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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Miss Myi - All Eyes On Us single review

Year : 2012
Genre : Pop Dance Electronic
Label : Independent
Origin : United States
Official site : > - here - <

Noise Shaft finally has the rabid opportunity to deliver its first single track review, and now it is official that it is none other than the brisk, bouncy debut delivery of Miss Myi, a Dancefloor Diva coming to make your body move in intentionally rhythmic fashion to her sonic declaration All Eyes On Us. My mission is relatively simple herein, as the song wholeheartedly relies on a four chord pop progression that packs the same capacity to carry the charisma of this style from the start line to the finish as it did from the very beginnings of risk free dancefloor entertainment. In other words, the flow of things is not a flow at all, it instead conveys the bouncy pop feel that you can safely showcase the dance moves you are comfortable with to, and that is that for an agenda, which is highly acceptable. Consider : you are armed with a beer and your most silly smile. Read on to find out more about this single.


What I like about this track is its propensity to wage a tender war on your receptors with a set of intentionally bloated-, ridiculously pink pop synths that convey the feeling of gargantuan djent guitars, only, on the opposite extreme of the imaginary sonic-rhetorics spectrum. As suggested, the song does not exhibit any urge to deviate from the four chords pop progression that equates to its relentless core, yet soberly limited ornaments are present to outline the anatomy and charisma of this simplistic, but elegant-efficient gravity well.

While the music is progressing, Miss Myi takes the opportunity to share her extroverted inner sentiments about the beauties and joys of receiving profound public attention in a dancefloor environment while occupying such a ridiculously hot body as hers is, - all this in a singing fashion - and the next logical step, not at all surprisingly, is to make a music video with hot chicks performing hot dance moves. Despite her young age, Miss Myi already has an impressive resume as a professional dancer, and this necessitates the video even more, I feel. You can try going wrong with hot chicks dancing to the camera, but you won't succeed. That stuff always sells, with or without music. Check out Miss Myi's All Eyes On Us single right here.

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Devin Townsend - Contain Us review

Year : 2011
Genre : Experimental
Label : Inside Out
Origin : Canada
Rating : 9.1 / 10

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Don't ask Devin Townsend if he considers his music important, because he will answer. Devin Townsend's favorite subject matter is Devin Townsend, which can be a beneficiary fixation to be immersed in, - especially if you are Devin Townsend - and especially so if it yields the promise of results of surfacing up music that reigns free of the vile will to relate to ANY! expectation.

Oh wait. What the fuck, my music seeks to not to relate to expectation!! Is it expected?? Is it acceptable? It sure is, Devin Townsend! YOU will be the leader of the Resistance!

If you are not familiar with the workings of this significant musician, then know this : Devin Townsend has been in the front lines of entertainment since decades, and, before he turned into a solo artist to diligently deliver the music he feels good about, already has made a name for himself by contributing to the solo deliveries of many significant performers, among these, Steve Vai comes to mind. One of Devin Townsend's relatively recent delivery, called Deconstruction, is not one that enjoyed positive reception from any other group than the most rabid Devin Townsend fan, which is acceptable, considering how the options of the most rabid fan are narrowed down to the choice of which direction to fall towards when Devine emerges to declare.

In a recent interview - which came out prior to the day of this review - Devin Townsend offers you a Legendarium of explanations - synonym : excuses - why Deconstruction had to be the way it is, and you can check out that interview here. There is something - deeply bizarre in this interview, in my opinion, though I wasn't able to check it out all the way, as it causes terrible discomfort in me, as I'm starting to feel embarrassed when I think Devin should. It makes me feel kind of shocked how Devin Townsend talks for minutes and minutes and minutes about his own creative process using a nervous system that seems so exquisitely self-fixated that it indeed has no other ultimate function to operate along than to shockingly entertain the expectation level of the mooooost important fan. And the moooooost important fan is : itself.

