Album Reviews

[binnie]

From the vaults: Marilyn Manson – Antichrist Superstar (1996)

There was a period in the mid-90s where Marilyn Manson was ubiquitous – loathed, loved, discussed, debated, over-played and much more, whether you ‘got it’ or not you had to admit that he (and his music) was interesting if nothing else. It was also considerably more colourful than metal traditionally had been, and more gratingly offensive, too – you don’t have to agree with what MM says to appreciate that he was deadly serious and keen to provoke thought as much as ire. Where much metal traditionally thrived on anger, the likes of ‘Beautiful People’ and ‘Irresponsible Hate Anthem’ had something to say about the modern Western world – it wasn’t pretty, but you could dance to it. That’s a difficult balance to maintain.

The purest metal heads bewailed the lack of guitar solos and overuse of atmospherics, and were uncomfortable with the extensiveness of much of the introspection – the mainstream, of course, labelled him a ‘freak’ and simply closed their eyes and minds. Both had missed his point, despite ‘The Beautiful People’ thrusting it in their faces. Is it metal? Not in the traditional sense, certainly. Manson’s song-writing essentially took elements from the alternative bands of the ‘80s, filtered them through a tortured industrial soundscape and layered them over with scuzzy guitars: it is indebted much more to Depeche Mode than Black Sabbath, and the presence of Trent Reznor here creates a sound indebted to a period in which N.I.N had opened up metal’s sonic palette considerably – ‘Wormboy’ is really an inverted pop song (saccharine hooks gone sour, you might say), ‘Deformography’ is pure Gary Numan, and the visceral ‘Dried Up, Tied And Dead To The World’ is sort of dystopian prayer which Killing Joke perfect 15 years earlier. In the mid-90s this all sounded vibrant and vital – other worldly, even – but a generation on it has hard to trace Manson’s influence in the current metal scene (you could say the same of Korn).

Is that because it was all a fad or that the music was substanceless? Some of it was certainly 2D – ‘Little Horn’ was really just sub-par N.I.N, whilst ‘Mister Superstar’ demonstrated that even at his peak MM had a remarkable capacity for unintentional self-parody. But this was evidence of the need for editing – Reznor and Manson clearly thought they could make a N.I.N epic where MM is better suited to short, sharp blasts – than of a lack of depth. Indeed, there is some devastating music here. The title track is propelled by a big, fat, fuck off riff and an ugly groove that was MM at his best. ‘1996’ is furious punk rock. ‘The Reflecting God’ takes soft/heavy dynamics to tortuous limits via bursts of filthy scuzzed out guitars. And you don’t have to want to listen to MM to appreciate that – at this stage in his career, at least – he really meant it. Take ‘Tourniquet’, for instance:

She's made of hair and bone and little teeth
and things that cannot speak
she comes on like a crippled plaything
her spine is just a string

I wrapped our love in all this foil
Silver tight like spider legs
I never wanted it to ever spoil
but flies will always lay their eggs

Take your hatred out on me
Make your victim my head
You never ever believed in me
I am your tourniquet

Prosthetic synthesis and butterfly
Sealed up with virgin stitch
If it hurts baby please tell me
Preserve the innocence
I never wanted it to end like this
But flies will lay their eggs

Take your hatred out on me
Make your victim my head
You never ever believed in me
I am your tourniquet

What I wanted, what I needed
What I got for me
What I wanted, what I needed
What I got for me

Take your hatred out on me
Make your victim my head
You never ever believed in me
I am your tourniquet

Fuuuuck, that’s a dark piece of art.

‘Anti-Christ Superstar’ is not MM’s best record – ‘Mechanical Animals’ and ‘Hollywood’ are much more complete and focussed pieces of work. But it is, perhaps, the best encapsulation of his oeuvre. Dark, twisted, somewhat pretentious and wilfully unconventional, this was – and is – a furious clutch of demented blackened pop.

[binnie]

Corrosion of Conformity – Eponymous

A band who since their inception in the early ‘80s have changed their line-up more than Axl Rose does his wardrobe in a G’N’R gig, in 2012 they’re back to the 3 piece formation of Mike Dean, Woodroe Weatherman and Reed Mullin which made the classic blues-tinged hardcore maelstrom ‘Animosity’ and ‘Technocracy’. That will inevitably raise the eyebrows of fans of C.O.C best known records – the unbelievably heavy riff-shitting behemoths ‘Deliverance’, ‘Wiseblood’ and ‘In The Arms of God’. But whilst Pepper Keenan is doing his thing in Down, this is the C.O.C we have.

