Fleshgod Apocalypse - Agony review

Year : 2011
Genre : Symphonic Technical Death Metal
Label : Nuclear Blast Records
Origin : Italy
Rating : 9.3 / 10

Buy it now

If you want to come up with one of the most masochistic schemes a random mind could conceive to kill time with, then counting the number of bass drum beats this here release from Italy's premiere symphonic death metal act features, is a choice you can surely and safely rely on. Agony packs pretty much maximum level intensity by playing out even the one last, secretive, remaining remembrance of holy shit out of death metal, making this outing nothing less than a - in respectful freestyle after mixed martial arts legend Ken Shamrock - hymn to living death.

This album, while represents, maybe, even defines a kind of over the top extremity, brings with itself subtle tools of profound elegance to project light on the monumental sonic surface it emerges to crush you to a sticker as. Once you are ready to open your mind to the fact that Fleshgod Apocalypse writes the story into a Space Odyssey monolith using titanium jackhammers, - with a casual symphony as accompaniment - then you are good to sit on board, and are likely to experience something you and your receptive mind had no part of before. Be wary though, because these jackhammers are ever-present and persistent enough to put a superbly short end to the lazy ear. To these ears, only a classic saying remains, one which you can find at the closure of this review. Read more to find out - among other things - what that is.



Agony is a layered affair, as it consists of two simultaneously occurring flow of autonomous and co-existent events. You have a functional, full-blown and tastily orchestrated symphony, caught up in the relentless machine gun fire administered with almost no end by the band's tremendous death metal minigun arsenal. The question here isn't if this rampant spin features parts of double bass - the question is, if it features parts that have no double bass. Sure, it does. The LP's raw power charisma is constructed solidly on a sober sense of balance regarding jackhammer-engagement periods, as the mere rumble the traditional death metal components - drums, guitars, bass - are producing herein, no doubt reign as the most pronounced presence of the affair. This rampantly mad and madly rampant death roar is teased constantly by the underlying background symphony, that which never loses its capacity to enrich, and, in a sense, to assuage the relentless mayhem of the persistent death rumble addressed above.

To topple an already quite functional concept, Agony exhibits the keen and quite fruitful readiness to give the definitive finger to its own nature on occasions, with nothing else in mind than to submit to the much more tenderly silhouetted aspects of music. The record features smartly positioned safe zones, so to speak, musical spaces that will entertain the ears with extremely straightforward classical intermezzos. Having zero concept nor awareness of the act of deceit, they come with a white flag, operated by the unalloyed intent of throwing a grasp of recreational breath into the mix here and there. Fortunately, these intermezzos have the tendency to surprise you even while the record is having one of its notorious onslaughts. Agony exhibits superb craftsmanship and features advanced compositional techniques, venturing forward on occasions to such surprising and functional territories as opera, and, rather efficient opera at that. How it is efficient? It is such, because the tracks feature only little glimpses of it, but those glimpses are reflected in eyes you will remember, eyes you want to soak yours into again.

Though it is easy to regard the aforementioned rumble created by the drums and guitars as a sonic mass, on careful observation, the mere immensity of this mass starts to account its own shapes and forms, and this act of consciously "going-after-it" is what is required on YOUR part in order to get the full experience the outing is capable to offer as its ultimate value. It is a waste of good suffering to resonate the evident and state that Agony is not an easily accessible record, primarily because being easily accessible is exactly the last one of its concerns. Fleshgod Apocalypse delivers the memorable full musculature hybrid of symphony and extreme metal, and the magic simply is formed by the sheer sonic volume these combined elements are rabidly occupying. Symphony is elegantly liquidated in its nature, and it keeps its capacity to live and shine even if a wartank is in constant siege beside it. Death metal is wartank, symphony is oil in its engine. A combination that might very well emerge as one of the most significant deliveries of the year. Oh, and, for the lazy ears, and, for the lazy ears only : this is better than it sounds to - you. Listen again, maybe?

Rating : 9.3 / 10

If you liked this article, check out my music

and / or

Buy me beer. Read more!

Deathraiser - Violent Aggression review

Year : 2011
Genre : Thrash Metal
Label : Independent
Origin : Brazil
Rating : 6.0 / 10

Buy it now

Brazilian Deathraiser's efficiency reaches its constant and quite limited peak through the band's insatiable desire to engage full power weaponry right away. This musical intent to kill on sight, while super-similar to recent delivery Toxic Holocaust's Conjure and Command in nature, now comes to you in an even more pronounced form. THAT would be something to say. A record coming to you with such charming of a title as "Violent Aggression", surely must be violent and aggressive, as violence doesn't tend to be peaceful, does it? Attempting to channel radical emotional energy via relentlessly intense playing being committed against nearby musical instruments is legit, yes, but!

When 75% of your 27 minutes record is based on the same fucking riff being chased around on a single guitar string, then you can sell your first three songs maybe, before putting your audience to sleep. You play for sleeping people from then on, which is a rather perplexing sight, considering the style's spiritual mission. Read on to know more about this otherwise quite charismatic and vile Brazilian sleep deprivation experiment.


Deathraiser gives ALL for the considerable joy of controlled inner destruction, and, luckily, the band has a very fine and profound - behold or kill the beauty of the paradox - sense of balance as far as presentation and production "needs". As noted, this album sounds filthy and vile, as a thrash album probably should. But it does not do anything else than accomplishing its goal of sounding filthy and vile right from its first second. The riffs, though showing the capacity to exist with a function, are very rudimentary and lack any form of elegance, and are born without exception from the mere intent to demand something out of those musical instruments by sheer muscle power. Sure, they will submit and give out to you some weird sonic entities reigning in a place between noise and music, but the pulse of the record is an entirely different matter, and also one this release shows extremely limited capacities at.

The plan on this here spin is to summon the same intense feel, but it has no more than two faces on this LP. Yes, I counted it. Twice. You have a speedy tempo, and a mid tempo. In the middle? In the middle you have the Magical Naked Guitar Riff, that shows itself around for half a bar or two, bowing down to the golden tradition of thrash. The vocalist is decent, his pitch-lacking spouting is swimming in the mix JUST at the right height, and, funnily enough, the solid, raw guitar solos tend to intercept you in an intentionally monumental fashion. Whenever they arrive, they command everything in the background, and then they state their respective verdicts.

The music, on the other hand, is so profoundly limited that the occasional tempo changes it shows some level of mercy with, all feel like a woman's touch after years in Hell's most imaginative prison. If very limited thrash is your cup of tea, then bring a gasoline can with you and fill it with this. If very limited thrash is not your cup of tea, then still give it a listen, because the sound of the album is pretty legit. All other stuff on it is : uhuh, thank you, come again.

