metal

Living Ghosts

admin — Sun, 01 Aug 2010 00:00:00 +0000

Attention all ye steampunk aficionados, Absinthe Junk accomplishes what their name implies—they’re a fitting band for your gears, gadgets, corsets, and metal-worked jewelry! Their press album, Living Ghosts presents an adequate sampling of their haunting metal sound.

A time-tested combination of steely guitars and an ethereal lead female voice place the band solidly within a genre recognized by metal, rockers, and goth fans alike. The difference, however, is that Blair, the lead singer, dabbles in more than a soft-to-screaming vocal. She has a well-supported range and doesn’t mimic an Evanescence sound. Listeners should appreciate this unique take on the genre and this original entry into the field.

Though the band claims many exotic textures layered within their sound, it is worth noting that the primary layer is metal guitar. Keyboard echoes are the next most recognizable supporting sound, but few tunes deviate as readily from a more traditional metal sound as the band purports. To their credit, the band has a few riffs and turns of musical phrase that remind a listener of Abney Park—a more recognized sound in the steampunk/goth genre. Building on the successful sound of this band isn’t mimicry as much as a gesture that places Absinthe Junk solidly in this genre.

The most commercial song on the album is “Dragonflies in Hurricanes” and it’s also the most off-genre. Displaying a haunting country sound, the Nashville-based band weaves a tale of the end of life, a love, a relationship—or all of it—with a more complete sound than the other songs. Blair’s lead vocals are eerily reminiscent of Natalie Merchant and the band’s support rounds out the song in a very recognizable way. Notably, the song feels very different than the rest of the album—which is quite good in its own right—but it is quite powerful.

Written by: Dr. Julie E. Ferris, July 31st 2010

Success or Suicide

admin — Sat, 17 Jul 2010 23:58:00 +0000

By Vertigo Venus

In the beginning, there were two: brothers Jeff and Chris Cannon. These Michiganders, transplanted to the Land of Enchantment otherwise known as New Mexico, started a band–a boisterous beast named Vertigo Venus. With their first release in 2004, they commanded (like the bossiest of stage mothers) that we listeners Sing Pretty! Then in 2007 with their second album, new band members came on board and things got a little ominous, as we were told to Run for Your Lives.

Now in 2010, Vertigo Venus' latest five-member incarnation comes at us, teeth bared, as their new album fiercely proclaims Success Or Suicide (also known by the abbreviation S.O.S.). In addition to the Brothers Cannon, the band roster also includes bassist Ken Cornell (also the mastermind behind experimental noise outfit Alchemical Burn); drummer and noted solo electronic artist Brian Botkiller; and lead synth/keyboard player Jessica Crockett.

It's appropriate to refer to this most recent Vertigo Venus album–which features four re-releases, two new original tracks and one cover–by either its full title or the abbreviation; both get the point across. The full title conveys the group's absolute determination to give this rock band thing everything they've got, while S.O.S., better known as the Morse code distress signal, shows a band anxious to be seen, heard, and ultimately rescued by discerning listeners from the miasma of today's musical landscape.

Vertigo Venus is certainly gifted at getting attention, most notably during a 2009 mini-tour of California, and as opening acts performing with such groups as Mindless Self Indulgence and The Birthday Massacre. The accolades have started coming in, too. S.O.S. opening track “Spy Vs. Spy” won a production award at the 2010 New Mexico Music Awards.

As a band, Vertigo Venus defines itself both by who they are (defiant metal-infused synthpunk monsters) and who they hate (phonies, corporate America, and brooding self-indulgent whiners of the goth/emo persuasion). Lead singer/synth player Jeff Cannon cheerfully spits antagonistic vitriol on every song. Highlights include “Monday Mourning” (with the ranting chorus “Shut up and die/ Everybody hates you”) and “Boob Tube” (which smacks apathetic distractable hipsters in the face and reminds us that “you can't say shit without big tits”).

