For his second release under the moniker Helios Keith Kenniff (also of Goldmund) has crafted pretty gauzy post-rock instrumentals from feathery melodic wisps of guitar, keyboards and electronics set atop soothing dronescapes. Imagine an album filled with solely the hushed, delicate atmospheric passages of artists such as Mogwai, Sigur Ros, Mum, Album Leaf, and many artists on the Temporary Residence label. Really really lovely. A blissed out soother.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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With the addition of Polvo bassist Ash Bowie, Mary Timony and the rest of Helium turn to agitated bittersweet music that's been compared to everyone from Pink Floyd to T-Rex. An improvement over their other recent releases.
Latest blast of hip hop madness from local crew Helium 3 (responsible in the past for Pancake Circus, Yoko Solo, Thug Emporium etc.) and their shit just keeps getting better. The beats are simple and solid, but the loops and samples are just tweaked enough to keep things interesting. The rappers spit rhymes that fall somewhere between the nasal whine of Cypress Hill's B-Real and the lazy laconic drawl of 50 Cent. Lyrically the flow is fleet and fast and a bit absurd which definitely reminds us of those Anticon / Mush folks. A teaser for their forthcoming full length. Can't wait!
"This is the Age of Nefarious!"
Originally released on kvlt Northwestern black/metal/doom/drone label Woodsmoke as a super limited (100 copies) cassette, this is the first release from Hell, a one man black drone sludge outfit from Salem, Oregon, now remastered, and reissued as an ultra deluxe lp by Pesanta Urfolk, and (un)holy shit, is this a monster! Massive, crushing, crumbling heaviness, heaving low end miserablism, plodding death march pound that gives way to blown out in-the-red blackened guitardrone buzz, and thence to stonery sludge groove. Hell slips from doomic and lumbering, to super intense and mesmerizing, to groovy and rocking, all in the same song. Think Khanate, Blue Sabbath Black Cheer, Corrupted, Moss, Bunkur, but also Eyehategod, and the legion of EHG worshipping groovesludge merchants.
Just take album opener "Brutus", which begins as a hateful sonic trudge, the drums a caveman slo-mo pound, the vocals inhuman and alien, the guitars thick and tarpit black, the sound stumbling and hellish, only to have the vocals and drums drop out leaving a dense blast of buzzing, layered guitars, a weird black harmony of heaviness, droned out and mesmerizing, like a SUNNO))) record spinning at 78rpm, wreathed in siren like feedback, and all manner of echo, until the guitars coalese into a proper groove, Sabbathy almost, and then the song explodes into some serious stoner sludge crush, the main riff MASSIVE, with a cool ascending lick at the end that seems almost at odds with Hell's extreme grimnity, the vocals heavily effected and all twisted up, eventually slipping right back into the plod and lumber of the track's opener, until it grinds to a halt, in a weird cloud of ambient room noise, cartoon music, and glitched out channel surfing. Fucking bizarre and AWESOME.
"Infernus" is much more minimal, a barely propulsive beast, the guitars stretched out into thick streaks of black blur and keening high end skree, the vocals a distant anguished wail, the riffs gnarled and atonal, seeming to come apart before your ears, when the band to lock in, it's an impossibly slow sludge, the sound thick, the chugging weirdly percussive, as if the bass was tuned so low the strings were slapping loose against the bass. "Tyranno" is similarly sludgey, but way more noisy and murky, a blurred swirl of black filth, and spaced out glacial riffage, with some cool lurching stop start dynamics, and another near groove, that dissipates before it really gets rolling.
"Deflagatio" ups the tempo a bit, but just a bit, somewhere between abject crawl, and slo-mo groove, the guitars tuned so low, the vocals a demonic glass gargling shriek, but some surprising melody tucked amidst all the buzz and crumble. "Lethe" begins with a cloud of strangled guitar buzz, which gives way to a heaving bit of monstrous plod, the vocals way up in the mix and heavily echoed, giving them a weird dubbed out feel, the sound gradually shifting from lumber to lope to full on blown out drift, hovering in a field of black psych noise, before slipping right back into it, only to almost immediately be sucked into a cloud of swirling effects, while the guitars continue to buzz and drone.