Rating : 6.0 / 10

If you liked this article, check out my music

and / or

Buy me beer. Read more!

Hokum - The Creation of Pain review

Year : 2011
Genre : Groove Thrash Metalcore
Label : GoodDamn Records
Origin : Germany
Rating : 6.0 / 10

Buy it now

Though confusing it may sound, - pun just might be intended - German group Hokum thrashes emo metalcore with a groove. The record, though presenting the results of this experiment with such intense of a stare fixed on its own body that it very well could destruct a statue in a staredown contest, finds itself in a more and more difficult position to bring you elements worth scrutinizing as the spin approaches its middle grounds, having shown everything by that point that it is capable to show. Having shown everything it aspires to show.

Based on initial impressions you could form by watching the group's earlier - and great - work, one must suspect that the this time around extremely slimy metalcore component of this outing is incorporated into this otherwise gritty fabric to appeal to a wider audience, one fond at feeding on romantic angst, bitterness-comfort and routine-disillusionment, but the emo screaming and song structures demand a steep price now. They arrive and afflict, and tend to smuggle a bad taste in the mouth of the follow up full-paua groove that attempts to kick nearby asses nice and proper. With an introductory ado, this here record sounds to be tainted with over-emoted elements seeking to bow down to shortcuts not necessarily worth bowing down to. Read on to find more about the operational field of this relatively compromised, but doubtlessly decently presented delivery.



Hokum takes a Philip Anselmo mimicry, puts a pepperoni rocket in his ass, ignites the thing, and makes the host scream on top of well thought out and solidly presented grooves, riffs and whatnot. Grooves and riffs that, unfortunately, sound to have little connection with each other, a flaw that sounds to haunt this record persistently. The Creation of Pain indeed is worthy of its name, as you are forced to attempt to put a cautious foot on the musical fabric that does not sound to have any more agenda than to address its own urge to exhibit constant fluctuation. Your awareness is subjected to persistent bribery throughout this effort, as the band shoots doubtlessly well constructed, but, at heart, random musical stuff after random musical stuff at you, yet exceptionally strong riffs or grooves are nowhere to be found. They are not invited. All is administered so it is suitable to scream lines on top of, yet the one particular feeling the tracks are excelling masterfully at invoking, is that of a quiet state of secretive, bored confusion : one that makes you wonder what should you do with the well presented, but directionless masses of grooves and riffs that have no other evident function than to connect two emo sequences, while the exact, "verbatim", copied Philip Anselmo melodic lines are echoing in your head. Because you just have heard them being stolen. Again. Note-to-note, bend-to-bend theft, dude.

Groove gets traded for a riff, a riff gets squashed by a groove, then a slimy pile of emo metalcore snot-covered ball of contagious radioactive urine - which is not good for your health at all, mind you - bitchslaps you silly and you are forced to reset your awareness before reaching the point of no return. The instrumental elements easily are the best aspects of this spin, as the record produces a wide, weighty sound, and the riffs and grooves have the noticeable will to try and render life, but they do not know each other, and, as such, they remain riffs and grooves with autonomous, respective charisma and dignity, seeking partners, but they never quite seem to find one, on this spin. Hokum gives you musical idea on top of musical idea, and the common denominator of these is NOT a well structured conception to connect those, but Philip Anselmo's mimicry, addressing his favorite frustrations to date. Not a bad album. Worse : mediocre.

Rating : 6.0 / 10

If you liked this article, check out my music

and / or

Buy me beer. Read more!

Symphony X - Iconoclast review

Year : 2011
Genre : Progressive Power Metal
Label : Nuclear Blast
Origin : United States
Rating : 9.2 / 10

Buy it now

Premiere Yngwie Malmsteen product Michael Romeo and band bring you supertight sonic stimuli as result of four years of creative work, declaring extremely convincing reasons to soak your ears in the mecha-polyptic vision the group's latest release to date chooses as its direction to keep the focus on.

Talking about the instrumental portion of this ripe and extremely well chiseled creation, it sounds safe to say that Symphony X's Iconoclast is the mere sound of the music video games like Quake IV should have contained instead of the excuse for the music they got beaten to the death of the aspired mood with. Iconoclast is well researched, crystal clear, accessible-, yet intricate metal music that has a properly vulgar urge to relentlessly submit to all things cyborg, mecha and chrome at - oops - heart. It is nothing wrong at all with an intent to give all things to the cyber to see what music it will spout back at you, and Iconoclast manages to introduce a unique kind of vocal field to succumb to the atmosphere it attempts to picture. Read on to find more, or this Grade 3 Security Warbot will end you in 3, 2, ...


Michael Romeo and Co. took the time and focus to create the intricate cybernetic metal that you secretly - and, well, silently - knew it would be possible, and now, here it is, to you to behold. The instrumental work on these tracks tolerate nothing less than the steepest of recognition. The riffs, while accessible at heart, show constant tendency to offer elegant, brave and effective variations of themselves without any occasion to lose their pure musculature focus on, and the rhythmic changes always will take you to a field you can regard as a place worth checking out, considering how the preceding musical developments decided to take you there. The compositions are eventful, flamboyant, extremely complex and keep a focus on sole, super-solid guitar work. It is a privilege to hear. Samples or industrial noises are not being utilized to make you believe that : "this is cyba', dudette, because it is sampled", it is all the music's agenda to make you believe it is. Guitar solos are one of the favorite fetishes IF not the favorite of a proper guitar psycho, and Michael Romeo, riding on 111% Malmsteen-Octane influence, - it is very indicative of Romeo's Malsteen fetish that the title track contains a duel between a soloing guitar and a synth, "Far Beyond the Sun" much recently????,,, - no doubt knows how to offer a solo that commits the Fatality - Flawless Victory against your musical awareness.

With some exceptions of brilliance, only acceptable and moderate-at-best intellectual efforts were put into the lyrics though, delivered along pretty traditional power metal singing language. This decision of giving progressive power metal a good rep by rendering a sci-fi atmosphere instead of the "we fight to the end and we have swords!" fantasy vibe, shows mixed, nevertheless always charming results. It is only that sometimes you will find the stench of meat sweat whereas you hoped to touch a set of dainty, lethal cybernetic fingers. The melodic arches of the singed lines sometimes - and not frequently, logically enough - refrain from giving the aforementioned cybernetic middle finger to everyday average - nevertheless solid - power metal singing, and, even the vibe of fantasy related power metal will surface on the record on some occasions. The opening track is a good example : while the song itself is a monumental mechanoid declaration consisting of riffs that can nuke a secret military base, a power metalish "we! are! strong! we! will! stand! and! fight!" simply "had" to be incorporated into its pure titanium fabric. It is not to say that it is bad - it simply seems/sounds to be hyper-cheese, considering its much more elegant surroundings. It is more efficient when you FEEL this inner stance, and it simply loses from its efficiency when you NEED to state it. Why harass and state the Evident?

