Become Death The Destroyer

The acoustic guitar introduction to “All Bridges Burned” lasts...

Tue, 07 May 2013 22:06:34 -0600

The acoustic guitar introduction to “All Bridges Burned” lasts just long enough for you to anticipate the addition of wintry synthesizers and ghastly field recordings. After all, the first 13 minutes of Withdrawal, the excellent new album by Brooklyn-via-Philadelphia black metal quartet Woe, are a torrent of animosity and unrest, with little relief intended or available. Opener “This is the End of the Story” is a six-minute span of negativity, every bit as dense as its title suggests. Its chaser, “Carried by Waves to Remorseless Shores of the Truth”, might be a stronger swill still, especially with frontman Chris Grigg groaning at the beginning as though he’s actually been washed to the wrong side of the Styx. This is battering and unfettered stuff, so it would seem logical for Woe to reveal a rest area. They do, but it lasts only as long as those 25 seconds of gentle, dulcet picking. Rather than indulge in atmosphere like many of their more ornate USBM peers, Woe simply counts off the beat and rips into a blitz once again. Call it a feint, a bait-and-switch or a tease if you must; just try and avoid whiplash if you can.

Most of Withdrawal flashes by with that same sense of determination, as though Woe are incapable of slowing down, of letting their fury smolder just long enough to glimpse it from above. Neither Grigg nor second guitarist Ben Brand take excessive solos, while the rhythm section of drummer Ruston Grosse and bassist Grzesiek Czapla stays decidedly on task, embedding their intricacies deep within these seven surges rather than apart from them. Perhaps that marked urgency is due to the feeling that Woe has to make up some time.

To wit, Grigg has written and recorded as Woe for six years now, first as a one-man-metal band and, on 2010’s Candlelight Records debut Quietly, Undramatically, with a quartet. The transition wasn’t a good one. Though Quietly, Undramatically had spans of promise, it also felt undecided, as though Grigg was trying to figure out how to use a full band now that he actually had one. Various lulls and tangents made it seem that Grigg was intimidated by the addition of this outfit, as though he were trying to push his music outward simply because now he could.

Consider the lost time salvaged, then: Withdrawal is an unforgiving record with an unbroken focus. These seven songs mostly stop only when they’re over. As a lyricist, Grigg erects a bleak, withering kingdom, where cities flood with poison, nihilism is a sharable confection, and, romantically, “the sum of virtue is rot.” Woe take these words as roadmaps, using them as the impetus for music that races ahead as though the end of the world is not only preordained but imminent. “Ceaseless Jaws”, for instance, concerns the fall of pride and, namely, the end of a relationship; the band plays like there’s little left to lose, waves of interwoven guitar cresting and slinking and wrapping through drums that move from heavy to heavier, with bass filling any open air with an intentionally muddy tone. The band pauses for 16 seconds at the song’s center, but that brief guitar miniature mostly underlines the heaviness of the entire trek.

This directness shouldn’t be mistaken as simplicity or, worse, historical facsimile. (We’d hate to disappoint our metallectual friends, you know.) It’s just that the intricacy of Woe’s music— and there’s plenty of it— doesn’t interfere with its immediacy. The brilliant “Song of My Undoing” begins with the sort of big, ebullient crossover blast that you might expect on recent Darkthrone albums. During these seven minutes, though, Czapla, who sings quite a bit here, counters the surge with a hook so soft it sounds like Alcest. Both parts serve as twin springboards into the song’s back half, when the thickness of those vocals and the wallop of the punk’n’roll funnel into a crucible of hardcore, black metal, and thrash. During “Carried by Waves”, Grigg races forward from the record’s most acrobatic solo with a rant-sized verse delivered with such gusto that it feels like a chorus— something you memorized and wait for when you listen back. It’s an ingenious way to drop a hook into a song where the tide seems much too troubled for such.

Within the United States black metal scene, Woe has peers that are certainly fancier— ones with longer, grander compositions that twist and stretch and spiral, and those that reach far outside of traditional guitars-drums-bass configurations to make their cases. But on Withdrawal, one of the young year’s most irrepressible and energized metal records, Woe plays with an urgency that suggests they have a chip on their collective shoulder and a point to prove. After Quietly, Undramatically, after all, Grigg recruited an almost entirely new lineup for Woe. Perhaps that’s why this quartet plays with such tenacity and economy. It’s hard to fire people doing their jobs this unabashedly well.

- Pitchfork

Internet platforms aren’t genres, and maybe it’s...

Tue, 07 May 2013 22:02:35 -0600

Internet platforms aren’t genres, and maybe it’s time to call a moratorium on treating them like they are. In 2006, when Charlotte Aitchison turned 14, she started recording a later-shelved album she has more recently disowned as “fucking terrible MySpace music.” Now, almost seven years later, her proper debut album as Charli XCX can hardly avoid comparisons to Tumblr, from fans and detractors alike.

A simple misreading of the UK singer and songwriter’s biggest hit might explain this focus on technology-based shorthand. Swedish electro-pop duo Icona Pop’s 2012 global smash “I Love It”, co-written by Charli XCX but not on True Romance, emphasizes a generational divide: “You’re from the 70s/ And I’m a 90s bitch.” Sure, Aitchison was born in 1992, but her use of social-media formats also long frequented by droves of people born in the 1970s isn’t exactly remarkable in 2013. As that catchy kiss-off’s Republica-on-EDM wattage illuminates, Charli XCX is a would-be 90s pop star, too. And in only the best sense.

True Romance shares its title with an unbelievably well-cast 1993 movie written by Quentin Tarantino, who was reassembling cultural detritus way before mash-ups and microblogging. Charli XCX’s approach to pop is similarly postmodern (how 90s does that sound?), pulling from moody 80s synth-pop, sassy turn-of-the-millennium girl groups, and state-of-the-art contemporary producers to create something distinctive and immediately memorable. She clearly understands the internet, having shared two original mixtapes and two influences mixtapes before her official full-length, but this carefully pruned set is no data dump. And there you’ll see a glimmer of True Romance’s most throwback aspect: its evident pop ambition, an overriding sense of an imagined mass audience for music that’s radio-ready yet outsider-friendly. It’s almost like Napster— and the filler-crammed album sales model that preceded it— never happened.

In fact, by the time Charli XCX was a teenage electro-house devotee, illegal file-sharing’s early free-for-all had already given way to iTunes and other legal download services. Robyn had already released her self-titled comeback album. So it might be only natural that Charli XCX would keep the pre-bubble faith that people will pay for emotionally direct, bubblegum-catchy, yet stubbornly left-of-center songs about falling in and out of love. But the generous hooks on the previously released singles here, such as the gospel-kissed prechorus of the yearning “Stay Away” or the Santigold-savvy lilt of love-and-the-bomb brooder “Nuclear Seasons”, are extraordinarily welcome just the same. Even better are newer singles such as the gorgeously bitter “You (Ha Ha Ha)”, which inhabits its cloud-rappy Gold Panda sample like they were made for each other, and the almost-as-gorgeously blissful “What I Like”, which recounts a still-young relationship with the cheeky frankness of Lily Allen or the Streets, and the sing-songy near-rapping of the Spice Girls.

