Djentagram - Thirteen by Thirty-Six review

Year : 2011
Genre : Djent with Death Metal tendencies
Label : Monkey Robots Inc.
Origin : United States
Rating : 8.5 / 10

Djentagram' Thirteen by Thirty-Six - don't bother, I have made the calculation already and it is not 666, or is it? - brings to you djent mayhem macabre to make you sway and throw your possessed body around in odd rhythmization. It seems to be evident at this point that some people do not know what djent is or embracing tender misconceptions on it, so let's attempt to cover the matter. The "djent" is the mere sound of a heavily muffled guitar pattern, - the word attempts to imitate the sound, even : "djent!, dje-dje-djennnnt!, djent!-djent!" - that is created by strumming that pattern or note in - usually - highly violent fashion, producing a percussive, chuggy /djenty sound on the guitar. These djent guitars pack 7 strings if not 8, or, you can drop your tuning to produce that deep, grumpy sound with a funny wobbly bottom string.

This only is half of the djenty fun though, because djent as a subgenre always looks for the groove of the illegal rhythmization conceived in any-, but intentionally demented time signatures. If you have no honest idea of what the fuck is going in, but it sounds superb and complex and chuggy and djenty nevertheless, than chances are that you are hearing exigent djent. If you have another thing to add to this, please don't hesitate to comment, or, if you do : don't. Ladies and djentlemen, let's talk about this Djentagram release.


Djentagram's latest is 35 minutes of rabid stimuli, and, only six and a half of those will have vocal contribution, the immense majority is instrumental warfare with equal emphasis placed on the reveal the odd rhythm of the djent while having a death metalish mid-pace structure at the core. The first two minutes of track number 3 is pretty sick, in my opinion, and it also is the mark I personally think this record really starts to roll on from. It is unforgiving, deeply demented djent disturbance of which you can only have the punch-, and not the carrying-heft of, because it reigns in the constant position of slipping away from you after steamrolling you in a loop, and the listening experience is born in real time as you witness its way grinding you down, having exactly zero concern for your comfort.

This 30+ minutes of humorless djenting, thank God and Co., won't relent until the spin reaches its conclusion, and the band exhibits fruity cunning at throwing in variation of dynamics and intensity to deviate from the main directions with. Among these deviations, you will find tight-, lawfully rhythmized groove metal as 1:40 minutes of sober interruption, and, following this nice sequence of Pantera-warfare, the entropic djent dementia emerges again as particularly efficient, triumphantly and destructively revealing its corrupting nature right after music that JUST made sense for a fragile moment. I have some caveats though, and I'm not afraid to whine about them in pink lingerie, either. The editing work of the release is pretty sloppy at the climax. The tracks are getting a volume fade-out from out of effin nowhere, so the next song can start. To topple this abyss, - TUKK! - any consecutive track of the djent section always comes in as the direct continuation of its direct predecessor, so a row 2-second breakdowns could have eliminated this blemish.

The current solution is lame, lame, lame, and it is pretty lame, too. It is such a lame solution that you can't help but appreciate that the producer had thick enough of skin on his face to attempt to get away with this. Mind you, it is not really THAT disturbing, but it makes its evident that the band did not have the juice left to get away from a build in convincing fashion, so the respective components of the most relevant segment of this release never arrive to a conclusion. They "just" superbly-, djently - not gently, that would be way too who is hillarious, haha, ahaha. - rumble for an eternity, and then they are killed with an abrupt, super-radical volume fadeout. Lame enough to become a twisted kind of funny, too.

To be honest, one could whine around in pink bath lingeries about one's epic caveats regarding how the tracks get served no justifiable end sequences, and now that I have done that, too, the only thing that remains to be done with this release is to listen to it, because it deserves that.

