Tagged: rock music

March 1, 2013

Vienna (by Crebain): black metal version of pretentious pop classic

Crebain, Vienna, self-released single (2012)

Curious that one-man West Coast USBM act Crebain has just one proper full-length recording to his name (“Night of Stormcrow”) besides a split with fellow Californian Leviathan. So what’s he doing with a cover version of the old 1980s Ultravox track “Vienna”, that definitive hymn to all that was overblown and pretentious about the New Romantic scene that swept Britain 30 years ago? Folks, if you were not born 30 years ago, thank your lucky stars that you didn’t have to hear the likes of Ultravox during when Midge Ure was the main singer of the band along with all the other silly pop acts like Duran Duran, A Flock of Seagulls, Human League and Spandau Ballet. Ohhh … you mean those guys are still about?! The original Ultravox version that I vaguely remember – I’m not prepared to go back to it on Youtube.com – is a schmaltzy and cheesy synth-pop ditty with a chamber music and piano accompaniment, a bombastic style and a theme of regret at the decay of society and a lost golden age.

Perhaps because the style of the original song is ripe for parody or deconstruction and the lyrics can also be interpreted in a way that’s not only different but completely opposite to Ure and company’s original intention that a black metal version is possible. Crebain places the over-the-top thunderous drum bombast at the beginning of the song and then strips it of its frills so that the beat and original melody, done on trilling black metal vibrato guitar, remain along with the lyrics and solemn air. The hissy and screeching vocals are set some distance back in the mix: they’re perhaps the most (intentionally?) disgusting aspect of the cover and a contrast with the faux operatic original. All the violin solo instrumental parts are more or less replicated on lead guitar which strips them of their preposterous grandeur. Overall the song’s style is a fusion of black metal and rock with a heavy beat and a poker-faced stodgy seriousness.

The cover art for the promotional single features a monumental statue of a figure in neoclassical style and suggests fascist brutality and arrogance. Possibly Crebain is hinting here that society as imagined by Ultravox 30 years really wasn’t so great and that for most people it was actually inhuman and barbaric. In that context, the chorus “It means nothing to me …” is a dismissal of the fake majesty and other false values of pre-1945 Western civilisation as imagined by Ultravox.

I’d prefer that Crebain could have picked on some other 1980s song to cover although I guess if I were in his position looking for an old pop “classic” to mash into a parody that criticises the original song and its intentions, I’d hardly go past pretentious pap like Ultravox’s “Vienna”. There’s not much to the original song to begin with and by sticking very closely to the original tune and lyrics, Crebain shows up the shallowness of the song and reveals the emptiness behind it; that means there’s really not a great deal to recommend the new version. Still, it’s far preferable to the original.

As the cover version is a self-released single, it may be hard to find so you can hear it at this link. This is Crebain’s first release in several years and may herald more work and perhaps a full-length album in the near future.

December 29, 2012

Castles in your Heart

Here’s a highlight from February 2012, Age Of Energy (NORTHERN SPY NSCD020) by Chicago Underground Duo – a glorious CD of electronics, jazz cornet, and solid rhythms. No upstarts are Chad Taylor and Rob Mazurek, who have in fact been playing together in various manifestations since the late 1990s, and in turn grew out of a renaissance of improvised music in Chicago which had been burgeoning since about 1990. They’ve had a lot of records released on Delmark and Thrill Jockey (this is their first for Northern Spy) and as this is the first I heard from them, I think that a back catalogue investigation is in order. Album contains ‘Winds and Sweeping Pines’, 20 minutes of beautiful electronic tones including perhaps some treated cornet sounds, and a piece which goes through about a dozen shifts and changes in completely unforced fashion, evoking joyous moods which contrast with more introspective and wistful emotions. Testament perhaps to their non-prescriptive and unprogrammed manner of making music. The drumming is spectacularly inventive throughout and never settles for a tedious motorik or disco beat. We only hear some recognisable cornet tones at the very end of this epic canvas, at which point the Billy Cobham fans will be leaping into the lively arena to grab a piece of this action. More suffused and understated is the track ‘It’s Alright’, a pulsating and inventive drone of textured distorto-electronica used as a platform for Mazurek’s brassy utterances. There’s also the title track, which is probably the cut most likely to appeal to listeners still seeking their thrills from 21st-century updates on Krautrock-inspired music. The rich drum sound here is something most technicians would give their right arm to achieve, smashing against the rippling waves of electronic genius-blather with zesty abandon. But it’s the tricky rhythmical base which once again is so creative, showing Chad Taylor doesn’t take coffee breaks in his mind when sitting behind his kit, and that he’s more in the lineage of a Sunny Murray than a Zappi Diermaier. Chicago Underground Duo were namechecked by the UK duo Warm Digits as one of their major influences, and you can take that to the savings & loan. Warm Digits have not slavishly copied the sounds of the Duo, but successfully emulate their passion, drive and joyful élan. Recommended. Released in March 2012, our copy received 29 February.

