You might know him from that bafflingly popular song, Dance Wiv Me, but I preffer to think of him as this bad-ass african gentleman who got shot with bazookas and shit for stealing a bike.
The song itself isin't that brilliant, but I find it pretty appealing. I still can't get used to the fact that England has its own local mob (my Italian heritage tends to discriminate any different form of organized crime), let alone an expanding hip hop scene.
U Can't Tell Me Nuffin is an exotic piece of English hip-hop that got my full love. I'm still trying to understand whatever the fuck he's barking about there, so I'll just make my life easier by believing that he's saying '' You can call me muffin''. No problem, Dizzie. No problem.
By the way, did it ever occur to you that France holds the second biggest hip hop scene in the world after the U.S.? No? Yeah.
EDIT: You know what, fuck it. I might as well get his debut album and write about it. BRB.
I remember when, eons ago, I was banging my head not to metal, but to the fine sampled rhythms of underground hip-hop. I was (and still am) a hardcore fan and I can’t imagine not having a few hip-hoppers on my mobile phone to bad-ass around on my way to school.
The focus of today’s lesson is an exquisite group of baggy-clothed gentlemen called Jedi Mind Tricks. Just to be clear: their music has absolutely nothing to do with Star Wars, and even if it did, I wouldn’t give the slightest fuck , this isn’t freaking Wookieepedia. Get a life, nerds. Anyway, before browsing ebay for razorblades or rope discounts and shit, imagine how sad the doctors must’ve felt when they were struck by the shocking fact that REM’s music had nothing to do with medicine. Maybe that’ll cheer you up.
Before turning into a pile of sulfuric shit (late 2008), Jedi Mind Tricks were known for their legendary debut album, The Psycho-Social, Chemical, Biological & Electro-Magnetic Manipulation of Human Consciousness . It was highly praised for its simplistic name, tender, romantic lyrics and for dealing with light, day to day subjects such as the Illuminati, corporations, social crisis, society, the Freemasons, biology, religion, Kabala, mathematics, physics, robotics, and, most relatable of all, shadowy figures that control the human race through the means listed above. Through love, peace and tolerance, is what I’m saying.
Jedi Mind Tricks before they sucked.
Now you might wonder how different is this from Jay Z’s conspiracy-themed lyrical diarrheas that he keeps throwing at us, presumably hoping that we could see past his ghetto background. Thing is, Psycho Social was recorded with absolutely no hope for commercial success. There’s just these two guys, Vinnie Paz (then Ikon The Verbal Hologram) and 15 year old Jus Allah rapping over Stoupe The Enemy of Mankind’s beats in a basement somewhere in Philly.
The lyrical aspect is mind-blowing. Ikon’s metaphors and obscure references to all kinds of esoteric and weird shit and Jus Allah’s raw, barbaric delivery make for a dense, almost encyclopedic album; it’s like Salman Rushdie and Umberto Eco said fuck it and started rapping in front of the auditorium instead of giving eloquent speeches about potatoes or whatever the fuck smart people talk about.
But without doubt, Stoupe’s production gets the spotlight in this review. His intricate sampling (sometimes using up to 50 songs for a single track), mesmerizing beats and brilliant mixing make for a mysterious, in parts sinister atmosphere. Stoupe’s contribution to the album gives Ikon’s lyrics, whenever the case, subtlety, force, or violence. It also makes me obsessively Google every time I want to know where the hell he extracted some sample.
I could talk for years about this particular record, but that would just spoil your pleasure. If you’re into conspiracy theories, astronomy and other pick-up lines material, Psycho Social is clearly your cup of tea.
US crossover/thrash outlaws Municipal Waste have premiered the official video for the title track of their upcoming album, The Fatal Feast. The video was shot on the set of the space western television show Firefly, so I guess that's pretty cool. The song is about how The Waste are stranded on a spaceship and they turn into cannibalistic freaks then proceed to devour the ship's captain and the rest of the crew. The video is pretty much just that - watch out for the colon spinning/moshing bit, it's pretty rad.
The Fatal Feast is Municipal Waste's fifth studio album and is due for release on April 10th in North America and April 13th in Europe via Nuclear Blast Records. Should be good.
Every tech death fan is (or should be) probably in love with Decrepit Birth, and for good reason. These guys have been progressing in leaps ever since their 2003 debut ...And Time Begins, releasing one of the genre's most influential records in 2008, the untouchable Diminishing Between Worlds.
Its 2010 follow-up, Polarity, sees the band stepping up their game even more, managing to create an amazing record that masterfully fuses together brutality and melody. The musicianship here is top-notch and the band displays a lot of progressive, melodic sensibility to go along with their death metal chops. The songwriting has also improved over its predecessor - while you can still characterize their songs as riff salads (albeit incredibly tasty ones), there's always a perceptible structure to them.