Hard is the work of the artist, so such, that it only can be rivaled by the tremendous effort needed to endure the whining of it. This is totally normal, because it is abnormal, and Devin Townsend, regardless how I am unable to watch this interview, might indeed need to be relentlessly fixated on himself to be able to deliver in his "hit me, Lover!" top form, and curing the man might be the equivalent of causing harm. Let me clarify what I find odd about all this. In another interview, which you will - I suppose - search for if you are curious, the interviewer asks Mike Patton if he agrees that Faith No More has shaped the face of metal music to this day. Patton laughs and says that he has nothing to add to this, his job is to put out the music, the rest is for the audience to decide. I find this train of thought-, this attitude very sympathetic. And what I see in the Devin Townsend interview I just linked, is the utter-, picture perfect antithesis of this sober approach. Once again : don't ask Devin Townsend if he considers his music important, because he will answer. Read on to find out more about Devin Townsend's latest Devin Townsend product.


Contain Us comes to you with a variety of extras including DVDs, a drawing with Devin's autograph and similar attentive similarities that are definite delicacies for the fan. As a body of musical work, Contain Us is a compilation delivery composed of the highlight pieces of four-, - ?logically enough! - previous Devin LPs. These are : "KI", "Addicted", "Deconstruction" and "Ghost".

With great sense of security - like pockets jingling - I can state that the actual music on this spin is relentless, strong, well balanced experimental delicacy, and, what I personally find especially good about it, is the fact that it does not exhibit any need to be "always heavy" or be "always this" and/or that. It genuinely and effortlessly free, and I have the hunch that Mr. Townsend wanted to imbue the release with this quality in a conscious fashion.

The variety is superb. The delivery has its fare share of thrillingly sub-melodic - meaning : not OVERLY melodic, thankfully - metal warfare, though notice this : the chorus of track four, called "Juno" is supersimilar to the chorus of Stone Sour's Mission Statement. Agree?

Ho Krill is a sci-fi song you hear in the lounge when you want to sign a record deal with a company fronted by a cyborg, while "Radial Highway" is a mixture between the True Blood theme song and the experimental formation Mr. Bungle. (Only the True Blood theme song and Mr. Bungle are still both better, sAUrry, Devin.) Next track, called "Watch you" brings to mind a combination of Depeche Mode and Yello, which is one of the most thrilling direction of menacing popular music, in my opinion. Anyone else thinks that Yello and Faith No More are super-similar in their mood-set? I would like to hear your opinion on this. And not "sorry I don't know Yello." Then kindly shut the fuck up. Up, the shut fuck, you must.

I'm kind of content with the initial sequence of promising electro-pseudo masturbation consisting of buffed-up 8-bit glitch/noise teasing Devin Townsend seeks to market - with success - as pure fucking gold on you via the intro to the 19 minutes Epic "Traestorz". It has promise, though gives little to nothing to topple an 1987 Aphex Twin cassette. At approximately 3 minutes, the track goes for a stall and seeks to exhibit drone-ambient qualities for a while. At 6:34, you are in a warped-ass Tron movie with an anime chick flailing her laser saber around your hide. At 7:31, Devin gives you your average 4/4/ techno drum machine and hasty to topple it with an introductory solo guitar. Then a brisk bass of bad intent joins in, and you are riding on totally legit rabid electronic club music, but nothing of the sort that could be regarded as innovative or unusual. No. It sounds to me like pretty conservative club music, and I finds its background story more interesting than the state it seeks to communicate bloom in. Luckily, after an efficiently and smartly presented transition, the piece arrives to a demented-ass anti-drum and bass sequence in its later part. This is a nice sequence with experimental drone elements worshiping the twisted chaos they are children of, yet, the 4/4 reek-of-sweat drum and bass drum loop does not do all that much to them, in my opinion. The point arrives when Devin Townsend realizes this, too, and gives you house music with the same idea in mind, and a female sci-fi vocalist joins in, too. Though I have nothing against the drum and bass sequence, this house sequence feels more focused and successful for what it wants to accomplish. Yet, keep in mind : the experience you will be subjected to is very akin to what you would experience in a dance club. Devin Townsend is your DJ, "only", he isn't just the mixer, but the creator of the music, too.

Spin-wrapper "Sticks and Stones" sounds like a nice song to drive a car to when you have a corpse or two in the trunk.

The second CD of the affair shows a more restrained pacing and a calmer initial sound, a percept that is about to be shattered then reaffirmed again and again as the opening tracks exhibit playful irregularities in their temper and mood. The initial strategy noticeably is to offer tracks that go easier on the ears than the character of the first CD treats them as. A narrative, lush-, but plastic direction - think of Squarepusher - is omnipresent that is colored and supported time to time by an almost Black Sabbathian comedy-sludge, so to speak, but you WILL take this parody-sludge serious, and this is why it works.

