Paradigms continues to expand their sonic scope, while continuing to champion awesome and obscure heaviness. A look at past Paradigms releases reads like a list of aQ faves: The Angelic Process, Decrepit Spectre, Fog In The Shell, Gnaw Their Tongues, Hjarnidaudi, Wraiths, Woburn House, Ondo, Titan, Throne Of Katarsis, Utlagr and more, and the oddly monickered Bosnia fit right in. Hailing from Denver Colorado, this trio specialize in filthy, downtuned blackened doom crust, equal parts, Neurosis, His Hero Is Gone and other purveyors of gritty doomic filth, but these guys also inject some serious blackness into their crush and pummel. Woozy clean guitar parts wrap around tribal drumming, before launching into a lurching sprawl of blown out doom-ed black buzz, the vocals a monstrous guttural howl, the arrangements complex and a bit mathy, with stretches of lumbering chug bookending chunks of funereal slow motion crawl, leading straight into awesomely tangled obtuse melodic breakdowns, before exploding into raw feral bursts of punkish blackened pound.
Bosnia might be a bit too punk for the more troo grim metal hordes, but folks who dig shit like Kylesa, Baroness, Minsk, Damad and even sludgier shit like Eyehategod and the like, will probably dig this BIG time.
LIMITED TO 500 COPIES!
Christina Martinez, her husband Jon Spencer, the rest of the band.
After the major label debacle of Geffen getting bought up by some other huge megadork, Boss Hog's 4th album needless to say didn't end up on a major. As consolation to returning to the indies, Cristina does appear naked on the cover (as she did on all of her AmRep albums). Musically, Cristina and company (including her husband Jon Spencer) have produced another saucy swampy rock album of bluesy grit.
NOW ON VINYL, VIA THE FLENSER!! Originally put out on cd a few months ago by Profound Lore, now this "dense, twisted, chaotic masterpiece" (to quote ourselves, see the next paragraph) is issued as a deluxe double lp with a large 12-page pamphlet-style booklet. What we said before:
Full-length number four from the Bay Area horde, and their most fully realized work to date, but what else did you expect? All Fours is a dense, twisted, chaotic masterpiece.
"At Night" wastes no time - a noisy squelch and then a dive right into frantic black metal madness. Like we've said in every Bosse-De-Nage record we've reviewed, the marriage of the Slint-ish/post-rock elements and the black metal fury gets better and better. That becomes especially apparent as the first track comes to an epic, crashing close, with a simple melancholy guitar line lead by ferocious blast beats (the drumming on this record, by the way, is seriously jaw-dropping!).
Despite being a band that gets lumped in with the Alcest/Deafheaven school of blackgaze, All Fours doesn't rely on the typical "huge" shoegaze guitar sound - the atmosphere here comes from a crystal clear but layered and dense production. And honestly, a welcome departure from a lot of the overblown black metal records already out there.
"Washerwoman" is the clear opus on this record - a song we imagine they've been trying to write since their inception. The Slint comparisons are hard to deny here (song title and content alike), but this is far from a rip-off. Everything that made Slint such a powerful band, Bosse-de-Nage captures here - subtle instrumentation, raw intensity, and powerful dynamics.
By the time the record ends, you get the feeling you're watching a bands original vision and current talent coalesce perfectly - All Fours is the record Bosse-De-Nage has been working towards all these years. Highly recommended!
Full length number three from this mysterious SF black metal horde (who are rumored to share a drummer with SF true metal legends Slough Feg), and their grim blackened buzz meets nineties style post rock hybrid seems to still be in full effect, but this time around they've managed to more seamlessly integrate the two sides of their sonic personality. Where on past records, the schism between clean guitar post rock lope and blasting blackened buzz was pretty distinct, the transitions more abrupt, here, the band seem much more comfortable switching from sound to sound, the best moments being when the blackness bleeds over into the post rock, and vice versa, and that change is all over III, the band unfurling epic blasts of buzzing blackened post rock epicness, and infusing their grim buzz with rhythmic mesmer, and strange haunting spoken word, it definitely makes for a more fully formed and full realized sound.
And on past records, it also took the group a while for the black metal element to assert itself, the group spending much of their time in post rock / math rock territory, but here, the opening track explodes immediately into some frenzied mathy blackened buzz, the sound immediately displaying the above mentioned hybridization, sure there's frenzied riffing and blasting beats, but the sound is soaring and melodic, and the drumming is not just a blast beat, it's wild and insanely chaotic, some of the most amazing drumming we've heard in a while, and that too is all over the record. But all that said, the band still do love to bring it down, and sprawl out into moody minimalism, just check out the gorgeous "Cells", with its spare slowcore guitar, and martial snare, all beneath more spoken word, the melodies chiming, the Slint comparisons more than apt in cases like this, but these guys do it so well, and the band are never that far off from exploding into some frenzied and mathy blackness, those parts making this probably the most black metal sounding of any of the BDN records. But having said that, the heaviness is shot through with loads of melody, and reminds us more of stuff like Fell Voices and Sleepwalker and Deafheaven and Cold Body Radiation and the like, soaring, melodic, buzzy post black metal, that manages to be catchy and sort of pretty but still buzzy and brutal and heavy. And pretty goddamn great.
We should also mention the lyrics, which are amazing, not at all lyric-like, more like short flash fiction, just check out the lyrics to "The Arborist":
"You have disregarded the advice of your friends and entered an accord with the Arborist. He brings you to his special garden at the center of which is a circle of trees. Next to each tree is a sort of well that is meant to receive a person. You will be placed in one of these holes with only your head above the earth. For several weeks you will engage in intense mediation on your novel existence. However, you will eventually grow anxious and restless. Others will come and take their places in the holes near you. You will find it easy to befriend them, but as the months pass you will begin to bicker and experience jealousy. At length, the affinity you feel for your tree becomes something which you cannot express and you will form a union which excludes all others. Soon after, young roots will find you and brush against your most tender places."
Wow. So nuts. We were convinced there was no way that was what he was actually singing, and when we listened close we couldn't discern enough from the raspy vokills, but then suddenly the song shifted, and the vocals changed to a cleaner, spoken word style, and lo and behold, those were in fact the actual lyrics. And all the tracks are like that. Genius!
