The third cd long-player to come from these local sharp-dressed rock and roll revivalists about town, The Cuts. Yay! Every time we've seen 'em play, they've been great -- but just a little bit different from the last time. At one gig they'll come across all Cars-y, keyboards to the fore. The next, it's guitar-heavy rawkin' with an early '70s Alice Cooper vibe. Ya never know quite what to expect, except that they're always impressive and a real authentic rock n' roll good time. Just like this album. We dug albums one and two, but number three might be the best yet. It's like some amazing power pop band from the early '70s that you somehow never heard of, whose album just got reissued and makes you go, wow, they just don't make 'em like they used to. But they do, and The Cuts are doin' it. From Here On Out sees them honing their craft (and they ARE careful craftsmen, with so much attention to songwritiing, arrangement, and performance), doing their influences proud, from '60s garage to west coast ballroom psych to new wave pop. There's out-and-out guitar rock action here as well as lovely, pretty pop moves too, with vocal harmonies and all. Recommended.
Elsewhere on this week's list you'll find the brand new album Spirit Animal, by AQ faves Zombi, the horror soundtrack obsessed synth/math rock duo from Pittsburgh. So it's kind of perfect to list this too, a reissued, mostly instrumental, extremely electronic prog rock album from 1980 by Australia's Cybotron, a band who were basically the Zombi of their day, Down Under. Seriously, if the Zombi dudes are reading this, you're just the folks to whom we'd recommend this - you gotta hear it! Same goes for Zombi fans.
This Cybotron, who are not to be confused with the seminal Detroit electro act of the very same name, were a massively synth-crazed space rock act, making music full of sweeping sci-fi synth sounds, propulsive beats, vibratory pulsations, and krautrocky electronic atmospheres, eventually venturing into a proto New Wave synthpop zone too. Band leader Steve Maxwell Von Braund had spent some time in Europe in the early '70s, checking out the freak rock scene, going to see bands like Pink Floyd, Hawkwind, Can and Amon Duul II, whilst buying crucial krautrock records as they came out, getting into stuff by Tangerine Dream and Ash Ra Tempel among others. Once back in Australia he soon formed Cybotron, which started off as an experimental electronics duo, but built up into a more prog rock oriented, symphonic sounding enterprise, reaching its peak on Implosion, their third and final album as a band. We'd love to hear their earlier ones, and also Von Braund's pre-Cybotron all-electronic solo record Monster Planet (which must be pretty cool if we can judge it by the cover reproduced in this cd's booklet).
The album under discussion, Implosion, definitely displays loads of influence from the '70s German kosmische krautrock artists that Von Braund and Co. enjoyed. The title track in particular, with its melodic, happy synth motifs frolicking amidst plodding, ominous rhythms and darker, dronier electronics, is VERY Cluster / Harmonia sounding. With more than a hint of John Carpenter too as it progresses, as does much of the rest of this album. Elsewhere it's easy to draw comparisons to the likes of Tangerine Dream and Novalis, as well as to contemporaneous French bands such as Heldon and Lard Free. "Black Devil's Triangle", at about 10 minutes long, is the album's most epic and mesmerizing space voyage, kind of like something by Klaus Schulze but with an added exotic, Eastern flavor to it, via squiggly synth melodies that at moments actually remind us of the music from the video game Rastan that we have here in the store. So good.
FYI, as a warning to the unyieldingly sax-adverse, there's some saxophone on the track "Encounter", which gives it more of a jazzy, '70s cop show groove. The sax returns again on "We'll Be Around", appearing along with handclaps and the rare instance of some vocoder processed chanting vocals. It's an oddly, enjoyably poppy finale to the Implosion album proper. They even released those two songs as a 7" single, which didn't exactly make the charts.
Things get perhaps a bit quirkier later in the disc, as we get into a slew of bonus tracks that's mostly material from a never-completed, more commercial follow-up to Implosion, tracks that are a bit more novelty-esque, like a New Wave take on Perry & Kingsley. We're also reminded of Art Of Noise - in fact, Cybotron do a cover of Henry Mancini's "Peter Gunn" (also known to the video arcade generation as the theme to "Spy Hunter" game) which was also covered by the Art Of Noise later in the '80s if we recall correctly. Fun stuff if not exactly "kosmiche". However, the last bonus track is probably the HEAVIEST thing on here, a beefed-up "guitar version" of the already killer opening track "Eureka". Obscure krautrock reference that this track vaguely reminds us of: My Solid Ground.
As with most Aztec releases, this is a fairly swanky digpack with extensive liner notes, the cd booklet also fully illustrated with vintage photos and full-color graphics.
This disc has quickly become one of Andee and Allan's most played. After getting over the initial surprise of absolutely *loving* a super commercial MTV style heavy rock band, one can enjoy what is in our opinion a totally great record. Definitely hyper produced, too heavy to be totally mainstream "alternative", but too poppy to be a metal record, it just pushes all the right buttons. Sounding a bit like a more metallic Smashing Pumpkins, or a smoother, non-rap Rage Against the Machine, but with what sounds like GEDDY LEE FROM RUSH ON VOCALS!!. So great. Totally kick ass, totally catchy. It's a crying shame that these guys are major-label also-rans when they are as good or even better than the above mentioned bands. The sound, the look (hottie alt-hunk lead vocalist with dyed red hair and no shirt!) -- they should be huge. Must be the totally stupid album cover. Maybe a guilty pleasure, but a pleasure nonetheless.
Cylob's new three-track single has caused a bit of a stir here at AQ. Not 'cause of the title track, a catchy electronic pop-dance ditty a little safer than similar efforts from Aphex and Squarepusher ("My Red Hot Car" comes to mind, but this is less edgy, more
Ah-ha! The first D.A.F. record! And boy, was it quite a surprise to hear this one. D.A.F. began in 1978 as a post-krautrock outfit from Dusseldorf, with Robert Gorl, Kurt "Pyrolator" Dahlke, Wolfgang Spelmans, Michael Kemner, and Gabi Delgado originally calling themselves You; but with another German band snatching up the name and releasing the mighty fine album Electric Day in the same year, they decided upon Deutsch-Amerikanischen Freundschaft as the new name. A couple of band members were not all too pleased with Gabi Delgado's vocals and lyrics, and he was promptly sacked after their first attempt in the studio. Delgado returned to the band a year later when a few of his detractors left, and he became the iconic frontman for the stripped down D.A.F. with Robert Gorl. That incarnation of D.A.F. spawned an aggressive synth-punk sound that dominated the more abrasive side of new wave throughout the '80s; but this instrumental, motorik album is an entirely different beast. While electronics do make some interesting punctuations to the D.A.F. sound, they were fundamentally a damaged art-rock band with a rhythm section well versed in the classic Can, Neu!, and early Kraftwerk records from earlier in the decade, but they also exploded with slashing guitars, pummelling basslines, and an aggressive angularity that responded to the American contemporaries like DNA and Pere Ubu. Could this influence from American degenerate art-rock be an explanation for the name of the band? In any case, threads of this first D.A.F. record certainly look forward to the likes of Sonic Youth and Circle. The album is a collection of 22 untitled extracts from what seemed to be an exhausting recording session of constantly accelerating rhythmic marches with jagged-toothed guitar riffs that get pretty heavy and churning at times (even reminding us of instru-metallers Gore!), with plenty of interludes of amplifier feedback and spark-plug noise bursts. Part krautrock, part no-wave and new-wave, all rad. Not what we would have expected from their first album, but this is totally an excellent record!
Aquarius Records is proud to present the newest in field recording fuckery: "Daddy's Curses". The disc is exactly as the title implies, a recording of someone's father cussing his brains out. Apparently, in 1987, someone by the name of Ethan Perry
Doth our ears deceive us? Have we been hurtled screaming backwards across the astral plane to the mythical hard rock glory age? To a time spoken of only in forgotten whispers and ancient half recalled prophecy?? An age mortal man knows only as... 1978??? Well, if track 6 on this mystical Swedish rocker of an album is anything to go by, which is LITERALLY called "1978" and references the album titles of at least 11 classic hard rock lp that came out that same year (sample line: "We wanted blood, and we got it for sure / Alive and dangerous, coming back for more!"), then yeah I think it's safe to say aQ HQ has been transformed into some sort of space-time hopping heavy metal Tardis.
But let's back up a bit here. Who are these Nordic axe warriors, striding forth from the mists in their flared jeans and denim shirts embroidered with moons and stars (we assume anyway)? Well, surprisingly The Dagger is a Swedish death metal supergroup of sorts! Featuring past and present members of such grave gurgling stalwarts as Grave, Dismember and Nifelheim. But instead of decrepit blast beats & grinding death dirges, this album is chockfull of the kind of late '70s / early '80s hard rockin' heavy metal that we absolutely eat up here at aQuarius. It's pretty heavy on the homage to be sure, but it's done so well and with such genuine joy and enthusiasm that we don't mind one bit. Not to mention The Dagger's reference points build on a hard rock legacy that seldom gets its due from modern bands. As much we love doom metal around here, we'll be the first to admit it can be sort of hard to get excited about a band regurgitating the same Black Sabbath riffs and Ozzy aping vox unless it's done really exceptionally well. But when a band like The Dagger shows up instead sounding almost exactly like some sort of mash up of NWOBHM, early Scorpions, '80s Sabbath, solo Dio and especially '70s Deep Purple/Rainbow (there's even a song called "Skygazer"... hmm... more than a little similar to Rainbow's "Stargazer", eh?!), we're gonna immediately stand up and take notice! This is thing is bursting with Blackmore-ian minstrel harmonies and Uli-esque mystical swaying grooves. Vocalist Jani Kataja is almost a dead ringer for Ian Gillan (which is no small feat!), his strained, bluesy wail lending the songs a serious timeless world weariness, even at the most up tempo of times of which there are plenty. There's swirling Hammond organ, there's talk of "dark gypsy women", there's boogie-woogie numbers, there's Judas Priest style fist pumpers, there's crumbling doomy groovers, hell there's even a Quartz cover, "Mainline Riders"! In short, it's a rusted cauldron bubbling over with everything great about '70s dragon rock. Is it terribly original? Maybe not. But are you gonna find another band that sounds like The Dagger any time soon? Not from this decade you ain't. Recommended.
Fela Kuti lovers take note! This is one of the best post-Fela Kuti inspired Afro beat records of the last decade for sure. Originally released in '98 just a year after Fela passed away, this was sadly the one and only album released by The Daktaris. Melding Afro beat, soul and funk with total perfection these are songs that make you walk with better posture and with total purpose. They pay homage to their heroes with amazing renditions of James Brown's "Give It Up Turnit Loose" as well as the aforementioned Fela Kuti's "Upside Down." Like Antibalas this was a group carrying the flame that Fela lit with total devotion and a commitment to his spirit. Polyrhythms that will make your body shake, your heart race, and you'll be smiling all over. Good stuff!
It's not really all that much fun writing a review of this new Danava album. What's fun is listening to it, turned up loud... and maybe getting buzzed on a substance of choice whilst doing so. Whoo-hoo! Granted, that's the case with lots of albums, classics like say Deep Purple In Rock or Alice Cooper's Love It To Death. The kind that require, nay inspire, such behavior. Those, though, weren't just released, but this was, so all the more an occasion for drunken loud listening. They don't make 'em like this all that often anymore, so kudos to Kemado for bringing us the real deal (ironic, isn't it). Though its exactly what we've come to expect from Portland psych-prog-stoner rockers Danava, and are happy to hear once again.