The guitars are the center-piece of this record, as Matt Sotelo and Dan Eggers craft lush, beautiful melodies of intertwining guitar leads and outer planetary solos, while Bill Robinson's harsh vocals and KC Howards' intense drumming provide a counterpoint to balance out the otherworldly beauty of the guitar parts. The entire album has a poignant cosmic feel, which is only fitting given that the lyrics are about infinite voids of space within the pockets of time, the micro-physics of subatomic relativity and gravitational singularity. Yeah, Bill Robinson does a lot of drugs. He's also homeless by choice.
Polarity might be my favorite Decrepit Birth record. Diminishing Between Worlds was great, but its follow-up is nothing short of a masterpiece. The amazing musicianship combined with the mindfucking lyrical content make for a fascinating listening experience which I will always cherish.
Seriously, if you don't like Decrepit Birth, what the hell?
You might think we don't listen to anything that doesn't have at least one guitar somewhere in there, but you'd be wrong. We also enjoy select hip-hop cuts from time to time, and Death Grips is a name uttered with respect and fear around here. Respect, because these guys have taken hip-hop to a whole new level. Fear, because that level involves jarring cyber/industrial beats, furious drum kit abuse and vocal delivery that would cause all of those so-called "gangstas" to scurry away and hide under their beds in terror should they dare hear it.
Their previous output, Ex-Military, has made a terrible impression on me and it even made it on Tzeeeac's 2011 best-of-the-year list. It took me a long time to shake off the disturbing imagery of the videos and MC Ride's barked caustic lyrics. To no avail, though, as Death Grips plan on putting out two albums this year. The first one is called The Money Store, is due April 24th and is adorned with that wonderfully horrific artwork you can see above. The band have already released two videos of tracks from the new album and a third one has sprung up today. The visuals are just as messed up as I expected and the music is the same brand of barbaric hip-hop I've come to know, love and obey. Good to see these guys are keeping it real.
I've never really payed much attention to Belgium's Aborted as they've always seemed to me like a low tier goregrind outfit. I've only listened to their 2003 record, Engineering the Dead, and I was less than impressed with it, as their music was forgettable at best. As a result, I've never bothered with any of their output, not even Goremaggedon: The Saw and the Carnage Done, which apparently was their best record, and I kinda forgot about them.
Despite all this, I couldn't help but notice the steady hype that seemed to build around their imminent 2012 release, called Global Flatline. People were getting excited left and right, as vocalist and frontman Svencho had gathered a new lineup and was promising a great album. After seeing the amazing cover art, I too began to feel a tingling of excitement. This could actually be worth listening to!
Now that I finally got a chance to listen to it, I have to give it to everyone else: you were right to be excited. Global Flatline is an absolute beast of a record, with incredibly catchy and heavy songs, built upon intense, crushing riffs that are beautifully complemented by a pounding rhythm section that instantaneously triggered my headbanging reflex. There's a lot of pure, honest-to-God, good old fashioned slamming going on, but the band isn't afraid to bring on the guns and let loose some soaring guitar solos that add a welcome melodic feel to the bloody carnage. The vocals are a big highlight here, as Svencho shouts, yells, grunts, growls and squeals his way through the fifteen tracks of the album, reveling in the typical goregrind subject matter of gore, guts, feces and horrific tortures that involve all three.
It might sound a bit too clean to goregrind purists who need muddy guitar tones and bass that's buried deep in the mix in order to enjoy themselves, but everyone else should get a real kick out of Global Flatline. It's fun, it's bloody, it's catchy and, best of all, it's hugely entertaining and has managed to put Aborted back on the map for me.
Bloody-Disgusting has premiered a kickass new video of Goatwhore's When Blood and Steel Meet off their excellent album Blood for the Master released earlier this year. For those of you not in the know, Goatwhore is a blackened death metal outfit featuring Acid Bath's ex-guitarist, Sammy Duet.
When Blood and Steel Meet is a pissed-off thrashy track with some great blackened grooves and the video showcases the band rocking out with their cocks out while subliminal shots of two almost naked chicks covered in blood and licking it off each other pop up every now and then, presumably to incite anyone who's watching into buying some hot women and blood.
In an unforeseen turn of events, it seems the self-proclaimed best band in the world are planning a triumphant return this spring. That's right, Tenacious D are going to come in our ear-pussies once again!
May 15th will see the release of The D's new album called Rize of the Fenix, the follow-up to their self-titled 2001 debut. There aren't many details about this except that it will feature 13 songs and Dave Grohl will resume drum kit duties. However, JB and KG have put out a six minute teaser video of the album (featuring cameo appearances by Val Kilmer and Dave Grohl) and have also made the title track off the new album available for streaming. If these two nuggets of gold are any indication, Rize of the Fenix should turn out to be an amazing fucking record and a great addition to the Tenacious D discography. I'm excited.
