Crumbling Ghost - S/T

The British do seem to have a reputation for eccentricity, or maybe that should be eclecticism and now we have a band worthy of the reputation…Crumbling Ghost. Hoist up your britches and prepare to dance round their blackened maypole of doom!!!

Claiming influence as much from Martin Carthy and Pentangle as from Sleep and Electric Wizard it would be all too easy to read this and dismiss them as a folk tinged doom outfit. Nothing could be further from the truth as Crumbling Ghosts music also owes as much to old school prog rock, indie shoegaze and lush post rock as it does to fiddles and riffs!!! This London based 4 piece have created an album that is rich in dynamics and innovation and may stand as one of the best of the year.

Opening track “The Collector” manages to blend supersized guitar riffs with jaunty Tull flavoured electric folk, flip flopping between the two seamlessly but is probably the track that maintains the band’s heavier side consistently throughout. It is on the next track, an arrangement by the band of “Omie Wise” that the band don their Arran sweaters and stick their fingers in their ears to get their folk on. Building from it’s understated opening that could have come straight from some early Fairport Convention albums, the track gradually grows as layers of instrumentation find their way into the mix…guitars pile on guitars and riffs pile on riff yet the folk core of the song remains intact through to the conclusion.

“Aggro Pronto” is the first of many instrumentals on the album and once again allows the band to release their inner Tull, pairing it with a progressive post rock vibe that wouldn’t be out of place among some of Pelican’s less heavy moments. Spacey and airy it may not be as immediately captivating as the previous two tracks but it does display that there is so much more to the Ghost’s bow than big riffs and a couple of Bert Jansch albums. Another instrumental, “The Stumbling Host”, kicks off in very similar style with a light and melodic guitar figure before things take a much darker hue when the distortion kicks in and the tempo drops. Expansive yet dense it is possible to see some of the band’s professed love of The Melvins shining through here as they explore some oppressive yet melodic grind before throwing in some psychedelic Sleep-esque stoner rocking goodness for good measure. The instrumental format does give the band full reign to display their undeniable musical ability at this point.

“Daytrip to Bungay” sees the band donning their doublets and hose and indulging in some whimsical psychedelic medieval folk…like wondering acid fried troubadours stumbling upon Robin Hood’s Sherwood Forest hideout with a bag of weed and some sort of primeval electric generator. I have no idea where Bungay is but sounds like a fun place!!! The next track, “Blasted Heath” begins in familiar territory as those cheeky guitars pull another twinkling folk riff out of their bag of ferrets. However, just as you may feel inclined to dance a merry jig, Crumbling Ghost pull the rug from under you and bastardise the melody over a mammoth doom riff, perhaps displaying their self confessed Electric Wizard side. It never reaches the monumental depths of despair as the Wizard but it is a rare moment of darkness in an album so far given over to putting smiles on the faces. Fear not though as the band soon find their stash and kick things up a gear in a spaced out, Hawkwind sized rush to the finish. What this track does display is Crumbling Ghost’s ability to transition seamlessly between styles without ever coming across as forced or contrived.

After so many instrumental tracks it is nice to hear a human voice once more on “Nobody Here”. Compared to the previous tracks this is a much more understated affair that largely eschews the folk influence in favour of downbeat, mournful balladry. Although a nice change of pace and mood on the album it is, for me, one of the weaker moments amongst a stellar set of tunes. “Sheriff’s Ride” goes some way to redress the balance, a brief medieval jig that evokes the images of Maypole dances, buxom serving wenches with trays of mead and ale and pinched buttocks a plenty!!!

Next up is a reworking of “Martin Carthy’s “Man of Burnham Town”, which in itself is built on an earlier traditional folk outing. Omitting the original’s dodgy tales of wife beating the lyrics have been reworked to preserve the innocent and in their place Crumbling Ghost have thrown in their amps and overdrive pedals as the song builds in layers from typical folk to a psyched out, riffed up climax. So it falls to the 10 minute plus epic “Battle of Barnet” to round off an album of diversity and invention by throwing a little of everything into the pot…folky airs give way to mighty riffs which it turn give way to mellow jazz and back again to monolithic doom and beyond without ever losing focus or sounding contrived.

And then the dust settles and it’s all over. Over the space of 50 minutes Crumbling Ghost have taken you from spring meadows alive with dancing fairies to the darkest Orc dungeons. They have quenched your thirst with flagons of ale and blown your mind with the finest hallucinogenics available to man then flayed the skin from your backs with a cat o’ nine tails. This is as rich an album as has been heard in the last forty years from a UK band, a quirky and quixotic ride through a broad and varied musical past. It would appear that prog is alive and well and doesn’t have to involve a million time changes and a thousand notes per second, it can beat with an emotional heart and throw melody in the path of musical wankery to trip it up. By rights this should be a big seller, and that my friends, is entirely down to you…I trust you will all do the right thing?


--Ollie

Buy here: Crumbling Ghost
Buy here mp3: Crumbling Ghost

http://witheredhandrecords.blogspot.com/

www.myspace.com/crumblingghost

http://www.crumblingghost.blogspot.com/

Marduk - Iron Dawn

 

Begin the ritual: get some time to yourself, put on a good stereo or good headphones, and put the volume up slightly louder than you would normally.

Then wait--

It starts, and continues, with a bass-heavy air raid siren-- when the blast beats start, a London blitzkrieg later, you (seriously) might mistake them for machine gun fire.

So much bass on this; very cool and a nice improvement to the (already good) sounds of previous LP Wormwood.

Mortuus' vocals, unlike Watain's (rageful, exultant) or Nefarium's (just rageful), sound like he's rasping out his unfiltered, genuine hatred-- because he's being strangled to death.

He's dying, and he's got no reason to lie to you.

And Mortuus HATES you.

I love the plain cover, barely an image, but a powerful nearly-monotone one, with an Old English font title and the band's name as legible as can be-- old confidence for a black metal band. And for some reason, adding the "by" in by Marduk makes for seemingly subtle modesty, which makes them seem supremely confident, and is the crowning moment of awesome for the cover.

Track one, "Warschau II-- Headhunter Halfmoon," with it's bombastic five-tone riff, Track two, "Wacht Am Rhein Drumbeats of Death," culminates in what may be wolf howls, and--

Three, "Prochorovka - Blood and Sunflowers," is the "ballad"-- Marduk playing sludge/doom-- and it is fucking awesome. A combination of Marduk, Earth and Winter. I've read about this track being considered "filler," and while it is different from most other Marduk stuff, if it was in fact intended as filler, they should do that more often. I really dug this song.

