Album Review: Tracer – Spaces In Between

Let’s face it, Tracer isn’t the most inspirational moniker you could give your band. Sure, it might put one in mind of modern warfare and its associated pyrotechnics but it also conjures up images of thick pencils and translucent paper. Happily though, this Australian trio have chosen something much more promising for their album title. Spaces In Between could be an indication of their intention to come up with something fresh; a sound that lies somewhere between two different musical styles. Now that would be an ambitious project, but it appears to be one that has inspired a couple of blues brothers, who go by the name of Brown, to give it a bash.

What they have been achieving, since their formation way back in 2004, isn’t anything quite as groundbreaking but it’s certainly solid and initially engaging. With the band setting their sights first on touring their home country, then the UK and Europe, as is often the case with bands born outside the borders of America, the U.S. is the last to get a scoopful of their patching of grunge to rock n’ roll. And when I suggest one being stuck to the other I mean in a haphazard DIY way. Honestly, you could split this album in half and sell it to two different fanbases.

In the top half, “Too Much”, “The Bitch” and “Walk Alone” pull together the pounding desert rock of Queens Of The Stone Age and weld it to the raw licks of Led Zeppelin. “Louder Than This” forms a stand-out jigging howl of a track with lead vocalist Michael Brown giving it the full beans, whilst “Voice In The Rain” is the kind of soft-rocker you could pass off as Whitesnake or Thunder. Occasionally the band break out a kind of Lynyrd Skynyrd-esque frazzled country fizz which adds an edge to certain tracks, like “Push”, but generally they stick to the tried-and-trusted blues rock structures that they know and love.

More excitingly, everything from the title-track onwards begins to really settle down around a grungier sound. The warm fuzz of the bass begins to take a much more central role and the upbeat patterns turn to downbeat tones. “Dead Inside” is a Soundgarden-esque trudger that leaps right down the throat of Chris Cornell himself. “Save My Breath” and “All In My Head” walk the same line but pick up the pace. Then the power and dark heart of Audioslave come into play as Tracer throw more leads in. “I Won’t Let It Die (Run Mary)” tugs in more blues and consequently picks up a Pearl Jam meets Foo Fighters vibe.

One track, “Devil Ride” is, in my mind, an homage to that great cinematic Aussie export, Crocodile Dundee – “Boots are made from crocodile hide / Shaved my face with a hunting knife / Left my lover far behind / ‘Cos I walk the long road” – so that should be an easy entry point for all you film buffs.

Honestly though, you shouldn’t need an entry point because if you are a fan of any of the aforementioned bands then you’ll be well aware that Tracer aren’t breaking boundaries; achieving the impossible. Of course there’s an almighty lump of radio-friendly rock going on in here too and, unsurprisingly, it springs to mind that Spaces In Between is an album that wouldn’t have looked out of place 20 years ago. So yes, Tracer are unlikely to win any awards for originality anytime soon, but then it is instantly accessible, deeply grooved and comes with some pretty catchy tunes… and they did pre-warn you with that band-name of theirs – you can’t go complaining now.



Also online with sound clips @ The NewReview = http://thenewreview.net/reviews/tracer-spaces-in-between

Album Review: Fading Waves - The Sense Of Space

I first became aware of Russia’s Fading Waves when I heard their impressive contribution to Slowburn Records’ split-EP with Starchitect. With the band’s brainchild, Alexey Maximuk, working his magic, both behind the production desk and in front of it, it was his talent for songwriting that most stood out. His stark concept and bleak lyrics struck quite a chord with my own dark side. Of the seven tracks on show, most were short, sharp and yet, ultimately, incisive. So, when it came to the announcement of the band’s debut album, The Sense Of Space, it was trepidation that replaced my inital excitement when I noted there was to be only five tracks, with four of those over nine minutes in length. Could Maximuk stretch his songs that far and still achieve the same impact and clarity of vision?

Well, The Sense Of Space tries a bit of everything, opening gently with fluctuating ambient pop, before exploring the wilds of post-rock and into the chaotic worlds of progressive, doom and death metal. As the album progresses, you can hear the tracks rebounding off a series of different markers; influences that prove just how deeply Maximuk is affected by his own emotional response to music.

The elegaic introductory piece, “Air”, scuffs up the dust of Renfro, Hammock and Cloudkicker, whilst “Flashes” (featuring the distinct, lilting vocal of Anastasia Aristova wending its way around shifting patterns) marries Mono’s sense of drama to the ethereal melancholy of Katatonia. You can almost hear the gearbox grind as they yank the stick and find a progressive metal punch to match the roaring cries of Alexey Morgunov. It’s No Made Sense meets Russian Circles via Isis. Then, the foot comes back off the gas as “Perforate The Sky” and “Through The Veins” drift into view, gurning and posturing as they infliltrate the more driven realms of Pelican and The Ocean.

