84 Boris - Asia 181 Points, 6 Voteshttp://i.imgur.com/6drU3SK.jpg
Cant find any reviews worth posting here but It was a return to their earlier noisy drone sludge 3 long tracks.
Remember when the indie hipters liked them? what happened to those hipsters?
― Cosmic Slop, Sunday, 13 December 2015 22:21 (eight years ago) link
This sounds like the kind of Biris album I'd like, Idk when but I def want to check it out
― Drugs A. Money, Sunday, 13 December 2015 22:28 (eight years ago) link
They're still at the shows. Boris just releases so much stuff, maybe people are taking them for granted?
― Fastnbulbous, Sunday, 13 December 2015 22:30 (eight years ago) link
83 Lamb of God - VII: Sturm und Drang 188 Points, 5 Voteshttp://i.imgur.com/JtadCan.jpg
https://open.spotify.com/album/3pQ2XxhYioiwNeKw89GdVVspotify:album:3pQ2XxhYioiwNeKw89GdVV
http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/20714-vii-sturm-und-drang/
Lamb of GodVII: Sturm und DrangEpic / Nuclear Blast; 2015By Grayson Haver Currin; July 27, 2015 7.8
We do not live in a golden age of major-label heavy metal. Gone are the days when many of the worldwide form’s biggest innovators earned large budgets from still-larger companies or bidding wars occurred for the most brutal new prospect. Though there are exceptions, most modern metal backed by largesse aims so squarely for genre rigidity and predictability that it’s hard to believe it requires humans to make. It’s as though the stuff comes from a factory in some anonymous and once-economically depressed flyover town, conveniently produced in five-band package tours that are almost impossible to distinguish but easy to absorb. Meanwhile, the new metal records that seem destined to matter as masterpieces, like Tribulation’s recent Children of the Night, arrive largely from the indie fringes. After three decades under Rick Rubin’s aegis, even the mighty Slayer have decamped to an indie for the forthcoming Repentless.During the past decade, Lamb of God have struggled with such a fate. Since signing to Epic Records for their third album, 2004’s Ashes of the Wake, they’ve often seemed a rather regimented metal band. Every two or three years, they would churn out another 10 or so songs, with big grooves and death metal outbursts decorated by lots and lots of guitars. Randy Blythe was a rampaging frontman, the kind who encouraged that you get loud with his tirades. But Lamb of God always teased the edges of their sound, trying to push beyond their meat-and-potatoes metal reputation with each release. It’s as if they felt guilty about their well-heeled position on Epic and tried to use it to gradually inch away from stylistic and financial safety, somehow back toward the fringes. By the time they issued 2012’s Resolution, such distractions had wantonly diluted their strengths, resulting in an abysmal record of mediocre hooks and banal studio gimmicks.Despite the highfaluting combination of Roman numerals and German words it takes as a title, Lamb of God’s very good seventh album, VII: Sturm und Drang, is a satisfactorily settled record, arguably their first such effort in a decade. Sturm und Drang takes decidedly few chances. Instead, it sticks mostly to up-tempo numbers, countered only by a clean-singing ballad that soon enough heads for the pit and a righteous stomper that eventually sublimates into something like shoegaze with the help of Deftone Chino Moreno. All of these songs are studded with enormous refrains and driven by a sense of urgency that Lamb of God have forsaken in recent years. When Blythe’s distended scream rips across howling amplifiers at the start of "Still Echoes", or when "Delusion Pandemic" snaps right into a belligerent stomp, it’s as if they’ve finally got too much to say to fuck around with being fancy. By not trying to be overly interesting or involved, Lamb of God have made one of their most alluring albums in years.The newfound energy and efficiency seem to stem, in part, from between-album trauma: In 2012, months after the release of Resolution, Czech police arrested Blythe in a Prague airport. He spent five weeks awaiting trial for a manslaughter charge after he pushed a teenaged fan, who subsequently died, off the stage at a concert there two years earlier. Blythe was acquitted, but the process hung like a cloud around the band. They scrapped plans for shows and talked about taking a long break. Rather than languish, however, Lamb of God reassembled in the studio and got to work on several songs that examined the frontman’s time in prison and his rather hostile feelings at large.The obvious approach worked: "Still Echoes" explores the Nazi history of Prague’s Pankrác Prison, his anger for the subject animating the song with feeling. The guitars twist and scrape like the anxious hands of a very nervous person. It smartly points to Blythe’s prison time without exploiting it, powerfully suggesting that his stint inside allowed him to think about the rest of the world’s problems just as much as his own. And though the irrepressible "512" is named for the cell where Blythe spent some time, it’s penned from a much broader perspective. He serves not as the prisoner but as the spokesmen for them. "My hands are painted red/ My future is painted black/ I’ve become someone else," he screams in one of the band’s best choruses ever, deflecting much of the blame at a society that creates its own criminals. He lodges similar criticisms during the bracing-and-racing "Footprints", a song about environmental degradation, and the wonderfully thrashing spree "Delusion Pandemic", a madman philippic on Internet culture. As laughable as Blythe’s hook about mockingbirds being fed to wolves may be, it’s an irresistible moment.As with the other numbers about self-immolating heroes, Nazi assassins, or media distortion, every song on Sturm und Drang feels like an outburst unmitigated by extraneous tinkering or trials. The production is dense, thin, and minimal, the guitars and drums pushed tight to give all these lyrics extra oomph. The fancy features are limited to a talkbox solo here and a Henry Rollins-like spoken-word bit there. Rather than distract from the hooks, they only reinforce them through contrast. No, Sturm und Drang isn’t a landmark of major-label heavy metal, but it is a reminder of just how very good one of its biggest bands can be when they have something to worry about other than trying so hard to be important.
We do not live in a golden age of major-label heavy metal. Gone are the days when many of the worldwide form’s biggest innovators earned large budgets from still-larger companies or bidding wars occurred for the most brutal new prospect. Though there are exceptions, most modern metal backed by largesse aims so squarely for genre rigidity and predictability that it’s hard to believe it requires humans to make. It’s as though the stuff comes from a factory in some anonymous and once-economically depressed flyover town, conveniently produced in five-band package tours that are almost impossible to distinguish but easy to absorb. Meanwhile, the new metal records that seem destined to matter as masterpieces, like Tribulation’s recent Children of the Night, arrive largely from the indie fringes. After three decades under Rick Rubin’s aegis, even the mighty Slayer have decamped to an indie for the forthcoming Repentless.
During the past decade, Lamb of God have struggled with such a fate. Since signing to Epic Records for their third album, 2004’s Ashes of the Wake, they’ve often seemed a rather regimented metal band. Every two or three years, they would churn out another 10 or so songs, with big grooves and death metal outbursts decorated by lots and lots of guitars. Randy Blythe was a rampaging frontman, the kind who encouraged that you get loud with his tirades. But Lamb of God always teased the edges of their sound, trying to push beyond their meat-and-potatoes metal reputation with each release. It’s as if they felt guilty about their well-heeled position on Epic and tried to use it to gradually inch away from stylistic and financial safety, somehow back toward the fringes. By the time they issued 2012’s Resolution, such distractions had wantonly diluted their strengths, resulting in an abysmal record of mediocre hooks and banal studio gimmicks.
Despite the highfaluting combination of Roman numerals and German words it takes as a title, Lamb of God’s very good seventh album, VII: Sturm und Drang, is a satisfactorily settled record, arguably their first such effort in a decade. Sturm und Drang takes decidedly few chances. Instead, it sticks mostly to up-tempo numbers, countered only by a clean-singing ballad that soon enough heads for the pit and a righteous stomper that eventually sublimates into something like shoegaze with the help of Deftone Chino Moreno. All of these songs are studded with enormous refrains and driven by a sense of urgency that Lamb of God have forsaken in recent years. When Blythe’s distended scream rips across howling amplifiers at the start of "Still Echoes", or when "Delusion Pandemic" snaps right into a belligerent stomp, it’s as if they’ve finally got too much to say to fuck around with being fancy. By not trying to be overly interesting or involved, Lamb of God have made one of their most alluring albums in years.
The newfound energy and efficiency seem to stem, in part, from between-album trauma: In 2012, months after the release of Resolution, Czech police arrested Blythe in a Prague airport. He spent five weeks awaiting trial for a manslaughter charge after he pushed a teenaged fan, who subsequently died, off the stage at a concert there two years earlier. Blythe was acquitted, but the process hung like a cloud around the band. They scrapped plans for shows and talked about taking a long break. Rather than languish, however, Lamb of God reassembled in the studio and got to work on several songs that examined the frontman’s time in prison and his rather hostile feelings at large.
