Album Review: Shakhtyor – Tunguska

With “demanding full-time jobs”, these Hamburgers’ often struggle to find time to write, practice and record. And yet here they are with their second album having thrashed out a finished product down at Tonmeisterei Studio with producer Roland Wiegener (Omega Massif, Kodiak, Long Distance Calling). The end result is certainly meaty, but is there something missing?

The instrumental Tunguska opens out with a High On Fire-esque sludge-fuelled attack but soon backs off into meandering doomy passages. Very quickly it becomes apparent that their aspirations stretch no further than hitting a sonic peak and beating their heads against the resultant wall-of-sound until either they or the listener crack. Tracks simply melt into one another as the band vary their attack as little as possible. So close are some of the tracks in style, tone and pitch that you’d almost believe they occupy parts of one almighty whole.

Essentially, the concept of instrumental doom has always been a flawed one. It works, to a degree, if the songwriting is crafty enough and the players and production are of the highest quality. Here, there is merely a sense of being trapped inside one almighty 48-minute jam. Never has a band needed a vocalist more than this lot. They are essentially a combination of Baroness’ sludge and exploratory burble with Kongh’s blackened gnarl and sonic drift – of course, with those bands’ key vocal element removed.

Take “Schlagwetter”, it is the aural equivalent of the M25. It’s cyclical, lane-changing, fast-slow construction irritates to the point of distraction. A certain pleasure could be derived from ramming the volume up to neighbour-bothering levels, with the slow build and crush of “Zerfall” inevitably doing the most damage. Fear not, though, there are tracks that work. “Pechblende”, for the simple reason that it’s shorter running time matches the impact of its sparse content, and “Solaris” which thunders down within a vicious, chug-happy psychedelic groove.

The curse of time may be the deciding factor here then, but there is evidence that, on the stage, Shakhtyor could be quite the band. In the studio, they aren’t a million miles away from making their mark either, they just need to expand their minds and develop their vision. Here’s hoping the boss cuts them a little slack.

Also on online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2015/04/shakhtyor-tunguska-cyclone-empire/

Album Review: Colossus – The Breathing World

Frailty within crush – the illusion of impact through dissonance and groove can so quickly be tempered by their integration into a honeycombed network of progressive, exploratory structures. What you end up with is the aural equivalent of a wire brush – thick, harsh lines that mesh to form a shape with more space than solid.

One band that falls into this category are Colossus. Striking moniker, striking sound. Labelling themselves as post-sludge, this Swedish trio have their emphasis very much on the former syllable rather than the latter. In all honesty, there is much more stoner drift in their music than they are willing to admit to. The Breathing World carries on from where their debut, Wake, left off and “follows the protagonist’s crooked journey to clarity in a surreal and mysterious but deeply human world.” Their words, not mine.

It’s actually an album that wobbles, rather than strides, into existence with ‘Yehi Aour / Wanderers’ featuring deep, maudlin guitars, jarringly mirrored by a towering vocal monotone. It soon gathers pace and strength of purpose though, becoming the proverbial rolling stone, shedding moss by the bucketload.

Niklas Eriksson’s vocal has most certainly flourished since Wake and is further assisted here by Tom van Heesch’s (Rammstein, Michael Monroe) meatier production. There is an exciting variation of tone here, and Eriksson experiments by doubling up on the vocals and pulling back from his characteristic top end to explore his full range. At full stretch, when he clutches at his upper register, his delivery does become strained but, conversely, it also provides that unique focal point that separates the band’s sound from the masses.

From ‘Darkling Root’ we are pushed further down their rabbit-hole as the pace rises to become a forceful groove, peaking with the addictive hook that marks out ‘Plumed Serpent’ and the furious cries for “Lib-er-ation!”. Here, they begin to pick up elements of Torche, early-Baroness and little riff affectations that mirror monsters like those of Mastodon and Pelican. They also begin to reveal a certain penchant for subtle post-rock exploration.

The softer souls of ‘Virgin’s Milk’ and ‘The Silent City’, in particular, are riddled with emotion as Eriksson dips down to a whisper to pull out tunes that dig their nails beneath the skin. Elsewhere, the dissolute structure that houses the rich, psychedelic pull of ‘Fuga Mundi’ stands in direct contrast to the uninhibited, roaring waves and menacing undercurrent of ‘Whetstone’.

Fans will inevitably love The Breathing World for its esoteric edge, whilst the less tolerant will struggle to accept such histrionics and yearn for more of their famously empowering groove. Colossus have some way to go to find an easy balance between that frailty and crush. What isn’t in doubt is the fact that this next phase in their development is a bold step up from their debut. Its a magnificently diverse, gloriously colourful, forward-facing, wildly introspective album.