The several songs on True Romance that hadn’t previously surfaced in videos or other releases aren’t quite as strong, but they’re effective enough to suggest Charli XCX’s best work might still be ahead of her. The Todd Rundgren-sampling “So Far Away”, with the sun-dappled lushness of the Avalanches, is a clear highlight; Charli XCX’s vocals are usually plain-spoken, but the anguished break-up plea “Set Me Free” proves she can reach for Jessie Ware-like dramatics when appropriate. The pitch-shifting “no one is forever” intro added at the start of opener “Nuclear Seasons” probably should’ve been given its own track— and later on the album it is, when the same backing vocal forms the base of the cloudy, broken-hearted “Grins”. Elsewhere, the haunted confession “How Can I”, while solid enough, is a reminder that Charli XCX’s lyrics so far tend to fall relatively flat; when, on swooning finale “Lock You Up”, she sings, “It hits me like a ton of bricks,” she leaves the cliché untweaked.

And then there’s “Cloud Aura”, a lovelorn, engagingly laid-back bit of groove that lets Grimes’ “Genesis” video co-star Brooke Candy rap horribly about Chris Brown. Candy’s guest verse previously appeared on 2012’s uneven Super Ultra mixtape, and it was near-universally panned. It isn’t any better now. But in an era when too many up-and-comers are all too eager to please, this stubborn refusal to back down displays another quality in short supply: genuine irreverence. The songwriting and production credits on True Romance include Usher’s “Climax” co-conspirator Ariel Rechtshaid and “I Love It” collaborator Patrick Berger, among others, who also share some credit (and blame). But like 90s pop stars turned 10s pop sophisticates Justin Timberlake and Beyoncé, Charli XCX stamps her personality across the entire project, and True Romance suggests she’ll be worth following for a while. On Tumblr, Instagram, and whatever comes next, sure, but musically most of all.

- Pitchfork

In a way, 2010’s Strange Weather, Isn’t It? was !!!’s...

Tue, 07 May 2013 21:55:00 -0600

In a way, 2010’s Strange Weather, Isn’t It? was !!!’s coming-out party. After serving the dance-punk underground funked-up electronic jams with a wink ever since 2003’s excellent “Me And Giuliani Down By The School Yard (A True Story),” the Brooklyn sextet beefed up its beats and waved its disco flag with pride on its fourth album. On the fifth, Thr!!!er, !!! (still pronounced “chk chk chk”) shakes its groove things like it just stumbled on the secret to dance-floor happiness.

From the start, !!! wasn’t out to revolutionize dance-punk, though it was, along with LCD Soundsystem and The Rapture, one of the first groups to revitalize the mostly forgotten post-punk offshoot at the turn of the millennium. The group falls somewhere between its two contemporaries—way more committed to sound and style than The Rapture, who seem to average one great song per album, but not nearly as consistent as LCD, whose three albums rank among the decade’s best.

Their aspirations are no higher on Thr!!!er, a groove-heavy cool-club record that never takes on more than it can handle. With most songs clocking in at about four minutes, it doesn’t waste too much time setting up or coming down; tracks hit the dance floor somewhere near top speed and end roughly around the same pace. It takes less than 10 seconds of the opening song, “Even When The Water’s Cold,” for a vocal to show up. That’s pretty efficient.

But that efficiency doesn’t leave much room for the push-pull release typically found in the best dance music. There aren’t too many curveballs on Thr!!!er. Besides the occasional falsetto, stray handclap, or wah-wah synth, almost everything here can be taken on face value. And sometimes it works magnificently, like on “Slyd,” which borrows its springy bassline from Chic, and on “One Girl/One Boy,” which features a hook sung by Sonia Moore, who pulled similar duty on MC Hammer’s “Too Legit To Quit.” But mostly it’s a passable dance hybrid climbing out of the underground and inching toward the mainstream, one wink at a time.

- The AV Club

Given its title — and that I wrote a travel collection...

Mon, 25 Mar 2013 14:28:03 -0600

Given its title — and that I wrote a travel collection called Postcards From Elsewhere — how could we not be interested in this textured, electronica-cum-ambient outing from New Zealand’s Sheehan? And here he brings a real human warmth and some fascinating musical references from a wide palette to this, his first full length album since Standing in Silence about four years ago.

This is very different from Standing in Silence in that here he works with real instruments and musician who include Jeff Boyle from Jakob, Andy Hummel (Rosy Tin Teacaddy), Steve Bremner (The Adults), Raashi Malik (Rhombus) and Ryan Prebble (The Nudge).

Most tellingly too are members of the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra string section who must have felt right at home when their contribution erred towards the late Romantics and the evocative soundscapes of Delius and Vaughan Williams. Not that these are direct influences, but their ethos of naturalism is certainly evoked in some glorious passages here where you can imagine William Turner clouds above a vast landscape (La Boite a Musique).

There’s also a playful quality at work too: the surface noise and use of a child’s instrument on the cheerful Little Sines and the cheap computer sound of Nocture 1985 where old school electronics finds its place within a piece which tickles along on repeated figures and astral blips and swathes.

Kieran_Rynhart_crop.1Creation Myths seems to invite in Asian elements (sounding like some $2 electronic version of the sound of a Japanese koto which gets increasingly distorted) and at times you sense a refreshing child-like wonder at the sounds possible from low-rent or lo-fi equipment (an impression enhanced by the cover art by Kieran Ryhart who clearly has a career in childrens’ book illustration).

So here are gentle floating pieces (A Thimble of Sorrow) morphing into evocative pieces which seem to have origins in wide-screen soundtracks (Nusquam is a cinematice string piece with melancholy undertones). And Fripp-Eno ambience co-exists easily with free-from-gravity passages of subtle beauty (Somnus floats in space but takes you perilously close to the capsule-melting sun at the end).

All these elements ease together into a rich, headphones-on whole and with subtle elelctrobleeps, this manage that rare feat of canny welcome-to-my-world humour while taking you on a long trip with many, various and often sublime digressions.

- Elsewhere

Youth Lagoon - Wondrous Bughouse Trevor Powers doesn’t...

Mon, 11 Mar 2013 17:44:09 -0600

Youth Lagoon - Wondrous Bughouse

Trevor Powers doesn’t come off as older and wiser than his 23 years: just look at any picture of him, with his slight build and cherubic mop of curls, or take one listen to his nasal, keening voice. Likewise, his heartfelt 2011 debut The Year of Hibernation dealt more in truth and honesty than profundity or authority, skirting cliché while affecting people in meaningful ways. These qualities are about the only things that haven’t changed for Youth Lagoon on Wondrous Bughouse. This record broadens Powers’ musical and lyrical scope into something universal in a literal and figurative sense, evoking the cosmos, heaven, and hell. But Powers sounds curious and awestruck rather than naïve, someone who explores this lush and frightening soundworld instead of explaining it.