The obvious approach worked: "Still Echoes" explores the Nazi history of Prague’s Pankrác Prison, his anger for the subject animating the song with feeling. The guitars twist and scrape like the anxious hands of a very nervous person. It smartly points to Blythe’s prison time without exploiting it, powerfully suggesting that his stint inside allowed him to think about the rest of the world’s problems just as much as his own. And though the irrepressible "512" is named for the cell where Blythe spent some time, it’s penned from a much broader perspective. He serves not as the prisoner but as the spokesmen for them. "My hands are painted red/ My future is painted black/ I’ve become someone else," he screams in one of the band’s best choruses ever, deflecting much of the blame at a society that creates its own criminals. He lodges similar criticisms during the bracing-and-racing "Footprints", a song about environmental degradation, and the wonderfully thrashing spree "Delusion Pandemic", a madman philippic on Internet culture. As laughable as Blythe’s hook about mockingbirds being fed to wolves may be, it’s an irresistible moment.
As with the other numbers about self-immolating heroes, Nazi assassins, or media distortion, every song on Sturm und Drang feels like an outburst unmitigated by extraneous tinkering or trials. The production is dense, thin, and minimal, the guitars and drums pushed tight to give all these lyrics extra oomph. The fancy features are limited to a talkbox solo here and a Henry Rollins-like spoken-word bit there. Rather than distract from the hooks, they only reinforce them through contrast. No, Sturm und Drang isn’t a landmark of major-label heavy metal, but it is a reminder of just how very good one of its biggest bands can be when they have something to worry about other than trying so hard to be important.
― Cosmic Slop, Sunday, 13 December 2015 22:32 (eight years ago) link
Fuck, I totally forgot to vote for Brothers of the Sonic Cloth.
― a strawman stuffed with their collection of 12 cds (jjjusten), Sunday, 13 December 2015 22:35 (eight years ago) link
Cant find any reviews worth posting here but It was a return to their earlier noisy drone sludge 3 long tracks.Remember when the indie hipters liked them? what happened to those hipsters?
I didn't even listen, I was too scared it would be more of whatever it was they did on New Album.
― moans and feedback (Dinsdale), Sunday, 13 December 2015 22:35 (eight years ago) link
82 Dead To A Dying World - Litany 193 Points, 5 Voteshttp://i.imgur.com/q9CqnmC.jpghttps://open.spotify.com/album/6RFbdaO0DHyRpR38HMHocespotify:album:6RFbdaO0DHyRpR38HMHoce
https://deadtoadyingworld.bandcamp.com/
All songs written and performed by Dead To A Dying World
Mike Yeager on VocalsHeidi Moore on VocalsEva Vonne on ViolaSean Mehl on Guitar and 12-String Acoustic GuitarGregg Prickett on GuitarJames Magruder on Bass Guitar, Guitar, Acoustic Guitar, Baritone Guitar, and PianoCyrus Meyers on Drums, Concert Bass, and Orchestra Bells
Additional vocals by Brett Campbell, Daron Beck, Jamie Myers-Waits, and Sarah Alexander, Hammer Dulcimer performed by Sarah Ruth Alexander
Dead to a Dying WorldLitanyGilead Media; 2015By Grayson Haver Currin; September8.2For a moment, you think that the onslaught is over, that after eight minutes of dramatic strings and overdriven guitars, punishing drums and punished vocals, the big Texas metal band Dead to a Dying World will at last offer a respite. After all, they’ve already detailed environmental degradation, screaming lines about nature’s revolt and grand-finale floods as rhythm and riff crack and lash against one another. But when Dead to a Dying World at last pull back during "Beneath the Loam", one of four quarter-hour marvels on their second album, Litany, it is only to regroup and instantly return with twice the speed and twice the fury. "Brittle embers flicker inside," screams Heidi Moore, pushing her voice so hard above the sudden black metal melee that she takes full stops between every word. "Where blasting suns once raged." It’s a shocking and gripping moment, a jolt applied with unapologetic force and impeccable timing amid what was already a mighty furor.That sort of escalation is exactly what Dead to a Dying World do so well throughout Litany, a vivid hybrid of doom, black metal, and crust punk, buttressed by baroque classical flourishes. Dead to a Dying World’s 2011 debut pursued a similar mix, with doom lunges and black metal surges woven together with string sections and riffs that expanded or contracted based upon the context. The idea, though, often outstripped the execution, so that the transitions between those parts felt threadbare and rushed, the rookie mistakes of an audacious new seven-piece ensemble. Four years later, however, Dead to a Dying World show no such signs of folly. These six deliberate pieces commingle melodrama and momentum, horror and hope, pulling the listener along like some tight-wire suspense flick.To an extent, that’s what it is: Litany deals with the state of the world and its rather grim prospects, delivered in moribund language that suggests we are, as a species, poised at the precipice of our end. The music animates that message, with sweeping arrangements and chiming guitars, washes of distortion and marches of drums shaping a battle between anxiety about our future and hope for it, between infinite pessimism and purposeful optimism. Though the tools are different, Dead to a Dying World suggest the same frisson as the Arcade Fire in their salad days and the same emotional ambiguity as Explosions in the Sky. There is no single style to Litany, just as there are no easy answers about the worries Dead to a Dying World address.For an album that lasts for more than an hour, though, it is at least an easy, alluring listen, largely because so much effort and thought seem to have gone into building it. During 17-minute opener "The Hunt Eternal", for instance, Dead to a Dying World volley between invigorating, aggressive black metal passages and stately, alluring doom. They drift into a pensive and patient midsection, where the spectral voice of Sabbath Assembly’s Jamie Myers-Waits hangs like foreboding fog. When at last they reach the end, they funnel all of it together, with the harshness pushing against the heaviness and buoyed from below by viola. Each moment feels bigger and more powerful than the last, so that these epics never overstay their welcome and linger into tedium. The song establishes the rubric for the rest of Litany, a seesaw of dynamics built around a world of apocalyptic images and faint whispers of renewal.Just before the album’s final minute, Dead to a Dying World collapse, exhaustedly, from Litany's blitz, the beat marching along in halftime. His voice fighting above surviving sheets of guitar, Mike Yeager fights to pose one final question: "Do we choose to follow, or can we break away?" At times, Litany may feel overwrought, too emotionally loaded and compositionally ostentatious for its own good. But here, at the end, you understand that Dead to a Dying World aren’t being maudlin just for kicks, that they’re not howling about "a bloodless pillar" and "ochre hands" and intoning lines about the end of days without cause.No, these are real-world worries, written in the extreme patois of heavy metal and cast with the mild panic of environmentalists, climate scientists, and even civil rights activists. Litany reminds me of Paul Gilding’s The Great Disruption, in which he wonders if emergency can force humanity into grand action, or the glaciologist Jason Box, who proclaimed that we might be, as he infamously put it, "f’d." Dead to a Dying World’s roots in punk and metal afford these concerns urgency, while their sophisticated sounds lend it magnetism. When Litany ends, not only do I want to hear it again but I also want to follow its lead, to make some change for the better on behalf of the music—to, as Yeager puts it, "break away." Litany paints frightening if not altogether-unfamiliar scenes and asks pressing questions of both them and us, bound to music meant to mirror the complexity and precariousness of the world at large.
For a moment, you think that the onslaught is over, that after eight minutes of dramatic strings and overdriven guitars, punishing drums and punished vocals, the big Texas metal band Dead to a Dying World will at last offer a respite. After all, they’ve already detailed environmental degradation, screaming lines about nature’s revolt and grand-finale floods as rhythm and riff crack and lash against one another. But when Dead to a Dying World at last pull back during "Beneath the Loam", one of four quarter-hour marvels on their second album, Litany, it is only to regroup and instantly return with twice the speed and twice the fury. "Brittle embers flicker inside," screams Heidi Moore, pushing her voice so hard above the sudden black metal melee that she takes full stops between every word. "Where blasting suns once raged." It’s a shocking and gripping moment, a jolt applied with unapologetic force and impeccable timing amid what was already a mighty furor.
