JOHNSKIBEAT

Album Review: Enslaved – E

2017-10-20T16:33:00.001+01:00

With a discography to die for, our favourite black metal innovators, Enslaved, are back and they have something new hiding up their wizard sleeves. Here, on their fourteenth long-player, they exercise their love for the Norse god of War, Odin, and they sem hell-bent on honouring his notorious wanderlust.

For their opener, “Storm Son”, the band usher us gently onto their battlefield with a series of emotive sound effects, before launching into eleven minutes of weaving sinuous guitar riffery that rides over abrasive blackened hilltops and down into soft, richly-decorated auditory valleys. It’s a track that burns with originality, is excitingly honest and heart-breakingly beautiful in its organic design.

The game is clearly afoot but they aren’t playing ball and quickly settle back into playing something approximating their more traditional sound for “The River’s Mouth”. New keyboardist and clean vocalist Håkon Vinje really rises to the fore in this tumbling, galloping song providing a wonderfully soothing, yet catchy ethereal chorus and a craftily woven mesh of warm synth.

With the prog-heavy, distorted organ sounds of “Sacred Horse” and the eerily psychedelic wash of “Axis Of The World” dragging us once again through the mill, you begin to get a sense of this new manic force driving the ideas machine. It is clear that Vinje has played a major role in the creation of this scattergun collection of sonic thrusts.

The band wrap things up with “Hiindsiight” proving to be the moody, doom-laden moment to release the saxophone solos of Kjetil Møster. As he lets forth a torrent of apocalyptic squeals and sharp blasts it becomes clear that we are once more in the grip of another masterful work from these legendary Norwegians. Even if it struggles to reach the insane emotional peaks of Riitiir or the ferocious black metal crush of Eld, it still slots easily into their increasingly unsurpassable back catalogue.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2017/10/enslaved-e-nuclear-blast/

Live Review: UK Tech-Fest, Newark Showground, Saturday 8th July 2017

2017-07-18T11:01:00.000+01:00

UK Tech-Fest is always an event to look forward to with its interesting variety of international bands, a great atmosphere and organisers who think of everything, including a fine selection of real ales. AveNoctum’s John Skibeat (JS) and Andrew Doherty (AD) were there on the Saturday of this four day event to drink in and review the experience.

Johnski’s mission should he choose to accept it? Absorbing 7 hours of instrumental technicality; music sans vocals.

So what did he learn? Well, it imbued him with a new found appreciation of the drummer’s art. From the maniacally complex blur of sticks and feet on skin to the vast swathes of silence, deftness of touch and light glances of cymbal. The variety of percussion required when creating music devoid of the human voice was vast. And whilst there appeared to be a decreasing use of bass guitar there was conversely the increasing use of ambient recordings in this art form. It was also noticeable just how often certain instruments have risen to the fore in technical music over the years – see reviews for examples.

So… back to the present tense and the first band on the bill for the day. Altostratus, a quartet named after a high cloud formation, play a groovy, light, yet complex, form of technical rock with a soft, elegiac flow. Their bassist looms large in everything they do, setting a strong rhythm, striding wildly from step to step across the stage. The twin guitarists create some beautiful finger shapes, and aren’t afraid of palm-muting or riffing. They switch guitars regularly and at one point a small black box Strandberg guitar, no bigger than a banjo, is produced. Ultimately, they do thrash out one too many bar chords for my liking and just don’t work over their cute riffs for long enough to fully immerse yourself in their songs. Having said that, there are some wonderful flurries of colour to be found in key track “Hidden In A Cloud”. (JS)

Crushing bass lines, a growly vocalist, who looked as if he wanted to cause harm, and all-round heaviness were the meat and veg from Harbinger. Actually, not so much veg. The vocalist made the common mistake of mumbling song titles but I gathered beforehand from the guy on the merch stand that most of this set came from the recently released EP “Human Dust”. I loved the hard-hitting riffs, the heavy bass line and the technical hardcore energy. One vocalist briefly became two – that’s one way of getting over the noise. This was aggressive layered technical metal without ever being too clever about it. Structures held together well even in the onslaught of such brutal chaos. Harbinger had great presence too. The vocalist had grace and humour. Heads banged, faces twisted and the bassist in the multi-coloured shirt, which made me think that a blackcurrant-consuming bird had deposited its stuff, joyously lived and breathed every moment. The band rose to the occasion. This was everything you would hope for from a live performance. (AD)

A thin and pale-looking man in a green hooded wind cheater growled and screamed like a cat, as the instrumentalists around him pumped out irregular, djenty dirt. It stopped. “We are Nycosia”, he announced politely in a refined accent. Thanks. Now back to screams and dissonance of a highly disturbing and entertaining nature. Green Man’s face turned redder as he rapped venom into his mic for our benefit. Oodles and oodles of energy and aggression poured out of every crevice. Chunk – clunk – chunk, they’re angry. Everyone’s angry but happy. Sampled distorted crawliness led to a further mentally deranged breakneck fury fest, breaking down somewhere along the line into mind-altering doom. Oompah-oompah. The experimentation knew no bounds. It was brutal. It turned punishingly dark out there. Somehow we finished up in a cosmic void. This was fine fare for 2 o’clock on a Saturday afternoon. Immaculately presented, this was warped music for creative minds. Well done. Does Nycosia come on prescription? Luckily Green Man didn’t burst a blood vessel. The man needs a nice cup of tea after all that. (AD)

With more Strandberg’s on display for Wisconsin duo (a trio for the tour) The Fine Constant, it certainly becomes apparent that it is this year’s instrument de rigeur. Adored by axe technicians for its lightness and adaptability, the guitarists here show just how adaptable they can be. Lead guitarist, Sarah Longfield, drives the twinkling top-end whereas the tour backing guitarist adds bassier textures with bar chords and riffs. Sarah’s finger shapes, speed and lightness of touch is astonishing and mesmeric in equal measure. She rarely visits the base of the guitar neck to strum, employing the finger-tapping method to great effect. Their music brings a strong arpeggio game, but sadly the performance and finished product feel vacant, like it’s missing something. Perhaps it’s the size of the stage, the loss of momentum between songs or the lack of engagement with the crowd, but for some reason the absence of vocal seems particular noticeable. (JS)

With less ambiguous arpeggios and a groovier soul, The Parallax Method, are three guys who obviously love what they do. Throughout the set, they’re exchanging smiles, teasing each other with new tricks and change-ups. Ben Edis on bass spends the whole set bobbing his head in time with his own rhythm, rocking gently forwards and backwards, and sandal-wearing guitarist Danny Beardsley isn’t far behind him. The drummer plays intense, rapid rhythms and displays huge technical skills. This band know their way around their instruments but they still fall short on variety. There is much similarity between the songs but what is there is solid. Pulling out of the groove to develop the layers would help lift what good foundations they have laid. (JS)

My immediate impression of seeing Exist Immortal on stage was that they are a well-drilled band. Co-ordinated head-banging, movement and horns gave a slick appearance. Musically, deep waves flowed through a heavily progressive sound. The singer mixed growls and clean vocals very well. Normally I pick up bands for having insufficient presence, but at the start I felt there was too much. All the gesturing and posturing were those of self-appointed, posing rock gods. The music itself had power and energy. There was plenty of energy in fact and moreover plenty of hair on stage to swing. And it flowed – the songs were strong, the riffs were solid and dark, and the clean vocals added impact to this melodic heaviness. The singer looked like Damian Wilson and when he spoke sounded like him. The vocal delivery was more akin to Scar Symmetry. Inciting the crowd to chant “we are non believers” was a bit daft, I thought, and the bassist became unhooked in his enthusiasm, but the stage performance settled down after initially being distracting. The crowd bounced, even the guy with the bandaged foot. I’d quite like to listen to the recorded version of these songs without the distraction of seeing these guys prancing about and without the wall of sound. I suspect they would be rather good. Well, on a hunch I bought Exist Immortal’s album “Breathe” (2016) so I guess I’ll find that out soon. (AD)

Maxi Curnow, producer, composer, fire-fighter and Tech-Fest favourite, always goes down well with the crowd and here it is no surprise to see just how well his unique brand of jazzy, progressive, groove-laden tech metal is received – he takes the adoration with a series of appreciative nods, thank yous and humble blushes. Further comment would be somewhat unfair seeing as, due to rumbling bellies, neither our intrepid reviewers got to witness his full set. (JS)

Dutch quartet, Exivious, featuring current and ex-members of Dodecahedron and Cynic, greeted us with the news that they were (like a couple of others) on their farewell tour. They certainly gave us a big echoing sound to absorb. Imagine yourself being in the belly of a whale, hearing the groaning of the ocean beyond its ribcage. Such was the impact of combining a multitude of effects pedals with an impressive and aggressive drummer. Some songs breathed fire, some froze in our veins. They certainly maintained a steely resolve throughout, their respective members smiling with each twist of the story conjured. Indeed, our lead guitarist seemed lost in his own little world; eyes covered by shades, ears covered by headphones, rocking and rolling his way to oblivion. With so little crowd interaction, the “all-male futuristic instrumental hit machine” left us a little bemused but certainly with something to mull over. (JS)

“Platfarm faave” was the sole contribution to humanity that I ever heard from the man on the gate at Hull Paragon station. It didn’t matter where you were going. It was always platfarm faave. The man was a legend. Not yet legends but also from Hull are The Colour Line. They certainly took the dull out of Hull. The band looked excited. Soon they were up and at us. Mayhem followed. The vocalist, guitarist and bassist ran around and jumped on things amid punk hardcore energy and noise. They wouldn’t stand still for Johnski’s photo, the buggers. The vocalist was in the moshpit and we were on the first song. I found myself confronted by the burly bassist. No time for chit-chat. It was carnage but let’s not forget they can play. Here was technical hardcore with extra ferocity but as a guaranteed bonus the rhythms were infectious and providing fuel. “I am extremely unfit”, announced the vocalist who set about disproving the point. Smash-bang-wallop: the noise was total, there was much kicking and screaming and hammering, and the songs were great. The vocalist reflected: “In our wildest dreams did we not imagine that so many people …. would be leaving the room at once”. The tension built up as “R.E.D” started with a tribal technical rhythm. The angry joy was abundant. Did I hear a little jazz insertion? Where to look? The singer was on the amp and in the crowd again. The guitarist jumped on the security guy’s shoulders. Leads got tied up. The guitarist stood on the drum kit. Heavy, heavy, thunder and chaos. The set was cut off at 4.30 but with a bit of persuasion all round, The Colour Line were back to play “Colonel Sanders Flying Machine” to delight us with more technical anarchy. And inevitably, orchestrated by the vocalist, it finished up with a mass pile-up of bodies in the middle of the floor. The guitarist confirmed to me later that the band is breaking up and they have just one more gig to play in their home city. That’ll be a riot. Newark 0, Hull 4. (AD)

It’s hard to believe that The Algorithm are a duo, albeit one with a neat symbiotic relationship, considering the level of noise that emerges from their respective tools. Whereas Jean Ferry batters various drums and cymbals with sticks, Rémi Gallego sends loop after loop skittering into the ether before backing it up all up with a chaotic set of tones and rhythmic patterns powered by synth and guitar. The effect is to place their music somewhere between dance and metal. It’s a destructive sound, bordering on drum and bass, prog and at times breakbeat. Occasionally, you’ll seriously wonder which instrument is playing percussion. Was that backbeat from the synth, the double-kick, or the guitar? The crowd are lapping it up and between songs shout “Oui! Oui!”, baying for the Gallic master-class to play on. With the drum-kit up near the front of the stage, it’s a pretty destructive sound. The force of the double-kick and the way it mashes with the guitar chugs (with the whole meshing to form what sounds like dog barks) bully your chest and lift you off your feet. They hammer through crowd favourites like “Brute Force” and “Deadlock” before letting their collective imaginations fly for “Floating Point” and “Machine”. Then, just for shits and giggles they attempt to scramble your psyche by tripping the light fantastic with “Access Granted” and that subversive section of ragga/dubstep. The circle pit slows from a mad-dash to a slow-motion jive and the party and, indeed, the day ramps up a level. (JS)