And it’s quite a blast. Rawer, lesser composed and more elemental than they are with Keenan, on opener ‘Psychic Vampire’ C.O.C serve up primordial metal into hardcore. ‘Leeches’ is a furious firebrand of rawk, whilst the gacacacagacacaca riffage of ‘River of Stone’ is gargantuan enough to make Thor run crying to his mommy. The trademark hooks are here, as are the quirky time changes. Much more free-form as a 3-piece than a 4-piece, this is an under-stated, lo-fi and live feeling record which has the whiff of a jam room about it and is heavy in a refreshing way – not the frantic hypnosis and staccato overload of extreme metal, but to gut-wrenching clout of a sonic boom. Just listen to ‘The Doom’ and you’ll FEEL it.

The fact that each member takes his turn singing suggests that C.O.C acknowledge that something is missing in their current line-up (just as they inevitably did in the late 80s/early 90s when they began experimenting with a 4 piece line up). In truth, Pepper Keenan brought this band more than songwriting craft – he brought them cohesion and charisma. Hopefully, we’ll get a reformation of the ‘Deliverance’-‘In The Arms of God’ line-up in the future. Until then, we have this, which is certainly not second best – only a fool would suggest that every one of these tunes of ‘A’ grade, but there’s enough raw bloody power here to kick you into smiling like the cat that got the cream.

[binnie]

Prong – Carved Into Stone

There is a scene in ‘Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels’ when one mobster walks into a tanning lounge frequented by a ‘client’ who owes him money, hurls open the sunbed door and punches said ‘client’ square on the nose: ‘Hello. Fuck You’. That power – blunt, direct, and yet oddly captivating – pretty much sums up Prong, a band whose imprint on modern heavy music far outweighs their respect. Tommy Victor’s brand of heaviness was never about overkill, overdrive or hyperbole – it was about hitting you and leaving you hit, bug slabs of riffs, discordance and groove owning you for 45 minutes. And, on ‘Carved Into Stone’ – their 8th record – Prong are back. This is easily their best record since 1996’s ‘Rude Awakening’.

If you were to write a list of the most unique riff writers in rock/metal, Victor would be near the top – like Paige Hamilton, say, or Tom Morrello, you KNOW it’s a Victor riff instantaneously. The one that propels the title track to this record has so many balls it has begun to sprout hairs, and it has a few rivals on the bollockometer elsewhere on this record, too. ‘State Of Rebellion’ is the classic Prong grin injected into some bitching metal, whilst ‘List Of Grievances’ will make you want to burn the world and ‘Revenge Best Served Cold’ is a track which could genuinely rival some of Prong’s classic material – it’s that rippingly heavy. But that’s not to call ‘Carved Into Stone’ a throwback record – all the elements of Prong’s DNA may be here, but there’s been some evolution too. Victor has branched out a little into the world of more traditional hard rock (especially in the hooks), and on moments like the tingling dystopian beauty of ‘Path of Least Resistance’ we are treated to something almost hymnal in its melodic beauty. Elsewhere, many of the harmonies evoke latter-day Voivod. Lyrically, Victor is more reflective and optimistic than outright aggressive, although ‘Put Myself To Sleep’ and the glorious punk of ‘Subtract’ will still your head in. Indeed, the daily grind has rarely been given a kicking as excessive as it receives on ‘Keep On Living In Pain’.

Steve Evetts no nonsense production is the perfect complement to Prong’s uncluttered sound. The vibe here is crunchy, sparse and brutal. This is certainly not Prong’s best record, but it’s a better record than most bands ever make. Eleven distinct and distinctive songs which sees an old band kicking the shit out of their sound. Your soul will bleed for more.

[binnie]

From the vaults: Architects – Hollow Crown (2008)

18 months ago Architects threw fans a curve ball to end all curve balls in ‘The Here & The Now’. It wasn’t a bad record by any means, it’s just that it was so…….conventional in its take on post-hardcore, all soft/heavy, soft/heavy and staid angst. Listening back to ‘Hollow Crown’, you have to wonder: why? Why make a record that’s so close to everyone else when you can do THIS.

