This almost seems like a throw-back, back-to-the-basics album for the Deftones. “White Diamonds” features druggy and sludgy guitar tones that shred with stoner rock ferocity amid Chino Moreno’s trademark out-of-this-world lyrical content delivered via screechy screams, fast spitting almost-raps, and softly sung spoken words. Still as atmospheric as their past releases, each tune seems to build off of one another delivering a true ‘album’ feel that the iTunes geeks won’t understand unless their playlist is the entire album beginning to end. Love the low-end bass tone on this album too; which is a great nod towards Chi who suffered a debilitating brain injury who sadly was absent but everyone is pulling for him to have a full recovery. I almost think that losing one of their brethren for this long-standing band is what helped craft such a fun, enlightening, and engaging album. “Rocket Skates” sounds like it was just lifted from a b-side from “Around the Fur” with its chunky guitar riffs that are perfectly fit for Mastodon fans. “White Diamonds” is at once dreamy and steamy with sultry vocals whispered and crooned by Chino and then counters all of that with caustic screams and yelps of dismay amid churning guitar distortion, weird sample atmospherics from their turntablist, and crisp rhythms and crashing cymbals. It’s not what I was prepared to hear from one of my favorite bands who I thought were on an unfortunate downswing and yet again proved me wrong. Love it.
Karnivool is Australian for Tool. Yeah ok that was an easy pun but “Sound Awake” is an exact replica minus some of the narrative and talent of Tool – hell they even go by a nickname of “Vool”. Don’t get me wrong, they’re extremely talented but their sound is so cookie-cutter of Tool that it’s almost laughable. Their singer is great and their guitars deploy more melodies than their darker idols but the undercutting bass and percussion are very similar as are their song structures (and song lengths), textures, and bleak atmospherics. Regardless people will soak this up…
Okay so I admit this review is well over due. But just because I’ve been slacking off, doesn’t deride any of the importance of how truly epic and essential Converge’s seventh record release is. Jacob Bannon (singer) and Kurt Ballou (guitarist) are two of the most influential people in metal/hardcore/heavy music today, with Kurt Ballou having established himself as one of music’s most revered producers/engineers with his God City Studio a well-sought after destination. Ballou’s resume in the production, recording, and engineering realm is as impressive as his own musical one with a long resume that includes The Hope Conspiracy, pg. 99, Cave In, Modern Life is War, Blacklisted, Champion, Scars of Tomorrow, Orchid, and Paint it Black among many others. Indeed the group as a whole is a visceral auteur of heavy music, paving the way for many other experimental and chaotic bands to land into a scene that is welcoming, always moving, and rarely if ever stagnant. On “Axe to Fall”, Converge yet again expands their horizons with wavering and sober moments like “Cruel Bloom” featuring bluesy gravelly vocals sung by Steve Von Till (Neurosis) amid moist piano and ambient acoustic guitars. “Wretched Bloom” also features a guest vocalist in Genghis Tron’s Mookie Singerman who smoothly pours out a velvet of clean vocals that oddly complement the typical raging storm of Bannon’s ferocity. The album pours out buckets of emotion into a room that was once soaked with blood but is now drying, peeling off red-flecked paint chips like a million past childhoods wrought with self-destructive actions, something a song like the punk-fueled “Cutter” seems to cry out on. Converge are champions of everything heavy and prove their worthiness of the crown by dipping their quill into an inkwell of heavy rock, visceral chaotic metal, churning hardcore, and melodic heavy alternative art. “Axe to Fall” will fell an entire forest before it’s through rockin’ you out.
As if co-founding Manowar wasn’t enough to put pen to paper on a budding musician’s resume, Ross the Boss has now perfected the art of the solo album – though don’t go telling him that. Despite the self-titled band moniker, Ross assures all that this is indeed a full-fledged band outfit. “New Metal Leader” conjures forth the same naughty fist-pumping anthems of metal that Manowar was made famous with such crucial albums as “Battle Hymns” and “Kings of Metal”. Ross the Boss punctuates his glorious choruses with punchy guitar licks that are bound to enable even the most lackadaisical metal maven into a maniacal frenzy. The Metal McCain would shout to the heavens, “Horns held high on this one, friends!”
