Some bands around have names that describe what they are before you have even started listening to the album. Bleak and cold, Hypothermia’s depressive and atmospheric rock music embodies the slow freeze of the condition itself. The album contains a simple mix of introverted, despondent guitar lines that seem to exist outside of conventional timing as they drag their way from beginning to end, driven solely by a mid-paced drum beat.
At 8 and a half minutes long, opener ‘Invokation’ set the tone of the album, introducing the droning chords that runs through virtually the entire record. Each track adds a little extra to the sound, with ‘Svartkonst’ and ‘Regnvals’ introducing vocal and violin lines that murmur beneath the chord lines. The biggest change however comes in with closing track ‘Vy,’ the slightly uplifting harmonies sound positively joyful compared with the previous tracks and prove relief from the monotonously depressive sound.
Svartkonst (Agonia) captures the feel of early Forgotten Tomb’s acoustic tracks, however Hypothermia has crafted sound that relies far more on the subtle layering of parts than most bands. Distorted riffs, string sections and vocal flourishes hide beneath the tide of jangled guitar chords, slowly adding colour to the droning tone that purveys throughout.
With no main focal point, this album could easily be passed up as background music or dismissed as sounding empty and without focus, but this would be a mistake. For those listeners willing to give the album a chance there is a lot of to gain from the sound. Svarkonst will take you on a 35-minute journey though some of the bleakest emotional paths, with only those who can make it through to the end of the album provided with the faintest glimmer of relief.
Based on German mathematician Georg Cantor’s ‘Continuum Hypothesis’ and bridled with expectant technicality, US death metaller’s Continuum have hardly been reserved and uninspired on their début release, The Hypothesis (Unique Leader). Taking lyrical inspiration from such a complex subject matter (if you want a detailed rundown of this particular hypothesis, you’re going to have to google it this time) is a very bold statement for a band who are clearly looking to stand out.
Their variant of technical death metal is expectedly complicated and initially hard to follow and does show some signs of forward thinking but even still at times proves somewhat familiar. The shifts in tempo and between differing harsh vocal styles bear a striking resemblance to the likes of The Black Dahlia Murder through the album’s majority, whilst the occasional breaks with atmospheric interlude passages do nod towards the more prog leaning counterparts like Fallujah so there is some lack of its own identity.
For the most part it is all done very competently and far from overly complicated for the sake of actual song writing. Production is precise and short, sharper song durations make it all the more digestible until the elephant in the room, the final track, the nine-minutes long ‘Steppes To Ascension’ which brings any momentum they built to a crashing halt. With no deviation it continues on one solitary pace with a jarring guitar riff that repeats throughout, this seems laughable considering the seemingly effortless intricacy the rest of the album shows.
A very promising début that shows all the ability in the world but, in the case of the album’s conclusion, perhaps possessing a fault on the quality filter.
People love a great comeback story. Anything that shows a triumph against some kind of adversity, especially if you created it yourself, they will lap that up all day long. Some musical acts leave at the top of their game, while others split just in time before fizzing out creatively. When it came to Faith No More’s acrimonious split in the late 90s, it felt like it might have been coming for a while. The band certainly did not burn out their creative spark, nor did they wear out their welcome with fans. They were so prolific, so versatile, and so smart, you knew there would never be another act quite like them. When they came back in 2009 as a live act, they opened their shows with ‘Reunited’, the soft R&B song from 70’s duo Peaches and Herb, as a nod to the fans. After testing the waters with each other, the band decided they could stick together and make new music. Well the long wait is over and Sol Invictus (Reclamation Recordings/Ipecac) is here to put to rest any doubts you may have had about their comeback.
