Binnie, love your reviews.. I never told you until today, so there you go.
Armored Saint just put out their BEST album since Symbol Of Salvation.. And that goes waaaaaay back...
Just curious about your thoughts about it..
Binnie, love your reviews.. I never told you until today, so there you go.
Armored Saint just put out their BEST album since Symbol Of Salvation.. And that goes waaaaaay back...
Just curious about your thoughts about it..
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About fucking time.Originally Posted by binnie
White metal is as corporate as any Katy Perry record. Difference being it's more comical.
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Are there any 'rock' genres that do not have any corporate elements in them? And does the fact that metals bands write their own tunes make them more artistically valid than Ms Perry?
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Yes Binnie, there is.
The study of geology for one:
"Geology is the study of the Earth, the materials of which it is made, the structure of those materials, and the processes acting upon them. It includes the study of organisms that have inhabited our planet. An important part of geology is the study of how Earth’s materials, structures, processes and organisms have changed over time."
And NO ONE is more artistically valid that Katy and her F A T ass.
From some shitty dime-a-dozen website:
Katy Perry Is the Modern Whore of Babylon
According to the Bible, the Whore of Babylon will be a woman who is the head of all prostitutes and harlots, who fornicates into infinity, and who will usher in a new world order. This woman will embody evil to her core and make it taste as sweet as candy. The Illuminati is currently preparing its takeover strategy, appointing those to be the Antichrist and the False Prophet, and dispatching its minions across the globe. One necessary role is the whore, and it's been filled by none the other than Katy Perry.
This despicable hussy of an artist spouts nothing but sex and salaciousness and appeals to our most vulnerable audience, kids and preteens. Just about every single song of hers promotes some kind of sick behavior. Whether it be experimenting with homosexuality or performing fellatio, Perry appears to have no shortage of obscene acts to promote. Her latest song, "Birthday", is all about a girl stripping down and enticing a guy to lick her genitals. If you don't believe us, then read the lyrics for yourself. They're nothing but filth.
Thighs so thick you can feel the gravy dripping off them
Perry's trash doesn't stop with sex either. Satanic references are a common theme too. In fact, "Dark Horse" might just be one of the most satanic songs ever released in pop culture. She actually refers to herself as a "beast". This is an obvious connection to the forthcoming apocalypse the Illuminati is preparing. As the Whore of Babylon, Katy Perry will be frequently making references to monsters. We're betting that she will soon be referring to an animal with seven heads. When that happens, we need to prepare, because the global onslaught is likely to follow."
Let's see one of your white metal acts top that. She beats the shit out of white metal any day. Apparently, Perry is Jewish. Who knew?
Last edited by Kristy; 06-19-2015 at 05:05 PM.
As it turns out, I fuckin' loved it!
__________________________________
Armored Saint – Win Hands Down (2015)
It is customary to hail every new Armored Saint record as ‘their best since “March of the Saints”’: this time, however, the praise is deserved. This is Heavy Metal at its very best, raw, unkempt and more than a little bit silly. There are crazy fills and duel-lead guitars; there are powerchords and hyper-machismo a-plenty; and all eyes are on power for its own sake. And for that reason, you just can’t help but love Armored Saint. This band should certainly have been more successful than they were, and that they weren’t is probably largely due to their having one foot in several musical genres without ever quite belonging to any. ‘Win Hands Down’ is thus part thrash, part pure metal, and part ‘70s hard rock – Joey Vera’s distinctive approach to writing remains true to form, and when boomed by John Bush’s muscular larynx his tunes stick in your head like shit to a blanket.
The title cut is a big, powerchord-led, punch-the-air anthem which will crush live. The metal keeps coming with the pure crunch of ‘That Was Then, Way Back When’ and ‘With A Hull Head of Steam’ (which features the soulful vocals of Pearl Addey). Elsewhere, things are a little less headbutt to the nose. ‘An Exercise In Debauchery’ is awash with groove, swagger and balls, and ‘Mess’ delivers metal on metal through swampy riffs and huge hooks. Perhaps best of all is the dynamic soup of ‘In An Instant’, a sweeping epic which showcases the range of references which Armored Saints bring to the table.
And that, ultimately, might be the key to Armored Saint’s success: their ability and willingness to grow. ‘Win Hands Down’ is completely irrelevant to metal in 2015. It doesn’t try to keep up with the kids; and, unlike so many of their 50-something peers, it isn’t a ‘thrash’ record which tries to pretend its 1987. Instead, it’s something far more potent: a band showing that they can write great tunes and having an absolute blast whilst doing so.
Everygrey – Hymns for the Broken (2014)
‘Hymns for the Broken’ is the ninth album from Sweden’s Everygrey and it may very well be their best. As with all Evergrey records, it isn’t a chirpy affair – this is a band which bleeds melancholy, misanthropy and ennui – but it is a stunning one. Injecting gothic elements into their expansive brand of progressive metal, these songs are sweeping displays of how much more powerful tone and soundscapes can be than absolute bluster. This is a slow burn, but music which is so beautifully tragic and poetically dark deserves the time it takes to truly appreciate.
‘The Fire’ and ‘A New Dawn’ is straight out of the Dream Theater school of prog metal, meaty riffs and taut rhythms meshed with stunning dynamics. What staggers most is the control which this band displays over its compositions – ‘Barricades’ and ‘Wake A Change’ display a mastery of intensity and melody, with songs rising and falling and breathing and pulsating to feel truly alive. Yet this band appreciates that complexity for its own sake is fruitless: ‘Missing You’, for example, is a simple and affecting piano-ballad. Henrik Danhage’s guitar does far more than shred, adding slashes and stabs of power and delicate lines as the songs required. And, as ever, Tom Englund’s wounded vocals are truly affecting. Sincere, honest and truly emotive, Englund’s vocals avoid the pitfalls of melodrama which so often taint the power of the more avant garde end of metal’s spectrum.
The past three Everygrey records – ‘Monday Morning Apocalypse’ (2006), ‘Torn’ (2008) and ‘Glorious Collison’ (2011) – have been solid rather than spectacular. ‘Hymns for the Broken’, however, is stunning from start to finish. ‘Thinking man’s metal’ is often evoked as a buzzkill, but this band demonstrates that for all its pretentiousness, the search for truth and perspective through music can be hugely award and affecting.
katina (07-28-2015)
Napalm Death – Aphex Predator: East Meat (2015)
Napalm Death really don’t care what you think, and you have to respect that. Arguably the band with the most honesty and integrity to emerge out of Britain in the past three decades, their politics hasn’t change and neither has their commitment to extremity as an artform. Indeed, although many would bemoan that the music they make is merely tuneless noise, those who get it understand that that noise is the perfect medium for the emotions and sentiments which the band aim to express. Teetering on the edge of listenability ‘Aphex Predator’ may well be: but that’s the entire point.
The title track starts with a teutonic industrial chant and then blasts into life bemoaning: a-political standing has essentially turned society into one large meat grinder. Its brutal; and they’re right. Where the band has dabbled with thrash metal, death metal, and anarcho punk over their career, here they embrace the grindcore which first made them. Consequently, many of the songs here clock in at around the two minute mark, warp-speed blasts of aural extremity which jolt you into life. None of the is surprising: you know that a Napalm Death record will be extreme. You also expect their records to be good, and in that sense Napalm Death are victims of their own high standards: on both fronts they can no longer thrill you as much as the initial shock did all of those years ago. Being genuinely subversive requires the elements of surprise, after all.
Even by their standards, however, ‘Aphex Predator’ is a furious record. Riff after riff after tortuous riff bludgeon your sense. The songs blur into one another with hypnotic effect, and you find yourself owned by the pure rage of it all. You’ll hear nothing more alive this year.
Tesseract will be releasing their new album Polaris on September 18th. !!!
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Binnie, the new album teaser is fantastic, and just today Tesseract launched "Messenger " track from Polaris.
binnie (08-03-2015)
Looking forward to Tesseract a great deal
Faith No More – Sol Invictus (2015)
If you were a fan of heavy music in the ‘80s, two bands grabbed you by surprise: Jane’s Addiciton and Faith No More. Both were unclassifiable, both were disturbing and captivating in equal measure, and both were heavy without ever really being metal. As such, the return of FNM after 18 years is both exciting and more than a little bit daunting. Reunion records usually end up disappointing: bands either try to recapture their youth (and fail); or try to sound relevant to the era in which they re-emerge (and sound old). On ‘Sol Invictus’, FNM have managed to avoid both pitfalls and have ultimately produced an album which is both entirely them and complete devoid of nostalgia. It is integrity incarnate.