The cosmetic changes are obvious. If you’ve been paying attention to sonics over the past couple of years, you’ll recognize the saturated, bottom-heavy production as that of Ben H. Allen. After hearing Allen give a subwoofer shape-up to previously brittle bands like Deerhunter, Animal Collective, and Washed Out, the pairing seems almost inevitable. But while the production is an upgrade, the real growth is thematic. Hibernation obsessed over escape and became defined by its limitations, whether it was its meager recording budget or just the sense that Powers felt trapped by his surroundings in Boise. But Bughouse looks inward and discovers the endless possibilities of imagination and introspection.

Youth Lagoon is still very much an internally-focused project and, with its abundance of effect pedals and stereo panning tricks, Wondrous Bughouse will likely be branded as a headphones album. Don’t believe it. As with Hibernation, this is a record that’s meant to be cranked as loud as possible; for one, volume decompresses these thick songs, amplifying the crucial addition of live drums on “Raspberry Cane” and “Mute”. More importantly, Wondrous Bughouse needs room to breathe from a songwriting standpoint. With Powers’ lyrics and Allen’s production striving to create a celestial whole, Bughouse is meant to conjure infinite space.

This much is conveyed by the sonar blips that take up the three-minute opener “Through Mind and Back” before fading into the spellbinding “Mute”. Nearly every song on Hibernation began quietly, so it’s jarring to hear Youth Lagoon take a more widescreen turn— echoing drums, gleaming peals of delayed guitar, all washed by ocean spray reverb. This lasts for one minute before a detuned loop of bells recasts “Mute” as a juggernaut, a steady, booming drum beat framing a strident vocal performance from Powers, a guitar solo that recalls Doug Martsch’s expressive, longing leads, a minor-key piano loop that appears ready to take the song to a completely different plateau before cruelly cutting out.

These songs are all bigger and bolder without being unnecessarily complicated. While Powers’ melodies are simple and immediately memorable like nursery rhymes, everything surrounding him is in flux. The songs on Wondrous Bughouse are continually subjected to flange and phase effects, and it’s not the gentle, headswimming “whoosh” that typified recent records such as Lonerism or mbv. The cranked oscillation gives these songs a proper sense of danger and hyper-alertness. The combination of the processing and Powers’ devious lyrics (“‘I won’t die easily’/ That’s what they say when I erupt into laughter”) gives the calliope-like melody of “Attic Doctor” a fitting, monstrous overtone. The synth progression that emerges during the anthropomorphic grotesquerie “Pelican Man” would be a perfect evocation of Elephant 6’s Beatles obsession, but the pulsing modulations turn into something closer to slasher-flick fare.

It’s often scary stuff, more reminiscent of Syd Barrett’s bad-trip fairy tales. Though Powers isn’t dealing with death in a manner that conveys gravitas or experience, Wondrous Bughouse is very much about mortality, albeit filtered through surrealism, parable, and metaphor. Rather than a simple longing for the past, Powers feels obsessed with human frailty and decay. Similarly, the songs of Bughouse aren’t subject to tangents so much as following a dream logic working where any thought, regardless of how awesome or fearsome it is, doesn’t end until it reaches a conclusion it sees fit.

Powers’ choice to write most of these fanciful flights in waltz time gives everything a properly anachronistic feel. The hopscotch melody on “Dropla” makes it sound like a playground chant and the lyrics see its narrator dealing with death in a selfish, forgivably childlike way, hanging on to faint hope (“you’ll never die, you’ll never die”) and lashing out when the prayers go unanswered (“you weren’t there when I needed”). Between the threatening taunts of “Attic Doctor”, we hear vast stretches of music for the Peanuts gang to ice skate to: “Third Dystopia” refracts a sea shanty through multiple funhouse mirrors; the submerged second half of “The Bath” places Powers somewhere between a baptism and a drowning. On “Raspberry Cane”, Powers sees himself as irredeemable (“I’m polluted by my blood/ So help me cut it out and rinse it down the drain”) and while closer “Daisyphobia” views humanity as “mortals on the run” from an all-seeing God, Wondrous Bughouse slinks towards an disturbing and unresolved conclusion, a slow fade of distant synth whinnies and stumbling, inexact beats.

Though unnerving, it is familiar, albeit in a style of indie rock that was prominent when Powers was, by his own admission, listening to Bad Boy records Allen might’ve played a part in. Think of the Flaming Lips, Mercury Rev, Grandaddy, Sparklehorse, Modest Mouse, Built To Spill, all bands who in some way combined a projected naivety with grand designs: adolescent vocals picking at metaphysical mysteries, an insatiable curiosity with the capabilities of the studio. But Youth Lagoon is also a spiritual progeny in terms of geography. All these bands emerged far from media centers— Oklahoma City, upstate New York, Modesto, central Virginia, Issaquah, Wash., and of course, Powers’ own Boise. Listeners often try to discern something special about creating art in places like these, whether the scarcity of live shows and bands makes music more important or a lack of urban stimuli allows for deeper meditation on the big picture. Though the songs themselves are wonderful, that’s the powerful source Powers taps into here: if you feel like the dark center of the universe or simply need a little space, Wondrous Bughouse obliges.

- Pitchfork

Braid/Balance and Composure Split The trend forming in tours...

Mon, 11 Mar 2013 12:30:22 -0600

Braid/Balance and Composure Split

The trend forming in tours and releases these days of older, legendary bands of influence pairing up with their younger peers seems to be a win-win concept. Solidarity across scene history is formed, exposure of older fans to new music is encouraged, as well younger fans finding a gateway to being doing their homework in the family tree of alternative music. This month, Braid has partnered up with contemporary powerhouse Balance & Composure to release a split featuring two new songs from each of the bands, both who have gone several-to-many years without releasing a proper and whose fans are undeniably eager to hear something sonically new.

Braid’s contribution to the split begins with “Lux,” a trotting, fast-paced song that inspires an approving toe tap, yet never gets too ahead of itself. The entrance of time-signature breakaways that Braid has made notorious are not in short supply, either, as the song careens forward with winding vocal melodies weaving themselves into the fabric of the track. The guitar work is wiry and continues to carry the momentum until a series of fun, repeated vocal lines take over to close out the song with an escalating punch. The second song, “Many Enemies,” sounds like it could almost be a B-side from a Weakerthans record, with Chris Broach taking over for lead vocals and sounding suspiciously similar to John K. Samson.

The song structure is considerably more straightforward here, again reaching a point of escalation to close out the song with bouts of dissonant-sounding guitar and shouted vocal deliveries: “This is my city!” is the declarative cry. Braid certainly still knows how to write a fun, animated guitar riff and get their listeners heads’ tilted in interest, but some of the emotional drive that populated their releases of yore seems to be missing from the fold in this split. Regardless, it’s encouraging to see the resurrection of a band that holds so much influence over (deep breath) “emo” music, and these songs certainly have enough accessibility to them to open the door to past material for any younger listeners who may be interested.