Compared to previous acts, the Gigantic stage hall was fairly empty, maybe on account of the fact that people wanted their dinner. Around 50 spectators gathered to watch Red Seas Fire. This band hadn’t set the world ablaze on the last occasion I saw them. Here again there was plenty of honest energy but what I heard seemed uncoordinated. The angry tech rhythm wasn’t especially angry. The clean vocals weren’t strong and were a bit whiny. The strength lay in the drums department. Here and there Red Seas Fire came out of their shell with all guns blazing and showed they were capable of rip-roaring, bouncing metal. Judging by the number of members of other bands in the audience, maybe Red Seas Fire could be seen as a band’s band. (AD)

My expectations were high for Uneven Structure. Other than segments, I hadn’t heard their latest album “Partition” (2017) before today, but their previous works and live performances told me I was going to witness something mesmerising, dark and epic. Normally silky smooth and lofty in spite or even because of the weight from the four instrumentalists, I found this set hard work as it never seemed to get going. Matthieu’s vocals haunt and float when he’s not growling, but here it was difficult for him to generate atmosphere above the wall of djenty noise. “Partition” evidently doesn’t engender fog. It does require immense sounds. Another guitarist appeared. The young drummer looked like was having the time of his life. The other instrumentalists exuded a mixture of gravitas and pleasure. This was too lyric-heavy. More atmosphere please. There was atmosphere and Uneven Structure built it up as is their wont, but this was no pressure cooker with ever increasing tension. “Partition” would seem to be a series of distinct experiences. I get that Uneven Structure would want to expand their sound, but it was as if Matthieu were making his lengthy vocal appeal through thick clouds. At one point the wall of sound accompanied a slow, lingering and emotional ballad. I’d not heard a djent ballad before. The power can be overwhelming. The complexity is haunting. It’s about tones of darkness. There’s little light here. It was impressive in flashes, but the sound mix and the lack of obvious logic in the musical story-telling wasn’t making this easy. Matthieu almost fell off the drum platform as he initiated a series of pungent explosions. This could be very heavy. The fog then appeared. The sad looking guitarist played a melancholic tune. The other two guitarists enigmatically faced the back of the stage as Matthieu sang and the drummer injected sophistication. The song built up and everyone was in the game again. The wall of sound and growls were as ever immense. The guitarist in front of me fell to the floor in exhaustion or emotion, not sure which. Fiery death metal followed. Matthieu incited the crowd. The crowd responded. The band lined up and subjected us to a wall of djent and enormity. Matthieu roared and floated dreamily above the deathly heaven. This was Uneven Structure of old – the start of Februus (2011) in fact. Finally, I felt uplifted. And it built up to a crescendo of power, ferocity and intensity. It was evident that the band felt it too. It was a magnificent ending but to this point I struggled with this set. The depth and complexity are unquestioned. Maybe if I’d known what “Partition” is about, it might have helped, but I felt that there was a lack of continuity coming from these heavy progressive tableaux. Matthieu struggled to rise above the intensity of sounds, and his message was lost for me. Yet in spite of my reservations and to some extent disappointment, this was still an impressive experience. (AD)

As I stood and watched the lads from Andorran death metal outfit Persefone warm up, it became apparent that something wasn’t quite right. Little clue did I have that I and the eventual audience were to witness something truly special. Just before they started playing in earnest, frontman Mark Martins Pia made a solemn announcement to the audience that their band-mate Miguel had been hospitalised before the show. However, they had agreed not to let the fans down and plough on despite no longer having a keyboard player, or backing vocalist, and as they had discovered, no compatible samples or effects (somewhat key to a complete performance). It later transpired, that they were also about to experience the full gamut of technical issues from loose ear monitors to PA system failure. However, true to their word, through shrugged shoulders, bit lips, hung heads and apologetic grimaces they “had fun” with it and put on an absolute stonker of a show. Having been accused previously of weak performances and crowd interaction, they tore into their set and constantly offered feedback, praising the crowd who reacted with nothing but joyous abandon and rapturous applause. Pia basically gave us a lesson in how important the bond between band and audience can be. He leapt from front to back of the stage; prowled from left to right. He climbed risers, speaker stacks, crowd-surfed and balanced precariously on the barriers with multiple arms supporting him. He even conducted the circle pit from inside it! The man was a tour de force. Yes, there were whole sections missing but where possible Pia sung (a surprise to even him) the clean backing vocals whilst the crowd hummed the missing samples. At one point this heroic frontman even ran to the front of the crowd to ram his mic under the lips of an intro-whistling crowd member for the masterful “Living Waves”. They improvised with a jam session to cram in “Spiritual Migration” and they climaxed with the epic “Mind As Universe”. When they laid their instruments down they found a multitude of new fans wanting to meet them to wish them and their missing brother well. This was a total master-class in going above and beyond expectations; of how to win friends and influence people and… to have a blast doing it. (JS)

Having misread the band’s logo beforehand, Obscura was a lucky dip choice for me as I knew nothing about them. That isn’t necessarily a bad thing. At least I was coming into it without pre-conceived ideas. A couple of knowledgeable people did tell me earlier in the day that Obscura are German and play technical death metal, which given this event isn’t so surprising. A potential distraction was the fact that I was bringing myself down after the improvised brilliance of Persefone. What I heard initially from Obscura was very technical, very clinical and very heavy. A sampled symphony did nothing to dispel a cacophonous high octane death metal song. This made way for another growly song marked by more heavily technical and purposeful progression. It moved along like an industrial machine. Progress continued to be mechanical, military even. I gathered that Obscura were from Munich and released albums called “Cosmogenesis” and “Akróasis” but for me it made little difference. Each song, wherever it came from, seemed to be borne of an apparent contractual obligation comprising the establishment of an unwavering technical pattern, growls and a clunking progression. Movements were made to order. The spokesman didn’t help by berating the audience for not being interested in the explanation of a song’s timing. He invited the audience to join in – to the growly parts? Band members smiled but there was no fun. There was no spirit or soul. “Sermon of the Seven Suns” was fast and hard but with the same technical riff it still managed to be colourless. To the band’s credit, they played well and tightly, and the grooves were good, but in spite of the occasional epic moment, this was all built on a classic model and came out flat and stingy for me. So whilst Obscura’s set wasn’t actually bad, there was nothing memorable. Once they were in a pattern, they found themselves stuck in it and it was all very pedestrian. To counter my own negativity Obscura have released four albums, and judging by the healthy crowd at the merch stand and a complimentary comment by a fellow-festival goer, it’s clear that Obscura have something to offer. I just never found out what it was. (AD)

Predictably, considering their decision to call time after 16 years, melodic technical groove merchants Textures announced early on that this was to be their last TechFest. With the crowd immediately desperate to fully engage with their last chance to catch their heroes, frontman Daniel De Jongh picked the masses up in his meaty palm and carried them on a journey through their colossal back catalogue from “Drive”, “Regenesis” and “Storm Warning” to “Stream of Consciousness” and “Laments of Icarus”. The crowd-surfing was immediate; the circle-pit and moshing ensued. The band responded with shit-eating grins, breakdown after breakdown, juddering tech scrambles and a cacophony of battered drum-skins. The atmospheric backwash drifted over proceedings for “New Horizons” and the lightshow ramped up a level with sweeping spots and blazing strobes. The catcalls and whistles emanating from the crowd reached fever pitch between tracks and regular chants of “AY! AY! AY!” drowned out De Jongh’s attempts at banter. No matter, he simply waited then tore them a new arsehole with his barking vocal and skittish whoops. His range is unequalled; his rich quality of tone is to be marvelled at. Those with hair wind-milled, those with fists raised them. Then following the monstrous “Singularity”, the band broke for an unnecessarily long interlude of melodic synth. Blue lights from the stage, lighters from the crowd, but the momentum was lost, the wait monotonous. When they returned De Jongh actually felt the need to say “we’re back”. They did manage to pull it all back eventually but only by demanding a hangar-wide wall of death. The division between the fans and the onlookers immediately became apparent but those more up for the craic, soon pulled the strings of a circle pit together as the rhythm switched to a gallop. The band began pulling stunts like co-ordinated backward walks across the stage, the bassist gave up playing and allowed De Jongh to bang his mic on the strings to set the rhythm, the stage-jockeying began and the show began to descend into farce. Happily, the energetic nature of their songs and their performance pulled them through the roughest of patches and we all retired with buzzing ears and rosy cheeks. (JS)

The final word: as hoped for, this was a day of great bands, but what was particularly striking was the friendliness and natural camaraderie amongst everyone present. Even the security staff had smiles on their faces while doing their job efficiently. UK Tech-Fest world is one where people talk to strangers happily, make space for others and share their bottle of water. Band members are around to chat and everyone’s happy. World leaders please note.

Review: John Skibeat / Andrew Doherty
Photos: John Skibeat

Album Review: From Eden To Exile – Modern Disdain

2017-06-08T10:59:00.001+01:00

With vast swathes of blustering labyrinthine riffing and warm, throaty vocals, this smacks of New Wave of American Heavy Metal yet brings it back home with a rich, thrashed-up thread running through its core.

From the off, “Gospel Untold” offers up a rich amalgamation of groove, death, power and thrash. The scattergun riffing, winding leads, focussed roars and battering drums scramble to get at you as if from every angle. Following close behind, the title-track pulls back a little from the storming pace but is no less impacting. Think Sylosis’ on top-form and you’ll get an idea of the crush that these guys’ can produce when they hit top gear. Liam Turland’s complex and virulent drum insanity deserves a special mention as he produces panicky rolls that come at you in waves, a crisp snare, punchy double-kick and supremely tight drops and change-ups. A ‘core-loving perfectionist might suggest that the breakdowns need to smack down harder and more often, but we’re splitting hairs here..

Tracks like “Victim” and “What You’ve Done” have the instant gratification that marks out bands like Lamb of God and All Shall Perish but also mimic the longer game and offered by the tech-minded – think Black Crown Initiate or Trigger The Bloodshed. The lyrics are intense and filthy enough to fire up a crowd – “I will not rest while you’re still alive / Don’t say a fucking word” (“Victim”) even comes complete with dropout and Randy Blythe-esque “whooooop”. Or perhaps you prefer the last line from “Sentiment”… “For safe keeping I will cut out your heart / I am living all my dreams”. That’s sick, man.

Over 36 rancid minutes, this Northampton quintet produce gem after gem, alternating their attack with either a co-ordinated bass and drum power move, or by firing up their range of winding, interwoven melodics. The track “From Eden To Exile”, stripped of complexity and not nearly as playful, is about the only thing that feels a little laboured. The rest is solid gold and, having seen them live, I can assure they bring just as much force and fire to the stage too. If you dig music that puts up a damned good fight, you’ve come to the right place.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2017/06/from-eden-to-exile-modern-disdain-attic/

Album Review: Ketch - The Anthems Of Dread

2017-05-20T12:46:00.001+01:00

Hailing from Arvada, Colorado, a city built on the original site where the first nugget of Rockies gold was discovered in 1850, doom-dwellers Ketch have discovered something far darker lurking in their waters.

Anyone dipping their sluice pan in this river will find a mixture of death, sludge and, as their album-title so eloquently describes, plenty of dread. This first long-player from them comes with their self-titled EP tacked on the end so this release certainly isn’t short on playtime.