Their most noteworthy song, however, would have to be “Punk Rock Cheerleader,” originally released on Sing Pretty! Described in a press release as a “sing-along-like-you-mean-it” anthem, this scathing indictment of phony mall-bought rebellion is the song for which they are best known. Auto-Tune and vocoder abound in the emo-mocking bridge before transitioning into a rallying cry complete with claps and stomps. There is a certain glorious irony in shining an accusatory spotlight on poseurs with rousing fist-pumping anthems.

Not everybody's going to like Vertigo Venus. They're loud. They're angry. They're bratty. That's okay, though. Vertigo Venus doesn't need–or want–mass approval. Which, in my mind, is exactly what makes them so likable and so deserving of fame.

Written by: M. Brianna Stallings, July 17th 2010

The New Divine

admin — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 09:00:00 +0000

By Lust Murder bOX

Let's just get this one thing out of the way right now, shall we? It's safe to say that if you're not of the goth/industrial/EBM/metal persuasion, then The New Divine, from Austin, TX foursome Lust Murder bOX (LMb), will not be your bag. These twelve tunes are for the seasoned spooky aficionado. But if you're adventurous enough, give it a go. It'll be worth it.

The group, featuring band members Nox, Vaughn, Erik, and Travis, are a mainstay of Austin's Sixth Street music scene. With lyrics like “A perfect model of distress/Paranoia with a bit of bliss” and “Your kiss detonates on my lips/A violent spark between us,” “Emotion To Kill” exemplifies not only the LMb oeuvre but also serves as a fine example of the genre. There's even a loving revved-up cover version of “The Baby Screams,” a Cure song from the 1985 album The Head on the Door.

As with the finest of their ilk, Lust Murder bOX displays a wicked sense of humor. “Crash Black” is a snarky indictment of generic music fans. It's a barrage of zingers fired against those shallow listeners who hop from one bandwagon to another in search of the hot new thing. Personal favorites include “This is the chorus/Sing along like you love us” and “With our white belts/And all our pain/We'll make millions/With more of the same.” It's so bitchy-good, it conjures up Mindless Self-Indulgence.

There is an obvious eschatological fixation here, as well. More than one song speaks—in sometimes graphic detail—to what might happen at the end of the world; “Throttle” and “Artifact” are the finest examples. “Genesis,” growling with all the vengeance of a scorned Old Testament God, references the album title. Yet while cryptic pseudo-metaphysical imagery hints at a Gnostic sensibility, we soon that's not really part of the musical equation.

Overall, this is a band whose music squirms under the atmospheric weight of a neurotic eroticism. Reminiscent of groups like Curve and Garbage, but more grinding, these songs are practically swollen with angry sex, power dynamics, and violent ideations; “Coercion” sums it up best. This blatant BDSM ballad (“He uses my body to feel his flesh/The closer he gets the more I trust”) foists itself upon the listener with a twisted ferocity.

It's not easy listening and it's most definitely not for vanilla ears, but then again, nothing from Lust Murder bOX is.

Written by: M. Brianna Stallings, February 2nd 2010

Come with Me if You Want to Live

admin — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 22:44:00 +0000

By Goblin Cock

Robcore Records

After listening to Goblin Cock’s new record, Come with Me if You Want to Live, I’ve decided to start my own sludge metal band. However, I’m having a few problems thinking of a name with a good female twist. Somehow the band name “Ogre Vag” just doesn’t have the right ring.

At any rate, Goblin Cock’s mix of indie and metal would suffice for anyone looking for an appropriate soundtrack for a movie involving Norse mythology and lots of beast slaying. You know those bands like The Locust that have, like, a billion guitar effects? “Who needs such pompous drivel” scoffs Lord Phallus and Bane Ass-Pounder (guitar/vocals and lead guitar, respectively). “We need nothing in our lives, nothing…but sweet fuzz. And names that make you think of penises!”

