Album Review: Textures – Phenotype

Dutch goliaths Textures are rapidly building quite a reputation for quality songwriting. Following the instant success of debut album Polars they have gone on to build quite the back catalogue. All that culminated in their finest work-to-date, 2011’s polyrhythmic genre-morphing Dualism. For their latest trick they are planning a conceptual diptych, album one being Phenotype and album two being Genotype with both surrounding the subject of genetics.

Let me just put on my Professor mortar board… Now, the “genotype” concerns each organism’s core genetic structure, whilst the “phenotype” concerns the morphology and development of the organism’s traits. Essentially the two albums are a study of nature versus nurture. The intention is for the musical structures on Phenotype to reappear within Genotype, only adapted to display the music’s origins – an attempt to mimic an aural version of genotype-phenotype mapping. Yes, it seems odd to release them that way around then (the “after” picture before the “before” picture), but there you go.

Heavier than Dualism, this sports a strong muscular base that draws on pistoning drums, spasming drop-chord structures and a thick, brutish death vocal roar. Echoing the immense wall of power generated by bands like Periphery and Monuments, the whole construct hammers its way into your ears, the driving rhythm rolls around in your skull and once complete emerges with a slowly dissolving echo.

Opener “Oceans Collide” grips like a vice as it builds and builds to an unbearable crush before abating like some of Uneven Structure’s more noisome compositions. Similarly, “Shaping A Single Grain Of Sand” bucks and brays like a mule, jerking from action to inaction, from clean to roared vocal. The closing Meshuggah-styled breakdown even leaps out of hold before it has had the chance to settle but gives vocalist Daniel De Jongh a chance to give it absolutely everything. Which brings us to “The Fourth Prime”. It concerns “the downfall of man” through imperfections within those in control. It is riddled with brutish chugs and zinging fingerwork and proves the switch of guitarist Joe Tal for Jochem Jacobs will ultimately be a smooth transition. Halfway through, the rumbling drop in pace reveals a vast, echoing cave of wonders which ends up being the perfect place from which to launch a renewed aural assault.

There are spots in some songs where the music begins to feel a little overwrought – “Erosion” and “The Fourth Prime” being good examples. At these moments proceedings become swamped by the multi-part construction; the sheer desire of the band to fill every available space with an army of intertwining riffs, leads and rhythms. It proves they are one talented unit of players but sometimes less is more and here there is a tendency for the natural flow to become stifled.



In a poppier, more melodious moment, “New Horizons” proves to be catchier and a heck of a lot more colourful. As vibrant as a halogen bulb, it glows like a deconstructed Killswitch Engage track. The subject matter is all about self-improvement and rising above any perceived limitation. Further relief from the thunder, can be found in “Zman” and closer “Timeless”. The former is a gentile little number that sports a sweetly-echoing, cyclical piano played by Uri Dijk. The latter provides the glorious wash of clean vocals that we were waiting for. It takes the joy of 2011’s “Reaching Home” and turns it into a mournful, emotional ride that describes the curse of a faulty genetic blueprint. It tugs at heartstrings, playing on our own perceived fears and failings with De Jongh driving home the impacting lyric “I heard you crawling, carrying your burden down the yearning hill”.

When all is said and done it’s not a faultless album. There are oddities that initially catch you out, like the drumtrack “Meander”, but even here there is much to draw strength from – it certainly serves as a gentle reminder to Stef Brooks’ incredible percussive work that goes on behind each track. The last album was a grower, and this will inevitably also take longer to fully ingest and appreciate the full impact of Textures’ constructions. No doubt, when all is said and done we have the portent of Genotype to follow and that promises to fulfil so much of Phenotype‘s true potential.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/02/textures-phenotype-nuclear-blast/

Album Review: My Brother The Wind – Once There Was A Time When Space And Time Were One

Ready to turn on, tune in and drop out? Good, because this week has seen the release of My Brother The Wind’s third album. Diving straight in, it seems we have the stoned vibe to end all stoned vibes.

By evoking the kind of gentile, mind-expanding experiences prompted by bands like Pink Floyd, Amon Düül and Hawkwind, this Swedish quartet (comprising Anekdoten’s Nicklas Barker, Makajodama’s Mathias Danielsson, The Greencoats’ Daniel Fridlund Brandt and Magnolia’s Ronny Eriksson) caused a bit of a stir when they played Roadburn Festival last year and it’s easy to see why.

