Glad to finally get to list something by these guys, an awesome local melodic metal band who we became fairly rabid fans of just from checking out their MySpace page a while ago, though when you hear 'em, you'll think its something we've been fans of ever since 1984 or so, long before MySpace or the Internet even existed, since they sound sooooooo '80s melodic NWOBHM / arena rock it's amazing. But they're a relatively young band from here in San Francisco, and this debut of theirs Allan here considers a top ten metal album of 2010, easy... and it's just a self-released cd-r, what in the old days you'd call a demo. Wish it was a real cd or vinyl album, it should be, these songs are really fucking good!
And please don't let the goofy name put you off, we were surprised too when when we first heard 'em, but Space Vacation are indeed one of the best '80s influenced, heavy but brilliantly poppy metal band we've come across in ages. With galloping riffs, shredding solos, catchy licks, stick twirling hard hitting drumming, and stick-in-yer-head choruses, what's not to love? Classic stuff. The vocals are key, the dude (who also plays lead guitar) is not afraid to SING. Though he'll also happily shut up and play his guitar, as on the Eddie Van Halen-esque instrumental break "Streaker". And the band as a whole is not afraid to be a little (or a lot) cheesy, but in a good way. Good enough to remind us of cool EARLY Def Leppard and other greats. And we'd put this up against anything today of that old school melodic metal ilk, like Priestess, Cauldron, whomever. And you ironic inde rock types can take solace in the clever, not as cliched as you'd think lyrics that both celebrate and subvert the cliches of heavy metal.
It's the pop element that puts this over the top, as our pal Glenn, another big SV fan, puts it, "it's like the most rudimentary NWOBHM from 1980 mixed with what you might get from a one-off juvenile indie-pop band formed as a joke by guys from Sloan and New Pornographers for a bachelor party for one of the members."
We'd already heard 6 or 7 of these tracks via their MySpace but the others, new ones, are cool too. There's a "blast off" count-down intro going into a track called "Space Vacation"... a bit forced perhaps, doing the band-name-song, but then they hit their stride with "Keith's Sister" and you realize you are on a rocket ride indeed. Songs that as soon as you hear 'em, sound like you've been rockin' out to them forever. And look out for the hidden bonus track(s) at the end... the extra-poppy drinking song "Wicked Hammid"! Something else to look for, online: the band's awesome/silly DIY practice space video for "Keith's Sister" on YouTube, here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kBREOCxXbH0.
If you couldn't tell, recommended, if you like to rock!
FYI We've also got a Space Vacation split 7" with an LA band called The Amplifiers, SV's side featuring "Keith's Sister", for those who want her on wax.
Talk about simultaneously awesome and obscure. Delving deep into '80s metal buried treasure, Stormspell's Days Of Yore division has come up with this double cd, rollercoaster ride of a reissue, that anyone into technical thrashing prog metal ought to utterly enjoy. It's from a Massachusetts band, Spectral Incursion, who never even released an album, just a bunch of demos and one ep. Way underground, mathy metallic music-making mania on display here, jawdropping and headbanging.
Unrestrained, raw and ripping stuff from young guys more concerned with coming up with cool new parts for their twisting, turning songs than in being popular. We're lovin' it. The jagged, splintered riffs and tricky time signatures multiply throughout these heavy, hectic compositions, with leads spiraling up alongside vocals that scream, soar, and roar. Each over the top track seems designed by/for the ADD afflicted, shooting off in a new direction every few seconds, yet not neglecting melody and a rock n' roll vibe. Intricate, eccentric, exhilarating - and we really like how the DIY-ness of this mitigates against any potential pretentiousness a la big time prog metal like Dream Theater. This really is some kids tossing their faves like Rush, Priest, Sabbath, Maiden, Slayer, and Fates Warning into a sharp-bladed blender on high. If you're a fan of such bands as Confessor, Atheist, Watchtower, Coroner, or Hellwitch, you should definitely check this out!
Disc one consists of demo tapes from 1988 and 1991, their four song ep from '88, and four tracks recorded in 2010 by the reunited band, doing old songs by pre-Spectral Incursion incarnation Graven Image, whose demos circa 1986-'87 occupy disc two, which also contains some video clips for your computer.
Super cool, constantly surprising, what this lacks in production polish they make up for in precision - and sheer insanity. As always, great to see a forgotten band this good (and gonzo) get their due. Complete with thick, slick cd booklet full of liner notes, lyrics, etc.
Sniffin & Snortin (parts 1 and 2!), Run & Hide, Bad Woman, Don't Say No, Wanna Take You Home...sound good? Those are some of the song titles on this classic women-and-drugs obsessed dumbo-rock Japanese psych album. It stars guitar whiz and massive stoner Shinki Chen (also of Foodbrain and oodles of other obscure Japanese psych outfits), bassist Masayoshi Kabe (from Foodbrain too), and singing drummer Joey 'Pepe' Smith -- a Vietnam vet whom you might know from the Filipino band Juan De La Cruz, whose album "Shake Your Brains" is one of the few that tops this for sheer truly stoned rock retardation (a good thing). Too bad we can't get those in anymore. But you'll hear at least one of their tunes on this, the second SG&S album, originally released as a double LP in 1972, which we happen to like even better than their 1971 LP "Eve" though Mr. Julian Cope made that one a "record of the month" on his website Head Heritage. Anyway we have this one, not that one.
Speed, Glue & Shinki, as you might imagine from their name, were a goddamn weird, messed up, completely wacked heavy psych/blues/prog band. So messed up that this time out, guest musicans wrote (and performed?) most of it! But it doesn't matter. And even when Joey plugs in a Moog synth to do a whole LP side devoted to the Sun, Planets, Life, Moon, and Angels, this never ever remotely gets pretentious and proggy (not that we don't like proggy). It just can't. Speed Glue & Shinki are primal, so primal, too primal. At least one track hints at the Stooges, some others Zeppelin, while the rest approximates a brain-damaged James Gang. Record collector types might recall the fancy, expensive Shadoks LP reissue that was available a couple years ago for about two seconds. We were enthralled with the lovely tiger cover art and the ridiculous rock and have been hoping ever since to bring in a cd version, and at last we tracked down a few copies that we had to order from Sweden, so act fast for your Speed, Glue & Shinki fix if you think you want it.
MPEG Download: "Red Doll" [/audio/speedgluered.mp3]
MPEG Stream: "Red Doll" [/audio/speedgluered.m3u]
MPEG Download: "Song For An Angel" [/audio/speedgluesong.mp3]
There are different kinds of heavy for sure. There's the grim black corpsepainted buzzing heaviness, there's the lurching lumbering knuckle dragging doom sort of heaviness, there's also the face melting noise rock sort of chaotic heaviness, and of course there's the conceptual heaviness, like "ooooh, that's really heavy, maaaan", and there's about a million different sorts of heaviness in between, all strains, some heavier than others, but then there's the mightiest heavy of them all, just a classic, pure, heavy metal heaviness. Few bands can achieve that sort of heavy purity, a rare confluence of killer riffing, howling throat shredding (but still melodic) vox, blasting pounding drums, shredding guitar leads, hooks galore, catchy choruses, all woven into a metal blowout that causes immediate headbanging, that could start a pit in a stuffy office, the power of the riff, the power of real metal.
This is a power Denver's Speedwolf wield like a bloodied mace. Before we even get to the music, all the signs are there. They're called Speedwolf to begin with. Their record cover is a badass binder art / side of a seventies van black and white drawing of a huge scythe and hourglass wielding cloak-ed skull headed death, hovering in the sky above a gang of Speedwolves, wolf headed toughs on motorcylces, cruising down the highway, there's also a naked woman wearing the skin of a wolf, looking sexy and howling at the moon, their logo is a wolf pentagram, and they have song titles like "Up All Night", "Out On Bail", "I Can't Die", "Death Ripper", "Ride With Death", "The Reaper" and of course "Speedwolf" cuz any heavy metal band worth it's salt has a namesake 'theme' song. So yeah, all the signs point to pure heavy metal heaviness, and the sounds inside do not disappoint. We've raved about past Speedwolf records, they even played our South By Southwest showcase last time, and blew EVERYbody away, we have been dying for a proper full length ever since, and finally here it is, with a handful of our old favorites re-recorded, as well as a clutch of new jams, with a massive production, the sound is crushing, and the songs of course kill.
Like a supercharged Motorhead, or a tighter heavier Venom, or like a cranked and kick ass version of our faux metal heroes Bad News, these guys kick out the jams, relentless and punishing, furious and frantic, but at the same time with that weird sort of positive heavy metal party energy that few bands can conjure without diluting their heaviness. We were most excited to see two of our favorite Speedwolf jams revisited, "I Am The Demon", which still sounds like a more metal Danzig, and includes a drum solo, complete with cowbell (which shows up here and there elsewhere on the record, and is another signifier of pure heaviness!), and of course "Speedwolf" which after a creeping ominous almost Maiden-y intro, really does sounds like a Motorhead 45 at 78rpm, and the rest of the tracks too, everyone sounding like some lost early heavy metal classic, but delivered with a ferocity that is undeniable. These guys have been toiling away in relative obscurity, it's about time the rest of the metal world took notice, and bowed down before these masters of metal. And while the vibe is definitely speed/thrash metal, this totally destroys all those other retro thrash revivalists, and transcends any mere metal classifications, and ascends to some sort of true metal pantheon on high. Where they belong.
Finally back in print and available again, the debut release from one of our favorite far out and fucked black metal bands EVER!! We made their more recent release, The Near Death Experience, our record of the week a while back, and their debut is just as good. Hewre's what we had to say about it when we first laid ears on this demented black gem:
Not a list goes by without a review declaring some record THE WEIRDEST EVER. So, okay, we can be a little hyperbolic at times, but it's just cuz we get so damned excited. But since we're always on the lookout for the weirdest records ever, it's not really all that strange that we might actually keep discovering some new weirdest record ever! They just get weirder and weirder. AND, as you probably could tell, it just so happens that we have a definite thing for bizarre black metal, the more fucked up and strange the better! And again, always being on the lookout for weirder and weirder metal records, we manage to stumble across quite a few. Recently we got a copy of a record by a band called Spektr, without a sleeve and a paucity of any useful information. But we were totally struck by its bizarre take on grim black metal, spending most of the record not blazing and thrashing, but instead, creeping through funhouse mirror ambiance, plodding mathrock doom, dreamy acoustic breakdowns, bizarre sound collages and lots of Jeck / Basinski style fuzzy smeary loops. Woah. Eventually we tracked it down, and learned that No Longer Human Senses had been released on the Appease Me label run by French black metal squad Blut Aus Nord! Not too long ago we reviewed the most recent release by Blut Aus Nord a bizarre and brutal, sprawlingly complex black metal record equal parts classic Norwegian style black metal, pummeling Industrial crunch a la Godflesh, creepy droning dark ambience and strange squiggly plain old weirdness. So when we discovered BaN had a label it made perfect sense that this Spektr record would end up there. No Longer Human Senses is definitely a black metal record, as is evidenced by the buzzing droning riffage and thrashing blast beats, some serious Darkthrone worship for sure, but that's really only a tiny piece of the whole picture. The bursts of black metal, marked by a particularly virulent strain of brutally brittle and harsh guitar sound, float through a twisting serpentine maze of random sound events, almost like a massive Christian Marclay installation. Haunting church organs, weirdly affected spoken word, all manner of creepy lilting melodies over lots of hiss and static and record crackle. Loops repeated over and over, but gradually decaying into stretches of fuzzed out shimmer, often erupting into bursts of super harsh black metal mayhem, only to fall apart moments later into a chaotic mess of buzzing, malfunctioning machinery, super distorted industrial sludge with more warbly minor key loops, all beneath thick waves of dense buzz and crumbling melodies, thick swaths of ambient blur and strange ghostly tinkles, peppered with brief snippets of classical music, found sounds, field recordings and random bits of sonic skree, the whole mess dropped into a swirly abyss of blackdrone and super creepy psychedelic ambience. This is one of those rare records that is so fractured and demented and wonderfully bizarre that is has you constantly checking to see what the hell it was you were listening to! Definitely one of our favorite new weird black metal records!
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One of our favorite Heavy Metal bands from the '70s and '80s, the underrated British outfit Spinal Tap, were surprisingly enough the subject of a documentary film, or 'rockumentary' if you will, back in 1984, entitled This Is Spinal Tap, when their career was, let us say, not at its zenith. If you can find a VHS copy, and a VHS player, it's worth checking out. Kind of like the more recent Anvil: The Story Of Anvil documentary you may have seen.
A little while ago, we discovered that the soundtrack to that Spinal Tap documentary had been reissued on vinyl, and ever since, it's been a steady seller in the shop - perhaps there's more Spinal Tap fans out there than we supposed. Also, the soundtrack, which serves as a 'best of' the band, is the ONLY way you can get any of Spinal Tap's music these days, as their actual albums are inexplicably out of print and seemingly impossible to find - even on the internets. Thankfully, this soundtrack lp contains the most essential of their greatest 'hits', as well as a smattering of rarities going back to the late sixties when they were more of a twee flower power psych rock band than the metal juggernaut they later became.
This album goes to 11 - that's how many tracks are on it. You get such Tap classics as "Big Bottom", "Tonight I'm Gonna To Rock You Tonight", "Heavy Duty"," Sex Farm", and "Hell Hole", that originally appeared on, respectively, the albums Brainhammer (1970), Intravenus De Milo (1974), Bent For The Rent (1976), Shark Sandwich (1980), and Smell The Glove (1982). But then, for the deep cuts, this collection delves way back to 1967 to dig up the title track of the band's debut single, "(Listen To The) Flower People". And there's also a great garagey freakbeat nugget, "Gimme Some Money", too. Oh, and who can forget Spinal Tap's almost parodic prog rock epic "Stonehenge"?
