For fans of freaky psych and wild heavy noisiness, an album title like Ultra High Dimensionality should definitely conjure up images of long haired Japanese bands from the seventies, of huge amps, bell bottoms, trippy light shows and extreme volume. It's the sort of title you might expect to find on a Mainliner or White Heaven record, which we're guessing was probably the idea, since this band is not in fact Japanese, but British, and are fronted by Mike Vest, he of psychedelic doomlords Bong! But this IS meant to be an homage of sorts to that classic Japanese sound, especially Les Rallizes Denudes, coupled with the downtuned crush of the Bong mothership of course, and if that sounds good to you (and why the hell wouldn't it?!), you're likely ready for some serious Ultra High Dimensionality.
Forty minutes of epic heavy psych, still a bit doomy, and spacey, after all, as the saying (sort of) goes, you can take the man out of Bong, but odds are he'll likely drag some of that doominess with him, but it makes for a killer mix, just check out the opener, which sounds, as you might have surmised, like Les Rallizes Denudes by way of Bong, a loping, slow burner, all blown out psychedelic balladry wreathed in dense swirls of distorto guitar, and anchored by some hard hitting drumming, the sort of brooding slow build heaviness we could get lost in forever, total seventies style psychedelic smolder, in fact, most of Ultra High Dimensionality sounds like some alternate dimension version of Les Rallizes Denudes, which is most definitely not a bad thing, the tempos generally slow, lumbering, but seriously tripped out, equal parts doomy and psychedelic, if you ever wished those Les Rallizes records weren't so lo-fi (although, why would you?), this will definitely hit the spot. And while this is most definitely far enough removed from the doooooom of Bong, to maybe disappoint some doomlords, folks into The Heads, White Hills, Carlton Melton, and all that psychedelic space rock stuff, as well as all the aforementioned Japanese psych combos, this comes HIGHLY recommended.
Pressed on 180 gram vinyl, housed in a swank sleeve, screen printed on grey recycled cardstock in metallic ink. Includes a download code too.
Latest from this Southern doom/sludge supergroup, featuring none other than Dixie Dave of Weedeater and Buzzov*en as well as T-Roy Medlin from Sourvein, and members of Beaten Back To Pure and Alabama Thunder Pussy, and while you might be expecting the usual dose of NOLA drug induced slo-mo downtuned sludge-dirge bliss, you'd only be half right, cuz these guys spend much of their time on Disperse The Curse blasting and thrashing and pounding away, cranking up the tempo, channeling Motorhead and High On Fire, spitting out a sort of blackened sludge thrash, with furious riffing and flurries of frantic double kick drumming, the songs lurching from tarpit creep to Sabbathy swagger to full on blasting thrashed out riffrock heaviness. The vocals a glass gargling rasp, the band unfurling some surprisingly melodic stuff here and there, leads, guitar harmonies, which pepper the otherwise feedback drenched pound and pummel.
Opener "Shoot The Pigs" is a killer, some seriously hook filled heaviness, with wicked drumming, equally wicked riffing, and a downright proggy arrangement, it's all pretty fast except for a half time churning riffy creep that KILLS.
"Gifted Horse" is more of the same, the double kick drums adding some serious heft to the already thrashing blackened pummel, the band slipping to sludgey grooves here and there, but it's not until track three, the title track, that things get downright sludgey and dirgey, sounding like some Southern Rock band on Quaaludes. And so the rest of the record goes, swinging wildly from tarpit crush to blown out blast, culminating in the epic doom sludge crawl of record closer "Blacked Out In Broad Daylight", that beyond pounding and creeping and howling and buzzing, manages to get downright psychedelic to boot!
There's always room in the world for a new music magazine, especially one obviously undertaken with a passion for the music covered inside, well written and interestingly laid out. And we're always in need of a new metal magazine for sure. Considering Terrorizer is so hard to get, Decibel can be a bit too snarky and ironic sometimes, and Metal Maniacs is a good read, but ultimately really light weight. So we're pleased as punch that there's a new metal mag on the block. The appropriately titled Hails & Horns. This is issue number one, so we can assume they're still feeling their way around, but even so, this is a pretty great magazine heavy on the metalcore for sure, but plenty of death/black/thrash/doom as well, and jam packed with tons of articles. It feels really thin, but open it up and it's a bit hard to believe how many bands are covered. There's only a few pages of reviews in this first issue, instead the focus is on metal news and articles and interviews with band after band after band. On the cover, Underoath. Inside, an interview with Tom Araya of Slayer, a look at the Finnish metal / black metal scene, a history of the West Memphis Three (three kids imprisoned for supposedly murdering three local children, but more realistically imprisoned for being goth rock weirdos / individual thinkers) and an update on recent developments in the case, columns from Bill Ward of Black Sabbath and Kurt Ballou from Converge, in the studio with Norma Jean, Misery Signals and more, as well as articles about / interviews with Poison The Well, Ministry, Summoning, Rammstein, In Flames, Amorphis, Children Of Bodom, Behemoth, Cathedral, Atreyu, Sepultura, Fall Of Troy, Arch Enemy and a whole lot more.
Plus every issue will come with a cd featuring new and unreleased songs. This time around: Goatwhore, Satyricon, Misery Index, Torche, Shadows Fall, Underoath, Arch Enemy, Cattle Decapitation, Unearth, Eighteen Visions, Artimus Pyledriver and lots more.
Not bad for five bucks!
Latest issue from this up and coming metal mag, doing its best to give Terrorizer and Decibel and Revolver a run for their money.
On the cover: Shadows Fall. In the studio with Hopesfall, Zonaria, Ruiner, Throwdown and Nora. Bill Ward of Black Sabbath's monthly column on drums metal and whatever the heck he feels like rambling on about, plus articles about and interviews with Machinehead, Zao, From Autumn To Ashes, Fu Manchu, Rob Halford, Deftones, Christ Illusion song by song with Slayer's Kerry King and Tom Araya, Cannibal Corpse, Boys Night Out, Firewind, Masters Of Horror mastermind Mick Garris, Novembers Doom, Hot Cross, Gilby Clarke of Supernova (oh yeah, and Guns And Roses...), Heaven Shall Burn, Anberlin, Detonation, The Almost, Megadeth's Gigantour and charity softball game, Otep, Slipknot, Poison The Well, Unholy, Sevendust, The Human Abstract, Tyr, Chimaira, Emmure, Kiss, Fairyland, In This Moment, Opiate For The Masses, Thy Will Be Done, metalheads talk about other discs that are kicking their asses, the Bridge Nine and Deathwish labels, rock and metal and the New Orleans Recovery and of course TONS of record reviews.
And as if that weren't enough, included is a cd with new and unreleased tracks from As Blood Runs Black, Chimaira, xDEATHSTARx, Six Feet Under, With Passion and more.
Maybe a tad heavy on the nu-metal, but there's always some cool stuff...
And only five bucks!
Along with the sudden miraculous appearance of their nigh-impossible to find 1998 album "Amplifier Worship" in our racks (see elsewhere on this list) we've also managed to acquire a few copies of some other hard-to-find Boris titles, including this
RealAudio clip: "The Decision of a Dream Which Will Never Be Completely Red" [/audio/hainoborisdecision.rm]
LIMITED TO 300 COPIES!!
We have yet to be disappointed by the restrained, doomic ambience that Half Makeshift (aka Nathan Michael) provides. More atmospheric than absolutely heavy (most of the time), Half Makeshift makes chilling chill out albums for the SUNNO))) scene. This new one is called Omen and it is indeed quite... ominous. It lets you get about 8 minutes into the first track before the crashing waves of distortion kick in. Even then, despite the volume, it still seems somehow hushed. And before the track is over, it retreats again into a melodic, melancholic realm of looping loveliness for guitar; spare and spacious and unhurried. Elsewhere on this album that pattern repeats itself, this moody work having a stretched-out set of dynamics like a somnolent post-rock band... it's quietly droning much of the time, adorned with plaintive piano and guitar, building a seductive sense of despair, that occasionally reaches level of cathartic release when Half Makeshift so subtly cranks it up and gets heavy. Loops and backwards effects and digital glitch figure into the mix throughout, but no vocals. Omen has a baleful prettiness to it that could appeal to fans of recent Earth, KTL, Fear Falls Burning, Nadja, Fun Years, and Oren Ambarchi amongst others.
And this time Half Makeshift makes its home on the Profound Lore label, who, not unlike the likes of Southern Lord, 20 Buck Spin, and often tUMULt, teeters on various edges of the metal/doom/drone/blackened/experimental zone, with releases from the likes of Alcest, Atavist, Nadja, Wold, and (reviewed last list) Krallice.
Billed as "the return of the Metal God" and I guess so, at least it's Rob's best record since "Painkiller", his last album as the voice of Judas Priest (not that this is anywhere as good as that over-the-top masterpiece!!). Nothing new here, just updated Priest-style rockin', but that's the idea, after his godawful NIN-inspired "Two" project and the mediocre Pantera-wanna-be Fight albums. Heavy, catchy, dumb metal with Halford's trademark pipes in full effect. He's trying hard to regain his former glory, complete with leather, shades, and motorcycle, but he needs your help. Not terrible.
Hallow is a group of blackened noisemakers loosely related to blacknoise merchants Ancestors (whose new ep is reviewed elsewhere on this list) and their debut double lp is in fact the soundtrack to an art show by Hallow mainman (only man?) Mark McCoy, who is also the mainman of Ancestors, which means the two are probably more than loosely related. Fuck. Who are we kidding, Hallow sound like a meaner, less black metal, more fucked up hardcore Ancestors, and anyone, and we mean ANYone who loves those Ancestors records, absolutely needs this too.
