What's cool? Mastodon, "Asleep in the Deep"

What a long, strange trip

Mastodon guitarist Brent Hinds may have slipped his leash recently when he ranted about his hatred of heavy metal in an interview with Guitar Player. He's evidently been trying to overthrow the band from the inside for years, to make them into something "not such a heavy metal band." A quick listen to their latest single, "Asleep in the Deep" from last year's Once More 'Round the Sun shows that he's still got his work cut out for him.

The song has a fair amount of progressive rock influence, with rhythmic shifts, an interesting harmonic flow, and a trippy bridge interlude, but the band's metal credibility remains intact with offset guitar grind, restless bass throb, and a thickly shadowed vocal atmosphere.The lyrics paint a paranoid picture of threat, but ultimately seem to find victory against the dark miasma of fear. Maybe so, but the feeling is anything but joyful or confident.

As enjoyable as it is to settle into the Gothic embrace of "Asleep in the Deep", this showed up on my radar because of Mastodon's new surreal video for the tune, directed by the artist, Skinner. Think of it as the psychedelic response to the GoPro cat channel on YouTube. With his owner passed out on the couch, our feline hero splits in search of adventure. Almost immediately, he finds himself in a strange black-light zone, surrounded by a pack of bizarro cat-monkey puppets. And that's before the cat is dosed with some psychoactive milk. Then it gets a little strange...

This is definitely a treat, so sit back and enjoy:

Recording review - Bohannons, Black Cross, Black Shield (2015)

Missed connections and missing links

^2.25/5.0

Did you ever have one of those first dates that started out so promising, but then left you checking your watch, waiting for it to be over? It's like the person could hold it together for the first five or six minutes, but no matter how intriguing and cool they seemed then, the rest of the evening had them unraveling until you wondered if that first impression was just a fluke. Maybe you even began to question your earlier enthusiasm. That's exactly where I find myself with Bohannons' Black Cross, Black Shield.

The title track starts out awesome, opening with a heavily compressed guitar riff joined shortly afterwards by a harmonized guitar in the foreground. The tone has the visceral slam of AC/DC, but with a mellower retro blues rock pace. The reverberating vocals line up quite nicely with that, giving me a good idea of what it might sound like if Mick Fleetwood fronted a Black Sabbath tribute band. The droning guitars and thick pentatonic riffs conjure up a raw intensity. The bridge turns to old school psychedelia, reminding me of Status Quo's "Pictures of Matchstick Men", and I'm caught up in the hypnotic swirl of distorted guitars. The best part is that it keeps showing kaleidoscope flashes of almost recognizable riffs: a touch of "Iron Man" here, a smear of "Sister Ray" there.

So, six minutes in, I'm thinking this could be the start of something great and I settle in for more. The Bohannon brothers' twin guitar assault continues on "White Widow". The classic rock vamp at the start isn't as catchy as the first track, but the band still plows into the full sound with enthusiasm. The music is pretty decent and the lead near the end throws in some speedier runs, but the initial attraction is starting to fade, in large part because the lyrics can't hold the song together. They sing the lines with gusto, but it's hard to pull a linear theme from lines like, "Who's to say you're out of touch/ Just because you feel so much/ I just got born/ And then I died."

From here, the die is cast: the solid guitar work can never quite overcome the vague or repetitive lyrics. Bohannons slog through a string of hard hitting garage rock, but they never find the momentum that seemed so natural on the title track. Songs like "Dias de Los Muertos" or "Lightning and Thunder" plod along and never really deliver any satisfaction. The best of the lot, "Death and Texas", has a righteous Neil Young shred (in fact it's fairly derivative), but the platitudes about illness and loss offer little insight: "To watch you fade / Day by day / Has got me a little down on God / And his mysterious ways."

I toughed it out to the end, hoping I could salvage some of the magic of that initial taste. The final tune, "Red, White, Black and Pale",  is a doom-filled, apocalyptic vision but it doesn't measure up to anything Mike Doughty wrote for his recent ambitious musical, Revelation: A Rock Opera. So, no magic miracles to save the day. It's rare to turn so sharply from hot to cold on an album like this, and I began to doubt my memory. Was I suckered in somehow at the start or did Bohannons lead with an uncharacteristically strong tune? Unlike a disastrous date, there was an easy way to check the facts. I steeled myself, hit replay, and dove back into "Black Cross, Black Shield".

On the second listen, I still enjoyed the song's classic metal grind and dynamic pacing, but I also noticed some cracks in the facade. In particular, the similarity between the chorus and Harry Chapin's "Cat's in the Cradle", became impossible to ignore, even though the band cloaks it in wailing guitar tone. That revisit makes it easier for me to send Black Cross, Black Shield on its way with no regrets. It's not fundamentally flawed, but we're just not compatible after all.

Recording review - California X, Nights in the Dark (2014)

Sensitive and evocative, wrapped in cathartic waves of thunder
^4.0/5.0 

California X protects their soft chewy center with bristling, metal shard guitars and rolling waves of thunder. Most of the songs on their latest offering, Nights in the Dark, are wrapped in barbed wire brambles of distortion that still let their vulnerability shine through. It's a standard formula that hordes of emo bands have followed, but to their credit, frontman Lemmy Gurtowski and his crew never get depressed enough to slip into whiny self-indulgence. Even better, this latest release is a major step forward in defining the band's sound. On their eponymous debut, California X drew comparisons to their more famous Amherst big brother, Dinosaur Jr. They've still got the thick tarry fuzz, but the songs never descend into the apathetic catharsis that J Mascis is so adept at. Instead, California X stretches out and adds some low-fi post-rock reminiscent of bands like Trail of Dead, as well as some nicely honed metal chops.

