...It's time to kill.
LISTEN TO Remembering Never.
Floridian hardcore kings making everyone mad about shit they shouldn't be get set to deliver another venomous bite of songs against the scene in the shape of 'God Save Us' due February 2006. If they can combine the song skills and huge hooks of their 'She Looked So Good in Red' debut with the sheer power and soul from second effort 'Women and Children First' there will be no stopping them.
You remember when people sung the messages from their heads and hearts instead of just posting them as bulletins on MySpace right? Never! Wrong.
11.23.2005
11.18.2005
ATTAKU+ Sylosis+ Ionica. Bullingdon, Oxford. 16.11.05
There must be a fear in the minds of all British metal bands that they'll never escape the toilet touring circuit. That their destiny is to become a 'remember them?', or even worse a 'who?' playing the same venues year after year after year before splitting up because nobody cares.
Depressing huh?
But it might explain the sweaty desire, desperate glint and practised fervour with which most of the bands here tonight play.After Ionica bore everybody shitless with their fast if vapid metal, Reading metalcore kids Sylosis can't help but seem tight, proficient and fun. Having finally cemented a line-up the band fire out dark breakdowns and death growls and guitarist Josh is next-generation-inspiration in the making.
Headliners Attaku though are the most professional outfit on show, and it's by a mile. Opening ferocious and loud theirs is bullet-fast technical metal, all attitude and jazzy breaks; it's like listening to a decent British version of The Dillinger Escape Plan.
This shouldn't be a gig in a toilet. There are no reasons left why these bands aren't huge. It's down to you to make that problem go away.
Depressing huh?
But it might explain the sweaty desire, desperate glint and practised fervour with which most of the bands here tonight play.After Ionica bore everybody shitless with their fast if vapid metal, Reading metalcore kids Sylosis can't help but seem tight, proficient and fun. Having finally cemented a line-up the band fire out dark breakdowns and death growls and guitarist Josh is next-generation-inspiration in the making.
Headliners Attaku though are the most professional outfit on show, and it's by a mile. Opening ferocious and loud theirs is bullet-fast technical metal, all attitude and jazzy breaks; it's like listening to a decent British version of The Dillinger Escape Plan.
This shouldn't be a gig in a toilet. There are no reasons left why these bands aren't huge. It's down to you to make that problem go away.
11.16.2005
CAVE IN- Perfect Pitch Black
Living well is the best revenge. And if that really is true RCA records are pissed. After the major label dropped Cave In back in 2003 the boys in black bowed their heads and contemplated giving up but eventually thought better of it and have regrouped to compile their best album yet. Wise choice.
Despite that one major label album there has never been anything predictable about the way Cave In write songs. Even at their most delicate and dramatic they can be ridiculously heavy, and at their most aggressive can play one-note desert rock and be genuine and convinving. On 'Perfect Pitch Black'; essentially material collected from the last three years of wilderness existence, songs stop on a dime and speed off in entirely unexpected directions. Faultless pop spirals into indie serenity and heads-down metal, all steered by Stephen Brodsky's amazingly warm and wide voice, only interrupted by the welcome return of bassist Caleb Scofield's demon-voiced tourette's. Brodsky's lonesome tone is marvellous throughout, scaling walls of hardcore guitars and droning punk riffs without ever sounding desperate or spluttering, seperating these songs from the mush of any contemporary 'core and making them absolutely essential.
Cave In have always made music that sounds fucking great played loud and 'Perfect Pitch Black' is no exception. From the numbing rumble of 'Off to Ruin' to the Mastodon sound of 'Trepanning' to the beautiful simplicity of 'Down the Drain' these are gigantic riff-fuelled tunes allowing the band to run rings around most of todays (and gladly now tomorrows) young heavy pretenders.
Get 'Perfect...' now and shake the walls down.
Despite that one major label album there has never been anything predictable about the way Cave In write songs. Even at their most delicate and dramatic they can be ridiculously heavy, and at their most aggressive can play one-note desert rock and be genuine and convinving. On 'Perfect Pitch Black'; essentially material collected from the last three years of wilderness existence, songs stop on a dime and speed off in entirely unexpected directions. Faultless pop spirals into indie serenity and heads-down metal, all steered by Stephen Brodsky's amazingly warm and wide voice, only interrupted by the welcome return of bassist Caleb Scofield's demon-voiced tourette's. Brodsky's lonesome tone is marvellous throughout, scaling walls of hardcore guitars and droning punk riffs without ever sounding desperate or spluttering, seperating these songs from the mush of any contemporary 'core and making them absolutely essential.
Cave In have always made music that sounds fucking great played loud and 'Perfect Pitch Black' is no exception. From the numbing rumble of 'Off to Ruin' to the Mastodon sound of 'Trepanning' to the beautiful simplicity of 'Down the Drain' these are gigantic riff-fuelled tunes allowing the band to run rings around most of todays (and gladly now tomorrows) young heavy pretenders.
Get 'Perfect...' now and shake the walls down.