Yeah, for some strange reason, this band is often considered a joke. Ok, so some of their lyrics aren't exactly Shakespeare, and can even be construed as sexist (not to be confused with sexy!). And musically too, Spinal Tap sometimes stumbles across the fine line between clever and stupid. But we maintain that they're in fact good songwriters. These tracks, with all their heavier than thou bluster or portentous proggy synthiness, are also full of catchy hooks that will stick in your ear, big riffs and majestic melodies. They deserve recognition alongside some better known bands of their era, like Zeppelin and Sabbath, Blue Oyster Cult and KISS� indeed, you can almost hear their influence on those acts and others. Or perhaps it was the other way around.
Seriously - this not only is this one of our favorite soundtracks, to one of our favorite movies (and one of the funniest movies), of all time, but it really IS also one of our favorite heavy metal albums, of all time, too!!
First time on vinyl since 1984, comes in deluxe gatefold package in black on black cover (echoing the "none more black" graphic design of Smell The Glove), with original liner notes from the authoritative Rocklopedia Brittanicus. (By the way, it's also still available on cd too, with their "Christmas With The Devil" single as a bonus.)
The This Is Spinal Tap soundtrack album now reissued and remastered, with 2 versions of "Christmas With The Devil" added as bonus tracks! An all-time classic, we don't have to tell you that. "Tonight I'm Going To Rock You Tonight", "Big Bottom", "Sex Farm" and all the rest never sounded better!
A few weeks ago we listed the debut, limited edition 7" single from Finnish/American hardcore hypno-punk supergroup Split Cranium. That was the teaser for this here Hydra Head full length, which includes that single's A side (the B side was a Daniel Menche remix) "Scepters To Rust", along with seven other (mostly) short sharp shocks of this band's noisy, gnarly, D-beat driven loud/fast attack. Featuring our pals Aaron Turner (Mamiffer, Isis, House Of Low Culture, etc.) and Jussi Lehtisalo (Circle, Pharoah Overlord, Steel Mammoth, etc. etc.) along with another of the guys who plays with Jussi in Steel Mammoth. Here's what we said about that track on the single: "Cranium splitting heaviness for sure. Pounding drums, kick ass riffs, massive HEAVY production, some seriously crusty punk blowouts woven into more metallic chug and crunch, peppered with wild squiggly metal shred freakouts, and bizarre echo drenched vocals, that make this sound very Circle-like indeed." Well, a Circle-like version of aggro crusty HC punk anyway (if you've got Circle's Panic cd from a while back, you've had a taste of this). And that pretty much goes for this whole album, starting from the 1:47 blast of "Little Brother", Split Cranium cranking out the raw distorted punkrock in race-to-the-finish, fist-in-your-face fashion. None of the first three tracks break the 2 minute mark, in fact, they get shorter and shorter. But then, with "Blossoms From Boils", the band starts to groove a little more, that's where the Turbonegro-doing-NWOFHM comparison we made in our 7" review comes in. They stretch that one out to almost 5 minutes, and as cranium-splitting headaches go, it's a darn catchy one. A couple tracks further along, we come to "Black Blinding Plague", a track that's about 50 percent just feedback, before the crush and churn and sore throat vokills come in and the party really starts. No wonder they got noisician/droneologist Daniel Menche to do that remix! (Though we wonder, was Merzbow not available?). And then a song called "Yellow Mountain" gets to gallopin', upping the "New Wave Of Finnish Heavy Metal" quotient while also bringing in some soaring, clean, chant-like vocals (mixed under/above the gruff shouty ones). Beginning to hear some early Circle here, circa Meronia, but more punked out for sure. That awesome headbanger is followed by the album's grand finale, the 8+ minute "Retrace The Circle". It takes the sound of "Yellow Mountain" and gets more epic and Isis-y with it, building into grand spaced out drone heaviness and ending with a totally distorted noise flourish. Wow. We're sold.
For a project such as this, with key members living many time zones apart, who probably spend more time emailing each other than they ever get to spend jamming together in the same practice space, it's damn convincing. But then, we'd expect nothing less from Jussi and Aaron, et. al. And while Circle and Isis fans should of course be interested in this, we feel Split Cranium is good enough to garner fans on their own merits. If we'd never heard of Circle or Isis or Steel Mammoth, we'd still be digging Split Cranium's freaked out HC.
Cd version comes in a nice oversized digipack sleeve, & there's also vinyl but we weren't able to get enough to list this week, hopefully more will show up soon...
A follow up to last year's successful "Masses" cd, on which UK electronica duo Spring Heel Jack edited and manipulated the raw improvisations of a host of Downtown NYC (and beyond) jazz musicians, in what was one of the the best and most original entries yet in Thirsty Ear's pretty great "Blue Series" of happenin' now jazz. Like that disc, this one also fortunately eschews the obvious "let's add some techno beats to this trumpet solo" kind of thing you might expect from an electronica remix project, and really approaches the music from within, SHJ using their computers carefully to meld disparate performances together into something that definitely remains jazz -- but with an undercurrent of glitchy crackle and drone. It's kind of like a free jazz version of Radian or Pluramon (to cite two computer-aided post-rock/electronica projects, both faves around here). The SHJ fellows are really listening and reacting, like improvisors do, and there are some great musicians on here for them (and us) to listen to. There's two returnees from the "Masses" line-up: legendary British saxophonist Evan Parker and Blue Series curator Matthew Shipp (on Fender Rhodes). And then there's also the likes of trombonist Paul Rutherford, drummer Han Bennink, violinist Ed Coxon, bassist George Trebar, trumpter Kenny Wheeler, bassist John Edwards, and, the oddball in the bunch, guitarist Jason Pierce of Spiritualized fame (who must be responsible for the distorted guitar noise found on "Maroc" and elsewhere).
With that kind of talent on hand, SHJ had a lot to work with, and they did a great job, creating layered compositions that retain the player's voices even as they are juxataposed into unimagined new situations. The results are moody, melodic but abstract, rarely (but sometimes) abrasive, nicely noir-ish...android jazz for some Blade Runner coctail bar. Dark, dense, lovely.
Jazz purists might scoff, but actually we'd rather listen to this than a lot of straight improv stuff done by the above musicians -- the combination of the instrumentalists' unfettered expression and SHJ's editing and structuring (and sonic additions) really works well here. Recommended.
German power metal that's just a little rougher, heavier, and ballsier than your general run of Helloween/Hammerfall clones. True, they've got catchy choruses and can write a great "pop" song, but they haven't forgotten that they're a heavy METAL band first and foremost. That said, just like on their previous album, they do a great Depeche Mode cover ("People Are People")! Like Iron Fire,
This is one of those releases that used to only be available online from the Rhino Handmade website...but I guess they didn't sell enough 'cause a little while ago they started selling 'em to stores. So, we had to get a few copies of this, one of Allan's favorite Rhino Handmade titles (his absolute favorite is of course the long-gone Stooges' Complete Funhouse Sessions boxset). It's the unreleased album (plus many more unreleased tracks) by the Stalk Forrest Group, a band who later changed their name to the much better known, more successful Blue Oyster Cult! If you like the early BOC records (which were reissued, and reviewed here, a few years ago) then you may well want this. All the early-daze hippie jamming psychedelic aspects of the band revealed on those albums are definitely to the fore here, from back when "heavy metal thunder" was but a line in a Steppenwolf song and big arenas weren't on these guys concert schedule -- instead they played gigs like a "swinger's nudist party at an off-season summer camp in the Catskills" according to the extensive liner notes that Rhino Handmade, in their usual deluxe fashion, have included in this cd's booklet. Guitarwise, though, they show off the skills that later made them the subversive semi-heavy metal icons they became. Even if they'd never made it as BOC, this record made by a gaggle of absurdist New York college boys into West Coast ballroom style acid rock (including hints of Byrdsian country stylings) would be a minor classic... (We've just got a few, and aren't really sure if they're really still available or not, so if we run out please don't get mad.)
On this new disc, the Starfuckers do a song called "Eternal Soundcheck", demonstrating an awareness of what most people are going to think about 'em...and it's true, most folks just aren't gonna get this. But, we urge you, give it a chance!
Italy's Starfuckers, if you're not familar with 'em, play an abstract, sparse, and totally unique brand of what they term 'rock concrete', something that kind of sounds like This Heat falling down the stairs, but trying to be really quiet about it. Percussive and full of near-silences, their almost-randomly-improvised-sounding music uses guitar, drums, and electronics to take the 'glitch' aesthetic out of the laptop arena and into that of the live band. It's as if they played 'normal' songs, then removed about 70 percent of the music, and shuffled the remaining sounds around. It's counter-intuitive, disjointed stuff, yet every dissonant chord played on the guitar, every bassy electronic rumble, every drum hit seems to have meaning, unknowable meaning. Attentive listening will reveal compelling rhythms and structures. If you dig the likes of US Maple, Supersilent, Kevin Drumm's solo guitar stuff, or that last guitar-less Fushitsusha record, you'll enjoy the Starfuckers. Indeed, you probably already do.
Ok, let's talk about "Infinitive Sessions": the first three tracks ("Blues Off", "Drive On", and "Off Blues") seem to follow on pretty directly from the stuff on their previous album "Infrantumi", kinda being more of the same (which is fine, 'cause there's not nearly enough of this stuff wethinks). One difference though: "Infinitive Sessions" is wholly instrumental, there's none of the Italian spoken in sinister whispers that cryptically caressed your ears on their prior releases, which perhaps is a pity.
Then the aforementioned "Eternal Soundcheck" ups the crackly drone quotient quite nicely for the next 12 minutes, before the final two tracks ("Funked X" and "Vamped X") reveal that the Starfuckers have gotten into a new and unexpected 'funk' bag! Not funk in any accepted form, of course, just the suggestion of funk via a 'funky' guitar sound. This caused their label to compare this record to The Contortions, Big Flame, and James Brown, but that's going way too far. They're MORE 'no wave' than The Contortions, and if the JBs ever laid down 'grooves' like these, The Godfather of Soul would have fined them, fired them, rehired, then fined and fired them again. Maybe a jazz cat like Miles Davis coulda gotten into this 'funk', but even he never took THIS much drugs. These tracks sound a bit like "Rated X" from Miles' "Get Up With It" turned into a 'Glitches' Brew' of funk fuckery.
We've never liked the term 'post-rock', as applied to such bands as Mogwai, Slint, A Minor Forest, and Shellac, however it seems to us that what the Starfuckers play is trully 'post-rock', in a very literal sense, and apparently that's the idea. The Starfuckers website (www.nanananan.it/starfuckers/) features the following statement from one Henry Clitus Colagetti, the President of something called CAMC (the Commitee for Abolition Of the Middle Class): ROCK IS DEAD, WHAT DRAGS ITSELF FOR MORE THAN TWENTY YEARS IS NOTHING ELSE THAT ITS CORPSE CONTINUOUSLY EXHUMED BY CULTURAL INDUSTRY.
ROCK IS DEAD IN 1975 WHEN LOU REED PUBLISHED "METAL MACHINE MUSIC" THAT DECREED THE END OF ROCK MUSIC.
"INFRANTUMI" BY STARFUCKERS IS THE FIRST ROCK ALBUM AFTER "METAL MACHINE MUSIC".
THE NEW ROCK, RESPECTING THE BASIC ELEMENTS THAT CONSTITUTE WHAT WAS ROCK MUSIC - REPETITION AND SIMPLICITY OF PLAYNG - RISES AGAIN BASING ON THE PRINCIPLES OF ASYNCHRONY, UNTUNING AND NEGATION OF EGO.
FUTURE IS ALREADY BEHIND YOU.
He's talking about "Infrantumi" but the sentiment applies to this new release as well, of course.
Best band ever? Well, WE rate these guys with Reynols, the Thai Elephant Orchestra, Fushitsusha, Faust, and few others in the pantheon of fucked but totally original and brilliant musical units.
First domestic full-length release from this strange & mysterious Italian group that specializes in minimal, experimental noise and sometimes Stooges-style freak rock (not really the latter on this album though)...
Wow, exciting times at our shop. Even several of the Starfuckers' biggest fans here at AQ had never heard THIS before, this crucial Italian band's debut lp originally released in 1990. As promised in our Record Of The Week review of the Starfuckers' Ordine '91-'96 collection just a few lists ago, the Holy Mountain label (who know their secret history of rock and roll all right!) has now done a reissue of this early Starfuckers platter, a dark slab of Stooges worship containing a dirty dozen tracks so trance inducingly raw n' powerful we can only imagine the entire band were stripped shirtless, bare torsos smeared with peanut butter, Iggy Stooge style, whilst recording this. The blurry black and white cover photo suggests as much, though the peanut butter is not visible...
If, at our recommendation, you picked up the Ordine cd (which is out of stock at the moment - we have more copies coming from Italy soon, never fear) then you have already heard a handful of early Starfuckers rockers from before they went totally gonzoid experimental. The six songs from the band's 1991 Brodo Di Cagne Strategico mini-lp included on Ordine demonstrated that despite their ultimately unique, counter-intuitive, almost "anti-rock" sound for which we consider the band geniuses, they surely had their roots in "actual" rock and roll, very much Stooges influenced (hence the "Funhausen" tag that Holy Mountain head honcho JW likes to apply to 'em). If you liked the Brodo Di Cagne Strategico stuff, then Metallic Diseases is for you. And anyway, how can it not be great with that title?
