Physicalities Of The Sensibilities Of Ingrediential Strairways [sic] is the brand spankin' new release from modern psych high priests the Skaters. Long�awaited and VERY limited, this lysergic dose of hazy psychosis left us dazed and wanting more. Recorded by the band in Universal City, Mexico, this summons an unearthly brand of rhythmic psychedelia, the perfect soundtrack for your next out-of-body experience. Quite possibly the Skaters' most dim and eerie release, this one time, vinyl-only pressing is already sold out on the label's end, so pick it up while you still can!!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
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Another SUPER LIMITED cd-r from the Jyrk Collective (run by the guys in the Yellow Swans) who also just recently released the amazing (and also quite limited) Grey Daturas / Yellow Swans collaboration found elsewhere on this list. Unlike the GD / YS collaboration, this is a good old fashioned split, with each band offering up twenty minutes or so of their particular brand of skree. The Yellow Swans deliver a practically swoonsome drone, haunting and mysterious, with simple plodding percussion, occasional elctronic filigree and moody Eastern sounding guitar melodies. So nice. The Skaters take the noisier road, with a clangy clattery blown out soundscpae of distorted drones, buzzy fuzzy electronic whir and heavily affected disembodied vocalisations. Thickly layered and weirdly otherworldly.
And again, just to drive that point home, THIS IS VERY LIMITED. By the time you read this review, this cd-r will already be out of print. So if you want one act fast!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Agents Of Power (subtitled: "including Elric: The Dragon Prince (A Tale Of Tragic Destiny In 12 Parts") is the third album from these ultra-epic, triumphant true metal warriors, who often write lines like "I have slain man and elf before" - but don't take themselves TOO seriously however, since their band is named, after all, for the villain from the He-Man cartoons (or are they?). Skelator are an American act, from up in Seattle, but have a definite European power metal feel a la Hammerfall (and remind us also of aQ faves Sacred Steel). However, their biggest influence is probably Judas Priest, with Skelator's vocalist, excuse us, "Larynx of Doom", Jason Conde-Houston, definitely possessing some screaming-to-the-stratosphere, Rob Halford style pipes! Furthermore, what's cool is that the Priest influence extends not just to their "castle metal" epics - they've also made Priest's motorcycle ridin' rocka-rolla part of their sound too. So while the whole entire second half of this album (and then some) is an elaborate, theatrical multi-part song suite dedicated to Michael Moorcock's swords & sorcery anti-hero Elric (which by itself would be rad and impressive), the first batch of tracks here are lustful, stand-alone denim & leather rockers, with the reckless "Rhythm Of The Chain" (first lines: "I'm walkin' down the street / rocking to the power of the thunder beat") being a ridiculous standout and live fave. We know that 'cause we saw 'em a month or two ago here in San Francisco at, of all places, hipster haven The Hemlock Tavern. They were on a bill with SF's Slough Feg - turns out those bands are buds, and it was particularly cool when Skelator's singer got on stage during Slough Feg's set to duet on a cover of "Green Manalishi"! Of course. After that, we were like, gotta review some Skelator! It's the first album of theirs that we've listed, though the true metalheads here at aQ have been throwing the horns to 'em for a while now. This new album could be their best yet.
For fans of, well, METAL, but, specifically, Judas Priest, not to mention fellow Pacific Northwesterners 3 Inches Of Blood, too.
Seattle's truest underground power metal warriors have returned with another headbanging batch of toons about swords, witches, demons and METAL. Indeed, this disc is, as they accurately put it, a collection of "catchy metal anthems to pump your fist bang your head and scream into the night." As fans of the band's prior opuses (opi?), we expect no less! Not very groundbreaking, but very metal and very fun - especially (or only) if you like paint peeling, air raid siren vocal histrionics in the tradition of Halford and Dickinson (and Gerrit Mutz of Sacred Steel!). Skelator possess an abundance of both vocal and instrumental firepower, along with a certain panache to how they deliver the goods. A band like this you judge by how effectively their ripping riffery, soaring vocals, and true metal 'tude make you raise your hands in the instinctive 'invisible oranges' gesture, and these guys are off the hook in that department. Invisible oranges lofted, stat. Epic, majestic, and also rockin', our only disappointment here being that they didn't include their cover of Hawkwind's "Master Of The Universe" on this cd (Skelator gone space rock, with saxophone!), but you can find a free download of that on their Bandcamp page. And if you think it's weird a band like Skelator would cover Hawkwind, well, we know they are big Elric/Moorcock fans, so that's a Hawkwind connection, plus, that song could be construed as a He-Man reference, just like Skelator. Clever.
Remember this deathly, doomic band and their debut Tomb Coven from 2009, which we recommended to fans of Acid Witch? Well, the fleshless ones are back, and now even witchier. That's 'cause somewhere along the way, they revamped their lineup. Original guitarist Sacrifice The Virgin is gone, leaving bassist Behold The Pentagram and drummer Haunting The Beyond to recruit into the band, in the incestuous fashion of many Razorback acts, none other than Vanessa Nocera, whom you know as frontwoman for Wooden Stake. With S.T.V. out, now B.T.P. plays both guitar and bass, while H.T.B. is still on drums, and Nocera (why didn't they make her adopt a Something The Something stage name, we wonder?) handles all the vocals, previously B.T.P.'s department. When she does the low guttural grunting death metal Cookie Monster / Boris The Spider thing (which she does, and does convincingly), you might not notice the difference. But, sometimes she also "sings" more properly, cleanly yet creepily, which witch-ily adds to the occult atmosphere they intend to evoke, Nocera sounding like some evil high priestess, surrounded by chanting monks. You do definitely get more of her deliberately wretched vokills here, than her cleaner, "Jex Thoth" style, though.
Vanessa's vocal versatility is melded to what the band already did quite well, catchy old school death metal with some sludgier spooky slow parts. The same Swedish DM buzzsaw guitar grind as before is in full effect, with a rakish hint of rock n' roll in their chunky riffage and squeaky leads. Lyrically, of course, it's all campy splatter cinema and EC Comics shenanigans. Ferinstance, "Sekhmet Prowls The Azure Night" is written from the POV of an undead Egyptian mummy (hence the vaguely Middle Eastern sounding guitar break at 2:21), "Raw Head & Bloody Bones" is about the supernatural revenge of a razorback hog (!), killed by hunters, while "Master Of The Muck" is not about a monster, but actually about cult comic book illustrator Bernie Wrightson, a tribute to him.
So this new Skeletal Spectre is for anyone with an appreciation of that "fun" horror aesthetic, and who digs death metal; specifically for fans of the doomier stuff, specifically Wooden Stake (of course), Acid Witch, Hooded Menace, Decrepitaph, plus early Dismember and Entombed, etc.
Last year we raved (cackled?) about an album by the band Acid Witch, spooky-ooky doom released on the reliably gory death metal label Razorback. Since then, Razorback has put out several other fine releases of old school death metal, including one, Claws, featuring a former member of Acid Witch. Of course, we can't review everything, not even everything that we like. So haven't gotten to all those yet. But THIS new Razorback release we had to bring to your attention, 'cause it's a bit more in the freaky, psychedelically doomy style of Acid Witch. Furthermore, the band's from Sweden, and are quite capable practitioners of their country's traditional music: death metal! (The sort of stuff documented on that recent triple cd compilation "Swedish Death Metal" reviewed here not long ago.)
Skeletal Spectre mix classic Swedish DM buzzsaw guitar tones with rocked out riffage and weird, whining, grinding atmosphere, even some droning organ. Haunting melodies are intertwined with the background buzzings as, churning and chugging, they trudge at near-doom speeds on such creepy-crawl numbers as "Burial Ground" and "Eerie Bones", never taking it too slow though, and certainly speeding up to bash out the likes of "Wrath Of Corrupta" and "Amulet Of Impurity".
The vokills by bassist Behold The Pentagram (!) are wonderfully wretched, owing something not only to the Cookie Monster but also to the death grunts of Tom G. Warrior. Guitarist Sacrifice The Virgin (!!) and drummer Haunting The Beyond (!!!) are obviously familiar with the works of Hellhammer/Celtic Frost as well! Also, Entombed, Dismember, Autopsy, Coffins, Cathedral, Acid Witch... all could also be good RIYL's in regards to the retro DM/doom, ghoulish good times on offer here.
