We've long been fans of Seattle's Iron Lung, but this is the first time they've made it on the aQ list, it's about time too, after about a million splits and a couple proper full lengths. A drums and guitar duo, not that you'd ever know it from their sound, Iron Lung are dense and thrashing, lurching and pounding, thrashing and grinding modern power violence.
And yeah, we know that all the real power violence bands are dead and gone (Man Is The Bastard, Infest, No Comment, Spazz, Crossed Out) and that most bands these days who call themselves power violence, are typically NOT, and are just trying to garner cool cred by aligning themselves with the above mentioned bands. As far as we know, Iron Lung don't consider themselves power violence, probably more like thrashcore, or just hardcore, but their sound is way too varied and fucked up and metal to be so simple to describe. Sure there's plenty of thrashing and blasting, but the band spend just as much time plodding along doomily, with some serious metallic riffing, and plenty of lurching stop/start arrangements, huge slabs of churning downtuned groove and caveman like pummel, but even at their doomiest, the tracks still occasionally splinter into atonal angular melodies, mathy off kilter rhythms and freaked out squalls of tangled grind. Brief bursts of complex fury, stretched into churning, sprawling mini power violence epics.
Awesome cover art by Rudimentary Peni's Nick Blinko!!
We've dearly missed our daily visits from J Church mainman Lance Hahn since he moved away from SF to Texas, but we're pleased as punch to see he's been keeping healthy and busy. Released on his label, Meaty, Beaty, Shitty is subtitled "Singles and shit from
Long awaited fifth full-length from these SF pop-punk stalwarts J Church. Prior to its release, there were rumours that this cd was possibly going to be a double album, but nope, they fit all 26 songs on one cd. This time around taking their time recording at Lucky Cat Studios, Lance, Adam and Jeff are taking it a bit more laidback -- leaving more room for the melodies to shine through. Whether this shift in pace is due to a very alarming health scare or new love, who knows? J Church are back and sounding fresh and in high spirits. Adding to the light springy air of this record are the sweet vocals of the lovely Kelly, formerly of SF's PEE. Particularly key tunes: "Anybody" and "The Track". Great stuff.
The resilience, strength and determination of Lance Hahn of pop-punk vets J Church are unquestionable. He's soldiered forth in the face of much adversity - health problems and a fire that consumed his home and Honey Bear Records headquarters. This new collection follows their Meaty, Beaty, Shitty Sounding (2001) and their great One Mississippi (2000), but actually was intended as a follow-up to 1996's Drama Of Alienation which preceded One Mississippi. Still with me? Needless to say, JC's Lance Hahn is super prolific, a tireless songwriter and road warrior. This cd displays his honest, no-frills, capture-the-moment recording processes. It was recorded whenever and wherever worked for them - both budget and timewise. In fact, many of these recordings were done years ago, and due to a number of obstacles, are only now seeing their release. That said, there are some rough spots, unfixable flaws, and downright murky moments in these recordings, but fans of J Church know full well what the band's all about, and that's doing the best with what's at hand and maintaining a sense of immediacy. Lance's lyrics address both the personal and political. Thus, to further encourage the grassroots exchange of ideas, he also includes a suggested reading list along with the lyric sheet in the liner notes. That list includes works by Nagisa Oshima, Hans Richter, Paul Avrich among others.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Maybe it's just 'cause we miss our ol' pal Lance Hahn, ever since he moved off to Austin, TX a little while back, that reviewing this release by his melodic, energetic pop-punk band J Church just makes us all nostalgic, thinking about when we could count on seeing Lance almost everyday hanging out here at Aquarius. But of course we're happy he's happy over there in Texas, and we're also happy to report that J Church is as vital as ever. This split teams five tracks performed by Lance Hahn's new Texan J Church lineup with four cuts by another Austin-based band, Storm The Tower, who play a Black Flagish, vaguely metallic style of hardcore. Their side is no let down, while J Church's half adds five fine new songs to the vast J Church discography, ranging from galloping pop punk anthems to explorations in guitar noise texture. Opening track "Terror Or Love" we almost thought was '80s metal before Lance's distinctive, earnest, diy vocals kicked in on the chorus!
NOW ON VINYL! There's a double cd collection we listed recently called Hit And Run, this lp contains the tracks from the first of those discs only, but it's the most essential stuff. Here's our write up on Jack Ruby from before...
Jack Ruby was a sporadic NYC art-fuck project from the mid '70s that existed before such a thing as No Wave could be codified as an actual 'scene' or else they would have no doubt been lumped alongside Teenage Jesus & The Jerks, Beirut Slump, Theoretical Girls, and Mars. The band only managed to get into a proper studio a couple of a times and played about five shows during their brief start-stop-start-stop 'career'. By the time the band finally ceased to be in 1977, none of the founding members had stuck around to see the band dissolve. The title track to this compilation was recorded in one of Jack Ruby's very rare studio sessions, made as a demo for Epic Records who may have been looking for the next Stooges, but instead had on their hands a psycho tune of hotwired proto-punk underpinned by strutting monofunk rhythms and an unkempt guitar/violin squalor on top. What would have been the B-side to that unreleased single is an atonal carcrash of anti-rock entitled "Mayonnaise." Had Jack Ruby continued to make tracks like these two, they may have been destined for greatness; but as it is, the band was only a whisper of a footnote, barely remembered by anybody from back in the day.
If the chronology is to be understood properly, the first incarnation of Jack Ruby involved electronic wrangler Randy Cohen, who splattered sounds across his Serge synthesizer with free-noise squiggles courtesy of the mononymous performance artist Boris (later known as Boris Policeband) and mumbled anti-poetry from Robin Hall. The recordings from this incarnation of Jack Ruby comprise the second disc, very much a precursor to the libertine, DIY electronics of Nautical Almanac. When Cohen, Boris, and Hall added guitarist / bassist Chris Gray into the fray, Jack Ruby transformed into the splatter-rock outfit that earned them that one longshot possibility to record for Epic, taking up purposefully tasteless raunch-rock akin to the Electric Eels and Destroy All Monsters. Boris, Cohen, and Hall all slowly departed, with Gray finding other members to bash rhythm and thrash vocal cords. One of Jack Ruby's latter-day members was George Scott III who matriculated into No Wave royalty as a member of the Contortionists and 8-Eyed Spy.
NOW ON VINYL! The second half of the Hit And Run double cd collection, with all the material that didn't appear on the vinyl Vol. 1, including the 16+ minute track "Destroy/Lost". Here's our write up all about Jack Ruby from when we listed the compact disc collection...
