REVIEW: SEALCLUBBER - STOICAL

Starting with a song titled “Tales of a Romanian Horse Whisperer,” UK mood-ruiners Sealclubber immediately bludgeon the listener with noisy sludge. Based on the prevailing sense of dread and hostility in the scabrous songs on Stoical, I’m guessing this horse whisperer has more in common with the deranged theatrics and animal mutilation of Equus than that Robert Redford snooze-fest.

Speaking of animal mutilation, you might have frowned at that band name already. If it’s any solace, the violent intentions of these songs don’t stop at aquatic mammals, and humans are very much in danger once pressing play. With their barbed riffs and the pitch-black ugliness of Drunk Dad and Trap Them, Sealclubber feel like Deadguy if they lasted long enough to have an experimental sludge phase. Like the bands mentioned, Sealclubber’s songs aren’t just sutured opiate-abusing crusty gutterpunk riffs tuned to the brown note. Even in a furious barnburner like “Haima,” the song scavenges elements of hardcore and stoner metal to create a richly textured soundtrack for giving and receiving shit news.

Despite a three-plus minute atmospheric interlude frustratingly murdering momentum, the album quickly regains its footing with “Vows of Silence.” Between suckerpunches of distortion, the reverb of callused fingers scraping over guitar strings leads to a foreboding bass tone that floats above the song like a storm cloud ready to empty apocalyptic rainfall.

It’s a fitting prelude to the disarmingly pensive epic “I Only Desire the Things That Will Destroy Me in the End.” That title likely applies to most fans of heavy music, whether it be regarding their bad habits, currently undiscovered crimes, or the headbanging riffs that will eventually snap their necks. The song proceeds patiently, feeling its way along desolate corridors. Two-thirds of the way through its almost twelve-minute runtime, the song confronts the bloody aftermath it was seeimngly trying to avoid. While the climax isn’t as destructive as hinted by the album’s first half, it still feels like the inevitable victory of baser instincts, where volume rules and subtlety burns away like bong resin. It’s a nuanced track that lingers in the listener’s mind long after it gently fades out.

While their two-song EP Sticky River was impressive, this is a definite leap forward for Sealclubber. While retaining their nihilistic bite, they also build soundscapes that reflect a rotting metropolis in a puddle of mud, blood, and petrol. Looking out my window right now, the view sure as hell sounds familiar.

Follow Sealclubber over on Facebook and check for news on a Stoical pre-order, available from Medusa Crush Recordings on February 5th.

REVIEW: SERPENT EATER - HYENA

Every once in a while I come across an album/movie/book that I feel was made specifically with me in mind, like the artist(s) crawled into my psyche, observed my absolute favorite things, and crafted something to transform my day from totally mediocre to fist-pumpingly awesome. Hyena, the newest album from Cologne, Germany’s Serpent Eater, is one of those albums that I consider a personal gift.

With an inspired mixture of wasteland sludge and icy, dizzying black metal, Hyena feels like Howl’s excellent Full of Hell LP if it spent its childhood scavenging rancid meat from sewer tunnels in an abandoned factory town. Released from Alerta Antifascista Records, this album is a mean, muscular, metallic beast that somehow sidesteps predictability while still featuring conservatively structured, contagious songs that would watch you for hours from the shadows, just to bite your throat out the moment you start dreaming.

Album opener “Ebola” introduces a mixture of bluesy groove and swirling, psychedelic black metal with demonic dual-vocals. “Last Cold Word” features more snarling, scorched riffs that bathe in the muck dividing Immortal and Dragged Into Sunlight, like black swamp water frozen during the first frost. The guitars capture a sense of gothic dread and still achieve nearly impossible catchiness. “In the Wall” invokes Slayer’s thrashing anger over a rumbling beat that builds to vicious grind, maintaining punk intensity even when injecting some dopesmoking harmonized guitars into the mix. Hyena closes with the dynamic track “Trepanation Nation,” featuring a blizzard of blastbeats and At the Gates riffage with a grimy underbelly of sludgy groove and lumbering explosions of hardcore.