Relentless punked out noiserock riff repetition that's fuzz laden, feedback filled, with drawling English language vox all sneered and snotty, and song titles like "Dead Metal City Blues", "Western Man", "Cold White Cancer", and "U.S.A.". Godly garagey stuff for sure, loud and pounding. There's maybe a jangling, poppier side to some of it ("Shake Off" in particular), and that's a real cool time too, but what you've got mainly here is a down on the street death trip, Starfuckers on a search and destroy mission to be your dog... this left hand path eventually leads them to the inclusion of some Funhouse style saxophone squawk, skronk, squall on the penultimate track "Flower Lover", and thence to the seven and a half minute final cut, "Grado Zero", the only song sung in Italian, and heavily laced with wiggy electronic FX, which of the trax here most strongly foreshadows the Starfuckers' later experimental direction, it could have appeared on Sinistri alongside "Ordine Pubblico" for sure.
So, it's as if the Starfuckers guys got together in 1990, and decided, ok, sure, we'll make rock and roll, yeah, let's channel the Stooges, 'cause we want to START at the END, and then push past those limits. So, once they had manifested themselves as the apotheosis of "rock" at its punkest and rockest, on Metallic Diseases and Brodo Di Cagne Strategico, they then moved on to the next phase of their career to utterly DECONSTRUCT "rock" on the Sinistri album and beyond... Why they did this, how they decided these things, what happened? We don't know, we can only wonder.
But, while cool and interesting and all, that doesn't even matter. Let's put it this way, if Metallic Diseases was the only record that the Starfuckers ever did, its reissue would/should still be hailed as the discovery of a long lost gem of timeless Stoogified psychedelic ugly-noise-punk-rawk that belongs up there with the output/outbursts of such acts as Union Carbide Productions, The Heads, Spacemen 3, High Rise, Brainbombs, and (more recently) Vincent Black Shadow. That it was only the beginning of the Starfuckers' sonic explorations, a program of experimental rock n' roll reinvention that took them somewhere that no other band has ever gone, makes it even more special...
Totally recommended, as if you couldn't tell. Sadly for those of us who happen to prefer cds, this reissue is vinyl-only, although it does include a download code for mp3's.
There are very few bands we can think of who have so fully and utterly invented a sound for themselves, sounding like nothing else on earth before, and possibly since. Italy's Starfuckers are such a band. And it's a sound that fascinates us. Unique, true originals. One of our favorite bands (and by "our" we mean us, and anyone who belongs to the secret club of possibly demented Starfuckers lovers). Which goes a long way to explaining why we're making this Record Of The Week, a disc by a band with such incongruous and impolite name, and a perhaps problematic sound as well, for some. This disc consists of a reissue of their best / most definitive albums, 1994's Sinistri, and a never-before-on-cd mini-lp that preceded it, plus other, extra rare tracks. 16 tracks in total, almost 70 minutes of music. Or since it's the Starfuckers, should we say "music"? One definition of music is organized sound, and this stuff is organized in its seeming DIS-organization. Deconstructed music. Counter-intuitive rock n' roll. Genius. Here's what we've said about 'em before, in a review of their final album, 2002's Infinitive Sessions, currently out of print:
"Starfuckers...play an abstract, sparse, and totally unique brand of what they term 'rock concrete', something that kind of sounds like This Heat falling down the stairs, but trying to be really quiet about it. Percussive and full of near-silences, their almost-randomly-improvised-sounding music uses guitar, drums, and electronics to take the 'glitch' aesthetic out of the laptop arena and into that of the live band. It's as if they played 'normal' songs, then removed about 70 percent of the music, and shuffled the remaining sounds around. It's counter-intuitive, disjointed stuff, yet every dissonant chord played on the guitar, every bassy electronic rumble, every drum hit seems to have meaning, unknowable meaning. Attentive listening will reveal compelling rhythms and structures."
Yes, indeed, but that's only part of the story, and why this disc is THEE Starfuckers disc to get, if you're ever gonna get any Starfuckers, and you should. We said they established their own sound, but they built up to it from a more familiar basis. The earlier tracks here demonstrate that, while the Sinistri stuff is the best example of the special qualities of Starfuckers alluded to above.
Those earliest tracks, the first 6 here, come from the band's 1991 mini-lp, Brodo Di Cagne Strategico. They're indicative of the band's roots in all things Stooges-y, being totally badass, driving, dark post-punkish numbers laced with shards of noisy, "out" guitar and free jazz saxophone squall... This is the sort of Starfuckers splooge that our pal JW, now head of the Holy Mountain label, once so succinctly dubbed "Funhausen" (i.e. the Stooges' Funhouse meets experimental composer Karlheinz Stockhausen). Spacemen 3 fans should dig as well. And that avant-garde, Stockhausen side of the equation comes more and more to the fore as this disc progresses...
The Bordo Di Cagne Strategico tracks are followed by two compilation appearances, both "covers". You get their utterly unrecognizable (what did you expect?) version of the Beatles' "Dear Prudence" from a cd that came with Bananafish magazine #11, and also their appropriately monomaniacal take on "Mechanical Man", from a Charles Manson tribute upon which they appeared alongside the likes of Skullflower, Controlled Bleeding, and Eugene Chadbourne, among others. We'd like to think that John Lennon would have dug the Starfuckers (if any Beatle would, Yoko Ono's husband would). Maybe Charlie would too, he's crazy enough.
Then, tracks 9-15 are from Sinistri. The main course. The masterpiece. The Starfuckers aesthetic, fully realized, celebrates 'asynchrony' and minimalism, and that's what you get here. Are you ready? It's a mysterious, compelling soundworld, one that stokes the imagination and seems somehow unassailable in its avant garde gravitas. Serious stuff, but still somehow rock n' roll. In spirit, more than anything else. Anti-rock too (with the slogan printed here: "new music means destruction of ego"). These songs/sounds are quite curious, cryptic... Blats and bursts of chiming, chunking guitar. Blips and bloops of eerie electronics. Sudden percussion, sudden silence. Feedback. Suspenseful rhythmic passages. Much moody rumble and hiss. Bassy detonations, chaotic jumbles of piano. And, crucially, the calm, semi-spoken vocals, deadpan declamations in Italian, like we're being poetically lectured by one of the Starfuckers while the rest of 'em disassemble rock n' roll as we know it. How can we describe the Starfucker's Sinistri further? We don't even understand it. But we love it.
Oh, towards the end, Sinistri's got the Starfuckers "hit single" (as far as we're concerned!), the song "Ordine Pubblico", also released on a Drunken Fish 7" back in the day... harking back to the Brodo Di Cagne material, "Ordine" is a sinister, cyclic, claustrophobic rock song, the brilliant last gasp of their Stooges-ness, hypnotic and handclap driven, with subversive lyrics that go something like this: "Criminale / Comunisti / Vagabondi / Terroristi / Prostitute / Extremisti / grazie / grazie..." You don't need to know Italian to know what he's saying.
That's all followed by Sinistri's final track, "Macrofoneie Ia", which sounds like what might happen in the studio after the musicians had all gone home or passed out, if the machines then started "playing" themselves. Clicks and buzzings, as of patch cords being unplugged, or plugged in. Or, you could say it takes the Starfuckers "Eternal Soundcheck" (a song title of theirs on another album) notion to an extreme, as if you recorded not the soundcheck at a show, but the band just setting up beforehand, in near silence but for when electrical connections are being made. Then, the disc ends with a previously unreleased track from 1996 that certainly wouldn't have been out of place on the original issue of Sinistri.
Hearing Starfuckers for the first time isn't just like hearing music you haven't heard before. It's also like hearing an IDEA of music that you've never had before. And, better yet, listening to Starfuckers for the 100th time, it remains fresh/strange, you still are piecing together the hidden structures of what's going on...
While we said that they sound like no-one else, we HAVE referenced 'em in various reviews, to say that other bands maybe remind us a bit of them, usually due to their fractured and confusional compositional ways... Radian, US Maple, Supersilent, Sim+Otomo, even Tony Tears, have all garnered comparisons by us to Starfuckers for some reason or other, but still none of 'em (and nobody) really does what the Starfuckers do. Or ever will.
If you've never heard Starfuckers, and are at all curious (you should be, if we're doing our job) this is the disc to get, as we said. And even if you are a fan, who already owns the long out of print Sinistri cd, you probably need this anyway for all the other rare tracks included. Record Of The Week? Reissue Of The Year! Well, maybe not for everyone, but those select few who 'get it' will really be grateful. And this, with the inclusion of their earliest, most rockin' material, is the most 'accessible' Starfuckers we could suggest.
Italy's Sometimes Records (who were thrilled that we appreciate the Starfuckers as much as they do), have packaged this with a cd booklet containing everything we could expect in the way of photos, graphics, credits, lyrics, and liner notes... the latter in Italian, though we glean references to the Stooges and Demetrio Stratos of '70s Italian proggers Area, possibly another inspiration to them.
FYI, btw, Holy Mountain will soon be doing a vinyl reissue of the Starfuckers rare 1990 debut lp Metallic Diseases, so watch out for that as well!
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
This is a great record from a band recently profiled in the last issue of Bananafish magazine (and they cover "Dear Prudence" on the accompanying cd, remember?). For those who didn't happen to read that, the Starfuckers are an Italian group who combine krautrock, Stooges and experimental new music influence into a radical new aesthetic. As AQ-mascot John Whitson succinctly dubs them: "Funhausen."
Holy shit, does this RULE. This is the sort of stuff we LOVE, and miss, and wish more bands could still pull off. And these guys at least, most definitely can. Heavy, heady, intricate, proggy, instrumental old school style math rock, the bass thick and distorted and low slung and massive, the drums wild and pounding and octopoidal, the guitars crunchy and chuggy one second slithery and spidery the next, the songs constantly shifting gears, from gnarled and frenetic to spacious and epic, locking into super propulsive post rock churn, before slipping into weird tangles of melody and then back again. The band compare themselves to Keelhaul, Mahavishnu Orchestra and ALL, that last one seeming out of place until you actually hear these guys, they lace their chuggy churn and dense mathiness with super catchy little melodies that do in fact sound a little like ALL (or maybe the Descendents), although if we had to come up with some sonic references, it would probably look more like this: Don Caballero, June Of 44, Rodan, A Minor Forest, Bastro, Dazzling Killmen, Breadwinner, Crain, Rumah Sakit, yeah, you probably get an idea of what this stuff sounds like, but maybe just not how goddamn good it sounds, or how good these guys really are, check the sound samples, if it was 1995, these guys would be THEE band, catchy and heavy and hooky, with a massive Albini style production, it takes a lot to keep instrumental rock from being boring, but there's NOTHING boring about the 3 long songs on this disc, so tense and intense, intricate and complex, but not simply for complexity's sake, all the instruments busy as fuck, but not overplaying, instead, just a relentless and dizzying blast of hooky heaviness and majestic mathiness, another record we have been listening to nonstop since we got it in, and one we're probably gonna regret not making Record Of The Week... So totally great!
The '60s/'70s psych reissue label Akarma comes through once again with this gem! England's Steamhammer had a heavy name and lotsa chops, but never really made the big time. Their first three albums were British blues rock incarnate, real good at that but not our cup of tea really. THEN came "Speech", their swansong. Something happened (lots of drugs, maybe?) -- it was real different. This is an unusual album for sure. Probably not what Steamhammer fans at the time were expecting: Psychedelic doomy prog-tastic epic instrumental slaying, with fuzz fx, jazzy percussion, and emotive vox. It's not metal but it's got a lot of what we like about metal that's for sure, and kicks ass on most of what came out in '72. Fans of some of the real heavy underground bands from the era like the Groundhogs, Lucifer's Friend, Socrates Drank The Conium, even Il Balleto Di Bronzo ought to check this out for sure! Unfamiliar with those obscurites? Well just imagine Led Zep gone off the rails. Creative, deftly timed/structured songs full of psychedelic atmosphere. From quasi-religious 20th century avantgarde interludes to manic guitar rippage, from gorgeous vocal lamentations to jammy improv spaciness, this is AQ-approved prog weirdness for sure. The 22 minute "Penumbra" that opens the record erupts from a spooky three minute intro into sheer pulse-pounding rock trio shred, then dives into a bass-heavy dirge from which a vocal chorus emerges...and on they go. Everytime we play this for someone who we think *might* like it, boy, they *really* like it. This gets a big thumbs up from all the heavy/psych/prog heads here at AQ!!!
You were warned. We reviewed this Circle side project's insane debut ep a couple weeks ago. Now, here's the full-length follow-up. The battletoads are back!
Not Sacred Steel, Steel Attack, Ritual Steel, or Steel Assassin. Not Wooly Mammoth. Or Mammatus. Or Mastodon. Or Pelican's "Pink Mammoth". Not Titan Steele, or Virgin Steele, or Steeler. It's STEEL MAMMOTH!! A metal band, presumably? Well, no, not quite. It IS another example of the many flirtations our favorite Finnish prog-psych band (Circle, including offshoots like Pharaoh Overlord and Krypt Axeripper) has always had with the elements of heavy metal (sonic, visual, lyrical). But the high-concept of "Circle does '80s metal" that you might expect from the band name and cover graphics and band pics with spikes and leather isn't quite what you actually get here, these guys being too clever and creative and crazy to do the obvious thing. Really, if you want to hear Circle-goes-metal, they come a lot closer on certain songs from Circle albums like Sunrise and Tulikora, and the recent, ever so slightly black metal bewitched Katapult. Not to mention, way back on their debut Meronia, with all its Helmet-style heaviness. And probably the most metal they've ever been is on Pharaoh Overlord #4.