In addition to fronting these to monstrous metallic behemoths, McCoy also creates some super intense artwork, strange assemblages of ruined buildings, of crumbling riggings, collapsing structures suspended in space, intricate to the point of being the work of a madman, these drawings are captivating, incredible, precise and ultra detailed, and in their own way, they are imbued with some sort of fucked up energy, they seem, sad, they seem violent, abandoned, lonely, possessed, EVIL even. And thus, McCoy created Hallow, who recorded a series of songs, of soundtracks, each to accompany one of his pieces. Included is a booklet, oversized, featuring the various drawings, it's up to the listener to determine which song, accompanies which drawing. But again, it hardly matters, on their own, the images are breathtaking, and the music, even minus the art, Hallow create a serious racket.
The A side plays out like an Ancestors records, a bunch of short sharp tracks, furious frenetic post hardcore black metal buzz and pound and blast, super harsh, hellish, hateful, awesomely buzzy riffs, wildly blasting beats, walls of feedback wrapped around lurching anti-grooves, the songs stuttering and lumbering and exploding into jagged freakouts before locking back into some churning rhythm or white hot blast.
The B side is split into two longer tracks, sonically similar to the A side in some ways, but a whole different beast in others, the first a noisy depressive dirge, epic and spacious, definitely doomy, the guitars heavily distorted and processed, effects all over the place, the vocals insane and harsh and noisy draped over the sheets of buzz and blur and the spaced out plod below. While the second track is similarly plodding and depressive, the sound is even more blown out, the guitars blindingly effulgent, all of the sounds on the verge of total collapse, but at the same time strangely melodic and epic.
The second record is split into two sidelong tracks, and for some reason we can only think they accompany the images on the front and back cover. The first is a thick corrosive noisescape equal parts Wolf Eyes and Blue Sabbath Black Cheer, caustic and abject, tangled strands of feedback wound around thick heaving slabs of distorted low end, all melted down into something thick and black and viscous. The flipside is super abstract, all high end, chittering, chirping, stuttering, squeaking shards of upper register squelch and glitch, Morse code beeps, chirping crickets, wheezing creaks, a hauntingly melodic field of fragmented skree, chaotic and abrasive, but also textural and abstract and actually sort of beautiful.
LIMITED TO 300 COPIES!! Gorgeous packaging, striking McCoy drawings on the front and back, pressed on thick vinyl, inside a thick oversized booklet featuring all of McCoy's drawings and some practically unreadable liner notes.
With a name like Hallowed Butchery, we had a good idea of what was in store. Then we saw the cover art, not necessarily metal looking if you weren't expecting such, and the touching dedication of Funeral Rites For The Living to HB overlord Ryan Fairfield's wife and daughter. That seemed to soften up our expectations. Then we actually listened to Hallowed Butchery. And, um, yeah, this is some filthy as fuck, abject, miserable, doom-laden metal, blackened for sure but not "black metal" per se, and however you want to define it, just plain VILE! The sounds are so insanely heavy that it's like things are going to be pulled into a black hole where they will remain swirling about in perpetual negativity. The vocals are a harsh, guttural gurgle, scary and forceful but buried in the mix as another layer of sound, sometimes sounding a bit like a guy getting ready to puke up his innards. At the same time, there are many moments on here that are just plain beautiful, especially when Fairfield strums out some dolorous tunes on his acoustic guitar. The sadness on display is no doubt genuine, and the lyrics follow a path of hopelessness and despair. Reading them alongside the aforementioned dedication, as well as the heartfelt thank you list, makes it clear that Fairfield is someone with a realistic view on the woes of this world, which is always a cool thing in a scene where everyone is trying to put on some phony air of being "evil". Fuck that. This stuff also has a pronounced industrial vibe, offering a sonic beatdown that will surely appeal to fans of groups like Gnaw Their Tongues, Human Quena Orchestra, and Nekrasov. The super dense, crushing doomscapes conjure up some post-industrial meltdown, and the electronic ambience gives things a very disconcerting feeling, sometimes sounding a bit like some of Current 93's more recent work actually. Then, after getting your ass handed to you on a platter, Fairfield brings things down a notch with a GORGEOUS cover of Neil Young's "After The Gold Rush," so SO awesome, not to mention pretty much completely unexpected. Things are pretty straightforward, at least until it becomes the first doom metal Neil Young cover that we know of. Suppose we shouldn't be surprised at this point, but one man projects like this always get us; how could one dude be responsible for such a thick slab of concentrated negativity? Dunno, but this is definitely hitting the spot.
This is some serious grim and brutal business, this here new Halo record. So slow, and chaotic, and sludgy and crushing. With feedback spraying wildly from beneath the hyper-dense black hole riffs, tortured vocals, clawing their way up in the mix, fingers bleeding and bruised, a bass sound that is like puncturing your skull and filling it with concrete, and drums that sound like John Bonham trying to beat his way out of a tar pit. Think Godflesh, Swans, Skepticism, but then slow it down, drug it, down tune it, and get the fuck out of the way. This is doom metal played by crusty punks, industrial music played by Eyehategod, the Butthole Surfers covering Earth. The almost industrial precision of their first record has eroded just enough to let the band sort of sprawl, and throb, the sound is psychedelic, but not in the traditional sense, this is dark and druggy and hypnotic, and lulls you to sleep as much as it makes you want to overturn cop cars and set them on fire.
We hadn't heard from Aussie industrial crushers Halo in ages, so this lp was definitely a pleasant surprise, a long overdue reissue of an out of print cd-r. Halo released two of our favorite records, both on Relapse, both punishing and epic, downtuned and fierce as fuck, but also atmospheric and haunting, their sound somewhere between Swans, Godflesh, early Earth, Neurosis, Eyehategod, diSEMBOWELMENT, Gore, Cop Shoot Cop and Whitehouse, thick low slung bass buzz, pounding pummeling drum crush, as well as various electronics and tape loops, the duo whipping up a sound that sounded like it came from a much bigger beast.
Degree Point Of Zero Implosion was originally released way back in 2000, and finds the band sounding super raw, but with a sound already fully formed, a sort of abstract doom sludge drone industrial, the drums pounding out simple monstrous earth shaking plods, the buzzing strings not so much producing riffs, as seismic waves, thick swells of rumble and thrum, the sound shifting from spaced out minimal drift to full on corrosive howling crush, the sound fleshed out by all manner of electronics and samples, of textures and loops, the songs brooding and slow building, super ambient and atmospheric, creepy and ominous and sinister, the vocals usually buried way down in the mix, but sometimes howling over the band's lumbering din. Often clean, but just as often a guttural, heavily effected death metal style bellow, the songs wrapped in coruscating crumbling guitar drones, moaning, keening fractured melodies, sheets of hiss and howl, or super distorted, impossibly downtuned ultradoom chug. This shit is so dense and brutal and powerful and heavy and epic, anyone into the current crop of slow and low heavies (Khanate, Moss, Bunkur, Monarch, Habsyll, Atavist, The Body, Otesanek, Human Quena Orchestra, Salome, Orthodox, Nihill, etc.) who hasn't checked out Halo, you have been missing out BIG TIME.
LIMITED TO 300 COPIES!!
Halo are easily one of the heaviest, creepiest, most intense bands we have heard in a long time. This Australian two piece (bass and drums, voice and electronics) spit out such a massive sound it's hard to get your head around. Lurching, pummelling, sludgy, slow-motion doom versus squealing, speaker shredding, super distorted power electronics. Think Godflesh and Neurosis and Earth and Whitehouse and Cop Shoot Cop, and Gore and Noisegate and the Melvins, with the treble turned to zero, the bass turned to ten, and about 1000 extra amps, turned on, buzzing and squealing and rumbling, as Halo channel all of this unbridled energy into huge molten riffs that stretch out into near ambient dirges. Static, hum and hiss swarm wildly in and out of the mix, and occasionally everything drops out until all that's left is blurry static ambience and stray rattles and rumbles, until the two-headed beast struggles free and lurches madly forward again. Fucking amazing.
Second record from these mysterious medieval liturgical soundscapers, who at one time were members of the awesomely avant black metal horde Emit. As we mentioned in the review of the first Emit record, that band was only tangentially 'black metal', choosing instead to take black metal elements and weave them into something more ritualistic and abstract. Well, Hammemit is the logical extension, ejecting all the black metal elements, minus some ominous black ambience, focusing more on mood and texture, creating a song suite that sounds like a collection of ancient hymns, the sounds of haunted cathedrals, the crumbling spires and broken stained glass, still imbued with the spirits and souls that had passed through before.
It's not hard to imagine wandering through some ruined stone church, at dusk, the moon bringing the shadows to life, the splintered pews in small bonfire ready piles, pages from hymnals scattered like dead leaves, when suddenly strange sounds come wafting down from the choir, shards of detuned guitar, deep rumbling drones, monk like chants, the occasional raspy whisper, warm whirling off kilter chordal whirs, washed out reverb drenched drifts of buzzing steel strings and moaned ghostlike voices, soft flutters of out of tune piano tumbling over soft crystalline shimmers, dark heaving slabs of ominous buzz, shot through with growled vocals and more spidery detuned warble and thick swirls of church organ. Gorgeous and ancient and haunting and mystical. Mood music for ruin'd cathedrals, a soundtrack for midnite pagan rituals, or as the legend on the cd sleeve reads: "Mediaeval Music For Modern Sensibilites"!
Emit were never really a proper black metal band, so much so that it often seemed quite curious that they were so embraced by that scene, when there sound was something much more abstract and ambient, ritualistic and distinctly not heavy, at least in the traditional sense. This UK horde trafficked in a sort of abstract ambient doom, there were riffs, to be certain, but they were not strung together into long buzzing progressions, instead they were banged out one at a time, often left to decay and sprawl into shimmering black ripples, and just as often there were no riffs at all, instead opting for some effects drenched dubbed out free blackness. Once in a while, the sounds and atmospheres would coalesce into something definitely black metal, but even then, the blast beats and buzzing riffs were stumbly and chaotic and doused in reverb and sent lurching though heaving seas of crunch and crumble, everything moaning and creaking and squealing and seeming to gradually implode. Emit were indeed one of a kind, and it's unclear what exactly caused them to hang it up, but a few of those Emitters went on to create this entity right here, now called Hammemit, a somewhat logical extension of Emit's more abstract ritualistic side, forgoing riffs and metal and buzz almost completely, opting instead for something much more primitive and minimal, haunting and spiritual.
