Royal Hunt - Show Me How To Live review

Year : 2011
Genre : Progressive Metal Hard Rock
Label : Frontiers Records
Origin : Denmark
Rating : 9.2 / 10

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Denmark's Royal Hunt delivers its eleventh studio album to date. This band has been around since the late '90s, experiencing great success in Japan and Europe, primarily. The album marks the return of American lead vocalist D. C. Cooper who has been absent from the lineup for 13 years, while the band also claims that this particular release represents a conscious return to the "classic Royal Hunt sound".

The record starts out with an atmospheric fantasy battlefield ambient section drowning into a programmed pinball machine orchestra, and, when the actual music starts, the primer agenda emerges in great haste to outline its ambitious silhouettes. Luckily, as the rigorously tamed guitars join into the fray, the monumental pinball synths immediately gain a much more stable and relevant function of absorbing a healthy amount of the bare grit of the guitars, claiming the right to go with their new found partner to wherever they want to. The spin utilizes these hugely bloated synths with great keenness and inventive tendencies, and their beaten-but-not-defeated timber gives and gains all kinds of justices to-, and from the guitars that the band consciously collides them with. Their volumetric presence is so prominent in the mix that they emerge as equals to the guitars and claim focal role amidst the heft-related tools the record has at its disposal.

The resultant-, global character of the sound incorporates a special kind of Bertold Brechtian cartoon-gloom and a funny sense of self-parodistic hopelessness that did not yet decide to end its own suffering or laugh out loud at it instead, combined with a toy-classicism that seeks to emerge as utterly determined through the synthetizers, and I feel it is great fun even when it manages to do that, as well as when it is becoming an intentional parody of itself, because this always happens in a hilarious fashion. Thank God and Co., the record takes itself mad serious and looks more and more good while doing that, so, as the spin progresses, its relentlessness at INSISTING becomes especially likable. Read on to find out more about this sexy release.


As it quickly becomes evident, Royal Hunt has a superb sense for delivering legit, full musculature choruses. The way they sing "One! More! Daaaaaaaay!" in the opening track on top of a gently varied power chord, simply rules you and me and that guy and that, too, and invites the oh!, so delicious Abba metal to mind. As the LP progresses, it turns out that what you are getting is similar in its instinctive nature to an Yngwie Malmsteen album, but this similarity mainly boils down to a mutual tendency of relying on elegant, at heart simplistic classical compositional techniques. The solo releases of original neoclassical hypershredder Yngwie Malmsteen seek to bulldozer you proper into the wall like a Taurus demon who does not love you, while this particular release is not afraid to attempt to entertain with a tamer-, but similarly bombastic and unusual sound in nature. This special sonic alloy is the result of a combination of super-prominent, fluid synth-anatomy and the aggressive guitar work. If you give the ear thoroughly, you can hear how the guitars and the synths are playing different riffs that are flirting with each other, while both instruments are enjoying full administrative rights in the mere character of the sonic rhythm section.

After a tight opening track with a brilliant chorus, I personally feel that the second installment, "Another Man Down", while acceptable, does not pack the same high octane efficiency its direct predecessor spills on you. Consecutive track, "An Empty Shell" starts out as a rabid cinematic score that had enough of its own character and related limits and decided to go me(n)tal. A thrilling, relevant musical experience. A lush, wide, strong instrumental background compliments a verse structure that comes to you right from a particularly disturbing Tim Burton movie, then a strong pre-section of discomforting anticipation and unfolding drama reveals lurking hell that decides to break lose instead and simply does not capitulate until its flames managed to lick off all threads of hairs from your body. The track has a notable tendency to throw in truly impressive instrumental interludes with avid solo riposts traded between synth and solo guitar, and the fact that the performers do not venture into wankfest territory, appeals to the overall experience in extremely convincing fashion. Another superb track.

"Hard Rain's Coming" starts out with an Abba intro, and continues to thread along that superb direction. I especially like D. C. Cooper's content "ha! haaa!" at 0:41, with which he acknowledges the epic belt he just started off the fabric of the song with. This one is a mid-tempo metal ballad with a tremendous rumble and a flamboyant flow, and the chorus finds a way to go Abba instead going for the communist marching song mood, producing another home run. A decent guitar solo also is thrown into the fray to ride on top of phrygian chord structures - yes, I'm a fucking snob - that will make you sit on the edge of your seat if you are not banging your head(s) yet. (Have to be PC with the mutants, too.)

"Half Past Loneliness" is a definite highlight for me, this is what I call a kickass chorus, bitches! The chorus has the 101% Abba going on with a pop metal vibe that reeks irresistible sex appeal all the way through, especially with the backing vocals. My mom heard the song and immediately wanted it on her mp3 player, and expressed on-spot fandomism towards the creators. Pure late '70s brilliant vintage power-pop mounted on a relentless metal wartank, and I like it tremendously, and I think you need to check it out, too. The other part I consider pretty strong on the delivery, is the instrumental section of titular delivery "Show Me How To Live", as the Bertold Brechtian cartoon gloom and the Abba-like pop-determination masterfully clicks together herein.

This release is ripe and sexy all the way through, and has no weaknesses worth pointing a finger on. Strong for the most part, brilliant at certain spots, obtaining this Royal Hunt - Show Me How To Live LP should be your top priority if you want deeply melodic metal that has dignity, charming hooks, a decent amount of brilliant choruses and overall musical exigency.

Rating : 9.2 / 10

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The Unguided - Hellfrost review

Year : 2011
Genre : Metalcore
Label : DespotZ Records
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 4.0 / 10

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Hellfrost is in a hurry to claim all tops of all mountains reigning on moral high grounds, as the band's "melodic death metal" debut starts out with a blaming index finger in humanity's face, and, as it turns out, it has this fixation on keeping it close to that particular collective nose all the way through the spin. So, expect a "melodic death metal" album which isn't that at the first place, because, this sounds much more like family friendly metalcore with tastefully sculpted electronic elements. If you find yourself in the hurry right away to advice me to choke on a row of dead anacondas for not acknowledging this release for what it is on PAPER, then do yourself the courtesy of checking out track 3 on this release, called "Betrayer of the Code" : - oops, Freud nods¿? This is pretty standard metalcore with the weightless fake screaming and some nice goth synths as extra on top. Insomnium's great One for Sorrow DOES sound like melodic death. But this sounds as metalcore, yes, salivated chorus included. Guys, let's talk about the music.


As noted, The Unguided's debut, for the most-, if not for all the part of it, sounds to me like very disciplined, family friendly metalcore stimuli - yupp, even your mom in those hair rolls nods on this music, because she secretly enjoys a chorus from that handsome young man - with quite skillfully/safely provoked production values. The Hellfrost chorus, as an autonomous entity herein, could be the catharsis of any soft rock song, and the main-, yet only deviations from those the record is able to present are the results of the fact that now you are hearing these soft rock choruses with angry, fat guitars at their bases, and there you have your screamo dudette as well, who has the sole function to repeat every single fucking line the lead singer is singing IS SINGIIIIIING! and it is annoying like ass LIKE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSS!!

It is notable that the record shows NO notable struggles to deliver relevance beyond the song template it is utilizing, and comes steadily and sorrowfully short in the department of serious entertainment, in my opinion, and here is why : granted, a little bit of effort is put into the verse, then you get your soft rock chorus, - synonym : cheap way out, congratulations - and, you are lucky if a techno-spiced interlude is coming your way yet in the fabric before your receptors being subjected to yet another verse and yet another chorus. You have just been served, biatch. Track number 7 called "Green Eyed Demon" is a thorough example of how 75% of this album sounds to me like. It has SOME better moments, - none of which I could regard exceptional or worth revisiting - but few and far between, and all drowning miserably in the galore of "so what." grade soft rock metalcore choruses.

I like the intentionally computerized/cybernetized guitars in track number 8, called "Iceheart Fragment", and the inevitable soft rock chorus of the song sounds extremely shitty after the sexy cybernetic guitars of the verse, at least in the world I seek to project. This release has an awesometicularly hard time delivering a chorus I can give a dime with two lost holes in it for, and I have no extra intention to make The Unguided fan even more angry of me then she/he probably already is, so I will attempt to wrap this review up on a more positive note, as I have no desire of coming across as a megatroll who wants to spoil your enjoyment. No, I want you to have it, and have the possible best of it, and my opinion is that what The Unguided's debut gives is not that, but a row of play-it-safe alibi declarations that seek to serve out your assumed-, extremely low level needs without any capacity or desire to calibrate, to elevate those levels at the first place. If you are serious about your melodic death metal fix, check out Insomnium's One for Sorrow, which is a vastly superior and serious release. I must admit that I think there are some pretty thoughtful lyrics on this The Unguided debut album, more precisely : thoughtful lines in some of the lyrics, - "some wounds are not meant to be heal at all", "no one comes to love pain, we can only hope to endure it" - but, as for the music, this one still is below average fantasy action figure toy-metalcore to me. These guys need to put immense efforts into their song writing capabilities in my opinion, because what I have heard on this release from a musical point of view, is relentless metalcore mediocrity delivered with top of the heat production tools.

