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/

EP Review: Anti Ritual – Anti Ritual

Not to be confused with Anti-Mortem, like this reviewer might or might not have done, Anti Ritual‘s four experienced members all have deep roots in the Copenhagen hardcore scene. As Marco Malcorps, lead singer and lyricist pointed out in a recent interview, the quartet are so-named because “the acts of playing music and screaming out lyrics serve at times almost as a cathartic ritual – to get it all out, you know.” In fact, he’s quite clear here about the reasons for forming the band. “I worry about what kind of world we are leaving for our kids, and if we will leave any world at all.” Naturally, this mindset moulds their focus with Malcorps explaining their lyrics are “a harsh critique of mainstream society and the feeling of being in opposition to it.” Their aim, then, is to empower and arm the populace to give them “a way to cope with these feelings so as to not sink into total fucking apathy.”


What is clear is that no matter the topic (war, politics, social malaise or environmentalism), this latest slice of barbaric D-beat angst is an awesome exercise in the art of battery. Recorded and produced by the band themselves, mixed by Jakob Reichert Nielsen (Rising, Lack) and mastered by Brad Boatright (Nails, Sleep, From Ashes Rise), the six tracks on this self-titled EP hit with the force of a battering ram. With a mere 16-minute running time it really is a case of get in, make your point and get the fuck out. The combination of a primal throat-ripping vocal, splattering riffage and a thunderous stampede of skins certainly form a powerful alliance.

From the off the band’s blackened lungs hack-up waves of sludge and thunder as they deliver, short sharp blows to your ears. Opener “Ideals To The Fire” grumbles and growls like a pissed-off, chained-up rottweiler faced with a tormenting postman. “Slave Dogmatics” ups the ante, escaping the obliterating one-dimensional dirge to marry Black Breath‘s incisive menace to High On Fire‘s wild stringwork. Through speeding, dissonant chugs and howling chord sweeps Jacob Krogholt carves us out a new level of fury. The true mindbender here is “No Second Earth”. The message here is clear – without change humanity’s self-destruction awaits. “And here we are… in total disregard“, wails Malcorps. K.B. Larsen’s snarling bass frequently pitches its way to the surface and the intensive crush of Nikolaj Borg’s panicking kick-drum releases into half-time to create space within the track. The effect is mesmerising.

Blistering on through the swarthy, bludgeoning efforts of ‘The Highest Privilege’ and ‘Blame The Victim’, the former replete with a cyclical, echoing passage of cantankerous doom-mongering, we reach a vital, impressive kink in this EP’s evolution. Through a squall of feedback comes the elephantine pacing and vitriolic refrains of a ‘A New Discourse On Enlightenment.’ Through the breaks and chugging patterns, Malcorps simmers like a pre-menstrual Jamey Jasta on morphine. With bulging veins he delivers one final crawling message riddled with malevolent spite that caterwauls its way to an inevitable oblivion.

Aimed at those with dark souls, those malevolent extremists seeking a new level of violence, Anti Ritual certainly crams in a lifetime of pain into an infuriatingly short running time. You may emerge bloodied and bruised by the experience, but you will believe that this Danish foursome’s point is undeniably valid.

Also online @ Heavy Blog Is Heavy = http://www.heavyblogisheavy.com/2014/05/05/anti-ritual-anti-ritual/

Album Review: Drawers – Drawers

Toulouse’s Drawers started life as a half-hearted side project but that all changed quickly when they started making a real, valid impact. The possibilities that lay in fully realising their latent potential was very rapidly grabbed with all ten of their mitts.

As a result, they have promised to play anywhere, anytime and this self-titled sophomore comes hot on the heels of 2012′s suffocating, explosive debut. All Is One was an album that Ave Noctum described as “smothering” “grumbling” and even “spasming”, so their subtle shift into performing distortion-bothering groove metal is slightly surprising. Don’t fret though, they’re still flinging sludge at each other but now they’re hitting their listeners with it. You could say they are less scattergun by design.

By recording live the band have retained a rough quality to their sound that sets them apart from over-tweaked groove bands like say Devildriver or Chimaira. With the distortion wound up on the guitars to CRUSH setting, any melody does tend to get trampled down a bit but listen carefully and you will catch snatches of it. The vocal also has to go big to rise above the rumble but Niko Bastide’s gravel-gargling throat is well up to the task, fending off the gruff, sludge-packing strings as he goes. The end result of all this bickering really doesn’t leave much room for maneuvre so the songwriting has to be tight.

Strong hits of High On Fire-esque apoplectic stoner burst through early on with tracks like “Once And For All” and the monotonous “It’s All About Love” powering through the simplistic riff construction as the band attempt to break eardrums. There’s little slacking off, but the threads and shreds of early-era Baroness begin to sneak through as progression is made. The swaggering “Bleak” and “Take Stock” are fine examples of this, even if you’ll still find yourself craving another emotion besides anger.

The following “Shadow Dancers” sees the band opening out even further and allowing the listener to sink deeper into the groove as a little more light is let in. It’s a trick that they picked up from their debut and, in both cases, I’ve wanted to flip the tracklisting on its head or scream at them to stick with this pattern for longer – curse the songwriter(s) who stopped scribbling after half an hour. No matter. By “Words” they’ve absolutely nailed the balance and the deep throbbing attack and intense focus is menacing, yet beguiling, and utterly headbang-worthy.

Greater attack does mean far less exploration or diversity and that is a shame. However, on the plus side, their straight-up homage to NOLA-dwelling stoner has all but gone so this definitely feels more like a Drawers album than their debut ever did. It’s short and sweet (too short), but they certainly sound like they’re having fun even though they clearly mean business. To this end, I think we can ignore those gurning faces on the cover and revel in the knowledge that these Frenchmen are now headed in the right direction.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2014/04/drawers-drawers-kaotoxin/

Feature: Johnskibeat's Best 20 Albums Of 2013

2013 has seen large growths in the, quite frankly, already sweaty regions of punk n’ roll, progressive metal and retro blues rock. Naturally, this has made me a very jolly fellow. You might be able to spot a few of the more impressive additions in my all-singing, all-dancing end of year list. Happy xmas to one and all!

20. Iron Tongue – The Dogs Have Barked, The Birds Have Flown

Iron Tongue roughly feed their country affectations and hefty, blues-tinged rock through the chomping maw of old school doom metal to inspire Steve Von Till to comment that The Dogs Have Barked has… “a power and an edge and soul that rarely exists in music today”. [Review Here]

19. Gorguts – Colored Sands

Those 12 years of waiting between albums were worth it. The vast leaps made in production quality mean Gorguts have given us the gift of a powerful and precise shock to the system. Colored Sands is gritty, powerful and effortlessly precise and with songs like the epic title-track tearing us asunder it really is harem-scarem technical death metal of the finest quality. [Review Here]

18. Karnivool – Asymmetry

The essence of their post-rock forbears has always weighed heavy on Karnivool‘s work and, unsurprisingly, their third long-player Asymmetry shows all the same hallmarks. Song by song they draw upon the karmic power of giants like Tool, Deftones and The Mars Volta to grant us the opportunity to gaze upon yet another stunning, colour-streaked soundscape. [Review Here]

17. Motörhead – Aftershock

This album is proof that Motörhead are adapting beautifully to old age. It’s a little flabbier and it has a few more wrinkles, but this still comes with plenty of snarl amidst the laconic blues and gravelly rock n’ roll. Aftershock may not have come from the same dark hole that spawned Overkill or Bastards but it’s right up there with them. [Review Here]

16. Extol – Extol

Construction meets deconstruction as Extol lay waste to our perceptions of what is sonically possible. By turns, scrawling, visceral and beautiful, this magnificent spot of post-everything allows us a glimpse of the endless possibilities when boundaries are shattered beyond repair. [Review Here]

