure I’ve already heard one of the best metal releases of 2014: and it’s not even Easter yet.

[binnie]

Artillery – Legions (2013)

Album number 6 from Danish Thrash legends Artillery is a very, very exciting experience. Building on the ground made by fellow ‘comeback’ records ‘When Death Comes’ (2009) and ‘My Blood’ (2011), ‘Legions’ serves up all of Thrash’s hallmarks with a very contemporary sound. Yes, some of the songs could do with an edit here and then; and, yes, the lyrical themes are as generically Thrash as you’d expect, but when you’re present with the twin force of Morten and Michael Stützer’s meaty guitars and Michael Bastholm Dahl’s Belladonna-esque wail, you can’t help but grin like a fat kid in a sweet shop. The Priest-does-Thrash of ‘Ethos Of Wrath’ could have been on Forbidden’s ‘Twisted Into Form’; ‘Chill My Bones (Burn My Flesh)’ has a vocal line most bands would kill for; and ‘Godfather’ has the frantic speed and killer riffs of classic Helloween – easily one of the best Thrash tunes I’ve heard in years. Sure, ‘Doctor Evil’ is a token blast of nostalgia on an otherwise up-to-date record, but you can overlook it in the face of such molten metal.

If the last Megadeth record left you a little hungry for more crunch, ‘Legions’ could very well be for you.

[binnie]

Grand Magus – Triumph & Power (2014)

In ‘Iron Will’ (2008) and ‘Hammer Of the North’ (2010) Grand Magus produced a brace of modern metal classic. That is undeniable. The rest of the Swedes catalogue, however, remains somewhat patchy, especially when they tone down the magisterial metal of their sound in favour of its doomier end, and last time out ‘The Hunt’ (2012) fell flat. It is with relief, then, that ‘Triumph & Power’ is something of a return to form. Indeed, it’s first three songs are absolute killers: ‘On Hooves Of Gold’ is dinosaur heavy, a thudding plod of primal metal which stirs up scenes of blood and power; if praise could be shorn across the glory of a broken battlefield, if still wouldn’t capture the sheer of joy of ‘Steel Versus Steel’s’ elemental metal at its best; and ‘Fight’ is essential an anthem of Manowar proportions. Indeed, comparisons with Manowar are well placed – not only is their music mid-paced, uncomplicated, and monumentally metallic, but Grand Magus are cool precisely because they’re so unfazed by being so wonderfully out-of-step with absolutely everything around them. Crushingly heavy without being even remotely extreme – this, ladies and gentleman is metal you can sing – and even the weaker moments here (‘Dominator’, ‘Holmgang’) are captivating because they’re so drenched in the aesthetics of metal.

Grand Magus make you feel good to be alive.

[binnie]

Black Veil Brides – Set The World On Fire (2011)

For a genre that prides itself on being outside the mainstream – and consequently populated by freethinkers – metal fans can be a remarkably judgemental bunch. Black Veil Brides are written off by many largely because of the way the dress – think Kiss meets Mad Max – a sign in the eyes of many of a band which is all style, no substance. ‘Set….’ – the band’s second record – should be more than enough to prove the detractors wrong. It is certainly the case that BVB are not setting out to be Converge or Opeth, and they shouldn’t be judged as such – this melody-first rock music which is meant to be sung and headbanged too in equal measure. But for all of their pop dynamics, BVB are a far more ballsy proposition that the likes of 30 Seconds To Mars or My Chemical Romance, alongside whom diehard metalheads regularly turn their noses up.

Because of their image, BVB are often termed ‘Goth Glam’. In truth, their sound owes next to nothing to either genre. It’s metal, stoopid: staccato riffs, shredding, and FTW attitude. Opener ‘The New Religion’ is straight out of Avenged Sevenfold territory, a poppier version of Metallica packed full with background vocal chants which are designed to make arenas hum with teen abandon. It’s a heck of a call to arms, and you can hear why a generation of 13-15 year olds see BVB as ‘their’ band. The title track is equally catchy – featuring a chorus awash with ‘woah-woah’ vocals, it sticks in your head like shit to a blanket; and ‘Fallen Angels’ is the sort of entry level metal (one foot in the mainstream, one in metal) which eases younger fans into the world of denim and leather. The number of classy, hook-laden tunes BVB possess is quite remarkable – ‘God Bless You’ has a big, fat riff; whilst ‘The Legacy’ and ‘Rebel Love Song’ are perfect anthemic hard rock songs for the 21st century.

