Album Review: Izah - Sistere

This Dutch sextet’s promo blurb describes their debut as a “72-minute long musical narration through darkness and light, hope and despair”. Within they pummel the listener with a combination of sludge-packed crush, barren post-hardcore and black metal affectations before soothing them with post-rock atmospherics. Through the use and abuse of multi-part songs, rammed with attack-and-release theatrics, gentle ebb and flow, recycling arpeggios and an array of harmonies and tones they paint a sinister picture of a world gone awry.

“Indefinite Instinct” opens to a battering gale-force wind, before ticking over into hollowed-out, reverb-loaded, gargling roars. As the bass finally kicks in the space floods with colour and the track comes alive. There are the first rumblings of emotional discord as taped newsreels are freed to paint the canvass with real anguish and torment. We get a man protesting his innocence (“I don’t know what crime I’m supposed to have committed”) as the Cult Of Luna-esque progressions build layers in the background. “Demise, demise” roars the vocalist Sierk Entius as a series of effects and radio signal scrawl bring the piece to a close.

Considering his past experience, it seems reasonable to assume that producer Jochem Jacobs (ex-Textures) may have had something to do with the repeating themes that feature and he certainly handles the eclectic and complex layering with aplomb. There are shocks in store like the sudden, aggressive attack that mark out “Duality” and “Finite Horizon”. The former, themed around the horrorshow that was the Unabomber, utilises industrial drumbeats and Cavalera-esque groove that acquiesces to reveal a sinister background thrum. It is all so reminiscent of the dark progressions that feeds the music of No Made Sense and Kongh. “Finite Horizon”s groove rapidly decays into a screwy pattern of ISIS-esque clean vocal harmonies and tones, panicked riffs and tribal rhythms. Finding something for your senses to acclimatise to does become a chore when the ground beneath your feet moves so often. It seems a shame when each constituent part alone, would be so effective.

Thankfully, the 30-minute title-track properly hunkers down to fully dissect a singular concept. Here the story of a sobbing couple torn from each other’s arms yanks at your heart – “We belong together!”. There are strong black metal overtones with continuous double-kick and Dalek-like, atonal shrieks before the body of the track moves into elegant slow motion. At 20 minutes there are trumpets and a gentle deconstruction into radio scrawl, feedback, roaring amps and whale sound. It is the equivalent of the band leaving the stage only to return to play out a warm wash until “lights out”.

Sistere is a fearless debut that strides along exuding an elegant majesty. The band’s ability to combine sounds and feed each one into their melancholic concept is impressive. All the while they dig into their disturbing box of tricks improving the flow and engendering a sense of purpose. All this proves just how in control of their own destiny they truly are. Nordvis have bagged another winner here.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2015/02/izah-sistere-nordvis/

Album Review: Herod – They Were None

On a trip to Sweden, staying in an isolated studio apartment, guitarist Pierre Caroz looked around the cold and desolate climate that surrounded him and began to construct music to match. What emerged was a primitive, oppressively dark cacophony (a little like Kongh have been assaulting us with), all spiced up with a little of Meshuggah’s polyrhythmic, deathly outpourings.

Caroz describes this Swiss quartet’s music as “progressive sludge” but dig deeper and you’ll find it laced with hardcore overtones and doomy atmospheres. The 10-minute opener that “The Fall” represents is Herod in a nutshell. The insistent, nagging patterns of Fabien Vodoz’s kicks and crashes pitch up against the crushing, down-tuned and distorted guitars. You need some kind of Neanderthal on vocal to get over the top all that noise and David Glassey delivers with a guttural roar full of vitriol and monosyllabic brutality. Such is the impassioned nature of it, you’d believe him if he claimed it offered him absolute catharsis.

Moving on from here, standout songs include the morbid story of the notorious child rapist, murderer, kidnapper and cannibal that was “Albert Fish” (told from his persepective), the enormous repeating vocal hook of “Betraying Satan” with its punishing groove (deep enough to hide a truck in) and the utter joy that is “No Forgiveness For Vultures”. This latter track is very much a tone piece. This unique creation of theirs marries invasive doom with melancholic Eastern European narration and instrumentation, and is topped off with edgy, tripped-out pedals and effects. Oh, and do listen out for Glassey giving his best impression of Eddie Vedder on steroids during the punchy “We Are The Failure”.

