Leadsucker - Burn review

Year : 2013
Genre : Hardcore Punk
Label : Toxic Highway Recordings
Origin : United States
Official site : > - here - <

"... oh my fucking god, REALLY??!" - were the first words I have articulated upon direct eye contact with the cover art of Leadsucker's "Burn". Then in the very next second I have realized that the Ohio based hardcore/punk ensemble just did to me what a hardcore/punk release worth calling one is supposed to do, at the first place. It did the politically ultra-anti-correct, the ultra-anti-establishmentarian and bitchslapped me with it, "JUST" to inquire how my soul and my overall cultural indoctrination feels about that.

What do you feel when an American flag - or ANY flag, for that matter - is burned in front of your very eyes? Do you realize that a flag necessarily is a non-physical symbol which ultimately can not be touched-, let alone eradicated by physical forces? Probably not. You are too politically correct for that. You are way too busy being fucking enraged when you witness your flag being burned, am I correct to suppose that? Then you make the Leadsucker guys a happy and efficient punk bunch! The record wants you to be enraged, or, at least, to point out the direction you could "safely" do that on - and it really pulls this feat off with a radical stunt of which you probably will have a strong opinion. Amen to that. Your opinion is overrated. You know why? Because it is yours. Now fight apathy or don't, then read on to know more about the music on the disc.

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Secular Plague - Secular Plague review

Year : 2012
Genre : Punk
Label : Zorch Factory Records
Origin : France
Official site : > - here - <

France's Secular Plague is a straight-out Sex Pistols re-incarnation that brings to you the original fishnet-covered tattoo ethos in larger than life-, shorter than a short sharp shock fashion. The album, while at heart is a proud and eloquent representative of the good old punkish "We Just Fail to Give a Shit" musical narrative, the steepest-, and pretty much only requirement of the genre is steadily met by the band, which is none other than to establish an organic connection of stone cold raw meat charisma between the instruments AND the lead singer, for whom the ensemble of the aforementioned elements serves as a legitimate - in Sex Pistolsian sense - musical backdrop. Don't be afraid, and be nothing else, either : the album sounds exactly as a Sex Pistols record should. Aggressive, clubroom-intimate, reeking a mood by which a bouncer's fist in your face is as likely as a second (third??) tongue in your mouth is, and the disc sure takes you into the deepest depths of the underground "nitelife", pardon "me French", you worthless gimp. Read on to find out more about this super-orthodox punk release.

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Enter Shikari - A Flash Flood of Colour review

Year : 2012
Genre : Whateverthefuckyouwantcore
Label : Ambush Reality, Hopeless
Origin : United Kingdom
Rating : 4.0 / 10

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Step 1. Imagine a music box filled with different albums representing each one of these genres : metalcore, post-punk, lightweight dubstep, drum and bass, trance, hell, even annoying-ass Elton John pop, inviting you to drop saliva to your favorite pink plusch hyppo you love to sleep with since you are 12. (In other words : since a year.)

Step 2. Hook yourself up with a portable mini nuke and a cup filled with the green goo of musical DNA enfusion, arm the mini nuke to 30 secs and put these things into the music box. Close the lid. Wait one minute. Put on your HAZMAT suit. Open the lid. Get the resultant hyper-hybrid of a disc. It will have Enter Shikari - A Flash Flood of Colour written on it, and your nervous system will be hijacked! Now, if you are 13 years old, it is your lucky moment to produce your catharsis-run for the honest bewilderment of all traditions, because, what you are holding in your hands is none other than your : oh, so favorite album of all remembrance. If you are past 13, then you still do NOT need to be a retrograde douché to steadily dismiss this record as

VAAAAAAAAASTLY

I mean :

VAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASTLY overrated.

This is what the cover art suggests, too, (- "V"-astly overrated - ) and it mimes a triangle only to please the highest levels of the Illuminati, I suppose. It would be supremely easy to be an utter douchebag with this release, because, frankly, as I just wrote, it sounds to me that it is the music of the rebellious acne-kit 13 years old, yet it has its share of acceptable-, even (relatively) enjoyable moments amidst the immense dosages of supremely superficial political rants administered in the copied tradition of the action figure-variant of Rage Against the Machine. Read on to find out more about this - in my opinion - overrated release.