Indeed, there’s a moment in opener ‘Early Grave’ where I literally exclaimed: ‘fuuuuuuck’. The band switches from a rolling death of a groove into a delicate melodic passage and the some serious thrash riffage – all in 30 seconds, and without sounding disjointed. That would be incredible for any band, let alone on as young as this British 5 piece. Like many post Dillenger Escape Plan bands, Architects hurl together a fuck of a lot of music into one song – tracks spasm and fit from part to part in a sound which is wilfully angular – but unlike most of those bands, Architects keep it all together which melodies. Big, gripping melodies. The result is the ability to make something epic in 4 minutes by adopting a pick ‘n’ mix approach to musical history – we get elements of hardcore, rock, extreme metal all churned into one unholy sonic alloy. Indeed, ‘Numbers Count For Nothing’ sounds a little Fugazi would have if they’d owned more Sabbath records.

Unlike so many post-hardcore bands, the lyrics are not some tired – and trite – angst ridden whinge fest. They’re real, and not over-bearing. Indeed, if anyone thinks that post-hardcore infused metal is limp-wristed, check out ‘Borrowed Time’ – which is like being tossed around a room by a silver back – or the sheer bloody menace of ‘One of These Days’. Brutal, but never over-bearing; extreme, but always powerful. Is everything ‘A’ grade? No – ‘In Elegance’ is a little characterless, and the title track explores the softer side which has always been Architects Achilles heel – but the lesser points are few and far between. Indeed, when confronted with the crushing sympathy of heaviness which is ‘Left With A Last Minute’, you’ll quickly forget the grey moments here.

If Architects can decide what band they want to be, they are more than capable of making a classic record – perhaps THE classic British record – of the heavy scene for this generation. As it stands they’ll always serve up albums full of great tunes, and that’s certainly something we should be grateful for.

[binnie]

From the vaults: Exodus – Impact is Imminent (1990)

I’m pretty sure that if you cut Gary Holt in half he would read ‘THRASH’ through and through. Despite patchy recent albums and multiple line-ups, it is crucial that we remember one metal’s greatest bands and unheralded guitarists – who has more crunch in their bite than Holt. ‘Impact….’ – Exodus’s fourth album – emerged at a time when thrash, in its first form at least, was running out steam. All of the hallmarks are here: demented speed, unrelenting aggression, cartoon lyrics, gang vocals, sic soloing and a sound rawer than a camel’s arse. But in the same year that Megadeth changed the game with the ultra-technical ‘Rust In Piece’, Exodus sounded positively naïve in comparison. Add into that the emergence of Death Metal and grindcore, and the future as the Bay Area knew it was numbered.

That being said, there are some gems here. ‘A.W.O.L’ has a granite guitar tone, and ‘Lunatic Parade’ is propelled by the sort of riff that makes you shit a brick and ‘Within the Walls of Chaos’ is an appropriately named crushing metal behemoth. By the time you get to ‘Changing of the Guard’ your head is swirling ‘fuuuuuuuuuck’. Sure, it’s no ‘Bonded By Blood’ or ‘Pleasures of the Flesh’, but ‘Impact Is Imminent’ could kick your ass and take your name nevertheless.

But you sense that Exodus – for all their importance at the inception of thrash – were left behind by the ‘Big 4’ simply because they couldn’t develop beyond their template. They never matured as songwriters. Here we have jovial lyrics and overlong choruses, the latter making the songs feel plodding and ponderous. In the face of such raw power, this is all forgivable – but it is noticeable. Slayer, Testament, Anthrax and Megadeth all stepped up their levels of finesse, and Metallica had their eyes set on stadiums. But Exodus, all they cared about was the pit. Take ‘Thrash Under Pressure’:

WITH MY HEAD HELD HIGH
STANDING DIGNIFIED
I HAVE MY INTEGRITY
NEVER GIVE AN INCH AND I NEVER FLINCH
WHEN CAME TO MY LOALTY
100% ALL OUT NOTHING LESS
AGGRESSIVE, RELENTLESS AND MEAN
WHEN THE CHIPS ARE DOWN
YOU'LL NEVER SEE US FROWN
YOU'LL ONLY SEE US


THRASH UNDER PRESSURE !


You can almost smell it.

[Dave's Bitch]

From the vaults: Exodus – Impact is Imminent (1990)

I’m pretty sure that if you cut Gary Holt in half he would read ‘THRASH’ through and through. Despite patchy recent albums and multiple line-ups, it is crucial that we remember one metal’s greatest bands and unheralded guitarists – who has more crunch in their bite than Holt. ‘Impact….’ – Exodus’s fourth album – emerged at a time when thrash, in its first form at least, was running out steam. All of the hallmarks are here: demented speed, unrelenting aggression, cartoon lyrics, gang vocals, sic soloing and a sound rawer than a camel’s arse. But in the same year that Megadeth changed the game with the ultra-technical ‘Rust In Piece’, Exodus sounded positively naïve in comparison. Add into that the emergence of Death Metal and grindcore, and the future as the Bay Area knew it was numbered.

