Voyager - The Meaning of I review

Year : 2011
Genre : Pop Metal
Label : Sensory Records
Origin : Australia
Rating : 6.5 / 10

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Voyager's The Meaning of I is so diligently and devotedly polished that it will reflect all your cautious expectations back by its sheer pop glitter and chromium rasta-tentacles, leaving you sufficiently blinded - tautology!! - for a moment or two so it can channel its own rendition of risk-, and sugar-free, plastic-pink sci-fi metal into you. More precisely : sci-fi reggae pop metal. This record definitely sounds to have a pop / reggae feel going on, and, while one does not at all need to seek out any caveats to whine comfortably along regarding this notion, Voyager's The Meaning of I does not come through as a particularly strong pop metal release. The "official" meta-consensus is, that this is - hahahaha! - progressive metal. Wow, really! GTFO, I'm begging you. Symhony X's cybernEPIC Iconoclast HAS progression. Dream Theater's latest declaration HAS progression. Voyager and progression? No, you have been deceived. Voyager has Dr. Alban robot singing on top of synth-pop heavy metal music you have heard in the arcades in 1997, more on that later.

But, being pop metal is not necessarily bad, I'm still waiting to be touched by the genre, and I'm not at all opposing it for the sheer act of opposing it. Voyager's The Meaning of I comes through as "uhuh, OK" grade pop metal content, but a number of traits that become more and more irritating, are doing an efficient job at giving you twitches at both corners of mouth while this spin is declaring itself. Do the collective psyche a favor and scrutinize the z-grade Photoshop cover with diligence, then read on to find out more about this pop metal output, or don't.


The one and only problem with this release, - a problem though which is persistent to stick around - is that the songs on this LP - I truly am not happy for having to say this - ain't that great at all. They are mechanic exercises at creating pop accessibility with instruments of metal that are reflecting the same robotic feeling as the release's vocal contribution. I'm sorry to shatter your world, but. If you are humbly, dutifully, enthusiastically blown-, even bloooooooown awaaaaaay by the record, then know that this is the result of the release having no other agenda than to serve your nervous system out with microwave-consumption pop metal stimuli that has only super-mild creative efforts in it, and sure, this is a blatant claim. This is not a claim with a right to exhibit any hope of its validation without justification, and here is the attempt of that : some compare this release to Anubis Gate's super-slick self titled album, and I personally find this comparison highly staggering, even sorrowful. I dare say that Voyager sounds very shallow when compared to Anubis Gate. It is no doubt that AG is packed with high quality-, diligently researched and superbly realized MELODY, and when I consider Voyager after hearing Anubis Gate, uuuuuhh. Here is the thing : Voyager's latest registers as a metal pop festival nominee when compared to the entertainment factor of the music of the Danish dudettes.

People blown away by this record, please. Please? Don't believe your ears or fix the fucking things?? Get Anubis Gate's self titled and THEN it is OK if you are blown away. Blown away by THIS Voyager album is not being blown away for "real", it is your nervous system receiving very cheaply created signals to make you believe that your lazy fucking ears are graced already. Final tip regarding the introductory section of this review : Anubis Gate's self titled album kicks asses galaxies bigger than Voyager's latest ever fathomed having hopes to approach.

Guys, let's talk about the music.

The first track, Momentarily Relapse of Pain, is quick to invite grim suspicion almost right away. The track - and the album, logically enough - starts out with a superb polyrhythm that does not make sense at all and still sounds absolutely great, but the magic is to wear out soon, because the singing starts. OMFG! The singer dude sings like a robot that is not ALLOWED to commit mistakes. He is not allowed to include human emotion, either, if it conflicts with the first Asimovian Directive to deliver mathematically precise pronunciation and articulation. Listen to this articulation. This is so 111% precise, that it sounds unnatural. It sounds mannered. The lyrics are pretty boring, too. The singer must feel utterly empty indeed, because he needs to state "I feel so empty" four times in a row during the midsection. Hm. Maybe you should try to come up with a song when you are not feeling so empty, too.

Next track called Stare Into the Night starts out as an atrociously non-inventive zoo metal piece, while sporting a sense of warped carnival music, but, thank God & Co., a solid chorus comes in to save a minute of the day. One must point out that once the chorus revealed itself, the zoo metalish verse gains somewhat of a spine, as well. The chorus has a relative reggae-vibe going on, but, without the restrained rhythmization so common to that genre.

