THE THIRD OF THE STORMS: SEMI-RELEVANT RECORD REVIEWS BY AND FOR THOSE WHO FREQUENTLY CAN'T SEE THE FOREST FOR A BLADE OF GRASS AT THE FOOT OF ONE OF THE TREES. Forward, delete, repost, or rewrite as you see fit. Just don't include my e-mail address or full name. No crediting necessary or desired. If anything stated is flat-out wrong (i.e., “Hey Brad, Pek is from Belgium but you identify them as being from Minnesota” and not “Hey Brad, you say Dehumanizer rules but that record actually totally sucks”), please let me know and I will correct the error. There are no links, downloads, or label contacts, just text. If you aren’t willing to actively seek something out on your own, you don’t deserve to hear it (let alone have it). I offer the following for Lou, for Kevin, for those who have traded with me over the years, and for you. Hail Autopsy. ************************ ***NEWS*** I recently did a review of Parabellum’s (COL) 1987 “Sacrelegio” mlp for a book on black metal that Jason from Atomizer is putting out. The book will include dozens and dozens and dozens of personal reviews of classic black metal albums from folks involved in making such noise. Artwork, too. The final list is still developing, but already includes everyone from the Reverend Kriss Hades(!) to Pete Helmkamp to King Fowley to Proscriptor to Don of the Dead. It should be pretty incredible, despite my inclusion. Check www.blackmetalrevolution.com for information and updates. Thanks to Lou for getting me involved, and thanks to Jason for accepting my piece, for offering encouragement along the way, and for taking on such an ambitious venture in the first place. TRTRKMMR will be playing Saturday night of the Minneapolis Heavy Focus Noise Fest (April 23 and 24, 2010). “Reality” Dave Bailey will be assisting with the effort. And by “assisting,” I mean “doing just about everything.” The only guarantee is that it will be severely unpleasant. We are planning to print TRTRKMMR longsleeve shirts for the event. 1991 Relapse style (large front and back prints, sleeve print…deal with it). If such a thing interests you, please let me know now. That’d give us a better idea of how many to make, and of what sizes (black American Apparel shirts…I think they run a little small). They will most likely cost around $15 plus postage. We also hope to have a cassette version of the Husere Grav split and embroidered patches. ***CORRECTIONS FROM VOLUME 3*** Thanks to Lou for pointing out both of these: Terror Organ is from the US, not Canada. I left out the second “s” in Kriegsmaschine.” I have to say, it definitely looks cooler with two than with one. ***FRAGMENTS OF REVIEWS*** “Metal” from Manilla Road: Following a lengthy, brooding ballad intro, the epic heavy metal part kicks in. After the first line of the second verse (“Chains will never…”) there is a moment where the guitar pulls back for one single, beautiful second and feedback fills the void before the completion of the thought (“…bind us to Hell”). Then he says “TO ALL FATHER…WE RAISE OUR SWORDS AND RIDE TO VALHALLA.” It is breathtaking in its glory. “Miss Misery” from Nazareth: Some days this is the only song I listen to all day. I love how the bass chases the riff at the end of each verse. And the little “ooaw” he throws in when the verse riff drops in after the first chorus. “Heaven’s on Fire” from Venom: Before tearing into the solo, Cronos shouts “light ‘em up…woaw!” That never, ever gets old. Never, ever, ever. “Mindscrape” from Cianide: The first two verses employ a crushing riff, the first half of which includes low chugs and then a higher chord. This is what is expected going into the third verse. Instead, the low chugs are followed by a LOWER chord. At top volume, it sounds like the world is ending. It almost caused me to wreck my car on the way into work the other day. So sick. ***REVIEWS*** Impetuous Ritual (2009; AUS)-Relentless Execution of Ceremonial Excresence I know it’s not the most popular opinion, but I think “Heretic” is an incredible album. It is in many ways akin to removing the back of a watch and observing the various gears as they spin and whir. Seemingly operating at disparate rates, but ultimately for a shared purpose. A watch, of course, has no intent or Will. The intricacies of Morbid Angel, on the other hand, are not merely mechanical but symbiotic. Such is the case here as well. I use “Heretic” as a loose touchpoint, but there are any number of key differences involved. Whereas Trey chose a tight, restrained tone and standard tuning (I think?) for his rhythm guitar machinations, the guitars here are deeply droptuned and distorted by dirt and sediment. The chords crumble under the weight of impact. Metaphorically and sonically. The interactions within are less precise as a result, but are still charged with active integration. At times this evokes visions of stonecut latticework and multi-layered mazes viewed from far above, other times it reflects an all-pervading chaos or late-stage entropy (i.e., Bestial Warlust extrapolated from battlefield to universe…or Portal in general). Solos shred mercilessly in true King-Hanneman fashion…kneeling at the Altars of Madness rather than astride the flow of Trey’s later-evolved “lava style.” In this sense, more accurate soloing comparisons are probably Slaughter Lord, Corpse Molestation, and so on. I first wondered if the solos might have been overdubbed, as it’s hard to believe one could solo in that manner on such severely droptuned instruments. Erik suspects 8-string guitars are involved...probably a more reasonable explanation. Sometimes the soloing guitars don’t even solo (i.e., play notes)…they just howl back and forth at each other across the dark chasm