Rating : 4.0 / 10

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Nightwish - Imaginaerum review

Year : 2011
Genre : Symphonic Abba Metal
Label : Nuclear Blast / Roadrunner Records
Origin : Finland
Rating : 6.0 / 10

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Finland's Nightwish seemingly knows no insipid jokes when it comes to symphonic fairy tale metal. Imaginaerum comes to you with an exigently executed cover art and truly top of the heat production values, and it pains me relevantly enough to inform you that only 5 minutes and 22 seconds of this release is capable to offer something I'm eager to revisit.

Opening track, Taikatalvi is a gently presented musical introduction with Finnish lyrics to it, and this entry, one must assume, serves the attentive function to offer an initial compliment for the ruling atmosphere herein so it could exhibit secretly raging readiness to summon the heft to swarm you proper at any moment near you, with hopefully no less of an agenda than to carry your soul on the oh!, sooo fantastic sonic journey you're here for. Trallala. I got it, I got it. Show me the Animal.


Wish granted. Second track - virtually the first, because the intro is "just" a very nice intro - called Storytime engages Abba Metal Power about 101%, - for 5 minutes and 22 seconds, by the way - and one must imagine that this is the kind of music the so called "diligent metal fan" would be embarrassed to admit she/he totally enjoys, because it sparks, it flows, it carries you indeed, and, regardless of the oh!, so beautifully simplistic structure of verse and chorus, the mutual-, mere melodic tightness of these elements - add the soaring female vocals that hide no Camembert but pack legit power and bite - are more than enough to make GyZ a happy boy so far.

Third track, "Ghost River" has a mixture of seriously wicked masquerade and Rammstein vibe at the start region, in which the LP is quick to address its propensity to go fucking mental if it so pleases, and it is a pretty interesting notion you will be forced to take after its gentler-, but far from slimy direct predecessor. The track shows relative eagerness to go mildly experimental in nature at the mid section, inviting to mind the threshold-zone of the sublime rabidness so inherent to the trade of the avant garde silence massacrists forming the band called Unexpect.

"Slow, Love, Slow" is a slow love song, but, with a sensual menacing vibe to it, presented in a bar atmosphere in which you are not sure what will be the next thing in your mouth : someone's tongue, or a 45 Magnum. This delivery clearly marks an ambition to contribute a truly flamboyant fabric, as brass instruments and a guitar later on join in to deliver standard bluesy vibes. I'm sorry to say that the guitar solo is pretty meh, not much if any musical thought worth sharing behind it, but at least it is short. The song comes to a SUPERB catharsis, courtesy of the female vocalist, but it is SHORT!! Truly, the end section reeks Sam Brown's brilliant declaration Stop, and one has the feeling that the band members got afraid of this instead of embracing it while it is possible.

Next one, "I want my tears back" commits the mistake of nodding on such an exceptionally shitass-sucking track title, but, whatever. This song, unfortunately, shows regions of clueless wandering with Scottish pipes and other hideous things to crave the Michael Flatley. Irish folk song for you. Later on, clapping hands join in in order to exhibit the rhythmic structure for which you will do the Mike Flatley in the next moment if you absolutely are serious about coming across as a person a sober one would not enter into a lift with. This track, in my opinion, sucks ancient mummified mummy balls and I don't like it.

Scaretale tries to scare me with an orchestrated rumble delivered by 1 000 000 stringed instruments, and must say it succeeds. After a short, calmer interlude, an overly-bombastic symphonic build bordering on good old fashioned Bigottry Unlimited invites the rhythm guitars to cover its traces of escape. The singing in the song starts out at 2:55, and it quickly turns out that the name of the game herein is a cute/funny/scary/mehe musical-like piece you could have heard in the Sweeney Todd musical movie. Then you are invited to dismiss this notion, because the build takes a truly terrible turn for a highly idiotic pirate cartoon song, which would be immense dosage of fun in a Secret of the Monkey Island adventure game, but, it sounds like an insult on a professional record when offered as Content and not as a bonus track I get paid for if I'm consent listening to. The track later on returns to a more serious tone that refrains from slapping your face with a dead tuna fish, but, the memory of the horror is too fresh to appreciate any of it.

Arabesque summons the arabesque vibe with very nicely realized, lush orchestra that would flatter a Hollywood blockbuster no problem. Other than that, this indeed sounds more like a thorough-, and splendid demonstration of top level tradecraft skills from the producers - three men have worked on this release as producers - so they could proclaim : "Look! We can produce cinematic music!" Look! They can produce cinematic music!

"Turn Loose the Mermaids" is a gentle-, "emo bard by the bonfire" routine piece with some western overtones I personally got the shivers from in this context. It craves effect sooooooo desperately from me that I, for one, won't give it that courtesy. The song drops the western overtone at the end, and goes Flatley again. Aua.

"Rest Calm" features a man vocalist in a standard power metal stance. While his performance is acceptable, his charm and charisma in my opinion is overshadowed by his female counterparts joining in with a section that sports tad more inventive of a character than the power metalish verse structure. It is not entirely clear at this point what this track wants from me. It sounds like it wants everything, yet wants nothing sufficiently enough so I could give it to it. The piece comes to a bombastic bigottry build via its climax with every instrument in the studio seeking to declare its True Meaning, but the composition simply is not worthy enough to serve this valiant agenda out with me clapping to it.

"The Crow, The Owl and The Dove" is a radio friendly mid-tempo contribution with enough cunning to feature significantly different moods in the chorus and the verse, while a short, efficient interlude builds a safe passage so the band can sell the verse and chorus to you again without you getting caught sleeping. A solid "uhuh" song, but nothing beyond that.

"Last Ride of the Day", thank God & Co., once again goes for the Abba metal vibe which this release looks the best with, in my opinion. The delight is not necessarily unblemished, because the chorus of this entry once again goes for cheapass high fantasy, and, despite the bombastic and relentless repetition of it at the ending portion of the song, I'm not sure if it is as good as the band suggests it to be.

"Song of Myself" is a 13 minutes epic with some pretty superb Abba metal verses at the initial regions, and even more of choirs that go "hah hahh hahh!" relentlessly to interrupt the great lead singer Abba metal chick, who, in my opinion, is much better with her own program than the choir is with their cumbersome-, alibi "hah hahh hahh!", I'm sorry to say. The track comes to a virtual stall without it noticing this about itself, and it basically becomes the context-sensitive background music of any combat section of any fantasy related RPGs. The build escapes this suffocation by seeking out another kind of it, with a row of lengthy, I mean : leeeeeeeenghty narrative performances, and the release gives you the vibe that you are listening to a self help tape. Nothing wrong with that, but where is my direct entertainment you promised!

As for the last track, the titular Imaginaerum : the central theme is a solid, thoughtful melody that could be the invention of John Williams, and, once you are served with it a couple of times, powerful-, yet at heart formless cinematic music is applied, so you would be delighted when you get the then-familiar central melody back. Beware : there are Scottish pipes on your way, and Michael Flatley knows you are near, too. Once again, this is a cinematic soundtrack for a Hollywood blockbuster, and it does nothing less or else than you would anticipate if to expect that from it.

This release has a very limited ability to deliver its stunning top form it gives you via its second track, which, not too surprisingly, was released as an introductory single for a much more tepid full length you have just been reading about. I got super-enthusiastic with this release upon hearing that second track, "Storytime", and with massive disappointment I conclude that I could not find anything else on it to remain in that mood for.

Rating : 6.0 / 10

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Korn - The Path of Totality review

Year : 2011
Genre : Dubstep, Industrial, Electronica
Label : Roadrunner Records
Origin : United States
Rating : 6.6 / 10

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Korn comes your way with a record that aims to invite the iron flavor of - well - metal out of the almost exclusively-industrial sonic domain of dubstep electronica. Drum and base elements and the catchy chorus also is on the list of components you can subject yourself to via this baby, and, frankly, this sounds to be a rather brave release as far as its deviating tendencies from what you "normally" - TUK! - would expect from this band. Deciding that you do not give all too much worry for the matter and will come out with a release you think will BE current and, dare one say, "modern", does not guarantee success on the intent's own merits.