They open up with a lilting bassline that curls itself around your senses like smoke, but soon bursts into flame and meaty riffery. With the screeching vocal completing the set, those listening will be sent whirling like dervishes, banging heads, punching fists. “Fertile Rites By Sacrifice” is a fine introduction – simple, aggressive and weighty.

From here things start getting a little fraught as the disturbing madness that lurks within their song-writing starts tearing the structures apart. Chaotic rhythms, furred-up electrics, anomalous chords and bristling vocal that tears maniacally at the flesh. Rumbling butchery that eventually catches the groove before suddenly disappearing from view.

“En Nomine Eius” [translation: “In The Name Of Jesus Christ”] echoes elegiacally, warbling sweetly before tearing your face clean off with a single swipe. The double-kicking fury is bone-shattering. Like a mix of Iron Monkey and Slabdragger, with hints of Monolord and Weedeater, this is heaviosity in overdrive; low-lidded and psychotic. Pitching straight into “Monsters Of The World”, an atonal death growling bastard from the very depths of Hell itself. You know something’s afoot when your cat fixes you with narrowed eyes and pins its ears back yet refuses to move from the room.

One sore point – “Estranged”, with its tuneless piano collapse and echoing whispers intoning scripture it’s clearly designed to bring to mind the horrors that lurk in the mind, but by the second play simply starts drives you nuts. “ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES JACK A DULL BOY…”

Happily, all’s well that ends well as they resort to type. Oh, and their 5-track EP that follows has plenty to offer the doom fiends amongst you. Definitely, check out “Counting Sunsets” – it’s a cold-blooded killer of a track.

Ketch don’t do things by halves. This is hearty, brutal fare with exotic flourishes that hint at something beyond your usual experience. Slap on your death mask, bring your weed and come get some.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2017/05/ketch-the-anthems-of-dread-aesthetic-death/

Album Review: Royal Thunder - Wick

2017-05-20T12:02:00.000+01:00

Grabbing the chance to wade into Royal Thunder’s world is always a bit of a pleasure. The Atlantan quartet are right up my alley often warping the softer edges of classic rock and grunge with deft psych touches to create a warm, unctuous sound. New album, Wick, has promised to offer something a little different though so we’ll see in which direction they’ve veered.

It’s a slow, melancholic start with Mlny Parsonz’ strong, part-growled vocal outpourings, saving the weak MOR melodies, rhythmic plodding and cloying, overwrought threads from anonymity. Happily, as the tempo picks up, to coincide with the rollicking force of “The Sinking Chair”, the disparate structures begin to mesh together and throb beautifully. Her vocal even kicks into growl mode and the twisted overdrive in Josh Weaver’s guitar really ram home the band’s intent and passion. It’s a right old rocker all wrapped up in bookends of feedback.

There’s elements of stoner plod, dirty pop and blues boogie in here, but it’s the rich vein of frazzled country that shines through strongest of all. The balletic “Plans” is pure Black Crowes, the over-dramatics and soporific nature of “Push” and “The Well” are tinged with Creedence and Fleetwood Mac, whilst the lilting kick and rattle of “Anchor” is delivered with a sneer, a swagger and a truckful of capricious intensity that only comes from extended Country & Western immersion – I bet they recorded it wearing ten gallon hats.

Ultimately it’s the weaker numbers, such as the loose-limbed “We Slipped” and the wheedling, naval-gazing title-track that leave this coming up short of their best material. Despite the clipped song structures, multi-instrumentalism and new clean lines they are sporting this, by no means, is an album that has strayed too far from the nest but it does come fired up by this strong sense of purpose. It’s interesting to notice that Parsonz found making the album a bit of a struggle. “It was a fight, but to hear it now, to see it finished, is so gratifying. I’m looking at it, going we’re done, it’s over, be free.” For me, the overwhelming sense from reading that quote is one of relief, rather than achievement. Let’s hope that the pieces fall into place a little easier next time.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2017/04/royal-thunder-wick-spinefarm/

https://www.facebook.com/RoyalThunderMusic

Album Review: Karg - Weltenasche

2017-05-20T11:53:00.000+01:00

What Austrian J.J. (the artist formerly known as V. Wahntraum) does is a mouthful, but what the one-man Austrian band calls himself is not. He dabbles in ambient-oriented, post-atmospheric black metal but he simply calls his project KARG.

Weltenasche is his fifth full-length studio album and is the first to be completely performed in the dialect J.J. grew up with and which is spoken around the mountains of his hometown. Being gloomy and emotional, you’ll pick up subtle hints of Alcest and Lantlôs in here.

Take, “Crevasse”. It’s an 11-minute opener that lays bare his tonal calling card. Part-ambient, part-aggressive, the construction is detailed and invites introspection. It’s steady opening and resplendent chiming background is quickly obliterated by a viciously shrieked vocal that repeatedly drowns the softly-spoken underscore whilst the introduction of massively-distorted guitar scrawl kicks it fully into submission.

The rhythm bucks and shakes as the drum patterns shift constantly making it tough to grab a firm grip on proceedings. The juxtaposition of rough and smooth creates an antagonistic power play but the overall sense of drama is unerring. Melancholia envelops all – easy-listening this is not.

By the end of third track, “Le Couloir De Ombres”, we are already well over 30 minutes into this beast with the promise of at least another 45 minutes to go and already the abrupt key changes and panicky, affected nature of the song-writing is causing heart-palpitations. Grinding on as I must I find the shackles tightening and crave freedom. It becomes beyond oppressive, I start to writhe, burn, itch and fester. Not due to the extreme nature of the music, but the incessant, imposing structures that obliterate one another. It makes no sense.

It’s a tough one – these could all be special places to the right ear, but to mine the levels of perseverance required to fully engage the bronco requires me to strip my psyche to the bone. Each vast piece takes us careering into uncharted territory. Through NWOBHM, 80s kitsch, recordings of blazing rows and into incendiary spots of classical music.

Ultimately it is the dull, recycling chord structures that kill it. This is J.J.’s own all-consuming psychosis, not ours. It’s just too easy an album to walk away from. Without rules, there is only chaos and this is what miserably deliberate, self-absorbed chaos sounds like.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2017/01/karg-weltenasche-art-of-propaganda/

https://www.facebook.com/kargband
https://karg.bandcamp.com

Album Review: Queen Elephantine - Kala

2017-05-20T11:40:00.000+01:00

With a production value as rough as a hangover, Queen Elephantine cast a little one-take stardust over their music. It’s lo-fi and dissolute. Hearing them recorded can’t be far away from the aural experience of seeing them live. Feedback and fuzz are their friends. Farting sub-bass is a constant bedfellow and hissing snare is their heartbeat.

In opener, “Quartered” they thrust together a visceral, spiked form of electro-punk and staple it to the slow drift of melancholic doom. Think of a heavy-lidded, tripping version of Bleach-era Nirvana and you won’t be far off. The two-chord attack of “Quartz” (and twin “Deep Blue”) takes us a step further by introducing yawning vocal stabs with spasmodic bursts of guitar. The mid-track drop into a maudlin build lets the bass rumble play on alone to really dig out a groove.

Elsewhere, the tribal toms of “Onyx” lay the rhythm for a slow-burning psychedelic jam: sliding, trundling, chaotically pulsing and phasing with discordance, chaotic input and abstract warmth. A kind of loose-seated Weedeater with added feedback. To finish, the marvellously-titled “Throne Of The Void In The Hundred Petal Lotus” is a sedate, amorphous sludge oozing its way down a blood-red river clogged with writhing, pain-racked bodies and in through the gates of Hell.

What you’ll find is so stripped, so devoid of complexity, so unloveable and so unrefined that it offers little beyond that initial impact of rediscovering the thrill of the avant-garde; the early flush of youth where quality mattered little. If lo-fi doom is your bag, you’ll get a kick from this but you won’t cherish it for long.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/11/queen-elephantine-kala-transcending-obscurity/

https://queenelephantine.bandcamp.com/album/kala
https://facebook.com/queenelephantine

Album Review: Asteroid – III

2016-11-28T14:14:00.001+00:00

The “reactivation” of Swedish trio Asteroid, following a two year hiatus, has quickly led to the release of a seven-track third album rather unsurprisingly called III. Mostly we are dealing with the standard fayre of chunky swathes of fat fuzz over a groovy shuffling beat interspersed with thick, meaty riffs and walking solos. Like a slumbering Graveyard or Horisont, this is inspired retro; an evocative step back into the crackling bliss-buzz of 70s rock n’ roll.

“Pale Moon” has a recycling topline riff that buzzes about like a bee trapped in a bottle. It’s a total earworm but, by the third run-through, not in a good way. It’s a blessed relief when its steady disintegration into white noise is finally complete. “Last Days” swings a little more; a loose-limbed slice of Americana with a sweet, folky hue.

Robin Hirse’s emotive vocal wraps itself lazily around the rhythmic backline drawing you temptingly into each track. His lyrics are often dark – “Death will come, he always does / for each and every one of us” – complementing the melancholic tones that lurk within the music. For “‘Til Dawn” he gnarls up his delivery to match the bass-boogie and old-school riffery. For “Wolf & Snake” he bristles as his vocal drops in the mix and takes on a powerful, cracking quality to it. Solid, intense and heady at every turn, the groove makes this a sure-fire stand-out.

With the tracks sliding off the bat, chilled, smooth and easy. it’s a bit of a shock when “Them Calling” hits. Suddenly the music gets urgent, driven with menacing mantras and demonic choral chanting. Warnings such as “Like the pain of a rusty chain around your neck / I’ll make damned sure that you never will forget” quickly make you realise we have strayed from the true path. Rather brilliantly, the metallic tang of steel invades the chords and the distortion and overdrive begin to shatter our repose.

III is a cracking little step back in time with a nice twist in the tail. It’s sadly a tad short at 35 minutes and besides a couple of tracks it fails to bring anything especially new to the table. Having said that it’s spectacularly solid and funnily enough makes for a great driving album.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/11/asteroid-iii-fuzzorama/

Album Review: Nadja - The Stone Is Not Hit By The Sun, Nor Carved With A Knife

2016-11-03T15:50:00.003+00:00

Coming just 5 months after their last album release, Sv, one does wonder quite how Nadja achieve such a level of productivity. I mean, what the hell? Do they live in a recording studio? Do they just live jam this stuff? Yes, it’s basically a 3-track drone-cum-noise album, but it still needs to show ingenuity and progression. Well, with this particular pair of inquiring minds and their safe hands, I’m confident they can still steer it to a satisfying conclusion. Can they?

Well, there’s definitely some progression here. More melody than before, some interesting warm tones and FX tweaks. But I’m getting ahead of myself. That mysterious album title – what gives? Well, it comes from a runic inscription on a Norwegian gravestone – the Eggja Stone – which actually provides some of the lyrical content on the record. And the tracks?

“The Stone” is loaded with elephantine potency. It twinkles like splintering glass falling upon its top layer, and sinks down to the alien, sub-aqueous thunder of metal under extreme pressure. After ten minutes, spasms of electric guitar kick in to set up the whirring, bass-heavy clank of some vast industrial machine. Blasts of steaming hiss squirt as if from pin-holes as ethereal voices whisper non-sequiturs and pistons drive the beast towards a semi-melodic, melancholic middle-section before returning to the melee.