that lies between hard-panned audio channels. It’s unsettling. The drumming is frantic and blasting. It has two components that I find most fascinating. First, the drummer went with a hard, uptuned snare sound that I associate more with goregrind than with death metal. Lots of folks seem to hate this sound, but I am a huge proponent and feel that it adds a crucial element of visceral violence to the recording (listen to Last Days of Humanity’s “Putrefaction in Progress”…it’s like being punched in the face for 25 minutes straight). Second, the drummer does not rely simply on the violence of hard, straightforward speed (e.g., LDOH) for effect. There are seemingly random one-second blasts. There are points where he drops a half time bass kick while doing slightly nonlinear snare roll surges at full speed. There are maneuvers that I do not have the words to describe. The style is not as loose and unpredictable (in a classic jazz sense, not a slop sense) as Disharmonic Orchestra or Stargazer, but I hear many parallels. Mixed within are dank and claustrophobic doomy passages, the stench of which brings Incantation to mind…though these could also be attributable to diSEMBOWELMENT. The end result shares, for me, any number of similarities with Internal Suffering (vocals aside) and some of the slightly less disjointed Wormed material (again). Visionary and astral, yet grounded in Elder ruins. Seemingly abandoned to the non-adept…original intent beyond Earthly comprehension. Yet charged with the anticipatory spirit of Those who lie in wait. WOLD (CAN; 2009)-self titled ep First of all, massive thanks to Davey for giving me a copy of this…I wouldn’t have even known it was out otherwise. When he first handed it to me, I remember asking something like “so have you…heard it yet?” With the same hesitance, he replied “no, I have no idea what it sounds like…I just hope it’s not…well…” “I know, I know,” I softly interjected before he could finish. We quietly left it at that. The fact of the matter is that despite being hugely into the “L.O.T.M.P.” lp (and the Badb demo), both of us found the last few full-lengths to be depressingly (and increasingly) underwhelming. It’s not at all that any of it is bad…it’s simply not in line with what drew us to WOLD in the first place. I’m sure it’s all entirely consistent in Fortress Crookedjaw’s world, but we couldn’t make much sense of it. Who knows, maybe that’s the point. But as a result, we pretend those records don’t exist. Later in the week after being given the ep, I finally picked it up and looked it over. Woodcut of a guy flying a kite on the front. Odd, sunwheel-like image on the back. Nothing on the inside. Not much to base a preliminary opinion on, other than the song titles, the ambiguous statement “Sounds created by WOLD,” and the knowledge that it had sold out immediately. I put the record on the turntable and thought “this is either going to be incredible or incredibly bad.” I then had an idea. What if a band like WOLD (i.e., mysterious, inaccessible, and strangely overhyped) recorded two parallel eps within one ep? The grooves of the two versions could be interwoven on each side and depending on which groove the needle randomly picked up at the start the listener would hear one version of the ep or the other. This is, of course, not a new idea and has been done at least once before on a 7” (unfortunately by a band that is entirely lame otherwise). But what if the two versions of the ep were of vastly differing quality? One absolutely horrid, the other great. And what if the band didn’t tell anyone of this format? All sorts of people would buy it, about 50% would hear the bad version on their first listen, and then a large portion of those 50% would sell or trade the record without ever listening to it again (or they would play it once and pretend to like it, but know deep down that they couldn’t stand it). People would then try to discuss the record, but would end up entirely confused and ridden with cognitive dissonance. Only those who gave the record multiple listenings would have its true nature revealed to them…and they would either embrace or reject it entirely as a result. I kind of hoped this would be the case here. Not so. It’s just the bad version. Manipulated electronic beats. Forced transitions. Amateur noise. No vocals. No guitar. No coherence. No discernable concept. Basically, it’s an hour and a half of someone tooling around with a 4-track on a Saturday afternoon condensed into 7” format. Any number of pieces of it could definitely have been used effectively as parts of other recordings, but offer little on their own. I am convinced that either there is far more to this than I understand (e.g., the beats were handmade from really neat found sounds) or this is a total pisstake (“social pressure,” indeed). That said, there’s a great beat that takes up most of the B-Side. It has a slight electrofunk feel, but is nicely decayed to varying degrees. The end result sounds something like Zeigenbock Kopf covering Daft Punk. Do an extended remix and put it on a 12” and you could rock a house party with that one. 666 (CZE; 1983)-Nekrofilie demo There is that which resides in the penumbra of obscurity, and then there is that which hides dead in its darkest realms. Much like the Gnome (JAP) demos, this particular demo eluded me for quite some time. To the point that the chase became half the fun…scanning people’s tradelists, searching for offhand references, repeatedly saying “no no, not the Hungarian 666,” scouring old zines, et cetera. I finally did secure a dub a few years back and needless to say…it was fully worth the pursuit. Törr had long been a favorite, so it only made sense that