Addendum to this review on 2015. 6. 25. : The hooks on this release could be praised much, but could not be praised TOO much. I have heard appalling opinions on how Russel Allen could not come up with "memorable melodies" and whatnot, frankly, I have no idea which TV show these individuals are watching. Do yourself a favor and listen to this album in separate sittings, - I do not suggest to blow yourself up, I mean, not until I'm there to videotape it (joking, I have a terrible senCe of humor and null concept of proper typing) - and you will hear that pretty much each and every song has a magnificent hook incorporated - even the "we! are! strong! we! will! fight!" - cheesefest becomes tolerable. 

But check out the hooks/structure in songs like: "Prometheus"! - total melodic Pantera! Very uplifting, and filled with a galaxy of bullballs. How about the hook of "Light up the Night"? - simply amazing! Quite reminiscent of the best songwriting contained on Malmsteen's vocal-filled tracks - check out "Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse" for a truly badass Yngwie Malmsteen vocal song - as the vibe is definitely power metal, but with a furious vibe, the vide power metal works the best with! The whole structure indeed is coated in flames and raging hopelessness. The vibe is of an individual who decided to embrace the hopelessness, and then pulls it to a clinch and jumps off the cliff - that is crumbling, anyway, so no point in not doing it - to die with it. Embrace the leftover-dignity when you have to die, or die miserably, so in their soul everyone will secretly think that you suck so severely saggy goat tits. Anyway, another fantastic hook!

And the record just keeps throwing these amazing hooks at you, that are easy to not notice at first, simply as result of the length of the record. The length indeed is prone to induce attention fatigue, so the release is definitely best listened to on separate occasions. Here is another hook-, in fact, a whole structure that I love from this release: "Lords of Chaos", which contains a hook that is the anti-thesis of the hook I have deconstructed before that, which was "Light Up the Night". In "Lords of Chaos", the prospects are idealistic, you and Co. skim the multidimensional surface of the existence field as cosmic immortals, doing whatever you desire with whoever you desire, but doing it with 111% efficiency, because you have potentials enough to be able to do that - what's not to like? Also notice the verse structure in the song, how the guitars going kind of melodic Meshuggah on your hide! Allan Russel's melodic vocals riding on their skillfully warped sonic volumetrics with ballsy elegance and efficiency. Fantastic ideas all over that are very easy to notice if you pay attention, and very easy to miss out on if you are exhausted as result of attention fatigue. Which is a real thing, and it affects you the more you listen to something. (OR someone, oh baby.) 

Another hooks that are very strong: "Heretic", and its relative sibling, "Bastards of the Machine" - these two are similar, but quite-quite decent. I very much like the hook of "When All Is Lost", too, even though the verse is a little but too cheesefest for me, - and for you, too - because the lyrics in the verse do not make particular sense. "I hope you understand. Someday." - oh boy, I hope I won't, EVER. But it is OK, I have no problem if and when Russel Allen - who is a superb singer in my opinion - comes up with alibi lines from time to time. He and his peers had the assumption that a fathery "I hope you understand, someday" is a line that simply never fails. Oh, you guys got that ALL wrong. For a proper music snob, a line like "I hope you understand, someday" : is an immediate and timeless fail. Russel also has this fascinating Angel-seeking fixation, probably as result of cultural conditioning. Good luck escaping THAT one! (Cultural conditioning, not the angel or Russel). On his solo release, "Atomic Soul" - a fantastic record I must say, because he exhibits his raw voice without any and all effect fuckaroundery, an in-your-face, raw, melodic hard rock release with superb compositions - so he has this "Angel" song, with lyrics along the train of thought: "Angel, where are you now, no one can save me, only you know how" - which is fine, fine. But he has a 2007 -first of a series of - collaboration with another performer - Lande - and there is a song on that release which features quite similar trains of thoughts. My point is that Russel has his own share of inner fixations, which is totally acceptable, but, provided we are yet to see a third occasion by which Russel is searching for the Angels, we will have to conclude that he is not doing something right, otherwise he would already have found them, correct? Or it might be the simple case that Russel secretly has them, and only PRETENDS to be looking for them, which, once again, is totally acceptable, as you do not have to be miserable in order to be eligible to pretend that you are, for the fun of it, for the art of it, for the entertainment of it. 

There are some other hooks on the release yet that I like, too! "Dehumanized" has a superb structure all over, and notice the verse, as well: kind of Pantera vocals. A nod to Pantera is given in the song "Reign in Madness" : the middle section is so obviously and admittedly built on Pantera's "Walk" that no copyright holder would every think of voicing this fact, because it is an obvious tribute to Dimebag, and the gesture is beautiful enough to reign galaxies above considerations of copyrights and stuff. Wow, a listening to it and tears filled my eyes! Shit, Cthulhu is here with a beer! Addendum on 2015.06.25 ends, article continues based on the thoughts formed on 2011.07.25. 

Many things could have been said about this outing yet, but, ultimately, it still remains a disc that luckily seeks to offer tons of luscious, integral and straightforward stuff to be listened to, and not stuff to offer layered lamentations about. Iconoclast is an instrumentally brilliant experience, which though has a tame, but noticeable tendency to deliver lyrical content that is easy to laugh out loud out at, regardless how it meant to be taken ice cold serious. On the other hand, some lines and related cyber-thoughts are pretty solid, but these are rare to find. The intricacy and beauty of the music will smash you anyway, so there will be not much time to whine too fervently about those. This easily would be a 9.5 or even above if to feature legit thoughts all over the place. Yet, the music is so good that it would be a 9.0 even with Kermit rapping on the tracks.

Rating : 9.2 / 10

If you liked this article, check out my music

and / or

Buy me beer. Read more!

Toxic Holocaust - Conjure and Command review

Year : 2011
Genre : Thrash Metal
Label : Relapse Records
Origin : United States
Rating : 6.5 / 10

Buy it now

Toxic Holocaust delivers an album that approaches its objectives with a notable urge to get the job done as swiftly as possible. With its 37 minutes of larger than life intensity, the spin has a solid chance to pull this mission off successfully. This is not necessarily a bad thing, and not necessarily good, either. While the agenda herein simply is to unleash destruction mode right from the beginning of each and every track, the construction of the path that is leading to destruction, still reigns as one of the most flatterable ingredients of the genre, and also as one you simply will find NONE of on this release. However, if what you want is a thrash metal pill that is armed and ready to take you to the intense side of the style, then this spin might be exactly what you are looking for.