The echoing rumbles of ragged guitar kicking off the title song give the album a good start, but the band really hits their stride with the fourth track, "Hadley, MA". The preceding tune, "Ayla's Song", breaks the flow of cotton-wrapped, raging amps with an evocative fingerstyle acoustic guitar, That piece ends abruptly with a brief bro comment, "Cool", and then "Hadley, MA" brings back the throbbing distorted tones, but the transition flows naturally because the the melodic riff ties back to the previous song's tonal center and phrasing even as the production contrasts so strongly. The slow grinding rhythm creates a fraught emotional space, but the arrangement is flexible and allows for some strong dynamic shifts. In particular, the drop-back for the vocals on the verses lets them stand out cleanly and emphasizes the growing intensity of the chorus. It's easy to sink into this song and be buffeted by the noise.

This in turn sets up the dual tracks of "Blackrazor", with part one offering a post-rock flavored slow-core metal grind. Like an implacable fate, the song rolls out darkly with occasional rhythmic stutters. The massive crush of bass and guitar chords lays the foundation for a fluttering lead guitar that strains against the boundaries of the song, like Robin Trower jamming over Black Sabbath. Moving on to part two, California X sets up a faster metal punch that immediately suggests Motörhead with choppy guitar, pounding drums, and righteous bass drive. Thankfully, the vocals never attempt Lemmy's growl (Kilmister, that is), but the head banging energy is perfect. Running almost seven minutes, this part gives the band plenty of room to drag out the jam, with tight harmonized leads that show off their technical chops. While California X doesn't really position themselves as metalheads, these tracks extend their range while maintaining a consistently loud and cathartic sound.

It's easy to find minor gripes with Nights in the Dark: the unbalanced tone and muted highs wear a little thin and a couple more songs would be nice. But it's a strong sophomore effort that clearly refutes critics who heard too much Dinosaur Jr. in their debut release. Savor the noise and find your way to the center.

Recording review - The Melvins, Hold It In (2014)

Super group offers metallic crunch and twisted art noise

Some visitors are conscientious, happy to drop by and help with the chores, but they’d never overstay their welcome or be too forward. Others are more domineering, taking over the house and disrupting everything. On Hold It In, Buzz Osborne and Dale Crover of the Melvins invited Paul Leary and J.D. Pinkus of the Butthole Surfers to the party, and these guests moved in and joined the family. Rather than mere featured performers, Leary and Pinkus became equal collaborators on the album, which couples the Melvins’ characteristic metallic crunch gristle with the Surfers’ twisted art noise. That combination stays true to each band’s modus operandi while offering some very interesting surprises.

The super group eases into the partnership with “Bride of Crankenstein”, which has the Melvins taking the lead. The sludgy heavy metal opening sets up a steady methodical grind. The track is dedicated to a classic head-banging groove. Basso rhythm guitar provides a rough foundation for buzzsaw accent fills, while the background is choked with chaotic static. The bridge opens up the tune, beginning with a flickering electronic reference to Edgar Winter’s “Frankenstein” that ushers in a new harmonic progression. The song rips into these chords to soften the ground for a pair of guitar solos that show off Leary and Osborne’s different styles. First, Leary lets fly a burst of loose, double-stop bends that decay into sloppy chromatic flail, releasing some of the simmering tension of the piece. Osborne closes out the interlude with a brief but wicked run that starts out as a smooth wail before tightening into a sweet bit of shred.

Two songs later, we get a better sense of this four-headed beast with “Brass Cupcake”. At first, it’s just a crunchy rocker with an interesting vocal arrangement. Osborne gamely lays out the surrealistic, simplistic lyrics, while Leary periodically drops in to repeat whatever line just passed by with a scream, like a disturbed Greek chorus. Those intervals of echolalia are backed by distorted waves of guitar. The tune then falls into a low-fi Van Halen breakdown before moving into a strong, hard rock bridge. But the rock crumbles into a spacey, Alice-in-Wonderland ending, full of warped fragments. With no firm sense of transition, we find ourselves immersed in the following trippy track, “Barcelonian Horseshoe Pit”. Deep in avant-garde Butthole Surfer territory, we’re trapped in a disoriented fun house with weird tonal flashes which are mutated and chopped with back-mask. This ungrounded drift lasts for a solid two-plus minutes before coalescing somewhat into a dismal pseudo-song that takes its inspiration from Bauhaus’ “Bela Lugosi’s Dead”. Amid drum solos, hazy confusion and bits of baleful guitar, the band tenders this as their soundtrack for when the nightmare monsters finally tear through and press themselves into our world. This song pairing shows how the two bands complement one other, a yin-yang of driving rock and amorphous experiment.

Like much of the Melvins’ back catalog, Hold It In may focus on heavy proto-grunge, but actually delivers a range of musical flavors. The band’s staying power owes a lot to their out of the box thinking. While Leary and Pinkus help that along here, there are other intriguing side steps, like the electro-pop feel of “You Can Make Me Wait”, the deconstructed garage glam of “Eyes On You”, and the zombie western twang of “I Get Along (Hollow Moon)”. One of the best is the meandering track, “The Bunk Up”. A stutter beat rhythm sets a nü-wave funky mood with an angular punch while the theatrical vocals are reminiscent of The Tubes’ more artsy work. That initial section gives way to an edgy perspective of an arena rock bridge. As that wraps up, rather than just falling back to the opening changes, the tune roams further afield with a mellow jam band groove, full of back-masked melodic musing. Eventually, the lazy flow finds its way back into the dark, with sneering vocals and a goth metal gait. There’s nothing predictable about it, but it truly satisfies.

Osborne has long idolized Leary for his playing and Hold It In is probably all he could have hoped for. In any case, it succeeds in showing how well the Melvins could integrate the Butthole Surfers’ avant-garde spin into their musical house. The album features a fair amount of redecorating and adjustment, but all time-shares should run this smooth.