Since the time we checked in with these boys, they've undergone some lineup changes. They now rock to the beat of a different drummer, for one thing. And the guy who only played synths is gone now... but in his stead, way better yet, they've added a 2nd guitarist for extra twin axe attackin', so that's a win. The bassist and the singin' lead guitarist are the same, and that's what really matters in this band, those dudes. They slay.
Needless (at this point) to say, this new album is a killer, replete from the very get-go with rollicking, riff-rockin' badassery. These new Danava jams are seriously being kicked, way out. And they're, y'know, real songs too, with real vocals and everythin', like it's back in 1973 or so and they've got something to prove, those twin guitars givin' with the glorious harmonies (think Thin Lizzy, on the song "I Am The Skull" here especially). They sound like old time Pentagram too, but galloping like they wuz in the Preakness. The Preakness of freakness. Danava are doin' it, here. They're gonna out rock, out prog, out psych, out retro-proto-metal all comers. Speedy and sinuous, no doubt a bit of stress on all the wrists and necks involved in the making of this music. And there's still the usual embellishments of spacey synthy FX sprinkled about, even with that one guy gone. It's all almost a bit overwhelming, which is why it's nice that the very last track, the instrumental "Dying Into The Light" winds things up on a calming, eerily pretty note. Whew...
And, it should be noted that they further pay tribute to their '70s forebears by covering a song, "The Last Goodbye", by obscure UK blooze bashers Slowbone, not that you'd think it wasn't one of their own.
So, yep, getting ripped and listening to these guys rip (rollercoaster style, like they do) is of course way better than writing or reading this review. The response should be obvious. We, or well at least one of us anyway, is gonna kick back and crank this right now. You, should buy a copy and do the same as soon as you can.
By the way, all that drink/drug stuff is meant metaphorically, for all we know the guys in Danava, and their intended listening audience, are super straight edge, not stoners, let alone beer drinkers and hell raisers - though we doubt it.
A rockin' return (of course!) from Portland's finest, the mighty Danava. Retro stoner rock melodic metallic garage prog psych heaviness. Whew that's a mouthful. What did we say about 'em when reviewing their recent 7"? "A band whose ripping '70s style metallic power trio action is augmented by a dusting of trippy space rock synthesizer soundz from fourth member Rockwell."
The deal with Danava is that, bottom line, they rip. Metal or indie or retro or hipster or whatever, we don't really care, we just know that they obviously love the same sort of '70s prog excess we dig (a la Sabbath's Sabotage), with flamboyant keyboard flourishes (check out the last minute of "Where Beauty And Terror Dance" ferinstance), write actual songs, sing 'em too, and totally kick ass live. Maybe that's not much to ask from a band, but these days, such real deal rock n' roll acts are few and far between. Likewise with kick ass albums like this one. Who else might we cite? Birds Of Avalon are one of 'em. Also recent Danava tour mates Witchcraft. And Oakland's Drunk Horse (imagine them in cahoots with SF's Crime In Choir perhaps, to approach the boogie prog shred you get with Danava).
Unonou brings fans another seven songs sprung from the bulging collective Danava forehead, in the manner to which we have become accustomed. Which means, they feature virtuosic guitar (and bass) solo action, frenzied drumming, Ozzish vocals (very much so, up to and including some snippets of the lyrics), and the aforementioned eccentric electronic embellishments. Plus, this time 'round, there's a frickin' horn section throwing down in several songs! The album ends with the 13+ minute "Mind Gone Separate Ways", wherein the band manage to kick out the jams whilst making melodic space rock fusion, wow. Yep Unonou has got its share of sinister moodiness and spaceouts but consists mostly of REALLY energetic rollercoaster, uh, rippage (to use that term once more). Danava's '70s era references/influences would seem to include proggy Black Sabbath, early Blue Oyster Cult, lashings of Gobin (like the disco-ish groove that starts off "The Emerald Snow Of Sleep"), very early Alice Cooper, maybe even Jobraith... If that sounds good to you, get this, and definitely don't miss 'em live whenever that chance presents itself.
(Vinyl coming soon, btw.)
A few months back, we listed a one-sided, one-song 12" vinyl record that was a teaser for this, the debut album from Portland, Oregon's magnificent Danava, an eagerly awaited release 'round here for sure. And so we'll pretty much recap a bunch of what we said in the review of that 12", which featured their epic tune "Quiet Babies Astray In A Manger", also found on this disc: we first heard this stoner-garage-prog-metal combo on the Invaders comp of happenin' hipster heavy psych metal that the Kemado label released earlier this year. Their track was one of several highlights on that collection. We went to go see 'em when they played in Oakland with Parchman Farm not too long ago, and even more recently in The City when they were supposed to be opening for Witchcraft, and in both instances the Danava boys SLAYED, shredded, and (incidentally to the music) were all really skinny. Awesome band. Basically a rollicking, rippin' power trio with extra psychedelic embellishments from keyboards and electronics. If we were a label, we'd have signed 'em in an instant, and that's what Kemado wisely did some time ago. This resultant product comes close to capturing the excitement of their live show, while revealing other aspects we didn't hear whilst headbanging. It's got a reworking of their killer tune "By The Mark" from the Invaders comp, plus the aforementioned 12" track, and three others that are equally masterful, like "Eyes In Disguise" (hearing a hint of Black Sabbath in the vocal line on that one). When the fleet-fingered guitarist gets goin', and when the drummer and bassist lock in, Danava build to pure, amped up, enthused rocka rolla ecstasy and almost could just as well be a totally instrumental band and get away with it, but they have the bonus of actual decent singing capability and vocal hooks as well. Recommended if you like to rock.
Look past the garish, whooah-I'm-trippin'-now psychedelic cover art of Dark Fog's Cosmic Tone and you'll find a quite moody and marvellous and, yes, psychedelic debut album from this Chicago-land band, who've loaded up on trippy guitar effects and super spaced-out vocals to produce this hypnotic 33 minute dose of stoner/psych shoegazer bliss. Some parts are hushed and mellow, others Deetroit drivin', chugging along with nods to Pink Floyd, Spacemen Three, and Hawkwind... we'd also compare these guys favorably to such contemporary comrades-in-arms as Pharaoh Overlord, Acid Mothers Temple, and Dead Meadow. It's heavy (in that "heavy, maaan" way that we differentiate from, like, doom metal heaviness, such as that practiced by labelmates Buried At Sea), with lot of fuzz and drone but definitely also has a lighter, melodic side that makes this swirling dark fog seem rather welcoming, more fragrant than miasmic, redolent of aromatic smoke and suffused with a gentle glow. Recommended.
Odd and obscure '80s heavy metal alert!! If that got your attention, you may remember that not too long ago we reviewed a disc by a band called Black Hole, '80s Italian metallers who were all spaced-out and psychedelic, like some strange mix of Jacula and Voivod. In that review, we made mention of one of their contemporaries, a band by the name of Dark Quarterer, whose debut album from 1985 is to be found on this slipcased cd reissue. We were pretty stoked to find a supplier for these and grabbed a bunch 'cause we figure anything that both Allan and Andee and Andee's fiancee Heather all instantly fell in love with, is something that at least a select few AQ customers are gonna dig too. Why did A, A and H all fall for DQ? Well Dark Quarterer just push all our eccentric, ancient metal buttons. To us, the low-budget, fidelity-impared production is part of their charm (what are those drums made of? cardboard?), the English-almost-as-a-second-language vocal stylings as well (without looking at the lyric sheet you'll have some trouble puzzling out what he's singing about -- his pronunciation is, let's say, creative). And the name "Dark Quarterer" curiously great too. But what's most important (and the reason why they indeed do have a cult following to this day) is that they wrote some awesomely epic and undeniably catchy metal songs. While Black Hole's favorite band must have been Black Sabbath, we're pretty sure Dark Quarterer were inspired by the grandiose he-man metal of Manowar. But it's Manowar-worship laced with the influence of Goblin and Yes and other proggy weirdness, as befits a band from the prog-crazy land of Italy. Andee even detects some hints of our beloved Comus in the title track, though we should stress that Dark Quarterer are very, very metal. Bizarre and poverty-stricken, yep, but metal through and through, with heaps of heroic vocals and majestic riffage to put some starch in your shorts (or loin cloth?). Not terribly unlike another eccentric '80s metal fave 'round here, Manilla Road.
None more self-referential. (Not even Manowar.) This album actually has the words "Dark" and "Throne" in the title. Dark Thrones & Black Flags, could they make it any more plain? Implying the grimnity of Darkthrone's traditional necro Nordic black metal with a severe dose of '80s punk (and metal) infesting the proceedings, which is basically the Darkthrone formula of recent years. If you liked, say, last year's Darkthrone album, F.O.A.D., you'll like this (and if you didn't, you won't!). While we can't expect 'em to replicate old classics like A Blaze In The Northern Sky or Transylvanian Hunger, we do know they can make F.O.A.D. Part II! Heck, it even looks almost identical. Similar cover art, same rounded-corner jewel case. And as with F.O.A.D., the text in the cd booklet delves into fannish detail, including another page of interestin' record-buying recommendations from drummer Fenriz, and individual liner notes for each song on this disc, explaining their inspirations. Which often have to do with obscure '80s bands only collectors know about. Or, have to do with camping trips! These guys love the great outdoors, and thus the cd booklet is illustrated with many photos of Norwegian forests and lakes taken by these "Hiking Metal Punks" (yes, that's a song title here!). You gotta love it. So many black metal bands claim to be "of the forest", but these guys prove they are. They also prove, again, to have a sense of humor... yet remains totally cvlt 'cause heck they're Darkthrone!
Musically, this album rocks, it's a punked-up slab of riffy, raw black metal. Utterly old school - even though it's Darkthrone's new school sound (for the actual ye olde Darkthrone stuff, we still have a few copies of their deluxe demos collection The Frostland Tapes reviewed 2 lists back). There's anthems like "Hiking Metal Punks" and icy epicks like "Norway In September", but whatever the style, headbangingness is job number one. The production is typical Darkthrone filth, the vocals (from both Fenriz and stringed-instrument wielder Nocturno Culto) range from the usual rasping croaks to higher pitched yelps and even some weird, clean vocals (like the chorus of the opening track, "They Winds They Called The Dungeon Shaker" - that's an awesome title by the way, whatever it means). Fenriz does a Tom G. Warrior (Celtic Frost) sometimes, and even gets kinda witchy, sounding just a bit like ol' King Diamond on "Hanging Out In Haiger". On the drums, he bashes away enthusiastically as always. Guitarwise, Nocturno keeps it grim (of course) but throws in the occasional surprisingly widdily solo.
So, basically, the cold, old ones are back with another album of all about their favorite stuff: metal, camping, Darkthrone. It mixes their punk side (which they took to the furthest extreme a couple albums back on The Cult Is Alive) with hoary heavy metal homage, again a la F.O.A.D. And there's definitely a bunch of tracks on here that give that album's biggest hit, the catchy "Canadian Metal", a run for its money! We like.