Balance & Composure’s work for the split is undeniably darker and completely switches gears from the rollicking tone of Braid’s songs, as well as their first cohesive output since 2011’s Separation. The first song, “You Can’t Fix Me,” is bookended with excellence, opening with reverb-heavy kick and closing with a powerful coda and Simmons’ signature strained vocal cries. However, the bulk of the song seems to be fairly unfocused, lacking a strong refrain and never seeming to find its footing in terms of a palpable, graspable melody. The melancholy typical of Balance & Composure’s style is still present on both the tracks, but it’s far less formidable. “Say” exhibits a haunting back-and-forth vocal melody and is generally more entrancing, but the song still feels amorphous and too polished; kind of like taking a leisurely stroll through a garden instead of the intensity that would come from being chased down in one. The songs are clearly well-crafted and exhibit somewhat of a growth from past material, which, generally speaking is a good thing; however, the grit and rock-heavy foundation that made past Balance & Composure songs so intimidating just isn’t present.

- Property of Zack

Summer of Haze - ∞ Screwee► Smok▲ ∞

Sun, 10 Mar 2013 13:30:29 -0600

Summer of Haze - ∞ Screwee► Smok▲ ∞

Ghosts - WLVS Dublin’s haunted 2-step duo Ghosts appeared on...

Sat, 09 Mar 2013 12:30:10 -0700

Ghosts - WLVS

Dublin’s haunted 2-step duo Ghosts appeared on the bass music radar in 2011 and 2012 with three self-released EPs. Their debut, Doxology, announced a fresh and experimental new voice, taking the 2-step template and building in metahuman, FX-drenched vocals. Sparse and beautiful, tracks like Isn’t It Funny, How I Knew and the luscious Open Your Eyes suggested a band with a firm grip on modern bass music, and a soulful, reflective approach to songwriting. The next EP, NIGHT, was an exercise in sparse, post-dubstep beats, timestretched vocal snippets and atmospheric field recordings, telling the story of a night on the tiles. Third EP Judge saw them embraced by the witch house/dark electronic community online, with the melancholic likes of It Still Hurts, the cold, Konami-sampling Sniper Wolf and the brooding, elegiac atmospherics of Grief and Sleep hitting all the correct pitch-black notes.

Back for 2013 with a new 4-track EP, to be released on vinyl and digital by Belfast’s Champion Sound, the pair are showcasing a much tougher, more upfront style. Title-track WLVS ups the tempo to the upper reaches of dubstep, clocking in at around 140 bpm and breaking from 2-step into pushing, hard-edged four-to-the-floor. The vocal, swathed in mechanical reverb and pushed back in the mix, is sexy and dark, conjuring images of hard gazes and harsh looks across smoke-filled, twilit dancefloors.

Escort Service maintains the uptempo pace and dark feel with clattering 2-step beats and interlocking, grime-influenced synth patterns, before dropping into a claustrophobic half-step breakdown. The City features dreamy, ethereal electronic shoegaze vocals, and is more familiar territory for fans of the early EPs – the exquisite, shimmering melodic progressions creating an emotional, spellbinding downtempo track. The utterly hypnotic Not Now My Love closes the EP in grand style, with the tempo pushed back to 140 bpm, and chopped, processed, treated vocals haunting the stark, sultry darkness of the beats and synths.

WLVS confirms Ghosts as one of the most exciting things to happen to UK garage and bass music over the past few years, strengthening their growing reputation with an EP that both develops their sound, pushing it forward, while simultaneously breaking new ground with their unique brand of dark, spectral bass. Combining strong songwriting with increasingly immaculate production, this is one to grab on vinyl, and leave at the front of the record bag.

- Future Astronauts

Nails - Abandon All Life As fans of heavy music, most of us...

Fri, 08 Mar 2013 12:30:18 -0700

Nails - Abandon All Life

As fans of heavy music, most of us have at some point had to preface mentioning a band with “I don’t know if you’re into this sort of thing, but…” This is a fact of life when discussing virtually any heavy or extreme music, but perhaps never more so than when discussing Nails. The American hardcore band has carved a niche for themselves by being as far from easy listening as one can possibly get, and their knack for unbridled misanthropy has reached new heights with the creation of Abandon All Life, their latest full-length.

Following up the aural assault that was Unsilent Death - Nails’ 15-minute maelstrom of an album from 2010 - Abandon All Life has expanded upon that formula to create a more evolved version of their unique brand of brash, noisy hardcore. While Unsilent Death only featured a single track longer than two minutes, Abandon All Life contains several lengthier tracks, and they use that extra length to create some truly impressive soundscapes.

Rarely does one find a band that can so effortlessly toggle between chaotic walls of blast-beat-supported noise and vast, rich sections of slow, sludgy guitar riffs. If you think Converge has the art of creating instantaneous chaos down to a science, you’ll be blown away by how deftly Nails manages a similar feat. Again, the nature of this dichotomy, and the narratives it allows Nails to construct within their songs, is greatly aided by their new-found penchant for longer tracks. Some may see this as straying from their grindcore-infused roots, but there’s no denying it helps them flesh out their structure and atmosphere in a big way.

Over the course of its ten tracks, Abandon All Life provides a roller coaster ride of dynamics and energy. From the relentless force of songs like “No Surrender” and the album’s title track, to the dark, ominous breakdowns on tracks like “God’s Cold Hands,” there’s very little about this album that will be predictable to most listeners. On the other hand, it’s not an album that makes too many attempts to hide its influences; this is unmistakably the product of the last couple decades of hardcore, grindcore and powerviolence, and it bears the marks of its forebears with pride.

At the end of the day, there’s very few reasons to miss out on this album if you’re a fan of the darker, heavier, dirtier side of modern hardcore. It wouldn’t be a stretch to accuse Nails of being deliberately obtuse at times, and there’s certainly some signs of this being an album that is inaccessible because its creators like it that way, but such intentions may well have aided in creating the unique beast that is Abandon All Life. Past the veneer of chaos and crushing heaviness that this album presents, there’s a whole lot of interesting stuff going on under the surface. Give it at least a couple listens before you dismiss it.

- Dying Scene

The Haxan Cloak - Excavation In 2011 with the release of his...

Thu, 07 Mar 2013 12:30:00 -0700

The Haxan Cloak - Excavation

In 2011 with the release of his debut, self titled album, The Haxan Cloak, solo project of multi instrumentalist, Bobby Krlic, appeared seemingly out of nowhere with an impressively fully formed sound that blew away most anyone who heard it. Recorded over the space of 3 years The Haxan Cloak was a wildly ambitious fusion of malevolent strings, junkyard found-sounds and primitive percussion, Krlic’s grand ambitions transcending the fact that it was all recorded in a shed at the bottom of Krlic’s parent’s home in Wakefield, Yorkshire. In the two years since the release of his debut, Krlic relocated to London and began working on it’s epic follow up, and Tri Angle Records debut; Excavation

Bolstered by the concept he was developing for his follow up and a desire to challenge himself into new terrains, Krlic has evolved his sound to incorporate more of his electronic influences. The result is an album awash with serrated beats and cavernous sub-bass, meshing with the classical drones and ghostly details The Haxan Cloak fans will have already been accustomed to. Excavation finds Krlic confidently adopting a more minimalist approach to his compositions, experimenting with space and silence without forsaking any of the intensity that made his debut such a powerful statement of intent.