“The Sun” is the lightest, most appealing prospect I’ve heard from Nadja for a good few years. With rich, ambient tones and emotive, spiralling stringwork, this plays like an ambient, post-rock track not too dissimilar to something from the back catalogues of Palms or OSI. There are vocals that whisper around the edge of your lobes, without ever taking root inside your ear canals. They are sung as if from behind some parallel dimension. There are waves, there is a beach and a sun and someone is talking close to your ear. It’s unsettling, and even more so when the whole image begins to dissolve into a dark malevolence of phantom-like white noise and subterranean crush. A wall of sound, sprawling, crawling and devouring all.

“A Knife” is far less ambitious than its compatriots. It’s a mixture of atmospheric, ambient drift, vibrant distortion and bristling fuzz and forms a 22-minute amorphous journey through a skyscape of sound.

Ultimately, each movement owns the space in which it exists, each differing in character, each stamping its authority upon the listener. Fans of drone and ambience will find these new worlds excitingly moreish. Is there enough to warrant repeat journeys? Considering its mammoth 79-minute runtime, maybe not for a while but, hell, we’re glad we visited.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/10/nadja-the-stone-is-not-hit-by-the-sun-gizeh-records/

Album Teaser: Allegaeon - Proponent For Sentience

2016-10-24T21:02:00.001+01:00

Every now and then a new album pops up that deserves your undivided attention. Today, I'll give you a single teaser from it to whet your appetite - the excellent "All Hail Science".

Enjoy, friends.

Album Review: pg.lost – Versus

2016-10-12T17:10:00.001+01:00

Having previously written music with effect-saturated vocals, the Swedish quartet have gone for instrumental, more synth-driven pieces this time around, apparently due to Kristian Karlsson’s (bass, vocals) recent heavy touring schedule playing keys with Cult of Luna. Guitarist Gustav Almberg has commented that “I guess this has helped us to take the band into a bit of a new direction sound wise“.

Richly-layered, warm and emotive the album opens on the thumpingly heavy “Ikaros”. The synth fizzes, the drums pulse and the guitar fires off arpeggios to keep the whole piece drifting along. There’s short snatches of something akin to 80s computer games lurking in there too all leading to the maniacally crazed sandstorm finish.

Moving through the driving thrust and distorted bass of “Off The Beaten Path” we alight at the oblique Giorgio Moroder-esque synthetic wash, poppish dynamics and cinematic trickery of “Monolith”. Here, the music begins to stab and test the listener to create a force that unites the pacier groove of the kind displayed by Station-era Russian Circles with the dark tones and blackened crush of the sorely-missed ISIS.

It does become apparent as you dig deeper that the subtlety of this particular instrumental album often means the music slips into classic rhythmic shapes (four-four beats, elongated stretches without rise, fall or melody, etc.). In these moments, you’d usually find lyrics or instrumental solos. Here, pg.lost have resiliently left their music undeveloped and, yes, uncluttered as it is, each piece is given room to breathe. It’s certainly a matter of taste whether you buy into that styling though. I have to confess I crave a more developed, instantaneous instrumental sound but that’s just me.

Stretching 7 songs over a 53-minute runtime, the band certainly rely on the listener taking time out to appreciate the music. Those with short attention spans need not apply. It’s just too easy to freewheel past the gentler or more simplistic tracks like the title-track or “Deserter”.

Happily they do like a good rumble to finish up so you’ll probably be shaken awake for the stark, bristling ambience of “A Final Vision”. It’s a joy that is every bit the equal of the wonderful, naturalistic flow that If These Trees Could Talk seem to generate so effortlessly.

At the end of the day, despite its impressive dynamic range and lush sonics, it doesn’t really add a great deal of new ideas to this rapidly-expanding genre. Despite that, it’s still a thoroughly solid addition from a record label that is getting a habit for polishing rough diamonds.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/10/pg-lost-versus-pelagic/

Split-EP Review: Ef / Tiny Fingers – Vāyu

2016-10-12T16:58:00.001+01:00

This split-EP is a collaboration between a ten-year old act from Gothenburg and a leading force in the Israeli music scene.

With a decade of live performances under their belt, the DIY post-rockers Ef have played with a vast range of bands and have built up a reputation for appeasing fans of both sweet sounds and heavy crush. Here, they set about drawing inspiration from the natural world to piece together a heart-warming wash of colour.

“Hiraeth” stretches into view with its exposed soft underbelly instantaneously exposed. It’s a gently tentative, rich piece of ambient music with building drums and an orchestral flood of violins. It’s only at its climax that the claws come out as the band show they are unafraid of tackling distortion and discordance. “Sju” works the emotions a little harder by managing to fuse melancholy and warming afterglow. Within a heartbeat rhythm, yawning violins and a sparkling synth wash, they filter the echoing sound of chirruping nature. Each delicate note is placed carefully and used sparingly, with the focus on space and echo, to create a series of continuous, supple fluctuations.

The remarkably odd “11ShotsAndSuddenDeath” moves keenly from piano-led meander into what feels like a reprise of “Sju”. It honestly feels like we’ve been dumped midway through a song into a chorus. “And down we fall” is a catchy hook but after the millionth time it does get repetitive. The song feels incomplete despite the fact that it has two natural conclusions within it. Beyond even that we find it then dragging on unnecessarily to 8:11. It’s the unconvincing song that won’t die.

Next on the bill we get instrumental psych-rockers Tiny Fingers. With their diverse sound, these dudes have been asked to perform with such diverse acts as The Mars Volta, Damian Marley and the Dub Trio. When you hear their music, it’s not difficult to see the connections.

“Dust” offers up a broken backbeat with samples, coloured with a rich cosmic vibe and a smattering of electronic effects courtesy of the fantastically-named keyboard player, Nimrod Bar. Wild, overdriven guitar a la Monster Magnet completes the set as suddenly we find ourselves in a whole other universe to the one we began in. After pitching up such a curveball, “Sanhedrin” simply hits it out of the park. A super-smooth jazzy set-up with brushed drums drives a sampled wash burning with portent. Like waves crashing back and forth on the beach it shimmers on and on, morphing to oblivion and I love it.

One presumes it’s the pair’s vintage sound that convinced them to combine EP’s but one suspects it’s more the case of a label alpha dragging along a rough diamond. It seems a pretty safe bet that most will come away having discovered something they dig, but also plenty of filler that they wish they hadn’t uncovered.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/10/ef-tiny-fingers-vayu-pelagic-records/

Album Review: Tardive Dyskinesia - Harmonic Confusion

2016-09-26T15:38:00.000+01:00

Chances are that despite their 10-year existence and their recent UK Tech-Fest performance, you may still not have heard of this lot. Judging by the amount of sparks that are flying off the Greek metallers’ latest full-length and their peers’ early reaction to them it’s a situation that will soon be remedied. Textures’ Jochem Jacobs is already a fan which is no surprise when you consider the parallels that can be drawn with his chosen music scene and even his own band.

You see, Tardive Dyskinesia have an unfettered view of metal, so even if you’re not a specific fan of the progressive or technical stuff, you’re bound to suddenly find yourself nodding along due to the band drawing from such a wide range of sources. Motorhead, Gojira, Maiden, Meshuggah, Devin, Dragonforce – they’ve got all angles covered.

The first four tracks might just turn your brain to mush with its multi-part constructions but the deeper you dig, the simpler and less invasive the songwriting gets. “Insertion” introduces their passion for fast skidding chords. It’s a technique that pops up at regular intervals and by “Fire Red Glass Heart” one that has developed into spasmodic, polyrhythmic djent. It all soon releases into harmonised vocals then spinning off into techy runs and stoner roars before dropping into a slow-build of riff-picking. Smacks of Gojira and Textures are its bedrock but it’s the explosive lyric “You can run but you cannot hide” that provides the ultimate smack to the chops. “The Electric Sun” mashes Baroness’ sharp tones into Purified In Blood’s visceral delivery before dissolving into a Skyharbor-esque progressive wash.

Those hunting for a real crusher should skip straight to the Meshuggah-worship of “Self Destructive Haze”. It’s the aural equivalent of dropping a stink-bomb on a packed escalator. Even here amidst the bag of nails gargling and battering chugs they find a moment to breakout into a passage of uplifting chimes with accompanying vocoder. Listen very closely and you’ll pick out the true stars – the insane drum patterns and interlocking slap bass notation. As the album hits its middle, the band start opening out the structures; reducing the speed of their attack. Soon we’re wading into moments such as the arm-waving chorus of a “Thread Of Life” (inspired by Way Of All Flesh-era Gojira or I’ll eat my hat), the instrumental middle-switch and “Everlong”-aping rawk (yep, Foo Fighters) of “Concentric Waves”, the string-taps, arpeggios and jazz sax of “Savior Complex”, and post-rock noodling (a la Heights) of “Chronicity”.

The final shaking of Tardive’s creative box of tricks is saved until right near the end – “Echoes 213”. Its a track that ripples with expansive guitar soloing, progressive arpeggios, fluid rhythms and cosmic touches which provide the gentile comedown into dead air. It would be remiss of me to not also mention that, whilst listening, I was reminded of the kind of Deconstruction-level Devin Townsend production. That is about as fine a compliment that I can give.

So, are we excited? I am! Personally, the listening experience was a lot like the band had thrown down my vinyl collection and then reconstructed it from the shards. Yet, I’d be happy to point out that Harmonic Confusion is full of originality too. Sure there’s a wealth of inspiration here but it ain’t imitation. Tardive manage to reinvent their source material and keep each part flowing in the same direction to the same destination point. If this doesn’t get them noticed by the big players, then… well, I’ll eat my other hat.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/09/tardive-dyskinesia-harmonic-confusion-playfalse-records/

Album Review: Devin Townsend Project - Transcendence

2016-08-26T17:00:00.000+01:00

Canadian musician/producer Devin Townsend is an enigma. His career and discography is mind-boggling both in the quality and variety of material within, but also the sheer volume. To date, he has released something approximating 25 studio albums (9 as a solo artist and 16 in collaboration with others), and that is before we begin to scratch the surface of his early musical career. If you're not a metalhead though, the chances are you won't even have heard of him. By Jove, are you missing out.

Take this latest effort as an example. Shorn, literally (see right), of his extreme metallic leanings, we find him back teaming up with his self-titled 'Project' to continue his exploration of the arena-filling euphoric rock that so endeared 2014's Sky Blue release to his fanbase. Essentially, what we have here is part-symphonic rock, part-pagan folk with short stabs at both dream pop and power metal. Digging in, we find another chapter has been added to "The Devin Townsend Book Of More Is More". Now that hasn't always been the case, but this is new Devin here; clean, sober and loving life. In fact, he's really opened up to the point where he's now collaborating with his band. It's a process that he has described as "more streamlined, more efficient and more fulfilling". Essentially that means he churns out a load of rough material, brings it to rehearsal and the band help him smooth it all out.

Anneke Van Giersbergen is back adding her infectious, joyous vocal to the mix. Here though, surprisingly, she is used more sparingly, adding harmonies to lift the vocal blend rather than performing a reprise of the starring role she took on the band's last release. So less is more? Huh? Certainly, those thrilling bursts from her that bubble up through the mix, pop like little, effervescent fireworks. Less may actually be more effective! It's almost hard to imagine a Dev album without her now. Wouldn't it be like drinking flat Coke? That gospel choir fill is also back making things "epic" and here he uses them to flood the senses - just don't try counting the layers.

There's strong hints from his back catalogue, from Sky Blue, Epicloud and also Infinity. In fact, originally featuring on that 1999 Infinity album, the opener is a remaster of the song "Truth". That, coupled with an inspired remix of Ween's "Transdermal Celebration" bookend the album. The former re-introduces Dev's calling card; his ultra-high production values and those big, expansive layers. The latter is catchy as hell and is certainly worth inclusion if just for the lush line "Laid on the lawn, he's already home when the morning rain hits his face". Despite it's spaced-out crystal backline, it does feel disconnected from the rest of the album and should be viewed as a bit of a bonus track. Certainly, that 5-minute cosmic, multi-part extended wash smacks of showing off.