What made FNM special was their ability to cram so many disparate styles of music into one unholy clusterfuck of cool. Little has changed in two decades, although the band is noticeably less angry than they once were: when the violence comes here – as it does on the angular spasms of ‘Rise Of the Fall’ – it comes in slashes and stabs rather than sustained attacks. ‘Superhero’ is the aggro ‘fuck you’ funk that you know and love, and sees the bands deliver a challenging take on the position of the US in the world. ‘Sunny Side Up’ sees FNM delve into Motown smooth grooves with more than a little dabble of cynicism, whilst the chilling ‘Cone of Shame’ veers into alt. country via the gothic world of Nick Cave. ‘Matador’ is pure B-Movie cool, waves of weirdness smashing into each other.
Many would undoubtedly have like the guitars to have been at the forefront here. In truth, however, the bass, drums and keys were always the driving force of FNM – guitars add textures, but they are somewhat infrequent on ‘Sol Invictus’. Another criticism might be that the record is a little one paced – for all the variety of styles, it feels longer than it actually is. But it would be churlish to criticise something this genuinely brilliant. Mike Bordin serves up those thunderous rhythms, and Mike Patton croons, wails, and screams his ways through layers and layers of vocal brilliance. Does it add to their legacy? No – there’s little here that this band hasn’t already done. But ‘Sol Invictus’ is a potent reminder of just how good the best band of their generation truly were.
Oh, and they called the first single ‘Motherfucker’. God bless you, sirs.
Megadeth – Dystopia (2016)
Dave Mustaine is the greatest guitar player in metal history. No arguments, please. Knocking out riff after classic riff, demented classic after ‘holy, fuck’, time-change driven demented classic, Megadave is a band by whom we have been spoilt, and come to expect the exceptional. Witness the brilliance of late-career highs like ‘United Abominations’ (2007) and ‘Endgame’ (2009): how many other bands deliver records of that focussed ferocity in their third decade? The problem with being a legend, however, is that displays of mediocrity are met outrage. Thus Megadeth’s last two records – ‘Thirteen’ (2012), which was patchy, and ‘Supercolider’ (2014), which was one of those ‘WTF?’ moments where Mustaine decides that Megadeth should be a rock band first and a metal band second – were met with a fair degree of disdain. Not disasters, but we expect more from the gods.
Following another line-up change – guitar wizard extraordinaire Chris Broderick has been replaced by guitar wizard extraordinaire Kiko Loureiro; and atomic-clock like drummer Glen Drover has been replaced by atomic-clock like drummer (and Lamb Of God sticksman) Chris Adler – Megadeth are back with record no. 15. ‘Dystopia’ certainly answers some fans’ prayers: it is noticeably thrashier than the previous two records; there is an awful lot of the shred-magic which is part of this bands’ trademark; and from second 1 it is angrier than a Mike Tyson who has just woken up by being kicked in the balls. Opener ‘The Threat Is Real’ is a thrasher of pure vitriol which is good enough to sit on any of Megadeth’s records. Balancing brutality and precision, sinewy riffs knife their way out of the spekaers in pure Megadeth fashion. This tune and the maniacal metal of ‘Fatal Illusion’ are everything you love about this band in 4 minutes. The title track has a hook which is aural equivalent of being tarred and feathered, and weaves melody and power together so infectiously it should have been called ‘Neck Wrecker’. On the rhythmic battering of ‘Poisonous Shadows’, Mustaine serves up a song which is a highlight not just of this record, but of his career. Uncompromisingly heavy, clever and utterly captivating, it is quintessentially Megadeth without sounding remotely anachronistic.
So far, so good…….But there is a but. And it is a big BUT. Despite the energy which the new line-up has injected, you get the sense that much of ‘Dystopia’ was written by a Mustaine on auto-pilot. ‘Death From Within’, ‘Bullet to the Brain’ and ‘Post-American World’ all feature lazy riffage. Although ‘Dystopia’ is a more coherent record than ‘Thirteen’ or ‘Supercolider’ – everything here is marked ‘metal’ – this is frustrating when you know that metal’s greatest guitarist can do better than the forgettable. Lyrically, we are treated to another Mustaine take on the New World Order. This not only feels rushed, but disingenuous: what we have here is an insincere polemicist berating insincere politicians. Witness the cover of Fear’s ‘Foreign Policy’, which sounds as inspired as any hardcore punk song would when covered by a multi-millionaire, middle-aged, right-leaning musician. Fun, but more fizzle than acidity.
‘Dystopia’ is certainly a good record. No-one could dispute that. But it is also a record where the gems are surrounded by moments of numbing mediocrity. When the gods sin, it is unforgiveable.
Dave's Bitch (05-07-2016)
Slayer – Repentless (2015)
It is a testament to how revered Slayer are – they are easily in the top 5 most important metal bands of all time – that opinions about them are so strong and expectations for their albums so high. Disappointment levelled at much of their output since ‘Seasons in the Abyss’ (1990) is over-stated, and a very public reaction to what is demanded of Slayer. In truth, however, although albums like ‘Christ Illusion’ (2006) and ‘World Painted Blood’ (2009) are far from the band’s first five records, they are still monstrously furious slabs of metal bludgeon. ‘Repentless’ is a record of firsts for Slayer: their first record not to be produced by Rick Rubin; their first record without founding guitar-player (and key songwriter) Jeff Hanneman (who died in 2013); and, as a consequence of the first two factors, the first real Slayer album to be met with trepidation rather than gushing excitement. How would Slayer sound without a pivotal member? How would their guitars sound without the interplay between Hanneman and Kerry King? And how would the very public departure of Dave Lombardo – widely regarded as metal’s best drummer and the pulsating thud at the heart of Slayer’s thunder – affect a band already wounded?
‘Repentless’ is certainly a defiant statement to these doubts. It is – as all Slayer music – unrelentingly heavy, furious beyond the limits of fury, and features all of the elements you would expect from this band. It is also very far from being a classic Slayer album, or even a particularly good one. Although much of the music here benefits enormously from repeated listens, little on ‘Repentless’ feels as utterly vital as much of their music does. You wouldn’t be excited to hear these songs live as you would deep cuts from ‘Divine Intervention’ (the title track, or ‘Mind Control’, for instance), or even the much maligned ‘God Hates Us All’ (‘God Send Death’ or ‘Payback’). Sure, the title track is fast and furious, and sure ‘Implode’ is as ultra-aggressive as a pitbull on crack, but there is something missing. And that something is the darkness which Hanneman brought to this band: the eerie, creepy, disturbing exploration of humanity’s capacity for evil which he injected to nuance the rage. Slayer 2015 is like Pacino’s Satan in ‘The Devil’s Advocate’ – noise and anger – where the band of old was De Niro’s Satan in ‘Angel Heart’: chilling and, consequently, terrifying.
That’s not to say that there aren’t moments here. ‘When The Stillness Comes’ – King’s attempt to pen a Hanneman tune – is a welcome injection of the macabre, its serial-killer’s telling his victims ‘The last thing you see is my eyes…..’. Similarly, ‘You Against You’ and ‘Take Control’ serve up slices of hardcore-punk bluster that was always bubbling under the band’s sound, and the surviving Hanneman-penned tune ‘Piano Wire’ is a brooding, menacing cluster of militia riffage. Gary Holt of Exodus lays down some absolutely killer solos and if this band continues forward, perhaps an injection of his song-writing would add something into the mix: it wouldn’t be the Slayer of old, but it might be a brilliant metal band nonetheless. It is often said that Slayer are ‘the AC/DC of thrash’, a band who don’t change. Life has thrust change on them, however, and you can’t help that embracing what Holt can bring to the mix would be worthwhile.
Is this then a great band limping on? That would be too harsh. But it is deeply flawed, and for those from whom we expect greatness, that is perhaps a greater thing to witness. Slayer used to be immortal. They are now very, very human – and that is uncomfortable to acknowledge.
Still, it’ll make you neck hurt.