Seize the Day is your everyday average attempt to deliver a metal hymn that is supposed to give you an immediate spiritual level upwards, but, for me, it gives just a laugh I prefer to conceal into a cough, - failing now that I admit - and must say this sounds like the music I'd expect from a romantic metal-candidate at a pop festival in 1986 or so. The sound is relatively current and full, sure, - but mind us that many elements, including synthetic guitars, are being utilized in the background to make us believe that we are genuinely graced by evidently relevant content - but the composition is relatively weightless, even when considered as pure cheese, and the lyrical content is sentimental, risk free soul-flatter formed to assuage the one who is so easily can be assuaged once fat hope is served, the one who is still waiting for her/his very best hour to finally start something by. Well, Ladies and Gents, if you did not yet seize the day, then I can imagine THIS song will make the necessary mindhack on you! < - ill willed irony. This sounds to be a filler song with not too much-, if any ripe intent behind it, saved for an attempt to summon the determined epicness factor - and the hidden cheese - of anime power metal.

The track called Broken is more successful, and it also sounds to have this Dr. Alban vibe, which is a somewhat ubiquitous feel on the spin, supported by the persistent pop feel that coats the compositions into a sense of risk free accessibility. Broken also brings to mind Billy Idol's Heroin from 1992. This does not sound any more current or any more rich than that though, to be honest.

I can't tell anything about the track called The Pensive Disarray, because we - the track and me - have failed to do anything to each other during the three attempts we had at each other. OK, I see a dude in 1983, contemplating in his solitary bed with his sorrowful face on, lamenting about his Dream Woman, and suddenly I realize that he probably is a miserable grandmaster-turd, and then I lose interest in the picture.

The track called He Will Remain sounds like a prayer, and it could have been a splendid filler song you love to skip immediately, but the singing is not OK in it, in my opinion. Mind you, I'm not trying to be a troll all over the place, the singing is just COLD, in my opinion.

The consecutive, titular track starts out with top notch rumble - finally, for a tender fuck's sake - and the delivery is quick to elegantly summon a vibe similar to that of the Killer Instinct theme song, only more complex and with more extreme grit. Nevertheless, this is the same pop-metal made for immediate microwave consumption, now paired with Dr. Alban-like singing being taken to a new level of misplaced confidence. I like the thick, robust instrumental intro section of the song, and any part of it that does not have that cold, over-articulated singing. This titular track has a ripe structure and a nice flow, but also has metal core screaming in it. No worries, it only lasts for 2 bars, so it reaches its end before you could produce a nervous breakdown in peace.

The track Iron Dream is a tribute to Peter Steele Metal God / Human Demigod, and also is one of the most solid tracks on the release, one which Mr. Steele himself probably gives the nod on.

No, he did not object.

The pop vibe herein works, because the composition itself is : solid.

Fire of the Times once again gives you the metal pop festival in 1986 feeling, but the super-polished sound makes it tolerable. (For a minute or two.) The chorus of the song is not so bad, - not so stellar, either - but a lackluster, lazy verse puts a whole lot of unpleasant cosmoses on its shoulders. And, once a guitar solo kicks in and you think there will be something more relevant happening for a change, it turns out that the solo is 2 bars long, WTF!? And the average pop chorus comes back. Whattt. Evvver.

She Takes Me features kind of dignity-lacking singing of the "look, Girl, this is how I feel deep inside, look!!"-type with the so well known powerless sighs at the very end of the sung words that I think a woman is secretly disgusted of, the powerless sighs that truly commands hairs on a male's body to arrange themselves into Godlike Awareness Mode. Not a good thing, not in this aspect. This is a below average pop song - below average lullaby if you are a troll and proud of that - performed with metal instruments.

It's Time To Know tries to summon the Metal Elton John and succeeds masterfully, making use for the 32623786238623862386th time from the fact, that, it summons an instant sense of the cheapest epicness when you leave a triad of notes intact at the top, and change the root note/bass note around.

Congratulations, you have just lost a point!

