REVIEW: HELA - BROKEN CROSS

One of the perks of metal band research is the dramatically increased knowledge of all things morbid. For every band name that is just some conglomeration of the words Dark/Iron/Goat there is one that actually enlightens you. Such is the case with Hela, a Spanish psychedelic doom band with a stoner rock foundation, who named their band after a Norse goddess of Death, usually described as being half beautiful woman and half skeleton, who happens to be a compassionate caretaker for the souls of those whose deaths were not caused by combat.

On Broken Cross, Hela’s sound has a similar dichotomy; strikingly heavy with surface-level intimidation but a heart of gold beneath the sinister shroud. On “Horns of God” and “Wicked King” they establish their modus operandi: Playing towering, groovy riffs with bluesy NOLA sensibilities as Isabel Sierras’ mystic voice floats above the din like notes played from a flute crafted from human bone. Throughout the album the lead guitar is incredibly restrained, so relaxed you can picture the guitarist playing eyes-closed with a spliff dangling haphazardly from his lips. The uninspiring lead guitar is one of the main reasons songs like “March of the Minotaurs” and “Black Eagle” seem to plod a bit, just chewing up track time as the rhythm section works at the same riff like a piece of tough jerky, trying to keep it all headbangable. In the metal world, headbangable = bangable.

There are nice moments here, even when the music feels a bit predictable, like the soulful blues licks kicking off “Flesh Ceremony” and the confident double-bass swagger of “Slave of the Witch,” but several of these songs dawdle too much for my liking. These tracks have mainstream rock accessibility but linger too long while falling in love with their own riffs. There are some catchy melodies and good ideas, but I feel this album needs a radio edit to make it as concise as possible for it to reach its full potential. I just suggested a radio edit, which means somewhere a true metal warrior is now planning my assassination and sharpening a spiked mace. I really don’t have a problem with nine minute songs, but you have to earn that length, and Hela rely too much on flourishes that are ultimately distracting, like the looooooong barely-audible movie clips beginning and closing the album.

There’s no shortage of fuzzy, spaced-out doom riffage on Broken Cross. If you want some music to accompany you on long desert drives through a landscape that seems to morph like a lava lamp, this is your jam. The album is approachable and safe and washes its hands before and after dinner, but it can still let its hair down and rock enough to break a sweat. Overall, Hela just need to trim the fat, challenge the lead guitarist a bit, and quit spending so much time with all those peaceful underworld souls, ‘cause they aren’t the rowdiest crowd on the block.

Listen to the album streaming over at Bandcamp at:  http://discosmacarras.bandcamp.com/album/broken-cross

And check out their Facebook page for more information:  https://www.facebook.com/Helaband

ART: BRITTANY BINDRIM

With the newest issue of Kung Fu Breakfast less than a week away (this month’s theme: Tales of the Internet), I was privy to a sneak peek at the cover art by Brittany Bindrim by editor Jay Kantor. It’s maniacal, pulpy, and gorgeous. Much like last month’s cover from Caitlin Anne, this is the sort of art that makes me proud to be a part of such a dynamic, exciting publication.

Brittany is an artist, musician, entrepreneur, and graphic design guru who is the founder of Black Dove Design Company and the songwriter/vocalist of I:Scintilla, a band that defies easy genre categorization but flirts with synth pop, trip-hop, and indie electro. She has a versatile illustration style but I have selected work by her that I think matches the overall aesthetic of this blog: Macabre, creepy, and beautifully stark. She’s a striking talent and her work would be perfect for a variety of metal styles. I could see her designs as a cover for anyone from Kylesa to The Dillinger Escape Plan.

(PRO TIP: CLICK PICTURES FOR A LARGER  VIEW AND MORE BAD ASS DETAIL.)