With track called "Addicted", all hell breaks loose and decides to stick around. I dig this song steadily, and here is why : in character, this is a simple, elegant Boney-M disco track, but it intentionally is presented with tormented, miserable sounds. How can you not love THAT.

"Numbered" sounds to me like a legit grunge classic with strong set of melodies and a very interesting sonic structure. I mean : it sounds terrible, and sounds so sexy while doing that. That was the intent, no doubt. This is very bravely constructed music, that dares to assume that it will be listened by someone who has the awareness to "get" what it wants. But, it does not give a shit if one does not. This is a very ripe behavior. In the midsection, the song goes black metal for a grim minute with some odd creative choices - like pumping the volume of the rhythm guitar up and down, did it give you an extra layer of hair on the chest, Devin? When measured to the deceitful black metal that interrupts the flow for a moment, the comeback of the central quasy-grunge melancholy is of exceptional efficiency.

Next track, "Timmy", sports the exact same "who tortures that fucking guitar" rhythm guitar the previous song utilized, and the main attraction the piece starts out with is some power metal man - who is this, The Devin Townsend??? - who sings about in not too convincing fashion. Luckily, it all is but a trick, because the chorus of the song is extremely powerful, and, knowing that you will be given it again, the - in my opinion intentionally - shit verse comes back with a relentless agenda to demand respect from you before giving you its proceedings once more.

"Stand" is a superb instrume(n)tal piece in which Devin Townsend lets you know that he knows how to sculpt legit riffs out of emotion, which is kind of what a massive part of metal is all about. A heavy, elegant mid-tempo instrumental with a particularly funny - albeit short - interlude that seems to summon the retro sci-fi vibes of Plan 9 from Outer Space. Naaah, you are not exactly sure you want to type "plan 9 from outer space" into Google.

"Juular" sounds to have the Bertolt Brecht going on, and, though I love that vibe as much as I fear it, I find this song to be pretty "meh". It sounds to me as a song Devin Townsend could not do anything with, and eventually he convinced himself that it kicks ass. Tip : nope, it just sucks it.

With the track "Brown Man", Devin Townsend gives out his spiritual rant about Devin Townsend's fear of heavy music, amen to that. You can hear him talk about closely related matters in the interview I have linked in the intro section of this review. This sounds to me like deeply disorganized, - tautology? - unfocused and masturbatory, moreover : this sounds to me like the shit you could expect if the creator would have zero inspiration and desire to deliver music, yet possesses all the tools at his disposal to attempt to hide-, to challenge this fact. Some gaps are not meant to be hidden, and especially not meant to be revealed.

"Madd at My Dadd" is pretty similar. I imagine these are the tracks from Deconstruction. Wow. It indeed is pretty uhuh.

"Flies" is the 3 minutes safety zone song to show you a momentary relapse of the schizoid tendencies the previous two tracks have been propagating. Yes, it is a nice song, - it is from Ghost, I imagine - but not exceptional at all. It could be on any pop artist's any pop album, and every bush hides a pop artist, you just have to look for the thing. This : not sufficient.

Neither is next one, "Call Management", which at least packs the admirable quality of coming across as a country song performed by a retired spaghetti western actor in a retirement home, and boy, it packs that genuine MIDI factor, too. What. Evvver.

Now is the time to rebel, because I refuse to offer an opinion on the last two tracks of this Devin Townsend Deluxe Box Set. In conclusion, know this : I have enjoyed this monstrous double full length compilation very much, and I do think that the best aspects of it are of truly top of the heat qualities. The only blemishes I think it is exhibiting are the annoying-ass schizo metal pieces on CD2, and I'm not entirely convinced by the "Ghost" contributions, either. Though, must admit that hearing Devin singing with a reverb preset applied on his vocals almost makes me shed a tear.

Almost.