15. The Dillinger Escape Plan – One Of Us Is The Killer

Antagonistic short spurts of bloody hate, this contextually profound lump of chaos is DEP at their most vindictive. Just beware those misleading pop hits – those are there to tempt in the suckers amongst us. How mean. [Review Here]

14. Cult Of Luna – Vertikal

Patience is the key. The stylized emotional flow throughout is spasmodic, yet thought-provoking and utterly engaging. Beware, because when these beasts get their gnarly on, Vertikal‘s neanderthal sludge can become the monster of your nightmares. [Review Here]

13. Deafheaven – Sunbather

The ultimate sonic lightning bolt out of blue, Sunbather smears the visceral guts of black metal onto the blank canvas that is shoegaze. For an hour, they effortlessly fuse their songs together to do nothing less than break our hearts in two. [Review Here]

12. Funeral For A Friend – Conduit

Trimming a little off the sides and adding plenty of honest and committed metalcore power to the melting pot, FFAF give us yet another welcome stepping stone on their path back to glory. [Review Here]

11. Hatebreed – The Divinity Of Purpose

A stunning assertion of dominance designed to incite total mayhem, this hardcore behemoth provides sheer brute force to beat down the doubters. Predictable? Maybe. Empowering? Oh my god, yes. [Review Here]

10. Spirits Of The Dead – Rumours Of A Presence

It was inevitable that after producing such a brilliant debut, SOTD would become one of the finest of the current crop of retro bands. Rumours Of A Presence rams that thought home by worshipping at the twin altars of doom and prog; reinventing their forbear’s artistic touches to fit a thoroughly modern template. [Review Here]

9. Clamfight – I Versus The Glacier

Not just a pretty name, Clamfight‘s latest is one hefty statement of intent. First they ram it home with absolute power. Next, they open it all out into strong, hook-laden tracks and then they take their collective foot off the accelerator. Impressive stuff. [Review Here]

8. Palms – Palms

This ambient-minded supergroup’s debut 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. [Review Here]

7. The Ocean – Pelagial

It is not by chance that you can sense the increasing depth, pressure and diminishing light as you progress through this album. What we have here is a conceptual masterpiece with genius to be found in both its shifting, beguiling, expansive post-metal wash and in those thick, dark brushstrokes that produce such thunder. Performed live, it has transformed The Ocean from an all-too-wieldy wall of screaming sound into an absolute tour-de-force of atmosphere. [Review Here]

6. Dark Buddha Rising – Dakhmandal

Mile-thick chants that sound like they come from the throats of a coven of hooded giants. Know that Dark Buddha Rising’s latest, no matter how gloriously trance-inducing it may seem, is pure evil and as such it should be restricted to small amounts and is definitely for personal consumption only. [Review Here]

5. Pelican – Forever Becoming

Rather than lament guitarist Laurent Schroeder-Lebec’s decision to move on, Pelican have come out fighting and their fresh, beefed-up approach has resulted in a conveyor belt of riffs and wave after wave of warming euphoria to bathe in. Acceptance and absolute absorption in the rhythmic drive is essential; achieve that and you’ll reveal an absolute tour-de-force. [Review Here]

4. Secrets Of The Sky – To Sail Black Waters

Secrets Of The Sky fearlessly dive into their subject matter of death with real abandon and without restriction. By doing so, they treat us to monstrous production and five forms of vocal attack. The combined force of this results in an atmospheric, doomy, subversively black, richly progressive and bollock-janglingly heavy debut that marks these Californians out as real forgotten heroes. [Review Here]

3. Steak Number Eight – The Hutch

Prepare for luminescent flourishes à la Torche, Isis-rich thundering and cherry-picked moments from the entire Baroness’ discography. Prepare for slack-jawed, clean vocals, thick, rotational riffs and dark melodious washes. Then, as malcontent is piled upon upon disillusionment and ‘core edges are sharpened, prepare to acknowledge The Hutch as nothing less than the organic masterpiece that it is. It is SN8′s “coming of age” album; a deal-maker. [Review Here]

2. The Safety Fire – Mouth Of Swords

Both soothing and vicious, Mouth Of Swords glows with a fluorescent vitality. The constantly burbling, rise-and-fall guitarwork, the crisp tone and accurate switch-up from ripped invective to soft melody is TSF at their finest. They have developed into a unique, inspirational force and the verve of this album has rightly set the benchmark, not just for them, but for much of their competition. [Review Here]

1. Man The Machetes – Idiokrati

Fast, bombastic, anthemic, groove-riddled and utterly addictive, Man the Machetes’ debut long-player Idiokrati is a behemoth of Norwegian punk n’ roll. From the fire and swagger of opener “Sluk Det Rått”, through the “Slagen” gang chants and short rhythmic pauses for breath to the joyful menace of “Hjemkomst”, these Norwegian’s prove themselves more incisive than Kvelertak and more explosive than Oslo Ess. Their album is the very definition of “grip it and rip it”. [Review Here]

Also online @ Heavy Blog Is Heavy = http://www.heavyblogisheavy.com/2013/12/16/farewell-2013-john-skibeats-top-20-of-2013/

Further musings on the soundtracks that rocked 2013 can be found here =  http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/12/albums-of-the-year-2013/

Album Review: Pelican – Forever Becoming

“In a chronically leaking boat, energy devoted to changing vessels is more productive than energy devoted to patching leaks” – Warren Buffett.

It’s certainly a nifty quote that seems to sum up how instrumental post-rockers Pelican have handled the loss of guitarist Laurent Schroeder-Lebec. Rather than lament his undoubted songwriting talent, they have decided to sink their teeth into a whole new sphere of attack and, aided by the faultless integration of Dallas Thomas and his love for the big, brassy riff, they have dragged their sound out of the doldrums and into the kind of powerful groove-mongering that ignited fellow Chicagoans Russian Circles‘ career.


Forever Becoming, Pelican’s fifth full-length, is an album full of surprises. It seems that, somewhere along the line, expectations of it pre-release had fallen and, judging by the flurry of mediocre reviews that have been rushed out so far, it has been sorely underestimated post-release. There’s no doubting that perceptions of the band will have changed in line with their new artistic direction, but considering the album has to be listened to as a whole to be fully appreciated and will probably perform most admirably in the live arena, it seems a bit too early to be nailing it to a cross.

Oddly, their previous efforts have all featured strongly in their recorded formats, but have never shaken souls when performed. The reason for this may be that each one’s lighter touches and deeper level of atmospheric layering can so often get lost in the sound-desk, the roof cavities or the ether. Combine that loss with their music’s expansive drift and their “heads down” approach to performance art and you can imagine the fleeting impression they make on the less ardent fan. That will all change now that Forever Becoming has dropped – its almighty bottom-end and relentless groove will snap necks and burst chests.

The tour-de-force, ‘Deny The Absolute’, is nothing less than a conveyor belt of riffs. One after another after another, the guitar patterns cycle and build, each welding itself to the track’s backbone – a combo of surprisingly uncomplicated drum thunder and an equally compelling bassline that grinds and fizzes throughout. Together this all creates a series of wall-to-wall grooves that will swallow everything in its path. ‘The Tundra’ sucks up a little piece of High On Fire‘s sludge-packing inferno and breathes back a bitter rancour that ditches itself into a swaggering rut that rumbles forth down a doom-ridden path into gritty feedback. ‘Immutable Dusk‘ flexes more stoner muscle pitching bass-loaded menace and winding aggression into a series of warmer tones that rapidly completes their reformation into a confident position of power.

What’s most impressive about all this is that they haven’t just sandblasted their former attack to achieve this razor-sharp edge. They have blended the new with everything that has made their albums so eloquent in the past, beefed up on the parts that needed bolstering, tightened their focus and produced an album that flows from track to track with a silken elegance. Gone are the zig-zag of emotions and the song-by-song paucity. No, you can simply lose yourself in the basal journey of Forever Becoming and emerge out the other side believing it to be one single thread. As an example, the eight-minute two-tiered multi-coloured wanderlust of ‘Thredony‘ clashes heads with ‘The Cliff’ which in turn touches base with the motivational bliss of ‘Vestiges‘ in such a way that you would hardly notice the dip between the threesome.