That sort of escalation is exactly what Dead to a Dying World do so well throughout Litany, a vivid hybrid of doom, black metal, and crust punk, buttressed by baroque classical flourishes. Dead to a Dying World’s 2011 debut pursued a similar mix, with doom lunges and black metal surges woven together with string sections and riffs that expanded or contracted based upon the context. The idea, though, often outstripped the execution, so that the transitions between those parts felt threadbare and rushed, the rookie mistakes of an audacious new seven-piece ensemble. Four years later, however, Dead to a Dying World show no such signs of folly. These six deliberate pieces commingle melodrama and momentum, horror and hope, pulling the listener along like some tight-wire suspense flick.
To an extent, that’s what it is: Litany deals with the state of the world and its rather grim prospects, delivered in moribund language that suggests we are, as a species, poised at the precipice of our end. The music animates that message, with sweeping arrangements and chiming guitars, washes of distortion and marches of drums shaping a battle between anxiety about our future and hope for it, between infinite pessimism and purposeful optimism. Though the tools are different, Dead to a Dying World suggest the same frisson as the Arcade Fire in their salad days and the same emotional ambiguity as Explosions in the Sky. There is no single style to Litany, just as there are no easy answers about the worries Dead to a Dying World address.
For an album that lasts for more than an hour, though, it is at least an easy, alluring listen, largely because so much effort and thought seem to have gone into building it. During 17-minute opener "The Hunt Eternal", for instance, Dead to a Dying World volley between invigorating, aggressive black metal passages and stately, alluring doom. They drift into a pensive and patient midsection, where the spectral voice of Sabbath Assembly’s Jamie Myers-Waits hangs like foreboding fog. When at last they reach the end, they funnel all of it together, with the harshness pushing against the heaviness and buoyed from below by viola. Each moment feels bigger and more powerful than the last, so that these epics never overstay their welcome and linger into tedium. The song establishes the rubric for the rest of Litany, a seesaw of dynamics built around a world of apocalyptic images and faint whispers of renewal.
Just before the album’s final minute, Dead to a Dying World collapse, exhaustedly, from Litany's blitz, the beat marching along in halftime. His voice fighting above surviving sheets of guitar, Mike Yeager fights to pose one final question: "Do we choose to follow, or can we break away?" At times, Litany may feel overwrought, too emotionally loaded and compositionally ostentatious for its own good. But here, at the end, you understand that Dead to a Dying World aren’t being maudlin just for kicks, that they’re not howling about "a bloodless pillar" and "ochre hands" and intoning lines about the end of days without cause.
No, these are real-world worries, written in the extreme patois of heavy metal and cast with the mild panic of environmentalists, climate scientists, and even civil rights activists. Litany reminds me of Paul Gilding’s The Great Disruption, in which he wonders if emergency can force humanity into grand action, or the glaciologist Jason Box, who proclaimed that we might be, as he infamously put it, "f’d." Dead to a Dying World’s roots in punk and metal afford these concerns urgency, while their sophisticated sounds lend it magnetism. When Litany ends, not only do I want to hear it again but I also want to follow its lead, to make some change for the better on behalf of the music—to, as Yeager puts it, "break away." Litany paints frightening if not altogether-unfamiliar scenes and asks pressing questions of both them and us, bound to music meant to mirror the complexity and precariousness of the world at large.
― Cosmic Slop, Sunday, 13 December 2015 22:54 (eight years ago) link
sund4r check it out
― Cosmic Slop, Sunday, 13 December 2015 23:04 (eight years ago) link
Just pulled in, and I have two points:
1. The "dildos" on the cover of the Khemmis record are vacuum tubes, I'm 90% certain.
2. Imperial Triumphant TOO LOW (my #3)
― Tom Violence, Sunday, 13 December 2015 23:13 (eight years ago) link
last one for tonight81 Caïna - Setter of Unseen Snares 194 Points, 6 Voteshttp://i.imgur.com/lmAjgwV.jpg
https://open.spotify.com/album/26tAqsge43PB0125773ezLspotify:album:26tAqsge43PB0125773ezL
https://brokenlimbsrecordings.bandcamp.com/album/setter-of-unseen-snares
After a decade spent exploring almost every genre imaginable, Caïna’s upcoming LP and fifth album, Setter of Unseen Snares, is a return to the project's inception as a raw black metal act, as well as founder Andy Curtis-Brignell’s personal roots in punk rock and hardcore.
http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/20269-setter-of-unseen-snares/
7.8
The voice you hear in the beginning of Setter of Unseen Snares—the sixth album by the long-running, lone-man British black metal band, Caïna—will probably sound familiar. "I think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution," it purrs, echoed by synthesizers and guitars in the background. "We became creatures that should not exist by natural law." The warm Texas drawl belongs to none other than Matthew McConaughey, as the homicide detective Rustin Cohle in HBO’s "True Detective". "I think the honorable thing for our species to do is deny our program and stop reproducing, walk hand in hand into extinction, one last midnight, brothers and sisters opting out of a raw deal," he says, and for the next five tracks of this powerful concept record, Andrew Curtis-Brignell speculates about how McConaughey might be right.Curtis-Brignell started Caïna when he was only 19, using the project as a sort of solo exorcism. In 2005, the opening track of his raw first demo (which he’s made available online) imagined life "without these demons." By 2011, he’d improved the production, expanded his techniques, and opened the membership to include occasional guests. But the theme of personal examination and upheaval had become the permanent thread: "Modern day Sisyphus/ Rolling a boulder uphill," he offered during the massive, mythology-rich Hands That Pluck. "Remaking tower of Babel in my own image." In heavy metal, movie samples often play their own self-reflexive game of "Name That Obscure Horror Film or Philosophical Treatise," but the McConaughey sample opening of Setter of Unseen Snares suggests that Curtis-Brignell is trying to tell a broader story this time. It's not just that he's fucked; we all are. Over an atmospheric mixes of black metal, industrial menace, and post-rock grandeur, Curtis-Brignell lampoons the systems we love and lean on for the record’s three-song midsection. Like its title suggests, "I Am the Flail of the Lord" conjures a divine monster essentially out to imperil us all. Over a sinister riff, the ferocious title track fantasizes of divine intervention but refuses to deliver it. "Vowbound" trots out scenarios of religious subservience, where sacrifices are made in exchange for supposed protection. The narrator prays like Isaac on the altar and sells his daughter off as Old Testament property. "But my prayers go unanswered," Curtis-Brignell screams over the song’s rising action before chanting out the title like an unanswered schoolyard taunt.Setter of Unseen Snares is a work of synthesis for Curtis-Brignell, the point where he pulls many of the disparate styles and sounds he’s investigated during the last decade into 33 efficient minutes. That introductory collage, for instance, showcases the nuance of someone who has experimented at length with drone and sound-art. The title track staples a little post-punk—see the strangled, barbed riff that ricochets through it all—to menacing hardcore built by a quaking beat and Michael Ribeiro’s hoarse, forceful bellow. This, too, is the first Caïna album since 2008 to include the assistance of an outside producer; that second set of hands and ears, Joe Clayton, enable Curtis-Brignell not only to pull a decade of interests and explorations into one small space but also to have them fortify one another. Though this record lasts for only half an hour, it feels bigger than all Caïna releases, even the two-hour Hands That Pluck. That quality become paramount for the final two tracks, which offer the brief rising action and climax of this atypically concise concept album. During "Applicant/Supplicant", Curtis-Brignell imagines a family making good on McConaughey’s idea after all, as the Earth’s ecosystem has crumbled. They climb in a spaceship and head for the "horizon," only to realize that "we are the damned." The journey winds through blast beats and monastic chanting, death-metal precision and cinematic crescendos—tools Curtis-Brignell uses to make the tale of a few rubes in a sky-bound vessel both pitiful and poignant. "Orphan", the 15-minute finale, surveys the wreckage after the crash, sounding like Scott Walker leading Guns N' Roses through "November Rain". There’s one last sustained onslaught of black metal as the end of the world arrives, fulfilling the album’s threat. It’s gorgeous and daunting, a moment that takes the theatrics of bands like Deafheaven, Winterfylleth and Wolves in the Throne Room and shapes them toward a clear narrative purpose. Setter of Unseen Snares then simply fades into silence—a concept record beautifully and unapologetically finishing what it started.
The voice you hear in the beginning of Setter of Unseen Snares—the sixth album by the long-running, lone-man British black metal band, Caïna—will probably sound familiar. "I think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution," it purrs, echoed by synthesizers and guitars in the background. "We became creatures that should not exist by natural law." The warm Texas drawl belongs to none other than Matthew McConaughey, as the homicide detective Rustin Cohle in HBO’s "True Detective". "I think the honorable thing for our species to do is deny our program and stop reproducing, walk hand in hand into extinction, one last midnight, brothers and sisters opting out of a raw deal," he says, and for the next five tracks of this powerful concept record, Andrew Curtis-Brignell speculates about how McConaughey might be right.