Hailing from right here in the Bay Area, this mysterious black metal horde recorded this, their debut, way back in 2007, and, except maybe for a few demo cassettes back then, it's only finally seeing the light of day now, which is a shame, cuz this utterly rules, some of the weirdest, coolest, most idiosyncratic black metal ever, a killer mix of Slint like post rock, grim true blackness, and blown out shoegazey drift, it's hard to imagine that most aQ metalheads wouldn't totally lose their shit over these guys, we sure did. And we know nothing about this band, who they are, where they're from exactly, why this record took 3+ years to come out, and how the fuck a band this cool and weird could remain so far and so long under the radar. Well, we're just glad this record is finally getting the attention it deserves. And that we an finally gush about this incredible, fucked up and far out slab of outsider blackness.
The record begins with the very Slintish "Marie", Spiderland guitars, simple spare drumming, lots of space, the only hint of blackness is the tortured vocals, draped over the song's skeletal framework, loping, hypnotic, mysterious, haunting, it's not until 2 minutes in that the blackness drops, frantic double kick, frenzied riffage, and the vocals, seriously tortured and anguished, but even then the minor key post rock vibe manages to still run through the rest of the track, and hell, the rest of the record. The track finishes off with a cool stretch of processed feedback, before launching into the second part of the 'Marie' suite, "Marie Pissed Upon The Count", a seriously frenzied black metal blowout, the vocals just incredible, emotional, not shrieked, more a guttural howl, the whole song manages to be almost a single extended blast, except for a brief respite part way through, where the band slips back into that Slinty lope, but just for a moment. And then there's the untitled third track, that is ridiculously melodic, hazy and shoegazey and washed out, still buzzy, but the melody is so weirdly sunshiney, and the song does eventually transform into something way more fierce and black, but that dreamy vibe infuses the whole track, a weird grim / glowing hybrid. And so it goes, the whole record is a constant sonic exploration, draping those sinister demonic vokills over pretty spidery guitar jangle, sending insectoid riffing into soaring swells of surprisingly major key melodies, injecting weird mathy almost progginess into long stretches of contemplative drift, while much of this sounds like classic Norwegian style blackness, lots of it sounds like some nineties math rock band, imagine a Don Cab / Darkthrone hybrid, or A Minor Forest crossed with Mutiilation, or some sort of Slint / Alcest / Burzum blend, the record lurches and swings from harsh heaviness to melodic lope and back again, finishing off with a long stretch of looped guitar and minimal drumming, that manages to be way more powerful and intense than a blown out black blast closer, which is precisely why this record is so special, and so fucking incredible. And even though technically this is from 2007, there's no way this isn't another black metal of the year contender...
Record number two from this mysterious Bay Area black metal horde, a group whose sound is as heavy on the Louisville math rock is it is on the black buzz, and on record number two, they stretch out even further, exploring their math/post rock tendencies in ways that were only hinted at on the first record. And as one might expect, the mix of black buzz and meandering post rockisms sounds much more organic this time around, where as the first time the separation between the two sounds was more jarring. The production is much improved too.
Just take the opening track, "Volume Two Chapter One", with its darkly dynamic opening, all start stop minor key minimalism, a melancholy minor key melody played out over a series of chords, left to ring out, the drums crashing in time, the only hint of the blackness to come is a howled vocals way way off in the distance, it's two minutes before this crashing moodiness segues fairly smoothly into some frantic blackened blasting, the drums not your typical blastbeat, instead offering up all manner of unlikely fills, the result a little off kilter, and a good balance to the otherwise more traditional back buzz guitar and shrieked vox. And then with about 2 minutes to go, the buzz seems to dissipate leaving just a churning, chuggy chunk of palm muted math rock, that sounds more like Don Cab than Darkthrone, pounding out the final minute in a tangle of mathy rhythms.
The post rockisms are much more subtle in "Marie In A Cage", which plays more like your standard buzzing blackness, but there are those wild chaotic drums, not to mention a killer part midsong where the band switch into a brief bit of proggy mathiness that KILLS, but it's brief and soon the band are galloping along again, never fully shedding that mathiness, but instead incorporating it into the black buzz. "The Lampless Hours" is another track that starts out sounding like some lost mid nineties Touch And Go record (minus the flurries of double kick drum), before launching into a stretch of 'proper' black metal. "The Death Posture" is a churning doomy plod, peppered with burst of blasting black metal, and again here, the band are much more subtle with their deployment of post and math rock elements, which ultimately makes for some truly idiosyncratic black metal. And finally, the record finishes off with the 11+ minute "Why Am I So Lovely? Because My Master Washes Me.", which again sounds on the surface traditionally blackened and buzzy, but the post rock undercurrent seems to seep through every chance it gets, finally shouldering the blackness out of the way at about the midway point for a stretch of gnarled mathiness, that manages to not sound out of place, instead, it's drawn in shades of black, that make it that much easier for the band to slip back into the furious buzz that finishes off the record, until the last minute when the recording seems to go haywire, everything blown out and distorted finishing off in a wild squall of Merzbowian white noise.
Definitely less post rocky than its predecessor, but again, the trade off is that the post rock element doesn't sound as much like a gimmick, instead sounding more an actual intrinsic part of BdN's sound, and while black metal dabblers may not be so inclined this time around (although they should be), true grim metalheads might just find their horizons being expanded, whether they realize it or not.
Hmmm, that album title makes me think of... poop. Don't know about you, but it's not exactly what I want to have in my head while listening to music... unless it's G.G. Allin of course, but even then! Anyhoo, Boston Spaceships is yet another one of Robert Pollard's alter egos. Well, actually it's an altogether new band, a supergroup even! The band lineup includes Chris Slusarenko (also of GBV and Takeovers) and John Moen (also of Decemberists and Mr. Malkmus' Jicks). On the road, they're joined by Tommy Keene and Jason Narducy (who also plays with Bob Mould). Don't worry, it's the farthest thing from poopy. This is Pollard and co. at their loosest limbed indie rockin' fun. Reelingly garagey raucous with lots of wonkily bent electric guitar chords, lyrical silliness ("Soggy Beavers"?!), vocal yowling, primal drumming. Sounds like they had great time recording it. You might have just as much fun listening too, especially if you're a Pollard fanatic. Highlights: "Andy Playboy" and "Rat Trap"!
We got a handful of super limited-run shirts from SF eco-terrorist, drum and dulcimer, one man black metal band Botanist, featuring the super striking cover art from his third album, Doom In Bloom, M.S. Waldron's depiction of the demon Azalea. It features the Botanist logo on the back. Printed on American Apparel shirts, black with a white print. Limited to 100 shirts total!