Iron Dawn is three songs, and it's the perfect length: enough to blow you away, not enough to desensitize you.

Speaking of which, fun Iron Dawn story:

I had been listening to an LP and reading. For some reason on my stereo the LPs have to be turned up more loudly than do CDs, so the volume was way up. A storm front was passing through, and it knocked out the power for about a nanosecond-- just enough to turn the stereo off and back on.

Now, if the stereo does in fact cut off, for whatever reason, it autoplays whatever CD is in it. At whatever volume it was on.

The record had finished a while ago, and I didn't even notice that the stereo had reset...

...until, at jet engine fucking volume, "Warschau II-- Headhunter Halfmoon" started playing (it intros, remember, with air raid sirens) and scared the HOLY LIVING JESUS SHIT out of me.

Ear-splitting air-raid sirens, just after a power outage, during a storm...?

I'm pretty proud I didn't piss myself.

The point IS-- Iron Dawn, three songs or not, is a mighty record.

Especially in the wrong hands.



--Horn

Buy here: Iron Dawn


http://www.facebook.com/pages/Marduk/5618759703

A Burst of EP's - Featuring After Oblivion and the Great Sabatini

After Oblivion - Vultures

This three song promo found it’s way onto my hard drive and into my heart just the other day.

That band is the technical death metal band After Oblivion.  These dudes are based out of Tuzla, Bosnia & Herzegovina…try and say that three times fast. I am a fan of all things metal…especially good death metal. That being said, I am very skeptical of new death bands. It seems as though nothing has hit my tastes buds and made me want more. After Oblivion is a different story.

Their new Ep, Vultures is everything an up and comer in the death scene needs to be. Fast and thrashy yet not relying heavily on meaningless guitar solos. Their singer Adnan has an epic approach to his vocal stylings, which are very reminiscent of Death singer, Chuck Schuldiner. Almost as if he has risen from the dead. Could Adnan be the long lost love child of Chuck Schuldiner…possibly conceived during a late 90’s tour of Bosnia??  Maybe. The band itself reminds me of a 90’s tech death band. Again, you can hear their influences from the band, Death. 

The lead off track to Vultures is a song called “Septic Mind“. A very cool song that starts off with a very epic thrashy intro. Which leads into Adnan’s screeching vocals. Thrashy breakdowns and an awesome guitar solo make this one a keeper. I could see this band opening up for Amon Amarth or maybe even The Faceless.

Hopefully soon we will be graced with new full length album soon from the boys in After Oblivion. My musical taste buds cannot wait.

-Cicatriz

Listen to the album here: http://www.myspace.com/afteroblivion

The Great Sabatini 7"-- By the Power of Greyskull

A 3-song EP/ 7" (though essentially 2, since middle track "Helter Skeletor" is a minute instrumental), Montreal's The Great Sabatini and their self-titled 7" are a Lo-Pan-ish mix of rock with doom and stoner features.

They get big lyric points for so many diverse references in three songs (Rafael Sabatini, Vincent Lugosi/ Charles Manson, Jon Heder, He-Man and the Masters of the Universe), even though the lyrics are screamed into incoherence-- and the music is just as cheeky and surprisingly innovative: "Napoleon Sodomite" pounds along with a nice detuned-yet-nimble single-minded riff and "Trap Sequence" use a cool sequence of octaves to make things more heavy (rather than the ubiquitous power/fifth chord) and, even though it's instrumental is the best and most interesting track on here, eventually speeding up and into oblivion.

Kudos for writing catchy yet short doom songs. They get in and out cleanly and well.

Also there's banjo.

Nothing terribly unique, but fun stuff. Makes me wanna hear a full-length from these guys; if they can hold their penchant for being cute down to a dull roar (letting it enhance their music and not define it), should be very cool.

--Horn

buy and listen here: http://www.myspace.com/thegreatsabatini

USX - The Valley Path

 

The Valley Path is your local bar's alt-country band, in the aftermath of some tragedy, jamming,  having just discovered both pot and Black Sabbath.

US Christmas (USX) are Allison Krause gone stoner/dark psychedelic rock. Discerning minds might have already postulated this, seeing their logo, aka the "deer ouroboros."

It's one song, 39 minutes long. Like Sleep's Dopesmoker. Or Roareth's Acts I-VI.

Not a true 39-minute epic, like Roareth, not a great 5-minute song the band was too stoned to stop playing, like Dopesmoker--  it's more of a 39-minute remix of a single.

There's surprisingly little hyperbole, though, to the above metaphors-- there's all sorts of "non-metal" instruments, which totally work, there's a violin/fiddle in there, a female singer who tends to just double/harmonize with lead singer/guitarist Nate's vocals... listening to it late at night in the dark is intensely soothing, as different instruments come and go, and it remains nearly silent for stretches of a minute or so at a time....

Sounds like it could've been improvised...? Are USX the laziest jam band in the world? I dig it.

The Valley Path transmits a feeling of isolation, of a dimly-hopeful solitude, like nothing's around you now but something good might be coming-- like looking out to see at night, with a CB radio you hope with come back with someone's voice on it....

Great? Definitely not. But definitely very good.

USX Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/USX.APPALACHIA

Winter - Into Darkness

 

WINTER: long-lost B-sides of Hellhammer doing technically-inept Cream covers in half time, "Spoonful," or "Blue Condition," maybe--

Gather 'round cenobites, my hierophants, my lovers of the living rumbling sonicity, seekers of the divine resonance, spelunkers of the lower frequencies...

I have songs to be heard as ley lines, as tea leaves-- these words the hand that scatters them in your cup--

Here begins your travelogue, with I, your guide, your seer, Beatrice H. Virgil-- lovely to meet you.

So begins the listening, stylus digs in vinyl, forehead on the floor, by the woofer, ears to the ground-- facedown, gazing into vibration:

Aaaaand... dissonant monody! Into Darkness is a very dense sound--bass and guitar and frequent tom use (nearly as much as the snare-- really think about that) give the whole album a homogeneous, "single" sound, like Sunn O))) or Earth, but somehow with more instruments seemingly involved-- this weakening of shape, a mass of low frequencies and infrasounding....