Curtis-Brignell started Caïna when he was only 19, using the project as a sort of solo exorcism. In 2005, the opening track of his raw first demo (which he’s made available online) imagined life "without these demons." By 2011, he’d improved the production, expanded his techniques, and opened the membership to include occasional guests. But the theme of personal examination and upheaval had become the permanent thread: "Modern day Sisyphus/ Rolling a boulder uphill," he offered during the massive, mythology-rich Hands That Pluck. "Remaking tower of Babel in my own image." In heavy metal, movie samples often play their own self-reflexive game of "Name That Obscure Horror Film or Philosophical Treatise," but the McConaughey sample opening of Setter of Unseen Snares suggests that Curtis-Brignell is trying to tell a broader story this time. It's not just that he's fucked; we all are.
Over an atmospheric mixes of black metal, industrial menace, and post-rock grandeur, Curtis-Brignell lampoons the systems we love and lean on for the record’s three-song midsection. Like its title suggests, "I Am the Flail of the Lord" conjures a divine monster essentially out to imperil us all. Over a sinister riff, the ferocious title track fantasizes of divine intervention but refuses to deliver it. "Vowbound" trots out scenarios of religious subservience, where sacrifices are made in exchange for supposed protection. The narrator prays like Isaac on the altar and sells his daughter off as Old Testament property. "But my prayers go unanswered," Curtis-Brignell screams over the song’s rising action before chanting out the title like an unanswered schoolyard taunt.
Setter of Unseen Snares is a work of synthesis for Curtis-Brignell, the point where he pulls many of the disparate styles and sounds he’s investigated during the last decade into 33 efficient minutes. That introductory collage, for instance, showcases the nuance of someone who has experimented at length with drone and sound-art. The title track staples a little post-punk—see the strangled, barbed riff that ricochets through it all—to menacing hardcore built by a quaking beat and Michael Ribeiro’s hoarse, forceful bellow. This, too, is the first Caïna album since 2008 to include the assistance of an outside producer; that second set of hands and ears, Joe Clayton, enable Curtis-Brignell not only to pull a decade of interests and explorations into one small space but also to have them fortify one another. Though this record lasts for only half an hour, it feels bigger than all Caïna releases, even the two-hour Hands That Pluck.
That quality become paramount for the final two tracks, which offer the brief rising action and climax of this atypically concise concept album. During "Applicant/Supplicant", Curtis-Brignell imagines a family making good on McConaughey’s idea after all, as the Earth’s ecosystem has crumbled. They climb in a spaceship and head for the "horizon," only to realize that "we are the damned." The journey winds through blast beats and monastic chanting, death-metal precision and cinematic crescendos—tools Curtis-Brignell uses to make the tale of a few rubes in a sky-bound vessel both pitiful and poignant. "Orphan", the 15-minute finale, surveys the wreckage after the crash, sounding like Scott Walker leading Guns N' Roses through "November Rain". There’s one last sustained onslaught of black metal as the end of the world arrives, fulfilling the album’s threat. It’s gorgeous and daunting, a moment that takes the theatrics of bands like Deafheaven, Winterfylleth and Wolves in the Throne Room and shapes them toward a clear narrative purpose. Setter of Unseen Snares then simply fades into silence—a concept record beautifully and unapologetically finishing what it started.
― Cosmic Slop, Sunday, 13 December 2015 23:20 (eight years ago) link
Just asking coz I can't be bothered to check, does the Sigh album have anything even remotely as great as 'A Sunset Song'?
― roughest.contoured.silks (imago), Sunday, 13 December 2015 23:21 (eight years ago) link
Vastum was super btw (and seems to have great politics too)
― roughest.contoured.silks (imago), Sunday, 13 December 2015 23:23 (eight years ago) link
Helped KEN Mode make this poll too; it's all great but that opening track oh my word
― roughest.contoured.silks (imago), Sunday, 13 December 2015 23:26 (eight years ago) link
Recap 103-81
103 Khemmis - Absolution 153 Points, 7 Votes102 Corsair - One Eyed Horse 155 Points, 5 Votes101 Absconditus - Katabasis/Kατάβασις 156 Points, 4 Votes100 Nameless Coyote - Blood Moon 157 Points, 5 Votes99 Black Cilice - Mysteries 158 Points, 4 Votes98 Lucifer - Lucifer I 161 Points, 5 Votes97 Imperial Triumphant - Abyssal Gods 163 Points, 4 Votes96 Nile - What Should Not Be Unearthed 163 Points, 5 Votes93 Vastum - Hole Below 163 Points, 6 Votes93 Locrian - Infinite Dissolution 163 Points, 6 Votes93 KEN Mode - Success 163 Points, 6 Votes92 Kylesa - Exhausting Fire 164 Points, 5 Votes91 Sigh - Graveward 164 Points, 7 Votes90 Ahab - The Boats of the Glen Carrig 168 Points, 6 Votes89 Noisem - Blossoming Decay 169 Points, 4 Votes, One #188 Amestigon - Thier 169 Points, 5 Votes87 Nechochewn - Heart of Akamon 173 Points, 5 Votes86 Intronaut - The Direction of Last Things 175 Points, 6 Votes85 Brothers of the Sonic Cloth - Brothers of the Sonic Cloth 180 Points, 5 Votes84 Boris - Asia 181 Points, 6 Votes83 Lamb of God - VII: Sturm und Drang 188 Points, 5 Votes82 Dead To A Dying World - Litany 193 Points, 5 Votes81 Caïna - Setter of Unseen Snares 194 Points, 6 Votes
https://open.spotify.com/user/pfunkboy/playlist/6mvdcu4DLqquTIC88GvjTDorput this in your spotify search spotify:user:pfunkboy:playlist:6mvdcu4DLqquTIC88GvjTD
― Cosmic Slop, Sunday, 13 December 2015 23:30 (eight years ago) link
I'm liking Nechochwen quite a bit so far. This and Locrian are the two albums I've liked most out of the ones I've tried so far.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Sunday, 13 December 2015 23:31 (eight years ago) link
Hopefully some people made/will make good discoveries from todays results
― Cosmic Slop, Sunday, 13 December 2015 23:32 (eight years ago) link
Nechochwen is one I'm likely to buy.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Sunday, 13 December 2015 23:43 (eight years ago) link
I always find the bottom parts of the poll the most interesting as that's where I pick up good recommendations.
― Cosmic Slop, Sunday, 13 December 2015 23:44 (eight years ago) link
1:30 into Ken Mode. Wow, so this is basically a Shellac record?
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Sunday, 13 December 2015 23:48 (eight years ago) link
Ken Mode also going on the to-buy list.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Monday, 14 December 2015 00:22 (eight years ago) link
This Amestigon is very good. Nice one voters
― Cosmic Slop, Monday, 14 December 2015 00:28 (eight years ago) link
Caina still sound very good, although I think I'd like to hear a more traditionally good singer on the melodic part in "Orphan". This still works in its own way.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Monday, 14 December 2015 00:51 (eight years ago) link
"Orphan" is one of the best songs I've heard this year. The rest of the album is decent but can't hold a candle to it.
― EZ Snappin, Monday, 14 December 2015 01:01 (eight years ago) link
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Sunday, December 13, 2015 11:48 PM (Yesterday) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink
yah Albini's presence couldn't have been signposted any more explicitly but tbafh Shellac haven't banged that hard in ages
― roughest.contoured.silks (imago), Monday, 14 December 2015 01:06 (eight years ago) link
"Orphan" was v cool tho yeah, seems weird that I was listening to Caina in like 2006 but not really much since
― roughest.contoured.silks (imago), Monday, 14 December 2015 01:23 (eight years ago) link
but HEY what's THIS
Brothers Of The goddamn Sonic Cloth - fucking fabulous - absolutely destroying everything Neurosis have done since the 90s, which is probably why Neurosis signed them, having settled rather nicely into curatorial mode by now. 'Unnamed' is ENORMOUS
this is my favourite discovery of the day I think, although three of the others were discovered yesterday and subsequently voted for
― roughest.contoured.silks (imago), Monday, 14 December 2015 01:41 (eight years ago) link
you familiar with Tad?