Finally, the record finishes off with the 15+ minute "Maeror", a gorgeous mostly ambient sprawl, a symphony of whirling minor key shimmer, and strange clouds of tape hiss, the notes drawn way out, haunting and ominous, the speed warbling and constantly shifting, giving the whole thing a warped warbly vibe, breifly, some guitars explode from out of the murk, unleashing gouts of super distorted buzz, and shards of jagged feedback wreathed crunch, not to mention strange keening melancholy melodies, and some tripped out FX, before drifting off, and leaving a long warped expanse of minimal creeping haze to finally lay the record to rest. So killer, and obviously essential for fans of all things slow and low, black and buzzy, glacial and grim.
LIMITED TO 322 COPIES. Each one hand numbered. Pressed on nice thick black/blood red vinyl, and housed in heavy, super striking blood red/black woodcut sleeves, includes a massive poster (and we mean HUGE) of the woodcut cover art, and a printed cardstock insert. Also includes a download coupon.
Record number two from this black/doom/sludge outfit from Salem, Oregon, the second in a proposed trilogy, this one taking the already grim and abject sound of the first installment even further, dragging them even deeper into the infernal pits, the sound hellish and hateful and harrowing, the opening track beginning life as a bleak slab of churning slow motion dirgery, a filthy, crusty tarpit creep, the sound raw and blown out, the guitars tuned WAY down, the vocals a demonic hellish croak, the crushing black doom eventually swallowed up by a cloud of psychedelic guitar swirl, a sort of black metal buzz, but blurred into stasis, before the whole thing collapses into a black hole of crumbling low end and Merzbowic black noise, before briefly returning to the initial doomic plod, before spacing out completely into a hazy stretch of almost Earth like twang, although here it's wreathed in heaving black clouds of buzz, the sound constantly shifting over the course of the rest of the song, from shimmery drift, to wild tangled guitar freakout, to stumbling churn, to blurred drone. And that's just the first track. Although it does lay the groundwork for the rest of the record, the guitars seeming to grow even more blown out, the vocals more and more anguished, the downtuned riffs, even more downtuned, as if the whole thing was melting right there on your turntable. "Metnal" mixes in some actual black metal blasts, as well as some swirling ethereal ambience, "Trucid" too, unfurls some black buzz, strangely twisted and tangled, and in-the-red, so it almost sounds like the tape is malfunctioning, all woozy and warped, before slipping into the prettiest stretch on the album, a lilting clean guitar drift, that leads directly into "Umbilicus", which at nearly 8 minutes is the shortest of the bunch, but which also manages to be the heaviest, the sound so dense and blown out, it pushes the black buzz into the realms of Tim Hecker, the crumbling buzz becoming a wall of roiling texture, the track lurching into a weird convoluted noise rock groove, stonery and sludgey, eventually shedding the sludge, leaving just some muted drumming, and a brittle layer of guitar buzz, that drifts into the weirdly melodic doom-sludge coda. Epic and crushing, brutal and beautiful, we can hardly wait for part three...
LIMITED TO 646 COPIES, pressed on black/oxblood vinyl (hold it up to the light, so cool!), three sided, the fourth featuring a super detailed etching, housed in a thick black and red jacket adorned with super striking woodcuts, inside a 12" x 24" woodcut poster/insert, as well as a digital download coupon.
Just got these today, and word is we might not be able to get more. So figured we'd write a super short review and get it up on this week's list, so those of you already hip to Hell, could get your grubby mitts on a copy before they're gone. If we do manage to get more, we'll post a proper (longer) review, but for now, here's record number three from this black/doom/sludge outfit from Salem, Oregon, and like the first two, it's another fantastically, grim, hellish, hateful collection of harrowing blackened creep, blurred doom-ed buzz, and churning blacknoize crush. And as with all Pesanta Urfolk releases, deluxe packaging, including a gorgeous black and red woodcut jacket, printed on SUPER thick stock, the vinyl HEAVY and BLACK, and comes with a huge foldout poster!