But hey, don't take my word for it - check out the video and song below and let us know what you think!
It always pisses me off when some band I really like doesn't have any official videos for their songs, so when I want to tell someone how awesome that band is, all I have to show for it is one of those lame Youtube videos that only feature the cover art of the album instead of, you know, the actual band performing the song.
Thankfully, German power metal priests Powerwolf have taken note of my silent plea and have released a new live video of them performing Sanctified with Dynamite, a brilliant song off their equally brilliant 2011 opus, Blood of the Saints. Great news, as I always enjoy their werewolf-centric brand of power metal. They seem like a pretty energetic live act, doing lots of theatrical poses and stuff. Pretty cool.
Technical death metal often gets criticized as sterile, soulless wankery and I can certainly see where some of these detractors are coming from, but after listening to Gorod's latest effort, A Perfect Absolution, I can safely claim that they are above such criticism. In fact, these French bros have grown into a force to be reckoned with.
What makes Gorod stand out in the sea of tech death bands is their ability to create superbly intricate, atmospheric music that's both heavy and beautiful. The first song on the album, Birds of Sulphur, features a brief, eerie introduction punctuated by an unnerving, dissonant orchestral layer, then dives straight into insanely fast and brutal riffing. It's a massive aural assault, with the two guitarists often engaging in extended, intertwining lead duels that are just spectacular to hear, while the bass carries the song's heaviness with its thick, warm, independent lines and the drummer puts the beating on his kit. The vocals gave me a bit of a scare at first, since the very first words are delivered in an over-processed, Behemoth-like voice, but thankfully the vocalist settles into a more composed growl interspersed with a few high-pitched shrieks.
The first half of the album seems to focus more on outright brutality - don't get me wrong, though, there are plenty of awesome melodic guitar solos - but the second half of A Perfect Absolution is where things really get interesting. The band starts mixing it up and adds a lot of jazz and progressive elements to their music, so all of the sudden you're faced with unpredictable rhythm changes, warm guitar interludes, lightning-fast shredding, dual vocal attacks, intense grooves, outer-space solos and even spoken word bits. All of these elements are masterfully combined like a giant puzzle, making for an extremely engaging and fascinating listen, as the songs move effortlessly from frantic whirlwinds of technical riffing to quieter moments that give you a chance to catch your breath.
Of course, such a complex album requires multiple listens to take it all in, but, after listening to it pretty much every day for the last week, all I can say is that A Perfect Absolution is a fantastic record. It might even be the best Gorod album to date. Tight musicianship, great vocals, brilliant songwriting - you can't go wrong with this one.
PS: There are also two awesome guest appearances on this album, namely Michael Keene of The Faceless who plays the second guitar solo on The Axe of God and Christian Muenzner of Obscura/Spawn of Possession fame who plays the entire solo on Carved in the Wind. Just thought you should know.
Pictured above: the grimmest Boeing 737 to ever roam the dark , frozen Norwegian nekkroskye.
Norwegian black metal is more closely associated with murder and burning churches than with low-cost air travel, but that might be about to change. The late Øystein Aarseth, aka Euronymous – the guitarist of Mayhem, who was murdered by his fellow black metaller Varg Vikernes in August 1993 – may soon be the image painted on the tailfins of Norwegian jets. The proposal is part of a contest by Norwegian, a low-cost airline that flies Boeing 737s across Scandinavia and into the UK. To celebrate its 10th anniversary, the carrier is asking passengers to vote on a new set of heroes for their aircraft's tailfins. There are four separate sweepstakes, for planes in Oslo, Bergen, Trondheim and Stavanger, and the nominees include everyone from beauty queen Julie Ege to footballer Knut Torbjørn Eggen. Visitors to the website can even nominate their own "tail heroes".
In Oslo, Aarseth is winning. After being put forward by a local nominating committee, the Mayhem founder has collected the highest share of votes, leading over Trond André Bolle, a soldier who died in 2010, and the Lutheran reformist Hans Nielsen Hauge. Metal fans have rallied behind him, acting on a rare chance to get the musician's silhouette on a multi-million pound flying machine.
I never cared much for Euronymous (or Mayhem, for that matter), but this would be great. Maybe a competing airline could spray paint Varg Vikernes on their airplane's tailfins to really convey a sense of cutthroat, economic dog-eat-dog rivalry.
So German tech death masters Obscura have recently released a compilation called Illegimitation that features a bunch of their older material and, more interestingly, three covers: Flesh and the Power It Holds by Death, Atheist's Piece of Time and one of Cynic's most well known songs, How Could I off their breakthrough record Focus. Obviously, being the flamboyant Cynic fanboy that I am, I got wildly excited at the prospect of Obscura performing How Could I.