― Cosmic Slop, Monday, 14 December 2015 01:43 (eight years ago) link
nope, sounds like I should be
― roughest.contoured.silks (imago), Monday, 14 December 2015 01:46 (eight years ago) link
Good thing I saved up a bunch of eMusic credits before this rollout. So far Absconditus and Ken Mode are going on my shopping list. Still working my way through today's list.
― o. nate, Monday, 14 December 2015 02:11 (eight years ago) link
i'm liking this vastum more than their last couple
― j., Monday, 14 December 2015 02:11 (eight years ago) link
Apparently I should check out both Absconditus and Amestigon. Literally only have heard two from the list so far, one of which made my top 10 (Nechochwen) and the other that didn't but I wish it could've (Nile, because they used to be one my reliable favs and if every song had been as perfect as "In the Name of Amun" the album would've killed).
― Devilock, Monday, 14 December 2015 02:14 (eight years ago) link
I prefer this stretch of the poll because it's where everyone makes great new discoveries. As we move on I think it's albums more of us have heard.
― Cosmic Slop, Monday, 14 December 2015 02:23 (eight years ago) link
Amestigon looks to be going on the list as well.
― EveningStar (Sund4r), Monday, 14 December 2015 02:39 (eight years ago) link
Way to go Locrian & Kylesa! I didn't vote this year but looks like my favorites are going to be ok. I'm sure Windhand and other things I've liked will show up. Good job, voters.
― La Lechuza (La Lechera), Monday, 14 December 2015 02:43 (eight years ago) link
Albums that made my Ballot (Bolded was the highest)93 Locrian - Infinite Dissolution91 Sigh - Graveward87 Nechochewn - Heart of Akamon
Albums that made my Top 101102 Corsair - One Eyed Horse90 Ahab - The Boats of the Glen Carrig89 Noisem - Blossoming Decay86 Intronaut - The Direction of Last Things85 Brothers of the Sonic Cloth - Brothers of the Sonic Cloth
Albums I will visit (revisit in some cases)100 Nameless Coyote - Blood Moon93 Vastum - Hole Below93 KEN Mode - Success92 Kylesa - Exhausting Fire84 Boris - Asia81 Caïna - Setter of Unseen Snares
Album I most disliked98 Lucifer - Lucifer I
― Loud guitars shit all over "Bette Davis Eyes" (NYCNative), Monday, 14 December 2015 04:23 (eight years ago) link
The Lucifer album is very enjoyable.
― i;m thinking about thos Beans (Michael B), Monday, 14 December 2015 07:11 (eight years ago) link
Pretty sure my #1 won't make it :(
― ArchCarrier, Monday, 14 December 2015 07:37 (eight years ago) link
Glad Absconditus squeaked in (I think it was in my top 10)! I also had Vastum somewhere in my ballot.
Imperial Triumphant is insane, first time I've checked them out, already decided to buy it.
― prickly festive towers (GOTT PUNCH II HAWKWINDZ), Monday, 14 December 2015 11:11 (eight years ago) link
Really like that Dead to a Dying World album, pretty strong and engaging post-metal which is not something I'd expect these days.
Nechochwen and Kylesa were both enjoyable but not amazing to me.
Caina and Amestigon should on paper be right up my street, but they're both deeply unconvincing to me for different reasons. Caina tries to do everything but despite the variety it always sounds like a poorer version of something else.
Amestigon I heard earlier in the year and found it a real snoozer.
I might give the new Sigh album a try tonight, for some reason Imaginary Sonicscape is the only record of theirs I've been able to get into. The guest appearances do not fill me with much hope.
― ultros ultros-ghali, Monday, 14 December 2015 11:38 (eight years ago) link
I'm not usually one to say this either but Imperial Triumphant: TOO FUCKING LOW
― ultros ultros-ghali, Monday, 14 December 2015 11:39 (eight years ago) link
if there's people around I shall start the rollout in 10 mins then. Just need a cup of darjeeling first
― Cosmic Slop, Monday, 14 December 2015 12:21 (eight years ago) link
http://i.imgur.com/E8m6eZT.gif
― ArchCarrier, Monday, 14 December 2015 12:25 (eight years ago) link
80 Prurient - Frozen Niagara Falls 195 Points, 6 Voteshttp://i.imgur.com/Qv3LP3S.jpg
https://open.spotify.com/album/5Pm2WvqxlDttK4hTx1vKe3spotify:album:5Pm2WvqxlDttK4hTx1vKe3
http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/20463-prurient-frozen-niagara-falls/8.5 BNM
Prurient, the main guise of Dominick Fernow, peels back the grislier aspects of the human condition within the boundaries of noise music. He doesn't just talk about desire and hate and pushing oneself in his music, he soaks those very feelings into his works. Within his massive discography, littered with limited-release tapes that can be frustrating to any would-be collector, are his "statement" records, which often introduce new elements that advance his artistic growth. Among these are 2006's Pleasure Ground, where his talents for rhythm really started to bloom, 2011's Bermuda Drain, his blackened new wave masterpiece, and 2013's Through The Window, where he nearly ditched noise for unknown-hours techno. Frozen Niagara Falls, Fernow's latest double album, is definitely one of his "statement records," and it brings back much of the harsh noise that faded away from his more recent works, but it's neither a "return to form" nor a retreat into his early career. With Niagara, he's taken strengths from his entire oeuvre to reach deeper into himself and produce what may be his best record yet, one that brings all the fulfillment of noise and transcends them all the same.Fernow's moved back to New York from L.A., where he was briefly a member of Cold Cave, and Niagara cements that return. There's none of the techno of Window or any traces of his European adventures following his side project Vatican Shadow's frequent touring there, and only some of Bermuda's bizzaro synth-pop. There are no remaining traces of Fernow the underground playboy posting swanky selfies on OkCupid; on Niagara, he is once again the man standing shirtless outside in the New York winter. The closest to anything resembling Bermuda is "Every Relationship Earthrise", which would make for excellent darkwave if the hiccuping beat would hold still. Fernow takes the tools most noise artists use as ends themselves and uses them to further narratives and enrich the compositions. Take "Traditional Snowfall", which starts off as a murder-romance fantasy—"I want to rip out your lower back/ And suck the air out of your lungs/ And wrap my hands around your neck/ And collapse your throat/ And squish your thorax/ And kiss you"—but turns into a rumination on the ambiguity so prevalent in modern love: "Friends are everywhere but I'm always leaving/ Dismantling us with rumors." (Maybe some of the club weariness of Window stuck around after all.) Fernow takes that confusion and buries it in the hisses and frantic electronics, so that it bleeds through every element of the track. Huge blasts of static and contact mic chaos come back into the fore, a passionate and turbulent dance between beauty and ugliness. To work with contrasts like that, on that deep a composition, is a rarity in noise.It may seem weird that Prurient would have "hits" or "fan favorites," but they do exist. Fernow designed Niagara to be sprawling and cohesive, and there are multiple competing candidates for new ones here, across the spectrum. The first would probably be "Dragonflies to Sew You Up", with percussion that resemble Godflesh's drum machine becoming sentient and suffering a panic attack. Beneath the barrage, blue synthesizers and pianos chime, barely surviving the mortar-fire of the percussion. In the lyrics, Fernow flips the script on how lust is portrayed in noise—it's far from the simplistic objectification that comes too often with big, burly loud music. There's a conflicted pain when he screams, "IN AUGUST/ YOU'RE OVERDRESSED/ PLYWOOD BROKEN/ UP ON IMPACT." A line like "I promise I will only fuck prostitutes" may seem comical on paper, but add in the context of Fernow's vocal performance, and it's clear he takes no pleasure from yelling such a thing.Fernow's synths sound both lusher and icier than they did on Drain, thanks to producer Arthur Rizk, known for his work on Power Trip's Manifest Decimation, Inquisition's Obscure Verses for the Multiverse, and other notable recent metal and hardcore records. Fernow has pushed the limits of what lo-fi can do—Pleasure in particular is a testament to the beauty of buried synths—but with his grander ambitions, he needed a bigger sound, and Rizk's contributions are so invaluable he may as well be Prurient's second member. Niagara is Prurient's most developed record, not just for its length, but the attention to detail that Rizk provides.Fernow's original intent for Niagara was to source all of the material acoustically, with no electronics at all. That would have been radical, even for him. Still, upon first listen, it is jarring to hear acoustic guitars, provided by Rizk and Fernow, in the beginning of "Greenpoint", Niagara's peak New York song. From there, it descends into throbs of darkness, but that's only part of the point of the song. While "Greenpoint" is about someone Fernow knew, when I read the lyrics my mind went to Oliver Sacks' New Yorker essay on monologist Spalding Gray's descent into irreversible depression that led to his suicide in 2004. Gray's thoughts of suicide always centered around drowning and his mother, whose own suicide figured heavily into his work, and it's eerie that "The East River isn't romantic anymore you know/ That's where the suicides go/ Or maybe that's what you want in the end/ To be mixed together and reunited with your mother" are almost as if they were about him. It's specific yet flexible, adding another layer of complexity as only Fernow can.Like "Greenpoint", closer "Christ Among the Broken Glass" shows a side of Prurient that is sometimes overlooked: poignancy. It's also the closest thing to Fernow's original vision for Niagara, which makes it an even more appropriate ending. The sound of fire combines with the guitars, evoking a séance more than a campfire. Like "I Understand You", the closing track from JK Flesh and Prurient's Worship Is the Cleansing of the Imagination where fragile glimmers of serenity are eaten without mercy by squalling feedback, "Christ" reveals itself slowly. Niagara was recorded "in the spirit of homelessness," and Fernow's lyrics in "Christ" capture how winter brutalizes the homeless and how self-sacrifice can make one appear messianic, especially when that figure is among the afflicted themselves. The man, "Jesus of cities," becomes both more noble and more destitute with every verse—"Cobbling together syllables/ Over a frostbitten tongue/ Trying to remember the prayers"—though this isn't about pity, but about reality. Fernow's hushed vocals don't even come in until close to the end of the song, and they make his silent stalker tone on Window sound pronounced in comparison. Who knew that one of the least noisy Prurient songs would strike the deepest? A double noise album is a lot to take in, and Prurient's never been about accessibility. He's also not about acceptable signifiers; he's bigger than noise. He offers an endless, probing self-exploration that simply isn't found in noise, metal, hardcore, power electronics, whatever harsh music you can think of. In that regard, Niagara is a landmark not just in Prurient's discography, but within extreme music. His few utterances in "Falling Mask" sum up the experience of the album, and of his body of work: "What we do/ We invite pain/ It's ok to be hungry/ Hunger is normal/ I'll meet you there." He knows Prurient isn't for everybody, and that's part of the appeal, but if you're not going to invite growth and reveal yourself, why bother?