Opening with the title track, the band picks up basically where they left off with 1997’s Album of The Year (Slash). The track sounds right at home with their past, yet has some interesting elements on its own. Gradually easing in like a foot in a fuzzy slipper, it’s an “ah yes…” moment you get to have with yourself as the track envelopes you. Recurring lyrical themes on the album about regeneration, reinvention and that other “re” word we spoke of already begin popping up here too. ‘Superhero’ reminds one that despite being remembered for big commercial hits, at their most accessible they were never a true singles band that was pappy and easily digestible. ‘Sunny Side Up’ is an angsty ballad with great lyrical grist. Most of the tracks have a sonic kinship of the beloved King For A Day…Fool For A Lifetime (Slash) album too: hidden meanings, lyrical twists, massive piano and bass driven songs as a foil for Mike Patton’s emotive soulfulness and rubbery larynx.
Faith No More, by Dustin Rabin
‘Separation Anxiety’ is the heaviest track on Sol Invictus and certainly if you are the type of person that pines for the first three FNM albums, this is the song that will resonate with you the most. ‘Cone of Shame’ is wildly dynamic and strange, but also driving and melodious. Patton shows off the most of his insane vocal ability here too. The perfect blend of all of the rollicking elements of the band you want in one track.
Although Billy Gould, who produced the album (except for Patton’s vocals) is always seen as a driving force of the band and definitive mouthpiece, Roddy Bottum’s keyboards dominate this album. All of his weird 80s synth-pop craziness, mixed with his deft jazzbo piano stylings are ever-present in songs such as the torchy ‘Rise of the Fall’, the sinister yet beautiful ‘Matador’, and elsewhere.
‘Black Friday’ is a vampy Cramps-style number, complete with slapback guitars and whipping beats. This is also the track where guitar stands out the most, lending to the idea that without being the heavy guitar driven band of their youth, there is room for all of the parts of the monster to flourish properly. ‘Motherfucker’ is a conundrum of a song. You intrinsically laugh at the notion of a clever pop song as a massive ‘fuck you’ to those in power. Mike Patton as a new-age politicized Beat Poet? Why not! However, the song is undeniably subversive and smart, as is all the best material this band has put out. The build up to the chorus is glorious, Patton’s notes held like the vibrato of a well-bowed cello, hitting you where you live.
‘Back From the Dead’ may sound like a 60s slice of pop, right down to its jangly guitar and churchy “ahs” and “oohs” backing vocals. However the sentiment of “Welcome home my friend…’ in the lyrics could totally be a very meta, and self-referencing. After all; resurrection may be for those who got it wrong the first time, but the same cannot be said of Faith No More whose return is a welcome and worthy one. Let’s hope it lasts as long as it can.
Hailing from Ohio, US death/thrash outfit Unkured self-released their sophomore album, Mutated Earth, late last year. Sliptrick Records has signed the band and re-released the album to give it a better chance of reaching a wider audience.
Currently a two-piece consisting of Cody Knarr (Vocals & Guitars) and Ben Stanton (Bass) after the recent departure of Adam Green (Drums) the band are progressively-leaning Thrash/death crossover outfit with some big ambitions. Knarr’s vocals are very reminiscent of Chuck Schuldiner’s tortured screams, both in sound and phrasing, while the music behind it is equally adventurous as Schuldiner’s later albums with Death.
An ever-changing maelstrom of riffs, no two minutes on Mutated Earth are the same, let along two tracks. From the opening assault of the title-track, Mutated Earth is a swirling barrage of staccato shredding, blast beats and snarling vocals. It’s relentless but the sheer volume of riffs on offer keeps this sounding fresh.
Aside from the heavy Death influences and a general aura of 90s death metal, there are moments recalling classic Slayer and the occasional nod the more melodic elements of Gothenburg-based melo-death, especially in the solos. The likes of ‘Anti-Terraforming’, ‘…Into Crumbling Ruin’ and ‘They Live, We Sleep’ are vicious but intricate, combining the seriously brutal with some impressively technical musicianship – especially on the solos and in the outgoing Green’s drumwork.
There’s nothing resembling hooks or choruses; this is complex and demands your attention to be fully appreciated. Mutated Earth is heavy, ambitious and adventurous. Not afraid to show off its influences, it balances paying tribute without being derivative better than most. Well worth a listen if you want to hear the music of Death brought back to life for 45 minutes.