This kind of music Korn puts in front of you in 2011, has been done numerous times already, and not a tad less efficiently, either. Kidney Thieves comes to mind that is a premiere representative of this cyberfry side of music, and that band has been putting out this exact kind of audible mood perpetuation back from the late '90s, and it does. not. sound. any. less. efficient. than Korn's latest. It sounds angrier than this, if anything. Aside from that particular influence, Korn's The Path of Totality evidently seeks to reveal an emotional blend/cohesion between the music of Depeche Mode and The Prodigy, and you can throw some Marilyn Manson on it, too. Track number 7, called "Sanctuary" : Manson-like vocals, meh chorus. The Special Edition features two additional tracks that would have looked way more attentive on the regular edition, - more on this later - because, frankly, the entries of the regular delivery are far less successful tracks than the bonus ones, in my opinion.

Performers of this style usually do not despise the furious tempo, while Korn's The Path of Totality is more of a mid-tempo industrial release with doubtless dubstep character and a risk free accessibility to it. Nothing is too dark, nothing is fast at all, nor is too surprising/shocking on this play-it-safe industrial cyberdubstep release. The general direction is to supply your receptors with acceptable plastic-on-flamethrower-fire music as a base, - exceptional levels of instrumental complexity is an "in your fucking dreams, nerd!" on this LP - then, you will have a melodic chorus with a gloomy character to it, and I'm not happy about the fact that a good dosage of the choruses are sounding like fillers to me. Do not put the cyberjaguar on me yet. There are good moments, too. But great ones : few. The feeling of the music-, of the sonic fabric herein is never so dangerous as you want it to be. To compliment this relative deficit, the feeling of epic gloom - WTF. - is almost exclusive to the release during the choruses, as is a more restrained-, systematically organized mid-tempo pseudo-chaos the record fixatedly seeks to revolve around. The results are mixed. In every sense of the word. Read on to find out more about those.


As noted, the album's musical complexity OR the catchyness factor of its - usually - gloomy hooks hardly are of such elegance or inventiveness that you could bow down to too many of them with an honest expression on the face. (Which would be even harder if the release would have the highly expectable capacity to rip your face off, but, this never happens, I assure you soundly.)

While the release is a passable- , diligently constructed industrial flow with harshly limited cunning to relevantly affect your emotion despite the kinetic sledgehammers it treats you with, exceptional moments, though present, are scarce to greet, and are located on the latter parts of the spin. "Bleeding Out" has this "hey, this kind of has a Faith No More vibe going on!" and the bonus track "Fuels the Comedy" - available on the Special Edition as a BONUS! - has a superb chorus. Ah wait!! Korn's "Fuels the Comedy" is a copy of Faith No More's rendition of Epic, isn't it.

The last track of the Special Edition, with the additional bonus delivery "Tension" also is one of the more tight tracks, though it is having Stone Sour's Cardiff written all over it, so welcome to yet another psychotic breakdown anthem, motherfucker. To be honest, among the "regular edition" tracks, only two did catch my attention right away. Firstly, number 4, "Narcissistic Cannibal" got it - because you think it is about me, but this isn't the only reason I like it - as the track sounds like a Disturbed song in a cyborg disco. The second track I like is about your mom.

In conclusion, know this about Korn's latest : this release is very unlikely to utterly disappoint you in case you think you sport an open mind, because, regardless of its radical tools, it is accessible music at heart, and musically pronounced/expressed angst and intimidating tendencies are not too relevant traits of the fabric. Well, one could say the following : this also is a nice attribute of the spin as whole, because it does not need to rely on fast tempos to be acceptable. But, the other side of the coin is this : if Korn would have given you faster tempos on this LP with THIS set of instruments, then you would have an awful hard time distinguishing this one from standard industrial techno warfare. And no, I do not oppose industrial techno, as there is no kind of music I oppose. All in all, Korn's The Path of Totality is heavily electronica in nature, I dare say that sometimes it invokes 1997 sci-fi computer game vibes, AND the release looks OK as THAT for what the agenda on board is. But, if you are anticipating a metal release, you will be deceived. Korn's latest is not metal in character, nor seeks to be. It's the mid-tempo variant of the music of Kidney Thieves from 1999. And this is a mindhack attempt.

Rating : 6.6 / 10

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Taberah - The Light of Which I Dream review

Year : 2011
Genre : Power Metal
Label : Evilution Records
Origin : Australia
Rating : 8.8 / 10

Australian Taberah's delicious debut - show forgiveness for the covert art and logo - invades air particles near Yours, Truly in exceptionally angry-, YET exacting power metal fashion. Imagine a musical language that is akin in remote character to that of Iron Maiden, but, the theatrical (melo)drama-spice on top that seems to be a keenly cultivated tool of the Brit Great Old Ones, is traded herein for a more vile, mean, Black Sabbatish behavioral stance. Most of the time, that is. Taberah certainly is no stranger to the propensity to go kinna-epic during the builds, - yet melodrama and the communist marching song vibe is not invited - and the best aspect you will have the option to gradually grow aware of regarding the release, is an impression that the debut manages to remain integral and unalloyed to its furious roots even when addressing pathos on its own peculiar terms. The only blatant blemishes I personally have found on the record are the utilization of the rhyme pair : "fire" and "desire". The minor-, but more persistent blemish is the singing on this album itself, which sounds to be the epitome of nothing special. It turns out though that, from a musical point of view, this album is pretty much sex appeal and efficiency from top to bottom,  and, if interested, you need to read out more to find out how and why.


Taberah is not in this business to worship meticulous over-production-, nor the false prophets of effect-scharlatanism: every single thing on the record sounds - in a positive manner - "just" natural, as would the naked drums and amplifiers if you were there in the studio. This, first and foremost, guarantees a lush and intimate listening experience to the mere rawness and power of the soberly controlled raging of the cultivated elements.

The compositions are playful, valiant and straightforward at their respective cores, seeking, finding, then offering great pleasure both with the ever-timeless wonder of the bare-open ringed power chord AND Rambo-grade "listen 'er, n00b" machine gun riffing. The riffcraft on the delivery is exceptionally rich and well sculpted, and serves a galore of fine stimuli to soak your ears into, so the band leaves nothing to be desired - fired!! - in this crucial department, never failing to satisfy your related cravings very thoroughly and gracefully.

Though the lyrics sometimes exhibit some pretty weightless and seriously uninspired alibi-profanity - "do not fuck with us!" - wish granted, Sir - and even relative idiocy - a song about Rambo with the line : "do not fuck with me, I'm Rambo!", WTF, I thought we were through with this?! - but, other than that, the singing style of the singer dude is passable. He does not sound too playful and/or confident, he instead sounds like a man with an agenda he is not sure he could pull off. He sometimes is paaaaaaainfully, painfully under-toned like an MMA fighter after being pepper sprayed, and his performance, while acceptable, does NOT elevate the sonic surroundings at ALL.

WHERE! is the Butch Balich!! I WANT the Butch Balich!!

Taberah's singer tends to refrain from "Gimmedaworld, Fukaz!" - type belts and bends, - and refraining from those is a nono! - and, instead, renders comfy-cozy "uhuh"-grade performance at best and shows no propensity whatsoever to move out of his comfort zone. Attention! Sometimes he sounds quite decent, I like his performance on "Freedom or Death", for example but, also notice : this song is a copy of Metallica's Blackened. The singer sounds like a Hetfield copy herein, too. On the other hand, related good news galore : none of James LaBrie's horrifying emotional slime - aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! the HORROR!! the HIDEUM!! - will be found on your white tie afterwards.

The guitar solo work demands mentioning, too : Taberah has quite decent of a set of solo-capable guest-axewielders amidst its debut front-liners, and their powerful, well articulated playing reeks the Yngwie Malmsteen all the way from start to home, which is not the biggest of strikes you have to endure during a reincarnation.

A tight, focused, muscular declaration that has fine enough musicianship to give the LP an autonomous and rabid character, which is a trait you not frequently see-, let alone hear in the power metal "vaaaaloooor all-whitstaaaaaaand!! weeee fight toooo theee eeeeend!!" direction. 90% of this release is sexily ANGRY, yet truly exigent power metal, and the remaining portion is dedicated either to passable bonfire metal ballads I greatly enjoy skipping, or, a little homage for the originators. Explanation : the titular track "The Light of Which I Dream" has a more pronounced Iron Maiden influence with that peculiar galloping-ass riffage and the similarly Iron Maiden-like 3-4 notes guitar-patterns that are delighted about the fact how the different harmonic structures they are colliding with are serving different harmonic flavors to them. The build later on arrives to a tight-, raging mid-tempo jam session that reminiscent in character to Hendrix's hefty rhythm guitar style, and then the armored Iron Maiden gallops diligently out of your sight to save yet another day before the sun comes up again. All in all, Taberah's debut is superbly crafted, hefty power metal, and the only thing that is scary about it is the artwork, for which the punishment should be inventive sex with the creature on the cover.