"Spiritually", this record seems to attempt to emerge as an after-feel experiment of everything Clockwork Orange on an antitheses-register, as the band members seek to occupy the position of the Good Willed Villain, the Warm Hearted Brigand, the Good Outlaw, or whatnot. They are your popculture Robin Hoods, armed with a fraction of the talent of their role model inspirators. Unfortunately, they seem to lack the charisma of an American z-movie star who has just been denied the key role of a shampoo spot, - or maybe I fail to pick up on their charm - but, what the hell, these dudes still behave like they just pulled the galaxy out of their asses. It would be acceptable if they'd sport the collective charisma of primetime Rutger Hauer, but what I see, is angry (sex) dwarfs being pissed off at my garden. WOW! Promising sight, I must admit. Lemme bring my lé pink lingerie.

Lyrics? Oh yes, some claim that the lyrics are superb on this disc. Uhm. Naive little thoughts seeking to emerge to bombastic qualities, - doomed to Fail Legendarily, of course - like : - can't quote verbatim, thank God - "do not think that little groups can't change the world! They CAN! They DID before!" Oh dear oh dear.

The members of Enter Shikari are not quite ripe musicians yet, in my opinion, and they reign in the position of being free to conceal their deficits with pseudo-content generated by the state of the art production environment they rely on. You are, of course, free to suggest that I should chew on a flamethrower with your finger on the trigger for saying so. Currently, the Enter Shikari dudettes seem to me as enthusiastic fanboys and Kerrang! readers, indulging amidst their musical inspirations, accounting those with stock-talent levels in a professional production environment, being fixated on superficial, naive political rants about the ideological and economical state of the planet. Nothing beyond-, and nothing new when compared to what you have heard a 23423423 times before in this field.

Their flamboyancy is their biggest and greatest asset, and there are moments when they seem to go - only in character!! - Faith No More, and you know that I'm a Faith No More fangirl. I dare say that the lyrical behavior of this LP is more conscious POSE than thoughtful-, heartfelt CONTENT, and it shows no capacity I can pick up on that would offer anything above the platitudes of narrative political rants. Buuuuuuuuut. The music, for the most part, is not stellar on this release, okay?? It is, for the aforementioned most part, is above average at best, and seldom are the times it goes beyond that. You suck ancient Baphomet dick if you think it is great music all over. Same as with Meshuggah : if you don't like Meshuggah, you suck. Sorry. Deal with it.

I have little doubt that mainstream UK media will be absolutely baffled by the superflamboyant stylistic intensity brought on by these dudes, though. Mainstream UK media needs to bow down to-, and needs to worship its own products. Its own current Idols. Oh my God. What the world has come to since the brilliant-, still-kill evergreens of Rick Astley. I like Iron Maiden and Susan Boyle, too, so be quick when you kill me.

On Facebook, everyone is rockstar, therefore no one is. I feel every little group with an affection towards music, with a superb production team behind the squad, could bring the primer qualities of this release. Let me draw a parallel. The faultiness-, the tasteless pretentiousness of the dogma that everyone should be put on a TV screen that enjoys receiving cheap attention, becomes evident. Like : what the hell do you show those two idiots in the Britan's Got Talent TV show for? I show zero interest in witnessing their eventless faces and their anti-humorous, attention seeking behavior. I'm 100% sure I'm not the only one who feels this way about the matter, too, because I have asked others. I have nothing against them as human beings, of course. But don't attempt to serve them for me as elements of entertainment. They are NOT that, and they are not funny. Monty Python is funny. Mr. Bean is funny. Anything below THAT level, should be witnessed with sobriety and relentless, scientific rigor. In this day and age, the mildly talented is invited and free to invade the camera, and this is what they are doing to the inappropriate invitation of a pretentious production ethos. You are no longer free to say to somebody :  "Dude, you look like shit on screen. Only worse." This tendency is a terrible thing to witness. Why do you violate my awareness with those two?

Same thing : this is not great music, because it constantly seeks to pretend that it so much more than it actually is. This is music with promise in it, and its primer promise is its relentless urge to project myriad lights - ANY kind of light, for that matter - on itself. It is above average pop festival medley administered in the spirit of 238947237423423 different genres to serve out everyone out in a building like a cheap prostitute would do, only, this propensity can be regarded as degrading, because the elements served to you hardly are consistent in their quality.

