Album Review: Karg - Weltenasche

What Austrian J.J. (the artist formerly known as V. Wahntraum) does is a mouthful, but what the one-man Austrian band calls himself is not. He dabbles in ambient-oriented, post-atmospheric black metal but he simply calls his project KARG.

Weltenasche is his fifth full-length studio album and is the first to be completely performed in the dialect J.J. grew up with and which is spoken around the mountains of his hometown. Being gloomy and emotional, you’ll pick up subtle hints of Alcest and Lantlôs in here.

Take, “Crevasse”. It’s an 11-minute opener that lays bare his tonal calling card. Part-ambient, part-aggressive, the construction is detailed and invites introspection. It’s steady opening and resplendent chiming background is quickly obliterated by a viciously shrieked vocal that repeatedly drowns the softly-spoken underscore whilst the introduction of massively-distorted guitar scrawl kicks it fully into submission.

The rhythm bucks and shakes as the drum patterns shift constantly making it tough to grab a firm grip on proceedings. The juxtaposition of rough and smooth creates an antagonistic power play but the overall sense of drama is unerring. Melancholia envelops all – easy-listening this is not.

By the end of third track, “Le Couloir De Ombres”, we are already well over 30 minutes into this beast with the promise of at least another 45 minutes to go and already the abrupt key changes and panicky, affected nature of the song-writing is causing heart-palpitations. Grinding on as I must I find the shackles tightening and crave freedom. It becomes beyond oppressive, I start to writhe, burn, itch and fester. Not due to the extreme nature of the music, but the incessant, imposing structures that obliterate one another. It makes no sense.

It’s a tough one – these could all be special places to the right ear, but to mine the levels of perseverance required to fully engage the bronco requires me to strip my psyche to the bone. Each vast piece takes us careering into uncharted territory. Through NWOBHM, 80s kitsch, recordings of blazing rows and into incendiary spots of classical music.

Ultimately it is the dull, recycling chord structures that kill it. This is J.J.’s own all-consuming psychosis, not ours. It’s just too easy an album to walk away from. Without rules, there is only chaos and this is what miserably deliberate, self-absorbed chaos sounds like.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2017/01/karg-weltenasche-art-of-propaganda/

https://www.facebook.com/kargband
https://karg.bandcamp.com

Album Review: Nadja - The Stone Is Not Hit By The Sun, Nor Carved With A Knife

Coming just 5 months after their last album release, Sv, one does wonder quite how Nadja achieve such a level of productivity. I mean, what the hell? Do they live in a recording studio? Do they just live jam this stuff? Yes, it’s basically a 3-track drone-cum-noise album, but it still needs to show ingenuity and progression. Well, with this particular pair of inquiring minds and their safe hands, I’m confident they can still steer it to a satisfying conclusion. Can they?

Well, there’s definitely some progression here. More melody than before, some interesting warm tones and FX tweaks. But I’m getting ahead of myself. That mysterious album title – what gives? Well, it comes from a runic inscription on a Norwegian gravestone – the Eggja Stone – which actually provides some of the lyrical content on the record. And the tracks?

“The Stone” is loaded with elephantine potency. It twinkles like splintering glass falling upon its top layer, and sinks down to the alien, sub-aqueous thunder of metal under extreme pressure. After ten minutes, spasms of electric guitar kick in to set up the whirring, bass-heavy clank of some vast industrial machine. Blasts of steaming hiss squirt as if from pin-holes as ethereal voices whisper non-sequiturs and pistons drive the beast towards a semi-melodic, melancholic middle-section before returning to the melee.

“The Sun” is the lightest, most appealing prospect I’ve heard from Nadja for a good few years. With rich, ambient tones and emotive, spiralling stringwork, this plays like an ambient, post-rock track not too dissimilar to something from the back catalogues of Palms or OSI. There are vocals that whisper around the edge of your lobes, without ever taking root inside your ear canals. They are sung as if from behind some parallel dimension. There are waves, there is a beach and a sun and someone is talking close to your ear. It’s unsettling, and even more so when the whole image begins to dissolve into a dark malevolence of phantom-like white noise and subterranean crush. A wall of sound, sprawling, crawling and devouring all.

“A Knife” is far less ambitious than its compatriots. It’s a mixture of atmospheric, ambient drift, vibrant distortion and bristling fuzz and forms a 22-minute amorphous journey through a skyscape of sound.

Ultimately, each movement owns the space in which it exists, each differing in character, each stamping its authority upon the listener. Fans of drone and ambience will find these new worlds excitingly moreish. Is there enough to warrant repeat journeys? Considering its mammoth 79-minute runtime, maybe not for a while but, hell, we’re glad we visited.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/10/nadja-the-stone-is-not-hit-by-the-sun-gizeh-records/

Album Review: Ahamkara – The Embers Of The Stars

Perhaps their moniker is a reference to Hindu philosophy or, less likely, the dragon-like creature in the massively multiplayer first-person shooting videogame Destiny. One thing is for certain, Ahamkara sure know how to get under your skin.

