Reviews Coming Soon

Album Review: TBA
Showing posts with label punch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label punch. Show all posts

Monday, January 27, 2014

Album Review: Servers – Leave With Us

In an age when an embattled music industry has sucked up hit after hit, record labels and their artists have found solace in the art of advertising. A brash band t-shirt, a solid tour slot, an enticing line of blurb, one fanatical album review in the right place and a strong social media presence. Any of these things can be the making or breaking of a band these days. With that in mind, you’d honestly believe that the UK trio Servers were rank amateurs. An instantly-forgettable and distinctly internet-unfriendly moniker, a face-concealing “promotional” snap and music video and a few lines of biographical waffle about cults – that’s pretty much it. It’s certainly a back-door approach to self-promotion.


Take a closer look though, because lurking back there in the shadows is an absolute behemoth spouting musical ear-worms that boast grit, melody and muscle. Some groups may mesh a couple of genres together to create something fresh and dynamic – Servers are an octopic rock band with a groping arm in every pie. They are the very definition of the band you simply cannot pigeonhole. Song by song, their chameleonic music takes in grunge, dark rock, screamo, sludge, cult metal, new wave, industrial and punk n’ roll – there are even a few 70s prog touches here and there.

The keystone here is vocalist/guitarist and former GU Medicine frontman Lee Storrar. His “all is lost” melancholics and soaring Jaz Coleman-esque (Killing Joke) throat-ripping wails lock themselves seamlessly onto his portly chugs and wild riffs, but there is solid support from Ant Nettleship’s pounding drums and Lee Wilde’s fizzing bass. This here is a debut album loaded with viperous intent, an intoxicating dark quality and shedloads of melodramatic attack.

Opening with bleak menace, ‘Save Me From Myself‘ is two-parts Cancer Bats and one-part Five Finger Death Punch. It burns with an intense heat and Storrar’s hoarse yelping rises to a scream with the crecendoing chorus whilst the pistoning rhythm rumbles beneath like a detached and hopelessly lost soul. ‘Universes & Supernovas‘ and ‘Run With The Foxes‘ are their two epic firecrackers with vast riffs that will suck you in. Both Foo Fighters-esque in construction and tone, they feature big, sparkly choruses that will aggressively weld themselves to your brain. Wedged between them the intensely gothic, Icicle Works-friendly comedown of ‘Claustrophobia‘ is utterly thrilling and it’s tonal brother, the dark, sultry creature that is ‘King Things‘, is a pulsating beauty with a powerful “breathe in, breathe out” suckerpunch.

Mega High‘ ups the ante as Lee Wilde’s fat bass strings combine with Storrar’s buzzing, sludge-flinging guitar to take them powering into Orange Goblin and Fu Manchu territory. This gives licence for the vocal to dial up the snarl and caterwauling as the shit-kicking rock licks come out to play. The joy of the stomp is used to great effect for the raging bluster of the QOTSA-esque ‘Do Gooders‘. Here, their bleak cult ethos that they seem to thrive on adds another more sinister tone to their appeal.

Layered deep enough to give it a potent attack, the strong production also slaps on a slick finish and yet it’s been handled lightly enough to give it real character. Listen closely enough and beneath the power and precision, there is still the odd pop and crackle that bursts forth. No matter which track you shuffle to, there is a resplendent joy prevalent in the construction and an undeniable swagger in the delivery. Here is an album that you sense is alive and breathing. It’s dark purpose may be there in the background but, thankfully, it has not been consumed by it. Rather it stands silently within the crowd, yet with arms open, ready to wrap you in its warm, loving embrace.

When the songwriting is of this kind of quality, there really is no need to go through the standard ritual of self-promotion. If the South Yorkshire trio continue along this path, focusing solely on the creation of the music alone, the rest will simply take care of itself. As their final track clearly points out with its (rather tacked on) spooky soundbite from the “Heaven’s Gate Cult Recruitment Tape” – “The only chance you have to survive is to leave with us”. One listen to this album and you will surely want to follow Servers to the ends of the Earth.

Also online @ Heavy Blog Is Heavy = http://www.heavyblogisheavy.com/2014/01/24/servers-leave-with-us/

Monday, November 30, 2009

Gig Review: Five Finger Death Punch + Shadows Fall – Waterfront, Norwich 30/11/09

On a chilly night the crowd are pleased to get in from the glacial conditions and into the prospect of witnessing two hefty acts with big-selling albums to promote. Originally, billed as a Shadows Fall headlining tour, the rise and rise of Five Finger Death Punch has meant a joint lead slot and plenty of rockers have turned up to pay homage.