They really are a commercial for fuzz pedals. It’s like that advertisement for Dior perfume that Charlize Theron was in: “gold is cold…diamonds are dead.” Strip off your clothes! You don’t need them! Wear J’adore! Maybe that’s why Goblin Cock always wears cloaks. “Flangers are fallacious…reverb is reprobate! You don’t need anything but cloaks and fuzz!”

I do have some suggestions for listening for the uninitiated: make sure to bang your head and raise your right hand in the form of a chalice (palm raised with fingers curled upward) to conjure the appropriate hobgoblin while listening. I would also suggest a magical rune decoder device if you would like to decipher the liner notes. And no, the Snuggie does not look like a pagan Stonehenge-worshipper’s shroud. It is for reclining, not rocking out. Also, for any of you ladies who plan on going to one of their shows, be prepared for seas of boys aged 14-17, and, of course, that one guy who is hairier than a chinchilla and has no shirt on.

Wait—I think I have it—maybe “Witch’s Tit”? Perhaps the poetically pleasing “Haint Hoo Haa” for a bit of alliteration? No, hold the phone—I’ve got it! “Breast of the Beast”!

Written by: Emily S. Dunster, April 1st 2009

Only Rock and Roll Can Save Us

admin — Fri, 22 Jun 2007 02:02:00 +0000

By Tyler Read

Immortal Records

Tyler Read’s new album Only Rock & Roll Can Save Us is a refreshing meld of new sounds with classic rock influences. The lyrics are raw and alluring, while the melodies remain catchy. But don’t worry; there is nothing “bubble gum” about this album. The music borders on heavy metal, but the influences of rock and roll legends, such as Queen, keep the sound and lyrics from being too hard. I have to admit that I thoroughly enjoyed listening to Only Rock & Roll Can Save Us. The title track offers a modern take on the basic rock anthem. The songs are just edgy enough to be cool without being too much for the average listener.

There are a couple of songs that I do have an issue with, such as “Baby’s Got A Temper” and “Private School Girls.” The lyrics in these two songs are very demeaning and offer a stereotypical rocker’s view of women. It is a shame that Tyler Read’s talents have been wasted on sexist clichés when the band has so much to offer. I can only hope that their future endeavors will focus their talents on worthwhile lyrics as opposed to the traditional bad-boy fare that degrades women.

Written by: Becky Barry, June 21st 2007

Cornucopia EP/DVD

admin — Sat, 16 Jun 2007 19:01:00 +0000

By The Color Guard

Suziblade Music

I must admit, on the first couple of listens to the Cornucopia EP, the music brought me back to high school when I had bands like Veruca Salt and Throwing Muses on heavy rotation in my Sony Discman. The question is: was it solely the nostalgia for my high school listening habits that lead me to appreciate this largely estrogen-laced pop metal? Kind of.

The first song on the EP, “Capture,” is a largely disjointed mess of a melody that switches time signatures in a way that simply makes the song unlistenable. To top it off, Lalena’s somewhat nasal and weak voice was severely off key on an already off-key and disjointed melody. Additionally, the song is accompanied by lyrics that are ripped straight out of a bad teenage poet’s notebook: “All seems clear if I could capture this/with the sun exactly where it is.”

Okay, so it gets better.

“I Had a Dirty Dream About You” could be the band’s first single if they emerge from the New York art-metal scene ghetto. Forgoing the complicated yet poorly executed “math rock” time signatures for straight up Pandora’s-esque garage rock, this song combines a simple chord progression, dynamic drum rhythms and mischievously sexy lyrics to create a… well… highly danceable rock song. And yes, I did find myself dancing.

The rest of the album, continuing to remain in the vein of dark prog-pop metal, is neither as unfortunate as “Capture” nor as delightful as “I Had a Dream About You.” I was impressed at their ability to make dark yet danceable metal songs without veering into Lacuna Coil territory. There are some weak spots on the album, but they manage to cover them up quite well with an excellent ear for harmony.

