Album Review: Royal Thunder – CVI

Remember the magnificent shootout finale of the Western The Good, The Bad And The Ugly? Remember the slowly-ramped tension as the combined charisma of Clint Eastwood, Lee Van Cleef and Eli Wallach sashayed into a sun-parched circle, their characters goaded by either greed or honour into a Mexican stand-off. The building drama as the camera flicked from the revealing long-shot to close-ups on the guns of each man before switching to achingly linger between each of the trio’s headshots. The sweaty forehead and panicky, flitting eyes of “Tuco” (The Ugly), the distrusting sneer and dark glances of “Angel Eyes” (The Bad) and the timeless cool and wedged cheroot of “Blondie” (The Good). The importance of Morricone’s nail-biting musical score to that scene was paramount.

The scene is replaying in my mind’s eye as I’m listening instead to the three-and-a-half minutes of agonisingly torpid, steadily-building drum rolls, the ballooning bass, the dulcet chimes and Wild West string-bends of the track “Blue”, from Royal Thunder’s debut album CVI. There are four crescendos in total here and at the climax of the last, when two of the guns fire and one of the men falls, the vocal kicks in. It makes for an interesting alternative to Morricone’s ultimately irreplaceable masterpiece.

There’s most definitely a kind of dark potency which lurks within Royal Thunder; they create mood music to inspire waking dreams such as these. The band boast an array of different styles and each roughly manages to inhabit its own character within that sun-parched circle. There are soft, emotion-inveigled, crystal-clear slowies like the “Sleeping Witch” and “Minus”, crawling, sludgy proggers like “Parsonz Curse” and “Shake And Shift”, and stone-cold rockers where the galloping drums and rolling riffs drive the music forward as the vocals suddenly begin to lose control like they do for “Whispering World” and “No Good”. Someone’s going to win this shoot-out and it’s probably going to be messy.

Mlny Parsonz’ vocal range is a huge part of what creates these factions. The fact she can go from the bluesy “Parsonz Curse”, where her vocal is at its most masculine, to the crystal clear femininity and gentility of the opening to the psych-tweaked “Drown” is jaw-dropping. One minute she’s summoning up the earthy, yet piercing quality of Robert Plant or Wolfmother’s Andrew Stockdale, using it to fend off the band’s slides back towards doom-mongering plod, and the next she’s flicked a switch, brushed off the dust, and turned herself into an Lennoxian angel (a reference to the crystalline vocal of Eurythmics’ Annie Lennox for those knowledge-seekers amongst you).

There is a small problem with CVI and the root of it lies in the way it divides its time. The top-half of the album is fast and loose, daring and boldly antagonistic, whilst the bottom-half is dark and laconic, drawing deep on the pipe of peace, blowing smoke rings around your head in an attempt to woo your soul out to play. You may equally enjoy both halves but, for the rest of us, we will tend to veer towards preferring one over the other. “South Of Somewhere” is a microcosm of this – it spends four minutes building softly from dustbowl winds, through chimes and lullabies, before ditching the ephemera to snap into a minute of howling punk rock. It’s insane.

Yet, Royal Thunder are startlingly talented. Their songwriting is ground-breakingly good because they aren’t afraid to take risks with it. CVI may not feel like an interconnected album as much as it feels like an eclectic cast line-up from a movie, but every character is fully-realised and absorbingly rich in detail. So, if you don’t completely buy into the simple beauty of “Minus”, then you surely won’t ignore the nine-and-a-half minutes of keen riffs, barbed hooks and scorchingly progressive fire that all lurk within “Shake And Shift”. There’s my gun-toting hero, right there; now I recommend you go check this out and find your own star.

Also online @ The NewReview (with samples) =  http://thenewreview.net/reviews/royal-thunder-cvi

Album Review: Opeth - Heritage

I have to confess, I’ve never quite understood Opeth’s modus operandi. Blink once and they’re soothing the soul with softly-spoken words placed carefully over dark, yet harrowing, prog rock; blink twice and they’re hacking your face off and dripping pure death into the bloodied holes with the most vitriolic, post-apocalyptic, black metal. To qualify as a bona fide Opeth fan, I suppose you really have to dig both sides of the band’s twisted dual personality. Lord knows I’ve tried to love the heavier stuff but my heart’s just not in it – I’m a Damnation man through and through. I’ve listened to album after album and gone to show after show but I always end up either skipping tracks or ducking for cover whilst others go apeshit in front of me. A part of me strongly suspects there are others who share my theory but I doubt, just as much, that they are willing to support it. Well, if you are out there, folks, this one’s for you.

Heritage is a milestone for Opeth, their tenth album, and this time there are no death growls. They have clearly marked the occasion with a change of direction that they discovered whilst writing for their last album, Watershed. It’s something Opeth haven’t tried since Damnation, oddly enough; yet even that album’s clean lines can’t compare to the streaky rhythms and ethereal hues that this one carries. In that sense, it’s more likely to occasionally draw comparison to the bleak wasteland portrayed in Still Life. It’s intensely gothic in places, and startlingly barren in others, but it always seems to, like much of Opeth’s proggier material, peel back the layers and bury itself deep into your brain.

Producing the album himself, frontman Mikael Åkerfeldt has stripped back the guitars and vocals, leaving an opaque imprint that will both fascinate and challenge all-comers. From its title-track with solemnly authoritative piano underpinned by double-bass to “Marrow Of The Earth” with plucked acoustic and electric guitars intertwined in a balletic play of notes, know that Heritage is Opeth in the raw. Or, to put it all a little more poetically, from a silent classroom to a mere breath on a mirror.

It comes as absolutely no surprise to see Steven Wilson’s involvement either – you can almost sense the man’s energy and hear his influence steaming off of some of these tracks. In places, it’s easy to mistake Åkerfeldt’s vocal for Wilson’s own croon, whilst the opening crawling guitar riff and layered background fills within “I Feel The Dark” would nestle quite happily next to quite a few of Porcupine Tree’s tracks – only when Opeth hammer in those gloom-stained changes of key, do they stamp their own distinctive personality on this.

There’s plenty of fuzzed guitar and warbling keys in the tight twists and loops of “The Devil’s Orchard”, all of which leads you, tellingly, to the hooked climbing chorus and and its delayed tolling follow-through. Then, those rumbling rhythms are back again for the head-nodding vibe of “Slither”. Both drag forth echoes of Deep Purple, Yes and Led Zeppelin, whilst the thick guitar tone at the end of “Häxprocess” recalls Gary Moore. Of course, the jazz flute hiding in the loosely-structured “Famine” could only tweak memories of Jethro Tull in their prime. Perhaps it is these moments that give the album its aged feel, almost like it had been written some time ago and stored like a fine wine to mature, but it is a thought that’s solidified by the album’s perfectly-weighted title. Maybe it has after all, especially since Åkerfeldt commented in his press release that he’d been wanting to write “an album like this since I was 19″. I can see him now, as an eager young man, ferreting away ideas.