If you’ve been listening to metal for years, none of this is going to change your life. But, then again, BVB are not trying to. Yeah, the lyrics are largely banal – the world ending heartache of ‘Die For You’ might make you smirk, but is the staid angst of much of the heavier end of metal any the less staged? This is a good time, feel good rock record that drips with the headrush of adrenalin we all get when we first discover the heavier side of life. In essence, BVB distill the essence of 30 years of heavy music and inject it into pop dynamics to make something which it is very, very hard to resist.

[binnie]

Beasto Blanco – Live Fast Die Loud (2013)

With an album cover which plays a shameless tribute to the sheer abandon of Ted Nugent’s ‘Free For All’, you just know that Beasto Blanco are going to be cooler than a penguin’s giblets. Led by Chuck Garric (of Alice Cooper, L. A. Guns and Dio fame) and it is quite a dirty little rock ‘n’ roller. Describing a band in 2014 as ‘classic rock’ or ‘hard rock’ usually means little more than ‘they’re just a poor clone of Led Zeppelin, The Ramones of AC/DC (delete as appropriate)’ but Beasto Blanco are more than that. Having a vibe indebted to the adrenalin of a garage band or a dirty, alley lay, they also recognize that you achieve an awful lot more from a rock ‘n’ roll record if you don’t just blast off at full speed ahead all of the time. Thus whilst ‘Beasto Blanco’ has all of the balls and attitude of a scuzzy rock band and sounds like Zodiac Mindwarp with Rob Zombie on vocals, the synth-laden ‘California’ has a very contemporary, chilled out vibe. Most refreshing of all, you get the sense that this is not a band posing in the rock ‘n’ roll life, but living it – ‘Blood Shot’ (think The Backyard Babies), ‘Motorqueen’ (the dirge metal of a hungry V8) and ‘Beg To Differ’ (a snarling pitbull) all rock like a whorehouse during happy hour.

If you’re looking for sophistication, look elsewhere. But if you’re looking for cheap thrills and lead in your pecker, come on in.

[binnie]

Steel Panther – All You Can Eat (2014)

On album number three, you get the sense that Steel Panther’s 15 minutes are fast running out. It’s not that ‘All You Can Eat’ isn’t a good record – or, indeed, that you doubt it’ll be right at the top of your IPOD playlist by the end of the year – it’s merely that whilst their parody of ‘80s metal is good – really, really good – at the third telling just about any joke loses its spice.

If you’ve heard the Panther before, you know what you’re getting: big riffs, the crudest and most expletive-laden, porn-drenched lyrics imaginable, and top-notch tunes by the bucketful. Opener ‘Pussywhipped’ – which begins, in an unusually subtle piss-take of the sheer pomposity of ‘80s metal bands, with an outlandishly out-of-place funereal acoustic intro – is perhaps the heaviest they’ve ever sounded and sets the tone for the misogyny which follows. When ‘All You Can Eat’ turns everything up to 11, it really kicks. ‘Gloryhole’ – which features a superb riff – is bound to become a live favourite (try as hard as you like, you’ll be singing ‘Blow my load at the gloryhole’ all day for weeks to cum, huhuhuhuhuhuhuhu); and ‘B.V.S’ is as good as anything on their first two records (and, naturally, hilarious). Elsewhere, however, things are a little turned down. The radio friendly ‘Party Like The Tomorrow Is The End Of The World’ could have actually been on a record released in 1987 which, in a sense is art imitating life, and perhaps a sign that someone somewhere thinks that Steel Panther have a wider commercial potential; and the preening ballad ‘The Burden Of Being Wonderful’, although a rather brilliant pastiche of Whitesnake, is a little tame by this band’s standards. There are also some missteps – ‘If I Was King’ and ‘You’re Beautiful When You Don’t Talk’, whilst far from filler, don’t feature jokes of quite the same calibre as the rest of this record.