We got a handful of super limited-run shirts from SF eco-terrorist, drum and dulcimer, one man black metal band Botanist, featuring the super striking cover art from his third album, Doom In Bloom, M.S. Waldron's depiction of the demon Azalea. It features the Botanist logo on the back. Printed on American Apparel shirts, black with a white print. Limited to 100 shirts total!
We got a handful of super limited-run shirts from SF eco-terrorist, drum and dulcimer, one man black metal band Botanist, featuring the super striking cover art from his third album, Doom In Bloom, M.S. Waldron's depiction of the demon Azalea. It features the Botanist logo on the back. Printed on American Apparel shirts, black with a white print. Limited to 100 shirts total!
Hot on the heels of last week's listing of the new double cd release on tUMULt from Bay Area hypersonic one man black metal band Mastery, comes something even stranger. Yet another mysterious one man black metal horde (and another double disc), rising from the fertile SFBM underground. The scene that gave us Leviathan, Draugar, Crebain, Pale Chalice, Sutekh Hexen, Dead As Dreams, Dispirit, Horn Of Dagoth, Pandiscordian Necrogenesis, Amocoma, Elk, Necrite, Palace Of Worms, and more, has now spawned the oddly monikered Botanist, an odd moniker only until you realize that all the songs here are about plants and flowers, and all of the artwork following suit, old faded images of strange and wondrous flora and fauna, but that's not nearly the strangest thing about Botanist. Nope, the strangest thing would be the fact that there are NO guitars, and there is NO bass, just drums, vocals, and HAMMERED DULCIMER. That's right, eerie and esoteric, buzzing and baffling, drum and dulcimer driven black eco-terrorist black metal. And as strange as that may sound, the SOUND is even stranger, the dulcimer a particularly haunting and strangely melodic instrument, the typical black metal riffs replaced by maniacal dulcimer melodies, repeated motifs, flurries of cyclical notes, the sound buzzy and brutal in it's own way, with an almost old-timey feel to the sound, the drums mathy and intricate, often sounding strangely like a demonic drumline, the vocals a hellish raspy croak, but it's the dulcimer that drives the sound of Botanist, a distinctive metallic buzz that's eerily creepy and darkly cinematic, with many of these tracks sounding like they could be some alternate soundtrack for a lost seventies giallo or some super surreal art film.
The tracks are mostly short sharp blasts of metallic buzz, the dulcimer alternatingly offering up dense overtone-rich clouds of frenzied tangled melody, but just as often, unfurling stretches of haunting atonal shimmer, occasionally spacing way out, and weaving sprawling dreadscapes of minor key tension and slow build terror, the sound of the dulcimer so strange, sometimes evoking old pianos in ghost town saloons, other times impossibly melodic, with the songs on the verge of pure poppiness, or as poppy as something as twisted and confusional like this can be. The sound of Botanist is definitely black metal, in form, in structure, in intent, in spirit, even to a degree in sound, but it's also something wholly other, the relation between the rhythms and the melodic component of the dulcimer's haunting buzz and chiming metallic tone hard to quantify, and obviously even harder to accurately describe, then there's the dulcimer's traditional station as a folky Appalachian instrument, it all adds to the crazy, confusional appeal of Botanist's warped sonic world, one that manages to be both heavy and buzzy and blackened, but also haunting and hypnotic and strangely soundtracky, a swirling, hazy, chaotic sound, densely melodic, relentlessly rhythmic, fantastically fucked up and bafflingly brilliant.
The discs are housed in super swank full color mini-lp gatefold style Stoughton jackets, with a thick booklet of lyrics, the jacket and booklet both printed to look like an antique botanist's field journal. ENTER THE VERDANT REALM!!
The return of Botanist, the SF eco-terrorist black metal one man band, whose curious weapons of war are pretty much just drums, voice, and hammered dulcimer! Sound strange, and it most certainly is, and black metal fans have definitely been divided, too weird, and no nearly metal enough for some, perfectly twisted and mesmerizingly oddball for others. We, like many of you, definitely fall into the latter camp, our own Andee having released Botanist's double disc debut, a sprawling collection of short sharp bursts of brittle steel string buzz and furious blasts, but as you may have gleaned from the title of Botanist's third record, some things have changed this time around. Most notably, the tempos are slowed way down, the tonal palette too is much more varied, the sound surprisingly lush, and describing some of the sounds here as simply doom, would definitely be selling short the twisted innovation and warped songcraft on display here.
Just check out the record opener "Quoth Azalea, The Demon (Rhododendoom II)", a swampy, dirgey, slithery creep, that reminds us more of groups like Woven Hand or Der Blutharsch, where the dulcimer manages to sound almost like a piano at times, and the melody is so wistful and melancholy, if it weren't for the raspy vokills, this could be some dark apocalyptic folk ballad. And so goes the rest of the record, unfurling darkly and dramatically, from loping doomy dirge, to creepy slo-mo deathmarch, to strangely propulsive almost post rock, much of this record sounding like something, that sans vox, could be on Temporary Residence, brooding, slow building, majestic and epic, all shot through with a healthy helping of drone, the steel string buzz creating mesmerizing layers of subtly shifting overtones, and woozily tangled melodies. Some of the tracks have a distinctly cabaret vibe as well, but even then, the sound tends to return to something more stately, trudging through thick fields of chiming notes and shimmering buzz, the vocals often buried, but sometimes a demonic croak, and strangely enough, the vocals tend to be at their most demonic, when the music is at its most lovely, which makes for a potent, and fantastically confusional combination.
Fans of the first record will definitely not be disappointed, but folks into brooding slow build post rock, and dark drone driven doom folk, should give a listen as well.
As a bonus, also included is a second disc, called Allies, which finds friends of the Botanist creating their own tracks using drum tracks from the Doom In Bloom sessions. The sounds and songs vary sonically quite a bit, there's strange staticky hushed ambient drift, crushing sludgey slo-mo doom, blown out, soaring hazy mid tempo black metal buzz (courtesy of the Botanist's other band, Ophidian Forest), some corrosive noise too, but there's a clutch of tracks that might surprise folks, the witchy, doomy female vocal driven Bestiary and the pop flecked almost Opeth-y melodic metal of Lotus Thief, but probably our favorite reworking comes from Arborist, whose version starts off as a sort of lumbering, lo-fi bit of screamo-y slo-mo creep, which explodes into a super psychedelic blast of woozy heaviness, the riffs and melodies slipping and sliding and seeming to melt before your very ears. Definitely hope the Arborist and the Botanist do more together in the future (which seems likely, as the Arborist actually records all the Botanist records)...