It has been three very quick years since one of, if not the biggest, power metal acts Sabaton released their crowning glory Carolus Rex (Nuclear Blast), a bastion of bombastic brilliance, and one of the best Euro Metal albums. However, guitarist Rikard Sundén, drummer Daniel Mullback and keyboardist Daniel Mÿhr departed shortly after its release to establish Civil War with Astral Doors’ vocalist Nils Patrik Johansson.
Power Metal is an odd genre. Everyone is a strong, clean technician and there are so many competent acts, though it is very hard to be exceptional and damn near impossible to be distinctive or unique. Sabaton achieved that latter feat, and not just through having a characteristic vocalist in Joakim Brodén. Considering their contributions, the trio of ex-‘ton’s have done well to try and strike out and find their own voice again and while there are moments, such as ‘USS Monitor’ where you can imagine Brodén’s voice enhancing the chorus (Johansson, with a higher pitched Kai Hansen meets Biff Byford reedy voice, doesn’t have half the charisma of the Sabaton man), in the main they have managed to clear enough space to pitch their own towel on the crowded beach of Power Metal.
So, half the battle won, and Gods and Generals (Napalm) begins well enough with a rapid fire pairing of ‘War of the World’ and ‘Bay of Pigs’. However, things quickly go downhill, with the duo of ‘Braveheart’ and ‘The Mad Piper’, which it has to be said are simply fucking naff and frankly embarrassing; keyboard led, nursery rhyme melodies, (not to mention the dog-shit bagpiping) and lyrics that can’t have taken more than five minutes to write. Fortunately things do pick up and by the time the more epic ‘Schindler’s Ark’ comes around, a track with a vocal nod to legendary David Coverdale, and a musical tip to Angra, the early missteps are nearly forgotten, if not forgiven.
But, as I said, it’s easy to be a decent power metal band, but it’s hard to standout; one, because these are narrow lines we’re trapped between, and two, because the very best prove how big the gulf in class is. Civil War has a heritage to hook people in, but they need to improve the music to get them to keep coming back.
Say the words ‘black/thrash’ and the images are instant; bullet belts, leather, re-heated Venom riffs and a slightly worrying pre-occupation with witches, necrophilia, the devil and his merry pals. Greece’s Satan’s Wrath is no exception. They heartily embrace all the clichés of this dirty genre and probably view musical progression like an invitation to a Christian poetry reading. However, they are blessed (by Satan, naturally) with a fiendish musical talent and with third album Die Evil (Metal Blade) have pretty much recorded an unofficial soundtrack to Hammer Horror classic The Devil RidesOut if it were ever to be re-made with Fenriz as the director.
Led by former Electric Wizard bassist Tas Danazoglou, a man with more facial tattoos than Britain has Lib Dem MP’s, Satan’s Wrath, as previously mentioned, deal in serrated blackened thrash riffs that race along like bats out of hell, gruff, barked vocals aided by a liberal dose of reverb, and the belief that metal became irrelevant when more than a dozen people became aware of Bulldozer’s existence. However, they have cast their yellow eyes a few years further back than the mid 80s as demonstrated by the strong NWOBHM influence captured throughout Die Evil, ensuring things don’t get too one dimensional. This is best demonstrated on ‘Coffinlust’, which shamelessly recycles the riff to ‘Two Minutes to Midnight’. Of course, it’s catchier than the common cold.
Whether it’s the frequent over-the-top guitar solos that erupt like grasping hands from a shallow grave, the rampant, galloping riffs on the likes of ‘Raised on Sabbaths’ and ‘Satanic War’ that defy you not to headbang and claw the air like a 14 year old kid who’s just discovered Slayer, or the goofy, trashy horror vibes that just don’t stop being old, Satan’s Wrath may be a one trick pony, but they’re one that gives one hell of a kick. Forget progress, just stick on Die Evil and submit to Satan. It’s the only way.