Largely due to their cackling sounds and comedic-relief roles in The Lion King, most people don’t realize hyenas are surprisingly savage animals, and unexpectedly fierce foes that lions battle on a constant basis. It’s not unusual for a pack of hyenas to lure a mother lion away from her young, only to have another sneak in and feast on the babies. Not that Serpent Eater encourage the fervent murder of lion cubs, but it’s a reminder of the necessary cruelty of nature’s order, and right now Serpent Eater can quit relying on snakes for nourishment, because this album proves they’re a formidable predator quickly eating their way up the food chain. Despite some similarities to recent work by I Exist and Vaporizer, Hyena absolutely feels fresh and unique, and shows us what’s possible in extreme music when contrast, tone, mood, texture, and the art of a killer riff are all fully explored.

Check out Hyena, streaming on Bandcamp now, and available for a modest 4 EUR: http://alertaantifascistarecords.bandcamp.com/album/aa95-serpent-eater-hyena-lp

And follow them on Facebook to stay current with all their news:  https://www.facebook.com/SerpentEater

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: GOZU - THE FURY OF A PATIENT MAN

After recently catching Gozu at The Eye of the Stoned Goat festival at The Acheron, Small Stone Recordings were nice enough to send me their most recent album, The Fury of a Patient Man. Let me  be the first to tell you, an album title has seldom fit an album’s sound so well. Mixing explosive metallic riffs with the buzzed fuzz of stoner rock and one of the smoothest croons in loud rock, Gozu’s music absolutely sounds like a guy who’s most often composed finally unleashing his demons and frustrations. Luckily, the result isn’t a crime spree, but a collection of catchy hooks that walks that fine line between melody and aggression with grace and confidence.

“Bald Bull” features the croon I just mentioned, a weapon provided by Marc Gaffney, that approaches falsetto without ever seeming shrill. It’s the epitome of cool, and he helms the album with a rare quiet swagger. This song is the perfect introduction to Gozu’s brand of crunchy rock and captures their style in three and a half minutes that invoke both Fu Manchu and Eagles of Death Metal while remaining a totally separate, unique entity. The album is full of memorable cuts that use pop sensibility while never feeling formulaic. “Charles Bronson Pinchot” blasts with some of the heaviest moments on the album, and even dips into psychobilly (think: Reverend Horton Heat’s “Galaxy 5000”), “Traci Lords” delivers soaring guitars (provided by Gaffney and Doug Sherman) that crash into a haunting stretch of headbanging-inspiring distortion, and “Ghost Wipe” charges ahead with the unpredictable energy of Tomahawk, just amplified one hundred time louder.

There are a few promising songs that have moments of brilliance but don’t fully click: “Disco Related Injury,” besides being my favorite song title in a long god damn while, wastes some killer opening and bridge stoner riffs with a weak chorus, and despite the fun clap-along percussion of “Salty Thumb,” the song never kicks into the next gear. The wild-card on this album is the 23+ minute closer, “The Ceaseless Thunder of Surf,” which rides its riffs like a wave and uses Barry Spillberg’s excellent drumming to escalate the potentially patience-testing song to an experience like a pleasant psychedelic trip on a beach after eating some exotic cactus meat. The song’s extended length is a risk that definitely pays off.

The Fury of a Patient Man is a versatile, dynamic release that displays significant songwriting ability and remains accessible while never betraying its roots as a heavy rock album. Gozu can groove with the likes of Acrimony and Queens of the Stone Age, who also took the foundations of stoner rock and injected the sort of personality and vitality that resulted in landmark albums for the genre. Gozu are absolutely worth your time and attention, and despite crafting songs with super-charged distortion and muscular riffs they’re never less than approachable. It’s the sort of music that acts like a gateway drug to welcome reluctant listeners to heavy music. Also, Gozu might be the band I would most like to watch a movie marathon with, starting with Escape From New York, then Serial Mom, followed by their namesake, and ending with something on the grand scale of the Bronson-starring Once Upon a Time in the West, to match their grandiose closing song. Their movie taste almost matches their musical talent, and that’s high praise from an elitist film school prick like me.

Check out The Fury of a Patient Man on Bandcamp here and purchase it for $10:  http://smallstone.bandcamp.com/album/the-fury-of-a-patient-man

Also, check out Small Stone for more awesome releases. They’re conveniently having a sale with selected $5 CDs right now, so load up on some good stuff:  http://www.smallstone.com/

REVIEW: SHROUD EATER - DEAD ENDS

I have fond memories of discovering Floridian doom trio Shroud Eater when I first became acquainted with Bandcamp, listening to their ThunderNoise album while my sanity was flaking away like dried mud during an overnight shift. Their newest release, Dead Ends, significantly raises the bar and blasts them into the elite class of the stoner/sludge/doom genres. I don’t consider this shit-talking, but this album sounds like what a lot of people hoped Kylesa would release this year.