(This review first appeared on Spectrum Culture)

Recording review - King Tuff, Black Moon Spell (2014)

Arch humor from a garage glam creepster

Here’s the pitch: We’ll raise T. Rex’s Marc Bolan from the dead and partner him up with the Cramps, then polish the act to create the perfect bubblegum pop band for a Saturday morning kids’ cartoon series. Call it “So King Tuff!” What makes the act so irresistible is that Kyle Thomas, King Tuff’s alter ego, has found an ideal balance point between tongue in cheek irony, lo-fi garage glam, and creep-show trappings. Thickly distorted guitars and pounding drums provide a battle-axe edge to Black Moon Spell that grounds his lilting vocals and occasional forays into psychedelic excess. Or maybe it’s the other way around and arch humor and goofy lyrics keep the walls of noisy rock jams from sinking into the sludge. Either way, the combination results in an intense but fun listening experience, where the songs themselves aren’t necessarily that impressive, but they’re thoroughly entertaining. For example, “Headbanger” follows its croaking, demonic intro with tight, eighth note chunks of guitar just to set up the poppy, teenage love song lyrics, “Me and you, we got a true connection/ I knew it when I saw your record collection.” A shared love of Black Sabbath and Judas Priest is the only sign King Tuff needs to recognize his soulmate. The smooth, pop hook chorus repetition, “Bang your little head,” is propelled by a metalloid guitar riff that summons a sweet tang of cognitive dissonance. It’s simultaneously fluffy and visceral, and it’s also completely silly. With lines like,”Shaking off our clothes on the grave, where rock and roll was buried/ Making out to ‘Make Me Shout,’ in the back of a cemetery,” it’s impossible to take it seriously. Except the music is so compelling…

Of course, King Tuff doesn’t jump straight to the punch line. Black Moon Spell opens with a run of less campy tracks. First, the title tune includes a solid instrumental section that establishes his hard rock credentials. Then he tosses out a low budget, entry level rocker and some acid-soaked garage psychedelia to soften the listeners so “Headbangers” will hit all the harder. That sensibility rescues the album from pure parody; King Tuff has the discipline to tone down the wink and nod for enough of the songs so that when he drops the subtlety, the listener is primed for it. It also helps that the oddball songs don’t follow a strict formula. On the one hand, “I Love You Ugly” sounds like a T. Rex interpretation of Tuff Darts’ “(Your Love Is Like) Nuclear Waste” that bleeds off all of the bile to leave behind a residue of simple non-judgmental love and left-handed compliments. By contrast, the raw rocker “Madness” leads with a ridiculous boast, “King Tuff is my name/ I got madness in my brain/ Pleased to meet ya/ I’m gonna eat ya/ Cause I’m batshit insane,” which turns out to be his idea of a pickup line.

While the humor forms the core of Black Moon Spell‘s attraction, the camouflage tunes have their appeal as well. Probably the best track on the album is “Black Holes In Stereo”, which cleverly repurposes record album spindle holes as a pathway to transcendence. The verses are wordy, backed with a poppy, up-tempo beat, but the chorus kicks it into overdrive with a single line mission statement, “There’s a black hole on your stereo/ And all you gotta do is go, go, go…” The echoed mayhem of that last word repeats like stars slipping away from a rocket hitting warp speed.

Near the end of the album, King Tuff loses some of his focus with a couple of sun-dappled psychedelic tunes that call back to his earlier releases, but don’t quite fit here, despite being quite pleasant. He also chose to close out the record with a straight ahead retro rocker rather than going for the laugh one last time. Regardless, the essentially weird mix on the album isn’t diminished by either of these decisions. If this were a cartoon, I’d be tuning in just to see where King Tuff would go next.

(This review first appeared on Spectrum Culture)

Recording review - Megafauna, Maximalist (2014)

Languid vocals and razor-edged guitar in a powerhouse setting

Calm, slowly evolving musical mantras and crisp, fractal reflections: the minimalist music of Steve Reich and Philip Glass seeks transcendence rooted in an intellectual purity. From the urgently thrashing opening moments of the lead-off track, “Eggs”, Megafauna stakes out an antithetical position on Maximalist. The band rejects measured movement and icy clarity for a visceral punch and a swirling confusion of moods. They draw on a jumble of inspirations: the classic hard rock guitar of Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple crosses swords with progressive complexity reminiscent of Trail of Dead and El Ten Eleven, while the vocals waver between Björk’s breathy oddness and Amanda Palmer’s theatrical insistence. Bandleader Dani Neff also has a rich tonal range that recalls Annie Haslam’s work with Renaissance. Her versatile voice is adept at veering from soft vulnerability to no-nonsense sternness. Regardless of whether she’s preserving her distance or coming on ragged and strong, Neff has a sweet girlish tone, but there’s nothing dreamy or vague about her guitar playing. This creates a delicious contrast between her languid vocals and razor-edged guitar work. Those hard rock riffs anchor the tunes and show off both her technical chops and how she controls the mood with dynamic shifts.

The songwriting on Maximalist is also top-notch. The tracks mutate and twist in interesting directions, rising above their initial perspectives. Take a tune like “Precious Blood”. It starts with a lazy, descending guitar line that paints a sense of midnight ruminations. The echoes on Neff’s voice become ghostly whispers to accompany her through the darkness. As she sings the line, “We are still waiting/ For something big,” it foreshadows the sharp punch of ringing guitar that follows. Driving power chords set up the next transition to a Black Sabbath inspired bit of flaming metallic melody. As this climbs into a heavier version of the chorus, it’s hard to recall the haunting feel at the start, but Megafauna flawlessly negotiates the dynamic drop to take us back there, this time ratcheting up the pressure. Neff’s solo is an evocative bit of shred that embodies a fight against inertia and an inevitable end. “Precious Blood” is a treat, not just for the balance between soft and loud, pensive steps and headlong rush, but also for the way Megafauna works together to encapsulate those swings into a narrative flow.