This latest instrumental album of theirs was tracked in a single day and plays like its been ripped from one single jam. It’s based around a simple premise. First, there’s the set-up. The slow winding up of the background noise like an orchestra warming their instruments. Then comes the bass setting a jazzy pattern as the warping effects begin to grind down, and then finally the rhythmic snare brushing and rolling riff that drag the bass into line to set the pace. “Song Of Innocence”, split into to parts, is essentially a pastiche of tricks that twist and bend the drifting sound whilst the exploratory lead guitar runs through its repertoire of solos utilizing ear-to-ear phonics to mess with the noggin. Wrapped up in a cotton wool fuzz, everything is kept soft , bluesy and echoing gently.

“Into The Cosmic Halo” is the first track to break-out as the hedonistic psych backs off and the riff finally kicks in. By suppressing the drums behind the bass and lead, they have left the album feeling a little cut adrift from its moorings but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Stripping the layers back further MTBW bring in a strong ethnic vibe to produce “Misty Mountainside” and “Garden Of Delights”. Boasting acoustic guitar, bells and tabla drums, the former drags you out to the peace and tranquility of a Himalayan monastery, and then has you breathing in the aromas of a colourful Turkish bazaar. The title-track features yet more acoustic guitar and a sweet build that wobbles about, yet never quite goes anywhere. That is until the bass drive of “Epilogue” takes us floating out the back door on a relaxing tidal wash.

My Brother The Wind apparently don’t need a direction in which to head, a focal point or a sense of purpose. As a consequence their music isn’t necessarily essential listening. It doesn’t provide the sort of experience that demands to be heard in any way. You need to want to go on this journey to appreciate the simple, enigmatic beauty of it. Even the album title has been designed to trigger deep thoughts. This is indeed music that transcends time. It will be rendered redundant in the wrong hands but it will become gold dust in the right ones.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2014/10/my-brother-the-wind-once-there-was-a-time-free-electric-sound/

Album Review: Tusmørke – Riset Bak Speilet

Anyone up for a good old-fashioned campfire freakout? Addled minds and heightened senses, merry jigs and sudden noises and, all the while, dark shadows cavort across the trunks of gnarled, bent trees. The identical Momrak twins of Tusmørke (meaning “Twilight”) clearly have a bit of experience in this area and make music that provides the perfect backdrop to such revelry with lush, dark tones, magical instrumentation and rich layering all invoking the rituals, the emotions and hallowed reverence of the occasion. Sniff hard and you’d swear you could smell damp undergrowth and burning wood.

With a strong root system reaching back, past the Scandinavian neo-progressive rock scene of the 1990s which birthed them, to invoke the 1970s sounds of Jethro Tull and Focus, this acid rock group also manage to suck in a darker quality that encroaches upon the listener. It’s a foreboding, broader sound that can be allied to more contemporary sources such as Hexvessel and Circle. The key points to their attack are to be found in the majesty of the harmonics, the use of minor keys and the flourishes of Krizla’s flute and Årabrot’s Hammond organ.

With songs that are sung in English wedged in between two sung in their native language, this 5-track album isn’t afraid to twist tongues to match-make. Opener “Offerpresten” (in English, “Sacrificial Priest”) is a beauty. Majestical and rhythmically strong, the music could have come direct from the imaginings of Ian Anderson himself. The flute threads a riff through the piece that had me grinning from ear to ear, mocking the great man’s flamingo legs and hopping from foot to foot. Can you air flute? The softer, folk-riddled hush of “Gamle Aker Kirke” will transport you back to mediaeval times and the imposing shadow of an old church. There’s strong harmonies here and a passage of spoken word that pops up amidst all this curtseying and courtliness.

There is a subtle dip in impact tracks that takes place as you venture deeper into the album. The dream of flying with the “Black Swift” is scuppered by it being a somewhat repetitive and all too regimented journey. By the end of its 8:40 running time it is really struggling. You’d think the 14-minute “Riset Bak Speilet” (translated as “The Birch Behind The Looking Glass”) might suffer from the same problem at 13:20, but exercise a little patience and you should find plenty of excellent King Crimson-esque jazzy affectations, an engaging shape-shifting structure, an addictive re-emergent chorus lick and a sweet thread of magickal organ and flute.