First track, "Oppression Freedom/ Oppression," a six-minute instrumental, at 3:15 starts the first of many bent simple power chords-- layered into, clutched at, beseeching --like a moan, or a bleat-- there's howling overdubbed leads in the background--

"Servants of the Warsmen" and the album's first syllable of "RISE" announces the departure of the instrumental before it-- at 2:02 starts a solo like nails on a chalkboard, and at 2:15 we get the "Ooooh!" that could not be more like Tom G. Warrior--

One highlight, "Goden," is mostly a phased/ flanged minor riff, a snare that hits between tom-rolling tribalisms, punctuates the undulating sonic weight... at 4:00 that upbent note with static keyboards, the single tom drum pounds-- could this really be more simple?

"Power and Might" begins as they do, so slow it's nearly backwards, but then D-beats off (hee) into the distance; Celtic Frosty, showing Winter's punk roots; this instrumental segues into the Motorhead-ish...

..."Destiny," track 5, which at 7:25 crashes into D beats again, with solo crashing toms: the emperor with burgeoning visions of His Return (from Elba...?); track 6, "Eternal Frost," with his hand-of-doomy main riff....

The vocals are clear and high in the mix-- they might be mono/bi-syllabic grunt collections, but you can understand them fine... their tone and most lyrical content like some ousted savage powerful ruler, Genghis Khan or Sauron, bitterly chewing words of his brooding reminiscences-- a dethroned emperor? Ha.

haarp plays numbers like this-- riffs with no tonal center: they wander and revolve in their eccentric orbits: I dare you to hum the home key of these....

Final track "Into Darkness," a slow lurching patient rhythm, like a death metal breakdown section though even slower, at 3:50 finds the bass becoming very slightly dissonant, like he's moving one finger slightly too far up or down, one way or the other-- and this making an impressively heavy effect, like the song is gaining so much mass it's too dense to move and is coming doooooown, falling into its own orbit --it happens again at 5:50-- and at 6:30 a sudden "raked violin" sound scared yours truly shitless....

Winter's tunes are not "low energy," but "no energy"; live, they look like they're delivering a speech about tax expenditures during the previous fiscal year-- not to say, oddly, that they look bored: they don't.

Aaaaaand: just like Hank Mobley wrote most of his best licks in queer/strange-ass distant keys like F# or Dd, just like Hank Mobley played swirling licks on the tenor that sounded easy but were finger-manglers when you yourself picked up the horn, just like Hank Mobley, when living, was famous only among the fellow musicians who knew his subtle secret, his quiet rebelling genius--

--Winter were (in this, an oldy reissue from the ancient 90s) doing some still-subtle stuff with those guitars:

Witness:

The six strings are waaaaaaay down in the mix: strangely they're least obvious, but still PRESENT as fuck, with a rare use of some stompbox phaser/ flanger,  lending the sound cool dissonant instability-- like it could shake apart at any time....

Tuned all the way down to A (eventual home of Yob and Salome): rarely pedal-toning the open chord (like the main riff in "Am I Evil?" or Anthrax' "One World"); their "Goden" doesn't do it at all until over five minutes in....

This might be serialism metal-- no real riffs in the classic sense of an ostinado, no real key centers, like they're loathe to hit the same power chord twice... difficult to even find the tuning they're using, because they so rarely use the open chord -- you know this is SUPER rare in metal, especially doom-- we live to hit the "BONG" chord, to fire up that open C# or B or A or Ab, to just let it sing, to let it hang out...

There's a lot of patience in these riffs, even more than their tempi might suggest-- the know they've got that open A to "BONG" and they're stingy with its sheer power... but we love it when it shows up, don't we, bitches?

The riffs are nearly all chromatic-- inching by inch, stepping by step-- so there's more room to move, more freedom of expression (very punk, p'raps) in that many more notes "fit" the song than with minor and major riffs--Mr. minor mode is more ambiguous, since with more tones, more sounds available, they're more potentially off-putting-- your ears are all "Me no know where we're going and me scared!"

Winter rarely speed, but musically speaking, they establish early on that Into Darkness can go literally anywhere at anytime-- like how a horror movie's different from any other kind, e.g., Director David Fincher's saying Se7en, with the finding of the Goopster's head, let you know this was not a crime movie, not a mystery, but a HORROR movie--

And had been the whole time.

All the members of Winter have punk backgrounds, but this isn't punk doom-- it's doom in the most basic sense, with a minimalist, fuck-it, do-we-have-to-know-how-to-really-play-our-instruments punk ethic.

Vincenzo Galilei, Galileo's dad, said:
"...in setting to music a sonnet... or other poem in which occurs a line saying, for example: 'Bitter heart and savage, and cruel will,' ...many sevenths, fourths, seconds and major sixths [were] sung between the parts and by means of these, have made a rough, harsh, and unpleasant sound in the ears of the listeners."
"Goden"'s main riff is a grind between two chords right next to each other (a second). One of "Goden"'s lyrics is this:

Hear the piercing cries, of the fourth horsemen in the wind.
Galileo's pop Vinni was right. And this about 400 years ago. He saw Winter coming, baby. He laid out there, Nostradamus-style, the rules of earth shaking tunage.

He knew music. He knew music was/is animal bones splayed suggestively, letting you know what's what and what what will be... like birds on wires as notes on staves.

Words about music like Into Darkness are not criticism, not commentary: they're translation! Interpretation!

Is that unnecessary? You bet 'tis, clyde. You with the ears should just listen, but there are words --like these-- to get  you to listen... like Zen training, like Shikan-taza... words to remove sickness caused by words
.
Music students train to portray and project the "color" of a melody's phrasing, how to change it, de-saturate it, warm it up-- what is Winter's color?

"In [Asian] music, for instance, a particular mode or even a particular pitch may become associated with a specific sentiment or humour as well as with connotative concepts such as winter, night, and blackness."*
Winter are two fifth chords grinding beside to each other, moving back and forth. Sonic tectonics: Pangaea-cum-Gondwanaland and Laurasia via the first and second frets.
Boring? Yes-- potentially very.

But we don't listen to doom for change, we listen for its very lack of it: heaviness, mass, sheer density from inviolable, inevitable, and immovable objects... making sound.

Like approaching Winter.