Holy shit. Or maybe we should say, Unholy shit! This record scare us to death. Not just sonically, but visually as well. Hell Militia is some sort of black metal super group, can't remember the constituent parts, but the sum of those parts has somehow conjured up the fabulously foul Canonisation Of The Foul Spirit, a sick, hateful, evil and abominable blackened alchemy, equal parts grim buzz, convulsive thrash, furious blast and some of the sickest, brimstone gargling, angel crushing, fire breathing vocals EVER. A relentless musical pummeling, like laying in a shallow pool of black pitch atop a rocky crag in the middle of an endless expanse of dark water, cowering and shivering and praying for death as fallen angels beat you to within an inch of your life with spiked clubs, the whole while horned heads held aloft, burnt wings hanging useless behind them, wailing and squealing like some demonic choir, as all around you squalls of buzzing guitars and fuzzed out bass and shards of blasting beats rain down, burning jagged chunks of flesh searing black metal. So amazing and frighteningly furiously heavy, and then those inhuman vocals just push it totally and completely into the nightmarish black. The artwork is stunningly creepy as well, perfectly capturing the hateful, Christ crushing fury within, gorgeous black and white photos of clergymen, nuns, bishops, all blended with skulls, and corpses, wolves and goats, and all manner of unidentifiable beats and creatures. Like an even more damaged Joel Peter Witkin. So totally freaky but quite striking and creepily alluring at the same time. All printed on gorgeous thick paper stock, the whole thing housed in a similarly garish and striking slipcover.
Jacob's Ladder, the third full length from French black metal horde Hell Militia, continues pretty much right from where 2010's Last Station On The Road To Death left off, another dizzying concoction of creeped out ambience, dense gnarled black buzz, and lumbering doominess, a sound not that far removed from their countrymen Deathspell Omega, but Hell Militia seem more rooted in classic metal, their sound equal parts classic Scandinavian blackness, modern French BM, and some bastardized strain of blackened death metal. The tracks this time around are even more dynamic, lots of stop starts, plenty of long ambient stretches, laced with creepy samples, the songs slipping easily from blurry buzz, to doomic death march creep, even mixing in some Khold style midtempo groove. And like with past HM records, there's lots going on beyond the usual BM tropes. Cool bits of droned out almost psychedelia, thick swirls of industrial churn, murky folk flecked drift, even a haunting bit of crackly twenties style radio broadcast found sound tucked away at the end of the epic 9+ minute midtempo closer. Killer stuff as always. Most definitely for fans of DSO, Funeral Mist, Katharsis, Marduk, Antaeus...
The long awaited second album (it's been FIVE years since their debut) from this French black metal super group, featuring members of Mutiilation, Vorkreist, Antaeus, Merrimack, Malicious Secrets, Vagezaryavtre Secrets Of The Moon, we could go on, but odds are most metalheads were already dying for this, and if not, just that list of bands should have most folks reaching for the buy button. Much like the first record, Last Station On The Road To Death, is dark and grimy, grim and filthy, harrowing and heavy, a seriously scary collection of hellish black art, beginning with a short stretch of swirling black ambience, accompanied by a sample about drug addiction and the fate of addicts (which is most likely a not so subtle fuck you to the Black Legions, since Hell Militia mainman Meyhnach was purportedly kicked out for becoming a drug addict), the record lumbers into a stumbling bit of doomy filth, before exploding into frenzied blasting blackness, and over the next 45 minutes HM's sound delves into all sorts of varied directions, many of them not all the black metal, which is what makes this record so cool and weird. It spends most of its time trudging along gloomily, dark and depressive, the melodies minor key and dismal, the mood abject and melancholy, more often a sort of plodding doom than black metal, but loads of sonic surprises lurk all over the place, plenty of which will no doubt not please the true grim hordes, the strange stuttering glitched out guitars on "Unshakable Faith", the slow motion Deathspell-isms of "The Ultimate Deception", the almost industrial lumber of "Fili Diaboli", the weirdly poppy sing along punk rock feel of "Shoot Knife Strangle Beat & Crucify", the mathy, stop start riffage of "The Pig That Became A God", and the bizarre barroom cabaret of the title track, the gruff vocals delivered more like Nick Cave or the Young Gods or even the Pogues, laced over long droned out chords, but peppered with cool jagged gnarled mathy blackness, it's definitely a super weird record, but it all works, and the weird bits are definitely balanced by a true grim blackness that seems to infuse everything here. The various elements woven into a blood soaked black stained sonic tapestry, filthy and crusty, heavy and twisted, grim and black.