In fact it's a slight over-simplification, but you could almost divide this album down the middle. The best tracks do all seem to come straight off the bat. "Stormbending" features Dev at his most heartfelt, belting out his lyrics like his chest is bursting with pride; determined to expand our minds and souls with lines like "Time is a human construct / A new world below the waves". The warbling guitar solo looms large here; a mere hint of its increased use later on. It is back firing behind the strutting pomp of the chugging strings that drive "Failure". The volume of it certainly adds a burst of grunt to Dev's wandering vocal. You do get the sense that he's more interested in building the sonic crush this time round than throwing out unique vocal tricks. It is driving us assuredly down a fantasy/power metal road.

Then, like two magnificent sunbursts we get "Secret Sciences" and "Higher". The catchy riff and superb build of the former invigorates, opening with the intriguing line "Yesterday I woke afraid / unable to discern if the fears were even tangible" before revealing the concept with "Let it go anyway / Let it be a part of yesterday". Essentially the man is preaching that we must love our selves and our kind and to do that we have to be the bigger man in any problem situation; to change our own perception. It's a theme that spreads itself from this core track, threading its way throughout the album. Behind it all, we are wonderfully re-introduced to Anneke and a sublime walking bass guitar riff. That explosion into the chorus is a joy and when the vocal drifts back in the mix there is a creeping top line lead to pick out the hooks.

On to that other doozy, "Higher". From gentle beginnings - an opening hush that echoes elements from 2011's Ghost and even Foo Fighters' own experiment with the soft on 2005's In Your Honor - we hit the exclamation to go "Higher! Higher! Higher!". Rest assured, by the time it hits the track's apex, we're experiencing a mid-section hitting manic technical jazz guitar, complete with brash sweeps, roars and down-tuned chug-obsessed guitar. It all bristles with the same glorious madness that his 2011 Deconstruction album was built upon. Here though, the band always keep the song's heart close by returning to the light at regular intervals. Those final orchestral movements offer Dev the chance to bring the choir to the fore and they lead us back to the track's climax. Is this not the very definition of "epic metal"?

There are a few weaknesses to consider and those do come in the promised latter half of the album. "Stars" certainly provides the same sort of initial comedown as it's neighbour. Deliberate, but here it is less ambitious. The chord structures begin to feel a little anachronistic; the slumbering vocal hush yearns to be adored. But still that walking middle-eight in repose is a killer cut-away. These little moments of genius make such simple songs essential. The main vocal certainly knows when to take a backseat in the mix to the glorious warmth of the choir. What doesn't run so smoothly is the continuous full-bore hit that the title-track attempts straight after. The baritones in the choir set the mood and then Anneke takes over and the oppressive flood of the thing begins to melt away. But does it go anywhere, does it say anything or is it mere filler? It seems you can be crushed by heavily-layered mood music. Who knew?

One final thorn is left but all I'll say is have a listen to the song "Have I Told You Lately?" by Van Morrison, Rod Stewart or any other artist, before listening to "From My Heart" and try not to marry the two. It's impossible, right? Even a heart-warming message like that isn't worth an eight-minute run time though.

So yes, it's a cracking release from DTP but it's not without fault. You certainly get your money's worth though and only a fool would hesitate before recommending it. With an insanely-successful career like that behind him, you can be sure that an on-point Devin Townsend is a goddamn genius. Out-of-synch, he's merely essential listening.

Also online @ The Line Of Best Fit = http://www.thelineofbestfit.com/reviews/albums/devin-townsend-project-transcendence

Album Review: Servers – Everything is OK

2016-08-22T11:33:00.002+01:00

“Well I know what I just said. For those of you who came with us, everything is OK” intones the voice and just like that this sophomore provides the perfect link to their debut and we’re off.

Having shown us just a glimpse of their new wave leanings on their debut album, Servers have expanded this thread now to include a synthetic swagger that tip-toes between the worlds of dark pop and industrial rock. It has made for a cleaner, more vibrant sound. However, their vast grooves are now less impacting having been flattened to create simpler, more accessible structures that seem over-reliant on a singular hook. Is this a dangerous game they are playing here?

Well, the initial tracks like “Spells” and “My Friends Are Enemies” build from solid bases but do begin to crumble at the point of choral release. The slackening of rhythmic bite in the former track, from those rumbling drums loaded with tribal menace, is certainly an odd experience. The latter track is certainly spiky enough, ripped with dark fizz and a groovy electro-buzz but again the choruses feel slack. There’s definitely a need for them to punch more.

Happily, what follows brings the power. Yes, the bitter and twisted “To Hell With You” and the chant and chop of “Bodies In The Ground” set about revisiting the manic splatter of their debut with plenty of grunt and a vitriolic crush instigated by overdriven guitars. This power surge is ably complemented by some of Lee Storrar’s wildest roars. Acting like a shot in the arm it feels like we’re back on track. By regularly switching tempos, Servers take us on an emotional rollercoaster. “Unconditional” goes completely against the grain of the other tracks, picking up from a ponderous quiet verse to instigate a huge kinetic chorus. There’s a sweet orchestral intro to dissect, an addictive vocal hook and a bouncing heartbeat underscore too.

Then when all seems well, the band start meddling with formulaic pop constructions as “Our Lady Of Bad Counsel”, “I Will Make You” and “Codes” hit. The former drags us kicking and screaming back into the past with bursts of synth and a feisty but simplistic rhythm. It even drops in some driven, upbeat, punk-pop elements. Getting specific, “Codes” is just pure Zoolook-era Jean-Michel Jarre. That repeating beat sampled from a short vocalisation, so familiar, so incessant, smacks into lyrics that slowly recount the putrid stench of murder. Then, they find another gear and bring more orchestral and synth backup into the mix to offer an element of power metal.

By the time you hit the dull, blueprint candy of “I Will Make You”, you’ll sense that something made of purest slate-black evil is at play. The band have lightened the music to use as a tool to fool. Those taped interjections you’re hearing come from media broadcasts and interviews and are revelations from the the minds of deranged cult victims and their instigators. Conceptually and lyrically, it’s a pretty damn wicked and the inference is to play off the light music against the dark wordplay. Have they gone in hard enough though? The delivery does seem to fall short and those gentle suggestions feel too weak. Imagine the mayhem they could have created here. Each psychological exploration could have powered the music, exploded eardrums and bitten down harder. Would it be fair to point out this comes on the heels of Periphery’s truly heart-rending MK Ultra-dissection, Juggernaut?

Look, Everything Is OK is… OK. With its hints of nineties grunge and naughties’ alternative rock scenes, it certainly feels like a step backwards from the punch that so marked their debut. It’s shorn of so much of its sparking emotion. It’s poppier, less vicious, superbly aggressive in spots but even those points weaken the album by highlighting those bits that really aren’t. Hell, there is certainly a dark side to it and the more you persevere and the deeper you sink into it, the more visible its intentions become. “The world has gone to shit” screams the PR blurb, so why doesn’t this album feel like a fair representation of that mindset when to do so was clearly the band’s intention?

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/08/servers-everything-is-ok-undergroove-records/

Album Review: Black Crown Initiate – Selves We Cannot Forgive

2016-07-25T11:44:00.002+01:00

Pennsylvania’s Black Crown Initiate, like all good Steelmen, know how to craft good metal. Bursting from the quintet’s take on progressive death metal, you can hear inspired work from such gargantuan sources as Meshuggah, Periphery and Between The Buried And Me. They employ a variety of vocal techniques and splash them across a canvas of technical heaviosity loaded with richly-layered atmospherics.

If their 2014 debut, The Wreckage Of Stars, was anything to go by, BCI enjoy leaving scars. This sophomore delves deep into the human psyche by laying bare Man’s history of inhumanity, terror, destruction and genocide. It explores such emotions as hatred, lust, self-loathing, pain, loss, hopelessness and sorrow. The suggested end game? A period of serious introspection and self-discovery resulting ultimately in suicidal self-sacrifice. You have been warned – it cuts deep this one.

It also marks a continued exploration of their sound as they delve into their bag of progressive tricks fishing out music with multiple structures and deft segues. The vocal hooks this time tend to come from resplendent cleans rather than explosive death roars and the shaping of the songwriting anchors the BCI ship on firmer, more familiar ground. Which, of course, is not to say it won’t challenge the listener – fans of their debut, in particular should expect the unexpected.

The natural drift of the album allows for their more intense songs to play out first, so you should cover up early. With “For Red Cloud” and “Belie The Machine” punching out mammoth staccato chugs and a barking death vocal they actually echo the majestic, extra-terrestrial battering that the Texan-Maryland trio Of Legends once supplied. The lyrical wordplay agonises to the point of melancholia and keeps on heading ever downwards. Barbarous, addictive rise-and-fall choruses fire home their arrows with pinpoint accuracy. For example, “Our god is full of sorrow / Our god is one of pain”, from the intensely experimental “Sorrowpsalm”, or the brightly-coloured chorus of “We will meet at beginning’s end and start again / Just in time for us to live, we’ll die again”, from “Again”.

These boys write proper songs, not just a jarring collection of words and music, and in a genre like death metal that is a rare thing to find. Naturally, that can be attributed to their technical metal leanings and the willingness to cross multiple genres to create beauty amid the brutality. It brings them more in line with bands like Monuments and The Contortionist, yet even these comparisons don’t do them justice. Take the title-track for example. It’s a simple design with a cyclical structure onto which you can latch. Yet within lies sequencing that progresses through a gentle opening swing of piano and string arpeggio with a matching euphoric vocal clean. The explosive rip into a porcine death growl then allows the bass to bubble to the fore to meet a cushioned power rock solo. It’s organic design is truly disconcerting when you consider each part separately.

They don’t always nail it and some tracks certainly require repeated plays just to unscramble your brain and make sense of the chaos. I mean, on what planet could you find strong hits of Sylosis’ shredding meeting BTBAM’s manic seguing (see “Transmit To Disconnect”) or Skyharbor’s lush choruses folding into the brutalising death of Annotations Of An Autopsy (“Matriarch”)?

Selves We Cannot Forgive feels like BCI’s first true step into the unknown. Here, they have engaged themselves fully in the songwriting process, carving themselves an individual sound by exploring the range of their own abilities. It should see them take ever more confident, inspirational steps as they look ever deeper into their own selves.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/07/black-crown-initiate-selves-we-cannot-forgive-spv/

Album Review: Earth Ship – Hollowed

2016-07-20T16:09:00.001+01:00

Berlin’s Earth Ship are a band that crosses genres. Depending on your state of mind when you press play, you’ll hear something different each and every time.

Firing out two parts doom and one part southern metal, Earth Ship have managed to muster an album that collects, like music nerds, a vast range of their influences. Starting out with a driven, downbeat Alice In Chains vibe they steadily ramp up the pace and the power to peak at something equating to Kylesa’s whirlwind crush before bringing it back through thrash and blackened metal to settle back into a doomy groove.

Blasting off the wall of noise with a scowling bag of nails vocal, opener “Reduced To Ashes” melts an initially gutsy, visceral sound into a driven dual vocal that mimics the melancholic laments of the aforementioned Alice In Chains. At ts heart the jerking back-and-forth swinging rhythm is a simple structure by design, so it’s a surprise to find it repeating throughout the album. Following up, the title-track introduces itself as its tonal brother, attacking from a different angle with half-paced, down-tuned chugs creating an imposing force. This looser blueprint risks demoting it to mere filler but at least it warns you just how complex their constructive thought processes are.