Elsewhere, though, the quality is high. ‘Fucking My Heart In The Ass’ is a very well observed take on how utterly moronic most of the ‘Hair Metal’ bands’ lyrics were; and ‘Ten Strikes and You’re Out’ is probably a fairly accurate take on what most ‘relationships’ on Sunset Strip looked like (if jaded rock star biographies are anything to go by). But perhaps best of all is the utterly magnificent ‘Bukkake Tears’, a power ballad which made this reviewer actually howl with laughter. You sense that Steel Panther want to have their cake and eat it with the ‘irony’ of their crass sexism, but if this had been made by a collection of feminists, we’d call it satire – it really holds up the mirror to the ugly side of male sexuality. Oh, and it’s hilarious too.

But you know what the best joke of all is? Steel Panther’s songs are better written – and their albums are more consistent –than almost all of the bands who are the subject of their parody. Enjoy the ride while it lasts.

[binnie]

RSJ – Higgs Boson (2013)

Britain’s RSJ have released a debut album packed full of potential. At just 30 minutes in length, there is absolutely no fat here, just closely honed tunes delivered with passion and sincerity, words which this band clearly lives by. Their sound might best be described as hardcore infused and heavily influenced by The Dillinger Escape Plan – the songs are short and crisp, but feature multiple sections and are awash with a frenetic energy. ‘His Name Is Robert Paulson’ is a pounding opener; while ‘Collectively We Are Tall’ is indebted to another UK band, the chronically overlooked Earthrone 9. ‘Running With Scissors’ ranges from extreme metal to post-rock in 3 minutes, and the likes of ‘Cataracts’ and ‘I Did Not Die’ are genuinely affecting in a way that a great many post-Dillinger bands are not.
‘Higgs Boson’ is an appropriate title: this is a band with real ambition, writing songs with something to say.

[binnie]

Heart Of A Coward – Severance (2013)

If the quality of a band’s music correlated to their status in their given genre, then Britain’s Heart Of A Coward should be one of the Top Twenty Metal bands in the world at the moment. On album number two, HOAC have served up something very, very good indeed – taking the more technical end of the metal spectrum (based on the Meshuggah-esque riffing of djent) and turning it into compelling, ground rumbling anthems, ‘Severance’ has been created solely to kick your ass for weeks on end. Here those acrobatic time signatures and hulking riffs don’t sound angular – they sound vital, and that’s a term you can rarely apply in a Metal landscape populated by identikit Lamb Of God and metalcore wannabes. HOAC are part of the djent sound; but they’re not restricted or contained by it.

‘Monstro’ is exactly how metal should sound in 2014 – crushingly heavy yet well balanced, the band’s dynamics make songs like this feel more cinematic than their 3 or 4 minute duration should allow. Welded to a production with depth and poise, but not robbing the record of feel, these songs come alive. ‘Nausea’ is sloooow and monstrously heavy; ‘Dead Weight’ comes close to the bounce and bombast of Lamb Of God territory, but is infinitely more memorable than anything on the Virginian’s last disc; ‘Prey’ – which reminded this reviewer of late ‘90s killers Kilgore in places – has a HUGE chorus; whilst ‘Distance’ hints at the prog elements of fellow British talents Tesseract. But in truth, no-one else quite sounds like this dazzling display of progressive, yet immediate, Metal.

So often, ‘technical’ equates to nerdy naval gazing – here, however, it’s used to enhance to bubbling aggression which seethes in the hearts of all great metal bands. In Carl Ayers and Steve Haycock, HOAC have some serious six-string might. The riffs in ‘Mirrors’, ‘Eclipsed’ and ‘Desensitise’ approach Gojira-like Goddery. But it’s vocalist Jamie Graham who really steal the show – the growled vocal style is the hardest to make your own, but Graham does so with passion, charisma and an impressive set of lyrics. In doing so, he tops off a record of immense power, and one which serves up a different favourite track on every spin.

[binnie]

Santa Cruz – Screaming For Adrenalin (2013)

On the surface, Santa Cruz are unspeakably awful: Steel Panther with all of the crass but none of the irony, this is 1985 minus the reverb, filthy pop-laden rock ‘n’ roll that’s simpler than a Kardashian and possessed of half the attention span. But you just can’t help but like ‘em, in the same way you just can’t help getting a stiffy at the type of nasty porn that makes you feel guilty – it’s only natural that hooks as good as these will stick in your ears. The title track is Hanoi meets Motley; ‘Anthem For The Young & Restless’ is a snotty fistful of sleaze that makes you yearn for those 18 year old rock chicks that you used to know (it’s really, really good); ‘High On You’ is pure Warrant; whilst ‘Relentless Renegade’ is more coiffured that Liberace’s nutsack.