Comes in a cool hardcover book like digipack, and like the first record, gorgeously laid out with tons of super creepy imagery.
Great group name, and an album title that really says it all! This mysterious 1968 exploito-psych album of disputed provenance, newly reissued on cd, lives up to its Supreme Psychedelic Underground billing, all right. It's really doesn't even matter if it's the pseudonymic work of a young Deep Purple, as some Purple fans are convinced. Others will tell you that while maybe the guitar neck wringing sounds a lot like Blackmore, and the bombastic organ pounding sounds a lot like Lord, it's not them - instead, it's dudes from krautrock proto-metallers Lucifers Friend! Which as far as we're concerned is an equally appealing theory. We don't know what to believe, are they or aren't they? You decide, we'll just groove to these crazy sounds, man. With wild organ and wah wah guitar up the wazoo, the tracks here range from instrumental freakouts ("Time Race") to novelty tribal weirdness ("We Like The White Man") to baroque prog hoedowns ("Courante") to, well, there's all sorts of swingin' acid rock action here folks! A few faves to mention would be the Eastern-tinged "Shalom", which is infused with all kinds of weird noises and sound FX as well, the super groovy shake-and-shimmy "Let Me Shoot You", and definitely the awesomely Bo Diddley-ish "Turn Turn", probably what would be this record's hit, if it had one.
It's interesting that these days, actually, we've kinda gotten to the point where it almost makes more sense to say that a '60s psych artifact like this one was "ahead of its time" and compare it to today's crop of psychedelic freeks, instead of the other way around. Certainly there's moments here, when the pulsating, wailing sounds get really far out, that we could think for a second we were listening to, say, a Sun Araw album. At other times, of course, it's VERY "of its times", and that's rad (in a kitschy way) too. The jarringly tripped out "Spy In Space" could only have been made in the '60s we're pretty sure, woah.
Certainly fans of MK1 Deep Purple ought to check this out, even though the theory that it's a German studio project, featuring ex-members of beat groups The Rattles and The German Bonds (who would eventually form Lucifer's Friend) seems fairly likely to be the correct one, since those very same folks cut another similar exploito-psych album under the "band" name Bokaj Retsiem around the very same time. That album was simply titled Psychedelic Underground, so maybe they thought they did an even better job as Hell Preachers, Inc.!
A double disc set for the price of one from the inimitable Richard Hell, founding member of New York-style punk in the '70s with the bands Television, the Heartbreakers, and the Voidoids. The first disc is a reissue of the formerly cassette-only ROIR release
Disc two is a document of a few live shows, including one that took place in England on an ill-fated tour with the Clash. Hell calls this performance one of the most aggressive he'd ever given, but the recording quality is terrible throughout the live disc, and I don't really get why he chose to release it. Liner notes are extensive, with song by song recounts written by Hell himself, and lots of photos.
You wouldn't think that a band revisiting their past would make us fall in love with them all over again but that is precisely the case with this new ep from Hella. Acoustics finds Hella reworking some of their early songs but this time done all acoustic! Hella + acoustic? "Huh? What? How?", you might be asking yourself, but the answer is a huge big colorful YES!!!