Brittany says of her artwork,  “I honestly cannot remember a day that art was not in my life. At an early age, I found a way to escape reality and get lost in the dreamscape of creating art and have lived there ever since. With compelling vision and true passion, I aim to create memorable and meaningful illustrations with magical realism. Working as a graphic designer and art director for over 6 years has given me an innovative design sense to construct elaborate images and nurtured my bold graphic style.

“My latest body of work consists of pen and ink illustrations drawn with obsessive organic detail. These pieces have been fueled and inspired by dreams and nightmares, anxiety, the streets of New Orleans, the poetry of Charles Bukowski, conspiracy theories, and the horrors of the 9 to 5. I have been hypnotized by the pen to create rich black and white surrealist imagery. The organic vines and veins repeated in the work symbolize a complex and puzzling interconnectedness we have with the one another, nature, and the modern world.”

Check out more of her art and design work and find contact information at:  http://www.blackdovedesigncompany.com/

Prints of her amazing work can be purchased here:  iscintilla.imagekind.com

And listen to I:Scintilla’s music, streaming over at:  http://www.iscintilla.com/?page_id=8

I:Scintilla are releasing a new EP on May 3rd. You can check out a preview track here:

https://soundcloud.com/iscintilla/ruin

Many thanks to Brittany for allowing me to share her work! I will post links to the next issue of Kung Fu Breakfast when it’s officially released so you can all marvel at her mind-frying skill.

REVIEW: COUGH / WINDHAND SPLIT (REFLECTION OF THE NEGATIVE)

Reflections of the Negative features two colossal doom bands from Richmond, VA, both on Relapse Records. I just listened to this split album a couple times on repeat and I’m pretty sure the music impregnated me and a baby demon is now forming in some egg of sulphur in my tummy. Not gonna be fun shitting that out, but this split was totally worth the future discomfort.

The opening of Cough’s 18 minute track, “Athame,” sounds eerily similar to the music created by the coven of black-toothed witches in The Lord of Salem, a film I found tedious and completely uninspiring. This song, which plods defiantly into oblivion for nine minutes before switching gears into an even more unpleasant circle of hell, features more suspense and chills then that film mustered in 101 minutes. The connection to witchcraft isn’t just a convenient bridge into mentioning my recent film reviews either, as an “athame” is a ceremonial dagger used in many neopagan witchcraft traditions. Like the dagger, the percussion cuts through the suffocating fog of black smoke just enough for Parker Chandler’s strangled vocals to sneak through the forest of briars. Halfway through the song, when the lyrics announce “the time has come for sacrifice,” you can picture a procession of hooded figures lead by a single dying lantern flame to a black altar crafted from burnt bones and warped wood. The droning chant, soaked with reverb and haunted to the core, accompanies pummeling drums that rejoin the heavy groove of the main riff leading into the thirteenth minute. It’s all entirely captivating, a testament to the power of one ungodly riff and a whole lot of phantasmal atmosphere. Try listening to this in some woodlands after dusk without something dead rising from the rotten leaves and muck.

As the album’s chaser, Windhand is the spoonful of sugar that helps the medicine go down, if the medicine is actually laced with the blood of a leprous monk and poison sumac. The riffs are similarly massive and leaden, but while Cough just try to get through the woods alive, Windhand seem to have found the safest clearing and stroll there a little bit. Sure, they’re surrounded by the skeletons of ill-fated travelers, but the way the light bounces off their skulls and femurs is kinda pretty at this hour. “Shepherd’s Crook” features some soaring lead guitar and Dorthia Cottrell’s vocals wind between the pine trees to awaken some ancient evil. But of the two songs “Amaranth” leaves the largest impression in the mud, with resourceful drumming from Ryan Wolfe powering the attack. it turns out that Amaranth is a blossoming weed that has symbolized immortality reaching back to early Greek mythology. Windhand’s music is similarly everlasting, as you can find roots of this music in ancient incantations and the rawest forms of blues. Both of these bands show up at the top of their form on this split, making it essential listening for fans of doom, sludge, or extreme occult rock. When that demon egg hatches I’m gonna name it Coughand, and this album will be his lullaby.