And if three records is still not enough Botanist for you (it's not for us!), fear not! There are already at least three, if not more, full lengths on deck. We can't wait!
Full length number FOUR from this local eco-terroristic, drum and dulcimer driven black metal one band band, whose first two records were released as a pair on our very own Andee's tUMULt label. At the time, as much as we loved Botanist's unique and warped take on black metal, we must admit we were a bit surprised when Botanist sort of blew up, making all sorts of year end top ten lists, even popping up on Pitchfork and NPR. We sort of assumed it was too weird to have much appeal, but it seems if anything, that weirdness only made Botanist more appealing to non-metalheads, and in another surprise twist, brought out the open minded experimental streak we had just assumed most metalheads might be missing. But it's easy to see why people dig Botanist. Heck Andee dug his stuff enough to put it out. Botanist's music is dark and twisted, droned out and buzzy, weirdly melodic, super trance-y and hypnotic, it's really barely black metal, the blasting drums and the croaked squashed spider vocals really being the only truly black metal elements, even the metallic buzz of the dulcimer, aping the sort of fast picked BM riffing, ended up sounding like something wholly other. Botanist's third record, on the Total Rust label, found him slowing things down, and creating his own version of doom, which like his take on black metal was appropriately and fantastically skewed. Which brings us to IV, the fourth Botanist full length in two years, and once again, a whole sonic shift has taken place, this one more difficult to quantify, it's not black metal, and not doom, and this time around, we're tempted to say it's not even really metal. Actually not at all.
When we first heard it, we were struck by how melodic it was, almost shoegazey, the dulcimer strangely recorded, to turn the brittle buzz of the early records into something washed out and gloriously distorted, single strings ring out like prismatic chordal swirls, and the more rapid passages blur into blissed out streaks of hazy blurred dreaminess. In fact, minus the vocals, Botanist IV sounds more like some experimental shoegaze pop band, even the blast beats seem to have been ditched in favor of more midtempo rhythms, and then those are mostly buried in the mix, beneath clouds of reverberant overtones, of whorls of FX drenched metallic chords, that all seem to sprawl like cloud of metallic shimmer, laced with keening melodies, the whole thing surprisingly sun dappled and prismatic, if we didn't know the grim story behind the lyrics of IV, we'd assume the theme was one of redemption and rebirth, or in keeping with the Botanist's themes, IV plays out like the soundtrack to post-human earth, once the human race has been eradicated, and the world is a lush nirvana, where nothing but plants grow, allowed to spread out endlessly, and reach forever heavenward. And heck, even with the vocals, it's hard to disguise the lush melodic elements that pretty much entirely define the sound of IV.
Considering the sort of surprising widespread appeal the first few records had, we can only imagine this one might just be the real big breakthrough record for Botanist, it's so catchy and melodic, so pretty and lushly layered, that it's hard to imagine that even some of the more metal averse folks wouldn't or couldn't be won over. We even suggested to the Botanist himself that he should release an instrumental version, imagining the pure psychedelic shoegaze sonic bliss that would result, but for now, IV's glorious mix of lush sonic bliss and grim verdant vokills is more than enough.
Another mysterious missive from the verdant realm, which can only mean one thing, the return of THE BOTANIST, our local eco-terrorist drum and dulcimer black metal band, who in fact, have actually expanded into a proper band, and have been playing shows throughout the US recently, which we have witnessed and are pretty incredible. We can also say, that in some ways, they're even better than the records. Odds are you've likely never heard dueling hammered dulcimers, amplified and projected at great volume, accompanied by blasting drums and wheezing sruti box. But ultimately hearing the strange metallic tones of the dulcimers are extreme volume, it's kind of transcendent.
That's not to take away from the records at all, this new one, the fifth in three years (and that's not counting a split with Palace Of Worms, or the fact that they/he skipped number five for some reason), is another fantastic , psychedelic, bizarre and beautiful assemblage of sounds, most of which at this point are really only tangentially black metal. Vokill rasps, check. Furious blast beats, check. But beyond that, Botanist tend to explore some other sonic world entirely, one that's droney and atmospheric, minimal and MAXimal at the same time, the melodies of the dulcimers, no matter how much they're meant to emulate blackened riffing, sound way more alien, and abstract, in some ways it reminds us of the just intonation black metal of Jute Gyte, but the furious flurries of notes, the harmonics and the overtones, all blend into one glorious, constantly shifting organic field of sound, that's utterly mesmerizing and totally immersive, as if all the other elements are just window dressing for these thick, hypnotic, psychedelic swirls of sound. And very much like on IV: Mandragora, the songwriting seems to continue to follow a similar path, one that gets less and less black with every release, with many of the tracks here downright melodic and lovely, sans the harsh vokills, they sound more like Mono or Mogwai, epic and majestic, sun dappled and hopefully, burnished with some inner light, the melodies glowing, the sound emotional and lush, prismatic and heart wrenching. And yeah, sure there are moments more grim, but those just offer shadow, to the rest of Flora's sonic light.
Our favorite local one man arboreal black metal band returns with a brief split to tide us over until the impending release of both V and VI, in the seemingly (and thankfully) unending barrage of material oozing up from the verdant realm. And like the last few Botanist releases, the tracks here find the sound drifting every further away from the black metal that, only barely, defined the sound of those recordings. Minus the vokills, the three tracks here are super melodic, a little bit blissy and shoegazey, and sound like some avant post rock you might find on Temporary Residence. Even with blast beats and a healthy heaping of buzz, the tracks here soar and chime, you can almost envision some wistful sad boy vox and suddenly, this is total teenage mixtape material, which is not a bad thing at all. And when the blacker elements are woven in, it becomes something truly strange and wonderful, and just further demonstrates, why the rest of the world, particularly the non metal portion, have been flipping out over this stuff.
Palace Of Worms on the other hand, is something all together more metallic and grim, their opening track a creepy doomy sprawl, all woozy minor key melodies, haunting ambience, the sound slowly building to something much more epic and majestic, a black buzz, but one that's muted and swaddled in swoonsome synths, giving the sound a sort of washed out and sun dappled quality, which makes it a good match for Botanist. But those moments of wispiness, are more than made up for by some more intense, growly, metallic black buzz, the sound deftly balance between the two, songs flitting from grinding downtuned churn, to synthy shimmer, to crystalline post-metal drift and back again.