Rating : 8.8 / 10

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Theocracy - As The World Bleeds review

Year : 2011
Genre : Christian Progressive Metal
Label : Ulterium Records
Origin : United States
Rating : 9.0 / 10

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Theocracy started out as a one man band of fronter Matt Smith's, who wanted to make Christian metal music that others hopefully would keenly listen to, and the original-, still-present intention worked out well enough to shape up a now-five-members squad that produce not only relevant Christian metal, but relevant progressive metal music in general. First and foremost, it is safe to say that you will do yourself a huge favor and will saving yourself from missing out if you are not dismissing this release because it is "bah, justchristianmetal", as this Christian metal release, trust me, also packs a tremendous burst of creative power punches along a myriad of quite adeptly operated metal-lingos. And my word is kind of good in the matter, because I believe in God more than to believe in him. Theocracy's As The World Bleeds is not afraid-, in fact, quite enthusiastic to elegantly stroll along the quite different genre-traits of metal during its charming run of charismatic progressive cheese-power, and it simply never fails to come up with delicate stimuli of each. Guys, let's talk about the music.


Theocracy's latest is an extremely eventful contribution, of which the primal characteristics are an urge to define the epic (synonyme : cheesy) chorus, yet, the way the band is approaching those from, is never calculable, and always shows readiness to surprise you along an acceptable register. The album showcases a wide variety of metal styles and related behaviors, and what makes it work is the well balanced persistence that each touched genre gets its due with. If and when Theocracy switches from a power metalish stance to a thrashy approach or vice versa - which they will do, oh, so beautifully! - than you can be sure that the band will stick to that particular direction for a healthy amount of time without dismissing it far too soon. This capacity to interchange genre traits with each other is ubiquitous and exigently operated on the delivery, and seldom are times that the album exhibits weaknesses apart from the - usually - cheesefestation choruses.

The basic vibe of the release is a positively traditional metal sound that is not on the hunt for effect wizardry at all, and there is no need for that, either. Well articulated, comprehensible, furious-where-due drumming reigns with an iron fist in the middle of sanely arranged components of your classic metal build. Matt Smith's vocal capacities demand steady recognition : his mid-range is strong, his affectation tolerable, - kind of frightening at first in the opening track - and, funnily enough, his voice gets even stronger when he goes higher. Attention! Do not judge the record by the vocals of the first track, because I personally jumped up 3 meters+ high after I've heard the first sung line of the record. OK, I admit I find the lyrics pretty corny there, too.

As hinted, the relatively weaker parts are the choruses, in my opinion. They do not strike this mind as exciting or evidently meaningful/relevant as their respective surroundings. The chorus of the titular track, "As The World Bleeds" does not do anything to me. Yet, fortunately, the chorus is just a smaller part of an otherwise robust delivery, it's just that I simply find all non-chorus things of it much more efficient and kick-ass than the chorus itself sounds to me as.

The religious overtones on the LP are not obtrusive or brutally assertive at all, they do not seek to alter your belief system - if you are big enough of a douché to have a finalized one, that is - and the album shows no interest in converting you to a Christian beliava'. I'm pagan by the way, so it explains why reviewing this album made me grow 666 little horns on my ass. Theocracy's As The World Bleeds demands your immediate attention, regardless of the sub-genre of metal you are the premiere admirer of. This is top of the heat charmingly cheesy metal music with pink latex choruses, which makes the more serious parts of it all the more commanding when they are folding back on you.

Rating : 9.0 / 10

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Vildhjarta - Masstaden review

Year : 2011
Genre : Djent with ambient elements
Label : Century Media
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 6.5 / 10

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Sweden Vildhjarta - geSUNtheit, Mein Herr - invades your receptors with a concept album that embraces its narrative influences from the Jungle Book and the video role playing game Final Fantasy VII. On paper, this band plays djent, in reality, a good amount of this sounds like pretty disturbed metalcore warfare to me, and here is why : that massive chunk of this baby is gravitating around the continuous act of scattering/littering artificially "portioned" djent patterns around on top of mid-tempo metalcore rhythms, but all the good will in the whole wide world would be less than enough to keep your poker face intact while attempting to regard ALL the content herein as really-really intricately rhythmized.

Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnope.

A healthy amount of this release sounds like heavily syncopated metalcore, - without the corporal punishment choruses, luckily - and the things it looks way better than just that with, are not ever-present on it, unfortufuckingnately.

This almost exclusively is a mid-tempo release, and it is hard to get rid of the feeling that the record shows everything it has the capacity to show right in the first 5 minutes of it. And you are wrong about it, too, because Masstaden has its 10 minutes of strongest offerings at its climax, and these deliveries are more flamboyant builds than you could realistically hope for by witnessing the massively metalcorish start and the middle region of this relatively lopsided declaration.

Combine the - usually - not too risky, nor too inventive schizo rhythm patterns with your everyday average metalcore bonobo screaming, - sometimes complimented by a more death metalish growl, so what. - add half a minute of smoke on the water ambient interlude every 5 minutes, and you have a precise impression of this contribution, which would pack much more entertainment value and relevance if to bring more of what it looks best with. Read on to find out more about this release.


Vildhjarta starts out efficiently enough, but, as hinted, it has a limited initital supply to offer true relevance beyond syncopated rhythmic attractions, and probably this is the reason that the best parts of the spin will start to engage your receptors well beyond the midsection. This LP also contains ambient interludes, but they rarely serve other purpose than to sedate the miserable with alibi-glitter when the monster in the djent would be a risk to awake. Actual musical development and relevant variation is not ever-evident on this spin, which makes me an unhappy boy.

The starting portion of Vildhjarta's Massteden is one, single, psychotic song composed of muted/released shrapnels of deep chugs, but no, they do NOT reveal all too complex or exciting rhythms as they want you to recognize them as. Fear not, Sunshine! After the track 8th mark - oorgle! - things turn to the better, because there is only 1 dosage of bonobo screaming you need to endure before the LP finally starts to negotiate its Cream De La Cream, pha.

Track number 10, called "All These Feelings" finally starts out with an inventively rhythmized riff, in fact, so inventively rhythmized, that the band instead drops it after a minute, and escapes to ambient arpeggio. Auuuua. The release has a stronger period nevertheless in the ending portion, track number 12 "Deceit" once again features delicious, odd rhytmization you can finally take serious because it gives you the same courtesy, but, to be honest, the bonobo screaming that joins in, ruins the experience for me. "Emencely".

Though Vildhjarta's Masstaden could very easily be decipherable as a record that repeats itself over and over and over and over in the same sonic frequency, - probable courtesy of the lowest possible note being banged mercilessly on an 8 stringed guitar - there are elements on it that are better than they sound first. Yet, as a full spin, above average at BEST.

Rating : 6.5 / 10

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Coronatus - Terra Incognita review

Year : 2011
Genre : Fairy Tale Pop Metal
Label : Massacre Records
Origin : Germany
Rating : 6.5 / 10

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The music of Coronatus is your premiere choice if you are a fan of live fantasy. (Or, if you are a paid fan, that is acceptable, as well.) The name of the game herein is richly developed, heavily fantasy-influenced tale-metal with a tolerable pop tint to it, and the premiere saving grace of this ambitious direction is the mere sonic abundance of the delivery.

Coronatus, one has the hunch, had a similar plan in mind than what Italian Ancient Bards have accomplished with their latest to date, furious, powerful dark fairy tale full length, yet this particular baby deliberately lacks all the "it" factors worth failing to put your finger on when it comes to rabid intensity. It is a much more calm release, with JUST an acceptable amount of fantasy queen bigotry exhibited in the female singing department. (Of which you will find exactly none of on the aforementioned dainty Ancient Bards release, which features signing by a female FITA'!)

Coronatus seeks to sound rather complex while remaining pleasantly easy on the ears in character, filling the sonic fabrics with exotic instrumental choices : synthetic strings, bells, woodwinds, Scottish pipes, mutant baby that vomits violently if you pull its tentacle, tame rhythm guitar with no reminder of balls guarantee a shocking experience as you climb aboard this likable Lego metal-ship with hopes that it won't go Titanic on your butt. Read on to get your ticket, Lover.


Coronatus is in the constant-, relatively successful process of seeking for instant pop-metal epicness, thinking that the toy-guitar on the left channel makes it HEAVY!! MMMET'LLL!!! Oh my God! It DOES! The good news is that the release is able to convey a wide palette of related emotions with sufficient convince power, and the bad news is that the spin is a tad more tediously volumetric in its length than it can remain super-focused for. And yes, it is absofuckinglutely expectable from a record to be super-focused, or at least, attempt to do that and spot-reject elements that do not come through as efficiently. As hinted, there is a solid amount of heavily deranged goth-bigotry on display here that will make nothing else than rob you out of luscious attention, but, you won't regret it (that much) and this is the charming part.