A very nice item is Flux (SPECTRUM SPOOLS SP010) by the American composer Robert Turman, an album he originally released on cassette in 1981. Turman’s earliest known work includes a 1979 single Mode Of Infection / Knife Ladder which he realised with Boyd Rice of NON, and because of this and Z.O. Voider he became associated with 1980s industrial music. Flux however is not abrasive grinding noise, comprising six long tracks of very gentle, melodic and understated minimal music made with piano, kalimba, tape loops, and drum machine. It’s beautiful music and the muted sound arising from this rescued cassette tape adds considerably to the charming, dream-like and restful aesthetic. A sort of less strident version of The Residents around the time of Commercial Album, mixed with Brian Eno’s ambient sensibilities, particularly Music For Airports. The press release points out the ingenious cross-rhythms in play, and praises Turman’s skills in realising this complex music while overcoming hurdles presented by the limitations of the equipment available to him, which is now regarded as somewhat primitive. Since 2009, Robert Turman has enjoyed a productive partnership with Aaron Dilloway who released albums for him on the Hanson label, and provided the scans of the original cassette for this reissue. One of the better releases from this label. Released as a double LP on St Valentine’s Day 2012.

The team of Lull, Beta Cloud and Andrew Liles all collaborated to produce Circadian Rhythm Disturbance Reconfigured (COLD SPRING RECORDS CSR139CD), a concept album which aims to suggest the effects of insomnia through sound; in fact the creators were mostly concerned with how the affliction of sleeplessness can affect the thought processes of the human brain. It might be viewed as a vaguely sinister experiment about the effects of sleep deprivation, but also an attempt at a psychological probing of those areas of the consciousness often neglected or overlooked. We received this in February and at first approach, neither ears nor brain nor sleep-sensors were particularly engaged by its empty-seeming surface, but today this album is just right; a clouded-up fogfest of supreme fugginess which leaves the listener adrift in a supremely ambiguous zone for over 20 minutes and hence meets all the requirements of unsettling music in the “dark ambient” genre. Lull is Mick Harris of Scorn, whose 1990s ambient texturising I always enjoyed when I was immersed in the field where every other record was mastered by James Plotkin, and the Isolationism compilation was my touchstone. Beta Cloud is Carl Pace, the American musician whose Lunar Monograph from a few years ago sounds intriguing. Together this pair made the original Circadian Rhythm Disturbance and released it as a three-incher in 2008; now here it is again in full, along with an Andrew Liles remix of same. Liles transforms the original completely, filling it out with horrifying explosions, scalding jet aircraft engines, sinister crackling fuzz and many other unpleasant incidents, completely undermining the menacing yet strangely soothing mood of the original near-blank murkoid statement. If we compare the two, I suppose Lull / Beta Cloud ask interesting questions about the nature and effects of insomnia, while it seems Liles is hell-bent on contributing to or even exacerbating the condition.