Deeper in, the variation continues – morose, lush verses, driven with effortless power by twin vocals, melt into a roared death attack. Surrounding it they use an amalgam of High On Fire’s immense vocal grunt, Monster Magnet’s heady theatrics and Torche’s relentless cyclical riffing to shock and invigorate.

“Conjured” provides a wicked groove interspersed with harmonised vocal “aahs” and is both accessible and memorable. Then, diving into the abyss, “Monolith” offers up a suitably menacing, rumbling undercurrent with big blackened melancholic tones. Imposing its wrath upon the listener it echoes through to violating feedback. “In Fire’s Light” is even darker, heavier and throws ever more powerful hits. It also features the enigmatically repeating line “The sands of time are running low…”. Here, they sound like a beefed-up Purified In Blood.

Wading through, the succulent, thick layers envelop you. Whichever you choose to lock onto, be it the scrawling multiple-overlaid vocal, the demonic throat-scouring or the slow, persistent driven quality, you are always plugged in. And then there’s the moments when they revert to feeding in old school elements. One particular track that will give you a shit-eating grin is the thrashed-up “Castle Of Sorrow”. The fiery, metallic tang, of the thing throwing out curses in twin-speed attack with pillar-to-post riffage is a joy. Even the monotonous closer “The Edge Of Time” has value here with its long, weighty, sustained chord strikes and maddening Acid King-esque ethereal doom.

There are negatives to consider. These aren’t so much songs as they are a series of flavours. There is an over-reliance on sheer power when the variety of attack should be the star. With trigger points supplied by the guttural roared sections they do have a tendency to batter the eardrums a little too often. A solid wall of noise each time will only drive you in one direction. And the album does rely a little too much on needless party tricks. As an example, “Safeguard Of Death”‘s automaton vocal intoning instructions over and over will drive you nuts.

Earth Ship are essentially like getting all your favourite foods and putting them on a single plate. Consume each individual part carefully and you’ll love this experience. Mix them all up and it’ll taste like something you’d give to your dog.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/07/earth-ship-hollowed-napalm/

Live Review: UK TechFest @ Newark Showground, 9 July 2016

2016-07-16T11:58:00.001+01:00

Reviewers: Andrew Doherty / John Skibeat
Photos: John Skibeat

AD: This was the fifth edition of UK TechFest. I’d been to one before, Johnski to two. We both noticed the improvements since our first visit in 2013. The bands and atmosphere were good but then it was all a bit rough and ready. Newark Showground is now the venue. It’s spacious and well set out with a neat campsite, a wide range of reasonably priced food outlets, helpful staff and good and working facilities. The two stages are in large hangars, which are divided by a large area with a bewildering array of TechFest, label and band merchandise. So let’s start by saying “well done” to the organisers.

JS: It was midday when the proceedings began. Giving us a pleasantly mellow wake-up call was the Cornish progressive metal collective For The Oracle. Boasting seven members, they filled the smaller Hands On Printing stage, scattering it with a range of percussive instruments. When in full flow, we were treated to a pair of saxophonists (an alto and a tenor), a pair of drummers and three guitarists. They’re a young band with a confident, active frontman in Sam Lawson; a definite positive, which you hope might soon inspire his rather more chilled-out accomplices as their experience grows. Their music flows beautifully, rising and falling with his vocal. There were also some pretty eclectic Floyd-ian touches, some Afro beats (“Princess”) and jazzy drives that see them successfully combining the twin universes of Incubus and Tool.

AD: I know a bit about parallax boards and measurements, so I had an inkling that The Parallax Method might play music with mathematical structures. An impressive crowd of over 100 spectators gathered to witness an mesmerising display of complex instrumental shapes and patterns. Technical mastery overshadowed any warmth, of which there was very little. Both the music and the band, who were probably nervous and certainly looked uncomfortable, seemed very earnest. “I’m popping out for a smoke”, commented my friend and fellow spectator Jonathan. I silently told myself he wasn’t going to miss anything. Actually he did, but for the wrong reason. “Thank you. Enjoy the festival”, announced the band spokesman. Hang on. “We haven’t finished yet”, he added as we all proceeded to troop out. So we stayed for another five minutes of sophisticated shoegazing proggery. This set had great technical qualities but it was like the world’s longest interlude.

JS: The feisty Hull/Sheffield quintet Dividium sport a fired-up frontman who was ably backed up with a technically-proficient, bouncing crew. In fact, the scruffy-bearded Neil Bailey is a bit of a card. He seems quite happy to refer to himself as “the fat lad” and is keen to point out that, despite his jams, “the chafing is real, people.” His large strides make sure he covers the whole stage quickly and hopefully saved him from too much discomfort! Their melodic tech metal is built around solid grooves with added bluster and a variety of vocal techniques. Bailey started out colouring his with a somewhat ropy operatic lilt before he fell back into a much more confident series of deathly roars balanced by sweet harmonised cleans. Their new album got a good airing with “Eternity” and “It’s All Gone 19” the standouts. The latter blew away the cobwebs by creating a huge wall of battering sound with a monstrous series of breakdowns built in.

AD: From Sorrow to Serenity weren’t showing on my original list. Thinking of similar previous experiences with Aeolist and Day Six, unexpected bands have proved to be pleasant surprises, and so were these Glaswegians. Immediately cutting in to hardcore energy, the philosopher come politician come vocalist screamed or cleared this throat violently, as you prefer. But this wasn’t raw violence. The riffs were magnetic, the structures were well thought out and the timing was excellent. “Thanks for getting up early: this is the wake up call”, announced the vocalist. It was about 1.40pm. The tall, wiry bassist stood on the monitor and looked menacingly into the crowd. The band moved and twirled, the crowd banged their heads and the dangerous djenty rhythms with technical twists and atmospheres just added to the violent expressions of anger. The intensity level was 150%. So while the social and political undercurrent of the songs’ themes may have been rancid and cutting, as a performance this was a breath of fresh air.

JS: Shifting across to the Carillion Guitars main stage, U.S. progressive modern doom quintet Dark Orbit lost a member somewhere and appeared to have shifted their sound to one spouting a wall of death with scouring, astringent roars and heaving kicks of hardcore. With their Voyager backing track kicking in briefly to set them up, they soon settled into proceedings and provided us with plenty of energetic power-housing built on explosive grooves that build to euphoric crescendos. Chad Kapper, their long-haired, heavily built vocalist dominated the stage by constantly pacing between his drummer at the back of the stage and the crowd, planting a right foot on, first, the riser then the monitor. His main partner-in-crime (a pretty decent Phil Lynott lookalike), John Schiber, was a blur of action, constantly growling through bared teeth and fighting his guitar to set up a constant undercurrent of groove. There were plenty of “invisible oranges” on show and pumping fists thrust into the sky but, shorn of the futuristic affectations that tint their fine EP, on stage they veered too much towards just a single-colour slab of sonic destruction.

AD: Explosive death metal erupted as the five members of Belial went about their business. The band identity seemed to be about facial hair, neck tattoos, aggression and what? The vocalist pulled a nasty face, kept telling us “we’ll move this place” as if trying to convince himself of this, and growled some more as the grungy wall of noise continued. “It’s a heavy one”, announced the vocalist unnecessarily. Same riff, different song. “Parasite” had a bit more punch, irregularity and interest but all in all this was a storm, which blew over without damage. Some in the crowd were more than enthusiastic than I was, but for me Belial just dropped back into the pack of the other fourteen bands with the same name.

AD: During one of the few breaks between sets, I met Jake from The Schoenberg Automaton. I asked him what to expect. “Something abstract” was his reply. Thanks to a purposeful build-up, these Aussies subtly took us into a higher place with powerful and heavy groove lines, supported by ferocious vocals from the aforementioned Jake, striking with his flowing ginger beard, lanky frame and multi-coloured beachwear. Game on. I and my fellow spectators tuned into a world of irregular chaos, stepping up, stepping down and constantly changing but hugely interesting and enjoyable. There was death metal somewhere in amongst all this irregular timing, melodic lines and metalcore anger.

Visually, the band showed great personality and presence. Jake disappeared as he lay on his back on stage, continuing to growl before getting up athletically and continuing his theatrical display. This was organised chaos at its best. Outstanding guitar solos appeared in the middle of all the noise. Each progression was gripping and exhilarating. Jake swung round like a madman in time to these maniacal and ever transforming instrumentals. I didn’t know where to look to find the action. It was everywhere. Jake stormed the crowd. I detected a faint melody in the thunder. The set ended with “Where Are We, In a Cube”. There was an infusion of jazz and moments of doom while Jake swayed robotically. The music was weighty, mobile and dark, but also thanks to the good grace and humour of the band, it was all great fun too. The animated crowd had been gradually lifted to a state of fever pitch. Paradoxically the irregular metal didn’t seem disjointed but had a good flow. This is what live performance is all about: Interesting, carefully crafted and powerful music, presented in an audience-friendly way.

AD: There was no time to take breath. After The Schoenberg Automation I made my way over to the other stage, where triggering drums, a massive groove line and heavy, heavy metal signalled the arrival of Abhorrent Decimation. But this wasn’t just about heaviness. There was melody, and those groove lines were rampant and transfixing. “Love is the answer. Now is the time for love”, proclaimed the beefy vocalist. What? It became apparent that this man had a magnificent sense of humour. “Technical issues … what a place for this to happen”, he commented as men fiddled behind him and adjustments were made. Soon we were back to growly and brutal melodic assaults. Abhorrent Decimation just didn’t mess about. This was like Deicide with melodies to die for, sheer authority and firepower. A little Eastern sample was slipped in, but this was about the riffs, the groove and the unending motion. There was a purity about this assault. The guys from Loathe looked on enjoyed the set with the rest of us. “Have fun. We are”, exhorted the beefy man, who invited a left side – right side sing-a-long as “Echoes of the Vortex” got under way. It didn’t go to plan. “This side has given up. Fuck ‘em”, he concluded. Finishing with “Terminal Reality” off the “Miasmic Mutation” album, the band’s feisty but crowd-friendly attitude, the djenty grooves and the complete co-ordination, which had won everyone over, were there again. Superb music, great crowd interaction and sheer entertainment: you can’t ask for more.

AD: I walked across into a packed room. People were chanting “Potato”. I saw Serbia’s Destiny Potato at this event three years ago. Here were the first clean vocals I’d heard so far. They weren’t great. The lady singer, who herself seemed surprised at the level of support for the band, couldn’t hold a note. She was no Anneke van Giersbergen or any of the singers from Tristania. The songs were commercial, a bit gothic, but ultimately I found them dreary. Destiny Potato gave off the presence of a big band with all the gestures, but these slushy, soulless songs lacked personality and came across as a form of mashed up melodic rock-metal. So you’ll gather it wasn’t speaking to me but as I looked round heads were swaying and many of the sizeable crowd were appreciating the show more than I was. “Addict” had a bit of Eastern mysticism with a djent underscore. I liked the heavier tones and the lady’s growls were good. Overall I didn’t enjoy this set as much as I had others. Destiny Potato seemed to be unwittingly cultivating a rock star image, but in spite of that managed to convey likeable personalities. The crux of this for me though was that the songs weren’t strong enough.

JS: Now here’s a Parisian modern death quintet who sound like The Faceless mixed with Gojira. Oh yes, there’s storm a-brewing. Pitching a series of arpeggios up against an avalanche of breakdowns, Atlantis Chronicles hit heavy and they hit hard. “The sea is everything… the cycle will soon be completed” intoned the Biblically-deep voice from the gloom. It’s the eerily-atmospheric spoken intro to their new album and, as there, they followed through with the crushing “Otis Barton”. Loaded with deathly roars and vast intakes of breath that build into great whooping Randy Blythe-esque screams, the whirling dervish that is Antoine Bibent set out his stall early, bouncing from pillar to post, and was soon slicked in sweat. The aquatic backstory continued throughout their set allowing us to follow their journey and very soon the audience was drowning in a monstrous conveyor belt of sound. They were clearly loving their art, sporting shit-eating grins and throwing many “thank you guys” to the baying crowd. Their genial, amenable attitude of course comes paired with their ability to tear the neck from your shoulders so be warned.

