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/

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: 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/

Gig Review: Pelican + High On Fire – Barfly, Birmingham, 15/12/07

With two such wildly differing bands, tonight was always going to be about subtlety and aggression; serenity and conflict. This scenario slowly plays out before our eyes but with more passion and intensity than we could possibly have ever expected.

Pelican

The joss-sticks are lit and Pelican hit us with their instrumental brand of guitar-driven post-metal, opening with “Dead Between The Walls”; undoubtedly the star of the new album. Trevor De Brauw, strikingly reminiscent of a young Bryan Adams, is rapidly forming complex shapes with his fingers whilst across the stage Laurent Lebec pounds his head back and forth like a chicken as he loses himself in the song. “Bliss In Concrete” follows before they launch into the 11-minute epic, “March Into The Sea” in which the band impressively change tempos as one, slowing the pace to a plodding march before winding it up to a galloping roar. The two leads never seem to play the same chord at the same time, constantly harmonising over the driving bass.

Throughout the gig the boys have had their eyes closed, at one with their soundscapes and only once are they truly disturbed when the soundman inexplicably cuts the electrics to spew forth a torrent of techno music. “What the fuck?” yells Bryan Herweg. Apologies are issued and the band returns to their catatonia in which they find time to fit in “Pink Mammoth” and “Aurora Borealis” before coming back to “City Of Echoes” and a well earned roar of approval.

High On Fire are all spit and fury; grimy and unsettling – a three-piece intent on deafening us with their four amp full-stack set-up. Contrasting with the check shirts and secretive tattoos of Pelican, Matt Pike is a painted whore of a front-man. He paces the stage like a caged beast raising his fist in triumph and demanding the same of those before him. “Fury Whip” is first out and immediately the cheekiest grin in metal is displayed as Pike shows just how well he can shred those riffs. “Waste of Tiamat” really impresses as his insane 9-stringed lead creates a torrent of chiming underneath which Jeff Matz’s bass throbs with the monstrosity of a revved-up Formula One engine and Des Kensel’s double-kick beats relentlessly into you. It is seriously loud and the constant noise never abates; ever-pressing, crushing all those present against its giant wall of sound. “Cometh Down Hessian”, “Turk” and “Death Is This Communion” are all screamed along with the baying crowd.

The set ends all too soon and Pike seems to concur by raising his guitar and howling at the sky. If Pelican were the calm before the storm then High On Fire truly were that storm. Breathless and invigorated we file out soundlessly – or maybe that’s just because I have no ears left.

Photo courtesy of Rich E

Also online @ TLOBF = http://www.thelineofbestfihttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gift.com/2007/12/pelican-high-on-fire-barfly-birmingham-151207/