11.09.2005
THRICE- Vheissu
The first track on 'Vheissu', Thrice's fourth album proper, sets to demolish the rumour mill that's been in fifth gear in the run up to this release. The stories read that Thrice had discarded every element of the music that made their name, fled any scene tags that were still stuck, even abanoned rock and roll altogether. But 'Image of the Invisible' is a blistering and dynamic call and response rock song- the stuff lesser bands can't even dream of. And, if any were needed, instant comfort for fans of 'The Illusion of Safety''s quick-fingered mild thrash attack and 'The Artist in the Ambulance''s powerful heaviness that some of the Thrice of old remains. But it's all a front.
There are few other examples of the same kind of immediacy or aggression. 'The Earth Will Shake' is heavy but slow, 'For Miles' goes through four minutes of swaying rock before Dustin Kensrue gets to unleash his growl and 'Hold Fast Hope' feigns at hardcore punk before revealing a wilting, pleading melody.What there are, are songs that build from delicate but engrossing piano melodies, adding layers of keys, percussion, synths and strings until they become massive walls of sound. These can be heavy as on 'Music Box' or 'Like Moths to Flame' but always hide fragile indie strum behind them. And there are clicking, calm Radiohead-infused passages that make sure tracks like 'Stand and Feel Your Worth' and 'Atlantic' make their mark.The end result means the album has a massive ebb and flow, even within songs the mood rises to oppressive confrontation and falls to creepy effects and barely audible lyrical gems.
One of the bands goals for 'Vheissu' was to make their already kinetic and emotional music more cinematic, and that effort has definitely made this an 'album' in the old-fashioned sense of the word. This is Thrice's least catchy, or even, easy, release but this is isn't some token singles or studio stodge. This is a story from beginning to end where tracks don't stop they segue into each other.
But this isn't a Hollywood blockbuster; it's an obscure but interesting foreign film. It looks great, all moody and stormy but moves slowly, with purpose. It's in a language you can't quite understand perhaps, but one that reaches your ears smooth and clean, one that you'd love to learn and if you just try, it will be easy.
A personal triumph for a band that never wanted to be where they were put if nothing else
There are few other examples of the same kind of immediacy or aggression. 'The Earth Will Shake' is heavy but slow, 'For Miles' goes through four minutes of swaying rock before Dustin Kensrue gets to unleash his growl and 'Hold Fast Hope' feigns at hardcore punk before revealing a wilting, pleading melody.What there are, are songs that build from delicate but engrossing piano melodies, adding layers of keys, percussion, synths and strings until they become massive walls of sound. These can be heavy as on 'Music Box' or 'Like Moths to Flame' but always hide fragile indie strum behind them. And there are clicking, calm Radiohead-infused passages that make sure tracks like 'Stand and Feel Your Worth' and 'Atlantic' make their mark.The end result means the album has a massive ebb and flow, even within songs the mood rises to oppressive confrontation and falls to creepy effects and barely audible lyrical gems.
One of the bands goals for 'Vheissu' was to make their already kinetic and emotional music more cinematic, and that effort has definitely made this an 'album' in the old-fashioned sense of the word. This is Thrice's least catchy, or even, easy, release but this is isn't some token singles or studio stodge. This is a story from beginning to end where tracks don't stop they segue into each other.
But this isn't a Hollywood blockbuster; it's an obscure but interesting foreign film. It looks great, all moody and stormy but moves slowly, with purpose. It's in a language you can't quite understand perhaps, but one that reaches your ears smooth and clean, one that you'd love to learn and if you just try, it will be easy.
A personal triumph for a band that never wanted to be where they were put if nothing else
10.31.2005
BRING ME THE HORIZON+ Architects+ Clone the Fragile+ Dead Summer Rising. Furnace, Swindon. 29.10.05
What's this then? Metalcore, hardcore, haircore? The 3rd wave, the 4th?
The reason people get annoyed with genres that come from out of nowhere to outstay their welcome is that the amount of copycats triple, overall quality drops like a stone, it gets harder to tell genuine heart from eyes filled with dollar signs and saturation point comes all too quickly. Like they say, there's only so much shit you can take.
But let's reserve that kind of judgement for at least an hour.
Dead Summer Rising are really young and play that way. They are brilliantly talented but the whiff of fandom is overwhelming. There's Black Dahlia Murder, As i Lay Dying and Norma Jean in their lively hardcore but not one original note. Yet.
Clone the Fragile are better within a mic check and when they get down to it are writing the kind of familiar but exciting riffs capable of grabbing the attention of rooms twice this size. Theirs is still predictable stuff but at least gives the impression it will carry on after the spotlight drops.
And things only get better. Architects are awesome. They bring the Johnny Truant smash and grab approach from their shared Brighton hometown. Their dance moves and discordant mania may be fashion faux pa on such a black clad bill as this but they play genuine shredding metal, fierce and professional.