Conjure and Command is instant-, and highly traditional, dare we say, conservative thrash metal, an affair that does everything you will likely conceive as essential requirements to satisfy your anticipations regarding intense thrashing, yet never quite leaves you with the feeling of getting entirely bewildered and satisfied by what you have heard. Take it, this IS what you wanted, isn't it? Here are the ingredients. What is wrong, what more, what else could you want? These are legitimate questions that need to be addressed thoroughly. Read more to find out if there are such things. Or aren't.


Toxic Holocaust attempts to fix your thrash needs by moderate-, and above average efforts, at best. The riffs pack acceptable character, yet seldom are the times by which they will punish you with a proper bite to remember. Seldom is not the same as never. The riff work sometimes DOES deliver stunning moments, - the middle section riffing in the track called The Liars Are Burning is an example, but hell, this sounds more like Pantera grooving than thrashing - but these sequences are rare to find. For the majority of the playtime, you will be subjected to riffs that doubtlessly have a very organic connection with the drums, but they tend to stick to their rigorous comfort zones right after revealing their respective character. Fortunately, the members of Toxic Holocaust have a sharp sense of awareness regarding the lifespan and entertainment value of a given idea, and have no problem whatsoever selling variation for you, without you even noticing you are buying it.

These variations though tend to rely solely on tempo change, and this change in tempo sounds to be regarded by the band as an act that should automatically make you content with what you have been just subjected to. The riffage does not succeed at impressing on a constant and restless basis. Sometimes it devastates, and then again, sometimes it tends to submit to the mere act of the consecutive tempo change, taking the role of a background filler, with some alibi-notes thrown in the riff's fabric here and there, in a desperate attempt at trying to fool you of its own mimicked complexity and cunning. The moods and territories the band does arrive back on after a warp, though always are acceptable, rarely reign stunning enough to rip your mind out nice and clean, - aua - regardless how you want THAT, first and foremost. While the visceral feel of the spin has a ripe understanding and handling of its own dynamics, it exhibits mixed results at finding the spots you want to-, you NEED to revisit. The track Nowhere to run is a peak moment of the album, while the consecutive one, I am Disease sounds to be a mediocre Sad but True clone worth a smile on Christmas eve.

The greatest downside to this album though, is the vocal contribution. Frankly, it is very uneventful and packs only ONE register, and it lacks all sort of playfulness, dark appeal or notable character. A disillusioned, tightened-throat nervous breakdown, the one you hear from your neighbor when his lawnmower gives out on him under this killing sun. Thank you, come again.

Despite the above addressed inconsistencies of this release, and, beyond the disappointing vocal performance, Toxic Holocaust's Conjure and Command still remains a very acceptable and brisk thrash affair, one that gives you a kind of instant thrash that does everything that is needed to be done. But nothing more.

Rating : 6.5 / 10

If you liked this article, check out my musicand / orBuy me beer. Read more!

Yob - Atma review

Year : 2011
Genre : Sludge Doom
Label : Profound Lore
Origin : United States
Rating : 8.2 / 10

Buy it now

Oregon based sludge splasher Yob already has a dedicated fanbase, and it is not without reason, of course. The superficial listener would assume that this trio delivers this extreme sludge metal to eradicate the will to live, but this could not be farer from the truth. Sludge seems to be an art form that is quite suitable to confront your beginner or black belt level demons through the register this music takes place on. While the rules of this style are relatively rigorous, its interpretation field is limitless.

The direction of the sludge can happen for the cleansing, and, for the defilement of the autonomous soul / awareness that connects with it. Some may connect with the filth so they can be free from it when functioning onwards after the listening experience, while others may be depressed by it, by falsely thinking that sludge's agenda is to depress. Nah. Proper sludge simply does not give a sear shit what you do with it. The best part of Yob's latest is that it is this exact kind of - paradoxically enough - elegant nihil-sludge, while the only shortcoming you will likely experience as an appreciator of sludge, is this : the five monstrous tracks of this LP show minor - and ONLY minor - inconsistency regarding the power they are pushing your face into the sludge with. Read on to find more on how much of your spiritual integrity will remain after colliding with this here sledgehammer baby.


The basic methodology the release is employing is easy to grasp unto, as this one is a methodology of a lazy, but quite-quite solid sledgehammer logic. A sludge sobriety that has elaborate tools in its possession it can corner your musical awareness with. After an acceptable and risk free "let's take this decent sludge riff to its logical conclusion" opening track, the second track, called Atma, has all the chance in the world to alter your mood dramatically. It either wrecks it, or cleanses your soul proper. It is up to you, it is your right and decision to select the mark you want the music to leave on you, the content simply needs to render the pattern and the route, and the feeling you walk through on it with, is yours to shape to, so it can shape you.

Atma does render the route, no problem : the opening notes of the first riff are evidently out to administer the hurt real bad, but, their intent to utterly crush is super-obvious, and it is hard to take them serious. The riff, elegantly enough, realizes this deliberate deficit in its character, and the shady thing offers you a hand to shake, via adding a consecutive element to itself, an element that has a friendly, almost tender vibe to it. A tender vibe with such fragile of a duration that you will end up wondering if it really happened at all. Conclusion : when you reach out to shake the hand, only THEN you will see it is holding a knife, though it did NOT, when you started to reach out to accept the handshake. This is the kind of feeling the riff goes for, and this is a much rarer sensation to experience musically, than it is to be crushed by a riff. There are dozens of great riffs on this planet that crush proper, but not many that do deceive masterfully. The LP's second track gives you such a riff, and also it gives this delicately deceiving musical experience.

This titular track, Atma, is great from another point of view, as well. It features an additional sequence that is likely to put a mark in a part of you that you did not know you had. The middle build of the song consists of an extremely down tuned guitar, chugging proudly and infinitely bitterly about the twisted kind of beauty it finds in the sharply defined misery he is devoted representer and slave of, but, here is the catch : this tormented guitar has brought with itself an army of undead just for good measure, and, to make sure you take its meaning seriously. In the middle section of the track's fabric, this almost tragicomic, intent menace of this seemingly solitary, twisted and tormented down tuned chug gets a short, complimentary support from the sonic power of the ENTIRE band, from time to time. They draw short, sharp, and powerful riff patterns, as light would slap the darkness, just to reveal random average tormented zombie faces, and, when darkness falls again, only the chug remains. The chug with a new resonance, one that rides on a fresh promise, a promise that the chug, in fact, might STILL not be alone at all. You can't be sure until the twisted kind of light decides to show up again.

The track Upon the Sight of the Other Shore has a healthy amount of inventive surprises in store for you, as well. This song, while spouting out a sludge that has the capacity to make fun of-, to submit to-, and to soulrape the vibe of folk at the same time, features an impressive vocal contribution with such legitimate howling incorporated in it that you have ever hoped (?) to hear, while, in the later portion of the track, the primal riff suddenly finds itself dwelling in the comfort of madness.