We have to admit we were getting a little cold on the whole Hella thing, but with Acoustics they have totally regained our attention and recaptured our hearts, with their intricate spazzy convoluted prog laid totally bare (err... well acoustic at least). Hard to imagine Hella acoustic, but it's pretty darn cool, maybe like Gastr Del Sol on a steady diet of crystal meth and cocaine, or a more manic Cheval De Frise. While it's easy to sound crazed and weird and spastic with amps turned to eleven and feedback busting out of every speaker, it's a whole lot harder to maintain that same sort of intensity with no electricity at all. That's what separates Hella from so much of the spazzy pack. Sure anyone can freak out hidden behind huge amps and silly costumes, but only the truly talented and demented can knock your block off with an all acoustic record. We think someone should slip a copy of this to Tom Waits as Hella in this incarnation would make the perfect backing band for his next record. OK, Lightning Bolt, Wolf Eyes, Black Dice -- the gauntlet has been thrown down... can you get it up up when the power is out? Hella sure as hell can! So totally recommended!
A new 12" on nice marble vinyl. The band known for a million riffs a minute and insane drumming brings some electronic beats to the party before tearing into some incredibly dense noise prog. Like Lightning Bolt and Orthrelm, Hella turn two people into a finely honed instrument of sonic destruction.
While the drumming never lets up its multilayered, frantic pace, the guitar (augmented here and there by keyboard) takes Hella's sound from This Heat precision to all out noise and into more accessible song territory on the last track, which features vocals, a first for the band.
Whooahh man. Hella's latest (and third) release is an overwhelming, two hour long, double solo album exploration. Drummer Zach Hill's Church Gone Wild battles guitarist Spencer Sein's Chirpin Hard. Church seems to be a dismembered hour-long noise mantra in 12 parts. It's pretty driving and kinetic, a swirling maelstrom of free-noise muddied by pitch-shifted vocals and tape manipulation.
As for Sein's contribution, imagine the pixelscapes of Nintendo NES' Tennis, Joust, Tetris, Zelda, Double Dragon, Mega Man, Golf and Cobra Command all meshed into one massive super-game being played at a warehouse free-noise show and we could have it's documentation here with Chirpin Hard. Hella fans will lovingly dive into this behemouth double album without hesitation.
Do you rememer that scene in the movie, "Hook" where Rufio and all the Lost Boys have a massive feast *powered by imagination* and all the food looks like radioactive play-doh and then they start having a food fight and everyone gets smattered with colorful edible goo? No? Ok well....then just imagine a radioactive play-doh food fight. Now convert that into sound. There you go. That's this album. Except....every 6th or 7th wad of play-doh food is actually a bag full of flaming fists. Sloppy, raucous, and punch you in the face fun. Woah. Disc two is a double feature DVD from Hella's Japanese Tour.
A couple of brief outbursts of precision mayhem from Hella, featuring their trademark maniacally dense drumming and head splitting guitar riffery.
Well now, this record is certainly a breath of fresh air. I mean when was the last time you heard a decent mathrock record? Hella is two Sacramento guys on guitar and drums and they've made this loud 'n awesome record, which is super listenable and accessible,
The precision, nutso drumming of Zach Hill and the frantic, fearless guitar playing of Spencer Seim is something the world needs more of, and they are happy to oblige with this, only their second full-length recording after a few eps and live discs. Yay, Hella!
This dynamic duo hold the lease on hectic, headspinning math rock mayhem, tempering their breathless performances with a very eclectic, electric variety of sounds and good sense of what's catchy and what isn't. The Devil Isn't Red is perhaps denser than their debut Hold Your Horse Is, but no less delightful. As almost always, this is all-instrumental, with cryptic art and song titles to add to their aesthetic of controlled chaos. Into indie-prog a la Don Caballero, Lighting Bolt, Ruins, This Heat? Well if you haven't already, now's the time to make room for a Hella section in your record collection. (By the way, did you notice how 'Hella' no longer seems like a dumb band name, it just means Hella the band? You know, just like with the Melvins, for instance. They're good enough and have been around long enough now to make that transition.)