AD: Earlier, the spokesman for From Sorrow to Serenity had declared their allegiance to Fit For An Autopsy, with whom they had been touring. The intensity level now was stepped up. Fit For An Autopsy came on stage and kicked some ass, as no doubt they would refer to it. But it was ass-kicking with twists, turns and technical patterns. The crowd created a big circle. The moshing began with the second song “The Jackal”. This was a typically big performance by a US band: much posturing, much aggression, a constant wall of sound, demonstrative gestures from the band members, time to let the spectators take it in and react. And react they did. The moshpit erupted in wild fury during “Saltwound”. A case of tough guys playing for tough guys? But this New Jersey hardcore was laced with subtly deep and dark melodies. For some reason mention of the USA by the vocalist didn’t go down too well. This was neatly sidelined. Thunderous and edgy metalcore energy was matched by slick presentation. An interruption to deal with sound problems threatened to derail the momentum. The guitarist was still having problems in “Still We Destroy” but the show must go on, and so it did in its loud and vociferous way. The moshers followed the roaring vocalist’s instructions. A frenzy was whipped up. There was something tribal about the progression – perfect for the moshers. The place went wild to reflect the musical violence on the stage, and carnage on the floor. It’s important not to forget the musicianship. To a shuddering backdrop, it was sharp and tight, and of course heavy. The set ended with the anthemic “Absolute Hope, Absolute Hell”. With its technical twisting to entice us, and a hint of Killswitch Engage’s “Daylight Dies” about it, spice was added to the usual potent mix of brutality and metalcore. It was a fitting end to a dazzling display, even with a couple of technical interruptions, of controlled and uncontrolled frenzy.

JS: Oddly enough Sithu Aye is pronounced C2-A which makes the main man sound like something out of a Star Wars film. With the Glaswegian’s touring trio also on show we are privy to the full instrumental tech experience. They may look like lost extras from The IT Crowd but they certainly know their onions. Plenty of rise and fall, arm-waving instrumentals, sweeping melodies and a strong Animals As Leaders meets Pelican vibe. However, with the focus solely on the music’s sole architect, the pleasure of watching him (and indeed the rest of the band) noodle away, head down, performing string gymnastics, wore off rather quickly. Even with the rhythmic slides hitting neck-breaking grooves and with Sithu’s own baby brother’s bass thumping away it all too quickly began to feel like watching a YouTube masterclass. If I wanted that I’d have headed over to the mysterious Hangar 3 – they’ve been giving guitar demos out there all weekend to a small crowd of cross-legged die-hards. Perhaps I should sit down? No better not – there are a few bobbing heads and thoughtful scratching of chins so perhaps the same die-hards were in! Even when the pace lifted it soon settled back into swing – honest to God, there was some bloke next to me at the barrier checking his own Facebook feed.

AD: Fallujah was the band I’d come to see. Judging by the t-shirts, I wasn’t alone. After the release of the band’s impeccable “Dreamless” album earlier this year, there was nowhere else I wanted to be today. The musical machine gun started. Brutality, subtlety, expansive guitar sounds, pumping drums and flashing lights were just some of the ingredients. The bass rumbled through, up and over us. A circle was formed and the moshing began. Technicality was overlaid with the brutally explosive core and the intransigent sound wall. This set’s output was heavier than I remembered “Dreamless” to be. It was good. “Abandon”, one of my favourite tracks on the “Dreamless” album and for me the highlight of the live set today, was heavy to the point of being apocalyptic, but then in the same piece came the subtle shimmerings of the guitar from the heavy progressive end of the spectrum. Ethereal guitar work, djent rumblings and bass and drum thunder combined. The mosh pit raged.

The spectators around me looked stunned. “If you like technical and melodic metal, you’re in the right place”, pronounced the vocalist when introducing “Scar Queen”. Epic structures fell out of this sophisticated technical metal. Fallujah continued to tear us apart with the technically infused “The Dead Sea”. We heard an ambient passage. “Are you ready to wake up?” asked the vocalist. In fact I concluded it wasn’t about waking up but grasping the complexity here. So much was going on with the mesmerising guitar passages, epic sections, deathcore vocals, massive explosions and the enormity of sound that the thoughtful elements of the crowd relied upon motivation from the vocalist. I lost count of the number of times that he barked out instructions: “make some noise”, “I need you to headbang/jump/whatever”. The prompting was necessary. It was as if the crowd needed rehearsals for this multi-layered feast. We jumped to order to “The Void Alone” before enjoying a more chilled-out section, then finally we were treated to the thunderous depths and headbanging properties of “Sapphire”. I sensed universal appreciation around me of the vastness and range, but the reaction of the audience confirmed to me it was also difficult to grasp. It was a great show from Fallujah, with great moments of majesty, but it was a lot to take in and I concluded that we needed prior preparation for such sheer enormity.

JS: Progressive chaos is probably the best way of describing Canadian quintet Protest the Hero. I could list their names but it seems more appropriate to list them as “black beard”, “bare feet”, “beach sandals”, “giant ginger beard” and “backwards cap”. They launched into a quick one-two, “Bloodmeat” and “Sequoia Throne”, raining down maniacal string rushes onto the bouncing fans before silence fell. Frontman Rody Walker stepped up to the mic and announced that as these two were their best songs, “it’s all downhill from here”. Ah, that dry Canadian sense of humour. And with that the pace of the gig was set. Short bursts of violent, tight, abortive arrhythmia littered with Walker’s heartfelt, effusively melodic cleans and then a long pause to deliver another barbarously witty comment or pre-organised sideshow. With a marriage proposal, some law-breaking, a tour story and a couple of stage dives from Sithu Aye all included, the gig began to feel like a bit of a cabaret act. Now whether you lap that up or yearn for more of the music is a personal choice but myself and a large proportion of the pit were grinning like Cheshire cats.

“C’est La Vie”, “Hair Trigger” and “Limb From Limb” went down a storm with those famous scrambling guitars pulling polyrhythms and staccato breaks as if from the ether. Then, with the band downing tools, Walker broaches politics for his next dig – “How do you guys feel about Brexit?” A mixture of boos and cheers, naturally, goad him into “You lot are fucked up!” His constant ribbing of the crowd and the perfect marriage of wry smile and an accepting British public meant the skits went down a storm. And if all else fails he had self-deprecation to fall back on. As an example, we are treated to some freestyle rapping on “…this stupid fucking progressive metal rap song” which it turns out Rody loathes. “I fucking hate it – I’ll try not to pass out”. With the party in full swing it’s easy to see why this lot were originally named Happy Go Lucky! As the gig swung round to its inevitable encore, the high-pitched crowd whoops picked up and all hell broke loose as they rewarded us with “Mist” from 2013’s stonking “Volition” album. The full stop was provided by the samba dance track which kicked in from the sound system as the lights go up and an exhausted crowd filter outside. Time to reflect on another superb day witnessing the brightest and best at tech metal’s premier UK festival.

Full review here: http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/07/uk-techfest-newark-showground-9716/
UK TechFest Website here: http://uktechfest.com

Album Review: Sink - Ark Of Contempt And Anger

2016-07-05T13:01:00.001+01:00

Marked up as psychic AOR, Sink’s latest offering is far more subversive than that initial description suggests. It is, after all, an exploration into the reasons behind man’s very existence, deconstructing his own self-awareness – pure waffle or a valuable assessment? Naturally, any work that credits the occultist Genesis P-Orridge and mystic Therese Neumann is going to challenge our own conceptions of the self.

As an example of the depths we are plunging here, the PR blurb that accompanies this offers us the enigmatic line – “The history of music is merely fuel to be burned”. It’s a bastardization of an Ayn Rand quote but this and other half-spoken observations throughout the album are our stark warning that we are expected to look beyond the obvious for this one.

Think on that as you swim into the opener, “Hunger” and that glowing, buzzing, chiming warp which lurks behind a wall of monotonous, lyrical chaos.The switch-up that follows tickles the band’s folk souls, powering down to bring us echoing pipes and a blackened, melancholic lament. Oddly, “Dream Map” forms the link between tracks one and two, ingesting parts of each and throwing in a crackling fire, ironworked effects and a slow 80’s synth.

Never ones to rest in one place, the synthetic pulse of “Consolation” offers up another change of tone, drawing inspiration from such diverse sources as Jean-Michel Jarre and 65daysofstatic. With no real direction it feels odd and misplaced – a snatch of something unbidden and incomplete. Much of what you’ll experience here though is merely that – more quick grabs at the ether than true songs.

As an example of this “Crystal Ship” is seemingly just a series of sounds thrown together. Part-industrial, part-tribal, a repeating single-note it conjures a dark, occluded picture driven by anger to the point where disintegration is the only exit strategy. Quite mental, oddly disturbing and yet curiously mesmeric. Likewise, the arena echo of “Terminal”, is at its heart just a sequence of recorded sounds. Passing traffic that morphs into the pounding of train wheels on a track. Then, there’s “World Asthma” – a minute of slow piano split asunder by static interference – it achieves what exactly? I’m losing my patience here.

Happily, “So We’ll Go No More A-Roving” does carry a purpose. It’s a slow, doomy, boy-girl lament; a Vangelis-esque tale of love dripping with real sentiment.

Yes, at it’s core Ark Of Contempt… is just a series of fiercly deconstructed songs, hammered, kneaded, and teased out into simplistic musical threads. It’s a melancholic album with a bold, dynamic range and those with inquiring, open minds will find it both invigorating and thought-provoking. However it does require a largesse of patience to escape the rigid, spartan structures and some will find it lacking in colour. On the plus side, it’s unafraid of ditching the vocal lines where necessary and, consequently leaves room for the acoustic-only tracks to release the grey matter from too much torturous instruction.

Bandcamp = https://sinkprocess.bandcamp.com/album/ark-of-contempt-and-anger

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/06/sink-ark-of-contempt-and-anger-svart/

Album Review: Gorguts – Pleiades’ Dust

2016-06-08T09:01:00.000+01:00

How do you follow an album like Colored Sands? That perfect comeback album, following 12 years away from the studio, was their career pinnacle so where do they go from here? Well, here’s proof that the answer is to cling to their own coat-tails and hang on for dear life.

Pleiades’ Dust is lyrically and conceptually based on the destroyed mediaeval library of Baghdad and describes the terrible loss of scientific discovery in many fields of learning that was housed within. It extends to 33 minutes of atmospheric meanderings crushed into the spaces between the dark gnarled roots of technical death metal. Complex and convincing, to this metalhead it feels almost physical in presence. Its dips and crescendos are palpable. They hang in the air like gelatinous touchpoints, oozing with life.

Initial dramatic reverb bounces around echoing chambers before trickling its way onto the canvas. When it hits, the wall of drum and bass thunder simply smashes a hole right through it. Tugged along, as if on a chain, comes the brutalising inhuman roar of Luc Lemay and before you’ve noticed this single-track behemoth has begun the inexorable consumption of your soul.

Gorguts have been careful here to keep the central thread of the music locked into position which allows for the extraneous edges to expand and collapse, to career wildly from pillar to post, to dissolve into thin air and be plucked back out from nowhere. Fiendish in design, this conjuror’s magic trick is coaxed gently into life by the most talented heavy collective. To keep things so tight and focussed and yet elegantly organic takes skill beyond comprehension.