Motorhead – Bad Magic (2015)
‘They haven’t done anything good since……’. Bull. Shit. It is desperately sad that the current Motorhead line-up – Lemmy, Mikkey Dee and Phil Campbell – does not get wider recognition for the sheer quality of the music they’ve made over the past 20 years. A cursory listen to ‘Inferno’ (2004), ‘Motorizer’ (2008) or ‘Aftershock’ (2013) would prove that this is a band equally as vital and vicious as they were in their early-80s heyday. ‘Bad Magic’ continues that trend in many ways. By no means as varied in its approach as ‘Aftershock’ – this is a straight ahead nitro-charged rock ‘n’ roll hellride – this album seems to be a defiant middle-finger to those who thought that Lemmy’s well-documented health issues had finished this band. Maybe it’s even a middle-finger to Death itself (who features prominently in the album’s lyrics). There is no need to describe what this sounds like: if you’ve been a fan of heavy music for 5 minutes, you know what Motorhead sounds like. But there is a need to state IN CAPITAL FUCKING LETTERS how good it is. Opener ‘Victory or Die’ is pure adrenalin to the veins, ‘Thunder & Lightning’ is the sort of rock ‘n’ roll that makes you think your dick is bigger than it is, and ‘Fire Storm Hotel’ is the gun-slinger bad-assery you know and love from Motorhead (and, boy, what a chorus!) Sure, not everything here is essential (‘Evil Eye’ and ‘Tell Me Who To Kill’ see the quality drop a little), and some will roll their eyes at the band’s cover of ‘Sympathy for the Devil’. A close listen reveals that Lemmy’s croack adds a little bluster into the tune than the original.
This is rock ‘n’ roll. It’s not big, and it couldn’t care less about being clever. But we should never underestimate Motorhead. Where their peers limp on (Black Sabbath), engage in self-parody (Judas Priest) or trade on former glories (take your pick) here is a band still wanting to keep on kicking after 40 years. Lemmy has been very fragile of later, and the aura of immortality is now clearly dispelled. That should be a clarion call to appreciate this band: when they’re gone, there will be a hole which no-one else can fill.
^^^^^^
I wrote that long before we lost the great man. I figured it was more honest to keep it how it was than to write something sappy or sentimental.
R.I.P you absolute beast of a man. The world will never be quite the same again.
I don't usually bother with Megadeth but new band sounds good, I like this Brazilian guy's guitar playing.
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The Temperance Movement – White Bear (2016)
Well, THIS is a fuck of a lot of fun. Britain’s The Temperance Movement fall under the ‘retro’ or ‘vintage’ rock label (i.e. they sounds like a jambalaya of ‘60s and ‘70s rock). But this is no cover or tribute band – like Rival Sons or Graveyard, the joy of this band is its ability to surprise you, to make the familiar unfamiliar, and therefore vital. Like those bands, The Temperance Movement have a record collection which encompasses far more than Zeppelin, AC/DC and Black Sabbath. ‘White Bear’ nods to Cream, Humble Pie, Grand Funk Railroad, The Doors and even Motown, but never feels like a pastiche of any of them. Opener ‘Three Bullets’ is gnarly, soul-enfused rock which bounces like a stripper with an itchy crotch; the title track makes you long for those long, carefree summer nights when you were 17; and ‘Modern Massacre’ is screaming-hot rawk from the deepest recesses of Satan’s nutsack. But there is depth here, too. Here is a record you can sing, with vocal lines which sink their teeth in you. ‘Oh, Lorraine’ is a country delicacy thrown into the funk melting pot, ‘A Pleasant Peace I Feel’ nods to Janis Joplin, and ‘Get Yoursefl Free’ has a hook so good it feels like a song you’ve known forever on the first listen. Paul Sayer’s and Luke Potashnick’s guitars propel this album by digging far deeper than Marshall bluster: the tones here a rich, varied, and more grown up (but not boring) than ‘big, dumb rock’ normally delivers. But the star of the show is singer Phil Campbell. Wailing and crooning as the moment requires, this magical voice is the not-so secret weapon which will ensure that ‘White Bear’ kicks ass and takes names all summer long and then some.
Skunk Anansie – Anarchytecture (2016)
It is fair to say that Skunk Anansie were never conceived to achieve mainstream success. With fingers in both the metal, punk and rock pies but not terribly comfortable in the confines of any of those genres, they were hard to label and to position; and, fronted by a black lesbian, they were clearly not geared to making waves with middle-England, middle-of-the-road listeners, or prime time radio. And yet, in the mid-1990s this band was HUGE in Europe, with a string of top 20 singles and albums. A cynic might point out that this was because they were something of an antidote to the sterile lad-isms of Brit Pop, but in truth this success probably had more to do with the fact that Skunk Anansie had three things going for them: 1), songs that made them unique without ever being inaccessible; 2) an honesty which translates any genre boundaries; and 3) one of the very best singers you’re ever likely to have heard in Skin.
‘Anarchytecture’ proves that none of these things has changed. This is the third ‘reunion’ record which Skunk Anansie have made since the late ‘00s, and it features many of the hallmarks of their later sound. Far less heavy than in their heyday, this album is no nostalgia trip, and is all the better for that. The band have incorporated elements from music which has happened since the mid-90s (most of it not even close to being rock) and have managed to do so without ever sounding like they are tracing trends or trying to be younger than they actually are. They result is something with integrity, emotional honesty and the same Skunk Ananise uniqueness, albeit in a different dress. Those who want to punk-metal bluster of ‘Stoosh’ or ‘Paranoid and Sunburnt’ will be disappointed: young persons’ ire has been replaced by songs about loss, the darker side of love, and regret. And every single one of them is stunning.
Opener ‘Love Someone Else’ incorporates electro elements whilst maintaining the bite you’d expect from this band. With playful lyrics and dark emotions, it captivates and disturbs in equal measure. ‘Death To Lovers’ sounds like a blackened Florence And The Machine with a much better singer, whilst ‘Victim’ places a menacing shuffle behind a tale of dark love, and feels like a more gothic Kate Bush. There are certainly rock moments. ‘Beauty Is Your Curse’ is up-beet and edgy, new wave guitars swiping and slashing behind the hooks; whilst ‘In The Back Room’ is a take on hedonism (!) played knowingly and with more than an eye on the blackened urges behind it. What staggers here, however, is how confident this band is. The songs are spartan and the band seems happy to play their trump card – Skin’s utterly stupefying voice – over and over without it ever getting old. The achingly beautiful ‘Without You’ is little more than a voice and beat in places, and closer ‘I’ll Let You Down’ is a stop everything and listen moment.
Many older bands struggle to find their relevance as the music scene changes. Skunk Anansie never fitted in when they were successful and it seems that this, above all else, is the reason that ‘Anarchytecture’ triumphs. This is my favourite record of 2016 so far simply because it is not trying to be anything that it is not. It simply IS, and it is all the warmer for it.
Def Leppard – Def Leppard (2015)
Def Leppard fall into the category of bands who have now been shit for a lot longer than they were ever good. In part this is not their fault: like any band whose uber-hits define an era, their relevance dies with that era. But it is also the case that when this band tries to branch out from their ‘80s sound, it has never been convincing. Add in to the fact that in 2016 this band looks like a partially-melted wax-work of their 1987 selves – or, with the addition of hair dye and 40lbs, like a bunch of welders who have begun the first stage of gender-transition therapy – and the whole saga is very sorry indeed. Or, it would be if this eponymous record was not REALLY, REALLY FUCKING GOOD. Leppard has also been a pop band in heavy rock clothes, and their proud of that heritage. Reading interviews with other ageing rockers always reveals a sense of embarrassment about their musical credibility (do you really believe a 15 year old member of any 80s spandex warrior band was hooked on Muddy Waters?) but with Leppard you get no such nonsense. Grew up listening to Bolan, Mott and The Sweet and damn proud of it – that sense of joy de vive oozes out of this record. If you’re too cool for Def Leppard, the chances are you’re probably an asshole.
Opener ‘Let’s Go’ is Leppard by numbers. Powerchords, those trademark Phil Collen guitar licks, and a MASSIVE chorus – summarising a 35 year career, it is a highly appropriate way to open an eponymous record, and you will reach for the volume control. Similarly, ‘Dangerous’ is an up-tempo, no-nonesense rocker which would sit comfortably on any of the band’s first four records. But this is no nostalgia trip. ‘Man Enough’ is something of a musical departure, and it is easily the best tune here. A funky bassline (which nods to Queen) and a teasing, tongue-in-cheek lyrics, this is catchier than VD in a whorehouse. Add to that the fact that the bluesy, acoustic ‘Battle of My Own’ sounds like Marc Bolan would have done if he’d grown up in the delta, and you’ve got a band on fire. ‘Sea of Love’ is more ‘70s glam than ‘80s pomp, ‘All Time High’ leaves you feeling like you’re on one, and ‘Forever Young’ is a pocket rocket of a tune. Simply put, this is a band who knows how to write a hook. Metal and hard rock are in thrall to an awful lot of ‘retro-rock’ bands at the moment, but critics would do well to remember a bunch of dudes from Sheffield who discard better melodies than most of those bands will ever write.