When they do back off, we get the album bookends. Polar opposites, opener ‘Terminal‘ offers a soft foray into the darkness, backed by a hefty heartbeat of falling tom strikes whilst the stunningly rich, glorious tapestry of closer ‘Perpetual Dawn’ provides wave after wave of warmth and euphoria to bathe in. They form the preface and appendix to the book that you simply can’t put down. Once you turn that page, absolute absorption in the rhythmic drive and mind-expanding layering is not an option. It’s the aural equivalent of having all your pleasure receptors firing off at once. They haven’t showed anything like this kind of combined dexterity, determined pacing and gut-deep fury before.

Enforced change can be such a difficult process, so the initial human reaction is to fear the unknown, to err on the side of caution. Pelican, however, have laughed in the face of such dithering and have grasped their opportunity with gusto, swapping their elegant sailing boat for a stonking great powerboat and, boy, ain’t it a beaut. With turbos like the one on this bad boy, they really are ready for lift off. Keep your eyes peeled for those end of year lists – judging by its sleek lines and almighty wake, Forever Becoming should feature strongly.

Also online @ Heavy Blog Is Heavy = http://www.heavyblogisheavy.com/2013/10/29/pelican-forever-becoming/

Album Review: The Safety Fire – Mouth Of Swords

Five years back when The Safety Fire first popped up with their debut EP, Sections, their take on progressive metal involved swathes of broken, discordant shouting and harsh instrumentation powered by a rumbling war machine of bass-loaded guitars and drums. As they have developed their style they have wound back the distortion and begun showing off a surprising lightness of touch and wicked sense of melody that is characterized by their evocative arpeggiated stringwork. Now with their new album, Mouth Of Swords, continuing this upward trend they have easily their most accessible work to date.

These gentle footsteps away from the heavier end have allowed vocalist Sean McWeeney to really shine. Once viewed as the weakest member of the group, frequently tested by the songwriting to deliver a range that was quite clearly beyond his ability, there is now a solid case to be made for him being their greatest asset. No longer is he to be found wanting by requests to scream without self-destructing; no more is he overstretched when asked to deliver a pin-point high note. Part of this may be down to the higher recording values which now bring a multi-layered, polished finish to all areas, but there can be no doubt that he is now simply just a much improved singer. His tone these days beguiles, fusing eloquently with the pulsing underscore to create an ultra-smooth finish.

One thing that hasn’t changed is his lyrics which are still mad, rambling pastiches of sentences. ‘Glass Crush’, for instance, offers up “We´re here to help you / To protect you from yourselves / Like a rambling priest / Fill the gaps with the myths”. It’s not all bonkers though – here, McWeeney does find time to write recognisable verses and choruses that demand repetition. Realistically, there’s not much to grab onto up top (though its hardly filler) but when you reach into the belly of the album there are songs that are mind-blowingly good. ‘Beware The Leopard (Jagwar)’ is a total beast of a track. Comparison with Between The Buried And Me‘s work had already been worthy of mentioning, but with Tommy Rodgers guesting here, the link is nailed down. By turns, soothing and vicious, the music glows with a fluorescent vitality and the interwoven dual vocal attack is the pounding heartbeat of the album.

Elsewhere, ‘Wise Hands’, being soft, dreamy and sensuously poppy, is hugely reminiscent of Twin Atlantic and Athlete. It is easily McWeeny’s finest hour. What’s most satisfying is that even though it slows the pace to a sway, at no point though does it threaten to weaken the momentum. If you‘re in any doubt, you’ll find the Gojira-esque bass-heavy powerplay, string slides and adjacent, atonal delivery of ‘The Ghosts That Wait For Spring’ a welcome bedfellow. With the apoplectic roar of ‘I Am Time, The Destroyer’ and the mesmeric bassline and falsetto hook of ‘Old Souls’ finishing things off, this UK quintet have produced a near faultless sequence of tracks.

Considering all these pros, what is Mouth Of Swords greatest achievement? Perhaps it is, in fact, that within seconds of spinning it, you’ll know the artist. The constantly burbling, rise-and-fall guitarwork, the crisp tone and accurate switch-up from ripped invective to soft melody can only be one band. That’s a desirable quality to have and, consequently, makes them pretty darn formidable. Although you’d never describe them as a finished article, they must be getting pretty close now. They have become a unique, inspirational force and the verve of Mouth Of Swords has rightly set the benchmark, not just for them, but for much of their competition.

This review also online @ Heavy Blog Is Heavy = http://www.heavyblogisheavy.com/2013/09/09/the-safety-fire-mouth-of-swords/

Festival Review: TechFest, near Peterborough, 13 July 2013

The Cambridgeshire Fens are certainly an interesting choice of venue for a festival. It’s not going to disturb the neighbours because there aren’t any, but it’s also nigh on impossible to get to other than by bike or car. This terminally flat countryside is captured best by the mighty band Fen whose name and music are influenced by the surroundings as they “draw the listener into a windswept landscape, bereft of hope”. And then there’s the brutal death grindcore scene in nearby Wisbech, epitomized by the delightful Beef Conspiracy whose seminal album “Hung, Drawn and Quarterpoundered” is the stuff of inspiration. But there are none of these esoteric offerings here this weekend. This is the place for progressive metal, metalcore and generally music with a technical and djenty slant, so if you thought that TechFest was some geek’s convention about computers, it’s probably best that you go back to your laptop and die prosaically.

With the boiling hot weather and the main and second stage situated next to each other for the purposes of continuity – as one set ended, another started in the tent next door – it all meant no respite for the spectators but endless metal on tap. This was typical of the excellent organization by promoter Simon, who rightly received accolades throughout the day from spectators and band members for the quality of organization and attention to detail at this friendly festival.

The first band to be hot and sweaty was Colours To Shame. The Glaswegians worked their way through unfamiliar climactic conditions and dished up the expected diet of technical prog djent. Constantly transforming, the changeovers were deliberately irregular but the control in the sections themselves was tight. The set ended well with “In Search of Sasquatch” which featured plenty of drama and passion to match all the technicality. The first victim of the weather was the drummer who blacked out for two minutes during the set, so credit to the band for getting through it. From what I heard here, Colours To Shame are a band worth investigating further. (AD)

I had looked forward to seeing Kartikeya from Russia as a fan of fellow Vedic metal band Rudra, with whom I learnt afterwards they have collaborated in the past. The look wasn’t Vedic metal – a distinctly Russian-looking drummer with a spoof McDo t-shirt, a hard case tom-tom player who had the air of a punk tattoo artist and a more conventional square-faced vocalist / guitar player. It transpired that there was no bass player, the vocalist was a stand-in, the tom-toms were inaudible and much reliance was placed on samples which, short of engaging an army of people, were necessary to generate the Eastern elements.

Kartikeya threw away all the obstacles and to the sounds of Indian restaurants and a mantra, the full forces of darkness were presented to us with “Sarva Mangalam”. An exotic energy flowed through the music. Deep and growly vocals and hypnotic drum runs led us into a series of exciting and dangerous patterns. Indian passages were never far away but, even with the carefully-controlled prog sections, the dominating factors were acrid power and crushing movement. I was as if we spectators had to be put in our place. The only bizarre aspect was the exaggerated gestures of the tom-tom player who reminded me of one of those backing artists who draw disproportionate attention to themselves in the Eurovision song contest. “Horrors of Home” was delivered with deliberate intent, each layer adding a further substructure and new sounds and imaginary smells. The clean vocal sections weren’t so convincing but when the vocalist screamed, he sounded like an angry god. The set ended with “Neverborn”. Finally the tom-toms became audible. The instrumental passages as ever were magical. Although there were too many vocal variations for me, Kartikeya’s performance was compelling and no-one was left in any doubt that they had brought war and dark atmospheres into our miserable lives. (AD)

One short hop next door took me from the world of Vedic warfare to the altogether cleaner progressive melodies of Shattered Skies from Ireland. It was evidently “no bassist” day today as Sean and his colleagues launched into “The End and the Rebirth” without one. Sean himself was looking more well-scrubbed than I remember – due perhaps to on-stage alcohol deprivation – but, superficial considerations apart, something wasn’t working. I wondered if it was the effect of going from the thundersome dark clouds of Kartikeya to this decidedly more commercial sound. The prog vocals didn’t harmonise with the steady rock-metal beat. Sean explained it: “I apologise for sounding completely flat”.