As front and center as Neff is to Megafauna’s sound, she couldn’t pull this off without the strong support she gets from her rhythm section. Like all power trios, they walk a fine line between backing the song and stepping forward to fill it out so the guitar can break loose. Greg Yancey’s bass lines fall into unison with Neff’s riffs to lock them into the pocket, but he also brings a thick thundering tone that stands in for rhythm guitar when that’s necessary. Zack Humphrey’s drumming is phenomenal. He’s fairly busy, with lots of syncopation and fills, rarely dropping into straight time. But where a lot of flash drummers lack an appreciation of nuance, Humphrey’s ear is impeccable and he can maintain the energy as he drops back to leave enough space for the vocals to step up.

Retro hard rock and metal form the foundation of Maximalist’s spirit -- listen to the “Immigrant Song” vibe on “Hug From a Robot” -- but their progressive side opens up many of these pieces for wider explorations and stranger sonic palettes. From the desperate angular guitar of “Haunted Factory” to the rich post-rock dissonance on “Chromatic Fantasy”, Megafauna expands well beyond mere head banging and impressive shred without slipping into self-indulgence. Maximalist lives up to its name, incorporating these wild musical gestures to create a bridging world where fans from all over can find something to love.

As an added treat, here's the video for the earlier release of "Precious Blood" on 2012's Surreal Estate:

Recording review - Shonen Knife, Overdrive (2014)

A beautiful balance of thrashy naïveté

“Gabba gabba, we accept you/ We accept you, one of us!” On “Pinhead”, the Ramones explicitly summed up the promise of the DIY punk ethos. Anyone could join in from whatever part of the fringe they lived on. That message found an unlikely reception in Osaka, Japan, where two sisters and their friend were inspired to start their own band in 1981. Although the lineup has changed over the years, Shonen Knife remains true to their initial love of bands like the Ramones. Part of their magic is that they embody both rock rawness and Japanese kawaii (cuteness) culture. Their thrashy guitars and simple song structures firmly embrace punk, but the trio’s joie de vivre creates a cognitive dissonance. The crunchy catharsis of distorted amps is tied to cheerfully trivial lyrics in a way that sounds quite naïve to a Western audience. Where other bands might cast this contrast as irony or a mask of innocence over a seething internal chaos, Shonen Knife uses the noise like a trebuchet to launch their innate optimism to soaring heights. They walk this tightrope between two extremes with such a natural flair that it’s impossible to dismiss them as a lightweight girl band or as mindless rockers. They’ve been around long enough that they qualify as old-school punks and they’ve developed a cult following that included Sonic Youth and the late Kurt Cobain.

Their latest offering, Overdrive, reliably delivers their standard mix of punk and pop, but expands that with a classic rock/early heavy metal palette. The opening tune, “Bad Luck Song”, crosses a garage rocking Thin Lizzy cover band with the Ramones, in the best possible sense of that combination. It’s filled with riffs and hooks that are reminiscent of “The Boys Are Back In Town”, but the chorus vocals capture Joey Ramone’s self-conscious simplicity, fitting the message of the song, “The bad luck song might be my good luck song/ This is the best way of thinking.” The twin guitar attack on the solo nails Thin Lizzy’s harmonized lines. It’s a solid start for the album. On the next tune, “Black Crow”, Shonen Knife shifts from classic rock to moody, Black Sabbath-inspired heavy metal. This is one of the two darker tunes on the album, with Naoko Yamano actually summoning a touch of resentment at the crow that has interrupted her sleep, “Don’t wake me up in the night/ I want to stay in my dreams/ Don’t wake me up in the night/ Go back to the mountain.” The lyrics have a childlike directness that is refreshing, perhaps because they seem to deny any metaphorical interpretation. The other break in the band’s relentless cheer comes with “Robots from Hell”, a grinding, drum heavy slog which also leans towards heavy metal. While most of the song just modulates between a couple of chords, they do toss in some tight chord riffs that any basement metal band would be proud to play.

The weighty hard rock on Overdrive meshes well with the band’s power chord punk and it’s fun to identify their influences, from the AC/DC grind of “Ramen Rock” to the Deep Purple sludge intro for “Green Tea”. But even as Shonen Knife expands their sound, they haven’t sacrificed a bit of their fundamental pop sensibility or their paradoxical Zen koan nature. Their kawaii persona is inherently artifice and yet the clarity of their words and grounded playing tap into a guileless sincerity. That enigmatic combination is still intriguing after all of these years. There are a handful of somewhat damaged artists like Syd Barrett, Brian Wilson and Roky Erickson, who could translate their skewed internal mindsets into great art. Shonen Knife are hardly impaired in any way and they’re not of that same stature, but their unique perspective is similarly compelling.

(This review first appeared on Spectrum Culture)

Recording review - Pontiak, Innocence (2014)

Bite-sized chunks of roiling guitar

Let the ritual of fuzz begin! Heat shimmers, metallic grind, throaty roars, and muted growls - a multitude of textures awaits on Pontiak's Innocence. The Carney brothers have an innate grasp on "What Would Black Sabbath Do?" It goes beyond a mere enthusiasm for retro classic metal psychedelia; the three of them seem ensnared in the heady, distorted echoes of 1970. Despite the psychic weight of that history, they still set one foot forward towards the modern era, bridging the gap by emulating the neo-psych acid-trails of bands like The Flaming Lips. Their unique balance depends on that mix of moods and it's mostly effective. The album is full of great song ideas and ballsy riffage. The one weakness is that they seem to tire of  the tunes before they fully ripen. Innocence's 11 tracks run just under 33 minutes, which would be great for teen idol pop fluff. But these songs deserve much better treatment.