Okay, basically, if the band name "Skeletonwitch" sounds cool to you (like, maybe you'd be willing to wear a T-shirt that says Skeletonwitch, or draw the Skeletonwitch logo on your school materials), and you like both modern black/death metal extremity and the more melodic, galloping sound of '80s speed/thrash metal a la Destruction, then chances are you'll dig this debut from Ohio's...Skeletonwitch! That is, they do indeed live up to everything that name implies (for the record, we think it's cool -- trying saying it out loud, in a sibilant stage-whisper), and play a hybridized blend of death metal/thrash, with raspy vox screeching and grunting over top of blazing '80s influenced speed metal heaviness, guitar solos and all. Dark, deceased, dissected and demonic. Dude! Skeletonwitch! Ready for your tattoo?
We've raved before about this cool metal band from Ohio, after they blitzed us with the sweet strains of their previous album At One With The Shadows (2004) and more recent self-released ep, Worship The Witch (2006). The strength of those releases, as well as the excessive, impressive showmanship with which they deliver their '80s influenced blackened speed metal of death in the live arena, has heightened their profile in the realm of underground US metal -- hence their deal for this new album. They've been touring hard, and getting great word of mouth, which we're happy to amplify. Perhaps the hype will even allow them to cross over to the indie audience that likes bands like The Fucking Champs and Early Man, we imagine that could easily happen -- though this ain't no ironic hipster metal, we know these guys are bona fide metalheads from the Midwest.
They just came through town recently on tour, opening for Nachtmystium, who had to cancel their SF appearance at the last minute -- but we don't think anyone in the crowd that night went home disappointed after Skeletonwitch, thrust into the headlining spot, got up there and wrecked everybody's neck, slaying in style with energy and aplomb. Killer show, killer band -- and this is a killer album.
Not only can they play, AND have good songs, but they have all the details down too, little details that are TIGHT. Like, for instance, when they play live, the two guitarists are on either side of the stage, both shredding on matching Flying V's. Good enough, but what makes it really tight is that one of the guitarists is left handed, and stands stage left, so both guitarists' Flying V's are pointed in opposite directions, flanking the scary singer and roving bassist, which just looks cool. You might think, on album, so what if the guitarists have such visual symmetry? Well damn if we don't think that we can HEAR it. Or at least hear that they're the sort of band that might cultivate that sort of old school, larger than life presentation.
This album certainly showcases their strengths: The aforementioned dual guitar shred (shades of Maiden and At The Gates). Blazing technicality in the service of solid, memorable, melodic thrash metal songs. And dynamic, demonic vocals (grunts, snarls, screeches) from a frontman who is also awesomely expressive nonverbally on stage (constantly pulling exaggerated faces and making almost sign-language hand-motions to illustrate his lyrics).
FYI, for fans who already have the Worship The Witch ep (or are thinking about getting it): 3 of that disc's 4 tracks are repeated here, albeit in rerecorded form. They also redo four songs from their now-out-of-print debut, which is fine 'cause the production here is much much better than on that first full-length.
Better start doing some special stretches to limber up that neck. Your neck's gotta be in shape 'cause the headbanging is about to commence, and it'll be fierce. Skeletonwitch is back, Breathing The Fire. The vocalist sure sounds like he's been doing just that, with his commanding raspy shrieks and guttural growls, in a hybrid black metal/death metal style. Meanwhile the band's music, as always, veers from those extremes (reminding of Dissection) to their old school '80s thrash and speed metal inspirations (there's definitely some Megadeth going on here). If you know Skeletonwitch (and it seems like most AQ metal customers do, and dig 'em big time just like us), you know what to expect: a whirlwind barrage of riffs, solos, battery. Twin guitars sending swarms of notes speeding on demon winds, that sort of thing. All in the service of Satan or whatever unholy horned beastie you prefer (like the fella on the cover, Skeletonwitch's own Eddie or Vic Rattlehead style mascot, who is called, uh, we don't know, Mr. Skeletonwitch? Skeletonwitchdude?). Though you might not understand what the singer is "singing" without reference to the lyric sheet, the song titles give a good idea: "Submit To The Suffering", "Released From The Catacombs", "Crushed Beyond Dust", "Blinding Black Rage", "Strangled By Unseen Hands"... not happy stuff. Yet any metalhead worth his denim will be grinning as this spins, quaffing a few cans of beer in celebration. While this disc hits the ground running for sure, we'd say it gets better as it goes, and boy does it go, each track blazing by a 2-3 minute conflagration of sheer metal madness.
What should we expect from headbanging Ohio heshers Skeletonwitch here, on full length number four? More of their raging blackened thrash extremity, no doubt, and that's indeed what they deliver, after a brief acoustic intro! Eleven aggro tracks packed with rasping vokills, skilled melodic soloing, and blasting battery.
We've been fans of this band since back when they were about as underground as you could get, now they're on the cover of the big glossy metal magazines, touring with the likes of Arch Enemy and Danzig, but still stick to their original MO of mixing old school '80s thrash with more modern black and death metal stylings... and doing it with poseur-killing panache. Their brand of speedy shred is tight and ripping, leavened with moments of classy melodiousness.
While the entire album seems intended to be consumed (or consume you) in one sitting, track after track flashing/thrashing by, each one of 'em wrecking necks before passing the spiked baton to the next song, several stand out in particular, such as the remarkably poppy "The Infernal Resurrection".
And at just over 32 minutes in length, Forever Abomination doesn't overstay its welcome, instead leaving us wanting more, which of course leads to pulling out their previous albums, as well as discs by such bands as Destruction, Dissection, Aura Noir, Coroner, Audiopain, Defleshed...
The cd comes in a digipack, with embossed cover art, the double lp version is housed in a nice thick tri-fold sleeve and is on colored wax to boot.
Graced with some pretty amazing fake Pushead cover art (by John Baizley of Baroness), this four-song ep is a strong contender for being the most intensely tight and brutal Bay Area thrash meets NWOBHM meets blackened death styled 12 minutes of heavy metal you're gonna hear this year! Imagine a hybrid of Coroner, Slough Feg, and Dissection, with ultra-raspy death metal screaming n' grunting vokills. That's Ohio's Skeletonwitch, who do in fact get a big endorsement from our pals in Slough Feg, who played with them a couple times this summer. And the truth is, cool as this ep is, seeing them live will *really* make you a believer. The razor-sharp riffs, shredding leads and sick harmonies are all the more impressive when being pulled off perfectly in person, these heshers thrashing like mad on stage in a strobe-lit fog cloud. And it's great beer drinkin' music too, that's for sure. But for home use this ep is a worthy addition to their so-far scant discog (they have one full-length album previous to this that we gave the thumbs/horns up from us last year). Racing and bracing, Worship The Witch is a perfectly titled and all-too short assault from a truly badass band (and nice bunch of guys).
Originally released on Skelton's own Sustain-Release Private Press Imprint in 2009 as a sonic accompaniment to a collection of writings bearing the same name, both were made over a period of 4 years in the landscape of Lancashire's West Pennine Moors. The chilly Arcadian climate sets the perfect tone for Skelton's oblique investigations into memory, displacement and loss. Made with huge washes of long-form bowed string drones and piano tones in a deep engagement with the natural surroundings, you can feel the all-encompassing frost, the cold water on falling leaves, and the harsh blanket of wind through a threadbare shelter. Attempting to resolve the delicate boundary between intense loneliness and tranquil solitude, these recordings take off from the personal memorial to his wife of his last release under the moniker A Broken Consort, and into a beautifully larger dialogue of place, history and perseverance.
A new, one-song ep from Finland's masters of depressive forest doom metal. Of course, it's over 27 minutes long--over the course of which, they somehow (slowly) 'rock out' moreso than on anything we've heard from them thus far--but that is in no way to say that their crushing and suffocating funereal doom is not the most devestating and intense we've perhaps ever heard. It is. They still possess a stately, almost religious quality (and enough ambience to maintain their AQ-declared status as the Labradford of black metal).