I admit I utilized this trick once, too, after watching a totally unrelated, great instructional video from Guitar God Frank Gambale. He is Australian, too, like this band, and if you don't know Frank Gambale's work yet, you need to check him out ASAP, he is gigantic, and knows parts of music even music is ashamed of when they are revealed.

The last track, Are You Shaded? has this Evil VS Good thing going on, with glimpses - and JUST glimpses - of every possible sub-genres of extreme metal being thrown into this mix that seeks your appreciation like a dehydrated camel seeks rain in the desert. In a matter of ten seconds, you have death metal growls on top of thrash metal drums, riposted by the robot folk singing. Uuuuh. Not today, thanks. As hinted, the main attraction of the song is a chorus bordering on mystical folk/pop, with solid moments of mechanical, cybernetic fury that the album would sound way more convincing with, if to feature more - like : MUCH more - of that. This is a superbly produced, average plastic-pink pop metal record. At best. It reeks accessibility, but it reeks that so much that the "it" itself is nowhere to be found. It is KIA, baby.

Rating : 6.5 / 10

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Anubis Gate - Anubis Gate review

Year : 2011
Genre : Progressive Rock/Metal
Label : Nightmare Records
Origin : Denmark
Rating : 9.3 / 10

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Anubis Gate opens up and blows you a million space miles away by the incoming melodic power it invites through itself, but don't be all that afraid - who has the time to fear, anyway? - as the sonic stimulus will stick with you, courtesy of carrying you on its wings while having its sublime run.

This release has the embedded mark of superstrong focus written - almost - all over it, as the content is beyond doubt a vault of legit, relevant harmonic/melodic sculptures, constructs that reign completely free of stone-orthodox compositional techniques and the closely related GTFO-factor. Anubis Gate is at heart accessible, yet truly soulful music with legit life - oxymoron!! - in it, and brings nothing less than elegant reflections of these assuaging facts. Read on to observe how this affair glorifies the epitome of thoughtful melody with the finely calibrated instruments of sci-fi metal.


Anubis Gate sounds thick, meticulously polished, and eloquently varied. The meat-mass of the content though does not show all that much interest to wrap itself around the everyday average rendition of "metal". It does much more interesting things with its monstrous meat-mass, instead. As hinted, the scientifically sculpted, eloquent and exigent melody is of key importance on this LP. If you are a proper snob for exigent melody and harmonic structures AND a proud of that, rest assured that Anubis Gate brings your way on this LP a whole packet of delicious content to soak your starved ears into. The character of the instrumental sound is beyond all doubt metal, and the mean, fat, down-tuned, rumbling kind of it too, yet this rumble is rode by a vocal presence that bravely and magnificently deviates from the unwritten rules of "proper" - PHA! - metal singing.

Former bassist-, now lead vocalist Henrik Fevre has a pleasant timber in his pipes with a solid range to them, and the power needs no extra invitation cards to join the fray, either. The record has clean vocals, exclusively, vocals that border on pop and kick your lousy ass proper nevertheless, and this does not sound to be the result of a lack of capacity to deliver along the orthodox metal channels of rasp/siren-mode/growl/whatnot. This album simply does not need these techniques, since its themes, along with the granite-solid instrumental contribution, are reflecting a pretty integral spiritual stance, one which by sheer, honest anti-interest, negates the need to summon/channel the angst-driven methodologies of the genre. This is not an angry album at all. This is a honest album, and that is the most a record can ever hope for.

The compositions tend to have a quite healthy length to them, which gives the band a suitable amount of real estate to offer solid intro sections and bravely varied middle jams to surround the respective cores of each declarations with. Anubis Gate is not all that concerned with being heavy for the sake of being JUST that, managing to acquire mere heaviness via inflating - in a positive way, mind you - the characteristics of the harmonic structures. This is a truly valiant record in the sense that it never allows itself to stray away from its own-, quite high expectations cultivated and superbly satisfied in the compositional department, - meaning : yes, the songs themselves are slick - and music herein always gets its abundant benefits, having an audibly great and grateful time for the constant efforts being put into entertaining it for what it - music - is.