There are certainly problems. 14 tunes is too many for a band of this ilk, and less is certainly more here. ‘Energized’ is a chorus in need of a song, and ‘Invincible’ is wholly unnecessary. But it is refreshing to report that although the ballads – despite being cheesier that Def Leppards’ cocks c.1985 – are actually good. ‘We Belong’ will probably get a lot of 50-somethings laid this year, and ‘Wings of An Angel’ has a hook of epic proportions. Everyone needs to be sentimental sometimes, Jim.
It’s safe to say that should the ‘I’m gonna crank some Def Leppard’ mood take you, you’re still more likely to reach for Pyromania than you are this album. But don’t over-look it. This is not an exercise in the law of diminishing returns – it is the best record Def Leppard have made in a quarter of a century.
Monster Truck – Sittin’ Heavy (2016)
Retro rawk is big business (well, as far as any music is ‘big business’ in 2016). Monster Truck do it very well. Mixing the DNA of the ‘70s with more than dollop of Southern Rock and making the whole thing heavier, there’s certainly nothing on the Canadians’ second album that you haven’t heard before and haven’t heard done better. Indeed, much of this comes straight from ‘The Big Ol’ Book of Cliches’: eagles soar, no-one tells you how to live, women are witches, and (you guessed it) they have demons for souls. So, why should you bother with it? Well, as with some many of these bands, it will make you smile like a cat that got the cream and make your day better for the 40 minutes or so that it lasts. Ephemeral? Sure, but don’t underestimate the power of this sort of music just because it is so familiar. What matters most in life is how well you walk through the fire. Monster Truck may very well encourage you to bare all and streak through it.
‘Another Man’s Shoes’ could make mountains quake. ‘Things Get Better’ has a bassline that makes souls smile in any language, and even the smaltzy closer ‘Enjoy the Time’ makes you smile because it’s delivered with such conviction. Sonically, this is very closer to Blackstone Cherry. Where that band is a) too damn nice and b) often over-think their tunes and rob them of soul, Monster Truck suffer from neither vice. Other retro rockers are certainly developing their own sound from the raw materials (see the excellent Rival Sons) or doing something quite spiritual with it (see Graveyard), but this is band has no such ambitions. You sense they’re happy to be you’re 14th favourite band. Like a one-night stand, ‘Sittin’ Heavy’ is fun while it lasts, but unedifying.
There’s nothing wrong with familiarity. Look at this way: Hugh Hefner has probably seen more tits than any human being in history, but if a 20 year old offers to show him hers today, he’s going to say ‘yes’. Similarly, whilst we’ve heard everything in Monster Truck’s arsenal before, but that’s no reason not to hear it again. You do get the sense that they can do an awful lot more – and their first, much more muscular and expansive album suggests this – but even sticking to the template has its plus points.
I will probably never hear this album but your review was funny as fuck
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Seshmeister (06-04-2016)
I didn't know this album was out. I'm curious about why they would make it eponymous, does that not make it much harder to find online?
I've listened to the first couple of songs and if this had come out in 1985 I would have really liked it.
There are a few bands like Van Halen who if they released a new album which was a facsimile of them of 1985 I would like, Def Leppard are not one of those bands.
I wouldn't criticise this album though, if you still like Def Leppard you will still like this. It's like when people would say Bon Jovi sold out but their first album was the poppiest of them all - you can't blame a snake for being a snake.
Iron Maiden – The Book Of Souls (2015)
There are two ways of looking at Iron Maiden’s career since the reunion of their ‘80s line-up in 1999. The first is to see it as a celebration of musical wanderlust: a Rush-like ambition to ever expand the band’s sound into increasingly progressive, but nonetheless uniquely ‘Maiden’, soundscapes with the dial firmly set on epic. The second is to recognise that ambition, but to see vice where others celebrate virtues: a sign of a band that is increasingly indulgent, far from the bombastic metal of their heyday and in dire need of editing. For those in the latter camp, ‘The Book Of Souls’ – Maiden’s 16th studio album – will be as frustrating as the previous five reunion records. A double album which clocks in at 95 minutes, all of the things which irritate those who yearn for 1985 with nostalgia-clogged ears have been expanded and amplified. The intros are ‘too long’; the band allows itself the ‘meander’ in (over)long musical sections (a feature made more prominent this time round with much of this record being ripped straight from performances on the studio floor); and the production, which many praise as ‘raw’, is decidedly under-cooked in terms of its sonics. True to form, then, Maiden are deeply honest – they don’t really care what many of their fans think, and continue to make music simply to please themselves.
And, at its best, what truly unique, inspiring and idiosyncratic music this is. The playing – as you would expect – is superb. The trademark gallops are served up with aplomb, the three-part guitar harmonies are of the highest order and under Nicko McBain’s helmship the band turn on a sixpence. This is exceptionally complex, but it never feels less than human or emotionless, and that is quite a skill. Opener ‘If Eternity Should Fail’ begins with Bruce’s voice – eerie and inspiring in equal measure – before kicking into one of the heaviest tunes this band has ever recorded. A far superior opener to those on the last 3 records, the hook is superb and 40 years into their career Maiden still sound vital. The epic ‘The Red and the Black’ is dazzling: the ‘whoa-oh-oh’ chorus will irritate some as lazy, but the musicianship here is stunning as the song passes through movement after movement of crushingly heavy metal. The title track shifts from delicate refrain to gargantuan riff and is the sort of mid-paced Maiden behemoth that used to terrify you as a kid: heavy, but losing none of the melodic complexity which makes this band so compelling, it gallops away to end the first disc on a glorious high.
It is a shame, then, that the highs are diluted by moments of mediocrity. If the past three Maiden records needed an edit, ‘The Book of Souls’ would have certainly benefitted from a more brutal inclusion criteria. Part of the problem here is that the song-writing has been more democratic than previously, with Steve Harris releasing some of his iron grip after a series of personal problems. This is welcome in some sense – it adds variety – but unwelcome in others – the variety of styles makes the disc feel unfocussed. The ‘theme’ – Mayan/Atzec – is only very loose indeed; and while this band has teased us with going all-out-prog for the past decade or so, the decision to include a handful of tunes to satisfy the diehards has the habit of spoiling the whole by making it unbalanced. ‘Death Or Glory’ is Maiden-by-numbers; ‘When the River Runs Deep’ is so quick that the vocal line trips over itself; and ‘Speed of Light’, while a metal anthem, seems out of place of an album as musically expansive as this. Indeed, when presented with the 18-minute, Dickinson-penned ‘Empire of the Clouds’ – a sprawling epic about a suitably epic subject (the tragic crash of the R101 airship on its maiden voyage to France in 1930) - you get the sense that with a little more focus and courage, Maiden could be making provocative albums rather than merely provoking ones.
All criticism of Iron Maiden should come with the caveat that what they do is always very good. ‘The Book of Souls’ is no exception: the band are victims of their own success and the high expectations which accompany it, and their refusal to rest on their laurels is highly commendable. You do wish that they’d sit back and look at the whole however. 95 minutes is too much music to take in, and if the whole had been cut to the cream of the crop, a 70 minutes album would have been more powerful as a result. In 2016, Maiden at their full prog is the most satisfying; at their most metallic they are now least sincere.
Angra – Secret Garden (2015)
They may be called Angra, but they’re not very angry. At least not by the standards of 21st century metal. ‘Thoughtful’ might be a better adjective; ‘statuesque’ another. This band reminds me an awful lot of the golden-era of Queensryche: they can really play, they have great a great ear for melody, and what they produced deserves considerable admiration. But it’s not going to make you want to break stuff – you’re more likely to sit back and appreciate it. This is largely because Angra’s music is very considered rather than performative. Kiko Loureiro (also the current Megadeth axeman) can really play, and he serves up lots of guitarmaggedon; but with the keyboards and neoclassical leanings this band has more in common with Rainbow that they do much of the contemporary metal scene – vocalist Rafael Bettencourt has certainly copied straight out of the book of Dio wail. None of this is a bad thing, of course. But Rainbow really fucking rawked. Angra impress, but they are lacking somewhat in the passion stakes.
Coming under the tag of ‘Power Metal’ – which is essentially thrash – the aggression + heavy dollops of cheese – Angra’s music is very sonorous (these tunes will get in your head) but a little bookish (but they’re unlikely to move you). You could sing ‘Black Hearted Soul’ all day, for example. It’s all done terribly well and is coupled to genuine songs rather than just excellent playing. ‘Final Light’, for instance, sound like Dream Theater without all the needless frippery; and the sinewy and delicate ‘Storm of Emotions’ edges towards modern prog – this is a ‘metal’ band which can paint in shades other than gun-metal grey, and their cover of The Police’s ‘Synchronicity II’ shows their dexterity. This can be impressive. Although not a million miles away from musical theatre, the title track is taken up several notches by the majesty of guest vocals from Simone Simons. At their most metallic – ‘Crushing Room’ (which features guest vocals from Doro Pesch) – the band is least convincing.