All was ok after that but what I witnessed overall was a softer and more polished performance than the 110% livewire energy I had seen before from the band. The ante was upped with “15 Minutes”; always an audience-friendly song mixing prog emotion and rhythmic punchiness. The crowd moved, and continued to do so when the band played a rocking version of the Pendulum track “Propane Nightmares” (thanks to Sean for identifying it to me afterwards). The rumbling and rolling flavour continued with “Saviours”. Again very commercial, it sounded a little tinny and lacked emotional depth, but did feature a splendid guitar solo. Sean’s cheeky smile at the end captured the audience-friendliness of this band. An overly long intro to “As The Sea Divides” created a mixed expectation of suspense and the concern that the set was going to finish with a whimper. In the end, it was both as the heavy framework built up the intensity while Sean struggled to pull at our heartstrings. Today it was a case of heatstrings. As always, this was an interesting performance from this talented prog metal band. (AD)

As the quartet of Red Seas Fire rolled onto the stage, the dry ice was pumped up another notch drowning the guitarist. The fact that he sported a beard as vast as something out of Norse mythology and a high-strapped guitar meant there was little left of him to spot. They quickly settled into a cajoling rhythm of Safety Fire-esque jack-hammering bass threaded with feisty chugs. On top of this backline, there was plenty of screams with some occasional quiet patches and cleans to allow for the builds back into more screaming. They did struggle to serve it all up with any real venom or intensity, but the stifling heat can’t have helped matters. Vocalist Robin Adams deep, scarred roars were excellent, but his singing was often a little over-emotional. Still, he had the frontman patter down a treat and was constantly pepping up his audience, all of which elicited a decent reaction from those pogoing in the centre. (JS)


I was drawn into the room like a magnetic attraction. A set had just started. Unbeknown to me until afterwards, Neosis had pulled out and had been replaced by Aeolist from Norwich on the second stage. This was a revelation. What I heard was utterly heavy but tightly controlled, riff-driven prog metal. 5 young men were in front of me. There were two guitarists, a bassist, drummer and a vocalist who showed the capability to rip our throats out. Their progress was smooth but the band was clearly not averse to going into multi-coloured technical passages. This was compelling and fun too. The bassist looked like he was practicing for a gurning competition. Such was the technicality that I too felt my mouth and eyebrows move. There was no widdling or wastage here. Mountainous passages swept through the room. The vocals were utterly hardcore and harsh amongst this progressive finery. But my goodness, it held together in perfect fusion.

“Raise your hands!” proposed hardcore man before he threw himself around the stage, whipping up anger and hysteria. This was just musical magnificence. A post-metal element emerged. A carefully executed dark, heavy and chunky musical display was being laid out before us. A little guitar-driven jazzy number introduced a fresh aspect. The drum beat featured funky mosaic-like patterns. The vocalist had his back to the audience, looking like he was throwing up in front of the drummer. The build-up of this un-named track was like the dawn rising. The sun came out – a dark one, mind – in all its glory. Hardcore man was now post-metal man. Instead of launching himself at us, he channeled his anguish and anger at us in an entirely emotional, gripping and powerful way. “Bang your fucking head”, he exhorted. This colourful explosion made me think of another UK band – Heights. Aeolist exhibited perfect musical and vocal harmony. The musicianship was exquisite in a progressive, post-metal and hardcore way. Sections could be moving, and even a little jazzy. The music came from the ether but also suggested a story of life and its realities. The drums tapped like the sound of impending battle. The set ended with one final progressive hardcore blast. There was such subtlety. I had witnessed a performance packed with intelligence and creativity. Aeolist came, conquered and disappeared into the night. I’m glad they came and would very much like to see them again. (AD)

A portly, geeky-looking type from the USA appeared on stage. It was time for Drewsif Stalin. After a bit of banter about poo and “glam flow”, Mr Stalin, as we shall call him, started and stopped. “Look at the person next to you. Would you be prepared to go to war with that person?” The person next to me was my eldest son. I’m not sure what the point of the question was as Mr Stalin fired off a monster riff … and stopped. “This one’s dedicated to those who say “that’s not metal””, he announced. “Deadly Serious” was a large, meaty chunk of irregular, hard and screwed-up metal. Great chorus: “de-de-de-de-de-de-de-de-de-de”. Taking the mickey maybe, but it was a laugh and the crowd loved it. Actually, what followed was some serious, deep and intensive heavy metal. Heads swung. The set went downhill when the lead vocalist from Red Seas Fire joined in for a couple of tracks. It wasn’t that fantastic to begin with but it had entertainment value. Now it got more progressive and serious. It also became anonymous. There was an attempt to restore the energy. The drummer told some jokes which no-one got. Mr Stalin’s wild eyes and his gestures outdid the music which was as heavy as hell but not overwhelming. Even then he didn’t win my unofficial “Facial Contortions” contest, which went to the bassist from Aeolist. At least Mr Stalin and friends didn’t play their One Direction cover song. (AD)

It looked like it was fancy dress time but no-one told us. The guitarist of Serbian pop-metallers Destiny Potato, who had swapped days to be here today, was wearing a crumpled old-fashioned Victorian-style top hat. Why? Do they have Dr Who in Serbia? Still more enigmatically, he stuck a potato in his mouth. I suppose the music had a ghostly flavour to it. I liked the music which had a progressive djent slant of course but interestingly it had Eastern rhythms running through it and even featured techno-pop. The petite female vocalist, Aleksandra Djelmas, looked about 15 but, more importantly, had a great, effortless voice which was well supported by the instrumental department. There was a good balance. Passages were smooth. The songs, especially in the vocals, had a child-like and eccentric quality but always returned to prog metal and solid ground. The singer seemed a little nervous spending her time apparently looking down at the lyrics in front of her. All of this belied her commanding performance. The range was good. Sometimes there was emotion, sometimes the singer belted out her words, sometimes it was very pop-orientated and then in the middle of it she would demonstrate an impressive set of lungs with awesome screams.


The band played nicely with all this and the music moved and grooved as their rock delivery, mixed with occasional rapping, expanded into heaviness and catchy choruses. But although this band didn’t smile very much, there was a fun element about it. I could liken this to In This Moment or Tristania even, but the mix here was special. Amid the depth of Meshuggah, Aleksandre moved across the stage mysteriously, reflecting the Eastern side of it. Thunderous progressions and big screams were countered by hypnotic and impressive rhythms. I know that Destiny Potato were not everyone’s cup of tea and were a bit pop-orientated for some, but I thought they were very interesting and I enjoyed what I heard and saw. (AD)

Disperse plunged straight into their set without ado. Their style of deep and chunky progressive metal recalled their fellow Polish progsters Riverside. Unfortunately the ambience wasn’t as intensive or mesmerising as that of Riverside. The keyboards were under-utilised and the vocalist struggled in the higher ranges. Was this an expression of vulnerability or just a case of a vocalist operating outside of his limits? This spoiled the “ambidjent” feel which accompanied the traditional prog fare which was on offer. Instrumentally it was another matter. The guitarist saved the day time after time with his dexterity and imagination. It was all a bit self-indulgent as Disperse just seemed to be going through a set of motions. The last song “Message From Atlantis” proved to be one last chance for the guitarist, who was the star of this performance, to thrill us with another spectacular solo. (AD)

As the second stage closed shop for the night, it really felt like we’d reached a turning point. As the fans had travelled from across Europe and, no doubt, beyond to be stood in this small field near Peterborough, these next three bands had journeyed hundreds of miles to play to them. The crowd swelled and excitement began to peak.  – they were all in now. First up, from France, Matthieu Romarin and his five chums from Uneven Structure. The setlist comprised the whole of the recently released EP “8” followed by a selection from their debut album, “Februus”. Displaying typical Gallic flair the band oozed enormity and breadth. “8”, as expected, proved darker and more complex with the bass sticking the bottom-end; defining the sound with a driven depth. With the three guitars interweaving over the top and the drummer pumping his legs it proved to be a truly powerful experience.