Anubis Gate is an intelligently serious and seriously intelligent record, but not over-emoted, - only on one occasion : "Uuuuuse yoooour eeeeeyes!!" I promise I will. Now calm down and come here, Henrik. You sound like you need a hug. The lyrical themes mostly are focused on thoughtful - and quite soulful, too - observations regarding the human condition, and there are a whole lot of things to consider on that field, wouldn't you agree? It is quite safe to say that the written contribution on Anubis Gate's latest manages to exhibit ballsy poetic qualities, simply by grabbing the deepest questions by their throats, and not being afraid of any answers this explicit act may yield. It is evident that there are true, legit private investigations loaded into these lyrics as fuel, and these worded thoughts and feelings are very realistic and pleasant to relate to, because they reflect deep aspects of the human condition that humanity as a hive-entity shares and experiences, but the individual is a chickengirl/chikenboy to admit. "Normally." Not Anubis Gate. The lyrics have relevance and balls, and these assertions are not necessarily self-explanatory these days. Until you were born that way, of course.

Rating : 9.3 / 10

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Glorior Belli - The Great Southern Darkness review

Year : 2011
Genre : Black Metal / Doom / Sludge hybrid
Label : Metal Blade Records
Origin : France
Rating : 8.0 / 10

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Glorior Belli's latest opens a voodoo portal on you that transfers your sorry ass to the immediate vicinity of an extremely irritated and 3 meters long crocodile in Naouleens, - pronunciation : New Orleans - so the plan of this spin is none less than to consort the exquisitely massive and monumentally lazy nature of sludge music with the restlessness of especially unforgiving black metal.

The Great Southern Darkness - try to find the very sloppily hidden tribute to The Great Southern Trendkill in the title - comes to you with a core that declares this delivery as a black metal album at heart, yet the LP's highly grim character packs the aspiration to claim the southern vibes via a good amount of elegantly researched methods that reek the fat promise of good old impending doom. Read on to find out more about these elements, or be voodooed proper, biatch.


The compositions on this record are both solid and flamboyant, and all primer components of them - black metal, dainty doom and bloated sludge - are presented in an eloquent, well varied fashion. None of the respective methods of the ingredients get abused at constant top-efficiency to harass the epitome of instant effect. In other words, it must be pointed out that this album, wisely enough, does not seek to serve out your anticipations by blast beating your misery on the altars of instant southern sludge, it instead is focused to give a kind of doom-tinted black metal, that which gets constantly assuaged by a much more calmer - but still mean - stroll along the southern sludge vibes.

The closest the album comes to-, and fulfills your initial anticipations you are likely to cultivate, is the third track, called They Call Me Black Devil. This song gives you a superb rendition of southern sludge having an explicit affair with specter-black metal, and the next track that follows this one up, sounds extremely strong with its unalloyed misery spilled all over the place in the style of a more sorrowful kind of doom, that which though still has the will to move on. Oh, and the fact that the track's first segment has nothing southern about it, is an embarrassment to complain about.

One beneficial key factor of Glorior Belli's latest declaration is its capacity to surprise you without end while the spin lasts. Once you find yourself more and more accustomed to any central moods the album is fond of revealing, the more closer you are to a dramatic change in the fabric of things. These changes never trade variation in for less efficiency, and an intact build that has sober capacity to flatter and consort traditional black metal / impending doom and massive sludge, indeed is established and decently delivered. The last 20 seconds of the album is especially rabid compared to the character of the release. Why did I just say that? Because I just have heard it.

All in all, The Great Southern Darkness delivers ruthlessly, despite any qualms a culturesnob position may give birth to. If you have enjoyed this release, you may also find luscious pleasure in a death / doom hybrid, scrutinized herein. As for The Great Southern Darkness, the naked intent to consort black with thick sludge and slim doom, results in stable, mean success with razor sharp crocodile teeth, and it seeks to rip out a piece of you. As a start.

Rating : 8.0 / 10

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Pain of Salvation - Road Salt Two review

Year : 2011
Genre : Progressive Rock
Label : InsideOut
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 9.3 / 10

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Swedish progressive rock brigade Pain of Salvation brings you the classic kind of the genre with fluent elegance and as chiseled of super-tasty production values as they come. If Opeth's latest sounds like it was recorded in 1969, one could make the argument that this record also comes to you as the music of 1969, "only" with absolutely top of the heat production qualities, and this is not something this music review site Noise Shaft easily says.

