Lists: Heavy Blog Is Heavy's Best Of Selections, Part 1

I've been throwing some input into a few of these selections recently...

Heavy Blog Is Heavy's Best Of: Spooky Albums For Halloween

Dark Buddha Rising might just be the creepiest band I have ever come across. Their occult, languorous doom-drone is divisively seductive. With a tone so dark, yet one so easily penetrated, it's all too easy to get swept up in its sultry underscore. Their music expands ever outward from a mile-thick chant that sounds like it comes from the throats of a coven of hooded giants. Loud enough to rattle your teeth with enough low-end to invade the sub-conscious, then suffocating and brutal enough to send your brain into spasms. It is music that lurks in the shadows; garotte wire at the ready. Dakhmandal is a stupefying, suffocating veil; it is a lesson in the art of covert indoctrination.

Heavy Blog Is Heavy's Best Of: Power Metal

Embedded with the symphonic side of power metal rather than the speedier characteristic, this Turisas debut really has more to do with folk metal, yet it remains a valid and important touchstone to finding the true heart and soul of the genre. Like those other albums listed here, it’s without doubt a pure celebration of metal. It’s uplifting and, actually, quite oddly amusing. I defy anyone who hears this for the first time not to smile. Throughout, it bubbles with orchestral instrumentation. There’s the utter joy and mesmeric, dancing accordion of ‘In The Court Of Jarisleif’ and the bright and sparkling ‘Fields of Gold’. It all flows beautifully and comes hard-wired with a steady rhythmic underscore, pulsating drums and sweeping keys. Of course, the bonus is the fact it tells the 11th century tale of the Vikings’ (or rather the Varangians’) journey through the Baltic, so it really is the most fun you can have while learning history.

Heavy Blog Is Heavy's Best Of: Way, Way Different

You want a change of musical direction? Try Iron Maiden‘s The Number Of The Beast on for size. Being NWOBHM pioneers, the sound of those early albums was hewn from a combination of the strongest heavy music scenes of the time – melodic rock, thrash and, thanks to Paul Di’Anno’s delivery, a heavy dose of punk. Bruce Dickinson, arriving from the all-conquering Samson, brought us his operatic range, his ear for harmony and, most importantly of all, his love for a good story. Consequently, the songwriting became more complex and the performances more vivid.

Without doubt, being an album displaying both bite and melody, this is their crossover point. Here, they are still attuned to their thrashier side, as tracks like the faster, punchier “Invaders” and “22 Acacia Avenue” will attest (you can almost hear the influence of Di’Anno snarling somewhere behind Dickinson’s sharp, clipped delivery). However, by the time they hit the monster, more languid, storytelling of songs like the infectious title-track and the eerie “Hallowed Be Thy Name” they are breaking new ground and carving their future careers in stone. Both these legendary numbers still stand out proudly today as two of their best.

Heavy Blog Is Heavy's Best Of: Progressive Metalcore

Having seared our earlobes with the intensive rough-edged ‘core of 2009’s In The Shadow Of Gods, last year the UK’s No Consequence set about joining up the dots and coloring in the spaces with a good dose of progressive layering. Listening to IO now, still the key to unlocking the beast within lies in the lyrical content. Here, is a bunch of pissed-off individuals, angry at the way that this modern life of ours works. Fists are shaken at the lies that are fed, the political red tape that we have to cross and the cover-ups that keep those to blame safe. Married to these strong, emotive hardcore ethics comes either a focussed, fiery assault or subversive side-steps into spaced-out, atmospheric prog.

Whether screamed or sung, played at break-neck or ponderous speeds, the whole is balanced beautifully. It is the sort of loud, impactful music that current heroes The Safety Fire have been blowing our minds with of late. One defining focal point that says it all comes worming its way through the skidding middle-distance wedge of strings and drums, from behind the drop-offs and dreamscaping, from beyond even the distant, meandering lead. One solitary voice; a bellowed front of house vocal that builds to scream “What have we become?” in our recoiling faces. Yes, busting with infectious hooks, introspective wit and some of the most gorgeous segues this side of an Arusha Accord construction, IO marks one giant leap in the evolution of No Consequence.


Want to catch the full lists? Go here: http://www.heavyblogisheavy.com/category/lists/

There will be more lists to follow... it is inevitable.

Album Review: Baaba Kulka - Baaba Kulka

I know, I know. You're about to start listening to me waffle on about fiddle-de-dee folk and bippety-bop pop music and you want to know why the hell as a rabid metal fan you should carry on reading. For now, all I want you to do is take a moment, a deep breath, as I try to explain who the hell Baaba Kulka are and what the devil they have got to do with Iron Maiden.