Turns out my nipples were right to become erect, as Obscura have totally nailed the song, keeping true to the original yet adding their own personal vibe to their performance. It's a perfect cover of an already awesome song. What more can I say? Check it out below.
This is what happens when you don't get your writing done in the morning. You get swamped by a whole bunch of stuff that also needs doing and before you know it, you need to go out and you still haven't managed to contribute anything today to keep the blog momentum going. And then you end up with half-assed posts like this one. Meh.
Anyway, I'm guessing a lot of people have heard the new Cannibal Corpse record and, while it's not exactly mindblowing or redefining any genres, it's a totally solid slab of no-bullshit death metal that sees Corpsegrinder and the gang hammering away in the style that defined and continues to define them. I won't start making comparisons between Torture and their earlier works because, frankly, I'm not a die-hard Cannibal Corpse fan and I don't care enough about their lenghty output, but suffice it to say that their new record is getting quite a bunch of spins on my iPod.
What I really appreciated, though, was how they made a video for a song off Torture called Encased in Concrete and the video is about a guy getting encased in concrete. I love it when a band manages to be this honest to its fans and deliver exactly what they say on the box. Enjoy this great, epilepsy-inducing video below while I get ready to go stuff my face with delicious barbecue and knock back a couple of beers. That beer gut isn't gonna grow itself.
However hipsterish and delicate my taste in music might seem, from time to time, I just love to whore myself to the satanical rythms of death or black metal. I don’t know why, really. Maybe, on a subconscious level, I want to get into .chester’s bed.
Because I don’t want to overshadow my friend .chester in his own area of interest, I won’t write about a death or black metal band, but about a band as equally ballsy called Amplifier. With a sound that draws as much from post-rock’s modernity as it does from the old-school wacca wacca grooves of the beloved space rock, I’m proud to announce that they have been awarded by the Hipster’s Telegraph with Hipster’s First Choice Band Wheen Feeling Horny. The Manchester-based three piece group of outlaws have released in their 14 years of existence a total of three records, their latest one, The Octopus, being the most critically acclaimed of the bunch.
And it’s no wonder why. The Octopus is a 120 minute long bash-a-thon, in which ‘’the man’’ is systematically fucked in a cunningly subtle manner, lyrically speaking. Wall Street, greedy corporations, colonialism, the media,the fucking annual Oscar Awards, homelessness, racial discrimination, consumerism, war, poverty and many, many other wacky shenanigans are discussed and criticized. But what gave me a gigantic fuck-the-system boner were not the subjects per se, but the way they are handled and put into perspective. Away with the ridiculously over the top socialist-oriented political views of Rage Against of the Machine and the useless noise that comes with it. Amplifier is here to offer us the stuff that only our wet rebellious dreams were made of: something with substance and an actual message. And you don’t even have to wear a Che Guevara t-shirt to fully enjoy it.
Without getting too cocky or exaggerating its merits, The Octopus creates an atmosphere that, academically put, crushes your fucking skull and then feeds some random demonic minions with the pieces of brain that escaped the horrible process of being pulverized in mid air by the album’s sonic laser of sheer awesomeness. Whenever I play this record I instantaneously get mental images of gargantuan buildings, oppressive, shadowey ruling figures, dystopian polluted city-scapes and filthy streets roamed by midget Lady Gagas, and that’s really just putting it lightly. Songs like Fall Of the Empire, Trading Dark Matter On The Stock Exchange and Planet Of Insects are some brilliant examples of dystopian crazyness. They made me picture a nightmarish scenario in which the world would be taken over by some oppressive totalitarian super-power, making the process of writing dick-jokes on Tzeeac not only difficult, but utterly impossible. Uuuuh, fuck me with a pitchfork.
Sound-wise, it’s a really powerful and noisy album, but very well paced and structured. It’s the kind of loud album that is like that because there’s a REASON for it, and not just for the sake of it. The Octopus comes with mesmerizing guitar solos, barbaric drumming and intricate bass lines. I’m not an expert in post/space rock or in anything else, to be fair, but I have to say that this is probably the most complex and mind-fucking albums I had ever had the chance to listen to. And that’s coming from the guy that spent an entire month trying to write about Justin Bieber’s latest record, but couldn’t find the necessary intelectual resources to do so.
Now stop expecting for a conclusive ending paragraph and go play the fucking record.
The Faceless seems to be one of those bands that's built around a hideously technical machine-freak of a guitarist, namely Michael Keene, with the rest of the members trying their best to keep up with him. Maybe that's not the case, maybe they have a totally mutual, equal relationship within the band, with everyone contributing the same - I dunno, I don't really care, I guess.