The most relevant problem this release is prone to suffer from is the inconsistent songwriting that haunts the spin as a full declaration. Whenever the record sounds to have no true content to offer, it takes the brave-, but relatively misplaced and incompetent liberty to harass your receptors with clumsy experimental decisions in at attempt to escape the terrible, terrible grasp of uninspired fairy tale metalcore. Track number 9, called "In Signo Crucis", for example, is a good example of this disorganized pacing, in which you can't help but be entertained, nevertheless. And WHAT an "amazing" drum solo!! GTFO, I'm begging you.

There is no doubt at all that the record has tremendous amount of work in it, but a good dosage of that "tremendous amount" is originated from rudimentary-, on occasion, even clueless compositional techniques, and, funnily enough, the record weighs in even more likable with all the qualms you could raise regarding the blemishes in its integrity. On Coronatus' Terra Incognita, an absolutely risk free-, but likable variant of tale-metal seeks your appreciation. Regardless of its deep-pinkish direction, the release has quite sufficient complexity - even with its numerous weaker parts - to command your awareness to take it serious while Christmas is near the door.

Rating : 6.5 / 10

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Vektor - Outer Isolation review

Year : 2011
Genre : Thrash Metal
Label : Heavy Artillery Records
Origin : United States
Rating : 9.5 / 10

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Vektor's Outer Isolation brings to you a rampant variant on the original form of full blown, unforgiving, timelessly oldschool thrash metal. Musically, this record is eloquently brutal and ever-faithful at heart to the most demanding traditions of the style. Among these traditions, the steepest probably is to establish an autonomous flow of waste-propensity through the individual musical ideas, and Vektor delivers flawlessly in this regard.

The reason behind this capacity is none other than the combination of the band's - just natural - love for the thrash metal genre, supported though by a valid set of compliments that deliberately aim to flatter the mere "limits" of the style. Indeed, one can come up with trash metal riff ideas and deliver those along different tempos to end up with "uhuh" grade thrash content, but Vektor is vastly past that game, and keeps the tip of its vile index finger on the tiny-tiny region where the pulse of thrash is the most intensified, and, as such, the most entertaining. Vektor's Outer Isolation is a record that is the equivalent of a bomb device with a malfunctioning timer jumping between 50:00 and 0:30, so it seeks and accepts no silent peace in the sonic domain. Listen how this thrash metal album starts up its engines at the 2:15 mark of the opening track : this is what I want from thrash metal, and all other things regarding the matter is insignificant. Read on the find out more about this release.


The record has an extremely sexy horror-sci-fi theme to it, as the great cover art suggests that already : sci-fi at heart, yet the green tint conveys an alienating, discomforting Cthulhu-influence, a sense of cosmic horror that is out to crush the little human astronaut on the image, simply by being seemingly separate and seemingly so much vaster than him. Opening track, called "Cosmic Cortex", in my opinion, is about God's consciousness, and let me tell you that I'd rather hear a thrash song about God's consciousness than about a fast car which you can drive like : - uh - fast. Fuck that shit already, pretty pretty please with chocolate syrup and strawberry pellets on top?

As just hinted, the top of the foodchain thrash metal music on this LP also brings quite relevant and well constructed lyrics, heavily fixated on transhumanic / philosophical / existential observations, and bowing to no cheap, false Thrash Gods like alcohol, or adolescence-fury as Dave Mustaine so shamelessly does with his terribly, terribly sad song called "You hate my friends and where we go, you hate the way we wear out clothes, just whose life it is, anyway?".

Just whose lie it is, anyway?

Vektor comes forth with a musically competent and quite BRAVE release, as well. This album reeks and summons the best forms of the most rabid thrash traditions, early Voivod comes to mind - what's more sexy thrashing than that? - and the singer here is in a constant war with ALL and PREVAILS, and the music's heft simply does not know the concept of a fuel tank that needs a refill. When the band decides to tame the sonic rampaging for an elegant, lush, complex instrumental moment, - of which the release packs no less nor more than beneficial for the primordial agenda - that always is a result of an awareness that is out to guard the efficiency-peak of full intensity engagement, which is the premiere nature of this spin.

Vektor's Outer Isolation is a current-, paradoxically enough, ever-fresh reincarnation of the timeless form of the similarly ever-fresh epitome of oldschool thrash metal, but, what separates this declaration from the flock, lies in the musical inventiveness : the record has all your thrash needs at its immediate disposal, yet, it also exhibits an autonomous capacity to cultivate new ones - awareness, and related quasi-needs - in you, and this is the most you can ever expect from any musical data. You definitely should check this one out, no matter what.

Rating : 9.5 / 10

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Ancient Bards - Soulless Child review

Year : 2011
Genre : Symphonic Power Metal, Epic Metal
Label : Limb Music / SpiritualBeast / Universal
Origin : Italy
Rating : 8.8 / 10

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Italian symphonic power/epic metal squadron Ancient Bards brings with itself an ornamented tome of rather healthy size sealed by a platinum guitar token and a platinum sword token, and also filled with stories even Edgar Alan Poe would show honest interest in, - no, Mr. Poe did not oblige, neither did The Wall. If YOU would, then you are about to be late with that already, because in a blink of an eye Ancient Bards slip out of the shadow to pop the cover up without remorse or hesitation, only, this time, the "muhaha" remains absent, and its mere absence is free to emerge as the mere fun for a change. This, no doubt, is a dainty, valiant symphonic metal statement from top to bottom, and also one that remains able to communicate itself along the dark fairy tale register without turning into the kind of Camembert that is about to be ready to move in space at its own free will. That's where cheese begins, right?

The release has full blown-, but much welcomed fixations it simply can not live without. The name of the primer game herein is up-tempo power metal of complex, gritty, yet playful character, one which proudly lacks all capacity and all the tools to hide what it really wants to do at heart without any regard to any other considerations whatsoever. The favorite patterns of the band are not hesitant to address their defining traits in full efficiency in a short amount of time, and the one simple thing that makes all this work superbly, is that the band members are aware of a flamboyant - and also soberly limited - variety of those. You will get accustomed to this album in 5 minutes, or not in five eternities. Because, in that case, you probably will remain a grandmaster-douché who gets bitter sex exclusively from dwarfs wearing pig masks. Ladies and gents, let's talk about the music.


As hinted, Ancient Bards' Soulless Child is not at all occupied with coating its primer, true intents into alienated variation. The tempo, most often - in fact, almost exclusively - is furious and fast enough to stick a smile on a pneumatic driller, the harmonies are dainty and brisk, and the whole build is complimented by a symphonic fabric in the background. Aggression is not too important here, in fact, not at all. Melody - rampant-unalloyed is more important, as you will see. The patterns I have been telling you about are expressing themselves in the rhythm section, primarily, as the LP exhibits a very straightforward, efficient methodology : you have the harmonic build with a momentary drum pattern to it, - the drummer has about four favorite drum patterns, and ONE particular carpet bomber pattern he is the Grateful Slave of and will make YOU one, too - and you have the female - aaaaaaaa - lead singing on top, that which finds absolutely pleasant directions to achieve the sense of dark tone fairy tale register which the record really is all about. One especially nice trait of this declaration is its reoccurring readiness to go rabid and exigent on the instrumental builds with crisp keyboard and guitar solo work.

As for the symphonic quality, that is not an irrelevant component of the fabric at all. It brings to mind an immediate reminiscence to fellow Italian group Fleshgod Apocalypse, - thunderous roar IN - thunderous roar OUT - only, this time, the music is more tame at heart and sports Gazelle anatomy instead of the composure of a juggernaut-grade reality eradicator the death metal specialists reveal on their latest contribution.

Regardless of a relative proneness of virtually repeating itself, - says the dudette with the letters - the release shows elegant interest to stay away from the safety shortcuts the genre offers for the antitalent at discount prices. As result of this TRULY commanding determination, the power metalish communist marching song vibe now gets traded for a much more intriguing vibe, that which is reminiscent of the ethos of dramatic musical theater, - oxymoron? - even opera, giving you a mood that invites to mind and soul such concepts as the musical atmosphere of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana and the kind of "dark" fantasy that is out for no blood, instead it is out to seek and point out "mere" secretive significance in the mighty fabric of the shared world experience.

Lead singer Sara Squadrani delivers a performance that is very easy to decide you like, and here is why : Miss Squadrani is not trying to be the immediate oh!, so most relevant Presence in a sonic fabric she is part of, she instead reigns in the state of "just" being there, - which, in a woman's case, is just sufficient - provoking a valiant fight with the sonic mass, which, in a while bows and bends to her will. Her tools are a great "as hard as I can!" attitude and splendid set of lungs and no regard whatsoever of what you think of her singing. In other words, Sara Squadrani is Your Metal Goddess Who Happens to Be There and Is Not Afraid to Prove That. And, usually the singers who fail to give a damn of what others think of their singing, are the ones THOSE others will enjoy, too. Squadrani's voice packs the raw-, but tender she-wolf a female metal singer virtually is worthless without, and her REAL, non-effected track sits in a very well researched place in the mix. I especially like the way she delivers her loooong long extremes wherein a song demands so. All in all, I like Sara Squadrani's singing and I'm pretty sure that you like it, too.