So no, Steel Mammoth isn't a metal band, or even a joke metal band (though there's definitely some tongue in cheek joking going on). It's pure WTF? weirdness in the guise of a metal band. More catchy than crushing, it's a hitherto unheard hybrid of Circle's trademark hypnotic pulsations, a relaxed pop sensibility, tossed off hard rock riffing, moody tension, and sensitive vocals delivering ridiculous lyrics. Lyrics that are so ridiculous they're genius, lyrics that would make Monster Magnet or Manowar laugh and crumple up their notebook page if they'd written them. For instance, lines like: "barbarian lords/we ride alone/until we're just a pile of bones", or "lonely banzai rhino blackout leather/volcano hideout of the mountain owl/masterplan suicide war machine/lady death on the steering wheel", or "black diamond thunder dragon/beast of vampire torture/silver locusts on the desert sky/acid rain wasteland"! We also hear about a "multiheaded lion", "switchblade messiahs of hate", "midnight witches", a "metal infant", and the "powersweat of the demonwolf" to pick some other gems at random. Wow. Death and destruction and kicking ass seem to be the themes... yet there's some thought and depth to it all, extending to a self-constructed cosmology for these "nuclear barbarians" on their journey to the center of the "atomic mountain", that's depicted in a schematic in the cd booklet. We even detect a sincere sentimentality to some of this -- when album closer and title track "Atomic Mountain" finds the band sweetly crooning "Down, down, down I go" you FEEL it on some meaningful level, really.
As for the music, most of the songs share a skeletal Judas Priest vibe, stripped down and mellowed out and infused with effects. The opener, "Black Team", reminds us more of a handicapped Rolling Stones, fronted maybe by Danzig, but odder even than that would be. Several tracks later, "Nuclear Barbarians" is reprised from the ep, not really sure why they did that, though it is a cool song -- love how they pronounce nuclear, "nuck-leeyer". But it's followed by something completely different, the 11 and a half minute "Commando Leopard", an instrumental that starts off with primitive krauty rhythms before entering into a long beatless stretch of atmospheric, electronic spookiness. Like we said, WTF? Or should we say, NWOFWTF?
Ohh yeahhh. All the Krypt Axeripper fans here have been waiting for this. Circle fans too. Same thing, sorta. Krypt Axeripper, you know, that was the very entertaining, brilliantly stupid, supposed "heavy metal" side project of our Finnish friends Circle, enshrined on a four song ep earlier this year. After Krypt Axeripper could the NWOFHM get any more ridiculous?? You be the judge, they certainly tried: ta dah, STEEL MAMMOTH!! Seemingly a similar high concept (that being, Circle's metal obsession goes too far?) but actually more confusional than you'd think. Sure the cd booklet is filled with awesome D&Dish artwork and pisstake photos of the truly chuffed band members posing in full leather and studs regalia. But then, check out the music. As with Krypt Axeripper, there's a quota of crotch-rock riffs but it's also so oddly poppy, more like some sort of twisted rock n' roll alternative to the alternative than anything really made of molten metal. English-language lyrics (about Satan and radiation, "metal blade warriors" and "scorpion wizards", and suchlike metallic subjects, 'tis true) are weirdly crooned over shuffling beats and guitars that whilst fully fuzzed aren't exactly wielded by Hanneman/King. It's absurd, and absurdly catchy. When they sing something about how "battletoads explode in stereo" you'll be humming along (if not quite headbanging) and won't even bat an eye.
Looks like the Steel Mammoth trio of Garfield Steel, Rema 7000, and Juicyifer (hmm) and their pal Krypt (all pseudonyms for Circle folks) have invented a new cartoony subgenre all their own, jokingly initiated perhaps but inadvertently (?) awesome. Extra dimensional, post apocalyptic, astral travelling silliness that's part pop, part metal, and yes, part Circle ('specially on "Slow Death" with its unmistakable motorik drumming). This first attack from Steel Mammoth clocks in at 5 tracks, 18 minutes. But get this, future members of the Steel Mammoth Army: there's a Steel Mammoth full-length album in the works now, too! Look out, the battletoads have only begun to explode in stereo...
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
This being Circle side-project Steel Mammoth's 4th disc, its mere existence pretty much answers the question about how serious they are, or not. Or maybe just creates new questions. If they're entirely tongue-in-cheek, then it's a really elaborate joke. If it's not a joke, then they're insane. Either way, we love Steel Mammoth! As always, they claim to be crusaders of the New Wave Of Finnish Heavy Metal, it says NWOFHM in big letters in the cd booklet. Where you'll also find some remarkable photos of the band cavorting around a campfire, or at least we think it's the band, though we're pretty sure that this makes 'em the first ever metal act to include a proudly pregnant lady in their ranks, decked out in what appears to be black leather heavy metal maternity wear! Meanwhile, one of the men is posing in a horned helm, massive and metal, apparently handcrafted, that looks very (ridiculously) medieval indeed.
So, Steel Mammoth are certainly bizarre. And silly, and Finnish, and, yeah, metal. Metal but not quite HEAVY metal. Steel Mammoth have a lighter touch for the most part. Sure, there's some distortion - but not always. The vocals are hardly ever, maybe never screamed, usually delivered in a weird rolling-r drawl, lazy and sinister. Heck half the time it sounds more like some kind of indie-rock pop, but all the awesome and not so subtle metal signifiers that infest the music and lyrics make it so much BETTER. But we probably don't need to tell you all this, if you're like us you have all their other discs already.
Nuclear Ritual, not to be confused with their debut ep Nuclear Barbarians, or for that matter their first album Atomic Mountain, is another killer set of tunes all right, catchy and confusional, from rousing opener "The Shakall" onwards. Some -titles- could be "ordinary" metal songs ("Sacred Death", "Cerebral Acid", "King Of The Damned", sure) but others would obviously be unacceptable to most metal bands ("Gargantuan Boom Boom" being the worse offender). And when one listens, none are ordinary. Some aren't even at all metal (the bulk of title track "Nuclear Ritual" is a meandering murky psych instrumental sorta in the mode of "Commando Leopard" from Atomic Mountain). Most of the tracks are kind of a hybrid of metal/not metal, like "Mammoth Sun Bacteria", which is sunny all right, in that it sounds like Iron Maiden gone bubblegum, bright and bouncy. Elsewhere, though, there is some convincingly authentic metal guitar soloing, and the distorted vocals on "Sacred Death" are almost scary. And that's the genius of Steel Mammoth, those vocals fit there just a perfectly as do the Doorsy Jim Morrison stylings that pop up on the track "Atomic Chainsaws".
Oh, and we've got to mention the last song, "Extinction", 8+ minutes long, boasting a lumbering stoner doom riff a la Witchcraft or Jex Thoth. The song eventually morphs into an extended lysergic jam worthy of Circle in its krautiness, with a bassline that Rick Rubin woulda loved on Bloodsugarsexmagic, that never seems like it will end and when it does you'll want to start it again... With results like this, Steel Mammoth are doing something right, even if they're playing metal "wrong". And anyway, when Japan's Metalucifer can make albums wherein every single song title includes the words "Heavy Metal", and still be taken (sort of) seriously, what is and what isn't a joke?
All in all, another highly entertaining, highly radioactive, album from the truly unique entity (well, along with all the other incestuous NWOFHM acts) that is Steel Mammoth!!
The Steel Mammoth is back! Clanking across the frozen Finnish tundra, bellowing mightily... well no, not quite. This 'New Wave Of Finnish Heavy Metal' project from members of AQ faves Circle is not exactly what you might expect (unless you've heard them before). Despite the Satanic/Barbaric cover graphics, with cartoon death's heads grimacing in horned helmets in front of a glowing pentagram, and the various other oh-so-metal signifiers like the lyrics, song titles, stage names, etc., Steel Mammoth's unique brand of "metal" doesn't sound all that metal, though it sure is strange. These guys call it NWOFHM. In our review of their first full-length, we coined the term NWOFWTF? to describe 'em. Maybe it is a parody, but if so they take their joke pretty seriously (this is their 2nd full-length after all).
Ok, if you haven't heard 'em, but have heard Circle, imagine that band in leather and spikes (which they are known to wear anyway), having been exposed to strange drugs and radiation, as well as repeated spins of records by The Cult, Manilla Road, Voivod, uh, Dire Straits, the new Darkthrone, and Judas Priest's earliest, more psychedelic stuff (Rocka Rolla!). Then imagine something totally different as well. Right from the start they are deliberately NOT particularly heavy, playing boogie-metal riffs, yes, but in such a laid back, mellowed out fashion it's ridiculous, and ridiculously catchy. They do rock out a bit more on track two, "Black Gold Tyrant", picking up the pace further on the likes of "Steel Factor" and "Nuclear Gyration" (the latter really kicking up some heavily-effected dust), but those tracks are pretty poppy too.
Meanwhile, Steel Mammoth's "radiation rock" is adorned with drawled vocals, delivering amazing absurd lyrics that must be tongue in cheek - informing us that "flesh is weak, metal is forever" and singing lines like "crystal daybreak in the valley of blood/bone and steel crash forever non-stop/heads keep on rollin', battlecries die/corpses keep rottin', vultures take the sky". Yet even when you think the lyrics aren't serious, Steel Mammoth's music will take a turn into emotive, introspective moodiness that can't be funny, and you realize the singer is in fact crooning quite earnestly. Maybe. But there's definitely a method to their madness, one that involves a complex mythology of their own making, about atomic eggs and other cryptic mysteries. The moments of true beauty (like the lovely, sleepy "Waiting For The Goat") don't seem intentionally bathetic at all, even though grins and giggles are never far away. Let's face it, we're happily confused by Steel Mammoth, moreso even than by other NWOFHM efforts from Krypt Axeripper, Motorspandex, and related acts.
While we wish we could take it all completely seriously (or think that it was supposed to be taken completely seriously), knowing the Circle guys we also appreciate their strange humor... Heck it even says ON THE CD TRAY that this is their "disappointing second album". But we must disagree. No disappointment at all. We're lovin' it, from the moment we saw the cover art, through each of many, many spins.
Attention fans of '70s heavy hippie rock!! Another primo proto-metal reissue from the fine folks at Rise Above Relics, who brought us the fantastic Bang boxset we listed not long ago. 'Tis a band/album well deserving of the deluxe treatment given here, especially welcome since only other Steel Mill reissue we've seen in the past was somewhat shoddy looking. THIS, though, is really nice, packaged with an elaborate illustrated 32 page booklet, in a slipcover adorned with new art (while the original, quite effective, surreal cover painting remains preserved within). They've renamed it too, the original lp from 1971 (there it is again, brothers and sisters, Nineteen Seventy Freaking One!!) was called Green Eyed God, this gets a new title of Jewels Of The Forest (Green Eyed God Plus) on account of all the bonus tracks included, and the remastering job, and other improvements.
So, with a name like Steel Mill, you'd expect this British band to be industrial-strength HEAVY, maybe even coming close to Black Sabbath territory. Well they do... and they don't... heavy, yeah, but opting for artier, more progressive atmospheres a lot of the time. Opener "Blood Runs Deep" is a good example, combining big, loping, rather urgent guitar riffage with passages of much mellower, jazz-inflected psychedelia via languid saxophone. Give that one a listen, and if you're like us, you'll know you want this right away. That "jazz" element, represented by what sometimes seems like pagan riot of horns, gives Steel Mill a vibe of mystic, exotic grooviness, putting 'em rite in there with underground tribes like Comus and Cromagnon. Some of these songs sound like rock rituals, like "Treadmill", with its fuzz and (literal) grunt.
Ultimately, they're an excellent, eccentric "heavy progressive" outfit, a la early King Crimson (you can be sure they loved "21st Century Schizoid Man"), Gnidrolog, Gravy Train, Tucky Buzzard, Wild Turkey, Sweet Slag, Steamhammer, East Of Eden, Murphy Blend, Amon Duul II, Culpeper's Orchard, Blackwater Park, Necromandus, etc.
Their acid rock guitar solos and lumbering riffs lean towards the Sabbath, but there's also gentle ballads ("Turn The Page Over") and fluttering flute (featured on the moody "Black Jewel Of The Forest", and elsewhere). Not that, as we've pointed out before, Sabbath themselves didn't indulge in some of their own flute flutter now and then! Steel Mill balance the light and heavy with aplomb, often in the same song. Darkly dreamlike and outre, yes, but also heavy enough for any proto-metal head. If someone were crazy enough to try and compile a collection of 1971's heaviest riffs, they'd definitely have to give Steel Mill some attention. (Er, although technically, some might quibble, as while this was recorded in '71 and the "Green Eyed God" released as a single then, the lp itself was apparently not released until 1972, and then just in Germany, with a UK release only appearing in '75.)
The original album is great all by itself, but we're also digging the bonus tracks. There's 9 of 'em, including songs from a 1972 single, as well as five unreleased studio demos of garagey popsike recorded in 1970. And, one last song - a new one, recorded by a reunited Steel Mill in 2010, "A Forgotten Future, A Future Past". And you know what, it's pretty good! Better than you might expect, actually, fitting in remarkably well. Nice how a lovingly done reissue like this can give an long lost band a new lease on life.
Arguably the definitive recording by the man who has been called the Welsh Dylan, Meic Stevens' 1970 debut Outlander has been finally reissued in an affordable format (after getting the deluxe but super expensive Rhino Handmade treatment a couple years back). Panned upon its release as a Dylan / Syd Barrett / Donovan derivative, it has since gained an earnest following among purveyors of obscure acid folk and psych-folk releases (as well as fans of retro-Welsh grooves like Super Furry Animals) for its inventive use of sitars, tablas, and flutes. Full of idyllic and romantic allusions to fogotten lands of yore, Stevens puts a more raga spin on his arrangements than Dylan ever would have, which definitely sets this apart from mere style-copping. Another essential necessity for any psych-folk collector!! So good.
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
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Their first album, f'n amazing drums/standup 'lectric bass/geetar instrumental action. Post rock, metal, jazz, hardcore -- these terms don't matter, it's Stinking Lizaveta from Philadelphia and they rule. One of the best live bands I've ever seen (sez Allan). They've done two AQ instores, two of the best. If you like Gone, King Crim, AC/DC, Mahavishnu, The Champs, Don Cab, etc. get with the program and get anything and everything by Stinking Liz.