‘Secret Garden’ is a good album by any measure. You can’t help but be impressed. Like anything which engages the head rather than the balls, however, its hold is somewhat limited as a result.
From the vaults: Metallica – Load (1996)
‘They cut their hair. It’s a shit record’. So ran the critical reaction to ‘Load’, Metallica’s sixth record. Aside from the illogical statement of causation (hair = musical talent), few expressions of exasperation have ever been so revealing about the inner-workings of a community. At the heart of metal lies a paradox: ‘we’re free spirits, outsiders, and rebels’ the choir begins ‘but if you break our rules, you’re out of the club’. Few genres are more conservative or place more expectation on how a band should look and sound. Consequently, ‘Load’ was dismissed before many fans and critics had even hit play: the non-metal short hair was bad enough; the acid-stained whore-house photos from Anton Corbijyn were beyond provocative. Lars Ulrich and Kirk Hammett may have just about got away with looking like The Pimp Twins in the mid-90s, but no-one wanted to see James Hetfield in make-up. That way flicking the nutsack of metal’s ultra-machismo.
Listening to ‘Load’ two decades on, it’s hard to imagine why this caused such an unholy shitstorm for a number of reasons. First (and most important) it’s actually a very good album; second, we’re now so used to Metallica throwing us curve balls that simply opting to be a Rock Band rather than a Metal Band doesn’t really seems that offensive; and third despite the fact it shifted a bazillion copies, this period is largely forgotten by band and audience alike (only two songs from this era – ‘Fuel’ and ‘The Memory Remains’ – regularly feature in the band’s setlists over the past 15 years, and they are both from ‘Reload’, not this album). The third factor is the most disconcerting because although it hurt when Metallica told us they wanted to be seen as ‘more than’ a metal band, ‘Load’ should be seen as a testament to the fact that as songwriters they certainly ARE more than just another metal band. This was a creative statement, not a commercial one. It was the sound of a band who had been on the road for 4 years after ‘The Black Album’ and were sick of their own limitations as they hammered out night after pulverising night of metal; not the sound of a band who thought ‘this will increase our market share’.
This is often misunderstood: although ‘Load’ is much easier on the ears than any Metallica album to this point, it wasn’t a commercial record. The musical roots here are pure ‘70s hard rock – Thin Lizzy, Skynrd, Blues Oyster Cult – not the grunge or post-grunge of the mid-90s. Alice In Chains, Nirvana or Pearl Jam ‘Load’ was not. The band may have been bored of metal, and may have feared simply making ‘The Black Album 2’ (which would have been the real sell out), but those negatives were pushed into creativity. It is a pattern which has marked the last two decades of their career: success has allowed them a creative wanderlust, and that wanderlust has frustrated and disappointed their fanbase over and over again. Call that obtuse, but it’s certainly not the greedy Ulrich gene it is often characterised as. There is something noble about it, too. Nothing says ‘fuck you’ like a band which does what it wants. What could be more Metal?
All the nobility in the world can’t hide the fact that ‘Load’ had more than a few blemishes. Creativity often leads of a loss of focus, and that is certainly true here. The band was presumably now too chummy with producer Bob Rock for the latter to tell them that a substantial proportion of the tunes on ‘Load’ (and an even larger proportion on ‘Reload’) were filler. As has been the case since, Metallica no longer knew how to edit themselves and much of the 70 + minutes here could have been cut to make something more rounded and satisfying. Cool guitar tones aside, ‘Ronnie’ was a dismal attempt at da bloooos; ‘The Cure’, ‘2X4’, ‘The Thorn Within’ and ‘Oh, Poor Twisted Me’ sound half-formed and don’t evolve beyond musical sketches – they’re not awful, but they are moments of mediocrity which dilute the whole.
But the gems are the sound of a band in kill mode. ‘King Nothing’ was never going to win any genius awards, but it was a crushing display of ultra heavy blues rock. First single ‘Until It Sleeps’ sounded like a musical departure in a superficial sense, but actually employed the soft/heavy power-ballad formula that the band had employed since 1984 – an eerie, jagged song which showcased Hetfield’s maturity as a lyricist, this nodded to Soundgarden but had more balls than anything coming out of Seattle. ‘Wasting My Hate’ is furious and as testosterone charged as anything than band had done to this point: it may have been less ‘metallic’ but, like much of ‘Load’, that didn’t make it any the less heavy. Best of all was the 9 minute plus ‘The Outlaw Torn’, a sprawling, roaring paean to the unforgiven which was jack-hammer is jack-hammer heavy, propelled by a cut-throat riff and a hook that could part the atom. It is one of the finest songs Metallica has ever written.
‘Load’ also managed to widen this band’s emotional range. Rather than mere aggression, here we get a band playing with warmth, regret, laments and sadness. This is exemplified by the country-tinged moments here, which is where Hetfield feels and sounds most comfortable and natural. ‘Bleeding Me’ is epic in a way that only Metallica do: crawling and often low on dynamics, the vocal ensures that the main body of the song is never short of captivating before giving way to a hulking riff in the coda. Here they still sounded like the Four Horsemen, but they’d come for your soul dressed in Stetsons and bullet-belts, not on clouds of fire. Conversely, ‘Hero Of the Day’ was as poppy as the band has ever been. Another beautifully crafted song, this was Metallica injecting range into their furious brand on aggression. Few rock bands in the ‘90s had songs to match Hetfield on his best day and for that reason, ‘Load’ really should be better remembered and more highly revered.
If Metallica are only to be judged on how ‘Metal’ they are, then ‘Load’ can only be seen as a failure. Such a narrow criteria seems ridiculous, however. This album – like every album since – has been an artistic statement by this band, who have never self-consciously chased a bandwagon. Judged purely on the quality of its songs – rather than on what those songs were ‘supposed’ to be – ‘Load’ can only be viewed as a success, a great album, if not quite a great ‘Metallica’ album.
Deftones – Gore (2016)
Deftones have been on a creative high in recent years. ‘Gore’ continues that high, but in an unexpected way. Where ‘Diamond Eyes’ (2009) and ‘Koi Yoi Nokan’ (2012) were Deftones at their most anthemic and bombastic – all massive riffs, groove and bounce – ‘Gore’ sees the band at its most introspective, angular and challenging. Darker and less up-tempo than the band have been in the ‘00s – perhaps in reaction to the death of bassist Chi Cheng – this album rewards repeated listens. Rumours circulated that guitarist Stephen Carpenter was hostile during the recording process, and he is certainly less prevalent in the band’s sound that usual. The upside to this loss of immediacy in the band’s sound, however, is that the tones and soundscapes created by Chino Moreno’s impassioned vocals have far more space to absorb the listener. This makes ‘Gore’ an affecting – and often uncomfortable – listen.
Opener ‘Prayers/Triangles’ is a long way from the crushing wall of riffs you expect from Deftones. Esoteric soundscapes and spacey melodies open the record in a subdued, but nonetheless enveloping, manner. While undoubtedly heavy, ‘Acid Hologram’ is (like many Deftones tunes) a long way from the aesthetic we would normally associate with ‘Metal’ – less macho, more vulnerable, this song showcases what it is that makes Deftones so unique and captivating: the ability to write songs that are at once wilfully angular and earworms. This is no easy listen, sonically or emotionally. The title track and ‘LMIRL’ are the delicate sound of thunder: switching from quiet sections to pure fury, here the band employs a range of dynamics and tones richer than they have employed since ‘White Pony’ (2001). This will divide fans, but the result is a sound as huge as it is challenging. You can’t help but marvel at it, whatever your opinion. ‘Geometric Headdress’, for example, is a dark tale of attraction and repulsion being propelled by desire set to a series of quirky rhythms and melodies: here is a band that can make you think and dance in the same instance.
In the hands of Matt Hyde’s stripped-down production these songs feel raw and the band more human. They may have lost sonic bluster, but they’ve gained power. ‘Xenon’, for example, benefits from the lack of complication and could have been on the band’s debut ‘Adrenaline’ (1995); and ‘Heads/Wires’ is from the vinyl era, a song with so much space that it feels lively and dynamic, a performance not a recording.