Already granted underground celebrity and much taunted for major stardom Bring me the Horizon may have won the audience over before playing a note but the adoration isn't entirely unfounded. The band are all decent players, with a live presense already pegged, and out of their stick thin frontman comes the voice of the devil. When the crowd know the words they sing along, when they don't they kick the shit out of each other. Not exactly good clean fun but at least they mean it.
It's debatable how many people are here for the music and how many got in free to wave at their friends but everyone caught proof that the UK underground is alive and kicking, sometimes in the wrong direction and, as always, some way behind the Americans, but kicking fast and hard.
Reassuring stuff
The reason people get annoyed with genres that come from out of nowhere to outstay their welcome is that the amount of copycats triple, overall quality drops like a stone, it gets harder to tell genuine heart from eyes filled with dollar signs and saturation point comes all too quickly. Like they say, there's only so much shit you can take.
But let's reserve that kind of judgement for at least an hour.
Dead Summer Rising are really young and play that way. They are brilliantly talented but the whiff of fandom is overwhelming. There's Black Dahlia Murder, As i Lay Dying and Norma Jean in their lively hardcore but not one original note. Yet.
Clone the Fragile are better within a mic check and when they get down to it are writing the kind of familiar but exciting riffs capable of grabbing the attention of rooms twice this size. Theirs is still predictable stuff but at least gives the impression it will carry on after the spotlight drops.
And things only get better. Architects are awesome. They bring the Johnny Truant smash and grab approach from their shared Brighton hometown. Their dance moves and discordant mania may be fashion faux pa on such a black clad bill as this but they play genuine shredding metal, fierce and professional.
Already granted underground celebrity and much taunted for major stardom Bring me the Horizon may have won the audience over before playing a note but the adoration isn't entirely unfounded. The band are all decent players, with a live presense already pegged, and out of their stick thin frontman comes the voice of the devil. When the crowd know the words they sing along, when they don't they kick the shit out of each other. Not exactly good clean fun but at least they mean it.
It's debatable how many people are here for the music and how many got in free to wave at their friends but everyone caught proof that the UK underground is alive and kicking, sometimes in the wrong direction and, as always, some way behind the Americans, but kicking fast and hard.
Reassuring stuff
10.30.2005
HAWTHORNE HEIGHTS+ Silverstein. Zodiac, Oxford. 21.10.05
Oxford smells like crap. Upstairs the Zodiac is thick with the funk of pubescent teens dancing badly to their new favourite bands.
As it is Silverstein could be one of too many bands dishing out similar screamy emo and the crowd would go just as wild. Songs like 'Giving Up' and 'Discovering the Waterfront' are neat adrenaline spikes but pimpled by bum notes and feedback, luckily the kids are screaming loud enough for no one to notice.
It is surely a huge joy for Hawthorne Heights to play some new songs tonight; they've been playing tracks from their 'The Silence...' debut for three years, and a real treat for the crowd to hear them. But it doesn't really seem to matter. The new tracks which are more of the same heavy melodic rock but darker and more frantic, recieve the same reaction as fan favourites like 'Niki FM' and 'Speeding up the Octaves', but the band look a little bored at playing any of them.
The screaming is ceaseless while HH go through the motions and this is the best gig these fans have ever seen- until next week.
An average night celebrated like the second coming.
As it is Silverstein could be one of too many bands dishing out similar screamy emo and the crowd would go just as wild. Songs like 'Giving Up' and 'Discovering the Waterfront' are neat adrenaline spikes but pimpled by bum notes and feedback, luckily the kids are screaming loud enough for no one to notice.
It is surely a huge joy for Hawthorne Heights to play some new songs tonight; they've been playing tracks from their 'The Silence...' debut for three years, and a real treat for the crowd to hear them. But it doesn't really seem to matter. The new tracks which are more of the same heavy melodic rock but darker and more frantic, recieve the same reaction as fan favourites like 'Niki FM' and 'Speeding up the Octaves', but the band look a little bored at playing any of them.
The screaming is ceaseless while HH go through the motions and this is the best gig these fans have ever seen- until next week.
An average night celebrated like the second coming.
10.20.2005
Slowly we peel away the layers...
...and light slips through the cracks.
LISTEN TO The Bled
This is desert hardcore- dusty throated vocals over pounding drums and screeching guitars that scream love songs for sandstorms. And like they say 'if it ain't broke...', so there were no concessions to fashion for album number two 'Found in the Flood', released earlier this year.
Go see them make a giant racket and dance like idiots but not care when they tour the UK with The Fall of Troy and Fear Before the March of Flames next month.
LISTEN TO The Bled
This is desert hardcore- dusty throated vocals over pounding drums and screeching guitars that scream love songs for sandstorms. And like they say 'if it ain't broke...', so there were no concessions to fashion for album number two 'Found in the Flood', released earlier this year.
Go see them make a giant racket and dance like idiots but not care when they tour the UK with The Fall of Troy and Fear Before the March of Flames next month.