Listen to the album over at Bandcamp and feel the black magic consume you:  http://coughwindhand.bandcamp.com/album/reflection-of-the-negative

And order the beautiful vinyl LP from Relapse over at:  http://www.relapse.com/label/catalog/product/view/id/83006/s/reflection-of-the-negative-lp-white-and-black-splatter/category/52/

REVIEW: EVIL DEAD / LORDS OF SALEM

I moseyed down to a local cineplex yesterday for a twin-bill showing of Evil Dead, the remake (re-imagining, whatever) of the Sam Raimi classic, and The Lords of Salem, Rob Zombie’s newest flick. I just wanted to share a few thoughts on each movie.

Evil Dead establishes early that the viewer should not expect shlock or camp. Apart from a few minor bloody fingerprints of dark comedy, this is deadly serious start to finish. The screenplay (collaboratively written by four people, including director Fede Alvarez) works hard to illustrate the dramatic weight of each relationship impacting David, played by Shiloh Fernandez. From his junkie sister to his nurse friend with sexual tension to his childhood friend who has since soured on him, there is plenty at stake when most of these people die. Interestingly enough, his girlfriend seems to carry the least dramatic significance, which just never bodes well for a character’s fate. The dialogue in these early scenes is pretty stilted, and you can feel the wheels churning as they rush to introduce all relevant information before the bloodshed kicks in. When it does, where your ponchos, ‘cause it gets messy. This movie has a serious vendetta against human limbs. There are some really solid set-pieces with nasty FX and slimy sound, like Jessica Lucas’ creepy, cringe-inducing turn. Evil Dead aims to terrify, disgust, and delight gorehounds. While the scares aren’t as effective as the gruesome effects (which mostly avoid the trappings of bad CG), this is still a genre offering I would encourage horror fans to give a chance, even if they are reluctant due to the pedigree of the original film. But Evil Dead is a totally different animal. For instance, it doesn’t have “The” in the title. Jane Levy, who plays the recovering addict Mia, steals the show with her deranged, physical performance. She drools, crawls, screams, and creepily grins her way through violent personality shifts in the most crucial role of the film.

I then used my stealth skills to crawl on the ceilings and jump shadow to shadow to find my way to The Lords of Salem theater. Rob Zombie is one of those directors (like Tim Burton, David Lynch, or Alejandro Jodorowsky) that has his own stamp of style, a mark (of the devil) that is undeniably his own. Unfortunately, his trademark gallows humor only pumps out in inconsistent spurts, and we’re left with a film that is both thematically sprawling, physically claustrophobic, disinterested in narrative clarity and the relationships between its characters after the second act, and equates to a long stare at a painting. As the lead character, a radio DJ with a mysterious connection to Salem’s bloody history of witchcraft persecution, Sheri Moon Zombie is entirely passable. The range required for the role isn’t tremendous, but she’s appropriately amiable to receive our sympathies, and a victim of circumstance entirely beyond her control. The real trouble is that all the work to develop her character is discarded as the “LET’S SEE HOW CRAZY THIS CAN GET” approach takes lead, resulting in an eye-rolling number of dream sequences and inexplicable location changes. It feels like this was written in the same day-to-day manner as Lynch’s Inland Empire, a similar occasionally captivating but mostly deeply flawed film that left me disappointed. Most of The Lords of Salem felt like a reason to see how hot Rob Zombie’s wife is, and how awesomely her character’s apartment is decorated. Stylistically this film definitely aspires to be The Shining by way of Rosemary’s Baby, as directed by Jean Rollin, who never saw a lady draped in sheer cloth he didn’t feel compelled to film. I have long admired Zombie’s passion for film, his jubilant cinematic voice that brings a refreshing, approachable quality to a grindhouse mentality, but this lumbering, tedious film was barely worth my sneaky zero-dollar admission fee. But hey, genre heroes Ken Foree and Dee Wallace camp it up and have some fun, so that’s cool, right?