It's so difficult for a doom band to carve out a totally unique sound. Slow, check. Downtuned, check. Plodding tempos, check. Growled vox, check. Nothing to do but get slower and lower, but you can only get so slow or so low, before the music stops being actual sound and instead turns into some sort of physical thing, like a big molten lump of mysterious blackness. Plus, odds are, in a name-that-tune style test, most of us would be hard pressed to tell one ultra doom band from another funereal doom band, or one doomdirgedrone outfit from another slow motion sludge combo. But then there's Skepticism, who even after 17 years, and some dramatic sonic shifts, still sound like no one else. Their warm washed out blend of chugging ultra low guitar and warm church organ-like keyboards, their haunting atmosphere and otherworldy production, sound like NOBODY else.
Way back in the beginning, the way we described Skepticism was like this: imagine a doom metal band jamming out in a church basement, while upstairs the organist practices, playing some haunting liturgical hymns, now imagine a recording made right outside the church's stone walls, so the metal is muted and murky, the pipe organ warm and thick and muffled, so weirdly heavy, but dreary and dreamy. We also at one point described Skepticism as black metal meets Labradford. Both are pretty accurate we think.
It's interesting that such a heavy, low end band would NOT have a bass player, but like all the other records, Skepticism employ just guitar, drums, and keyboards, but once you hear it, a bass would just muddy it up, the sound is already perfect, a dark shimmering heaviness as ethereal as it is crushing. The band's recordings gradually grew less lo-fi, thickening and becoming heavier and heavier, but without losing their distinctive sound. It's been 5 years since the last Skepticism record, Farmakon, and in that time, the band have once again subtly altered their sound, incorporating a bit more classic doom, a bit more propulsion as well, a little more 'chug', varying the sound more than ever, but around these new elements is still wrapped that thick, warm black Skepticism sonic monk cloak.
The strangest song is probably "March October", with its clean guitar, it's lurching chug, and it's almost drinking song like vocals, howled by a singer who we can't help but imagine is covered in sabre tooth tiger pelts, sporting a black beard to his waist, a massive mountain of a man, leading us on a brave march into certain death. The whole record is epic and majestic, funereal and crushing, morose, atmospheric and dismally, depressively beautiful. Anyone at all into bands like Esoteric, Thergothon, Shape Of Despair, Corrupted, Evoken, Boris, Khanate, Eyehategod, Cavity, Electric Wizard, Moss, Bunkur, SUNNO))), Thou, Trees, Otesanek, Fleshpress, Monarch, Nihill, Monument Of Urns, Atavist, Noothgrush, Catacombs, Winter, should either already love Skepticism, or should buy this, and then buy every single thing they've ever recorded, because as much as we love all of those bands, we just might love Skepticism the most...
BACK IN PRINT, and re-listed for those whose funereal doom collections are lacking this crucial entry. Twenty-seven minutes of pure depression from the cold dark woods of Finland.Ô
Skepticism are the masters of ultra doom. Their sound we once described as sitting in a stone church, surrounded by the warm sounds of an old pipe organ, while a doom metal band practices in the basement, their funereal crawl barely audible through the floor, the two sounds mixed into a slow slthery doomish creep. Here on theÔsequel to Skepticism's brilliant, black-metal-meets-Labradford "Stormcrowfleet" album, these doomic depressives up the production values without losing that distinctive sound. The 12 minute first track starts off with nothing but big booming drums, or actually drum singular, pounding out a simple funereal beat, something like 16 bpm, with chiming church bells and a thick organ drone threatening to drown the listener in a thick black pitch of misery and horror, with the occasional burst of downtuned guitar, only to have it quickly subside and slip back beneath the black drones. This is exactly what you would expect to hear in the underworld, a death march stretchingÔ off into infinity, fire pits on every side, demons wielding big drums stretched tight with human skin. So creepy and hauntingly beautiful. There's even some piano, adding an emotional depth not found in most ultra doom. Like a way heavier Low or a doom metal Codeine. The second track is more guitar heavy, with chords unfurled and allowed to slowly dissipate before the next one drops, there are vocals here too, monstrous chest rattling growls, that almost sound like another guitar, swirling keyboards, faux strings, very dramatic and cinematic. The final track, "Chorale" is epic and infused with a sort of pomp. Huge pipe organs unleash thick vibrant chords that whir and drone, the melodies are sort of festive, or at least as festive as doom can get, it's almost like one would expect to hear in the court of some king of the underworld, sitting at huge tables, watching a procession of doomed souls trudge wearily by. So totally intense. It's been a while since we revisited Skepticism, but we're reminded why there's not a doom band alive (or dead) who can touch the doomic might and glory of Skepticism!
At this point, we know we can count on a large sub-set of Aquarius customers to be as into droney doom metal as we are. Bands like Corrupted, Boris, Khanate, Eyehategod, Cavity, Esoteric, Electric Wizard, etc. always elicit an enthusiastic response when we list 'em. Foremost amongst the doom hordes we must acknowledge Finland's Skepticism. They've been favorites ever since their "Stormcrowfleet" debut back in 1995. Sheer majestic downer atmospherics, religious music for a suicide cult. Appropriately, their distorted guitars, gruff vocals and echoing drums are accompanied by massive amounts of church-organ synth.
According to their own inscrutable tradition, Skepticism always precede each new album with an ep, so we knew that it wouldn't be too long after the "Process of Farmakon" ep (reviewed back on list #142, last year) that we could expect a full-length. Well, it did actually take a while, but at last here it is. Wreathed in smoke and darkness, "Farmakon" features different versions of the two tracks first heard on that ep, and four previously unheard epics. Plodding and miasmic as ever, this album is perhaps less soothing than some past recordings, more harsh and jagged. There's a weird urgency to some of the songs, and plenty of the "what the fuck?" moments we've come to expect from 'em, such as the synthesized "horns" and pretty, post-rockish elements encountered in the unnamed, 13-minute track 4. Lyrically, the band seem to have left the forest for an equally dark sea, judging by their cryptic texts referencing shores, waves, and water. And just what is "Farmakon" or the "Farmakon Process"?? You could try going to the band's website at www.farmakon.com for information on Skepticism and their esoteric ideas, though unfortunately their "Dictionary" page seems to be broken at the moment...
Here's one of those crucial, seminal recordings that somehow (probably 'cause we were much less thorough about these things at the time of its release) never made it into our on-line catalog. Yet we often make reference to it, and have recommended other, subsequent albums by the band, including the recently-released "The Process Of Farmakon" cdep reviewed on list #142.
Happily, Red Stream has just reissued this album, the debut from Finnish doom-lords Skepticism, after some time out of print, and we now have a chance to list it for the first time! Originally issued in 1995, this 2002 version has been (slightly) redesigned graphics-wise but contains the same immense sonic slabs of funereal doom-trudge metal that so awed us seven years back. We hail this album as the ultimate "black-metal-meets-Labradford" listening experience. Totally morose, depressive, atmospheric ambience in heavy dirge death metal mode, with melodies to crush your soul. Medieval organ-like keyboards give this a grim, churchly air, and of course it sounds like it was recorded with the microphones quite distant from the instruments/amps, possibly in a nearby forest.
If like other Skepticism albums and/or are a fan of the likes of Esoteric, Thergothon, Shape Of Despair, Corrupted, Evoken, Burzum's "Filosofem", and other sad and gloomy things, you MUST OWN THIS. 'Nuff said.
It's always a happy day here at Aquarius when we get new music from Finland's Skepticism. I mean, a depressing day. Soooooooo wonderfully depressing. Skepticism are our favorite funereal forest doom metal band, we've described them before as the Labradford of black metal. Almost ambient, droning, downer stuff, plodding along through a nighttime fog. Imagine the music of a suicidal church organist, teamed up with some longhaired Scandinavian death metal teens. Beautiful.
As with all their releases, more of the same yet with enough difference to be a significant, essential addition to their ouevre. This time, the 'what the fuck?' aspect is highlighted by the bizarre bubbling noises that join the gruff vocals and downtuned guitars on the title track, which sounds as if it was recorded on a ship slowing sinking on the River Styx. As is their wont, this two-song ep (18+ minutes) precedes a full-length due out sometime later this year, supposedly.