10.13.2005
DOPAMINE +Reubens Accomplice +Firstborn. Bullingdon, Oxford. 12.10.05
DOPAMINE + Reubens Accomplice + Firstborn. Bullingdon, Oxford. 12.10.05
This is one of those tours that sneaks up on you, a trio of interesting names messing around with getting a buzz about them, playing good songs in British basements-
Firstborn are first up and ripping off Incubus, their lively rock songs are nothing new but they play them with good old British charm and a rare intelligence. And it always makes a change to hear a singer with a sense of humour and even better, one who can sing.
Reubens Accomplice's light melancholy is at odds with the flashes of fun and brilliance elsewhere. It may be their folksy, road-weary style or maybe the only Americans on the bill tonight were expecting something more than a dark, half-full Oxford backroom to greet them.
Dopamine are good, their tunes as anthemic and endearing as on record. Opening with their debut albums one-two punch of 'Destroy Something Beautiful' and 'Laruso' is enough to get people looking up from their pints and when they lock together with the squeal and speed of 'Lifeline Excercise' this is fun, foot-tapping stuff that would sound utterly engulfing on a huge stage.
-there's obviously not a lot of money behind Dopamine and their tour, and that's probably the way it's going to stay, but that doesn't stop them playing without pretence or attitude and shaking awake tiny venues like the Bullingdon nightly.
This is one of those tours that sneaks up on you, a trio of interesting names messing around with getting a buzz about them, playing good songs in British basements-
Firstborn are first up and ripping off Incubus, their lively rock songs are nothing new but they play them with good old British charm and a rare intelligence. And it always makes a change to hear a singer with a sense of humour and even better, one who can sing.
Reubens Accomplice's light melancholy is at odds with the flashes of fun and brilliance elsewhere. It may be their folksy, road-weary style or maybe the only Americans on the bill tonight were expecting something more than a dark, half-full Oxford backroom to greet them.
Dopamine are good, their tunes as anthemic and endearing as on record. Opening with their debut albums one-two punch of 'Destroy Something Beautiful' and 'Laruso' is enough to get people looking up from their pints and when they lock together with the squeal and speed of 'Lifeline Excercise' this is fun, foot-tapping stuff that would sound utterly engulfing on a huge stage.
-there's obviously not a lot of money behind Dopamine and their tour, and that's probably the way it's going to stay, but that doesn't stop them playing without pretence or attitude and shaking awake tiny venues like the Bullingdon nightly.
10.11.2005
HELL ON EARTH '05. Mean Fiddler, London. 08.10.05
This is more like it.
Despite plenty of examples to the contrary over in the States, the UK has had no experience of tour packages like Hell On Earth. Tours featuring the more interesting or experienced of bands playing metal and hardcore rather than a hasty line up of usual suspects and flavours of the month we love so much (Cough...Give it a Name, Taste of Chaos...Cough).
And Neaera prove a perfect antidote to all the floppy fringes and tight pants fighting for space at the bar. Behind the speedy guitar, sneering vocal growl and familiar but crushing breakdown the band are hilariously but unashamedly foot-on-the-monitor all out metal. They face the impossible, engaging a London crowd and 5 in the evening but do so with entertaining music and huge smiles.
Agents of Man have learnt their tricks at the Pantera and Biohazard school of noise, combining groove and power with a gritty melody, but despite their older, heavier material bringing the first real pit action of the day they haven't quite graduated.
Evergreen Terrace have lighter and punkier edges that work really well. Theirs is the sound most applicable to the fashionista element present but they play with such obvious desire and passion; frontman Andrew making the first of todays excursions into the crowd, that there is no sound of departing bandwagons and a real sense of justice in the busy pit that greets them.
Heaven Shall Burn are devil music. This is what satan coughing black bile must sound like, and its fucking brilliant. Desperately heavy rhythms grind and roar and fit and start and frontman Marcus has a simply monstrous voice. The fact that HSB have been engineering goliath hardcore like this for years is painfully obvious and their set is a real highlight.
But then we get to As i Lay Dying. The main attraction, and they better have something special ready to make the Mean Fiddler forget about the knee cramp and back pain from standing up the last six hours.
Fortunately, from the first note the band are titanic, in the original, not the boat sense of the word. AILD are the most professional here tonight, with no embarrasing mumbling, a real sense of 'show' and the way their new material always drills its hardcore crunch back to unforgettable melody.
Every band member is moving and sweating buckets by the time they play '94 Hours'. The pit hits overdrive and therein lies a problem. I'm sure getting punched in the face is great fun but it also makes for addictive viewing and the violence on the dancefloor makes it difficult to pay attention to the music. And when that happens at a show this good it's a real shame.
Some of the bands tonight have a tendency to attract the sweaty shirtless male back to metal, which is never good, but they are all resurrecting the lost art of having some fun at a rock show, and that is exactly the point.
Despite plenty of examples to the contrary over in the States, the UK has had no experience of tour packages like Hell On Earth. Tours featuring the more interesting or experienced of bands playing metal and hardcore rather than a hasty line up of usual suspects and flavours of the month we love so much (Cough...Give it a Name, Taste of Chaos...Cough).