Got another bundle of psych-revival music from Dave Schmidt in late February 2012. Electric Moon‘s The Doomsday Machine (NASONI RECORDS 118) was not in fact released on his Sulatron-Records label, but Schmidt features as a main player of this band in his Sula Bassana guise. Throughout, muscular and dense psych-rock music in the Spacemen 3 vein. We’re warned that The Doomsday Machine is “enveloped by a gloomy atmosphere”, which may be true, but to me it’s the kind of energised and flailing gloom as typified by certain favourite apocalyptic songs of King Crimson, Andromeda, or Second Hand when they made ‘The World Will End Yesterday’ or Death May Be Your Santa Claus. The album’s title track occupies all of side one and relentlessly chugs away in a minor key with its thick, clotted sound. The drumming summons an army of skeletons, the throats of the vocalists are stuffed with palpable despair, and the wah-wah guitars in particular produce an inhuman screaming sound that is highly appealing. The rest of the album may not be as crushingly heavy as that supreme downer of an opener, but there are highlights like ‘Spaceman’, a strong contender for matching Richard Pinhas’s soaring sci-fi guitar longform excursions, and ‘Stardust Service’ which ought to bring tears to the eyes of fans of the early Pink Floyd. Ulli Mahn’s overwrought artworks are an integral part of the release, and Electric Moon have made it their personal project to reinterpret these elaborate paintings in music, thus also forging a link with the past (the painter is the father of band member Komet Lulu). All of Schmidt’s projects and releases may stand accused of having both feet firmly cemented into “retro” genres, but he and his bands do it with such conviction and pleasure that I for one cannot resist. Available as a CD and a double-LP with extras.

December 6, 2012

Windhand: in danger of becoming a Sabbath clone, and a tired one at that

Windhand, self-titled, Forcefield Records, CDGRIMM25 (2012)

A sure sign that Windhand traffick in no-nonsense straight-ahead retro doom metal is the album cover of a rural scene in black silhouette, the branches of trees drawn in such a way as to suggest spidery fingers stretching outwards, against a purple background; this recalls Black Sabbath album covers of similar minimal two-toned design and a pastoral scene. The album is solemn riff-heavy doom with a powerful sound that contrasts with a clear high vocal, courtesy of one Dorthia Cottrell who is set somewhat far back in the mix so the lyrics are rather hard to make out unless the album is played very loudly.

“Black Candles” leads off with a slight ambient intro into the track proper which is mostly repetitive riff loop with a touch of echoing effect to give the song an occasional psychedelic feel. Although the riff is very strong, the song as a whole feels very enervated; the bland singing doesn’t enliven it much. Likewise, “Libusen” is steady-as-it-goes with a heavy riff that repeats over and over without much variation while Cottrell wails at close to the high end of her range far into the distance. It’s a graceful song, slow and majestic, and if it were a bit slower with more drawn-out droning tones and icy-cold space ambient effects, it would be an excellent song indeed.

“Heap Wolves” perks up with more melodic riffs and Cottrell’s siren vocals sounding off over the sinister roiling music and oily lead guitar. It’s clear that this lady is not only Windhand’s best asset but has the potential to be Queen Bee of female doom metal vocalists if the band can raise its profile higher among the US doom metal community and beyond; on all tracks, Cottrell commands attention even though her vocal range barely strays from the higher end and her style is basically a wailing one. If she can experiment with her style more and use the lower, deeper end of her vocal range on future songs, she is sure to go a very long way.

Individual songs are quite good without being outstanding but when put together, the album feels very tired for some reason. Part of the problem may be that Cottrell’s vocals are so far back in the mix in most songs and are so restricted in the range of sounds that for some listeners she can sound the same from one song to the next. The singing is bland and needs an injection of aggression to roughen up the tone now and again. Songs tend to be much the same in basic structure, all dependent on repeating riffs and time-keeping drums with the obligatory lead guitar solo; they rarely vary in pace and mood. There is a danger that Windhand will fall into the category of Sabbath clones of which there are far too many already. Outro track “Winter Sun” suggests in some instrumental parts that the musicians aren’t averse to improvising and playing about with their sound and upsetting people’s expectations of what a doom band should do. Some individual members in the band have talent that should be stretched a lot further.

It’s quite possible though that with this debut, Windhand are playing a bit safe and perhaps on the second album they will show us what they’re really made of.