So engaging are the lyrics, I have made it my prerogative to learn Norwegian before their next release. My personal favourite here lurks in “All Is Lost” – “Wasted effort, Time ill spent, Now I can’t even pay the rent, All is lost”. For those who dig a decent lyric there’s definitely also a mention of “Toilet pain” in here somewhere. Do make sure you pick up the CD version of this because then you’ll get 3 bonus tracks to wade through. It’s an excellent find this. Don’t let the connections with other bands put you off. It is a real glimmer of stylistic originality within a vast sea of over-familiar, unimaginative dross and well worth a listen.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2014/05/tusmorke-riset-bak-speilet-svart-records/

Album Review: Spirits Of The Dead – Rumours Of A Presence

A quick glance around reveals just how far this modern obsession for all-things retrospective has come. From the re-emergence of the flared trouser or a penchant for all things eyeball-meltingly fluorescent to our longing for the foods we grew up with or the analogue sounds that so inspired our forebears.

Throwing in their two penn’orth, the suitably-monikered Spirits Of The Dead have gone for the latter and have set about exploring their own heroes’ musical echoes. This latest album of theirs has emerged laden with strong psychedelic and lush folk elements. It reeks of all things Floydian and Zeppelian. Its propulsive drive wraps itself around the subjects of death and the sea, drowning us in an incandescent tapestry of lyrics. But does it stand out from the sudden crowd of like-minded groups that has formed, all of them seemingly staring over their shoulders?

Having preciously dipped my toes in the melting pot of their 2008 self-titled debut and emerged with my pinkies dripping of King Crimson, Dead Meadow and Black Sabbath goo, I can assure you that they haven’t watered down their music any. Whilst this may start with the sun in its eyes, it quickly finds some shadows in which to lurk. In fact, the deeper you venture, the more inventive and impressive their music becomes. Naturally, everything within is enveloped in a warm, fuzzball production, like it’s been wrapped in cellophane and kept near the radiator for several decades.

Openers “Wheels Of The World” and the more expansive “Song Of Many Reefs” offer up big, meaty mouthfuls of 70s folk rock that echo the silken, pulsating rhythms of goliaths like Fleetwood Mac, Zeppelin and Emerson Lake and Palmer. A step back and “Golden Sun” hones the nostalgic vibe, removing the harsh, top-end chime of the guitars to leave a tone that glows with gentle proggy touches. The thick, spongy bass within provides the finishing touch – a comforting, warped groove to bolster the craftily-hooked chorus.

They haven’t fully shaken off their inability to keep the music flowing throughout. The staggered drop-off into the album’s mid-riff is a little off-putting leaving the listener struggling to connect the dots and continue their journey. “Dance Of The Dead”, a seemingly unfinished one-riff lope, spends its woefully-brief minute-and-a-half simply rising and falling like a ship lost at sea, and “Rumours Of New Presence” chaotically splits its focus, frogmarching us from a spacey, Hammond-dominated number into a dark, panic-stricken Sabbathian march.

Thankfully, the final trio of the “Red Death”, “Seaweed” and “Oceanus” are all tracks worth hanging in there for. The former is full of menace and obeyance to the forefathers of doom, with vocalist Ragner Viske giving it the full stoner growl and Ole Øvstedal’s chords shaking the ground like falling rocks, whilst the latter couplet tout an acoustic hush and a psychedelic vocal warble that thrust the soft tones of America’s “A Horse With No Name” at the majesty of early-Tull to really drive home their more folky leanings.