There are brief moments where the jazzy elements begin to overwhelm the quietly brooding core, during “Häxprocess” and again for “Famine”, but they are mere branches within the flow of Heritage‘s crystal-clear waters. Don’t dwell on this thought because familiarity will undoubtedly be followed by acceptance. Instead, let me leave you with a description of the magnificent “Folklore”. It’s a track that dives at you in waves; rises to glorious peaks on galloping basslines and sinks into hardier sections which twinkle and glimmer like candlelight in a vast, lavishly-decorated Viking hall. It leaves me smiling blissfully every time. Each track paints a picture, tells a story, and that’s all you can ask for in an Opeth album. I don’t think it’s got the kind of overwhelmingly addictive personality that Damnation exuded, but I do think for all those lovers of Opeth’s lighter side, they have provided some classy food for the soul and that means they can rest easy. Heritage is already a part of the furniture; something to cherish for a long time to come.

Also online @ The NewReview (with samples) = http://thenewreview.net/reviews/opeth-heritage

Album Review: MonstrO - MonstrO

Atlanta’s MonstrO brings together a group with a bit of a potted history of previous bands. On the face of it you’ve got a pretty exciting line-up of straight-up, hard rockers with bassist Kyle Sanders (Bloodsimple, Skrew, Medication), drummer Bevan Davies (Bloodsimple, Danzig, Jerry Cantrell), guitarist Juan Montoya (Torche, Floor, Cavity) and vocalist/guitarist Charlie Suarez (Sunday Driver). Have a quick listen to what they’ve stirred up with this, their self-titled debut long-player, though and you’ll quickly come to the conclusion that there’s more to these boys than first meets the eye.

There’s a word for what MonstrO have given us here. Lord Of The Rings’ Gollum would know the word. It’s a “tricksy” little album that promises one thing and ends up delivering so much more. Oh, how it twists and turns and dumbfounds us. Suarez, thankfully has a good explanation for its choppy nature. “I would like MonstrO to inspire like the bands who changed my life and inspired me to play music when I was 12 years old. Each song stands on its own in regards to topic but the themes of the songs individually jump from one end of the spectrum to the other.” It’s a statement that only hints at the vast diversity of styles that lurk within. Never before have I heard a band go from sounding like Wolfmother one minute to echoing Tool the next; from Jane’s Addiction to Shrinebuilder in one swift, seemingly effortless leap.

As bands like Jet and Black Stone Cherry have successfully done before them, MonstrO feed off, and bring up to date, those clambering classic rock tones that their 60s/70s forbears seemed to chuck around at will – Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple, Bad Company. You’ll hear echoes of the past in both the Wolfmother-esque “Concertina” and “Stallone” but through it all they retain this inimitable poppy quality to their music. There’s also flavours of Alice In Chains (not surprising seeing as their vocalist William DuVall’s got involved on the production side of things as well as contributing to vocal back-up on “Concertina”), QOTSA and Pearl Jam coming across in either the vocal inflections or the probing string-work. They also have an ability to flick into a massive wall of driving thunder, as excellently demonstrated in both “Anchors Up!” and “Solar”, that current bands like The Sword, Priestess and Saviours are so brilliant at. This is exactly the point that you’d expect them to stop inventing and settle, but they have designs on championing many more passions of theirs. Thus, we get the downtuned drop into “Olympia” and “Helios” which sees them suddenly switch off the groove as they begin to delve into more ambient realms. Then, tracks like “Apollo” and “Elizabeth” generate yet another level of more proggy, doom-afflicted caves for you to invade, inhabit and make your own.

As Suarez suggests it truly does kick up these dusty echoes of bands we have loved through our youth. Perhaps it’s my age, but I found the stoned affectations and persuasive lyrics of songs like the bucking “Helios” and the light-headed psychedelics of “April” rapping gently on the windows of my soul. Each track grows on you with every listen, but you may have to adjust your perception of what this band actually is, track-by-track. It’s likely that you’ll be more quickly on board with either the speedier fast half of the album or the more exploratory second half as there is a marked division that they should probably concentrate on smoothing over for future releases. With regards to trying to put this album into a pigeon-hole, it’s certainly a “tricksy” prospect and one I don’t suggest you focus on. Instead, let the music flow over you and MonstrO may just become something you eventually refer to, as Gollum would, as “my precious”.

Also online @ The NewReview (with samples) = http://thenewreview.net/reviews/monstro-monstro

Album Review: Unearth - Darkness In The Light

Unearth have always showcased plenty of hardcore clout; so much so that the schisms of metal that lie beneath often come in a good second place. I’ve always thought this to be something of a shame when you consider the freewheeling talent that they have at their disposal in the form of inseparable brothers-in-arms Buz McGrath and Ken Susi (so inseparable are they, that I tend to think of them as one entity – “Boozi”). These string-shredding demons know how to attain, maintain and entertain and this is the secret behind the band being so much better live than their albums may initially suggest. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen “Boozi” perform their trademark dual backflips, axe tosses, vertical spit and catches and multiple strap spins. So when you hear their work so often buried in the mix, as it is here, then it’s something to get angry about.

Listening to the colossal hammer blows that stand-in drummer Justin Foley (Killswitch Engage) manages to squeeze out, and hearing the combination of that with Trevor Phipps new-improved, throat-ripping vocals, you can fully understand why go-to producer Adam Dutkiewicz put the brutal, rhythmic onslaught first on his list of priorities. Yes, I did say “new-improved.” It turns out Phipps’ straight-up honesty knows no bounds – describing his efforts for 2008′s The March, he admits “…that’s probably my worst vocal performance… so this time I was like, fuck man, I really need to knuckle down.” The result is a relentless onslaught of absolute aggression, yet he still seems resistant to expand into lows and highs; stuck in that one-dimensional skin-stripping howl of his. That’s where Ken Susi’s lungs come in to play and here he offers more of the startlingly enigmatic cleans that he last showcased for 2006′s The Oncoming Storm.

One thing is for certain, this is without doubt the most instantly accessible Unearth album to date. The majority of song-titles form the core of the chorus, so singing along just won’t be an option this time around. The hooks are out of this world and the breakdowns are just fucking enormous – “Watch It Burn”, “Coming Of The Dark” and “The Fallen” are destined to create legendary pits. We haven’t heard gut-drops like this since “Endless” and “This Lying World” lit up The Oncoming Storm like a pair of open grenades bursting forth from a box of nails. “Arise The War Cry” is almost at Max Cavalera standards of neanderthal ferocity, whilst “Watch It Burn” builds up such a monstrous head of steam that when the cyclical lyric “Burn your eyes on the setting sun” kicks in you can only think of Hatebreed as being anything like this vitriolic.