The Color Guard is not likely to break any major boundaries in music, either generally or in the prog-metal genre. However, the DVD accompanying Cornucopia--a live performance at CBGB’s gallery--showcases an exceptional live band that combines a love of theatrical performance with solid musical ability. Perhaps through their live performances, and not their records, is where they will transcend musical expectations.

Written by: Theresa Anasti, June 16th 2007

Living with the Living

admin — Sat, 21 Apr 2007 18:00:00 +0000

By Ted Leo and the Pharmacists

Touch and Go

In a day where so many previously non-political artists are taking a stance to assure themselves a Grammy nod, Ted Leo’s refreshingly authentic social commentary shines through in his music just as much as it has for the past decade. The strict vegan, along with his band The Pharmacists, released his fifth full length studio album, [Living with the Living](http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000MQ55DO?ie=UTF8&tag=feminrevie-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B000MQ55DO).

Produced by Fugazi drummer Brendan Canty, Living with the Living proves to be a Molotov cocktail of explosive blues-tinged punk mixed with light-hearted summer sounds and even reggae. The latest effort by the D.C.-based trio envelopes an instrumentally experimental complexity with a lyrical simplicity that combine for a well-rounded compilation of songs. The album’s most memorable tracks are heavily stacked mid-album and surprisingly embody more of Leo’s social views than his political agenda.

The endearing “A Bottle of Buckie” is a stand-out track that shows sometimes you need nothing more than a good friend and a bottle of cheap Buckfast wine. Leo comforts the listener with this laid back track only to black their eye with the next. The garage-metal antics of “Bomb. Repeat. Bomb.” combine with both spoken word and chanting group vocals to create a track that is so politically fierce that you might be inclined to turn off Living with the Living and initiate change.

Written by: Claire Ashton, April 21st 2007

Songs From Under the Sink

admin — Sat, 14 Apr 2007 13:59:00 +0000

By Mischief Brew

Fistolo Records

Mischief Brew describes the 14-track album Songs From Under the Sink as a “collection of anthems, ballads, marches, love songs, hate songs, and lullabies” written over five years, from 1997 to 2002. It is a “lost LP,” resurrected or “finally brought up from the cellar-or, from under the sink.” These descriptors help identify this album as being a non-identifiable hodge-podge of sorts, with a variety of distinct sounds. Some are “hot and spicy, some are just as fresh as the day they were written, and others may have passed their expiration date a bit. But that’s what happens when you clean out your cupboards.”

That sounds just about right. From the opening track “Thanks, Bastards,” with its raspy vocals and jabs at the political establishment, to the forceful lines “Fuck the city, burn it down” on “Save A City” to the jaunty sounds on “Gratitude and Thanks” and “All Our Comrades” and a folksy version of “Midnight Special” complete with cowbell – this album is the whole spice rack and then some. The lyrics on this album are politically charged throughout, but are heartfelt and not didactic. Most if not all of the songs are about some kind of rebellion, be it against The State or a state of things.

The more I listened to the album, the more impressed I became with the influence of a multitude of musical styles. What you’ll notice is how easy the songs are to listen to, learn the words, and sing along with. If you already know you have a predilection for olde-tyme-folk-punk-Celtic-gypsy-jazz, and even if you don’t, I am willing to bet you will find yourself swaying along to the lullabies and kicking your feet up in celebration for the marches.

Written by: Lillian B., April 14th 2007

Bored of the Dance

admin — Thu, 12 Apr 2007 02:08:00 +0000

By Meisce

Fistolo Records

Punk rock infused with Irish folk slash gypsy rock slash drunken anthem is what you'll get when you listen to Meisce's Bored of the Dance. Lead singer Pete Jay has a very distinct vocal talent and offers a sharp contrast to the Irish folk rock of past. Jay's voice is reminiscent of that of the lead singer of a Russian heavy metal and industrial rock band Rammestein. Violins and mandolins are played fervently like electric guitars, and I can't say I've ever heard an accordion sound so hardcore. Hard and heavy is not what Meisce is all about though.