Also online @ HBIH = http://www.heavyblogisheavy.com/2015/03/27/colossus-the-breathing-world/

Album Review: Amniac – Infinite

Fresh from the Greek fire, these young post-metallers’ offer up their raw debut long-player, Infinite, with arguably their weakest track smack-bang in the shop window. Naturally, being the metal detectorists we are, we weren’t deterred by such a foul odour and delved deeper to discover something far more appealing within. Indeed, here lies metal that dabbles in dark places, moulding the triple-threat of doom, black and sludge together to form a subversive, gnarled ball of bellicosity. 

That opening track, ‘And The Others Just Survive’, is all about the vocals and their relationship to the guitars. The whole comes at you in waves which only highlights the paucity in production values. The guitars work as a sludgy, dissonant series of chugs and twinkling top line, but the vocals aren’t quite so full. In fact, they are agonizingly short on body, leaving them sounding thin, weedy and loose in comparison to the string and drum thunder that surround them. Vocalist Upsetter has the gargled roars down pat but instead of sounding like the voice of the Devil he comes across like a bag of nails being hit against a hollow wall. Dwell ye not on this – it’s a failing that can be addressed in the studio next time around.

 Where Amniac excel is in the way they rather craftily employ the vocal as an extra instrument, using it only in context. When extra power is needed, Upsetter steps up to the mic and fires out penetrative lyrics in sentences, repeating them mantra-like in clipped cycles. They aren’t restricted by genre either, sourcing several different tones and styles to complement each theme. In places like ‘Rise Like The Suns‘ they take on the dark instrumental overtones of Russian Circles, creating melancholic strands that feed into euphoric gutsy grooves that are more reminiscent of early Baroness. The hammering vehemence and frugal vocal parts of ‘The Infinite‘ play on elements of Secrets Of The Sky‘s delivery whilst ‘A System Waiting To Fail’ and ‘Our Kind The Plague’ grip like Steak Number Eight’s finest pieces. These pound out the same riffs again and again to leave a ditch. ‘A System…‘, in particular, features a notable Nirvana-esque on-beat vocal technique with a mesmeric accompanying section of rhythmic, monotone, juddering chugs that build to a hellish crescendo.

 Time and again the clever song construction collapses and rebuilds itself yet somehow retains an organic flow. The music has a solid sense of direction too, one that inexorably pulls you in. It may not be the most sophisticated post-metal you’ve ever come across but it sure is exhilarating. Certainly, techniques need to be honed, production tightened and marketing savvy acquired but, even in their current form, you can sense their keen, flaming eyes igniting the path to your soul. No surprise – Amniac is, after all, just a dyslexic maniac.

 

Also online @ Heavy Blog Is Heavy = http://www.heavyblogisheavy.com/2015/01/30/amniac-infinite/

EP Review: Baroness – Live At Maida Vale

Nearly a year has passed since that fateful day when the Baroness tour bus plunged 30ft off a viaduct in Bath, England. Nine folks were transported to hospital that day, all with severe injuries. Some suffered more than others and during the lengthy recovery period that followed Allen Blickle and Matt Maggioni sadly announced their departure from the band. With Pete Adams and John Baizley carrying on, this latest recording sees a changed line-up performing at the famous BBC Studios in Maida Vale.

With the songs all coming from the double-album they were touring that day, there is a special significance placed on each track. It is almost unavoidable that the lyrics are now burdened with different interpretations. Just the title of “Take My Bones Away” is enough to trigger a lump in the throat. It wouldn’t be right if they didn’t come across differently, being a live EP, so I am pleased to report only improvements to songs that felt a little too much like repetitious pop songs the first time around.

There is no doubt that any kind of muddy, under-produced mix brings out the best in Baroness and this one brings them a bit closer to their powerful early work and their true live sound. Their warm, fuzzed tone has been brought to the fore and this has captured the dark emotion-soaked undercurrent (that melancholy they wear like a comforter) so much better than in the studio mixes. The clean harmonies are still there too, but their levels are now more on a par with the guitars. Consequently, they sound more integral and don’t stick out like sore thumbs (excuse the pun).