Comfortable? Then I'll begin. The driving force behind the Baaba Kulka project is the award-winning Polish singer/songwriter/pianist Gabriela 'Gaba' Kulka. Now, the idea of a jazz/folk artist citing Maiden as an influence, may seem a little out of left field but, to be fair, she is a bit prone to bouts of eccentricity (one listen to her off-the-wall lyrics should do it). Still with me? Okay. Well, such is her love for the Irons that she decided to gather other like-minded Polish artists (some of whom she'd worked with previously on her solo albums) to play a supposedly one-off show of Maiden covers at the Hard Rock Café in Warsaw. She could have had no idea as to how well it would be received so, needless to say, they ended up touring it all over Poland and following it up with this very album of classic Maiden songs. Naturally, us being a dedicated heavy music site, we needed to give you the lowdown on just how "metal" it is.

Well, let's just get this out of the way, it's not going to open any moshpits. However, hearing Baaba Kulka's unique take on each individual track is still a pretty rewarding experience. The familiar kick-ass lyrics, backed by a rich variety of tones and textures, takes you on a potted saunter through Maiden's early history. You can hear that each track treats each lyric as if it's something to be adored and cosseted; granted its own particular space and mood. Believe me, when I say you can feel the love.

The simple synth and deliberately-ponderous opening delivery of 'The Number Of The Beast' allows for each word to ram itself into your conscious, so hacking clear a path for Kulka's elongated quavering vocal peak to pitch you into string, brass and woodwind pieces that lope along to a stripped-back beat. The jazzy construction and salsa rhythms of 'Wrathchild' are joined by the soul and electronica of 'Aces High' for what could quite possibly be the spawn of Chrome Hoof and Burt Bacharach. 'Children Of The Damned', similarly, hits the groove pedal and fishes out an emotional, piano-led, funk-fuelled piece of pop that, for some reason, has me thinking of those oddball alt-rockers Foxy Shazam. Oh yes, the horns are high and the Devil is dancing tonight.

All too often, though, things get just a little too odd. Baaba Kulka manage to turn 'Prodigal Son' into a meandering Queen-esque dance track (with Marina & The Diamonds jamming to Jethro Tull's Ian Anderson on jazz flute) and the most metal track (you could call it a kind of black pagan metal), 'To Tame A Land', a 7-minute troll through a series of macabre theatrics, simply fails to ignite any level of curiosity. The different speeds and layers never quite seem to gel and you'll find yourself hitting the skip button pretty rapidly. Ditto the minute of Gregorian chant that forms 'The Ides Of March'.

But, worst of all, they've committed the ultimate sin and rather screwed up the legendary 'Hallowed Be Thy Name'. These heathens appear to have gone so lo-fi as to construct the entire backing for the track on a tinny keyboard no less. It reminds me of that dusty old Roland we have in the corner, set to that god-awful "swing rock" drum setting with accompanying, pre-programmed chords sounding off in turn. Burn them, burn them all.

Okay I'm exaggerating but, it's fair to say the second-half of the album fails to live up to the promise of the first. On the bright side, to keep the metal flag flying, several of the tracks have a habit of suddenly breaking out the heavy and this is definitely a good thing. Take 'The Clairvoyant' which starts out flying along, disjointedly cuts to insert a half-time flamenco rhythm (yes, they actually do break out the castanets), before that acquiesces to allow the guitars to charge back in. Odd.

Weird Al Yankovic, Flametal, Richard Cheese, Rodrigo y Gabriela, Hellsongs, early-Apocalyptica - we've been here before. Yes, we've all got at least one collection by a band who play odd covers of rock/metal songs. Off the top of my head, I've got a copy of The Darkness' 'Permission To Land' as performed by The Angry String Orchestra. If you don't have one of these and/or love the Maiden, then let Baaba Kulka be your slice of dairy. If you approach this with an open mind, the novelty value may wear a little thin after the first couple of spins, but you could do a lot worse.

Also online @ Metal Team UK = http://www.metalteamuk.net/july11reviews/cdreviews-baaba.htm

Gig Review: Sonisphere Festival 2010, Knebworth, UK

Last year, the inaugural Sonisphere, held at Knebworth, proved to be a massive success and dispelled fears that the UK might not be able to support another major heavy festival to run alongside the monster tha Download, at Donington Park, has become (especially when you take into account the clutch of minor heavy festivals that have cropped up recently). Offering much the same layout as last year’s event (still with opposing main stages taking it in turn to play), but now having been boosted to a three-day event, rather than the quick-stop two, it’s surprising to see so many folks milling aimlessly around. There’s no time to ponder such frailties of organisation, however, because my ears are beginning to swell to the sounds of battle metal...