Contact: Forcefield Records

November 11, 2012

Dream Seeds: too bland, poppy and smooth for very dark subject matter

Extra Life, Dream Seeds, Northern Spy Records, NSCD 022 (2012)

That album cover has that curious and creepy look that I associate with the artwork for The Melvins’ albums but the music here is very, very different from those doom metal musicians’ work. Superficially poppy and intimate, as though made just for one person and that one person is you, the self-confessional album hides very dark fantasies and traumas, too dark to ever reveal to the light: traumas and thoughts that would see the unseen narrator-singer go into the slammer were they to be made public. “Dream Seeds” is the work of Charlie Looker who performs all vocals (which remind me of Depeche Mode in their pure strong choir-boy tones that suggest both innocence and self-torment), acoustic guitar and some synthesiser plus two other musicians on electronics, synth, guitar, percussion and backing vocals who make up Extra Life. The music emphasises awkward and deliberately clunky rhythms and beats, an epic and varied sound that takes in hard-edged pop-rock, moods of melancholy, fear, sorrow and despair, and synth-based orchestration.

To be honest, I find the music palls over the album’s running time: there’s something about it that’s bland and blunt and leaves me feeling remote and uninvolved. Perhaps the style of music adopted here is the problem: I guess I expect music this dark and personal to have some anguish and hints of self-examination, self-torture and pleading / bargaining with God that would be reflected in the very texture of the music – some harsh layers of sound here and there that would contrast with the smoothness of the singing. As the album goes, the emotion that should have been spread throughout instead comes in the last song and sounds very forced. I feel as though I’m sitting through some kitchen-sink drama that’s been done too often already and the burnt-out actors are simply going through the motions again.

The lyrics are the best part of the album and could stand apart as a monologue. Taken together, the lyrics form a narrative of guilt on the vocalist’s part for going ahead with an abortion or a few abortions in spite of his religious pro-life background and his fantasies about what he’d like to do to several children under his care as a teacher. Extreme abusive corporal punishment (“Discipline for Edwin”) and paedophilia (“Little One”, “First Song”) are hinted at. The last two tracks bring back memories of the abortions, controlling the unruly class of school-kids with a paddle and finally release from a particular mortal coil.

“First Song” is the best song on the album for its intense emotion and the mood of darkening cloud, a feeling that something very wrong is occurring, but apart from this, the music and singing just don’t seem to fit the subject matter well enough.

Contact: Northern Spy Records

November 4, 2012

Garten der Unbewusstheit: doom metallers Corrupted at their most elegiac

Corrupted, Garten der Unbewusstheit, Japan, Nostalgia Blackrain, CD cold ashes 002 (2011)

This album might be Corrupted at their most elegiac and wistful: the garden described in the album’s title could be a metaphor for planet Earth and all its natural ecosystems. I like to think my interpretation of the album’s title is consistent with the band’s general aim of criticising current political systems and societies, and standing up for oppressed peoples around the world. “Garten …” serves as Corrupted’s warning of what lies ahead if the world continues on its present path of self-destruction: this is a highly sorrowful and despairing work, epic and majestic in its description of ultimate tragedy.

Opening track “Garten” would appear to have an extremely long and drawn-out introduction of deathly quiet music and huge still space, animated only a little by Hevi’s whispered vocals, but the music then plunges into a near-orchestral passage of crashing percussion and guitar drones that sound like brass horns. Hevi’s whispers become long guttural groans. Interestingly about halfway through the track, there are trilling shimmers of guitar drone, possibly fed through a computer and sculpted into a very atmospheric sound, that might reflect a post-metal influence and which by its tone suggests a glimmer of hope in the devastation so far described. Unfortunately that hope doesn’t last long as the track crashes into another orchestral realisation of horror. As the piece dies down and limps off to a quiet finale, I notice that the music all the way through has a clean and almost smooth sound with hardly any of the crust and abrasive quality that usually appears on Corrupted’s recordings.