Both of the first two tracks, "Innocence" and "Lack Lustre Rush", set up solid grooves, the first with a Cream-meets-Sabbath bass-heavy guitar throb and the latter with a thick drum-propelled gut-punch. But neither idea is developed to completion. The hard-rocking "Lack Lustre Rush" sinks twisted roots into punk nihilism and metal head-banging. Van Carney laconically speak-sings his lines over the static-tone wash of heavily abused cymbals. On the first listen, the speedy drum fills at 2:12 sounded like the signal for a bridge that would open the track up. Instead, they were merely an unadorned solo to put the piece to rest. That lack of stamina wasn't just a missed opportunity to expand into new directions; it drew attention to the song's tonal uniformity.

Fortunately, the third track, "Ghosts", offers redemption. The song kicks off with an octave-counterpoint whipsaw guitar that sounds like shred-head parody of The Knack's "My Sharona". But there's nothing to laugh at as the frantic pace and distorted riff relentlessly turn the screws tighter. The drums mutate the beat from the initial nervous tic into regular waves of roiling guitar grind. By the time the vocals float out over the throbbing terrain, you get the sense that somewhere deep in Heavy Metal Hell, a dark angel is finally getting its black leather wings. The bridge provides some respite from the tightly wound drive with a quick run of cut-time chord changes. The brief solo is a feedback-fueled bit of black-psychedelic beauty. Notes drip into the void of the implacable rhythm and then bow out for the next verse to come in. This time the drums are clearly taking the song out when they kick into overdrive. This climax sets up a radical break in the tone with the next track, "It's The Greatest".

Here Pontiak shows a new side by leading off with a reedy organ. The lingering chords and relaxed drumbeat borrow a lot from David Bowie's "Candidate" (Diamond Dogs, 1974). After the pressure of "Ghosts", the laid back mood is a relief. Even the hippy-dippy lyrics are a splash of cool water, "My God, It's the best afternoon we've had/ Nothing but to do this. Right on, it's the greatest." This sends the album in a new direction for the next couple of songs, which favor The Flaming Lips style of trippy folk-flavored rock. The interlude serves its purpose and lets us catch our breath before Innocence falls back under the thrall of their metal-flaked influences with "Surrounded By Diamonds". The heavy Super-Fuzz tone sets up a choppy strobe-flicker of rhythm guitar to support the Ozzie-style vocal.

The album showcases Pontiak's feel for sculpting distortion into all kinds of shapes. Skewed reflections of Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, Tommy Iommi, and Jimmy Page make their appearances, but the band still shows plenty of originality, albeit in bite-sized chunks. Here's to hoping that their next release will dig deeper into the tunes.

Recording review: Beatallica, Abbey Load (2013)

Metalloid covers rather than full-on mashups

Like Dread Zepplin, Beatallica has always been clear about their musical mission: blending the Beatles and Metallica into a powerhouse mashup. It could be argued that they're a one trick pony, but both source bands have a rich enough back catalog that Beatallica hasn't exhausted the possibilities. Their 2009 album Masterful Mystery Tour (review) was well crafted, packed with songs like "Everybody's Got a Ticket to Ride Except For Me and My Lightnin" and "The Thing That Should Not Let It Be". These songs showed real ingenuity, finding common ground between their sources and coming up with lyrics that fit thematically with both groups. I came to Abbey Load looking for the next installment, eager to hear how they'd marry late-era Beatles with Load's bluesy metal sound. I imagined a mutant "She Came In Through The Bathroom Window", supercharged with DNA from "King Nothing".

Instead, the band has settled for metalloid covers of an assortment of Beatles songs. The album is anchored by "Come Together" and the medley from Abbey Road, and filled out with a hodge-podge of miscellaneous tracks. Dropping songs like "Oh, Darling" and "Octopus's Garden" seems reasonable, but "Something" could have had potential. By substituting songs like "I Saw Her Standing There" and "Please, Please Me", the project feels more like a random collection.

Of course, Masterful Mystery Tour wasn't a slave to a tracklist either, but the crucial difference is that Beatallica has abandoned their mashup home-base to make a less interesting cross-genre cover album. Each of the songs maintains the original Beatles' melodies and lyrics. This places them more squarely into Dread Zepplin's camp. Sure, Jaymz Lennfield still dials his James Hetfield impression up to 11 and the riffs are heavy as ever, but it's a let-down from the band's earlier work. The familiar musical references, like "For Whom the Bell Tolls" embedded within "Michelle" or the "Four Horsemen" intro for "Mean Mister Mustard" don't make up for the missing spark.

In an interview with Metal Assault, Lennfield blames the creative decision on their distribution channel, Sony International. "...he basically strong-armed us into either shutting the whole thing down or doing the next record by using the Beatles lyrics and the Beatles vocal melodies. So those were our choices..." That explains why they didn't include their song "Ktulu (He's So Heavy)" (from 2007's Sgt. Hetfield's Motorbreath Pub Band), which would have fit in perfectly. Evidently, Beatallica has already come up with real mashups based on this material, but was blocked from releasing the songs. Knowing that we could have listened to "Mean Mister Mustaine" is a bitter pill.

Lennfield seems philosophical about the situation and stands by Abbey Load. He's also mentioned that the band idoes include their more interesting interpretations in their live show. Even without that incentive, I'd recommend catching them if they ever tour nearby.