All in all, Ancient Bards' Soulless Child is a robust symphonic power metal delivery that brings to you a whole lot to soak your grateful ears into, and, courtesy of its homogeneous character, this without doubt is a record that simply weighs in as intense, flamboyant fun to listen to.

Rating : 8.8 / 10

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Iron Savior - The Landing review

Year : 2011
Genre : Power Metal
Label : Dockyard 1
Origin : Germany
Rating : 8.5

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Germany's Iron Savior is full-enthusiasm power metal with constant will present to relentlessly embrace all the favorite forms and premiere patterns of the genre. Though the communist marching song vibe is on dock and stands ready to be engaged during this meticulously sculpted power metal release, a good amount of significant benefits immediately save this contribution from sinking into mid-tempo fist-pump mediocrity. First, a concept decision to include the statements on a quasi-sci-fi / fantasy field, make this release a spiritual variant to walk in the footsteps of Symphony X's superb Iconoclast. The character of the music on this spin shows a soberly stacked, clean set of production values that bring you a deeply traditional, yet to-this-day-efficient approach to compliment the genre on. The lyrics, while charmingly cheesy at times, never seek to lie more drama than they are able to, - oh really. - which, much fortunately, gives Iron Savior the space to deliver valiantly along the instrumental department, too. Because they are eager, and able to. Usually shorter, - there are a few, elegant exceptions - but efficient and colorful solos, chordal modulation passages are numerous to be heard and behold, and, the performance of the singer dude is totally likable, as well. He knows the character-, the timber of his voice, unleashes an elegant kind of NATURAL animal without having to pay with soul, while wisely refrains from forcing his voice to do things it would not look convincing without. Read on to find out more about this sci-fi tinted power metal declaration.


Thank God & Co., it is very hard to find caveats around-, and on this release for what it is, and it becomes so hard from a point on, that you stop looking for them altogether, instead. Iron Savior brings you a very cleverly constructed foam of stimulus in the sense that the album mainly is an up-tempo delivery that wants what it wants right here, and right now. This absence of any notable will to give you the usual slower variants on epic determination, imbues this LP with a persistent charm to go high octane 99% of the time. This urge to invite the power metal animal 23/7 deserves both respect and admiration, because the vehicle is properly driven all the way through. Track number 9, called "Faster Than All" - see?? - has an especially nice example of the percept the record seems to be fond of cultivating : after a solid, intense section, the band arrives at a deceitful stall for a moment, and you think they have "intensed-out", and a more tamely constructed sequence will entertain you from that particular point on. But, you are mistaken, and so happy about it, too : Iron Saivor picks you up and throws your hide into the trunk, and brings back the original intense mode you loved the most at the first place, and it rides on an even more rabid note, now that you had the chance to reflect on the mere memory of it for a second. But NOT for more.

As such, Iron Savior's The Landing is speedy, traditional, elegant power metal with so competent and exigent musicianship behind it that it finds no need-, nor desire to be your everyday average Iron Maiden clone. Instead, the Iron Savior dudes like to collide the same sonic entity with different harmonic environments, but, to be honest, this is one of the most fun part of music, so there is nothing wrong with THAT technique at all, in my opinion. This record is a testament of a well operated-, sharply focused creative force that seeks to properly appreciate the traditional, and this serious, gracing quality is written on all the shapes it is radiating outward. Once you have invited your secretive power metal fan forth, - even better if you did not even hide the thing - Iron Savior's The Landing comes to you as nothing sort of immediate power metal delicacy.

METAL HEEEEEEEART!!!!!!!!!!!!!4four

Rating : 8.5 / 10

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Nickelback - Here and Now review

Year : 2011
Genre : Radio Rock, Soft Rock
Label : Roadrunner Records, Universal
Origin : Canada
Rating : 5.0 / 10

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Canada's Nickelback crushes into your radar zone with a cover art that has the Need for Speed Underground 2 going on right from 2004. OM fucking G. High Dynamic Range Photography for High Dynamic Range bubblegum rock of the pretty deceitful kind, and the only catch - huge catch at that - herein lies in the profound inconsistencies the album is prone to exhibit along its not too long spin time of 39 minutes.

Nickelback's Here and Now starts out on its highest note to offer with brisk, muscular album opener "This means war", - forget the pretentious platitude lyrics - in which the rule set is quick and efficient to reveal its surprisingly deceitful character : the name of the main game, you, oh!, tricked one would think, is up-tempo hard rock-accessibility with modestly tamed aggression that packs sufficient amount of grit, but you will find yourself further and further away from this hope along the spin's way. Read on to find out more about this release, that which relentlessly collides your face with every single sentence of the "here is how to build a risk free, catchy mid-tempo rock song for the family friendly radio audience!" textbook. Blooooeeeeeeeh.


As hinted, it is very easy to be totally enthusiastic and honestly hopeful for the record after hearing its intense opener, and I personally find myself with my mouth and eyes wide open by the bewilderment caused by a healthy 75%-80% (!!) of the latter segments of this radio rock release. There is one primer quality to this record that will determine its ultimate value in your eyes, and that is this : on this Nickelback LP called Here and Now, every single ear-friendly bonfire chord progression will have its ass bruuuutally, brutally abused to death and beyond, and the same goes for the melodic rock-lines. You have heard every single one of those before. Truly, I invite you to check out the superb first track of this LP, - the second, called "Bottoms Up" is solid, too, minus the shitdigger "let's be drunk,aye!" lyrics - and compare it with the last one. Once again : OM fucking G.

This LP shallows to as radio friendly soft rock as you have ever saw or heard, in fact, it does not refrain from the borders of annoying-ass pop, on occasion. Track number "When We Stand Together" starts to test the flashing red light with a "hey, hey, yei, yie!" chorus that makes John Lennon's Give Peace a Chance run to a corner, go fetal and cry, imagine what it does to me, asfjasklfjlsflasfsfas

Unfortunately, saved for its first two solid tracks, Nickelback's latest is so brutally fixated on the super-orthodox, radio-friendly compositional technique of verse - chorus - verse - chorus - intermission - huuuugechorus - not to mention that the content gets more tired and disturbingly sweaty with each song, as I will attempt to illustrate - that the listener is quick to learn how it is a vain idea to expect anything relevant after the first two contributions. (Which are the only two actual ones on this spin, in my opinion.)

OK, I admit, track number 4 "Midnight Queen" shows a little sear promise of plastic dignity yet, but nothing too serious : this is a relatively retarded, but at least, enthusiastic offspring from Aerosmith's Mama Kin and Guns N' Roses' Rocket Queen - Freud nods - and it also is the marker from which after the record turns into saliva-embarrassment and relentless anti-relevance.

Track number 5, called Gotta Get Some : the verse structure is Genesis' "I can't dance" from 1992, and the song gets a glam metal chorus to make daddies hide their daughters in the closet. Pha. Who gives a shit. Your daughter is ugly, Sir.

Track number 6, called "Lullaby" is a copy of "Winds of Change" from Scorpions from 1990 or so, only, the chorus is replaced with the instant love song chord progression a decent woman will flamethrower-, THEN butcher you for. The fact that I was able to sit through this shit without spontaneously igniting up in flames, is a testament of will bordering on the superhuman, to be honest. Never. Again.

Track number 7, "Kiss It Goodbye" goes '80s synthpop with distorted guitars, - the riff is stolen from the '80s "uaaa - uaaa - u" song, I don't know what its title is, sorry - and the whole track reeks Peter Gabriel's Sledgehammar, in my opinion.

Track number 8, called "Trying to Not Love You" is an unsuccessful radio-hack attempt/riposte to Stone Sour's "Through the Glass", only "Through the Glass" is a song with power and dignity, and "Trying Not To Love You" is recycled soft-ass rock vomitory in slime format and I don't like it at all.

Track number 9, "Holding to Heaven", supposedly is a separate song from "Trying to Not Love You", - not so evident at first - yet one has to admit with delight that this song shows more success in communicating itself as the epitome of an Aerosmith glam metal ballad, but, basically, this what this song is. That "Holding on for : EVVA'" at the end of the chorus is what the song is all about, other than that : bonfire open chord rapeage.

Track number 10, "Everything I Do" is about women. This sounds like a mid-tempo ZZ Top song, only - and unfortunately - much less successful than the classic declarations of the Texan Ancients. And here is why : Nickelback,. Your. Song. Has. No. Chorus. !

Track number 11 is just a hideous closure with the hackneyed "we are children forever, you know, and life can be so beautiful you know, when I'm not abusing these poor chords in THIS particular sequence, you know!" vibe with another chord progression that is an embarrassment to consider, let alone PLAY.