This is a captivating and challenging record, but it is not an immediate one. For that reason, it will split fans and critics alike. No one can doubt Deftones creative integrity, however. They have a habit of turning right when straight ahead would have been the logical choice. That single-mindedness and commitment to their art is perhaps what makes them so unique. ‘Metal’ has never really fitted them as a label, and you can easily imagine much of their material being palatable to those on the edgier ends of inide and alt.rock. Two decades in and they’re still full of surprises and remain one of heavy music’s most vibrant forces.
From the Vaults: Overkill – From the Underground and Below (1997)
The mid-90s was a weird time for metal. Grunge had come and gone, turning the world of heavy music on its arse as a result; thrash metal had petered out; traditional metal was sneered at as its pioneering bands entered their 40s; and two new genres – Industrial and Nu Metal – were making music that was heavy, but very different in its aesthetics, from the metal that had gone before. As a result of this weirdness, a lot of established bands tried new things. Many of these new things involved wearing sweat pants – instead of denim and leather –which looked ridiculous. Writing songs about child abuse and/or nondescript ‘pain’ was also common, which in retrospect was just as contrived as songs about demons and dragons (and a fuck of a lot less fun to listen to). Now filed under ‘experimentation’ (when remembered at all) the records from this period actually sound aimless, the result of bands desperately trying to cling onto their record contracts by staying relevant.
Overkill were also experimenting in 1997. This band are the US equivalent of Saxon: a very important and pioneering band now overlooked and underappreciated despite clocking up latter day gems. ‘From…’ certainly featured some attempts at catching the zeitgeist: the record was mixed by Colin Richardson, the producer behind two of the period’s biggest new bands – Machine Head and Fear Factory; the band tried to write more introspective lyrics in places (most of which fall flat); and the band photos and artwork just look plain odd (self consciously un-metal but decidedly ‘non-metal’). At this point, Megadeth had decided they were a rock band, Anthrax were trying to sound like Helmet, and Metallica were wearing make-up and trying to boogie, so thrash veterans like Overkill having a crisis of confidence is understandable. You can almost hear the conversation with the record company which result in the awful Korn-y ‘Half Past Dead’.
But ‘From….’ is not a record to consign to the ‘failed experimentation’ folder (read: bargain bin) of the period. Despite the signs of the times, it is a motherfucker of a metal record. Opener ‘It Lives’ is the most calculated cut here. The tones and pinch harmonics were an attempt to garner some Machine Head-style success. ‘See Me’ was also thrash-meets-industrial – the pulsing guitars were pure Ministry or White Zombie – but it was still sandpaper-to-the-face aggression. And that is what ultimately what marks this record out as an odd sort of triumph – even dressed in new clothes, Bobby Blitz still sounded, and felt, like he always had done – an East Coast pitbull hellbent on wrecking your neck! ‘F.U.C.T’ is the headbutt-to-the-nose Overkill thrash that this band made them name on, with a tar sticky chorus to boot. Even when the band tries different ways of being heavy, it has the same attitude. ‘I’m Alright’ and ‘The Rip N Tear’ are the sound which Anthrax was reaching for (and missing) in the same period – classic rock played through concrete guitar tones – and although not what you’d expect from Overkill, the riffs just own you. ‘Long Time Dyin’ – which is a blusier brand of thrash – is equally compelling and propelled by an equally big, thick, slab of riffage.
‘From the Underground and Below’ is not Overkill’s finest hour. But it is a monster of a record in places. As you’d expect (and again the Saxon comparison is important) it is delivered with the sort of gusto and metallic bombast which makes it compelling. Not every experiment here works, but those that did produced some black beauties and forgotten gems. It feels like Overkill, even if it doesn’t necessarily sound like them – and feel is the most important element of any band worth its salt.
Five Finger Death Punch – Got Your Six (2015)
A cursory listen to FFDP reveals three things. First, this is band of men who are hard. Rock hard. They pose with weapons in the album photos (hard). They write hooks about using those weapons - ‘Click-clack, reload’ on ‘No Sudden Movement’ - (hard). They grimace for no apparent reason (hard). And – whisper it like the kid from Jerry Maguire – they say ‘fuck’ a lot (24 times in final song, the potty-mouthed Priest-esque anthem ‘Boots and Blood’). Second, they are angry. Really, really angry. What they are angry about is not clear, however. Lots ‘yous’ and ‘thems’ appear in the lyrics – it appears that what makes them most angry is ill-defined and non-specific targets, like ‘the world’ and ‘society’. RAAAAARRRR. Third, and finally, this band is smart. This where we have to remove our sarcastic trousers and get serious. FFDP are a smart band: they have their eyes of being one of metal’s premier acts – an arena stomping, festival heading, angry-for-no-apparent-reason slice of capitalism – and they have made record after record of carefully designed albums to achieve that status.
‘Got Your Six’ is no different. The songs – as mentioned – are angry. But they’re only angry for 3 minutes (hello, radio chance of radio play) and with big, pop-infused hooks (hello, spotty, my-parents-don’t-understand-me audience). Those songs have also been written according to a formula: look at what metal’s biggest acts (Slipknot, Korn, Disturbed, Killswitch Engage) do; work out how to do it; do it; increase the number of ‘fucks’. Cynicism aside, this is the makes of a skilled band – creatively redundant ‘Got Your Six’ may be, but FFDP the business is going places.
If approached seriously, this leaves a cheap aftertaste in the mouth. But sometimes you’ve just got to get over yourself. FFDP are not Opeth. They’re not trying to be Opeth. If you take ‘Got Your Six’ for what it is – a carefully packed piece of metal for the mainstream – you can’t help but enjoy it. The opening – and title – track sounds an awful lot like ‘Iowa’-era Slipknot with the scary taken out: 2 minutes 30 of bouncy metallic fun. ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ is essentially a massive pop song, Katy Perry with heavy guitar (and added ‘fucks’). This is meant as a compliment – hooks aren’t easy to write, and being a gateway band is important (how many people who love Megadeth first got their rock buzz from Poison?) Pop sensibilities help to ease 13 year olds into the metal fold. ‘Wash It All Away’ is pure teen angst (give up on family, society, democracy, and so on) – when you strip away the angry lyrics however, the music could be mid-80s Scorpions. A chugging guitar here, a shiny hook there. Tunes you can whistle, and songs that will stick in your head like shit to a blanket.
‘Got Your Six’ is not a good album. But it is an enjoyable one, and fun is sometimes underrated.
From the Vaults: Candlemass – King of the Grey Island (2007)
Comebacks are a difficult thing to get right. If you deviate from your trademark sound, you annoy and frustrate your fans. If you replicate it, you sound irrelevant and never quite as exciting as you did on the records which made you a ‘legend’. Swedish doom-pioneers Candlemass have made a series of very, very good metal albums since reuniting in the 00s. ‘King…..’ is one of those albums. It deserves a wider audience.
Following on from ‘From the 13th Sun’ – their first comeback record – Candlemass simplified things and opted for a crisper, more straightforward approach. New vocalist Robert Lowe was part Dio and part Hetfield, and in his hands these songs simply soar. The songs were more concise, and even when longer had clearer focal points. The template was more clearly Sabbath – unsurprising given that this is doom, but the Candlemass of the past had never been mere emulators. The benefits of this are that the songs stick in the ears and are more immediate – opener ‘Emperor of the Void’ is a symphony of everything which makes metal great; and ‘Devil’s Seed’ is pure head-banging abandon. The downside is that this straighter, less atmospheric approach is that for all the quality of the material, Candlemass lost something of the feeling which made them tick. It’s the ‘comeback’ catch-22 striking again.
But focussing on what is missing instead of what is there can only lead to disappointment. The truth of the matter is that ‘King…’ featured some stunning slabs of epic, hook-laden doom metal. ‘Of Stars & Smoke’ is Rainbow on lots and lots of steroids. ‘Embracing the Styx’ is up there with the very best that 21st century doom can offer. ‘Destroyer’ is so heavy its presence lumbers and hulks, music which exists on its own terms and in its own world. And if you don’t like the sheer thud and power of ‘Clearsight’ you don’t like metal: this is a song heavier than the Himalayas.
It may not be the golden days, but that doesn’t mean that records can’t shine.
Rival Sons – Hollow Bones (2016)
It is undeniable that Rival Sons sounds like ’67-’72, but labelling them ‘Retro Rock’ doesn’t really do this band justice. This is far more than mere copyism or rose-tinted nostalgia: Rival Sons make records which are as authentic, emotive and genuine as the 50 year old era in which their sound belongs. Put simply, ‘Hollow Bones’ is 38 minutes of rock ‘n’ roll heaven, an album which alternatively shuffles, shakes and blusters its way out of the speakers. Less style over substance than The White Stripes, less meandering than The Black Crowes, Rival Sons showcases a very restrained display of chops in favour of allowing the songs to do the hard work for them.