Spires Over The Burial Womb unveils a mysterious black form of liturgical music, drawing heavily on traditional religious musics throughout the ages, wheezing church organs, chanted monklike vocals, choral voices, lots of echo and reverb as if these pieces were indeed performed in some sort of temple or church, some of the songs thick and swirling, dense and intense, others spare and spidery, with simple spidery melodies hovering in wide open expanses of shimmering reverb and deep cavernous echo. All of the sounds here are dark, haunting, creepy, mysterious, deep distant drones twist and turn like monstrous black shapes hidden in the shadows, the voices chant and invocate, offering up prayer perhaps to some other gods, the voices and the drones beneath inexorably interwoven. There is guitar, but it's often detuned, fractured, effected, smeared and blurred into another layer of creeping blackness. The most traditionally musical movements, sound a bit like Skepticism, but with all the distortion stripped away, the drums removed, slowed way down, and performed in some massive stone cathedral, every note slathered in natural reverb and dusty delay, allowed to drift ethereally until the next note emerges to follow along in it's ghostly black wake. While the rest of the tracks play out like ancient masses conducted by reanimated specters risen from the grave, primitive rituals performed in the black of night, in the dead of winter, in a church full of empty pews, with broken stained glass windows, and drifts of snow moving like a white sea across the cut stone floor, a swirling white abyss that swallows the black sounds drifting above.
A truly beautiful and haunting collection of blackened rites and rituals and mysterious nokturnal sonic ceremonies.
The Swedish cheese-metallers who've led the recent worldwide "comeback" of so-called "power metal", come back themselves with a third album, this time with big-time '80s metal producer Michael Wagener (it was recorded in the USA for goshsakes!). Nothing new really, if you liked their other albums you'll like this, and if you didn't, you won't. One thumb up (Andee), one thumb down (Allan).
Ripping heavy metal infused with ornate Queen-like pop smarts, in support of lyrical concerns that 99 percenters could rally around? Hmm, that could only be the new album from San Francisco's Hammers Of Misfortune! It's interesting to think, that 17th Street might be the very first record by these guys (and gals) that lots of people will be exposed to, on account of 'em now being on a "big" label, the venerable Metal Blade, who besides putting out this new record, also reissued Hammers entire back catalog last year. What will those newbies make of it, a bold, brash, bombastic, very very "musical", progged-out opus that's part power metal, part pop, part political commentary??
However, most folks reading this are probably already familiar with Hammers, perhaps possessors of the preceding four entries in their discography (or 5 or maybe even 6, actually, depending on how you count 2008's double album Fields/Church Of Broken Glass, as well as the archival release of their early material recorded under the name Unholy Cadaver). So this review is mostly directed those Hammers fans, AQ customers who have been following 'em over the years like we have, and are aware of all the various the lineup changes, and stylistic shifts (raspy black metal influences out, '70s Hammond organ driven prog in) that have become part of the Hammers saga. (If you are a newbie, we suggest you get The Bastard first, then check out their others.)
But, while 2001's The Bastard remains our favorite HoM release (heck, Andee here originally put it out on his label tUMULt, right?), we are definitely finding a lot to like about what Hammers have turned into ten years on. They remain a brilliant band, if an indulgent one - but then that's one of the perks of prog, isn't it?
As Hammers fans have come to expect, this is chock full of intricate, incredible guitarwork. Lots of vintage sounding Hammond organ in there as well, those ivories tinkled by a classically trained pianist, juxtaposed with technical thrash velocities. And soaring, quasi-operatic vocals of course, too... speaking of which, that's one of the most significant aspects to mention about this new album, that among the lineup changes since the last one, they have a new male vocalist who might finally fill the void left by the departure of Slough Feg's Mike Scalzi after 2006's The Locust Years. New frontman Joe Hutton is a more than capable singer, in fact he's quite good, and while he doesn't sound exactly like Scalzi, there's a quality to his voice that old fans who miss Scalzi in the band will appreciate.
He's not their new 2nd guitar player though, that'd be Leila Abdul-Rauf, formerly of blackened death metallers Saros, also of Vastum - who in addition to being a shredder who can hold her own playing those harmonies with Hammers founder John Cobbett, turns out to have a nice "clean" singing voice (she did the cookie monster thing in Saros!), filling the female 'diva' role now in Hammers - though these new songs, with Hutton up front, definitely place more emphasis on the male vocal part, a good thing we think. And he's certainly given some infectiously melodic material to wrap his pipes around, as it were.
We're probably notorious for finding buried 'poppiness' in all sorts of not very overtly poppy music, but don't think we'll get much argument here when we say that while Hammers have always been melodic, this is definitely their poppiest outing yet. To the point that we can almost imagine 'em being played on the radio, and could even kinda compare some of this to the likes of, uh, Journey, at times. Ferinstance, "The Grain", the album's first "single" (or at least, leaked YouTube track), is something that WILL definitely get stuck in your head, the chorus catchier than a really catchy thing, though it's over 7 minutes long, so forget the radio idea... Elsewhere on this album, Queen (and the many-layered guitars of Brian May) are a good comparison. You'll hear that on the heartwrenching piano ballad "Summer Tears", a moody one... Going beyond Queen, the sprightly likes of "The Day The City Died" gets almost into Sparks territory, even! Lest that not sound very "metal", don't worry, the frantic charge of "Romance Valley" amongst other stormers here should be enough to demonstrate that 17th Street is totally deserving of having the old school bloody axe Metal Blade logo emblazoned on its sleeve.
Conceptually (and being Hammers, you know there's concepts!), well, all their other albums came out during the heinous reign of George W. Bush. Now the class warfare is more the focus than the so-called War On Terror. And guess what? This is thus the first, and doubtless only, protest prog-metal album aligned with the Occupy Wall Street movement (Occupy 17th Street!?). One of the songs, "Staring (The 31st Floor)", is about the collapse of Lehman Brothers, for gosh sake.
With the demise of Ludicra, Hammers are now lead guitarist and main songwriter John Cobbett's only going concern. And there was a lot of pressure on, but we think Cobbett & Co. rose to the occasion. Though it's hard to gauge what other folks will think of this, as no other bands really sound anything like Hammers do these days.
Available on both cd (digipack) or deluxe double gatefold vinyl, 180 gram, 45rpm for maximum fidelity!! The vinyl version features an extra 7 minute track, "Salt", right in the middle of the first side. And furthermore, the mastering job on the vinyl is said (by the band) to sound better, though we haven't yet made that determination ourselves.
First, there was The Bastard. The ultimate over the top power metal/black metal rock opera, as far as we're concerned. Ok, so Andee here at AQ put it out on his tUMULt label... but that simply proves that he/we really like it (not that that's WHY we like it). Still Hammers' best, wethink. But their follow up The August Engine was pretty killer too. And the same with their third album Locust Years, which we hailed as the first ever fantasy metal album that was also a contemporary political allegory (about Bush and the Iraq War). With that record, Hammers settled with regal grace into a new phase, with the significant addition of '70s styled Hammond organ, taking their prog leanings to ever proggier heights, the raspy black metal aspects of their sound discarded long ago. And this new release from the acclaimed San Francisco metallers is definitely a continuation of that, despite some major lineup changes in the Hammers camp since Locust Years came out in 2006.
Of course, mainman guitarist John Cobbett (Ludicra, ex-Slough Feg) is still the with the band. Also drummer Chewy Marzolo, and keyboardist Sigrid Sheie. But now there's a new set of singers. Hammers, as you may know, have always flaunted operatic/theatrical, male and female vocals, intertwining in their compositions. There's been a few different female singers (who also played bass) over the years, but the clean male vocals until now had been handled solely by Mike Scalzi of Slough Feg, who has a distinctive voice to say the least. Taking over the female role is Jesse Quattro, a trained singer who definitely holds her own in the tradition of Hammers' female vocalists. You won't notice much difference there, though she may well be the best they've had. She doesn't play bass, however, so they've got Ron Nichols in to handle that task. More difficult, perhaps, for Hammers, was replacing Scalzi, who left to concentrate entirely on Slough Feg. Patrick Goodwin (of Dirty Power and Pansy Division) stepped up into Scalzi's shoes and while his voice is definitely different, not having the weird presence or booming depth Scalzi's, he's a capable melodic singer, yearning and emotive, and maybe his less idiosyncratic style fits better with Hammers' current direction. Long time fans will definitely notice a difference, though, and some will roll with it, some won't. Certainly the Hammers of The Bastard aren't the Hammers here.
So, now Hammers Of Misfortune obviously have a lot to prove on this new album - or, actually, albums. That's right, as if to really rise to the occasion and make a statement, they've released a double album, or what they'd have us believe is two separate albums, Fields and Church Of Broken Glass, packaged together. Each one gets its own cover art, you flip the gatefold digipack over to see each one, in the style of an old Ace Double paperback (the cover shown here is that of Fields). Though we were a bit bemused to discover that since the seven cuts on Fields clock in at just over 37 minutes, and the five songs on CoBG total about 35, it actually would have been possible to fit 'em both on a single disc! At least Profound Lore isn't making you pay any extra for this two-cd concept. And, since HoM's music can be so exhaustively epic, full of complex arrangements and keyboard busy-ness and cryptic lyrics, it's actually easier on the listener to have two shorter cds to digest than one exceedingly lengthy one, really!