So, yes, it’s an album that may not be faultless, but quibbling over such small things seems a little petty when you consider the quality of the remainder. Spirits Of The Dead aren’t just copying their idols here, like retro giants Graveyard and Witchcraft they are paying them the greatest tribute by reinventing these quadrageneric artistic touches to fit a thoroughly modern template.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/11/spirits-of-the-dead-rumours-of-a-presence-the-end/

Album Review: Oceans Of Slumber – Aetherial

Planets on album covers. They are becoming as familiar as bands labelling themselves “progressive” to mean forward-thinking rather than the retro-minded souls that you might expect them to be. Houston’s Oceans Of Slumber mean it in the sense that they dabble – i.e.; they are prepared to mash musical genres together to obtain a technically complex whole. The art of song construction has never been braver than here. Yes, a gorgeous gatefold sleeve with three planets to gawp at and an album that unites a grind drummer with a jazz guitarist and throws new-age prog and old-school doom at black and death metal. The result is an album that goes a bit Opeth, a bit Devin Townsend, a bit Enslaved then, at other moments, loses it altogether and heads off into Faith No More and Incubus territory. This is going to be fun.

The opening bars of Aetherial, the ragged minor chords of an acoustic guitar and the tumultuous bellow of Ronnie Allen, conjure memories of Mastodon’s Crack The Skye and Isis’ Wavering Radiant. Otherwordly, dissonant, abrasive and vast, “God In Skin” is a crushing initial blow with a huge dynamic range that stretches it’s gnarled fingers into the starry heavens and the blackened beyond. And the blacker the band go the more ludicrous they get. Elegiac maudlin becomes raw pain pouring from “Primordial” before it just throws on the clown mask and starts mono-cycling round the big-top. Oh and, yes, and if you’re looking for your hit of Mike Patton head to “Blackest Cloud” which lives up to it’s name and also goes a bit doolally, resulting in the stilted playing of the American national anthem.

The vocals attack from many different angles. We’re offered up Dalek-like gargling monotone for the line “Coffins in the sky like kites on strings, dead things” which flips to a hollow, disembodied roar for “Surrender, just go ahead and bow to me”. Move further into the album and there’s an affected bluesy, melodious male voice vying with a removed, echoing female voice. It’s a real bag of tricks this.

From the jazzy tech attack of double-kick and bass-heavy arrhythmia that rips through the heart of the jarring “Remedy” to the wonderfully straight-forward groove of “Only A Corpse”, Oceans Of Slumber clearly don’t do patterns. You could jumble the running order up and be spat out the other end with the same wide-eyed, slightly spaced-out look, having been blasted with all manner of sounds, yet still clutching the same few moments of joy. “Bleed me down to nothingness, fill me up with emptiness” from “Athereal” and the last gasp Mitch Lucker-esque “Cowards!” howl in “Coffins Like Kites” are my moments. Oh, and all of the staggeringly lush “The Great Divide”.

When extreme technical ability meets the songwriting minds of madmen you get an album like Aetherial. Some will consider this self-absorbed jiggery-pokery; something to use as a coffee-mat. Others will see this as the disjointed early etchings of potential champions. “Is this a great blow to your minds?” enquires Allen. That’s an affirmative, Captain.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/04/oceans-of-slumber-aetherial-self-released/

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: The Advent Equation – Limitless Life Reflections

My love for technically-demanding modern metal means I often find myself writing words that might convince those browsing the web that I am concocting some magnificent, scientific conundrum. In the past, I have come across albums by The Omega Experiment, TesseracT, The Mars Volta, The Mercury Program and The HAARP Machine. Now, here I am writing about The Advent Equation. It’s enough to quantum your mechanics.

These particular modern metallists come from Mexico. Yep, the home of tequila and tortilla. It’s often thought of as a bit of a metal deadzone, though when you consider it’s vicinity to the noisy hotbed of North America that’s always seemed surprising. Early run-throughs of Limitless Life Reflections prove The Advent Equation are obviously keen to put that idea to bed with their accomplished combination of prog, death and tech metal. Seriously, you’ll struggle to believe this hasn’t come from the cold heart of Scandanavia (I’m not in the least surprised to learn it did pass through Jens Borgen’s Fascination Street Studio at one point on it’s journey).

Take “Afterlife Evolutionary”. It opens with a tumultuous broil of drums setting the rhythm, over which is laid a bloodlusting death roar, quickfire finger taps, dramatic piano and cutaways into melodic synth. From here, we are dragged through a rapid series of menacing, instrumental affectations and lurching timing changes. And that’s just one track. It’s clear that getting to grips with this ever-changing mixture of musical techniques and emotional tones is going to be no easy task. Other tracks like the floating melancholy of “Visons Of Pain” and “Hopeless” don't dig down so far and are less obtuse in their design. They are recognisable songs and, as such, are a little easier to gain a foothold on.