“Against the Darkest Days” is a brief track at four-and-a-half minutes of slow, frail acoustic guitar melody, nothing more and nothing less, that serves as a breather and extended introduction to the mammoth 30-minute “Gekkou no Daichi”. The track gradually acquires a darker, deeper, more ominous second guitar melody before plunging into long, pained guitar riffs and extended tones, sporadic use of drums and cymbals, rumbling guitar shower in the background and Hevi’s groaning vocals. The whole atmosphere of the track is of suffering, pain and desolation. As the song progresses, all musicians become more active and the music builds up with extra effects and sounds. It all reaches an early climax about the 12th minute and the music falls back into a coasting instrumental with a mix of clean lead guitar solo and roiling background guitar noise. Hevi’s vocals change to an angry or desperate whisper, depending on the point of view, and progresses to a constant if restrained rant that never quite works up into a full-fledged roar. “Gekkou …” gradually becomes a grand and defiant death cry, the last statement of a dying though still conscious species. Clean lead guitar solo trills and vibrates against the majestic backdrop of emphatic, crashing drums and cymbals, a continuous metal guitar rain and Hevi’s vocals. A sandstorm emerges to swallow up the music gradually.

In spite of the album’s gloomy mood, the style of music throughout has a hopeful, even optimistic and bright edge that rarely appeared on previous Corrupted releases. In the later parts of “Gekkou no Daichi”, the mood can be quite sunny even as the noisy storm conjured up by guitar feedback grows louder and engulfs the music. The album plays like a soundtrack for a prolonged funeral procession; “Gekkou no Daichi” alone certainly would qualify as the accompaniment to a funeral cortege from church to the grave. Admittedly the music is very long and monotonous in parts, and editing could have been applied to the beginning of “Gekkou no Daichi”, but I think the intention here is to involve the listener fully in the music, drawing the attention into the quiet, meditative melody of acoustic guitar and then breaching the consciousness with a heavy barrage of guitars and percussion.

Corrupted may not be a very original band and the guys try to play catch-up with trends in doom metal these days, incorporating a cleaner sound and post-rock elements that give the band’s music an additional dimension. No longer are the guys just glum reporters and commentators on what they see as a world that’s lost its way. They are now detailing its final end and calling on us to decide whether we’ll fade out meekly or make a last defiant stand against a universe that doesn’t care whether we live or die.

Contact: Nostalgia Blackrain

September 30, 2012

Zond: free-form noise rock / punk that defies easy pigeon-holing categorisation

Zond, self-titled, R.I.P. Society Records, CD RIP012 (2010)

Not quite a noise band nor a rock band, not quite free-form improv but not peddling definite songs either, yet noisy and rocking out and sounding structured and unstructured at the same time throughout, this is the Melbourne-based psych-rock-noise outfit Zond. At least Zond consists of four musicians playing guitars, bass, drums and FX anyway so we can pin them down as a quartet of sorts in that respect. The band’s style might be described as a barrage of howling feedback guitar riffs and drones and repeating melodies on the verge of break-down against rhythms inspired by old Seventies punk / new wave. There’s something vaguely post-punk / post-rock / post-metal about the music and yet it’s possible the guys don’t take any influences from these genres at all.

After early tracks showcasing the music at its most chaotic and noise-guitar unstructured, the fellas allow some radiant ambience to shimmer gently in “Stupid Gods” before returning to whirlwind guitar battery and woozy vocals in “Dunvegan Castle”, a stupendous head-cleaning slab of sandstorm scree if ever there was one. Some semblance of rock returns in “Six” and “Blind” which have a very rawk-n-rawl punky style – or at least there is some semblance to rock before the feedback vacuum hose gets set on reverse cycle. Bringing up the rear is “Apis”, again a seemingly normal garage-punk kind of track with barely intelligible vocals – but it turns out to be an intense psych-rock spiral in which each rotating loop represents a level much deeper in derangement and sonic architectural dissolution.