Prurient, the main guise of Dominick Fernow, peels back the grislier aspects of the human condition within the boundaries of noise music. He doesn't just talk about desire and hate and pushing oneself in his music, he soaks those very feelings into his works. Within his massive discography, littered with limited-release tapes that can be frustrating to any would-be collector, are his "statement" records, which often introduce new elements that advance his artistic growth. Among these are 2006's Pleasure Ground, where his talents for rhythm really started to bloom, 2011's Bermuda Drain, his blackened new wave masterpiece, and 2013's Through The Window, where he nearly ditched noise for unknown-hours techno. Frozen Niagara Falls, Fernow's latest double album, is definitely one of his "statement records," and it brings back much of the harsh noise that faded away from his more recent works, but it's neither a "return to form" nor a retreat into his early career. With Niagara, he's taken strengths from his entire oeuvre to reach deeper into himself and produce what may be his best record yet, one that brings all the fulfillment of noise and transcends them all the same.
Fernow's moved back to New York from L.A., where he was briefly a member of Cold Cave, and Niagara cements that return. There's none of the techno of Window or any traces of his European adventures following his side project Vatican Shadow's frequent touring there, and only some of Bermuda's bizzaro synth-pop. There are no remaining traces of Fernow the underground playboy posting swanky selfies on OkCupid; on Niagara, he is once again the man standing shirtless outside in the New York winter. The closest to anything resembling Bermuda is "Every Relationship Earthrise", which would make for excellent darkwave if the hiccuping beat would hold still.
Fernow takes the tools most noise artists use as ends themselves and uses them to further narratives and enrich the compositions. Take "Traditional Snowfall", which starts off as a murder-romance fantasy—"I want to rip out your lower back/ And suck the air out of your lungs/ And wrap my hands around your neck/ And collapse your throat/ And squish your thorax/ And kiss you"—but turns into a rumination on the ambiguity so prevalent in modern love: "Friends are everywhere but I'm always leaving/ Dismantling us with rumors." (Maybe some of the club weariness of Window stuck around after all.) Fernow takes that confusion and buries it in the hisses and frantic electronics, so that it bleeds through every element of the track. Huge blasts of static and contact mic chaos come back into the fore, a passionate and turbulent dance between beauty and ugliness. To work with contrasts like that, on that deep a composition, is a rarity in noise.
It may seem weird that Prurient would have "hits" or "fan favorites," but they do exist. Fernow designed Niagara to be sprawling and cohesive, and there are multiple competing candidates for new ones here, across the spectrum. The first would probably be "Dragonflies to Sew You Up", with percussion that resemble Godflesh's drum machine becoming sentient and suffering a panic attack. Beneath the barrage, blue synthesizers and pianos chime, barely surviving the mortar-fire of the percussion. In the lyrics, Fernow flips the script on how lust is portrayed in noise—it's far from the simplistic objectification that comes too often with big, burly loud music. There's a conflicted pain when he screams, "IN AUGUST/ YOU'RE OVERDRESSED/ PLYWOOD BROKEN/ UP ON IMPACT." A line like "I promise I will only fuck prostitutes" may seem comical on paper, but add in the context of Fernow's vocal performance, and it's clear he takes no pleasure from yelling such a thing.
Fernow's synths sound both lusher and icier than they did on Drain, thanks to producer Arthur Rizk, known for his work on Power Trip's Manifest Decimation, Inquisition's Obscure Verses for the Multiverse, and other notable recent metal and hardcore records. Fernow has pushed the limits of what lo-fi can do—Pleasure in particular is a testament to the beauty of buried synths—but with his grander ambitions, he needed a bigger sound, and Rizk's contributions are so invaluable he may as well be Prurient's second member. Niagara is Prurient's most developed record, not just for its length, but the attention to detail that Rizk provides.
Fernow's original intent for Niagara was to source all of the material acoustically, with no electronics at all. That would have been radical, even for him. Still, upon first listen, it is jarring to hear acoustic guitars, provided by Rizk and Fernow, in the beginning of "Greenpoint", Niagara's peak New York song. From there, it descends into throbs of darkness, but that's only part of the point of the song. While "Greenpoint" is about someone Fernow knew, when I read the lyrics my mind went to Oliver Sacks' New Yorker essay on monologist Spalding Gray's descent into irreversible depression that led to his suicide in 2004. Gray's thoughts of suicide always centered around drowning and his mother, whose own suicide figured heavily into his work, and it's eerie that "The East River isn't romantic anymore you know/ That's where the suicides go/ Or maybe that's what you want in the end/ To be mixed together and reunited with your mother" are almost as if they were about him. It's specific yet flexible, adding another layer of complexity as only Fernow can.
Like "Greenpoint", closer "Christ Among the Broken Glass" shows a side of Prurient that is sometimes overlooked: poignancy. It's also the closest thing to Fernow's original vision for Niagara, which makes it an even more appropriate ending. The sound of fire combines with the guitars, evoking a séance more than a campfire. Like "I Understand You", the closing track from JK Flesh and Prurient's Worship Is the Cleansing of the Imagination where fragile glimmers of serenity are eaten without mercy by squalling feedback, "Christ" reveals itself slowly. Niagara was recorded "in the spirit of homelessness," and Fernow's lyrics in "Christ" capture how winter brutalizes the homeless and how self-sacrifice can make one appear messianic, especially when that figure is among the afflicted themselves. The man, "Jesus of cities," becomes both more noble and more destitute with every verse—"Cobbling together syllables/ Over a frostbitten tongue/ Trying to remember the prayers"—though this isn't about pity, but about reality. Fernow's hushed vocals don't even come in until close to the end of the song, and they make his silent stalker tone on Window sound pronounced in comparison. Who knew that one of the least noisy Prurient songs would strike the deepest?