Norway's number one "hiking metal punks", the Darkthrone duo of Fenriz and Nocturno Culto are back with another album (their 16th!) that melds the grim frozen Nordic black metal of the '90s (typified by their own corpsepainted classics from the era like A Blaze In the Northern Sky and Under A Funeral Moon) with '80s NWOBHM, punk, crust, and speed metal, as they have been doing for the past six or seven years.
We'd heard before we got this that the new Darkthrone was heavily influenced by Agent Steel, and while Fenriz does pull of some amazing high pitched shrieks in the style of John Cyriis from that cult '80s speed metal outfit, we suspect that people were saying that 'cause a copy of Agent Steel's Skeptics Apocalypse lp is prominently displayed behind Fenriz in his picture on this album's back cover. What also should have been in that picture is a copy of Celtic Frost's Morbid Tales, 'cause plenty of this has that brand of '80s underground doomic deathliness to it too. Mercyful Fate and Venom, the '80s originators of black metal, are also clear inspirations. A good example of what that means, is the album's truly epic final track, the 13 minute 49 second "Leave No Cross Unturned", written/sung by Fenriz, which opens with an impressive balls-in-a-vice scream, the song speeding along with rapid riffage ornamented by soaring swooping vox. But then, whomp, it slows for a sluggish doomed out break, chugging thenceforth under a Hellhammered, Frosty vibe. Eventually the velocity ramps up again as do Fenriz's operatic affectations, and then back again into the doomy depths, the song a tour de force display of what Darkthrone dig in metal, as well as serving as a representation of the entire album in microcosm, it's got it all. A headbanging masterpiece right there.
That could be the only song here and we'd still be into this, but wait, there's more. Six tracks total, three by Nocturno Culto (the guitarist) and three by Fenriz (the drummer). Fenriz sings his compositions with an extreme/eccentric mix of falsetto wails and guttural deathgrunts, while on his tracks Nocturno employs a capable (if less WTF?) black metal rasp. They alternate songs throughout the album, beginning with Nocturno's gnarly snarly punked out black metal opener "Dead Early", followed by the more-likely-to-get-you-staring-at-your-stereo "Valkyrie" of Fenriz, some very epic wailing metal, fast but glorious, like a weird mix of Bathory and Manilla Road, maybe. Nocturno is back on the mic with track three, the dense churning rocking riff-fest of "Lesser Men". Fenriz responds with the rollicking "The Ones You Left Behind", sorta like "Valkyrie" but with some Motorhead added in? It's hard to describe actually, and that's what's cool about Darkthrone these days, while these guys wear their influences on their sleeves (and can do so with impunity 'cause they themselves were once so influential), the stuff they come up with here is still original, somehow channelling their obvious inspirations into weird hybrids never before attempted or envisioned.
Then to the album's penultimate track, Nocturno's own pounding epic, the 8:37 "Come Warfare, The Entire Doom", which is indeed doomy, but cranks at speed too, and almost would be this album's more metal than thou piece de resistance if we didn't know that the massive "Leave No Cross Unturned" was coming up next. But it sure comes close.
All we can say is, if you love metal, you gotta love Darkthrone. Long may they reign. As long as they're around, metal will never die.
The cd comes packaged in a hardcover digibook, 20 pages, necessary 'cause of course the ever talkative Fenriz takes up a lot of space with his notes on each song, etc. One of his songs ("Leave No Cross Unturned", natch) even has its OWN lengthy "thanks list", separate from the two page thanks list Fenriz himself has. Nocturno Culto, aka Ted, more taciturn, limits himself to just one page for his thanks list and doesn't deign to analyze his songs, unlike Fenriz, who practically writes reviews for 'em, listing precise inspirations for each section of each of his compositions. Also, in recent Darkthrone tradition, Fenriz provides a list of recommended new bands he likes, in his role as tastemaker for a new generation of metallers. So folks who download this, illegally or otherwise, are missing out on a lot!
Break out the headphones, relax the body, and close the eyes, it's another one from the devastatingly droney and dark Darsombra, whose debut Ecdysis disc we really liked a couple years back. We like this just as much, maybe more. There's a great deal of melancholic, mesmeric beauty in Darsombra's isolationist grinding and evil ambient shimmer. We can imagine Darsombra's human operator, Brian Daniloski from the Maryland metalcore band Meatjack, up late at night alone in his home studio, lights dim, wreathed in smoke, hunched over his guitar and synth and effects and whatever else he uses to conjure this music, willing himself off into another place, out into the void of space, riding the dense waves of his own creation, returning only at dawn with another track for this album finished.
Let's discuss these tracks, but not in order... The echoey minimalism of "Drops Of Sorrow" is simply glorious, it's Riley or Reich from a psychdronedoom perspective. Or perhaps krautrock's Achim Reichel & The Machines playing Black Boned Angel!? Elsewhere, there's more gloom and glory, from the hushed sinister soundtrack melodies of opener "Auguries" to the haunting, spacey drone-whispers of "Night's Black Agents" - this disc's longest track at 17:34, reminding us of the 'Vox Insecta' work of old AQ fave Q.R. Ghazala. Then, with an intro of ommming voices (or synth) there's "Lamentings / Auguries", featuring sparse melodic guitar weepery buried beneath fuzzed out layers of deep, electronic drone and distortion. Again, this definitely sounds like it would make good soundtrack material for some eerie, arty Italian horror flick. And further cementing our love affair with the abstract attractions of Eternal Jewel, the calmly vibrating "Incarnadine" brings some rays of light to this disc at its very end, with its peacefully repetitive clusters of gentle chimings over a quiet drone.
Packaged by Public Guilt in a nice black, gothically graceful gatefold sleeve, this is definitely recommended. Imagine Expo '70 cloaked in black, performing a seance with Tony Conrad and Lustmord, and you'll have an idea of how much we must like this!
Hopefully you already know Darsombra, seeing as we made their last Public Guilt release, Eternal Jewel, a Record Of The Week not too many moons ago. Atmospheric dark doom-drone experimentation not unlike a more sinister Expo '70 or a proggier Nadja. If you don't know 'em, get this and you'll get to know at least one of their songs really really well, in a way.
Track one here, "Nymphaea", is a head-nodding exercise in bass heavy, slow-building psychedelic instrumental throb. It starts out with plenty of distortion, and only gets heavier and more blown-out as it plods forth, adding a snakily melodic guitar line to further entrance the listener. It originally appeared as Darsombra's contribution to the "untitled" 3cd comp PG help put out last year, and now it has spawned this collection of remixes, a dozen of them, tracks 2-13!
It's pretty fascinating to hear this single song morph from track to track, 'cause they're all very different, the each remixer definitely making it their own, from blissed out vocal pop (Max Bondi & Bleeding Heart Narrative's "Hyena Amp mix") to big-beat crash-boom electro (Pulsoc's "True Love Never Dies remix") to creepy drone-noise ambience (Guilty Connector's "Dotonburi Neonnights") and that's just the first three mixes on here! Elsewhere, Ala Muerte adds eerie female voice doing Latin chant, Destructo Swarmbots strip the track down to a minimal low-end hum, The Heirs Of Rockefeller crank up the fuzz, focussing on the song's incessant hypnotic plod... all these and the rest of the remixers generally fucking with this track in many compelling and often unexpected ways. Darsombra have every reason to proudly approve what's been done with, or done to, their "Nymphaea" here. Remixers not already mentioned above also include Perfekt Teeth, Magicicada, Strotter Inst., Decimation Blvd. & Darla Hood, Blood Fountains, and le knell.
LIMITED EDITION! 250 COPIES ONLY! We only got 20! On a black cd-r in a slim, screen printed sleeve with vellum obi.
We've heard tell of record for a long time, but this is the first occasion that a cd reissue has wound up in our bins. It's about time 'cause it is indeed a pretty cool little album! Multi-instrumentalist Wolfgang Dauner was an innovative German jazz musician who in the late '60s started to move into more experimental and "krautrock" territory. The Oimels, originally released in 1969, was supposedly his attempt at a "pop" album...
It starts off with the funky, quirky instrumental "Oh, Baby, I Don't Love You Anymore", wherein ivories are tickled, flutes are flaunted, and there's some silly serious stabs of fuzz guitar from Siggi Schwab (an MPS label vet that you've heard before if you're familiar with the Vampyros Lesbos soundtrack!). Reminds us a bit of that bizarre exploito-kraut "party album" by Staff Carpenborg & The Electric Corona we reviewed a couple years ago. Neat enough, should appeal to the same folks digging those "In-Kraut" and "Instro-Hipsters" compilations... but with an extra dose of something. Uh, LSD?
Sitar twang is added to the next track, the faux-Eastern hippy jam "Take Off Your Clothes To Feel The Setting Sun", the vocals blissfully, mantrically suggesting that one disrobe as per the song title. That's followed by another bright n' slinky lounge instrumental, "My Man's Gone Now", that would have Austin Powers sayin' "Groovy, baby" and whooping it up. So far, so good... a groovy jazzy album yeah, with some freaky pop leanings, but a psychedelic krautrock classic? Well then you hit the positively CRAZED track four, "Come On In On In" and you realize that The Oimels are seriously trippin'. It's a hard one to describe, totally unhinged, almost hyperactively punked-up like The Monks, with chaotic chanting vocals and infectious rhythmic glee. Wow, wild! Ok, now we're convinced. And as the album continues, the freakiness does too. It's such a weird blend of smooth jazz grooves and psychedelic spasms. Dauner and his Quintet were definitely on to something (or on something) with their sound. Some of the other surprises in store for listeners include a swingin' version of "Greensleeves", and, to end the record, a pretty amazing cover of "A Day In The Life" by the Beatles. The elegiac mood of the original is maintained, enhanced even, yet also subverted with insane atonal fuzz-jazz soloing.
We're now definitely interested in hearing Dauner's other progressive jazz and fusion albums of the era, if we can find 'em...
Psychedelic rock music inspired by and/or the cause of various psychological anomalies and psychic phenomena! Seriously. The Davis Redford Triad is the fully levitational drone-rock unit centered on the outer-mind guitar explorations of Steven Wray Lobdell (just don't call him Stevie Wray!). He's the bearded hippy with the brow, holding the dog in his lap, both of whom stare out at you from the back cover of this release. You may also know him from his other projects (Baseball Astrologer, Sufi Mind Game, and the lovely acoustic solo set "Automatic Writing By The Moon", also on Holy Mountain). Oh, and of course he's also the guitarist in Faust! Yes, although Lobdell's from the Pacific Northwest, he somehow ended up playing guitar with those re-united krautrockers on their last few albums. Faust of course wouldn't hire just any old long-hair to play guitar, and our favorite 'new Faust' album "Ravvivando" wouldn't have been nearly as excellent without him.
We really liked the Triad's second album, 2000's German-titled but Eastern-tinged "Ewige Blumenkraft" but really, *really* liked their much heavier first LP, "The Mystical Path Of The Number Eighty Six". Originally released in 1997 as a limited edition vinyl artifact, the Triad's debut album has long been in need of compact disc reissue, and at last here it is. This classic has now re-emerged in remixed and re-sequenced form, and includes a theremin track mysteriously missing from the LP version...