--Horn

Buy here: Into Darkness / Eternal Frost

Beehoover - Concrete Catalyst

I strode with purpose into the anteroom outside of the Oval Office on my way to see the President.  The President’s receptionist attempted to stop me, but one look at my intense demeanor was enough to convince her that I would not take kindly to being hassled or delayed.  Five strides and I was across the room, forcefully opening the door, and making one last mental check of all the information I needed to relate to the Commander in Chief.  I knew I would be interrupting a meeting the President was having with some of his top advisors, but this situation could not wait.

“Ladies and gentlemen.  No time for pleasantries I’m afraid.  I need the room…right now.”  My words complemented my glare in persuading all of the advisors that I meant business, and they quickly extricated themselves from the office.
“Okay Secretary Penfold.  Would you mind telling me what this is about?”
“Mr. President, we have a situation.”
“A situation, Secretary Penfold?”
“Yes sir.  We have just received intelligence defining a clear and present danger to the United States of America, as well as the rest of the world.”
“All right.  Where does this threat come from?”
“Germany sir.”
“Germany?”
“Yes sir.  Two Germans have created a new weapon ripped directly from our worst nightmares.”
“What kind of weapon are we talking about here?  Nuclear, chemical, or biological?”
“None of those, sir.  This appears to be an entirely new type of weapon.  It is auditory in nature; a sonic weapon so to speak.”
“It uses sound?”
“Yes sir, music to be exact.”
“Music?  Seriously Secretary Penfold?  What exactly can this music do?  I listen to music everyday, but we don’t raise the country’s alert status every time I turn on my stereo.”
“Correct sir, but this music has been specially formulated to affect the environment it’s played in; specifically buildings and structures.”
“What do you mean Penfold?”
“Sir, what was the last Hollywood action film that you watched?”
“I think it was a James Bond movie or something, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“Just humor me sir.  Were there many explosions in the movie?”
“Of course!  It was an action film for crying out loud!  There were things exploding in almost every scene!”
“Mr. President, do you remember any ordinary building blowing up, one that did not contain any kind of explosive or accelerant?”
“Yes.  Now what is the point of this line of questioning?”
“That is exactly what happens when this music is played.  This music acts as a concrete catalyst.”
“Penfold, are you saying…”
“Yes sir.  Point a speaker playing this music at a concrete structure, or even something built with a small concrete component, and it will explode like a giant stick of dynamite!”
“Mercy!”  The President paused for a moment exhibiting grave concern.  “Tell me we know who has this weapon Secretary Penfold.  Tell me we know where it is!”
“We do sir.  The two men responsible form the band Beehoover.  Their base of operations is Esslingen, Germany.  They are located there now.”
“Good.  Send a representative immediately.  We need to make contact with these men as soon as possible.”
“Yes sir.”

Waveriders I give you Beehoover; the righteous, mighty, and inventive two piece ensemble from Germany that is out to send your musical enjoyment scale into tilt territory.  Analyzing my own listening history, it was a forgone conclusion that I would embrace this band with wide open arms.  Honestly, I feel as if a focus group looked into my brain, checked off the musical elements necessary to excite me, and compiled several of them to produce Beehoover.  Let’s break it down as simply as possible, shall we?  Beehoover sounds like an aggressive version of Tool, with a splash of Primus, topped off with Clutch-like vocals.  Don’t worry.  I’ll wait for that last sentence to properly sink in before continuing.  No…I completely understand.  Trust me.  I feel exactly the same way!

Concrete Catalyst is the third full length album, and fourth overall release from this dynamic duo.  The epic nine song experience monopolizes attention spans for its entire fifty minute duration.  There is no let-up.  None.  Zero.  All killer, no filler.  You know the drill.  Take care of any errands or responsibilities before listening because once that play button is pressed, you’ll be lost to the world under a constant barrage of enormous riffs, bottomless grooves, and brave explorations.  Perhaps the highest compliment I can give this album is that it makes me lose track of time.  I’ve lost multiple hours already, and this album shows no sign of relinquishing its grasp on me any time soon.  Problematic?  Not remotely!

As previously noted, Beehoover throws an avalanche of hammering riffs at the listener that refuse to be ignored.  Pick a song, any song.  No matter which one you choose, at some point you will be enveloped by wicked bass riffs and thunderous drumming.  It is unavoidable.  My two favorite songs from the album are “Sultana” and “Counted Is Bygone”.  “Sultana” begins with majestic, cascading bass chords that quickly transition into dissonance complemented with booming, echo heavy drums.  About a minute and fifteen seconds into the song the central heavy groove kicks in, producing instant fist pumping and head gyration.  “Counted is Bygone” burns brightly right from the start.  Quick, intricate bass strumming coupled with staccato drumming dominates the first half of this song before the latter half springboards into a full-on exploratory journey.  All of the musical exploration perfectly complements the sonic makeup of the song, serving to greatly enhance an already riveting performance.  Just fantastic stuff!

So there you have it waveriders.  If you a) are a fan of incredibly interesting heavy music, b) need a group to prove to you that a bass can in fact make you forget the need for a guitar, c) miss the sound of some of the nineties biggest non-grunge bands, or d) simply want to keep an eye out for what those wily Germans come up with next, you need to pick up Beehoover’s Concrete Catalyst.  Now let’s get back to the White House.

“Secretary Penfold, give me a status report.”
“Mr. President, our representative got there too late.  The music had been pressed and shipped out already.  The album had been uploaded onto the internet as well.”
“What does this mean Penfold?  What can we do now?”
“There is only one thing to do Mr. President.  We can’t stop the spread of this music.  We fully understand what chaos will result when people listen to this album.  All we can really do is set our top scientists and industrialists the task of finding a substitute for concrete.  I have a feeling we’re going to be rebuilding a great many things in the near future.”  After I finished my last sentence, the noise of distant explosions began to reach my ears.  It had begun.

--Penfold


Buy here mp3: Concrete Catalyst
Buy here: Concrete Catalyst

Ultraphallis - Sowberry Hagan

On Riot Season records, Liege, Belgium's Ultraphallus' Sowberry Hagan comes out January 24 and is...

...something...

...you should pick the motherfuck up.

Ultraquick version: an experimental cross between Sloath and Portishead.