Rating : 9.1 / 10

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Arch / Matheos - Sympathetic Resonance review

Year : 2011
Genre : Progressive Metal
Label : Metal Blade Records
Origin : United States
Rating : 8.5 / 10

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The moniker Arch / Matheos marks the reunion of original Fates Warning members John Arch - mythic vocalist - and renowned guitar abuser Jim Matheos, now supported by Bobby Jarzombek on drums and Joey Vera on bass.

Sympathetic Resonance sounds like a cybernetic Iron Maiden factory set to top-production capacity. This thing is spiky, angry and chuggy as a jogging rhino with its ass on fire, and, at the same time, also manages to define itself as utterly and fluently - on occasion, even pointlessly - melodic, courtesy of John Arch's powerful high frequency vocal presence.

There is so much going on right from the very start that it quickly becomes evident that the record is the result of insanely tall stacks of dozens, dozens and even some more dozens of meticulous working hours, fueling a monolithic testament that keeps relentless enough of a focus on its own nature to triumphantly reach the point on which virtual self-repetition gets enthusiastically greeted as progression. Nah, it was just a percept, and I'm not so sure about it on the third spin.

One thing though, is for sure : Sympathetic Resonance dismisses you immediately once you are not serious about wanting to know it for what it is, and it has 54 minutes of valid, but very elusive audible stimuli in store to get accustomed to first. Read on to find out how this monstrous release declares itself mightily as a space beacon black hole, one that sounds to be more than happy to suck itself into itself, and still feeling jolly good about that.


Sympathetic Resonance feels like a release that the members of this re-union have created for themselves, and there is not much if anything wrong with such a stance, because, if the creators can't enjoy what they are doing, than chances are that the listener won't enjoy it, either. The release is extremely quick and even more persistent to reveal AND repeat its focal mechanic and favorite flow of work, which is to unleash efficient, but - strangely enough - elusive swarms of sonic carpet bombing through a set of well researched mood patterns, and Arch's vocals are riding on those bombs with superb clarity and top of the heat siren-charm, no complaints can be given with a face to be found after. The release still sounds to

triumph valiantly,

or, if you want,

suffer legendarily

as result of being almost constantly ahead of itself in a relentless pursuit of its own super-complexity, bombarding the listener with a new theme on top of the prior new theme that just got abruptly and brutally executed at the spot you wish the band would have investigated further, instead. It is not that you have nothing to hold on to, quite the contrary : you have a MILLION and then some more things to hold on to all the time, but the record expects you to not to trust nor cultivate all too tender sentiments towards any one attraction of it, because what you have been holding on to, will vanish in the next moment. Guaranteed.

This flowing aspect of music, is of course, an absolutely valid one of it, but (one of) my favorite fixation(s) of trying to deliver organic connection between two autonomous musical sequences/entities, sounds to be pretty absent, but, one must admit, inventively absent from this album. Arch / Matheos simply fails to give a damn with two lost holes in it for your sentiments, and this creative behavior demands respect. You will never know what is it to hit you next, you only know that it is about to happen for sure.

All these notions may give you the false impression that they seek to reflect on the album's shortcomings, yet this is not the case at all. The above addressed things are not negative nor positive things of the spin, they are "just" the full musculature focal characteristics of it, traits that guarantee a long term relationship with the record, but have zero doubts whatsoever that you will

INVEST

a massive amount of time into this LP until you can claim a valid understanding of it. With solely chug-related, aggressive super-complexity and some elegant, tender caresses here and there laid out throughout track lengths well above the 10 minute benchmark, Sympathetic Resonance is a monster of a release that comes to you waving a kinetic sledgehammer and expects nothing less than the unconditional worship of the aforementioned chug-centered complexity taken to the extreme - toppled, of course, by top of the heat vocals of the siren kind. If you want to have proper sex with a monster, you need to learn its habits, and there are no shortcuts. Once again : this is recommended for the pairs of serious ears seeking to invest serious time into relentless chug-complexity toppled by soaring, clean vocals, but, for them, this is an immediate premiere choice.

Rating : 8.5 / 10

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Argus - Boldly Stride the Doomed review

Year : 2011
Genre : Epic Doom
Label : Cruz Del Sur Music
Origin : United States
Rating : 9.2 / 10

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At this very moment, Argus' Boldly Stride the Doomed is not featured on Wikipedia, nor the encyclopedia has any notable awareness of the very existence of this top tier metal squad. This is an unacceptable situation. This is not only an embarrassment on the collective psyche, but a pretty well defined one at that, so now is the time to attempt to draw more attention to the musical ripeness and elegant power this release defines for 56 minutes.