There’s a damaged quality to the way Morgunov’s screams have been set back in the mix, with the scaling, hollow electrics brought forward to leave the rest fighting for attention in the middle. Each instrument is given its own degree of dissonance which adds dimension, granting the music this fascinating spatial quality. Sadly, the songs themselves are far less of a fascination; development is there but, when it does occur, it’s at an agonisingly slow pace.

One oddity I wasn’t quite prepared for is the higgledy-piggledy nature of the album. Although the concept of “air, senses of flight and endless space” seems easy enough to comprehend, the implementation of it is far harder to slot into place. Each chapter here, every soundscape, seems to come from other stories, other concepts – call me ignorant, but I certainly struggled to accept The Sense Of Space as a single work of art – its more musical crazy paving! The songs also feel overly lengthy, grinding their way down blind alleys, scrambling frantically at sheer walls. Fading Waves are clearly adept at creating invasive music, music that’s emotionally-draining, but apparently struggle to maintain a decent level of consistency. So, whilst I’m delighted to say this album flies it’s flag with pride, and is still worth a listen, it’s definitely a step backwards. I fancy a return to those hit-and-run tactics they seem so good at.

5/10

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2012/02/fading-waves-the-sense-of-space-slowburn-records/

Album Review: Seether - Finding Beauty In Negative Spaces

This very week I may have suggested that bands from South Africa don‘t often reach these shores - in fact I said, and I quote, ”It’s not often you hear of bands from South Africa causing such a stir overseas.” As I write, I have in front of me a rather natty looking trilby and I’m tucking into it after every sentence. The reason? Seether are a South African hard-hitting rock trio that have been… er, how shall I put this… causing a stir overseas. They’ve notched up a jaw-dropping two million album sales so far.

After parting company with lead guitarist Pat Callaghan and vocalist Shaun Morgan going into rehab for cocaine and alcohol addictions the band have thrown themselves into the new album with Morgan admitting, “Because it was just three of us there were fewer minds to stymie the or halt the whole process. I wanted to write songs that were more melodic this time around. I didn’t feel the need to scream as I might have in the past and I felt I could have used sitars if I wanted.”

With ‘Finding Beauty In Negative Spaces’ completed it becomes their sixth studio album (if you include the one they recorded under their original name, Saron Gas) and has finally reached the UK after amassing 400,000 sales following it’s October 2007 release in the States. I imagine this has a lot to do with the extraordinary vocal of Shaun Morgan which flits between the croak and croon of Nickelback’s Chad Kroeger and the biting snarled delivery of Machine Head’s Robb Flynn. However the intricate roll and batter drum patterns of John Humphrey and Dale Stewart’s walking bass are just as bright in the mix - and with so little instrumental clutter you’d expect them to.

The fuzzed vocal opening and guitar of opener ‘Like Suicide’ is pure Nickelback, soaring into double-vocal bridge and chorus before bursting out into a red-raw scream of such intensity that lifts it to a whole new level. Its pure single material, catchy as fuck, warped enough even to dip it’s toes in nu-metal theatrics. Utterly monumentally and way beyond anything the first few bars promised. ‘Fake It’ kicks like a mule but ultimately fails to inspire trying out a few new wave effects over the rock groove that don‘t quite fit.

‘Breakdown’ and ‘Fmlyhm’ are awkward ballads and are evidence of the band’s more melodic approach. The grim out-of-place chorus of “fuck me like you hate me” on the latter proves that they haven‘t quite found a suitable home for the style. In fact it’s not until ‘No Jesus Christ’ that I find myself absorbed fully, ears popping as I gawp at the furious volley of bile spewing forth from my speakers. The didgeridoo and wobble-board opening are overlapped by Morgan’s “verbal defecation” and a screaming guitar but when we hit the chorus its grungy riffs decide that stripping skin from bone whilst the vocal slaps murky angst into our maws is best - and it is! The ever-changing nature of the song delights and troubles in equal measure. It’s a restless thing, lacking structure and eventually trickles to a listless conclusion.

This track sums up the album as a whole for me. There are moments where I truly believe it to be a possible album of the year only to find a ‘Breakdown’ or a ‘Waste’ hiding round the corner to drag it all towards a radio-friendly pile of mediocrity. Listen to ‘Rise Above This’, a song Morgan wrote about his brother before he died tragically last August. If you like that, you’ll find this new more melodic direction a revelation. The rest of us can glory when Seether stick to screaming and shake our heads disappointedly when they reach for the sitar.