Jack Ruby was a sporadic NYC art-fuck project from the mid '70s that existed before such a thing as No Wave could be codified as an actual 'scene' or else they would have no doubt been lumped alongside Teenage Jesus & The Jerks, Beirut Slump, Theoretical Girls, and Mars. The band only managed to get into a proper studio a couple of a times and played about five shows during their brief start-stop-start-stop 'career'. By the time the band finally ceased to be in 1977, none of the founding members had stuck around to see the band dissolve. The title track to this compilation was recorded in one of Jack Ruby's very rare studio sessions, made as a demo for Epic Records who may have been looking for the next Stooges, but instead had on their hands a psycho tune of hotwired proto-punk underpinned by strutting monofunk rhythms and an unkempt guitar/violin squalor on top. What would have been the B-side to that unreleased single is an atonal carcrash of anti-rock entitled "Mayonnaise." Had Jack Ruby continued to make tracks like these two, they may have been destined for greatness; but as it is, the band was only a whisper of a footnote, barely remembered by anybody from back in the day.
If the chronology is to be understood properly, the first incarnation of Jack Ruby involved electronic wrangler Randy Cohen, who splattered sounds across his Serge synthesizer with free-noise squiggles courtesy of the mononymous performance artist Boris (later known as Boris Policeband) and mumbled anti-poetry from Robin Hall. The recordings from this incarnation of Jack Ruby comprise the second disc, very much a precursor to the libertine, DIY electronics of Nautical Almanac. When Cohen, Boris, and Hall added guitarist / bassist Chris Gray into the fray, Jack Ruby transformed into the splatter-rock outfit that earned them that one longshot possibility to record for Epic, taking up purposefully tasteless raunch-rock akin to the Electric Eels and Destroy All Monsters. Boris, Cohen, and Hall all slowly departed, with Gray finding other members to bash rhythm and thrash vocal cords. One of Jack Ruby's latter-day members was George Scott III who matriculated into No Wave royalty as a member of the Contortionists and 8-Eyed Spy.
What would happen if you somehow mixed the chaotic two piece post punk frenzy of No Age with the earnest, fuzzed out classic kinetic yowled indie rock of Superchunk? Odds are it would end up sounding a lot like Japandroids. A guitar and drums duo, who kick up a killer racket, with crunchy fuzzed out riffage, super distorted wild drumming, some seriously anthemic jams, and minimal lyrics, most repeated over and over and over, ripe for wild sweaty basement show sing alongs, the vocals are high and keening and emo(tional), the band are wild and woolly, not all that tight, just rough and raw and loose enough to make this whole record feel like they're playing right there in the room with you, like any minute you could find yourself careening into the drum kit, or you could suddenly be sprawled on the floor with the guitar player and a bunch of kids writhing right next to you covered in beer and wrapped in feedback. Sweaty and intense, energetic, super rocking and WAY fun, these guys must KILL live, and although lots of bands do, most have trouble capturing that live energy on record, but Japandroids don't seem to have any problems there at all.
Any record that starts with a solid 30 seconds of feedback is definitely gonna be good, and then when it explodes into a frenzy of melodic crusty metal, with super distorted howled vocals (and some competing black metal shrieks), spidery harmonized guitar melodies and thick swells of stonery sludge, it pretty much seals the deal. Which is precisely the case with Beasts Among Sheep, the latest from Philly's Javelina, named for a tusked swine that terrorizes the Southwest, killing small animals and destroying gardens, but this Javelina is something way more imposing and terrifying, a lurching, ultra distorted sludge metal juggernaut, that takes what could be a head spinning kitchen sink approach to their craft and instead fuses all sorts of disparate elements into something super heavy, groovy, melodic and rocking, definite references would include NOLA bands like Kylesa, Baroness, Down, Eyehategod, Crowbar, that same sort of swampy groovy and downtuned sludge, but the guitars are straight up NWOBHM, often busting out incredible harmonized leads right in the midst of a plodding tarpit sludge workout. And the vocals, flip from cookie monster growl to demonic shriek, giving the record a totally different vibe, the bass driving everything, especially when they slow it down and get all brooding and doomy, but shit, the riffs, some of the most kick ass riffing we've heard in ages. Fans of Mastodon and High On Fire will probably dig the shit out of this too, but it's away weirder and rawer and so much more catchy and fucked up and original as far as we're concerned. Be sure and stick around after the records' doomcrustprog blowout closer "Beware The Wrath Of The Patient Man", for the frenzied crust sludge secret track tucked away at the end.
Absolutely essential heaviness for sure...
Finally. MY favorite Jawbreaker record gets reissued. For years I've had a crappy cd-r copy because I was unwilling to spend $50 or $100 on Ebay for a copy. And I know, Unfun is the best Jawbreaker record. No need to email me and tell me how much Dear You sucks and that I'm a dumbshit. I'm well aware that Dear You, while being Jawbreaker's major label debut, also represented a stylistic shift that alienated most of their fans. Outside of Green Day, Jawbreaker were one of the most discussed punk rock sell outs. But hell, as far as 'sell out' records go, this is definitely one of the best. A lot of the raw energy of early Jawbreaker may have gotten a little lost in the shuffle. But not a bad sacrifice for the amazing songwriting and the killer production. Crunchy chugging riffs, Blake's throaty rasp, Adam and Chris's tight-as-fuck rhythm section, and just killer songs. Dear You owes way more to Nirvana and nineties indie/college rock than it does to crusty Gilman Street punk rock. By the time Dear You was recorded Jawbreaker were getting too old for that shit anyway. And you can definitely hear shades of Blake's future project Jets To Brazil in the poppy songsmithery and occasional indie jangle. Re-issued on Jawbreaker drummer Adam's Blackball label after years of legal wrangling with their former label Geffen. Includes bonus tracks and the video for their should-have-been-a-hit "Fireman".
The demise of this awesome punk pop group broke many hearts. And though you thought you'd heard everything that they recorded, thankfully there is more. A plethora of b-sides, compilation tracks, and unreleased songs from 1988-1995 collected together on this long-awaited cd released on Jawbreaker drummer Adam Pfahler's Blackball Records. One thing's for certain, they sure did cover a heap of hits in their time: REM, U2, The Psychedelic Furs, The Misfits, and The Vapors.
With super extensive liner notes from the tireless pen of Aaron Cometbus (whose Cometbus Omnibus book is also listed here!) as well as complete release info and cover art, not to mention comments from the band members themselves.