Great great stuff from both bands, and some seriously awesome cover art to boot!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Final missive from AQ faves, the mighty Botch. A wicked math-metal machine spitting out super heavy but surprisingly melodic and complex metalcore. As good if not better than Coalesce and Converge but criminally underappreciated. Maybe that's why they're calling it quits. Must be tough making music this amazing and not being HUGE. Every song is an epic, with earth shaking bass rumble, keening high-end guitar melodies, lots of chugging riffs, stop/start rhythms, pounding drums and one of the fiercest roars around. WAY RECOMMENDED!
Reissued on vinyl for Record Store Day, this was the final record from these aQ beloved math metal crushers. This new version comes pressed at 45rpm on nice thick vinyl and housed in a heavy full color jacket, an almost exact reproduction of the original, here's our brief review from way back in 2002:
Final missive from these aQ faves, the mighty Botch. A wicked math-metal machine spitting out super heavy but surprisingly melodic and complex metalcore. As good if not better than Coalesce and Converge but criminally underappreciated. Maybe that's why they're calling it quits. Must be tough making music this amazing and not being HUGE. Every song is an epic, with earth shaking bass rumble, keening high-end guitar melodies, lots of chugging riffs, stop/start rhythms, pounding drums and one of the fiercest roars around. WAY RECOMMENDED!
Weird and heavy metalcore in the tradition of Coalesce, Isis, Cave-In and other Hydrahead bands. Completely amazing. Maybe even better than the new Coalesce, just for the, uh, weirdness of some of this.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Local indie combo The Bother make straightforward gentle indie pop with laidback emotive male vocals. Breezy and wistfully bittersweet tunes with a few nice moody embellishments -- an effected vocal, a textural sound sample, a slinky tremolo'd guitar, a flute -- for added atmosphere and loveliness. A bit reminiscent of early Beck and Pavement.
Such warm, woozy and punchy West Coast pop delivered spot on by this San Francisco band, whose songs are made for that Eternal Summer we all wish we could live in. Their sound reminding us of everyone from the breeziest side of The Kinks, the more at ease moments of The Strokes, a looser Vetiver, a more sun soaked Grizzly Bear, some of that early solo McCartney magic... In other words the Botticellis write some pretty damn great irresistible pop that we can imagine being blasted in the bedroom with the window open so everyone playing in the backyard could soak up these infectious sounds. Pressed on clear vinyl and sounding better and better each time we lay the needle in its grooves.
Bottleskup is another twig off of the Godspeed You Black Emperor tree. Actually its the alias of One Speed Bike which is the alias of Aidan Girt. He's also the figure behind Exhaust not to mention being the drummer for GYBE. Whew! As with 1SB, he reveals the rougher, unpolished improv side of the Montreal music scene. Often hit or miss, and often a bit crude in its execution, Girt's work is more about capturing the gritty moments. Loops and samples are thrust through a cloud of belching distortion and processing. Murky, repetitive, and verging on industrial. The first song features a simple dorky keyboard melody awkwardly tapped out with one finger. The final track burbles with the decaying theme song from Entertainment Tonight. Vocals are few and far between but when they do surface, they're muffled spoken or hollered proclamations. All the while foggy four on the floor dance beats churn away like lo-fi house tracks. Ten tracks in all, each with very long song titles like "If anyone in this high school fucks with you for being a freak, just tell me and I'll kick their ass" and "The day I defeated the Dutch shelf toilet".
The hard-rocking midwestern all-female, uh, hard rock outfit Bottom steps up with debut cd release on Man's Ruin. Heavy, with elements of '90s noise/grunge rock and '70s style swagger. Kinda aggro.
Geez, it's getting increasingly difficult to keep up with the flurry of release activity bursting forth from the Absolutely Kosher label these days -- Sparrow, Jim Yoshii Pile-Up, Moggs, Get Him Eat Him, and the list goes on! We welcome this new EP from veteran indie popsters Bottom Of The Hudson as a kind sign that they A.) don't want to crowd out their labelmates, B.) don't want to monopolize the stereo, C.) do want to keep the listener wantin' more or D.) all of the above? For these half dozen songs they've injected a dose of the sullen mope-rock dourness of Interpol into their rough-hewn popcraft a la Guided By Voices to good effect. Lots of those ol' familiar strummy-jangle indie rock guitars, boyish vocals and an occasional lo-tech drum machine percolating up every so often.
Here's the latest full length from Bottom Of The Hudson (their follow-up to 2003's The Omaha Record), and it reveals a transformation of sorts. While they're still deeply immersed in their studies at Robert Pollard's School of Fine Indie Pop, they've tempered and toned things down considerably. Gone are the pounded piano lines and crunchy guitars in favor of slower, more contemplative folksy acoustic numbers. Perhaps they've been (re)visiting Pink Floyd's Meddle album? Be sure to stick around 'til the final two songs 'cuz they're definitely the stand-outs (although when the second to last song started we thought it was a cover of k.d. lang's "Constant Craving"... which in itself is a fine song, innit?). And if this isn't enough B.O.T.H. for ya, expect a new ep sometime this summer!
We were hugely obsessed with Silkworm back in the day. Their sound was dark and mysterious, a twisted and bitter take on indie rock, that somehow managed to evoke an impossible hopefulness at the same time. Super melodic, 3 of the 4 members sang, each with a distinctive style and sound, which only helped make their music more interesting. Joel Phelps, perhaps our favorite voice of the bunch, left, and the band sadly seemed to flounder. Then tragically, their drummer was killed in an automobile accident, and Silkworm was over.
Tim Midgett and Andy Cohen, the core of the original Silkworm lineup, reunited and returned with Bottomless Pit, which to our ears sounded like a return to the classic Silkworm sound, still dark, and depressive, brooding and melancholy, but the songs were so good, tense and dramatic and crazy catchy, with the spirit and feel of classic nineties indie rock, but dragged into the now. That first record was on seriously heavy rotation around here, spacey and spare, warm and lush, totally fantastic and a surprising return to form.
And now we have Blood Under The Bridge, which offers more of the same, dark and haunting stripped down indie rock. Someone here thought it sounded like Belle And Sebastian, but to our ears it sounds like a heavier My Dad Is Dead, the same sort of world weary, minor key, broken hearted indie rock. The first few tracks slither and creep, hushed and minimal and way moody, but then comes "Summerwind" that is surprisingly rocking, and sounds like it could have been yanked off one of the classic old Silkworm records, and the vibe and the energy stays relatively charged after that. "Late is another slow burning rocker, with some gorgeous vocal melodies, and some awesome psych guitar, "Dixon" alternately pounds and broods, with an almost surfy sounding main riff, but then "Kiss Them All" brings it back down again, a gorgeous low slung pretty indie pop drifter, that sounds as good as anything these guys have done.