The guitars, despite being left behind at times, still pile out these shafts of euphoric light. Onto the power metal speed solos, jagged shreds and skidding chord sequences, we can now pin swaggering swamp riffery, which comes in the form of southern-spiked groover “Eyes Of Black”. They stand out mainly where the tracks ache for them most of all – tracks such as “Overcome” and the intrusively personal “Last Wish” inspired by Phipps’ experiences of close friends ending up on life support – “This life soon will come to an end / I’ll leave with my convictions”.

It’s important that we hear Susi’s emotive cadence again. His uplifting input is particularly effective on tracks “Watch It Burn” and “Overcome”, though it would have been great to hear him on more. But, alas, Unearth want you pinned down where they can get at you. You want proof? Just tune in to the no-holds-barred lyrics on final track “Disillusion” – “Lies! You fucking failed me”. In fact, “Equinox” is their only surrender to a change of pace and even that refuses to lie down, as the tinkling piano suggests it might, the build instead giving Phipps the opportunity to turn it into a crushing monster – “There’s no way out, there’s no way out”, he yells showing the band’s clear intentions. He recently pointed out “There’s a bunch of bands out there that are all trying to get in the spotlight, so it’s a case of fight or die, and our fists are flying, man.” Using brute force will only get them so far, so they may have to start seeking a more cerebral method of attack in the near future. However, if it’s brawn you’re looking for, you’ve most certainly come to the right place.

Also online @ The New Review = http://thenewreview.net/reviews/unearth-darkness-in-the-light

The full album stream is available here for a limited time.

Album Review: Scar Of The Sun – A Series Of Unfortunate Concurrencies

So, here we have a band-name that tricks you into imagining a stoner/doom metal outfit and an album title that sounds like it comes from a macabre children’s work by Lemony Snicket. I must admit I was expecting something grimly dark to emerge from this, but actually found something conversely bright and breezy. It’s full of tenacity and bristling melodrama which Scar Of The Sun achieve by blending driven rock with melodic power metal and some determined progressive touches. There’s plenty of other influences lurking in there; in fact, a whole safari park of genres. Unfortunately, most of them end up clashing in a desperate attempt to be the alpha male and the end result, while being emphatically bold in concept, is a disappointing menagerie of loud animal noises.

Terry Nikas’ impressively clean, flamboyant peacock vocal is both a blessing and a curse and with the wall of gritty sound that fires off behind it, you certainly won’t miss it’s impact. Neither will you miss the guest vocal from Dark Tranquillity’s Mikael Stanne – he does that guttural second vocal that pops up for the somewhat messy “Ode To A Failure” (several of the song-titles are charmingly self-deprecating, yet no less prophetic). When you consider the Greek’s natural affinity to bands like Paradise Lost and Katatonia, it’s not a surprise to hear the cleans, but the surprisingly tuneless, grizzly bear gargles you will struggle to comprehend. It’s perhaps their attempt to connect with bands like the aforementioned Dark Tranquillity and Sonic Syndicate but, without successfully having nailed down a more aggressive sound to back it, such theatrics come off sounding pretty dire.

With names like Rhys Fulber and Greg Reely (both notable for their work with Paradise Lost, Fear Factory and Machine Head) helping to monkey around with the sound of the album, it’s no surprise that the backline is so accurate. The smack of the snare, the rumbling kick pedal, the resonantly symphonic wash of the keyboards, the razor-sharp solos, gritty chugs and riffs are all dialed in beautifully. When they combine for a spot of gorilla-chest beating, Scar Of The Sun even begin to share character traits with Iced Earth and Grand Magus. There’s also plenty of centre-shifting as they make the music wrap itself around your head – it’s a great album to play through your headphones. Only that efficiently clean vocal struggles to consistently keep up with the punch. They’ve tried doubling it up as much as possible, adding reverb and dropping the bass down. They load it with effects for the title-track and the catchy “Gravity” with some neat programming touches and this is where it seems to hold it’s own, but on tracks that come in fits and starts (like the uber-thrashy “8th Ocean Dried”, “Disciple Of The Sun” and “A Pause In The Disaster” with it’s achingly slothful delivery and odd mid-track, half-beat lope) it feels too far detached from the music.

Despite this, the latter half of the album fares better than the first, and the emphatic rise and fall of “Burn The Memory” and the main bulk of “I Lost” go some way to crashing home just how effortlessly vast this band can sound when they don’t try to overcomplicate matters. Inevitably, their meddling with song structures is really where this crazy album falls down most obviously. Their tendency to ride roughshod over genres without genuinely getting to grips with any one of them is infuriating. It leads one to speculate that maybe this so-called “series of unfortunate concurrences” is Scar Of The Sun’s way of admitting this fact. If you still like the principle idea of a crossover band that provide a chameleon-like pacing, giving you both an instant hit and an emotive journey, there are so many better musical zoos you can visit than this one.

Also online @ The New Review = http://thenewreview.net/reviews/scar-of-the-sun-a-series-of-unfortunate-concurrencies

Album Review: Amon Amarth - Surtur Rising

So, I’m intrigued. If I purchase the limited deluxe CD/DVD digibook version of Amon Amarth’s latest offering, I get this 14cm tall ‘Surtur’ action figure. It certainly looks pretty cool but does it have eagle eyes, detachable weaponry and an opposable thumb? If not, I can see thousands of Viking wannabes being pretty bummed out. It’s certainly not the first time we’ve seen an album sold with an accompanying (ahem) dolly, and I imagine it won’t be the last, but this a frikkin’ Norse god we’re talking about here. At the end of the day, I’m not quite convinced that it’s a viable selling point anyway – I certainly can’t see it being a deal-breaker. 14 measly centimetres? I suppose the band/label are working on the basis that if the album is a bit sucky then it’ll be nice for their fans to have something to beat up their plastic Ken with – oh yes, Barbie’s in for a bit of a shock when she gets home from her modelling job tonight!

With Surtur Rising though, they really needn’t have bothered. It’s an absolute brute of an album. Starting at the top, the artwork is absolutely stunning. It depicts Surtur who, according to Norse mythology, is the leader of the fire giants of Muspelheim. The legend goes that when he lights his sword in the Eternal Flame, he will be given the power to raze the nine worlds before him. He’s clearly one mean dude and artist Tom Thiel has captured him in such glorious colour that it paints the perfect picture (excuse the pun) to go with Amon Amarth’s menacingly dark, powerfully emotive, pungently thematic heavy metal.

“War Of The Gods” picks up right where Twilight Of The Thunder God left off with bludgeoning double-kick and chunky, jagged riffs. The band’s very own Thor, Johan Hegg, blasts forth with a mighty, deathly vocal that echoes thickly over the climbing guitars to create an incendiary wall-of-noise. If anything it’s an even heavier sound than before with the vocal knocked back a peg to allow for the atmosphere to build and the drums to truly hit their mark. Same producer, same studio, but a definite change of tack. Hegg has said “We thought we needed it to be a bit more aggressive and rougher than the previous two. We wanted a harder, tougher sound and I definitely think we got that.”