That rad Sacto duo Hella is back, guitar and drums just goin' for it in a punk-prog stylee. You can still use Lightning Bolt and the Ruins as comparisons, but with the added instrumentation -- noisy, new wavey synths -- they're getting further away from the Bolt template. All instrumental save for some funny voices bookending the tracks, this album is just as kinetic and hyperchaotic as their previous output, veering into a bit o' Carl Stalling style cartoon music as befits the title. 7 songs in just under 20 minutes, plus for those with computers, a live video clip for "Brown Metal" from their first album. Definitely a treat for those into drums, math, and spinning around until you're dizzy. FUN!
Here's a good buy for fans of either or both bands: a double cd, featuring a disc each of Hella and Dilute performing live. SF's Dilute do "Apple", "Alphabet", "Sickroom", "Balloon Song" and "Sold" while Sacramento's Hella play "Republic of Rough and Ready", "Better Grab a Broom!", "Cafeteria Bananas", "Biblical Violence", and "City Folk Sitting, Sitting". If this was a competition, we'd have to say Hella has the better song titles. But it's not a competition and both bands are winners, with Dilute being one of the Bay Area's best, most creative post/indie rock combos and Hella being NoCal's answer to Lightning Bolt, a two-piece instrumental tour de force. Go see both bands if/when you get the chance, and in the meantime don't miss out on this double live document (which maybe could have fit all on one disc, but whatever).
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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A compilation of Hellacopters tracks you might've missed 'cause they're all from singles, 10"s, split releases, etc on labels from Sweden, Spain and the U.S. As is often the case, some of the best songs appear in limited release on 7"s, and so it is with the Hellacopters. If you're a fan of the garage punk revival (particularly the Swedish one - hello, Hives!) you'll surely want to check this comp out.
Nicke Royale (aka Nicke Andersson ex-drummer of Entombed) writes some damn catchy retro rock anthems full of ballsy guitars, hammering piano, gang vocals. And they do some respectable rockin' covers of songs by the Stones, Iggy Pop, Nino Tempo and Social Distortion. One thing though, the cd's packaging is a bit confusing. I opened up the six panel foldout and found that one whole side is taken up by a "Cream of The Crap" poster. The weird thing is it looks as if the poster was supposed to be nine panels instead of six and they just sliced off the top three. Confused? Me too. On San Francisco's garage, punk and hotrods label Gearhead Records. Also features the track 'Killing Allan'. Hmmmmmm.
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This band rules so hard. Big guitars, big hooks, leads all over the place, even that sort of pounding piano that hasn't been cool since forever. Or more specifically, since your Dad was high as a kite holding up his lighter to Bob Seger's "Turn The Page". Or your Uncle was feeling up some girl in the parking lot of a Lynyrd Skynyrd show. This is totally classic, fucking awesome rock and roll. The kind you should still be able to see in stadiums instead of nu-metal and MTV crap. Huge in Sweden, it's a crime they're not packing Madison Square Garden here. But that's good too, 'cause it means that's it's still okay for all the hipsters to still dig 'em. But ignore all that stuff and just buy this record. Think every stadium rock show you've ever seen, Kiss, Lynrd Skynrd, Alice Cooper, Bob Seger, Van Halen, Peter Frampton, and then supercharge it, filter it through a bunch of former death metallers, and you've got the Hellacopters. In a perfect world bands like the Darkness and the White Stripes would be begging for a chance to open for these guys! Or not. Includes two videos, a video interview and a patch!
The domestic release! Sweden's been churning out some fiery garage punk in the last few years. Example #1: The Hives! Example #2: these guys! Actually calling these guys garage punk - a genre in which they've been frequently categorized - is a bit misleading.
Limited edition little cardboard "box set" ep from these hard-rockin' Swedes... Includes five tracks, 4 of which are previously unreleased, plus 2 videos for your computer and a patch for your jean jacket.