They show a softer side with "The Death of Michael Flatley," which is on Side A of their beautifully packaged 45. Starting off nice and easy with the accordion playing a delicate tune and Pete Jay crooning away, you could easily cuddle with your lover or take another sentimental swig of beer with one of your friends. But don't get too maudlin.

Meisce amps it up again for you hard rock fans with "Drunk & Alone" on the B-side. If you enjoy drinking and getting drunk - and songs about drinking and getting drunk - then you'll enjoy Meisce's Bored of the Dance. Let us not forget to mention the way they rock their instruments! I've seen accordions in a new light. Did I mention that Meisce was Gaelic for drunkenness or intoxication?

Written by: Adrione N. Council, April 11th 2007

Smash the Windows

admin — Sat, 07 Apr 2007 14:14:00 +0000

By Mischief Brew

Fistolo

I have truly never heard anything like Mischief Brew. Much of their music pairs such disparate elements as a heavy-metal bassline and a twangy mandolin, and a study of the lyrics reveals a similar discord: an aggressive expression of anti-establishment anger, under which lies a genuine desire to celebrate freedom and individuality. Their music feels at once like a barroom brawl and an intelligent, textured cultural critique.

While Smash the Windows incorporates solid musicianship and strong production, the vocals miss their mark. Erik Petersen growls his way through many of these songs as though he is determined to sound like a true punk-rocker, but he instead achieves a forced and grating melodrama. I picture him onstage in full pirate getup—a skull-tight bandana and crossbones punctuating a faded-black t-shirt. I appreciate the band’s tendency to combine unlikely elements (e.g., heavy metal rasping with a relaxed jazz riff), but I can’t help but think the vocals limit the potential of these songs to appeal to a wide audience.

Nevertheless, these songs are catchy and filled with a youthful sense of rebellion that dares listeners to not sing along. Raucous music and anarchistic lyrics create a powerful combination in the songs that work here, such as “Nomad’s Revolt” in which Petersen instructs us to “kill off Columbus and turn the world around.” “Roll Me Through the Gates of Hell” uses a fun, ska-influenced progression to declare “Satan’s army’s rising up soon/ well if it is, I’m the secretary of No-State.” Though some lyrics seem to stem from an immature or naïve perspective, Smash the Windows is a compelling call to action overall, and its integration of jazz, metal, punk and americana traditions treads some much-needed new musical ground.

Written by: Sarah Hudgens, April 7th 2007

Monotonix, Unfortunately, Lives Up to its Name

admin — Sun, 01 Apr 2007 14:12:00 +0000

Uncle Paulie's

Brooklyn, New York

Monotonix is a trio from Tel Aviv with the kind of cult power that attracts an audience that wants to be wowed more than transformed. Their music mimics the basics of power-vocaled American heavy metal – Black Sabbath Lite. It is not that these musicians are not skilled, nor is it that singer Ami Shalev does not have a strong enough voice (though it most certainly falls short of Gene Simmons or even good ole Ozzy) so much as that the stylized music can neither be taken seriously nor as a joke. These guys have obviously listened to the classics, but imitation alone falls short.

A prime example would be the song "On the Road" from Monotonix's self-titled EP, which starts with an anthemically rapid, discordant guitar riff that lapses into a Neolithically-simple macho-metal-crunching rhythm for the rest of the song. Ran Shimoni's drumming consists of steady double cymbal crashes punctuated by Shalev wailing: "It was the day that you spit me like the garbage out of your life." This is hardly the lyrical, heady music Kerouac heard in his head.