Less quick version: it's got "typical" Riot Season production, like Sloath: a lot of bleed between tracks, making a single lumbering, massive doom metal sound, rather than several tracks overlaid each other. Frankly, it's a sound I really enjoy, and one that sounds great whether at (my fave) jet engine volume, or through good headphones. It's an organic monster-- the Swamp Thing coming into your ears (literally?).

Track shortlists:

"The Red Print": includes the (almost certainly improvised) vocals by Oxbow's Eugene Robinson, in a remixed ambient-rock track, all the while managing to sound like a metal version of Leon Thompson and his work with Pharoah Sanders. Soooo nice.

"Torches of Freedom": ambient, noise: spoken word about Bush administration... "The Loss of Their Teeth" is beautiful, almost lullaby-like; "Golden Fame" is riffy and introspective, and most easily encapsulates how Ultraphallus hits: a doom metal Portishead....

"The Crumbled" is banjos and birdsong (did I mention Ultraphallus were experimental? See this link about Eric Dolphy and birdsong... it sorta hits at where they're coming from, baby)....

"Cinghiale" includes increasing tape hiss and saxophone, and seems to me to be the perfect cross betweeen the love of "sound" and the love of Doom (like Preslav Literary School)...

I"ndians Love Rain": brooding, complex, mysterious (and does the title make more sense in Belgian French...?).

"Right Models" and "River Jude" are easily the most rocking tracks of the album, like a slow rock version of Kylesa's "Scapegoat"... or a combination of the Descendents and Sloath meets L7....

Album opener, "Pathological Freemind Verse" is (intentionally or not) an homage to Merzbow, all noise and intent....

Ultraphallus rocked a shitton of new sonorities: banjos, alto and soprano saxophones, noises and samples and field recordings-- as much as someone as abstract as Eric Dolphy-- and blends them all into a stew of sound, so much so that I, who plays soprano, alto and tenor sax, couldn't tell which sax was which.

Maybe that's the most apt description of Sowberry Hagan: an attempt to blend, without regard for the listener, pretty much every genre that comes into their minds....

The album title is a Mark Twain reference, and an obscure one at that: it's referenced once in Huckleberry Finn, Chapter 6, (about a man renowned for his cursing).

Musically! ...Myriad elements: doom, ambient, noise, sampled sounds, Kate Bush, Swans, death metal, Portishead, crushingly heavy alternative....

Engineering! ...Overall what I'm calling a "dusty" sound: Sowberry Hagan was "remixed with low frequencies," including sub-mixed samples, hidden noise, and other Interesting Sonic Oddities....

Overall? The haiku* review?

Oppressive
Scary and reassuring
Like warm grave soil



--Horn


Riot Season Records: http://www.riotseason.com/news.htm

Ultraphallus Myspace: http://www.myspace.com/ultraphallus


*I know this is not Haiku form.

Electric Wizard – Black Masses

There are many (too many, in fact) doom metal bands out there but I will always make time for Electric Wizard. Black Masses is the Dorset, England band’s 7th album and is pretty much business as usual but there are a few different audio elements to keep things from getting too redundant. The Black Sabbath/Pentagram foundation remains as well as NWOBHM creeps like Venom and Witchfinder General but there’s a stronger psychedelic feel than on some of their previous records. It also sounds a bit like the influence of fuzz-guitar maestro Davie Allan is in the mix, too. Not surprising since Electric Wizard love all the violent 60’s biker movies that Allan did music for just as much as the horror/cult films they sometimes sample.

The twin axe attack of singer Justin Oborn and wife Elizabeth Buckingham is very thick, fuzzed out and layered with trippy effects. Justin’s vocals pop in and out of the mix to bleat his bleak views and call upon Satan to help him navigate this wicked world. Shaun Rutter’s drums plod and thud accordingly in a most Master Of Reality way and blend well with new “necrobassist” Tas Danazoglou. It’s worth noting that Tas has some really intimidating facial tattoos.

For a band so heavy and negative, the songs are surprisingly catchy. “Black Mass” will have everyone yelling “hear me Lucifer” loud and strong at the live show. “Venus In Furs” is not a cover of the Velvet Underground classic (although I’d like to hear them tackle it) but does share the S&M subject matter. Clocking in at 8 minutes, my favorite song might be “The Nightchild” just because of the strong Witchfinder General feel.

The entire album is solid and flows together really well. The tempos are never too fast, and they really excel at the real snail crawlers like “Satyr IX.” There’s even an instrumental dirge called “Crypt Of Drugula” with some very cool atmospherics that’s cooler than anything Eno’s ever done. This is a great one to play late at night in a car full of people you don’t know very well. They’d really freak! Unless they’re already freaks, then they’d love it.

-- Woody

Buy here: Black Masses
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http://www.myspace.com/electricwizarddorsetdoom

Howl - Full of Hell

Full disclosure: yes, there are forgettable songs. Yes, they stay in D flat too long. Yes, this album rocks so hard those previous yes's don't matter.

Full of Hell showed up so high on my year-end "best of" list that I owed my soul to review it. (Satanic legalese semantics. You understand.)

First off, I practically sucked the metaphoric phallus off of their first EP, Howl.

Second, I pre-ordered Full of Hell (I never do that) from the Jonsing for its sludgy grooves... and all to absolutely no disappointment here, daddy-o.

Third, I have bought not one, but two tickets to see Howl live, and failed to make both engagements. These are the only times I've not made it to a gig I pre-paid for. Both times for strange reasons I won't go into here. I don't know what the metal deities are trying to tell me, frankly.

And I don't care. I refuse to listen, Buddha/ Jahovah/ Moses/ Allah/ Ganesh/ Satan! Howl's power over me is too strong! Now back off and heed my four areas of Howl's awesomeness!

Ahem. *Adjusts tie.*

Area A: Riffs

The record is as close to my riff Nirvana/ Valhalla as I've gotten thus far in my journeys on this plane: in my metal nerd fantasy world, I imagine the greatest sludge album to be composed entirely of riffs as good as Black Sabbath's Into the Void: snakey, sessy riffs in minor and diminished chords, detuned and played lento. All the songs on this record are riffs constructed to work together. If that sounds oversimplified, it really isn't: think about it, most sludge/ doom records aren't all riffs-- they're a riff here and there, linked by open (i.e., BONNNNNG!) chords.

Not that that doesn't sound good, but it's not memorable at all. Very nearly anyone in the world can pick up a guitar or bass and sound the open note. Fewer can write actual riffs that flow together. Howl do, baby.