And what songs they are. ‘Hollow Bones pt, 1’ owes far more to vintage soul and gospel than it does Page/Plant (the normal source of Classic Rock plagiarism). This is a song which shows that there is something of the shaman about this band – a raw blend of melody, bass and rhythm that hooks you into their world. Less heavy than the band’s previous two records – Scott Holiday’s guitar is less violent, and more tonal, in its presence – ‘Hollow Bones’ showcases a wider range of the band’s talents. The free-flow jam of ‘Black Coffee’, for instance, switches from proto-metal to a rip-riding Jerry Lee Lewis style romp. ‘Tied Up’ is a raucous, soulful blues which owes more to Creedence than it does to Sabbath (who the band are touring with a present). ‘Thundering Voices’ sounds like the hippies discovered funk and are hugging the shit out of it, and acoustic closer ‘All That I Want’ is a vulnerable, honest and delicate display of majestic songwriting.
In vocalist Jay Buchanan Rival Sons has a man who can rival anyone in the past 50 years of music. There’s a touch of Steve Marriot about him. Yes, that good. You sense, however, that Rival Sons will never be as big as those bands whom they love. This is not for want of talent, but for want of a zeitgeist. What made the classic bands classic wasn’t just a common blues derivation. It was existing at a particular moment in time. Rival Sons may very well be able to trade punches with some of music’s legends, but in a world where rock ‘n’ roll is not part of the status quo they will never have the same impact. And that is a crying shame.
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Grand Magus – Sword Songs (2016)
They wear denim and leather and they have beards. And they sound exactly like they look. Sweden’s Grand Magus serve up Heavy Metal of the most metallic variety with the utmost conviction and zero melodrama. ‘Sword Songs’ – album no 8 – takes us headfirst into a world where guitars chug, choruses are bellowed, songs are largely about warriors and Vikings are thrown in for good measure. Metal as power and Metal as escapism: see ‘Varangen’, “We are warriors, defenders of steel”. If you don’t get it, you will hate ‘Sword Songs’; if you do you will love it. Played with glee and with Dio in every pore of their being, this is an absolute joy of a record to listen to.
Grand Magus have two bonafide modern classics to their name: ‘Iron Will’ and ‘Hammer of The North’. On those records, Grand Magus came within a hair’s breath of Bathory, Priest and Maiden. ‘Sword Songs’ is not in that league, but it is a very, very good record. It is easy to be condescending to what is traditional, but it would be wrong to treat it with contempt. Songs like ‘Born For Battle’ and ‘Forged In Iron – Crowned In Steel’ may contain little that hasn’t been done before, but they are a metal head’s wet dream. No flab, no frills, no meandering: this simply delivers the goods from start to finish.
Bang Thy Head!
Anthrax – For All Kings (2016)
Anthrax were always The Smallest One of The Big Four. ‘For All Kings’, however, proves that in 2016 they are the band making the best music of the Bay Area’s big bruisers. Simply put, this is a giant of a heavy metal record. ‘Worship Music’ (2013) was a very good record, but much of it had been written without Joey Bellandonna – who returned to the fold in 2010 – in mind. This time out everything feels more complete, and with Joey’s voice in mind Charlie Bennante has penned songs which are both more epic in scope and which stretch the bounds of what you might usually associate with Anthrax. There are certainly moments here that you would call ‘thrash metal’ – the Armageddon riffage of opener ‘You Gotta Believe’ and the savagery of ‘Zero Tolerance’ both tap into this band’s heritage – but this is no nostalgia trip or an attempt to emulate the glory days. Instead, ‘For All Kings’ is a metal record made very much for Anthrax 2016.
The songs are often stunning, packed with nuances which raise the good to the great. ‘Monster At the End’ is a classic at first listen, a big, fat riff and a huge chorus combining to make something instantly anthemic. Similarly, ‘Breathing Lightning’ is very much a song, not a macho metal workout, and the riffs and hooks have far more power than a mere exercise in brutality would. That’s not to say that this is not a heavy record, as ‘Suzerain’ (which should have been named ‘The Riff That Kills All Others’) and the impossibly muscular ‘Defend/Avenge’ demonstrate. It is just that it is so much more than merely heavy. On the 8 minute epic ‘Blood Eagle Wings’ the band taps into Dio, Maiden and Priest without ever sounding irrelevant to the 21st century, and Joey lays down a frankly astonishing vocal.
Anthrax 2016 is a great band on great form and with plenty to say, and ‘For All Kings’ is about as good as metal gets.
Allan Holdsworth - Wardenclyffe Tower (1992)
AllMusic Review by Daniel Gioffre
This 1992 release features Holdsworth in conversation with usual compatriots Jimmy Johnson, Chad Wackerman, and Gary Husband. Keyboards are provided not only by Steve Hunt, but also by both Wackerman and Husband. Husband in particular demonstrates that his facility on the keyboards is equal to his skill on the drums. Despite the all-star cast of characters, there are certain peculiarities to Wardenclyffe Tower that prevent it from being numbered among Holdsworth's best work. One very obvious oddity is the strange and ill-advised ending to the opener, "5 to 10," which concludes with a toilet flushing and an annoying voice-over. Mistakes in judgment aside, there is something formless about this album, something that blurs the tracks together in a meaningless way. Holdsworth has always been more of a distinctive than a strong composer, and the batch of tunes that he contributes here is not very compelling. The title track, with its power-chord verse, and his collaboration with singer Naomi Star, "Against the Clock," are his strongest moments. The presence of Hunt's "Dodgy Boat" helps but it is not enough to elevate this album to the level of Holdsworth's past successes. This is not to say that there is not meaningful music on Wardenclyffe Tower, because there is. "Against the Clock," which features not only Star's voice but also the drums of Vinnie Colaiuta, is one such success. Holdsworth makes use of the SynthAxe guitar synthesizer on several tracks on Wardenclyffe Tower, the most effective use of which is here, where his solo emerges from empty space in a constantly accelerating fashion, like a boulder rolling down a hill (although Holdsworth's ascending line sets forth the impossible scenario of falling upwards). All in all, however, there is a lack of dynamic movement in the soloists and the compositions in general. Of value to Holdsworth completists, but not of much interest to casual fans.
Source: http://www.allmusic.com/album/warden...r-mw0000097636
Gojira – Magma (2016)
Gojira are perhaps the best metal band of their generation. Heavy, but with a knack for hooks, intelligent without ever losing immediacy, and in-tune with metal’s past without being constrained by the slavish worship of tradition, over the course of 3 superlative releases – ‘From Mars to Sirius’ (2005), ‘The Way of All Flesh’ (2008) and ‘L’Enfant Savage’ (2012) – this is a band which have carved their own path and made music of spellbinding immediacy. ‘Magma’ – album no. 6 – sees the band at a cross-roads. Do they continue to walk the path well-trodden or try new paths? Much like Mastodon several years earlier, this is an album which sees Gojira polish their rough edges, simplify their sound somewhat, and put their melodic tendencies to the forefront. Unlike Mastodon, however, Gojira still sound very, very convincing when they are not trying to be the heaviest matter in the universe.
‘Magama’ is not a sell-out record. The may be less blisteringly heavy than the band’s past three releases, but you can’t really imagine much of this getting prime-time rotation. The sense you get when listening to this record is that things have softened somewhat for artistic reasons: the lyrics frequently touch on the loss of the Duplantier brother’s mother, and the sombre, more melancholic feel of the album seems genuinely result from that. This, then, is not an ‘up’ album, despite its simpler approach. Nor is it an instant record in a way that earlier Gojira albums are – there are subtleties and nuances at work, and the songs are very much ear-worms. Where in the past Gojira had a tendency to go all-out all of the time, here the dynamics are subtler. There are lashing of Killing Joke-style atmospherics at work, and this makes some of these songs more moving than metal-staccato usually allows. Joel Duplantier’s use of clean vocals adds to this, making these songs touching and elevating them above much of metal’s middle-ground.
But don’t be fooled into thinking that Gojira have ditch their cornerstones of their sound. The polyrhythms, eerie melodies, and crunching bottom-end are all still there in droves. And the riffs are typically mighty – this is a band that can compete with the Mustaines, Hetfields, Dimebags and Tipton/Downings in that area. ‘The Cell’ has a riff which could level blocks; ‘Silvera’ is a twisted rhythmic assault which combines complexity with catchiness; and ‘The Shooting Star’ features a dinosaur heavy riff which captures all that this album is about – less frenetic than in the past, more sparse in approach, but still utterly mesmerising. There is little here that doesn’t sparkle.