It’s undoubtedly the case that anything that engages in this type of etch-a-sketch nostalgia is creatively redundant, and some of the material here is naturally thinner than OJ’s defence (see ‘Sweet Sensation’ and ‘Loving You (Is just For Playing)’). But that was always part of the fun. On ‘Screaming For Adrenalin’, hair is flicked, planks are spanked, and political correctness is assigned to oblivion – this, boys and girls, is rock ‘n’ roll that way it used to be.

[ELVIS]

That way it used to be ??

I'm passing on this crap...

I can smell it through the review...

[binnie]

Black Label Society – Catacombs of the Black Vatican (2014)

At the turn of the millennium – when the world was gripped by baggy-pants wearing Nu Metal clowns – Black Label Society were vital, a breath of air not so much fresh as beer-infused, and blackened. Releasing albums which snarled, riffed and bludgeoned their way out of the speakers (see ‘Sonic Brew’ and ‘The Blessed Hellride’), Zakk Wylde’s gang of maurauderers made up for what they lacked in sophistication with metallic gusto. And then it all became a little silly. Investing in an increasingly ridiculous ‘biker’ image and over-relying of Wylde’s six-string pinache at the expense of actual songs (some tunes on BLS’s mid-career records might have well have just been one big pinch harmonic), Zakk Wylde became a parody of himself: The Bearded Squeak. Then the Squeak discovered the piano – and everything became a little……cluttered. Indeed, BlS’s last couple of records have inhabited a space somewhere between Ted Nugent and Barry Manilow – that is, a space that no-one would want to be.

It is a huge relief then, that ‘Catacombs…’ is so damn good. Gone is the over-reliance on pinch-harmonics; gone are the songs which are thinner than a model’s diet; and gone is the desire to join Crosby Stills and Nash. But it’s no return to the early days either. Opener ‘Fields Of Unforgiveness’ finds The Bearded Squeak’s normal metallic bluster filtered through some Alice In Chains melodies, a style which fits his growing vocal abilities. ‘My Dying Time’ is equally stunning, and features a blusesy riff which is one of the band’s best of recent years. The songs are – without exception – truly excellent. ‘Angel Of Mercy’ is delicate and sincere where most BLS ballads are trite and overblown, and may be the best softer song they’ve penned since ‘Spoke In The Wheel’ waaaaay back in 1999. But don’t be thinking that age and sobriety have neutered The Bearded Squeak – ‘Heart Of Darkness’, ‘Beyond The Down’ and ‘Damn The Flood’ are all heavier than Jabba The Hut’s first dump of the day. This is Heavy Metal, people. Plain, simple and glorious.

But there is a glitch: Wylde’s solos are not what they once were. Sure, he’s still an exceptional player, but there isn’t a lot here that’s memorable. And on songs this fine, that’s a crying shame.

[binnie]

That way it used to be ??

I'm passing on this crap...

I can smell it through the review...

Well, it IS the way rock 'n' roll used to sound, in the same way that Ratt, Warrant and WASP are the way that rock 'n' roll used to sound. I'm glad you picked up on the 'this may not be for you' warning....

[Von Halen]

Black Label Society – Catacombs of the Black Vatican (2014)

At the turn of the millennium – when the world was gripped by baggy-pants wearing Nu Metal clowns – Black Label Society were vital, a breath of air not so much fresh as beer-infused, and blackened. Releasing albums which snarled, riffed and bludgeoned their way out of the speakers (see ‘Sonic Brew’ and ‘The Blessed Hellride’), Zakk Wylde’s gang of maurauderers made up for what they lacked in sophistication with metallic gusto. And then it all became a little silly. Investing in an increasingly ridiculous ‘biker’ image and over-relying of Wylde’s six-string pinache at the expense of actual songs (some tunes on BLS’s mid-career records might have well have just been one big pinch harmonic), Zakk Wylde became a parody of himself: The Bearded Squeak. Then the Squeak discovered the piano – and everything became a little……cluttered. Indeed, BlS’s last couple of records have inhabited a space somewhere between Ted Nugent and Barry Manilow – that is, a space that no-one would want to be.