There are those bands from your youth that you liked, some that you loved, and then those special few that managed strike a nerve, to get inside your psyche and speak right to you in a way that almost nothing else could. For many of us, Jawbreaker were that band! They were a group you would become obsessed with, get tattoos of their logo, memorize their lyrics, drive hundreds of miles just to see them if they didn't play in your hometown. Makes us feel old, but this is the 20th anniversary of their amazing debut, Unfun, which came out in 1990 and was the soundtrack to ours and so many others coming of age. Punchy, catchy, and fast yet filled with so much raw emotion and personal conviction. While they played a lot at places like Gilman Street and were associated with the now made-famous-by-Green-Day East Bay punk scene, there was something much more vital and real in Jawbreaker's music than in so many of their contemporaries. Their music was for people who loved the sweat, energy and passion of punk but also hated the rigid/forced and contrived politics and fashion that the music was so often aligned with. This was a new voice. While other bands were singing copycat tired played out songs about smashing the state, Jawbreaker were writing songs about real moments in life that we could all relate to. It was the soundtrack to the house party you felt awkward at, the first encounter with that person you had a crush on, the solitary moments when you found yourself walking aimlessly with a zine in your back pocket and duct tape holding your shoes together as you tried to figure out what was coming next in your life.
Unfun was smart pop-punk, not the Warped Tour/Epitaph brand that would soon sweep over the nation. It was born from the influences of '80s bands like Husker Du, The Replacements and Rites Of Spring. They truly were going against the punk rock grain at the time which was ruled by very narrow minded scene politics and silly posturing. With lyrics like 'Sorry we're not hard enough to piss your parents off', they were actively distancing themselves while critiquing the clique/silly nature of the scene they were thrown into, yet they embodied so many of the real reasons why people fall in love with punk rock in the first place. While the sound was definitely quite different, their music had the same kind of integrity and passion as Fugazi. They meant every single note, every single word. And for sure the words are such a big part of Jawbreaker's legacy. Front man Blake Schwarzenback was like the J.D. Salinger of the '90s punk/indie rock generation. He had an insight and ability to really nail so many truths about interpersonal relationships, daily life, and constant struggles with the mundane, as well as crises of spirit, of love and loss. Yet the music never let the lyrics overpower, as the band was such a triumphant and kick ass and tightly connected unit.
Putting this on all these years later, not only do a flood of emotions and memories hit us, but it still sounds so fucking good and relevant! Since Jawbreaker were so true to their own vision (even if it meant that the punk police of the time thought they were too soft or didn't have the right haircuts) they were able to create a music with so much true soul and such an undying spirit that it still holds up so strongly to this day. An absolute all time classic and favorite!
This remastered reissue also includes some bonus tracks from the Whack & Bite ep, which are great too, but it hardly matters, as the record is pretty much perfect as it is.
Oh how we love Jenny Piccolo. They were screamo before there was such a thing. Before screamo meant big hair and eyeliner. Jenny Piccolo were a whirling white hot ball of furious grinding power-violence. A live set would be 20 minutes long and feature 40 songs, not to mention a mess of broken guitars, smashed drums, sweat, blood and utter chaos. This disc collects pretty much everything, including splits and comps, and is a head crushing ear splitting anvil to the back of the head. 30 second bursts of black hole grindmetal mayhem, super dense, ultra complex blasts of dizzying blurry hypergrind. So fucking furious and so goddamn AWESOME! You like the Locust? Pig Destroyer? Man Is The Bastard? Mohinder? Agoraphobic Nosebleed? Drop Dead? Crossed Out? And somehow you missed out on Jenny Piccolo? It's time to make things right.
52 songs. 36 minutes.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Do we forgive them for the band name? Supposedly, this is a riff on the beloved avant-folk songstress Joanna Newsom, to which we have to ask "What the fuck, Joanna Gruesome? Really? What did Ms. Newsom ever do to you?" Sure, we've lauded the benefit / curse of having a laughably, ridiculously bad name; and this one may be nearing the top of the list, just 'cuz we can't think of a single reason why this band name should exist. But here it is, and fuck if Joanna Gruesome's sound doesn't completely right shine through their questionable moniker. In the best possible light, the name is an awkward commentary on the awkwardness of being an awkward indie-dork who is enduring the awkward growth spurts of late-teendom and who somehow has figured out to play guitar, bash drums, and sing harmonies in spite of the gangly legs and stubborn baby fat. This five piece hails from Wales, and couldn't have found a better home than Slumberland Records, which they share not only with current indie pop darlings Veronica Falls but also stalwarts of the fuzz-pop jangle like The Aislers Set and Black Tambourine. The songs on Weird Sister have a brilliantly schizoid ability to shift in style without sounding out of place at all (belying that awkward teen gangliness, mentioned earlier), with a dreamy, bubblegum pop-punk vibe that crashes into a riotous, overblown riff, sounding like a Veronica Falls vocal harmony smashed into a sugarsmacked noise-pop tune from the Swirlies, one of America's finest forgotten answers to My Bloody Valentine from back in the '90s. Vocalist Alanna McArdle (formerly of Evans The Death, fyi), alternates between the coy harmonizing chanteuse and the charmingly beligerent riot-grrl brat. Come by on a Saturday afternoon here at aQuarius, and the chances are this will be on the stereo. Yeah, a noise-pop classic for fuck's sake!
Jim Jocoy's unnarrated book of photos, never published before this year, is an amazing collection of images captured in and during San Francisco and LA's fertile punk scene of '78-'80. Taken spontaneously at clubs, the images show youths dressed to the nines in all the leopard print, skinny jeans, and eyeliner you can handle. Aquarius is super proud to be hosting Jocoy's first San Francisco event celebrating the publication of his photos. Meanwhile, enjoy his book. Here's what others have said:
"Buildings crumble; social signifiers fissure and evaporate. This much is forever; art students simultaneously discovering perceived oppression and thrift-store shoppong. Maybe that's why We're Desperate packs such timeless reverb. As a student living in San Francisco in the late '70s, Jocoy reported from the front line of the burgeoning punk scene by training his eye on the fans. Using a camera purchased at a garage sale, Jocoy photographed scenesters posed against club walls, capturing their ripped nylons, pegged jeans, leather jackets, and vinyl anything. Bookended by an introduction by Marc Jacobs, who has repeatedly referenced the era's Converse-and-logo-tee aesthetic, and a tender elegy by Exene Cervenka, of L.A. punk band X fame. These are DIY Star Search episodes played to one hand clapping, lasting shots from a short runway." ÏV Magazine
"...the longer you look...the more you begin to see what it took to remake yourself as a freak, as a social idiot, as someone you weren't meant to be.... soon enough, you're seeing real people everywhere." ÏGreil Marcus' Real Life Rock Top 10, Salon.com
We listed the brand new record from the crazed Northwestern party black metallers a few lists back, and were a bit surprised that more people didn't TOTALLY FREAK OUT the way we did over these guys. Could it be describing them as "party black metal"? Not a phrase we coined, or one that's even all that applicable really, especially here. Could it be the name? JonnyX And The Groadies might be a goofy name, but these are goofy guys, the music though, ANYTHING BUT. The sound of JXATG is brutal and epic and heavy and fierce and twisted, a sort of new wave black metal hybrid, WAY heavier on the black metal. In fact, when someone was playing this up front this morning, we were all trying to figure out what black metal band it was, never occurring to us, for some reason that it could be JXATG. Which should speak to the power of this crew's black crush.
