Album Review: Moby - Last Night

Finally released to a UK audience (Australia got first dibs back in late March) album number nine sees Moby returning to the upbeat groove he plundered so successfully on 1999’s ‘Play’ album. This one takes the theme of an all-night party in New York and allows us to join the conga line as he and his various guest MC’s pummel you with delightful disco beats and effervescent keyboard trills.

There’s no pause for breath, no subtle intro; you are going to be up dancing on the first beat as the repeating theme, the sweet soul singing and the steady funk beat of opener ‘Ooh Yeah’ hits. There’s a dark change in the middle which allows for, ah yes, there it is, the return of the dance theme. This is so formulaic, so precise, but oh-so-wonderful. Ah, Moby, with this delightful electro hedonism you are really spoiling us! It’s followed by the pulsing soft-sway of ‘I Love To Move in Here’ with snatches of crowd-cheer and topped off with the rap-back of MC Grandmaster Caz, co-writer of the classic ‘Rapper‘s Delight‘.

Much of the album is rooted in club nights past and should therefore appeal across the board. ‘Everyday It’s 1989’ is my cringe track as it takes me straight back to those uncomfortable teenage moments of the day. Raving like the screech of Black Box, it’s swimming in memories, smarting with sunshine, but repeated plays reveal a sickly sweetness that’s just a little too strong. For others it’ll be something else, no doubt. The hip-hop of 419 Squad’s guest vocals on ‘Alice’ is all lurking bass, grime and guts and is the pimp to the glamour whores of ‘Hyenas’ and ‘I’m In Love’ with their smoky, sensual vocals. They shimmy but they lack the razzmatazz that Moby usually nails on so effectively and will help most fall into their chill-out chairs a little too early.

‘Disco Lies’ will have you up again strutting your stuff, as our favourite forty-something self-confessed simpleton properly gets his groove back. ‘The Stars’ will keep you on your feet, a euphoric anthem of nostalgia with pistoning bass drum and hi-hat work, a mashed piano and just a pinch of latin thrown in for good measure. Then it all gets too much and we are forced to crash out again as ‘Degenerates’ drags the whole thing into a melancholic warping wash of industrial noise. If you want chill-out “choons” to properly enlighten then hook yourself into the shifting sands of ‘Sweet Apocalypse’ or the sultry jazz vocal of Kudu’s Sylvie on ‘Last Night’.

Despite the glorious highs this album won’t be quite the classic everyone was hoping for. It doesn’t define its respective genres but allows us a retrospective glance back and a wry smile. Perhaps a better way to put it is this; joining Moby on his clubbing tour of NYC has been fun, but it hasn’t changed my life or made me crave a repeat visit.

Album Review: Seether - Finding Beauty In Negative Spaces

This very week I may have suggested that bands from South Africa don‘t often reach these shores - in fact I said, and I quote, ”It’s not often you hear of bands from South Africa causing such a stir overseas.” As I write, I have in front of me a rather natty looking trilby and I’m tucking into it after every sentence. The reason? Seether are a South African hard-hitting rock trio that have been… er, how shall I put this… causing a stir overseas. They’ve notched up a jaw-dropping two million album sales so far.

After parting company with lead guitarist Pat Callaghan and vocalist Shaun Morgan going into rehab for cocaine and alcohol addictions the band have thrown themselves into the new album with Morgan admitting, “Because it was just three of us there were fewer minds to stymie the or halt the whole process. I wanted to write songs that were more melodic this time around. I didn’t feel the need to scream as I might have in the past and I felt I could have used sitars if I wanted.”

With ‘Finding Beauty In Negative Spaces’ completed it becomes their sixth studio album (if you include the one they recorded under their original name, Saron Gas) and has finally reached the UK after amassing 400,000 sales following it’s October 2007 release in the States. I imagine this has a lot to do with the extraordinary vocal of Shaun Morgan which flits between the croak and croon of Nickelback’s Chad Kroeger and the biting snarled delivery of Machine Head’s Robb Flynn. However the intricate roll and batter drum patterns of John Humphrey and Dale Stewart’s walking bass are just as bright in the mix - and with so little instrumental clutter you’d expect them to.

The fuzzed vocal opening and guitar of opener ‘Like Suicide’ is pure Nickelback, soaring into double-vocal bridge and chorus before bursting out into a red-raw scream of such intensity that lifts it to a whole new level. Its pure single material, catchy as fuck, warped enough even to dip it’s toes in nu-metal theatrics. Utterly monumentally and way beyond anything the first few bars promised. ‘Fake It’ kicks like a mule but ultimately fails to inspire trying out a few new wave effects over the rock groove that don‘t quite fit.

‘Breakdown’ and ‘Fmlyhm’ are awkward ballads and are evidence of the band’s more melodic approach. The grim out-of-place chorus of “fuck me like you hate me” on the latter proves that they haven‘t quite found a suitable home for the style. In fact it’s not until ‘No Jesus Christ’ that I find myself absorbed fully, ears popping as I gawp at the furious volley of bile spewing forth from my speakers. The didgeridoo and wobble-board opening are overlapped by Morgan’s “verbal defecation” and a screaming guitar but when we hit the chorus its grungy riffs decide that stripping skin from bone whilst the vocal slaps murky angst into our maws is best - and it is! The ever-changing nature of the song delights and troubles in equal measure. It’s a restless thing, lacking structure and eventually trickles to a listless conclusion.