First on, Dutch metalheads Magnacult do a fine job of warming up the audience and although the reaction to them is somewhat muted, the throat-scouring vocal of Sebastiaan Lefèvre, complementing the bass-ridden groove and sonorous shredding that lurks behind it, is enough to send a promising buzz circulating the venue. The focal point is the bassist, Spit, sporting Hellraiser-esque corn plugs all over his scalp, who constantly ogles the crowd for signs of life. “I wanna see chaos” cries Lefèvre before Line Of Attack and a solitary arm is raised above a pool of nodding heads. They deserve more than they receive tonight.

Rise To Remain, however, don’t do nearly enough to impress. With baby-faced, diminutive vocalist, Austin Dickinson, they don’t have the same impact as the bands that surround them. With outstanding tracks such as the abrasive Salvation they do have the songs to impress (there’s also a crowd-friendly stomper and a track, possibly titled Undiminished, that dips in and out of gut-wrenching breakdowns), but the delivery tonight is way too impersonal – almost as if the crowd are voyeurs at one of RTR’s band practices. Sure, there’s plenty of chest-beating, but with Dickinson’s impulsion to pointlessly ask us how we’re doing tonight, over and over, it only highlights the band’s inability to gauge their audience.

With the other band members motionless, the nerve centre for Shadows Fall’s set is lead vocalist Brian Fair. Usually, this would make for a dull show, but tonight the frontman with the 4-foot dreads is on fire. They chuck their new melodic ball-breaker, Still I Rise, in early and Fair is immediately whipping the crowd into a frenzy with plenty of finger-pointing and windmilling. He follows that up by reaching up to the mesh of pipework that forms the ceiling of the venue, and swings his way out over the gawping faces who reach up instinctively to cushion his fall. The further he ventures, the more tired he becomes until finally the inevitable happens; a slip and a crowdsurf back to terra firma. “Hell, this place is dirty” he exclaims as he looks down at the layers of muck that now coat his palms. Imploring us to “fuck it up”, the crowd respond with a bout of pitting for A Public Execution. Sure, there’s an eventual loss of momentum despite Fair’s fervent devil-horning and manic exhortations (“death to false metal!”), but that early burst of hits and athletics will live long in the memory.

We’re taken by surprise as, seemingly from out of nowhere, Five Finger Death Punch frontman Ivan Moody is suddenly leering maniacally at us from atop his flightcase. The band fire up Burn It Down and he sets off into a routine of fist-pumping and head-slapping – it won’t be long before we’re seeing an ‘Action Man: Rock Edition’ of the somewhat unhinged vocalist. Veins a-popping, he throws himself into their notorious Bad Company cover, whilst at his side the whipcrack dreads of guitarist Zoltan Bathory lash the front row. For Hard To See, the pit steps it up a gear and suddenly the lasses who’ve been propping up the bar are in with the lads, singing along with every note. A young boy, who can’t be more than 10 years old, gets tossed into the air, over and across the pit, and immediately Moody’s on-stage persona is dropped to berate those before him for being so insensitive. He asks for the youngster to be gently allowed through to the front and, reaching down, he hauls him out and finds him a desirable spot at the back of the stage, away from the mayhem out front.

The connection between audience and band is one of the most important aspects of any gig and here we have a group of showman that understand how to nurture and feed that link. Bathory is constantly smiling and pulling faces at individuals within the seething mass. Across stage, bassist Matt Snell thrashes his monstrous combed beard and Mohawk combo for the fans to gawp at. At the back, drummer Jeremy Spencer stands in between songs to cup his ears and nod his head approvingly at the response. But, no-one outdoes the man with the knuckleduster microphone – Moody is quite the showman; running to one side to roar at the VIPs, standing stock still to morph a ‘little boy lost’ frown into a ‘serial killer’ smirk, and mucking in to meet and greet those that crowdsurf to the stage. Time simply flies in this band’s presence and it’s, therefore, something of a shock when the time comes to brave the frigid, fresh air once again. As least our ears and our hearts are still burning.

Photo by Tim Reynolds

Also online @ TLOBF = http://www.thelineofbestfit.com/2010/01/five-finger-death-punch-shadows-fall-waterfront-norwich-301109/