Concert review - Soilwork with Jeff Loomis, Blackguard, and Hatchet

12 April 2013 (Gothic Theatre, Denver CO)
It was metal night at the Gothic with a full line up of bands. There was slightly less thrash for the evening because Bonded By Blood missed the show with a broken van. They got shout outs from the stage, but the other groups shouldered the weight.

Hatchet

Hatchet hit the stage hard and fast with a solid thrash sound. The grinding guitars and rapid fire bass drum showed off their Brit metal/NWOBHM influences, but their foundation is based on classic thrashers like Testament and Slayer. Front man Julz Ramos' shrieking vocals added a shrill intensity.


The band controlled the stage well, very conscious of how they looked. It may have been somewhat choreographed, with coordinated head banging and a lot of back and forth motion, but they kept the small crowd enthralled. Ramos was the key focus, staying in constant motion.


As openers, their set was relatively short, but they managed to spotlight their new album, Dawn of the End. The doom-laden "Vanishing Point" and the rapid fire title cut were both stand-out songs.

Blackguard

Blackguard almost stole the show. Lead singer Paul Ablaze and his band took the stage to a theatrical, pre-recorded intro and could have held the burgeoning crowd for twice the time. With bass player Étienne Mailloux apparently missing, Alex Weber from Jeff Loomis' band stepped in and did a fine job rocking the bottom end.


Ablaze was a master at working the crowd. Radiating a mix of glee and confidence, he pumped them up, with restless motion and punk tension. Even though black metal is not my personal sweet spot, his vocals were awesome, rising from a guttural growl to a scream. As he abandoned himself to a psychic blast of raw vocal noise, he became a cathartic channel that focused the band's intensity.


If Ablaze was the face of the band, then drummer Justine Ethier was the heart, spine, and balls. From speedy kick drum rolls to thunderous tom fills, she pushed the band to the next level. She was hands-down the best drummer of the night and she had some fierce competition. Where the growls and grind presented their darkness, Ethier's drumwork hinted at the underlying violent intent.


Guitar player Louis Jacques, who joined the band last year, demonstrated some excellent shredding leads. The group kept a good dynamic balance between the lead and rhythm guitars. Jacques and Terry Roadcase were adept at locking in on the choppy strum, then hitting sharp breaks so a prickly accent riff could fill in the sound.


Where Hatchet's stagework showed its structure, Blackguard kept their traffic flowing more naturally even as they struck all the appropriate poses. Mounting the stage monitors, audience-baiting, and more swirling, synchronized headbanging -- the band had it all and gave us a great show.

Jeff Loomis

As lead guitarist for Nevermore, columnist for Guitar World magazine, and guitar idol, Jeff Loomis has built a career on his skills as a shred-monster in the style of Yngwie Malmsteen. Like Malmsteen, his flashy speed was technically impressive but didn't offer a lot of substance.


Where the other bands filled the stage with churning movement and excitement, Loomis remained fairly static physically even as his hands danced across his guitar neck. As a live performance, it wasn't that interesting beyond the spectacle of seeing how long a flurry of notes he could sustain. Since his machine gun shred dominated the sound, the rest of the band were pushed to the background. The drumming kept up the blistering pace, but remained rhythmically simple.


Loomis made a good effort -- he was friendly and showed some boyish charm -- but he did a better job of being admired than entertaining. In the right band context, stunt guitar can be a lot of fun, but it needs a good front man to elevate the skill into a full show. Without that, the studio would be a better setting for his skills.

Soilwork

Soilwork's set pushed the show back into motion. Powered by Speed Strid's larger than life persona, they had great dynamics peppered with tight rhythmic breaks. Strid tightened his connection to the crowd with a host of small interactions, but there was a Jeckyl and Hyde energy. Singing and growling, he was intimidating: large, loud, aggressive, and sharp as a knife. Between songs, though, his patter was more engaging. He dropped his fierceness to thank the crowd for their support or acknowledge the members of the band. Despite this personality shift, both versions felt genuine. The house was already primed for the music, but his personality made the audience come alive.


The band skipped back and forth through their career, mixing up older tracks like "Final Fatal Force" from A Predator's Portrait (2001) with songs off their latest. The Living Infinite. Because the band has evolved across their discography,  the set varied quite a bit, tossing defiant thrash and death metal jams with their newer rock sounds. There was even a spot of rap-style metal. The stylistic variation, interesting melodic development, and keyboard textures broadened Soilwork's musical impact. We could count on the driving rhythms and hardcore drumming to prod the mosh pit back into action and get us banging along with the band. They demonstrated that a shared ritual of kick drum punch and cathartic excitement are what metal is all about.


The band's momentum easily overcame some minor technical problems with Sylvain Coudret's guitar rig. While Strid dominated, there was plenty of room for the rest of the front line to express their personalities. In particular, bass player Ola Flink proved to be a bit of a clown, although he looks a bit like Ted Kaczynski. Mugging for the audience, there were times that he stalked around with an exaggerated strut. At one point he collapsed on the stage, playing on his back as if he were having a bass seizure.


The stage setup was good, keeping the guitars, bass and vocals on the front line, with the keys and drums in the back. The guitar amps were hidden behind logo screens, but that didn't affect the volume. The one drawback, though, was the fog machine that made it hard to get clear pictures. I hate those things. Soilwork closed out the show with a two song encore, culminating in 2005's title cut "Stabbing the Drama". Strid had us singing the chorus:

I'm waiting for something to show,
I might as well...
Just drag me down so low!

But Soilwork raised us all up.


More photos on my Flickr.

Concert review - Tenacious D with The Sights

26 July 2012 (Red Rocks Amphitheatre, Morrison CO)

The show contrasted a serious young band full of nervous energy and a well practiced, experienced headliner. Both acts gave fair value with strong sets.

Red Rocks is a large venue. I had good seats with great sound, but a bit far back for good photos.