And Neaera prove a perfect antidote to all the floppy fringes and tight pants fighting for space at the bar. Behind the speedy guitar, sneering vocal growl and familiar but crushing breakdown the band are hilariously but unashamedly foot-on-the-monitor all out metal. They face the impossible, engaging a London crowd and 5 in the evening but do so with entertaining music and huge smiles.
Agents of Man have learnt their tricks at the Pantera and Biohazard school of noise, combining groove and power with a gritty melody, but despite their older, heavier material bringing the first real pit action of the day they haven't quite graduated.
Evergreen Terrace have lighter and punkier edges that work really well. Theirs is the sound most applicable to the fashionista element present but they play with such obvious desire and passion; frontman Andrew making the first of todays excursions into the crowd, that there is no sound of departing bandwagons and a real sense of justice in the busy pit that greets them.
Heaven Shall Burn are devil music. This is what satan coughing black bile must sound like, and its fucking brilliant. Desperately heavy rhythms grind and roar and fit and start and frontman Marcus has a simply monstrous voice. The fact that HSB have been engineering goliath hardcore like this for years is painfully obvious and their set is a real highlight.
But then we get to As i Lay Dying. The main attraction, and they better have something special ready to make the Mean Fiddler forget about the knee cramp and back pain from standing up the last six hours.
Fortunately, from the first note the band are titanic, in the original, not the boat sense of the word. AILD are the most professional here tonight, with no embarrasing mumbling, a real sense of 'show' and the way their new material always drills its hardcore crunch back to unforgettable melody.
Every band member is moving and sweating buckets by the time they play '94 Hours'. The pit hits overdrive and therein lies a problem. I'm sure getting punched in the face is great fun but it also makes for addictive viewing and the violence on the dancefloor makes it difficult to pay attention to the music. And when that happens at a show this good it's a real shame.
Some of the bands tonight have a tendency to attract the sweaty shirtless male back to metal, which is never good, but they are all resurrecting the lost art of having some fun at a rock show, and that is exactly the point.
9.30.2005
Forget everything that was said before...
...now is the time
LISTEN TO The Hurt Process.
UK boys done good. The album 'A Heartbeat Behind' came out early this year and since then THP have been busy trying to convince Americans how good they are. But they're better than that.
This is quick but powerful, heavy and emotional rock, with the odd hardcore hissy-fit tempered by moments of serentity. And songs about pirates.
Go see them on the Trick or Treat tour with Aiden over the rest of October, it'll be interesting to see if the genuine intensity they used to play with remains after a few line-up changes over the summer.
LISTEN TO The Hurt Process.
UK boys done good. The album 'A Heartbeat Behind' came out early this year and since then THP have been busy trying to convince Americans how good they are. But they're better than that.
This is quick but powerful, heavy and emotional rock, with the odd hardcore hissy-fit tempered by moments of serentity. And songs about pirates.
Go see them on the Trick or Treat tour with Aiden over the rest of October, it'll be interesting to see if the genuine intensity they used to play with remains after a few line-up changes over the summer.
9.28.2005
CIRCA SURVIVE. Metro, London. 26.09.05
"This doesn't even feel like a show, it feels like a party," says Anthony Green as his new band play another rock song.
He's right; there's barely 50 people in here tonight. The big open space and blasting air conditioning hardly helpful for sticky gig mania and the band aren't even that good. But this isn't a party at all, and it certainly isn't just another show. This is a jaw dropping and actually unbelievable, intense yet utterly welcoming bona fide event.
Y'see all the people that are here are here because little Anthony Green used to be in Saosin. A band that should be huge but that's not the point, with Anthony shaking and high pitched singing at the helm they were a band that inspired absolute devotion. And the screams, sweat and tears of that still follow him.
From their first arrival onstage to their final shamble off it the band move in strobe, bathed in the flash light of what seems like more cameras than people. For the entire time.
There are hands everywhere and it doesn't matter what song Circa Survive play from their canon of dreamy post-hardcore the sparse crowd is amazingly loud, even pawing at the microphone, desperate to join in.
After nearly an hour the band finish and head for the bar but bowing under good natured but seemingly endless pressure for me Green sticks around, now with a guitar in hand, to finish this up properly. His solo song a reminder of how much impact rare things like star quality and sincerity still have.
For 50 minutes Circa Survive, or more appropriately, their lead singer, have the tiny Metro crowd transfixed. Really soon a lot more than 50 people will claim they were here to join in.
He's right; there's barely 50 people in here tonight. The big open space and blasting air conditioning hardly helpful for sticky gig mania and the band aren't even that good. But this isn't a party at all, and it certainly isn't just another show. This is a jaw dropping and actually unbelievable, intense yet utterly welcoming bona fide event.
Y'see all the people that are here are here because little Anthony Green used to be in Saosin. A band that should be huge but that's not the point, with Anthony shaking and high pitched singing at the helm they were a band that inspired absolute devotion. And the screams, sweat and tears of that still follow him.