They are Newcastle-Upon-Tyne duo, multi-instrumentalist Michael Blenkarn (The Axis of Perdition, Wodensthrone) and vocalist Steven Black and for their first trick, they have produced a debut album that combines the qualities of dark ambient, drone and second-wave black metal with varying degrees of success.

Within the four tracks, all stretching their way past the ten-minute mark, Ahamkara draw strength from the classic black triad of raw production, extended sections of pummelling double-kick and resonating shrieks to impose a sense of death, dread and the afterlife upon proceedings. What marks out their music though is the glowing underbelly of warm, atmospheric layers. They use soft progressions, ethereal synths and colour the piece with thick, resonant basslines.

Opener “Midwinter’s Hymn” casts you out on the open Arctic tundra with only the caterwauling of a wraith for company. Black’s vocal comes as if from the netherworld, distant and removed from the body of the instrumentation. Eventually, the howling winds calm and the track begins to stretch out into evocative passages of guitar and synth. With all four songs fused together by the elemental sounds of nature – running water, lapping waves and rushing wind – there is an elegant, organic theme running along the spine of the music.

 On the downside, there are some instances where the rosier tones bring about an odd clashing between the harsher edges and rich body. Nowhere is this more noticeable than within the strands of “On The Shores Of Defeat” where the harmony between the two begins to collapse. Happily, the visceral minor chords of “Lamentation Of A Wraith” return you to the dark side and drip-feed you a series of orchestral, even symphonic, affectations to build the concept of being within an immense space. At this point they drop their mesmeric trump card, “To Invoke The Stars Themselves”, and cut you loose to drift through the vasts of space; to meet your tormentor; to complete the journey and free your inner demons.

At its nadir The Embers Of Stars meets its inherent failings head on and at its zenith it becomes something far more conducive than the sum of its parts. Certainly, fans of Emperor, Arcturus, Anathema, Enslaved or Ulver should all be able to draw strength from the monumental aesthetics on display.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2015/01/ahamkara-the-embers-of-the-stars-nordvis-bindrune/

Album Review: My Brother The Wind – Once There Was A Time When Space And Time Were One

Ready to turn on, tune in and drop out? Good, because this week has seen the release of My Brother The Wind’s third album. Diving straight in, it seems we have the stoned vibe to end all stoned vibes.

By evoking the kind of gentile, mind-expanding experiences prompted by bands like Pink Floyd, Amon Düül and Hawkwind, this Swedish quartet (comprising Anekdoten’s Nicklas Barker, Makajodama’s Mathias Danielsson, The Greencoats’ Daniel Fridlund Brandt and Magnolia’s Ronny Eriksson) caused a bit of a stir when they played Roadburn Festival last year and it’s easy to see why.

This latest instrumental album of theirs was tracked in a single day and plays like its been ripped from one single jam. It’s based around a simple premise. First, there’s the set-up. The slow winding up of the background noise like an orchestra warming their instruments. Then comes the bass setting a jazzy pattern as the warping effects begin to grind down, and then finally the rhythmic snare brushing and rolling riff that drag the bass into line to set the pace. “Song Of Innocence”, split into to parts, is essentially a pastiche of tricks that twist and bend the drifting sound whilst the exploratory lead guitar runs through its repertoire of solos utilizing ear-to-ear phonics to mess with the noggin. Wrapped up in a cotton wool fuzz, everything is kept soft , bluesy and echoing gently.

“Into The Cosmic Halo” is the first track to break-out as the hedonistic psych backs off and the riff finally kicks in. By suppressing the drums behind the bass and lead, they have left the album feeling a little cut adrift from its moorings but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Stripping the layers back further MTBW bring in a strong ethnic vibe to produce “Misty Mountainside” and “Garden Of Delights”. Boasting acoustic guitar, bells and tabla drums, the former drags you out to the peace and tranquility of a Himalayan monastery, and then has you breathing in the aromas of a colourful Turkish bazaar. The title-track features yet more acoustic guitar and a sweet build that wobbles about, yet never quite goes anywhere. That is until the bass drive of “Epilogue” takes us floating out the back door on a relaxing tidal wash.

My Brother The Wind apparently don’t need a direction in which to head, a focal point or a sense of purpose. As a consequence their music isn’t necessarily essential listening. It doesn’t provide the sort of experience that demands to be heard in any way. You need to want to go on this journey to appreciate the simple, enigmatic beauty of it. Even the album title has been designed to trigger deep thoughts. This is indeed music that transcends time. It will be rendered redundant in the wrong hands but it will become gold dust in the right ones.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2014/10/my-brother-the-wind-once-there-was-a-time-free-electric-sound/

Album Review: Inventions – Inventions

Sleep’s Jerusalem, Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells, Jean Michel Jarre’s Oxygene and, to a lesser extent, Pink Floyd‘s Dark Side Of The Moon and Ozric Tentacles’ Jurassic Shift. These are all albums whose tracks remain emotionally welded together, no matter how many attempts are made to pull them asunder. Those who harbour a strong passion for long-players of this ilk will glory in the birth of Inventions whose debut demands instantaneous full exposure.