If The Haxan Cloak was conceived as the soundtrack to a character’s journey towards death, Excavation is its sequel representing the journey after death. Excavation is about disconnecting entirely from this and entering upon a more astral plane, explaining some of the albums more ethereal, ambient moments that are in constant tension with jagged and aggressive elements. This journey isn’t supposed to represent an archetypal Heaven or Hell scenario, but something more abstract and unknowable; the abstraction of the situation being one of its most unsettling aspects. Excavation is another uncompromising, incredibly personal record from an artist who is continuing to operate very much within his own world.

- TRI▼ANGLE

Ólafur Arnalds - For Now I Am Winter There’s always a worry...

Wed, 06 Mar 2013 12:30:10 -0700

Ólafur Arnalds - For Now I Am Winter

There’s always a worry when artists who specialise in instrumental music decide to record an album that features vocals. Maybe it is partly fear of the unknown (ie. what form the voice will take) or just a nagging concern that what follows might dilute or sully their former work. In more cases than not it seems to result in albums that get pushed to one side and quietly overlooked rather than embraced wholeheartedly in the way their earlier albums do.

On his latest release For Now I Am Winter however Icelandic musician Ólafur Arnalds fares much better than most. It very much confirms him to be representative of the modern composer-musician – extremely prolific (this is his third full length album to go with the five EPs and three film scores that he has already released) and also with a seemingly insuppressible interest in artistic collaboration and expansion of musical horizons.

It also sees a change in record label for him, moving from Erased Tapes to Mercury Classics (a conscious decision linked to the change in style).

To date, arguably his greatest achievement has been …And They Have Escaped The Weight Of Darkness, his 2010 breakthrough album that propelled him to the forefront of the modern classical movement. It is quite possible however that For Now I Am Winter will eventually be viewed in similar terms.

It gets off to an attention-grabbing start with opening instrumental duo Sudden Throw and Brim. The former is as elegant as anything he’s released so far, while the latter is embellished with electronically generated beats that reappear throughout the album (although overall he doesn’t quite make as much of them as he could have done). It’s almost as if he wants to allow the listener time to settle in to the album before introducing the vocals, which are provided by Agent Fresco singer Arnór Dan Arnarson (who he worked with on Ryuichi Sakamoto’s Japanese tsunami benefit project).

They arrive in the shivering beauty of the title track and the melting-ice purity of A Stutter. Sung exclusively in English and, set against the orchestral backdrop, they recall fellow Scandinavians Efterklang. Arnason’s voice also shares the fragility of that belonging to Sigur Rós frontman Jónsi Birgisson, and there are valid musical comparisons to be made also. Many tracks have an orchestral swell not dissimilar to that found in Sigur Rós’ music, maybe not that of their ‘prime’ period but certainly in line with last year’s restrained and muted Valtari. The engulfed drama of Only The Winds and This Place Was A Shelter provide two of the more animated moments on the album.

Sometimes the sound can appear overly clean, but on the whole Arnalds makes intelligent, informed decisions on the musical options available to him (particularly well illustrated by the tidal pull of the strings and brass found on Reclaim).

It almost feels superfluous to remark on the quality of the arrangements and musicianship on display as these are areas he has always excelled in, but For Now I Am Winter sounds like an album that will eventually be viewed as a important Ólafur Arnalds release, the moment where a self-confident artist took the first step towards something more open and accessible.

- musicOMH

Autre Ne Veut - Play By Play In a recent interview, Arthur...

Tue, 05 Mar 2013 21:13:51 -0700

Autre Ne Veut - Play By Play

In a recent interview, Arthur Ashin, the man behind the avant-pop, R&B bending Autre Ne Veut remarked, “I like the idea of being able to fuck with expectations, and for the music to be a Rorschach test, in a way.” This notion of the ability of music to mold to our interpretations and flourish within the boundaries of our mind, is a prominent feature of Ashin’s second full-length effort as Autre Ne Veut, the sterling and disorienting Anxiety.

Opening track, “Play by Play,” begins with a series of electronic flourishes, the equivalent of pulling back a curtain of beads, and entering into the room that lies beyond. This room seems small at first, a closet with only Ashin’s voice and a rhythmic ringing in the distance. “I don’t wanna be there tonight / you make me low / you make me crawl / and make me harder,” croons Ashin in the sonic calm before the storm. The lyric seems to point to an indictment of a former lover, one that he realizes he is better off without. However, as with nearly all of Anxiety, nothing is what it seems. Over the course of this five minute opus, the track’s simplistic origins expand into a cacophony of disparate sounds encompassing synthesizers, church bells, and a female voice that intertwines with Ashin’s and implores him to never leave her. Somehow, all the sounds coagulate into an addictive melody, and she gets the last word, leaving the prospect of reconciliation lingering.

More immediate than the previous song, “Counting” is saturated with sonic odds-and-ends ranging from tribal shouts and creaking doors, to rapid-fire synths. The only thread holding this dissonant patchwork of sounds together is Ashin’s airy, vulnerable falsetto. “I’m counting on the idea that you’ll stay,” he wails, in what seems like an attempt to prevent a lover from leaving. However, in one of the many twists within Anxiety, Ashin revealed that the song is much deeper, instead recounting his fear of losing his grandmother.

Fourth track, “Ego Free, Sex Free,” contains a chorus in which Ashin sings “Ego free, sex free / I can’t feel my body moving / Ego free, sex free / I can’t see your body, baby” over climaxing synthesizers and electric guitars, imbuing the track with a rhythmic magnetism that builds to create the most exhilarating moment on Anxiety. The meaning of the lyrics is a riddle, but one fundamental fact is clear, it feels good.

Autre Ne Veut Review: Autre Ne Veut Anxiety However, any musical momentum built up on “Ego Free, Sex Free,” evaporates on “A Lie,” the most restrained track on Anxiety utilizing little more than a guitar and falsetto. Despite being a welcome transition from the maximalist instrumentation of the first four tracks, it feels anticlimactic, wasting the energy built up on the previous track. “Gonna Die” is another slow jam that finds Ashin at his most frank and fatalistic. Over a funerary organ, he throws the strongest lyrical punch on Anxiety, crying “Oh I’m gonna die / and I’m feeling more accurately now than I have for a while.”

Ironically, Anxiety sounds lifeless after “Gonna Die.” The final three tracks blend into a miasma of falsetto and discordant instrumentation that passes by with little fanfare. Hopes are dashed when penultimate track “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” is not a Whitney Houston cover (which, in my opinion, Autre Ne Veut would have absolutely killed), but rather more of the same, this time over post-apocalyptic noises that could have made a cameo in something from Clams Casino. The final third of Anxiety is not necessarily bad; it simply lacks the luster to keep the listener’s attention.

Anxiety is an album littered with opuses. Each is a self-contained universe encapsulating whichever emotion it is assigned. No track has a clear meaning, and Anxiety truly does take on the form of a Rorschach test, becoming whatever the listener views it as. Between its heavy instrumentation and heavenly falsetto, it could be an ode to a lover or a resignation to heartbreak. From this versatility originates the power of Anxiety. It grows beyond its deeply emotional roots, to become whatever you want it to be. [B+]

- Pretty Much Amazing

Shlohmo - Laid Out In the two years since Shlohmo’s debut...