Even some New Zealand music fanatics haven't heard (or heard of) the Skeptics, a band that featured one of the Gordons, and a member of Bailter Space (the same guy actually), but that's the sort of NZ pedigree that should have most Flying Nun / NZ underground rock nerds flipping their lids. But don't be expecting the murky thud of the Gordons, or the blown out shoegaze heaviness of Bailter Space, the Skeptics occupied a whole different sonic realm, fusing the NZ sound we all know and love to something much more avant grade and experimental, with programmed rhythms and samples, the vibe almost industrial at times, the resulting sound twisted, damaged, demented and totally genius.
Both III (1987) and Amalgam (1990) have been insanely hard to track down for years now, reissued briefly in 1992 in a 4cd box set, which quickly went out of print, and immediately surfaced on the collector's market, and was not surprisingly, outrageously expensive, so we were so psyched to discover that Captured Tracks was including these records in their ongoing Flying Nun reissue campaign (and here's hoping they reissue all the other Skeptics stuff too!). So for now, we can revel in the group's 3rd and 4th records, that 4th record released after the death of David D'Ath, and the group's subsequent dissolution, but what a sonic legacy, one that long deserved the sort of love heaped upon so much other NZ music of the time.
III begins with a twisted smear of looped samples and stuttering sonics, which soon blossom into a lurching creep, snarly crooned vocals over big booming drums, wound up in streaks of distorted guitar buzz, the vibe, gloomy and dark, a sort of post industrial downer rock, that lumbers ominously, and is peppered with weird fragmented samples, melodic shards, super heavy, ominous, and intense, but also weirdly catchy. And it doesn't get any less weird, the sound veering dramatically, from the piano driven post punk of "Agitator", again peppered with strange sound FX and distorted electronics, sounding almost cabaret, like some mutated balladic torch song. "Turnover" slips back into the woozy, murky creep of the opener, the guitars thick and viscous, the vox slithery and blackly sexy, all anchored by a looped rhythm, and again, laced with strange electronic squiggles and twisted blurry samples. And so it goes, "La Motta" almost sounds like Scott Walker via the Butthole Surfers, but with a damaged industrial makeover, "Notice" too is a sort of drugged out industrial noise rock dirge, with some jagged shards of guitar, over a muddy moody downer rock murk, with the rest of the record splitting the difference between home brewed industrial goth and grinding avant post punk crush.
While Amalgam has a similar sonic template, it's a bit more polished, the vocals more prominent, the drums more driving, the pop element more up front, there's even a bit of a new wave vibe, just check out opener "And We bake", which sounds like some lost new wave classic, fused to some girding metal buzz, and twisted mechanical rhythm. But the sound remains sonically sick, the second track, slipping right back into a woozy, warmly dirge, lurching detuned weirdness, clouds of FX and squiggly alien electronics wreath rubbery bass billows, melting riffs, and mush mouthed vocals, seriously trippy and gloriously fucked up.
Amalgam is a lot more varied than its predecessor, some tracks super electronics, others smeary buzzscapes of layered guitars, and super creeped out vocal samples, new wave electro pop and grim, noise drenched sprawls of grim, harrowing, psychedelic noise. It's that balance that makes the record so cool, twisted poppiness, colliding with speaker shredding weirdness, often the two bleeding into each other, creating some unholy hybrid of avant industrial post punk psych-noise, the sort of thing the should appeal equally to weird music obsessives, adventurous goths and fans of experimental twisted noise pop. Which really is pretty much most everybody we know!
Even some New Zealand music fanatics haven't heard (or heard of) the Skeptics, a band that featured one of the Gordons, and a member of Bailter Space (the same guy actually), but that's the sort of NZ pedigree that should have most Flying Nun / NZ underground rock nerds flipping their lids. But don't be expecting the murky thud of the Gordons, or the blown out shoegaze heaviness of Bailter Space, the Skeptics occupied a whole different sonic realm, fusing the NZ sound we all know and love to something much more avant grade and experimental, with programmed rhythms and samples, the vibe almost industrial at times, the resulting sound twisted, damaged, demented and totally genius.
Both III (1987) and Amalgam (1990) have been insanely hard to track down for years now, reissued briefly in 1992 in a 4cd box set, which quickly went out of print, and immediately surfaced on the collector's market, and was not surprisingly, outrageously expensive, so we were so psyched to discover that Captured Tracks was including these records in their ongoing Flying Nun reissue campaign (and here's hoping they reissue all the other Skeptics stuff too!). So for now, we can revel in the group's 3rd and 4th records, that 4th record released after the death of David D'Ath, and the group's subsequent dissolution, but what a sonic legacy, one that long deserved the sort of love heaped upon so much other NZ music of the time.
III begins with a twisted smear of looped samples and stuttering sonics, which soon blossom into a lurching creep, snarly crooned vocals over big booming drums, wound up in streaks of distorted guitar buzz, the vibe, gloomy and dark, a sort of post industrial downer rock, that lumbers ominously, and is peppered with weird fragmented samples, melodic shards, super heavy, ominous, and intense, but also weirdly catchy. And it doesn't get any less weird, the sound veering dramatically, from the piano driven post punk of "Agitator", again peppered with strange sound FX and distorted electronics, sounding almost cabaret, like some mutated balladic torch song. "Turnover" slips back into the woozy, murky creep of the opener, the guitars thick and viscous, the vox slithery and blackly sexy, all anchored by a looped rhythm, and again, laced with strange electronic squiggles and twisted blurry samples. And so it goes, "La Motta" almost sounds like Scott Walker via the Butthole Surfers, but with a damaged industrial makeover, "Notice" too is a sort of drugged out industrial noise rock dirge, with some jagged shards of guitar, over a muddy moody downer rock murk, with the rest of the record splitting the difference between home brewed industrial goth and grinding avant post punk crush.
While Amalgam has a similar sonic template, it's a bit more polished, the vocals more prominent, the drums more driving, the pop element more up front, there's even a bit of a new wave vibe, just check out opener "And We bake", which sounds like some lost new wave classic, fused to some girding metal buzz, and twisted mechanical rhythm. But the sound remains sonically sick, the second track, slipping right back into a woozy, warmly dirge, lurching detuned weirdness, clouds of FX and squiggly alien electronics wreath rubbery bass billows, melting riffs, and mush mouthed vocals, seriously trippy and gloriously fucked up.
Amalgam is a lot more varied than its predecessor, some tracks super electronics, others smeary buzzscapes of layered guitars, and super creeped out vocal samples, new wave electro pop and grim, noise drenched sprawls of grim, harrowing, psychedelic noise. It's that balance that makes the record so cool, twisted poppiness, colliding with speaker shredding weirdness, often the two bleeding into each other, creating some unholy hybrid of avant industrial post punk psych-noise, the sort of thing the should appeal equally to weird music obsessives, adventurous goths and fans of experimental twisted noise pop. Which really is pretty much most everybody we know!
Ski Patrol was a shortlived British post-punk project, formed in 1979 by vocalist Ian Lowery, guitarist Nick Clift, Peter Balmer on bass, and a revolving door of drummers. They crafted an angular, paranoiac sound which equally mined the dub-inflected manic jitteriness of Gang of Four, The Scars, and Killing Joke. After the band self-released their first single, they garnered the attention of Malicious Damage, which had actually released the first handful of Killing Joke singles. By 1981, the band had undergone considerable changes with Balmer splitting to join Fad Gadget and Clift moving into the more business side of things by taking a gig at Rough Trade. The band members who found themselves around Lowery rechristened themselves as The Folk Devils.
Versions Of A Life is an abridged collection of Ski Patrol's recorded output including the band's first two singles, previously unreleased mixes of their third single, and some unreleased songs from their final studio session. "Agent Orange" was the lead track on their second single and featured Jaz Coleman of Killing Joke on synths. This track with its slow building death-disco rhythm section of dub-punk basslines and motorik drums is simple, effective, and super catchy in a deathrock kind of way, complete with macabre / socially critical lyrics. "Everything Is Temporary" was the A side to the band's first single, holding court with the sparse art-punk leanings of Essential Logic or maybe In Camera (the pre-Wolfgang Press project). The whole collection is an eye-opener, introducing us to a band that had escaped our knowledge almost entirely and made us more than curious as to what Lowery, et al had done in Ski Patrol's wake. Another gem from Dark Entries!