It's a really good late night listen, as Lobdell & co. conjur a kosmic kraut vibe via deep, droney instrumental psych jams on guitar and organ, with drums on one track and some electronics thrown in. But mostly guitar, lots of guitar! It's essentially a solo album. Fans of Kejiji Haino (another Faust collaborator) and his band Fushitsusha should dig this...though Fushitsusha can be a lot more abrasive. Lobdell's clouds of distortion are rather more 'round' and pleasant than the extremes of Haino's skree. Yet amid the Triad's transportational anthems you'll find some abrasive distorto-grind to be sure (right in the very loud, very dark first track actually). Other comparisons could be made to guitarists like Caspar Brotzman (at his most Hendrix-feeling), or Blue Cheer's Randy Holden (at his most abstract)...
Truly essential for anyone into heavy drone-psych guitar from Bardo Pond to Population II to Fushistsusha. Even if you have the original vinyl, you should check this cd out, as it's quite a bit different. And look for a new Triad release in the fall.
Finally reissued on cd last year were these three albums by Miles Davis' funky ex-wife, who should be famous in her own right for the tough, heavy duty '70s funk she waxed on those records. Now they're available, briefly, as LPs once again, but we've only got a couple of each and don't think we'll be able to get more (they're limited or something), so you'd better hurry on down if you want to get down with Betty on vinyl.
Her second album, "They Say I'm Different", continued Betty's Afrodelic party, with guests Buddy Miles and others, and made the list of "100 Records That Set The World On Fire" in The Wire magazine a few years back. And it features a song specifically about ex-husband Miles, "He Was A Big Freak"!
For all aficionados of the Funk, here's cause for celebration! The long-awaited cd reissues of these early '70s albums by Betty Davis, ex-wife of Miles (famously, the subject "They Say I'm Different"'s second track, "He Was A Big Freak")! Betty belts out her lowdown lyrics over some super heavy funk grooves, kinda like a rawer version of Lyn Collins backed not by the JBs but by the swampier P-Funk band. Betty doesn't hold back and her band does their best to match her attitude. Both records (her third, "Nasty Girl", still awaits reissue but should soon be making the scene) are the quote unquote bomb. The self-titled one is her 1973 debut, and features jams like "If I'm In Luck I Might Get Picked Up" and "Game Is My Middle Name". Larry Graham's the bassist, and Neal Schon (!) appears on guitar. The follow-up, "They Say I'm Different", continued Betty's Afrodelic party, with guests Buddy Miles and others, and made the list of "100 Records That Set The World On Fire" in The Wire magazine a few years back. Tough, sexy funk classics unearthed, don't miss 'em!
This 1972 Miles Davis album stands as one of our favorites and one of the most played at AQ over the years. And for good reason, it seriously is one of the most gritty, dirty, funked out jazz records of all time. Influenced by his then wife, Betty Davis's vision of raw, nasty funk, this was Miles at his most forward thinking, inventive, deep hitting, psychedelic and purely bad ass!
Part of the concept of On The Corner, was to try to get black youth engaged and brought back into the world of jazz, as Davis saw that the jazz scene was getting so straight laced, watered down and stale. This album really served as his biggest 'fuck you' to the jazz establishment, all the squares that wanted him to just make pretty sounds with his trumpet and not rock the boat. But Davis was interested in much more then what jazz was traditionally considered to sound like, as this is an album equally influenced by psychedelic rock, true funk, and spiritual ritualistic music.
It's an album that has found such a devoted and diverse following. Hip-Hop heads and krautrock alike count On The Corner as sacrosanct! Distorted guitar, fucked up organs, these sounds laid the foundation for so much of our favorite music of the last several decades. While Bitches Brew, always gets the most attention, On The Corner might just be THEE one, and quite possibly one of the most brilliant and game changing albums of all time!
The truly "true" amongst you, metal-wise, should already be familiar with the German hellions known as Sacred Steel. We've given horns-up reviews to several of their more-metal-than-thou albums in the past. Dawn Of Winter is Sacred Steel's doom metal side project, featuring two members of that band, guitarist Jorg Knittel and, crucially to our enjoyment of it, vocalist Gerrit Mutz, whose unusual wavering wail, as we've said before, comes off like a cross between Scott Reagers (Saint Vitus) and Jello Biafra!
Dawn Of Winter have been around for years and years (since 1990) but haven't made that many records, possibly 'cause sloth is their modus operandi, playing as they do the lethargic, lumbering strains of traditional doom metal. This is only their 2nd full-length. You could say we were slow too, in reviewing this, as The Peaceful Dead came out last year ('twas in heavy rotation in Allan's iPod around Christmas time). Perfect for the bleak winter months of course, but now it's gotten better US distribution and we've managed to get a few for the store.
Whilst Sacred Steel are almost always speedy, with the occasional doomy detour, in this band Knittel and Mutz fully indulge their love of all things slow and low. Indeed, opening track "The Music Of Despair" is a doom/cult metal shoutout of sorts, the lyrics making references both subtle and overt to a bunch of DoW's favorite bands, including Penance, Manilla Road, Witchfinder General, Mercyful Fate, Angel Witch, Cirith Ungol, Pentagram, Saint Vitus, Pagan Altar, Reverend Bizarre, Candlemass, and of course Black Sabbath.
The other nine tracks here pretty much do their utmost to live up to all that, with plodding tempi, gothic imagery, loud-soft dynamics, and dramatic crescendos. Soooo dramatic! Mutz's hammy (but sincere) thespian delivery is perfectly suited to the melancholic majesty of this music, songs that are seemingly weighted down by the crushing distortodoomidelic guitar accompaniment, o'er which Mutz' emotive vocals are declaimed.
So, if the epic doom metal of the Heaven & Hell and Candlemass albums reviewed here recently has whet your appetite for even more in the way of hoary, Sabbathy riffs and wizened wizard vocals, and you're down for something a little more underground as well, then Dawn Of Winter might be just the ticket.
We'd have highlighted this, too, but are aware that DoW are only for the "true"!
All hail! At last, a follow up to the critically-acclaimed (and by us as well) 2010 album Nucleus, from this idiosyncratic lone genius metal cult. Yes it's the return of Dawnbringer, masterminded by guitarist/drummer/vocalist Chris "Professor" Black, he of also, amongst others, AQ faves High Spirits. Interestingly, Dawnbringer started off years ago as the one-man band of *somebody else*, but early on, Chris Black joined on drums, and then the other guy subsequently quit, making Dawnbringer into Black's own one-man band! (Though he does get help from friends.)
For those who've heard Nucleus, you know that Dawnbringer plays truly classic metal, but with an experimental edge, informed by black and death and other styles, though those elements have been toned down in recent years. Dawnbringer's latest comes quite close to the sound of the NWOBHM-ish High Spirits, with some of the power/proggishness of another band the Professor plays drums in, Pharaoh.
Dawnbringer must be lauded for their real, honest-to-god heavy metal songwriting, unafraid to be a bit 'pop' - track five even gets a little power-ballady, we love it! Other trademarks include the powerful drumming, TONS of gorgeously shredding guitarwork, various quirky details, and, crucially, the whiskey-weary, Lemmy-phlegmy, soulful vocal stylings of Black - the earnestness of which go a long way toward making the weirder aspects of this seem worth taking seriously, 'cause yes, the album title kinda sounds like the name of a D&D module, and indeed it's fantastical. The sticker on the shrinkwrap says that this album is "the story of a naive assassin, his bizarre journey, and its tragic end". But beyond that, for a 'concept album', very little is revealed. The disc is broken up into nine completely untitled tracks, there's no 'story' provided in the cd booklet, and only a few lines of lyrics are printed. You just gotta listen. And, whether you follow the plot or not, you'll enjoy the masterful metal music, full of killer riffage, galloping rhythms, and impassioned vocals...
Dawnbringer here can certainly be compared to their former Profound Lore labelmates, Slough Feg and Hammers Of Misfortune (the latter especially due to the pounding '70s prog Hammond organ you'll hear on track VI, in particular). Also of course, such bands as diverse as Iron Maiden, Blue Oyster Cult, Bathory, Manowar... In sum, this album is an artistic, ambitious attempt at 'Epic Metal', and it's a huge triumph. Definitely in competition for best heavy metal offering of 2012!
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Now that the Profound Lore label has released this Chicago-based metal band's fourth full-length, we think more people are gonna start paying attention to 'em. We know WE are. Though we thought we knew what they sounded like before, we were blown away by this. Note we said "metal" band, and didn't qualify that in any way. Didn't say black, thrash, doom, true, etc. That's 'cause Dawnbringer are sorta ALL those things. Well, they used to have a lot more black metal aspects, death metal too, as we remember. But through a process of experimentation it seems they've arrived at THIS sound, a perfection, a distillation, a PURE metal sound that is traditional... yet advanced and yes, still experimental.
On Nucleus, Dawnbringer bring it, all right. They can be triumphantly shredding in speed metal glory, or NWOBHM-ishly rockin' ("Swing Hard"), or thrashy ("The Devil" approaches black metal velocities), and then slow, sad and majestic... sometimes all within the same song. And SONG is the operative word, as is singing, the versatile vocals often approximating the melodic gruffness of Lemmy, or James Hetfield, sounding tough, yet vulnerable... so Dawnbringer have their Motorhead and Metallica sounding moments, also musically reminding us of Maiden and other old school metal greats. Another reference point would have to be Hammers Of Misfortune, if you stripped away most of Hammers' prog elements and exposed the metal core.
'Tis utter headbanging heaviness, inspiring "invisible orange" style air-grabbing for sure, but not without neo-classical artistry as well. Impressive as hell, especially considering it's mostly the work of one man, Dawnbringer being masterminded by multi-instrumentalist (and singer) Chris "Professor" Black, a former member of psychedelic black metal act Nachtmystium, also drummer for power metallers Pharaoh and the genius behind NWOBHM worshippers High Spirits (whose demos cd we HAVE to review here soon!).
So, this is the quote-unquote rockin' Dead C album? So we were told, that was the supposed spin on this one, the twenty-somethingth album from these veteran NZ "free-rock" heroes. But maybe we got that wrong, 'cause aren't they all equally (free-) rockin'? Probably what was meant was that this was more "song-y", in comparison to their previous album, last year's Future Artists, 'cause there's more singing... but otherwise, not such a huge departure. And their album before that, 2003's The Damned, was WAY rock on tracks like "Truth". It's always kinda funny getting into discussions about just how rock or noise or whatever the Dead C are, anyway, since the thing about them is that they're playing Dead C music exclusively, forging into otherwise uncharted, unnamed sonic territory with each release even after 20 years in the "biz", leaving all other underground noise/drone/rock/experimental/floorcore acts to play catch-up. As we said in our review of Future Artists, the Dead C have an amazing ability to take "unmusical sounds, caustic, abrasive, minimal and harsh, and weave them into something beautiful." That they surely do here. If you've never heard 'em before, this could be a fairly accessible starting point.