Planetary Duality is their sophomore effort and sees them trying to get rid of the deathcore elements prevalent in their previous record, Akeldama, and basically trying to get in with the tech death crowd. I'm a little torn when it comes to this second album, actually. While I do agree with the people complaining that it sounds really clinical and sterile, I've also listened to it a bunch of times and it never fails to entertain me. Most of the songs on Planetary Duality can be accurately described as sonic hurricanes, in that there's so much going on all the time that it's hard focusing on anything in particular.
Michael Keene is an absolute beast, delivering staggeringly intricate guitar lines, playing a million notes per second and churning out tons of sweeping arpeggios, while also delivering some pretty great spacey solos and warm, clean interludes. The rhythm section is also complex, as you may imagine: the drummer blasts his way through an unimaginable amount of highly technical drum fills and rhythm changes, while the bassist is clearly some dude who likes jazz and is there just to provide a low-end backdrop that's on par with the rest of the instrumental section. The vocals are pretty standard growls that don't exhibit much range yet are completely suitable to the music, managing to successfully deliver the menacing message of impeding planetary collisions and human genocide inflicted by marauding technically-advanced aliens. Or whatever. There's also a few moments of awkward vocoder vocals and, while I appreciate this subtle nod to Cynic, they don't have that otherworldly, ethereal sheen we've enjoyed on Focus and Traced in Air, instead sounding murky and barely intelligible.
I actually set out to give Planetary Duality a rave gushing review, but I guess I've come to realize that it's not really as amazing as I thought. I think my main problem with it is that there's barely any feeling to the music - instead, it sounds like I'm expected to just gawk at the guitarist and pick my jaw off the floor in response to his freakish abilities. Yes, Michael Keene is a total monster and I couldn't come up with a millionth of the shit he pulls of even if I had ten arms, but I would have liked to hear more than ultratechnical, Skynet-approved riffing. Sometimes it's really hard making sense of all this madness.
Still, it's not bad at all and, like I've said, I enjoyed listening to it. The Faceless are working on a new album that's supposedly up for release this year, so I'm definitely excited to hear it. To cap things of, a sub-par live video of them performing a song off Planetary Duality. Check out Michael Keene and his octopus fingers.
I found out I can rely on Italy's Illogicist. Whether it's their latest opus, The Unconsciousness of Living, or their previous effort, The Insight Eye, it seems that I can always count on them to deliver totally decent and entertaining technical death death, even if it's a bit generic and forgettable. Sure, their music isn't overly complex, there are no crazy strong structures nor billions of sweep-picked notes every second and they don't tackle profound matters like astrophysics and molecular genetics in their lyrics, but they are getting better and better with each new release and they might soon become a tech death force to be reckoned with.
And yes, I am becoming a total tech death nerd these days, so expect more posts about bands that claim to be "jazzy" and "progressive" and sing about asteroids, worm holes, quantum physics and solar flares.
Occultist are a young, female-fronted band from Richmond, VA and Hell By Our Hands is, as far as I can gather, their first EP. Despite being quite short, featuring only four tracks that clock in at just under 12 minutes, Occultist show much promise, bringing forth some well executed vitriolic crust/thrash violence with plenty of d-beat drumming, filthy riffing and angar screaming, courtesy of female vocalist K.Z.
Nothing like starting off the day with some pissed-off, raw, blackened crust punk and a sticky, gooey, delicious cherry strudel.
It's Sunday again and I'm already starting to feel like a piece of shit because it's beautiful outside and I'm sitting in front of my computer like a basement dweller because I have no friends. I also can't be bothered to come up with any sort of meaningful content today, so I'll just shoot the biggest fish in the barrel and post a bunch of Ace of Spades covers I enjoy. Fuck all.
First, let's enjoy good old Uncle Tom and his boys rip through this classic tune.
Bathory also did a well-known cover of Ace of Spades, turning into a longer, epic song with a viking vibe and men choirs and other sweet stuff.
This next Ace of Spades cover is by American heavy/speed metal band Abattoire, off their 1985 album Vicious Attack.
Mayhem (the American speed metal band, not the Norwegian black metal band) also did a cool cover on their 1986 Burned Alive LP.
The San Diego hardcore punk band Battalion of Saints also covered the song on their 1984 LP The Second Coming.
Spanish grind freaks Machetazo also covered this song on their 2002 album, Trono de Huesos. Mucho br00tal!
This is my favourite Ace of Spades cover, courtesy of another great Spanish deathgrind outfit, Avulsed. There's nothing like hearing the classic lyrics being sung in sickening gurgles and pig squeals. You can check it on their 2005 effort, Gorespattered Suicide, but I'm going to leave you with a great live performance of their cover.
And last but not least, there's Hayseed Dixie's cover.
Have I missed any other cool Ace of Spades covers?
I don't really know what to say about Count Nosferatu Kommado (they're actually called The Cosa Nostra Klub now, but Count Nosferatu Kommando sounds so much better) except that they're French, they play a weird hybridized electronic/symphonic/industrial/black metal kinda thing with machine gun drumming and lots of yelling and that this song might be the dumbest thing ever written, but goddamn it, I love it.