It’s very rare in this game to be surprised. As in genuinely “Well, I wasn’t expecting that!”. Tribulation managed it earlier in the year, but very few do as expectation is there, or at least, a preparation for what a band is going to sound like. So, fair play to God Damn. The Midlands outfit aren’t the sort of band I usually go for, and Vultures (One Little Indian) isn’t the sort of album you’d normally associate with Ghost Cult, but the quality of their hybrid tunes stands out, which is why if even a little of what is written about it below piques your interest, dive in my friends.
The album kicks off with ‘When The Wind Blows’, a quirky Clutch groove that flitters into a raspy distorted vocal, before ‘Silver Spooned’ dances from a grungey intro then barrels into a lo-fi desert groove with dreamy melodies. ‘Shoeprints’ dances and swaggers, wide-legged, from sassy Monster Magnet territory, ending up in a dark, heavy powerful alleyway. ‘We Don’t Like You’ touches heavy psych, Nirvana juvenility and jangle, dark Seattle melodies and the very best of British alt rock, while the eight-minute ‘Skeletons’ has moving acoustics, world-weary vocals and expansive brooding fuzz.
Hand in hand with the alternative rock is a host of fuzzy doom, and it’s the amalgamation into stoner, alt noise, groove, rock and doom n’ roll via Sonic Youth, Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins and a host of other versatile references that makes this an interesting proposition. Vultures doesn’t just do one thing, except for be God Damn. They’ve successfully built themselves a whole new box, over to the side of all the normal boxes, and are all the better for it.
More than a hotch-potch of references from yesteryear, throughout they deliver on the song writing front too, even if they do self-consciously shy away from “the anthem”. There is more than enough to suggest a potential cross-over to more mainstream success in their future. Despite the lo-fi chops, God Damn could equally pulling in the plaudits at a Reading/Leeds type festival. Vultures should open some pretty big doors for them.
In an age where all the mystique has vanished from the extreme music scene, Drudkh’s uncompromising no live shows/interviews/promo pictures/music videos approach is to be cherished, for it is the music they produce that is the only thing that matters. Of course the flipside to this is that the band are open to unsavoury accusations from those who seek to project their own agendas; despite no association with extremist ideology, Drudkh have been branded a far-right band primarily due to their lyrical references to nationalist Ukrainian poets.
While the four members may still draw inspiration from the glories and failings of their country’s past, it’s likely that the present is currently a far more pressing concern. The conflict in Ukraine shows no sign of abating, and with death and destruction a daily concern, it’s a wonder that they have been able to record a new album. But we should be thankful they have, for tenth full-length release A Furrow Cut Short (all Drudkh releases are Season of Mist) is one of their finest efforts to date.
The first thing one notices after pressing play is just how much passion Drudkh have captured here. The dry post-rock flavours of 2010’s Handful of Stars and the somewhat formulaic approach of 2012’s Eternal Turn of the Wheel have been consigned to the dustbin, with a much-needed injection of self-belief and renewed vigour the order of the day. Opening track ‘Cursed Sons’ follows the traditional Drudkh pattern of rapid, windswept riffing, energised percussion and sorrowful melodies, but is just that much more alive and urgent than on recent efforts, with vocalist Thurios in particular sounding mightily pissed off. The second part of the track slows down towards the end before racing off into an utterly triumphant finish complete with a fantastic guitar melody.
The influence Drudkh have had on current UK darlings Winterfylleth is evident in the magnificent driving riffs and subtle soaring keyboards of ‘To the Epoch of Unbowed Poets’, a stirring call-to-arms that harks back to the glory days of 2004’s Autumn Aurora, conjuring images of soldiers marching to war under a glaring sunset. Elsewhere, ‘Embers’ slows the pace slightly for a thoroughly melodic and more introspective six-odd minutes before the aggression returns with a vengeance on the first part of eighteen minute two-part epic ‘Dishonour’, with part two giving off a strong Burzum feel with its gloomy refrains and vicious, snarled vocals.