TV Party collects loads of older tracks, from various splits and demos, culled from the early days of the band, and are even more raw and fierce and furious than the new record, which is saying a lot. In fact, if these guys were called Satanic Skullfuck or something and were from Norway, people would be shitting themselves, but they're not, deal with it, they're fucking called JonnyX And The Groadies and they're from the Pacific Northwest and they slay, they destroy, they brutalize. Don't believe us? Check out the sound sample for "Organ Failure", it may only be a minute long, but it's still the soundtrack to some subterranean Teutonic march, the musical accompaniment to an army of orcs destroying some ancient civilization, pounding beats, buzzing frantic riffing, shrieked demonic vox, a killer almost industrial breakdown, with some serious chugging, and a bitchin' riff. Hell every track here could be the soundtrack for some epic battle, or you know what, some CRAZY PARTY? This is raging, blasting, crusty, pounding blackened heaviness, and it utterly rules. We'd put these guys up against any of the black metal heavies, and not only could they hold their own, they'd whip out their buzzing synths and leave the grim buzzing blasters in the dust, and would probably be having a fuckload of fun while doing it. Definitely one of our favorite bands going, they should be yours too!!
It's been a while, and we've waited patiently, but finally, it's the triumphant return of JonnyX And The Groadies, longtime aQ faves, and really, how could they not be? Self christened as the world's only "party black metal" band, these guys lay down some seriously grim black riffage, some howling hellish vox, but all wrapped around programmed beats, swirling new wave synths, howled chaotic screamo, all wound into a baffling, brilliant chaotic black synth, punk wave whatthefuck. And if anything, in the last few years, these guys have gotten even better, and WEIRDER. We described them in a past review as "Drop Dead, Arcturus, Teen Cthulhu, The Locust, Agoraphobic Nosebleed, Behead The Prophet No Lord Shall Live, and Cradle Of Filth all packed into a sweaty filthy Portland Basement, playing before some strange mix of metalheads, emo kids and the walking dead!", which still pretty much applies, but these days, the blackness is way more intense, the riffing epic and frenzied, the songs super convoluted and complex, slipping from thrashing pound to inhuman blast and back again, but somehow, the new wave-ness has been cranked up too, with songs slipping into warped stretches of pulsing electronic drums, squelchy fuzzy synths, and occasional face melting blackened psychedelic blowouts of frantic guitars, screaming synths and chaotic drummachine damage, and besides all that, the songs RULE, catchy as hell, super varied and twisted and confusingly over the top. If these guys weren't from Portland, and weren't called JonnyX And The Groadies, and if they weren't one of the most awesomely motley looking crews ever, the long haired burnout glam metaller, the bearded metal lumberjack, the Dr. Jeckyll mad scientist, and of course the skeleton suited voodoo axeman, then they'd probably be oft discussed by the grim troo black metal hordes, a few championing their fucked up far out avant blackness, but most decrying their sullying of the true black traditions, so it's probably better that they exist well outside the black metal world, where they're free to twist their own peculiar brand of warped synth driven grind punk undead party synth brutal blackness into something this far out and fucked up and totally genius.
Available both as a cassette and an lp, the lp version comes with a big full color poster.
So what kind of a name is JonnyX And The Groadies anyway? Well, quite possibly the only appropriate monicker for the world's only "Party Black Metal" band. Huh? What? C'mon, you heard us. PARTY BLACK METAL. That's right. Might not sound good, at least to all you grimmer than grim blackmetalheads, but it is, in fact it's a heck of a lot more interesting than most black metal we hear these days. And actually the 'party' aspect isn't as obvious on record. Live they seem to be a serious blast, wild and goofy and explosively spastic, with pointy metal axes (as in guitars, although we imagine their might be actual axes as well) and goofy outfits and plenty of mayhem and destruction. But on record, it's all skull encrusted synths and upside down crosses, um... tight pants and foot long spikes, and, well, wild windmilling hair and white belts? The most unholy union of buzzing black metal and insanely aggro spastic screamo EVER. Grinding buzzing guitars, demonic shrieks, programmed blast beats and a thick wall of majestic keyboards. Think maybe Drop Dead, Arcturus, Teen Chtulu, The Locust, Agoraphobic Nosebleed, Behead The Prophet No Lord Shall Live, and Cradle Of Filth all packed into a sweaty filthy Portland Basement, playing before some strange mix of metalheads, emo kids and the walking dead! Huge thick blasts of grim black metal segue into fuzzy squelchy ambient synth break downs and then slip into some moody midtempo near-doom, before exploding again in a blast of barbed buzz. Awesome! Nine tracks, the first eight, brief blasts of blackness, all clocking in at under two minutes, the final track, "Unmortal", a massive 14 minute blackened synth doom juggernaut.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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Yes, that is faux-fur sprouting from this cd by Juppala Kaapio! As we mentioned before, this duo has a Finnish name and shares a Finnish freak-folk ritualism, but neither participant is Finnish. They are in fact the husband / wife pairing of Carole and Hitoshi Kojo, who bring extended technique vocals, bleary instrumentation from smoke & mirror, and lots of liquid nirvana electronic processing to the source material. Where their earlier works had 'jammed nature' along the Jewelled Antler / RV Paintings / Kemiallyset Ystavat axis with a wistful crunchiness, Rewound Groves marries the golden-summer glow of high-latitude pagan liturgy and the rapturous blur of Andrew Chalk's contributions to Organum or even some of the Taj Mahal Travellers broadcasts to nowhere. The vocals from both Hitoshi and Carole wax and wane on the opening number "Sewing Through Twigs" amongst a richly patterned undulation of glistening drones from what might be bells, might be flutes, might be guitars, might be the sparkle of twilight stars. Watery textures and backmasked tape bridges these sounds with the :zoviet*france: like haze of "Mycophiles And Pebbles" with spectral loops and holy mesmerism sprawled throughout the soft-focus layering of sound. Probably the best thing that Juppala Kaapio has released to date; and given the artwork this is justifiably limited to 123 copies. Brilliant.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Before there was irony-metal (C-Average, Godheadsilo, etc...), well not really before, but definitely pre-short-pants-white-belt-devil-sign-in-the-air-in-mock-love-of-satan-and-heavy-metal, there was Karp. Three fucked-up,
How can so much amazing rock come from such a small country?! It never ceases to amaze us! I of course am talking about Finland. Home of Circle, Keukhot, Aavikko, Ajattara, Haikara, Finntroll, Mieskuoro Huutajaat, Pan Sonic, Shape Of Despair, etc. This time
The ever-reliable Hydrahead label does it again -- though we already knew Keelhaul were good. Their other two albums of especially complex, heavy metalcore got high marks 'round these parts, and we know they absolutely kick ass live. Now they confront us with Subject To Change Without Notice. That's the title, but the only thing that's changed is that they're maybe even better. Or maybe they're referring to their modus operandi of tricky riffing and quiet/loud dynamics. Largely instrumental, super heavy, very very tight -- this is metal done right. For fans of Converge, Coalesce, Neurosis, Helmet, Mastodon...and The Gooch (one of their typically silly song titles).