For all the noise and apparent near-collapse though, there is something oddly soothing and calming in the album most times: the chaos is never truly chaotic, the insanity can be lucid in parts and no matter how far gone from the planet the listener feels, return to safe and secure ground is only a step away …

Contact: Zond, R.I.P. Society Records

September 1, 2012

Dusk Dawn / Follow You Beloved: immersive darkwave ambient mood pieces of temporal borderlands and sinister obsessive love

Aelter, Dusk Dawn / Follow You Beloved, Crucial Blast, 2xCD (2011)

A repackaging of two recordings that were originally self-released as vinyl LPs in 2009 and 2011, “Dusk Dawn / Follow You Beloved” is an immersive double set of droning darkwave ambient mood pieces. There are only four tracks, each originally having its own side of the vinyl record to itself. Aelter’s style here is minimal and repetitive and to be frank that’s pretty much all I can say that’s neutral.

For a supposedly ambient recording intended to be heard during the border periods when the daylight is dying but the night is not yet born, and when the night is fading before a new dawn, the music on “Dusk Dawn” is blunt and unvarying in its volume dynamics and range of sounds and melodies to impress listeners. It relies too much on repetition to have an effect and not enough thought is given to further structuring of the track: I’m thinking of strategies like layering the track with different sound textures that might pass in and out, the use of field recordings to manipulate memory associations with dawn or dusk. Of the two tracks, “Dawn” is the better of the two but relies on melody and orchestral grandeur to get its message across rather than mood and sound manipulation. There is nothing here that can be associated with the dawn of a new day in both a literal and figurative sense and the track has a very heavy-handed, burdensome feel when it should be light and optimistic with a fragile and child-like quality that can later develop into something more confident and mature. Probably the best moment is about the 12th minute on “Dawn” when there is a lone piano melody playing – but even here there is too much repetition.

The second disc is more in the appropriate mood for its theme of longing and dark desire: “Follow You” has a strong sense of yearning amid a slightly urban-blues landscape of lack and numbness. The delivery is still a bit heavy and lumpen and full instrumentation with singing comes a little too fast: maybe the synthesiser is too strong in the background. “Beloved” is a bit of a puzzle: it starts off icy and almost elegiac, then suddenly plunges into almost colossal, crushing swathes of guitar riff, glacial piano tone and howls of drone in the background. I imagine this sudden outburst of sound might be a wail of despair at the loss of a loved one. The rest of the track is rather sinister and malevolent in sound and mood with a testy, snarling guitar marking time while a subdued vocal hums a dirge and creepy church organ drones fill in most of the space in and around the strings.

There is something indeed insidious and malevolent about this second CD, as though it were really about a stalker staking out his (well, maybe her) prey, following the person’s every movements and when finally catching up, imprisoning or even killing the object of obsession to possess her (well, maybe him) entirely. There was a “Die Hard” version of this recording in 2010 (all copies sold out) so perhaps the theme of a predator stalking prey and catching and killing it is appropriate to describe “Follow You Beloved”.

On both discs there is far too much repetition for my liking and the range of instruments used and the way in which they were used were just not varied enough for the themes and moods Aelter is exploring. Even so, a musician whose creative ambitions far outstrip his/her musical abilities and playing limitations is to be preferred over one who knows everything there is to know about playing music but who is content to play the same thing over and over. Blake Green, sole member of Aelter as far as I can see, just needs to fine-tune his approach to creating ambient mood soundscapes by experimenting with sound as much as he can, associate and play with other musicians in the genres he wants to explore and not be afraid of leaving melody, rhythms and riffing behind.

Contact: Aelter
Crucial Blast

August 20, 2012

Doom in Bloom: more bloom, less doom needed here

The Botanist, Doom in Bloom, Israel, 2xCD Total Rust Music, TRUST025 (2012)

After the first two albums, reviewed in an earlier post, the one-man eco-black metal dulcimer-playing horde The Botanist opts for a rather different musical direction on “Doom in Bloom” which as the title suggests is a doomy affair. Those first two albums were quite breezy and minimal in style and featured 40 short songs crammed onto two discs: the danger there was that they tended to bleed into one another and to lose their individuality as songs. No such problem here: the album proper runs over an hour in length but features just seven songs, all of which take up the nature-oriented theme with their titles describing the characteristics (as The Botanist imagines them) of various plants and fungi such as the lingzhi mushroom, the poisonous Amanita mushroom, the holy basil and ginseng.