“Töck’s Taunt – Loke’s Treachery Part II” is a step back into a more epic, black-edged sound, and hails the return of the god of treachery (he was first encountered on 2006′s With Oden On Our Side). Have a dig around and you’ll find out that the band “basically deal with Loke’s actual deceit … when he totally told the gods to go fuck off.” You gotta love the Swede’s commitment to their subject matter. I won’t bore you further with backgrounds to the song-titles, but suffice to say it’s all pretty far out there.

All you really need to know is you’ve got an album here that, at times, malevolently rages and, at others, provides thought-provoking progressions. “A Beast Am I” and “Destroyer Of The Universe” are much in the former category, heavy on the thrash, light on their feet, whilst “The Last Stand Of Frej” and “Doom Over Dead Man” are yawning, doom-afflicted prowlers that screw themselves slowly into place, smothering their prey to the point of suffocation – that’s not to say they don’t kick up the odd chiming solo or orchestral flourish. There also lurks within the call-to-arms battle metal melodics of “Live Without Regrets” and “For Victory Or Death” – the latter’s title and fighting spirit instantly bringing 1998′s “A Victorious March” to mind.

There’s much to admire here then but, for some reason, there’s still not anything you’d describe as compulsively addictive, unlike so many tracks on their last two albums. Every time I take a breather away from absorbing this, I find myself whistling Iron Maiden’s “Wasted Years”. Now that can’t be right. There is a vague similarity there but this sounds more like Maiden would if they grew big, unkempt beards and started living out of garbage bins. If you’ve never heard of Amon Amarth you might want to try a bit of their back catalogue first, but if you are already fans then there is no doubting you will be right on board. Oh, and if you do decide to break your piggy-bank for the action figure, please let us know if it comes with a pull-cord and a variety of built-in phrases (“Feel my fiery wrath, Æsir!” or “Onward to Ragnarök!”, perhaps) or a sword that bursts into flame at the touch of a button. Now that would be cool.

Also online @ The New Review (with 10-track samples) = http://thenewreview.net/reviews/amon-amarth-surtur-rising

Interview: The Chariot

The Chariot are touring the UK and, with so many stories of brutal past shows, you can almost sense Nottingham Rock City holding it’s breath. Holed up backstage in the semi-darkness, TNR finds Chariot bassist Jon Kinder, who we get introduced to simply as ‘Wolf’ by their enigmatic, cool-as-fuck front man, Josh Scogin. ‘Wolf’ seems somewhat preoccupied with his phone, possibly hacking his way into some secret government database… or texting his better half, but Josh is more than happy to field awkward questions whilst the support band do their damnedest to drown out his answers.

You’ve got a mad touring schedule this time around. How’s it going?
It’s going good. We actually did two full rotations of the US before we came over here so we’ve gone from, like, the 3rd of January, and we had like about three days off, but that’s why we’re in a band – to play shows.

That’s a heck of a schedule. And Australia next?
Yeah, Australia and then we’re gonna try and do Japan and China all back-to-back. We’re really excited.

Are you getting good reactions to the new songs?
Yeah, the kids seem to like it. The critics seem to be on board with this album as well which we’ve never really experienced before. We don’t really write music for them but it’s still kinda nice. I don’t know why but it’s good not to read negative stuff.

Have you got any favourite venues?
It’s difficult to answer that because I usually think of, like, the show. So the venue might be nitty and gritty but the show is so fun, you’ll be like “this place rules,” but if you just walked into it with no people there you’d be like “this place is wack.”

There must be some gigs where the fan-base always show up?
Definitely. Chain Reaction, Anaheim, California is definitely one of those. Atlanta, ‘cos it’s our hometown. Dallas, Texas, The Door – that place is always packed, always fun.

And tonight you appear to be in the same venue as a Viking metal band. Is that a first for you guys?
Josh: Not really. Where’s Behemoth from? We’ve toured with them before. I guess they’re not Vikings but they dress up and everything.
Wolf (suddenly looks up): That same tour was with GWAR, so we’ve been… amongst… that… type. (Laughs)

You saw all the Turisas facepaint then?
Yeah, I saw the line and I thought I wish they were here for us!

You released your latest album, Long Live, a few months back – tons of feedback, polyrhythms aplenty. Was it the aim to make it as chaotic as that?
I don’t think it’s ever a pre-planned thing. It just happened as we were writing it. I think we all have A.D.D. or something. We get bored quick. So we move on. We don’t aim to chop it up or put in a pop song or put in a radio jingle. It’s just we have a riff and we play it and like it and then we get bored of it and then we throw in a radio jingle about Atlanta. Just different things to sort of shock the senses to keep us interested and hopefully keep the listener interested. Keep it fresh. No-one wants to hear me scream for 10 tracks. Even after we’ve recorded it we’ll chop songs in half for our live show or throw three different songs together to keep us on out toes.

The vocal aggression is pretty out there. It’s less gruff but more scathing. Was that the extreme effect you were going for – rough some skulls up?
I just kinda go with the music. I have a lot of cool lyrics floating around but, at the end of the day, it’s the music of that individual song that leads me to do what I do. The music speaks for itself and tells me how passionate or aggressive it needs to come. My screaming is a by-product. When I’m in the studio I just go for it. I don’t do punch-ins or anything, I usually just do one or two takes.

What kind of subject matter are you exploring on the album?
A lot of it ended up being like a ‘thank you’ record. It’s our fourth record and a lot of bands don’t make it that far, so it became like a grateful record, a very thankful record. Everyone who’s given us a place to stay, every person who’s taken care of us, everyone who’s come to a show, purchased a CD, whatever. And of course Long Live ties into that because it can be long live [insert name here] or whoever you wanna put at the end of that. We couldn’t do that without these people.

So the names on the album were there for that exact reason, hence the competition you ran?
Well we wanted to name five names that were real people who like our band, but how do you chose between them. So we literally had a small competition and whoever won they would be the ones that would represent. I mean, I wish we could have done a CD with a thousand titles and then we could name everybody.

So that begs the question how important you feel a song-title is and whether it should always marry to the lyrics?
Song-titles are very, very important to me. When I write lyrics that’s its own thing. I don’t necessarily need a title to cobble to that thing. I look at it as “here’s the lyrics – they can tell one story; here’s the title – that can tell another story.” On one of our previous albums, The Fiancée, all the song-titles go together to make a lyrical stanza – “Back To Back” “They Faced Each Other” “They Drew Their Swords” “And Shot Each Other.” It’s not like a pop record is with “here’s the chorus” and “here’s the title.” I really try to make those as important as the lyrics themselves.