The last three tracks bounce back and forth between energetic crunch, spacey contemplative drift, and driving grooves, finishing off with the epic emotional catharsis of "38 Souls" that feels just like the old days.
Along with the Versus record reviewed elsewhere on this week's list, a sweet dose of classic indie rock, the kind they don't really make anymore (except when it's made by the guys and gals who were making it the first time around anyway!)...
There's something magical about the original lineup of a band. The struggle to make it, the passion of music making. That's why debut records are often so powerful, and while many times it's the best record a band will ever make. Subsequent records are made over the course of a year or two, but that first record was the culmination of a lifetime.
In some cases, bands soldier on, when a key member departs. Sometimes the band reinvent themselves, instead of desperately trying to recapture a sound that was partially created by the absent member. But sometimes, when a member leaves, it's like a death knell for the band.
With Silkworm, when Joel Phelps left, the band seemed to falter big time. They made some decent records, wrote some killer songs, but Phelps was the spark, the magic went missing for the most part when he left. But they soldiered on, until the tragic death of drummer Michael Dalquist in 2005. The band wisely chose to hang it up, as Dahlquist was a founding member and his powerful idiosyncratic drumming style was a critical part of Silkworm's sound.
The surviving members resurfaced as Bottomless Pit a year or two later, and something happened. Not sure if it was going through the death of Dahlquist, or the new members, but this is the best Silkworm have sounded since the Phelps days. And while it may be called Bottomless Pit, sonically it sounds as much like Silkworm as ever. Which in this case is a very good thing.
A dark dark record. Moody and melancholy, introspective, but plenty rocking. The two Silkworms, Tim Midgett and Andy Cohen, still share vocals and songwriting duties, so in that way too, the sound is reminiscent of Silkworm. The drums are simple and solid, the guitars tightly wound, the vocals weary and warm, the second track "Dogtag" might be the best Silkworm song Silkworm never wrote. A muted chug holds the song down, never quite exploding into full on rocking, the tension building and building, the vocals managing to sound so worn and haggard, and yet so emotional The menacing groove of "Dead Man's Blues" sounds angry and bitter, with a jagged tangled chorus and a killer wall of gnarled guitar second half. "Human Out Of Me" is another brooding slow burner, all warbly falsetto vocals and simple cyclical melody. The record finishes up with "Sevens Sing", a real strange one, with haunting processed drums, shimmery talk box sounding guitars, space-y effects, all very spare and whispery, distant whirs and wheezing strings, the song never really getting loud or aggressive, just slithering along intensely, sounding like it might never end, a gorgeous, yet tripped out funereal indie rock sprawl.
Way recommended. Old Silkworm fans, this might be the one you've been waiting for...
Killer double disc compendium collection pretty much everything recorded (two albums, a 12", and some bonus tracks) by this incredible indie rock band, an offshoot of the late great Silkworm, a group we were hugely obsessed with back in the day, and still love. Silkworm's sound was dark and mysterious, a twisted and bitter take on indie rock, that somehow managed to evoke an impossible hopefulness at the same time. Super melodic, 3 of the 4 members sang, each with a distinctive style and sound, which only helped make their music more interesting. Joel Phelps, perhaps our favorite voice of the bunch, left, and the band sadly seemed to flounder. Then tragically, their drummer was killed in an automobile accident, and Silkworm was over. The surviving members resurfaced as Bottomless Pit a year or two later, and something happened. Not sure if it was going through the death of Dahlquist, or the new members, but it was the best these guys had sounded since the Phelps days. And while it may be called Bottomless Pit, sonically it sounds as much like Silkworm as ever. Which in this case is a very good thing.
Hammer Of The Gods (from 2007) is a dark dark record. Moody and melancholy, introspective, but plenty rocking. The two Silkworms, Tim Midgett and Andy Cohen, still share vocals and songwriting duties, so in that way too, the sound is reminiscent of Silkworm. The drums are simple and solid, the guitars tightly wound, the vocals weary and warm, the second track "Dogtag" might be the best Silkworm song Silkworm never wrote. A muted chug holds the song down, never quite exploding into full on rocking, the tension building and building, the vocals managing to sound so worn and haggard, and yet so emotional The menacing groove of "Dead Man's Blues" sounds angry and bitter, with a jagged tangled chorus and a killer wall of gnarled guitar second half. "Human Out Of Me" is another brooding slow burner, all warbly falsetto vocals and simple cyclical melody. Hammer Of The Gods finishes up with "Sevens Sing", a real strange one, with haunting processed drums, shimmery talk box sounding guitars, space-y effects, all very spare and whispery, distant whirs and wheezing strings, the song never really getting loud or aggressive, just slithering along intensely, sounding like it might never end, a gorgeous, yet tripped out funereal indie rock sprawl.
The second Bottomless Pit album, 2010's Blood Under The Bridge, offers more of the same, dark and haunting stripped down indie rock. Someone here thought it sounded like Belle And Sebastian, but to our ears it sounds like a heavier My Dad Is Dead, the same sort of world weary, minor key, broken hearted indie rock. The first few tracks slither and creep, hushed and minimal and way moody, but then comes "Summerwind" which is surprisingly rocking, and sounds like it could have been yanked off one of the classic old Silkworm records, and the vibe and the energy stays relatively charged after that. "Late is another slow burning rocker, with some gorgeous vocal melodies, and some awesome psych guitar, "Dixon" alternately pounds and broods, with an almost surfy sounding main riff, but then "Kiss Them All" brings it back down again, a gorgeous low slung pretty indie pop drifter, that sounds as good as anything these guys have done.
The last three tracks on Blood Under The Bridge bounce back and forth between energetic crunch, spacey contemplative drift, and driving grooves, finishing off with the epic emotional catharsis of "38 Souls" that feels just like the old days. A (bitter)sweet dose of classic indie rock, the kind they don't really make anymore (except when it's made by the guys and gals who were making it the first time around anyway!)
This new collection also includes the 2008 Congress EP which we were never able to get, as well as three previously unreleased and unheard (by us at least, and probably you) tracks, all of which, sound as good as anything on the records proper.