From the first rumbles of “Cannibals,” Shroud Eater welcome the listener into their appropriately dim, muddy audiosphere, with Janette Valentine’s bass tuned so low it’s like a dog-whistle made just for Cthulu. The (mostly) instrumental song sounds like summoning a gigantic beast from the black waters of a deep-sea lair, or maybe a psalm for some stoner deity, pleading to rain LSD down into the smoke-exhaling mouths of an hallucinating tribe. Felipe Torres’ percussion provides feral energy and hypnotic groove as “Sudden Plague” prowls forward, sprinkling in some elegant melody that sits atop the back of the song’s enormous sound like a brightly feathered bird on some tusked beast.

The sound on Dead Ends is so full and projects nearly supernatural size with its monolithic riffs that it’s difficult comprehending only three humans making the noise. It feels like it would take a cyclops herd or a band of morose swamp giants to create music this massive. Valentine and guitarist Jean Saiz both share vocalist duties, often joining in ethereal harmonies that remind me of John Baizley’s bittersweet melodies. “Lord of the Sword” and “The Star and the Serpent” both imitate waves crashing harder and harder against a shore as the music builds to a storm, which is fitting since the album’s tremendous single is titled “Tempest.” “Tempest” is a head-banging cruise on a battered warship through razor-waved waters infested with fanged squids. The song’s in turns pummelling and entrancing, clearing the fog with mystically reverberating clean guitar before sinking back into the murk as the mist rolls back in. Despite my affection for doom I’ve never warmed up to drone, but Dead Ends expertly uses drone hypnosis to build a stage strong enough to support the Kongh-heavy riffs.

With flashes of psychedelic lightning to match their ear-punching thunder, this is one storm you wish would last longer than 28+ minutes. And for the ultimate irony, for an album called Dead Ends, this album absolutely feels more like a black-iron gateway to a thousand different paths. No matter which one Shroud Eater takes, we’re all in for future storms we can look forward to.

Stream Dead Ends over on Bandcamp here and see why I’m making such a huge fuss over this album:  http://shroudeater.bandcamp.com/album/dead-ends-2

And check out their official website, with gig/merch information:  http://www.shroudeaterrocks.com/

REVIEW: BLACK SABBATH - 13

So it took me almost 3 weeks to listen to Black Sabbath’s new album, and I’m ashamed. I decided to head into listening to this album a few ticks before midnight, fittingly unsober, and live-Tweet my experience. Below are my streaming thoughts.

1. Here we go. "End of the Beginning." Sounds like the title track on Black Sabbath's self-titled. Just needs bell tolls.
2. Ozzy should have asked himself all of these questions when he was making that dirty MTV money.
3. Nice groovy riff reminds me of "Under the Sun." Entombed did a pretty crunchy cover of that I 1st heard as a "Same Difference" bonus track.
4. Iommi can play that solo over and over while I do any shitty chore and make it look awesome. Heavy metal dish washing, here I come.
5. Go get those higher register notes, Oz. Atta boy. Reminds me of when Tom Petty hit those "Freefallin" notes at the Super Bowl.

6. "God Is Dead?" Only song I've already heard already, but this time it's about 400 times louder and I'm considerably less sober.
7. This is really heavy, folks. And this vocal pattern is ultra catchy, even if Ozzy's voice has been fixed by robots.
8. I like the idea of God and Satan on his shoulders. Those angels are like God's interns, no power. Go straight to the top.
9. Forgot about this riff in the 6th minute. Makes me want to set myself on fire and ride a motorcycle to Hell's drive-in theater.
10. Pretty sure there are too many voices in Ozzy's head for him to hear what one specifically is saying.

11. "Loner" sounds like "Sweet Leaf" a little, huh? Like if they milked it of its swagger and made the guitars sound like RATM.
12. Speaking of Rage, Brad Wilk was a great choice for this album in theory, but so far it's been really uptight.
13. My top choices for drummers on this album: 1)Joe LaCazze/Eyehategod. 2)Kyle Spence/Harvey Milk. 3) Brad Wilk. And, oh yeah, Bill Ward.

14. "Zeitgeist." So far sounds like if Rick Rubin was ruining a Pink Floyd song.
15. This song would be so much better if Brooklyn band NAAM recorded it.