Anyway, each song on this release is composed of about 25 segments seeking to serve out different genres like a prostitute that has been paid upfront, and none of these segments tend to last more than half a minute, tops. This album is a commercial product that is aimed to serve out the capricious appreciative "capacities" and harshly limited artistic horizons of the hormone-trodden 13 years old adolescent who thinks throwing up on a random face at a festival is a rebellious obligation that must be done once a month. As noted, the actual music is not all that sharp when witnessed for the respective ultimate worth of its myriad components, and the vocal style propagated on it makes me feel that the fronter needs a hug. Not necessarily by a bear, but. .. Just kidding. I'm looking forward for the next delivery of these dudettes, and word is, that their live shows are truly magnificent. Amen to that.

On a sentimental note : I realize that this is a harsh review, and I might write another one later on, to see if my initial views of this release have been changed. If you already have a radically different global percept of this LP than mine and you feel the urge to share it, then please feel free to educate me regarding my suspected deficits in the comment section below. Remember : I'm not against these guys, I simply think - currently - that they are vastly overrated. But I'm not 100% sure yet.

Rating : 4.0 / 10

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Book of Black Earth - The Cold Testament review

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

Rating : 8.8 / 10

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Short Sharp Shock - Problems to the Answer review

Year : 2011
Genre : Thrash Metal / Punk Crossover
Label : Earache
Origin : UK
Rating : 9.0 / 10

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UK based silence massacrists of Short Sharp Shock shoot 25 sonic shrapnels towards your direction, divided along 40 minutes of freshly presented thrash metal / punk mixture that is quite unlikely to miss you surely and totally, granted you did not forget to put a pair of ears on this morning.

The high track count may seem to be quite surprising for the playing time of the release, and the reason behind this is nothing else than a dormant, elegantly served justification of the band's name : the tracks indeed are short and sharp, and pack eloquently presented, well articulated musical furiosity without exception. Read on to find out more about this LP, that which has a perfect understanding of what it wants to accomplish and how it wants to come through as, managing to pull off its own timeless aspirations without you even noticing it, due to the constant lack of opportunity to process what just happened before you already find yourself in the emotional register the LP wants to command you into.



Short Sharp Shock's musical furiosity is much more different than that you would experience listening to recent death metal affairs, for example, as SSS fronter Foxy addresses his numerous frustrations in a manner that is very easy to relate to : he does not scream per se, he instead declares his disillusioned notions and thoughts in an extremely natural way, pretty much speaking on the top of his lungs as opposed to screaming. This style, while effectively negates the need, hell, even the dormant desire to deliver melodic lines throughout the vocal palette of the output, firmly establishes a mood that hits you in the face as utterly appropriate and well suited for this form of music. Short Sharp Shock wisely recognizes that there is no need for musical pitches in the vocal contribution when the emotion behind them already smashed them to shreds, anyway.

There is maybe one track on the entire LP on which Foxy sings effective pitches : "Foreign Body Plot", but you truly do not even need more. His performance is quite entertaining to listen to while he is producing a consecutive breakdown on each and every track to follow, and this entertainment value is persevered as result of Foxy's ability of keeping the last bit of sanity intact and non-tinkered with. That last bit of sanity always comes in handy for music, after all.

Integrity and well established balance are focal traits of this output. While the sound of this production is equally violent and raw, it also is very decently and carefully engineered, giving you a thrash metal / punk experience that is very easy to grasp unto and appreciate the moods it is taking you to. The instruments are clearly audible and reign in top form, diligently refraining from abusing each other, from placing you in a crowded mess of audible stimuli.

The primal portion of the output explore the good old fashioned neurotic rage and related dissatisfaction you probably want to - at least theoretically - immerse yourself in while cultivating and observing this genre, yet the Short Sharp Shock dudes exhibit a rather good taste in balance, throwing in a decent, playful and quite easily approachable instrumental with the title "Future Primitive" at the relative middle of the album. In Short, Sharp and Shocking form : you will be Shocked, how good it is. Go get it.

Rating : 9 / 10

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