That being said, there are some gems here. ‘A.W.O.L’ has a granite guitar tone, and ‘Lunatic Parade’ is propelled by the sort of riff that makes you shit a brick and ‘Within the Walls of Chaos’ is an appropriately named crushing metal behemoth. By the time you get to ‘Changing of the Guard’ your head is swirling ‘fuuuuuuuuuck’. Sure, it’s no ‘Bonded By Blood’ or ‘Pleasures of the Flesh’, but ‘Impact Is Imminent’ could kick your ass and take your name nevertheless.

But you sense that Exodus – for all their importance at the inception of thrash – were left behind by the ‘Big 4’ simply because they couldn’t develop beyond their template. They never matured as songwriters. Here we have jovial lyrics and overlong choruses, the latter making the songs feel plodding and ponderous. In the face of such raw power, this is all forgivable – but it is noticeable. Slayer, Testament, Anthrax and Megadeth all stepped up their levels of finesse, and Metallica had their eyes set on stadiums. But Exodus, all they cared about was the pit. Take ‘Thrash Under Pressure’:

WITH MY HEAD HELD HIGH
STANDING DIGNIFIED
I HAVE MY INTEGRITY
NEVER GIVE AN INCH AND I NEVER FLINCH
WHEN CAME TO MY LOALTY
100% ALL OUT NOTHING LESS
AGGRESSIVE, RELENTLESS AND MEAN
WHEN THE CHIPS ARE DOWN
YOU'LL NEVER SEE US FROWN
YOU'LL ONLY SEE US


THRASH UNDER PRESSURE !


You can almost smell it.

Great review binnie.Love Exodus.I do miss the old H team but i dig the rob dukes stuff.They are both actually really nice guys too

[binnie]

Glad you likey.

Check out the review of 'Bonded By Blood' on page 7, post 249.

[binnie]

The Cult – Choice of Weapon

Several weeks ago I ran into THAT girl. You know, the one at school who dated (much) older guys, the one whose passing glance could inspire masturbatory fantasies for weeks on end, the one you would have dragged you dick across shards of broken glass just to touch. And it was devastating – she was still pretty, but she faded into the background rather than lit up the scene. 15 years had taken their toll, and the goddess had become mortal.

I write this, because the pang of disappointment - or, rather crushing resignation in the face of age – I felt in that moment was repeated upon playing this, album number 171 from The Cult (although, to be fair, Ian Ashbury and Billy Duffy were the inspiration of orgasms aural rather than literal). Despite the presence of some serious talent here – producers Bob Rock and Chris Goss, and drummer extraordinaire John Tempestra – the result is an album which is more perspiration than inspiration. It’s not bad by any stretch of the imagination – it’s just that they memory of the past haunts this album.

It certainly starts off well though. ‘Honey From A Knife’ is the heady brew of psychedelic rock ‘n’ roll which propelled The Cult to sonic Babylon stripped down to something elemental. Looser and more upbeat than on recent releases, they are on kill mode here. But following this with ‘Elemental Light’ we get to the heart of what makes this a problematic release: the quitter moments rob the record of any momentum making what is a relatively short album feel over long. On this and songs like ‘Life > Death’ The Cult sound lethargic, even whispy, a sort of gothic James Taylor in slippers. The harder moments add plenty of sizzle – ‘The Wolf’ recalls of howling riffage of the ‘Love’ era, the days when this band sounded like a jet-black Zeppelin; and the Bowie-esque ‘For The Animals’ sees Ashbury and Duffy goading each other into the night – but for every step up in momentum, there are two steps back.

It’s always unfair to expect bands to live up their heydays – or even try to. But it is fair to expect them to either evolve, or to at least deliver albums full of songs where they were all actually in the same room. And awake. The sad fact is that The Cult are better than this.

[fourthcoming]

Is it Just me or does most of what Bob Rock touches turn to shite?

[binnie]

It's not Bob Rock's fault - you can only polish turds so far.

They actually started working with Chris Goss (stoner rock guru), but that obviously didn't work and they brought Rock in to finish it. Personally, I'm a big fan of Bob Rock - has a metal record ever sounded better than the 'Black' record (colossal)? 'Sonic Temple' was fucking epic, too. That being said, he has a habit of changing bands - they always seem different with him.

In this particualr case, however, he's done the best with average material. This isn't a bad album - far from it - but it sounds tired and static in places. The Cult are (or at least were) better than that.