The portentous intros are excellent additions (the building cymbals on “Take My Bones Away”, the echoing strums on “March To The Sea”), driving the listener into each track. The biggest winner here though is “Cocainium”. With a subtle warping invoked and the sustain dial notched up, the flow is so much gentler and you’ll find yourself really tripping out. It’s true that the songs can still be viewed as a departure for them; their hands stretching out to the revolving, melodic, space rock that Torche have made their own in recent years. Also, there’s a mere four tracks, none of which haven’t been released already in some form, but it doesn’t really matter. It’s just great to see them back recording and playing their music with new impetus, doing the songs justice and producing a record that die-hard fans will truly cherish.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/07/baroness-live-at-maida-vale-relapse/

Album Review: Baroness – Yellow & Green

Only a visual artist would name his band’s opuses Red Album, then Blue Record, then have us all guessing as to what colour was to follow. Go on. We were all guessing, weren’t we? The artist in question, of course, is John Dyer Baizley. He’s the man responsible for his and so many other bands’ artwork so, following the thought process that a painter’s primary colours would be blue, red and yellow, I plumped for Yellow. I certainly didn’t expect him to pull Green out the hat aswell. Of course, upon spinning this double-disc, I was naturally assuming Green to sound like a mix of Yellow and Blue Record, but I was wrong there too. Yep, Baroness have been experimenting… wildly.

First thing you’re going to notice is the vocals and you may balk at this information. There’s little to no snarls or roars (Baizley’s trademark bellowing howls of derision aren’t welcome here), the usual slathering of reverb has fallen away and a strong, doleful delivery has been brought into play. All these things bring the singing more into line with Torche’s clean, doubled-up approach. In fact there are several tracks that make parts of the album’s two halves work as neat brothers to Torche’s latest rumbler Harmonicraft. There’s no “Rays On Pinion” here, no “The Sweetest Curse”. Yes, it’s a shock. I’m playing it through right now for the umpteenth time and my face still looks like Janet Leigh’s when the knife cuts through her shower curtain.

So let’s start on Yellow. There’s plenty of old school influences here with a spot of Pink Floyd in “March To The Sea”, a dousing of Yes flamboyance and crude Sabbathian warble that licks around the languid psych of “Cocainium” and I’m even getting a King Crimson influence every now and again. It’s pretty dour fare for Baroness who previously have leeched innate joyfulness amidst their expansive constructions. If you’re looking for some of their signature clanging riffs and hearty passion, the closest you’re going to get is in the addictive yet crassly repetitious chorus, sweeped, looping effects and heavy fuzz of “Take My Bones Away”. In general terms, you’ll find a lot more clean notes here than ever before. There’s a dose of 60′s pop backing effects that walk alongside the folk acoustics of “Twinkler”, we get some 90′s indie-flecked shoegaze that punches its way through “Little Things” reducing it to a pretty uninspiring, insipid gloop, and there’s even a punkish gloom, a sonic curiosity that early R.E.M. albums boasted, in the driven pop of “Sea Lungs”. On the plus side, there’s plenty to dig on the rhythmical, rumbling gallop and reverse vocal effects of “March To The Sea” and in the dark underbelly of the 7-minute dream-pop of “Eula”, including a brazen, finger-powered wah-wah effect and a collusion of drum and bass aggression.

Turning to Green we find a work littered by space and plenty of witty, folk-fuelled pop. There are a couple of stars in “Board Up The House” and “Collapse”. The former is pure Torche with plenty of dirty fuzz, a kick-ass riff and a wired, dialled-in dual vocal whilst the latter is ripped with a dark acoustic grunge that softly squeezes layers of emotion through a backdrop of sub-aquatic, groaning effects. “Mtns. (The Crown & Anchor)” sways into view with a heart of bluesy pop and a fizzing effect on the vocals as, from here, Baroness carefully mark out Green‘s territory. Whether or not you are able to buy into the padding, languid pace of “Foolsong” or the sharply-plucked, instrumental lump of acoustic driftwood that “Stretchmarker” floats upon, will probably decide where you stand on Baroness’ softer side and genre-crossing freewheeling. For those who don’t, there’s a startling, pop-punk, twin-vocal attack (“Psalms Alive”) and a jagged, hit of Foo Fighters-esque alt-rock speed (“The Line Between”) to further confuse you.

I’ve always associated Baroness with bands like Russian Circles, Red Sparowes and Pelican, simply for their focus on a long-game of rampant melody and lavish structure. They have this uncanny ability to work from a subtle build to finish with a blood-pumpingly strong climax. Very little of that is left here. But to constantly look for what isn’t there would be criminal when what is there is so much more important. Here, they’ve created intuitive music that weaves in and out of moods, track by track. There is no plan, no desire to make do creating one style of music. It makes the album feel like a collection of lost songs; like they were created a long time ago but never quite suited Baroness’ style so never saw the light of day. Honestly, I wouldn’t have guessed the band in a million years had I heard this blind.