Area B: production/ engineering/ mixing

Think ...And Justice For All. Dry. Very dry.

At first I didn't like it: the Howl ep sounded very different, more saturated, warm. After many listens, the nearly bone-dry production grew on me, and it made me respect the record even more, as it emphasized the songwriting-- there's no so-amped-up-it-clips production to mask a lack of skill in the songs' construction.

Track highlights: Asherah, Jezebel, Heavenless, The Scorpion's Last Sting, and The Day of Rest.

Area C: Drums...?!

99% of drums are never noticed: that's pretty much the function of that timekeeping device, to keep everything together, animate it-- invisibly. There's only two reasons to notice a drummer: because they suck, or because they're awesome. Howl's Timmy St. Amour is delicate, tasteful, fast, graceful yet still heavy. He's the perfect foil for the simple thick riffs. He, Behemoth's Zbigniew Robert Promiński, aka Inferno, and Intronaut's Danny Walker are three of the most perfects skinsmen I've heard in the last few years.

Area D: album cover

Well, just look up there at that motherfucker. I put in high-res for a reason.

--Horn

Buy here: Full of Hell
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The Budos Band - III

Staten Island’s finest instrumental Afrobeat band went into the studio for their new album with the intention, according to their bio, of making a psychedelic, doom-rock record but admit that it came out sounding like a Budos record. That’s not a bad thing at all considering that The Budos Band are one of the best musical units around regardless of category. The creatively titled III is their third album and picks up where the first two left off, but do contain some darker grooves.

Album opener “Rite of the Ancients” is The Budos doing business as usual – upbeat, funky and tighter than hell. Excellent horn charts, powerhouse grooves and hypnotic guitar lines weave in and out of the overall sound. “Black Venom” is up next and is indeed named in tribute of Black Sabbath and Venom. It’s a darker groove than standard Afrobeat and the organ is way up front and mysterious sounding. Unfortunately, there are no musical references to any of Venom or Sabbath’s classic material but here’s hoping they cover “Angel Dust” and/or “Supernaught” soon.

For a bunch of guys from Staten Island, NY they can get downright exotic sounding on jams like “Mark Of The Unnamed” and “Raja Haje.” And I thought the most exotic thing you could get on SI are some decent rice balls. The album is paced very nicely with faster ones like “Unbroken, Unshaven” mixed up with slower ones like “Nature’s Wrath.” 11 songs in 38 minutes is just the right amount of time for a band like this. It leaves you wanting more and will have you reaching for their other two albums since no one else really sounds like The Budos Band. The only dud on the album for me is the Beatles cover “Reppirt Yad” (read it backwards). On previous albums they’ve done creative remakes of Sly’s “Sing A Simple Song” and the Temptations’ “My Girl” but this one kinda bores me. It doesn’t help that I’m not really a Beatles fan and don’t ever need to hear that song ever again but, hey, it’s the last song on the album and easy enough to skip over. It will probably help sell them a few copies, so more power to them.

The Budos are an outstanding band that should appeal to anyone with a pair of ears. Some of the guys pull double duty with the incredible Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings and record for the consistently funky Daptone Records. As good as the records are, the live show is even better and a lot of fun. Let’s hope the next one is a double live album (recorded in Brooklyn at Southpaw, naturally).



--Woody

Buy here: The Budos Band III
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Buy from Daptone Records:  Here


http://www.thebudos.com/

Cough - Ritual Abuse

Quick and dirty review: Infrasound.

You heard (read) me. Infrasound. That sums up Cough's second full-length, Ritual Abuse.

Please say more, Horn, you teasing bastard, you say? As you wish, master.

Infrasound is any sound below 20 Hz-- and is inaudible to humans. At high enough volumes, however, the body can detect the sounds the ears can't.

How does one know the body is detecting infrasound? Dig these symptoms:

awe, dread, anxiety, extreme sorrow, revulsion, fear...

...the phenomenon often credited with "creating" residual hauntings is also the aftereffect of Ritual Abuse, especially at jet engine volume-- as it's meant to be heard. It's not a coincidence that Cough's listening experience is similar to being left alone in the bowels of a haunted asylum in the small hours.

Cough are at the far left (hand path) of the metronome AND the tuner: played slow, tuned low. Some track slither by, slowing, slowing... with so much space between each count of the drummer's right hand... they're almost rubato, without time... the fifth chords ring like distant knell of a haunted church-- unpredictable and inevitable.

Come (tune) down with us, Orpheus, let ol' Kharon carry you across, through the caves of Ritual Abuse, this slab of audible damnation--

I played Cough's previous, Sigilum Luciferi, like it emitted opium per revolution. I dig Cough, I dig their Blues for the Evil. Don't forget that's what heavy metal is: detuned blues for the suburbs, in high gain, with long hair....

Appropriate to the devil blues/ blackened doom, tracks are reviewed in backwards order.

Closer, "Ritual Abuse": sludge-crusted, sludge spraying opening riff... a radioactive riff for the day Cough are radioactive with sales....

Next: "Crooked Spine"... despair of the suicides in the acoustic intro: Neil Young in rehab for a habit he knows will kill him. An almost-acoustic piece that Alice in Chains would've written if they were truly depressed. "Who will save you now? Who will cast you out?" -- it's anguish blues for demons. Goddamned (pun intended) cool.

Next, "Crippled Wizard," the boss tritone riff connoting exactly the Fallen despair you'd expect... it's a blast.... Go on, Clyde... get in that shit....

"A Year in Suffering": the riff spiraling downward, a descent into the maelstrom in sound form, with groooove....

The overall repetition in the tunes, a psychotic delta bluesman fixated on the Riff, who must sound, like a Dervish, the deal he made with Satan...! Dig the expansion of the sound and vibe of Sigilum Luciferi, which I still herald as The Album Composed of (Sabbath's Vol. 4's) Cornucopia Riffs, aka Sludge Nirvana...!

Vocals: over-reverbed, like how they shriek during waterboarding in the Underworld... vocals that alternate between semi-sung and blared-- like the Belial or Moloch within the singer periodically gets control of his vocal chords--

Ritual Abuse is the best of Sludge Metal: a detuned corroded blues, obsessed with the flatted fifth and the satanic despair it spells when sounded. A despair for the 21st century. A despair... incurable.

A despair Goddamned enjoyable.