A double noise album is a lot to take in, and Prurient's never been about accessibility. He's also not about acceptable signifiers; he's bigger than noise. He offers an endless, probing self-exploration that simply isn't found in noise, metal, hardcore, power electronics, whatever harsh music you can think of. In that regard, Niagara is a landmark not just in Prurient's discography, but within extreme music. His few utterances in "Falling Mask" sum up the experience of the album, and of his body of work: "What we do/ We invite pain/ It's ok to be hungry/ Hunger is normal/ I'll meet you there." He knows Prurient isn't for everybody, and that's part of the appeal, but if you're not going to invite growth and reveal yourself, why bother?
― Trump's Gaz Coombesover (Cosmic Slop), Monday, 14 December 2015 12:32 (eight years ago) link
haha I love how you all disappear now
― Trump's Gaz Coombesover (Cosmic Slop), Monday, 14 December 2015 12:49 (eight years ago) link
we're all waiting for an actual metal album to comment
― moans and feedback (Dinsdale), Monday, 14 December 2015 12:50 (eight years ago) link
thread is missing emil.y this year
― Trump's Gaz Coombesover (Cosmic Slop), Monday, 14 December 2015 12:53 (eight years ago) link
79 Arcturus - Arcturian 196 Points, 6 Voteshttp://i.imgur.com/Zti743M.jpghttps://open.spotify.com/album/5yJ9F1Md1I14N0r1LcIF58spotify:album:5yJ9F1Md1I14N0r1LcIF58
https://arcturus-no.bandcamp.com/album/arcturian
http://www.angrymetalguy.com/arcturus-arcturian-review/
It’s really no secret; I fucking love Arcturus. There is nothing that can be done about this fanboyism of mine and I don’t care to fix it. Since the first time I heard The Sham Mirrors in 2002, I have not only loved them, but find Mirrors to be one of my favorite albums ever. I don’t expect everyone to agree with me and, again, I’m not going to fix it. Sadly, bad things started to happen for the band after that release. Garm (or whatever the hell his name is) was replaced by I.C.S. Vortex in 2005. The same year the band dropped the disappointing Sideshow Symphonies. They broke up (and broke my heart) in 2007, and there hasn’t been any sort of release from them in ten long years. But now these lovable Norwegians are finally back. After a songwriting and recording process that lasted nearly four years (cut them some slack or we won’t be getting anymore Borknagar and Mayhem albums), 2015 brings us their new opus, Arcturian. Does this mean Arcturus will reclaim their rightful place at the head of the avante-garde table? Is this the comeback album of the year? Are there more ridiculous band photos this time around? Did Hellhammer actually eat Dead’s brains? All legitimate questions but let’s just focus on the first two.Before we begin, let me be clear about something. My issue with Sideshow Symphonies is not the addition of I.C.S. Vortex. I absolutely love I.C.S. Vortex and own every stinkin’ album he ever appeared on. My issue is the lack of that indescribable beauty that makes Arcturus who they are. Without the passion and splendor in their sound, it becomes run-of-the-mill ambiance. Thankfully all is forgiven (mostly) and I can sleep easy again (seriously, this is why I haven’t slept in ten years). While not as grand as The Sham Mirrors, Arcturian does well to guide Arcturus on the right path after the aforementioned misstep. The weirdness of old Arcturus is present once again and Vortex’s confidence is through the roof as he finally gets the chance to be himself in boots once sported by Garm. And it’s oh so good. Vortex is on top of his game and in command of everything from his malicious rasps on “Demon,” his mid-range Peavy Wagner-isms on “Angst” and his ball-busting shrieks on “Pale.” There’s even some “yodeling” in “Crashland” and falsettos in “Warp.” No more comparisons to Garm need be made; Vortex fucking owns Arcturian.Arcturus - Arcturian 02Another player that – not surprising – leaves his mark on this release is Hellhammer. I don’t even need to look it up to know that this relentless beating is the result of the thunder feet of this BM god. The way he manipulates his four (?) limbs does just as much for the signature sound of Arcturus as the creepy carny shit that finds its way into every release since La Masquerade Infernale (I direct your attention to Arcturian closer “Bane”). Vocals and drums accounted for, the orchestrations and keys soak this outing in an atmosphere so thick, no amount of sunshine would ever break through. Be it the soundtrack-like qualities of the outro in “Crashland,” the ridiculously catchy X-File-esque melodies of “Warp,” or the industrial machinations of “Demon” and “The Journey,” the mind-fuckery of Arcturus has survived and now wreaks havoc on Arcturian with full support from the other instrumentation.However, the brain warping has mellowed out since the days of Masquerade and Mirrors. Arcturian (much like its predecessor) is more accessible than releases of old. However, the biggest difference between Arturian and Sideshow Symphonies is that the band brought along that old spark to ignite this new record. Spontaneity and flow is abundant as Arcturus tosses clean-guitar licks into “Game Over,” acoustic pluckings in the semi-instrumental “The Journey,” and some ethereal violins for “The Journey” and “Bane.” And if that wasn’t enough, you’ll also get an end-product dressed with a respectable DR7 rating and a solid balance in the instrumentation. The drums are crisp, the vocals are out front, and the guitars get to choose when to be muddled in the atmosphere or make their way to the surface as the electric axes are substituted for the acoustic ones.Overall, we have a winner here that most disgruntled Arcturus fans can enjoy. Not to the levels of La Masquerade Infernale or The Sham Mirrors, but we can’t always get what we want. If this were to be Arcturus’ swansong, I wouldn’t lose sleep over it.
Before we begin, let me be clear about something. My issue with Sideshow Symphonies is not the addition of I.C.S. Vortex. I absolutely love I.C.S. Vortex and own every stinkin’ album he ever appeared on. My issue is the lack of that indescribable beauty that makes Arcturus who they are. Without the passion and splendor in their sound, it becomes run-of-the-mill ambiance. Thankfully all is forgiven (mostly) and I can sleep easy again (seriously, this is why I haven’t slept in ten years). While not as grand as The Sham Mirrors, Arcturian does well to guide Arcturus on the right path after the aforementioned misstep. The weirdness of old Arcturus is present once again and Vortex’s confidence is through the roof as he finally gets the chance to be himself in boots once sported by Garm. And it’s oh so good. Vortex is on top of his game and in command of everything from his malicious rasps on “Demon,” his mid-range Peavy Wagner-isms on “Angst” and his ball-busting shrieks on “Pale.” There’s even some “yodeling” in “Crashland” and falsettos in “Warp.” No more comparisons to Garm need be made; Vortex fucking owns Arcturian.
Arcturus - Arcturian 02Another player that – not surprising – leaves his mark on this release is Hellhammer. I don’t even need to look it up to know that this relentless beating is the result of the thunder feet of this BM god. The way he manipulates his four (?) limbs does just as much for the signature sound of Arcturus as the creepy carny shit that finds its way into every release since La Masquerade Infernale (I direct your attention to Arcturian closer “Bane”). Vocals and drums accounted for, the orchestrations and keys soak this outing in an atmosphere so thick, no amount of sunshine would ever break through. Be it the soundtrack-like qualities of the outro in “Crashland,” the ridiculously catchy X-File-esque melodies of “Warp,” or the industrial machinations of “Demon” and “The Journey,” the mind-fuckery of Arcturus has survived and now wreaks havoc on Arcturian with full support from the other instrumentation.
However, the brain warping has mellowed out since the days of Masquerade and Mirrors. Arcturian (much like its predecessor) is more accessible than releases of old. However, the biggest difference between Arturian and Sideshow Symphonies is that the band brought along that old spark to ignite this new record. Spontaneity and flow is abundant as Arcturus tosses clean-guitar licks into “Game Over,” acoustic pluckings in the semi-instrumental “The Journey,” and some ethereal violins for “The Journey” and “Bane.” And if that wasn’t enough, you’ll also get an end-product dressed with a respectable DR7 rating and a solid balance in the instrumentation. The drums are crisp, the vocals are out front, and the guitars get to choose when to be muddled in the atmosphere or make their way to the surface as the electric axes are substituted for the acoustic ones.
Overall, we have a winner here that most disgruntled Arcturus fans can enjoy. Not to the levels of La Masquerade Infernale or The Sham Mirrors, but we can’t always get what we want. If this were to be Arcturus’ swansong, I wouldn’t lose sleep over it.
― Trump's Gaz Coombesover (Cosmic Slop), Monday, 14 December 2015 13:00 (eight years ago) link
Is that metal enough?