anything pre-Törr (and pre-Kryptor) would be great as well. 666 seems to set the foundation for Törr in a similar manner to that which Ghostrider did for Necrodeath. The latter in both cases being raw and aggressive thrash, the former in both cases being even rawer Venom-influenced speed metal (though far more dark and sour than that particular source). The demo starts out with a throwaway polka romp soundcheck of sorts (you can practically hear the vocalist tapping his mic, saying “hello…hello? Is this thing on? Pavel…do you have another mic cable? Is that my beer?”), but after a minute or so the band members seem to come to their senses and refocus on the task at hand. A doomy intro riff initiates and then yields to a slashing speed metal gallop. Chords ring out as the vocals come in. Gruff and unmistakably Czech. Bass thunders along at full speed underneath. The riffing switches up from there on out. There is some great harmonizing from the bass and even a few Budgie-esque flourishes. Drums are dry and punkish and are primarily centered around the 1-2-1-2 beat. The pace shifts around unexpectedly, though. As a result, the songs are surprisingly unpredictable for a subgenre that tends to be willfully straightforward (esp. in 1983). The overall sound is similar to Tudor in some ways, but not quite as rudimentary and significantly less hollow in tone. The deranged cackling and ritualistic shouting at the beginning of the third track recalls the more erratic moments of the Root demos (and some of the early Master’s Hammer material). Even the first few minutes of the actual track have a strong early Root feel (i.e., dark and ritualistically rhythmic). But somewhere around six minutes in, something changes. It’s like they all looked up at each other, someone silently pointed at the “At War with Satan” cassette next to the stereo, and everyone nodded in “fuck it, let’s take this as far as it can possibly go” agreement. So they do. Fast riffs, slow riffs, bass solos, guitar solos, vocal wailings…whatever came to mind. A full seventeen minutes after setting forth on the pursuit, the track ends in a crashing musical implosion. The kind where the only thing left to do afterwards is kick over the drumkit, smash a couple beer bottles on the wall, and leave the practice space. In the midst of the tumbling and sputtering chaos, the vocalist keeps it together just long enough to retch “SIX…SIX…SIIIIIAAAAAAXXXXAAAAARGHTHBLLGGGSIXSIXSIX.” It is a moment of blackened brilliance, to be sure. Ghash (BRA; 2004)-Forest of Perpetual Pains demo A curious release, this one. Exceptionally minimal and primitive. Executed in an unorthodox manner that does not sound quite like anything else I can place. I have listened to it dozens of times as a result and it never fails to be both intriguing and worthwhile. I suppose there are some rough parallels with Sort Vokter and early WOLD, but without the shapeless momentum of the former or the erratically intricate vision of the latter. The drum programming is very thin and very rudimentary. Though the rhythms mostly fall in the mid-tempo range, they do not have the weight to plod along. Rather, they seem to roughly float forward…like the ghosts of Japan that advance while hovering off of the ground but with twisted toes dragging behind in painful friction. The bass appears to be speedpicked and the vocals howl and wail over the top. Nothing unusual there, in concept. What makes the elements truly take ghastly form and coalesce is that, as far as I can tell, everything is severely delayed. In consequence, the vocals become cavernous and helplessly distant. They wash over and through the empty spaces of the sparse recording. In tandem, the bass loses its “bassness” as the speedpicked notes blend into each other. A very strange, keyboard-like sound results, thereby adding morose hints of dark new wave to the recording. The drum programming, on the other hand, retains its identity in fair exchange for much of its sterile feel. At first I thought it had been tainted by a distortion pedal of sorts, but that did not make sense as the effect did not seem to universally affect the drum track. I now think that it was run through a delay pedal, with the delay then set to approximate the rhythm. From my experience, this approach creates crinkled undertones and layers of sonic tissue paper out of thin sounds, which, when advanced forward, evokes the previously-noted feeling of friction. I very much like the overall effect, as the whole is far greater than the sum of its parts. The layout adds to this with a nice, obscure feel. It includes a blown out photograph of a path through the woods…Old English logo font…minimal information…cheap photocopying. Conventional, yet comforting. There are a couple elements that seem out of place, though. First, the spine of the j-card offers the band name flanked by two big iron crosses. This is not entirely uncommon amongst black metal demos…especially the ones involving confrontational bands that deal in war and Will-to-power themes (e.g., Satanic Warmaster). What is uncommon is for this to be used by a band that is arguably non-aggressive and introspective. They are Brazilian, so I can't imagine the crosses are included for any sort of heritage-based purpose. Maybe they're there simply to antagonize the censors? Or maybe they’re not iron crosses at all, but ironic crosses? Hard to say. Second, the back of the tape states that it is “Limited to 800 copies.” There may very well be something I’m missing here, but if you’ve made EIGHT HUNDRED copies of your Xeroxed-cover, Casio-drum demo you’ve pretty much covered your international audience four to six times over. Eight hundred might as well