Rating : 8.5 / 10

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Megadeth - Thirteen Th1rt3en review

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

Buy it now

I like Megadeth and it will remain so even if the band decides to put out records with silent sermons on them from now on. Dave Mustaine is the creator of relentless bursts of brilliant songs, - let alone solos, you can have much of Symphony of Destruction's solo, but you can never have enough of it - and maybe it is just "normal" - bleh! - to put out an above average record from time to time. I can imagine that many fans will flame this LP right from the cover of it, stating : "The cover art, with the notorious Megadeth lich giving you its back, marks a conscious detachment from the meta-expectation resonated by the fanbase, as a hive entity. Oh yeah? Then let me rebel on high octane, because, frankly, I think the cover art is great, but I mainly am here for the music. So, let's see what Megadeth brings you with 13 in 11.


Opening track Sudden Death sounds to be an OK enough-type starter declaration, which does not at all mean that you must miss out on the profound sings of anti-inspiration the song's fabric exhibits. Notice the anatomy of the main riff. A cheap construction, to be honest. Fret abuse committed in the name of All Things Chromatic, only the "name" itself failed to accept the invitation, making this pneumatic computer riff pack everything but a playful function.

Public Enemy No. 1 is the hilarious anti-Rocky song of the '80s, and it has charm written all over it, just don't remove the clothes from this one. A verse with an interesting, odd rhythmic structure in the vocals is the peak moment of the track in my opinion, yet the chorus, unfortunately, is not all that tight. If the actual chorus would be a pre to introduce a catharsis the song in my opinion is lacking of, then I'd be sold without question. But right now, this is a song with a much more muscular verse than it can offer as its chorus. The chorus conveys a feeling of restraint, whereas you'd expect the mofo the song is about to embark on his rampant run. Absolutely great, classic Megadeth verse, and strange chorus. It reminds me of the staggering song Moto Psycho from Megadeth, which features a chorus that sounds surprisingly scant and uninspired to me, compared to the standards of the band. "Every! Body! izza! Moto! Psycho!" Me too, me too!!

The next track, Whose Life It Is is directed to the angst-fueled metalcore generation, probably. Dave Mustaine's start when he sings : "ooooooo" is kind of disturbing, I think. The song itself is a risk free microwave thrash statement, and its tools to garner the appreciation of your angst-ridden nervous system are limited down to the act of abusing good willed power chords who have no sin regarding the matter at all. It is an abuse in the sense that the melody on top of them is very lackluster, in my opinion. Dave asks with a pretended adolescent angst : "Hey, just whose life is it, anyway?"

Hey, just whose record is this, anyway?

Simplistic thrash mechanics, terribly submissive lyrics. Dave submits to the metalcore angst. "You hate the way I wear my clothes, you hate my friends and where we go, just whose life is it, anyway?" ... and so on and so on. Just whose lie is it, anyway? A present from Dave Mustaine to the apotheosis of metalcore frustration. Dave. YOU : don't need to do THIS.

Next track, We The People has this political rant-theme going on. Retrograde TV show metal riffage, with lyrics coming through the comfortably constrained armchair-rebellion register. The song has a frightening zoo metal vibe at its core, and, if you would be listening to this track with pop instruments, this one would be a Boney M piece the band - Boney M - decided it is not worth including on an LP after given a second thought for the matter. The song ends with a tight, short instrumental interlude, but this is a cheap attempt to bloat the virtually non-existent raw charms of a pretty pale delivery.

Guns, Drugs & Money starts out frighteningly enough, because a song with such a title invites grim suspicion right away. Fortunately, this caveat is eliminated on spot, because this song is one of the more stable installments. My most fond sentiment of it is that of a cute detective cartoon riff, on top of which Dave is singing : "Guuhhhhhuuns, Dhruuuugs, and muhhhhhhhuuuneeey". Oh, man. What about the tits, the tits, the tits, the tits, the tits, the tits, the tits, the tits, the tits, the tits, the tits??

(.Y.)