16. "Age Of Reason." Did someone tell Wilk to sever all of the personality out of his drumming? That dude's good, what's going on here?
17. Can hear a little of Edgar Winters' heavier stuff in this song. Makes me wish I was listening to "Frankenstein."
18. Half-way through the third minute this gets interesting. Flashes of hardcore, at least it's an influence past 1974.

19. "Live Forever." Depending on how you pronounce "live" it could also mean and endless concert.
20. Vocals wayyyyy high in the mix. Too bad because this heavy bluesy momentum is formidable.
21. When Ozzy says "Waiting for the rising of the moon" it made me picture him as a werewolf with round purple sunglasses.
22. The doomy part of this song makes me think of "I Want You "She's So Heavy" from The Beatles. Way underrated heavy riff.

23. "Damaged Soul." You should always buy shipping insurance before mailing a fragile soul. Common sense, Geezer.
24. Sounds like an "End of the Beginning" remix meant as a soundtrack for tongue kissing in a dark smoky room.
25. Most of these songs aren't bad, but Iommi is the only performer who sounds immortal on these record.
26. 6+ minutes in, and the harmonica finally makes sense. I wanna wear fabric torn from a priest's robe as a bandana and rock out.

27. "Dear Father." Lyrics sound serious, was hoping it was a letter penned in college asking daddy for drug money.
28. Sounds like Geezer is doing some cool stuff in that mix, but Rubin hid the bass. SEEN AND NOT HEARD, BASS LINE.
29. 4 minutes in the song grows balls, and then the vocals are so loud that they shrivel immediately.
30. FINALLY, WILK SHOWS UP. These are the sort of loose, flashy, mostly unnecessary fills that made Sabbath a real rock band. Nice ending.

31. “Methademic.” The intensity vanished for a little bit now, and this music would fit on Ghost's debut album, before they adopted BC.
32. Not among Iommi's best solos on this album. Sort of sounds tired, like maybe blood sugar is low and he needs some yogurt or a banana.
33. Song was crazy uneven, but a few of these moments are the hardest Sabbath has rocked on this album.

34. "Peace of Mind." I'll take "obvious wordplay" for $100. And "uninspiring riffs" for $200.
35. Another good Wilk performance at least, even though musically they sound more like Mr. Big than Black Sabbath right now.
36. They need to either Jethro Tull it up with a flute or Focus it up with rock'n'roll yodeling. Oh wait, Focus had flute too. FOCUS IT UP.

37. "Pariah." How dare Ozzy ever utter the words "addicted to sobriety," even if it's about someone else.
38. These riffs would have fit in with Kansas before they tried turning into shitty arena rock and changed their name to Black Kansas.
39. Clean guitar is only there to make the distortion sound heavier. It's like Bud Abbott to Lou Costello.
40. Rhyming "pariah" with "desire" deserves a high five and a hug.
41. ALBUM OVER. Inconsistent, but I had a good time. 6/10, would have a 7 if Rubin kept his beard out of everything.
42. Also, I like the album cover just for reminding me of the Nicolas Cage/Neil LaBute "Wicker Man" shitshow of a remake. #BlackSabbath

So 6/10 isn’t bad, right? As expected, moments of inspired rock’n’roll and some of their heaviest riffs to date, but revisiting their best work (either unintentionally or on the sly) and the frustrating production from Rick Rubin knocked off a few points. I’m not too upset by the whole enterprise, and I’m not even mourning how I spent a Friday night. Adequate job, guys. Adequate job.

REVIEW: OXXEN - S/T EP

Oxxen, a Tennessean doom/sludge trio, sounds like the Chattanooga Choo Choo has derailed at the stroke of midnight and plowed through forests filled with man-eating black bears and haunted oak trees, leaving behind a wreckage of splintered wooden limbs, bones, and fur. While the band’s name reminds me of ill-fated computer expeditions along the Oregon Trail (I always had at least two oxen drown when I chose to ford a river), the music evokes everything from the hardest-partying stoner rock to the murkiest grunge in Seattle’s days of pre-exploitation.

Their self-titled EP kicks off with “This Shit Ain’t Exactly Thunderdome.” This shit is, however, heavy enough to give Tony Iommi a boner from a continent away. When the distortion hits it can collapse weak hearts, and there’s a punk energy in this music that spits blood and teeth into the crowd. When the songs reach mid-to-uptempo they feel like they’d be right at home playing with Black Tusk, Red Fang, or Orange Goblin. (Editor’s note: Just checked the band’s gig history and it looks like they have played, or will play, with Black Tusk. Solid.)

