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Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Solsikk - Solsikk review

Year : 2011
Genre : Groove Metal
Label : Femme Metal Records
Origin : UK
Rating : 9.0 / 10

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Solsikk brings you hyper-complex groove metal with a chick on top who has a tremendous amount of a certain influence going on. In fact, the whole function of Solsikk's female fronter seems to be a continuous attempt at mimicking the vocal style and deeply emotive allures of one particular artist. That artist is none other than the - utterly and completely - female fronter of industrial psyche observation unit Kidney Thieves.

Here is the thing : whenever it is possible, - and it always IS - I close out the "I" from a review, because a review should gravitate towards notions, percepts and mental constructs solely relating to its effective subject matter, and the "I" is not important, only the experience that ensued in the "I" is important and deemed as deliverable. But now I apply a short pause on this behavior, the gesture being a necessity to tell you about Kidney Thieves from my current perspective.

A relatively - and frankly, perplexingly - little known band, Kidney Thieves first hit me while I was playing the video game Deus Ex - Invisible Wars and there was this insanely elegant, and, at the same time, insanely rabid music playing in a bar that was modeled in the gameworld. A woman was singing on top of raging industrial guitar music, and her voice touched me at parts I did not know I have. I immediately searched for intel on which band that might be, and that is how I became aware of the oh!, so fruity existence of the band Kidney Thieves.

Kidney Thieves have put out top of the heat sci-fi music all the way back from 1998 that to this very day sounds and registers galaxies more relevant than your everyday average row of current random metalcore monkeys can ever HOPE to fail to dream of in their current miserable spiritual state. In other words : Kidney Thieves kicks tremendous monolith butt, their fronter is a spectacular human specimen, and sure, this here indeed is a review of Solsikk's self titled debut, a debut that REEKS the influence of Kidney Thieves. That is not a bad thing at all, at all. That is a good thing. Suggestion : first check out the female fronter of Kidney Thieves, Free Dominguez, via inspecting this video of a high quality unplugged studio performance. Then read on to be confronted with a deep analysis of Solsikk's self titled debut.



This is a full chrome musculature release that has a huge amount of love and the supremely admirable intent to seriously entertain incorporated in it. You are not taken for a fool here at all, because groove metal music gets the holy shit - and everything else, for that matter - played properly out of it on this spin, and, as such, the revealed and delivered complexity/efficiency of the effort reigns far beyond criticism. Here is why : the music on Solsikk's debut is not only complex, but it also packs legit power all the way through. Top tier, rampant riffage, manic drum work, a true feast even for the most snob pairs of ears.

The release has the super-rare ability to unravel the beauty of "organized randomness", so to speak, since everything you hear exhibits a very finely constructed balance between the formless, limitless potentiality of chaos and the expressed intent that declares a glorious path to thread diligently along, never disrespecting the potentiality of rabid chaos it actually is threading in, it actually is drawing patters in-, drawing patterns from. Regardless of the genre, this clearly is the most demanding kind of music to construct, and here is why : because, to put it as simply as it is humanly possible, it takes fucking WORK to realize. You can not employ shortcuts and other similar tricks to come up with presentable results while on this agenda of contributing music that exhibits this commanding level of complexity and legitimacy. You need to worship the mere nature of rhythm, pitch, dynamics and similar entities to be able to come up with something that compares to the delicate sonic data contained on this exquisite release.

Solsikk's debut is one superbly fresh and brisk delivery, giving you 42 minutes of top quality audible intricacy to immerse yourself in. The compositions are exceptionally efficient in the regard that they are totally free of a need to relate to a certain comfort zone, they instead declare their indisputable right to exist by raw sonic willpower, and this also is something you can not mimic if the consorting, true awareness of the musical field you want to channel from is off limits to your current musical intent. This album is formed of very luscious and well defined intents, about that, you can - paradoxically enough - have your zero doubts in a comfy manner.