High-adrenaline, deliriously complex, hard-hittingly heavy multidimensional power trio music that's part metal, part jazz, part punk, part prog. Gorgeous stuff played with supreme power and passion. Telepathic precision, improv awareness, and hella guitar heroics. They've been around forever and just get better and better. But they started off pretty good in the first place, as you'll hear here!!
That's right, one of our favorite bands, the ever-touring, ever-incredible Stinking Lizaveta (name taken from Dostoevsky's Brothers Karamazov), have themselves reissued their first album of f'n amazing drums/standup electric bass/electric guitar instrumental action. Post rock, metal, jazz, hardcore -- these terms don't matter, it's Stinking Lizaveta from Philadelphia and they rule. One of the best live bands we've EVER seen. They've done two AQ instore performances in the past, two of the best. And when they played in SF and Oakland last year, they destroyed. Don't fail to see them if you get the chance. If you like Gone, King Crimson, AC/DC, Mahavishnu, The Fucking Champs, Don Cab, Melvins, Gore, Breadwinner, Ruins, etc. get with the program and get anything and everything you can find by Stinking Liz. Especially including this, the new reish of their debut disc. It looks pretty much the same as the original release on Compulsiv, but it's got an unlisted, hidden bunch of previously unreleased tracks tacked on!! Five songs from the same Steve Albini overseen sessions as the album proper. They got left off the album's original release back in '96, but now the band can't figure out why (and we can't either, they're prime Stinking Liz awesomeness), so they've been added on for your extra listenin' pleasure.
Is there any other band that's SO GOOD live that I (Allan) would actually plan a trip somewhere thousands of miles away almost entirely on the basis of getting to see 'em play? 'Cause that's what I'm doing for Halloween -- flying to New Orleans, which would be fun anyways but is gonna be extra-awesome 'cause this Philly-based, all-instrumental power trio will be tearing down the house at Checkpoint Charlie's on the edge of the French Quarter, as they apparently do every Halloween. And as if to pile on the excitement, what shows up at Aquarius this week but a brand new Stinking Lizaveta opus? Yay! Their fourth album finds 'em doing what they do best, adhering to their math rock + jazz + exotic flourishes + sheer rock and roll exuberance formula, with perhaps a little bit more stoner rock added to the equation this time around. Imagine an instrumental Spirit Caravan melded with The Fucking Champs and Gone...something like that. Heavy, sinuous, emotive, grandiose, intimate, anguished, epic, melodic, HEAVY. It's not a perfect album, though -- the drum sound could be better (or at least the drums could be not so loud) sez Andee, and it suffers as all Stinking Lizaveta records do in comparison to their spectacular live performances. Basically, they are SUCH a good live band that it's just hard for them to ever make an album that's nearly as good as they are in person. I love their records, but they really don't compare to the band on stage. Their intense playing, telepathic interplay, and sheer energy are all there...but not as much as you get live. That they're such a formidable proposition live works against their recordings in another way: they probably just assume that if they just go in the studio and kick ass like they do on stage, they'll make the best album ever. Of course, it's not quite that easy. Still, Caught Between Worlds is worlds above almost everything else in the post/math/instro/stoner rock realm... Recommended -- get this and also don't miss 'em if you get the chance, they're on tour right now!
We've been waiting for this for a loooong time, the new, third (duh) album from one of our favorite bands, the amazing Philadelphian power trio Stinking Lizaveta. The first thing to say is that we like how the front cover shows band members seated
For those who need to know more, let's give you the basics: This is ROCK. Goddamn. An instrumental trio of godly Les Paul guitar, hard-hitting mathrock drums, and virtuoso upright electric bass. It's not exactly metal, it's not jazz, but it's heavy and tight and blows away most other rock outfits on the planet, live especially. And "III", with somewhat fuller production than past efforts, reminds us that Stinking Liz kick ass in the studio too. Imagine Black Flag/Gone mixed with King Crimson, or AC/DC playing Mahavishnu instrumentals, or The Champs falling in love with each other, moving to the country, and practicing yoga. Those are woefully inadequate comparisons, of course, but that's cause this band is its own incredible thing. With "III", they've added some synth and violin to the mix -- and even some half-buried vocals on the very first song -- but primarily what you're going to hear is the basic guitar/bass/drums trio, simply cookin'. With gas. Fuckin' huge propane tanks of it, exploding left and right. Whoops, but then let's not forget the moments of delicate, Eastern-tinged post-rock bliss to be found here as well. Lizaveta's multi-genre rock synthesis results in a unique and varied album, from the tension-buildup of a slowburning track like "Tenuous" to the Frippian ambience of "Diana" to the psychedelic soulshiver of "Naked And Alone" with its doomy Black Sabbath bassline and Yanni's lengthy Fushitsusha style blues-psych guitar blowout. The brothers Papadopoulos (Yanni, guitar and Alexi, bass) and drummer Cheshire Agusta do all this and more, with sincerity, passion and might.
Joe Lally (Fugazi) released this on his label Tolotta, best known as the home of stoner rock heroes Spirit Caravan. I'd really like to see both SC and SL go on tour together, that would be something...
For a band that's proudly "always on tour" (and have been for the better part of the past 15 years!), the band of Philadelphians known as Stinking Lizaveta don't make it out here to San Francisco nearly often enough, in our opinion! (And when they do, we always request they play an instore here at AQ, just so we get to see 'em twice.) So, not having had the pleasure of attending a Stinking Liz show for far too long, getting in this brand new album is, well, the next best thing. It also might be the best Stinking Liz recording yet. Steve Albini (no slouch) was behind the board for the first five of their albums, but this time 'round they've switched things up production-wise and recorded with heaviness guru du jour Sanford Parker (Pelican, Indian, Buried At Sea, Samothrace, Minsk, Bible Of The Devil, etc.). With more overdubs and a thicker sound, or something, this just immediately impressed sonically. While it's by now commonplace to remark that any studio album from this all-instrumental, more and more metallic "doom-jazz" trio can't quite capture the sweaty, gleeful intensity and exuberance of their live performances (how could they?), this one still certainly excels as an at-home, loud listening experience, revealing subtle nuance of light and shade while also pulverizing massively when they tilt towards the heavier side of that so-called doom-jazz thing. (Really, what are they? They've been rightly welcomed into the metal realm, specifically the stoner/doom scene, but the upright electric bass points to jazz, and they display signifiers of mathrock, postrock, prog, fusion, and crustyhippiepunk as well... let's just say Stinking Lizaveta ROCK and be done with it.)
And even though it's their sixth album, they have no problems conjuring the usual Stinking Liz magic in the songwriting dep't. The feel and finesse of SL's style of tightly wound jams is in full effect, these ten tracks packed with all the power and prettiness we expect: Menacing, calm-before-the-storm moodiness. Surging grooves. Eruptions of exotic, trebly guitar god soloing. Ripping riffage. Dynamic stops and starts. Sheer beauty and sudden complexities.... You get plenty of what we might (confusingly?) term 'Earthless-condensed-and-gone-classical' geetar wailin', wired through the choppy chunky chuggery of song structures that sound like Confessor on SST.
Fans of the band will be seriously chuffed, and if you haven't heard 'em before this would be a fine introduction as any (short of seeing 'em live of course - but heck WE got into them in the first place from hearing their debut cd, not at a show). Sacrifice And Bliss currently stands as the authoritative album from this band about whom we've waxed rhapsodic so much before, that all we can say is if you haven't gotten into 'em yet, please do so now. Of course, we don't expect EVERYONE to like 'em, though we do feel sorry for you if you don't...
Oh, Stinking Lizaveta, why do we love you so? We'd count the reasons but it's tough to write about a band that's like, one of the best bands EVER, we'd have to say, particularly if you ask Allan. We'll wax poetic about 'em, for sure, but it's gonna just sound like fanboy hyperbole. And having said that, can you expect an unbiased review here? Hell no, we're proudly biased regarding this virtuoso instrumental three-piece (rock god guitar, Energizer drums, upright electric bass) from Philadelphia. What we'd really like to do is just humbly suggest that you GO SEE THEM PLAY whenever you get the chance, which is more likely than you might think, since they're indefatigably touring pretty much all the time. If only like five percent of the people reading this right now are moved to sometime go see Stinking Lizaveta for the first time on our recommendation, we can feel like we've done y'all a service, since we're super duper sure that anyone who does will be amazed and become big fans too. Who can resist the exuberant, enthralling instrumental prowess displayed by this telepathic trio playing their unique blend of mathy metal, post rock, and heavier-than-thou hippiepunk jazz?? (They call their music "doom-jazz" by the way.)
This new album, their fifth (as always, engineered by Steve Albini) is an excellent demonstration/distillation of everything that's great about Stinking Liz (though we'll offer our usual caveat that they're EVEN BETTER live, you just can't entirely bottle/record that magic). These 16 new songs are some of their best yet, full of the ponderously head-nodding riffage, gorgeous arcs of lead guitar, and explosive rhythmic excitement we expect from 'em. There's moody tension throughout, with clusters of dense note-spirals building to ultimate release. Slow-burners like "Willie Nelson (Tired Of The War)" coexist with the sheer metallic chug of "Indomitable Will" and the darkly psychedelic storminess of "Cyclops", to offer a few examples, these elements prevalent all across this disc, no tracks lacking. And despite being an all-instrumental band (but for Yanni howling into his guitar pickups upon occasion, as on "Soul Retrieval") this isn't just a techy display of chops, it's passionate creativity drenched with sweat and emotion. Another all-instro trio y'know we love is The Fucking Champs, but Stinking Lizeveta are waaaay more soulful. They come a lot closer to the aesthetic of Earthless (another of this list's highlights), but instead of untethered interstellar exploration they compress and complexify that jamminess into tightly-wound compositions. Stirring stuff. And soooooo recommended.
Supremely awesome instrumental rock trio of guitar/drums/upright electric bass from Philadelphia. Last weekend they played a beautiful and energetic show to a lucky crowd at the TipTop bar a couple of blocks from here. And last year they did a great Aquarius instore performance. This is their brand new disc. If you like old Gone, or Fripp, or previous AQ-list Record of the Week honorees The Champs, you must bow down to Stinking Lizaveta. Meditative virtuoso impassioned metal/jazz explosive bliss!
aQ-beloved, all-instrumental metal/jazz/punk/prog power trio Stinking Lizaveta just won't quit. Thank God. Year in and year out, they make genius records, tour tirelessly (playing to perhaps not excessively large but always extremely enthusiastic audiences - naturally, since they're one of thee BEST live bands you're ever gonna see!), and just keep getting better and better. They have a well-deserved cult following (folks you know who you are, of course you don't need to read this review, just know there's a new SL album and come get it!!) that should be getting bigger with every record and tour. This album, their lucky seventh, is especially representative of the band's dedication and will. 'Cause earlier this year, Stinking Lizaveta's badass drummer Cheshire Augusta was struck by a hit and run driver while riding her bicycle in the band's hometown of Philadelphia. Fortunately, she survived the accident but had to endure surgery and painful therapy. But did that stop her from completing this album, and going out on tour a few months later? No sir!
If you're not yet familiar with the magic of Stinking Lizaveta, what this telepathic trio can do with abundant energy, incredible chops, and endless creativity, well please pick this up and listen (also, go see 'em perform if you get the chance 'cuz as all who've seen 'em will acknowledge, no matter how good they are on album, live is even better). Along with drummer Cheshire, the brothers Yanni and Alexi Papadopoulos (on guitar and upright electric bass, respectively) bow to no one in terms of majestic math-metal musicianship, crafting tracks that somehow meld together classic rock bombast, atmospheric post rock vibes, and jazzier, noirish moodiness. Plenty of heaviness, but also so much feeling and emotion and lighter moments of great beauty. And of course, no singing, none needed! While every member of this tight unit are virtuoso players, special mention must be made of Yanni's sheer sinuous psychedelic guitar heroics and his ripping riffs galore. He's a master, of "we're not worthy" caliber. There's something downright spiritual about his tremulous, ecstatic playing - and the music of Stinking Liz in general.
Ok, that's (almost) enough superlatives. Let's just say that Stinking Lizaveta's eighteen years and counting career of kicking ass in their utterly unique fashion are fully embodied here. Heck this has a bunch of our favorite Stinking Liz jams on it yet. As always, we know their fans will want this, but we really want to induct more new folks into the Stinking Liz fanbase. So let's say, did you dig the latest Six Organs Of Admittance? Well try this out too, it takes certain instrumental elements of that to whole 'nother level. Or, how 'bout a cross between Golden Void and The Fucking Champs? Sound good? Here it is, but better! Then mix in both Black Sabbath and Dave Brubeck (RIP). Yup, if you can imagine, it's in here.
And once again, this boasts a powerful production job from Sanford Parker (the switch they made on their previous opus Sacrifice And Bliss, from longtime engineer Steve Albini to Sanford P was, as it turned out, a pretty good one). Though we said the live SL experience can't be really captured in a recording, this comes damn close, especially if you play it LOUD! Includes 2 cd-only bonus tracks.