The track Adrift in the Ocean features a set of strong, easily decipherable musical ideas once again being taken to their respective logical conclusions along a well balanced "let's bury hope for fun and see how that feels like" style, and the sludge never loses a continuous, elegant narrative it is riding on. A narrative that exhibits a propensity to construct hope, but demands the right to kill it upon interception. This is the kind of sludge that has a well defined awareness of the entertainment value of its own, intimate and expressed sentiments, and, as such, it does not lose from its charisma by committing the mistake of over-repetition. Yob's sludging is well varied, yet the sludging in Adrift in the Ocean sounds to be one of the most flamboyant sequences on the spin.

This awareness of the mere efficiency of the sludge is almost ever-present on the record, and moments of less appeal and related-, shallower sequences of content-richness are hard to stumble upon, fortunately. Yob's Atma is a sludge pile big enough to wrap a soul around, and also one that no doubt demands a multitude of spins to reveal all aspects of its doubtlessly strong and ripe character.

Rating : 8.2 / 10

If you liked this article, check out my music

and / or

Buy me beer. Read more!

Neurotech - Antagonist review

Year : 2011
Genre : Industrial / Cyber Metal
Label : Independent
Origin : Slovenia
Rating : 7.0 / 10

With Antagonist, the rabid cyborg shredders of Neurotech bring you a straightforward release of chrome clean intent, an affair that has equally well defined affection for the vulgar beauty of the robust guitar chug, and, the oh!, so many characters of the sonic landscapes drawn by larger than life synthesizer sounds. The synthetic rhetorics of brisk cuts and comforting caresses are all ready and able to team up with the bite of the album's monumental rhythm guitar, and, from this point on, there isn't a whole lot of things that can go wrong.

The affair succeeds in a convincing-, albeit not quite sufficiently mindwarping fashion when observed atop the grounds of its muscular, but largely risk free aspirations. The drive herein evidently is to invoke a tight relationship between the signature guitar chug and the synthesizers, creating an icy, sharp unity that render an apocalyptic spiritual vision bathing in a chrome-colored consciousness it likely will submit to. Yes, that cable. Plug yourself in, dudette.

Antagonist is a passionate - but not manic - act of explicit voyeur fetishism, one that scrutinizes the constant fun the immense rhythm guitars are having with the properly bloated, nevertheless elegant sonic masses invoked by an armada of superbly controlled space-synths. The inherent face of the album is ready to show itself right from the start, and that face bears marks that characterize pretty much every single track on this 41 minutes mindhack attempt. Neurotech sounds to have a keen interest in the stoic menace of mid-tempo chugging, giving you the majority of the declarations with thickly, bravely, and skillfully engineered audio weight, ready to take its time to roll a lazy and sure toll in on your neurons.

This constant, persistent presence of an elegant kind of kinetic quasi-sludge hastily and efficiently emerges as the premiere earcandy of the spin, yet the 16th minute mark might raise suspicions if the diligently delivered musical language the album rigorously sticks to has any relevant variations in store for you for its remaining portion. The presented content, while it exhibits an agenda to wage a modest invisible war for your receptors, remains super-reluctant to stroll away from its primal direction of indulging in the trusty, icy 4/4 menace of chug, synth, and cunningly simple, biomechanical percussion.

The variation, whenever it takes place in this intentionally confined stylistic space, finds a good amount of full tissue mechamusculature in its grateful host, and fortunately scarce are the times that you will find yourself entirely unaffected by the stimuli, as its raw restlessness does a good job of keeping your awareness engaged. The compositions themselves reign in a well balanced spot between industrial goth gloom - without the bitterness, luckily - and a playful kind of doom that has more interest in winking secretly to the visceral feel of non-fantasy related power metal, than to submit to a casual abyss its dramatic originator is fond of making love with.

As a consecutive complementary tool of great importance, you will need a rigorous propensity to envision - usually - grave perspectives in a narrative fashion while in the intimate vicinity of armed microphones. Actual singing, this time, truly is not that important, as the current Neurotech musical direction is hard-wired - hah! - to the mere pulse of its own fabric, and pitch based singing, funnily enough, would harm this experience. The vocalist does an acceptable job, delivering the mildly effected crow-like spouting you have heard a million times before, but it still remains way more enjoyable to listen to than to hear over the top angst or metalcore screams getting splashed in your face, ending up as obstacles in the way of the restless-relentless chug-exploitation patterns.

Antagonist is a spin worth checking out, and it seems to be advisable to take just two or three pills at one sitting / rampaging, as the album packs a truly effective explosion when it starts, but, since the whole album is an explosion, you want some flesh to remain on your exoskeleton, so you will have the chance to burn down proper later with the yet again hungry curiosity on board. A decent declaration to the ears, let thy proprietors be made of spirit, flesh, machine - or something : in between.

Rating : 7.0 / 10

If you liked this article, check out my music

and / or

Buy me beer. Read more!

Lamb of God - Ashes of the Wake review

Year : 2004
Genre : Groove Metal
Label : Epic
Origin : United States
Rating : 6.5 / 10

Buy it now

Lamb of God has all the chance in the whole wide world to emerge victorious when the fabric of the Universe organizes the annual Who Has the Most Notable Pantera Influence Embedded in Thy Souls? contest.

There is nothing wrong at all with being influenced by Pantera, a band reigning beyond doubt as one of the most influential forces that, to this day, define the field contemporary metal tends to present itself upon. The only thing you really want to give this Lamb of God - Ashes of the Wake affair a spin for, is the bitter chance you will have at listening how the T-Rex of Pantera sounds with its balls miniaturized. Wait. Are you SURE you want to hear that? Okay, read on then.



Ashes of the Wake, for a start, AND for a precisely aimed conclusion, at least submits to its own aspirations, and delivers the everyday average Pantera cloning as solidly as the band could in 2004. The face of groove metal is not a face that necessarily has to depend on intricacy to sell its raw charisma : it simply needs to depend on the sole weight and/or catch of the groove, and there seems to be a difference between individual grooves with autonomous rhythms being shot at your direction, and grooves that have organic connections and common feelings that they playfully circulate between each other. Lamb of God doubtless knows how to deliver a relatively solid groove, yet their readiness and urge to make the grooves flirt with each other, so you have no chance but to scrutinize their fun closely, sounds to be modest on this 2004 effort.