As well, each disc has its own theme, a rural/urban dichotomy between Fields and Church Of Broken Glass. The best example of the latter being the moody 10 minute epic "Butchertown", painting this very city's streets in sinister fairytale shades. (Urban decay, blight and fright being territory previously explored by Cobbett's black metal outfit Ludicra, as well.) If we know Cobbett, there's probably a clever narrative or allegory at play here, encompassing both discs, leading from song to song and one disc to the next, but Hammers lyrics are poetically vague enough that we haven't puzzled it all out yet exactly. You could look at their recent interview on the Pitchfork website for more insight if you wish. We again get a political vibe from some of this, and do have the idea that Fields starts off about the plight of peasant farmers in Afghanistan, beginning with the three-part, 16-minute suite of "Agriculture", "Fields", and "Motorcade". See what you make of these lines, from the latter: "Escorting friendlies, a walk in the park/Unlock the cages as soon as it's dark/Motorcade motorcade easy to mark/Send in the snipers to swim with the sharks/Breadline is burning, the headcount's a joke/Soon they'll be feasting on mirrors and smoke/Motorcade motorcade horses to show/Fish in a barrel and ducks in a row". Hmm. And Hammers manages to turn that into singalong catchiness!
Fortunately, even with the ambitious scale of this latest project, and all the new members in the band, fans will find that Hammers hasn't changed too much, still full of blazing guitar solos and stop on a dime dynamics, memorable riffs and melodies and exquisite harmonies, musical theater moments and multilayered vocals - all the over the top-ness we love about 'em. Perhaps though the progginess has gotten even proggier, more flowery... We're reminded of Kansas, actually! Well, Kansas mixed with Megadeth, maybe. With a healthy helping of that rollicking, Deep Purplish Hammond organ first introduced on previous opus the Locust Years, as we said. And if you're into 'em for the female vocals, you won't be disappointed at all.
So, what should be Hammers' sales slogan for this album - New and Improved? Well, no, we can't quite go there, what with our feelings about the The Bastard. Well, how about Two For The Price Of One! Sure. And how about Thinking Man's (and Woman's) Metal? Definitely. But we get the idea that slogans and soundbites and all those mass media manipulative aspects of modern commercial culture are exactly what Hammers Of Misfortune stands against, so we'll just leave it with, well worth checking out.
Oh, and Hammers fans of the vinyl-buying persuasion, please note that this is also going to be coming out on lp (several of them of course), via the 20 Buck Spin label...
Ready for some harmonies and heaviness? Pure, prog-tastic METAL for the long, dark winter? We know you are, 'cause it's been a long while. But now, it's here. The Hammers come down for the second time with this long-awaited new album, the follow-up to their acclaimed (and already out-of-print, for now) debut The Bastard released on our own Andee's tUMUlt label back in 2001. Whereas The Bastard was a full-on rock opera, The August Engine only *sounds* like a rock opera, it isn't actually one. There's no narrative, unifying concept to the songs this time, which puts HoM's eclectic metal mixture in danger of losing focus, being too unpredictably psychedelic and epic for their own good. Wait, what are we saying? That's no problem! As diverse as their songwriting and sonic palette can be, everything here sounds like Hammers and nothing else (well, except Slough Feg), which can only be the mark of a brilliant band.
Bursting out of the gates with an adrenalized instrumental opener that thrashes like Megadeth while remaining as gloriously 'classical' and over the top as anything on The Bastard, we can't say The August Engine never lets up. It does, but only in the sense that some decidedly unusual, and sometimes mellow avenues are explored. But for every non-metallic moment of sweet singing and pleasant acoustic guitars, you get plenty of shredding electric ones, with pounding drums, dramatic male and female vocals on a grand scale, and headbanging riffage. Advanced metal mastery here folks. Pretentious? Indulgent? Arrogant? No, simply mighty. The 10-out-of-10 review this album has already garnered from veteran metal scribe Martin Popoff likened them to a psychedelic version of the best of Iron Maiden, who are we to argue?
Hammers still consist of John and Mike from The Lord Weird Slough Feg, plus drummer Chewy. On this recording, Janis Tanaka plays bass and sings like an angel, though when you go see Hammers live now, they have a new lineup including not only a foxy new bassist/singer but another female vocalist who plays Hammond organ as well!
The vinyl (on tUMULt) has different cover artwork than, but the same tracks as, the compact disc version, released in a black-and-silver digipak edition by upstart Italian metal label Cruz Del Sur. Both sport cool Voivod-ish liner art by mastermind John Cobbett himself. Of course, recommended.
Our own Andee proves himself, and his tUMULt label, to be truly dedicated to the Heaviest of Metal with this new release! Following on from prior tUMULt metal-oriented releases (the grim and trancelike black metal genius of Weakling, the blackened
Formerly known as Unholy Cadaver, Hammers of Misfortune is the demented brainchild of local metal master John Cobbett, who also plays guitar in the cult SF "celtic epic metal" outfit The Lord Weird Slough Feg. Mike from Slough Feg is also in Hammers, playing guitar and providing the "clean" male vox. And we must mention the contribution of Janis Tanaka (ex-Stone Fox) on bass and the exellent female vocals. "The Bastard" comes across like a mixture of Cradle of Filth and Blind Guardian, or Slough Feg and Opeth, or Satyricon and Mercyful Fate: it's that eclectic, that classic, that amazing.
People have been waiting a long time for this, the third opus from SF's own Hammers Of Misfortune, one of the most ambitious, audacious, bodacious, bombastic, maybe even slightly ludicrous bands in the metal realm...and metal this is, through and through, even as it pushes the envelope right over the edge into, I don't know, musical theater... 2003's The August Engine was pretty amazing, as was (our favorite) their year 2000 debut, The Bastard (released by Andee's tUMULt label we should note). The Locust Years has a lot to live up to.
And live it up they do here. Just check out the band photos for evidence of that (funnier if you know these folks). There's a shocking formal portrait on the back cover, everybody dressed up in tuxedos and evening gowns, hair pulled back. And then inside the cd booklet, you see 'em letting their hair down in a glammy, rock n' roll fantasy shot. It's nice to see that they don't take themselves too seriously, that should keep people guessing about this band. Not so pretentious as some might think, joking but no joke.
Quick intro first for those just tuning in/turning on to this band: Hammers is a rock-operatic heavy metal juggernaut with harmonizing lead guitars, pounding Hammond organ (new!), and majestic male and female vocal lines. The band features members of The Lord Weird Slough Feg past and present, and mainman John Cobbett is busy too with his other band black metallers Ludicra (new ep elsewhere on this list) plus he's been playing with the likes of Amber Asylum and even Jarboe of late... As you might imagine from all of this, Hammers is an especially eclectic mix of '70s prog, '80s metal, black metal (without the black metal vocals), classical music, avant-chamber-rock, Mary Poppinsy musical showtuneage, Opethian loud/soft, fast/slow dynamics...
Basically, everything (and more) that already earned mucho plaudits for the Hammers' first two albums is present here: the sweeping melodic grandeur, metallic excitement, complex arrangements, virtuoso playing, intelligent lyrics, many moods, and attention to idiosyncratic detail -- which is evident from the packaging, with its Thomas Woodruff cover painting and aforementioned photography, to the music, for instance the track "War Anthem" that features a whole hired drum line arranged by Hammers drummer Chewy. Or it's actually Chewy multitracking his own one man drum line. Either way, it's pretty darn Tusk!!
And lyrically, while it's not a storytelling narrative like The Bastard, it's somewhat more of a cohesive "concept album" than was August Engine... the concept being, near as we can tell, a very allegorical, cryptic protest against the awful person and policies of our president, George W. Bush!! Or at least that's what we get from lyrics like "Death - death to the infidels / sons of our servants shall serve and serve us well / and gifted with endless war / flags and fanatics forevermore" (from "War Anthem") or, "If people wonder at the suffering you cause / and your massive avarice has left them at a loss / if by chance they notice your bloody, snapping jaws / the blood upon your claws / your shifty eyes and laws / the nauseating flaws in all you've said / trot out the dead" (from "Trot Out The Dead") -- no that's not Satan they're singing about, not exactly. We're pretty sure that makes The Locust Years the world's first POLITICAL epic fantasy prog power metal album!!
Recommended of course.
Another release on the awesome Starlight Temple Society (which while now sadly defunct, seems to have mutated into Khrysanthoney, home to recent aQ faves Clair Cassis and Necktarium), this one from a mysterious European duo, whose sound is inspired by, according to the band themselves, Low, Labradford, Earth, Burzum, Skepticism, Nortt and Trollmann Av Ildtoppberg. But imagine those influences channeled into something more medieval sounding, and WAY more post rocky, a sort of droning medieval slowcore laid beneath softly buzzing metallic rumble and shimmer, and you'll get an idea of Hamnskifte's sound.
The opening track is the perfect example, the core sound, a simple minor key guitar jangle, the drums sparse and spare, the rhythm slow and stately, all beneath a gauzy layer of slo-mo glacial riffage, that sort of Earth/SUNNO))) black buzz, smeared and blurred into something much more washed out and ethereal, while beneath, the band introduce other bits of buzz and drone, what sound like accordions or harmoniums, a gorgeously smoldering blackened slowcore, meditative and hypnotic.
The next track is even more blissed out. The metal/buzz element relegated to a more minimal bit of pulsing droniness, beneath the gorgeously skeletal arrangement, the guitars crystalline and shimmery, it's not hard to imagine this being on a label like Temporary Residence, reminding us a bit of a more minimal instrumental Pinback, or even Temporary Residence unsungs Lumen.
The rest of the record unfolds similarly, the sounds laid back and languorous, a darkened slowcore/postrock hybrid, that seems to be only slightly blackened, and instead, shuffles and meanders, the sound hypnotic and mesmerizing, the arrangements simple and cyclical, droney and dreamy and surprisingly poppy.