This is still main man Roman Saenko’s baby of course. As the main songwriter and guitarist, the man appears to be a bottomless well of creativity, and his guitar playing is capable of evoking emotion like few others. Well versed in black metal lore yet resolute in his vision, Saenko is a true artist who has made a fiercely private band from Eastern Europe into one of the most respected and revered acts in the annals of underground music. The music he and his comrades have captured on A Furrow Cut Short may not quite hit the heights of 2006’s magnificent Blood in Our Wells but it has come pretty damn close. Like all great Drudkh releases, this is an album that reveals more with every listen, a rousing yell of defiance backed by a passionate beating heart.
In some people’s minds the history of the 1970s goes a little bit like this: a grey decade of bad fashion and even worse food. Three day weeks and striking miners; thank goodness for punk and Year Zero. Then there’s the rest of us who know a lot better – the 70s were packed full of heavy metal bands with the love of the riff, the art of the song and the odd pint of patchouli oil. It’s this latter version of history that Minnesota’s Wicked Inquisition have tapped into. And how.
This highly enjoyable album contains more cap-doffing to the 70s than a milliner’s emporium and the reverence for times past is so genuine and warm hearted that you can’t help but feel a large amount of affection for the band and their record. I’m writing this review with the record playing loudly in the background and I can see from the reflection in the laptop screen that I have a grin that is a mile wide; it’s THAT kind of fun.
This is doom metal, but doom metal put through a focussed, song-writing lens. The band appear to have as much in common with Blue Oyster Cult as they do with Sabbath and their ilk which is no bad thing. On ‘Black Magick Nacht’, the album’s opening salvo, we are treated to something akin to a riff masterclass that is genuine and genuinely thrilling. The tempo drops for the Sabbath dripping ‘Crimson Odyssey’ whilst the upbeat riffing of ‘Sun Flight’ is not unlike early period Iron Maiden mixed with Trouble.
‘M.A.D.’ is the most obviously “doomy” of any of the tracks here, a snaking riff and metronomic pace adding to the mood and ambience with aplomb. Meanwhile, ‘In Shackles’ is what would happen if Sabbath had downed a bottle of groove juice before recording Sabotage (Vertigo) it’s mighty and gripping.
The opening riff on ‘Tomorrow Never Knows’ is straight off AC/DC’s Highway to Hell (Atlantic) masterpiece before jogging off for more 1970s riff shoplifting like some indiscriminate hoodlum. If you think I’m being critical, you couldn’t be further from the truth; the riffing here is joyous and inspired and the love of the music that this band have is as true and deep as the quality of their playing.
Wicked Inquisition (Tridroid) imbues a love of doom metal with an attention to detail and delivery that is admirable and enviable. It is not going to win any prizes for originality but for well-crafted heavy metal, it will do me, and you, very nicely indeed.
Galley Beggar is an English Folk Rock band who combines traditional songs with a modern Psychedelic sound. This sextet proves that the genre of Folk is still very much alive and kicking, and thrives on musical innovations.
As the title suggests, Silence and Tears (Rise Above) is quite a melancholic album. While this is generally not an issue, I did find the lyrics in ‘Adam and Eve’ to be a bit off-putting… I guess a bitter and judgemental Adam complaining to God how everything was Eve’s fault isn’t really my style. Musically, however, this is an excellent song which shows off the beautiful combinations of acoustic guitar, bass and violin, as well as the dominant female vocals. Another song where the vocals are really powerful is ‘Empty Sky’. The contrast with mellow violins and the excellent bass lines makes the song very dynamic.
The vocals on ‘Pay my Body Home’ are also really good: they are not so much main and backing vocals as dual leads, with another line on guitar. The guitars sound very distant, and the overall vibe of the song is very mellow. However, the best vocal combinations on this album are in ‘Deliver Him’, where the arrangements are almost overwhelmingly beautiful.
The guitars on ‘Sanctuary Song’ are dance effectively, and it is certainly my favourite song of the album. While it still has a touch of that melancholy that infuses this album, the lines of the guitars also have the sound of hope and a hint of cheerfulness.
Galley Beggar is helping folk music evolve and Silence and Tears may well be a crucial step in that evolution. It certainly is a very interesting one.