Having previously stuck rigidly to their own bodies of work, there was always the fear that neither Explosions In The Sky‘s Mark T. Smith or Matthew Cooper, the sole member of Eluvium, sending audio tapes across the heart of the U.S., would bring a cohesive series of fresh sounds to the table and, to some extent, their music does touch base with their past bands. However, there can be no doubt that as a united force they have also revelled in the freedom this new project has granted them. Consequently, they have created an instrumental album of the most beautiful, minimalist, ambient rock music that resonates at a completely different frequency from all that has gone before.

Yawning into life, the aptly-titled “Echo Tropism” tugs gently at your sleeve; its soft flow pulling you into a sculptured world where joyous emotion soaks into the flora and resounds along currents that circulate around your still form. Drifting through the tracks, breathy vocalisations begin to create harmonics that rise through the richly-layered subsonics. The spartan, often crunching, percussive elements keep the whole locked into a central spine so that as the synthetic patterns stretch, in the main, they remain integrated and vital to the whole.

Softly throbbing industrial machinations thread their way through tracks like “Entity” and “Psychic Automation”, the former pitching a subversively robotic burble into a series of pressure-releasing industrial pistons that curse as they snort and hiss their disapproval. The one track that wincingly tries to break rank is the coiled snake and bustling city soundscape of “Sun Locations / Sun Coda” which, curiously, assimilates elements of trance music. Happily, the ambient post-rock of “Peacable Child” reasserts the flow by slotting a pitter-patter arpeggio beneath a warping synth to create rotational drag. The remarkable effect is not unlike rhythmically cupping and uncupping your ears. For an extra-sensory experience try closing your eyes - I was alarmed to discover a tank of slowly pulsing, bioluminescent jellyfish staring back at me.

Constantly shifting, there is an astonishing organic flow to the album and to force unwieldy terms like electronica or shoegaze upon this collection would seem crass. It does touch base with the genres at several points during its life-cycle, yet the focus remains rooted to the emotional impact it has. Flooded with the same warm tones that emerged from ISIS / Deftones collaborative project Palms’ debut and imbued with similar instrumental pressure points to those of The Ocean’s Pelagial and Uneven Structure’s Februus, this pulsating album positively glows. Make time for this single-sitting long-player and you will be rewarded.

Also online @ The Line Of Best Fit = http://www.thelineofbestfit.com/reviews/albums/inventions-inventions-149597

Album Review: Purplehaze Ensemble – S/T

What’s in a name? Take PurpleHaze Ensemble’s moniker for instance. You’d imagine this Polish quartet to be a Jimi Hendrix covers band who, before each gig, spun a coin to see which band member would get to set fire to his guitar that night. Either that or to be a room full of potheads trading heavy-lidded musings on why Weetabix tastes “like sandpaper, ma-a-a-n”. Of course, they are actually a lot more interesting than the former and a hell of a lot more compos mentis than the latter.

Interestingly, they seem to sit at the centre of a musical crossroads, where the x-axis of grunge and stoner hits the y-axis of progressive metal and ambient rock. One minute they rage like Down, with vocalist Macias screeching like Phil Anselmo would after necking a bottle of bleach, the next they are conjuring up the head-down grunge of a Soundgarden or an Alice In Chains. Head deeper into the disc and you’ll discover that they are even capable of sucking up the progressive, experimental nectar from bands like Tool or Palms.

Starting out as just plain old PurpleHaze, a band focused on dispensing a solid dose of stoner rock, they recently switched drummers and employed synth player, Bemben, who was able to add a new dimension to their music by integrating an atmospheric layer of keys and samples underneath.

Interestingly by paying homage to the “old ways” of recording, they whipped this version up in one-take at at Red Shift Studio in Cracow. Only the vocals and synths were added afterwards – it has certainly made for an album with a vital energy and an almost edgy quality to it. On the downside, that mix has produced rough patches where the instruments don’t quite marry together. In particular, the harsh tones of the guitar leap out at the listener when the rest of the band is raging, but happily it comes back into its own when the power levels drop and the waves calm.

The dissonant fizz of the driving opener “Siren’s Song” is certainly a nasty wake-up slap with Macias at full roar and firing out crunch and sludge in equal measure. The oddly-rambling nature of “Haunt The Freak” instead finds an echoing, psychedelic series of Bombay Monkey-esque samples to lounge in before the dial is cack-handedly wound up and our first taste of their grunge leanings hove into view.

By “Could I” (a nod to Alice In Chains’ “Would I”, perhaps?) they’ve settled down into the session and the track’s natural structure gives us a true taste of their innate knack for songwriting. A gentle build with warping synth soon breaks into a stone-cold groove. Here, Macias uses the rhythmic swagger to impart a chilled blue tone into his vocal. Serving him well, he craftily weaves it around the chords in patterns, throwing neat lyrical twin hooks into the verses – “Spiders on my face / Snakes inside my face”. Running at nearly eight minutes in length, you still wouldn’t say it overstays its welcome.

Ramping up the atmospherics, “Kickin’ Curbs With A Thin Stick” and “Cross” offer up sub-level bass and the warping environs of Deftones-esque lush-to-crush experimentation. The former ends with a section where the strings drop out to leave just the synth roaming from the left ear to the right like a lost bee buzzing around inside our skulls. One to avoid is the mathy “Lie Is The Answer” which punches low as the vocalist trades restraint for over-commitment to the cause. Resplendent at it’s heart, the remainder is just too loud and too loose to really make any impact.