Odds are this might get overlooked by the folks who would dig it most, considering the label, and the other way blacker and heavier bands on the label, but anyone into dark, droney minimal, brooding and beautiful slow motion post rock, this will definitely hit the spot.
LIMITED TO 125 COPIES. Packaged in an oversized silver metallic envelope, with an 8 page booklet, a pull out poster, and recorded onto gold cd-r.
We're always up for some twisted black metal. The more twisted the better. The more fucked up and damaged the better. So on first listen this disc from Hamsoken pretty much hit the spot, beginning with some crumbling sci-fi synths, some growled demonic vox, weird throbbing Goblin like bass, all sprawling bleak industrial blackened synthscape, before lurching into some full on filthy raw blackened pound, all buzzy guitars, and buried vokills, twisted melodic leads, atonal and angular, but then a track later, the fidelity is cranked up a notch, and the band erupt in a frenzy of blasting tremolo guitared black buzz, gnarled and furious and blurry and washed out and so goddamn good.
We were so lost in Hamsoken's buzzy blasting blur that it took us a while before we even realized Hamsoken was in fact Nick Forte, who some of you might remember from hardcore legends Rorschach!! (Who reunited for a few East Coast tours recently, and if all goes well, just might make it out West!).
Even on repeated listens, we don't necessarily hear any Rorschach in the sound of Hamsoken, but like much of our favorite black metal, the fact that Forte is approaching BM from a whole different background, brings so much new to the table, the synths all over the place, the tracks that seem to crumble into slow crawls, the lurching almost SST vibe of some of the guitar parts, the vocals, going from murky garble to super distorted hissy howl, even at its blackest, the sound is weirdly melodic and hypnotic, doomy dirges give way to blazing blasts which in turn dissipate into slow blackened drifts. Unlike most black metal, the bass is huge, and melodic, way up in the mix, sometimes carrying the whole song, and those synths, makes everything sound all creepy and soundtracky and Goblin-y, the best moments are when the metal component is ditched completely in favor of some synth heavy crawl, all processed drum machine, moody moaning guitar melody, and those incredibly harsh vox, moody and melancholy and industrial and heavy, even when it's not heavy in the traditional sense. Those synth heavy tracks play out like some blackened coldwave band, a sound we had sort of been fantasizing about actually, a sort of black metal Cold Cave maybe, in fact, very little of the record is anywhere close to traditionally blasting black metal, those moments do exist, but tend to separate drastically different sonic environments, be they fuzzy and droney and spacey or murky and blown out and abstract, or punky and thrashing and pounding (like a couple tracks, the only real nods to Forte's punk past).
Definitely for folks into the strains of black metal that tend toward the avant, the drone-y, the gloomy, the fucked up, and especially the weird and melodic and new wave-y... wait, is there a strain like that? New wave-y and melodic and fucked up and industrial? Yeah, there is now.
In our review of the last Hanging Garden record, we described it as being the prettiest black metal record we've ever heard, and this latest one is more of the same. Ostensibly a depressive black metal combo (featuring aQ pal Morbid from Happy Days, another awesome depressive black metal outfit), their music is more like a gloomy melancholic pop, it's really just the vokills that cast it as black metal, delivered in a crazed falsetto shriek, which definitely adds a strange tension, and a degree of blackness, but strip the vocals away, and you'd be left with what is essentially some super melodic, gloom pop, all dirgey tempos, and fuzzy guitars, dreamy jangle and mournfully melancholic lead guitars, and of course there are plenty of samples too, intimate moments captured from various films, the music perfectly suited to the sad scenarios and heartbreak presented in those samples, the vocals anguished and dramatic, but so over the top they almost sound operatic, reminding us a bit of the more Ethel Merman-y vox in Urfaust.
But when we say pop, we mean serious pop, the songs are urgent and intense, with the guitar melodies evoking such emotion, hauntingly and miserably catchy, if the vocalist was singing in a deep dramatic baritone, it wouldn't be hard to imagine this as some sort of cold wave relic, albeit with buzzing guitars. And it's those vocals that will probably dissuade most dabblers, without them we'd be hyping this to everyone into M83 and other like minded eighties sad pop shoegazers, and heck maybe we still will, but for the black metallers out there that like their black metal melodic, and dangerously pretty, think Lifelover and Urfaust and Crooked Necks and Hypothermia but with a touch of Katatonia, and those crazed over the top vocals, then this will definitely do it for you. Needless to say, we love it, vocals and all, and we dream of a day when some modern Breakfast Club style teen drama will include songs like this, the perfect soundtrack for the breakup scene, when the couples are walking separately through the rain, thinking about what could have been...
This just might be the prettiest depressive black metal record you'll ever hear. Featuring Morbid from Happy Days on drums, this trio unfurls gorgeously melancholy soft focus landscapes of crystalline guitar chime, warm washed out distortion, simple skeletal drumming, everything super melodic and dreamy, the sound gauzy and blurred, the vocals the only thing that really make this truly black metal, without them, How Will You Live Your Life Today? would sound more like some shoegazey indie pop record, all shimmery and minor key, minimal and utterly poppy, loping, meandering, jangly softly buzzing doom pop, but the vocals, hysterically shrieking one second, growling raspily the next, definitely add some pathos to the prettiness, which is definitely the point. The band sing about love, and heartbreak, misery and abandonment, loneliness and breakups, and the music perfectly captures that feeling, the sort of hopefulness lurking behind every heartbreak, the sadness inherent in giving your heart away, thus the music is pretty and sweet and poppy, while the vocals are tortured and anguished. It's a strange combination, but after a few listens, it's hard to imagine the music without the vocals, the sweet without the sour, the light without the dark.
Should definitely appeal to folks who dig stuff like Lifelover, Toil, Hypothermia, and others who dare to infuse their black metal with jangle and hooks and heart.
I went on at great length last list about the late great Hanoi Rocks. So you know how much I love this band. Trashy, punky glam pop from Finland via the UK. An unholy mix of the NY Dolls, the Rolling Stones, Elvis Costello, and the Clash. They effortlessly
I never got to see Hanoi Rocks live, but playing live was their thing and on stage they were explosive and totally inspiring. This is their only proper live album (which is taken from the video of the same name) and features roughed up versions of all their hits as well as extended versions of 'Taxi Driver', 'Under My Wheels' (an Alice Cooper cover!) and 'Train Kept-A-Rollin'. Like all their other records, ESSENTIAL.
I'm beginning to feel like the guy at AQ that tries to convince you it's okay to like those bands that for some reason you are embarassed to like. But if that is my position, then so be it. We had a Hanoi Rocks greatest hits collection a while back, but
Hanoi Rocks, while inadvertently helping to spawn an entire generation of MTV glam rock, managed to create an amazing and varied body of work, from trashy garage stomps to perfect little pop songs. And even with a lot of high profile attention (their drummer was killed by Motley Crue's Vince Neil in a drunk driving accident, a hit with their cover of CCR's 'Up Around The Bend, having their entire catalog reissued on Guns and Roses' label at the height of G&R's popularity) they somehow managed to stay just enough underground to miss the superstardom they so deserved. Their sound was a mix of Stooges style garage rock, good old Beatle-esque pop, and a weird reggae/dub influence most obvious in their rhythm guitar parts and dubby drum lines (like the Clash, who supplied Hanoi Rocks with their replacement bass player when Sam Yaffa moved to America to play in Jetboy). But the bottom line is always the songs, and the songs are catchy as fuck. Trust me, Hanoi Rocks are so good -- don't be swayed by their tenuous connection to the eighties hair bands (even though singer Mike Monroe was way hotter than any of his glam rock contemporaries). And mark my words, I will have Allan singing their praises in no time, even if it kills me, or him.
This is Hanoi Rocks' third and maybe best record and things get decidedly weirder, with the bizarre (and aptly titled) intro 'Strange Boys Play Weird Openings', the rollicking and insane 'Mental Beat', the stumbling chaos of 'Tooting Bec Wreck', the ultra catchy Stooges-like 'Back To Mystery City' and just a non stop barrage of fucking great songs: 'Malibu Beach Nightmare', 'Until I Get You', 'Lick Summer Love', 'Sailing Down The Tears' and more.
I'm beginning to feel like the guy at AQ that tries to convince you it's okay to like those bands that for some reason you are embarassed to like. But if that is my position, then so be it. We had a Hanoi Rocks greatest hits collection a while back, but
Hanoi Rocks, while inadvertently helping to spawn an entire generation of MTV glam rock, managed to create an amazing and varied body of work, from trashy garage stomps to perfect little pop songs. And even with a lot of high profile attention (their drummer was killed by Motley Crue's Vince Neil in a drunk driving accident, a hit with their cover of CCR's 'Up Around The Bend, having their entire catalog reissued on Guns and Roses' label at the height of G&R's popularity) they somehow managed to stay just enough underground to miss the superstardom they so deserved. Their sound was a mix of Stooges style garage rock, good old Beatle-esque pop, and a weird reggae/dub influence most obvious in their rhythm guitar parts and dubby drum lines (like the Clash, who supplied Hanoi Rocks with their replacement bass player when Sam Yaffa moved to America to play in Jetboy). But the bottom line is always the songs, and the songs are catchy as fuck. Trust me, Hanoi Rocks are so good, don't be swayed by their tenuous connection to the eighties hair bands (even though singer Mike Monroe was way hotter than any of his glam rock contemporaries). And mark my words, I will have Allan singing their praises in no time, even if it kills me, or him. These reissues are remastered, have tons of photos and really great and extensive liner notes.
'Bangkok Shocks' was Hanoi Rocks debut and starts off with possibly two of their best songs, 'Tragedy', all chunky guitars and falsetto backup vocals, and 'Village Girl', probably my favorite Hanoi Rocks songs. A perfect pop song, ultra catchy chorus, unforgettable riff, and a weird dubby rhythm.