It is a huge relief then, that ‘Catacombs…’ is so damn good. Gone is the over-reliance on pinch-harmonics; gone are the songs which are thinner than a model’s diet; and gone is the desire to join Crosby Stills and Nash. But it’s no return to the early days either. Opener ‘Fields Of Unforgiveness’ finds The Bearded Squeak’s normal metallic bluster filtered through some Alice In Chains melodies, a style which fits his growing vocal abilities. ‘My Dying Time’ is equally stunning, and features a blusesy riff which is one of the band’s best of recent years. The songs are – without exception – truly excellent. ‘Angel Of Mercy’ is delicate and sincere where most BLS ballads are trite and overblown, and may be the best softer song they’ve penned since ‘Spoke In The Wheel’ waaaaay back in 1999. But don’t be thinking that age and sobriety have neutered The Bearded Squeak – ‘Heart Of Darkness’, ‘Beyond The Down’ and ‘Damn The Flood’ are all heavier than Jabba The Hut’s first dump of the day. This is Heavy Metal, people. Plain, simple and glorious.

But there is a glitch: Wylde’s solos are not what they once were. Sure, he’s still an exceptional player, but there isn’t a lot here that’s memorable. And on songs this fine, that’s a crying shame.

I love this album.

Keep in mind, some of the soloing you are missing, might be because the Evil Twin Nick Catanese is no longer in the band.

[binnie]

Maybe, although I was under the impression that Beardy Squeak did the solos.

It's a minor glitch though - it's a good album. One I've played over and over, which hasn't happened with a BLS record for a long, long time....

[ELVIS]

I've never even made it through one...

[binnie]

I think that 'Sonic Brew' (1999) is a really, really good record. 'The Blessed Hellride' also rules.....

[Von Halen]

Book Of Shadows is brilliant!

Mafia is a killer album!

Fuck you haters!

[ELVIS]

I'm not a hater...

It's just that when I hear BLS it sounds like Ozzy should be handling the vocals and then it grows tired...

[78/84 guy]

I think that 'Sonic Brew' (1999) is a really, really good record. 'The Blessed Hellride' also rules.....

But that's about all you need from BLS. It all starts too sound the same. I quit buying after Hellride.

[Von Halen]

I quit buying after Hellride.

Yeah, and you're still buying Bon Jovi instead!

You've missed a lot of good stuff!

[vandeleur]

I am gonna check this out solely due to binnie saying beardy squeak ..... Fucking awesome

[binnie]

Book Of Shadows is brilliant!

Mafia is a killer album!

Fuck you haters!

'Book Of Shadows' is great (but it's not a BLS record) .

'Mafia', '1919 Eternal' and a couple of BLS records are all decent enough, but they lack the spark that some of the best stuff has.....

[binnie]

Just checked, and I reviewed 'Order Of The Black' on page 3 of this thread......

[binnie]

Winery Dogs – Winery Dogs (2013)

Wow! A Mike Portney project not named Dream Theater that doesn’t suck. Alongside virtuoso drummer Portney, the dogs also feature virtuoso bassist (and fan of leather pants) Billy Sheenan and virtuoso guitar player Ritchie Kotzen, so you know what this is going to sound like, right? A big ol’ plank-spank fest. Wrong! Here, ladies and gentlemen, is a damn fine hard rock record based on songs, hooks and quality riffs. Opener ‘Elevate’ features Kotzen’s remarkable funk-rock guitar and introduces to his equally remarkable, Cornell-esque, voice (see, in particular, ‘Damaged’). Despite the talent on display here, the chops never overpower the blues/soul/gospel base of the songs, but, by the same token, those base-ingredients never result in this being just another blues-rock record. There are a lot of bands who make music which is the equivalent of a bell-bottomed whore covered in more nostalgia-jizz than a fat chick at a bukkake party, but Winery Dogs have taken those classic influences and made something very relevant. ‘Desire’ lays a Black Crowes melody over a Prince-esque funk-rock, whilst ‘We Are One’ and ‘Not Hopeless’ sound like this band and no one else. And the songs are stella, too. ‘I’m No Angel’, for instance, is a delicate song featuring some shimmering fractured blues licks that will tear your heart out and give it back to you bruised but better. ‘Time Machine’ (my song of the month) is a slippery little headfuck of a tune, whilst ‘The Dying’ is like molten emotion raining from the sky.