This record is rendered in a crystal clear, immensely well researched and superbly focused fashion, and is beyond all doubts capable to produce an intensely intimate, tight/wide - as you prefer - listening experience. Pain of Salvation's latest contribution sounds lush, tender, and also properly crisp and gritty where things demand, showing constant, relentless focus to address its favorite moods with convince power that reigns pretty much beyond criticism in character. How much of-, and how many times you give what you can, is something of a different matter.

The one possible - and absolutely optional - qualm regarding this release also comes through as one of its central charms : the album does everything in such a tight and richly sounding fashion, that its various methodologies are becoming relatively repetitious by character when nearing the middle section of the spin. This, though, is only a similarity of character in the songs and methodologies, and, if someone would say that it is a totally acceptable-, or, in fact, beneficial attribute of a record, then this position should be respected. Read on to find out more about this release, which probably makes Timothy Leary a happy observer and a happy dancer. No, looks like he did not object.


While having a peaceful, observant stance towards the surrounding things at heart, Road Salt Two shows equal readiness to compliment the shadowy aspects of things, and these sequences reveal an elegant kind of strictly constrained sludge. This sludge does not seek to crush you into spirit pulp, it instead seeks to entertain, which is a very rare behavior from this musical direction, and also a true privilege to greet. The album never seeks to depress, quite the contrary : this spin sounds to be one positive outlook on perspectives, and reigns as a precise counter-pointing to Opeth's latest, - fellow countrymen, too - that which depicts a much more negativistic stance revealed in the body of the exact same genre of classic progressive rock.

Road Salt Two is practically packed with super-muscular songs that glorify the '70s with contemporary tools within a contemporary environment, and, you do not even need to be a fan of the genre itself to find yourself staggered by the honest brilliance this record is presented along. If you think that some elements of this LP probably sounds obsolete, you are as far from the truth as Satan is from spontaneous enlightenment, because, this spin is fresh as dew. Once again : the tracks on this release are especially dainty, and well constructed. There is a whole lot to gratefully soak your ear into, as the record features a truly playful variant of whatever it chooses to feature. The guitars are well defined AND very properly gentle at once, the bass is "funnily fat", sort of chubby, and still has luscious curves, and the drum work sounds like the drummer is right beside you with his set, and his playing is full of pleasant surprises, never seeking to / having to demand full efficiency from his gear in order to give you a superb time.

That little stringed instrument in the track called Healing Now, for example : the sonic experience is occurring right in front of you, with crystal clear instruments, that intentionally refrain from emerging to be intimidating as a sonic mass. The whole thing sounds like a proper-, and absolutely great bard-performance, only without the power metal fantasy cheese factor you would normally be afraid of as something you will likely have to painfully endure along the way. Or, the restrained, secretive anger in the track called Eleven : this is a nice example of sludge having a playful time as opposed of moving for the kill right away. A fun fact : this track has nothing to do with this track with the same title Eleven.

As for the similarities of patterns in this exquisite fabric, the album sounds to have a tad more of the over-emotional quasi-acapella singing for my personal taste when cultivating the troll reality tunnel for a second or two, and the same can be told about the superficially elegant jam sessions of the output. While these sequences unleash totally fine and sharply defined funk elements, it is not at all hard to notice that the band usually shows only restrained intent to stroll away from a groove they place an elegantly curved introductory butt on. You will soon find out that the butt itself is the attraction, most of the time - notice the hidden words of wisdom - as it won't go anywhere. The tasty jam sessions are extremely quick to reveal their ultimate-, at heart simplistic character, and they weigh in as a fine material to connect surrounding elements, but they show relatively little autonomous will to exist, let alone progress on their own terms.

These qualms though are pointing to only majorly minor - aua - semi-blemishes in the fine fabric of this lush and elegant accomplishment, and chances are that you won't find a single moment you would dismiss with a face serious if you are a proper fan of this style. As hinted, this record is an immediate benchmark as far as production values, because, Road Salt Two sounds flawless both for what it wants to do, and as a testament of a supremely diligently developed sonic experience, all for the love of lush music. An optimistic, muscular baby with skin as tight as the surface of a balloon filled with fresh water, and you want to hear this.