The sections tend to get thrown away rather easily, without them being given the attention their rhythmic and sonic structures do sound to exhibit. Instead of taking a pattern apart to see what actually is inside, the band hastily brings another build out of thin air. The vocalist sometimes addresses the depths of his Pantera influences by giving away two or three lines in a narrative fashion, as Philip Anselmo likes to do. The vocalist's speaking voice packs way less drama and charisma than Anselmo's, but the he probably has managed to eradicate his own capacity to notice this evident potentiality of reality. Connection between the patterns, sometimes DOES get established on the spin, and those are the moments the LP is at its top form - but these moments are relatively scarce to come by, and the basic character of the spin remains that of a diligent presentation of doubtless muscular groove metal loops the band developed during the production, yet loops that exhibit mild organic connection with any other.

As just hinted above, the LP sounds to have a clumsy tendency of mistaking the abrupt termination of a solid direction for flamboyant variation. The intensity has a hard time reaching moments you must remember or rewind to, - there ARE such moments, though - regardless how the band ventures into metalcore territory on occasions, just to resonate some miserable fake fry screams you can laugh a round male-ass off. The performance of the vocalist is probably the most disappointing contribution of this spin. He sounds to have a rather time, and general wisdom suggests that as soon as it is hard for you, then it will be no fun to you, and probably it won't be fun to listen to, either. The vocalist tries to get the job done, but trying is way less than sufficient when you can subject yourself to legit vocal performances you can hear from number 1 real deal screamers like Pantera's Phil Anselmo or Slipknot's Corey Taylor.

From a musical point of view, - without the vocal contribution, that lacks notable unique character beyond its over-abused aspiration to imitate Anselmo - this is a decently produced, prolonged sequence of quite acceptable Pantera tribute, but, as with most tributes, this one, too, lacks the promise of a chance of approximating its mighty inspirator. In 2004, Lamb of God had no capacity to offer anything else of-, or sufficient enough of what its definer, Pantera delivered as a timeless navigational beacon of metal. Ashes of the Wake is not a bad album, it simply is an effort at cloning its own robust ideal.

Rating : 6.5 / 10

If you liked this article,

check out my music

and / or

Buy me beer. Read more!

Book of Black Earth - The Cold Testament review

Year : 2011
Genre : Black Metal / Death Metal
Label : Prosthetic Records
Origin : United States
Rating : 8.8 / 10

Buy it now

Book of Black Earth brings you a hybrid that has nothing to worry about its own capacity to live, regardless how it is composed of two extreme subgenres of violent guitar molestation. This American formation delivers soberly controlled, nevertheless furious death metal by utilizing the tools of black metal, spouting a well placed tribute or two towards classic punk vibes here and there.

The Cold Testament is an LP with tremendous power and charm behind the snarl it stands for at heart, and also one that does not sacrifice its own efficiency for misplaced sentiments towards bloated aspirations. With its 36 minutes, The Cold Testament gives you this exact amount of time you will spend with the demonic hound on the cover, making sure that these 36 minutes will be channeled through an evident intent of beating your psyche to an embarrassing pile of spirit pulp. And beyond.



The relatively short spin time of this noise device is a beneficial trade for the special kind of character this album represents, considering how its fabric seems to follow the unspoken rules of an exploitation movie. The Cold Testament LP runs around with its ass on constant fire, with a crazy mojo in its eyes telling about a not-so secretive hope of how this fire might be contagious upon (ear) contact.

The compositions are mature, well structured, and extremely well controlled, reigning in constant success at rendering a full speed truck with no driver in your vicinity. It is a form of organized sonic massacre, one though that is free of the everyday average cheap magic tricks or obtrusive elements to crave easily harvested musical appreciation. Instead, everything does what it does best on high octane efficiency. The guitar work succeeds masterfully at picking-packing the proper menace while remaining genuinely playful and elegant, whereas the drums bitchslap it at will, just to chase it around on top of - and this IS something - meaningful blast beats.

Blast beats, paradoxically enough, are prone to be abused beyond common sense, as the restlessness they express is an emotional register on its own, and many do seem to satisfy with the act of throwing in relatively irrelevant riffage in the background, hoping that the intensity of the blast beat itself will sell the attraction out, no problem. Book of Black Earth, fortunately enough, takes its vision of constant focus seriously, rendering legit riff on top of legit riff without end, recruiting the mere possibility to deliver rhythmic variations and dynamic shifts as the invaluable tool of tasteful flamboyancy. Sounds logical enough? It indeed does, during the spin of this angry affair. It is clear that The Cold Testament has a whole lot of serious and devoted work behind its, and, as hinted, it does not commit the mistake of offering anything else or less than a fabric of elaborate musical sequences sewn of diligent, mature compositional efforts.

The LP shows a furious face initially, and decides to keep the grin intact along the way. There is a whole lot going on in these action packed tracks, flirting with various prime aspects of the genres they seek to skillfully compliment. The layered tremolo riffing to invite the flamethrower feel of black metal is as present and ready to be unleashed as is the twin guitar pair to smash through you with the intricacy of technical death metal. The Cold Testament has the quite welcomed tendency to offer its inventions in multiple forms, and, as such, you will witness the actual riff in different form and shape on the left and right channels.

As for the vocal performance, melody is not particularly present, and here is why : it simply did not get the fucking invitation card. Good old fashioned chest scream is the name of the game here, that reigns totally and completely free of the over-emoted, somewhat laughable, but certainly miserable direction of other-, vaguely related genres. The Cold Testament is a hell hound weighing around 667 pounds, eager to sit on your chest and demand an honest reaction from you. One thing is for sure : you WILL give yours, after it gave you the thorough stare it is most certainly capable of giving.

Rating : 8.8 / 10

If you liked this article, check out my music

and / or

Buy me beer. Read more!

Uncle Acid & the deadbeats - Blood Lust review

Year : 2011
Genre : Doom Metal / Blues Rock
Label : Independent
Origin : UK
Rating : 8.2 / 10

Buy it now

Uncle Acid & the deadbeats invite you on a ride that does not come with a safety guarantee, as their latest to date audible contribution is a lush, tastily, lively realized tribute to the mere retro charm you could harvest during the restless sitting time of a z-grade exploitation horror / thriller made in the '70s.

Blood Lust is a pretty easily and gratefully approachable project at heart, as it is one that finds elegant reason behind its existence simply by the act of kissing the lips of its own aspirations, and not stopping until there is at least a drop of blood involved. Can't say do not be afraid : be afraid, because Blood Lust wants your soul, and for it, it will cut you down. (As a start.)



Uncle Acid & the deadbeats introduce a central vibe that is the devoted lover, hell, even the devoted sex slave of two primal styles. Imagine a mixture of the ancient, lazily yet dangerously energized dooming of Black Sabbath, combined with the feminine kind of coolness/restlessness declared by the Bee Gees. These nine tracks reek the manic-, and, as such, proper kind of love towards the aforementioned inspirators, yet it remains safe to say that the Black Sabbath vibe-language reigns as the LP's primal intent, while the high pitched head voice singing, that which still keeps dignity and packs the menacing factor no problem, summons and establishes a truly powerful, tasty combination with the instruments being in proper, playful, constant doom in the background.

