The Ghost Cult album round up is back in town, for your vulgar delectation…

Time and again the adage that absence makes the heart grow fonder has proven ripe for the plunder of the nostalgia-craving rock and metal populace, as even Coal Chamber were afforded a heroes welcome on their return. Yet, what the distance of a generation can do is to allow certain acts that were deprived the levels of success they deserved at the time to obtain that level on their return, as over the years word of mouth has spread and they move from cult figures to genuine inspiration to many later bands. So, is Long Way Back To The Moon (Music Theories/Mascot), Galactic Cowboys’ first for seventeen years, the key to redemption? Opening with the Metallica meets the Beatles stretch of ‘In The Clouds’, like a more palatable Voivod, it’s clear that the Cowboys still have something of note to say musically. It’s an interesting combination as the album unfolds, and while not all of the verse vocals are quite up to the mark, the harmonies and choruses are delightful, sitting somewhere between The Wildhearts at their lightest and Ghost, and all while the riffs chug and roil underneath. There is an inherent “Ninetiesness” to this all and some of the fat does need trimming, but a valid and worthwhile return is made all the better by the fact that the Cowboys have lost none of their distinctiveness, nor appetite for individuality. [7.0]

Nine songs, all four minutes or less, and The Unguided are going for the lean, mean, fighting machine approach to their electro-synthy-pop-Death Metal. Yes, it’s initially as odd a combination as it sounds, and And The Battle Royal (Napalm) definitely has a few elements that rub the wrong way, particularly the growled vocals that are, to say the least, more annoying than impactful, all snarled and rolled around with an inflection to them that grates, but these are balanced out by the cleaner vocal counterpart, that brings the type of Euro-melodies that are not a million miles from Amaranthe. At the moment, the idea of The Unguided definitely outweighs the execution, but that isn’t to say there isn’t something here, it’s just that they have yet to master the other component parts that aren’t the post-Gothenburg riffs.  [6.0]

And speaking of Gothenburg, here be the progenitors of it all, In Flames with a surprise covers EP Down, Wicked and No Good (Nuclear Blast) that’s been dropped ahead of the bands’ upcoming European run with Five Finger Death Punch. Comprising of four songs, each is surprisingly light on guitars, even considering the recent direction the Flamey ones have been going down, and while fully competent, this does all feel a little underwhelming. These are some great songs that, while further progressing the bands recorded output towards the dark-electro route, these versions don’t really do justice to. A minimalist version of ‘Down In A Hole’, featuring Anders Friden and a synth is a weird way to promote a tour with one of metal’s biggest and boldest live bands and, unless this is a pre-cursor to where IF are going next and they’re looking to pave the way, it really seems a confused and unnecessary release. [5.0]

Staying within the Swedish borders, and continuing further down the downer spiral, featuring former In Mourning and Katatonia drummer Daniel Liljekvist, we have the world’s second hardest band to Google, V (BritRock brats A claiming the overall title) and their first full-length of morose quasi-Doom, semi-post-Metal Pathogenesis (Suicide). Spreading their melancholy over six elongated tracks, opener ‘Souls Of The Nearly Departed’ is a bit of a halfway house for the world-weary, neither fully morose, devilishly heavy, nor much darker than dusk, almost as if they haven’t fully committed to the misery, which is fine as its hypnotic churn instead works its tendrils around you instead, enveloping in a grey atmosphere. Not fully bleak, but always murky, when V step more into the post-Rock side on second track ‘At The Edge Of Time’, with its complimentary guitar parts jangling under the harsh throaty cries and it’s touches of Silent Enigma (Peaceville), that is where their true potential can be seen. The whole album feels like a precursor to something darker, nastier, and more chilling that V never quite get to this time around, but if the idea of less abrasive elements of Neurosis lurching into downer and Doom territory appeals, then Pathogenesis is one descent you will want to embrace. [7.0]

After all that Doom and gloom, it’s definitely a welcome change of pace that Stormbringer, um, bring. Now, these are a name that has been doing the rounds at the lower-end of the UK scene for a few years now, and fair play to this quintet for not giving up on their ambitions with a third album of classic Hard Rock married to Heavy Metal on Born A Dying Breed (Attic) that, while, at times a bit too much of a throwback to a bygone age, is actually full of the swagger, energy, enthusiasm and hooks that nod the head that likes to nod. Like Skid Row covering Come What(Ever) May (Roadrunner), ‘Bleed For’ is an undeniable anthem, with some clever melodic guitars underpinning a powerful vocal performance from Jimi Brown. It’s good to hear a band not resort to raw-throated vocals, and retain integrity to their sound, though consistency is an issue, as for every killer there’s a filler, but this is still a decent effort. [6.0]

Resolutely retrö and fiercely Metal til Death, New Zealand’s Stälker fly the flag of Teutonic eighties Speed Metal high and proud on their début Shadow Of The Sword (Napalm). Resplendent in leather and chains (and no doubt rivets, too) the power-trio sound like they’re having an absolute blast on pummelling tracks like ‘The Mutilator’, or the more melodic ‘Path Of Destruction’, reminiscent as it is of Show No Mercy (Metal Blade). Bonus points for the rhyming title of ‘Satanic Panic’, with its riff plundered straight from the early Kreator playbook, and for the spidery intro to ‘Evil Dead’, underpinned by pure Les Binks drum-fillage before its metal thrashing mad torso explodes into view. There is nothing new about what Stälker bring to the table, but if it’s riff-ripped, raw animal carcass you want, with yelping and high-octane jagged riffing, then you really can look no further. [7.5]

STEVE TOVEY