"File under Sleaze/Junk." If you buy this you will make a very sad man very very happy. This purports to be a collection of "The Best of" Hanoi Rocks--but it's only 2 cds? How's that possible...?
Now that Allan is finished (for now) being a sarcastic bastard, i will once again defend one of my all time favorite bands.
Hanoi Rocks, while inadvertently helping to spawn an entire generation of MTV glam rock, managed to create an amazing and varied body of work, from trashy garage stomps to perfect little pop songs. And even with a lot of high profile attention (their drummer was killed by Motley Crue's Vince Neil in a drunk driving accident, a hit with their cover of CCR's 'Up Around The Bend, having their entire catalog reissued on Guns and Roses' label at the height of G&R's popularity) they somehow managed to stay just enough underground to miss the superstardom they so deserved. Their sound was a mix of Stooges style garage rock, good old Beatle-esque pop, and a weird reggae/dub influence most obvious in their rhythm guitar parts and dubby drum lines (like the Clash, who supplied Hanoi Rocks with their replacement bass player when Sam Yaffa moved to America to play in Jetboy). But the bottom line is always the songs, and the songs here are catchy as fuck, from the mournful piano driven 'Dead by Christmas', to the rollicking 'Problem Child', to the impossibly catchy 'Village Girl'. Trust me, this is so good, don't be swayed by their tenuous connection to the eighties hair bands. Although singer Mike Monroe was way hotter than any of his contemporaries. And mark my words, I will have Allan singing their praises in no time, even if it kills me, or him.
'Lean On Me' is a singles /rarities collection that was originally released in 1992 (shortly after the death of Razzle, and after an aborted attempt at Hanoi Rocks mk. 2 with the Clash's Terry Chimes failing to fill Razzle's shoes).
This one's mostly for the Hanoi completists, seeing as half the tracks are previously released. But it's awfully exciting to finally hear 7 unearthed, unreleased rarities, some of them outtakes from their last record and major label debut. 'Two Steps From The Move'. And as with all outtakes collections, some of the tracks should have maybe remained unreleased, but most of them are pretty great, and all of them are a welcome addition to the Hanoi Rocks canon, some of the most vibrant and under appreciated rock and roll of the last 25 years.
'Oriental Beat' is Hanoi Rocks' second record and the line up still featured their original drummer Gyp Casino (who would be replaced by Razzle a year later, and Razzle would of course be killed in an automobile accident with Vince Neil which would
I'm beginning to feel like the guy at AQ that tries to convince you it's okay to like those bands that for some reason you are embarassed to like. But if that is my position, then so be it. We had a Hanoi Rocks greatest hits collection a while back, but
Hanoi Rocks, while inadvertently helping to spawn an entire generation of MTV glam rock, managed to create an amazing and varied body of work, from trashy garage stomps to perfect little pop songs. And even with a lot of high profile attention (their drummer was killed by Motley Crue's Vince Neil in a drunk driving accident, a hit with their cover of CCR's 'Up Around The Bend, having their entire catalog reissued on Guns and Roses' label at the height of G&R's popularity) they somehow managed to stay just enough underground to miss the superstardom they so deserved. Their sound was a mix of Stooges style garage rock, good old Beatle-esque pop, and a weird reggae/dub influence most obvious in their rhythm guitar parts and dubby drum lines (like the Clash, who supplied Hanoi Rocks with their replacement bass player when Sam Yaffa moved to America to play in Jetboy). But the bottom line is always the songs, and the songs are catchy as fuck. Trust me, Hanoi Rocks are so good, don't be swayed by their tenuous connection to the eighties hair bands (even though singer Mike Monroe was way hotter than any of his glam rock contemporaries). And mark my words, I will have Allan singing their praises in no time, even if it kills me, or him.
'Self Destruction Blues' was a compilation of unreleased material released to give the band time to rehearse/write with new drummer Razzle. But even as an odds and ends collection, this is an amazingly tight collection. Features possibly their most famous song (and everyone's favorite live tune) 'Taxi Driver' as well as another unbeatable batch of trashy, catchy songs, including the hauntingly beautiful and mildly creepy 'Dead By Xmas' which seemd to hint at Razzle's premature death.
I definitely had mixed emotions about the return of Hanoi Rocks, one of my favorite bands EVER. These sort of resurrections rarely end up being positive, with bands WAY behind their prime trying desparately to reclaim the fame and glory and postition in rock's hierarchy that was once theirs. It's not so rough with a band like Hanoi Rocks though, who never really received the acclaim they deserved. But then of course there's the fear that the world will catch on and LOVE the new record with no understanding of how great they once were. -sigh- Anyway, enough with my music nerdisms, I'm just glad there's a new Hanoi Rocks record, and while it's of course not as good as classic Hanoi Rocks, it's pretty darn kick ass, and way heavier than they ever sounded. The Stones and the New York Dolls and the Clash filtered through Guns And Roses and T-Rex, all bluesy guitars, harmonica solos, Mike Monroe's instantly recognizable vocals, sax solos (!), and some decently catchy songs. The most amazing part is how much they haven't changed in 2o years, which in this case is a good thing! But if you're new to Hanoi Rocks, start with Back To Mystery City or Oriental Beat or any of their original releases!
The return of perhaps our favorite depressive black metal band, with what might be their best record yet. A sprawling double disc, fourteen songs, ninety minutes, the perfect balance of lilting melodic jangle and abject pounding buzz drenched blackness. The band consummate masters of balancing the two, but goddamn if this isn't simultaneously their prettiest and poppiest, AND heaviest and most brutal record so far. Just check out the album opener, "Happy Days", the perfect band theme song if we've ever heard one, starting out all muted jangled and stripped down rhythm, a second guitar offering up a gorgeous glistening melody, you'd be forgiven for thinking this was some new lo-fi bliss pop outfit, until the sound explodes into something much more fierce, but the magic of Happy Days, is that the melody and jangle of that opening bit is carried right over into the heavy part, the drums pounding, the guitars buzzing, and that glistening second guitar melody, a gorgeously distorted melancholy sort-of-lead that winds its way through the whole track. And that's exactly what makes this stuff so good, that no matter how harsh and heavy the sound is, it's infused with a haunted melancholia, and the buzz and pound is underpinned by wistful melodies, or a minor key refrain that gives the buzz some emotional resonance, this is after all depressive, dark, hopeless music, and Happy Days perfectly capture those feelings and transform them into sound.
Almost every track here is a strange fusion of grim raspy blackness, and super melodic melancholia, minus the raspy vokills, mush of this could pass for some sort of gloom pop, and even with the vocals, the production is such, that they're way less harsh than on past records, to the point that the vocals even seem to be marginally more melodic at times. To be fair, there are a few moments of fierce blackened fury, mostly sans melody, like on "No Solution", a blown out barnburner for sure, the guitars brittle and in-the-red and woozily warped, the vocals a hellish bellow, with some cool doomy chugging, but for the most part grim and harsh and harrowing, but even tracks that seem similar like "Forever Asleep (Dead)" will out of nowhere unleash some killer melody, and the whole song is transformed. So great. Fans will not be disappointed, and folks who have been a bit black metal phobic, this could very well be the sort of record that lures you over to the dark side...
The return of one of our favorite depressive black metal bands, a band we loved before we even heard them, almost entirely because of their bad ass band name, Happy Days. Yep, Happy Days. Black Metal. It does make sense, trust us. So these guys call the sunny state of Florida home, but you'd never know it from the very unhappy racket they stir up, stumbling practice space drums, dreary minor key riffage, vocals both harsh and howled, and mopey and moaned, and some truly unlikely sound samples. But these guys are WAY more than the sum of their parts, they manage to evoke so much with so little, their sound seems simple, and is to a degree, but they manage to take simple riffs, and weave mesmerizing soundscapes of moody miserablism, the repetition lending a definite gravitas to the already intense and emotional melodies and riffs, the vocals are of course anguished and tortured, but there are so many bands who do this sort of thing, that it really is something special and ineffable that makes these guys stand out so dramatically.
Whereas they sampled Fight Club (!) on the first record (and granted, we normally hate when bands use WAY too obvious samples, but there's something about the ones these guys choose and how they come across removed from the film, more on that in a second), and it was definitely funny hearing Brad Pitt on a black metal record, but also, his words recontextualized, sounded more sinister, and similarly here, Happy Days chose to sample Breakfast Club, again a weird choice, the bit where Judd Nelson is acting out a typically abusive holiday with his father, and another where the asshole principal is lecturing the students in detention, well first, what was more depressing that high school really, so in that way, it was a pretty good choice, but those two soliloquies, taken out of the context of the film, sound SO much more hateful and harsh, like scary and brutal and seriously sinister, it's really strange, and it does suit the music, and then the segue into the music, it's really dramatic, but forget about the samples, it's all about the music, and the music here is really fucked up and dark and powerful. The opening track is the same riffy lament, over and over and over for 4+ minutes, laced with a drifting minor key melody over the top, so totally mesmerizing and hypnotic, maybe our favorite part of Happy Days, when they forego proper BM tropes and just unfurl some sort of lo-fi slowcore looped dirge. The second track is another simple, gorgeously melancholic riff, this time supported by a simple plodding drum beat, the sound of thunder and pouring rain, and some super harsh bellowed vocals, but the arrangement, and the sound, makes it anything but harsh, more sort of washed out, soft edged, and miserable sounding. A lot of the songs sound a little like slowed down Katatonia songs as played by the guy in Varghkoghargasmal, a sort of epic doomy dreaminess, but all stumbly and off kilter, more about raw emotion and passion and the dark spirit than the actual execution or recording quality.