Honestly, I tremendously like the first song of this LP, the second, I consider a good one, - minus its platitude-ass booze-abuse lyrics for teens wearing flannel shirts with horrifying rectangles on them - and all other things on this release are epic fail, in my opinion. Five points, because my heart is Gold.

Rating : 5.0 / 10

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Echancrure - Paysage. Octobre. review

Year : 2011
Genre : Experimental Drone with Black Metal flavor
Label : Independent
Origin : France
Rating : - review requested by artist -

Echancrure - Paysage. Octobre. sounds to be 30+ minutes of experimental moods that are characterized by a deeply observatory stance, showing zero interest to harm stuff on sight, and only mild at declaring where the structure wants to go, especially in its start off sequence. This restrained contribution most often is reluctant or utterly disinterested to make a move for the hook or the sharply sculpted harmony, exhibiting more readiness at seeking your enjoyment via a brittle atmospheric/background nature that is cautiously flattered by a wide variety of shy, but clearly defined musical instruments.

The primary language of this yours-for-free, or pay-as-much-as-you-want digital download is tenderly expressed experimental gloom, threading along vague directions in the company of a sense of quasi-helplessness the record and its listener cooperatively cultivate during a healthy dosage of the program time. I drift away from stacked void to stocked void in the galore of pretty much bare open musical spaces, looking at random sonic entities that are as ignorant of my alien presence as most often I find myself to be of theirs, and this experience summons the intimacy of listening. As for the relative - at least initial - alienation, that sounds to be a result of some quasi-odd, but no doubt rather exotic instrumental selections, which, of course, are of a highly subjective matter. Read on to find out more about subjective matters.


Though the "I" in a review is not at all important, sometimes it just begs to differ and say that I am genuinely surprised by the presence of cimbalom on a drone record, since, to me, it tends to click along the "NOW, you are ASLEEP, rascal G. I. Joe!" embedded command, but. Once again, this is highly subjective, and if someone else finds this tender, funny cimbalom timber to do justice to the much murkier surroundings they are expressed in on this record, then my private amen naturally has no other chance than to bow down to that particular autonomous experience.

As hinted, Echancrure - Paysage. Octobre. delivers a relatively cumbersome, but tolerable start, and eventually finds a more focused tone to communicate along a share of more relevant moments in its latter portion. The main attractive factors of the release will come to entertain you as courtesy of diligently realized-, chaotic-but-not-offensive orchestra segments, - composed of violins, primarily - and an eerie distorted background guitar joins into the fray here and there too, in order to valiantly veil its one note song of cosmic torment away into the immediate surroundings with hollow, but efficient skeleton-drumming sharing the misery in the neighboring background by its own consent. What I personally enjoy the most about the release, are the moments with pronounced-, playfully chaotic and also soberly limited "violin-foams" present in them. This entity further assuages a not at all unfriendly sonic chaos, and plays around in it in a way that sounds to summon a hint or two at brittle, but diffo-present steam punk vibes.

The release beyond doubt has the capacity of communicating itself as a continuous experience, which probably is one of the steepest requirements to fulfill in the blend of genres this download seeks to flatter. This diligently nihilistic music review site Noise Shaft WILL review an album of an independent artist if one requests so, - as it did right here, right now - but will not offer a rating in such cases, because there is nothing an independent artist needs more than independent listeners, and it is unnecessary to attempt to influence consensus by giving a rating to something that is not yet in commercial circulation, thereby narrowing its chances to be. So, this time, you will rate, if anyone. Follow this link to check out the album yourself :

Echancrure - Paysage. Octobre.

Rating : - review requested by artist -

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Steel Panther - Balls Out review

Year : 2011
Genre : Glam / Penis Metal
Label : Universal
Origin : United States
Rating : 7.0 / 10

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Steel Panther does not make the miserable critic's life easier, as it is not enough that the band's latest contribution is an unblemished hair me... penis metal delivery when witnessed from the angle it wants you to entertain along, - meaning nothing more or else than hearing, you little rascal, you! - it also features lyrics that sooner or later WILL start to kick one hysteric laugh after the other out of you, no matter how hard you tried to resist like a respectable stock-civilian. This, first and foremost, is a commercial microwave product solely engineered to immediate consumption while it tolls the idiotic giggle out of you via the oh!, so naughtyness it wettily swims - gihi, gihi! - in. This is '80s, early '90s glam metal galore with a relentless comic-book sex fixation. Legs, lips, tits, meat, more legs, more tits, more lips, more meat, until you need 5 magical minutes to recuperate. This is the Life of Your Rock Star God who Has It All and Fails to Give a Shit Anymore, until he has the opportunity - again - to witness two drunk chicks - others, this time - licking out cocaine from each other's ass, now THAT still demands a minute or so of attention. This is the underlying parody-ethos of this decently presented commercial product, and deciphering it any other way will make you look kind of bitter and super-miserable, which is a pretty clever trick of the album. You can't oppose it without coming across as a tool, because it is the deliberate comic-book caricature of a lifestyle the judger probably has zero access to.

You, who judge, are only angry at it because you are not part of it.

As such, brutally negativistic notions about this harmless commercial product are not only unnecessary, they simply can not have significant weight on this LP, either. Quite the contrary : they are making it only more notorious, and more sellable. Which is part of the plan, of course. If you are crying out "this is the desanctification of metal!" - then you are 1. wrong, 2. have been brainwashed, and you are making money for the creators. Not believe me? Hah. Not a single person who has been brainwashed, has knowledge about it. If you think metal can't take a parody like this, - and an EXIGENT parody, mind us, because

Steel Panther is legit glam metal

- then your current conception of metal should be wasted, in my opinion.

Steel Panther's Balls Out is not at all pretentious - positive - nor utterly relevant enough - negative - to develop a largely bullshit-based valuesystem-hate for, yet, being enthusiastically blown away by this product, which is primarily out there to make you a Buyer via serving out your most superficial soul-content and deluding you to think that the album is not about the creator's bank account but about YOU, on the other hand, is the equivalent of you tattooing "ATTENTION! I'm a retarded fucking turd and I like fantasy too, and I also am the guy who likes to get slapped around!" on your forehead. This is why and how this LP has the potential - haha, haha, ahahaha! - to be somewhat relevant to the genuinely staggered - smaller group - and to the drunk-ass audience that mainly looks to pump fists while throwing up on each other during a live show. Read more about this marketing attempt, or don't.


The record knows and utilizes - in an enjoyably realized manner, musically speaking - all the clever harmonic mechanics and the proven-, ever-vigorated pattern-platitudes of the glam metal genre, and, what is totally respectable from the album, is that it does not want to offer anything else or anything less than the 101% fulfillment of the - by the way : quite steep - requirements of still-enjoyable classic hair metal you prefer to deny you - sometime - enjoy.

Yes, the most cheapest form of the ethos of glam metal is kind of directed to the 13 year old girl -, who else does feel anything but the urge to shed a tear for perplexing lines like Poison's "Talk dirty to me", OMFG - but we should never forget that the glam metal vibe also could produce much more relevant popcultural deliveries, Guns N' Roses' Sweet Child O' Mine, for instance. (I know all Guns N' Roses songs by heart, and I feel secretly embarrassed about it a little, this is the magic of glam metal.)

Steel Panther's Balls Out shows equal interest in delivering along the more intense form of the style, while also making valiant and relevant attempts to revive the Aerosmith / Bon Jovi glam metal ballad with lyrical themes fixated on harmless comic-book porno. As hinted, the whole album is about explicit, harmless comic-book porno, and this direction is quite suitable to make you look more and more idiotic as you even ATTEMPT to oppose it. As hinted, the lyrics sometimes will get you completely off-guard, which simply is the most efficient quality of the release. An example : "Tomorrow I'll go to a party, tomorrow, I'll get myself some pussy, but, tonight : I'll jerk off."

In my opinion, you need to be an exceptionally sad person if you do not laugh at such a line. Mike Patton comes to mind who says : "Slayer. What can you tell about Slayer? I do not trust ANYBODY, who doesn't like Slayer."

There is a track on this album with a superb sequence. Track 11, called "I like drugs" has a powerful harmony/vocal melody collision from 1:42. If the album would feature ideas like this instead of the microwave glam it is primarily fond at, I would give the 8.0 even if the lyrics were : pussy!, cock!, pussy!, cock!, pussy! all over. But "I like drugs" is a pretty decent track, and it reeks classic Guns 'N Roses, Aerosmith glam-intensity all the way. Nothing you have never heard before, but very authentically, muscularly and properly done for that.

But, the reality of related things is that the more jokes a man offers about his genitals, the less interested I am in those jokes. And I show ZERO for the cock itself, OK?? Anyway. Steel Panther's Balls Out should be among your number one picks to surprise your feminist friends with. It is not the tragedy of this album if it produces millions of sales, it is the tragedy of humankind, but hey, life goes on.