Certainly, you can't argue that lead off track "Mansions" (the 1st of 4 songs on this 45 minute disc) does not, underneath its avant-garde, noisily shambolic exterior, have a rock n' roll heart that's a-beatin'. As well, there's melody amidst the murk, with mumbly, half-whispered vocals rising to the fore. But really it's more moanin' than it's rockin', the whole album moaning and droning, full of shrill feedback textures and an eventually hypnotic sheen of percussive clangor (on the lengthy track 2 "Stations", and track 3 "Plains" especially). They stir up quite a dense din on the latter, leaving more space on album closer "Waves" for Michael Morely's plaintive vocals to wend thro' the distortion, showing the kinder, gentler side of the Dead C... Such a fine blend of immediate emotional impact and unsettling, unfamiliar audio explorations. As "song-y" as we say this is, who else writes songs that at each and every moment seem maybe like they are finishing, and/or beginning anew? Standard song structures and instrumental roles are abandoned or deprioritized in favor of an alien Dead C agenda of experimental, improvised (yet to their own logic disciplined) expressiveness that really does justify the "free" in the free-rock tag. As essential as ever. (And if you can, don't miss 'em on their first US tour in ages - they played SF last night and it was great.)
It's a bit hard to believe that it's been just over 20 years since New Zealand's Dead C first unleashed their unique brand of 'noise rock' on our unsuspecting ears, but 'tis true, and while the band have gone through many sonic permutations over their two decades, their sound somehow has always remained distinctly their own. There have been long stretches of inactivity too, with the various members pursuing their own projects, Gate, A Handful Of Dust, etc. but they always seemed to find their way back. A new record, and a recent US tour, has upped the band's profile of late, but what better time to look back, at their first two proper full lengths, available on vinyl in the US for the first time, with all sorts of extras.
While the Dead C are generally considered to be a 'noise rock band', to many THEE 'noise rock' band, it's easy to forget that at their heart, they are a pop band. With songs, and verses and choruses and crooned vocals, and strummed acoustic guitars, and all of that stuff. Never was that more apparent than on their first two records, Eusa Kills and Dr 503, which found the band sort of straddling two worlds of sound, the prevailing 'New Zealand' sound, a sort of lo-fi bedroom pop, and their own peculiar trajectory, a loose ramshackle assemblage of guitarnoise, fractured FX, noisy ambience, and a general clang and clatter. A pretty heady mix for sure, which probably had more conservative listeners reeling, but had the rest of us clamoring for more.
Dr 503, was their first proper full length (3rd actual, depending on who's keeping track), and opens up with what many consider the penultimate Dead C track "Max Harris", and if a single song could indeed be a microcosm for the Dead C sound, it's probably "Max Harris". Woozy rhythms, stumbling off kilter rhythms, the middle part sounds like a lo-fi This Heat crossed with Geronimo, all abstract distorted crunch, and muted squalls of tribal drumming, streaks of clipped effects, murky processed vocals, slivers of feedback, even a mere seconds-long acoustic guitar outro. The record veers and careens all over the place, spoken word over splattery percussion and clipped minimal strum, thick doomy dirges of heavily reverbed guitar, gloomy Joy Division basslines, and hushed muttered vocals, skipping phonographs draped over stripped down slowcore, Sebadoh style lo-fi bedroom folk, primitive tape experiments, pounding almost garage-y jams that transform into spare Jandekian sprawls, but all held together by some nearly impossible to define Dead C aesthetic.
The record finishes off with a devastating one-two punch, the 9 minute Dead C classic sort-of-ballad "Polio", which begins all folky and strummy, gradually the guitars warp and warble, the drums stumble in, and the song just sort of drifts and skitters, the guitars weirdly effected, the vocals heartfelt and buried way down in the mix, the drums almost Can-like in their motorik simplicity, there are some moments of chaos, but for the most part "Polio" is dark and dreamy and murky and softly buzzy, a little jangly, and sort of pretty. And then it's on to the 13+ minute "Max Harris 2" which does seem to contain some sonic elements of the original, but the sound here is repetitive and clangorous, the guitars buzz and whir, the riffs angular and jagged, the sound washed out and lo-fi, the vocals another buried mumble, until the song shifts gear part way through, and it's just a single guitar, plucking out that same main riff, accompanied by super spare percussion, and wreathed in tape hiss, after a sudden burst of crash and crunch, the track jams on and on and on, becoming slowly unhinged, the sounds slowly detuning, everything getting more and more warped and warbly before stuttering to a halt.
This reissue tacks on the Sun Stabbed ep (originally released as a 7"), from right around the same time, which is pretty impossible to find at all, on vinyl or otherwise. Offering up more of the same, a handful of gorgeous and confusional tracks offering up still more of the Dead C's unique clash of classic New Zealand songsmithery and noise drenched, abstract, sonic deconstruction.
Absolutely and utterly essential listening. Gorgeously repackaged in a super heavy gatefold sleeve, reproducing much of the original art, and pressed on super thick vinyl. And as you might have guessed, VERY VERY LIMITED!
It's a bit hard to believe that it's been just over 20 years since New Zealand's Dead C first unleashed their unique brand of 'noise rock' on our unsuspecting ears, but 'tis true, and while the band have gone through many sonic permutations over their two decades, their sound somehow has always remained distinctly their own. There have been long stretches of inactivity too, with the various members pursuing their own projects, Gate, A Handful Of Dust, etc. but they always seemed to find their way back. A new record, and a recent US tour, has upped the band's profile of late, but what better time to look back, at their first two proper full lengths, available on vinyl in the US for the first time, with all sorts of extras.
While the Dead C are generally considered to be a 'noise rock band', to many THEE 'noise rock' band, it's easy to forget that at their heart, they are a pop band. With songs, and verses and choruses and crooned vocals, and strummed acoustic guitars, and all of that stuff. Never was that more apparent than on their first two records, Eusa Kills and Dr 503, which found the band sort of straddling two worlds of sound, the prevailing 'New Zealand' sound, a sort of lo-fi bedroom pop, and their own peculiar trajectory, a loose ramshackle assemblage of guitarnoise, fractured FX, noisy ambience, and a general clang and clatter. A pretty heady mix for sure, which probably had more conservative listeners reeling, but had the rest of us clamoring for more.
Eusa Kills originally came out in 1989, and makes it the Dead C's fourth proper full length (maybe 6th, hard to tell with the band's convoluted discography) and finds the band in full on song mode, with a somewhat improved production, which definitely suits them. Years later, the band would release a single called The Dead C. Vs. Sebadoh, the title a joke obviously, but even 5 years early, when Eusa Kills came out, the band did in fact sound quite a bit like Sebadoh at moments, dark and brooding, sort of rocking, melodic but a bit off kilter, especially on record opener "Scarey Nest", which is a dead ringer for some lost Sebadoh B-side, with a killer main hook, simple solid drumming, wistful sort of sad boy vocals, the guitars alternatingly jangly and corrosive. After a 43 second Butthole Surfers style abstract drum / guitar crunch jam with distorted vocals and a lumbering tempo, the band slip right back into more dark jangle, a minor key guitar unfurling, a shuffling military snare, more weary crooned vocals, it is easy to see why lots of folks refer to Eusa Kills as the Dead C's 'songs' record. Most of the tracks are 2 or 3 minutes, poppy and jangly, the whole record clocking in at a lean 36 minutes, the exceptions being the 6 minute "Phantom Power" which begins as an extended abstract jam, all simple solid drumming and jagged guitar, but then the vocals drift in all ghostlike and the sound is transformed into something much poppier, and the 7 minute "Maggot", which is probably the heaviest of the bunch, with its grinding guitars, it's lurching drum part, and the super distorted Buttholes style processed vox, but even then, there's a definite pop sensibility at work, although a bit obscured. The rest of the shorter tracks tend toward the pop-ish, whether it be pounding noise drenched indie rock, moaning slow motion Jandek style sprawl or the gorgeously languid hushed folky jangle that finishes off the disc.
Also included is the Helen Said This 12" originally released around the same time. Not quite as songy as Eusa Kills, but enough that the two fit together perfectly, an extension of Eusa's twisted jangle, muddled pop smithery, warm wooziness, and occasional cracked heaviness.
Totally recommended, and essential for all fans of fucked up music. And heck, even fans of not-so-fucked up music. This just might be the Dead C record you can handle. Gorgeously repackaged in a super heavy gatefold sleeve, reproducing much of the original art, and pressed on super thick vinyl. And as you might have guessed, VERY VERY LIMITED!
All right, while Andee is the biggest Dead C expert here at Aquarius, we're ALL fans of New Zealand's long-running noise rock geniuses. And since he took responsibility for writing the extensive and effusive reviews we've published in recent weeks for the repressings / warehouse finds of The Dead C's Harsh 70s Reality and Trapdoor Fucking Exit albums, I (Allan) thought I'd step up and take over reviewing this brand new release, which is in fact a sort of "best of" anthology selected and compiled by the band themselves, featuring 22 tracks spread over two compact discs, spanning their career to date. Not being as much of an expert as Andee, but still a fan (I've got a few of their albums, and would have more but missed out on some releases when I wasn't as 'hip' to this band as I am now), this 2cd is just what I needed: a primer of sorts on this sometimes confusional, confounding, and obscure-but-important band. And as far as reviewing goes, what's to review? THIS SHIT IS ESSENTIAL! End of story. It's an ideal introduction for newbies and even the most dedicated Dead C fanatic will want it as well. Even if you've collected every last rare tape or vinyl track from these guys it's still nice to have a few of 'em on cd.
You'll hear how The Dead C trio of Michael Morley, Robbie Yeats, and Bruce Russell blazed their own unique path through the down under underbelly of indie-rock experimentation, pushing the boundaries of (between?) noise and rock in their New Zealand laboratory. True originals, appreciated at first only by a hardy few (themselves, mainly, as well as the likes of Sonic Youth). Their deliberately lo-fi, song-subverting, willfully 'wrong' music-making was and is perhaps an acquired taste. We'd venture to guess though that at this point, few regular AQ customers would have less than positive reactions to The Dead C's seasick lurchings, to their sounds of droning flybys from UFOs made out of straw, and feedback stomp and damaged thrash. No complaints about caustic liquids somehow coursing through guitar strings, amps, and ears. Thumb up to their hazy hints of melodies, buried beneath solid static storms of guitar distortion, or their moments of quietly emotive indie-pop prettiness in the NZ tradition, left to rust and decay.
The tracks are arranged chronologically, from "Max Harris" off their 1988 Flying Nun album DR503 starting off the first disc, to the track "Truth" taken from The Damned released in 2003 that ends the second disc. Disc one might be considered a survey of their "songier" era, going up to about 1992's Harsh 70s Reality, while disc two deals with material from 1994 on that saw them becoming less of a particularly noisy indie-rock band and more of truly abstract, improvising noise band, still with some rock and pop elements weirdly woven in. The tracks selected comprise both some "greatest hits" (things we'd have picked too, for sure) and some total rarities from long-deleted cassettes and limited vinyl-only releases, like the Clyma Est Mort LP, The Operation Of The Sonne LP, the Xpressway Pile-Up cassette comp, and the Helen Said This mini-LP, among others. Actually most of these tracks are rarities, in the sense that a lot of their '90s cds on Siltbreeze like The White House and Repent, and even more recent albums like the incredible self-titled double disc on Language Recordings from 2000 are out of print now too. There's two tracks from Harsh 70s Reality, but strangely enough nothing from Trapdoor Fucking Exit, by the way.
