Album Reviews

[binnie]

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.

[binnie]

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.

[katina]

Tesseract will be releasing their new album Polaris on September 18th. !!!

[katina]

Binnie, the new album teaser is fantastic, and just today Tesseract launched "Messenger " track from Polaris.

[binnie]

Looking forward to Tesseract a great deal

[binnie]

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.

[binnie]

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.

[binnie]

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.

[binnie]

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.

[binnie]

^^^^^^

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.

[Seshmeister]

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)

I don't usually bother with Megadeth but new band sounds good, I like this Brazilian guy's guitar playing.

[binnie]

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.

[binnie]

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.

[binnie]

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.

[binnie]

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.