Tracks are usually repetitive and slow, and their riffs and melodies make more of an impression on listeners than their equivalents did on The Botanist’s first two releases. The sound can be mournful and plaintive and the drumming sounds more natural (in the sense that it sounds as if Otrebor, the Botanist main-man, had actually got someone on skins: that would be himself, I believe) and confident, even martial, and less brittle and nervy. Extra instrumentation and some subtle effects have been included on some tracks as well. Vocals, when they do appear which is not often, tend to be whispered and unobtrusive, and even when the phantom gravel-rasp appears, it is very quiet. The screaming veers more towards existential anguish than to hostility and aggression. The most distinctive track on the album is “Deathcap” which has a slumped, depressed mood and a foot-dragging pace; apart from this track, the other songs tend to be fairly generic and downright ploddingly mediocre and quite painful at times.

Fortunately The Botanist has included a bonus disc titled “Allies” for which six bands were invited to contribute tracks based on the rhythms of the “Doom in Bloom” songs and that also have a nature or plant-based theme. Matrushka’s “The Ejaculate on the Petals of the Femme Orchid” pieces are wafting ambient pieces, mysterious and lonesome in their mood. “The War of All Against All” by Cult of Linnaeus is a brooding raspy-voiced song with death metal, post-rock and sludge doom metal influences. The Botanist’s regular band Ophidian Forest plays folk-influenced, near-symphonic black metal on “Cordyceps”, referring to a type of fungus: this is a stirring piece with a thrumming rhythm loop and in parts possesses majesty. Arborist’s “Total Entarchy” is a weeping piece performed on metal-stringed or slide guitar with piano and drum accompaniment that suddenly and dramatically breaks out into full-on emotional post-rock psychedelia with a spooky banshee theremin and sliding, melting guitar riffs and flourishes: this is easily the best song on the album and worth the purchase price alone.

Lotus Thief has its work cut out following Arborist but “Nymphaea Carulea” is an excellent post-rock black metal fusion piece combining a rapid rhythm, a raw guitar sound, smooth lead guitar drones and shoegaze shimmer that recalls aspects of Caina and Alcest. Unexpected toughness and crunch coming hard on the softer melodic passages make this a highlight on the disc. Bestiary’s “It Lives Again” is an ordinary doom metal song with lyrics sung by an operatic soprano singer.

“Doom in Bloom” by itself isn’t a great piece of work and I’m rather disappointed that it turned out the way it did. Doom metal doesn’t appear to be The Botanist’s strong point at all. The “remix” disc saves the album with those tracks from Arborist and Lotus Thief which together would make a handy split single.

Contact: Total Rust Music
Verdant Realm on bandcamp

August 5, 2012

Drought: mighty black metal / post-rock fusion packed tightly into mini-album EP format

Deathspell Omega, Drought, Season of Mist CD SOM810 (2012)

Another mighty missive from Deathspell Omega in the form of an EP and it’s a surprise in that the band is expanding its sonic range into something more atmospheric, doomy and emotional. Opening track “… I had a salowe vision” (sic) is a brief yet astonishing foray into intense and bleak apocalyptic post-rock of ringing chords and lots of dark, anguished space recognisable to fans of Caina and Godspeed You Black Emperor perhaps. “Fiery Serpents” explodes upon us in all its heavy, intricate yet melodic black metal fury: stop-start rhythms, nuclear-powered drumming, constantly twisting and turning arrangements, and occasional swanky passages of staccato riffing and drum rolls all overlaid by the familiar gnarly-snarly vocals. All tracks are very short and stop very abruptly and you wonder how the band manages to control its energy so well that each song is clear and distinct from the others yet managing to pack so much in the way of melody, rhythm and intense aggression into the space of about 3 – 4 minutes.