The thick cd booklet contains essays, in ascending order of non-fictional detail, from Seymour Glass of Bananafish mag, Tom Lax of Siltbreeze, and Nick Cain of Opprobrium fanzine. And there's track-by-track commentary from Bruce Russell as well, adding to the "primer" value of this release. It may be true that this band's stuff takes a while to "get". Years maybe. But this crash course gives a great head start.
The blurb sticker on the front of this proclaims The Dead C as "the GREATEST noise/drone rock band of all time" and we really might not have any argument with that at all! It goes on to suggest that fans of Wolf Eyes, SUNNO))), Lightning Bolt and Growing would/should dig The Dead C quite heavily. Probably true as well. The implication being, though, that fans of those bands wouldn't have heard of The Dead C before. Perhaps -- and if that's the case, and that's you, you definitely should check this out!!! We'd probably go on to say that as much as we enjoy all those bands, The Dead C is much closer to our hearts for sure...
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
The Dead C is the stalwart collective of free noise / avant rockers from New Zealand comprised of Bruce Russell (member of A Handful of Dust and boss of the Corpus Hermeticum label), Michael Morley (aka Gate), and Robbie Yeats, beloved of Bananafish readers and Siltbreeze junkies everywhere. We thought that perhaps their day had passed but, think again, they've gone and created a superb new album! This new, long awaited release is a sprawling double cd that finds them in the least-rock space they have ever occupied. Recorded over the past 5 years, this album is saturated in a langurous humidity produced by guitar feedback scrapes, ring modulation, and the buzzing din of improperly balanced amplifiers.
Disc One is the noisier of the two, dominated by the epic 33 minute "SpeederBot" which passes from militant percussive stabs into twin tremolo guitar feedback, similar to the controlled chaos found on their masterful "Harsh '70s Reality" album. But Disc Two is where this eponymous Dead C release really shines. Sort of like an analogue version of Main, or like a Raster record coming in badly on a shortwave radio, full of erratic hissing and eerie static. The trio striates the slow motion hypnodrone of sampled guitar feedback (yup, the lo-fi mirror version of My Bloody Valentine) with creaky little events. It's apparent that all of the recent drones from New Zealanders like Lovely Midget, RST, and Surface of the Earth have definitely made huge impact on the Dead C. They've picked up the gauntlet and, after a few years in their lonely NZ laboratory, have again come up with something that can be only called Dead C music (more so than it can be called rock or anything else). Adventurous, idiosyncratic, fantastic.
This is as recommended as it limited (to 500 copies and may not see a repress, sorry). Buy now or cry later!! (as we like to say.)
We kinda think that when we're reviewing a band's eagerly awaited new album, for instance their follow up to a debut we really liked, that it's not entirely unreasonable for us just to say, hey, please go read our review of that first record (or provide a brief summary, like in this case: awesome Swedish time trippin', '70s sounding stoner psych prog a la Dungen, Elope, Witchcraft) and then for us to go on to say, this one is ALSO awesome, so if you liked that one get this, and if you haven't heard either, get both! If you like this retro-'70s sort of thing, that is. Reasonable, right?
Dead Man's Euphoria is maybe a bit mellower than their self-titled debut, certainly much closer to the sun-dappled poppiness of Elope than to the Sabbathy proto-metal heaviness of Witchcraft. But it could definitely appeal to those into the moody folkiness -and- progginess of the latter.
They're still big time '70s throwbacks, they look and sound like bunch of long haired ol' hippies. Back to the land types, doing their thing out on some farm / commune someplace. Definitely a lazy, hazy, rustic vibe here, quite a bit Grateful Dead-y in point of fact. Some tracks are long (8, 9 proggy minutes for "The Wheel" and "Rest In Piece") while others breeze by in under two or three minutes. There's acoustic guitars and backporch bluesy bits (the singer asking someone for some lemon-squeezin' in "A Pinch Of Salt" ferinstance), and an overall placid, summery feel. Real pleasant, but ofttimes melancholic too. The vocals, particularly when handled by the guy with the wavery, breathy, close-to-tears voice, are quite emotive. (Those could be tears of joy though, the album's called Euphoria after all.)
And that's not to say that Dead Man don't heavy it up with the guitars now and then, they do, some swinging hard rock riffage certainly is heard, but this is mostly much lighter and gentler than you might be used to from the more doomy likes of Witchcraft, Burning Saviours, Graveyard... out of that Swedish '70s lovin' scene, Dead Man do the least to live up to the more evil implications of their name! But for melodiousness and progginess and flutey folkiness they're holding their own. We like!!
FYI, this will supposedly be getting a domestic cd release in June, we've just learned. Also they should be coming over to the US for a tour this fall, cool!
Ok, we don't know what sort of time warp technology they've developed over there in Sweden, but it does the job. I mean, if the US Navy ever wants to find out just what happened with that aircraft carrier or whatever from the 1940s (y'know, they made a movie about it, The Final Countdown or The Philadelphia Experiment wasn't it?), we'd say don't bother asking Michael J. Fox, get somebody over in Sweden to explain. They obviously have the time travel thing figured out. And best of all, they use it to make more rock and roll bands like in the good ol' days of acid rock and psychedelia!! Bands like Witchcraft and Elope and Dungen, who sound more 1970 than 2006. We've mentioned them all before, and if you know 'em and love 'em, well here's *another* group of Swedes that we think fans of those bands should check out. Dead Man! Long hair, bright harmonies, folky melodies, acoustic strum, heavy riffs, trippy vibes... even a 14-minute long experimental prog finale. Yep, definite time warp. Like Witchcraft and those others, they never betray their modernity. No anachronistic hints of '90s stoner rock or alternative rock or metal or anything. Really, though it -says- this debut full-length was recorded in 2005, it's like no rock music past, say, 1974 seems to have ever entered their ears.
Despite being called Dead Man this isn't particularly a dark album... just heavy psych in the old style. Some tracks are hard rockers, others spaced out and Floydian, even a little bit on the rustic Grateful Dead side of things... A couple of the guys in the band sing (in English), one of 'em with a wavering trill in his voice that reminds us a bit of Roger Chapman from Family, whereas the other singer has a stronger Swedish accent giving more of that Dungen flavor. The Norwegian '70s heavy psych act November could be one definite influence on these guys.
Again, although we do suspect the use of time-travel technology, we're also aware that Dead Man's guitarist used to play drums in Norrsken, Magnus Pellander's band before he formed Witchcraft. I guess he stole a page from Magnus' spellbook, temporal magic chapter. Meanwhile, two of the other members were in Swedish bands called The Strollers and The Roadrunners -- never heard them but boy those names are EXACTLY what the sort of '60s garage/beat bands that would have evolved into a band like Dead Man would have been called -- had this all really transpired 35 years ago like it sounds. Sure, not a lot of points for originality, but plenty for verisimilitude. We say, right on, Dead Man!
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Three years ago, the big rock n' roll sleeper hit here at Aquarius had to be the awesome Agents Of Oblivion album, featuring two crucial ex-members of the late lamented cult band Acid Bath. Heavy, poppy, psychedelic rock with vocalist Dax Riggs crooning beautifully over it all. We shoulda made it record of the week, we all thought in retrospect. Windy had it in heavy rotation in her Trans Am for ages! We were really bummed to hear that the Agents, like Acid Bath before 'em, broke up not long after the album's release. But, fortunately, there's more to the story. Rumors filtered in that Dax and a new crew of New Orleans n'er-do-wells had formed a new band with the unlikely name of Deadboy and the Elephantmen to carry on where the Agents left off. Allan confirmed this when he happened to visit N.O. two years ago and was lucky enough to catch a live performance from this new band. They had a demo out then, and we anticipated a full album release on some big label to appear soon...we waited...and waited...and now, *finally*, here's the Deadboy debut, a self-released cd 'cause those big labels dropped the ball apparently. Mystifiying, 'cause Dax is a rock star if ever there was one, and these guys should be HUGE. Totally accessible yet morbidly underground, we hear everything from some voodoo Alice Cooper darkness and drama, to a little Aerosmith swagger, to the heaviness and angst of Alice In Chains of course -- Acid Bath was always a AIC meets EHG (Eyehategod) hybrid, in a really good way. Radiohead's "Ok Computer" is hinted at too, and Jeff Buckley, as the music combines weirdly sensitive melodicism and dark atmosphere inspired by their hometown's swamps and cemeteries. Dax is as impressive as ever, he really *sings*, drawing out vowels over a dozen notes. His vocals are oddly warm and comforting but also anguished and intense. While the songwriting on this album does not quite match the relatively flowery yet heavy tunesmithery of the Agents of Oblivion album, and neither does the instrumentation call attention to itself, that's not necessarily a bad thing as it lets Dax' voice take center stage and he... just... wails. Sometimes despairing, sometimes incantatory. Oh the angst! For fans of Alice in Chains, Acid Bath/Agents of Oblivion (of course), Mark Lanegan of Screaming Trees, and Woven Hand.
We really can't get enough of the dark, cinematic soundscapes conjured by so many of the artists on such likeminded labels as Type (UK) and Miasmah (Norway). This new release on Type by Norwegian duo Deaf Center (cellist Erik K. Skodvin and pianist Otto A. Totland) is our current fave, it's just their second full-length in six years, as clearly it takes time to craft music this moody and gorgeous, this time around produced in a proper studio, in Berlin, on analog equipment for maximum fidelity. Also the two members of Deaf Center have been busy with their own, individual projects - Skodvin, for one, is the man behind another AQ fave, Svarte Greiner, plus he also runs the Miasmah label! And if you like the "acoustic doom" of Svarte Greiner, you should also appreciate Deaf Center's evocative combination of modern classical, ambient, and electronic strains on Owl Splinters.
Atmospheric opener "Divided" sets the mood, all abstract, monastic moan and droning string-scrape, hushed and floating. Then "Time Spent" introduces sparse melody, played on pensive, pretty piano, alone in the dark. Third track "New Beginning (Tidal Darkness)" is one of subtle crackle and glitch, the music ebbing and flowing through drone build-ups and more exquisite piano reveries. Once again, moody and somber, but beautiful. And so it goes, Deaf Center getting much heavier (eventually) in the midst of the grinding epic, "The Day I Would Never Have", the album's nearly 11 minute long centerpiece (which is infinitely longer on the vinyl version, as it ends the first side with a locked groove). Dense tones resonate with great emotional presence.
Skodvin's deep cello sawing can get spiky too, as on the nervously dramatic "Animal Sacrifice", though all is soothed by the luminous fuzz of the ambient background. Another epic track appears before the end of the disc, "Close Forever Watching" being 8 minutes of glorious, massing drone shimmer - play loud!!
With its balance of delicacy and weightiness both, Deaf Center's Owl Splinters coincidentally in some respects reminds us of two other releases recommended on this week's list - the new album from Earth, and also the Klute soundtrack! The recent Ural Umbo lp highlighted here last time also comes to mind.
Essential for fans of all things Type and Miasmah, particularly (of course) Svarte Greiner, also Elegi, Jacaszek, Fjellstrom, etc. A great going to sleep album for some of us, if you're ready for some perhaps suspenseful dreams.