The band’s willingness to trade between grit and power and colour-streaked, ambient washes means that there is never a dull moment at any point in this self-titled debut. Most certainly, there is room for manoeuvre and not everything meshes together quite as you’d expect it to, but there is more than enough quality within to warrant further investigation – there aren’t all that many albums out there with this much variety on display. PHE have certainly shown that they have the courage to push things to the next level and that bodes well for their future. With an extra layer of lacquer applied to the production next time out, they might just yet surprise us all. Now, whose turn is it with Jimi’s big box of matches?

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2014/02/purplehaze-ensemble-st-unquiet/

Album Review: Eye Of Solitude – Canto III

The concept of a guided tour around a city centre is, on the face of it, a decent idea. All the better if it’s a night tour of all the area’s more spooky haunts. I’d understand if this one isn’t your bag though – having some pimply pre-pubescent in a bleeding Scream mask jumping out at you can inspire one to violence. How about a guided tour down through the nine circles of hell, though? Yes? In that case, you’ve come to the right place.

It doesn’t take a genius to understand that Dante Alighieri’s 14th-century allegorical epic poem Inferno (the first part of his monster work The Divine Comedy), where his guide Virgil takes him down into the belly of the Earth, has played a hugely influential role in the development of the dark arts both directly and indirectly. It seems such a natural progression, then, for heavy metal bands (Iced Earth, Sepultura, Meshuggah, HIM, etc. ad infinitum) to look upon the visions of Dante as truly inspirational. London’s Eye Of Solitude, with new album Canto III, are the latest to have a crack at providing the ultimate soundtrack to his prose.

Click here to listen whilst you read...

From every angle, their soul-sapping, funereal doom is perfectly suited to the role and, quite honestly, if at some point during its running time you don’t feel overwhelmed then you have a harder heart than my own. I felt overwhelmed just looking at that gorgeous album cover (by Mortal Torment’s own Giannis Nakos) of Charon the ferryman navigating the river Acheron. I mean, just look at the intensity of the colours and the gentle tapering of the misty point where sky meets water.

Naturally attempting to live up to the imagery, one instantly knows the music is not going to be for the faint of heart. Take the lyrics. When they are delivered at little more than a skull-shaking rumble, all frustrating attempts to decipher those words that lurk behind it is going to be an impossible task. However, it does seem safe to assume that somewhere amidst the fear-mongering, the infamous (and much abused) line “Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate” (meaning “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here”) will feature in some form.

So, wind up the volume, sink back and close your eyes and let your imagination run amok. Follow these instructions and you will discover that from the thunder and lightning as the first act “Between Two Worlds” opens, right through to the close of the sixth act as dawn breaks “In The Desert Vast”, Eye Of Solitude have created a gripping, at times bludgeoning and often torturous experience. When the double-kick isn’t letting rip and the infamous soul-sucking roar of lead vocalist Daniel Neagoe isn’t kicking you in the gut, the effective insertion of featherlight segues encourages your mind to wander off and explore the landscape that the music inhabits.

“Where the Descent Began”, for instance, is a track that features a pounding heartbeat effect, echoing footsteps, cries of anguish and a wedge of breathy vocal. There’s also guest spots from Anton Rosa on vocals and Dmitry “Casper” Rishko on violin (both from Russia’s Dominia). “He Who Willingly Suffers” features a gentle piano riff and a faltering spoken vocal, both so restrained and so doused in emotion that they will leave you reeling. “The Pathway Has Been Lost” has sobbing, whilst “I Sat In Silence” is all about Neagoe letting go of his very deepest, bowel-emptying growl.

The critic in me would have preferred a grittier guitar tone on the lead solos (they’re a bit too electro, a bit too synthetic), and an even tougher, meatier bite to the doom with a more intense degree of layering. Also, hearing more of the varying types of torture suffered by the sinners and their vocalised anguish would have ramped the fear up several notches.

Happily, Dante’s Inferno is this year’s current hot topic, thanks to Dan Brown’s latest adventurous novel. That particular release is a timely reminder of just how much frivolous tat on the subject there really is out there. Fear not though, if you are you still a lost soul who fancies getting closer to a taste of what hell is like then, next to the great work itself, Canto III is one of your better options. It is a distressingly cruel, grief-soaked and ultimately tormenting journey that Eye Of Solitude have presented here. You know you have sinned. Now prepare to regret and repent.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/12/eye-of-solitude-canto-iii/

Album Review: Secrets Of The Sky – To Sail Black Waters

Most debut albums tend to be rough-and-ready and recorded in a day by the lead singer’s dodgy Uncle Frank who happens to own a beat-up old eight-track. Well, perhaps not quite that punk, but they do usually veer towards being more of a “bish-bash-bosh” affair  – they certainly don’t usually take eight months to record and emerge with the kind of sprawling, cinematic layering that To Sail Black Waters features – three cheers for engineer / producer Juan Urteaga’s (Testament, Machine Head) patience and perseverance. But then everything about Secrets Of The Sky is unusual.