Album opener “When Sun Comes Out” is an awesome dance-oriented rock song that blows your mind with phat bass lines and a kick drum that blasts through walls like the Kool-Aid Man. Stomping rhythms and dynamic melodies coalesce into a twisted new form of pop music that is fit for kings and ladies. Complex song arrangements and infinite sound spectrums numb your ears while the sick rhythms that only someone from Austria could build together mash your guts inside out. Humorous lyrics, crunchy distortion, and industrialized beats aren’t the only attraction with Bulbul, they blend their own uniquely weird take on electronica, hard rock, indie art-rock, and bass-oriented thick melodies for something just outside of the Jesus Lizard and Mr. Bungle. Damn good combustible rock that is impossible to put into any subcategory–unless that subcategory is ‘awesome’.
A one-man show of old-school black metal and doom, Hellveto likes to play with odd atmospheres and build upon that ambience for something truly bruising. The guitars can range from lo-fi garage noise to something right out of a 40-man orchestra. An odd combo but one that seems to work for Hellveto pretty damn well. While “Neoheresy” is nowhere near as menacing as the album title might suggest, it does strike a nerve. I would appreciate it if more blackened metal folks would focus more on the melodic side of death and gloom than always striking for the juggular with rough distortion, screaming wails and shrieks, and grinding blast beats.
Thrash metal that is unafraid of daring to do things a little outside of the Swedish metal mold. Slightly growling vocals that kill throats and remind one of near Slayer awesome. Fast and pounding drums anthem their way into your brain causing ecstasy and headbanging. These are some mean looking fucks too on their cover art. I highly doubt any one in Guillotine would be afraid to be the executioner and purveyor of the bloody guillotine. Let the heads roll I could hear them say. But also “Blood Money” isn’t a bunch of mindless blatthering about how tough the band is, how much gore they can shove into their lyrics, or how anti-society they are. Thankfully they attack the politics of the U.S. and the ridiculous amount of money that corporations and politicians push around to one another. Guillotine refuses to sit around amid this circle jerk of influence and peddling without raising their voice. And that voice is a welcome one.
Reunions are often poo-pooped because of their high school conotations. Well Cynic’s reunion damn well is welcome, needed, and an absolute must-have. These impressive progressive metal juggernauts unleash a storm of flashy prog-metal that dominates with large guitars and even bigger drumming. All the while their vocalist stomps the vocoder pedal hard and never unleashes except for a few dozen growl belches. Niiice.
Ask yourself what happened to the honey bees, and inevitably Beehoover will never enter the conversation. But ask yourself who is doing the best job of creating the next generation’s Black Sabbath and they most certainly would enter the Top Ten List. Crunchy guitars noise their way past over-amped speakers that are cracked with so much distortion it would make the Pope an athesist. “Pain Power” and “Iron Horse” are perhaps the most enigmatic songs with their intriguing 8-bit videogames and like-minded keyboard-esque sound effects. If you like less gloom in your doom, then crash with this duo of progressive-minded underground rock stars. Guaranteed to please the distortion pedal worshipper.
Toronto’s own Nadja blitzkriegs the metal community with their brand of punishing fuzzy experimental metal opuses. Loud and crunchy bass lines up next to starlet guitar fuzz distorted into a dank underbelly of stench and rot yet still retaining that blissful state that only My Bloody Valentine could retain with such heavy distortion. Dreamy sludge metal drips from the vacant eyesockets of a skull lit by internal candles and a dizzying array of psychedelics. Imagine what would happen if your favorite sludge metal mavens got together, took a lot of bong hits laced with crystal meth and played metal until the electric company cut the power. All of this with the power of a drum machine that brings back memories of past Godflesh accomplishments. Dazzyling.