As much as we think sometimes we have a real way with words, there's always somebody who totally puts us to shame, which is exactly why we're gonna start our review of this, the sixth and latest record from Finnish underground outsider rock weirdo one man band Keuhkot ('lungs' in Finnish), with a description written by Jussi of Circle, whose label Ektro released it:
"The sixth struggle album of Kake Puhuu. The combat noise and insect world music downpreaching book. Rawer than its precursors, this album strips it down to marrow and squeezes juice out of it. Keuhkot batters mindless attributes of humanity from insects' point of view by means of reverse pop music. The aim is towards backwoods motorism, meritocamping, real men, moose hunt madness and established global upstarts. The most bearded feminist of Finland, Keuhkot, kicks the real man's groin. Keuhkot makes its own ethnic fusion gadding from rhythmic highways to distorted sidepaths in a refreshed guitar oriented soundscape. You may call it freaky but according to Kake, pop music (including metal, of course) is a freaky industrialized illness that needs a vaccination � which is Keuhkot."
We definitely couldn't have said it better ourselves, but heck, why not give it a try? Longtime readers of the aQ list might remember Andee's harrowing and ultra personal private Keuhkot performance in an abandoned schoolhouse in the wilds of rural Finland (you can read more about it elsewhere on the aQ site, in one of the other Keuhkot reviews), and are quite possibly already fans of Kake Puhuu's twisted sonic world of primitive programmed drums, twisted percussion, weird samples, layered loops, warped and woozy synths, detuned guitars and warbled guttural vox, and how could you not be, Puhuu is like the underground electro minimal abstract noise rock Jandek of Finland, record after record of totally idiosyncratic, ultra personal, musical weirdness, that sonically is all over the map, be it twang flecked almost Western sounding folk, woozy crooned torch songs, junkyard percussion driven lo-fi dirge rock, stumbling hypno-prog, who knows how the heck to classify any of this, easiest to just say this is some sort of utterly singular, surreal Finnish psychedelia, equal parts the Residents, Tom Waits, Birthday Party, Cop Shoot Cop, and who knows what else, all filtered through that totally cracked Finnish sensibility that informs so much of the Finnish music we love. A little bit circusy, a LOT whatthefuck, droney, fuzzy, distorted, stumbly, we want to say this is the best Keuhkot yet, but we sort of love them all, cuz they're all great. We'd say it's the weirdest, but they're all pretty goddamn weird too. We will say the opening track "Kuuluisia Alkemisteja Vol 1", is one of the coolest jams we've heard in ages, all super blown out synth buzz, pulsing and undulating, laced with haunting disembodied vocals, but the sort of droned out abstract psych trip out we could listen to forever. Just check out the samples, and prepare yourself to be baffled and confused and totally transported to some seriously demented sonic otherworld, and Jussi did in fact say it best: Keuhkot kicks the real man's groin!
For those mourning the recent passing of creeping doom sludge lords Khanate, we've got the next best thing. In fact in some ways, it might almost be the next -better- thing. Khanate low-end technician James Plotkin suddenly jumped ship only to start up this dour little duo with Runhild Gammelsaeter, the Nordic goddess you might remember as the vocalist for bleak black/doom metal outfit Thorr's Hammer.
On first listen, Khlyst sounds remarkably like Khanate, huge sluggish low end doom, a thick glacial sludgey plod, while over the top a shrieking, impossibly guttural mewling howl, like a demon clearing her throat or a hysterical cheerleader possessed by the devil and spewing impossible foulness. But even at their most Khanate, Khlyst ends up sounding just a whole lot weirder. Instead of downtuned riffage, the guitars are twisted and processed into strange slippery licks, drenched in chorus and phaser, like some sort of alien guitar synth, sputtering and stumbling, a jagged series of noodly little six string blasts, fragmented metallic chunks, over ultra dense tangles of free jazz drum splatter, everything thick with buzzy guitars and ominous ambience. A super freaked out, utterly demented psychedelic doom sludge stretched and twisted into a sputtering spastic black buzz, pelted with bits of prog and wrapped in thick layers of damaged drone.
Elsewhere, the duo, stretch out into hauntingly blissful soundscapes constructed from processed vocals, swirling billows of reverb, echoey guitar shimmer, almost like a creepier Grouper. Drifty and hauntingly lovely. And sometimes the rhythmic furor builds into a vortex of impossibly dense drumming, over thick swaths of low end drone, with growling panting Diamanda-like vocalisations struggle breathlessly over the top. Like some sort of demonic sludge jazz drum solo torture session.
Imagine weirdo black metallers Rehtaf Ruo crossed with UK doomlords Moss, featuring Buddy Rich and Rashied Ali on dueling drums, and a vocalist one part Bathtub Shitter, one part Kevin Sharp from Brutal Truth and one part Dani Filth from Cradle Of Filth, the whole thing recorded by Lustmord.
Bleak and blackened, squirming and slithery, shivering and stumbling. An epic and deranged slab of ultra-ambient-doom-prog-drone-sludge splendor.
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2 blasts of no-wave/new-wave from these 3 San Diego transplants who are an instrumental part of the whole San Diego new/no wave scene. Really arty and heartrenching. Kind of similar to Xiu Xiu (see AQ lists #133 and #145), who they play with often. Live they have this circular bench full of effect pedals and drum machines that has one band member hunched over like a mad scientist as he tweaks and contorts the sound. This record had Andee running around the store singing (in his best Nick Cave/Peter Murphy voice) "I've got rats for sale!! I'VE GOT RATS FOR SALE!!!!"