The Sights

The Sights were out of their element. This tour is certainly exposing them to some large audiences and Red Rocks is long way from the Michigan bars back home. Where a lesser band might have been cowed, The Sights stepped up with their incredible bar band energy and played large enough to own the stage.

Eddie Baranek's manic stage presence comes through in The Sights' YouTube clips, but he was even more amped as he strutted the stage here. The whole band was hyped as they pounded through the relatively short set.

They mostly favored the new album, Left Over Right (review), but they pulled out some older cuts, too. I loved Baranek's wicked guitar jam kicking off the bluesy rocker, (Nose to the) Grindstone.

The Sights emphasized their rocker side, which was appropriate for a Tenacious D crowd. So, they toned down some of their soul sound. Still, their tight pop harmonies sweetened the mix.

They wrapped up the set with an amazing version of Fool (I Can't Stop Making Out With You). Baranek set his guitar down on the edge of the stage and let it feedback in an extended version of the album track's tease intro. Then, he took the mic with his harp and threw down against Dean Tartaglia's wailing sax. The vocals still reminded me of Eric Burdon and the Animals, but with the band off their leashes. Tartaglia doubled down on free jazz sax riffs, playing two saxes at the same time. Kyle Schanta's heavy bass lines anchored the tune.

Sweaty and spent, the band took their bows at the end. They seemed a little shell-shocked. Eddie Baranek looked dazed as he thanked us for the "Best night ever". No, Eddie. Thank you.

Tenacious D

Tenacious D are touring behind their new album, Rize of the Fenix (review). Rather than mix up the set, interspersing older song with the new songs, Tenacious D split the set into two halves. In the first section, they played many of the new songs. Then they laid out a tongue in cheek jam, showcasing a "new direction" for The D -- Jazz. It was an amusing send up of pretentious free jazz, complete with Jack Black's scat vocals. After that, the second half of the set hit a bunch of favorite songs from their earlier albums.

Rize of the Fenix isn't Tenacious D's strongest album, but the live energy kicked ass. They started out the set with a theatrical version of the title track. The dynamics of the song were bigger and the stage set (a giant Fenix/cock) was exactly the kind of excess that Tenacious D does so well.

While Kyle Gass stayed quiet and serious in his straight man persona, Jack Black dominated the show with his over-the-top acting. Black's funniest acting roles are rooted in his ability throw himself into a silly part, selling even the goofiest character (Nacho Libre, etc). This was part of the magic of the Tenacious D show on HBO that launched the franchise. The Red Rocks set was fairly scripted, but Black was so invested with his role, that it took on a kind of sincerity. Whether he was playing prima donna between songs and ordering his roadies around or pushing his campy Neil Diamond impression on 39, Black kept us laughing as we rocked.

That balance between humor and catharsis makes Tenacious D such a great band. If Black handled the bulk of the funny, Kyle Gass and the band drove the music. Longtime backing musician John Konesky was incredibly versatile on guitar, effortlessly bouncing from classical lines to shredding leads. Bass player John Spiker played some solid lines, but his solo during the band introductions was jaw-dropping. Brooks Wackerman showed off his agility with kick drum rolls and tasteful fills. KG's guitar work was a nice contrast to Konesky's. On the new material, his playing was more subtle, but he had plenty of chances to show off during the older songs.

Tenacious D kept up a pace chock full of peak moments. With Konesky "possessed" by Satan, the band ran through the skit/song of Beelzeboss (The Final Solution). Without giving us much time to savor the big finish, Gass sauntered to the full front center of the stage and kicked off a rousing medley of the Who's Tommy. Starting with Pinball Wizard, he nailed Townshend's speedy rhythmic strum. The band transitioned from Pinball Wizard to There's a Doctor before finishing out with Go To The Mirror!

Tenacious D wrapped up the set with an extended version of Double Team that detoured out to band introductions before the inevitable climax from the Fenix spewed confetti into the audience. We didn't have to wait long for the three song encore, which wrapped up with a crowd singalong of Fuck Her Gently.

More photos on my Flickr.

Setlist

• Rize of the Fenix
• Low Hangin' Fruit
• Señorita
• Deth Starr
• The Roadie
• Throw Down
• 39
• "Jazz"
• Kielbasa
• Kickapoo
• Dude (I Totally Miss You)
• Kyle Quit the Band
• Friendship
• The Metal
• Wonderboy
• Beelzeboss (The Final Countdown)
• Tommy medley
• Pinball Wizard
• There's a Doctor
• Go To The Mirror!
• Tribute
• Double Team
• with band intros & solos
  

Encore:

• Baby
• Jesus Ranch
• Fuck Her Gently

Recording review - Big Bang, Diez tragos (2012)

Spanish hard rock expands into expressive post-rock

Barcelona rockers Big Bang filled their last album, Sin renuncia a la esperanza (review) with a hard rock sound, gilded with a metallic edge. Their latest album, Diez tragos, shifts towards post-rock arrangements and throws in some synthesizer, but keeps the metal flair. Most importantly, Big Bang maintains the knife edge dynamic between punchy grind and reflective wail.

No soy un ángel starts strung with restrained tension. The solid beat, twisty synth line and throbbing bass recall Rush at their progressive best. The verses stay sparse with occasional eruptions of guitar, but that sets up the chorus shift. The guitar lurches first and drags the rest of the band into a heavier uptempo section. Near the end, the chorus extends into a more driving beat to support an angular solo. The alternation creates a rich balance of restraint and expressiveness.

Big Bang's industrial sound reflects bits of Nine Inch Nails and other hard rocking bands. On Soy inmortal, the jerky chop rhythm and progression is a bit like Living Color covering the James Gang's Funk #49. It's a thick, riff driven song. The spastic grind beat sets up a tripping, singing solo that offers a taste of Jeff Beck dipped in metal.