Monotonix’s chosen venue in Brooklyn, NY, Uncle Paulie's, is a truckstop shack at the edge of Greenpoint’s earth that requires a hike of several miles against mud and strewn sheetrock with ominous semitrucks and smelly garbage trucks bearing down on you most of the time. This Indie Rock Pilgrim’s Progress would make even the hardcore urban nomad think there must be something phenomenal at the end of the path. And usually, at Uncle Paulie’s, there is. But the highlight of Monotonix is not its music, but a stage performance that bears the features of the big tent revival, a combination of circus magic and holy water that entertains by way of being outrageous and derivative, which serves a double purpose of distracting from lack of substance and innovation. The predictably steady beat was acceptable enough for the mod Israeli Ladytron-alikes and froed hippie hipster boys in the front row to bash their heads around to.

Reeling back and forth and slamdancing into the giggling audience with his eyes peeled open comically, Freddy Mercury-esque Shalev almost convinces you that this is all a big spectacle for performance art – that he made up the band after being dared by his buddies to convince the world it was a real endeavor. He lies on the floor massaging the ground and writhing around like a big cat in heat, then leaps up and grabs a few pieces of plaster, setting them on top of cymbals and on the ground and lighting them on fire (a trademark move apparently, memorialized in immortal glory in their MySpace photos and videos). When smoke starts to rise, I look over at Uncle Paulie, the friendly guy who owns the place, and wonder if he's panicked. But he has the same expression on his face as I do – faintly bemused, as if he too has seen it all, and is not impressed. He keeps flipping burgers, popping beer and making change.

By no means am I making a treatise that there is no place for outrageous expression and performance in this kind of music -- I did enjoy the moments at the end of the show when they brought elements of their drum kit into the crowd and had crowd members thrash the highhat and snare. But on tape, I really don't feel there's any important reason to listen to this band when so many other bands are more sonically entertaining or artistically intricate. This is not the music Rob Harvilla would dedicate to his wife on a mixtape to remember as one of their favorite songs ever from that rowdy road trip across America. This is the music that you will barely remember in the nebulous haze of your hangover.

With the right marketing and costume changes, Monotonix could someday do stadium arena rock for the suburban, but it's the indie rock audience this band is angling for, playing with Silver Jews, Kimya Dawson, The Thermals, Oneida and Ted Leo on tour -- strange matches for a band that lists Thin Lizzy, Deep Purple and ABBA as its influences. With the right connections (which they already seem to have in the form of their charismatic rep Kevin Guthrie, who also represents Silver Jews), Monotonix could even become a modest critical success. Preaching to the choir on playful, faux-sinful fun, they fulfill the expectations of their name – monotonous in tone, emotion and performance antics. Imitation has yielded a beginning for Monotonix, but the best thing for this band to do would be to get more serious about making challenging music, play up their mass appeal marketing, or resign themselves to attaining Gwar-like status once they get better stunts.

Written by: Onya Lamoureux, April 1st 2007

Bedtime Prayers

admin — Sat, 17 Feb 2007 02:23:00 +0000

By Blinded Colony

Pivotal Rockordings

I am not a heavy metal aficionado, although I did enjoy the more pop-oriented groups like Guns N’ Roses, Def Leppard and Metallica in my high school and college years. A friend in a black metal band informs me that the vocal style that so turned me off this disc is typical of death metal, but that doesn’t make it any more palatable to the masses. Just because your sound is heavy doesn’t mean the vocalist shouldn’t sing and, hopefully, sing well. Listening to Johan Schuster shriek his way thru this disk is like listening to someone scrape his fingernails down a chalkboard while throwing a temper tantrum: it’s ear-piercing, guttural, and indecipherable.

Perhaps I am focusing too much on just one aspect of the music, but the vocals so dominate the album that one can hardly distinguish, much less focus on, the instrumentation behind them. In addition, this Swedish group faces another obstacle to mass appeal: a lack of originality. Every song starts out the same, with a thrashing, frantic guitar and heavy drums, and it is difficult to distinguish one track from the next. Schuster keeps his screaming in check for much of the last track, “Heart,” which I was able to appreciate. Recommended only for death metal fans.

Written by: Karen Duda, February 16th 2007