And yet, there are moments when the thrill of the chase wanes and the immensity of the power the players wield becomes overbearing on the listener. At times, its the overzealous jazzy elements that lurk beneath, at others its the unyielding crush as the band applies the full pressure of double-kick and electric violence to the piece.

Despite this, there are moments where either the hairs on the back of your neck or your hackles will raise. At the half way point, the listener is immersed inside the subsonic creaking bones and cavernous belly of the beast and it is an absolute thrill. At 24 minutes, the progressive hammering finger runs and slow chugs ready your senses for nothing less than impending war.

Pleiades’ Dust is a jaw-dropping experience. It’s probably the most absorbing piece of music I’ve heard since The Ocean sunk us into the expanding depths of their Pelagial. Sure its not faultless, but like the aforementioned band, Gorguts are surfing high upon the wave of their career highlight and riding it as kings.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/06/gorguts-pleiades-dust-season-of-mist/

Album Review: Nadja – Sv

2016-06-08T08:56:00.000+01:00

Drone, at its most monotone, can drive some wild. It is a beast that dwells beyond the reach of most, existing in a parallel universe to the dark fury of the majority of heavy metal acts; light years from the sugary sweet licks of rock n’ roll. Dip a toe in and you’ll fail to judge the temperature or miss the drag from the tugging swell of what lies beneath. It is music for the slow-movers, the thinkers, the heavy-lidded.

Nadja are masters of this particular genre and this 41-minute single-track album is a true work of art. Aidan Baker & Leah Buckareff have combined the elemental with the industrial and set it to the bruising grind of dark electronica.

An eerie opening constructs itself a sub-aquatic world with an electrical buzz and an mechanical hum that builds to a visceral crescendo. By five minutes the bass rumble and harmonic nuts and bolts have begun to lock into place. At seven and a half minutes the percussive elements have steadily begun to fizz and click into life. At nine minutes the steady morphosis is ebbing and flowing. The whole has become an unstoppable locomotive riding the rails, chuntering and chittering with gritty signs of life. Deeper in the sounds have begun to fully combine – here, the electronic beat drives ever onwards and the sub-level bottom-end rattles the ribs. As the mind empties and the focus becomes absolute, “Sievert” lords it as dance music for the undead.

Thirty-three minutes down and the switch-up occurs, changing its angle of impact to open up the rhythm and create space. Here, it is like riding the back of a vast, lumbering beast. The drums come into focus and the music’s black grip tightens. Dread takes over and the slow degradation of the world Nadja have created shows its first cracks. The crust snaps, time patterns and effects warp and reality begins to leak back in. That space you’ve been staring at on the wall for the last half-hour is no longer your focal point as Baker strikes the single piano key that breaks the spell.

Summing up, Sv is experimental drone that slowly warms to its task before worming its way inside and reconfiguring your heartbeat, your pulse, your brainwaves. Helpless, you’ll dance to its multi-layered echoing vibe over and over.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/05/nadja-sv-essence-music/

Album Review: Joy – Ride Along!

2016-06-06T15:52:00.003+01:00

What’s that shouty man want and where is that thundering rhythm coming from? Looks like San Diego’s psych rockers Joy have been at it again. Here they offer up a rock ’em, sock ’em follow up to 2014’s Under The Spell Of Joy which just so happened to pick up a gong and a thoroughly glowing review from Guitar World. For Ride Along! the band have grabbed help where they can and a quick scan shows us we have guest spots from Earthless drummer Mario Rubalcaba, Radio Moscow guitarist Parker Griggs and guitarist Brenden Dellar, of Tee Pee labelmates Sacri Monti.

This long-player rapidly establishes itself as a feisty little number by tearing off at a fair old lick. It’s hectic, bass-heavy, not averse to a spot of impressive guitar noodling, and you’ll also find a vocal set well back in the mix. In fact, it’s so far back there, it’s almost a distraction and takes some getting used to. Reminiscent of the echoing, deliberately thin delivery that rock bands like Jackson Firebird and Foxy Shazam often employ for effect, this is constant and actually borders on the punishing rants so favoured by The Sex Pistols. Stripped back, it’s just a harsh, punked-up statement but don’t expect an easy ride all the same.

Happily the fat fuzzing blues that wander behind Zachary Oakley’s wailing wall are way cool. So whilst tracks like the discordant “Help Me” and “Red, White and Blues” grab you like some snotty mohican-sporting yobbo, there are the rumbling thrills of ZZ Top’s “Certified Blues” and the captivating, string-bending rock monster “Gypsy Mother’s Son” to balance it all out. If those beauties still fail to tickle your tastebuds then the psychedelic breakfast of “Peyote Blues” will. Elsewhere the groove-laden strut of the title-track and the twin-fingered salute of “Evil Woman” provide a complete sense of just how versatile this band can actually be when they want to play.

It’s pretty wild fare but, hey, everyone needs a good solid boot up the arse every now and then, and this twisted son could just be the throwback rock n’roll powerhouse we’ve all secretly been craving.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/04/joy-ride-along-tee-pee/

Album Review: Holy Grove - Holy Grove

2016-06-06T13:02:00.002+01:00

Formed in 2012, this release marks the eponymous debut album from the doom-friendly quartet from Portland, Oregon. Sounding like a mind-meld between the cauldron-staring Black Pyramid, the dynamic Blues Pills, and the fantasy riff-chucking of The Sword, Holy Grove’s self-titled debut focusses on pitching buzzing stoner into 70s doom riffs that glisten with Lovecraftian intent.

Opener “Death of Magic” swings a sackful of big hearty bass, ladles on the groove and rocks you from pillar to post. Throughout fuzz-driven guitar riffs pitch and yaw all around whilst Vidal’s softly echoing vocal floats above it all. Her determinedly heartfelt cries bear a striking similarity to the storming output from Acid King’s Lori S.

Further in, “Nix” pulls out some feisty hooks and chucks in more psychedelic noodling before dropping into a half-time cosmic crawl to end. The heartstone of the piece though is the one-two segued caress of the title-track and the addictive bluesy lines of “Huntress”. They bear emotion that grips and won’t let go – “Kneel down at the altar”, indeed.

The Sabbathian-influenced “Caravan” wraps itself around the classic riff of the aforementioned’s “Evil Woman” before the 9-minuter, “Hanged Man”, with its dark chanting and punishing, warped overdrive tips a hat to Saint Vitus and seals the deal.

They’ve clearly had a ball making this album; you can hear the glee in their riff worship. Their continued deference to the metal gods of times past works for them as it stands up on its own – a stonking creation. Yep, there’s nothing truly innovational here but it’s still a thoroughly joyful experience and they are deservedly going down a storm in the live arena.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/04/holy-grove-st-heavy-psych-sounds/

Album Review: Karma To Burn – Mountain Czar

2016-06-06T12:58:00.000+01:00

Since time immemorial man has been hitting big things with smaller things to make noise for pleasure. For twenty of those years Karma To Burn have been doing the same thing. Today, they are still rattling out their special brand of euphoric instrumentals preset with thick grooves and deliberately obtuse track-titles. They may have a new bassist but the rule of thumb for this American trio still seems to be if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

Averse to the idea of being labelled as either stoners or desert-dwellers, despite navigating the good ship Karma along similar currents, they do seem to have settled upon a descriptor and so shall hereforth be labelled in my collection as Mountain Rock.

Diving straight into this EP, it seems the badge certainly fits. Vast grooves roll off the conveyor belt like avalanches. Opener “Sixty-Two” digs out a thunderous underscore of heaving drums and bucking guitars. It riffs off that with little bending chord structures and diving arpeggios. Following up, “Sixty-One” sports a similar rolling rhythm but with a feistier edge and with a battle metal twist. It’s like something The Sword might dig out, only with the heaviosity ramped up to 11.

Elsewhere, the star of the show “Sixty” simply grips it and rips it. An addictive opening riff which is pre-loaded with a subtle minor that instantly shifts up the neck and will prove an irresistible force – there simply won’t be a single static soul on their forthcoming European tour when they dig this one out. That’s an absolute guarantee. As a counterpoint, “Sixty-Three” has a great opening spoken rip from “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly” but from there it’s all pretty docile as they rotate around a gently-paced swinging surf rock pattern.

Sadly, they also pick this one to rip up their rulebook by choosing to butcher a classic in a misguided attempt at blowing minds. “Uccidendo Un Segno” is the culprit (a cover of Tom Petty’s “Running Down A Dream”) introducing Stefanie Savy, an Italian vocalist singing in her native language. A solo by Sons Of Morpheus guitarist Manuel Bissing completes the surprise. It sticks out like a sore thumb, blasting away mindlessly and breaking the classy buzz that the first three tracks built up in a heartbeat. Petty’s is a work of genius and I hate having to refer to that song in anything other than glowing terms – but what the hell were they thinking of? It’s a germ of an idea that needed to be left in the jam room or worked upon to create more of the original’s simple nous and foot on/foot off cadence.

Still, you can’t win ’em all and with whited-out retro rock so heavily back in favour, they may not be hitting the bullseye every time but they are certainly bang on point with this.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/03/karma-to-burn-mountain-czar-rodeostar/

Album Review: VŌDŪN – Possession

2016-03-17T15:40:00.002+00:00

London turbo-doom trio, VŌDŪN, are a live act like no other. Dabbling in all things voodoo they paint their music and themselves accordingly and allow the crowd’s focus to fall naturally upon their vocal icon – one Chantal Brown (a.k.a. Oya), once member of Chrome Hoof. She is the veritable stick of dynamite with a crystalline, pulsing vocal that borders on the operatic. Crush that into a small room and throw in Ogoun and Marassa (her co-conspirators) and their gutsy, thundering backline and you’ve got an overwhelming burst of colour-drenched music.

One fleeting experience with them at the London Underworld, watching them steal the show from opening slot, was enough to burn their name onto my cortex; so it was a happy day when their debut album landed in my inbox. Could they reproduce anything like the same impact shorn of their visual show?

From the off, we quickly learn that their moniker refers to the god of the West African Yoruba people and their religion – the inspiration behind the distorted voodoo tropes we’ve all assimilated from the movies. Through a series of track-linking spoken passages, we also learn that the band can come across as a little preachy.

Skipping over that then, the music itself is indelibly marked with many of Skindred’s tribal touchpoints and rumbles along with a passionate, rhythmic flow. Oya’s enormous vocal immediately takes centre-stage which is only right considering the quality. I can see how the dominance of it could be a marmite issue and the shock value has diminshed somewhat from being within touching distance of it which is a shame. Any way you take it though, she sells every note and gives her all in an impassioned display of both control and range.

There are plenty of standout tracks: “Bloodstones” simmers with joyously soft blue notes that whip up into gutsy driven climaxes; her own “Oya” allows our resplendent vocalist to fully stretch out her peacock’s feathers; “Legbas Feast” brings in folky elements and enigmatic sounds of the jungle to create campfire music to dance to; and “Mawu” delivers an unctuously thick, fuzzed undercurrent that stands in direct contrast to Oya’s vocal clarity.

Having fully road-tested it, there is an unerring similarity between the tracks and the album loses its sense of purpose as it reaches its conclusion. One particular thorn is “Divinity” that quickly abandons its drive for a dissolute structure that skips between structural sections without truly defining any of them.

VŌDŪN’s number one selling point is that they bring something fresh-sounding to a stagnant scene. They seem boundless by design and big on extracting the core triumvirate of soul, psych and blues. With a compelling live show already nailed on, if they stick to those three emotion-sparking keystones they will remain a beguiling act to follow.

Also online @ Ave Noctum = http://www.avenoctum.com/2016/03/vodun-possession-riff-rock-records/