Rating : 7.0 / 10

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Leviathan - True Traitor, True Whore review

Year : 2011
Genre : Drone Black Metal
Label : Profound Lore Records
Origin : United States
Rating : 9.0

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Jef - with a single "f" - Whitehead, A.K.A Wrest is the central figure of American black metal one man band Leviathan, in which he is responsible for all vocals, lyrics and instruments. This release has a rather unique character to it, because it was conceived after / during Whitehead underwent a stormy period of personal experiences, and you can allegedly tell the same about his ex-girlfriend. Noise Shaft openly despises physical violence and finds art an acceptable place to portray it in AND lock it in, and, also a place to get rid of all real life desire - if there is any - to exercise violent acts. Why do I say this, you ask. Here is why : according to Wikipedia, quotation starts : "Jef Whitehead was charged with criminal sexual assault and aggravated domestic battery on 9 January 2011 and held on $350,000 bond after allegedly attacking his girlfriend and raping her with tattoo tools. Whitehead was released after the bail was dropped to $100,000."

Beyond considering physical violence unacceptable, semi-worthless critics has no business nor function offering opinion on the matter, because it would necessarily be one to be resonated from a self-claimed "higher moral ground" that is more about the person who is standing on it than about the circumstances he is offering his impressions about. Only the ex-girlfriend, Wrest, and God knows what actually happened for real, and all other beings should probably be confident that everyone will get what they have sculpted for themselves, in the long run. The mills of God are grinding slowly. But they ARE grinding. With that, I see no need to add further thoughts to the legal connotation, but still remain super-curious of the black metal music Jef Whitehead came up with while living the real life turmoil the content has been recorded in. Ladies and gents, let's talk about the music.


True Traitor, True Whorror sounds significant, sick, massive, brittle, ugly, disgusting, interesting, deranged, unhinged and most importantly, rampant. One thing is guaranteed : you won't be able to get away with the actual lyrics-, in fact, not with a single proper word of those - that Wrest is voicing through 342342423234 effect processors, but it is not primarily important, not for this moment. The lyrics will be something to behold upon their release, but Whitehead really would have to be super-unwise to condone violent/threatening lyrics on an album while facing a series of trials. The titles of the tracks are indicative of violent acts on their own, so that should be sufficient enough to defend against at the court, I imagine.

The music on this disc is bubbling with a possessed kind of intensity, that which is definitely not a very positive kind either, to say the least. Wrest is giving away intentionally thin, - production wise - yet efficient cracked-voice rants about fucks knows what, but you can clearly hear and UNDERSTAND the mere INTENT behind the register he is delivering the vocals in, and there is no doubt in you at all that this register is serving exclusively bad news for you all day long.

What I especially enjoy about this release, are the compositions themselves, and the album's brutally intimate production values : the LP sounds insipidly - in a good way - real and vile, and Whitehead did a superb job at parking the instruments around in the builds at attentively researched places to create efficient sonic functions. Track number 6, called "Every Orifice Yawning Her Price", for example : notice the guitars in this track : they are only as prominent as to make you cautiously acknowledge/feel their presence, and, when you move in closer to flatter their meaning, it is evident that they are here to suck your soul out through your eyeballs, too, which is the least efficient way to start a day.

A keen readiness to offer flamboyant variation is a focal trait of this rascal threatparade : Wrest, fortunately enough, is not one to sabotage cavalcade for too long, instead, he is riding on a pretty constant capacity to affect/shock you proper with the consecutive pattern structure. Mark 3:40 in the opening track, called True Whorror, for instance : a terrible vortex of inhuman voices and wailing guitars invade your receptors, and you have lost that particular war before deciding to wage it. Or track 3, called "Brought Up to the Bottom" : the siren effect is "just" discomforting, but the central riff of the initial sequence takes a deep breath and pulls backwards just to thrust forward and vomit fire on you in the next moment. The album features a twisted sense of lyrical qualities and moods, as well : this very same track reaches a conclusion that revolves around three sorrowful, morose chords that simultaneously assuage and provoke the monstrosities they are witnessing their movement in the vicinity.

It is without any doubt at all that this release is fueled by real deal-, top of the heat creative forces, and the personal experiences that have invited those, are not something I feel the need to offer a necessarily incompetent judgment upon. Let's hope that Jef Whitehead will keep his demons exclusively in his music, because they are looking pretty good in that place, while they would necessarily be pestilence and disease if released any other way. With its superb, garage-charm-intimacy production values and a relentless intent to bully your receptors around in an inventive, exigent and meticulously sculpted fashion, True Traitor, True Whore reeks musical significance all the way through, and I like it.

Rating : 9.0 / 10

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Esoteric - Paragon of Dissonance review

Year : 2011
Genre : Funeral Doom
Label : Season of Mist
Origin : United Kingdom
Rating : 9.2 / 10

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Esoteric - Paragon of Dissonance is spaceship-delerict doom metal with its focus exclusively directed on the incapacitated states a human is in and constructs its assumed reality by. This band is out to rip your face off to help you see better with the heart, but, according to the music contained on this double barreled, it is not at all guaranteed that what the heart sees, will be to its liking, either.

If you want to go mad-, or, at the very least, would prefer to suck on the tongue of good old fashioned existential dread as result of you lacking the capacity to consciously and radically adjust those at any time, - which is indeed not something we possess the capacity for, but we are permitted to accept this state and do our best to improve this capacity in the future, [- by improving our current ones, for example?? -] then this CD is your immediate premiere choice to move in for the ancient, saggy tits of existential anxiety.

I bet she is a much more adept kisser than you, and no, I do not want to try. This review will include a superb nervous system trick as well, if you need one. If you don't, then I apologize. Yet, as for now, read on to find out how the latest Esoteric delivery to date crashes into your concept of reality.


Esoteric seems to be a critic, and one with a troll temper at that, and this double CD set is openly out there to rip your face off, so the access to your third eye is realized, at last. Esoteric expects you to give thorough face time - oops - to your dire companion Mr. Unbeknownst, the guy who is equally open about his agenda to bury a part of you every single day.

Esoteric is crawling, crushing doom metal reigning evident-rampant, primarily realized by analog instruments. Big, tidal-wave drums, guitars tuned to the depths of hell, and bass wide enough to make your subwooffer reconstruct your DNA, what irony! Esoteric also utilizes some rather elegantly and meticulously realized digital atmospherics to spice a build up here and there with little vile vibes of much greater significance. Yet, mind us that this solution is not ever present on the release, so its occurrence always is a very efficient-, and, paradoxically enough, gracing feat to behold.

As for the main attraction of the music herein, that is none other than a superb sense for strong, albeit tormented harmonic structures and odd - in a good way - rhythms. One would be quite curious of the lyrics, as well, - though I imagine there is not much manlove in them - because what you can get away with without the textual description of those, is nothing less, nor nothing more than decent vocal delivery via traditional death metal growling.

The songs are long like a round under a banshee, and thank God & Co. for that, because Esoteric's music absolutely demands these thorough investigations. The listener can not be criticized if she/he dismisses the stimuli she/he hears if to think of it as being unsuccessful. This is not the case herein at all. Esoteric, as hinted, comes up with harmonies that are sewn out of a highly psychedelic nature, and they are so well researched-, so "well felt" and smartly sculpted indeed that listening to their progression - various basic intensity and background to them, etc - remains utterly efficient and highly enjoyable for the multitude of minutes they tend to address their autonomous, exquisite deviancies. It seems to be quite true that once a harmony is strong enough, you are not sure you want it to go away too soon. A funny thing to witness : the ending track of this double CD shows emotional/modal similarities to Epitome XII from Blut Aus Nord, in my opinion

Paragon of Dissonance is a - seemingly - robust fabric in which full musculature sonic monstrosities are handling the door knob to each other, but, to be honest the record does not even sound to be too lengthy to me, despite the program time of 1 hour 33 minutes of both discs combined. The reason for this is simple : the record investigates places time comes to a still in. Time. Is. Not. A. Factor. Herein.

You, I think, are depriving yourself from a significant musical experience if you listen to this album amidst submitting to your daily activities. Give this tightly realized mindhack attempt the decency to listen to it with your eyes closed and your hideous body being comfy, so there is only the music and you, and the experience that connects the two. Which is all it is about.

Here is the nervous system trick, which I have read in a book by Rudolf Steiner : if you want to tap into the higher worlds, then - among 23423423423 other things - you need to focus on the energy that connects your physical body with the soul. That energy is beyond your physical body, it's been around since the days of cavemen and Cleopatra, and still it is here, as a part of your being. This thought has hacked my existence for the better superbly, and I hope you find it beneficiary, too.

now BE FUCKING HORRIFIED and check back soon.

Rating : 9.2 / 10

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