From their first arrival onstage to their final shamble off it the band move in strobe, bathed in the flash light of what seems like more cameras than people. For the entire time.
There are hands everywhere and it doesn't matter what song Circa Survive play from their canon of dreamy post-hardcore the sparse crowd is amazingly loud, even pawing at the microphone, desperate to join in.
After nearly an hour the band finish and head for the bar but bowing under good natured but seemingly endless pressure for me Green sticks around, now with a guitar in hand, to finish this up properly. His solo song a reminder of how much impact rare things like star quality and sincerity still have.
For 50 minutes Circa Survive, or more appropriately, their lead singer, have the tiny Metro crowd transfixed. Really soon a lot more than 50 people will claim they were here to join in.
9.23.2005
HONDO MACLEAN- Unspoken Dialect
Hondo Maclean, constantly compared to LostProphets and Funeral for a Friend through a fluke of geography, blow any musical similaraities out the water within ten seconds of 'Keithie's Done Himself a Mischief', the first track on this, their debut album.
The music is thunderous. Rolling percussion and sheet metal guitar skip and start, foot tapping grooves pop up from under discordant noise where vocals twine and float with the music.
As on their previous EP's, but here with more conviction and especially noticeable on the re-recorded tracks, Ben Woosnam's voice becomes another instrument at the band's disposal, switching from smooth croon to impassioned scream to hellish rumble.
There are reference points; the pop sensibilities of a band like Thursday fight for space with the varied aggression of Glassjaw and the dreamy droning of Hopesfall but Hondo never stay in one place long enough to be accused of copycatting.
A decent first album of diverse and memorable tunes that should see Hondo Maclean's fan base expand well beyond the boundaries of borders.
But rumours of the album being titled 'Get Your Riffs Out' should've been oh so true.
The music is thunderous. Rolling percussion and sheet metal guitar skip and start, foot tapping grooves pop up from under discordant noise where vocals twine and float with the music.
As on their previous EP's, but here with more conviction and especially noticeable on the re-recorded tracks, Ben Woosnam's voice becomes another instrument at the band's disposal, switching from smooth croon to impassioned scream to hellish rumble.
There are reference points; the pop sensibilities of a band like Thursday fight for space with the varied aggression of Glassjaw and the dreamy droning of Hopesfall but Hondo never stay in one place long enough to be accused of copycatting.
A decent first album of diverse and memorable tunes that should see Hondo Maclean's fan base expand well beyond the boundaries of borders.
But rumours of the album being titled 'Get Your Riffs Out' should've been oh so true.
9.20.2005
THRICE. Mean Fiddler, London. 19.09.05
Jesus, the Mean Fiddler can be an unforgiving sound sucking hole of a venue but my god, Thrice are a tight unit.
Playing the first of just three UK dates this week as a tease for new album 'Vheissu' which is out next month, the band come out not so much fighting but at least heads down and workmanlike, like they always do, and as always, it's a little underwhelming.
The first few songs are swallowed by the bad PA but Thrice, now with four albums under their belts, are all seasoned professionals and the absolute quality of the songs they produce shines through. 'Kill me Quickly', 'Trust' and 'Cold Cash...' are taut, emotional rock songs, just as on record, but tonight are transformed into forever memorable hymns.
And there is an adoration verging on bloodlust from the capacity crowd who listen intently, scream back every word and dance hard and fast, for many this is near religious stuff.
Four new songs appear tonight and despite the faintest whiff of meek and loose indie material, they eventually rock with trademark heaviness and melody.
Finishing with a perfect rendition of 'Deadbolt', Thrice leave to a lenghty, deafening roar but without fanfare, probabaly content in the knowledge that even without explosions or fire or eyeliner they'll see London many more times.
They'll be back in the New Year with Coheed and Cambria, miss that at your eternal regret.
Playing the first of just three UK dates this week as a tease for new album 'Vheissu' which is out next month, the band come out not so much fighting but at least heads down and workmanlike, like they always do, and as always, it's a little underwhelming.
The first few songs are swallowed by the bad PA but Thrice, now with four albums under their belts, are all seasoned professionals and the absolute quality of the songs they produce shines through. 'Kill me Quickly', 'Trust' and 'Cold Cash...' are taut, emotional rock songs, just as on record, but tonight are transformed into forever memorable hymns.
And there is an adoration verging on bloodlust from the capacity crowd who listen intently, scream back every word and dance hard and fast, for many this is near religious stuff.
Four new songs appear tonight and despite the faintest whiff of meek and loose indie material, they eventually rock with trademark heaviness and melody.
Finishing with a perfect rendition of 'Deadbolt', Thrice leave to a lenghty, deafening roar but without fanfare, probabaly content in the knowledge that even without explosions or fire or eyeliner they'll see London many more times.
They'll be back in the New Year with Coheed and Cambria, miss that at your eternal regret.