I'm sure all you br00tal bros who are way intoCannibal Corpse, Suffocation, Deeds of Flesh and the like already know about this band, but it's not like I have anything better to do than write dumb shit on this blog, so it's fine.
Don't let the shitty cover art fool you, Severe Torture aren't some lame melodic wankery band, but a solid, tough-as-nails brutal death metal outfit from the Netherlands. There aren't any surprises to be found on their 2005 effort, Fall of the Despised - only tight, flawlessly executed, gore-drenched death metal much in the vein of the bands mentioned above. Pummeling, precise riffing, lots of drum kit abuse, standard death metal growling, songs about necrophagy, mutilation, hacking off limbs and even some good old Jesus Christ hating, thrown in for good measure - pretty standard fare, as you may gather, but extremely enjoyable nonetheless.
I've never really payed much attention to Benighted, but their latest offering has managed to take me by surprise and pummel me into a bloody mess. It seems that they set out to mix as many elements from various metal subgenres as possible and the result is, well... fantastic.
One listen of any song on Asylum Cave and you'll be assaulted by a flurry of intense grinding, slamming and stomping, relentless, energetic drumming, groove-laden riffs and even some melodic death metal, all of these seamlessly molding together to create a metal hotpot of intense flavor (great, now I'm sort of hungry). The vocalist is similarly chaotic - he spews forth guttural growls, high-pitched shrieks and disgusting pig squeals with equal ease, mixing and matching and often overlapping these various vocal styles to great effect.
Using too many different elements bears the risk of ending up with a random, unintelligible mess, but Benighted seem to have become masters of this trade, being able to take the best out of both all worlds, mix it all together and in the end come up with something that's at once enthralling and entertaining, catchy and heavy, brutal, yet strangely groovy. Sure, it won't be everybody's cup of tea - the BREE-REEEEEEEEs alone are aggravating enough to warrant shutting down the record altogether - and metal purists will shun this, deeming it a worthless hodge-podge, but if you're anything like me - that is, willing to turn a blind eye to a few innocent faux pas - you'll surely find something to enjoy in Asylum Cave.
I'm sure everyone's familiar with Washington D.C.'s Magrudergrind so there's not much point in beating this horse, so I'll just keep it short and sweet. Their self-titled 2009 release is a truly vicious assault of blistering hot'n'heavy guitar riffs, tight drumming that switches from groovy to full-on ultrablasting without losing any energy and some of the best and most insane high-pitched shrieks I've ever heard, making for an amazing record that blew me away when I first listened to it.
They're easily one of my favourite grindcore/powerviolence acts and it bummed the hell out of me when their upcoming show alongside gore masters Exhumed in my butt-fuck-nowhere of a country got cancelled because the show only sold two tickets.
As some of you may now, technical death metallers Fallujah were recently involved in a car accident that destroyed a whole lot of their gear, along with their van and trailer. They're okay though, thankfully. Here's what they had to say about the accident:
“So for those of you who have not yet seen the facebook posts, last night on I-80 in Wyoming we got caught in a storm and hit a patch of black ice. Even though the van was only traveling at 30 miles an hour it didn’t stop us from spinning out. Everyone is okay luckily but our van and trailer are completely destroyed. This will ultimately force us to drop the remaining dates with Hate Eternal and Goatwhore.Right now our current issue is getting whats left back home, somehow salvaging some money from the wrecked van and trailer whether for parts or metal, and then finally getting on track with a new van/trailer. Though we are very hesitant to ask for any kind of hand out or sympathy, we are going to be in the hole majorly after this so if you are willing to pick up some merch or donate some money it would be much appreciated.”
Since this announcement, though, they've set up a Kickstarter fundraiser, where basically anyone can chip in and donate some cash until their goal is reached. Fallujah have set out to raise $2500 over the next two months, money which will be spent on a new tour van. They're also offering some pretty cool rewards including signed posters and CDs, so if you enjoy their awesome spacey, science-y tech death, head on over to their Kickstarter page and help them get back on the road. Ghoul have also had a van fundraising which turned out great, ending up with more than $1000 more than they had anticipated. I assume they used the extra cash to spray paint zombies on their new van.
The point is, this is definitely achievable, so do a good deed and help some bros in need.
Let's face it, Sunday evenings suck. Usually I feel pretty good on Sunday, enjoying the benefits of a free day, but come 6 PM or so and a huge wave of depression comes crashing over me, turning me into a worthless, irritable asshole who doesn't feel like doing anything and complains about it, much to the despair of whoever I happen to grace with my restless bitching. I have come to terms with the awful mood that takes over me every Sunday evening and I don't even try doing anything to rise my spirits anymore. I just wallow in self-pity, F5-ing until it gets late enough for me to go to bed without feeling like an old retired man, which means about 10 PM.