be eight million. As such, if I had that many copies in hand I probably would have put something more like “Endless copies shall flow into and over your pathetic corpse, NOW AND FOREVER.” Or nothing at all. Mountain King (CHE; 2006)-Gotos Antichristus The release starts out with a great militaristic intro. Marching pace, fleshed out with snare rolls (and marching bass drum hits) and colored with various samples. The guitar lines are proud and hopeful. To be honest, I didn’t expect any of this and found myself pleasantly surprised (and intrigued…what did this have to do with a Mountain King?). Right around three minutes, the whole thing explodes into something a little more in line with what I had anticipated (i.e., melodic black metal). Initially, the primary momentum comes from the blasting drums and the dual speedpicked guitar lines. After that it becomes pretty clear that the guitars are leading. They riff all over the place and everyone else ducks and dodges to keep up. The combined effort certainly doesn’t sound like “Nattens Madrigal”-era Ulver, but something in the guitar tone, the guitar interactions, and the rhythm shifts reminds me of that lp. I very much like that the two guitars are hard-panned during any number of the harmonizations. They are in time with each other, but not necessarily on the same time schedule. The result is an engaging tumbling of notes that reminds me of an asymmetric, 3-dimensional cluster of data points rotated on its X axis. I was pleased to hear the bass take an active roll in the presentation…less for aggressive purposes and more for whispers of creative nuance. A slightly proggish feel is imparted as a result. The drums are very tight, very clean, and very processed. It took until the beginning of the fourth track for me to determine that the drums were, in fact, actually a drum machine. It kind of annoyed me that I was having trouble saying decidedly one way or the other though none of this ultimately detracts from the sound of the record. The vocals show a number of faces. At first grim and croaked, later rasped, wailed, whispered, spit, roared, and everything in between. It’s a very dynamic approach and is effectively executed. My only real complaints with the record are the weak integration of the samples and the final track. As for the samples, there are simply too many of them. There’s too much going on with the stringed instruments to warrant such distractions. Additionally, a number of them sound like they were downloaded directly off of a “cool sound effects” page on the Internet (esp. the crows, the rain, and some of the bomb blasts), fed into a MIDI sequencer, and then added (unmanipulated) via the repeated touch of a key. The end of the second-last track is a mishmashed mess…like he’s just pounding on the MIDI keyboard with open palms. It’s a minor point, but the guitar and basswork deserve far better than that. Additionally (and do I really have to say this?), no black metal record should sample George W. Bush. Ever. He radiates stupidity and foolishness, and the quality and atmosphere of a record can only be made less by his inclusion. As for the last track, there’s little to be said. It sounds like drunk high school kids covering an Abigail cover of Motörhead. It’s awkward and pointless. Why ruin the final moments of an otherwise respectable lp with something like that? Purtenance Avulsion (FIN; 1991)-Demo I I’ve been revisiting to a lot of early-90s death metal demos lately. In part because I’ve been reading that book on Swedish death metal (pretty amazing…thanks to the Milwaukee Public Library for getting it in), but mostly because that’s what I do all the time anyway. This particular demo has been getting repeated play as I clearly forgot just how good it was. The guitar carries hints of the Swedish Heavy Metal pedal sound, but it has less of the classic, canned undertone. It’s probably the same pedal, just with the “high” knob turned to 8 instead of 10 (for some reason that undertone seems to kick in right at 9). The result is thick and crumbly and seriously droptuned. Perfect for the style. Its expressions are most clear in the slow riffing…the speedier parts become a muddy blur. Bass adds heft to the sound, but doesn’t demand much attention of its own. It is nicely distorted and I suspect that this collapses much of its identity into the droptuned guitar. The drums, on the other hand, make their presence known. They’re dry enough to surface through the muck and tick along like sub-blasting clockwork. Vocals are deeply guttural and have a damp feel to them (e.g., Morgion) as opposed to the shifting granite texture that the lowest depths of the range frequently evoke (e.g., Incantation). There’s not a whole lot more to add. Solid old-school death metal of the best kind. Countess (NDL; 1997)-Hell’s Rock and Roll ep I did not previously pick this up because I thought it would just plain be dumb. I count on Countess for epic, moody Bathory-inspired filth…not rock n’ roll songs. Well, now I have it and I must say it’s pretty addictive. The ep sounds nothing like I expected (i.e., boring Motörhead worship). My favorite part is that over the four tracks it becomes increasingly Countess-like…as if he decided to take things way out and then hone back in on the classic sound. The first track is driven by what I can only describe as a ‘60s R&B funk freakbeat. Dry and potent. It scatters around all loose and sassy, providing just enough momentum for the big, clean bassline to bounce things forward…way upfront and entirely unapologetic. Paper-thin guitars converse over the top while vocals wail and shriek. Yes, there are hints of metal in there…maybe a touch of Motörhead at times…but