“Inner Peace” is the focal release point for all their mathy, death and core elements and, as such, there is an awful lot of neck-snapping and pitting that should accompany any live show that contains it. Sadly, “Northern Lights” feels a little lost beside it and the instrumental two-part breaks of “Sad Hill”, whilst providing breathing holes, are a little unnecessary considering the naturally built-in pauses within the main tracks. Still, its impressive blasting climax is actually something to treasure.

At 54 minutes this album can’t be accused of lacking in content even if the flow of the thing isn’t as smooth as it should be. One thing is for sure; Caroz definitely created a monster when he sat twiddling his thumbs in that Swedish apartment – the icy blast of winter can be felt tearing its way right through the heart of Herod. They Were None is an inventive, sprawling and freakishly powerful debut album that demands (and is worthy of) your immediate attention.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2014/07/herod-they-were-none-mighty-music-target/

Album Review: The Great Sabatini – Dog Years

Spend any time listening to The Great Sabatini and you’ll realise that this Montreal-based quartet aren’t a one-trick pony. Their fans must all come hard-wired to embrace change since, like a kid on jungle juice, their music never settles. One minute they’ll be locked into spewing forth melancholic post-hardcore to an elephantine drumbeat, the next they will be weaving sludgy riffs around hammering, avant-garde thrash.

The fact that Dog Years represents yet another tweak to their musical direction should therefore come as no surprise. In their own words… “This one is a rare instance in which we quit screaming like we had our balls in a vice long enough to try singing like we had our balls in a vice. Not really willing to go all the way clean with it, but it was a slightly different approach.”

The album (that’d be the one sporting the satanic Muppet on the front) opens at breakneck pace with a volley of disembodied, cathartic howls piling into a series of chugging, jagged rhythms. All first four tracks attack with a conviction and power that will both alarm and disarm. In those 9 short minutes, these Sabatini boys manage to find room for both doom-ridden swagger and speed-hungry insanity. Then, with a cursory flick of the wrist they sweep all that aside, eliminate the throat-scouring vocals and throw in the melodious and mind-bending Torche-esque stoned groove of “Reach” and an acoustic, steel-stringed slice of evocative Americana with “Akela”.

By keeping the production raw, they retain a sense of the chaotic, hastily-assembled magic that only a band on the edge can produce. The little hits of feedback and splattering dissonance seal the deal. King of the lot for atmosphere is the crushing menace of “Pitchfork Pete”. Perhaps it’s the gaggle of ritual chanting that does it but somewhere in here they manage to reproduce the kind of manic fervour that only a lynchmob could possess.

Yes, it’s scattergun and, yes, it may not be the easiest thing to sink your teeth into but The Great Sabatini simply aren’t afraid to venture down paths less-travelled and, by god, that’s a rare and heroic thing for a band to do.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2014/06/the-great-sabatini-dog-years-solar-flare-records/

Album Review: Thränenkind – The Elk

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

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

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

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

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

Album Review: Steak Number Eight – The Hutch

In 2007, when they had an average age of 15, Steak Number Eight were already winning band competitions. Four years later, still mostly teenagers, they released their first debut album, All Is Chaos, and watched the plaudits rain down upon them. It was always going to be this way that their 2013 sophomore effort was going to be their make-or-break album. Probably the name for their practice room or some hilarious Belgian in-joke (rather than a house for Mr. Bunny or Lonesome George), will The Hutch, this ma-hoo-sive 71 minute-long album (81 mins, if you buy the “bonus track-included” vinyl) be a hare or a tortoise?

Straight out of the traps, Sn8 tear lumps out of your ears with razor-sharp, angular attacks. First comes the battering squall of “Cryogenius”, then the hardcore-fuelled single “Black Eyed”. Combined, they form an ultra-violent Feed The Rhino / Converge / Poison The Well-esque alliance with screaming choruses and menacing links with plenty to offer the heart, yet little to offer the brain. However, no sooner has their tornado blown out, than out pops “Photonic”. Its complex tonal switch-up to something infinitely darker and quietly foreboding is utterly mesmeric. With a repeating line of “one of you is going to die” rattling around your skull, it plays on that classic horror-movie schtick of fear, worthlessness and false hope.

