Album Review: Stone Sour – House Of Gold & Bones, Part II

By keeping his cards close to his chest, little has been revealed about frontman Corey Taylor’s concept propping up this double-album. Taken word for word from the preview for the forthcoming Dark Horse Comics’ story (yes, it’s due for a staggered release as a graphic novel too) we have this – “Trapped in an alternate reality, the Human must make his way to the House of Gold & Bones as he is chased by a crazed, mindless mob, and taunted by his mysterious friend and foe, Allen. What the Human discovers on his journey will be his salvation or his destruction.”

Now what became apparent, when Part I was released last year, was that it really didn’t matter too much if you weren’t aware of the concept. The individual tracks all had their own identity with the whole struggling to flow like a good concept should. This may have been possibly because it had been hyped up (by its creator) to be the best thing since sliced bread, so naturally it underwhelmed with its middle-of the road, dull chuntering. Part II will be judged with expectations adjusted accordingly so, naturally, it will have similar shock value, but for entirely different (and all of the right) reasons.


The first thing to hit you is just how fucking intense this thing is. I suspect the reason for the difference is that it’s all integral to the story with Part I being the build and the introspective maudlin and Part II having all the chase scenes and the drama. Guitarist Josh Rand summed that idea up quite neatly when he was quoted recently as saying “the riffs, the lyrics, the grooves and the songs are like Stone Sour times ten.” Listen to the dissolute screams on the bridges of “Gravesend” or the manic, lung-bursting roars that tear out the heart of “Red City” and I reckon you’ll agree he’s got a point. By comparison, all of this album’s constituent parts have been beefed-up making them bigger, bolder and a million times more effective.

The big-hitting singles are going to come from places like the 10-foot groove dug by “Black John”, the maniacal villain that haunts our hero (any connection to TV’s The Mentalist and their resident psycho “Red John” is probably coincidental), the bouncy rock licks of “Do Me A Favour” and the title-track which cuts down hard enough to release a line like “I’ve got nothing to prove to a son of a bitch like you”. Look elsewhere and you’ll hear piercing, instantly recognisable riffs in sweet cuts like “’82″ and “The Uncanny Valley” whilst the post-rock mystique of “Blue Smoke” strip the vocal back and murmur pedal effects that render it strongly reminiscent of bands like OSI and Porcupine Tree.

Now before we get carried away here, Stone Sour’s tendency to revert to a mundane, predictable, static AOR plod does pop up here and there. Poppy ballad “Sadist” drifts along offering little whilst “The Conflagration” pulls in an orchestra for little more than a dull spot of 80s soft rock a la Foreigner, Mr. Big, Scorpions, etc. Even worse is the horrendous double key-change in “Stalemate” which deserves the obligatory inside-out face cringe.

Only a fool could fail to see the money-making, wallet-draining potential of this entire multi-platform project (intentional or otherwise), but that’s another matter altogether. What really counts here is that even including these weaknesses, and excluding the back story, accompanying album and ephemera, HOGAB2 is one hell of an album and a solid challenger for the title of Stone Sour’s finest album. Even if you disagree with that assessment, it’s their first worthy output in seven years, so it’s not one to be dismissed lightly.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2013/04/stone-sour-house-of-gold-bones-part-ii-roadrunner/

Album Review: Band Of Skulls - Sweet Sour

Southampton’s Band Of Skulls are a band on the cusp of something special. Their debut album, Baby Darling Doll Face Honey, nicely egged on by a couple of impact single releases, took them to some exciting places, and this latest long-player is already receiving some high-profile attention. Radio 1 has been blasting out the promo singles on a regular basis and, tuning in, it’s pretty easy to see why.

A quick glance at bassist/vocalist Emma Richardson’s Rorschashian inkblot artwork, this time around, is your first indication that Sweet Sour is going to rock harder than their debut. It has developed into something far more sinister than the blossoming glory of their debut. I’ve fallen into her trap by assembling its imagery into either a dissected, bloodied chicken corpse or, possibly, an Alien facehugger about to impregnate the viewer. Whichever it is, she’s nailed the album title in one startling image.

Certainly, the top end of Sweet Sour is all about the crunch. Guitarist/vocalist Russell Marsden has said “We wanted to write material that’s primed for where we’d got to. Beefier songs for bigger stages”. They are certainly that, with tracks like ‘Bruises’ and ‘Devil Takes Care Of His Own’ loaded with lurching, grimy riffs that pepper the songs with crafty precision, the rhythm ensconced in a methodical structure of attack and release.

They may be pulling the now-familiar shapes of rock bands past, but they have avoided the trap of merely echoing the mould that bands like The Vines or Jet once slid themselves into. Instead, BOS simply refuse to pile it all into the mix at once. Rather, enigmatic gaps in the music are added, the tonal quality becomes a malleable presence, and the pace is slowed to a crawl. It’s this kind of skillful songwriting that bolsters the effectiveness of the repeated lines which become the addictive hooks to be nailed home. It’s rock with added nous: the kind last seen active in the inventive minds of The Black Keys and Nine Black Alps.

Take the the boom-boom-tiss and falling arpeggio string taps of the title track or the steady two-chord repeater-riff that pads its way through to the key hushed strapline of ‘Devil Takes Care Of His Own’. Think Joan Jett’s ‘I Love Rock n’ Roll’ getting down and dirty with AC/DC’s ‘Back In Black’ and you’ll be half-way to understanding just how powerful these songs are.

Somewhat disappointingly, surrounding these top-end tracks lies a patchwork of hit and miss. ‘Wanderluster’ walks you down a dead-end of tentative echo and formulaic patterning before insulting you with a prosaic, posted-in chorus. ‘Lies’ crumbles beneath its own assuredness, circulating a couple of times before panicking and falling on the sword of brevity. Then, stepping back on the gas, they dredge up hints of The Subways with a soul-shaking groove, as memories of deliciously playful boy-girl harmonies are reignited, for ‘You’re Not Pretty But You Got It Goin’ On’.

The pace drops toward the album’s close, allowing the listener to sink back down within Band Of Skulls’ downier side. Tracks like ‘Navigate’, where Richardson beautifully steals the mic, ‘Hometowns’ and ‘Close To Nowhere’ all shift your perceptions of where this band fit in the wider scheme of things. Marsden recently nailed it with the words “Songs are your weapons. We’re the Swiss Army Knife of bands”. They can catch you napping with a real rocker like ‘Bruises’ or effortlessly disarm you with something like ‘Hometowns” whispered, yet super-sharp line “It’s just kids having more kids for fear of being alone” which comes from behind a veil of pastoral flute and gently tinkling stringwork.

As expected then, there’s some sweet and some sour; a description with a double meaning, applicable to both the album’s emphasis and its quality. Regardless of how fast the album grows and fades from your playlist, Band Of Skulls have cracked enough noggins here to really cause an industry ruckus. The countdown to lift-off has begun; twinkling in the distance, stardom awaits to receive them.

Also online @ TLOBF = http://www.thelineofbestfit.com/2012/02/band-of-skulls-sweet-sour/