you know what this reminds me of? The Make-Up. And Nation of Ulysses. The shimmy-shakedown of the Church of Gospel Yeh-Yeh. Put this track back-to-back with “Don’t Step on the Children” and you’ll see. The second track maintains traces of the dance beat, but eases into a bit more of a straightforward approach…probably worn out from the first track freakout. The full metal spirit is sighted and regrasped, as reflected in weighty chugging and valiant soloing. By the third track, it is once again undeniably clear that this is indeed Countess. Brooding and expansive…subjective steps along the path of a principled, protracted sojourn. Atmospheric choral keys herald (and characterize) the return to form. The fourth track appears to be a well-recorded live version of “On the Wings of Azazel” and is, of course, nothing but the classic style. I can’t imagine this ep went over well with anyone other than the most die-hard of Countess fans. At the same time, it’s probably arguable that that’s the case for all Countess releases. Pretty fucking awesome. Harley Gaber (USA; 1976)-The Winds Rise in the North From a deadstill morning, the Northern breeze arrives and washes the land with delicate, exploratory layers of strings. Some drone in the upper mid-range as they move through the open fields while others grasp higher tones as they reverberate against stiff blades of grass and stubborn leaves. Overtones swell and circle and gales present and recede. The strings are generally smooth and solidly pulled, but occasionally adopt a raw-edged raggedness that provides gloomy texture in a manner not unlike that which might later be associated with Hermann Kopp. It becomes apparent that the winds have brought dark clouds on their back and a palpable tension results as it is unclear whether the morose accumulation will precipitate or dissipate. Individual and collective strings in the upper register push to the edge of bursting, but ultimately pull back from the fray. Lower notes corroborate and compliment, but then sour upon one another without notice. There is a feeling satisfaction in the dance, even at its most sinister. Such anthropomorphizing gives way to the undeniable as escalation builds and the relapsing-remitting roundabout seemingly becomes primary progressive. The most sentient of lifeforms heed warning and take shelter. But it is not to be, for now. The cycle loosely repeats and repeats and repeats again…each pass with differing emphases yet an underlying familiarity. Minutes turn to hours. Morning yields to afternoon. In the end, power has been expressed and acknowledged without the need for actualization. This time. The Northern winds pass, sullen atmospheric vapors slinking in tow. Oskal (RUS; 2004)-Stahlkrieg demo This demo is easily one of my favorite releases that I picked up in 2008 (though it came out in 2006). I got it over the summer and was pretty taken by it then, but knew that its true value would be revealed upon the death of the season and the first fall of snow. Much snow has fallen since, and the tape has received near-obsessive play as a result. I would go so far as to say that the demo is probably unlistenable for most. To describe it as "lo-fi" would be an understatement. You could call any of the '97 Blazebirth Hall recordings "masterfully captured," "intricately nuanced," or "stunning in clarity" in comparison to this. Without exaggeration, it sounds like someone who was watching the band practice held up a phone and left the entire session as a message on someone's answering machine, the tape of which was then dubbed repeatedly and released. It's muddy and obscured and there is no way to approach it without getting your hands dirty. For those who choose to dig to its level and strain to make sense of its inscriptions, there is plenty to find. The demo initiates with a quasi-industrial death march. Mechanic in feel, but sodden with enough organic filth that it is impossible to tell whether its soul is man or machine. Frigid black metal of the classic late-90s BBH Russian style (e.g., Branikald, Forest, Ravendark, Rundagor) erupts shortly thereafter and carries through to the end. The riffs are as cold and hard as the consonant-based language of the vocals that howl above them. The drumming is difficult to make sense of as it is not only buried, but the muddied reverberations within the confused production seem to create polyrhythms which may or may not actually exist. I find this stunning. Most others will not. Deadwood (SWE; 2008)-Ramblack The recording is generally muddy and distant. Rumbling basstones evoke visions of weathered mountains and once central but now compromised lifedreams. These tones occasionally assume plodding rhythmic structure, not unlike a slowly advancing thunderstorm or the systematic dismantlement of unseen monoliths. Portions remind me of Maurizio Bianchi. The feeling of overwhelming distance and chronic pain is at first oppressive, but has the potential over time to allow the entire recording to fall into irrelevance or be relegated to the apathetic backwaters of learned helplessness. Such are the natural limits of the human mind. In defiance of this, harsh treble tones are employed to reign in the furthest reaches with a feeling of frayed, fractured immediacy and acute dysfunction. They sizzle and shriek, wail and soar. They gurgle like curdled electronic phlegm and scream like metal held fast to grindstone. At times this serves to add ragged, white noise texture and definition to the basstones. At other times it creates layers and rhythmic structures of its own, completely detached from the rumblings of the past. The vocals are harsh and distorted, but seem to serve more of a solipsistic