The only reason the album does not shatter into the well-above-9 category on this here music review website Noise Shaft, is the vocal contribution of the female fronter of the band. She is a Free Dominguez wannabe, and not herself, not on this release. She is decent. But far from great. Her simulated "I just had my 123rd nervous breakdown and you're about to be my painkiller, baaaabbbybear" stance wears out twice as quickly as you hope it would, her bluesy rasp is simply artificial and is subject to constant abuse, and her pipes simply lack the emotive power and crystal clear rendition of female fragility/female strength so evident in the voice of Free Dominguez. She does not sound to be coming from the heart, she sounds to be coming from the agenda of mimicking Free Dominguez at all costs. I - oops, I did it again - do not think that it is impossible to mimic the style of Free Dominguez efficiently, but, to accomplish that, that female performer definitely has to have this fragile, tender vibe in her voice along with the Animal, Rampant. Free Dominguez packs both the damsel in distress and the vamp. The fronter of Solsikk, on the contrary, packs both the desire to pack the damsel in distress and the desire to pack the vamp. Hell, that IS a start.

One simply can not spiritually afford to end this review on a lower note than almost unalloyed praise though, because Solsikk's debut is certainly one of the most pleasant surprises this current year has brought to us so far. In fact, it is entirely possible that the fronter will be able to cultivate that extra "it" factor into her voice later on. If you see her with that cleaver asking for me, please tell her that the ideal hitman is on my lousy ass already.

Rating : 9.0 / 10 If you liked this article, check out my music

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Monday, August 29, 2011

The Dive - The Dive review

Year : 2011
Genre : Psychedelic Stoner Rock
Label : Independent
Origin : Greece
Rating : 8.0 / 10

Greek formation The Dive delivers a self titled monster length that reeks the rampant affection for all things rooted in 69. Give me Woodstock, give me fractal patterns, give me Timothy Leary on a pointlessly large projection device and let's hear how he summarizes and deciphers the reality flow.

The Dive brings you the music that originates from the same character as the music of Jimmy Hendrix is originating from, yet this band shows considerable attentiveness towards the parts of you that are more fond of zoned out/zoned in consciousness exploration, resulting in an aural data flow that has a ripe, peaceful and chilling demeanor as its ultimate face. This does not at all mean that The Dive refrains from assaulting the strings and drums nice and proper on occasions. Intensity IS part of the flow here, yet this intensity is a calm one, too. It addresses the qualities of a raging gas giant, but - fortunately - never the qualities of an incoming cosmic body with mind parasites on board. The Dive utilizes a very elegant and merciful method to create efficient patterns at will that do bring mere time to a still, and they always release you, the listener back into time - fuck - in a sane way. This is successful still music, because it - fortunately enough - wants to be that. Read on to find out more about its main operations, or Plan 9 from Outer Place will commence. It is an actual song title from the record by the way, and also is a retro science fiction film the creators of the record likely dare you to seek for.



The Dive offers a very clever method to zone the listener out, regardless of consent. The basis of the revealed sonic fabrics tend to sound like an efficient start sequence of a more freely positioned riff to ensue, yet, instead of forcing your awareness to catch up to what it thought it will need to catch up to, it gets the mercy, because this "start grid" restarts, and your awareness is sitting in it once again, yet the surroundings - along with the experience - have been adjusted, and you are defined as the enjoyer before you even know it. This technique of expressing the actual statements on top of self-repeating sonic entities of simplistic but legitimate beauty, is key element on this record. The Dive, thank the cosmos for that, not once - nor more times, smartyfartsy - commits the act of self indulgent behavior, and a variation or a sane derivation from the original pattern always reigns stationary nearby, stirring the flux in a gentle-, or, sometimes, in a more pronounced manner from time to time.