--Horn

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Black Sun - Twilight of the Gods

Have you ever taken a punch? Not the kind of punch in the shoulder you might get from your wife after making an inappropriate comment about her sister’s boobs, I mean a full on haymaker to the temple that sends a shooting pain through your head and literally forces you to see a flash of light!!! When this latest offering from Black Sun kicks in with the opening bars of “Code Black” it is the musical equivalent of that one punch. There’s no messing around with intros, scene setting or any of that bullshit. This kicks straight into a monster verse with a demolition ball of a riff and a full blooded obnoxious roaring vocal. From this point on there is no let up, Black Sun are out for blood and you can either give it up willingly or they will take it by force…and to be honest, even if you’re prepared to give it up willingly they’ll still take it by force!!!

Pigeonholing Black Sun is a thankless task. They fall loosely into the doom field but this isn’t the patchouli and flare wearing doom of Cathedral with a copy of Masters of Reality in one hand and a spliff in the other. Instead this is a nasty, dead eyed doom with a blackened crust, a bottle of PCP in one hand and a rusty blade in the other. From start to finish Black Sun fill every available space with monstrous huge riffs that range from a Melvins like dissonance to a St Vitus style pummel. “Crawling Saviour” comes across like early Cathedral being fisted by Satan himself as the dual vocal attack spreads from a belligerent bellow to a throat shredding shriek that has more than one foot in the black metal camp. “Terminal Velocity” however does manage to temper the barrage of grime with some subtle beauty that is vaguely choral and transcendental. Black Sun seem to understand that pure filth is more effective when you can see the occasional clean spot in the mire. “Gethsemane” raises its hands to Heaven with near religious fervour as the riffs spit and twist around a might central vocal figure whereas “Tabula Rasa” jerks spasmodically like the last dying twitches of a man beaten into final and fatal submission. The undercurrent of insanity never seems far away from the Black Sun sound…like an inmate finger painting with his own feces in a padded cell whilst listening to Slayer jamming with Voivod on 33 and a 3rd!!!!

Black Sun also know how to vary the levels of intensity. “Transcending the Mire” shows a level of restraint not seen so far in its psychedelic guitar drawl but the repeated vocal refrain of “Can’t take anymore” still seems to belch from the darkest corners of a tortured mind. At times listening to Black Sun is an emotionally harrowing experience that threatens to build pressure behind your eyes and make them bleed. Very few bands seem to attain this level of sheer intensity. Many try but invariably come across sounding like a cartoon version of pain and anger…maybe coming from Glasgow has certain benefits for tormented artists.

By contrast “Black Angel” seems almost perky…if it can be considered perky to have your balls kicked repeatedly by steel toe-capped boots. “The Soldier’s Prayer” also seems reasonably upbeat and approaches something similar to a groove but slits its own throat by delving back into Black Sun’s trick bag of psychotic doom to play out the song. Just as you think you’re beginning to get some sort of handle on the Black Sun sound they unleash “Baby Don’t Cry”. Here they pull Oxbow’s Eugene Robinson from his mother’s breast and throw him screaming, clad only in a soiled nappy to the middle of an empty room to vent whatever vile demons are plaguing his fevered mind. In many ways this is the standout track on the album. Not because of the musical content, which compared to the rest of the songs on offer is fairly weak; a collection of meandering discordant doom laden chords, rather it is Robinson’s schizophrenic delivery which ranges from a childlike cry to a full roar. “Because the hurt does not care” he shouts in the ultimate nihilistic statement of despair…there is no escape from pain. This is the sound of a man going through some major psychological cold turkey…utterly compelling but bordering on unlistenable in a voyeuristic kind of way, should we really be standing by and watching this happen?

Thank fuck then for “Warhead”, a pretty straight up belter of a song that rides on a kicking riff and a four to the floor rhythm. Not that this is a straight up rock and roll song by any means…no siree, Black Sun don’t play such games!!! This is still an abrasive slice of caustic rifferama and won’t see them breaking through to the mainstream any time soon!!! By this point we have one last test of musical endurance to go. The title track starts with a cleaner passage that is reminiscent of some the Amebix’s more delicate moments before delving into the pit of despair once more and delivering us to the land of the mighty riff to close the album in style.

Comparisons are far from easy. There is an air of Amebix throughout in the despairing nihilistic overtones, a touch of Melvins in the sheers down tuned heaviness, a little Voivod in the dissonant, jarring riffs, obviously a touch of Sabbath (isn’t there always?) in the fractured and changeable structures and maybe even a little early 90’s Quicksand meets Helmet for good measure...if they were black metal bands!!! It’s not an easy listen and the vocals may be an acquired taste for some but there is no denying that Black Sun have created an album full of brutal, monolithic power and painful emotional depth. Sometimes music needn’t be about beer and chicks, sometimes it’s a catharsis and not many albums succeed in purging the soul like this one. For a first release Head Of Crom Records have landed firmly on their feet here. Seek this out then play loud and scare your neighbours!!!


--Ollie

Buy here: Black Sun

www.myspace.com/legionofblacksun

Black Sleep Of Kali – Our Slow Decay

Life is too short for intros. I like how the first song “There Is Nothing” just comes crashing in. Full band with vocals and totally pissed off sounding. Perfect when you need to annoy the neighbors RIGHT NOW! Black Sleep Of Kali is a loud 4 piece from Denver that play in a vein similar to Torche or Baroness but with a bit more aggro. The riffs are intense but very catchy and there are some vocal parts for everyone to scream along to.

For a band that’s only been around for about 2 years these guys are very tight. The songs are mainly mid tempo-ish but contain plenty of left hand turns to keep your interest. Killer drum fills abound and the guitar/bass tones are massive. Lyrically they keep it pretty lean and mean. With sonnets like “we will all be forgotten in the end” (from “The Great Destroyer”) you don’t need to say much more than that. Faster ones like “The Crow and The Snake” really pummel the senses and would sound great blasting in the car as you drive off a cliff. Once they dig up your body they can play “Eulogy” at your funeral.

If you like it loud, negative and heavy then Our Slow Decay is right up your alley. And with a cool sleeve from everyone’s favorite tall Australian artist Seldon Hunt you can’t go wrong.