Some years ago, we were all freaking out about a compilation called Chains And Black Exhaust, a killer mix consisting of obscure, '70s heavy funk music, all from ultra hard to find singles and such, none of which was even identified, though curious folks have since figured out the tracklist... One of those mystery tracks, "You Know", turns out to have been by this outfit, Ohio's Stone Coal White. It's from one of their two rare 45's, circa 1972, and a's and b's of which are compiled together on this archival release, along with "four previously unissued tracks, found in the basement of a now-condemned motorcycle gang hideout in Dayton, Ohio." Which is a good story we'll happily choose to believe! It sure SOUNDS like music from a black motorcycle gang's basement, super raw stoned blaxploitation grooves full of wah wah chicka chicka guitar, with almost dubby sounding lo-fi production, lots of distortion and psychedelic echoey effects. They do a couple badass covers, both Bill Withers' "Ain't No Sunshine" and Curtis Mayfield's "Hell Below" (with their singer doing a spot-on Curtis impersonation on that one!), and their own jams have some of the early drugged-out Funkadelic feel. Yeah, good stuff! Fans of another C&BE alumnus, Black Merda, ought to love Stone Coal White. You can thank uber-digger Josh "DJ Shadow" Davis for doing the archeology on this one, and releasing it via his Cali-Tex imprint.
Oh, and we can't resist mentioning something we noticed, if you look up Stone Coal White on YouTube, this is the top rated comment under one of the tracks that's been posted: " I 'v e j u s t m a d e l o v e t o m y w i f e w i t h t h i s p l a y i n g . W h a t a g r e a t a r t i f a c t o f b l a c k r o c k . "
Not '80s metal, not '70s metal, this is '60s metal. Or at least, heavy hippie psychedelic garage rock to be more precise. The Shadow Kingdom label, who seem to go for cult current metal bands and even more obscure reissues, reached pretty far back for this one, all the way back to the late sixties (the recordings collected here date from between '65-'70 as far as we can tell). Stone Garden were from the Pacific Northwest, predating the Seattle grunge scene by a couple decades... But if they'd been born later, we could almost imagine 'em on Sub Pop, playing shows with Mudhoney and, uh, Soundgarden, yeah.
Pounding drums and bass, wild jamming organ, and plenty of throbbing distorted guitar, that's what you get from Stone Garden. No, it's not Black Sabbath (it never is) but this ought to appeal to heavy psych, proto-metal heads into Blue Cheer, Bubble Puppy, Sir Lord Baltimore, Iron Butterfly, Fraction, Negative Space and the like. For the era, and considering their age (in the pictures here, Stone Garden are really young looking, though shaggy-haired, teenage kids still in high school), this was on the HEAVY side of the blues rock spectrum most definitely. Not all of it, but enough of it. "Assembly Line", ferinstance, is an appropriately grim lament, laced with acid guitar soloing. They were into Cream and Hendrix, you can tell.
Throughout these 15 tracks, production quality varies, some material was recorded in a real studio, others in a basement home studio, still others in a living room, or live on stage. So this collection has got a patchwork production vibe for sure, but that doesn't stop Stone Garden from rockin'. And when they did make it into a studio, they took advantage of it, you gotta love the freaky tape speed manipulation studio shenanigans that make "Grayworld Forest" an even weirder place to wander than the title suggests.
Stone Garden's music has been reissued before, originally on a limited edition (long out of print) vinyl by Rockadelic in the '90s, and also on compact disc by Gear Fab, but this Shadow Kingdom cd edition is the best, with a bunch of previously unreleased bonus tracks and a nice booklet full of liner notes, vintage photos and, on the back, what we're guessing was the b&w flower power sleeve of their sole 7" release, circa 1969, with the boys looking really REALLY young on it. Which means you can flip the booklet around and have it as a the cd cover instead of the crappier looking "Stonehenge" cover inherited from the Rockadelic lp version, if you like.
Though it may not always seem like it, these are blessed times in which to live. That is, in regard to the cd reissue of various record collector "holy grails". Sooner or later, it seems like every highly coveted, whispered-about psych/folk/prog masterpiece gets a reissue - recently, for instance, records by Joakim Skogberg, Bobb Trimble, Moolah, and Cold Sun. Of course, these reissues often as not go right back out of print all too soon, but that's the way of the world. The point is, at least we get a chance at 'em. We mention this on the occasion of this cd reissue of the privately-pressed Stone Harbour LP from 1974, not to imply that it's of uniformly mindblowing, out of this world quality, no not quite, but still it's pretty good. And when it's bad, it's maybe even better, 'cause this basement hippie multi-instrumental duo from Youngstown, Ohio had the shambolic, stoned DIY thing down, this album achieving a primitive, fucked up brilliance despite (or because of) the hissy lo-fi homebrewed production and the musicians' lack of technical chops. Imagine Bobb Trimble jamming with George Brigman, perhaps after listening to records by Syd Barrett and Uriah Heep, and getting super wasted and emotional, that's what a bunch of this sorta sounds like... well we mention Uriah Heep 'cause they do, this album's typewritten thanks list specifically highlighting Heep's keyboardist Ken Hensley, definitely an inspiration for all the ornate spacey synth sounds zapping in and out of the songs here.
We'll admit, though while the holy grail hype is mostly right, Emerges IS a bit hit or miss. Not every Stone Harbour song is a brilliant gem. But when they hit, they hit! You could happily buy this for the haunting likes of "Grains Of Sand" and "Summer Magic Is Gone", alone. But there's plenty more besides. With lots of lovely lalalas, acoustic strum, and lysergic electronic effects, this is a weird, magical mix of melancholic murk (drifting soundscapes like "Thanitos") and more grunged-out, garagey rock n' rolling (on the likes of "Rock & Roll Puzzle"). Heck, they fully boogie it up on "Still Like That Rock & Roll" (one of the aforementioned misses, but not without its charms).
As usual, Lion provides a jam-packed cd booklet, with lyrics and pics and as much background info as they could dig up (Stone Harbour's Rick Ballas blessed this reissue, but declined to be interviewed for the liner notes). This disc also includes four additional bonus tracks, recorded in 1975, that fit in quite nicely with the album tracks, the highlight among 'em being "Witch To You", a song that sounds sooo much like a lo-fi, real-deal version of the doom-prog vibe AQ faves Witchcraft are conjuring today. Most likely, it's 'cause on that track, Stone Harbour were heavily influenced by both Black Sabbath and Roky Erickson, much like Witchcraft are too, albeit from the further remove of a couple extra decades.
What more to say? Psych fans, we've done our duty, please check out the long lost Stone Harbour and be amazed.
All right, time to get yr underground proto-metal kicks! Remember the new album from San Francisco longhairs Dzjenghis Khan we highlighted last list?? Well THIS is exactly the sort of thing those retro-stoners were going for. Step up for an authentic '70s hard psych experience. Stonewall's rare, awesomely fuzz riffed record was recorded in '69, but not actually released until 1974, and even then without the band's knowledge, due to exploito-label shennanigans. Read the liner notes for more about that. (Actually, other sources claim this was recorded circa '71-'72, and then released in '76, we don't know what to believe, but either set of dates sounds plausible.)
Stonewall pump out stompin', rockin' boogie, durn heavy for '69 (or '71), fronted by an expressively raspy vocalist, gripped by the spirit of rock n' roll at its countercultural best. He also busts out the occasional harmonica wail. But it's generally guitars to the fore, and fuzzed-out. There's some Hendrix and Cream influences of course, maybe Led Zep too depending on when this really was recorded, and we're treated to some total organ jammin' blues rockin' on "Try & See It Through", while "Atlantis" hints at the slightly proggier riffage of Captain Beyond's debut....
Definitely for fans of Sir Lord Baltimore, Dust, Bang, Jerusalem, etc. Also if you remember a much more recent (but very retro) band from the '90s called The Want, who did a disc for Southern Lord, this sounds pretty much just like them. Which is cool 'cause we really digged The Want. Maybe they really digged Stonewall?
Oh, and yes, this IS the same Stonewall album that was previously reissued on cd some years back by the Italian label Akarma, with a different cover and title (Akarma called it Stoner, and the cover had a wall of Marshalls, with blood seeping from several of 'em.) Presumably this is the how the original lp really looked.
Hmm. We really should have gotten these listed a few months ago when they first came out, but we were debating with ourselves about whether we really needed to write a review that explained how awesome the Stooges are or not. I mean, we figure most AQ customers are hip to these punk rock pioneers, right? So basically, our recommendation boils down to this: if you don't have these albums, BUY THEM NOW. If you don't like 'em, we can't help you. But we think you'll like 'em. Some of the most primal yet avant-garde heavy garagey punk metallic rock n' roll ever made. Of the two albums, debate can rage as to which is most essential. We don't need to answer that question here. Get 'em both. "I Wanna Be Your Dog" is on the debut, whereas you get all the crazy saxophone freakouts on Funhouse.
Now what about if you do have these albums? Should you buy 'em again 'cause they're now "deluxe"? Well, yeah. They've got an extra disc apiece of alternate takes and unreleased material. Damn!! For instance, the full version of "Ann" on the second disc of the s/t package is awesomely super sleazy -- we love it. And don't you wish you could buy a "new" Stooges album every week? Take this historic opportunity! With one caveat: if you happen to be a lucky owner of the Rhino Handmade Funhouse Sessions box set, you might not need the deluxe version of that album, as we're pretty sure (though we didn't do any exhaustive research) that all the extra material on the second disc also must have appeared somewhere on the many discs of that amazing (and long out of print) box set.
Hmm. We really should have gotten these listed a few months ago when they first came out, but we were debating with ourselves about whether we really needed to write a review that explained how awesome the Stooges are or not. I mean, we figure most AQ customers are hip to these punk rock pioneers, right? So basically, our recommendation boils down to this: if you don't have these albums, BUY THEM NOW. If you don't like 'em, we can't help you. But we think you'll like 'em. Some of the most primal yet avant-garde heavy garagey punk metallic rock n' roll ever made. Of the two albums, debate can rage as to which is most essential. We don't need to answer that question here. Get 'em both. "I Wanna Be Your Dog" is on the debut, whereas you get all the crazy saxophone freakouts on Funhouse.
Now what about if you do have these albums? Should you buy 'em again 'cause they're now "deluxe"? Well, yeah. They've got an extra disc apiece of alternate takes and unreleased material. Damn!! For instance, the full version of "Ann" on the second disc of the s/t package is awesomely super sleazy -- we love it. And don't you wish you could buy a "new" Stooges album every week? Take this historic opportunity! With one caveat: if you happen to be a lucky owner of the Rhino Handmade Funhouse Sessions box set, you might not need the deluxe version of that album, as we're pretty such (though we didn't do any exhaustive research) that all the extra material on the second disc also must have appeared somewhere on the many discs of that amazing (and long out of print) box set.
One of our favorite "folkpsych" albums of last year was the debut full-length Tale Spin from the English father-son duo known as The Story. Wasn't terribly much of a surprise, really, since the elder half of The Story, Martin Welham, was an integral member of Forest, an amazing (and undeservedly obscure) band from back in the original late sixties/early seventies magical era of British acid folk music, contemporaries of Fairport and Pentangle and the Incredible String Band and Dando Shaft and Comus. The reissues of their two albums have been huge favorite here at Aquarius. But now it's almost forty years later, and we suppose that Martin making music with his son Tom could have been a let-down. But it wasn't, not a bit, no sirree. Martin still had "it". And apparently a musical talent for pastoral prettiness runs in the family too.
And this second album from The Story is also quite something. Again what wows us is just the lovely blend of their gentle voices and sprightly guitar strum, singing songs full of melancholic atmospheres and melodic enchantment... As an acoustic duo, the focus here is on the song writing, the melodies and pagan-tinged lyrics, not psychedelic effects or rock bombast, and the Welhams do wonders with just their guitars and voices, plus some sundry hand-percussion, flutes, and (literal) bells and whistles too. Like Tale Spin, this album is utterly sweet and mellow and hum-able...in terms of mood, it has its dark corners but even then the Martin and Tom's harmony vocals bring warmth and light to the journey, which seems to be along forest paths and over country streams, across both misty moors and sunny meadows. The songs (sixteen of 'em) are ALL quite nice, none of them overly lengthy, mostly just a minute or three apiece, making maximum melodic impact before The Story moves itself along to the next song. Timeless stuff -- we could almost imagine a Welham grandchild eventually joining up and The Story continuing and bridging yet another generation...
PS They also have a track on the excellent new Brit-folk compilation John Barleycorn Reborn, which we'll be reviewing on our next list...
Ooooh. The Story is a good one. Imagine if Elliott Smith was fey and British and made hippie music (that's what Pam calls this, and it's a pretty good description). The Story is the handiwork of the father-son duo of Martin and Tom Welham, Tale Spin being the full-length follow up to their side of the split LP they did last year with Santa Cruz psychfolk outfit Whysp. We know Whysp were excited to appear on the same piece of vinyl as these guys, since Welham the elder (Martin) was once an important member of legendary UK psychfolk band Forest, whose two all-too-obscure albums from the early '70s are both firm favorites among us here at Aquarius as well! We LOVE that band. And are very happy to report that Martin and his son Tom have kept the tradition alive and well. The Story's music is full of the same leafy forest glade melody and melancholy that made Martin's old band so amazing. Being a duo, this is more acoustic and less rock than Forest sometimes got, but is otherwise definitely reminiscent in terms of songwriting quality and style. For those of you who haven't heard Forest, we could offer comparisons as well to the Olivia Tremor Control, Yes, and the Hollies... sort of... think of those bands at their most gentle and acoustic and twee. A magical combination of sweet strum, mellow vocal harmonies, and poetic lyrics (one of our favorite lines, from "Winterborn" -- "It takes a lifetime, but in the end / You come to know what the fates intend"). Total hum along music. Recommended!!