9.14.2005
SWIFT- The Absolute Uncontrollable
Genuine and beautiful melody and rangy but fast hardcore, spiky, racing guitars and fierce and fine vocals all cooking together. This is great stuff and it's all within track one.
Tribunal Records carry on their fine tradition of unearthing real gems (previously releasing stuff by Atreyu, Killwhitneydead and Prayer for Cleansing) with the arrival of Swift.
This is very much a blend of contemporary metallic influences but as 'The Absolute Uncontrollable' plays out it becomes a record impossible to pigeonhole. It isn't a perfect record, the production, despite being handled by Jaime King (He is Legend, BTBAM) leaves vocals low and the guitars too high in the mix and some of the songs, even as overflowing with clever hooks as they are, drag just a little.
Minor gripes aside, it is nearly perfect and how often can that truly be said. There are hundreds of ideas here but this isn't progressive, over reaching or confused, just plain old brilliant.
Tribunal Records carry on their fine tradition of unearthing real gems (previously releasing stuff by Atreyu, Killwhitneydead and Prayer for Cleansing) with the arrival of Swift.
This is very much a blend of contemporary metallic influences but as 'The Absolute Uncontrollable' plays out it becomes a record impossible to pigeonhole. It isn't a perfect record, the production, despite being handled by Jaime King (He is Legend, BTBAM) leaves vocals low and the guitars too high in the mix and some of the songs, even as overflowing with clever hooks as they are, drag just a little.
Minor gripes aside, it is nearly perfect and how often can that truly be said. There are hundreds of ideas here but this isn't progressive, over reaching or confused, just plain old brilliant.
9.03.2005
EVERY TIME I DIE- Gutter Phenomenon
Every Time I Die live shows have always seen the band walking the fine line between life-of-the-party ultra confidence and cocky arrogance and now the music they produce has gone and caught up.
'Gutter Phenomenon', their third album, makes their change from angry and loud punk kids to down and dirty, tune-puking rock'n'rollers, complete.
There are huge hooks here, from Keith Buckley breaking the habit of nearly seven years and cracking out the perfect smoke and whiskey singing voice to the handclaps and Slipknot like riffery of 'Pretty Dirty'.
'Gutter Phenomenon' is an album to prove every bad word ever said about Every Time I Die totally wrong. This isn't noise for noise sake, or metal kids acting clever. However sharp and spiky they play, producer Machine has made this thick sounding, enveloping stuff. The songs flex and ease in exactly the right places, the temper and tunes balanced, with just enough sass for new fans covering up the same old lyrical venom.
Destined to be huge whether you like it or not
'Gutter Phenomenon', their third album, makes their change from angry and loud punk kids to down and dirty, tune-puking rock'n'rollers, complete.
There are huge hooks here, from Keith Buckley breaking the habit of nearly seven years and cracking out the perfect smoke and whiskey singing voice to the handclaps and Slipknot like riffery of 'Pretty Dirty'.
'Gutter Phenomenon' is an album to prove every bad word ever said about Every Time I Die totally wrong. This isn't noise for noise sake, or metal kids acting clever. However sharp and spiky they play, producer Machine has made this thick sounding, enveloping stuff. The songs flex and ease in exactly the right places, the temper and tunes balanced, with just enough sass for new fans covering up the same old lyrical venom.
Destined to be huge whether you like it or not
8.31.2005
SINCE THE FLOOD- Valor and Vengeance
With lyrics addressing the old hardcore standards of blood, family, revenge and respect grunted over barrelling riffs and breakdowns, Since the Flood are obviously not in this for the fame or the money or the chicks. There are no foot long fringes in sight, no hint of clean singing to appease any easy listeners. They mean it (man) but are absolutely unabashed at who knows it and that is just the sort of refreshing the growing-staler-by-the-day scene needs right now. A sort of honest and earnest brand of hardcore that very few of todays 'hardcore' bands actually employ.
That doesn't mean 'Valor and Vengeance' is straight ahead boring though. The pace is quick but not hurried and there are large chunks of guitar melody to colour the venom. All ably brough out by Ken Susi's fat production. The Unearth guitarist's influences can felt throughout as the distorted growl and inventive breakdowns of his band appear often.
No new wheels then but when a good old engine sounds a healthy as this, that doesn't really matter
That doesn't mean 'Valor and Vengeance' is straight ahead boring though. The pace is quick but not hurried and there are large chunks of guitar melody to colour the venom. All ably brough out by Ken Susi's fat production. The Unearth guitarist's influences can felt throughout as the distorted growl and inventive breakdowns of his band appear often.
No new wheels then but when a good old engine sounds a healthy as this, that doesn't really matter
8.20.2005
MY AWESOME COMPILATION- Actions
Simplicity. One of the most overlooked qualities of good music, but one that My Awesome Compilation have in spades. Verse chorus verse may be a much maligned method, especially in these days of mathcore madness, but the class of tracks like 'Set to go' and 'Put up a Fight', despie their over Britishness and complete lack of fuss, is undeniable.