As emotion began to rule the performance, either raging or drifting, an electrifying sound began to ran through the background like a constant charge. It was “Februus”, a work defined by its backing soundtrack; the music contantly returning, often mid-song, to a singluar, specific tone. Here too was where much of the metalcore action lay, the parts where the charismatic Matthieu simply shined. The beats were flying as were the dreads of guitarist Aurélien Perreira. The music shifted and began to tell a developing story. As it did, so did Matthieu, moved seamlessly between plaintive cleans and fearsome growls; laying bare his impressive range. He became our guide, occasionally moving forward to touch the crowd while the operators of the giant switchgear continued their work behind him. As they hit their groove, the necksnapping crowd reaction was insane. One passage melted in the next. This was a gripping story. It was one not be missed. Impec, mes amis! (AD/JS)

Follow that Skyharbor. Having travelled all the way from India, and having spent £400+ solely on taxi fares, there was no chance that this lot weren’t going to hit the ground running. Their bass-driven angst and contrasting tones proved to be just the ticket on a sultry evening such as this. The whole project masterminded by guitarist/composer Keshav Dhar had been making waves ever since they brought ex-TesseracT UK vocalist Dan Tompkins on board and there were plenty of smiles in the crowd when that particular face stormed onto stage. He has proved to be the final piece Keshav needed to complete his wonderful puzzle and a UK show without him would have been exasperating. Sporting a dapper button-down waistcoat he set about blowing us away. The sound-desk finally got one right here as his vocal range vibrated when he hit his top-end, sending shivers down spines, and his deep booms hit you straight in the chest like a punch. His style of long notes coupled with his melodic tones, at times, were simply beautiful and, often, strangely effeminate. Alongside him, the stringwork of Keshav and Devesh Dayal covered both elegance and scathing power as they flicked between threaded, cascading riffs and tight, angry shreds. Nikhil Rufus, lightning strap and all, hit his funk button when he wasn’t thundering away, snapping his neck off with jerking thrusts.

With the moody backing track setting up the songs, we were soon being treated to the scathing “Catharsis”, then the floaty, super-emotional “Night”. Soon Dan was cautiously announcing the band’s tight time slot – “Time is so precious, so thankyou. Here’s Aurora”. Then, with a flourish and a run through the photo-pit for our frontman, we were onto the finishing straight with “Celestial” – their “song about freedom”. It hit to huge roars and featured an impressive fan singalong for each chorus. With the award-winning “Meava” to finish, during which Dan ended up wigging out, face-to-face with his fans, the band hit a euphoric peak even we didn’t think they could reach. Considering how little practice time together they must have had pre-show it had been an unqualified success. And the best news? The new album they’re working on is “insanely good” – and that’s from the mouth of the mastermind himself. (JS)

The massive hour-long wait for Chicago’s Veil Of Maya (huge in the US, about to be huge in the UK) was explained away once they hit the stage by the long-haired frontman Brandon Butler – “Our bassist nearly missed the show”. All eyes flicked right and there he stood, pretty-boy image, and my first thought was “too much time spent in the mirror?”. No matter. This quartet soon made up for lost time tossing out a series of battered, scathing vocals like they were going out of fashion. Their main selling point was immediately apparent – the unstoppable force of their unique, ceaseless, polyrhythmic underscore. Badda-bad-badda-badda, badda-bad-badda-ba-ba-bad-badda-badda…

Essentially, what they boiled down to was a ridiculously effective line in tight tech with strong death elements. Everything that had gone before was simply blown away by their lack of emotional complexity. This was just pure vitriol combined with devastating rhythmic intensity. The recorded underscore only popped up to briefly link between the songs. All our other senses were directed towards Brandon; focussing on his caged animal stage-pacing and his urgent demands for more crowd action. Eventually his audience conceded and the first circle-pit of the night opened up. Before long we were all slicked in sweat, the tent walls dripped and the air became unbearably clammy. Brandon became more yeti than man, as his hair began to stick to his face and body. He responded by sticking his tongue out and allowing a dastardly smirk to cross his lips – “I love you guys”. A bottle of whisky was passed around the band and then onwards backstage, presumably for the crew to begin the party. Quick as a flash, the cascading lead of “It’s Not Safe To Swim Today” indicated the final song and in response the pit doubled and the crowd went batshit crazy. Oh yes, Veil Of Maya proved to be the perfect band to finish the night. (JS)

We simply can’t remember having more fun in a field. Room for another 3-500 bodies maybe, but it did make for a roomier and more relaxing atmosphere. With security operating a hands-off approach and bands operating a hands-on approach (whole days spent intermingling with fans), it proved to be a set-up that could have withstood rain, hail, fire and brimstone and still gone ahead as planned. It all made for a large helping of excitement with lashes of freedom and plenty of cool beer on tap. I believe the word de rigueur is “epic”. Roll on TechFest 2014!

Words: Andrew Doherty + John Skibeat
Photos: John Skibeat

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/07/techfest-peterborough-13th-july-2013/

Album Review: Phantom Glue – A War Of Light Cones

Kurt Ballou gets around. When he’s not blazing a trail with Converge, he’s hunkered down in his own studio at God City, working the sound-desk for various noise-making machines who’ve all requested his producing expertise. This is where he could be found during the months of April and August 2011, twiddling the knobs for Boston, MA’s Phantom Glue. The result of those sessions has taken two whole years to see the light of day, but now Black Market Activities have stepped in to save A War Of Light Cones from staying buried from view.


Phantom Glue are a band who, very much like the now defunct These Arms Are Snakes, sound like two different forces welded together. One half is pure punk — all fast snarling bile and sharp bites of anguish. The other is a heavy-lidded twin guitar stoner — all loping chugs with evocative, interlocking riffery laid over the top. On top of this, there is something darker tucked away in the music and lyrics. It’s interesting to note then, that vocalist/guitarist Matt Oakes describes this edgy album as “a nightmare/occult alternate history of Colonial America”. Here, there is very much the sense of a band wanting to have their cake and eat it.

When they are not battering you with violent crushers like the fiery opener ‘Perils’ or the ear-damaging, High On Fire-esque rip ‘Bow In The Dust’, they are seeking out an effervescent top-end to stir things up. This latter styling brings them more into line with the kind of thrilling post-rock-cum-sludge material that Steak Number Eight and Mastodon are keen on putting out there. ‘Biocult’, for instance, spends less time bawling at you and languishes longer in the musical combination of bubbling top-end bass and deep, sludge-flinging stringwork. When it does shift, it is into a dynamic, cleaner phase that does feel a little tacked on. One track that follows this and the more-driven ‘Arboreal‘ to a fine conclusion is ‘Test Pattern’. It’s a song which wastes no time digging out a sloth-like groove onto which is built a network of memorable riffs. In these lighter places, they seem happiest; free enough to throw in clean-heeled arpeggios and solos to their hearts content.