Two different Silkworm related releases on this week's list, a new one from Joel Phelps, an early member of the group, whose super distinctive vocals defined what might be our favorite Silkworm records, and this one, the latest from Bottomless Pit, the post Silkworm project of Andy Cohen and Tim Midgett, and of the two, it's the one that sounds the most like where Silkworm would have headed, and perhaps ended up, had the band not broken up after the tragic death of drummer Michael Dahlquist. And like the last Pit record we raved about on our list, Shade Perennial is another fantastic collection of emotionally charged indie rock, dark, and brooding, heavy and rocking, introspective but aggressive, in fact, the opening track reveals the band sounding heavier than ever, the guitars thick and distorted, Cohen's guitar dense and psychedelic, the rhythm section locked tight, letting the guitars and vocals swirl over the top, the result is haunting and harrowing, tense and intense, as I'm sure we said about the other Bottomless Pit records, they just don't make music like this anymore, except these guys do, and it sounds incredible. We described Bottomless Pit as sounding a bit like a heavier My Dad Is Dead, which is still pretty apt, although, at this point we'd imagine less people know who the hell MDID is than Bottomless Pit, but if you do remember MDID, then a heavier version is definitely a good thing.
Imagine the darkest, moodiest moments of the later Silkworm records, crank up the distortion a bit, and that'll give you a rough idea of Shade Perennial, but like all the BP records, and the Silkworm records too, there's lots going on, and tons of subtle touches that make those records so mysterious and special, the melodies, the textures, the lyrics, the phrasing in the vocals, the arrangements, it's all impossibly meticulous without sounding like it. Much of Bottomless Pit seems to exist in the shadows, a dark, brooding record, even the seemingly upbeat rocking tracks, still seem to be infused with a melancholia, a fantastically depressive modern indie rock classic, with some of the best songs we've heard from both Cohen and Midgett. We've been spinning this pretty much constantly, along with the old Silkworm records it reminds us of...
There's all sorts of metal. Death metal, speed metal, doom metal, power metal, thrash metal, grind metal, tech metal, umm... emo metal, grunge metal, peat metal. Woah! Hold on there. What the fuck is 'peat metal'? Well to be honest, we're not entirely sure. But very much like the 'brown metal' of Lugubrum, there is only one true practitioner of the mysterious black art of 'peat metal' and that would be the strangely named Dutch black metal outfit Botulistum. And while 'peat metal' seems to be some strange subset of black metal, it definitely falls squarely into that batch of black metal we often describe as damaged, demented, bizarre, freaked out, fucked up, definite 'outsider'. You know, Dead Reptile Shrine, Benighted Leams, Furze, Rehtaf Ruo, Spektr, Urfaust and all their black brethren. Strangely enough, one of the fellas in Botulistum also does time in aQ faves Urfaust and he and his partner are also in bizarre black metal outfit Fluisterwoud. And it sounds like it. This re-release features one live 30 minute track recorded at their last show in Belgium in 2004 and originally released as a super limited (to 200) edition and also includes a bonus track called "Mergzuigende Veenpulker", from Acts Of Excrement Terrorism”On The Holy Trinity a split with more of their black metal countrymen, Domini Inferni. The sound is definitely black, but it's so murky and psychedelic and confusional, it almost sounds like a black metal Butthole Surfers. Processed vocals, howls and grunts and squeals and shrieks, echo and careen wildly from speaker to speaker, weird riffs, angular and jagged, everything drenched in reverb and room sound, the drums a tribal splatter, the sound of the crowd almost as loud as the band. It's like if Abruptum were from Texas and smoked tons of weed. Or maybe it's actually peat these guys are smoking. The bonus track is like the live track only a little more structured, a huge slab of druggy delirium minus the crowd sounds and with the addition of a ridiculous drum machine, the snares programmed so fast it almost sounds like a mosquito buzzing, but still a glorious blackened sludgy swirl of fucked up guitars and bizarre vocals. This is truly some seriously noisy and fucked up drugged out weirdness. As much for black metalheads as it is for folks into the the Butthole Surfers, Scratch Acid, Violent Students, and other sludgy drug drenched mayhem. Awesome.
- MPEG stream: One
- MPEG stream: Two
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You might remember a couple months ago we freaked out over a gritty and gorgeous release out of Mali from Pekos and Yoro Diallo. It was the first release on the new Drag City imprint Yaala Yaala, a label specializing in raw music and field recordings from West Africa. After reveling in their first release for a while we thought it was time to move on to their second outing which we're happy to report is just as mystifying, compelling and pleasing as the first. Bougouni is a small city in Mali and it's there and in nearby Bamako where these sounds were recorded, during hot days and balmy nights. The music was recorded everywhere from house parties, at checker games, under the shade of mango trees, etc. Like the best of the Nonesuch Explorer series and the eccentric tendencies of the beloved Sublime Frequencies label, Yaalaa Yaala has managed to capture the sounds of other cultures in a way much more agreeable to our sensibilities and respectful to the music and musicians themselves then the often manipulated, polished and Western-washed versions that ends up at cafes, on slick compilations and in "world music" sections of most record stores. Often when we've traveled to faraway places we wish that instead of a camera we had a really good tape recorder with us as it's often the raw and unadorned sounds of a place and people that truly captures the spirit of that location more then any photograph ever could.
Thankfully, the sounds on Bougouni Yaalali resulted from just that sort of foresight, someone who did think ahead and managed to record all of these amazing sounds during various travels through Mali, allowing us to really get close to understanding the spirit of a place that most of us have never been to (though would kill to visit!!). With simple yet compelling percussion (some of it wonderfully distorted!) and a slew of various instruments, the extremely minimal liner notes allow us to play the guessing game of trying to identify the sources of particular sounds (is that a thumb piano we hear on lots of these tracks?). And even though we can't understand the lyrics the hypnotic and powerful delivery ring true with a passion and emotional conviction that transcends language. Yaala Yaala is two for two so far, we can't wait to hear more!
Ohio metal/punk combo, busy making the devil-sign with their hands held high, however with their tongues firmly in their cheeks... But while the vocals betray their punk lineage, the riffs and licks are truly the devil's music. Hot rockin' Flying V worship, that should go down well with fans of Motorhead, Drunkhorse, Lost Goat...in fact, this kicks the ass of The Hellacopters and their ilk, 'cause of the metal element here, however silly it might be. Includes their earlier vinyl-only "The Rage Of It All" lp as bonus tracks. Smart people making dumb metal sometimes doesn't work out so well, but we like this despite the irony.