My favorite track, though, was the moody Crucificame. The meandering female vocal start has a Moorish feel, but the music quickly drops that stark, mournful sound to set a stalking rhythm. A wicked bassline runs through the song like a thick, heavy chain. The discordant crunchy guitar has a taste of Led Zeppelin's Kashmir, but the effect is more Soundgarden. The song sections flip by quickly like a post-rock slide show.

Aside from their technical skills, Diez tragos stands out because of the thread of experimentalism running through the songs. Where their last album featured some Adrian Belew style stunt guitar, Big Bang has gotten more imaginative. Watery reflections of guitar behind Sufrir, hypnotic Arabic rhythms on Ver llorar desiertos, or the experimental sound collage of Franco is dead - the band's creative approaches rely on an extended sonic palette.

Diez tragos has a lot to offer, even if you can't follow the Spanish: music, emotion, and tone are universal.

Concert review - Ministry with Blackburner and Overcasters

It's always curious to see the strange mixes that come together for touring (e.g. B-52s opening for the Who). Evidently, Ministry decided that their new DefibrillaTour needed dubstep electronica duo Blackburner to properly prepare the audience. Like many in the crowd, I'm not sure that was the best pairing, but it did make for an interesting show.

Overcasters

I caught Overcasters when they opened for Sleepy Sun back in March. At that show, the drumming was amazing, but their lead guitar player overpowered the mix. Given that their web page had some great tracks, I was glad to get another chance to hear them.

This time, the mix was much better, delivering a Bauhaus swirl of doom. Thick walls of heartbeat bass and pounding drums sported a rich coat of feedback howl. Kurt Ottaway's echo-filled vocals presided over the top like a funerary rite.

Acid trails of guitar distortion were balanced by Joy Division bass drone to hit the sweet spot that Overcasters missed at the Sleepy Sun show. John Nichols proved that he could still summon the moans and shards of noise out of his lead guitar without denying the rest of the band.

The mix was more controlled, but Overcasters' stage presence still had a dynamic sense of abandon. Drummer Erin Tidwell would raise a stick in warning for the tom-punch to come. Ottaway crouched in on his guitar as if to shield it from the onlaught, only turn the hollow body into the amp to build the feedback higher.

The Ministry crowd might have wanted more shred or more metal grind, but they still respected Overcasters' satisfying guitar growl and solid drumming.

Blackburner

And now for something completely different. Blackburner's heavy dubstep style electronic jams had a lot of people shaking their heads. The bass heavy grind and dark spectacle formed a minor connection with Ministry, but that wasn't really common ground.

On their own merits, they had some good songs. The duo did some minor mixing on the fly, but they largely relied on preset tracks that they could shout over and tie in with the light show. They favored a hard edge dubstep mixed with rock samples and screeching techstep bleeps. Both Skyla Talon and K Kyle occasionally sported guitars, but it was hard to find anything guitar-like in the grinding sound of the mix.

Visually, it was a stunning show. The duo wore giant nightmare rabbit masks with light up eyes (and ears). Their fog machines ran through a limitless supply of fog fluid. While it was sometimes hard to actually see the stage, this formed a fine canvas the bright lights and lasers. With go-go dancers, shiny chaff balloons, and free tee shirt tosses, Blackburner didn't miss many gimmicks.

If it had been a Bassnectar show, this would have been crazy fun, but in this context, Blackburner were laughably excessive. It's funny how the wrong context can shift impressions.

Ministry

Ministry kicked off the show with Ghouldiggers from their new album Relapse. The high energy punch kicked the audience in the gut as Al Jourgensen proved the refrain, "I'm not dead yet/No, no, no". The buzz saw bass lines, screaming vocals, and shredding guitars showed that Ministry could still summon their classic sound with their new material. They'd go on to play a number of other new tracks like 99 Percenters, but they also disinterred enough of their back catalog to satisfy the crowd, hitting tracks like N.W.O., Thieves, Just One Fix, and Senor Peligro.

Standing center stage, flanked by guitars, Jourgensen played ringmaster. He directed the mosh pit like an orchestra, encouraging the thrash to begin with each new song. He took in the audience's adoration and enthusiasm and reflected it back to the crowd with a bemused smile. Then he'd sneer and growl the next set of lyrics as he clung to the mic. The latest incarnation of Jourgensen's mic stand (by Kevin Largent) was appropriately flashy, adding to the band's stage show.

Ministry's sound was loud as hell, but the guitars stayed distinct. Mike Scaccia's playing was tight as he casually tore through the setlist. Sin Quirin took his share of leads and he made the effort to connect with the fans in the balcony. The two axemen nailed the speedy sweep of chunky rhythms and screaming leads.

Of course, much of the band's dark tone comes from bottom end rhythm section. Casey Orr's bass rumbled like heavy machinery as Aaron Rossi's relentless double kick drumwork propelled the songs forward.

The true gauge of Ministry's power was in the audience response. Bodies slamming, heads banging -- the crowd was very physical, with everybody feeling the thrashy energy and reacting.

The only off note was Jourgensen's distracted behavior. Supposedly clean now, Uncle Al seemed a bit befuddled at times. Between songs, he dropped back to the amp line to check the song cues from a big binder. Several times, it was clear that the songs included a prerecorded vocal track that Jourgensen added to. It wasn't lip synched, but when he was slow to hit the mic, it was pretty obvious. The worst moments were when he strapped on a guitar, almost as a prop -- he seemed confused about what he should do with it.

The band's energy and Jourgensen's charisma brushed the weaker moments aside, though. The crowd poured out into the street pumped with the after-show buzz.

More photos on my Flickr.