The record shows a peaceful and LIVELY face, which is especially interesting to watch, considering the sound character of the release. The roar of the band does sound like that of a good old "let's shatter this puny soul to microshards" doom metal squad, but they choose to articulate majestic statements, instead of formulating the guaranteed promise of impending doom. Even when The Dive gets angry, it is evident that it is just for the fun. You are witnessing a giant entertaining you and itself, and it does not want to harm anything, though it could crush everything it chooses to. But it chooses NOT to, and this is one of the most relevant beauty factors of the record. Funnily enough, the basic vibe this release communicates along, shows similarities with Yob's Atma, but, while the doom metal formation concentrates on the negativistic potentialities of the experience flow, The Dive threads along the neutral and positive interpretation fields, but a very important clarification needs to be made. The Dive is not at all a sonic rendition of an escapist point of view into a reality that serves anything and everything you need to feel yourself comfy in. No. Yob and The Dive and the listener are all aboard the same spaceship into a - uuuuh - mystery, but the Yob dudes anticipate a shitstorm - if anything - to follow up, - and suggest that a proper living being opens its mouth in it - while The Dive dudes anticipate anything else to follow up. Each is a legitimate stance. You, as the listener, either need to take a position yourself, or you can refrain from it, and rightfully so, once you make sure you are the one who missed the spaceship.

Rating : 8.0 / 10

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Monday, August 22, 2011

Ilium - Genetic Memory review

Year : 2011
Genre : Power Metal
Label : Escape
Origin : Australia
Rating : 7.5 / 10

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Australian Ilium is the power metal band that has the uppermost level of unconditional love - if there ARE levels at all for such a thing - cultivated for All Things Power Chord, but the band also brings awareness regarding the period of time a sequence of comfy harmonic chugging is worth abusing for. Ilium's Genetic Memory is the kind of nicely varied-, at heart deeply and elegantly traditional power metal with the dare and desire to wander around among epic determination and dramatic gloom, pretty much like a pinball collapses into different elements of notable character during a pinball session.

The most pronounced vibe this delivery communicates along, is a direction that keeps its eyes on the mistress of fantasy related power metal, but also caresses the knee of an almost-out-of-battery fembot under the table. The story of the eyes are more relevant this time around though. As usual. Read on to - well - read more on this decent spin, and, to know if the mistress of fantasy related power metal is aware of the fembot's knee being caressed under the table.



Ilium delivers the '80s visceral approach of doom and pathos presented in high definition, increasing its sheer enjoyability by disassembling it by just the right moments. The ensuing pattern is most often characterized by a pleasant modulation shift and a riff to ride on it, and this inventiveness is JUST enough - and also IS required - so the re-occurrence of classic dooming and pathosing truly has the potential to show their duo around with proper efficiency upon comeback. Interestingly enough, at the first spin of this delivery you might arrive at the thought that the band sounds to be perfectly content with throwing simplistic power chord arrangements around, but right when you are about to put your very best snob face on, elaborate stimuli is about to dock into the fabric, ripping the promise of your very best snob face off.

Genetic Memory is an interesting construct in this particular regard. As hinted, Ilium does not feel embarrassed about declaring super-orthodox, stone-traditional power metal chord passages, because they are aware how they - the band - will emerge with a more relevant auditory construct right when you are about to think that you have heard all in the track that is there to be heard. There is a consorting truth to be told, and this truth is that there are minor - and only minor - inconsistencies in the modulation shifts. In other words : some are cheap and shit. But the majority is truly nicely done. A similar thing can be told about the tracks themselves, as compositional constructs. They, for the most part, after assuring you that they are in love with the power chord, are able to bring you the supremely shaped Iron Maiden in a human sized gift package, and a keen intent to go for the easily accessible, yet cutely overcheesy '80s sci-fi anime vibe always reigns readied in their fabric.