― Trump's Gaz Coombesover (Cosmic Slop), Monday, 14 December 2015 13:02 (eight years ago) link
Need to listen to that. They're usually good fun
― roughest.contoured.silks (imago), Monday, 14 December 2015 13:04 (eight years ago) link
78 Huntress - Static 196 Points, 7 Voteshttp://i.imgur.com/dCAgZrU.jpg
https://open.spotify.com/album/7F3H6bcFfaj4DE51MsJE54spotify:album:7F3H6bcFfaj4DE51MsJE54
http://burningambulance.com/2015/09/25/huntress/
Huntress is a relatively young band, having been around for just over five years. Vocalist Jill Janus, then going by the name Penelope Tuesdae, hired the Los Angeles-based band Professor to perform at a weekly club night she was hosting in Hollywood, and they joined forces. (This interview fills in more of Janus’ background; she’s also been a DJ and had a covers project with guitarist Dave Navarro.) In 2011, the group, renamed Huntress, signed to Napalm Records, releasing their debut album, Spell Eater, the following year and their second, Starbound Beast, in 2013.The band’s music started out as a mix of thrash and old-school trad/power metal. Janus is a theatrical vocalist with a wide range, capable of almost operatic singing in the vein of Judas Priest‘s Rob Halford, Iron Maiden‘s Bruce Dickinson, or Ronnie James Dio, but she didn’t fully exploit it on the band’s early recordings. On Spell Eater, she frequently employed a hoarse, witchy screech strongly reminiscent of Nicole Lee, frontwoman of cult ’80s thrashers Znöwhite; it was a style some listeners found off-putting. It meshed relatively well with the thrash/death riffing the band was pumping out at the time, though. Huntress toured hard in search of an audience; I saw them open for DragonForce, and Janus was a stiff, awkward presence, strutting back and forth and frequently ducking behind the amps during guitar solos.Starbound Beast was a more confident and musically ambitious effort. It included an instrumental intro and songs that had real, memorable melodies and choruses; ended with a capable cover of Judas Priest‘s “Running Wild”; and Motörhead‘s Lemmy contributed lyrics to “I Want to Fuck You to Death.” Janus was synthesizing the various elements of her style into a multifaceted but unified voice, emphasizing her singing over her shrieks, and becoming a better live performer, too. I saw them again, this time opening for Killswitch Engage, and she engaged the crowd much more capably, striking fewer gawky poses and delivering the songs with authority. Lyrically, she moved beyond the fantasy-metal tropes of the debut, seeming to hint at realism, if not autobiography.Static, out this week (get it from Amazon), is the biggest step forward yet for Huntress. In every respect, it’s a more accomplished and focused album than its two predecessors. The band have stripped down their style, largely abandoning the thrash/death metal of the debut and going classicist/’80s instead. The intro to the first single, “Flesh,” nods to Slash‘s playing with Guns N’ Roses, while “Mania” could easily have fit on a pre-British Steel Judas Priest album; actually, its main riff sounds ripped from Black Sabbath circa Sabotage. Lead guitarist and founding member Blake Meahl‘s solos are showy without being absurd or overtaking the song, and rhythm guitarist Eli Santana and drummer Tyler Meahl (new additions to the group) are fluent in a variety of styles, from doom to the almost punky hard rock of “I Want to Wanna Wake Up,” while avoiding a trying-on-hats feel. All these songs sound like Huntress songs, not like covers or style-pastiches.Lyrically, Janus has shifted gears in a big way, too. On Spell Eater and Starbound Beast, as their titles likely indicate, she mostly kept things in the realm of fantasy, singing about witches and spells and monsters, and dealing with life through metaphor (a tactic with a long history in metal, going back at least as far as Ronnie James Dio). The first five songs on Static—”Sorrow,” “Flesh,” “Brian,” “I Want to Wanna Wake Up,” and “Mania”—make up a kind of suite, in which the lyrics reflect very real, autobiographical pain. (This interview with Revolver offers more detail.) Janus sings about suicidal thoughts, about drinking and drugging oneself into oblivion, and on the album’s most surprising song, about mania as a force exerting a lycanthropic transformation on her. “Mania” features extraordinarily vivid lyrics, supported by Huntress‘s most steamrolleringly heavy music ever. At nearly nine minutes, the song serves as a bridge between Static‘s two halves, while also showcasing the band’s ever-increasing instrumental power.The album’s second half is a little more escapist, returning to the occult, science fiction and fantasy lyrical tropes of previous releases. “Harsh Times On Planet Stoked” sounds like a lost Rob Zombie title, and “Static” is social commentary disguised as a monster story. But the feeling that all these songs are deeply personal for Janus is inescapable. That’s not the direction many would have predicted for Huntress after hearing either of their first two albums, but it’s a welcome and impressive evolution. They’ve always been good, but with Static, they’ve become really good.—Phil Freeman
The band’s music started out as a mix of thrash and old-school trad/power metal. Janus is a theatrical vocalist with a wide range, capable of almost operatic singing in the vein of Judas Priest‘s Rob Halford, Iron Maiden‘s Bruce Dickinson, or Ronnie James Dio, but she didn’t fully exploit it on the band’s early recordings. On Spell Eater, she frequently employed a hoarse, witchy screech strongly reminiscent of Nicole Lee, frontwoman of cult ’80s thrashers Znöwhite; it was a style some listeners found off-putting. It meshed relatively well with the thrash/death riffing the band was pumping out at the time, though. Huntress toured hard in search of an audience; I saw them open for DragonForce, and Janus was a stiff, awkward presence, strutting back and forth and frequently ducking behind the amps during guitar solos.
Starbound Beast was a more confident and musically ambitious effort. It included an instrumental intro and songs that had real, memorable melodies and choruses; ended with a capable cover of Judas Priest‘s “Running Wild”; and Motörhead‘s Lemmy contributed lyrics to “I Want to Fuck You to Death.” Janus was synthesizing the various elements of her style into a multifaceted but unified voice, emphasizing her singing over her shrieks, and becoming a better live performer, too. I saw them again, this time opening for Killswitch Engage, and she engaged the crowd much more capably, striking fewer gawky poses and delivering the songs with authority. Lyrically, she moved beyond the fantasy-metal tropes of the debut, seeming to hint at realism, if not autobiography.
Static, out this week (get it from Amazon), is the biggest step forward yet for Huntress. In every respect, it’s a more accomplished and focused album than its two predecessors. The band have stripped down their style, largely abandoning the thrash/death metal of the debut and going classicist/’80s instead. The intro to the first single, “Flesh,” nods to Slash‘s playing with Guns N’ Roses, while “Mania” could easily have fit on a pre-British Steel Judas Priest album; actually, its main riff sounds ripped from Black Sabbath circa Sabotage. Lead guitarist and founding member Blake Meahl‘s solos are showy without being absurd or overtaking the song, and rhythm guitarist Eli Santana and drummer Tyler Meahl (new additions to the group) are fluent in a variety of styles, from doom to the almost punky hard rock of “I Want to Wanna Wake Up,” while avoiding a trying-on-hats feel. All these songs sound like Huntress songs, not like covers or style-pastiches.
Lyrically, Janus has shifted gears in a big way, too. On Spell Eater and Starbound Beast, as their titles likely indicate, she mostly kept things in the realm of fantasy, singing about witches and spells and monsters, and dealing with life through metaphor (a tactic with a long history in metal, going back at least as far as Ronnie James Dio). The first five songs on Static—”Sorrow,” “Flesh,” “Brian,” “I Want to Wanna Wake Up,” and “Mania”—make up a kind of suite, in which the lyrics reflect very real, autobiographical pain. (This interview with Revolver offers more detail.) Janus sings about suicidal thoughts, about drinking and drugging oneself into oblivion, and on the album’s most surprising song, about mania as a force exerting a lycanthropic transformation on her. “Mania” features extraordinarily vivid lyrics, supported by Huntress‘s most steamrolleringly heavy music ever. At nearly nine minutes, the song serves as a bridge between Static‘s two halves, while also showcasing the band’s ever-increasing instrumental power.
The album’s second half is a little more escapist, returning to the occult, science fiction and fantasy lyrical tropes of previous releases. “Harsh Times On Planet Stoked” sounds like a lost Rob Zombie title, and “Static” is social commentary disguised as a monster story. But the feeling that all these songs are deeply personal for Janus is inescapable. That’s not the direction many would have predicted for Huntress after hearing either of their first two albums, but it’s a welcome and impressive evolution. They’ve always been good, but with Static, they’ve become really good.
—Phil Freeman
― Trump's Gaz Coombesover (Cosmic Slop), Monday, 14 December 2015 13:27 (eight years ago) link