The 14+ minute title track is maybe our favorite, yet another impossibly catchy main riff, a descending melody, so depressive and mournful, the vocals a strange spoken diatribe on misery and loneliness and death, the drums again and simple plod, the guitars occasionally offering up strange little squeaks or squiggles, but for the most part locked into a never ending loop, until about halfway through, when everything shifts, leaving just some simple jangly Hypothermia-like clean guitar, over equally simple and stripped down drums, lilting and sad, before the distorted guitar kicks back in along with some harsh growled demonic vox, that just seems to up the intensity.
The final track is another brooding slow lumber through atonal misery and angular minor key miserablism, but here the vocals are unhinged and unleashed, the guitars seem slightly out of tune, the vocals following suit, slipping from screech to Muppet-y gurgle to wild whoop to raspy yowl, but still managing to evoke some sort of mysterious sorrow.
These guys are definitely far out, and their sound is an acquired taste, even for the depressive black metal inclined, and on some level, it's hard not to think maybe they're taking the piss, but it hardly matters, once you let this weirdly warped chunk of sonic misery wash over you, you sort of have to give in, it's at once soothing and enthralling, buzzy and bizarre, fractured and fucked, and is quickly becoming one of our new favorites. We might like it even more than the first Happy Days, which is saying a lot.
Definite recommended listening for the black hearted and frozen souled, released on one of our new favorite labels, Self Mutilation Services in Mexico, hopefully more depressive weirdness from them to come (and when we run out it might take a little while to get more as they're being shipped up from Mexico, so please be patient)...
The return of possibly our favorite depressive black metal band going these days, the awesomely (and ironically, obviously) monickered Happy Days, who seem to keep getting better and better, and weirder and weirder with every release, and with Happiness Stops Here... we can add poppier and poppier.
Their MO remains the same, but then why fix what ain't broke? Clean minor key guitars, simple drumming, those two elements wound into a loping post rock meander, before the buzzy blackness erupts and takes over, as well as the WAY up in the mix, harsh howled vokills. It's that weird dichotomy that makes Happy Days so compelling, the music is so pretty, so darkly melodic and weirdly poppy, and those vocals, a harsh sinister croak, constantly pulling and pushing against each other. On this record more than either of the others, the melodic component is front and center, remove the vocals, and we'd be talking some seriously dreamy buzz pop, or tweak it just a bit and we'd be in Lifelover territory, as it is, it's more like a revved up Hypothermia, or a slowed down, much more raw and ragged Katatonia, when the second clean guitar comes in, and offers a super emotional melodic counterpoint, it's some seriously intense stuff.
"My Brutus" features those dueling guitars, over some cool busy drumming, and some almost melodic vocals (still harsh and raspy), the guitars chiming, the vibe almost new wavey, the main riff looped endlessly, the whole track totally hypnotic. "Letting Go" might be our favorite though. The drums and guitar locked into a woozy downtuned lumbering groove, the vocals echo-y and reverbed, deep and near spoken, until again, a second guitar swoops in and offers up an arpeggiated minor key melody that wraps itself around that original riff, before the harsh vocals explode in a frenzy of tortured misery, until the drums bust out double time, and the guitars lock into a dizzying rapid fire harmony, which is easily the high point of the record, both emotionally and musically. Super intense and so goddamn catchy.
The thing with Happy Days, was that in the beginning, their ineptness and half assedness was a huge part of their appeal, total on the verge of falling apart chaos, strange and obvious samples, lots of drum struggle, all of which -would- occasionally coalesce into some seriously dark depressive buzz, but would inevitably splinter into chaos once again. The band now are so much tighter, which generally would turn us off, we like our fucked up black metal as inept and as damaged as possible, but it suits these guys, they're still plenty loose and rough and raw, but locked into these darkly depressive pop grooves, these guys are in their element, and seemingly have no equal. Depressive black metal record of the year? Most definitely? Buzzing blackened gloom pop record of the year, maybe that too...
Once again, we were sold before we heard even a single note. A super suicidal, ultra depressive, doomy black metal bedroom band called� Happy Days. Yep, that's right. Happy Days. Funny because the music is anything but, but also because, for a band this grim, and this miserable, it seems strange to have a name that to some will no doubt evoke the Fonz and Potsie and Richie Cunningham.
But don't let the name throw you off, Happy Days are not a joke band, they are nothing if not serious. Serious about their utter abject musical misery, from the opening few seconds, a lugubrious loop of mournful reverbed piano, set amidst a deep shimmering sea of drones, and an emotional voice, intoning a tale of personal misery. Super dramatic and powerful, and so so so so miserable.
But that track only serves as an intro. "The Beginning�" starts with a simple guitar melody, which gives way to a spare melancholy strum, peppered with samples from Fight Club oddly enough, and although Brad Pitt is probably the last person you might expect to hear on a suicidal black metal record, removed from the context of the film, those spoken word passages are indeed bleak and perfectly suit the music. That voice intones: "Our Great Depression is our lives�" and then the guitar kicks in, recorded way too hot, the distortion crumbling, a furious fuzz, the drums also distorted, wound into a simple moody crawl, the vocals totally blown out and confusional, going from maniacal shriek, to caustic growl, to strange spoken word, in what seems to be both English and Norwegian, all over a gloriously loping minor key dirge.
The final three tracks, the bulk of the record, are all extended epics, ranging from 10 minutes to nearly 20. And all three offer up more gloriously dismal Burzumic buzz, the drums a doomy plod, the riffs, thick and crunchy, existing more as a nearly static white noise whirled blur, the sound and arrangement and production, woozy and seasick, the vocals over the top, sometimes so loud and hysterical they peg the meters and drown out the rest of the music, even the spoken word parts are super distorted and strangely blown out. The riffs, seems to speed up and slow down as well, almost like the tape speed is being subtly adjusted, which only adds to the haunting otherworldiness.
The sound is ultra raw, and definitely has that bedroom 4-track vibe, giving Happy Days a sound more personal and lo-fi than heavy, but the heaviness is still masterfully conveyed in the sound, the riffing, the super saturated production, the emotion. Miserable abject hateful, but weirdly melancholy and beautiful, a few subtle changes, and this could be a blissed out slow motion sadcore record, but as it is, it's anything but.
The final track is a cover of a song by Czech black metal band Trist, whose sound easily becomes Happy Days', the recording here even more damaged, the guitar so hot and in the red, that it seems to be crumbling to pieces, or the speakers seem to be overloading, making it sound almost electronic, a chopped and clipped distorted chunk of white hot buzz, laid over a framework of equally distorted drums, a lurching slow motion buzz drenched plod, the vocals at their most anguished and miserable. The sound so fractured, that over the course of the song's 10 minutes, it almost stops sounding like black metal, and more like some experimental blackened buzzscape.
Really nice packaging, extra thick cardstock booklet and tray card, spare images, all blacks and greys, it's a real cd too, NOT a cd-r, but still strangely limited to ONLY 300 COPIES!! So odds are once we run out these will be gone for good.
By now, most aQ metalheads know all about our undying love for oddly monickered Happy Days, and most likely feel the same. But for those who might be confused by a metal band called Happy Days, let's examine this, their latest, a split with Dutch outfit Eindig. The record is called The First Step Towards Suicide, there's a photo of an oven on the cover. The Happy Days tracks have names like "Clinging Onto A Chance Of Happiness" and A Bleak Future That Awaits Us" and "Too Sick To Speak", the booklet is full of blurred photos of people hunched over, seemingly in misery, so yeah, the name Happy Days is meant ironically, cuz these sounds are the soundtrack for the unhappiest days you can imagine.
Happy Days offer up a new batch of abject audial depression, beginning with a mournful jangly guitar accompanied by an appropriately dark and hopeless sample, before launching into some buzzing midtempo depressive black metal, melodic and melancholy, after a burst of furious buzz, the record settles into a loping melodic gloom and doom, gorgeously sorrowful guitar melodies draped over pounding drums, raspy vokills and churning riffage. More dark and atmospheric than blasting and buzzing, but there's still plenty of that lurking within these tracks. Some killer riffs, some awesome hooks, buried amidst all the miserable buzz. But every time the second guitar line comes in, with some totally heartbreaking melody, it's then that Happy Days reveals itself as more than just some grim black horde. This is the best sounding Happy Days record yet, the music exuding that same dark pathos, but perfectly suited to the duo's slightly more polished black melancholic buzz.
Dutch depressive metallers Eindig are a subtly different beast, their sound thicker and more full, a bit more poppy too, their opening track, strangely melodic and 'happy' sounding, a sunshiney melody strapped to some pounding beats and some howling vox, balanced we'd imagine by some seriously bleak lyrics (can't tell for sure, as they're not in English), but the song slips from super melodic jangle to more grim minor key miserablism. Which seems to be their M.O., their music a strange mix of melody and aggression, but with a sound that shifts dramatically, from that sunshiney opener, to a more anguished and dejected traditional depressive black metal, to a downright lovely bit of big drum / clean guitar post rocky drift, the vox WAY down in the mix, super spare and skeletal and really quite pretty, to the final 9 minute epic that is similarly melodic, no distorted guitars, just drums and clean jangle, this time though the vocals a ghastly and tortured presence, jarring over the comparatively lovely melodic drift underneath, and some super intense, yet still undistorted crescendos. Incredible stuff from both bands.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Another gloriously noxious dose of grim, raw blackness form LA trio Harassor, the group's newest proper full length. Like their recent split lp with Glass Coffin, and another recent split with Author & Punisher, this recent barrage of new material is some of the best stuff we've heard from these guys. And even removed from their dramatic live shows, the music here is pretty compelling, fusing the sort of raw Venomish black metal churn with something more tranced out and droney, not to mention a fair bit of melody in the mix, that makes some of this stuff surprisingly catchy. But it's all relative, and the catchiness here is subtle when compared to the groups grim black din, frenzied, furious riffing, and lose limbed rapid fire drumming, no bass, but really, you generally can't here the bass in black metal anyway, and it's not really missed here. And the vocals are a killer mix of guttural demonic grunts and hysterical shrieks, all wound up into furious, hellish heaviness, the sort of blurred blackness that's almost more trancelike than metallic, that is when not devolving into more punk metal pound, which the band do often and well, but even then, they'll lock into a looped sounding riff/blast that often into a totally mesmerizing blackblastdrone, before eventually devolving right back into that blackened punkiness. And like that split with Glass Coffin, some tracks are crazy catchy, sounding almost post rocky / shoegazey (check out "Winter's Triumph", which sounds like some sort of blackened post punk), hinting at the kind of band these guys could so easily be, but that element only adds to the groups twisted blackness, which in turn is only further enhanced by their blood soaked ritualistic live performances, which you should check out if you ever get the chance...