Ohio punk rockers turned metalheads shed more of their punk rock skin and emerge a bright and bloody hard rockin' butterfly! Hard to tell if this is 'irony rock' or not, but it hardly matters. This is high kicking, devil sign, Budweiser tallboys, T-top camaros, 7-11 parking lot, ass kicking, drug gulping, friday night party metallic rock and roll. Think Hellacopters, Drunk Horse, Grand Funk Railroad, Motorhead and this time around: AC/DC, with the simple stomping 4/4 rhythms and the snake-y noodly riffs. Meathead metal 'n' roll that's mindless and fun as hell!!
This French band is seemingly named after an '80s video game, and aptly so, 'cause that's what a lot of this sounds like. Bleepage from dusty, vintage videogame consoles, but put to use in pretty lil' micro-songs with wistful singing. Simultaneously cute and sad. The title is also apt: alien (that's the video game sounds), folk (that's the melodic element) and trash (that's the distortion), sure. Imagine, say, the melancholic folky music of AQ-fave Greg Weeks colliding with some post-DHR distorted DIY electronics. Very pretty and fucked up. One track will feature acoustic guitar strum, the next quirky Aphex Twin-ish breakbeats. Some, both. It's very personal, homemade sounding stuff, which makes sense 'cause while we called this a band up top, actually Boulder dDash is really pretty much just one guy, a French fellow named Jean-Baptiste Hanak, with additional vocals on four of the twenty tracks by someone named The Very Ape (possibly Hanak's girlfriend?) who is even more sad sounding than he is. But as sad as the singing can be, this is a fun album. There's a song about comic book hero Fillerbunny, and another is dedicated to labelmates Electronicat. Oh, and this disc includes an entire bonus album of mp3s called "The Dark Side Of Boulder dDash" that's rather more crazed and stupid, like Hanak got really drunk and tried to make some hip-hop tracks. Weird.
MPEG Download: "On The Road Again" [/audio/boulderontheroad.mp3]
MPEG Stream: "On The Road Again" [/audio/boulderontheroad.m3u]
MPEG Download: "Ur.So (feat. the Very Ape)" [/audio/boulderurso.mp3]
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Hip hop remix. Rhythm = "One Minute Man" (Missy Elliott).
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Hip hop remix. Rhythm = "One Minute Man" (Missy Elliott).
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Hip hop remix. Rhythm = "One Minute Man" (Missy Elliott) b/w "Let Me Blow Ya Mind" (Eve) rhythm and mystery vocals.
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Hip hop remix. Rhythm = "Let Me Blow Ya Mind" (Eve).
Oy vey! What ever happened to releasing albums one at a time? I guess maybe there's more fiduciary sense in splitting up a double disc as two separate albums (it seems to have done indie rockers Appleseed Cast well.) Or maybe it's that Mr. Killer is hoping to continue riding his recent world fame acquired thrugh his association with duder rock band No Doubt. With 20 tracks on each one though, you've got to wonder if maybe a little culling may have been in order. Still, rough and tough gangster dancehall man Bounty Killer makes the attempt. The thing that makes Bounty Killer more successful than most of his dancehall contemporaries might be in attempting this feat (in our humble opinion) is that, with Ghetto Dictionary, he avoids the slow jam ballads *almost* entirely. But then again you've probably come to realise that the style of dancehall vocals most appreciated by us AQ folk are ones that are spoken, not sung and preferably by someone who's voice is not entirely suited to sing vocals even when attempted. Of the myriad dancehall vocalists out there today Bounty Killer is on the short list of people who fit this job description. With an almost asthmatic, wheezing voice, Bounty Killer has a way of forcing all his words through his chest that's like a voice instructor's textbook scenario for how not to sing. And that's the way we like it. One of the things that keeps these two discs from becoming stale throughout their extremely long run time is the varied production in the rhythm department. On both albums there's a decent mix of reggae, dancehall and hip hop rhythm tracks here which breaks up what often makes many dancehall albums monotonous.
With its hip hop album intro beginning, one would think that 'Art of War' was going to be either more of a hip hop influenced album, or at least harder than 'Mystery', but actually this is not the case. Weighing the two albums 'Art of War' is perhaps more firmly ensconced in the dancehall tradition. And although it possibly lacks quite as many 'hits' as its companion, it also has nary a single crappy ballad, of which 'Mystery' has three or four.
Oy vey! What ever happened to releasing albums one at a time? I guess maybe there's more fiduciary sense in splitting up a double disc as two separate albums (it seems to have done indie rockers Appleseed Cast well.) Or maybe it's that Mr. Killer is hoping to continue riding his recent world fame acquired thrugh his association with duder rock band No Doubt. With 20 tracks on each one though, you've got to wonder if maybe a little culling may have been in order. Still, rough and tough gangster dancehall man Bounty Killer makes the attempt. The thing that makes Bounty Killer more successful than most of his dancehall contemporaries might be in attempting this feat (in our humble opinion) is that, with Ghetto Dictionary, he avoids the slow jam ballads *almost* entirely. But then again you've probably come to realise that the style of dancehall vocals most appreciated by us AQ folk are ones that are spoken, not sung and preferably by someone who's voice is not entirely suited to sing vocals even when attempted. Of the myriad dancehall vocalists out there today Bounty Killer is on the short list of people who fit this job description. With an almost asthmatic, wheezing voice, Bounty Killer has a way of forcing all his words through his chest that's like a voice instructor's textbook scenario for how not to sing. And that's the way we like it. One of the things that keeps these two discs from becoming stale throughout their extremely long run time is the varied production in the rhythm department. On both albums there's a decent mix of reggae, dancehall and hip hop rhythm tracks here which breaks up what often makes many dancehall albums monotonous.
On 'Mystery' one particular highlight is a toast over Morgan Heritage's excellent classic "Gunz In the Ghetto" smack dab in the middle of the album and whose production style makes it stick out as though someone has suddenly changed the disc in the player. By the time things slow down on 'Mystery', you've pretty much got your album's worth already. One of the more amusing bad numbers "Evil's of the Mind" is worth going through once at least for kicks. The track features Curly Loxx 2 Loxx who sounds like a cross between fitness guru Richard Simmons and white rapper Eminem. You gotta wonder where Bounty Killer found this guy.
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Hip hop remix. Rhythm = "Wait A Minute" (Ray J).
Released in 1998 by TVT records, Next Millennium is yet another record that is part of that new breed of dancehall which has almost more in common with hip hop than reggae. The production is filled with breakbeats and scratching and if that isn't enough
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Hip hop remix. Rhythm = "Fiesta" (R. Kelly).