Never Dead starts out with atmospheric civil war drums, complimented later on by the first truly proper moment of the spin, finally! Superb rumble and killer "we don't give a shit"-grade riffing prepare the sonic domain for a classic Megadeth chorus that has that evil catchy factor. Tight verse, superb chorus, and an elegant instrumental break in the middle. A thoroughly fine piece with great pacing all over it.

With the next track, New World Order, Dave Mustaine offers his input on the Illuminati. Hello, Hollow One! The song has a restrained, tasteful structure that revolves around three primal sequences, and the short instrumental jam that lasts from the middle to the end, makes this one a better looking track than the majority of its direct predecessors.

Next track, Fast Lane, is another variation on Dave Mustaine's rampantly immense speed fixation. You can't pick the speed theme and crash and burn, pha. The riffing is sexily old school and orthodox, finds great pleasure in the resonance of the continuous chug. Stoic verse, a simple but truly efficient chorus both guarantee another acceptable routine cabaret thrash track. With 20 seconds remaining from the song, the band engages full power efficiency via a furious tempo to wrap the piece up, and this technique - a technique is a trick that works - to make you believe that you have listened to radically intense music, has no other chance than to work indeed, so there you have your 20 seconds of crazily intense music included on this release. Rinse, repeat, my love.

The track called Black Swan could be an OK-type Megadeth song that has that bluesy-, moody tint in its elegantly infectious melodies. Oh wait. I lied. Not entirely. In nature, elements of this song are sewn of the same exquisite fabric that superb statements like She-Wolf or 1000 Times Goodbye are composed of, yet, other elements of it are pretty rigid, and sound more like routine architectural works than legit sonic reflections of inner lamentations.

Wrecker unleashes a sense of restrained, playful female-bashing, and it is all right, as long as you adore women as the most peculiar creatures on this planet, and I'm pretty sure Dave Mustaine does that, too. Women rule, you know, and they are sexier than you. The song is an integral whole in character, yet its fabric is very simplistic, in fact, it is safe to say that it is rudimentary. The riffing your hear in this song is the background music for a Nascar DVD's menu selector feature, for a tender fuck's sake!

Millenium of the Blind reminds me of Guns 'N Roses' Civil War, only that song is more balanced and has much more weighty character. This track has a teenager-metal chorus, primarily assuaged by simplistic 4/4 pummeling , which is toppled by Dave's heavily processed narrative. Another track in the record's body that offers very limited supply of things worth revisiting, in my opinion.

In Deadly Nightshade, Dave Mustaine is your evil circus master in this archetypical cabaret thrash metal installment, and he invites you to enter a world only the brave and determined dares to frequent as a valiant visitor, or something like that. Once again, very standard, monotone 4/4 pummeling with unforgiving powerchord abuse, kicked in the ass for good measure by the ugly foot of a pale, enervated chorus. This song reeks Motley Crue from 1989, and I'm pretty sad about that, too.

Titular track, 13, is a spiritual rant about the paradigm of Nietzschean eternal return, but, if you do not feel like losing your mind right now, - which is a terrible thing to lose - then know that the titular song remains a risk free ballad at the end of the album. As for its main mechanics, it mainly revolves around a shy chromatic melody with which Dave's vocal lead collides in a sober, but not at all too exciting fashion. The mid section brings you TV show riffing for some bars, then, you will get the chorus in standard mid tempo. By that time, chances are that you will be asleep already, so, who cares, anyway. With a core riff that has quite limited capacity to intrigue in rapid succession, the titular track also tells much of this album. This song, 13, would have been the track you lose attention during on a stronger Megadeth release. At personal perceived value, Megadeth's latest has many solid moments, - none I currently perceive as instant kills - and a tad too much of the zoo metal nonsense to regard it as another true gem in the band's already timeless resume. The album feels a bit unbalanced. Whenever the band engages mid tempo on this album, you have that detective cartoon vibe, I think. Well, 13 is not always the lucky number, and the lucky number is not always 13.

Rating : 6.5 / 10

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