Korn will headline Australia’s traveling touring festival Good Things 2024. The festival is set to take place over three dates later this year in December in Melbourne, Sydney, and Brisbane. Other bands on the fest includes Sum 41, Violet Femmes, Kerry King, Mastodon, 311, Billy Corgan solo, and many more. The full line up is listed below. Tickets are set to go on sale Thursday August 29th at 10 AM AEST. Continue reading
I’ll level with you all now: I’m not the biggest fan of Aussie quartet Mammoth Mammoth and their raucous, ‘Eddie and the Hot Rods with added beef’ style of Punk rock meets Stoner. It’s great in the background of your local rock pub, though, and true to form ‘Life’s A Bitch’, the opening track of third album Volume IV – Hammered Again (Napalm), fair rattles along. The ensuing ‘Lookin’ Down the Barrel’ contains a seedy riff reminiscent of compatriots AC/DC, and while there’s a slower pace than its predecessor it carries high that retro Blues metal feel, oozing a snarling attitude; the full production aiding a sound akin to Jet‘s older, heavier and just as sexually confident brother.
There is a swagger for sure, the crunching riffs and engine grease of ‘Electric Sunshine’ accompanied by thundering drums and a cocksure vocal sneer, occasionally carrying Hetfield-esque intonations. The rolling, driving riff of ‘Fuel Injected’, meanwhile, bumps and grinds along a dirty desert road: gasping, pouring in sweat like the meanest Harley you ever saw, hunting voraciously for his Mrs. Davidson. The savage power of ‘Black Dog’, its rapidly chopping yet groove-ridden riff imbued with a lead solo, possesses a gravelly intoned yet heartfelt vocal – which comes as something of a shock.
For all the driving rhythms, fulminating sound and sexy insouciance, the band’s delivery has in the past been missing real feeling, a sense that their creations actually mean something to them. Tracks like ‘…Dog’ express that sense of emotional attachment which allows the listener to really engage, making this album a more complete experience. That sleazy boogie stomp reappears toward the latter end, however, at the expense of all the silly emotional stuff: the dirty leads of ‘Sick (of Being Sick)’ snaking around the dancing, brutal groove.
Indeed, the band’s final attempt at concentrating on wistful meanderings, album closer ‘High as a Kite’, is a clunky and overlong, often prosaic way to end. Maybe it’s just miserable old me: maybe it’s time indeed to let party infect the Low End. Victor Meldrew here, The crimson Avenger, prefers otherwise…
6.5/10
PAUL QUINN
Ye Gods, it’s The Strokes vs. The Ramones!
Let’s get something straight here – I do know the difference between a lo-fi production, and an inferior one. The latter is riddled with poor judgement and imbalance, and is a shocking crime deserving of heavier punishment than docked points in a review. So there. Thankfully there’s no such (lack of) quality afflicting the Gone With The Night EP (self-released) from Los Angeles trio of cousins Wake Up Lucid; just a delightfully warm fuzz leaving a layer of dust atop a seriously sleazy, often laconic sound. Riffs hit perfect time with hi-hats in the drifty yet energised Punk-Blues ballad ‘Let It Roll’, the descent of the lead riff producing a serious, irresistible cab hum.
Opener ‘White Collar Love’ is the definitive embodiment of the initial comparison: a twisty, laid-back, wasted Indie, drenched in that delicious fuzz, Ryan Baca‘s voice blending the drawl of Joey Ramone with Julian Casablancas‘ aural swagger and sexy grit; whilst lead flexings evoke Jet‘s similarly snot-nosed yet emotive irreverence. ‘Don’t Fear’, paradoxically, is a dreamy ballad, its attitude encased in the lazy yet plaintive melodic vocal; the twangy, sparing lead riff smacking beautifully of a Country Americana also reflected in the Acoustic Folk-driven, closing title track. It’s completely at odds with the waspish fizz, pummelling rhythms and anguished roars of the rolling, driving ‘I Want’ and it is this diversity, whilst still retaining the core sound of filthy old Blues Rock, that really gives these boys an added spark.
The deliberate, pensive ‘Get Fucked’, laden with psychedelic effects, lights up with wrought leadplay and a fiery, bitter vocal that ain’t a million miles away from Cobain country. The increasingly vital bassline and riff completes the most radio-friendly (despite the title) yet still credible rock sound I’ve heard for some time, and in the case of these naughty chaps that’s a good thing.
7.5/10
PAUL QUINN