You recorded it all live using magnetic analog tape. What was the thinking behind that?
Everything is just more natural that way. When we practice the songs we’re practicing them together, when we do them live we’re doing them all together, so when we do it in tracks it’s very… not natural, y’know? You’re trying to play guitar to this wave file. It’s fine but it’s just a lot easier to throw it all down together. You’re all looking at each other and we’re able to throw it down like that. It’s more natural, more organic, it’s just easier. Why would you practice the song, like, a 1000 times before you go in the studio and then separate everybody? Why did you do that? Now I’ve said that, we’ll probably never do it again. (Wry smile)

It’s actually pretty cool because there are all sorts of little oddities that pop up, like cleans and samples, in the mix. Was everything deliberate or were they things you only discovered afterwards?
Little bit of both. Certain things we wanted to make sure were in there and then other things happened by accident or in the middle of recording, like an idea. We were recording track four, “The City”… the whole ending was completely different when we were recording it and just out of nowhere someone said “I think we can make something better than that ending” and so we went in an fiddled around and within an hour we had a whole ending part. So we ended up tracking the song the next day and about 30/40 friends of ours gathered around a mic and when we got to that part they jumped into it. It’s kind of a one-way train – never look back. Very spontaneous, go with your gut instinct. I can’t even remember how the song used to go.

You talk about it being spontaneous but when you came to do the video for “David De La Hoz” you did it all in one shot. That must have taken a hell of a lot of planning. Hard to do?
It should have been really hard, but it wasn’t like a pre-conceived idea in the sense that we didn’t have a director come in with a budget or anything. We were literally sitting around one day eating and we were like, “well, we’re be recording the song live anyway so we should film it like that” – like “that’s the shot, that’s the one that we used.” So someone said “well it’s gonna be pretty boring watching us play live in one room so why don’t we put the drums in the kitchen?” and then someone said “oooh, well if we’re gonna do that, let’s do this and do this” and so it just ended up becoming it’s own entity. We were aware that at the end we could just hit delete and nobody would see it, so we weren’t worried or stressed or anything if it failed. So we got a friend in with a video camera and we walked him through it. An hour before we shot it we were still making monumental changes – “we should end outside”, “what we gonna do then?”, “well let’s have balloons” and then we changed the start so I say “release the balloons” and people are like “what’s that for?” and the reveal comes later. It was all very spontaneous. Somebody could have said “hit delete” at any time and we’d have done it and walked away. (Laughs) But ‘cos it was live, when we were done we could watch it immediately. It was like “this is awesome.” Even though the dude’s headphones fall off we were like “leave that, we don’t care about that.” It’s all part of it. It’s played by real humans, without robots, without ‘copy/paste’, without ProTools. It’s actually a very good representation of how the record came about and how we get bored and how we play live.

It is one thing I recommend to people, especially when we’re dicking about on YouTube – “You need to see this particular video. One take!”
Thank you. That’s awesome, man.

I’d love to know what kind of music you listened to growing up?
I was blessed with a father who listened to a lot of good music. He listened to a lot of classic rock, loved the Beatles, Lynyrd Skynyrd. Not too trendy, but quality bands. I actually had a good palette to drive from. Because of that I listened to a lot of ‘performance’ bands – the James Browns, the Jerry Lee Lewis’s. Later, I got into some heavier stuff. Some Pantera, early Deftones. All the kind of bands you have to see live. Really, it just opened all the doors. Just because you recorded a record, doesn’t mean you have to sing those songs verbatim. When I looked to start a band, the roots that come from classic rock, even the motown stuff, the performances, that’s what I wanted to do. If you want to hear the record then go listen to that. It’ll be note for note perfect. That’s what a lot of the metal heads want. That’s not our band. That’s not what we’re doing. We’re trying to create a new moment, a new vibe, then and there.

And so because you are now in your own band where the performance is so key that people recommend you as a band you must catch live, does that make you proud?
Yeah, absolutely. Anytime anybody recommends what you do, it’s going to be humbling and flattering all at the same time.

Josh, thank you for talking to us.
Awesome. Thank you so much.

Also online @ The NewReview = http://thenewreview.net/interviews/the-chariot

Gig Review = http://johnskibeat.blogspot.com/2011/03/gig-review-chariot-nottingham-rock-city.html

Gig Review: The Chariot - Rock City, Nottingham 19/3/11

Day three of the latest Chariot European tour, which itself is wedged in between their travails around North America and Australia. This is, clearly, one of the hardest working live acts out there so, although it’s still a privilege to witness them tear Rock City a new ass, the evening has this nagging air of inevitability about it. Me, them, bedlam. I’ll throw the horns at that.

Tonight, we are invaded by painted Vikings with plastic swords as the venue pits two tours against each other. Upstairs in the larger room we have Crimfall and Turisas, the latter sounding oddly lacklustre without accordion-player Netta Skog but still well supported. Down in the dirty basement lurk the fiery hardcore kids who’ve come to see MyChildren MyBride and The Chariot. The former were certainly sounding pretty fucking heavy as I sat and tried to interview Chariot vocalist Josh Scogin over the mayhem, but now it’s later and we’re both stage-side watching bassist Jon ‘Wolf’ Kindler and drummer David Kennedy go through a series of warm-up exercises.

It’s the very first note in anger that we truly realise what we’re in for here. With stunned faces all around me, I watch as ‘Wolf’ turns and hurls his bass into the crowd, following it in to retrieve it just moments later. In all my years of gig-going, I’ve never seen someone do that on the first note. There wasn’t even a proper pit formed yet! From that point on, anything goes. The show becomes an absolute free-for-all and that’s just the way The Chariot like it.

Describing this quintet’s music to a casual observer would be tough but (and please excuse my inexact grasp on the subject) I’d go for the words: Chaos theory. It’s exactly that. Sonically, on occasions, everything all hooks up and you can get a good neck workout, but the component parts (the periodic orbits if you will) all immediately split and go there separate ways just as quickly as they all came together and chaos ensues again. Visually, it’s exactly the same. There are moments when they are all face-front, hammering out their destructively cantankerous hardcore as a unit, but then one-by-one they all turn and start scaling furniture, jumping up wildly, yanking at their respective instruments, falling over. Chaos.

Two minutes later and the first mic has gone – torn from its lead and discarded. Scogin grabs hold of the backing mic, screams bloody murder into it until the drums cave and the guitars dig in, at which point he lobs it to the ground like it’s wronged him in a past life. “David De La Hoz” fires up and he frantically retrieves it only to loft it over the metal ducting above and swing it back and forth whilst he bellows into it with each pass. All around him, the rest of the band show similar disdain for their beloved equipment. More evidence of a life spent on the road. ‘Wolf’s bass, in particular, looks like it’s been stripped of its paint which, considering how often it goes over the barrier, is no surprise.

Kennedy is suddenly up and kneeling on his drumstool; his adjusted action bringing his elbows up high around his ears. A glance to the right and the seemingly omnipresent ‘Wolf’ has mounted the bar whilst below him Brandon Henderson is yanking his guitar up and down, back and forth; hurling himself into impossible shapes. Out front, the pit is small but violent, encouraged by Scogin’s exhortations that “tonight is all about being free” and how their new album, Long Live, is “a tribute to them”. Every now and then fans, some with cameras, begin to find the courage to join the band on stage, one lingering too long before an utterly overwhelmed member of security takes a small, pensive step forwards.