This is it, far as I'm concerned. The only record I think tops the mighty Pig Destroyer's masterpiece "Terrifyer" this year. This is absolute technical grind perfection, and one of the fastest and most intense 15 minutes of music ever committed to tape. No song on here breaks the hundred-second mark and yet you feel utterly beaten by disc's end -- the pace is relentless, the riffs ever-changing and the intensity exhausting as this Texas quartet blaze through 11 tracks of politically-charged grind. Imagine a cross between the manic controlled chaos of classic Brutal Truth and the technical off-time wizardry of Cryptopsy and then speed everything up tenfold and you're beginning to approach the full-on assault that this band delivers.
Individual playing is just stunning here -- the singer is positively monstrous, sounding like a dead ringer for Brutal Truth's Kevin Sharp and espousing refreshingly thoughtful and original political lyrics on such topics as the Russian mafia, economics, JFK conspiracy theories and even food dyes. The guitars are razor-sharp -- it makes sense that Jody of criminally-underrated tech-metal juggernauts Kalibas was in the band for a while -- both bands demand a proficiency from their players that belie the simplicity usually associated with genre. And then there's the drumming! You knew this was coming -- this guy is fucking insane! Some of the fastest playing ever. On some songs, the blast beat is the SLOW part, I shit you not. For anyone even remotely interested in metal and grind, I simply can not recommend this record enough. Once you allow the wash of noise to bury you into submission, there's a good amount of complexity and memorable moments to wrap your head around. But really the music presented here far surpasses the constraints of the usual metal and grind conventions and summates to a sublime aural ferocity that pushes the very limits of human playing abilities. Yes, it's that good.
Killing Joke's self-titled tour de force in 2003 left us breathless, electrified, floored. The intent and precision of that musical attack was mighty, and the impact was pronounced on mind, body and spirit. Their last album Hosannas From The Basement Of Hell as well as this one are similar in their unwavering address of universal crises, but they have more of a live performance feel. Absolute Dissent is definitely more raw and punk a la early Killing Joke... not surprising though since it features the band's original line-up - Jaz Coleman, Geordie Walker, Paul Ferguson and Youth! A sludgey bassy roar rumbles through each song while Walker's trademark eviscerating guitar and Coleman's raging vocals slash their way to your ears. Pretty much anything this 32 year old band does can easily lay to waste most of the current hard rock, metal, punk, hardcore, you name it. The band's sound remains unmistakable and imposing, still vital and volatile all these years later, due largely to Coleman and Walker. Check out the propulsion of "Fresh Fever From The Sky" or the metallic firepower of "This World Hell". The second to last song "Here Comes The Singularity" hits the punk-pop nail on the head. Ultra catchy, but unlike the hooky yet inert anthems of current young bands of that genre, theirs actually present potent ideas with thought-provoking lyrics. That said, the album's seemingly most anomalous song, the slower, haunting "The Raven King" is also its highlight, calling to mind the atmospheric modern rock of Muse, Radiohead or newer Cave-In even. A grand lament! All hail Killing Joke!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
"The Unperverted Pantomime?" is a hodge-podge of some of the earliest Killing Joke recordings from the late '70s and early '80s. At that time, the band walked a similar post-punk path as Gang of Four and Public Image Limited, with discordant guitars crashing against a mutant dub rhythm section. Those who heard their early masterpiece "Turn To Red" on the "Wild Dub: Dread Meets Punk Rocker" compilation should know what to expect from these cuts, which include a bunch of early singles, a few radio session pieces, and some live recordings. None of these tracks have appeared on CD before. Unfortunately, neither the sound quality nor the performances of the live cuts are terribly good. Oh well. "The Unperverted Pantomine?" paints early Killing Joke as a fantastic studio band, and a less than ideal stage act. Overall, their new self-titled full length is a much more prime example of the incredibly blistering, volatile music of which this band is capable.
When we first heard about this band we though they were called Kill WHITEY Dead which seemed like a pretty provocative name. And initially when we realized it was actually Killwhitneydead, we were a little bummed. Yet another stupid band name. But after listening to this record, a furious grind metal hate letter, presumably to a woman named Whitney, it all makes sense. The fury and bile of a man scorned, channelled into one of the meanest heaviest records we've heard in a while.
Imagine one of the best metal/grind bands you've ever heard, unbelievably complex, stop start arrangements, weird Iron Maiden-y guitar melodies, huge chugging riffery, with totally almost black metallish demonic vocals, and blasts of grinding melodic hard rock, leads all over the place, almost like some eighties metal band strapped into the electric chair and supercharged into a flesh eating, city destroying grind metal monster. Then imagine a second vocalist, who isn't a vocalist at all but a sampler spitting out clips from every violent / weird / cool movie from the last 20 years. But not just like samples over music, KWD take samples and literally use them like another vocalist, with the music edited and the songs written and arranged around the movie clips. It's been done in the past, but never so perfectly. Misanthropic, and pummelling and chillingly hateful. If I was Whitney I'd actually be pretty flattered that I was able to illicit the kind of passion it must have taken to birth this kind of musical monster. The clips are from Unfaithful, Buffalo 66, Harry Potter, Platoon, Wall Street, Black Rain, Natural Born Killers, Se7en, Lord Of The Rings, Memento, Aliens, Road To Perdition, The Longest Yard, House Of 1000 Corpses, Kiss The Girls, The Crow, Tenacious D, The Breakfast Club, The Usual Suspects and about a million more.
The insane thing is they actually list them all and got permission to use every single one of them. Wow.
Wow! An amazingly weird Swedish new wave punk band that burned bright for one short year way back in 1980. Kitchen & The Plastic Spoons were herky jerky, full of demented pep and enough deranged energy to make themselves a seriously freaked out and super unique proposition. Sort of how we always wished new wave sounded, not overly polished but instead kind of demented and mad in all the right ways. Like The Pop Group and the Dead Kennedys all mixed up with Siouxsie and Johnny Lydon taking turns on vocals. As much as this makes us think of some of the more well known (relatively) bands of the era like The Slits, Raincoats, Au Pairs, Liliput and Maximum Joy, there is something so singular and unique about Kitchen And The Plastic Spoons that makes it kind of surprising that this i the first time these tracks have been dug up in almost 30 years. It's amazing how vibrant and timely this still sounds. It's hard not to imagine that bands like Erase Errata had somehoww gotten their hands on one of the few hundred original lp's and used it as a sort of template or inspiration. With all the hype in recent years over lost punk reissues from the likes of The Homosexuals, Crime and The Metal Boys this might just take the cake for a long overdue rediscovery of a truly weird punk classic!