Having been left rotting on the backburner for all this time, you’d imagine the band to be a bit more generous, but they still only seem willing to stretch themselves to 6 tracks and 28 minutes. That’s a pretty paltry return when parts of what is here simply passes you by. It’s also true that, in those two years they have spent trying to secure that label release, various riff-loving scaremongers have stepped forward with fine albums – bands like Black Cobra, Burning Love and High On Fire (all Ballou’s other projects) and others like Steak Number Eight, Saviours and Family (US, not UK). The void that was there, following These Arms Are Snakes (and, to an extent, Isis‘) sad demise, has now well and truly been filled. Now, it all feels a little crowded in this space and Phantom Glue’s somewhat muddled second album is going to struggle for air amongst some of those monster releases.

Also online @ Heavy Blog Is Heavy = http://www.heavyblogisheavy.com/2013/07/16/phantom-glue-a-war-of-light-cones/#more-42189

Album Review: High On Fire – Spitting Fire Live, Vols. 1 + 2

As a band that relies on their music might alone, Oakland, CA’s own force of nature, High On Fire, have to be one of the most entertaining live trios out there. There’s no gimmicky crowd interaction, fancy lighting rigs or schmaltzy backdrops with this lot; it’s just a blizzard of hissing, crushing metal; a sonic typhoon that hits with enough force to flatten any and all sizes of crowd. If you haven’t been lucky to feel that cacophonous wall-of-sound yet, then the aptly named Spitting Fire Live is your chance to stand up, grab hold of your vitals and feel its impact.

Recorded over two nights it contains concert performances from their New York City and Brooklyn shows at the end of last year. There are 15 tracks to delve into, a solid mixture with all albums featuring, and it would be petty to lament the omission of stonking fan-favourites like “Silver Back”, the title-track from Death Is This Communion or “Bastard Samurai”. What you do get is four songs from last year’s De Vermis Mysteriis, three of them littering Volume 1, and three consecutive songs from 2007′s Death Is This Communion opening Volume 2. This leaves enough room for the big-hitters, “Frost Hammer” and the title-track, from 2010′s Snakes For The Divine to do the most damage.

One thing to consider, as with many live recordings, is the sound quality. Here, Kurt Ballou and Greg Wilkinson have done their best, but it is still a little too distorted with the vocal hollow and the strings muffled. To some degree, of course, this suits the band’s style and it is consistent, with a nice balance presented across the two sets. Where applicable, the cotton-wool crowd noise has been clipped and kept to a minimum which, considering the shortage of stage interaction, presents a bit of a problem, leaving you struggling at times to feel a part of the show. On the plus side, High On Fire’s notorious full-bodied wallop comes across with enough dynamic range for each part – bass, drums, vocals and Matt Pike’s almighty custom 9-string Lola – to be heard as separate components.

Our frontman, unsurprisingly, utters little beyond the odd song introduction (we do get an incendiary “Let’s whip things up here” and an appreciative but seemingly rhetorical “Alright, New York? It’s good to be out here!”), so instead we just get a barrel of feedback and a whole world of pain. With little distractions, you will simply glory in the pounding throb and vocal squall (perfect mosh material) of “Frost Hammer”, the hammering kick pedal and gritty churn of the punked-up “Devilution” and the glorious tumbling triplet that powers the noise-maker “Fury Whip”. In between these speeding goliaths of sludge metal there’s the stoner comedown; the neck-snapping swagger of “10,000 Nights” and “DII” – both tracks where Jeff Matz’ twanged bass comes to the fore like bubbles of oxygen in the vast lakes of mud-slicked distortion.

The mesmeric duo, “Madness Of An Architect” and “Face Of Oblivion”, played one after the other, present the blitzed-out brain of High On Fire. The howling, cosmic chug that will get your synapses snapping like trapped wasps in a jar. Naturally, in Pike, they have the perfect frontman to drag you back to Earth and his stunning guitar solos (particularly his incredible part-mnemonic, part-vibrato effort that lurks in “Fertile Green”) and his enigmatic riff that powers the band’s finishing flourish, “Snakes For The Divine”, demand your full attention.

All told, the sound quality, though bearable, may put you off. Ardent fans of the band will still lap this up; others may want to tune in first. Either way, the music is as badass as ever – seriously scary, force of nature stuff. Earthquake, volcano, tornado, tsunami, High On Fire, quicksand. I believe that’s the order.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/07/high-on-fire-spitting-fire-live-century-media/

News: Anciients & Buzzard King

The joys of traipsing through BandCamp has revealed two total stunners this week in the form of Canada's Anciients and Cambridge, England's Buzzard King.

Anciients, set to release their debut album on April 12th (April 16th in North America), are described as "somewhere between sheer, apocalyptic heaviness and precise riffing — a Vancouver-based rock juggernaut forging crushing heavy metal evocative of veterans High on Fire and contemporary sonic craftsmen Opeth, Anciients have combined fuck-off-huge chords with mind-altering riffage that takes you on an unfamiliar trip."

They've stuck up a trio of tracks from their forthcoming Heart Of Oak album on their BandCamp page here - http://anciientriffs.bandcamp.com/album/heart-of-oak - I think you'll find "Faith And Oath" to be an absolute jaw-dropper.

Fans of  "bourbon-soaked heavy rock noir", as the band describes themselves, need to head over to Buzzard King's BandCamp page - http://buzzardking.bandcamp.com/ - and pay close attention to the tracks "Diesel And Danger" for it's stone-cold groove, sweet riffage and blues-streaked vocal and "Tumbling Spires" for it's howling drive and memorable barbs of each verse and the effortless roll as it takes you through their full range of gears. Think Clutch meets Rival Sons via The Doors and Graveyard.

As an interesting aside, Rival Sons are playing Cambridge soon and I haven't a clue why this lot aren't on the bill. The campaign starts here, folks...

Album Review: Hummune – Crafted In Darkness

Formed in 2009, Southampton’s Hummune, a conglomerate force made up of former members of the bands Older Than Dirt, Kill-Joy, Dissentient Revolt and Parade Of Enemies, have just released their debut long-player, Crafted In Darkness, and it sounds like it could be a bit of a beast.

They, personally, cite Unsane as an influence and that most definitely comes across in the grumbling backline and unhinged, roaring vocal, but considering the degree of vocal intensity in the combined howling of Stu Woodward and bassist Mike Barrow and just how deliberate the punches are, the band could also, just as easily, be citing influences such as the powerful, depth-plunging mania of High On Fire or the pounding assault that Kylesa dish out.

Being a debut album, understandably the recording cuts up a little rough around the edges. One thing that does stick out from the end result, and I’m sure this was intentional, is Rik Godfrey’s resonant snare strikes and cymbal hits which sound, at times, vague, distant and freakishly hollow. Whilst you wouldn’t think this ideal next to the ascerbic guitar thrum and scowling vocal, it does engender the package with a curiously tribal feel. This could be a little bit special, this.

“Moth” opens up with a brutish, jinking hook to latch onto as Hummune immediately sink their teeth in deep. Not overly complex, it’s a perfect set-up for the journey through the murkier waters of “Into Dust” and the scrabbling, experimentation that breaks “Claw” into mere spoken word and echoing string strikes. Naturally, the pace-change back into neck-busting chug that “Rise” and the heavy-lidded “Driven To Husk” bring, followed by the call-and-response fist-thrower “Bullets”, forms the triple-play spinal column around which this whole demon has been built.

From here, the album falls away a little with those tribal drums steaming to the fore to sweep all of the plaudits alone. Woodward’s Lemmy-esque growl comes to the fore for “Puzzle” and the power of “Crush My Heart” mires the music deep into sludge metal territory, the guitar grasping fistfuls of grunge to pull at the same oppressive edge that the dirtier end of Bleach-era Nirvana dished out. As the finale rolls around with the 8-minute “Era”, the dancing drums reach an Ozric Tentacles-esque intensity and the lysergic tribalism reaches its zenith.

Emerging from the grip of Crafted In Darkness with a slurp, you’ll half expect to have pulled some of it’s hideous slime along with you. This thing is smeared with evil; it leers at you; reaches out to grasp your leg as you pass; lose focus and it’ll drag you into its dank pit. It’s the hideous troll of your nightmares. Its vile imperfections merely make it stronger, uglier, more dangerous. And, best of all, you just know Hummune, its creator, have harder, sharper, deadlier creatures just dying to be released.