With an Orange amp either side of the drumkit (the bass sound tonight is mighty) there are several moments when it feels like the shockwaves may lift you off your feet. ‘Wolf’ is certainly enjoying it from his lofty perch on top of the speakers, freaking us out as he considers dangling from the glitterball overhead. A brief pause gives Scogin the chance to step front and centre and stare us down. “This has been my favourite show of the tour so far”, he says with a wry smile knowing that it’s only their third date. And with the line “from the first day of the tour people have been shouting for this song” we are thrust into the spasmodic heart of “Yanni Depp” – “NOVOCAINE!” we yell in unison and the huge, heaving breakdown is met by punching fists and flying feet.

By the end, the venue is laid to waste, the audience are ashen-faced and sweat-slicked from their efforts, the floor is littered with broken items, parts of the roof hang loose, an expensive-looking camera has taken a battering, clothing has been discarded at the corners and there, in the centre of the stage lies a mangled and lifeless microphone. All are symbolic of tonight’s wonderful, joyous, brilliant chaos.

Also online @ The NewReview = http://thenewreview.net/show-reviews/the-chariot-nottingham-uk

Article: Tips For New Bands

This article may be a straight-shooter but it's an absolute godsend for helping small bands survive, thrive and succeed.

It finally cuts through all the bullshit and tells you what you needed to hear all along. Live by it.

Article link = http://thenewreview.net/blog/tips-for-new-bands-or-how-to-impress-us

Album Review: Weedeater – Jason…The Dragon

Here we have a band that literally shot themselves in the foot. Okay, it was a whole year ago and it was just vocalist/bassist “Dixie” Dave Collins who pointed his shotgun in the wrong direction when cleaning it, but it’s such a brilliant anecdote I can’t help but compulsively titter when I think of ol’ Nine-Toes “Dixie”.

More of a shot in the arm than a shot in the foot, Jason…The Dragon is the North Carolina sludge-monster’s fourth album and it pretty much picks up where their last release, God Speed And Good Luck, left off. Like its predecessor, its core is composed of the heaviest, brain-crushing dissonance. Fat bass collides with guitar strikes that seem to decompose the millisecond they are released. If you were being unfair, you’d say it sounded like a never-ending row of farting cows; you can almost picture their wet pats hitting and sliding down the walls in great thick clumps. Then, as before, amongst doom-laden rock plods like “Hammerhandle”, “Long Gone” or “Turkey Warlock” you’ll suddenly come across gentle, acoustic country-boy numbers like “Whiskey Creek” bloated with plucking banjo and the sound of pouring rain or the abhorrent needle clicks and insanely burbling vocal of the repetitious “Palms of Opium”; tracks that seem diametrically opposed to their neighbors. This isn’t so much sludge as it is stoner rock blasted through with noise, as much country as it is doom-infected Americana.

“Mancoon” is definitely a highlight, rich with rumbling drums and gurgling riffage; the tone may be disconcertingly unvarying, but the chorus will be enough to get even the coldest of souls nodding gently along. That and the false-starting slow build of the thundering title-track with its scathing vocal delivering comedically blunt lyrics (“I’m right behind you, you smell like fuck”) are enough to make this an album worth holding onto.

Having said that, you’ll find as you progress through, that it all appears very difficult to get to grips with, like they’ve been smoking one of their song-titles, and yet the full extent of its eccentricities (don’t even get me started on the befuddling hidden track) only become apparent once the final piece locks into place. Even without this filler material (ahem) shooting itself in the foot, the running-time would be a little mean. It may not be the prettiest of albums then but, trust me, it’ll grow on you. That’s not to say you’ll end up loving it like one of your own. Jason…The Dragon is quite possibly the redneck second cousin you think is quite cool, but are never allowed to speak of.

Also online @ The NewReview (with track samples) = http://thenewreview.net/reviews/weedeater-jason-the-dragon

Album Review: Kvelertak - Kvelertak

Kvelertak’s debut album has been kicking up a storm in Europe since the middle of last year, with U.S. fans catching only a faint backdraft of hearsay about these killer Norwegian punks every now and then. Finally, this month, it gets a proper North American release (and accompanying tour) and, for those of you who like big, brash, abrasive music and haven’t yet heard it, this is going to blow you away.

What this all means is I get another chance to big up one of the surprise debut albums of last year. I could start by using this space to remind you of all the other newbies you may have missed around the same time; folks like England’s Lower Than Atlantis or Sweden’s No Hawaii or even the stunning shot in the arm that Quebec’s Barn Burner presented us with, but that would be remiss of me.

This is all about six different blokes, with six different music tastes, making incredibly bruising punk and hardcore music, riddled with rock n’ roll affectations, that will have you name-checking straight-up noisy bastards like Black Flag and Refused one minute, Fu Manchu and Bison B.C. the next, before you move on to, say, Kylesa and Coliseum, then Purified In Blood and Enslaved. To be honest the list of bands that this lot remind me of, in turns, is endless.

One thing is for sure – the album benefits from being dialed up until you can feel the bass rattling your brain (at which point the old dude downstairs will start using his broom-handle to redecorate his ceiling). Don’t stop, keep turning it up until the drums start to make your teeth chatter (the dogs in the neighborhood should now be barking in unison). Basically you want it up where the scorched vocals of Erlend Hjelvik start to peel the wallpaper from the walls and the cops start hammering down your door. If you can hear it cave-in as the battering ram connects, it ain’t loud enough.

Put simply, Kvelertak, an apt Norwegian word meaning stranglehold, has thick meaty grooves, is ripped through with buzzing power chords and is bathed in an all-encompassing, scathing screamo. Within the melee, you’ll catch hints of something else, maybe stoner or black metal (“Liktorn”, I’m looking at you) and this leads to the album stretching out, getting steadily more epic as it progresses. The lyrics, all in their native language, generally explore the subjects of Norse folklore, tradition and mythology that are specifically related, playfully, back to members of the band. Hell, you won’t understand them anyway and you won’t care a jot. When they sing about the time when Bjarte forgot to pick Erlend up from band practice, you’ll be kicking seven shades of shit out of your own bedroom wall.

As they did with their early demos, they’ve again rounded up a few friends to help out, dragging in guest appearances from Andreas Tylden (JR Ewing), Hoest (Taake) and Ryan McKenney (Trap Them). You’ll get to hear Nattefrost (Carpathian Forest) spitting blackened venom into “Fossegrim” as the band behind him spew out a volley of rock n’ roll, all bent up with wickedly catchy, riffed licks. You’ll marvel as Ivar Nikolaisen (Silver) roars bloody murder at “Blodtørst” and listen in stunned silence as the band proceed to pound him into submission with a bass-driven force that magically splits open to reveal some warping, acoustic stringwork that tips its stained hat at The Who. And yet they are so much more. “Sultans Of Satan” is just one example – it’s a harum-scarum gang-chanted plod that flowers into a transparently melodic and fantastically addictive chorus, yet has a whole, brazenly psychedelic, nakedly old-school, cavalcade of material to follow that fleshes it out to bursting point.