'Actions' is an album of delicious and memorable vocal harmonies, shimmering guitar and keyboard fun. Not exactly a recipe to make the band Britain's next great white hopes but certainly one with enough delictae uniqueness and wholesome honesty to ensure a loyal fan base and lasting success.
It's a long shot but MAC could be very big indeed.
'Actions' is an album of delicious and memorable vocal harmonies, shimmering guitar and keyboard fun. Not exactly a recipe to make the band Britain's next great white hopes but certainly one with enough delictae uniqueness and wholesome honesty to ensure a loyal fan base and lasting success.
It's a long shot but MAC could be very big indeed.
8.12.2005
FALL OUT BOY- From Under the Cork Tree
I hate Fall Out Boy. Since I listened to 'From Under the Cork Tree', the Chicago quartet's third album I can't get their sun punk melodies out of my head.
Lead singer, Patrick Stump, possesses a Marmite of voices, sounding as breathless as a teenage kiss but singing images of smiles with every line while the rest of the band do their best to win The Band That Sounds Most Like Everybody Else competition.
'Summer Song' and 'Get Busy Living...' rock and roll along on the kind of Morrisey mope that Bayside and Copeland also employ.
'Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner' speeds in sounding like No Doubt before skipping a beat into Blink punk territory, it may be a landscape laced with sarcasm rather than toilet humour, but this is instantly hummable stuff.
As most tracks arrive on the same skittery guitar noise there is a temptation to reach for the skip button but every song, left to sprint finish or slowly unravel, reveals a hook looking to screw its way into your brain.
From the opening track, to 'Dance, Dance', to first single 'Sugar, We're Goin' Down', these songs are going to sound amazing sung by thousands of arena goers and Warped Tour ticket holders. All that and then some beckons for FOB if enough people hear this album, even by accident, because one listen and it's in there, drilling deeper, until you have to know the lyrics, until you're dancing in your room.
In the middle of America while a thousand other misty-eyed lovers that have lost are finding emo, Fall Out Boy have found the sense of humour to laugh of their broken hearts and have some goddamn fun.
Makes sense to me.
Lead singer, Patrick Stump, possesses a Marmite of voices, sounding as breathless as a teenage kiss but singing images of smiles with every line while the rest of the band do their best to win The Band That Sounds Most Like Everybody Else competition.
'Summer Song' and 'Get Busy Living...' rock and roll along on the kind of Morrisey mope that Bayside and Copeland also employ.
'Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner' speeds in sounding like No Doubt before skipping a beat into Blink punk territory, it may be a landscape laced with sarcasm rather than toilet humour, but this is instantly hummable stuff.
As most tracks arrive on the same skittery guitar noise there is a temptation to reach for the skip button but every song, left to sprint finish or slowly unravel, reveals a hook looking to screw its way into your brain.
From the opening track, to 'Dance, Dance', to first single 'Sugar, We're Goin' Down', these songs are going to sound amazing sung by thousands of arena goers and Warped Tour ticket holders. All that and then some beckons for FOB if enough people hear this album, even by accident, because one listen and it's in there, drilling deeper, until you have to know the lyrics, until you're dancing in your room.
In the middle of America while a thousand other misty-eyed lovers that have lost are finding emo, Fall Out Boy have found the sense of humour to laugh of their broken hearts and have some goddamn fun.
Makes sense to me.
8.11.2005
THE NUMBER TWELVE LOOKS LIKE YOU- An Inch of Gold for an Inch of Time
A four track storm front of horrible, unblinking, wheezing noise only interrupted by Hades sounding vocal embellishments or shrill fret wanks. And a cover of My Sharona by The Knack. Awesome.
7.27.2005
ZAO- The Funeral of God
It's difficult to know what audience Zao are going for with this, their ninth album.
The passing of time and band members has made 'The Funeral of God' far less abrasive than previous efforts and in fact weaker than anything currently on offer from same-label macabra obsessives Bleeding Through or riff brethren Throwdown.
The production is thick and fierce but lighter moments are mostly ugly interruptions rather than genuine flashes of a desire to change or brilliance and newly appointed clean vocals feel uncomforatbel and tacked on.
There are a few standout moments, the twisting static and screams of opener 'Breath of the the Black Muse' and the Pantera-like groove to 'Praise the War Machine' but the tempo, high though it is, remains almost constant, leading to deja vu and eventually boredom.
Back to the drawing board then.
The passing of time and band members has made 'The Funeral of God' far less abrasive than previous efforts and in fact weaker than anything currently on offer from same-label macabra obsessives Bleeding Through or riff brethren Throwdown.
The production is thick and fierce but lighter moments are mostly ugly interruptions rather than genuine flashes of a desire to change or brilliance and newly appointed clean vocals feel uncomforatbel and tacked on.
There are a few standout moments, the twisting static and screams of opener 'Breath of the the Black Muse' and the Pantera-like groove to 'Praise the War Machine' but the tempo, high though it is, remains almost constant, leading to deja vu and eventually boredom.
Back to the drawing board then.
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