Our friends at Deep Note, the ones who brought us those two classic collections of 70's porn music of the same name have really out done themselves this time. Backdoor Daddy is a live comedy performance by Skillet Leroy and Lawanda Page (Esther from Sanford & Son) backed up by a funk band. For 33 minutes the team exchange insults (all of the most X-rated kind), with their randy remarks interspersed with raunchy live funk jams and equally nasty lyrics. Listen to the samples and judge for yourself.
Here at aQuarius, we are no strangers to the insane noise box sets. There is, of course, the Merzbox, the unholy mother of excessive media, then also the Ground Fault ten lp box featuring twenty California-based noiseniks, and the perfectly titled "Box Is Stupid" ten cd Incapacitants box. So, when Hospital announced it would be reissuing a massive selection of Skin Crime material as a twenty cd box, we barely batted a collective eye. 20 cds? Bring it on. It kinda goes without saying that this has a somewhat limited appeal, and there isn't anyone who is gonna be totally swayed by this review into buying it who had never listened to any noise before. But to anyone whose interest is piqued, but is still unsure: this KICKS ASS!
When most people think of "noise music" they probably imagine something somewhat akin to the typical Merzbow sound: totally digital, abstract, blown out, so-noisey-it's-basically-white-noise NOIZE. The most appealing part of the genre for most of us, though, is actually the restraint; that sound of being just on the precipice, hinting towards a menacing threat just around the corner, the sound of something that's about to explode. Skin Crime represent the best work bridging both sounds. Hospital describes it best: "Skin Crime could be said to be the missing link between European musique concrete, Japanese noise, and the gritty abstract electronics of what became the glory and gory days of 'American harsh noise.'" Dense, detailed, layered, and long-form compositions that aurally name check all the masters that came before them - Bianchi, Mauthausen Orchestra, Masonna, Con-Dom, Sutcliffe Jugend - and foreshadow the modern torchbearers of the genre - Prurient, The Rita, Wolf Eyes, Kevin Drumm, and John Wiese. There's tons of great material on here, and a few that stand out as totally essential - Eyestrain and the self-titled lp are major highlights here.
We're pretty sure there's only a handful of aQuarius list readers who are even considering this, but trust us, if you only buy ONE noise box set this year, this is without a doubt THE one. Comes in a beautiful cloth bound, foil-stamped box with a ribbon, individual wallets for each cd (with some pretty grotesque art adorning the covers), a 40-page booklet with info on each release, and a massive 2-sided poster. Obviously extremely limited, already sold out at the source, and totally essential.
Never heard of Skin Graft before (the band, not the label), but this one man noisemaker offers up some seriously and gloriously disturbing blackened noise, a sound that fits pretty comfortably alongside the others in this latest batch of grim black noisy heaviness from Waves Of Decay (Wicked King Wicker, Robe., Demonologists, Dreaded).
After along stretch of keening high end, tense and weirdly melodic, SG begins to introduce all manner of buzz and glitch and malfunctioning electronics, all bathed in reverb and delay, a strange bit of crunch and hiss and stutter laid over the siren like wail of the electronic bed. It manages to be both weirdly listenable, and sonically harrowing, some sort of soundtrack for the kind of movie most folks couldn't handle 5 minutes of, this is the sound of death, and derangement, and misery and something unknown in the dark, so tense and intense and pretty goddamn great.
The rest of the tape follows suit, SG laying down spare electronic glitchscapes, buzzing fields of black ambience, slipping deftly from hushed minimal drift to blown out ear shredding electrical storms, heaving avalanches of feedback soaked noise, to barely there bits of kosmische outer space transmission interference. Cool stuff.
Super sweet three color silkscreened, card stock insert, LIMITED TO 100 COPIES, we have a little handful of those...
Local folks may have seen these guys tearing up stages around town. Although maybe tearing up isn't precisely what these guys do. They're much more of a brooding behemoth. But they're much more than that. Almost confusingly so (but in a good way!) Anyway, Skin Horse are a trio who traffic in long stretches of plodding doom, mathy jangle, and epic post rock, laced with haunting atmospherics and deep black ambience.
This 3 song cd-r is their debut, and each of the three tracks is totally different, and in some cases almost sound like different bands, but somehow, the tracks do manage to fit together, a little disjointedly, but still strangely cohesive.
The opener begins with a sheet of guitar noise under static and strange voices, soaring harmonics, and rumbling drones, when the band do finally kick in, it's a sort of slowcore, dronedoom hybrid. Plodding and downtuned and heavy, but weirdly melodic, the guitars heavy and abstract, the drums a caveman pound, vocals a harsh shriek, Khanate fans will be all over this, as will all ultradoomlords.
But only maybe until the second track, which begins with dark minor key guitar jangle, which erupts into some awesomely nineties sounding mathrock, all clean guitars, and convoluted arrangements, before locking into a spiraling freakout, all tribal rhythms, and squealing feedback, a stuttering riff and swirls of FX, launching immediately into the final track, another blast of angular clean guitar mathrock, but structure like doom, so the chords ring out, the drums crash, but there's tons of space, some super abstract arrangements, killer dynamics, all wrapped around a super intense main minor key melody, the kind of stuff we could listen to forever, before again, locking into an extended outro, a cool woozy chugging groove, that eventually gives way to a brief stretch of moody Slintish drift to finish off.
We've been inundated with post rock metal bands, or post metal or whatever, but Skin Horse are as far as we can remember the first band to fuse math rock with serious doom metal, and we're definitely up for hearing more.
Packaged in hand sewn, hand screened red or black pouches, LIMITED TO 200 COPIES, each one hand numbered.
We'd been dying to hear more Skin Horse ever since their self released 3 song ep from last year, a killer mix of lurching black doom, mathy post rock, and epic dark ambience.
So here we have one new track (it's a long one though, nearly 14 minutes), and it definitely takes off right where the ep left off. Beginning with a dark brooding slowcore skitter, although it's laced with some super strange warbly downtuned tones, that make the whole thing sound a bit twisted and off kilter. The heaviness builds, as heaviness so often does, but here it just wraps itself around that initial post rocky guitar part instead of obliterating it completely, making for some seriously moody heaviness. Once things get going, the guitars are slathered on thick, and allowed to bow and bend the otherwise straight ahead jams into yet another warped groove, there do seem to be vocals, but they're buried way down in the murk.
About halfway through, Skin Horse shift gears and get super intense and aggro, going all mathy, offering up bursts of ultra tight rock, before splintering into some plodding ultra doom, the vocals a caustic wail, the guitars an oozing black buzz, the drums a massive plod, and just as you're getting into that slow motion groove, they shift gears again and bliss out, the guitars becoming nearly translucent, drifting over a sea of sizzling cymbals, weird bits of sampled preaching, dense grinding effects laden buzz, building to another mathy metallic frenzy, before almost dubbing out into a long, sprawling outro. Killer stuff, definitely need to see these guys pull this off live.
Skin Horse share this two song half hour split with a band called Nanda Devi, who we'd never heard before now, but who definitely seem like a good match for Skin Horse. Their 18 minute epic begins with layered sheets of noise, buried bits of melody and softly strummed guitars, which give way to some surprisingly melodic post rocking, the drums massive and LOUD, the guitars simple and stripped down, swirling and building into some metallic Godspeed territory, in come the howled Neurosisy vocals, but the cool thing is, the guitars are still not heavy or distorted, instead jangling and shimmering and singing and soaring, a good contrast with the raw gruff vocals and the wildly chaotic drumming. They too shift gears part way through, the drums getting all tribal, the guitars getting more angular, and beginning another slow build, until a second guitar swoops in adding all sorts of spaciness to the proceedings. Another bout of howled vocals, and the song unwinds in a flurry of tripped out spaced out swirling whirling epic heaviness. Bad ass. And BOTH bands here come WAY recommended.