Already we’re halfway through the EP with “Sand”, a confident swaggering piece with an off-kilter counter-melody to the main tune played on sparkle-toned electric guitar. “Abrasive Swirling Murk” quickly pushes it aside with a complicated rhythm structure and more of those stuttering guitar riffs. This track builds down to a middling post-rock pace and (but for a brief pause) segues into “The cracked book of life” which unusually perhaps for DSO is a long instrumental piece of ambient post-rock groove with a trumpet loop surrounded by heavy guitar crunch and grind. A long mournful clean-toned guitar solo underlines the anguish of existence in which belief in a loving God is futile because God does not care about humanity and its misdeeds.

The recording may be very short (it’s only 20 minutes in total) but there is such a lot pressed into it that even DSO regulars must hear it a few times to register what the band has done. Parts of the album can be trippy and quirky in the way guitar chords and notes can sometimes appear off-key against the rest of the music. The musicians are delving much deeper into the territory of atmospheric post-rock and might be taking on an avantgarde jazz influence as well, all the while maintaining a firm grip on their black metal foundation with their fuzzy rhythm guitars. As usual, the DSO lyrics are very dense and quite a mouthful for the vocalist to chant through. I’m now accustomed to the idea of DSO releasing mini-albums instead of longer recordings: the mini-album format suits the band’s music very well. The musicians limit their exposure to their own stark and unwavering intensity or they might end up absorbing too much of the radiant energy that their instruments release.

June 24, 2012

Sjukdom: consistent depressive urban black metal pop from Lifelover but have they hit a dead end?

Lifelover, Sjukdom, Prophecy Productions, CD PRO 113 (2011)

“Sjukdom” sees Lifelover maintaining its consistency as suppliers of depressive metal with a melodic pop bent. The metal part tends more towards thrash and death metal lite on tracks like “Svart Galla”, “Led by Misfortune”, “Totus Anctus” and “Karma” among others but apart from this and some ambient interludes that drop into a lot of songs unexpectedly, “Sjukdom” isn’t a major musical advance for Lifelover. There’s plenty of black metal roar in the buzzing guitars and the solo piano tickling is still doleful. Though the music is hard-edged enough from the melodic thrash that occasionally pushes Lifelover close to Metallica territory, the band’s sound is very clean and clear.

Perhaps the best thing about “Sjukdom” is the vocals which are wild, hoarse and gabbling, as though the singer – there may be more than one singer at work here – is becoming mentally unhinged and disordered. On “Totus Anctus” and “Becksvart Frustration”, the singing is close to death metal gruff in line with the songs’ angry riffing. On other tracks the voices are ragged and desperate as if the vocalist fears falling permanently into madness.

Most songs are short and never really develop much. Definite moods and atmospheres that might be associated with particular tracks and make them stand out are not realised as a result. The music gallops along at more or less the same pace when some songs should be slow to allow the despair and blackness of a depressed person to be savoured. Found sounds and spoken voice recordings appear on tracks throughout the album but I get the impression that the “experimental” non-music elements are included just to spice up the music and compensate for the lack of very distinctive riffs and melodies. Songs carry on then stop suddenly for a radio recording or an ambient interlude to drop in which is why I get this niggling feeling. There’s a coolness, a kind of distance in the music, that stops Lifelover from being really involved in the subject matter of their songs; sure, there’s plenty of moaning, howling and screaming in several tracks and the music can get very angry but the emotion doesn’t come over as really heartfelt or wrenching. There’s plenty of grit but there’s also a sterility in the recording.

Not many songs stand out but I note “Homicidal Tendencies” for its heavy thrash quality and the wild singing, “Utdrag” for being the only track with a loner urban-blues desolation mood and “Bitterljuv Kakofoni” which is a quietly guarded and suspenseful piece with guitars way down in the mix and a drumbeat rhythm that perhaps should be a bit quieter and more muffled.

After hearing four Lifelover albums, I see my wish that Lifelover might throw away their attachment to pop songs and just let rip with flowing black metal / post-rock / bluesy urban music with long howling voices, everything improvised with no straining for catchy hooks but just pure raw playing, remains unfulfilled.

Contact: Prophecy Productions