They hail from Oakland, California yet have been signed by Italian record label Kolony Records who have been specialising in “recruiting lost souls since 2008″ (their roster includes artists based in far-flung fields such as Australia, Andorra and Jordan). SOTS consist of six members, half of whom contribute with multiple instruments – their lead vocalist, for instance, also plays keyboards and violin. Most mind-boggling of all is the music itself which draws on a wide range of inspirations and still manages to intricately weave these genres together to create something truly fresh and exciting.

Best described as an atmospheric, doomy, subversively black, richly progressive and bollock-janglingly heavy metal band, they mostly meander across the exploratory black paths of Enslaved and Ihsahn but don’t seem afraid to thread unusual sonic touches that evoke the output of artists like Vangelis, Giorgio Moroder, Cult Of Luna, Isis, Opeth and Agalloch. The monstrously huge and intricately-layered production is ocean-deep and rich with the multi-part vocals proving the vital finishing touches. It’s a rare thing to find 5 different forms of vocal attack yet here Garett Gazay treats us to his room-shaking roar, a gravel-toned scathing, an emotion-tugging clean and a menacing whisper. The fifth comes completely out of the blue – a haunting crystalline chanting; an emotional clarion call that will draw tears.

Wading through we get an “Echo Beach”-riff and an oblique Machine Head-esque lick that both shake up the stormy wilderness of “Winter”. A crushing triple-guitar death rattle opens “Decline” but this soon shifts into a strong folky vocal sequence. Constantly shifting, it’s not long before we get a burst of something wholly more epic, almost Bladerunner-esque, as a proggy twin-synth set kicks in. Elsewhere, we get the hearty dark tones of “Sunrise”, a pitch black doom skewed by a switch-up into a softer shoegaze motif.

Star of the show is the 11-minute “Black Waters”. With a title like that how could you not expect to hear Opeth in this, yet here Secrets Of The Sky fearlessly dive into their subject matter of death with real abandon and without restriction. A whispered vocal over plinking minor chords gently pad their way into what turns out to be a dangerously-deep groove – necks will snap. This is the belly of the beast and it will grip you like a vice, carving you open for that heart-wrenching finish.

With surprises at every turn you’ll continually find yourself expecting this wildly original album to jar you by twisting the knife too much and yet these four songs, no more are needed, flow like a dream, drawing you further and further below the surface. It is a debut like no other and marks these Californians out as real forgotten heroes. They may have slipped through the major label net the first time but that won’t happen again now that this behemoth of a record is finally ready to drop.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/10/secrets-of-the-sky-to-sail-black-waters-kolony-records/

Album Review: Nightmares On Wax – Feelin’ Good

The best parties all have soundtracks and invariably, at some point, the frivolities will feature a band who play something so chilled out and achingly soulful that you might well struggle to identify them. Ask enough times what that band is and there’s a good chance you’ll discover it to be Nightmares On Wax.

Since the early 90s, NOW project mastermind George Evelyn has been taking his band on the road and steadily feeding us album after album of solid downtempo gold. These days, he’s a busy man (Evelyn is a label owner, a consultant and a producer) so it’s no surprise that this latest record, Feelin’ Good, represents his first full body of work in five years.

Evelyn, of course, has never really set out to write a complete song; one with a beginning, middle and end. He’s always been more of a scene-setter, a mood-creator, so it matters little that his music loops back on itself again and again. Think of his writing as more of a set of slowly evolving emotions and you’ll begin to appreciate the qualities that lurk within each of Feelin’ Good‘s evocative, phasing beats. Long gone are those harsh cuts that crafted the staggering journey of his first few albums, now it’s all about absorbing the vibe. He’s whisked us away from the dancefloor and firmly embedded us in the chillout zone, riding that cyclical, percussive wave to its inevitable mesmeric climax.

The concept of making music in the sun is something that Evelyn is clearly loving – “Not to take away from any of my previous music but Feelin’ Good is what I’ve always been trying to do. To this end, Evelyn has collaborated with old friends and sourced intelligently from others. For instance, the orchestration and strings were created in Berlin by Jazzanova arranger Sebastian Studnitzky and the drum patterns come courtesy of “virtuoso German jazz percussionist” Wolfgang Haffner. One run-through of opening track ‘So Here We Are’ should be enough to win you over. Like a refined mix of Carboot Soul‘s ‘Jorgé’ ripples with soft, interweaving trumpets and strings – you can almost hear the waves rhythmically lapping at the shore and feel the heat of the sun under which this was brewed.

Digging deeper, you’ll uncover the joys of a warbling, soft shoe shuffle (‘Be, I Do’), a strong jazzy Earl Klugh-esque vibe (‘Luna 2′), and some funky rocksteady (‘Now Is The Time’). There’s also ‘Eye (Can’t See)’ to digest – a strong, incandecent number, curiously reminiscent of The Herbaliser and even Bombay Monkey, which is layered to the gills and drives on through its varied breaks and affectations. These together, offer a perfect range of differently-paced and smartly-presented numbers that all cycle and fade. They’re tonal pieces that will define the moods of our party-goers; the ones they will drink in. Naturally, they form the album’s bedrock moments.