Wait.

Constant doom is not doom at all.
Or is that the only kind of doom?

Some think - I try to avoid the "I", and I fail - Doom is sexiest when it comes with an urge, and it gets more and more miserable when it scrutinizes its own image. Luckily enough, Blood Lust seems to share this approach for dooming around, as the LP never loses a simple, yet proper kind of drive to express its vile and hateful intentions.

The production is flawless both for what it wants to do, and even when considered as something on its own : a homage to the horroristic side of the entertainment industry of the '70s, and a delivery that has intimate affliction and intimate affection for the dangerous, for the lethal aspects of the era. The sound, of course, is not free of elegant (!!) mud, but it IS free of the will of trying to conceal it. As hinted, a nice kind of mud it is anyway, one that adds a special, cold hearted warmness and intimacy to the experience. The mud this project simply could not work out well without. Blood Lust is a sexy, violent, restless contribution with its focus being placed on the various ways and methods retro doom could affect you by, pointing out the staggeringly obvious : retro doom does not need to "try" to make your soul react - it simply needs the volume, and you will have no choice, but to submit.

Rating : 8.2 / 10

If you liked this article, check out my music

and / or

Buy me beer. Read more!

Frozen Ocean - Vestigial Existence review

Year : 2011
Genre : Black Metal
Label : Nihil Art Records
Origin : Russia
Rating : 7.3 / 10

Vestigial Existence does a diligent, acceptable job at rendering a clear picture of the ancient soul-dirt black metal seems to devotedly fixate itself upon. On paper, Frozen Ocean brings you this blackened kind of metal soaked into flammable fluids of atmospheric punishment.

On the disc, and, in reality though, this is a pretty traditional and archetypical - in the good sense of the term - black metal outing, and the only atmospheric traits it has are the opening track and some flute playing, being introduced at the latter portion of the affair. The choosing of the words is not accidental, as the flute playing herein does not ever pass through the "some flute playing" mark, indeed. Not on this record, which, nevertheless, has some very favorable offerings to entertain your ears and moods with. Read on to find out more about those.



With Vestigial Existence, Frozen Ocean addresses its thorough understanding of the genre's favorite modes of vibe invitation without any particular and/or obtrusive intention to add anything alien or new to those. The main factor herein is a pronounced, super-thick stringed section, that has not much if anything to worry if the drums have less of a presence : the percussion indeed lacks the extreme punch, but it delivers the luscious pulse with convince power and without doubt, and this exactly what the idea is.

In its character, monumental the stringed section may be, yet it does not overkill. As result of solid, sober production work, each stringed sonic cannon has its respective place and field of operation in the mix it can spout its sentiments in, while the fields themselves have a modest, nevertheless doubtlessly existent tendency to create interesting patterns of co-existent sound entities. More often than above or below it, Vestigial Existence delivers acceptably in this regard, giving you a rather efficient starting section, smuggling / hiding the tracks with relatively less efficient sections or twisted beauty in them with a good sense of balance as far as the time they are worth entertaining for.

One of the most impressive additions this album can proudly call its own, is the performance of the vocalist AND the production team, as it sounds like that the vocals are coming from beyond a huge metal door, and you do not want to confront the dude on the other side - if a dude he is, at all. He constantly reigns at the verge of losing it totally and completely, wielding an omni-present and authentic rasp to unleash declarations from an utterly, trustily disillusioned stance of contemplation with.

The compositions vary between relatively slow and medium tempo builds, this time around giving a gloomily suggested middle finger to evident intensity. The relative calmness of the spin does not take away from the quality at all, quite the contrary : it is nice to see and hear an album that dares to choose and maintain a central mood register, as each track is a variation on a similar feel, inviting a sense of coherence - that came out kind of weird - to coat the affair in.

Apart from the flutes, that have nothing else to do than to address their mere presence from time to time, and some tame sections of gloom here and there that crave cheap appreciation just to fail at it masterfully, Vestigial Existence comes to you and remains a spin you can safely hop on if you want to subject yourself to black metal done diligently and traditionally.

Rating : 7.3 / 10

If you liked this article, check out my music

and / or

Buy me beer. Read more!

Induxion Mental - Arruinados En Veneno review

Year : 2011
Genre : Thrash Metal
Label : Independent
Origin : Argentina
Rating : 9.0 / 10

With Arruinados En Veneno, Argentinian thrasher-trio Induxion Mental brings you the timeless freshness of old school thrash metal with a contemporary, genuine passion behind the intention to do so. Thrash does not seem to be one of the sub-genres of metal that needs to be colored and / or refined, as the style already reigns in the position of being able to incorporate all notable elements of efficient sonic soul harassment that you could summon out of a drum, a pair of guitars, a bass and some nearby throats ready to address some long-term frustration(s) that come(s) to mind.

These elements are numerous, as are the charms of old school thrash metal. Behind these charms-, and, at the very center of them, lies and commands the Riff, the mere entity that separates a waste of thrash - sorry about that - from a declaration that has the fruitful capacity to live and breath through the Riff, casually thrashing stuff while encountering it.



Induxion Mental's latest to date spin is an efficiently realized tribute to the timeless freshness of old school thrash : the compositions are solid, with the ever-present urge and related intent to keep and offer rhythmic variations around, yet the convoluted complexity of the builds wisely stays away from particularly notable or relevant extremities, concentrating instead on approaching the classic thrashing feel as efficiently as possible right from the beginning, while the band's inner clock of musical awareness has a quite optimal calibration on how to-, and where to go from a particular space in the musical fabric they create at any given moment.

The production is a well researched and quite skillfully engineered mixture of a set of pivotal attributes that give you the feel of this record : at its core, this mix is rasp, wild and nihilistic, and still it has the capacity and related sobriety to recognize how it would be crushed under its own weight if to address its own elements too aggressively : the drums and guitars - bass included - go for a classic thrash sound instead, without any desire satisfied or suggested to mount further elements on the tank that already is thrashing efficiently, thank you, come again.

From a vocal point of pronounced misery contribution, Induxion Mental brings forth a rather efficient and acceptable method : the singer picks up his favorite solo musical note of doubt and rage at the very beginning of the affair, and delivers his lamentations on that particular pitch, maybe hitting the upper and lower neighbors on a few occasions. This vocal approach is not at all one without its autonomous charms, and, strangely enough, a twisted kind of beauty : the singer can kickstart a wide variety of properly animalistic screams and related vocal sounds from the comfort zone of his favorite vocal region. It is audible that he has solid intent and great comfort to transmit energy, and also a wide variety of ideas on how to convince you about that.