Some fairly heavy (maaaan) stoner psych blues rawk action here from 1971. Yep, seventy-one. We won't try to tell you that the lone album from Japan's Strawberry Path was one of the best rock releases of '71, 'cause of course there were so many great albums out that year. But if you're a fan of heavy rock of the era, especially the weirder stuff from overseas, you should check 'em out. There's plenty of wailing guitar and jammin' organ on here, but also some mellow moves too so it's maybe more '60s than '70s sounding, and VERY Jimi Hendrix influenced. And we'd guess they were also into such Western acts as Steppenwolf, early Deep Purple, Grand Funk and possibly Black Sabbath. In the realm of early '70s Japanese hard psych they're on par with Speed, Glue & Shinki and Foodbrain, but not quite as as solid as the best Flower Travellin' Band or Blues Creation. These guys (a duo of Shigeru "Jimmy" Narumo on guitars and keys, and Hiro Tsunoda on drums and vocals, helped out by various guests) went on to form the even heavier Flied Egg, who released an LP on Vertigo, a track from which is heard on Andy Votel's Vertigo Mixed disc in fact.
This is totally in that Vertigo vein, with classical flourishes of flute and strings, hard-rockin' boogie blues riffage, wild vocals, kickin' drum breaks, acoustic interludes... it's an acid-prog mix that isn't always in the proto-metal direction we might want but we'll take what we can get. Plus you've gotta love the song titles, which are either really cool and weird like "Maximum Speed Of Muji Bird (45 Seconds Of Schizophrenic Sabbath)" or totally indicative of what you'd expect like "I Gotta See My Gypsy Woman" and "Mary Jane On My Mind". Woah, yeah.
It's another, like-no-other, claustrophobically constricted creepy-crawl through the mists that seemingly, steamingly enshroud the Tasmanian rainforest lair of that far off island's major (only?) one man black metal export, Striborg. Mists that buzz with fuzz, like a metallic miasma, a sonic cloud of fog-smog composed of atomized Burzumic bits. Damaged, droning distorted fuzz. If Fuck Buttons or Growing listen to black metal, we bet they'd like Striborg! And as far as we're concerned, a new Striborg disc is always cause for grim celebration... this one, following both Ghostwoodlands and Solitude from 2007, is fresh for spring 2008 (remember, that's fall below the equator, hence Striborg's current Autumnal Melancholy).
As is Striborg's wont, this album consists of either epic-length (several close to 15 minutes each) black metal numbers, or somewhat shorter, more "experimental" isolationist electronic interludes. On those pieces, such as the "The Scrying Mirror", the quietly lovely "In Oppressive Silence", and "The Manifestation Of Black Residual Energy", Striborg could be mistaken for some particularly scary 20th century classical composer or ambient soundtrack artist. But even when he unleashes the full black metal attack, with drum machinery and anguished rasps, it's still pretty darn "experimental"!
With plodding tempi and enervated emotion, the likes of "As A Hermit Hiding In The Trance Of Night" and the title track trudge forth like a sleepwalking zombies, with each step forward, sinking slowly into the quicksand-like foundation of the ever-present fuzz, which really comes to an unholy, catastrophic climax with the Merzbovian noise blow-out of album-ender "Transfiguration Of Terror", a two-minute track following the one here with perhaps the album's most metal-est riffing, "Meandering In Sorrow", a well-named 14:35 indeed. As with all Striborg releases, recommended!!
Lovers of damaged demented bizarre baffling freaked out and fucked up black metal rejoice!! We couldn't be more excited if there was a brand new Benighted Leams record. FINALLY, we're able to review and list a record from one of our all time favorite outsider one man black metal bands, Striborg. Most folks have probably never actually heard Striborg, even though this will mark release #15 or thereabouts. But it wasn't for lack of trying on our part. We have been completely obsessed with Striborg since we first heard him a few years back and have been trying to get enough copies of ANY of his releases to list. Everytime we found someone who carried Striborg records, we would order 30 or 40 or 50, and would get 1 or 2. Or more likely none. We even resorted to writing letters to the band (he apparently lives in a shack in the woods with no phone and no computer!) And while most folks have never -heard- Striborg, you've probably at least heard OF him. Whether it was in an aQuarius review, we've referenced Striborg as the ultimate outsider black metal band in reviews of records by black metal weirdos Dead Reptile Shrine, Lugubrum, Draugar, Detsorgsekalf, Hidden and more, or on the recent black metallized SUNNO))) record Black One, which even had a track named for the dark mastermind behind Striborg Sin-Nanna.
But what is it exactly about Striborg that has everyone freaking out?
Five words for you: Tasmanian rain forest black metal! And it's just as grim and weird and as amazing as that might lead you to believe. We have Southern Lord to thank for this, the first readily available Striborg release, which continues his tradition of combining multiple releases on single cds, this one includes the brand new 2006 recording. Embittered Darkness, as well as the super rare Isle De Morts release recorded almost a decade ago, way back in 1997.
So what exactly does Tasmanian rain forest black metal sound like? Definitely grim, and lo-fi, ultra personal, demented and damaged, Benighted Leams, Abruptum, Dead Reptile Shrine, Necrofrost, Emit, Furze, Urfaust and all the rest of the baffling black metal hierarchy should give you a rough idea, but Striborg, is even further out, way more fucked up, more strangely psychedelic and freaked out, a doomy drone drenched black buzz, a growling fuzzy missive from the depths of some dark netherworld.
Haunting washes of gauzy synthesizer, mournful minor key acoustic guitars, dreary overcast swaths of depressive melancholia, and you think other black metal bands are buzzy?! Striborg take that black buzz and whip it into a furious freaked out frenzy, a guitar buzz like a million bumble bees, but sped WAY up, a prickly, fuzzy swirl, even at it's most doomy and plodding, Striborg drenches everything in that overblown buzz, a thick sandpapery ambience, that is the metal equivalent of walking through the pouring rain, under a full moon, through a graveyard at the edge of the world. Sin-Nanna growls and gurgles his obtuse black ravings in an impossibly creepy animalistic voice, somewhere between a rabid dog, a tiny demon, and a wicked old witch, often everything will drop out and all that will be left is a buzzing tangle of hissing harsh vocal and fuzzed out black riffing. Buried in the murk and mire are weird, rehearsal space drums, really flat and dry sounding, erupting in spastic and chaotic burts, not just blast beats, but instead bizarre blasts of percussive tangle amidst stretches of almost punk rock drumming, although most of Embittered Darkness is spent at a crawl, a buzzing midtempo dirge, as doomy as it is black, if not more so. Imagine an ultra lo-fi doom metal Xasthur, slow motion misery dotted with occasional barrages of black metal buzz and once in a while surges of slithering black ambience.
So totally creepy and beautiful, fucked up and gorgeous, a massive soul crushing slab of doom drenched black metal brilliance.
Isle De Morts, from 1997, is a lot more traditional, and a lot faster, almost every track a frenetic and frenzied burst of blackened and buzzing brutality, lo-fi but completely blown out and in the red, channeling Transylvanian Hunger era Darkthrone, but filtered through Striborg's cracked sonic kaleidoscope, rendering what might have been just some classic Norwegian BM worship, as a creepy and cracked world of ultrabuzz and overblown acidfried blackness, blast beats so fast they sound like radio static, guitars so buzzy and blurry they turn into thick washes of crumbling prickly sound, and croaking toadlike vocals so high in the mix it sounds like the band is in a different room. So gloriously fucked up and freaked out. One listen is all it takes to see why Striborg towers above all his bizarre black metal contemporaries, ruling the doomed and damaged kingdom of ultrapersonal black metal dementia with an iron fist, a busted 4-track and a growing legion of buzz hungry minions!
Deep in the damp backwoods of Tasmania (yes, Tasmania!), one of our very favorite one-man black metal bands lurks. Sin-nanna is that man, Striborg is that band. The eagerly awaited Ghostwoodlands is the latest manifestation of Striborg's musical misanthropy, another extreme and extremely "outsider" statement of black metal idiosyncrasy and fucked up brilliance.
Starting with track one, "Bete Noirs", every other track on Ghostwoodlands is an ambient episode of beautifully droning, isolationist electronics, psychedelic blackness that's not overtly metal at all (and could give some additional weight to the ridiculous rumor we once heard that Sin-nanna is actually Australian dronologist Oren Ambarchi). The longer, even-numbered songs, though, are indeed recognizable as a species of black metal, wherein Sin-nanna's guitar (and voice, and keyboards, and much else) still sounds like some noxious gas escaping under pressure. This aerosol mist of grim musik is, as always, accompanied by his own primitive "timekeeping", percussive thump and clatter full of many confusional fills, blasts and beats. This drumming is seemingly (and sometimes startlingly) one of Sin-nanna's primary expressive outlets, having more active physicality than the spectral presences of his other instrumentation -- and its artistic effectiveness proves that desire trumps ability in his realm. With woozy alien synths wandering over from the "ambient" tracks, Striborg's steam clouds of croak-encrusted, broken-down black metal require hails all around. Indeed, the next time someone asks, "what's so great? -- and what's so fucked up?" about Striborg, track two here is one we'll immediately want to play 'em. The slowly paced, 19 and a half minute "Wandering The Wilderness Of Eternal Misery" is a monument to Sin-nanna's unique genius, as we're sure you'll agree after just a few minutes into it, when you're fully enveloped in his hissing, buzzing, chuddering world, and the ambient Aphex synth droplets start falling amidst his percussive extemporaneity. So good! Like a brain-damaged Burzum, and we mean that in the best possible way. And these abnormal atmospheres continue throughout the rest of the disc, furthering our love of Striborg. A great followup to the taster offered by the Striborg / Xasthur split single we listed just last week!
PS. God what we wouldn't give for a Striborg / Keiji Haino collaboration!!!
The return of our favorite one man Tasmanian rain forest black metal horde, the mighty Striborg, whose damaged outsider lo-fi black buzz has held us in its thrall since the very first time we heard it years ago. Even though this is only the second Striborg release we've managed to get enough of to review and list, there have actually probably been more like a dozen full lengths from Striborg so far...
And lord knows we've tried to track down enough copies of those old releases to list, but as they are all self released on Striborg mainman Sin Nanna's own label, they've been mighty tough to get a hold of. Thankfully, he's taken to tacking on old out of print records at the tail end of new records. So here we've got the brand new full length Nefaria, coupled with his '95 demo A Tragic Journey Towards The Light. And the amazing thing is that even after all that time, and all those releases, the sound is just as lo-fi, fucked up and damaged as ever. The atmosphere is creepy and gloomy, the vocals a strangled croak swathed in reverb, the drums a stumbling thrashing mess, a dank black buzz that writhes and squirms, filthy and mysterious and so fucking awesome. There are some haunting ambient tracks too, whirring warbly synths drifting wraith like, sometimes with a lurching subtle beat buried way down in the mix, but for the most part, it's all damaged buzzing blackness, wrapped around bizarre arrangements and loads of lo-fi hiss and whir. Amidst the weirdness there are some breathtaking moments, moody and emotional and strangely haunting, like the first half of closer "Black Apparitional Void" a slowcore midtemo Burzumy buzz replete with distant keyboard melody and gorgeous minor key melodies, as lovely and sorrowful as it is buzzy and black, with bizarre muddy swells that briefly swallow up the entire song before quickly receding back into the murk, before the song lurches into a dizzying squall of buzzing guitars, processed vocals, and bizarrely recorded drums, the rest of the track going from lo-fi to even more lo-fi and back again.
But then we're only scratching the surface as far as lo-fi is concerned, cuz up next is Striborg's very first recording, A Tragic Journey Towards The Light, which is so lo-fi and so liberally sprinkled with effects, that at times it stops being black metal and becomes some weird swirling morass of black sound. The drum machine is doused in reverb, doubling and blurring, almost like some hyperspeed dub, during the super dynamic start and stop parts, the vocals and the drums are so caked in FX, that they sound like some sort of children's TV show special effects sounds, and the vocals, a garbled tongue twisting whatthefuck stream of growls and guttural yelps, the guitar a squiggly distorted streak over the churning blur beneath, so completely over the top and confusing to listen to, but so completely and impossibly catchy. This is the Striborg that ensorcelled us back in the day, and it sounds just as amazingly fucked as ever!
If black metal has a "Jandek" then Striborg might be it. Certainly, an argument can be made that black metal itself is already "outsider art" and then if that's the case, where to put Striborg? Outside the outside. So much of Striborg's eccentrically intimate, idiosyncratic output (this disc holding many fine examples, for instance at one point when it sounds like he's playing the violin in the shower) is so exquisitely wrong it's right, so inadvertently avant-garde and very much trance-inducing that of course Striborg is a big AQ fave. Until recently, though, it was easier for us to get Jandek cds than those of Striborg. But at long last the gates to Striborg's lair have swung open, and the many previously hard-to-find recordings by this Tasmanian black metal savant (as you may know, Striborg is a "band" staffed solely by the mysterious Sin-Nanna) are now readily available to us... and to you, the discriminating consumer of fucked-up black metal. Among the many Striborg discs that we for so long wanted but were unable to stock, is this one. Another essential in Striborg's damaged discography for sure. This cd combines two demos from 2002 and 2003, so it's material from pretty early on in Sin-Nanna's career of evil, though his demo-days go back as far as 1997, and these are in fact the final two (4th and 5th) demos released before he started making "proper albums" instead, although production-wise we can detect no great differences! This cd compilation of those two demos was originally released in 2003 by Striborg's own Finsternis Productions in a limited edition of 500 copies, and has now been resurrected by Displeased (along with, as we said, several other desirable Striborg artifacts).
Nocturnal Emissions consists of the title track, followed by "Despondent Cries", "Son Of The Moon", and "The Freezing Northland". The latter is interesting 'cause you'd think in Striborg's case it would be "The Freezing Southland", being so nearby to Antarctica, but it turns out that this track is a tribute to another one-man black metal cult, Norway's Ildjarn. We should also note that "The Son Of The Moon" is dedicated to Sin Nanna's baby boy, Zachariah aka Sin-Nanna junior (the name Sin-Nanna that of the god of the crescent moon in ancient Sumer, btw). This might be the first and only black metal song written by a proud father to his newborn son! In welcoming his child to "this world of tragedy, magic and sorrow", he tells him, "the stars of Aquarius is [sic] on your side".