Inevitably, there is some anomalous filler to contend with. We get the sore thumb of ‘Give Thx’ plonking itself down, crooning away like some dull Motown boy band, and ‘Tapestry’ which offers up a pointless instrumental with 80s tones and a weird knocking that, first time round, will trick you into getting up to answer the door. To counter these, there are a couple of smart surprises in ‘Masterplan’ and the ‘Om Sweet H(Om)e’. The former sees Californian folk singer Katy Gray pop up with a touch of fragile trip-hop to complement some sumptuous, embedded violins that bring a subtle sway to proceedings and gift it with a sweet Bond-ian motif. The latter is an odd, 7-minute ayurvedic wash that features Evelyn and Shovel (M People) chanting “Om” at us in the style of Tibetan monks.

It is all about the journey with NOW albums and this one’s natural end does come with the ultimate party comedown – where did it say on the Feelin’ Good tin about that one? Also, no matter how pleasant the rest of the package may seem, this journey doesn’t really take you to any wildly interesting places either. Happily, the smoothness of the ride, a far cry from the sharp techno apexes and sudden hip-hop divots of debut A Word Of Science, does mean it’s certainly an album with a beautiful flow to it and that is essential in this blissful chillout zone of theirs. These may just be a series of outlines essentially, but we, the audience, are the ones who must ultimately fill in our own colours. Once more, Nightmares On Wax provide the backing music to the party; once more, your enjoyment is only limited by your own imagination.

This review also online @ The Line Of Best Fit = http://thelineofbestfit.com/reviews/albums/nightmares-on-wax-feelin-good-134405

Album Review: Thränenkind – The Elk

The album art, a colourless, out-of-focus shack lost in a barren wasteland, should tip you off to the kind of music that lurks within. Thränenkind are just one of a batch of ambient hardcore bands that seem to be turning heads of late. Though they aren’t adverse to tossing you glimpses of light, they do generally pitch an achingly grey, miserabilist backdrop at you, then attempt to shade it with streaks of blood red and black that burst from a cantankerous, subversive screamed vocal.

Past experience with bands like The Elijah, Amia Venera Landscape and Devil Sold His Soul has taught this reviewer that when the two opposing forces nail the timing and click into place, they can create an overwhelmingly emotional reaction. When they misfire and fail to illicit that heart-pounding response the tracks can become very tiresome, very quickly. What’s frustrating is that generally this is very much the case here.

Boasting doom-esque features and some passages of spoken word, tracks like “Today, The Sea” and “Eternal Youth” retain all the latent power that exists within the slowly-shifting sonic tide by force-feeding an interesting, lighter, building wall of twinkling sound into these invidious screams. This creation of an ebbing backwash which rumbles under the narrated parts is utterly mesmeric. These latter parts are clearly the extra dimension that is required for the rest to mesh together. However, surrounding these tracks like a vast ocean is plenty of overtly repetitive toying with a basic sequence of keys. Those who love a bit of shoegaze should find plenty to mong out to as these cyclical tracks fade in and out of each other almost imperceptibly.

The concept is suitably bleak, covering two siblings journeying to their father’s funeral, and the music portrays the emotional turmoil this pair undergo along the way. Clearly, there can be no doubt that these Germans are really aiming to spark a reaction and establish a connection. Sadly, however, the tonal depths of this debut full-length won’t break hearts like other bands in the genre can. Its biggest failing, though, is never nailing down enough diverse content to keep us hooked.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/09/thranenkind-the-elk-lifeforce-records/

Album Review: Palms – Palms

Rip out the gnarled beasties that lurked within ISIS, the howling, human cyclone that was Aaron Turner and the sudden, throaty wall-of-sound guitar that Michael Gallagher was capable of, and you’re left with a bit of a soft touch. However, throw in the unique, game-changing voice of Deftones’ Chino Moreno and suddenly you have an excitingly fresh, dynamic combo that offers the potential for something truly special. Early run-throughs of this, Palms’ self-titled debut, reveals that the heart of ISIS still beats on and within Jeff Caxide (bass), Aaron Harris (drums) and Bryant Clifford Meyer (keys and guitars) it appears to be beating more strongly than ever. The dark, brooding anger of their old band may be gone, but retention of emotion is still their raison d’être and this thing is flooded with it.

With everything kept in-house, right down to the production and mixing duties (handled by Harris), the overall tone is immediately familiar. ISIS’ burnt-out, skidding instrumentals meet Chino’s gorgeous croon head on and the end result, although being way more lush than expected, is littered with moments that remove your capacity for resisting emotion and motion – your heads will nod, your hair will stand on end and your spine will shiver.

Doing justice to the impact that “Future Warrior” has made on this reviewer is a tough ask. With its cogently circular verse, bridge and chorus, it is a creation that is about as tangibly close to being populist as these artists would ever dare travel, and yet it resists any of the finer trappings of the mainstream by remaining beyond the reach of those fashionistas with their prerequisite short-attention spans. God forbid they ever release a radio edit though – it could make and break them all at once. Chino’s vast vocal range, from deep, softly-whispered croaks to piercing, divergent, anguished howls, beautifully complements the warm, haunting tones and creamy textures of the strings and keys, lifting them from the warm, crystal-clear waters of their birthplace to the heavenly skies above.