Tue, 05 Mar 2013 12:30:18 -0700

Shlohmo - Laid Out

In the two years since Shlohmo’s debut full-length, Bad Vibes, the Los Angeles native has gradually shifted from Brainfeeder-style beats toward the soulful sounds of post-dubstep. The result of Shlohmo’s ongoing appreciation for R&B, Laid Out is a melodic sub-bass endeavor. James Blake comparisons are unavoidable on opening track “Don’t Say No” (featuring How to Dress Well), but the EP’s five tracks draw as much from the West Coast bass culture and early dubstep as it does from today’s crop of UK-based crooners.

The emphasis for Shlohmo is no longer on breaking beats to create space, but how he can manipulate distorted vocals and a rhythmic midline around an ever-present deep bass rattle. Introduced on “Don’t Say No” and used extensively throughout the psych-trance ambiance of “Put It”, Shlohmo has made a production switch to trap-inspired hi-hat rolls. Whereas artists like Baauer and Flosstradamus have blown up by chop-and-screwing club bangers, Shlohmo intricately uses trap’s pervasive qualities to syncopate hazy bedroom productions. The whispers of “Out of Hand” arrive from an unintelligible void, but their tones when set atop an elongated bassline transform sub-frequencies into spine-tingling chills.

This digitized emotion pours through the purely instrumental “Without”. Borrowing heavily from early blues rock, the track seems to arrive from an improbable collaboration between Lunice, Eric Clapton, and Burial. Given trap’s current spike in popularity, it is promising to hear where artists are capable of pushing the genre.

Already garnering live support from fellow SoCal electronic artists, Laid Out is the work of an artist capable of adapting to new techniques without succumbing to label limitations — one of the inalienable freedoms established with his own Wedidit imprint.

- Consequence of Sound

Kavinsky - OutRun Vincent Belorgey, better known to a wider...

Mon, 04 Mar 2013 20:26:08 -0700

Kavinsky - OutRun

Vincent Belorgey, better known to a wider audience as Kavinsky, just released his long awaited album, Outrun. Kavinsky, a French born electro-pop producer, functions like many of the other popular French artists: he hasn’t released much material over the course of his career, but the quality of what has been released says a lot about the producer. After touring, remixing, and being compared to Justice, Daft Punk and SebastiAn, you’d think Kavinsky would fit in perfectly with the Ed Banger crew, but he holds his ground with label, Record Makers.

A lot of people know Kavinsky from his single, which became available in late 2012, “Nightcall”. The slow-moving, robotic sounding single was featured in Ryan Gosling’s Drive in 2011 and has since picked up speed and gradually gained a wider audience for the album. I must admit, “Nightcall” stands as one of the high points on the album, a tune that is hard not to sing-a-long to, but Outrun has many other notable tracks.

I find it ironic, or maybe fitting, that Kavinsky’s “Nightcall” was used in Gosling’s Drive because Outrun is the essential soundtrack to a late night car ride. There is no other album that fits so perfectly. Kavinsky’s alter-ego also participates in this car-driven fantasy. Kavinsky, at it’s basic, is a character name. His story is that after crashing his Ferrari Testarossa in 1986, he reappeared as a zombie in 2006 to make his own electronic music (via Kavinsky’s wiki, also explained in the opening track “Prelude”). The character that appears on album artwork and singles looks strikingly like Vincent himself, but he’s said in interview’s that it’s not him.

When listening to Outrun, it’s hard to deny the influence of 80s style electro-pop music. Almost the entire album is formatted around this sound. The opening track on the album is a narrated track that gives us the background information on Kavinsky’s origins. From there, we are presented with “Blizzard”, a track that is centered around a guitar lick melody and palm-muted sounds. The song harkens back to Justice‘s latest studio album Audio, Video, Disco, in an arena-rock fashion. But if you truly want to hear some straight up arena-rock that could be passed off as a legit Justice track, listen to “First Blood”. It reminds me of 80s hair-metal with a singer’s voice that soars high and low over the track and is supplemented by fierce guitar riffs tinged with electronic feedback.

“Protovision,” the second single after “Nightcall,” appeared on an EP with remixes released in early February. “Protovision” gives us more arena-rock guitars and composition while still grasping onto electronic sounds as a foundation. It serves as a solid track on the album; the melodies from the guitar are hard to let go of and the guitar solo is equally as good. Then you have a track like “Rampage”, the perfect sound track for a late night car chase. When I first listened to the album, I could have sworn that “Rampage” was a subdued remix or remake of Justice’s “Stress”. It sounds strikingly alike, but has its own Kavinsky feel.

Outrun features new and old tracks. ”Grand Canyon” and “Deadcruiser” appeared on Kavinsky’s 1986 EP, and “Testarossa Autodrive” appeared on his 2006 release, Teddy Boy. All three tracks fit perfectly on the album whether or not they’re old. ”Deadcruiser” reminds me of Com Truise: 80′s analog synths take control and give you a video game feeling. One of the more upbeat tracks, “Testarossa Autodrive,” keeps the album lively and is clearly influenced from early techno and perhaps even the legend himself, Mr. Oizo. If you’re looking for the harder tracks on the album, “Testarossa Autodrive” is one of them, but you can also find the same in “Deadcruiser” and more.

The real surprise on the album comes from the track “Suburbia”, an electro-hip-hop tune that features Havoc. The idea of mixing techno/electro-pop and hip-hop sounds like a terrible idea, but leave it to Kavinsky to make it just right. Havoc repeats the phrase “I Come To Life” harkening back the story of Kavinsky’s character after the car crash. Admittedly, it’s not my favorite track on the album, but still holds strong as a high point.

The last track on any album should be reserved for the most epic productions, and I think this stands for any genre of music. Kavinsky does just that on the closing number, “Endless”. Opening with just a few bleeps and bloops, the anonymous narrator comes back to give you closure on the story of Kavinsky:

“They say the flap of a butterflies wing can doom your fate, that the road sometimes takes back what it had given, that true love never dies…and now you know how the legend of the dead cruiser was born.”

After a couple of narrated lines, feedback soaked synths overwhelms the listener into a trance that is near impossible to escape (much like the fate of Kavinsky’s fictitious character in the car crash). The song continues on its slow-moving eletronic-tinged path towards an inevitable end. Then finally, the music slowly diminishes and the ominous narrator enters the track for a final closing statement.

“But what you don’t know is there is a gap between living and dying. Some say they’ve seen the dead cruiser in a flash of lightning or on the shadowy curves of the highway. Some say he was just a kid, who met his fate in a fiery crash. But anyone fool enough to venture out on to that treacherous road should know one thing…there’s no turning back…”

Whether or not you hear it, the French artist Kavinsky is channeling some seriously great music into this album. The long awaited debut is not something you listen to in bits and pieces, it must be listened to in its entirety because the album tells an awesome story. Kavinsky leaves his mark on electronic music with an album that will never die, just like the dead cruiser.

- The Dankles

Asa & Stumbleine - Your Secret Stumbleine’s most recent...