Loose, groove-laden, but with plenty of rawk bite along the way, this is a band with legs. Thank the lord for Ritchie Kotzen!

[binnie]

I should apologise to Vandeleur for that one taking me so long to do.....

[vandeleur]

Great review

[vandeleur]

Tho make take a while to get the fat chick at a bukkake party images out my head

[binnie]

Well, your mum does strike quite a pose

[vandeleur]

Right , I want the pics back

[binnie]

From the vaults: Machine Head – Supercharger (2001)

The moment when one of your favourite bands makes an album of unimaginable shitness; when a metal band of unbelievable power dilutes their sound to try and jump on the current (Nu Metal) zeitgeist and ultimately makes a steaming pile of tepid, substanceless drivel. ‘Burn My Eyes’ (1994), Machine Head’s debut album, is a bonafide classic: muscular, caustic, and unlike anything that came before it, it was as important as anything Pantera released at their peak. It’s successor, ‘The More Things Change’ (1997), whilst by no means as consistent, was nevertheless a hulking morass and riffs and aggression; and even when, on ‘The Burning Red’ (1999), Robb Flynn and co. decided to dabbled with baggy pants, hip hops beats and (gulp!) rapping, the results were at least delivered with fire in the belly and a couple of punky, venomous tunes. And then someone at Roadrunner decided that Machine Head could sell a fuck-load of records – trying to go Nu Metal and keep the aggressiveness of their street cred left ‘Supercharger’ an absolute mess.

You get the sense that in Ahrue Lustre, the bands lead guitar player on this and ‘The Burning Red’, Machine Head had hired a man who didn’t really have any interest in heavy music. He fills these songs with Morrello-esque ‘interesting’ noises, which detract from the drive they otherwise possess. Equally unfocussed are Flynn’s vocals – he sounds like a man floundering around for a new style and missing at every grasp. ‘White Knuckle Blackout’ is second-rate Nu Metal, a bouncy riff, soft/heavy dynamics, and Korn(y) guitar scratches; ‘Only The Names’ is 6 minutes of aimless soft/heavy dynamics looped to the point of tedium and is perhaps the only point in their career that Machine Head have ever sounded dull; ‘All Is Your Head’ could have been on the first Limp Bizkit record; and the bouncy pop-metal rebellion and staid angst of ‘American High’ was clearly a calculated ploy to hit the frat boy market. On ‘Blank Generation’ Machine Head fall into the trap that Motely Crue made on their first disc – borrowing from a range of sounds they think are hip and end up sounding like a mish-mash of all of them. But it’s more than the songs. What is really lacking is the one that Machine Head usually deliver in droves: the wrenching conviction that makes their best work compelling.

There are some diamonds amidst the diarrhoea, however. ‘Bulldozer’ is a brutal, groove-laden metal which could be at home on any of the band’s other albums; and, conversely, ‘Crashing Around You’ could have been a bonafide radio hit had it not been for the fact it was released on 9/11. Long forgotten tunes like ‘Trephination’ (damn! What a riff!) and ‘Kick You When You’re Down’ are hyper-fast punk/thrash assaults on the senses. If the whole record had taken this hardcore approach, it could have been interesting – as it stands, this is a clunker of truly appalling proportions. The band were dropped by their US label shortly after, and it sent them spiralling back to the snarling underdog status that made them so loveable. And – thank fuck – they’ve never looked back since.

[binnie]

From the Vaults: Raven – Nothing Exceeds Like Excess (1988)

Album number 7 for New Wave Of British Heavy Metal scallywags Raven found the band embracing the Thrash metal which they had helped to influence (they are often overlooked in the history of that genre). This was certainly a sensible move from Raven – Thrash was at its peak in ’88 – but it was not a cynical one, because like all Raven records what defines ‘Nothing….’ above everything else is the sheer, unbridled sense of FUN which drips from the speakers. It’s heavy, certainly, but the songs are injected with more than a little nod-and-wink humour, the sense of lads about town, if you will. That is not to say, however, that Raven were a bunch of jokers – the songs here were impressive, and the performance was packed with a God Almighty amount of heaviness. Mark Gallagher’s riffing was up there with anyone’s in the ‘80s, and the arrangements are surprisingly progressive in places. But it’s the power the stands out: guitars scream, vocals strain and it all feels like it could fall off the tracks at any given moment, but it’s ALIVE, and you just can’t over-analyse or over-complicated something that feels this vital. ‘Die For Allah’ was near the knuckle even in ’88, but that fact it has hooks most thrashers would kill for makes it instantly loveable, and reminds us that Raven were truly overlooked in their time. ‘Into The Jaws Of Death’ makes more than a passing nod to Diamond Head, while the blue-collar heroes (a la Saxon) of ‘Gimmie A Break’, ‘Hard As Nails’ and ‘Kick Your Ass’ are in your face and screaming to be listened to. It may not have has quite the charm of Raven’s early records, but ‘Nothing….’ was still the sound of a very, very good band in the form of their life.