The vocalist dude refrains from imitating Bruce Dickinson's mighty siren pipes, and goes instead for the Melodic Raw Animal register of Argus' Butch Balich - in theory. In reality, not many are in the position to sport throat pipes priceless enough to approximate that of Butch Balich's, and, as such, Ilium's singer sounds to be close to desperation mode amidst the waves Butch Balich is ruthlessly riding on as a Sonic God that just popped into existence, declaring the Lungs of Aural Overpower that can shatter neighboring icebergs at will. Ilium's vocalist gives a performance that is decent and whatnot, it is just that it fails to add anything - sorry about using this overused word - "special" on top of the music, though it can be done, because Butch Balich can do it.

Ilium's Genetic War is a delivery born out of pure love for the genre, also a love that sounds to be felt properly and honestly. The album, fortunately enough, does not show itself to be prone to exhibit all that much filler sections, and two and a half hand is more than enough to count elements that would have looked better on the cutting floor of the studio. A nicely done album, expressing its HD love for the cheesy pathos of the '80s.

Rating : 7.5 / 10

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Monday, August 15, 2011

Deceased - Surreal Overdose review

Year : 2011
Genre : Thrash Death Hybrid
Label : PATAC Records
Origin : United States
Rating : 9.5 / 10

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If there is one singular aspect to extreme metal that can not be mimicked without the attempt at trickery becoming obvious, it is authenticity. Veteran stillness eradication squad Deceased brings to you such level of authentically, inventively and relentlessly berserk style of sonic nuke parade that the resultant stimuli reigns way beyond the harshly limited capacity of the tools calibrated to deliver an even remotely rational and/or necessary criticism. Here is the thing : you WANT to hear this, or you really DON'T want to. There is no need for rationality here, as Deceased's Surreal Overdose employs both the masterfully operated will and skill to make the music roar in oh!, so many flamboyant and so effective ways, serving a - well - overdose of irresistible and surprising compliments directed towards the infinite faces of delicately complex-, yet, at the same time, truly manic and berserk level thrashing.

Good news galore! Deceased's fatigueless carnage mode, contrary to what you may frequently hear in the - logically enough - respective performances of other bands, has a clear agenda and the consorting musical shape for it all the time. A constant sense of larger than life, rational and smart rabidness AND a commitment to keep to it is superbly revealed, a key element that elevates this declaration to the top of the heat simply by the size and the sharpness of the teeth it chases your ass with. It seems safe to say that the intricately stacked, luscious silence massacre contained on this spin has all the bearings of an immediate benchmark, simply because this release does not try to be a supremely badass thrash/death album. Instead, it "simply" shatters your definition of the aforementioned terms via thrusting you proper into the nearest possible wall, keeping you from falling to the floor, courtesy of the incoming sonic mayhem roaring into your face. Read on to find out more about the feel of this exquisite contribution.


The absolute least you can say about Surreal Overdose is that it is an exceptionally special and serious delivery, because the music contained on it, simply does not do the regular extreme - ouch - things you are accustomed to hear. Deceased does not bow down to anything, not for the groove, not for the riff, not for the noise, not for any comfortably identifiable patterns. Music itself gets brutally abused herein via getting constantly executed and revived, just to be executed again in another hilarious manner, but hell, let me tell you that music has a whoooole lot of fun in this process. Rare are the times when you are subjected to sonic data that deliberately exiles the timelessly traditional elements of music, - including in this class the extremities of it - AND still emerges as something deeply significant and exquisitely special, nevertheless. It is easy to generate at heart pointless fusions of autonomous sonic entities and be relatively delighted about the necessary legitimacy of the emerging pattern, but Deceased truly worships and rapes the soul of extreme music, and not for a single second it takes a compromise with anything you might be accustomed to hear that supposed to be : "extreme".

As noted, these musicians think and operate way beyond the categories of riffs and grooves and noise-rampant, and they are seeking for the Source of grooves and riffs and the extreme instead. They are projecting magnificent lights on the surface of this vast Source, going for the touch upon all the rabid interceptions of locations and patterns of interest the record itself is a robust testament of. The Source of the extreme itself is touched upon by the spin, and it sounds to be rather happy about it.