Mon, 04 Mar 2013 20:05:00 -0700

Asa & Stumbleine - Your Secret

Stumbleine’s most recent outing sees him team up with fellow producer Asa for the collaborative EP – Your Secret. It’s a hazy, dream like record that combines Stumbleine’s shoegazer guitar washes with Asa’s garage 2-step drums to sublime effect. Both of the producers have built a successful sound, with past releases, in their own niche, but they really do complement each other when they come together in this release.

The EP has a lot of open space throughout its 5 tracks; real soundscapes, although you might not expect to find such sonic grandeur in artists clumped into this chilled out dubstep/garage- style hybrid. That’s something I’ve always loved about Stumbleine though – even though he’s fundamentally an electronic artist, he has this raw energy constantly driving his music, in the form of his guitar; this is the addictive element that keeps me coming back to his small, but rich catalogue. Just listen to ‘Aliceband’ and see what I mean. Combine this with Asa’s intricately arranged drum patterns you get something special.

Asa’s signature drums break through on Vapour, with the sound of an old plate camera’s bulb piercing through the mix like a distant echoe of the past flashing before your eyes. The track then dissipates into some ethereal, ambient land where Stumbleine’s guitar plays away in the distance and hushed voices sing just out of ear-shot.

The second track fades in with more of Stumbleine’s warm haze. This flows through the track (and whole EP) like blood through the body – keeping it alive.

The gentle and melancholic vocals of Shura & CoMa drift in on ‘Torniquet;, coupled with the slow and steady heartbeat-thump of Asa, sounding like he’s carrying the fragile voice through the thick miasma of her own sad lament.

Things are slowed down even more on ‘Tinderbox’ – a real comedown song with crying strings and a subtle, but bold, piano sounding over the rolling atmosphere of synth and guitar washes. The EP ends with a hint of cheer, maybe, on ‘Without You’. The unknown, angelic diva, whose indistinguishable words have rung through the entire EP, reaches for the high note in this finale and sings one last time before all fades into the rain.

Listening to this all the way through really is a journey – definitely the most cinematic of either of the two artist’s releases and a real experience that you can’t miss. Highly recommend this to anyone who likes music with a bit of feeling and a bit of soul..

- Dance Yrself Clean

Giraffage - Needs It’s a little bit trap, a great deal...

Sat, 16 Feb 2013 13:42:30 -0700

Giraffage - Needs

It’s a little bit trap, a great deal warped and an all around woozy dream for your senses. San Francisco based producer Giraffage dropped his newest mixtape, Needs parsing nostalgic cuts from Cathy Dennis, Ready for the World and other great love ballads into a nine track rhythm safari. Here his greatest traits are on display with standout numbers like “All That Matters” and “Close to Me” finely weaving vocals and instrumentals in an understated astral fashion. Giraffage is about to embark on the Step It Up Europe tour with folks like xxyyxx, Blackbird Blackbird, Slow Magic and Beat Culture.

- Earmilk

Xerxes - Out Home is a Deathbed There is one feeling none of...

Tue, 05 Feb 2013 14:29:00 -0700

Xerxes - Out Home is a Deathbed

There is one feeling none of us have the power to control: it is the simplicity of love. Love is a word that has been stretched to mean a lot of things on a lot of levels. There’s love that exists between a parental unit and their children, an attachment to a pet or the one countless records are written about: that sappy feeling we can’t avoid that exists in the pits of our stomach and shows up as unannounced as a sudden common cold. Sometimes it’s hard to explain and other times we can go on for hours. At 25, I’m still unsure what part of it we struggle with the most, but the common core to all of it is certainly the attachment between two parties. There are many ups and downs that exist when we get entangled in the moments that we share, but one moment that all of us will tend to keep to ourselves is the moment where it’s all in our head - our sleep, dreams and vivid reels of scenes that never actually take place outside our minds.

Listening to Xerxes debut full length can be hard at times because of the above sentiments. Honestly, I have no problem admitting that, just as you shouldn’t either, because we’re all human and we all feel that staple to our chests at one point in our lives on some level. Vocalist Calvin Philley’s throat ends up exhausting a lot anguish in trying to connect to a special someone. Our Home is a Deathbed runs the gambit of confusion, anxiety and frustration in under a 30 minute run time, and the band carries along the lyrical depression with their ability to not always be harsh in their delivery. In fact, the biggest surprise for many with Xerxes’ debut full length is how melodic most of the record comes off. After the opening intro of “Wake,” the brutality of “Sleep” is an angry open letter. It’s blunt, to the point and grabs hold in under a minute. “February” is another quick burner of relentless frustration, only letting up for a mere second before its blistering final run. And that’s really the only two quick hits of the record.

Take out Philley’s intense vocals on “Summer Storms/Winter Leaves” or “Suburban Asphalt” and you’re left with some of the best melodic blends of guitar and mid-tempo in the contemporary hardcore genre. It’s very reminiscent of last decade’s early years of texture and melody weaved throughout guitar lines and well-paced, well-controlled drumming patterns. “Fever Dream” builds up to only wind down. There’s no standout moment - just a well paced flow. It’s “Funeral Home” that really sticks out from the rest of the record. I’ve been hearing others saying they’ve mistaken it for a Touche Amore track, but I found the slow burner more reminiscent of the brooding terror of some of Deathwish Inc’s back catalog. It’s the first track that caught me off guard from the rest of the flow of the album upon first listen. It’s also the song the best exemplifies Xerxes’ attempts at crafting something that’s once again prominent in hardcore: bands are writing songs that flow as “pieces” rather than “pay-offs.” Just as we weep at the build up of a breakdown as there is a majority vote of acceptance somehow for that still, bands like Xerxes, Caravels and Pianos Become the Teeth are moving into post-rock territories of shifting melodies and more subtle crescendos that don’t always involve a palm mute, but the adding and removing of layers as the songs inhale and exhale notes while the tracks bloom and die.

My first listen of Xerxes’ Our Home is a Deathbed wasn’t memorable. My second wasn’t either. By the third time - and more so when following the unconscious, dreamlike story flow of trying to cope with loss and longing - I began to peel back the layers of what Xerxes went for on their first big step of setting themselves apart from the rest of whatever every other band are working to catch onto in the current hardcore scene that’s certainly staking a claim among the masses as of late. “our city is a floodplain” and “Tide/This Place as a Prison” are two tracks that fall into the “whatever” that’s happening right now, but it doesn’t damage the rest of Our Home is a Deathbed either - in fact, the tracks only enhance how much talent the rest of the album has to offer. When the record closes out with the title track, we’re left with sort of an out of place ending a la “1100” or “(And It’s Sometimes Like It Will Never End)” - and that’s the brightest red flag on the album. Xerxes tried setting themselves apart from their contemporaries and friends, and it paid off. Now we just have to see how many people notice or simply choose to continue to blindly ride the wave of what’s now deemed acceptable by some. Our Home is a Deathbed is not only a vulnerable record lyrically, but also for its time and place in the current hardcore scene as well.

- AbsolutePunk.net

Stumbleine - Spiderwebbed As Audrey Horne might ask,...