Tracks like “Glimpse Of What May Be” and “A Descent Into The Unreal” will grab you with their depth of sound. The three-part vocal harmonies and hammering switchbacks that underscore it all are intense, anthemic and at their apex, truly awe-inspiring. However, with so much that meanders and lollops around these momentary snatches of genius, it’s hard to fully get behind the songwriting – “On Darkness”, for instance, sweeps from the dull, inane and metronomic into an overpowering smack of twinkling synth and back again through an unnatural series of segues.

The album, as a whole, is best thought of as a series of tonal shades ranging from black to grey and back again. Opeth and Enslaved influences run close to the surface throughout this chameleonic collection of death-led monsters and lighter harmonic pieces with piano-dominated and stringed acoustic sections, though it’s also not hard to spot the connection with several of those aforementioned more tech-minded acts. The rhythmic anomalies and ambient texturing are, in fact, key to driving home the heart of the piece. The question is: are you hungry for Mexican? – a trip to their SoundCloud page should give you plenty to chew on.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/02/the-advent-equation-limitless-life-reflections-self-released/

Album Review: The Omega Experiment – The Omega Experiment

Recently, a small progressive rock grenade went off on bandcamp. It happened when The Omega Experiment digitally self-released their debut album and, as word spread, Listenable Records’ interest was piqued and a deal was inked. A few months down the line and this Michigan trio are ready for lift-off with this re-released physical copy – it’s about time we gave you the lowdown on it then.

Now, what makes this one stand out about above most is the album’s general tone. It’s an upbeat pastiche of jagged strings and euphoric synths and comes with energy in abundance. At times, you’ll find yourself overwhelmed by it as unconfined joy washes over you in layers. The whole vehicle stands on the strength of its lush, interwoven vocals and recorded spoken interviews – the latter technique reminds me of those ambiguous ripped radio edits that pop up on groovy lounge albums performed by the likes of Lemon Jelly and Bombay Monkey.

Kicking us off, “Gift” hits like a twenty-foot breaker; wide as an aircraft carrier, deep as the ocean itself. The enormity of it is staggering as it echoes through euphoric builds and poppy hooks. It’s instantly reminiscent of the vast soundscapes created by musical genii like Devin Townsend and Jim Matheos (this eloquently echoes his O.S.I. project for many different reasons). Dan Wieten’s multi-tracked, subtly whining vocals search out catchy, flamboyant flourishes and harmonic peaks to really drive home each set of lyrics (all of which are kept deliberately vague to allow you to apply your own assumptions). Through the hearty emotion and crushing drums of tracks like “Stimulus” and “Bliss” they begin to bed down to a place where they echo the rich, complex structures of certain so-called ambidjent bands such as Tesseract, Vildhjarta and Chimp Spanner.

And yet, it’s only in the angrier clutches of “Furor” and “Karma”, at moments when the thudding guitar dissonance steps up to lay it on thick and heavy and the vocal becomes a disembodied roar, that they begin to really display their full potential with some mind-mangling complexity of structure and mean tech skills to boot. Hell, they’re dipping their toes in Between The Buried And Me and The Contortionist territory here. It’s the instrumentals too that offer up a chance to impress but they don’t lay themselves as bare here as expected (we have to wait until the subtle pop spin and gentle psych of “Terminus” for that to occur), but it is here that they are found a little wanting. The jokingly-titled “Tranquility”, with its infuriatingly-repetitive one-liner and cacophonous climax is a weak spot, and “Bliss” which throws two different spoken-word scripts at you, one in one ear and one in the other, turns your brain to blancmange.

It’s not just a clown of an album; it’s the complete circus. There are all sorts of high-wire antics as guitars are juggled and pounding cannons sound off to the tune of the ringmaster. There are even comedic skits where the candied synth tries, unsuccessfully, to steal the spotlight. Then, as the show draws to a close, the thumping dance euphoria of “Paramount” raises the roof and drops like the final piece in the jigsaw. Yes, you can be certain you’ve got your money’s worth with this one.

Album teaser @ their Bandcamp = http://theomegaexperiment.bandcamp.com/track/album-teaser

Review also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/01/the-omega-experiment-st-listenable-records/