REVIEW: SPLIT - PARASITIC SKIES / LOSING SKIN

North Carolina’s Headfirst! Records were one of my first ten followers on Twitter (@MisterGrowl). My followership has since DOUBLED, as Mister Growl prepares to challenge Ashton for the Twitter throne. (Update: 1 follower left this morning. Back down to 19. OH GAWD LIFE IS MEANINGLESS.) I checked out a few of their releases and wanted to cover this split release from Parasitic Skies and Losing Skin, two formidably quarrelsome hardcore bands who have never met a mosh pit that was too rowdy.

Formed in Seattle, WA, Parasitic Skies launch into a metallic hardcore attack in “The Void” before closing with swampy sludge riffs. The vocals are reminiscent of Dwid Hellion’s work with Integrity, if they were dipped in tar and raised in the wild by black bears. “The Throat of the Sleeping Sun” is a meaty slab of chugging hardcore punk with crusty flourishes and a groovy bass line that knows there is a voice inside your brain whispering “headbang headbang headbang” and amplifies that voice to the point you can’t ignore it. Also, if you didn’t think spelling mattered, just think if the last word in that song title was “son.”

Losing Skin are basically Parasitic Skies’ neighbors, both in proximity (hailing from Spokane, WA) and sound. You could picture them both sharing a civil, vegan family meal before they put this split album on a record player and the whole feast is immediately obliterated in a vicious circle pit. “Depressor” starts with a mean-spirited riff that plows through Seasons in the Abyss territory before falling off a cliff into an ocean of bass feedback and droning room tones. “Time Crawling By Me” feels like crust punk on tranquilizers, lumbering a bit before some really nasty blackened guitar licks close out the song. The bonus track for digital downloads is “Destroyer’s Crown,” a song with attitude and swagger that tricks you into thinking it’s metalcore before going for your nearest major artery with thrash-by-way-of-Darkthrone riffs that demand the sacrifice of your favorite relative.

Go check out Headfirst! Records and listen to their releases, all available for free downloads. Find out more information on upcoming releases and keep an eye on their roster of talent, there’s some seriously aggressive music hatching over there.

Listen to the Parasitic Skies / Losing Skin split album here: http://headfirstrecords.bandcamp.com/album/hf-09-parasitic-skies-losing-skin-split-7in-2

And check out Headfirst! records over here: http://www.page63.com/

Oh yeah, and follow Headfirst! over on Twitter @HeadfirstRecs

REVIEW: ANCIIENTS - HEART OF OAK

Sometimes potential legal battles over band names lead to the addition of “B.C.” or maybe the simple precursor “The.” In the case of Anciients it was an additional “I” smack-dab in the middle, assisting the logo’s symmetry. It was a worth-while modification for a band eager to avoid future conflict, especially when their material is so god damn good that anyone eager to suck the teet of the black-hearted cash cow might come running when this band explodes in the rock world. I don’t often think of albums in terms of future “Top Ten” list rankings but after finishing Anciient’s first full-length, Heart of Oak, I can say with as much confidence as a perpetually self-deprecating pessimist can muster that this album will be on a slew of end-of-year lists.

Heart of Oak is destined to be a word-of-mouth metal phenomenon, shared fan-to-fan with countless excited listeners anxious to blast this album into a friend’s ear with the opening plug, “If you dig [Insert Band Here] you are going to love this shit.” All band references within this review are not meant to say that Anciients are riding on coat-tails, impersonating, or even receiving inspiration from the mentioned acts, they are just the convenient reference points, the kind used when hyping a new album conversationally when you’re shoulder-to-shoulder at a bar, eager to talk about THAT album that kicked your butthole into a blackhole in the past month.