purpose (perhaps accentuated by the use of heavy reverb) than anything aggressive or confrontational. This gives the feel of someone addressing and sublimating his personal multitude of demons. Some present, some past; some clearly articulated, others untenable. By the end of the exercise it is clear that nothing has been resolved. All will persist. But it is only in the warped culture of America that sad minds cling to the hope that anything can be cured or corrected (and the irrational sense of entitlement that results). Sounder minds, even at their most threadbare, understand that there is value in the process and that even the deepest despair may offer warmth and comfort if its etiology and form are explored, defined, and accepted. For it is at these points where we are closest to the reality of reality, and it is what we do with this knowledge that defines us as humans. Igor Wakhevitch (FRA; 1971)-Docteur Faust A lazy bassline strolls along, led by a loosely strutting drum beat. The bass increasingly expresses curiosity, and the drums respond with excitement. Something unstated is encountered, and the constitutional gives way to a tense, decidedly sinister orchestral reaction. Choral implements follow, both empathizing and mocking. Literal and emotional flagellation results as dazed atmospheres layer and integrate and vocal samples unfold and reverse. Darkness rolls in on the heels of a scattered rhythm, thick enough to belabor breathing like a firm steam. Gasping, the sympathetic system goes on high alert…adrenaline surging and anxiety ravaging as strings leap and stab. As quickly as it comes, it goes and a period of subdued reflection and recapitulation ensues and fades. Rather than taper down to heat death and then nothingness, new guitar and synth elements arise and transmogrify into a warping sonic absurdity not entirely removed from the fringes of the Coltranes' universal vision. Fragmented drums spiral, coalesce, and ultimately implode in a big crunch. As one. It is clear that projects such as Shub Niggurath (FRA) and Univers Zero bear the mark of this beast, and were in many ways shaped in its image. Amazing. Serpent Throne (USA; 2009)-The Battle of Old Crow The sticker on the shrinkwrap says "For fans of SABBATH and early 70's SCORPIONS." I guess that's fair, but it kind of misses the point. There are thousands of bands who draw from the general Sabbath and Scorpions well. This record is about the details. An extrapolation of influences so seemingly inconsequential that it's probably fascinating to most folks that any of us care/obsess about them at all, or noticed them in the first place. The first time I heard "Rock Formation," I noted aloud that there almost appeared to be some Maiden in the harmonized leads towards the end of the song. Dem turned and paused. He then gently corrected me, as one might a child: "Kind of…that's actually Wishbone Ash." It was a beautiful moment. So I probably would have gone with something more like: "For fans of ULI ROTH'S divebomb into the second solo (after the first chorus) on the 'TOKYO TAPES' version of 'SPEEDY'S COMING,' BILLY GIBBONS' hot lick that mimics the vocal line in the second half of the first line of the second verse of 'WHISKEY 'N MAMA,' and the tight restraint of RICK ALLEN'S drum fills during the pre-solo bridge on 'ANSWER TO THE MASTER.'" I guess that'd be a pretty big sticker. Anyway, it doesn't really matter how you label it…this record fucking rules. It picks up right where Ride Satan Ride left off in terms of concept, style, structure, and general sound. I would argue that the songs are generally more expansive, and generally less based in E and A chord chugging. This tones down the all-out-rock factor, but in exchange for some truly badass soloing, creative riffing, and moody (not in a lame way) ambiance. It's a worthy trade for sure. My only real complaint with Ride Satan Ride was that the drums sounded modern…maybe a bit too wet and full in the mix. This has been addressed nicely here. By losing some of the thump, it feels like the drums cut through the mix better and it's neat to see the change serve both a practical and a historic purpose. I would push for even rawer and drier sound (e.g., Creedence, Incredible Hog, The Guess Who), but that's just my taste (I like 70's rock to sound like it was recorded in someone's mom's garage). Beyond that, I'm truly amazed. Both in terms of vision and execution. Whereas the first lp was (in concept) the soundtrack to a never-made biker film, this new lp seems to serve more as the soundtrack to the rarely-acknowledged, much-maligned Hessian way of life and all the mystic wonder, dirt, and outlaw spirit within. The effort is greatly appreciated. Hail the Heavy Metal One Percenter Legions. Furdidurke (USA; 2006)-November rehearsal I first heard Furdidurke on their split demo with Bone Awl and have since associated the two even though there’s not much similarity in their respective sounds or approaches. Both are raw and aggressive, but the rawness and aggression of Furdidurke is not directly derived from Ildjarn, VON, LLN, and the like in the feral manner that it is for Bone Awl. It comes from somewhere else entirely but is familiar nonetheless. For a long time it vexed me because I couldn’t quite place it. Just recently it hit me. Furdidurke recalls (at least to me) early-to-mid-90s San Diego hardcore (e.g., Angel Hair, Heroin, Antioch Arrow, Swing Kids). The desperate rasp of the vocals…the rawringing, barely-distorted clang of the guitars (in the classic One Last Wish or Rites of Spring style)…the spasticity of the riffing…the threadbare feel…it really isn’t all that different from something Gravity might have put