Otherwise, Striborg's lyrical themes are entirely depressive and misanthropic, all mope-tropes matched of course by his music, the ever-present droning black buzz, a fuzzed-out spray of monochrome guitar distortion, through thick fields of which wander Striborg's special, utterly non-metroymic drum-stumble and over which he rasps his despondent cries.
The four tracks of Nyctophobia are next, "Under Black Rain", "Through The Dark Fog", "Across Thornfields", and "Into Night Moor". We'll single out "Under Black Rain" for mention, as it's composed entirely of what sounds like woozy violin improv, his jittering string-scrape punctuated by a resonating gong-blows, mixed with field recordings of drizzling rain and ominous thunderclaps... we'd be happy with just a whole disc of just that! But each track here has its unique charms, "Through Dark Fog" in particular notable for Sin-Nanna's excessively distorted vocal turn. And "Into Night Moor" is a beautiful outro of isolationist electronic ambience. It seems everything he touches turns, not to gold, but to blackened weirdness. Weird enough we assure you that you'll be giving your stereo strange looks and often rewinding to hear some choice bit of bizarreness again and again, if you share our taste in outsider black metal oddity! None more sublime than Striborg.
We'll have reviews of a couple more Striborg reissues soon (Trepidation and Spiritual Catharsis) and also look forward to a new release, the Journey Of A Misanthrope DVD...
Black metal bands come in many varieties, and we have our favorites among everything from blackened thrash drunkards to grandiose symphonic keyboard-laden festival headliners to grim trance-y one-man-band eccentrics... particularly the latter, though, especially when we're trying to find black metal to recommend to AQ customers who aren't necessarily metalheads but who like weird weird music whatever the genre. Droning fucked up stuff that's almost more experimental than it is metal. And this (one-man) band Striborg is precisely what we like to have on hand when the subject of, "if I were to buy just one weird black metal record, what should it be?" comes up.
For the longest time, it was next to impossible to find cds by this still-obscure artist from far-off Tasmania (that's right, Tasmania!). Fortunately others besides us have recognized his peculiar genius and now the releases are (somewhat) more readily available. Which brings us to this brand new album, Solitude, and it to us, hot on the heels of Striborg's other recent full-length release, Ghostwoodlands. As with that album, here Striborg has uncapped his usual aerosol spray of buzzing guitars and wretched effected vokills. The fuzzed out, bleak black metal clatter is interspersed with long stretches of what approaches D.I.Y. 20th Century Classical electronic music spookiness! The ambient, isolationist tracks that cropped up on Ghostwoodlands are again to the fore, as is an even more droney, doomy, droomy mood. There are several exclusively "black metal" tracks (two of 'em quarter hour epics!), some of them powered by blazing drum machine beats, but even so the overall vibe of Solitude is so slooooow and doooooomy.
Drum machine? Don't worry, it sounds good, and at times, we think he really IS playing the drums. Striborg's less-than-tight timekeeping and fucked up fills have always been paradoxical highlights of his albums in our perverse estimation, but Solitude finds many ways to provide those idiosyncratic so-wrong-its-right pleasures. Tracks like "Ektoplasmic Dreams", "Doppelganger" and "The Untouched Land" are purely electronic-sounding, ominous abstract dronescapes, piercing with high-end synth-shards and soothing with somnolent textures. Elsewhere, his blurred guitars do the same, reminding us of dreamy gloom dronesters Angelic Process, a hushed guitar tone... not even a tone, more like a pure wave, a solid mass.
We mentioned that Striborg hails from pretty far south -- Tasmania. The rainforests of his island are not that distant from the icy wastes of Antarctica. But this album, Solitude, is the sound of Striborg's one-man, one-way journey even further south, falling right off the edge of this world...
Once again, we head back into the grim black rainforests of Tasmania, to unearth more of one-man-black-metal-misanthrope Striborg's amazing back catalog, a constantly evolving and devolving soundworld of washed out buzz, chaotic black blur, and haunting dreamlike ambience. If you're already a fan, and have made it this far in Displeased's reissue campaign, odds are you're probably gonna want this one too, and if you've yet to experience the gloriously grim what-the-fuck brilliance of Striborg, then this is as good a place to start as any, in fact it might be one of the best ones to begin with as it's the most varied, and thus the most freaked out and bizarre.
Beginning with a surprisingly melodic almost poppy guitar part, 2004's Spiritual Catharsis quickly unravels into the buzzing stumbling confusional blackness that's so near and dear to our withered hearts. The core of Striborg's sound, is the ever present sheet of white noise guitars, that still sounds like a microphone placed on the floor of a shower, a constant and nearly overwhelming shhhhhooooosshhh. While behind this wash of hissy sibilance, lurk creaking shrieked vocals, and simple stumbling drums, and of course thick epic washes of grandiose keyboard. The drums flipping between punk rock pound and doomic plod, while that wall of blown out buzz remains fairly static. Totally hypnotic. At it's most straight ahead, it sounds like a way more blissy Burzum, loping and midtempo, with those haunting keyboards offering up creepy minor key melodies, but where Burzum buries those keys in the mix, Striborg shoves them right to the front, where they warble and whir and threaten to swallow up the rest of the sounds around it.
But as we mentioned before, Spiritual Catharsis is all over the map. "Glorification Of Mother Nature" is a gorgeously minimal expanse of ambient creep, sci fi synths swirling and shimmering, soft focus layers of sound shifting subtly like fog in an old crumbling graveyard, but then there's the title track, thirteen minutes long, probably the harshest and most chaotic of the bunch, the guitars whipped into a nearly Merzbowian frenzy, the effects so dense it's almost like black metal dub, the vocals careening and rippling out in all directions, the drums like a landslide of snares, the whole thing enveloped in a rippling cloak of black ambience, until part way through when the track shifts into some cinematic doom, the hiss and buzz pushed back a bit, allowing low end rumbles and whirs to play out a super intense melody, while the drums lurch and stutter, other keyboards joining the fray, drifting like soft glowing orbs against the jagged buzzy backdrop, before finally building back up into the fierce fury of the track's opening. The rest of the record constantly shifts between buzz and bliss, blast and crawl, from the minimal rumbling drone of "The Haunted Gum Trees", to the relentlessly blasting black chaos of "Misanthropic Necroforest", to the echo drenched plodding doom of "Dicksonia Antarctica" (replete with more of those dubbed out FX), to the tripped out funereal dreaminess of "Eternal Blackness Surrounds The Bushland", to the full on pounding in-the-red crush of "Black Metal Is The Forest Calling...", Spiritual Catharsis, is indeed just that, a spiritually cathartic, beautifully bizarre, darkly droning musical journey through a black forest of sound, and into the even blacker musical mind of Striborg
Re-mastered, with all new artwork, including a swank metallic silver front cover, and drawings and lyrics inside.
For once being a grim cult mystery, whose records were practically impossible to find, Striborg has turned into an actual 'band', releasing a record every year, sometimes more than one, guesting on other folks' records, touring with SUNNO))).... you think the glare of the spotlight would have gone to his head, but thankfully, the music of Striborg, aka Sin-Nanna, is as bleak and twisted and fucked up as ever. So fucked up in fact that we are well aware that Striborg is not every metalhead's cup of tea, a quick look at the reviews on the Encyclopedia Metallum website reveals that a whole lot of people don't dig it, or more accurately probably, don't get it.
But as far as we're concerned, what's not to get?! Striborg create truly evocative, lo-fi black metal, that is as idiosyncratic as it is true and grim. The production has remained the same for over a decade, if anything it's gotten progressively more low fidelity and damaged sounding, the music instead of getting tighter and more polished has wandered further and further from traditional black metal tropes, which is precisely why we love it so much. For those new to Striborg, there are 15 or so other reviews on the aQ site that go into great depth, but in brief, Striborg is Sin-Nanna, who lives in the middle of a rainforest in Tasmania, and who crafts some of the most damaged and demented and freaky black metal we've ever heard. Bands like Furze, or Necrofrost, sound like Metallica next to the madness that is Striborg. Okay, that may be a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much, and this latest, newest Striborg might even, as impossible as it might seem, manage to outweird the preceding 15 or so releases.
Some things have remained the same, the artwork is appropriately abstract, nothing but pictures and drawings of forests, pictures and drawings of Sin-Nanna himself (including a random glamour shot on the back cover where he sort of looks like a high school goth or New Romantic!), pictures of caves, rivers, the sky and the moon, and not a whole lot else, minimal liner notes, but it's the music�
Sin-Nanna implements a new arrangement this time, still leaning toward the loooong songs, but this time they are preceded by or separated by intros and intervals, most a minute or less, haunting keyboard ambience, bird calls and the sounds of the night forest, a strange sample from some film, laughing voices, male and female, melancholy marimba melodies, Bernard Hermann style strings, a child and a woman intoning some sort of incantation, reverb soaked piano, whirring shimmering cinematic drones, mournful horns, tinkling chimes, but as creepy and abstract as those are, they don't even hold a candle to the songs.
And the first proper song on The Foreboding Silence, "A Lonely Walk In A Desolate Cold Pine Forest", really might be the best (and most fucked) Striborg song EVER. Eleven minutes long, the track begins with an impossibly buzzy riff, that literally sounds like a swarm of insects, or a million kazoos, unfurling a chromatic wall of nearly static buzz, that shifts from note to note, creating a lurching jagged melody, over which totally dizzying atonal marimbas pulse and loop, sending the whole thing into a woozy sea sick spiral, the various melodies, far from complimentary, the whole thing sounding like it's gradually growing more dissonant, more out of tune, the drums stumbling in the background, the vocal a harsh shriek, it's so off kilter that with headphones on it will make your head spin. Eventually, the marimbas drop out, leaving the track to plod along doomily, the buzzing riff like the sound of a rainstorm on a tin roof, the song shifts tempos, slipping from plod to pound and back again, eventually locking into a repetitive outro, the drums simple, the guitars locked into a two note loop, punctuated by what sounds like thunder off in the distance, which gives the effect even more of the buzzing guitars becoming the sound of rainfall.
The title track is another tweaked masterpiece, the drums locked into an almost-groove, the guitar still in full insectoid buzz mode, underpinning the spewed demonic vox, and a strange gnarled almost Greg Ginn-ish guitar overdub. The drums are LOUD, way up in the mix, shifting from stumbling blast to relentless double kick, while the guitar buzz swirls and sways and slips back and forth right along with it. The biggest surprise here, besides the opener, is the closer, "Somnambulistic Nightmares Return", a lurching chunk of slow motion doom, with some serious guitar chug, and some simple drum pound, while beneath some sort of super intense reverberating low end drone surfaces and envelops the song, while over the top, some woozy clean guitar drifts in, offering up a mournful, mildly atonal counterpoint, resulting in one of the weirdest and strangely pretty Striborg songs yet.
What else needs to be said? If you have all of the other Striborg records, odds are you're a bit obsessed like us and probably need this one too, if you've yet to take the plunge, The Foreboding Silence is definitely a great place to start, and if you get hooked, or are feeling particularly daring, we have a bunch of other Striborg releases in stock, all twisted genius, all fucked and grim and fantastic, just ask...
We figured that before the brand new record Autumnal Melancholy drops from Tasmanian black metal misanthrope Striborg (just showed up today, reviewed on the next list!), we oughta finally list the last of the reissues. So here it is, Trepidation, another damaged and deliriously freaked out, fucked up and grim grim grim slab of rain forest black metal as only Striborg can do it.
Like all of the other Striborg records, this is absolutely essential for fans of outsider black metal, and actually anyone into super challenging, confusing, weird-as-fuck sounds needs to dig into some Striborg. It rarely gets more outsider than this.
Striborg is Sin Nanna, who lives in Tasmania, supposedly sans phone or internet, communing with nature, offering up his blackened soul to the spirit of the forest. In the form of impossible buzz drenched blasts of black metal. And we talk about BUZZ all the time, but Striborg takes it to a whole other level. The guitars and riffs rendered almost dronelike, suspended in a wall of shifting crumbling fuzz, in fact wall might be off the mark, the sound isn't so much a wall, nothing so massive and foreboding, instead it's like some sort of flowing black river, churning and choppy, but blurred into something almost static. The drums sound inhuman, and probably are, a monotonous relentless beat pounding away but again, pounding connotes heaviness, and the sound here isn't really heavy, it's atmospheric more than anything. Super lo-fi, a wash of keyboards draped over the blurry buzz, the vocals are the biggest disruption, howling and shrieking, a wicked maniacal cackle, but just as often they vocals fade away leaving just that droning buzz to almost lull you into a trance.
Primitive, and raw, stumbling and chaotic, a dizzyingly confusional strain of metal cloaked in blackness and doused in drone, the guitar tone like a vacuum cleaner, the drums like cardboard boxes and trashcan lids, the arrangements convoluted and complex when they're not locked into a seemingly never ending loop. Fucked up for sure, brilliant? Without a doubt.
There are plenty of other Striborg reviews on the aQuarius site, if you want to read more about the man, the band, the sound. Needless to say, the metalheads around here consider Striborg one of our all time favorites, possibly the most freaked out and fucked up, damaged, and completely and utterly baffling of the bunch. And Trepidation definitely ranks up there with Striborg's best. Fans obviously need it if they don't already have it, and if you're new to this black metal weirdness, and were looking for a good place to start, to bravely enter the dark damaged world of Striborg, Trepidation, even heeding the title, might just be the one...
Deluxe reissue (originally released in 2005), with all new artwork, tons of photos of snow and forests and trees, all printed in black and metallic silver.