This is live music bottled – I’d swear you can actually smell the smoke pouring from the cabs. You get this sense that every single band member is bouncing off the walls, and each other, as they play. It may be that bit too raw or too base for some but, for those with a strong constitution, you’ll be aping the band’s energy levels and, by the end of the relatively-reserved nod-a-thon that is final track “Utrydd Dei Svake”, you’ll be staring in awe at Baroness’ John Dyer Baizley’s superb artwork, frantically flipping it over in a fruitless search for lyrics to join in with, and panting and sweating just as vehemently. And that won’t even be the end; both a blessing and a curse – value for money generally adds on a pair of love-handles. All the same, this new release features a heap of, even-more unhinged and somewhat swarthier, BBC session and demo versions of the tracks within. Oh boy, are you in for a treat, America.

Also online with samples @ The NewReview = http://thenewreview.net/reviews/kvelertak-kvelertak

Album Review: DevilDriver - Beast

Usually at some point, a band will hit a wall. It could be because a change of personnel or record label leads to new impetus or it could be that they want to go conceptual for an album; perhaps they want to improve themselves; maybe create something fresh, inspiring, outlandish, or simply that they’ve run out of ideas. Whatever the reason, in general, said band will either down tools and turn tail in frustration or find a way around or over that damnable wall. In DevilDriver’s case they’ve dispensed with getting cerebral and, instead, simply bought themselves a big-assed tank and they’re gonna roll straight on through.

The aforementioned armored fighting vehicle is their fifth full-length release, Beast, and it’s, by far, their most extreme, barbaric, unstoppable, sinister, behemoth of an album to date. As Dez Fafara has suggested, in reference to their 2007 release, “If you liked The Last Kind Words, this is like that on steroids and crank, driving a Buick Skylark 200 miles an hour straight to Vegas.” Basically, if you thought their back catalog was the equivalent of being hit repeatedly with a plank of wood, this is that same plank of wood, but covered in nails.

DevilDriver have always had a massive groove-based, swarming sound but here there are tracks that simply just don’t let up. It’s a constant attack that completely drowns your senses in one elongated hit. The vocals in the verses of “Hardened”, impossibly, don’t even pause for breath as the cyclical guitars pile on pillow after suffocating pillow. There is also an underlying, malevolent message that rips through everything, from the bleak chord choices to the scathing lyrics, revealing the kind of negative emotion that Fafara and co. were experiencing at the time of writing. Tracks like “You Make Me Sick” and “Coldblooded” feature the kind of soul-sucking gloom that are more likely to inhabit the black metal world of Samael or Moonspell. There’s also lyrics like “I don’t know you but I fucking hate you, you’re a marked man” that dominate “Blur” and what starts out as Fafara making a “Shitlist”, rapidly ends up with him compiling a “hit list” – now that’s dark. It’s also interesting that the more familiar, straight-up, muscle-bound style that marks out the stunning opening salvo of “Dead To Rights” and “Bring The Fight (To The Floor)” were both released as singles, because there could be a bit of a shock factor when you finally get your hands on this and realize just how evil it is.

There are several times that Lamb Of God come to mind – the mind-blowing depth of heaviness that powers out of John Boecklin’s drumkit is now comparable in so many ways to Chris Adler’s cacophonic battery, and when Fafara gets REALLY pissed he brings out the strain, reaching up to peak at Randy Blythe levels of rasp. “The Blame Game”, in particular, wouldn’t look out of place if you stuck it in the middle of Wrath. It rocks like an absolute bastard before pitching itself into a big Chimaira-esque beatdown.

I must admit I’m not a huge fan of their more melodic 16 Horsepower cover, “Black Soul Choir”, or their continued love of the fadeout or, for that matter, the rather bare artwork (but it’s still infinitely better than Pray For Villains comedic owl) but I guess I’m just being a pedant. Let me cut to the chase. There’s no other way to say this so I’ll just, like DevilDriver’s tank, plough on regardless. Beast is, well… a beast. That wall of theirs won’t know what’s fucking hit it.

Also online (with samples) @ The NewReview = http://thenewreview.net/reviews/devildriver-beast

Album Review: Turisas - Stand Up And Fight

There are those close-minded souls who are quick to pour disdain on metal that doesn’t rip their heads off and spit down their throats. Expansive melodic metal and, in particular, folk metal therefore often comes in for quite a rough ride, but this seems harsh on a band such as Finland’s Turisas who seem to pour their hearts and souls into recreating belting Viking tales of yore. Now if there was one set of characters who were more likely to rip your head off and spit down your throat than the Viking warriors then I’d love to hear about them.

Turisas delight in referring to their particular genre as “Battle Metal” (Hell, they named their first album it) and it certainly suits them to a tee. They play rampaging anthems that angry up the blood and their ardent fans, like their heroes, aptly turn up to shows wielding axes and baring skin ready for the fight. Such is their dedication you’ll often see them clad only in furs and facepaint (yes, even in the winter months), so they’re a pretty hardy bunch.

Their latest offering, Stand Up And Fight, which comes enveloped in a stunning Frank Miller-esque cover, picks up where 2008′s conceptual masterpiece, The Varangian Way, left off (in Constantinople actually), but moves quickly onwards to deliver stories that speak to us on several levels. “In general, the songs are much more universal and deal with topics that can be placed just as tightly into the modern world as in the 11th century Byzantine Empire.” explains frontman Mathias Nygård. “Stand Up And Fight has much more to offer the contemporary listener.”

From the opening volley of “The March Of The Varangian Guard” to the ridiculously catchy title-track (one listen and you will be humming it for weeks), it is clear that the production is cleaner, the orchestral touches have become more prevalent and there is plenty more pomp and circumstance being carefully slotted into place. It’s down to the fact that, for the first time, there are string and horn sections hand-picked from leading symphony orchestras to accompany the band’s regular offering of guitars, keyboards, percussion, accordion and violin, and that makes this music on an epic scale; the album seriously sports the kind of bombast that is usually only to be found in grand film scores.

“βένετοι! – πράσινοι!”, which roughly translates as “The Blues! The Greens!” (the two opposing parties of the Roman/Byzantine Senate), feels straight away like this album’s tonal piece – the keystone track that “In The Court Of Jarisleif” became for their last album. Comparing the two certainly shines a light on the changes that Stand Up And Fight offers. It’s a vast, mainly instrumental, piece that inserts you, not dancing a jig round a campfire as “ITCOF” did, but standing with mouth agape in a great echoing hall with fanfares firing off in all directions. It is, essentially, an invite to the coronation of Turisas and, if I’m honest, it feels a little overblown. There are hints of guilded Dragonforce and Within Temptation here where previously has stood the muck and brass of Korpiklaani and Finntroll. This theme continues with “The Great Escape”, as bowed strings lead the way, and for the tender, bitter tang of the operatic “End Of An Empire”, but the fighting down-to-earth spirit still cuts apart the rollicking sea shanty “Hunting Pirates” and, naturally, that killer title-track.