This beyond all sane and insane doubts is an immediate masterpiece that brings with itself that extremely rare capacity to ruthlessly find-, touch-, and celebrate the mere meaning of extreme music, as opposed of addressing its skin details without end for the sake of addressing it. Deceased's Surreal Overdose is the record a young thrash band collectively, happily and immediately jumps into a pool of gasoline with an ignited joint in hand for. This is high definition sci-fi music. If you did not catch the drift yet here, then let me give you a final hint on the matter : Deceased's Surreal Overdose is one profoundly magical spin, and you want to hear it. And yes, your neighbor wants to, too.

Rating : 9.5 / 10

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Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Trendkill Method - Affective Arousal review

Year : 2011
Genre : Groove Metal
Label : Sonic Blast Media
Origin : Latvia
Rating : 8.5 / 10

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This Latvian groove metal formation with the name "Trendkill Method" either tries to hide its immense Pantera influence without all that much noticeable avail, or embraces it instead by admitting it in a perplexedly violent and super-submissive fashion. Wait, wait, wait - you don't get it, man! The cover art of this release has a buzzsaw-wrapped female body with an ear as a head, man, surely, I MUST love THIS?!

Granted. Coming to think of it, it really does not matter that much at all, because, apart from the pretty damn close to z-grade exploitation - nevertheless, as noted, also pretty damn efficient - cover art Affective Arousal initially punishes you with, the music of Trendkill Method - regardless of its shape, its orientation and its mass density - kicks your ass to hell and back, and that is sufficient.


Affective Arousal is a record that uses the intrinsic worship of the groove to bring you rampant energies unalloyed, showing zero regard to the recent and - in my opinion - misplaced "tradition" of incorporating melodrama on occasion, so an acceptable pair of grooves could affect you again upon comeback. Once the grooves you offer are great and pack the legit bite, there is little if any need to deliver profound intermissions between them.

The main attraction on Trendkill Method's latest is the vulgar display of love for the rumble, and hell, that is all you want from groove metal at the first place. The primordial factors that give Affective Arousal's rendition of the rumble all the chance in the world to convince you to give a head to bang, are the brute elegance of the grooves, paired up with the rhythmic intricacy they come to thrash you into the wall with. Keen and exigent sense to respect, to summon and to properly worship the infinite faces of the aggressive groove is on constant display here, seeking AND finding the equally infinite faces of the rumble the groove expresses its ultimate nature through. There is no doubt at all that the favorite fixation of the release is the lowest possible note that is producible by the stringed instruments, but one must ask : if it sounds good, then who gives a sear shit if it is?

Structurally, the compositions are consisting of organically connected elements of high octane rampancy, each having their own agenda and rhythmic flavor, yet always keeping their sober touch with the surrounding components to follow them up. Melodic choruses that flatter the feel of stoner rock and well presented metalcore, - aua - are offered, as well. Luckily enough, these choruses tend to manage to entertain the ears with legit musical stimuli, as the singed melodies look pretty muscular on the cleverly structured wall of sound chords that hurry to back those up on these occasions. As such, these melodic sequences do find a way to emerge both as accessible and dignified. Just to give an example : the track called "Reason to hate" has one of the most relevant melodic choruses this release has to state, one that seems to be similar in nature to the chorus of Stone Sour's "Mission Statement". Both of these hooks are great, yet they feed from the same musical scape, a scape not easily expressed if the attempter has zero access to it. Casting an evident light on this scape is a great accomplishment on its own.

Trendkill Method's vocalist surely has the Philip Anselmo going on, yet, this time around, the imitation is acceptable, because the scream register has just the right amount of rawness and presence associated to it, and it sits in the mix in a very well researched place. The aforementioned melodic sequences with clean vocals are equally tight, ultimately. The singer, though clearly lacking the display-worthy animal of a Corey Taylor, does a decent job at delivering the melodies with dignity, humanity and badasness, and it is very respectable that the band decided to refrain from the use of various magical effects to pump up the voice artificially.