Please note that the vinyl version, as is often the case with Type releases, is packaged with a bonus cd, in this case containing a 46 minute reworking of the album tracks by Skodvin under his Svarte Greiner guise, entitled Twin. Why they want to deprive cd purchasers of that, we don't know.
Maybe you've heard the hype on this Detroit punk rock reissue already. And it's almost too good to be believed. Back in 1974, this trio of brothers, who are also all "brothers" in the African-American sense of the word, and who were fans of the likes of Black Sabbath and The Stooges and Alice Cooper and the MC5, started a band called DEATH, recording an album that was never released (apparently they refused to change their name to get a major label deal). Flash forward to the present. One of these dudes plays in a reggae band now, but his son is in a punk rock band. Dad's like, "hey son, did y'know I had a band like that when I was your age." And then pulls these dusty, 30-some year old master tapes out of the closet. Holy shit, dad!! The long lost Death album. And it IS killer. Not just proto-punk, but practically proto-hardcore. Hear for yourself. The suggestion that HR and the Bad Brains - or Black Flag for that matter - heard this stuff back in the day and were inspired by it (Death did release a 7" single in 1976) doesn't seem entirely implausible. Not sure how Death stayed unknown for so long. Apparently the brothers, finding that Death's brand of uncompromising, politically radical, high energy rock action wasn't getting them anywhere, moved in a more gospel (!) direction... so that was it for Death. Until now, with Drag City's at-long-last release of Death's 1975 album (well, mini-album, it's seven songs, just over 26 minutes).
Opener "Keep On Knocking" is a decent enough rocker, hinting at the MC5, the Rolling Stones and maybe early badass KISS but it's tame compared to the hyperactive glam slam of what follows - when track two "Rock-N-Roll Victim" comes on and kicks you in the nuts, repeatedly, you'll really realize how freaking punk Death were. Frantic guitars locked in with frenzied drumming, crazed vocals, handclaps (yeah!)... it's pretty darn smokin'. Smoking somethin' all right. They mellow things about a bit for "Let The World Turn", though just a bit. "You're A Prisoner" is another heavy rocker, and "Freakin Out" doesn't let up, its title no lie.
"Where Do We Go From Here???" and "Politicians In My Eyes" are the two remaining tracks on this disc, and the latter in particular is a fierce blend of soulful vocal expression and raging, distorted rockin' with a little bit of a funky vibe. Wow. Definitely in the vein of something like Crushed Butler, but from Detroit a few years later... or in the vein of the Damned, but from Detroit a few years earlier! So, yeah, believe the hype. And by the way, this destroys all that Black Rock Coalition stuff from the early '90s...
Drag City must have been *stoked* to get to put this out. We're sorta surprised there's no liner notes, though they do include handwritten lyrics. Also, fyi, this is available on vinyl but we could barely get any, maybe we'll get some more eventually since the couple copies we have at the moment will be gone in a wink...
This record has been floating around for a while now, in various permutations, tapes, downloads, and now finally an lp, and a cassette again, maybe in anticipation of Death Grips' Epic label debut which is slated to drop later this month. And if you've yet to hear Death Grips, you might be a little surprised that they got snapped up by a major, cuz this is some fierce, grim, mean sounding shit. This Sacramento crew specializes in a twisted hybrid of hip hop and experimental electronics, the sound a dizzying assemblage of buzzing metal guitars, skittery programmed beats, bizarre samples, fractured glitched out buzz, twisted loops, seriously raw and lo-fi, but at the same time urgent and intense and fucking far out and super original.
The vocals are fierce and furious, not so much just rapped as bellowed, and howled, which suits the heavy sounds in the background. While much of the drumming is programmed, the drummer in Death Grips is none other than Hella's Zach Hill, but don't be expecting much of that furious Lightning Bolt style frantic drumming, this is after all a hip hop record, so most of the beats are spare and stretched out, as much about their tone and timbre as the rhythms themselves. Opener "Beware" is about as close to perfect as the troublesome hybridization of hip hop and metal has ever gotten, with big chiming distorted chords, an epic almost rock song arrangement, skittery rhythms, and DG mainman Stefan Burnett laying down a fierce flow over the top. "Guillotine" sounds more like a super charged Sensational jam, the beat spare and skittery, the main loop a thick buzzing low end synth, the track laced with little flurries of sci-fi FX, and weird random blasts of psychedelic sound, not to mention a having chain clatter crunch and some motorcycle rev thrum, and the rapping, twisted and deliriously off kilter. "Spread Eagle Cross The Block" is a dizzying assemblage of looped pop song, big sing along verses, stuttery handclap beats, while "Lord Of The Game" is a head spinning shuffle with the main loop made from sliced and diced vocals, there's also Beastie Boys horn bleats, and a Crazy World Of Arthur Brown sample, all tangled up into a crazy rapid fire blast of rhythmic crush. The rest of the record is just as twisted and all over the map, and while we could go song by song and describe each one in turn, it should be obvious by now if this is your cup of seriously spiked tea or not, we'd be surprised if it wasn't, this is the sort of hip hop record that sounds like it was made for aQ, fucked up and funky, heavy and tripped out, groovy and super twisted. For a genre that seems to do less boundary pushing than it should, this is the sort of hip hop record that shakes shit up big time, and suddenly it's not such a surprise that this is getting the big underground buzz AND major label attention it so strangely deserves. Quite possibly our hip hop record of the year, and yeah it came out last year, but it's our favorite this year so far too!
There are definitely a bunch of you out there who really dig the crazy technical progmetal stuff, the thrashier and more insane the better. Like Vektor, ferstance. You know who you are. Or rather, WE know who WE are, maybe we should say, since we love that sort of stuff too. We certainly sold a lot of the Confessor demos cd set that Divebomb put out a while back, and so we thought we ought to list this, another mathematically advanced Divebomb reissue. This one's a somewhat obscure tech-thrash masterpiece by the German band Deathrow.
Deception Ignored - what does that title mean, anyway? The deception failed? or it succeeded?? Anyway, Deception Ignored was Deathrow's third album, originally released in 1988. Their first two albums, Riders Of Doom aka Satan's Gift ('86) and Raging Steel ('87), were much more basic and barbaric Teutonic thrashfests, and also pretty awesome, but it was with Deception Ignored that they joined the ranks of such bands as Watchtower, Coroner, Voivod, Anacrusis, and Mekong Delta in the realm of progressive / technical thrash mastery. Probably the evolution had to do with the fact that they'd just acquired a new, more technically-minded guitarist. His chops seem to have rubbed off on the other guys in the band. So grab this and get ready for a dizzying performance. Deathrow on this album are still raging, speed-wise - and lyrically too, it's all sociopolitical subject matter. But their heavy riffage has become intensely convoluted, lashed to equally intense rhythmic complexity. There's a shit ton of weedly-weedly razor sharp guitar shred that's sometimes almost jazzy, spilling (in a precise fashion) all over these stop, start, spin on a dime song structures. Which also feature the occasional atmospheric segue - like the acoustic guitar intro to "Machinery", or the classical touch provided by the moody piano and church organ passage heard at the start of the math-mad epic instrumental "Triocton". Meanwhile, amidst all this incredible instrumental interplay, Deathrow's singer fits in where and when he can, his vocals sometimes shout-growled in an aggro manner, or at other times affecting a higher pitched, more "melodic" whine. Which kinda makes us think of Joey Belladona era Anthrax if they got into a total math-metal frenzy. Also, it sounds not unlike Confessor a lot of the time. So this is definitely for fans of that band, also the others mentioned, especially including those modern day prog-thrash faves Vector!
The cd booklet of this nicely done reissue includes lyrics, an interview with Deathrow originally published in Metal Forces magazine back in '89, and extensive new liner notes by Jeff Wagner, the prog-metal expert who also wrote the liners to that Confessor demos collection.
Metal heads around these parts have been completely obsessed with Deathspell Omega. And rightfully so. The first black metal band in a long while to totally reinvent black metal and make it their own. In a way that managed to turn lots of non-metal folks to the dark side while somehow remaining true and grim enough to keep the hardcore black metal elite satisfied. We mentioned in our review of the last DSO, that the best way to find out about the best bands, is to check out what the other best bands are listening to, and at the time, everyone from Leviathan to Nachtmystium to Crebain to Draugar were singing their praises. So when the word of a new DSO surfaced, we had the SF black metal horde showing up at the store all the time like kids at Christmastime, chomping at the bit for the new DSO. "Is it here yet?! Is It Here Yet?! IS IT HERE YET?" Well, it is finally here, and damn if it isn't even weirder and more intense and fucking amazing than we could have hoped for. Three tracks clocking in at about 36 minutes, of some of the most unique, idiosyncratic outsider black metal you'll ever hear. The first track starts off with four minutes of meandering and spacious post rock, a lilting melancholic soundscape, of finger picked guitars, big simple drumming, creepy whispered vocals, and snippets of ghostly disembodied voices, before the whole thing builds into a super angular minor key black metal burst of buzzing distorted riffing, arpeggiated melodies and blast beats that all sort of morphs into a very Ved Buens Ende sounding loping midtempo metallic groove, seasick and hypnotic sounding. The entire record is peppered with alien sounding melodies, stretches of ambient flutter, some otherworldly slow motion doom, strange industrial clatter and woozy head nodding arrangements, all aligned around and amidst more traditional blasts of black metal. So cool and so weird. This is indeed black metal through and through, but at the same time it's almost more of a weird avant rock record, incorporating lots of BM elements, making it that much more original and that much more timeless. Packaged in a gorgeous digipak with a huge booklet of BEAUTIFUL creepy artwork very reminiscent of Hans Bellmer, along with all sorts of texts, Biblical, apocryphal and otherwise.
The lp re-issue (after a cd reish a couple years ago) of one of those albums collectors would trade their first born for. Gladly. This is head-damaged, heavy Oklahoma psych-punk circa 1975, predating the Butthole Surfers by a solid decade but with the same references to Captain Beefheart and the Red Crayola. Not too many bands in the '70s sounded much like this, with maybe Pere Ubu,
Afro-Booty Musique! That's not just one of the song titles here, that's what this is. French techno producer Debruit makes his debut with this lively disc, that weaves both samples and rhythmic inspiration from various sorts of African music old and new (including stuff from "lost African VHS") into a slightly hip-hopped, drum-machine driven, largely instrumental techno funk full of fat, squelchy bass lines and infectious chants. It comes off like a mad, manic mix of the hyperactive, synthed-out sound of South African "Shangaan Electro" and the funky-but-fucked up approach of another aQ fave style, namely "Skweee"!! Syncopated, surreal like the cover art, exotic and energetic, great for a sweaty dance frenzy or fast driving in the car (simply sitting at home in front of the stereo, maybe that too, but you might not be sitting still for long). And track 7 is called "Zef", so now we know Die Antwoord didn't make that up.
Fans of skweee, of Shangaan stuff (particularly the Shangaan Shake remixes Honest Jon's put out), the electrified thumb-piano "Congotronics" of Konono No.1, and that great Francis Bebey "African Electronic Music" collection on Born Bad, all will hear things they like here, in one chaotic, jubilant, groovy jumble!