Punishing and pounding old school death metal. Heavy on the low end and furiously fast, with insane drumming, blazing riffs, grunting growling vocals and a bunch of goofy samples.
When over the course of many years a cutting edge band's signature edge has been shamelessly pillaged -- and in turn become a mainstay of the edge-of-mainstream -- what are they to do when they decide to reunite? March out the old standards? Hopefully not. Resurface with a potent new strain? Perhaps. Ideally not end up sounding like a shadow of their former selves and a sound alike of younger upstarts. Unlike other veteran bands who've reformed after lengthy absences, Skinny Puppy fortunately haven't done the former. However, unlike other groundbreaking phoenixes such as Killing Joke, they also haven't returned to their fiery pulpit to school the new generation.
SP has always been detailed, monumentally monstrous and rich in intriguing sounds, but for Mythmaker, the group's interplay of chance/cut-ups and spin-the-radio-dial distortion adventures seem to have vanished. The difference seems to mostly lie in the choice to stop using tapes of media sources -- documentary television, radio, European and Canadian underground psychological horror films, and underreported war-reality-radio-broadcasts as surrealistic textures. This is most noticeable in two vital areas: the group's trademark collaged soundscapes crafted by Cevin Key -- now so few and far between, but markedly more than on 2004's reunion album The Greater Wrong Of The Right -- sound much less 'hands on' sculpted and more reliant on software rubik's-grids. In general, there's an absence of friction, tension and of ill-tempered spectral presences. As well, Nivek Ogre's 'singing' (i.e, not his former textural guttural Artaud-isms) are almost completely audible, being processed through a vocoder, with a heavy dose of 'stutter-edit' and auto-tune set to 'death grip' (we actually wish that they were even further effected, preferably to the point of incoherence because some of the rhyming lyrics are shockingly simplistic. Hard to believe that they came from the same poison pen as "Testure", "Harsh Stone White" or "Who's Laughing Now?" from VIVIsectVI, 1988). Ultimately, Mythmaker's atmospheres feel something like Richard Devine's industrial IDM processed through a faux-metal 'zombie America' video game soundtrack. One thing that has returned to a more prominent and welcome role is Key's artfully crafted drumming and percussion sounds. No playing shows up like the mesmerizing kraut-funk of Tear Garden's Last Man To Fly era recordings, mind you, but it's nice to hear some wood and metal mixed in with the filter swept electro-raindrop snares. Some of Ken Marshall's best mixing work can usually be found on Cevin Key's projects, and as usual, it slams. Overall, Mythmaker is a better record than its predecessor (although it does have a couple of 'oops' songs unfortunately and weirdly one is the opener "Magnifishit"!), and shows the group to be at the stylistic apex / end of this particular version of the 'Puppy sound.
Yep, SP are doing things they haven't done before, and for better or for worse -- you decide -- they've moved on, and are leaving the Skinny Puppy of old on the mantle to continue its disembodied haunt.
Here it is... the long overdue, highly anticipated, never expected to actually happen new album from the reunited Skinny Puppy! Yes, the surviving bandmates' differences appear to have been set aside. So now, eight long years after their split and fifteen after their masterpiece, VIVIsect VI, what does the 'Puppy sound like? Well, one word that might be fitting is "reinvented", as thankfully this is not a memory lane trip. Actually, it seems as though The Greater Wrong Of The Right could have been called the third 'Ohgr' album rather than the return of Skinny Puppy. For one thing (much like on his solo albums) Nivek Ogre is mostly singing rather than vocalizing in gutteral gasps and inhuman hisses. Whereas the vocals used to often be another mysterious texture, they are now up-front and decidedly 'songy'. Not necessarily a bad thing, but the noses of hardcore Puppy fans might get a little out of joint when they also discover that their beloved band's former trademark unsettling / confrontational elements are for the most part absent from this album. Heavy and dramatic, yes. Sinister and atmospheric, no. Skinny Puppy with the lights on? Also gone are the soundtrack-style interludes which gave previous albums such an intense bad-dream setting. Nonetheless, Cevin Key's mastery of sound craft is in full effect, and he's given an excellent, detailed mix by long-time Puppy (and more recently I Am Spoonbender) collaborator Ken Marshall. Producer Mark Walk (Ohgr) is clearly responsible for the vocal range leap achieved here by singer Ogre, and demonstrates the most visible break between 'now' Puppy and 'then' Puppy. Not surprisingly, the results are huge, intricately detailed works. However, whereas this band's recordings used to be some of the most difficult, groundbreaking and influential mood music around -- somehow
both genre-defining and genre-defying -- on a vast number of these tracks they now sound more like 'one of the (nu-metal / modern rock) gang'. Very leather'n'latex, Matrix / Blade 2 movie soundtrack-ready, by way of the Schematics Records IDM camp. Still, quality stuff. Appropriately, guests include Otto Von Schirach and weirdly, members of Static-X, Tool, and Collide.
We've been flipping out over all the Chinese indie rock that's been coming our way recently, including a killer slab of shoegaze noise pop from a group called Boyz & Girl, which we reviewed a while back, and maybe unsurprisingly is made up of several boyz and one girl. Well, that one girl also plays in this group, Skip Skip Ben Ben, and also maybe not so surprisingly, the sound of SSBB is not that far removed from B&G, channeling nineties indie rock, shoegaze pop, noise rock, even some twee pop into something that melds big fuzzy guitar, classic jangly shimmer, blissed out shoegaze, and dreamy ethereal female vox. Where B&G seemed to fuse the Pixies and Sonic Youth and My Bloody Valentine, SSBB is more washed out and dreamy, the sound more moody and minimal, bass driven, with the vocals buried in the mix, the whole thing druggy and hypnotic, some songs, like opener "Last Night" are super rocking, driving and propulsive, while others, like "La' Lasta" are hazy and hushed and darkly dreampoppy, which tends to be the vibe of most of the record, minus some super kinetic rockers ("Walkmen"), but even then, the vibe is minor key and a bit wistful. Sometimes SSBB sound like a female fronted Crystal Stilts, other times like a more druggy and dour Dum Dum Girls, and at others like a heavier, broodier Beach House. But we find ourselves digging it as much, if not more than that Boyz & Girl record, which we loved! Obviously WAY recommended!
Housed in a super striking oversized full color jacket!
This one was definitely made for aQ. Self described black noise / doom metal from Maniac, formerly of Norwegian black metal legends Mayhem, joined by Kvarforth of Swedish black metallers Shining, and Attila from SUNNO))) (and also Mayhem oddly enough) and featuring music by Current 93. A pretty odd mix for sure, especially the two former Mayhem vocalists, and what's even more odd, is that this release features only two studio tracks, the other 6 recorded live, one of which is an intro recorded by David Tibet and Andrew Liles as Current 93. But a strange band deserves a strange release, so here we go.
The opening title track is some super abstract noise drenched doom, falling somewhere between Khanate, Gnaw Their Tongues and something much more spacious and abstract. A simple little guitar melody drifts through a landscape of howled and shrieked vocals, thick bursts of caustic crumbling distortion, little flurries of metallic chug, haunting minor key melodies, a truly twisted doomscape for sure, but it's Maniac's vocals (as well as Attila's here) that make it so fucked up and freaked out. So impossibly harsh and intense, a monstrous growl/shriek totally in the red, swallowing up all the sounds around it, managing to sound as creepy and crawly as it does intense and insane. There's tons of shit going on in the background too, strange voices speaking, other instruments drifting in and out, random samples and field recordings, some buried percussion, all only adding to the weirdness.
The second studio track is a whole different story, a hugely heavy slab of plodding doom metal, guitars thick and loud and distorted, layer upon layer of grind and crumble and buzz, the vocals super intense, slipping from hellish shriek to demonic growl and back again. Lots of effects, the arrangement full of starts and stops, plenty of grinding guitar lurking beneath the main riff, a loping freaky fucked up ultradoom jam for fans of Moss, Monarch, Nihill, Bunkur, Whitehorse, etc.