Includes a download code too.
Latest from these LA black metal mashers, not a proper new record, but instead a collection of tracks culled from various live practice space recording sessions with Bobb Bruno, he of Best Coast, Polar Goldie Cats, Submissions, etc. Murky and muddy and appropriately lo-fi, recorded on a 4 track, but still sounding pretty fierce and heavy as fuck, these jams find Harassor in fine form, their blackened punkish pound flitting easily from furious blackened thrash to churning chugging crush, laced with glass gargling shrieks and caveman drum pound. The sound is pretty epic and huge considering the set up here is just one guitar, drums and vox, the band make the most of it, spewing thick black gouts of black buzz, and roiling doomic crush, blasting beats driving these jams, and like the best black metal, the sound often blurring into tranced out black mesmer.
The lp version is LIMITED TO 300 COPIES and comes housed in a super swank hand silkscreened cover. Inside is a fold out poster, one side featuring the band, with Bruno, and a very black metal cat; the other side offers up tons of liner notes, the coolest part being extensive track by track notes, with each member weighing in on each track, its writing, recording, genesis, whatever, which makes for pretty fun reading. Plus all the lp sleeves are decorated with real human Harassor blood! The tape version IS LIMITED TO 200 COPIES!! And comes sans blood, and liner notes/poster.
Latest from these LA black metal mashers, not a proper new record, but instead a collection of tracks culled from various live practice space recording sessions with Bobb Bruno, he of Best Coast, Polar Goldie Cats, Submissions, etc. Murky and muddy and appropriately lo-fi, recorded on a 4 track, but still sounding pretty fierce and heavy as fuck, these jams find Harassor in fine form, their blackened punkish pound flitting easily from furious blackened thrash to churning chugging crush, laced with glass gargling shrieks and caveman drum pound. The sound is pretty epic and huge considering the set up here is just one guitar, drums and vox, the band make the most of it, spewing thick black gouts of black buzz, and roiling doomic crush, blasting beats driving these jams, and like the best black metal, the sound often blurring into tranced out black mesmer.
The lp version is LIMITED TO 300 COPIES and comes housed in a super swank hand silkscreened cover. Inside is a fold out poster, one side featuring the band, with Bruno, and a very black metal cat; the other side offers up tons of liner notes, the coolest part being extensive track by track notes, with each member weighing in on each track, its writing, recording, genesis, whatever, which makes for pretty fun reading. Plus all the lp sleeves are decorated with real human Harassor blood! The tape version IS LIMITED TO 200 COPIES!! And comes sans blood, and liner notes/poster.
Not a new record, but a vinyl reissue of the long out of print cassette demo debut from LA black metal trio Harassor, and actually, the first proper full length we've heard from these guys, having only ever reviewed their split 7" with SF horde Moon Dark. But for those of you who remember Harassor's side of that split, this full length is more of the same, if anything more twisted and fucked up and weirdly raw. Plenty of d-beat style raw black metal pound, the guitars filthy and crusty, the vocals an effects drenched bellow one minute, an alien garble the next, the drums a wild chaotic pummel all but buried in the noise drenched mix, the sound primitive and blown out, lo-fi, but still caustic and noisy and heavy, the songs tending toward the punkish, but slipping easily into furious buzzing blast or lumbering doomic lurch.
Two of the tracks here are modern re-recordings of tracks from the original demo, and thus, sound way more polished, but polish in black metal is really relative, so while the guitars are thicker, the drums more powerful, the vocals are still a demonic croak, and overall, the re-recorded sounds are just as buzzy and frenzied and crusty as the originals.
There's also a new song, "Killed By Inanity", which unfurls thick crumbling superdistorted riffage, pounding midtempo drum pummel, the vocals a caustic glass gargling growl, careening from tangled gnarled blast, punky gallop, to full on blown out almost noise rock, which definitely hints at the groups non-black metal roots, and perhaps points to the band's new material continuing to push the boundaries of the raw, primitive blackness they so clearly are masters of. Definitely recommended for fans of Bone Awl, Maleveillance, Akitsa, Ildjarn, and similarly grim practitioners of the primitive black arts...
LIMITED TO 250 COPIES, pressed on 140 gram vinyl, comes with a sticker.
When you read our Saviours review below, you'll probably get the idea that we thought that it was the best metal of the trad '80s influenced (denim, leather, fists in the air) variety on this week's list. Well, it might be... but then again this record might be too (i.e. they're both pretty rad). Since we don't do our reviews in alphabetical order, though, Saviours happened to get written first, and into that review went many of the superlatives and expletives that we'd also apply to Harbinger.
Harbinger are deliberately '80s NWOBHM styled metal, but kick everything (especially everything ridiculous) up a notch, delivering the goods with all the hyperactive energy of school children hopped up on sugary breakfast cereals. It's all very intentionally over the top, but they mean it sincerely. We know they do, 'cause we heard about them in the first place from some friends of ours who are also in a metal band (Slough Feg), who always rave about how much fun it is to play in East Lansing, Michigan, 'cause that's where these Harbinger dudes dwell... they've got a total party house, drink tons of beer, only listen to vinyl (ironic then that this is cd-only as yet!), and watch movies only on VHS tape, not dvd. They probably don't have cel phones or use the Internet if they can help it. But these are kids, not actual '80s burn outs, just 20-something kids doing their best to live an imaginary '80s metal lifestyle. And, in addition, making old school heavy metal music to match!
What we really like about Harbinger is that as retro as they are, they're also completely willing to "own" the music themselves and do surprising stuff so that they really don't sound like a generic clone of any actual '80s band. Instead, like we said, they seem a bit more crazed than that. Invariably their songs, after relatively sedate intro, suddenly surge forward faster, as if you'd flipped the switch from 33 to 45 rpm. Their guitars are super distorted, this record a real rickety ruckus of a racket. Blazing along, these songs are crammed with unexpected cool parts, lots of shedding solos and burbling bass licks, blasts of drum clatter and plenty of high pitched waaaaaooooooooooohhh screams on the edge of insane. The vocalist also sings with a raspier nasal yowl that can convey melodic catchiness quite well, straight off the Sunset Strip... spin, ferinstance, "Die For Metal - Live For Death" more than once and see if you're not singing along. The disc is also littered with amusing samples - including some taken from our favorite metal mockumentary, no not Spinal Tap, we're talking about Bad Newz!
So maybe Harbinger aren't the most serious band ever, but they're having a blast, and it really do kick ass. It's hard not to get caught up in the spirit of things. Which allows us to appreciate the terrible cover art, a painting of a scary-looking warrior woman, quite buxom in her spiked breastplate, brandishing a morningstar in one hand and, in the other, what looks like an oatmeal or chocolate chip cookie but is upon closer examination actually dirt-globe of some sort, on or inside of which tiny silhouettes of other medieval fantasy fighters do battle. Weird, but maybe not as weird as the inner tray photo of a fist (with studded leather wristband, wearing a fingerless Harbinger brand weightlifting glove) thrusting upwards from beneath a pile of pocket change... pennies, nickles, dimes, and quarters! That's their idea of bling, apparently. And somehow it goes along with everything else here that makes 'em seem more real and raw and fresh (idiosyncratically so) than some other bands we also like, who are doing the "New Wave Of Old School Heavy Metal" thing too.
One of the few non Drop Dead or Drop Dead related records released on the Armageddon Label (run by one of the Drop Dead dudes) which in itself should be a pretty strong endorsement. A half hour long blast of punishing hardcore grind/sludge from this now defunct (?) outfit. Furious thrashing Drop Dead style hardcore combined with doomy dirges, druggy, sludgy Eyehategod groove, weirdly lounge-y interludes, bizarre samples, complex arrangements and lots of beautifully fucked up riffage. Features current and former members of Electric Wizard, Iron Monkey, Teeth Of The Lions Rule The Divine and the Dukes Of Nothing.
You get five tracks, seventeen minutes of beer-fueled metal/punk aggression on this ep from Washington state hairies Harkonen, including a totally killer cover Scratch Acid's "Cannibal". Heavy but kinda arty and rockin'ly catchy. You get the idea that this band likes to have fun and party and all that, but they've got a scary, serious side to 'em and it's probably best just to get out of the way and let 'em play. It makes sense they'd be into Scratch Acid, and I wouldn't be surprised to hear 'em cover the Melvins or Black Flag or Today Is The Day someday too. We look forward to this summer's upcoming full-length on Hydrahead...
Latest slab of grizzled grungy downtuned sludge rock / metal core (heavy on the metal) from Hydra Head. Harkonen are one of the only metal bands to actually get reviewed in the Wire magazine (and a good review to boot, even though they listed the band as
Heavy Hydrahead metalcore from Tacoma, Washington's hard rockin' Harkonen. Headbanging, punked-up sludge music with an arty bent, something like Neurosis, Melvins, old Cave In, and (let's try a more obscure reference) Nonoyesno. They employ raw vocals, pounding drums, guitar feedback, and bits of droney atmosphere -- all in the service of what are, underneath, kinda catchy lil' songs. Maybe not the most groundbreaking release on Hydrahead ever, but still good recommended heaviness.