Anciients have brewed up a wily batch of songs on Heart of Oak that combine the earthy harmonies of Baroness, the slippery, progressive leanings of Opeth, and a meaty layer of metallic sludge like the blue-collar please-hold-the-horseshit crunch of Howl. Kenny Paul Cook’s clean singing sounds a bit sweeter than Baroness’ Baizley, like he gargles with honey straight from the comb. But when he screams it feels like his voice is a leaf curling in a fire, becoming this seared, gnarled pile of ash and organic membranes. He’s a fitting narrator for the expeditions detailed in Heart of Oak, where flanked by ominous acoustic passages and nimble aggression Anciients creates a world with inspiring vistas and lethal wastelands.

Between the doom-drenched lurch of “Falling in Line” and the suitably winding nine-minute highlight “The Longest River,” Anciients initiate you into the kaleidoscopic nature of their music and all the shifting shapes and colors it includes. Despite having a firm grasp on the enchanting power of melody they rarely stay in one place long, building and sustaining suspense, sort of like the movie monster who hides out of frame as long as possible as the body count grows. From the jagged black metal of “Faith and Oath” to the dope-smoking Summer of Love jam “For Lisa” (which totally sounds like they hail from Alabama instead of Vancouver), Anciients cover a lot of musical ground on Heart of Oak, and all of it with a natural, organic quality that feels excavated directly from the soil of some long-forgotten mass grave, now covered in poisonous mushrooms and moss. The energy does dip a bit in the second half of this album, but there is still so much technical prowess and songwriting skill from start to finish that this is a minor complaint. Not everything can be as symmetrical as that logo with those two gorgeous I’s.

This is the time to buy into Anciients. Support the band by seeing them on tour (on tour now, actually, on the DEATH TO ALL bill), purchasing their music and some of their beautiful merch (I’m seriously crushing on this album cover). Then, in a couple years when the trust-fund kids with hundred dollar haircuts are digging the band too, you can own the right to be smug about the fact you knew they were awesome first.

Listen to Heart of Oak over here at Bandcamp and see for yourself:  http://anciientriffs.bandcamp.com/

Then visit their page at Season of Mist and put some of your rainy day money down, ‘cause it’s raining somewhere:  http://season-of-mist.com/bands/anciients

ART: KIM MARRA

 

 

Never underestimate the visual element of music. From Elvis to Screamin’ Jay Hawkins to Alice Cooper to the horned altar thing Dragged Into Sunlight drags lugs show to show, rock’n’roll has always held the power of intense imagery close. This is one of the reasons I like to feature visual artists on this site. The other: Sense of artistic community. The artists covered may not be metal fans, or even considered “extreme,” but their serious talent can convey the entire spectrum of emotion, from rage and loneliness to jubilation. There’s metal for every mood, and that’s a massive part of why I feel there should be more artistic awareness about the diversity of heavy metal music. So while my main goal is to cover a sprawling genre that I adore, there’s a larger mission here, and that’s both introducing curious people to the wonders of metal as well as introducing metal fans to new talent as well.

Today I’m proud to present work from Kim Marra, a painter, pickleback enthusiast, and prolific pencil-collector based in New York state. Here’s Kim’s artist statement concerning her newest series of paintings:

 

“Through my paintings, I construct environments. I build seemingly possible, yet impossible spaces using elements of architecture and furniture. My environments speak to both dreamlike worlds and industrial landscapes. I use an ordered structure to create the illusion of stability, and skewed perspectives to provoke instability. I use this tension to simultaneously surround and close off, welcome and turn away. My paintings are inspired by architectural spaces that feel inhabitable, yet uneasy. For me these spaces mimic the impossible realities that I work toward. I use bright unnatural colors to further alter the viewers experience within this other world. Through these methods, I agitate a personal and collective sense of safety.”

 

Check out these paintings and tell me you can’t see a sludgy hardcore band using these as an album cover, or some grind band with furious signature changes. You can find more information on her work and contact information on her website here: http://kimberlymarra.wordpress.com/

 

Many thanks to Kim for allowing us to share her work!