The rest of the disc is a live show recorded at the Camden Underworld in the UK in 2007, and begins with a creepy Current 93 intro, with David Tibet, howling his strange invective, over a wash of hiss and white noise and guitar rumble, until the band launch into a live version of the second studio track mentioned above which launches the band into an expansive trudge through some serious tweaked and twisted doom. Live it sounds a lot less freaked out and a lot more TRUE, huge riffing, caveman drums, amazing throat shredding vocals, the sound is definitely raw and live sounding, but it perfectly suits Skitliv's hellish black doom. The record closes with a live version of "Amfetamin", the track that opened the disc, and it's appropriately intense, the addition of drums doing nothing to take away from its minimal menace, the focus less on vocals (minus a flurry of howls and shrieks midway through) and more on the droning guitars and grinding crumbling creepy black ambience.
Ultra limited picture disc 10" from this damaged and demented avant black doom outfit featuring former Mayhem frontman Maniac, Niklas Kvarforth from black metal outfit Shining, and Current 93's David Tibet among others. One side features an introductory collage created by David Tibet / Current 93, that the band used for an intro at their shows, and it's classic Current 93, a sort of demented slowly decaying gypsy folk, with Tibet's increasingly anxious and frantic vocalizing, his vocals multitracked so the track builds to a frenzied climax, with multiple Tibets howling and shrieking "Who will deliver me from myself?!". The other two tracks are alternate versions of tracks on Skandinavisk Misantropi, one a demo, and one an alternate mix, but they kind of sound better here, the guitars more raw, the sound more fierce and feral, the vocals SICK, the band unfurling lurching lumbering doomy blackness, but laced with unlikely melodies, "Slow Pain Coming" manages to be fucked up and hateful, the vocals especially harsh, but the music is surprisingly melodic, and there's an awesome breakdown partway through where the band lurches and starts and stops, while the vocals just gargle and rasp and howl. The demo of "A Valley Below" is way more low fidelity, but again, it sounds so much more fucked up and frightening, the vocals especially again, even more inhuman, makes you wonder what they did on the record proper, cuz here, they just ooze and drip, super intense and freaky, perfectly suiting the low slung slither underneath. Makes us want to go back and listen to the full length again, Or just keep listening to these two tracks over and over.
Super nice artwork on the picture disc, an appropriately gruesome painting on one side, and an original David Tibet painting on the other. LIMITED TO 777 COPIES!!!
The first proper release from these Swedish metal misanthropes. Their last release, Amfetamin, while quite excellent, was more of a compilation, with only two studio tracks, the others recorded live, and thus wasn't super cohesive.
But that's not a problem here. We weren't sure what to expect really, considering our only exposure to Skitliv previously was the aforementioned Amfetamin, but whatever it is we thought we might here, this is way better, heavier, darker, catchier and creepier, which shouldn't be that much of a surprise really, after all, guitarist Kvarforth plays in Shining, Ondskapt, Manes, Den Saakaldte among others, and the band features Mayhem's Maniac on vocals, and this record in particular features a pretty bad ass set of guests, Gaahl, formerly of Gorgoroth, Attila (also of Mayhem, as well as Aborym and Tormentor), and of course David Tibet from Current 93, who also guested on the first record.
On Amfetamin, Skitliv trafficked in a sort of stumbling abstract doom, and that doom vibe is definitely present here, but the sound is at once more blackened, and more melodic, the grim riffing and harsh vokills wrapped around almost Lifelover style minor key melodies, the songs super catchy, almost like a black metal My Dying Bride or a more well produced Hypothermia, some of the tracks slipping into minimal moody drifts, creeping black ambience, and almost post rock sounding skitter, while all around, clouds of strange effects and processed electronics swirl and swoop, giving the proceedings a definite spaced out vibe.
David Tibet's contribution is immediately recognizable, his track sounding like a black metal Current 93, haunting and otherworldly, his manic vocals over clean guitars, even some piano, before the song explodes in a frenzy of howling buzz.
Elsewhere the tracks occasionally burst into full on blasting blackness, but just as often splinter into a swirling hazy almost pop sounding plod, with cool harmonized guitar leads, and more melancholic melodies. The record closes with the epic "ScumDrug", a smoldering gothic doomscape, all clean guitar, tinkling pianos, growling demonic vocals and distant distorted riffage, a woozy cabaret crawl that eventually morphs into a freaky collaged outro, all garbled voices and rumbling low end pulses, squalls of white noise hiss, and mysterious gurgles, an appropriately twisted ending to a seriously twisted record.
SklavenTanz are a Korean duo who craft site specific soundworks and performances, rooted in an exploration of what lies beneath their sprawling city, and the various unheard sounds that lurk just below the hubbub of daily life, in this case, they broke into an old abandoned rainwater pumping station, and used the space's natural acoustics and incredible reverb, to weave a gorgeous, and hauntingly bleak soundscape of industrial sonic ruin, skeletal rhythms, mysterious pipe fights, and hushed industrial mesmer. At its core lies the natural sounds of the space, dripping water, distant rumbles, the space resonating along with the city around it, but then SklavenTanz begin to create incidents, interacting with the space, rubbing wood on concrete, stomping their feet, striking metal railings, there also seem to be some sort of actual instruments, as subtle melodies surface throughout, and drift forlornly in austere expanses of barely there shimmer, some of the moments are downright beautiful, serene and tranquil, meditative and mysterious, while others explode into acts of sonic violence, pounding metal on metal, echo drenched howls, primitive musical rituals, howling and feral, urgent and angry - but those moments are few and far between, with the bulk of the record spent in a dreamy subterranean drift, monk-like chants, extended chordal drones, intercepted shortwave broadcasts, all wreathed in a patina of disuse and decay. However, the last ten minutes, shrugs off much of that sonic ruin, and letting the warm melodic thrum underpinning the action move to the fore, softly pulsing and undulating, rife with rich overtones, finally transforming into a strangely lovely, sun dappled ur-drone, as if emerging from the dank dark and into the light, all the while, in the background, the duo continue to mine mysterious sounds from the space, creating a strange background framework, over which is laid this gorgeously serene and mesmeric coda.
Comes in a full color digipak, with a printed poster/insert with photos and liner notes.
New full length of twisted, groovy, outsider Neanderthal dance rock post punk whatthefuckery from these Minneapolis knuckle dragging, dancefloor deviants, whose sound is a splatter of synth squelch and analog blurt over dubbed out Load-rock style grooviness. Think Butthole Surfers or Chrome, but via Foetus or ESG or something equally preposterous, someone here thought it sounded like a mash up of some obscure Nirvana Bleach demo and the soundtrack to Cafe Flesh (!), although the closest noise rock analogue would obviously be Six Finger Satellite.
Kryptonym Bodliak is all sci-fi eighties retro club music and raw post punk funkiness, roughed up a bit around the edges and flecked with subtle noise rockisms, the least subtle of which are the vocals, super fucked up and heavily processed, alternately barked and howled, moaned and garbled, apparently the result of a contact mic-ed gasmask, transforming the vocals into a stuttering, mush-mouthed speaking-in-tongues sort of alien Make-Up style testifyin', all draped over lo-fi drum grooves, skronky sax, junkyard percussion, primitive keyboards, and thick slithery basslines. The band definitely seem capable of pulling off some true old school style post punk funk, but they're obvious noiseniks at heart, so that stuff is wreathed in plenty of cacophony and crunch, the results surprisingly rad, and the sort of stuff that must get a crowd of sweaty punks to shake their rumps, which is never a bad thing.
Oh yeah! Sweden strikes again! The great Subliminal Sounds label (who brought us Dungen, as well as reissues from the likes of Baby Grandmothers and Trad Gras Och Stenar) seem to have revved up their faux-way-back machine to bring us what sounds a heck of a lot like an early '70s proto-metal reissue but in fact isn't, the longhaired young rockers of Skogen Brinner belonging to the here and now, somehow. But man this sure sounds like 1971, sheer hellacious FUZZ filled heaviness, wild wailing retro-proto-metal-punk-garage action. The Skogen Brinner boys don't hold back at all, and this stuff sounds too raw and real to be for calculated effect, it's not mere 'cool' retro posing. No, playing what you hear here clearly comes quite naturally to them - maybe their parents raised 'em on steady diet of Black Sabbath, Pentagram, and Wicked Lady? And the records of Swedish '70s proto-metal masters November for sure.