Simply put, and, according to (Yours, Truly's) theory, Argus makes the music that 999 - and not 666 - of 1000 doom metal bands originally/secretively are going for, but, their end products fall more and more distant from the then-formless instinctual aspirations, as result of being bombarded by compromises of various kinds during the creative process. Only a functional approximation of the original intent is left then, because that exactly is as much as it remained of it, after being eaten alive while being born. Aua.

Argus though never, not for one second, exhibits any suspicious intent to serve evident deceit or leftovers on your plate. Instead, everything is top tier, unalloyed, clearly and gratefully decipherable metal music content, and, what seems to be even more important than that, Boldly Stride the Doomed reigns totally free of all urges to scare / pressure you, regardless how it chooses to incorporate the most relevant and most weighty human questions into its primer interests. The release does not judge, it does not suggest - it reports.

On Argus' latest LP, metal gets resonated through a noticeably peaceful BUT fervently curios spiritual stance, one that soberly reveals a musical field that draws elegant, dainty patterns by sledgehammers, always being ready to deliver one of the flamboyant charms or luscious dangers it has in store for you as its primer components. Read more to lighten the immensity of the embarrassment on the collective psyche, that which is formed by the unacceptably low awareness level of this fine record's mere availability.


Boldly Stride the Doomed is as serious as music can get while threading along in the company of drums, bass, twin guitars and a singer - only this time, the singer tore an illegal space-time rift into the fabric of cosmos, and topples the fine instrumental cake with vocal presence emanating from the mighty throats of a Sonic Wargod!!!4

(note : the "4" at the end of the latter sentence is deliberate, and it serves the well tamed function to reveal my level of enthusiasm.)

While Argus' music emerges as spotless metal even when Kermit is rapping on the tracks, lead singer Butch Balich gives you the vocals that do a whole lot of kinds of "just" justice to the favorite attributes of this musical language. While it is totally common to attempt to reveal epic determination in an intentionally rhythmic and dramatic fashion in order to come through as epically determined, Butch Balich plays an entirely different ball game, simply because of the size of the balls he plays that game with.

This ex-Penance member gives you the raw animal vocal traits while he is worshiping the current melody as God, and his midrange packs more than sufficient power to - as suggested elsewhere on this here site - shatter neighboring icebergs at will, let alone how he keeps his stupendously ballsy vocal timber intact even when he is going into the higher registers. In a zone your good enough metal singer delivers among signs of not being entirely comfortable, Butch Balich shatters the icebergs. But, the higher registers on this spin are mainly used to sing a one note song of rage - copyright by Dave Mustaine - and are not serving as a basis to conduct the entirety of the vocal themes on. Higher pitched, real deal MELODIC screams are often used on the release to emphasize key elements of the lyrical context, while the major portions of the narrative itself tend to take place on the above addressed, exceptionally powerful midrange. And there is a whole lot of delicious narrative going on, from legit existentialist/spiritual pondering, rhyming nicely with the developments of both ancient and recent science - track called The Ladder - to desperate, nevertheless dignified and bitterness-free prayer - track called Wolves of Dusk - or a blaming finger in the collective face, - track called Curse on the World - and others that remain to surprise you. All in all, the funny thing simply is that Butch Balich does not sound to have a vocal zone he is not naturally gifted to deliver mightily on, and the raw charisma presence his contribution imbues these tracks with, are pretty "beyond precedent, at least until The Butch Balich did that, that is" - level.