[binnie]

Nine Inch Nails – Hesitation Marks (2013)

Trent Reznor is the Van Morrison of his generation – a musician who releases album after album of incredible quality, each of which manages to be both markedly
different from its predecessor and yet still sound like no-one else, and most of which are chronically over-looked by the music media/public at large. ‘Hesitation Marks’ continues that story: a slow-burning record which is rarely marked by the angst-ridden, big chorus moments which defined NIN’s ‘90s output, but sees Reznor exploring in greater depth the electronica of the ‘80s which has always influenced his sound so heavily (much of the material here would not have sounded out of place on the UK underground in 1983). Indeed, this is a largely guitar-free affair in which the songs are stripped-back to their skeleton. The effect is haunting, sparse and leaves room for Reznor’s vocals to take centre-stage. Repeated listens result in a form of hypnosis: it’s like staring into the soul of the beast.
Opener ‘Copy Of A’ showcases the darkened electronica which harks back to ‘Pretty Hate Machine’ (1989) and is the sort of anti-hymn Reznor built his career on.

But these moments of self-reflection are rare – this is a record of staggering variety. ‘Satellite’, for instance, could be the backing music to a Hip Hop record while, conversely, on ‘All Time Low’ Reznor’s electronica tapestry is almost symphonic. ‘Came Back Haunted’ has its melodies which sharpen its intensity to feverpitch, and the liks of ‘Various Methods of Escape’ and ‘I Would For You’ compete with the best material he’s ever produced in their presentation of yearning and writhing emotion in ways which only he can do. The sense of menace is present throughout – the stripped-back nature of the arrangements leads to an album pulsating with claustrophobia, fear and suppressed desire and violence.

‘Hesitations Marks’ is not a record you’ll love on first listen. But perseverance yields the marks of genius it contains.

[binnie]

Sebastian Bach – Give ‘em Hell (2014)

The 3rd studio album proper from Sebastian Bach is easily his best yet. Where the thrashy metal of ‘Angel Down’ (2007) and the straight hard rock of ‘Kicking and Screaming’ (2011) had there moments, even the biggest Bach fans would have to admit that those records were inconsistent. Not so ‘Give ‘em Hell’. Using producer Bob Marlette once again, Bach stays clear of the post-Pantera type of metal he experimented with on ‘Angel Down’ and treats us to a more beefed-up, metallic version of the hard rocking grooves he served up on ‘Kicking and Screaming’. The sound is raw and heavy, and Bach has brought some – ahem – big guns to lend a helping hand: Duff McKagan, John 5 and Steve Stevens lend the talents and co-author many of the tunes. The result is some very, very impressive tunes. Opener ‘Hell Inside My Head’ is a barnstormer. It also showcases what makes ‘Give ‘em Hell’ refreshing – where so many of his contemporaries try to pretend it’s still 1989, Bach is making records which sound contemporary, and has modified aspects of his game (like the vocal melodies). ‘All My Friends Are Dead’ is big rock, with big hooks and big vocals – but it wouldn’t sound out of place on a Black Veil Brides or Avenged Sevenfold record. ‘Harmony’ has a scuzzy, punk vibe and chorus which flat out kills – in a fair world it’d be a radio hit; ‘Temptation’ has a dark tone underneath its maniacal bounce; ‘Disengaged’ is heavy enough to crack boulders; and ‘Gun To A Knife Fight’ – as the title suggests – is badass.