I don't really know where I'm going with this, but this whole week I've been listening to Russian slam death purveyors Katalepsy and enjoying the fuck out of their music. Triumph of Evilution is a nice little EP composed of a bunch of songs that were featured on an earlier split with some other bands or whatever. These guys may be vodka-chugging Russians, but they are well versed in the ways of American-style brutal death metal, delivering fast'n'heavy slamz backed by a drummer who's blasting his way all across the kit. The vocalist doesn't just stick to the well known guttural vocals, but instead mixes them up with raspier, almost metalcore-ish barks and also some flawlessly executed pig squeals laid out in groovy patterns that always seem to hit my sweet spot. There's a bunch of movie samples thrown in for good measure, too, from the Resident Evil and Saw movies, which I thought was quite nice. All in all, Katalepsy are well worth your time. If slam death is what rocks your boat, you can't go wrong with this great little EP.
You know what's not great at all, though? Fucking Sunday evenings.
Oh, forgot about something. You know that awkward moment when you eventually get tired of a brilliant, longly-expected album? Yeah, it sucks.
Arctic Monkeys understands our First World problems and, from time to time, they release right from the Out of Fucking Nowhere Land a stand alone single.
What can I say, I fancy this even more than all the tunes from Suck It And See put together. This, I might add, sucks even more.
Just woke up with a GARGANTUAN hangover, after a night of drinking and goofing around with .chester and amigos. How else to mark the moment but with...
... Jack White's single from his upcoming album, Blunderbuss (weird fucking name, by the way). This is the first time I'm seeing what a good idea was White Stripes breaking up; now we got a independent, more creative than ever Jack White to express himself and write the songs that we love.
One thing that I kept dreaming about when I was a kid, besides acting on Broadway or digging a hole all the way to Turkmenistan, was being a spy. Man, how I loved my James Bond movies. Shit, they have all the gear: mistery, charm, elegance, hot women, drinking, smoking and a sheer amount of nonchalant coolness that comes only with Sean Connery’s dry accent.
But hey, says somebody from the back of the auditorium, how about writing about some fucking music? I’m sick of your overly long bullshit introductions. How is James Bond relevant to your article? Well, how about this: take all the cool stuff from the movies, mix them gently with ‘60’s themes and influences and the result is The Age Of The Understatement by The Last Shadow Puppets. For this album to come to life, Alex Turner from Arctic Monkeys and Miles Kane from a bunch of defunct, unfortunately unpopular bands joined forces, stimulated by an enthusiastic producer named James Ford( who also plays drums on this album). How could anything wrong come out of this?
Not only does this album have all the cool stuff mentioned above, but it delivers it in a way that it sticks to you for a very long period of time. The atmosphere is very well created and you get immediately sucked in it’s ‘60’s grandeour and mistery. The themes are a bit clichéd, but given the period the album is supposed to represent they could easily be enjoyed. They range from love, nostalgia, resentment to full on hatred, joined by bittersweet and cynical monologues. In spite of being cocky and cheesy in parts, the album doesn’t lack depth, thanks to Alex Turner’s lyrical abilities; he delivers his surreal and tongue-twisting lyrics with ability, often changing the tone of his voice several times during a song.
Instrumentally-wise, it’s simple and to the point: classic guitars, drums, bass, and a violion here and there. The sound is deliciously old-school, with a few modern touches added so that you won’t find yourself buying the album next to your great-grandma. One thing that blew my mind was James Ford’s drumming abilities : fuck me with a broom if I had ever expected James Ford to be such a brilliant drummer. Why aren’t you in a famous band, James? Do you really like being a producer so much that you’re willing to kick away a life of booze, women and fame? Wake the fuck up, man.
No matter how much I like this album, it’s far from being original. I know this might not be a fair thing to say, being a 60’s tribute album and all, but I feel that they could’ve taken it much more farther, touching higher areas instead of limiting themselves to being just another tribute band.
To conclude, The Age Of The Understatement is a well paced, atmospheric ‘60’s carousel you hardly forget. As for the jerk sitting in the back, go fuck a cactus or something.
I, like many law-abiding members of society, hate change. And I’m not talking about changing the goverment or electing the president, I don’t give a flying racoon’s fuck about that. I’m talking about serious shit like having to swap to another fast-food because you saw that hot employee sniffing cocaine with your straw or having to switch to another beer brand because you don’t like the new label.
But one change I didn’t hate is the sudden emancipation of our retarded music publication, Tzeeeac. I’m sorry for you, fellow Romanians, but you’ll just have to learn English. But for our English speaking folk, get ready for the brand new, nasty and surreal jokes that this wonderful language make possible with its ridiculous complexity. Tzeeeac on.