The difference between the similarly luscious, soft-hearted tracks “Shortwave Radio” and “Tropics” and the rougher, electro edges of “Mission Sunset” is marked. The latter, dark of purpose, burns with a slowly-released reserve of buzzing energy and clanging melancholy. The first signs of imperfection crop up here as the vocal and backing do jar a little in places, almost like two pieces from different puzzles, wedged together. “Antarctic Handshake” isn’t faultless either and although it truly is suitably spartan and determinedly steady of pace, the tone remains unnvervingly warm as pastel vocals are brushed back and forth across a gentile, yet vibrant backdrop. At nigh on 10 minutes, it is mostly just filler, spending much of its running time warbling within its watery repose, rebounding back off its own walls and doesn’t age at all well.

It would be harsh to expect this debut release to be wholly organic, but it is an interesting novelty to discover the oddly digital, viscous quality that lurks within. As much as you loved Deftones gritty, subversive edge or ISIS’ heaviosity, this ambient-minded collective are, as Chino suggests on “Shortwave Radio”, just as capable of offering you both polar extremes – “Ascending you to Heaven whilst staring into Hell / You’re staring into Heaven, descending into Hell”.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/06/palms-palms-ipecac/

EP Review: NVRVD - Coma

NVRVD are, undoubtedly, a band of contradictions. If, like me, you’ve never come across them before, this 6-track EP of theirs may just leave you feeling a little burnt out. Just as soon as you believe you have a solid idea as to what brand of heavy they are throwing down here, they will switch up or switch down and you’ll have to start all over again. It’s kind of like the first time you try to wade through The Dillinger Escape Plan jungle of sounds or try to decipher The Chariot’s ADHD-afflicted blueprint. The answer may lie in their variety of listed influences which stretch from the ‘core blitzkrieg of Trap Them and Converge, on through the groove-injected crush of Gojira and Machine Head and far out to the stoned chug of Mastodon and Down.

A quick trawl through the NVRVD (a.k.a. Never Void) web-lopaedia reveals that they are a trio who hail from the German state of North-Rhine Westphalia and, since forming back in 2004, have independently-released three albums and a couple of other bits and bobs and have now ended up, most suitably, on the Hummus label owned by The Ocean’s Jona Nida.

Heading down through Coma‘s layers, the chasm of “Oberohe” opens up to reveal a deep, ethereal doom that builds through a series of echoing crashes. The twist is the monster within which bursts forth to sink its teeth into death-fuelled hardcore and thrash elements, before returning to its vast underwater cave again. “Impartial Eyes” and the enigmatically addictive “We Are” give us an unfiltered, raw mix that rips off its punk n’ roll skin to reveal a blackened ‘core. The Braunschmidt brothers’ distant, reverb-loaded screams are so disembodied here that it’s almost as if they’ve been shackled to the studio back wall, away from their mic stands.

“An Echo To Your Unbeliefs” revisits the subterranean doom of “Oberohe”, whilst “Niederohe” pitches at us a move from the dark into the light with a sweet, wandering bassline and smarting chugs that branch out into yet another reverberating wall of sound. Wedged between these two lies the antithetic “No Heaven” which stands guilty of getting drunk on its own dizzying power. It tosses us from empty feedback into raging hardcore lunacy and back again, offering little but impact.

There’s something distinctly loveable about the honesty of Coma‘s nerve-frazzling ride through its peaks and troughs. You’ll feel like the proverbial punchbag… at times you’ll be hanging still, soaking up the atmosphere of a dark gym and at others you’ll be getting seven shades of shit knocked out of you. Perhaps not one for the mainstream metalheads amongst us, but the more contrary souls should lap this up.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/05/nvrvd-coma-hummus-records/

Album Review: The Omega Experiment – The Omega Experiment

Recently, a small progressive rock grenade went off on bandcamp. It happened when The Omega Experiment digitally self-released their debut album and, as word spread, Listenable Records’ interest was piqued and a deal was inked. A few months down the line and this Michigan trio are ready for lift-off with this re-released physical copy – it’s about time we gave you the lowdown on it then.

Now, what makes this one stand out about above most is the album’s general tone. It’s an upbeat pastiche of jagged strings and euphoric synths and comes with energy in abundance. At times, you’ll find yourself overwhelmed by it as unconfined joy washes over you in layers. The whole vehicle stands on the strength of its lush, interwoven vocals and recorded spoken interviews – the latter technique reminds me of those ambiguous ripped radio edits that pop up on groovy lounge albums performed by the likes of Lemon Jelly and Bombay Monkey.

Kicking us off, “Gift” hits like a twenty-foot breaker; wide as an aircraft carrier, deep as the ocean itself. The enormity of it is staggering as it echoes through euphoric builds and poppy hooks. It’s instantly reminiscent of the vast soundscapes created by musical genii like Devin Townsend and Jim Matheos (this eloquently echoes his O.S.I. project for many different reasons). Dan Wieten’s multi-tracked, subtly whining vocals search out catchy, flamboyant flourishes and harmonic peaks to really drive home each set of lyrics (all of which are kept deliberately vague to allow you to apply your own assumptions). Through the hearty emotion and crushing drums of tracks like “Stimulus” and “Bliss” they begin to bed down to a place where they echo the rich, complex structures of certain so-called ambidjent bands such as Tesseract, Vildhjarta and Chimp Spanner.