Not one, but two new(ish) singles from this Aussie post punk downer pop combo, whose Siltbreeze lp we flipped for a while back, and ever since have been on a mission to find as much KF as we can, so up first, is the awesomely titled "Deadshits", which finds the band in a seriously weird and seriously stripped down mood/mode, getting all Jandek-y, with urgently strummed acoustic guitar, primitive drumming, warped percussion, distorted vocal warble, and on the opener, a demented sounding falsetto chorus, the whole thing unwinds like some brain damaged outsider bedroom 4-track pop, although in places, like on "Left", the band get a bit more melodic, adding some female vocals, sounding a bit like a super minimal Eric's Trip, still super spare and mostly acoustic but a bit more melodic and poppy, the whole record has a serious early Flying Nun /Xpressway outsider indie jangle vibe to it, which was present to a lesser degree on the full length proper.
On Regrets, the band drifts a bit closer to the sound of the Siltbreeze lp, still pretty lo-fi, but with buzzy gnarled guitars, stumbling trashcan drumming, wild squalls of psychedelic leads, and the vocals buried in the mix, a bit more punk than Deadshits, but not nearly as poppy and polished as the full length, but hidden amidst all the stumbling pound and atonal guitar noise, is some seriously dreamy gloom pop, and minor key jangle, culminating with closer "Still Night", which adds deep dramatic vox, much higher in the mix, a primitive druggy drone pop that somehow still hits the spot. Both are probably crazy limited, as things like these usually are...
Not one, but two new(ish) singles from this Aussie post punk downer pop combo, whose Siltbreeze lp we flipped for a while back, and ever since have been on a mission to find as much KF as we can, so up first, is the awesomely titled "Deadshits", which finds the band in a seriously weird and seriously stripped down mood/mode, getting all Jandek-y, with urgently strummed acoustic guitar, primitive drumming, warped percussion, distorted vocal warble, and on the opener, a demented sounding falsetto chorus, the whole thing unwinds like some brain damaged outsider bedroom 4-track pop, although in places, like on "Left", the band get a bit more melodic, adding some female vocals, sounding a bit like a super minimal Eric's Trip, still super spare and mostly acoustic but a bit more melodic and poppy, the whole record has a serious early Flying Nun /Xpressway outsider indie jangle vibe to it, which was present to a lesser degree on the full length proper.
On Regrets, the band drifts a bit closer to the sound of the Siltbreeze lp, still pretty lo-fi, but with buzzy gnarled guitars, stumbling trashcan drumming, wild squalls of psychedelic leads, and the vocals buried in the mix, a bit more punk than Deadshits, but not nearly as poppy and polished as the full length, but hidden amidst all the stumbling pound and atonal guitar noise, is some seriously dreamy gloom pop, and minor key jangle, culminating with closer "Still Night", which adds deep dramatic vox, much higher in the mix, a primitive druggy drone pop that somehow still hits the spot. Both are probably crazy limited, as things like these usually are...
While they were only an active band for a few years, the legacy and impact of Kleenex's (later Liliput's) music is immeasurable. Along with their peers The Slits and Raincoats, they helped spearhead female fueled post-punk. Raw, angular catchy and free from any kind of commercial gloss. Their sound was the blueprint for the riot grrl scene that would be born a decade later, with bands like Bikini Kill, Excuse 17 and Team Dresch all most definitely inspired by the amazing and uncompromising sounds this Swiss band conjured up way back in the day. Kill Rock Stars (home to many of the best of the '90s riot grrl scene) do a great job in going back to the true source of much of the label's inspiration in releasing this loving cd/dvd collection. The music portion is all from live recordings, demonstrating how stripped down, and full of fiery energy these ladies were. While we're not usually a huge fan of live records, this one makes total sense. It's not as if their studio records were recorded with much, if any budget, so hearing them live actually seems like the most proper way to enjoy their already raw infectious sounds. What made them so cool was that there was a nice variety to their sound, they could go from being really fast and punk sounding one moment to bouncy and poppy the next, and underneath their scrappy aesthetic they always managed to infuse their sound with awesome melodies.
The list of bands they have influenced could go on and on. From the aforementioned leading ladies of the riot girl scene to folks like Erase Errata, Wetdog, Dog Faced Hermans, Silver Daggers, Brilliant Colors, Electrelane, Klang, Slant 6, Deerhoof, etc.!
The dvd features really cool footage from them on tour, all shot in super 8 which makes the visuals as raw and impactful as the sounds...
First record we've reviewed from these Portland crushers (who count a member of aQ faves L'Acephale among their ranks), whose sound has changed dramatically over the last 4 years and 3 full lengths, having started life as something much more noisy and chaotic, initially some sort of twisted power electronic / grindcore combo, their sound blackened considerably, their music growing more and more dense and darkly metallic, arriving here, at Tresspass, where they have essentially made the transition to full on black metal band, but what makes these guys so good, and this record so compelling, is that it's informed by that transformation, for all the black buzz, and gnarled riffing, there are gouts of grinding fury, or weird stretches of processed vocals sounding like a symphony of gurgles. In some ways they're like a more punk rock Deathspell Omega, they have a similarly dense sound, and a similar knack for creating lush blackened crush from multiple layers of droned out guitars, tangled riffage, and impossibly chaotic drumming.
Even at their blackest, their punk roots show through, whether it's a barrage of squealing pick slides, or some serious punked out D-beat pound, the guttural vocals more death metal, but again, it just adds another cool element to their already wildly hybridized sound. Relentless and furious, the production MASSIVE, the sound epic and crushingly brutal, downtuned and HEAVY, the tracks occasionally splintering into droned out doom, or blurry stretches of rumble and thrum, or crumbling industrial blurscapes, but just as often exploding into wild gouts of metalpunk chaos, before slipping right back into another blast of grinding blackbuzz churn.
Super swank gatefold sleeves, with printed cardstock insert.
We get so much stuff to listen to. Literally hundreds of cds and lps and tapes every month. We do our best to listen to everything. And many all time AQ faves and big sellers came from the piles and piles of stuff folks send in. But every once in a while, we come across something that's been sitting forever, for ages, we finally listen to it and are blown the fuck away! In cases such as those we do our best to get in touch with the band or label and order a bunch for the store. Often they don't even remember sending them, but are psyched that we're finally ordering some. As much as we're psyched to be listing it, and probably kicking ourselves for waiting so long to discover it.