From an instrumental point of view, Argus gives you 10 crystal clear renditions of the ripe, exceptionally intact, and, as noted, also deliciously dangerous musical field so keenly frequented by the members. "Dangerous" in a sense that these elements are out to affect you without notice, but they never try to harm you, because Argus' music "simply is" beyond the intent by a galaxy or two of causing harm in its listener. Causing harm requires no true effort. While the most persistent and most pronounced mood of the release doubtlessly and wholeheartedly belongs to good ol' fashioned impending doom, it majestically reigns beyond the levels of taking itself all that lethally serious, and so it emerges free to reveal a kind of legit beauty that expresses itself 100% free of all saliva, slime and the usual average smarmy stuff you can so easily and so cheaply come across on other albums to have your spiritual contact comfort fix shoveled down on your astral throat nice and proper. It always is interesting when you hear a monster talking about the fact that it (she/he) secretly is having a heart along the claws and jaws, and this vibe, this tender monster reigns ubiquitous on the spin, without any aspiration present on its part to toll or crave your sympathy for the state of existence it is in. Dignity, beauty, and the persistent possibility of getting your ass handed to you at any moment, are all key factors of this exceptionally intact album. Argus' Boldly Stride the Doomed has everything AND beyond you ever hoped to come across during a metal spin. It is a musical report delivered from a field of reference that deems nothing as having no right to exist, and it always chooses to enter and inspect, as opposed to chickening out, and reject. Boldly Stride the Doomed has what your ears want, and also

it has the BALLS.

Rating : 9.2 / 10

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Deceased - Surreal Overdose review

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

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

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


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

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

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

Rating : 9.5 / 10

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Trivium - In Waves review

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

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

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



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

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

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

Rating : 7.5 / 10

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Toxic Holocaust - Conjure and Command review

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

Rating : 6.5 / 10

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Yob - Atma review

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

Rating : 8.2 / 10

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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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Consfearacy - Consfearacy review

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

Rating : 8.6 / 10

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Inside You - That Occurs Around Us review

Year : 2011
Genre : Gothic - Industrial
Label : CD Maximus
Origin : Russia
Rating : 8.2 / 10

Fellow countrymen of mixed martial arts WarGod Fedor Emelianenko bring you some quite properly presented mixture of industrialized goth vibes, that which, fortunately enough, has nothing at all to do with an intent to resonate registers of gloom, sorrow and related sentiments. Instead, Inside You's That Occurs Around Us transmits from the more angst-filled, nevertheless, playful and strangely beautiful pole of the goth palette, cultivating a mixture that is akin to what you would expect if to marry Rammstein with Sisters of Mercy. This Russian approach of freshly presented goth fury comes to you with a true passion behind itself, resulting in 51 minutes of a pleasantly varied experience gravitating around an easily decipherable, energetic goth rage. A goth rage that has the evident agenda to bath you in feelings of hot and playful intensity, utterly refraining from theoretic means of turning you into a hollow stack of flesh and bones, having abused your awareness and raped your soul good and proper.



The output features two songs sung in Russian language, but do not be afraid, or not that much, anyway : these two tracks are at the end of the album, and they do not at all lack the impact characterizing the first nine contributions. As noted, it is quite evident that Inside You has a true passion for this style, and they grasp a solid understanding of how this shape of music is able to deliver its intricacies in the most efficient manner : the guitar is thick and quite sci-fi sounding, hardly, if ever addressing its desire to go on an autonomous stroll on its own, instead it serves as the ever-present and welcomed solution to establish a melodic pulse that is ready to ensue into a wall of sound when need dictates. Synths and various industrial elements are widely used throughout the record to establish a convoluted mass of sonic richness along the intensified portions of the release.

Intensity and sanely positioned musical routes between these intense periods are essential building blocks on the LP : Inside You, fortunately enough, has more diverse of an understanding of their favorite genre than going slow and going furious, so the readiness and playfulness they chase the grooves around with, guarantees, in fact, a surprisingly well-varied and freshly presented experience, coming through as a constant, integral vibe not a tad less mature than what the genre's top of the heat has to offer.

From a vocal point of view, one has a hunch that there are numerous vocalists on their respective hunt here, but it comes off as a fortunate development, as all singers have some audible desire to declare passionately, nevertheless staying away wisely from doing extreme things of ridicule with their vocal cords, like some metal corish "me mummy neva luhuvd meheeee" affair or what not.

The majority of the output comes to you along fast, nevertheless quite cleverly varied registers, with an occasional down tempo delivery being spiced on the top of the whole fabric. These slower deliveries, too, have the same passion and love for the genre as proper fuel behind them, so rest assured that they won't disappoint, and their role will be utterly appreciated when Inside You unleashes the charming form of goth angst in the very next moment.

Rating : 8.2 / 10If you liked this article, check out my music

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