Here, the band have quickly settled down into what could best be described as a determined pacing. It is this sort of speed where they flick a switch and begin to pay mind to the smaller details. It is undoubtedly, what they do best – All Is Chaos proved that and things are no different here.

From this point forth, you’ll start hearing luminescent flourishes à la Torche, Isis-rich thundering and cherry-picked moments from the entire Baroness’ discography. There are slack-jawed, clean vocals, thick, rotational riffs and dark melodious washes to drown in. Constantly shifting, the band weave in new elements; layering up as they progress. The post-metal, Mastodonic meandering of the sublime “Pilgrimage Of A Black Heart” feeds the muscle of “Exile Of Our Marrow”. Before you know it, they’re piling malcontent upon disillusionment; sharpening the visceral ‘core edges for “The Shrine” and “Slumber”. These sudden, thrusting, sharp stabs finally relent to reveal a Tool-esque wasteland for the masterful “Ashore” and the brain flips once more.

How these young men can show such restraint for the entire 9:30 of “Tearwalker” is beyond me. It’s basically a one-key rolling maul of tones and textures; a track with unbelievable depth that might just literally floor you. If not, it will certainly glue you to the spot. It demands one of your greatest vacant, middle-distance stares. Are you prepared for that kind of intensity, because Steak Number Eight sure are? This is not only their “coming of age” album, it is a deal-maker, an organic masterpiece and, with a worldwide release pending, it should is going to propel them onto the biggest of stages.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/04/steak-number-eight-the-hutch-indie-recordings/

Album Review: No Consequence – IO

No Consequence have seemingly named new album IO after one of Jupiter’s moons, yet judging by the kind of lyrical content Kaan Tasan (now handling all vocal duties) blasts out here, he might be able to suggest a less-obvious interpretation. His choice of screamed words leave the listener in no doubt that the album’s inspiration lies firmly on Planet Earth. The lyrics paint a picture of a group of pissed off individuals, angry at the way this modern life of ours works. Fists are shaken at the lies we are fed, the political red tape we have to cross, or the cover-ups that keep those to blame safe. Nothing works as it should; full potential is less of a target than monetary gain and consequently hopes are dashed again and again.

And no-one says it more eloquently and passionately than Tasan. Take the last line of second track “Consumerism” and the last of closer “Unify” – “We’re part of the culture … We’re slaves to consumerism” identifying one of our many failings and “We must unify … Break out these chains / We are one” offering a solution. Everything that surrounds these strong, emotive hardcore ethics is either a focussed, fiery polyrhythmic assault bolstering jarring tech majestry 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. No Consequence are beginning to construct the sort of loud, impactful music that underground UK heroes like The Arusha Accord and The Safety Fire have been blowing our minds with.

You want an example of their vitriol? Have a listen to “Illusion Of Choice”. Layered deep to reveal a distant, meandering lead holding fort, a skidding middle-distance wedge of strings and drums, and a bellowed front of house vocal that builds to scream “What have we become?” in our recoiling faces. Every time you run through this bad boy, in between the gritty hammer on / hammer off crush of strings, you’ll catch a new infectious lyric to grasp – “Lost in a sea of truth, your lungs fill with dirt, this world doesn’t need a saviour, it needs the truth” (from the pounding “Enemy Of Logic”) or the introspective wit of “It is time to turn this tide, stuck in a world of electric distortion” (from the soft-hearted, ambient wash of “Sentient”). Make sure you keep those ears peeled back because inside these lyrics is where this album’s heart and soul lies.

Perhaps there is a nagging sense that this hard-hitting smack of disillusionment is being presented at a time when a lot of the same ground has been covered by others. Had this been written a couple of years ago, I’d have no qualms in whole-heartedly recommending it to lovers of post-hardcore and math metal alike. Nevertheless, a solid album is always a solid album so I’m going to keep this one in reserve for when my blood is really boiling. The evolution that No Consequence has undergone since their rough-edged debut is staggering, From every angle, this blows it out of the water.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/04/no-consequence-io-basick-records/