There are still a few clunkers, of course. The S&M story behind ‘Dominator’ is a rare moment of cliché, and the country-tinged cover of April Wine’s ‘Rock ‘N’ Roll Is a Vicious Game’ is unconvincing. But those are rare moments in an otherwise impress record. Bach’s vocals may not be what they were in 1991, but he’s developed a style which focusses on melody rather than out and out power. It works for him, and ‘Hell Inside My Head’ may be the best record made by any of the survivors of the ‘Hair Metal’ era in the last ten years.

[binnie]

Satyricon – Eponymous (2013)

Most Black Metal bands fluff their sound with layers and layers of music – keyboards, atmospherics, screamed vocals – which can result in whoosh of music which is both overwhelming and melodramatic to the point of cheese. Not so Satyricon, who ask what the listener can do without. Take horror movies as a comparison: if most Black Metal is the slasher/gore end of the spectrum, Satyricon is the suspense thriller. The result is something less, but yet more powerful.

That being said, ‘Satyricon’ will prove a controversial album in some circles, with many hardcore fans bemoaning the absence of the band’s outright rage and fury. To these ears, however, Satyricon have developed in a manner parallel to Opeth – they are a metal band, but also much, much more, and manage to tap into something otherworldly which lays at the heart of Scandinavia’s darkened beauty. Instrumental opener ‘Voice Of Shadows’ is grand, majestic and ominous; ‘Tro Og Kraft’ is a piece of music of scorching beauty which nurses Paradise Lost’s spartan gothic landscapes of chiselled riffs; and ‘Phoenix’ – which features clean vocals – has points of contact with Anathema or even Jeff Buckley shot through with Nordic twists.

Is it Satyricon’s best record? It certainly doesn’t define their sound. But in a sense, that is the wrong question. You sense that – like Opeth’s ‘Heritage’ (2012) – Satyricon’s decision to move beyond the boundaries of genre which they were so pivotal in founding will undermine the impact of the music which they produce. That, in essence, is a reaction from the fans which prioritises style over substance. And that is precisely the opposite of what metal should be about.

[binnie]

The Pretty Reckless – Going To Hell (2014)

I have no idea what ‘Gossip Girl’ is, so the fact that The Pretty Reckless frontwoman Taylor Momson was in it means exactly fuck all to me. That being said, when you read ‘TV starlet’ goes rock’ you can’t help but have preconceptions. You expect it to be fake. You expect it to be hype. You expect it to be Paramore. You expect it to be anything but what this maelstrom of ass kicking record is. You read it here first: The Pretty Reckless rock as hard as any band out there.
Nothing is over-produced, dressed up or recorded by record company committee. And the band draw their sound from a far wider range of sources than the usual run-of-the-mill ‘Classic Rock’ acts. You’ll hear stoner, garage and indie amidst the hard rocking thunder, but it’s all unified by Momsen’s raucous vocals and on-stage femme fatal persona. ‘Follow Me Down’ is a sleazy tale of female predatory sex which features a rolling riff and is awash with scorching attitude; ‘Going To Hell’ is a scuzzy barnstormer which sits at the cusp between rock and metal; and ‘Heaven Knows’ (the lead single) is a stomping slice of teen rebellion on-par with a peak Joan Jett. Sure, there are some mediocre moments (see the grungy ballad ‘House On A Hill’ or the faux Dylan of ‘Waiting For My Friend’), but the overall effect if a kick to the gut.

Lyrically, it’s all the clichés you’d expect from such tales of bad-assery. Momson plays the fallen woman well, and her vocals are often incredible (see ‘Burn’) – but when she truly opens up and does something organic, as she does on the PJ Harvey/Audioslave hybrid of ‘Blame Me’, she hints at the bucketloads of talent which this band contains.

This record is crack for the ears.

(Disclaimer: my comments on this album were influenced in no way by the fact that Ms. Momsen appears nekkid on the cover; or that it opens with the sound of an orgasm. I’d never be so easily led……)

[Coyote]

Sure, Mr. "Roth Army Hit-man"...

[Jack68]

From Going back home with Wilko Johnson. Just had a chance to listen to the record and it is very good. I think it was recorded in a week or so. Now if Townshend could go into the studio with the touring band and do this id be happy.

[78/84 guy]

Yeah, and you're still buying Bon Jovi instead!

You've missed a lot of good stuff!

No. Black Stone Cherry. Still heavy but with a better singer.

[Von Halen]

I like Black Stone Cherry.