Next time, we'll probably have the double vinyl version of this too, plus also a remix 12".
Proving that the New Wave Of British Heavy Metal's bounty is seemingly limitless, Shadow Kingdom does it again with another killer NWOBHM find. Actually, we'd read about this band on the internet a while back and wanted to hear 'em ever since, finally here's a reissue of their only album, complete with bonus disc of demo rarities! We've barely listened to that disc, though, interesting as it is, 'cause we just keep spinning the actual album. That's one sign of a good record, another is that after only listening to it a couple of times, we felt like we already knew the songs, there's a lot of individuality here.
Deep Switch (named after a bass-boosting option on an amp one of them owned) and their Nine Inches Of God album, originally released in 1986, are hardly typical NWOBHM fare though. You might have guessed that from the cover art, a psychedelic cartoonish painting of a tripped-out, half-naked, lysergically melting nun (done by the guitarist's dad!) No, they're weird ones, these Deep Switch boys, lead by one "Reverend Nice"; irreverent, intelligent, idiosyncratic (just look at their colorful facepaint and top hats!). Combining a bit of a punk attitude with heavy metal chops, Deep Switch are sex-obsessed and anti-religious, making commentary on society and politics in songs that range from total prog epics to ahead-of-their time alt-metal (and one pretty ballad).
Lead-off track "Pigfeeder!" really threw us for a loop when we first heard it. NWOBHM... with rapping?? Well a little bit of rapping, but it doesn't sound like any "rap-metal" we've ever heard before. Not even sure if that was their intention. Weird but it works, in a Blondie "Rapture" man from Mars, eating cars kind of way, but it's actually saying something, while taking the piss at the same time. Ultimately "Pigfeeder!" is THEE super-catchy, uber-rhythmic song that Deep Switch shall be remembered for when the Big Book of Heavy Metal is written at the end of days. At the very least, in our book, it's up there with "Diggin' That Grave" by Jesters Of Destiny. But there's lots else on this album we dig too, other songs where the widdly guitars and falsetto vocals are put in more typically metal context, reminding us of Mercyful Fate and LA's Warlord at times. Another fave of ours would be the history lesson of "Time Machine", a poppy, proggy gem with lines advising a certain Harold not to "go down to Hastings".
So if you can deal with a little British humor in your old school metal (the killer guitars, catchy riffage, and vocal harmonies should certainly help), you should flip (for) the Deep Switch. And again, Shadow Kingdom do the reissue thing right, there's that whole other disc featuring earlier, different demos of several of the album tracks, plus some previously unreleased material, including a parody of their own "Pigfeeder!" in the form of a Christmas song called "The Festive Zone". And then there's the thick booklet, full of crazy photos, lyrics, and copious liner notes from Reverend Nice himself. Informative, and amusing - we loved the part where he talks about a pub gig at which their bass player Johnny Blade, unable to decipher the set list, comes over to ask what song they're doing next... when told, his response was "It couldn't be - I just played that one!". Classic. As is this album, in its way. Very much recommended.
"No, Def Leppard don't suck. Their first few albums are pretty great." So we said in a postscript to our review of Savage's Loose 'N Lethal last time. Well let's put our money where our mouth is, and do what we do here, which is write about music we like, dammit. So, here's Def Leppard's 1980 debut, On Through The Night. Despite the most ridiculous "space truckin'" cover art, and Def Leppard's eventual commercial hair metal success-to-excess trajectory, this is a kick ass album. A bona fide NWOBHM classic. Not over produced and over cheesed like some of their later million sellers. Though definitely pro and polished, heavier than you'd expect, and full on rockin', right out of the gate with the anthemic call to arms "Rock Brigade". Next up is the prescient "Hello America", Def Leppard dreaming big, some keyboard synths creeping in... but they're just an embellishment on that one song alone, as there's plenty of guitar riffage to go around on this disc! Lotsa snakey licks, some slide on the big beat of "It Don't Matter". Yeah, on and on through the night you'll hear Def Lep's six stringers Steve Clark (R.I.P.) and Pete Willis duking it out over Rick Savage's bass lines and the solid (two-armed, at the time) drumming of Rick Allen. While wailing over it all are the distinctive, nasally pipes of Joe Elliott (hmm, he's credited here with "throat" just like HR in the Bad Brains).
As the NWOBHM did, Def Leppard take the '70s sounds of British arena rockers like Led Zep and UFO and inject some new vitality and purpose. Youthful energy and all that. And they had learned their lessons well. (It took a few albums into the '80s before they fully fumbled the torch they'd been passed.) There's some mellower, melancholic moments (parts of "Sorrow Is A Woman", of course, ferinstance) but nothing like a ballad, this is mostly a headbanging good time with flashes of royal majesty.
A few further comments on this record: the Leps continue to prophesize their own impending fame with the cheering crowd mixed in on the urgent "Rocks Off". And "Answer To The Master" is just a classic heavy metal song title ain't it? As is (another prophecy?) "Wasted"...
Swedish thrashers Defleshed, whose previous disc Under The Blade was one of the ragin'est, catchiest, most METAL releases of '98, return with an equally fierce followup, the aptly titled Fast Forward! Energetic speed/death metal with no guitar solos. Like a buzzsaw to your skull, guaranteed to induce violent headbanging. Great songtitles abound: "The Iron And The Maiden", "Feeding Fatal Fairies", "Domination Of The Sub-Queen", "Lightning Strikes Thrice", "Snowballing Blood"...
Also includes two bonus live cuts.
One of 1998's best metal releases gets a digipak reissue with a multitude of bonus tracks! Harkening back to '80s thrash masters Destruction (whose "Curse The Gods" gets covered here), this hyper- andrenalized Swedish power trio somehow created what might
Fellow doom junkies, you'll agree: what could be better than a 3-way sludge split?? Especially when the three bands are all from Finland, 'cause you know we love Finland. Only one of the three bands here, the mighty Frogskin, had we previously heard, but it turns out, ALL of 'em are awesome, and very well-matched, stylistically. In fact, to tell the truth, at first it's hard to tell when one band leaves off and another begins. Demonic Death Judge (great name!), Semtex, and Frogskin each in turn dish out tremendously heavy, lumbering, loping riffage, with a liberal application of feedback, and rasping ugly vokills. Their sludge has a Sabbath-derived swing to it, for sure, and features plenty of psychedelic guitar shred soloing, especially from DDJ. So these three represent the warped Finnish branch of a doomed-out, drugged-up family that includes both Eyehategod and Electric Wizard in its lineage.
First up is DDJ, with three tracks, each over 7 minutes long, their dirty stoner grooves betraying a love of classic '70s psych and metal. They also aren't afraid of some shining melody in their songs, like on one of this album's highlights, "Beneath The Monument", which also makes good use of disturbing samples, layered and looped. Epic, glorious stuff, which is not what we'd usually say about sludge. Then comes the pot-lovin' Semtex, who boast the best and/or cutest logo. Their four tracks are more overtly drug-oriented, the band a bit like the Finnish answer to Bongzilla, delivering lotsa lazy, bluesy, doped out doominess. And then Frogskin wrap things up, their three contributions to this sludgey split taking it into an even filthier, nastier, crustier direction. It's been doomy all along, but now it's time to run and hide, kiddies.
Wow, what a wicked, wasted 3-way! Better than most single-band discs of this ilk we've ever heard. If it's any recommendation - and it is - we've been listening to this A LOT since we got it in. And are also hoping that a Vol. 2 is indeed on the way, as well as new full-lengths by all 3 of these great bands�
Though we haven't polled everyone, the general consensus around here seems to be that Demontage is a cool name for a heavy metal band. But is Demontage also in fact a cool heavy metal band? Yeah, they are, or we wouldn't have ordered a bunch to highlight! They're a fairly eccentric outfit from up in Toronto, Canada, a peculiar but exceedingly powerful power trio comprised of Abominable Reverend (drums), Perverted Priest (bass), and Spatilomantis (guitars/vocals), playing an off-the-rails mix of old school and more modern extreme metal styles with frenzied abandon and plenty of idiosyncratically Satanic spirit, more metal than thou, no doubt. The Principal Extinction is their 2nd full length (but first real cd, as their previous album Sacrilege 'n Miscreancy was but a cd-r release), consisting of six tracks that we can barely describe 'cause these guys are insane. The songs aren't short (in the 6-10 minute range) and boy do they cram a lot into 'em, from NWOBHM gallop to black metallic fuzz to proggy synth sizzle to majestic epicness to utterly doomy crush, always with aggressive riffs, ripping leads, thrashy drums, and (obviously) a LOT of twists and turns. Somehow it all flows beautifully, like blood from a demon's maw. Heck, Demontage is an appropriate name for them on account of how they mash together so much in their crazy compositions, which sound like, we dunno, Saviours on a lot of drugs? Danava doing an advanced version of Venom? Brocas Helm in a hellish hot tub with Celtic Frost? The vocals don't help us to pin 'em down either, as they're mostly gruff, but spiced with occasional high pitched screams, and there's melodic & manly cleanly sung parts too.
Certainly Demontage remind us a bit of the sort of anything-goes metal played by the diverse likes of Root, Dragonauta, and Sigh. But with much more of a denim and leather '80s beer drinking vibe, if you can imagine. Headbanging catchiness is a priority, in other words, but that doesn't get in the way of 'em being weird as well (& as hell). We wish more bands were willing to be both this darn metal AND this out-there original. Cool stuff, quite recommended.
Fans of the amazing Cambodian Rocks compilations we've reviewed in the past are definitely gonna want this one too, a collection compiled by the members of the modern LA-based Cambodian pop band Dengue Fever (longtime AQ faves) of their favorite classic Cambodian rock and roll jams from the sixties and seventies, a golden renaissance age for art and music in Cambodia, directly preceding the reign of the Khmer Rouge, who took over the country in 1975 and attempted to wipe out any and all traces of modern society, and as the liner notes point out, much of the music survived, but most of the musicians did not.
As with the Cambodian Rocks comps, the songs here are groovy and funky and fun, with shuffling rhythms, wild psychedelic guitar solos, warm wheezing organs, fuzzy surf guitars, and of course incredible vocals, the perfect mix of Western style rock and pop and Eastern style traditional folk music. Even though on the surface, the songs all seem sunshiney and playful, but there's definitely an element of pathos and drama, many of the songs are subtly maudlin and melancholy, there's even a song called "I Will Starve Myself To Death", but listening to it, with its jangle guitar and shuffly rhythm, you would never guess the grim title and perhaps lyrical content. There's also a killer cover of Sonny Bono's "Bang Bang", popularized by Cher, Nancy Sinatra and Terry Reid, and here it's gorgeously haunting, a waltzy bit of melodrama, with that immediately recognizable chorus, even in a different language. So good. We just can't get enough of this stuff, anyone who dug those Cambodian Rocks comps, or who loves the Sublime Frequencies collections, will no doubt go crazy for this too. There is definitely some overlap with this collection and the partially out of print Cambodian Rocks series, but there are definitely some tracks here we've never heard before (like "Bang Bang", or as it's titled here, "Snaeha"), and besides, the proceeds from the sale of this record will be donated to Cambodian Living Arts: www.cambodianlivingarts.org! So what are you waiting for??