out in 1993 if the kids were a little less introspective and a lot more hostile. I don’t know if any of the approach was intentionally influenced by that sub-subgenre, but I would argue that it does serve as an effective marker for the sound. That said, I fully enjoy this tape. The tracks are not necessarily “epic,” but are certainly expansive…perhaps drawing from Weakling and some of the early-90s Scandinavian black metal (e.g., very early Enslaved and Emperor). The material is solidly melodic, but not overly (e.g., Cirrhus…who I think they share members with) or frustratingly (e.g., Envaatnags-era Horna) so. I find myself listening to it on a pretty regular basis. Yajna (USA; 2004)-self titled I remember when Yanni first gave me a copy of the cd a few years back. He said something cryptic like “you may or may not like this,” followed by a mischievous glance. I was admittedly skeptical. Though I absolutely love his playing in Stinking Lizaveta, the cd in my hands had an entirely different look and feel to it. It had the appearance of some sort of devotional material…like something a Krishna might try to sell you at the airport. It was clearly self-released with an awkwardly inverted low-resolution color scheme. The layout was covered in pictures of cute hippie ladies dancing in flowing dresses (intriguing, yet always suspect). The back noted that it involved only guitar and dumbek (some sort of hand drum). It was unclear to me exactly if and how Yanni might be able to make it awesome. Turns out, he did. Conceptually, the release serves as the documentation of a transformation ritual based in the metaphor of fire as an agent of internal and external purification. By making ritual offerings to the fire and its associated divinity, one is said to experience a powerful and direct relationship to the universal consciousness within. The guitar objectifies the metaphor nicely. Drawing from classical and Middle-Eastern technique, it playfully flickers and soars like the upper-most tips of a raging fire. It dips and dodges, but then rings out and retreats. There is a sense of urgency (enhanced by the precise, skittering dumbek), but it feels internally-directed in the way that fire knows only the Will to burn. Even at its most light-hearted, the notes are played solidly and resolutely as if to remind of the flames’ underlying power and destructive potential. This gravity is bolstered by the juxtapositional use of doomy riffing and dark melody. The end result reminds me very much of the time I heard the Florida death metal band Mysophilia perform an acoustic set on WTUL. I turned it on mid-song not knowing what it was. Based on the intricate riffing and the odd time signatures, I assumed that it was some sort of classical guitar piece. It wasn’t until the song ended and was identified as “Genital Decimation” that I realized what was going on. I see similar parallels here as well. Whereas many parts of the cd are firmly based in the tradition surrounding the ritual (particularly use of the dumbek and some of the melodies), other parts could very easily translate to death or black metal with the introduction of distortion and kit-based percussion. This is not to say that I think it should be amplified or that they purposefully took influence from those realms, but only that I find the parallels fascinating and that any number of folks who are into the more technical and epic reaches of death and black metal might appreciate this as well. David Jackman (GBR/2000)-Gun, Machine, Vickers, .303-Inch, MK-1 ep You know what? Sometimes all you really want to hear is the rhythmic lull of machine gun fire. So here you go. Mourner (USA; 2009)-self titled demo I was pleasantly surprised to receive this in the mail the other day from Mike of the almighty Loss. He had indicated that the demo was forthcoming, but I honestly didn’t expect it so soon. It has received regular play ever since. Dark rain has fallen for nearly every day for the past week, so it has been more than appropriate. The service initiates with an inverted, debased hymnal, thereby setting the mood for the unpleasantries and unorthodoxies to follow. Thick, sour guitar and bass punch in and ring out, backed by single, focused drum hits. The pace is glacial, and the chords congregate at a point of purgatory…temporally and psychologically fragmented beyond the concept of “riff,” yet undeniably connected. Something in it hints towards early Otesanek, but from a significantly more despairing perspective. And, where Otesanek often failed to embed its sparsities in solid ground, Mourner maintains an underlying, near-latent interconnection of elements via the subtle use of noise texture and protracted vocals (which howl and shriek and whisper and moan, tainted with both acidic distortion and cavernous reverb). As if to reclaim itself from the suffocating realms of the netherchord, the beast then erupts and thunders forward. Truly sick, discordant riffs commingle with funerary guitar lines. The cadence hastens, but never breaks a resolute trudge. As the second track sets in, it is clear that this steady forward motion will be embraced. It would seem that the heralds of doom, once dismissed, spoke in fact from a place of wisdom. The bass assumes a more active role, and the drums move away from punishment and towards propagation. It is as if the first half of the first track presented the question, and the remaining material imposes the one and only answer…the inevitable march to the grave. Once reached, the endpoint proves not to be abrupt nor sudden in its singularity. Rather, it rings out like a final, metaphorical note. Clean, clear, and all-encompassing. And within its fading sustain, reticent