Full review = http://www.thelineofbestfit.com/2010/08/sonisphere-festival-2010-%E2%80%93-knebworth-3007-01082010/

DVD Review: Iron Maiden - Live After Death

It’s taken Iron Maiden a whopping twenty-two years to release visuals to accompany what is regarded by many fans as the finest live metal album of all time. ‘Live After Death’ was recorded over four sold-out nights at Long Beach Arena, California during the middle of their epic World Slavery Tour. The tour itself was to promote the 1984 ‘Powerslave’ album and took in 193 shows and took the best part of a year to complete. Included is the second part of ‘The History Of Iron Maiden’ (the first part is on ‘The Early Years’ DVD release) providing excellent insight into the details of the tour; ‘Behind The Iron Curtain’ charting the remarkable story of how Maiden became the first major Western band to play the Eastern Bloc at the height of the Cold War; ‘Rock In Rio’ where they played a gig to a staggering 300,000 people; and tour programme artwork, photo stills, videos from the album and other tour-related ephemera. It’s quite a package then!

From the very beginning and the opening lines of Churchill’s famous war-speech the hairs on the back of my neck are going haywire. Comparing what the band are doing now with what they were doing back then it’s amazing to see how little has changed. The current line-up is virtually the same with only guitarist Janick Gers missing. It’s lycra and leather, studding and sweatbands - check out drummer Niko McBrain’s garish ‘Flash Gordon’ gym kit - and is all looking a bit glam, with vocalist Bruce Dickinson sporting an 80’s school-girl fringe, but once the band blasts into ‘Aces High’ and he starts belting out that soaring, vibrato vocal this all pales into insignificance.

The lighting rig and rest of the stage set has been superbly designed to fit equally well into a stadium or a small club and comprises richly-coloured hieroglyphics and pyramids to match the album’s Egyptian theme. At one point Dickinson appears on the amp-stack wearing a feathered-mask, which he confesses to having bought from a shop selling homo-erotic paraphernalia! There is flames and fireworks, dry ice and sweeping spotlights and whenever their mascot, Eddie The Head, makes an appearance, wrapped in bandages, it whips the crowd up into a frenzy.

Bassist Steve Harris spends most of the gig in a classic metal pose, one foot up on the amp, determinedly gunning down the crowd with his bass-head. Guitarists Dave Murray and Adrian Smith trade mind-melting solos whilst jumping about the stage, but it’s Dickinson who’s the most active, running tirelessly around like a maniac. Drum-riser to crowd to amp-stack, he introduces each song with a roar, yelling out alternately the name of the city, the state or the venue - “Scream for me Long Beach, screeeeam for me Long Beach!” Compared to the album, there are small additions to Dickinson’s interplay with his audience between songs which only serve to increase the feeling of actually being there. There’s also an extra track, ‘Sanctuary’, to enjoy.

The cameras have total stage access with front and back shots, a drum camera and a sweeping arm that swings back and forth over the fans. Close-ups, long panoramic pans and views from the pit, it’s all there. The epicentre of this awesome show is the 13-minute masterpiece, ‘Rime Of The Ancient Mariner’, adapted from the drug-addled mind of Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Somewhere mid-song the stage is flooded with a swirling mist which rises to waist-height before pouring off the stage-front. The three guitarists stand motionless centre-stage, captured in beams of moonlight, gently picking out the rhythm as a deep spoken voice intones the poem’s lyrics to the sound of creaking timber echoing off the walls of the arena. The bass lifts, Dickinson returns to the stage and the crowd roar their approval at the ultimate combination of theatrics and heavy music.

The only things I can fault the DVD for are the occasional repetition of visuals, due mainly to the sheer volume - four hours worth - of material on offer, and the differences in quality between the main show and the extras which throws the poorer product into a harsh light. Without these extras though you wouldn’t know about the time Dickinson got a face-full of guitar; you wouldn’t know that the band played ‘Smoke On The Water’ at a Polish wedding; and you wouldn’t know about the time when McBrain went swimming mid-song before returning to his kit dripping wet. I could go on about why you should be parting with your hard-earned cash but, to put it in simple terms, you simply won’t find a more compelling chronicling of a band on tour, a band so at ease with themselves, and a band at the ultimate peak of their powers.