The Fierce and the Dead—Spooky Action (Bad
Elephant)
I came to this British instrumental quartet
by way of guitarist Matt Stevens, whose clever, loop-centric solo albums I got
into last year. The Fierce and the Dead aren’t simply a showcase for Stevens;
they sound like a proper band…they are
a proper band, dammit. All four musicians hit it pretty hard. TFatD do their own
thing within the prog-instrumental realm, exploiting a variety of dynamics and
styles. Spooky Action kicks ass with a sly smile on its face. Sometimes they’re
heavy and mathy; often they’re playful. Bits of King Crimson and Voivod (if I
didn’t already know these guys are fans, Kevin Feazey’s bass tone would give it
away) vie with Shadowy Men and Cuneiform stalwarts Forever Einstein to provide
the crucial crunchy/catchy balance. There’s a post/alt/noise-rock streak
running through it too. It’s an entertaining listen and one of the most
immediately appealing albums I heard all year.
Teeth of the Sea—Master (Rocket)
The eclectic ecstasy that is Master provided one of my more memorable
first listens of 2013. The dancefloor machine beat of “Reaper” had me wondering
what I’d gotten myself into. Who was this band that dared commit electronica in
my household? Then the live drums arrived, along with a female chorale and a
ripping guitar solo beneath a barrage of synths. What the almighty hell was
this? “Reaper” is the album in microcosm, though—a cunning, shifting construct
that dares you to follow it to an alien destination. By the end of side one,
Teeth of the Sea become an evil metal band, grinding away on a slow-mo
Slayeresque riff like some project on Southern Lord. Teeth of the Sea are free
spirits; you can project anything on them and they’ll reflect it back in a
jillion different wavelengths. A lot of bands get the “new Pink Floyd” tag, but
I think Teeth of the Sea deserve it. They capture the eccentric essence of
their nation, as a collective of grim fantasists leaving psychedelic murals on
damp concrete.
Gorguts—Colored Sands (Season of Mist)
Speaking of Voivod, they weren’t the only
legendary Quebec-based metal band to undergo renewal in 2013. Band leader Luc Lemay
assembled an avant-death metal dream team for Gorguts’ first album in 12 years.
On drums, John Longstreth of Origin. On guitar, Kevin Hufnagel of Dysrhythmia.
And on bass, Hufnagel’s bandmate, Colin Marston. It takes a special breed to
keep up with Lemay, and these guys are well up to the job. The production and
mix show some nice touches, with Lemay’s vocals mixed way back and the drums
sounding quite natural for a DM album. At over an hour in length, it does lose
me a couple of times, but I’ve found that, given many months to absorb it all,
the songs are well structured. Certain tracks, like “Le Toit du Monde” and
“Ember’s Voice” do get stuck in my head. Brutal, disturbing and haunting, it
delivered exactly what I’d hoped for—a masterclass in visionary death metal in
a field that has become overrun with Gorguts disciples since their 1998
masterpiece Obscura.
Voivod—Target Earth (Century Media)
Voivod invented music, pretty much. I
reference them probably more than any other band. Jarring rhythms and Piggy chords
follow me everywhere I go. After two albums of material built from the tracks
left behind by Piggy (RIP), Voivod return as a working band, featuring the
original three members plus Daniel “Chewy” Mongrain on guitar. The results are,
for the most part, glorious. Mongrain is immensely skilled, and his riffs,
chord voicings and use of effects indicate that he’s clearly the man for the
job. Away is there with his characteristic loose-limbed thrash beats—Abaddon by
way of Bill Bruford. Blacky’s bass sound? Check. Snake, as always, excels at
draping powerful, memorable melodies over a complex framework. But Target Earth is a complicated album, not just in the “difficult music” sense. It should have been
my favourite album of the year. Instead I’m featuring in the middle of the
pack. I’m not sure why. Some days I feel that it’s a couple tracks too long,
and that certain songs, like “Kaleidos”, get bogged down in recycled,
post-consumer Voivod motifs. On other occasions, I’ll have shuffle mode on and
some previously dismissed Target Earth track will come on and completely redeem
itself. Anyway, it’s good to have Voivod around still, and I hope with Chewy on
board they’ll find new ways to be weird on the next album.
VHOL—s/t (Profound Lore)
VHOL is a Ludicra/YOB alliance, and it does
not mess around. This debut album engages in sustained savagery at RSI-inducing
tempos. I hear echoes of early Voivod in John Cobbett’s combustible and
discordant guitar playing, not to mention the blower bass tone that is revealed
on “Grace.” Vocalist Mike Scheidt’s always had a versatile voice, and here he alternates
between a T. Warrior bark and his higher-register mode. He does an amazing job
with such caustic material. When he launches into the first verse of “Insane
with Faith” the urge to break stuff is strong. And he takes a soulful turn
during a moody section of “Song Set to Wait Forever” that’s very impressive
indeed. These longish songs (five to eight minutes) reach terminal velocity
quite quickly; however, the plateaus of noise are dotted with moments of
intrigue and excitement, like the smooth, Brian May-like lead breaks in “Plastic
Shaman” or the phased drum roll that takes “Illuminate” over the top. It’s
great being loud and fast, but I want personality above all, and VHOL certainly
have it. Such well-developed material elevates them well above the black/crust
mire and makes me hope that this album won’t be a one-shot deal.
1 comment:
I found out that my old blog was still hanging around the internet, so I'm visiting everyone on my old blog roll and saying hi. Glad to see that you are still around!
My new Url is:
http://www.fred-charles.com
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