REVIEW: GURT / LIMB - SPLIT ROAST

I don’t always review albums song by song, but when I do, it’s usually a Witch Hunter Records release. The newest album from the DIY label based in the UK is a truly collaborative effort from two filthy sludge bands with varying approaches to the subgenre. On this split EP, both bands include, in order, one new original song, a cover of their choosing, and a cover of a song by the other band sharing the split. I absolutely love this approach, as it invites some playful competition and camaraderie as well. Here are my thoughts on each song:

GURT

1) Sophisticate - Gurt start the hunting party with a throbbing rhythm and a thick, mucky sound that invokes Slabdragger and the bluesy flourishes and brawny chugging of late-career Pantera. Take old Chicago electric blues, channel it through an Orange amp, then dip it in hot tar and vulture feathers. The vocals from Growth/Gareth Kelly sound like the crusty howls of a swampland degenerate from a Cormac McCarthy novel.

2) Psycho Killer - Yep, a Talking Heads cover. There’s the initial, beard-growing bass tone from Spice/David Blakemore, then the novelty of hearing David Byrne’s voice replaced by the caustic roar of a gutter demon. Parts of the song feel a bit rigid (the fa-fa-fas don’t work quite as well as the ay-ay-ays, for those  familiar with the moments of non-lyrical vocals), but the last minute of sprawling, trippy rock is totally inspired, and Gurt own this song and make it their own monster.

3) Gift of the Sun - Covering the title track of the last Limb EP, Gurt extend the psychedelic rock with shades of Church of Misery’s quietest moments, and then rips a hole in the earth’s crust with a riff that could summon Cthulhu for its turn at the hookah. This song is seriously, supernaturally heavy.

LIMB

1) Plaguedoctor - Groovy sludge that’s closer to stoner metal with its hallucinogenic bounce, like Electric Wizard without the occult, just a perpetually loaded bong and a bathtub full of homemade swill. Great song, catchy as hell is hot. Rob Hoey’s vocals remind me of LG Petrov from Entombed, if his throat was shredded from acid tab paper cuts.

2) Son and Daughter - Covering a supremely heavy Queen song from their debut album, Limb explore gender roles with a strong, Sabbath stomp. I was expecting some harmonica to join the fray, as this song feels like it’s dressed up in a denim jacket with fringe. They cut the hacky synth effects that plague the original and trim it down to basics, resulting in awesome throwback heavy rock with raw-doggin’ attitude.

3) Soapfeast - Choosing a Gurt song from another split, the shared EP with Dopefight, Limb soak in the joys of profanity and all its unexpected combinations, as the vocals are the most diseased on the EP as they chant the mantra “you really don’t give a cunting fuck.” The song itself has a surprisingly low-key, smoke-a-spliff-in-the-van’s-back-seat energy, apart from one dangerously bombastic release of fury.

In summary, I had a blast with this entire release. Sludge is often considered one of the more misanthropic genres, riddled with tales of addiction and hatred and self-loathing. But on Split Roast, Gurt and Limb both scoop their sloppy, delicious gruel onto the listener’s plate and growl with a grin, “Eat up, you cunting fuck.” And that’s music to my ears.

Listen to Gurt and Limb over here, where Witch Hunter Records always makes the albums available as a “Name your price” download. Then buy the CD, which is made with a completely DIY mentality, and features artwork from the bands:  http://witchhunterrecords.bandcamp.com/album/split-roast

Add Gurt here on Facebook, and follow their swampy reign:  https://www.facebook.com/GURTsludge

And do the same for Limb, while convincing them to record the Queen epic “The Prophet’s Song” in the future:  https://www.facebook.com/LimbTheBand

REVIEW: MOUNT SALEM - ENDLESS

 

 

Somewhere in or around Chicago (my gut tells me Ravenswood) there is a coven of witches with impeccable musical taste who conjured Mount Salem from a smoking cauldron of black water. There is very little information available about the members of Mount Salem but the music they’ve created on Endless feels supernatural and triggers my overactive imagination. I’m not sure of the exact recipe the coven used, but it goes something like this: A heavy broth base of massive doom riffs, healthy doses of doped-up Muddy Waters electric Chicago blues, a splash of garage rock (from the darkest imaginable garage, built on an old burial ground), and a hallucinogenic pinch of occult rock psychadelia. And eye of newt, of course. Somewhere there’s a very sad pack of blind newts swimming aimlessly in a bog.

From the opening quote on “Good Times,” provided by none other than Charles Manson, Endless exists on a twisted, ethereal plain anchored by metallic heaviness while supporting the soothing vocals of their female lead singer. A minute into the song there’s already mention of burned churches, and with this musical accompaniment you can picture someone walking through the ashes enjoying the fragrance like floral incense. This is music that creates images, demands attention, and engages all senses. Endless is also accessible in the best of ways: It does not betray its heaviness with catchiness and melody. The riffs that carry these songs on their backs compare favorably to some of the best work by Sleep and Electric Wizard and feel like gentle giants: Huge in size and sound, but displaying soul.

Every song on this album is essential. Even “Mescaline,” the mid-album instrumental intermission, now a staple within the doom genre, is the perfect somber, dreamy departure from the heavy crunch of the rest of the record. Mount Salem has also already perfected what I call “psychedelic dirges,” where the keyboards and vocals dance slyly, even seductively, over ominous, heavily distorted breakdowns. It has all the same mystery and beauty of a Dario Argento horror scene, complete with the stylized bloodletting. Endless ironically concludes with “The End,” perhaps the best example of musicianship on the album, including every element of their signature sound, from smoky, goth blues to brutally loud, fuzzy stoner rock. This song will be my lullaby for a long time.

Endless feels like it’s trapped in the nightmarish head-space of a psychic medium on a bad trip. This is another album that I feel I could play for diehard metalheads and curious rock fans who may be unfamiliar with doom and receive enthusiastic responses from both. While the vocalist may sing that “this is the end of everything,” as a fan of heavy music I will gladly delay the apocalypse for a few more albums from Mount Salem.

Listen to the album here and support the band on their merch page:  http://mountsalem.bandcamp.com/album/endless

And follow them on Facebook to learn more about their upcoming tour:  https://www.facebook.com/MountSalem