Ultimately though, the music feels exactly that – old. It’s intuitive music because it’s been heard before. Baroness have a good crack at seeking out an understated level of simplicity. Consequently, so many of the tracks emerge with just one trick up their sleeve. You can pretty much hear each attempt to focus on that one lyrical hook that defines the song. That, to me, shows the kind of naïvety that I never thought possible of a band whose past ingenuity has left me with goosebumps on my arms and a desire to immediately pick up a guitar. For those tracks here that do punch their way to the fore or, alternatively, simply refuse to be hurried along with their brethren, they break the mould.

Baroness seem to have gone through their entire palette creating Yellow & Green, their bravest and most honest work to date, but the end result is surprisingly lacking in colour.

Also online @ The NewReview =  http://thenewreview.net/reviews/baroness-yellow-green

Gig Review: Baroness – Water Rats, London 02/02/08

As a venue, the Water Rats is incredibly cramped, stiflingly hot and utterly lacking in rules or regulations. It would give any Health & Safety or DEFRA committee member a heart attack were they to discover there is no barrier, glass is allowed in the gig room, there is no security to control the crowd and there is seemingly no limit on levels of volume. Yes, it is utterly fantastic.

The gig has completely sold out and, even better, Taint has been added to the bill. They are quick to blow us away with their high-tempo rock n’ sludge groove. A large chunk of their set is naturally off the well-received 2007 ‘Secrets and Lies’ album.

The bassist, Chris West is spending a lot of time at the bottom end of his fretboard giving the three-piece a punchy, vibrant quality. Lead singer Jimbob urges the crowd on with little pep talks. “Step forward – the more you give the more we give”, he yells and we all surge in on him. They invite a mouse-like flautist to take the stage before launching into the fantastically epic ‘What the Crow Saw’ with its blinding momentum and Led Zep flair. The lads from South Wales are definitely one to watch out for.

We quickly realise how loud psych-metal outfit Kylesa are going to be when they begin setting up a second drumkit. When they finally kick things off it’s like the police have invaded a ‘Stomp’ live show! Wailing siren guitars scream bloody murder as the two beaters thrash out a syncopated series of thunderclaps creating their own mini-wind chamber of soundwaves. The hefty overdrive on the guitars blanket everything in a dizzying wash of volume. Singing duties are split between the good, the bad and the ugly triumvirate out front – the hirsute Philip Cope, blonde scream-queen Laura Pleasants and the scary-as-fuck, headbanging Catweazle look-a-like Corey Barhorst. It’s a fearsome combination and they are truly worthy of our adoration.

Baroness emerge from the gloom like battle-hardened heroes. All heads turn to the ringmaster, John Baizely, with his mighty beard, flip-down jaw and bulging eyeballs.

A man of many talents, Baizley’s artwork is selling like hot cakes at the merch stand, particularly the special poster he’s drawn just for this gig. But it’s here, with his white Gibson in hand, where he most excels. Though a combination of step and sustain effect vocals he plays the haunting opening bars of ‘Rays of Pinion’, gradually bringing in the lead riff which after an age the drummer grabs hold of and we kick off into the wonderful prog-rock and stoner metal world that Baroness have created for us. Their set is heavy on new ‘Red Album’ material and that’s exactly why we’re here cheering as ‘Birthing’, ‘Wanderlust’ and ‘Isak’ are whipped out.

The long-lost music combined with the stage’s flashing fairy lights and big gothic columns are enough to send the sanest man a bit nuts. Lo and behold, here comes our nutter. Emerging on top of the heaving crowd he is surfed right to the back of the room before being turned and fed all the way back forward. Eventually he is puked up onto the stage nearly taking out the bleary-eyed bassist Summer Welch. He clearly hasn’t finished and begins crashing his skull into the cymbal in time with the beat. After a couple of minutes of this one fan finally has had enough and plays security getting up to push him off stage before taking back his position at the front.

Throughout the band are unmoved in their determination to play seamlessly, without pause, from start to finish. The wonderfully upbeat ‘Wailing Wintry Wind’ invites us to dance with reindeers and jingle our sleigh bells. On the busier numbers the melee of whining guitars actually start drowning each other out turning the clever guitar interplay to a thick sludge. No matter though as there are plenty of songs that pound with simplicity and ‘O’Appalachia’ has that in spades. “Raise…your… voices…” belts out Baizley and we all join in with pumping fists and strained vocal chords. They end on ‘Grad’ and deafened, but delighted, we cheer them from the stage.

Photo courtesy of Rich E

Also online @ TLOBF = http://www.thelineofbestfit.com/2008/02/baroness-%E2%80%93-water-rats-london-020208/