“Stoic Men Under Ancient Lord” swaggers with reckless grunge intensity, taking the heaviest moments of Nirvana’s Bleach and the Melvins’ Houdini and dressing them up with armor and a battle axe. It features Bill Robinson's best lead guitar work on the album, whose voice sounds how I’d imagine Kurt Cobain would sound if he was still alive. The same hoarse shout, tone deepened from years of drinking cocaine and snorting whiskey, only occasionally concerned with weak shit like pitch and melody.

Oxxen close with the album’s highlight, the 10+ minute “Riddle of Steel.” This song revs its engines as loudly as the best biker metal out there before slowing to a Cathedral crawl until the seventh minute, where they return to the punk riffing and gruff aggression that propelled the EP’s opener. Oxxen’s roots may reach into traditional doom and the spirit of Sabbath and Pentagram, but there is a fist-pumping, binge-drinking sense of immediacy and toughness to this release that gives me the hunch these dudes are a totally killer live band. Just because you can flatten a forest with your slowest riffs doesn’t mean you can’t chop the keg open with an axe and party sometimes.

This EP is currently FREE on Bandcamp, so check it out and throw them some bones if you enjoy it as much as I do:  http://oxxen.bandcamp.com/album/oxxen

And follow them on Facebook for future news on gigs and merch:  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Oxxen

REVIEW: KYLESA - ULTRAVIOLET

We all suffer from demons of defilement at some point. I won’t pretend to totally understand the ins, outs, and what-have-yous of the Kilesa Mara mentioned in Buddhism, but they seem to represent the factors that delude us and cloud our minds, like greed and ignorance. Kylesa were named after some of these strong forces, but after listening to their newest album Ultraviolet I don’t think the music is suffering from any of these “mind poisons.” This is a daring, expansive album building from their psychedelic crunch and double-drummer pummel , full of large ideas and progressive melodies. Unfortunately, with great experimentation comes a varying degree of success. Still, you can’t make progress through the forest without stepping into a few ditches and bear traps along the way.

The familiar sludgy Savannah stomp roars from the opening seconds on “Exhale,” featuring the best tandem vocal work on the album as Laura Pleasants and Phillip Cope trade barbed lyrics with venom and conviction. The song feels like riding red waves on a splinter of driftwood, surrounded by sharks and figuring out how you’re going to kill all these finned bastards with the guitar on your back as your only weapon. Opening with the most vicious song on the album may make what follows slightly disarming for those seeking more of the same mud and blood. But clearly those listeners weren’t paying enough attention to the moments of light in Spiral Shadow, because those seeds of melody have blossomed here, an album later. Sure, there’s the massive stoner riffs of “Grounded” and the excellent bong-blitzed burner “Vulture’s Landing,” but most of the album is more pensive, brooding, and eases forward with entrancing rhythm and nearly oxymoronic bright melodies that paint the black’n’gray sky with strokes of turquoise and (ultra)violet.

Some of these songs work beautifully, like the Porno For Pyro smoking hesher hash vibe of “Quicksand,” and “Low Tide,” which captures spacey new wave pop that could get the goth kids at the nearest cellar night club two-stepping. Others struggle with delivering the melodic undercurrent without distracting from the main pull of the song, or worse yet, murder the momentum. “Steady Breakdowns” suffers from the latter, kicking off with witchy occult rock before vanishing into smoke and space dust as the song loses focus. “Drifting” is just a mess, unfortunately closing the album with a bombardment of disagreeing parts played with the enthusiasm of a guilty elegy. The overall results may be inconsistent, leading to frustrating so-god-damn-close moments where you understand that sometimes less is definitely more, but it’s also fascinating and inspiring. Beneath the proggy spazz-outs and the lightning strikes of pop melody this is still a loud rock album, just one that values patience and excitedly experiments with tone. In the middle of the record Pleasants sings that “You have lost your soul.” After listening to this record it’s clear she’s not singing to a mirror, because Kylesa is displaying more soul and courage than any previous recording, even if it doesn’t pound mountains to dust like Static Tensions.

Listen to Ultraviolet now on Spotify and check out Kylesa over at Season of Mist:  http://www.season-of-mist.com/bands/kylesa

And check them out on Facebook. With over 47,000 likes it’s not like they need you, but I heard they think you’re cool and funny and stuff:  https://www.facebook.com/KYLESAmusic