And yet, it’s only in the angrier clutches of “Furor” and “Karma”, at moments when the thudding guitar dissonance steps up to lay it on thick and heavy and the vocal becomes a disembodied roar, that they begin to really display their full potential with some mind-mangling complexity of structure and mean tech skills to boot. Hell, they’re dipping their toes in Between The Buried And Me and The Contortionist territory here. It’s the instrumentals too that offer up a chance to impress but they don’t lay themselves as bare here as expected (we have to wait until the subtle pop spin and gentle psych of “Terminus” for that to occur), but it is here that they are found a little wanting. The jokingly-titled “Tranquility”, with its infuriatingly-repetitive one-liner and cacophonous climax is a weak spot, and “Bliss” which throws two different spoken-word scripts at you, one in one ear and one in the other, turns your brain to blancmange.

It’s not just a clown of an album; it’s the complete circus. There are all sorts of high-wire antics as guitars are juggled and pounding cannons sound off to the tune of the ringmaster. There are even comedic skits where the candied synth tries, unsuccessfully, to steal the spotlight. Then, as the show draws to a close, the thumping dance euphoria of “Paramount” raises the roof and drops like the final piece in the jigsaw. Yes, you can be certain you’ve got your money’s worth with this one.

Album teaser @ their Bandcamp = http://theomegaexperiment.bandcamp.com/track/album-teaser

Review also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/01/the-omega-experiment-st-listenable-records/

Album Review: Whales And Aurora - The Shipwreck

Lately, there’s been an awful lot of both creaking ocean-themed concepts and atmospheric hardcore albums knocking about and this little beauty hammers both of those increasingly prevalent events together. These points might lead one to believe that Whales And Aurora are fans of emotionally visceral bands like Devil Sold His Soul or Amia Venera Landscape but having checked out their list of influences it appears they are more likely to listen to blissed-out rumblers like Lento, Mastodon and Russian Circles. Ignoring the incendiary wailing, the Italians’ The Shipwreck certainly lives up to that premise with the band cutting no corners and sinking their teeth in for long, rotational runs to strengthen their musical structures.

Maximum volume and total immersion is required to fully appreciate the band’s efforts here, although blissful sonic drifting is made difficult and, suprisingly, the culprit isn’t Alberto Brunello’s vocal. Andrea Segnini Campesato’s snare mic has been wound up a tad too loud (trust me, you won’t miss its intermittent, aggressive “pop” sound). Instantly recognisable when it’s pounding upon the creaking bones of “Achieving The Unavoidable”, it happily sits deeper in the mix when the swathes of bottom-end cut in through the rougher sections of “Recounting Words”.

The tracks tend to rely on repeating chords which ride over peaks and through troughs, true forces of nature, but every now and then the more experimental edge of the band rises to the fore. It can be found attacking us though the monotonously crashing chord strikes of “The Aground Hard Ship” and sending our minds spiralling with the mesmerically chiming, twinkling strings of the glorious “Abandoned Among Echoes” and the somewhat clunkier “Awakened By The Aurora”.

The combined and varied musical backgrounds of the band has led to an interesting mixture of pleasure and pain; never quite tearing you apart they manage to crush and soothe in equal measure. There’s a depressive quality that settles over the listener like a cowl (the blackened gloom of “Floating On Calm Waters” is the maritime equivalent of a death march), yet the tanker-sized riffs that power the beast are from an entirely different place. The Shipwreck may not ultimately prove to be their greatest achievement, but Whales And Aurora’s waves of attack are something that just have to be experienced to be believed.

Also online (with score and links) @  Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2012/10/whales-aurora-the-shipwreck-slow-burn-records/

Album Review: Hammock – Chasing After Shadows… Living With The Ghosts

...At the end of the day, nothing seems suitably comparable with the immersive and incredibly uplifting experience that Hammock offer. The songs are more like watery images of moments in time. ‘You Lost The Starlight In Your Eyes’, for instance, is a gentile train journey with lush, green landscapes drifting past before it all rapidly changes to ravaged sands beaten by the sun and the wind, all ending in a mist-covered, bombed-out ghost town. Then, ‘How Can I Make You Remember Me?’ conjures up a mental picture of a crystal-clear, bluer-than blue dive site swimming with all manners of marine life. No matter which track, there is always a mental image to explore.

Be it the echoic chime of a keyboard, the rumbling of an insistent bassline, the soft-shuffle of drum brushes, or an imperceptible, curiously winding series of vocalisations, you’ll find yourself lost in a world of your own creation. There aren’t many bands that allow their listeners to have so much input into the end product. Had enough of suckling the poison from vapid dancefloor stompers or soul-less copycat pop songs? Let Hammock be your antidote.

Full review = http://www.thelineofbestfit.com/2010/07/hammock-chasing-after-shadows-living-with-ghosts/