I can think of no better way to kickstart the semi-new incarnation of Tzeeeac than with more disgusting, slamming, ultraguttural brutal death metal, so behold!, San Diego, California's own Condemned. Sharing Cephalotripsy's drummer and vocalist, Condemned don't stray much from the classic formula, churning out some heavy, if uncreative, riffage with plenty of hyperblasting to go along and, of course, Angel Ochoa's vocals, which are totally fitting for the genre - completely unintelligible, guttural as fuck and laid out in pretty creative patterns so they blend nicely with the simplistic chugging.
Not much more to say, except if you enjoy the musical stylings of Cephalotripsy, Devourment or Disgorge, Condemned will be right up your alley. MOSH.
Well, fuck. Se pare că asta este seara în care Molesting the Decapitated, albumul de debut al americanilor de la Devourment, m-a captivat. It finally clicked, gen. Presupun că a fost nevoie de combinaţia de foame, sete, extenuare şi plictiseală extremă ca să înţeleg în sfârşit care-i şpârla cu albumul ăsta, dar m-am prins. Cufundat în pagini întregi de Microsoft Word, cu ochii injectaţi şi mizeria asta în căşti, am reuşit în sfârşit să apreciez nesfârşitele slam-uri primitive, emise probabil dintr-o chitară cu maxim cinci freturi, furtunile de hyperblast-uri şi vocea nesimţit de guturală a lui Ruben Rojas, care sună ca şi cum ar cânta fix din colon.
Îndrăznesc chiar să spun că am simţit şi un pic de groove în unele locuri. Sau poate am adormit un piculeţ cu capul pe tastatură şi când m-am trezit am vărsat un pahar cu apă pe masă. Whatever.
From Vancouver, this band is a bunch of sweet bros. - last.fm
Pentru mine, descrierea asta de pe pagina lor de last.fm a fost de-ajuns ca să mă convingă să-i ascult.
Asta, şi capetele rase, pantalonii scurţi, tatuajele, wigger slamming-ul, hyperblast-urile şi basistul ciudat şi stingher, cu păr lung şi mult prea multe corzi la bass. Dacă vă place s-o ardeţi cu d-alde Spawn of Possesion, Necrophagist, Origin sau Beyond Creation, băgaţi şi Archspire pe lista cu brutal death de ascultat în metrou.
S-a cam terminat şmekeria cu albumul ăsta. Californienii de la Cephalotripsy sunt una dintre cele mai cunoscute trupe de slam death din lume şi da, este un subgen retardat şi nu ştiu cât de mândri ar trebui să fie că sunt în fruntea unui asemenea pluton, dar adevărul este că au dus formula slam death aproape de perfecţiune.
Să le luăm pe rând. Coperta? Un clusterfuck total şi vomitiv de maţe, sânge, fetuşi morţi, răni purulente, burghie şi alte răhăţele din aceeaşi gamă. Vocile? Sunete abominabile, inhalate, ultraguturale, complet neinteligibile, tip "BREE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EE-EEEEEEEE", asezonate cu câte-un pig squeal ici-colo, să nu ni se aplece. Chitara? E acordată în Drop B, are un ton cataclismic, gros, vârtos, vâscos, cotu'-şi-pişcotu', o sulă laie şi balşoaie, iar riff-urile sunt atât de mindless şi slamtastice şi se târăsc spre tine în nişte asemenea paşi de "dans" încât te imploră, practic, să dai shut down la creier şi să te laşi în voia lor. Bassul? Ia bhă ciocanu', Cephalotripsy nu folosesc aşa ceva. Tobele? Blast beats şi pulverizare totală. Versurile? Păi, să vedem un sample, extras din şlagărul de real succes Excavation of Encystation:
Encroaching upon bloated encrustation
Encrusted, the encystation of impurity
An excavation of excruciating torment
Excavating every morsel of malignant pieces.
Splitting, cracking, leaking and seeping
The inflated slabs of meat begin secreting
Heaps of rotting defiled corpses amound
Excreting and dripping, I begin ripping
Heads from torsos
Limbs from sockets
And extracting the innards
From abdomens.
Cephalotripsy se bălăcesc, deci, fără nicio ruşine, în bazinul septic al slam death-ului primitiv şi fix de-asta îmi place de ei. Uterovaginal Insertion of Extirpated Anomalies este unul din acele albume care nu numai că nu face niciun efort să evite stereotipurile, ci le îmbrăţişează lacom, devenind un album excesiv şi foarte indulgent cu el însuşi, ca un grăsan morbid care se scaldă fericit într-o piscină plină cu îngheţată şi hamburgeri.
Şi la fel mă simt şi eu când ascult asemenea mizerii absolute. Împăcat cu mine însumi, cu Universul, cu Bog şi ceata lui de îngeri şi cu slam-ul, acum şi pururea şi-n vecii vecilor, BREE!