The singing is almost all in Swedish, and is performed with manic, aggressive attitude, though both vocals and music don't lack for melody when required - track eight, "Vargen Till Forvirring", being a nice brief acoustic respite from all the fuzzed out madness. Mostly though, yeah, it's hard hitting psychedelic freakorama, with lotsa fuzz guitar, some organ, echoing studio effects, and "hairy funk" grooves that would get Finders Keepers DJ Andy Votel all hot and bothered if he found this music on some vintage 45. Oh, and there's even saxophone on two tracks, "Odjurtets Hamnd" and "Farsonas Berg", riffing just as hard as the guitars. The only song with an English title and lyrics is called "Speed Freak", if that tells you anything. That track somehow sounds kinda like Mainliner gone medieval & martial. Total biker metal brilliance, there!
Belongs in the collection (and in heavy rotation on the playback devices) of anyone who also loves Kadavar, Burning Saviours, Troubled Horse, Horisont, Danava, La Ira De Dios, Scorpion Child, and other current bands bringing these heavy '70s sounds back. Ok, look - you know we love this sort of stuff. And we say Skogen Brinner have got the goods, get it!
Digipack cd or gatefold vinyl, both adorned with band portraits in '70s underground comix style, perfect.
Admittedly expensive, import 7" from this amazing band of Swedish throwbacks. Retro '70s heavy rockin' with tons of FUZZ, these guys are dang good at sounding like it's 1973 and they're the ones inventing punk and glam and heavy metal while partying hard at the same time. The A-side, "Mr. Fantastic", sounds kinda like one of the happy songs on Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, but with a Swedish singer and lots of drum fills. It goes through a bunch of changes, eventually it taking off into space with plenty of synth squiggle, but also intensifying the headbanging quotient too. Bonus points for the toilet flushing at the end. The B-side is called "Hickory Dickory Dog (Song Overheard In The Night)", and that gets bonus points for its title alone!!
Even if we didn't make this Record of the Week, we'd probably still be selling quite a few of 'em, as we're sure we've got a lot of knowledgeable record-collector-type customers for whom adding this to cart will be but the work of a second, the second after their eyes bug out upon seeing the artist and title listed above. But since this reissue is not only of an incredible rarity but also of an incredible record, we wanted to make sure everybody heard about it, besides those for whom it's already a "holy grail". Yep, Joakim Skogberg's original 1972 Jola Rota LP definitely falls into the highly obscure "holy grail" category, a lost treasure for lovers of weird, wonderful acid-folk and underground psychedelia. The sort of thing that develops a legend that it can't possibly live up to... but then DOES, blowing minds when it's finally reissued. The sort of thing that's whispered about among connoisseurs of psych, written of in a few select fanzines and blogs, heard only by a lucky few who got an Nth generation cassette dub or cd-r burn from a friend, who got it from a friend, and so on. The sort of thing, that even a few years after a brief exposure to its wonders, will make you stop and think every once in a while, dang when is someone finally gonna reissue that amazing obscure album??? Some other recently excavated examples would include Moolah's Woe Ye Demons Possessed, Bobb Trimble's Harvest Of Dreams, and Gary Higgins's Red Hash... and before that, once upon a time Comus's First Utterance too would have fallen into that category. Bruce Haack's Electric Lucifer as well, though originals of that were and are much MUCH easier to come by. Whereas *this* album was originally pressed in an edition of around just one thousand copies -- of which only a few hundred were ever sold back in the day, with the remainder of the pressing being, gasp, melted down to be recycled into other LPs!
So, here it is, artist Joakim Skogsberg's lone album Jola Rota finally, officially reissued for the very first time! Our hearts went pitter pat when we found out. We first heard this when our friend Loren Chasse (of Of/Thuja/Jewelled Antler/etc. fame) floated us a cd-r burn he had gotten from a pal overseas a couple years ago, as per the scenario outlined above. He figured we'd like it, and of course he was right. What's not to like? Swedish-forest-folk hippie ritual mixed with droned-out psych guitar. Truly strange, and captivating, vocal mumble. And, get this, it was actually mostly recorded out in a forest, on portable reel-to-reel gear!! Once out of the woods, the raw recordings were overdubbed (Skogsberg being responsible for all sounds on this album) in studio, but remain quite raw, the mystery and majesty of northern landscapes, dark shadowy places, placid lakes, tall trees and moss-covered rocks utterly alive in the music of the nature-loving Skogsberg.
Side One starts off with "Jola Fran Ingbo", which introduces Joakim's unusual "Jola" singing style derived from Swedish trad folk, also heavily influenced by Buddhist chant, accompanied by staccato bowings of ominous violin. Immediately this is waaaay darker than most other Swedish folk/psych we've heard! Seriously droney and austere. That's followed by the more freaked out, rockier "Offer Rota", which finds Skogsberg singing whilst pounding away on percussion and unfurling a thick layer of distorted guitar murk, with what sounds like a Jew's Harp warbling in the background. The next piece, "Fridens Lijor", on the other hand, is an unaccompanied vocal piece, close-miced and intimate, all about Skogsberg's fragile Jola babble...
Beginning side two, "Besvarjelse Rota" builds up a dubby, bassy electronic rhythmic whomp-whomp throb beneath its damaged psych guitar wail, that (in our warped imagination) foreshadows modern minimal techno a la Chain Reaction, "heroin house" beats.... could almost be Pole jamming with Algarnas Tradgard or something! Later, the lengthy "Jola Fran Stensate" harkens back to the solemnity of the album's first track, and then "Jola Fran Leksand" winds up this unique, amazing trip with something of a pagan campfire dance piece, for folky fiddle and rattling hand percussion.
Overall, though, Jola Rota's mood is solitary and ceremonial. Skogsberg not a guru leading his followers, but rather one man, inspired, singing devotional songs to nature, in personal communion with the ancient deities of Sweden and the universe... it IS universal, probably why it sounds simultaneously like krautrock and Tibetan worship and Native American prayer-songs. The universality of the drone, and the human voice in spiritual reverence regardless of language. At its droniest, many moments here recall Parson Sound or the aforementioned Moolah. Totally, magically mesmeric. Wow... EVERYONE who's heard this since we got it in has been entranced.
And we're extra happy that not only has this been reissued, but that the reissue was done by our pal Johan's Tokyo-based Tiliqua Records (along with EM Records, one of our absolute favorite reissue labels from that part of the world, or anywhere else). Which means, it's done up deluxe, packaged in a swank miniature gatefold LP-style sleeve, and it's been remastered from the original tapes with the help of Skogsberg himself. There's also new liner notes and previously unpublished photos of the long haired and bearded (of course) Skogsberg included. Nice! Sadly, this too is limited to a one-time pressing of only 1,000 copies... and unlike the original vinyl edition, we doubt the label will be left with any unsold copies to recycle!
FYI there will also be a super, super limited (and expensive) vinyl version of this coming on on Tiliqua in May, not sure if we'll be able to get any of those at all or if they'll be a label-direct preorder thing only...
Some early '70s vintage, groovy orchestrated French psych-pop sound good to you? Maybe even better if created by a very hip, mystic-minded musician (Skornik) inspired by LSD and the esoteric writings of a controversial Gurdjieff disciple (Louis Pauwels, author of counterculture bestseller The Morning Of The Magicians)? Well then have we got a reissue for you!! Guy Skornik's Pour Pauwels is a fantastic progressive pop opus, its symphonic, psychedelic sounds mixing together dramatic French vocals (both spoken and sung), romantic piano, moody melodies, jaunty horns, sudden curlicues of psych guitar wail, and more. A song-based soundscape, almost cinematic, it's for fans of the freakier side of the Serge Gainsbourg oeuvre for sure, a la Historie De Melody Nelson. Freakier than that, really - this was originally issued in 1970 by the Pathe label, who around the same time also released records by Igor Wakhevtich and Gerard Manset, and this fits right in with the likes of them. If you're like us, oui oui this sounds good, in fact it's pretty much irresistible.
The thick cd booklet, in both French and English, features very interesting and extensive liner notes, delving into the careers of both Skornik and Pauwels, including an in-depth, present-day interview with the former.