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THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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Hellchild are the undisputed kings of Japanese metalcore. And for good reason; huge complex compositions that are brutally heavy and ultra fast, downtuned and furious. We have both their full lengths as well as the limited 10" that features two absolutely unbelievable medleys (track one: Whiplash/ Metallica/Exodus/Destruction/Slayer/Kreator and track two: Motley Crue/ Motorhead/U2 (!)/Sex Pistols) twisted and contorted almost beyond recognition. Almost.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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Hellchild are the undisputed kings of Japanese metalcore. And for good reason; huge complex compositions that are brutally heavy and ultra fast, downtuned and furious. We have both their full lengths as well as the limited 10" that features two absolutely unbelievable medleys (track one: Whiplash/ Metallica/Exodus/Destruction/Slayer/Kreator and track two: Motley Crue/ Motorhead/U2 (!)/Sex Pistols) twisted and contorted almost beyond recognition. Almost.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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Hellchild are the undisputed kings of Japanese metalcore. And for good reason; huge complex compositions that are brutally heavy and ultra fast, downtuned and furious. We have both their full lengths as well as the limited 10" that features two absolutely unbelievable medleys (track one: Whiplash/ Metallica/Exodus/Destruction/Slayer/Kreator and track two: Motley Crue/ Motorhead/U2 (!)/Sex Pistols) twisted and contorted almost beyond recognition. Almost.
"Rave Is Back! (It's Official)" has been the DJ Scud / Ambush slogan for the past year and UK's Hellfish And Producer have followed suit with their much anticipated follow-up to 2000's "Constant Mutation". Not a whole lot has changed in the last couple of years, but these boys can still crank out the adrenaline charged fuckstep mashup gabba jams they've become known for. Plus, they plunder in some old school B-Boy jams like "Rock The Bells" and rude boy deejay toasting for fun and good measure. Just as great, if not better, as anything out on DHR or Praxis or Ambush. And unlike much in this genre, there's a healthy amount of humor and good fun prevalent, rather than the usual apocalyptic propaganda that plagues it. Full on headpummeling beatdown that never fails to piss off at least one customer every time it's played in the store...
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With this punishing record, Hellfish & Producer has filled the surprisingly empty noise-beat market left wide open by Alec Empire and the rest of his Digital Hardcore empire, which has been remarkably quiet for the year 2000. "Constant Mutation" is a continuously mixed disc of singles previously released by Hellfish & Producer. Unrelenting 909 gabba / drill & bass beats tear throughout the record well beyond the pace that a sober / non-tweaked individual can keep up with. Silly samples that anthemically call for the death of rock 'n' roll and headrattling blasts of white noise march through the pounding beats. Yup, Hellfish & Producer certainly give Mr. Empire a run for his money.
We could easily fill several paragraphs talking about the historical significance of Hellhammer (speaking of metal history, not world history, of course, though for some of us the two are of equal importance). But if you're reading this, and possibly already considering buying a deluxe double cd (or triple vinyl!) set of the band's early demo recordings, you probably already know something about the seminal significance of Swiss primal metal trio Hellhammer, the precursors to Celtic Frost. If you do want to know more, we'd point you to the liner notes to this release, written by HH/CF mainman Thomas Gabriel Fischer (aka Tom G. Warrior, aka Satanic Slaughter), which were adapted from his forthcoming book Only Death Is Real, all about the early '80s origins of those two bands.
As you probably know, Hellhammer started off as an amateur but enthusiastic exercise in teenage worship of NWOBHM black metal originators Venom, but took Venom's defining sound to further extremes, becoming a pioneering band not only in the black metal genre, but also for death metal and sludgy doom metal as well. And all this without much of a recorded legacy, just the 1984 Apocalyptic Raids ep and some compilation tracks and these demos, the band's initial recording sessions at long last presented officially on cd and vinyl, remastered from the original master tapes.
These three demo cassettes -- Satanic Rites, Death Fiend, and Triumph Of Death -- were released in mere handmade handfuls back in 1983. Including raw(er) versions of such later classics as "The Third Of The Storms", "Triumph Of Death", and "Revelations Of Doom", as well as many otherwise unheard Hellhammer hammerings, such morbid morsels as "Dark Warriors", "Crucifixion", "Decapitator", "Ready For Slaughter", and, er, "Bloody Pussies", it's 29 tracks, 102 minutes of truly ancient evil that any self respecting black/death/doom metaller should revel in. With a twanging low-end of rubbery bass, lurching riffs, pogoing rhythms, echoed vocals, these decidedly lo-fi recordings sound almost like a no-wave take on metal. Accidentally avant-garde (unlike Celtic Frost's later efforts to intentionally be so), Hellhammer were so wretched and fucked up that they've defined "necro" for all time. Hear here how they began.