One could stop for a minute and ponder how to attempt to recruit words to transmit the intensity of what thrash wants to communicate, but it is so much efficient when it hits you, instead. Fueled by a genuine love for-, and a well positioned understanding of the style, Arruinados En Veneno is a thrash output that you rather want to be thrashed away by, as opposed of missing out on it entirely.

Rating : 9.0 / 10

If you liked this article, check out my music

and / or

Buy me beer. Read more!

Consfearacy - Consfearacy review

Year : 2011
Genre : Thrash / Power / Groove
Label : Independent
Origin : United States / Germany
Rating : 8.6 / 10

Buy it now

Consfearacy's self titled affair spins for 42 energized minutes of continuous and rather inventive attempts at blending the trademark traits of various metallic sub-genres into colorful autonomous declarations, each sticking though to a cleverly raw and muscular character the album cultivates as a prime direction to project itself as.

By giving you the palpable basic sensation of thrash metal utterly failing to give a shit about what you think or do not think of it, Consfearacy utilizes this commanding feeling to pull playfulness and groove out of its rabid body from time to time, just to hide all the pleasantries and unleash the intense nihil - aua - of thrash once again in the next bar.



The 10 tracks have a pair of common denominators they secretly and soothingly assuage in the background without a stop : Consfearacy, first of all, is not at all afraid to unleash an output that simply has no concept of subtraction from intensity. Everything here is happening for a wide, thick, weighty experience, one which though never quite crosses the border of death metal type musical brutality that may exhibit the tendency of being a bit hard to approach towards.

Consfearacy delivers compositions with rock-solid ideas behind them, each realized with raw, nevertheless carefully sculpted and highly efficient musical musculature. Addressing these attributes in a clear and easily decipherable fashion is a focal method of how this album throws its fingers towards the throat of your propensity to appreciate.

The last track on the spin, "You're dead to me" is a fine example of the dormant workings herein : while the anatomical structure of the background compliments the mere power of the chug during the chorus, the vocal melody mounts true catch and elegance on top of the monster, addressing even the "our hair against the wind" power metal vibe for a tint of a second. And not for a tad more, and that is why the moment in question seems and sounds to be a great one.

The LP, while brings forth a keen readiness to engage the thrash metal cannon, also keeps an eye and an ear out for lush compositional routes to take, systematically and luckily arriving at choruses and interludes that speak a non-theatrical, pretty much unorthodox and wild power metal register, one which refrains from giving the traditional nod for the so easily abusable pathos, and, instead, expresses its endless affection towards the mere catch and weight of the groove.

This is a furious, superbly controlled and elegantly presented album with meticulous production work, making use of a wisely limited selection of sonic war-wielders. Consfearacy's musicians had zero doubt about what they wanted to do with this spin, and what they wanted to stay safely away from. These clear intentions are flattered further by the audible results they have produced. Consfearacy's latest to date confronts your musical awareness with an album that manages to reign strongly throughout tasteful tints of great variation, maintaining this great attribute not by trying to do so, but, simply by doing so, instead.

Rating : 8.6 / 10

If you liked this article, check out my music

and / or

Buy me beer. Read more!

Unexpect - Fables of the Sleepless Empire review

Year : 2011
Genre : Experimental / Progressive
Label : Ascendance Redords
Origin : Canada
Rating : 9.3 / 10

Buy it now

Canadian six pack Unexpect smashes your definition of a term that already is long dead with a smile - the definition being : "epic" - via a declaration that has no other or any less of an agenda than to assault your musical awareness with constant focus being applied to the primal attribute of this LP : it does takes its listener, itself, and its own agenda to excellently entertain, sublimely serious.

Unexpect has pretty much zero regard or interest towards such orthodox elements of music as repetition and easily identifiable sonic structure. The name of the game herein indeed is the endless search for-, and the triumphant realization of the unexpected, now being brought to you via such a solid level of convince power that you will hardly have any chance to subject yourself to this outing and remain faithful to the original mood you got into it with.

Unless : you already are mindfucked, of course.



Fables of the Sleepless Empire is both a grandiose tribute and a rampant variation towards/on pretty much all genres of music that have even a slight bit of interest in-, or an intimate relation regarding any level or form of sonic intensity. Calling this record an everyday average experimental project would be a waste of even an inept attempt to approach it for what it is and aspires to be : Unexpect's latest to date is a thorough, funnily demanding and immensely complex journey along a wide variety palette of archetpyical musical traits taken to their respective extremes via masterfully controlled intent. Intent, sticking to the position of being in constant, hilarious and shameless flirt with chaos and the mere charm of randomness. This ability of mimicking the beauty of randomness with an agenda to convince it to draw sonic patterns of integrity, is one of the steepest challenges of sound, and also a triumphantly realized one on this record.

Fables of the Sleepless Empire throws absolutely anything at you at any given time if and when it finds it as an acceptable plan to mock your awareness in a way you will have no chance to protest against. While the central intent behind the outing undoubtedly is to go for the sonic boom and project light on its surface to reveal vibrant colors of fluctuant complexity, the mere unleashment herein speaks a rhythmic and tonal language akin to that of intricate breaks and grooves, having little if any regard towards dry discipline and easily identifiable, instant musical functions.

The long-term and necessarily gorgeous ultimate function of delivering entertainment for the mere sake of it, is profoundly rendered and thoroughly worshiped - oxymoron? - simply by hiding the dormant, respective workings of any given musical function into these chaotic coats, behind these superbly constructed musical masks of myriad timbers and countless moods, invented to flatter and praise the aforementioned underlying, ultimate function they serve as valiant and vigilant ornaments for.

As noted, the record is intense for the most, spends its time with funnily presented gloom on a couple of occasions, and signs and respects its ever-present quest to address how it would - and how it DOES - sound if you would unleash the extremities of metal, ignited on classical music as fuel in its tank.

The cleverly offered moments by which you will find yourself to be subjected to a less pronounced nearness of the fair-enough-fractal-soundstorm, have a tendency to invoke playfully presented drama along a register that seems to reach for the promise of fairy tale gloom and related silent (sic!) suffering, only to kick it in the butt when the touch is about to be realized.

Production-wise, Fables of the Sleepless Empire serves as a primal source and testament on how meticulous attention to detail may draw extremely "crowded" - by notes and sounds - musical spaces without harming any participating sounds, or the mere fabric they express their existence in. In other words, the production is flawless on this one, and probably one of the most dense and most complex you have ever heard so far, this seems almost safe to be guaranteed.

Fables of the Sleepless Empire packs and stacks the skills to throw around your emotions as efficiently as it does the same thing with your awareness levels, having the ability of touching you at places you never knew you had, this being a rather pleasant extra co-incident.

Rating : 9.3 / 10

If you liked this article, check out my music

and / or

Buy me beer. Read more!