Whichever song you pile into there’s always Nygård’s deep, emotive vocal to guide you along, a vast ocean of extravagance and drama lying behind it and rich, orchestrated strata and choral harmonies blasting through it. Only the most ardent of haters could truly fail to see the potential for this music to be coupled with an all-singing all-dancing stageshow but, having said that, here’s hoping they bring it back to the pit for the next album because this one feels a little too much like they’re trying to plunder Broadway rather than the battle-hardened spirits of their fanbase.

Also online (with samples) @ The NewReview = http://thenewreview.net/reviews/turisas-stand-up-and-fight

Album Review: Crowbar – Sever The Wicked Hand

The importance of showcasing great technique by combining it with intricate song construction seems to be paramount to survival in today’s modern metal scene. Many newbies appear to come with craft and execution pre-loaded, yet always seem to be forever searching for a personal identity and often turn to over-complicating their sound to find it. Sadly, in many instances, what their music is basically lacking is true grit and it leaves one lusting after something more base; an enduring sound that beats with a primeval heart. Crowbar are reliably one of those bands that I always turn to when this desire takes hold and with tracks like “Isolation (Depression)” and “I Only Deal In Truth” to show off, from their new album Sever The Wicked Hand, they have produced probably their sludgiest, shit-kicking fix of an album ever.

It’s been six long years since their release but, joyously, it’s a return to the Broken Glass days and that deep, thought-obliterating groove that plugs their music directly into your soul. That’s a fine base to be kicking off from but there’s more. By gathering members of Soilent Green, Goatwhore and Kingdom Of Sorrow around him, Kirk Windstein (Down/Kingdom Of Sorrow) now has pretty much a finger in every pie of the Deep South’s sludge metal community and, consequently, there is most definitely a wider range of tracks on show, from songs with an aggressive, fast attack to melodically-heavy numbers and subtler release come-downs. There’s also the fact that songs like the throbbing “Cleanse Me, Heal Me”, “A Farewell To Misery” with it’s chiming opening and chanting oratorio, and the splitting hardcore of “The Cemetery Angels” (featuring the line “You gave me wings and took the sky away” coming direct from an Alcoholics Anonymous book) indicate that the now sober Windstein is keen to use the album as a way of releasing his own inner demons. “I’m not dead yet and have been sober for four months, and I have this whole new outlook on life and a brand new spin on everything”, he explains. We do certainly benefit from this extra infusion of passion which evocatively drives the whole thing forward.

The opening three tracks leave you feeling emotionally spent as they batter about inside your skull with “Liquid Sky And Cold Blade” building up a brutish dirge so complete you’d swear that, if it were a sparring opponent, you’d collapse with exhaustion from repeatedly unleashing shots before it fell to the canvas. Following, “Let Me Mourn” has that Alice In Chains lament-fueled groove that Crowbar slip into occasionally where the vocals team up and the guitars pluck upon an invisible elastic doom. It bears a striking similarity to “Coming Down” from the Lifesblood For The Downtrodden album in that it chugs so hard it’s as if it’s sobbing itself dry. By the time “Echo An Eternity” rolls around you’ll be picking up odd traces of progressive dark rock as walking patterns over gunge-slicked guitar oddly bring Ihsahn’s latest opus to mind.

What Crowbar have taught us with Sever The Wicked Hand is that they have again proven themselves to be a class apart, finding the perfect middle ground between technique, structure and, most importantly, gentle variation within a consistent construct; a band that we can always rely on to produce brilliant simplicity of delivery at a time when metal has never been more complex.

Also online (with preview samples) @ The NewReview = http://thenewreview.net/reviews/crowbar-sever-the-wicked-hand

Album Review: The Bridal Procession - Astronomical Dimensions

The Bridal Procession are a band transformed. In three short years, they have been through a whole catalog of line-up changes which has resulted in them morphing from playing run-of-the-mill deathcore to peddling overtly complex, gothic death metal; a band with a penchant for juxtaposing aggression with melody by integrating rich orchestration and dark, apocalyptic elements into the mix.

For Astronomical Dimensions, their debut full-length, it is apparent that this Parisian quintet (including their live drummer) have managed to draw a couple of very influential moths to their flame. We have Alexander Dietz (guitarist for Heaven Shall Burn) responsible for tracking and Tim Lambesis (lead vocalist for As I Lay Dying) handling the mixing with Daniel Castleman at his own studios. No doubt, these names have prompted others like Alan Douches at West West Side and the Siege Of Amida label to get involved. The result is a pretty gobsmacking package.

At the time of writing, without the information to hand, I’m assuming it was probably the case that their go-to guy, Junior Rodriguez, was the drummer on the album but, with all the big names involved with the project, you’d love to believe that someone like Tim Lambesis stepped up. Whoever sat behind that kit is one talented individual. The oblique changes of rhythm, the multitude of different fills, the tom-rolls and, especially the rimshots (hats off to the production team who must have spent ages adjusting the levels to inject the right amount of warmth into them) are top-notch. In fact, if you listen carefully, each band member wears their impressive technical ability like a badge of honor. At times, there’s almost too much to going on at once and the sentiment of the track gets lost – the drummer’s too busy pounding out another complex fill just as the synth dribbles out another ludicrously epic lead.

“Shroud Of The End” is the perfect track to showcase their sound – a kind of death metal opera reminiscent of something Winds Of Plague or The Breathing Process might venture into. It is divided between emotional synth sweeps that climb to whining peaks and a throat-scouring attack (vocalist Steve Garner spewing forth cutting lyrics pinpointing modern societal collapse) behind a battering ram of guitars. All around this focal point orbits a proclivity to dip into the more progressive side of things. Take the four-minute instrumental title-track, oddly reminiscent of The Ocean’s recent output, or “Pillage The Scavenger” which chimes in with an Eluveitie-esque folk metal intro and trudges out, having donned Primordial’s corpsepaint, a fully-fledged war machine.

Like a volcanic mud bath, in its angrier moments, Astronomical Dimensions has enough sulphuric passion steaming from it to speak directly to you, sending shivers up your spine as it bubbles and bursts forth from the speakers. However, there’s an awful lot of overly eccentric, ephemeral gloop to wade through to get to that moment of clarity. The Bridal Procession have promise by the truckload that should be realized once they consistently manage to better integrate their theatrical page-breaks into their brutally punishing, horror story.

Also online @ The NewReview = http://thenewreview.net/reviews/the-bridal-procession-astronomical-dimensions