Many have already hailed ‘Magma’ as the metal album of the year. I’m not so convinced. It feels like a transition record, the sound of a band in transition between their ultra-metal phase and whatever will come next. Whatever you think about Gojira, however, they are one of those handful of bands – like Meshuggah, early-Mastodon and Faith No More – who don’t lend themselves to easy categorisation; the sort of band where the memory of the first listen is ingrained in the memory. ‘Magma’ is certainly a noble addition to that legacy, even if it doesn’t quite reach the status of classic. A beautiful, moving musical statement.
katina (02-14-2017)
Fallujah – Dreamless (20160
We have a tendency to celebrate bands who cross genres as inventive. But sometimes the results just sound messy rather than memorable. ‘Dreamless’ – album no. 3 from San Francisco’s Fallujah – is a case in point. This is essentially Death Metal spliced together with the more atmospheric end of djent, a sound which feels schizophrenic – like Mike Tyson suddenly interrupting a beat-down to offer his thoughts on whether essence precedes existence. It’s all very admirable – ‘Face of Death’ injects the normal Death Metal pummel with programming to make it more affecting, if less immediate – but it often feels like music stuck between two worlds rather than moving forward. There are certainly moments to celebrate here – ‘Abandon’ sounds like a heavier Deftones, and the proggy-groove of ‘The Prodigal Son’ makes for a killer tune – but elsewhere (‘Amber Grace’) ‘Dreamless’ is an impenetrable mess.
Goatsnake – Black Age Blues (2015)
The component parts of Goatsnake are highly impressive – vocalist Pete Stahl (Scream, The Desert Sessions), guitarist Greg Anderson (Sunn O))) and rhythm section Guy Pinhas and Greg Rogers (The Obsessed) all of have impressive pedigree on the metal underground – but the whole is all the more staggering. ‘Black Age Blues’ is a perfect title for this doom perfection, an album which is heavier than Iron Man’s insurance premium without being remotely extreme. The songs take the elemental parts of rock ‘n’ roll an amped them up, existing on the cusp of where jams become fully songs to contain the looseness and vibrancy of a performance. It is a wonderful affair. Opener ‘Another River To Cross’ begins proceedings with a swift kick to the nuts – Sabbath is a lazy comparison, the spartan wall of sheer power owes far more to Kyuss or Candlemass. ‘Elevated Man’ is dinosaur-plodding majesty, a slab of doom from the finest blacksmith’s anvil, and the album progresses with riff after riff after riff (‘House of the Moon’, the title track) delivered by Anderson’s guitar replete with a tone which could make Satan shit himself – there are moments here where the band sounds as powerful as the sun dying.
Like the best doom and stoner, the songs are simple and uncluttered and played with tons of balls and zero pretence and the power that this produces is perfectly captured by Nick Raskulinecz’s crisp production. ‘Black Age Blues’ is a rampantly old skool record, but it is not an exercise in indolent nostalgia. Rather than trying to re-capture the past, Goatsnake serve up a very human, genuine album. Closer ‘Killing Blues’ captures the essence – an explosion of riffs which marries metallic majesty with the purest emotive expression.
Binnie, please stick to reviewing albums that rock about as much as the Van Clichegar catalogue. That's all these "rockers" around here, can handle. I posted a full length Avatar concert, and it was too heavy for them.
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From the Vaults: Bathory – Twilight of the Thunder Gods (1991)
Bathory are a band which has been much emulated but never replicated. Hordes of copyists have emerged since their mid-80s eponymous debut, but few have really come close to capturing the evil magic – the presence – of this band’s music. Like Celtic Frost, Death and Hellhammer, Bathory must be seen as one of the most important extreme metal bands, part of the DNA of the darker end of metal. What strikes you about Bathory, however, is how un-extreme it is. Growly vocals aside, much of ‘Twlight….’ – Bathory’s sixth album – is restrained, with the emphasis placed on composition and when they thank a host of classical composers as inspiration, you get the sense that is more than pretentiousness – rather than just being gun-metal grey, there are lashing of atmospherics here which add to the eeriness. Equally, while Bathory are clearly satanic, they are not so in the same way that Mercyful Fate are – quoting from Nietzche, this is meant to be provocative rather than cartoonish, and the title-tracks exploration of the end of idols is sophisticated indeed. This music is less for the mosh-pit and more for those dark, introspective moments.
In 1991 Metallica took a feral type of metal into the mainstream. In 1992 Pantera repeated the trick. Despite being established, Bathory at this moment in time were making music for the underground – this sounded (and sounds) like it belongs in an evil little corner of the cosmos which is not quite of this earth. The usual metal clichés – machismo, hyperbole, over-playing – are absent. It is noticeably less heavy than the albums which preceded it, ‘Hammerheart’ (1990) and ‘Blood, Fire, Death’ (1988), but don’t be fooled into thinking that this means it lacks oomph. Put simply, the riffs are unreal: ‘Under The Runes’ and ‘Blood and Iron’ are propelled by gargantuan guitars. Like much of the doom music which would come later in metal history, the aim here is to use the repetition of simple patterns to create an all-encompassing musical vision. The results are not necessarily instantaneous, but on repeated listens you get the sense of something very powerful bubbling away at the blackened heart of this music. Above all else, ‘Twilight…’ is a testament to main-man’s Quorthon’s abilities as a songwriter: ‘To Enter Your Mountain’ is what Page and Plant would have sounded like with Nordic blood pulsing through their veins.
The reverb-heavy production may date this album, but getting past it reveals a bonafide classic. Often described as an ‘epic’ album due to the length of its songs and scope of its soundscapes, ‘Twlight…’ is in fact something more than that. It is, like the best of music, a spiritual experience.
Haken – Affinity (2016)
London’s Haken are one of the very best twenty-first century heavy-prog bands. This is undoubtedly music for the neck up, but it is drenched in emotion and humanity; and although the playing is dazzling, it never obscures the emergence of often stunning songs. ‘Affinity’ is the band’s fourth and best record. Balancing a conscious display of majesty without ever veering into pomposity, being heavy without ever becoming over-bearing, and using complexity to enhance rather than to obfuscate, this is a genuine contender for rock record of the year.
Haken certainly keep their ears tuned into prog’s passed. There are more than knowing nods to Floyidian soundscapes here, for example. But ‘Affinity’ is no exercise in nostalgia. With a very crisp, contemporary production this is a world away from bands which share the ‘prog’ label – Dream Theatre, for example. It seems that ‘prog’ is now more of an aesthetic than a sound: ‘Death Metal’ or ‘Thrash’ give you a good sense of what a band will sound like and what the component parts of its sounds will be, where ‘prog’ doesn’t. Opener ‘Initiate’ balances Anathema-esque beauty with slashes of heavy guitar injecting violence and menace, building and spiralling through multiple parts to become something startlingly good. ‘1985’ takes things in a heavier direction, making nods to the ‘80s without trying to sound explicitly like that decade and displaying a sonorous muscularity which is never quite abrasive enough to be ‘metal’. Haken are certainly up-to-speed with developments in that genre, however, with the odd nod to djent and the jazz infused metal of bands like Meshuggah. Fifteen-minute epic ‘The Architect’ is propelled by riffs which are highly complex but still crush, and throughout the record the control of the composition is dazzling, with tightly-wound melody lines from vocalist Ross Jennings holding everything together. Jens Borgen’s sympathetic mix only enhances that sense of control, making very complex, sophisticated music feel instantaneous.
This is an album which can be enjoyed in equal measure by those who come to with no sense of prog’s history and those who do. For the latter, there are knowing winks to the dark, synthy moments of ‘80s prog. Think Yes on ‘1983’ or ‘90125’. Think reverb. Think epic orchestration and lavish production. But don’t be fooled into thinking there is no emotion here. ‘Eathrise’, for example, is utterly uplifting and irresistibly catchy, and driven by a luscious opening riff. For all the labyrinth playing, complex arrangements and super-human musicianship, at its heart Haken is a band, a bunch of people united in performance. And it is that performance which makes this more than merely impressive and takes it on to something moving. Previous albums ‘Aquarious’ (2010), ‘Visions’ (2011’) and ‘The Mountain’ (2013) had hinted that Haken might be more than just an exceptional prog band – by growing together as a band, they’ve become something like Rush or Iron Maiden, a great band period.
From acoustic shimmer to metallic bluster, this is a band which deserves to share some of the success which other ‘proggy’ bands (Opeth, Dream Theather) have had in the previous decade. When you can write songs as achingly beautiful as ‘Bound By Gravity’, you are capable of making life a little bit better.
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