Wed, 30 Jan 2013 12:07:00 -0700

Stumbleine - Spiderwebbed

As Audrey Horne might ask, ‘Isn’t this dreamy?’ As one third of the dubstep trio Swarms, Stumbleine is the first solo venture for the anonymous Bristol producer and is a big leap away from his usual urban sound tracks, being rather a series of golden-hour lit vignettes. Taking his name from a Smashing Pumpkins’ b-side, Stumbleine’s Spiderwebbed is also a glorious indie-fication and gentle warming of dub and 2-step’s colder production values.

From the opening of ‘Cherry Blossom’, expectations are set high, a soft series of percussive shakes set at mid-tempo whilst edited vocals gently stammer melodically. The beeps and clunks of 2-step are retuned into something resigned and glowing.

‘If You’ follows and perfectly merges C86 jangle with shoegaze and dubstep. The sound is fantastic, large and engulfing. Plucked violins dominate and could be the backing for El Perro Del Mar, whilst guitars are either strummed with a gentle distortion and the closeness of a Tascam four track or drone with the Eastern promise of My Bloody Valentine’s golden guitars. The track has a sense of completeness, a perfect loop, that can be left on repeat and not tire.

‘Solar Flare’ is an excellent composition and a huge deconstruction of Nineties r&b. The drums have the spacing and cropped closeness of a J-Lo song, they’re big and bold, but the edges are smoothed out. When the handclap snares come in the whole thing takes off. In this song the vocal edits tremble, the sped up refrains are both soulful and distant. A low end vocal melody underpins the higher, looser refrains that reverberate as the whole track builds with a glacial pace. Keyboard riffs are peppered throughout the striped back moments when the drums take a brief rest, only to thump back in. This has the swagger of an Usher tune without the insistent dance production, a rock steady dance beat dialled back, left to resonate and chime.

There’s a fairly straight cover of Mazzy Star’s ‘Fade Into You’ - sumptuous enough, while also being the only non-essential track on the album. It does provide a welcome departure, predominantly in stepping away from the album’s rhythmic feel by retaining Mazzy Star’s strummed acoustic pacing - a far busier rhythm than anywhere on the rest of this album. This version doesn’t quite wash as blissfully as the original through, which managed such an opening up into the chorus with a simple change onto a ride symbol, for all of Stumbleine’s added twinkles.

‘Kaleidoscope’ is founded upon an immense bass keyboard line and a harder 2-step beat that mingles with snare rim shots. They’re threaded in such away as to sound unintimidating, the crunch lost under big sound pads, electronic strings that are placed far into the distance, evoking a dawn. It’s comedown music, and it’s huge and welcoming.

This album has so much and asks very little. It doesn’t ask you to focus on it and is perfectly happy to wash under you as a background as unobtrusive as any ditty Eric Satie playfully composed. Play it loud or pipe it through headphones and it becomes perfect head music, this time taking you with it. It’s a journey borne of a love of different styles; the rhythms and drum sounds that have dominated and evolved over the last 25 years with the romance of the guitar composers who preceded this development. Spiderwebbed is dreamy, it’s beautiful and it’s one of 2012’s finest debut albums without question.

- Drowned in Sound

Heaven on Howitzers - Hum “I” Eternally at the Heart...

Mon, 21 Jan 2013 23:09:00 -0700

Heaven on Howitzers - Hum “I” Eternally at the Heart of the Universe

Heaven on Howitzers are a 3-piece post-rock band from Minneapolis, MN who kicked off 2013 by releasing their debut album ‘Hum “I” Eternally at the Hearts of the Universe’. Interesting enough, the band actually released this album on cassette in addition to on their bandcamp page. Bringing back the cassette tape? I can get behind that movement. Sorry to my fellow audiophiles, but I have nothing but good memories growing up with my Sony Walkman listening to The Batman Soundtrack, Green Day’s ‘Dookie’ and TLC’s ‘Crazy Sexy Cool’ in the back of the school bus to the jealousy of all the other kids who were forced to listen to the bus driver’s country radio station every morning and afternoon.

Well, now that we’ve traveled down memory lane, let’s get back to the album at hand. Fans of heavily distorted post-rock should fall in love with this release as it is bursting at the seams with darkly distorted tones. The influence from Godspeed You! Black Emperor is definitely noticeable and while I hate to compare two relatively smaller regional bands to one another, I simply can’t overlook the direct similarities between Heaven on Howitzers and Seattle-based X-Suns.

‘Hum “I” Eternally at the Heart of the Universe’ is a very busy album despite clocking in just over 32 minutes. Those 32 minutes are split across 10 tracks, with only two of those tracks being longer than five minutes long. This is very uncharacteristic of a post-rock band but the band makes it work by having all of the songs sort of flow into one another so the album feels somewhat like one long track. Still though, I find myself often wishing that tracks like “Conch Pistol” and “Sway Honey” were just a couple of minutes longer. The tracks are ripe with character but generally end just as you began to drift away within the atmospheric distortion and backgrounds chalked full of spiraling crescendo guitar work.

Undoubtedly my favorite track on the album is the nearly 6-minute long “Crunch Feather”, where the band’s talent and song-writing abilities really shines through. With most of the songs being so short, it’s really tough to get an idea of what the band is truly made of. This track shows us that the band is capable of writing excellent sustained post-rock tracks at the typical length you’d come to expect a straight forward post-rock song to be. It should also be mentioned that the two-part “Great Hills” series that bookend the album are also prime examples of the band’s talent shining through.

Aside from the short tracks, my only other gripe with the album that is on rare occasions the drums feel a tad too artificial and generic. This is a very minor gripe and the guitar work and tones more than make up for it. ‘Hum…’ is a great starting point for a young band who’s upside is relatively bright. They band has distanced their sound far enough from the standard crescendo-core sound that their tracks are memorable even after just a few listens. In a genre where it’s easy to forget the names of bands once you hit the “shuffle” button, Heaven on Howitzers is a band that certainly stands out, and that’s one of the best characteristics a young band could have.

- PostRockStar

Hum “I” Eternally at the Heart of the Universe by Heaven on Howitzers

Titan - Burn Those of us who listen to heavy music know that it...

Fri, 18 Jan 2013 14:25:00 -0700

Titan - Burn

Those of us who listen to heavy music know that it comes in many forms. What defines a band and music as “heavy” is rather subjective. The latest album “Burn” by Titan I think would be considered heavy by anyone.

Releasing their first full-length album, Toronto based metal act Titan have put together a pretty solid effort with “Burn“. Titan lays down some serious sludgy, heavy music. The vocals will force their way into your psyche and bang around a bit. You won’t be able to understand what’s being said, but you’ll know it’s there. The guitars drive and push while the drums pound away, sometimes fast and in your face and at other times stomping out a slow death march.

On “Burn”, Titan switches up mood and melody nicely on the tracks. Even with the ten minute song “Warmer Months“. They do a good job keeping the music on the album interesting and moving. One thing I am a little picky about are the vocals. While they completely work with the feel of the album, the constant scream style becomes tedious and redundant when listening to the album straight through. It would be nice to have a little more variation with the vocals at times (other than the occasional background growl).

If you’re a fan of bands like Neurosis or the sludgier side of Metal, Titan’s “Burn” is worth a listen. So check it out below.

- Head Full of Noise