Affective Arousal is a delivery even the members of Pantera would probably give the nod on, and this is not something you could frequently say and keep an inner face intact. If you know what is good for your neighbor's spiritual integrity, give this album a spin. And one more. And one more.

Rating : 8.5 / 10

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Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Trivium - In Waves review

Year : 2011
Genre : Metalcore
Label : RoadRunner Records
Origin : United States
Rating : 7.5 / 10

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Metalcore has all the reasons in the whole wide world - and then some more - to show a reminder or two of a set of balls combined with a delicate suggestion of a well tamed layer of beastly chest hair if it wants to ignite an album via its own mechanics and favorite tools. A former metalcore/thrash attraction, Trivium's In Waves marks the group's shift towards pretty much unalloyed metalcore warfare, and now that this recognition is out of your way so it can invade your back and weigh down on you instead, this delivery still should not be dismissed based on negative bias for what it dares and seeks to be.

In Waves is on a constant mission to compliment a kind of moderately, but smartly varied instant-intensity. The tracks surely do bring without exception the everyday average metalcore urge to crave and reek accessibility with a tint of angst-spiced melancholy trustily embedded, yet the premiere benefits of this LP are a ripe sense of balance and the pure musculature musical skill it relentlessly showcases its elements with. The album manages to deliver individual components that paint well defined limbs on a body that is doubtlessly capable to express dignity, despite the ubiquitous presence of a pretty sub-dimensional, and frankly, almost weightless vocal performance. In Waves, while it certainly speaks one language and one language only, speaks that one pretty fluently. Trivium's latest does everything in its power to carve out the realized concept of the so called catchy tune using the premiere tools and various moods of extreme metal, but the question remains if it's sufficient to praise the bitchslap to the face. Read on to find out how this determination works in a practical sense on Trivium's latest spin to date.



Thank Heaven and Hell for the band's compositional techniques and abilities, the one and only essential component-group that separates this spin from the salivated hive subconscious flattered by the genre's less eminent practitioners. As result of taking the trade - and you, with this act -(un)dead serious, Trivium makes sure to not come up with anything that is not worth presenting to a set of legit ears, and only the one who is currently calibrated to hate eternally, reigns as the reflection that is likely to reject the flamboyant, serious fabric this record successfully declares itself as.

The tracks are consisting of smartly varied, organically connected elements that always pack the readiness either to give the vibe to bang the head over, or to invite you to immerse yourself into your favorite secretive frustrations, yet the verses, choruses, breakdowns all tend to have the ability to affect your awareness in a dramatic and much welcomed fashion. Funnily enough, the band ventures unto quite WTF?!-grade death metal territory on occasions, blast beating the remnants of your puny psyche away for half a minute or so. These moments are rare to come by though, and, strangely, this but-a-tint of pronounced death metal presence is absolutely refreshing to see, simply because they are now being partnered up with less aggressive, though not a tad less efficient metal methods.

While the spin is a pretty functional and strong delivery as an instrumental contribution, its decent and relatively rare to find sing-range vocals are heavily afflicted by this terrible metalcore urge to scream away stuff using the "now let's imitate how a half-beheaded bonobo on fire while in a free fall would scream this line" tradition. If metalcorish screaming is still your thing, then you will have a set of whole galaxies to stimulate your most private spaces over, but, if metalcorish screaming is getting tiresome to you, then know that Trivium's In Waves features strong enough of instrumental and compositional content - MUSICAL content - to make this evident flaw of bonobo screaming tolerable. Strangely and luckily enough, this reigns as a solid metalcore output, one that raises the bar of the genre via the act of claiming and refining the dignity of it. Trivium's In Waves is metalcore done seriously, and, as such, you have no other option than to take it serious.

Rating : 7.5 / 10

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