acquiescence, quiet reflection, and gentle acceptance are not only permitted, but encouraged. For therein lies the last gasp of a single moment, so powerful and pure. Siculicidium (ROM; 2003)-Transylvanian Resistance demo The first track kind of sounds like two dudes ripping sloppy metal riffs on a Saturday afternoon at Guitar Center. I like it, but couldn't help but wonder why the drummer didn't join in. The answer comes with the second track: There is no drummer. A drum machine kicks in, followed by cockrockish guitars and way-distant vocals. I like the effect…it reminds me a bit of an underproduced Ritual demo. They increase the aggression over the next couple tracks, but juxtapose it nicely with some moodier parts. It all ends with a somewhat underwhelming, choppy mid-tempo piece. Black Hole (ITA; 2000)-Living Mask Prior to hearing this, my only contact with Black Hole had been the Journey into Mystery lp from 1985. It is, of course, legendary doomed heavy metal of the highest order. Like mixing Manilla Road and Saint Vitus with ‘80s Italian darkness. This record comes not from that period, but many years later in 2000. I felt a hint of skepticism when I first received it based primarily on the late year of release but fed not slightly by the modern layout, font logo, goth song titles, and indication that a drum machine was involved. The heavy use of Lovecraftian imagery and the base fact that it was Black Hole release should have eased these doubts, but I often find that I relish the uncertainty. He or she who knows exactly what he or she is getting rarely appreciates it as much as those who articulate their doubts and ultimately have them crushed. In this case, my concerns were decimated not by heavy metal but by psychedelic horror-doom. Not doom of the modern drop-tuned riffbearing variety, but atmospheric doom of the Italian occultist underground…pioneered by folks like Jacula and Antonius Rex and amplified by others like Death SS and Paul Chain. Heavy organ and keyboard tracks heave and vibrate. They offer questionable guidance which has the potential to lead the listener through murky passages and into moody segues, but also onto strange, ill-fated tangents and into doomed dead-ends. Hints of Goblin persist, though sometimes lost in the thickness of the air. A hazy, dark prog (think Pater Noster) fog settles in. Bass meanders, presenting in varied incarnations (clean, flanged). An awkward drum machine stumbles and lurches through the darkness, as if fuzzydrunk on red wine. The delay on the other instruments swirls around it and provides a guiding cloud for forward advance. Structured riffing is far from central, but when it appears it does so in both the style and tone of Saint Vitus though with greater use of sour notes. The vocals often have a ‘70s feel to them. Clean-sung, with perhaps a bit of Liebling cadence at times. But they also seem to draw from late-‘70s new wave and proto-industrial, particularly when the voice adopts a psychologically distant, flat-affect tone. This plays well off of the warped rhythms underneath and provides an unexpected stability which might otherwise have been lost. Even when seemingly at their most discordant, all of the elements come together to form a cohesive whole. A mysterious, lugubrious, and multi-faceted whole. A reflection of past horrors, but also conduit for horrors yet unspoken. A weird tale unto itself. *UPDATE* Lou tells me this was actually recorded in 1988. That makes a whole lot more sense. Epitaph (ITA; 1990)-The Lord of Evil demo “Welcome to darkness.” The demo starts out with a good, classic horror intro that should serve to put VHS visions of Christopher Lee and Boris Karloff in the listener’s head. Doomed heavy metal kicks in from there. The riffs are solid in shape and thin in tone, which always makes me think of Saint Vitus. It took a minute to realize that the bassist is actually quite busy as his contributions are pretty buried in the mix (he shines most clearly during the solos, as there is no rhythm guitar). The vocals, on the other hand, are very up-front. They are sung from a relatively low point and are limited in range. It’s almost as if he could go higher but purposefully represses the urge to do so for lesser results. I suppose this could be viewed as amateurish, but for me establishes a subtle feeling of drama. The guitarist seems quite competent, but perhaps a bit over-ambitious as he occasionally stumbles and falls off time in the midst of his epic solos. I would never fault someone for this in this context, though. To me, it shows emotional investment and attachment (“I could try another take, but spontaneity would suffer for the sake of accuracy…I am proud of this solo for all its faults.”). Plus, I like the raw feel it presents and it falls right in the middle of some truly creative shredding. I also really like that he shifts tones for the solos from a somewhat processed metal crunch to an overdriven ‘70s hard rock twang (come to think of it, it kind of reminds me of D. Boon’s approach in Minutemen). Despite my lack of enthusiasm for the mix, everything comes together pretty well (esp. when considering the conventions of the style). It certainly does not sound like a 1990 recording…I would have guessed mid-80s. I should add that towards the end of the demo there’s a simple-yet-great instrumental track. Very dark and moody, slow and solemn…almost hinting towards some of the more brooding material on “…And Justice for All.” It reminds me of a quiet walk through the cemetery on a Fall day. Not for the purposes of visitation or remembrance. Not for any purpose at all. Simply for the sake of taking a quiet walk through the cemetery on a Fall day.