--Woody

www.myspace.com/blacksleepofkali

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Buy here: Small Stone

Doom On - Featuring Leather Nun America and Sanctus Bellum

With Ripple Music’s signing of Cleveland’s destructive Doom Gods, Venomin James, I just couldn’t resist the urge to plunge myself headlong into some serious doom metal.  Sinking down to the depths of darkness, I emerged safely, if not subtly twisted with these two doom-alicious nuggets.

Leather Nun America – Absence of Light

Not to be confused with that other Leather Nun from Sweden, or the classic underground comic by the same name, Leather Nun America sum up just about everything that I love in doom.  Ferocious riffs, massively absurd bottom end, and lyrics that search for that evasive ray of light amongst the darkness.  Coming to us on the fiercely independent underground metal label, psycheDoomelic, Leather Nun America is a surprisingly easy listen for the genre.  Vocals are roughened, but clean, not growled, gurgled or vomited, which is always a major plus for me.  The riffs, while intense and devastatingly heavy, move with a nice inherent groove, not sludgy or moribund.  And the guys actually know how to play, not hiding behind senseless walls of feedback noise.  They’re out there, right in front riffing right along.  And I like that.

Now, none of that is to say this shit isn’t heavy.  One listen to the opening of “Portcullis,” and you’d better be prepared.  The wall of despair hits you like a sledgehammer to the testicles.  Wave after wave of impossibly low-end riffs blast away, liquefying any internal organs in their path.   All the requisite influences are there, Motorhead, Spirit Caravan, Obsessed, Crowbar, and the tip of the crown to Lord and Master Sabbath.  But what Leather Nun America does with these influences is what draws me to them.  Rather than try and out doom the world, slowing things down to the absurdly slow pace of Sleep or the unwieldy (in my mind unlistenable) drone of Cough, Leather Nun America aren’t afraid to simply rock.  Check out the opening riff to “Ly Loa.”  Damn, that’s tough.  Throw in some electric soloing, searing through that monster of a groove and we really got something.  Loud?  You bet.  Dark and heavy enough to scare mother’s of small children?  Oh, yeah.  If it didn’t we wouldn’t listen to it.  But damn, besides all that, it just freaking grooves.

“Below Zero,” attacks me right out of the speakers with a Motorhead frenzy.  “Emblem” is a seven-plus minute doom epic that never loses its focus or my attention.  “Some Might Grow,” is a stunningly beautiful acoustic passage to match the best of Iommi’s classic interludes.  “Tools of the New Church” just assaults with its monolithic glory.  Beautifully done.

The album isn’t new.   Their third long player, it was originally released in 2008.  But for doom fans who like their music to move with an actual heartbeat, this one shouldn’t be missed.

http://www.myspace.com/leathernunamerica

Sanctus Bellum – Return to Dust

Man, I don’t know what’s drifting in the bayou’s down Houston way, but damn if they aren’t churning out some seriously heavy bands.  Recently, Pope touted the weighty wares of Project Armageddon, and now we got another monster of a doom band to bally about; Sanctus Bellum.   Return to Dust is their 6 song debut and if this indestructible platter is any indication, we got a monster doom player on our hands.

Recently, I’d been watching the history channel, and have become fascinated with ancient civilizations and their monolithic structures like Puma Punko, with their 800 ton ruins.  Images of those megalithic structures raced through my ravaged brain as “Shoggoth’s Ascent” erupted out of the speakers.  Truly epic in its scope, this is the music of an ancient, timeless race.  And let me tell you, those multi-ton slabs of granite at Puma Punko got nothing on the weight of the riffs here.  Small nations could collapse under their mass. Dense and impenetrable.   Sanctus Bellum lay it on thick and massive. 

Now, if the vocals sound familiar, it’s because they belong to long time Ripple favorite Mr Plow’s singer Justin Waggoner, and his vocals work perfectly here, particularly on a track like the blazing epic “Dagon’s Bride.”  Waggoner’s not afraid to gruff up his voice or leave it clean and soaring when the part calls for it.  Either way, the dude can actually sing which in my mind is always a plus for any band.

As for where Santus Bellum comes from.  Of course we got the requisite Sabbath, but they bring in more of the post-grunge riffery to them than simply lose themselves in the 70’s.  Trouble is here, so is some post-Alice in Chains, as are others.  They even bring in some tasty classic metal harmony guitar riffs which just blare out all fiery and mean.   Lyrically and thematically, each song on the self-released Return to Dust references H.P. Lovecraft, but you don’t have to be a fan of that demented author to get into the metal meal these cats lay out.  Just embrace the neck-breaking riffery of “Curwen,” or the massive epic, and monstrous refrain of “God’s Own Warrior.”  Imagine yourself at that ancient granite ruin of Puma Punko as “The Reddening West,” blares from the stereo.  See the ancient people, the warriors, the sacrifice.   Or simply lose yourself in the twilight groove of “White Cat.”  Heavy and inspiring.  Dense and moving.  Sanctus Bellum are one to watch.


--Racer

http://www.myspace.com/sanctusbellum

Atolah - Relics

Pure filth done right. Atolah are an instrumental doom trio from Australia that will thrill fans of Sleep, Electric Wizard, etc with their suzzed out negativity. Even better is that it seems like these guys may have a sense of humor. The first song “Dead Leg” starts off with a hilarious sample of someone with a fancy British accent confessing to murder. It’s a great way to start off a record and a great intro to a REALLY heavy song. “Dead Leg” sets the tone for the rest of the EP – slow, dark, brooding, pulverizing.

 The title track slows things down even further. Pierre’s Rickenbacker bass is very dirty but has a nice snap to it, almost venturing into Killdozer territory at time. According to the bands myspace page JB pounds the drums on the EP but the current drummer is Leeroy. Either way, the beat crawls but maintains a nice slaveship rhythm. Zaheer’s guitar is completely distorted and sounds like he’s playing through a wall of fuzzboxes and all the batteries are about to die.

“Drown It Or Leave It” and “El Duce” are the longest songs, around 7 minutes each but don’t outstay their welcome. The riffs are strong and the playing is solid so the lack of vocals isn’t a big problem. It would be cool to hear someone with a good Ozzy wail moan on top of some of the jams. The standout song has to be “Weedy Gonzales,” and not just because of the excellent title. This one has a little extra pummel to it that will really get your noggin rockin.

If super heavy stoner doom is your bag, then pick up a copy of Relics and show these creeps some support.


--Mighty High

Buy here: Relics


http://www.myspace.com/atolah