This track sums up the album as a whole for me. There are moments where I truly believe it to be a possible album of the year only to find a ‘Breakdown’ or a ‘Waste’ hiding round the corner to drag it all towards a radio-friendly pile of mediocrity. Listen to ‘Rise Above This’, a song Morgan wrote about his brother before he died tragically last August. If you like that, you’ll find this new more melodic direction a revelation. The rest of us can glory when Seether stick to screaming and shake our heads disappointedly when they reach for the sitar.

Review Archive: A Life Once Lost - Iron Gag

Although this album isn't a new release, having come out in September last year, it will be a fantastic reminder on what to expect on A Life Once Lost's (ALOL) forthcoming support slot on Seattle-based Himsa's 'Summon in Thunder’ European Tour, which starts at the end of this month. The Philadelphian metalcore quintet will be on the road with other support acts Too Pure To Die and Ted Maul (UK only).

“Riffs and spliffs” is how vocalist Bob Meadows described the making of ‘Iron Gag’. He is not wrong. From the first track ‘Firewater Joyride’ it is an album of ascending, groove-laden, drop-d riffs, and heavy chugging breakdowns. It’s easy to imagine how thick the smoke was during the recording sessions. It’s a vicious and more personal album from previous efforts and you can hear all the band’s different influences throughout.

ALOL have said that they had a game plan for this album. After touring for 2 years on the back of ‘Hunter’, they wanted to get straight in the studio and create some kind of monster. If you listen to ‘Detest’ you will hear the result of that put straight onto the album. Known for their ferocious live shows, you can really hear the pummelling double-bass drums beat hard alongside crunchy guitars, squealed pinch harmonics and one hell of a sick solo. Other stand-out tracks such as ‘Worship’ and ‘The Wanderer’ have crowd pleasing shout-a-long choruses and on the penultimate track, ‘Silence’, guitarists Robert Carpenter and Snake Sustaine play stop-start riffs that have a whiff of metal-titans Meshuggah.

Fans of ALOL will notice a subtle change in Bob Meadows vocals from previous albums. Of course it is well known by now that Randy Blythe (Lamb of God) was essentially Meadows’ vocal coach on this album, and compared to the vocals ALOL on ‘Hunter’, Meadow's has been coached well. The guttural snarls that permeate each song are now coming from a deeper, darker place.

Iron Gag contains few respites from the continuing barrage of angular gargantuan riffs, grumbling overdriven bass, battering rhythm section, and rasping vocals. And that is how it should be.

Review Archive: 36 Crazyfists - The Tide And Its Takers

It’s been a long journey for 36 Crazyfists to reach this point in their careers. They’ve overcome the tragic loss of their bassist, have relocated from Alaska to Oregon and changed records labels twice. Through it all they’ve always remained faithful to their bass-heavy aggressively original sound and retained a determination to be heard by as many fans as is humanly possible by touring endlessly. ‘The Tide And Its Takers’ is the metal core outfit’s fifth full-length album and sees guitarist Steve Holt moving into the producer’s chair with Andy Sneap, continuing his mixing duties, by his side.

From the off the album bristles with an urgency that dominates. ’We Gave It Hell’, the forthcoming single, sears Brock Lindow’s scorched vocals onto a steady melodic bass groove. It has a sugar-sweet chorus lick that sits happily within the menace around it. The slow melodic beginnings of ‘The Back Harlow Road’ introduces a far more melodic way of thinking that throws the concrete breakdown slams into a whole new light.

Experimentation in a genre where the line between stunning and stricken can be so fine can be dangerous, but 36 Crazyfists are certainly closer to the former with the fine-tuning they‘ve done. At times they overdo the sweet talk as with the simpering ‘Waiting On A War’ finding itself painfully weak-sounding following the beefed-up low-end guts of ‘Clear The Coast’ (featuring Adam Jackson from Twelve Tribes). They score huge points in riposte with the pummelling intensity of ‘Absent Are The Saints’, a feast of gunshot drums and frazzled guitar riffs, and ’When Distance Is The Closest Reminder’ which rumbles along at a blistering pace when it‘s not dropping off into a smooth wash or a brick wall breakdown.

Sure, with the band trying out new vocal harmonies and supplementing them with melodic twiddling it will probably have their more hardcore fans grabbing their noses and holding it at arms-length. For those not wearing rose-tinted spectacles prepare to be battered remorselessly by an album that will kick you senseless, give you a big cuddle, then wade in again.

Album Review: King Pest - On The Town

King Pest, the Manchester quartet, invoke the soft-rock music of the 80s. Recent winners of XFM Uploaded and the radio station’s monthly panel vote, they appear to have pleased some important folks in the industry.

This EP is, however, by no means perfect. ‘Reasons’, for instance, is a two-chord traipse through a backdrop of jarring guitar and wilting vocal. The recording even comes complete with a catarrh-filled cough at the beginning. It is the seedy after-gig aging rock star/groupie romp - “she smiles as I slap her bum”. The hideous American lilt in the vocal is truly cringeworthy and nowhere is this more apparent than in ‘I Know’ - a grimly weak, tuneless wringing of the notes.

This band have spent a lot of time and effort recording this material and there is always a redeeming feature to be found. Okay, their press blurb is ridiculously over -the-top - they do not sound like ‘The Pixies playing the hits of The Beatles’, nor do they play ‘glorious, tub-thumping pop songs’. However, if they do go back to the studio and build on the promise of the pomp and drive of the EP’s title-track they’ll be heading in the right direction.