Also online @ Ave Noctum  =  http://www.avenoctum.com/2012/08/hummune-crafted-in-darkness/

Album Review: Purified In Blood – Flight Of A Dying Sun

It was I that hailed Under Black Skies, Purified In Blood’s sophomore album, as 2010′s best, calling it “crepuscular, bellicose, demented, swaggering, invasive” but, ultimately, “consummate”. In my mind, it blew away the competition that year, and I’ll stand by that opinion today. So, two years, down the line, one vocalist down and with a fervent desire to return to the raw potency of their Reaper Of Souls debut, have the band managed to retain the black magic that still gets me so hot under the collar?

Well, they’ve attempted to get around the loss of Glenn “Reaper” Rasmussen (who does make a brief showing for the track “Iron Hands”) by cramming in a few guest spots. Drummer Anders Mosness uses his Kvelertak connections to convince their frontman Erlend Hjelvik to rip into “Mot Grav” and Siberian throat singer Albert Kuvezin lends his extraordinary, never-ending rumble to the introductory “The Absolute”. Otherwise, it’s all down to Hallgeir Enoksen who, to be fair, has an absolute beast of a vocal that more than stands up to scrutiny. More than anything it’s this man’s nail-gargling roar that so endeared to me to the band in the first place.

“Storm Of Blood” is ripped with it, Enoksen digging out fury to go with the sort of drum battery and rotational guitar grot you’d associate more with the hammer and anvil stoner attack of High On Fire or the crust-covered ‘core of Black Breath. When the crush returns for “Mind Is Fire” (the thrash attack and vocal patterning on the chorus oddly reminiscent of Sylosis’ “Reflections Through Fire”) it’s even more powerful. Even that though is not the heaviest thing on the album. That honour goes to the galloping, blocky crush at the four-minute mark of the title-track; check it… it’s an utter mind-bender.

One reason for this increase in brutish weight requires a glance at the men responsible for twiddling the knobs. There’s few safer pairs of hands than those of Jacob Bredahl and Tue Madsen and they certainly haven’t impeded any of the thunderous intensity that the band have managed to knock out here. When they dial it down a notch and inject some driven groove they manage to produce the album highlights. Tracks like the throbbing neck-snappers of “Void” and “Iron Hands” come closest to matching the addictive peaks that Under Black Skies reached. Hjelvik brings along his black n’ roll spikes, and with “Mot Grav”s added thrash licks, the band dig out a real powerhouse.

Other than those rutted monsters though, the band are found to be rather wanting. At times, it is Ådne Sæverud’s frantically whining Hammond organ or Sander Loen’s wild, disconnected solos that are to blame as they succeed in derailing PiB’s chug-worthy building blocks; at other times it is the speed and noise-worshipping, a desperate search to raise the raw and inject the heavy, that has negated the neck-snapping cool of their sweetest rides. Although they manage to fish out several interesting minor chords, some swathed entirely in black, for long periods they seem to entirely forgo their fondness for structural build and plaster over any potential breaks in sound, ditching the chance for barbed hooks or sharp licks, to create yet more bulging angst and all-encompassing heavy. Worst of all, with only eight tracks to play with and running times trimmed, we get fewer changes of direction and a stingy 35-minute total.

Despite these flaws though, I simply can do nothing other than stringently insist that you try this on for size. Okay, it’s not the game-changing album of the year that their 2010 effort so obviously was, but it’s still got big, bushy chops on it and enough shades of black to make it worthy of your undivided attention. It will certainly be interesting to see how much of an impact they make on the scene this time and, more importantly, in which direction they will head with their next release.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2012/06/purified-in-blood-flight-of-a-dying-sun-indie-recordings/

Album Review: The Safety Fire – Grind The Ocean

Formed in 2006, The Safety Fire, like fellow UK-based TesseracT did, have taken their sweet-assed time to getting around to releasing their delayed debut album. You know what they say though – “if it ain’t delayed, it ain’t djent”. It’s certainly unfortunate that Grind The Ocean arrives, just as the dial on the ‘djent-o-meter’ has ventured into the red ‘Saturation’ zone, but luckily these Cockneys aren’t just polyrhythmic heft and no trousers and have some neat tricks up their collective sleeve to warrant anyone’s attention.

They open with the crushing caterwauling of “Huge Hammers”. With the video having been plastered over numerous websites, there are many who will be familiar with the track’s madly scribbling arpeggios. They smother the listener, climbing up and down the walls as a boxed-in Sean McWeeney bellows himself hoarse to offer a counterpoint to snatches of vocal harmony; these babies are the delicious goo in that savagely hot pop-tart you were burning your lips off on earlier. Jarring lyrics like “Black beak, weapon to pierce, delirium scribbles” and “Piece of flesh in my eye, what’s not mine doesn’t hurt” had me hooked and the sharp mix working in tandem with their hardcore edginess is a factor that will help the band stand out from their rivals.

The Mureau meets Circles double-action of “Floods Of Colour” offers up the chance to properly compare McWeeney’s tirades and serenades. The former, with their lack of tonal variation and damaged, grating quality, sometimes find McWeeney over-reaching, at the edge of his range, whilst the latter are prettily effective and delivered with panache. For those who’ve followed the band since the release of their Sections EP it’s a shock to hear him sounding so polished. In the negative column, electronically-tweaked spot-welds on those cleans mean the vocal harmonies occasionally flirt dangerously close to sounding auto-tuned.

Two offerings from the EP pop up here in the form of the solo-trimmed (yet still writhing) “Sections”, with Martin Goulding (Linear Sphere) and Pin (SikTh, Aliases) guesting, and “DMB” which gets a face transplant, even though (from what I can tell) it’s musically identical, to become “DMB (FDP)”. The band insist DMB “doesn’t really mean much” but FDP “means a lot”. The latter acronym could stand for anything from Flat Display Panel to Flood Damage Prevention but, speculating wildly, I’m going to plump for “filho da puta” which is Portuguese for “son of a bitch”. It’s certainly still got the kind of smack in the face that might prompt such an utterance.

There are moments where the band drift fully into post-rock mode, initially hooking you in, but ultimately these tracks seem to lose their way. “Anomalous Materials”, for instance, drifts through the ether like a lost soul whilst the circling riff of “Seagraves” is but a half-thought. The band also seem to have a bad habit of getting trigger-happy when it comes to flicking switches, tying themselves in knots attempting to cram both action and relaxation into one space. Witness the challengingly-muddled “Animal King”. Strong and familiar at its opening, the track minces itself into a lather with plain old bad songwriting. It’s the musical equivalent of a dropped dinner, as the hard-edged, mathy spasming of your main course leaks into the softly-padding ambience of your dessert.

It’s odd having had only their grim-faced EP to listen to for so long so it’s yet another surprise to find both the sumptuously light “Circassian Beauties” and craftily airy title-track are where The Safety Fire sound most comfortable. Having nicked back the pace without compromising their music’s honest approach, McSweeney, who at no point pushes too hard, masterfully croons his way through the verses, punches in with the mega-catchy riffs, owns the choruses and then easily struts back and forth as the guitars, bass and drums jink their way through complex sequences of technically-astute attack and release.

End of the day, this doesn’t really feel like djent at all. You could argue, with their combination of hardcore and progressive soundscaping, they don’t even qualify for the confines of the genre at all. The last bombshell is to discover that Grind The Ocean, as innovative as it may be, is stuffed full of promise yet, ultimately, ends up falling short in so many areas. However, with so much of their unique personality being stamped on their music like this, The Safety Fire are still most certainly a band to keep a close eye on for the future.