But in some cases, it's been so long, that maybe the piece of paper or the note that came with the records has disappeared or gotten lost, and then we end up digging around on the internet trying to track them down so we can get them for you all to check out. Lucky for us, the guys in Kobayashi took it upon themselves to send us a whole stack of their 7"s (not recommended generally by the way), however that was months and months ago and it was only a few days ago that we finally checked it out, and whattayaknow, it's pretty goddamn great. So if you're in the band, drop us a line! If you're not, by all means pick up one of these killer chunks of obtuse metallic grind.
The sound is tough to describe, it's definitely grindcore, classic sounding for sure, but with lots of slow dirgey bits, chunks of doom, weird angular riffing, spastic rhythms, jagged guitars, dual shrieking vocals, short and sharp, but not always fast and furious, sometimes just gnarled and chunky, but laced with bursts of furious buzz, chunks of churning low end, lurching tempos, and occasional blast beats. There's a bit of powerviolence, a bit of grind, some crustiness for sure, and a whole lot of metal, all tangled up into a pretty serious slab of grinding atonal, freaked out brutality. The packaging is amazing too. It's a picture disc, housed in a thick red vinyl sleeve, one side is the song titles over little black blocks, the other side a man's head, but pull the disc out, and the blocks turn into letters, the lyrics to the songs, and the man's head removed from the sleeve suddenly reveals the skeleton beneath the skin. A sort of 3-D style red and blue disappearing ink thing. Plus the band members have names like Tommyknocker and Ziggy Starfuck, and are credited with instruments like sticks of fatality, screams of brainstrain, frantic rhythms and immortal throat. What's not to love? Pretty cool stuff.
There are three types of folks who will want one of these. Fans of the Brainbombs, which makes sense, considering the fact that Krig I Hudik includes two of Brainbombs amongst their ranks. Or fans of classic Finnish punk, as in anyone who bought that rad Finnish Punk boxset we listed a while back, or anyone super into bands like Totalitar (who coincidentally also count some Brainbombs as members), and of course, the folks who are both. Which we would guess is a lot of you.
Krig I Hudak jam 10 tracks onto this 7", a head caving, ear splitting barrage of snarling, crusty, pounding, thrashing, late seventies / early eighties style Finnish punk rock, blown out and heavy, practice space drums buried in a haze of crunchy riffs and bellowed vocals (even some strange chant-like backup vox now and again), super hooky and anthemic, raw and intense and totally kick ass, from midtempo grind, to frenzied chaotic thrashing, the majority of these tracks are in fact covers of super obscure punk rock bands from back in the day, who hail from the same hometown as Krig I Hudik, although two are originals, but you might not ever know it.
Folks looking for purely misanthropic dirgey sludge, a la the Brainbombs, might be a bit disappointed, but for the rest of you, in the market for some bad ass blasting punk rock, and filthy furious Finnish crush, this shit is unbeatable.
Super swank sleeves, printed inserts with lyrics, LIMITED TO 500 copies, seemingly already out of print at the label!
We're flipping out a little over this new Memorandum label, a reissue label dedicated to an era of Australian underground rock that we've been obsessed with for years, Lubricated Goat, King Snake Roost, Grong Grong (reviewed elsewhere on this week's list), the Hard-Ons, the Triffids, Radio Birdman, the list goes on.
We had never actually heard the Kryptonics before, but did know that members of the Kryptonics went on to play in Radio Birdman, the Hard-Ons, and most exciting for us, Lubricated Goat! But the sound of the Kryptonics was not nearly as noisy or punk, they were more a sort of garage pop combo, who listening to this now definitely remind us of the Hoodoo Gurus, or the Lime Spiders, albeit a bit more raw and rough around the edges. But holy crap could these guys write songs, a bunch of the tracks here are incredible and sound like could have been / should have been hits, in fact the whole first disc is pretty much super catchy, super rocking, kick ass punk pop through and through, so much so that a bunch of these sound like we MUST have heard them before. The second disc is mostly live and odds and ends, but live these guys definitely kicked ass, and there's an awesome cover of The Only Ones' "Another Girl, Another Planet"!
Comes with a massive booklet, tons of liner notes, photos, flyers, etc. Anyone into garage rock of ANY stripe will definitely dig this stuff if they're not familiar with these guys already, and for anyone into the new breed of garage rockers, and noise poppers, check out the Kryptonics, even if it's just to realize that the NEW sound is not nearly so new after all...
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Totally brutal, Chicago powerviolence ala Spazz, Drop Dead, etc...These kids know how to thrash with the best of em though. Short blazing, grinding, pounding furious grindcore. Excellent.
It was beginning to get pretty ridiculous, for ages we were hearing all about this band, how great they were, reading about them in metal mags, hearing other metal bands rave about them, much talk of how amazing their record was, appearances in top ten lists, pictures of the super striking John Baizley cover art everywhere, even beginnings of a backlash on the blogs about how overhyped they were, but the only problem was, you couldn't find the record ANYWHERE! At least in the US, we spent months and months, trying every metal distro, every non metal distro, we had just about given up, when voila, it finally got picked up and released domestically, with a whole mess of bonus tracks to boot. So was the wait worth it? Does Kvelertak live up to the hype?
Well, yeah, actually it was. This stuff IS pretty awesome, and bizarre, a weird blend of blasting black metal and D-beat cock-rock Turbonegro style over the top rock. Just have a listen to the opening track, which explodes in a frenzy of buzz and blast and shriek, only to switch gears into a way more groovy heavy metal punk pound, the shrieked vocals the only thing keeping it from going full Turbonegro. In fact, the NON black metal parts kind of sound like a supercharged Hellacopters, which is not at all a bad thing. And the sound is epic, the production massive, the energy through the roof.
But it's that sort of heavy rock groove thing, that might deter lots of the more true and kvlt metalheads. "Mjod" is all pounding pianos and tamborines, and big rock riffage, epic and swinging, that Hellacopters vibe huge, and the vocals are shrieky, not counting the deep bellowed gang vocals on the chorus, there's even a little acoustic guitar break, and then suddenly, a stretch of blasting black metal, which slips right back into the soaring cock rocky chorus. And so it goes. Hard to tell if these guys are black metallers indulging their inner KISS (or Turbonegro, or Hellacopters, or...), or if it's just some heavy rockers who toss in a blast here and there or a little tremlo picking to add some cult cred. Cuz it is a weird mix, and it doesn't always flow so smoothly, but we're digging it a lot, and if anything, it sounds like these guys probably KILL live. And that definitely comes across here big time.