The limited edition double cd version is packaged in a handsome, slipcased hardback digibook, 5.5" x 7.5", with a 36 page booklet bound inside, plus a small poster. Within the booklet, you'll find hella vintage black and white necro photography, xeroxed flier artwork, the original cassette covers, lyrics and liner notes from the band. Along with occult artwork, including a previously unpublished demonic pencil sketch by bassist Martin Eric Ain that, since it's rendered on graph paper, has us speculating that these guys probably were playing D&D in their bunker as well as recording the metal of death.
Meanwhile, the vinyl edition (also quite LIMITED, the eight we have are probably all we'll ever have) is a truly weighty proposition, 180 gram vinyl in a thick gatefold package with the aforementioned booklet, etc. as well.
Once the deluxe cd edition is gone, we'll have the regular, less-deluxe (but also less expensive) version.
Japanese crazy metal. Very '80s.
Awesome German retro-thrash.
Awesome German retro-thrash.
Awwww, February, blossoming romance is in the air! Fans of fey femme folk, here's a Valentine sweetie for you! Dan Bejar (Destroyer, New Pornographers, Swan Lake) and his ladylove Sydney Vermont took some time out from North America and travelled to Spain for a spell. The musical inspirations that their journey spawned are found on this here album. It's an earthy, ephemeral melange (yes, we said "melange"!) of Kate Bush drama, waif-pop Lavender Diamond, '70s soft rock AOR singers such as Melissa Manchester or Carly Simon. With a description like that you could be warily anticipating a somewhat milquetoast listen, but fear not! It's all distinguished and elevated by Bejar's unmistakable musical eccentricities. His prickly guitar and distinct voice are perfect foil for Vermont's lilting soprano tones -- particularly on fine songs like "Mediterranean Snow" and (Cup's current favorite) "Sunny Skies". Oh and yes there's even flute (ya hear me Andee?). Go on, don a flowing chiffon gown and sway to this floral loveliness. Includes a cover of Kevin Ayers' "Hymn".
Hellvete is the work of one of the members of Belgian funeral folk collective Sylvester Anfang, and while in many ways, the two outfits are similar, Hellvete takes the loose abstraction, and stumbling freeform mystery of SA, and tightens it up, into epic slow burning pieces that sound and feel more composed, majestic one moment, haunting and hushed the next, strings and subtle percussion, buzzing steel string guitar and thick undulating drones, a sprawling epic soundtrack to an imaginary film, flickering images of some forgotten world, a time lapse exploration of the birth and death of the black forest.
Long drawn out, almost sitar like buzz, drifts beneath ethereal female vocals, super minimal Eastern sounding percussion underpins some skeletal folky twang, a slow building bit of dronemusic, like Godspeed gone black Appalachia. Strings swoop in, upping the cinematic vibe, minor key, tense, dramatic, echoey vocals wrap around buzzing steel strings, transforming into thick raga like drones, laced with druggy space rock pulses, a sort of Spacemen 3 vibe, buried beneath the smoldering black shimmer. Tinkling chimes dapple the soaring strings, all wound into bursts of Sunroof! like skree.
Abstract free drumming hurls out swirling clouds of cymbal shimmer, fields of speckled skitter, way off in the distance, wordless voices moan and chant and hum, eventually swallowed up by thick grinding sheets of coruscating guitar buzz, a furious explosive crescendo, slipping back into that black Appalachia, before finishing off with a muted, but still intense burst of full on swirling psychedelic drug rock. Awesome stuff. In many ways even better than the Sylvester Anfang jams that came before, as if SA had somehow evolved, the sounds and compositions grown more lush, more expansive, while at the same time, gotten even darker, heavier, and more epic. WAY recommended.