Also online @ The NewReview = http://thenewreview.net/reviews/the-safety-fire-grind-the-ocean

Album Review: O.S.I. – Fire Make Thunder

Working from home is every man’s dream. Wake up, crack a beer, watch some daytime TV, do some work for a bit, wash the car, a bit more work, fire up your non-specific games console, a bit more work (if you haven’t been sucked in by Skyrim‘s charms yet again), then down the pub until bed. That’s (allegedly) how the Office Of Strategic Influence (O.S.I.) operate.

Of course, O.S.I. is a band and not a government office, so there’s no need for us to get our knickers in a twist. O.S.I.‘s main men are prog-rock Wunderkinds Jim Matheos (Fates Warning, Arch/Matheos) and Kevin Moore (Chroma Key, ex-Dream Theater). There’s is a long-distance partnership. Both the writing and recording for fourth album, Fire Make Thunder, (in fact, all except the final overdubs and mastering process) is done at each musician’s respective home studio. Even the drums get a home-recording – this time at sticksman, and final piece in the puzzle, Gavin Harrison’s house far away in London. With their various other projects all ticking over nicely this is clearly an arrangement that works to their advantage.

Following their frankly stunning debut album (so good it warranted a recent re-release) they have been steadily churning long-players out on a regular basis. Their last couple have seen the band produce subtler, more mellow albums that stand accused of sacrificing hooks for emotion, but Fire Makes Thunder aims to correct that imbalance. Tracks like “Cold Call”, “Guards” and “Big Chief II” all wallow hard in the groove and serve up plenty of riffs and catchy lyrics that had me helplessly mumbling along whilst en-route to my various destinations, headphones askew from gently nodding in time. Others like “Indian Curse” or “Invisible Men” drop the pace and spark moments of deep contemplation with their crafty use of psychedelic, synthetic layering.

It may yet become tiresome, but the currently innocuous recycling of riffs and lyrics is a wonderful feature of the band. It ties tracks and albums together and draws comparison with the exquisite way Porcupine Tree do the same. Good examples here are the way “Guards” continues on from “Cold Call” by linking it back using lyrical content; or when “Invisible Man” picks up its big, heavily-fuzzed riff halfway through, it immediately recalls a riff that was used to great effect in “Bigger Wave” (from 2006′s Free). All these neat touches means the album flows beautifully from piece to piece, diligently threading emotional responses together. There’s true method in their madness, y’know.

The deft instrumental, “Enemy Prayer”, with its rinsed-out lead and bucking bass, rocks its listener from pillar to post with sections of delicate piano, wild tremelo and driven guitar, and stands up as one of their finest moments. Other album highlights can be find in the dreamy, waterfalling riff, background wash and dynamically-clipped vocal of “Wind Won’t Howl” and in the searing guitars which streak across Moore’s rich, menacing delivery (curiously reminiscent of Oasis’ Liam Gallagher) during “Guards”.

“Cold Call”, despite initially biting down hard with a fierce lick, after numerous plays, quickly gets repetitive and “Big Chief II” fails to initiate lift-off with a simplistically hard heart and with little else to stir the soul. However, despite these small failings, the album is an assured winner, proving that it’s not all beer, shits & giggles in the Matheos/Moore households, and heralds a welcome return to form for the band.

Also online @ The NewReview = http://thenewreview.net/reviews/o-s-i-fire-make-thunder

Article: Writer's Picks For 2012

I was recently commissioned to highlight a couple of bands with forthcoming albums that, for the coming year, were getting me a little hot under the collar. I plumped for these two...



When a new musical style begins to form, it’s rare that many take notice until it is well and truly established. This hardly seems to have been the case for the onomatopoeically-termed genre of ‘djent’. It first appeared in the early noughties, inspired by the signature palm-muted string hammering of the Swedish metal band Meshuggah, and has rapidly grown into a goliath with new bands piling on board each and every year. India’s Skyharbor and England’s The Safety Fire are two you may not yet have come across. Both have debut albums popping up in 2012 and both promise to be real game-changers. Having seen and heard the the former’s numerous little burps and squeaks popping up on various media sites of late and having experienced the latter’s storming “Sections EP” and explosive live show, I for one am already experiencing palpatations at the prospect of the pair taking djent to the next level.

Skyharbor will release the debut album ‘Blinding White Noise: Illusion & Chaos’ worldwide via Basick Records in early 2012.
You can listen to a sample of what they do here: http://soundcloud.com/skyharbor7

The Safety Fire will release their debut album ‘Grind The Ocean' via InsideOut Music on February 27th, 2012.

This short piece also appears online @ TLOBF = http://www.thelineofbestfit.com/2012/01/best-fit-2012-preview-writers-picks/

Album Review: Quest For Fire - Lights From Paradise

According to singer/guitarist Chad Ross, this latest release is a “heavy meeting of all the music we love … pounding psych straight from the Canadian heart”. Clearly, “all the music they love” is a reference to the players’ wide array of musical backgrounds (Ross and guitarist Andrew Gunn were once part of indie rockers The Deadly Snakes whilst drummer Mike Maxymuik thrashed it up with metalcore’s Cursed); a fact that has shaped the band’s mind-blowingly varied output as they delve into the realms of stoner rock; and a fact that has enabled Toronto’s Quest For Fire to quickly switch from their self-titled debut’s tendency towards the sharply aggressive, raw punk end of stonerdom to where they are now, on Lights From Paradise, ekeing out passively-shifting, immersive psych (an experience tangibly reminiscent of something last felt whilst listening to The Warlocks) that steadily swells and abates. Throw in a guest spot from Sophie Trudeau (Montreal’s Thee Silver Mt. Zion) and her magic fiddle and it’s like being hard-wired into the music; being drip-fed adrenaline in one arm and morphine in the other.

Trudeau simply owns their oozing seven-minute introductory piece, ‘The Greatest Hits By God’, with her bowed notes gently placed above the grungy oomph of the chugged guitar and echoing vocal. ‘Set Out Alone’ and ‘Strange Vacation’ pick up the pace, kicking up the dust of the past with a Cream-esque wall of fuzz sounding off behind the garage blues drive so reminiscent of current bands like Dinosaur Jr and Dead Confederate. QFF’s party trick is their uncanny ability to knit the rough with the smooth, sucking you in for their punched hooks until you simply drop out with them as they ramp up the sustain and ditch the grunt for a smooth, rush of power chords and drifting vocal that doubles the track length. It’s an effortless shift in emotional direction that so few bands have truly mastered. The transmogrification from ‘Strange Vacation’ to ‘Confusion’s Home’ is the finest example of this and will undoubtedly leave you mouth-gaping at their mastery of moodswings.

Then, with a resounding strike on their division bell, they dig you out of your reverie and dump you, blinking like a newborn, in an unceremonious heap. Why they felt the need to suddenly throw obnoxiously clean acoustics, fatuous percussive breaks and glibly overwrought patterns upon their audience is beyond me. Both ‘Psychic Seasons’ and ‘Hinterland Who’s Who’ prove to be both left and right sore thumbs of this sophomore album. That’s not to say they don’t employ fuzz or Ross’ creamy, oscillating vocal; they merely eschew complex structure to simply blast through peaking rises, never clicking or settling until they shoot out the other side and fade to close. It feels like that switch from the relative safety of recorded programmes to the grainy, flickering image and seat-of-the-pants unpredicatiblity of live telly.

The final nine-minute cruise under the hammered rain of cymbal and drum, Pink Floyd-mimicking all the way, proves even ‘Sessions Of Light’ is more than enough to demand a return to the wondrous immersion that the first half of the album soaked itself in. All this is a bit of a shame because it doesn’t follow that a band with a potted history should produce such a potted album, yet ‘Lights From Paradise’ doesn’t deserve such a haphazard phrase being dumped upon it. It contains moments that transcend beauty, an album that delivers more than the sum of its parts. Put bluntly, a vaguely dim ending simply doesn’t dull the lighbulb of genius that precedes it.

Also online @ TLOBF = http://www.thelineofbestfit.com/2010/11/quest-for-fire-%E2%80%93-lights-from-paradise/