[fourthcoming]

Sonic Temple and Electric were damn fine albums....Love wasn't bad either. I had no idea the new album was so hit and miss...have not heard it. I couldn't agree with you more.....maybe I didn't give Bob Rock enough credit but you said it perfectly....he definitely has a tendency to change the bands sound he is working with.

[binnie]

Steel Panther – Balls Out

It’s only one joke. But it’s a bloody good one. What makes Steel Panther works – dick jokes aside – is the sheer cutting accuracy of their parody of ‘80s metal – the preening, maniachal self delusion, over sexed and over played glory of it all – and the fact that that parody is delivered through songs which are, quite frankly, superb. Indeed, perhaps the most cutting irony of it all is that ‘Balls Out’ and its predecessor ‘Feel The Steel’ are actually more consistently good than anything produced by most of the bands whom this band mock: did Motely Crue or Poison ever deliver a record that wasn’t half filler? You just can’t deny that ‘Just Like Tiger Woods’, ’17 Girls In A Row’ and ‘Tomorrow Night’ are great, great party tunes. And you’ll not get ‘em out of your head, either.

Perhaps ‘Balls Out’ is not quite as strong as ‘Feel The Steel’ – there is the law of diminishing returns at work here and a joke, no matter how good, is always most cutting on its first telling. But if you don’t laugh at ‘Weenie Ride’ then you are probably Vulcan. By the time I got half way through the power ballad ‘Why Can’t You Trust Me?’ I was doubled up with echoes of Motely Crue’s ‘Don’t Go Away Mad (Just Go Away)’ ringing in my head. In the modern metal scene fun is underrated: indeed, it speaks volumes that sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll can only be appreciated ironically. In one sense, that’s a shame. But in another, Steel Panther remind us that those bands – and the chronic sexism that they represented – are a well behind us. Well, unless you’re Vince Neil of course…….

[SunisinuS]

Steel Panther – Balls Out

It’s only one joke. But it’s a bloody good one. What makes Steel Panther works – dick jokes aside – is the sheer cutting accuracy of their parody of ‘80s metal – the preening, maniachal self delusion, over sexed and over played glory of it all – and the fact that that parody is delivered through songs which are, quite frankly, superb. Indeed, perhaps the most cutting irony of it all is that ‘Balls Out’ and its predecessor ‘Feel The Steel’ are actually more consistently good than anything produced by most of the bands whom this band mock: did Motely Crue or Poison ever deliver a record that wasn’t half filler? You just can’t deny that ‘Just Like Tiger Woods’, ’17 Girls In A Row’ and ‘Tomorrow Night’ are great, great party tunes. And you’ll not get ‘em out of your head, either.

Perhaps ‘Balls Out’ is not quite as strong as ‘Feel The Steel’ – there is the law of diminishing returns at work here and a joke, no matter how good, is always most cutting on its first telling. But if you don’t laugh at ‘Weenie Ride’ then you are probably Vulcan. By the time I got half way through the power ballad ‘Why Can’t You Trust Me?’ I was doubled up with echoes of Motely Crue’s ‘Don’t Go Away Mad (Just Go Away)’ ringing in my head. In the modern metal scene fun is underrated: indeed, it speaks volumes that sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll can only be appreciated ironically. In one sense, that’s a shame. But in another, Steel Panther remind us that those bands – and the chronic sexism that they represented – are a well behind us. Well, unless you’re Vince Neil of course…….

Lol love it.

[binnie]

It's about the only song featuring Chad Kroger I can stand

[binnie]

Firebird – Double Diamond

They hook you on the second play of ‘Soul Saviour’s’ chiselled riff. The soundtrack to a sunkissed night in 1970 at which everyone has toked a few, Firebird channel Humble Pie, the funkier end of Purple via a dollop of Sabbath and delivered clearly and with a whiff of the jam room. This is a rock riding a groove rather than kicking and screaming, and there’s a magic in its unapologetic simplicity. From the gallop of ‘For Crying Out Loud’ to the easy cool of ‘Lose Your Delusions’, the soul on display here is both charming and instils a sense of ease. As ‘Farewell’ demonstrates, if Firebird pushed the dynamics of their songs they might one day deliver a truly classic record. As it is, they give us album after album of beautifully played stone blues. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Indeed, on ‘A Wing And A Prayer’ – a homage to a band just playing despite the odds – you get the sense that this a band which exists simply to scratch the itch rather than change the world. And there’s a beauty in that, too