Rating : 9.3 / 10

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Machine Head - Unto the Locust review

Year : 2011
Genre : Groove Metal with Metalcore allures
Label : Roadrunner Records
Origin : United States
Rating : 7.5 / 10

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Machine Head unleashes the ancient, stone-authentic groove lingo of Pantera, igniting its tremendous engines to bring you valiantly varied groove metal which though is in a relentless hurry to seek the catchy chorus in the vicinity as an extra service to the ears. Ah! What? You did not order that??

Unto the Locust shows no notable aspiration to reinvent the proper steel or the proper wheel, and the only derivation/addition you are likely to spot when you attempt to relate this album to its originator at heart Pantera, is the relentless and frequent addition of the aforementioned-, acceptable melodic choruses, supported by tasty, calm, guitar centered melodic intermessos to catch a breath or two on. The mid-tempo melodic choruses, while seemingly represent no particular interest in metalcorish suffering narrative, the look itself does not prevent the album from submitting to metalcore-panic on a healthy amount of dire occasions. Unto the Locust, though rarely if ever manages to command you on an immense melodic hook from which there is no escape, brings you the intact kind of groove-based full power variation that sells out the show no problem, and the choruses are not as long as they would be if they were twice as long as they actually are. Still here? Splendid. Read on to find out more on these briskly varied elements.


The name of the game herein, obviously enough, is the act of summoning the heft that may have the chance to stop an incoming bulldozer or two, and the thoughtful addition of re-occurring segments that radiate a more restrained musical stance, serve as efficient anchors to establish a soberly balanced field of operation amidst the sequences of intense sonic engagement.

The album has two primordial vibes it feels itself most confident with : the rumble itself it produces leaves no place to form a complaint on. It is summoned via a well researched, tight, at heart traditional sound, delivered by fat and mean guitars full of bad intent that dwell only a story above the direct depths of hell as far as their tuning. As hinted, melodic, misery-fixated mid-tempo is equally a key factor of this spin, and not the factor that me, myself and I have found themselves awesometacularly blown away by, but there is no doubt that the mid-tempo sequences are tightly realized, too. The only qualm one might give a voice to regarding this matter, is the impression that the mid-tempo-, chorus related approach of the album sounds to seek to put way too much of semi-metalcorish panic narrative into the builds, regardless how the first third of the release tells everything about the vibe that sounds worth to be told.

The Special Edition of this contribution comes with three bonus tracks on board. Let's address two of those. One of these is a nicely realized acoustic version of highlight delivery Darkness Within, while the bonus track called The Sentinel consorts groove metal with power metal on an adrenaline rush, and, if you think this will kick your ass to hell and back, you are pretty close to the truth.

Machine Head's latest is a safe bet to invest your listening time in, and, if you show propensity to find and omit the two, maybe three - and not more - tracks you think the record declares itself more muscular without, then it emerges as a groove metal affair worth revisiting.

Rating : 7.5 / 10

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Mastodon - The Hunter review

Year : 2011
Genre : Blues Rock / Sludge
Label : Reprise / Warner Bros
Origin : United States
Rating : 7.5 / 10

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Mastodon's freshest LP to date has its fair share of moments of rabid beauty, and also moments that reek the sweat of an obese, old circus wrestler who tries to entertain you with "special" moves that simply lack the kind of attraction/risk you would ever want to revisit upon successfully enduring watching those during one miserable sitting.

This band brings you an almost friendly, tender kind of quasi-sludge to encompass the record's omnipresent urge to reveal a natural slickness on bluesy registers, but the compositions show mixed results, as great moments are often interrupted by mildly efficient choruses that sound to fail to topple their preceding occurrences.

Some refrains, as you will see through examples to be given later, sound to come through as desperate attempts to release your attention momentarily from the torment that it gets the weeping slave of when the palette of elegant bluesy vibes have lost all their entertainment value for a second or two, but STILL they come to beat your awareness up in an attempt to force your last, remaining bit of appreciation for them from you. Oh, you would have been so happy and so willing to give it to them later. Sometimes you have to HATE when they want to take away from you what you want to give.

The chorus of the track called Curl of the Burl, - which is one of the most solid songs on the entire album, along with Stargasm, the Depeche Mode sludge titular track The Hunter and a tremendous end sequence composed of the last three pieces - sounds like this : "oh, oooh, oh, oooh!" And the chorus of the follow-up track, called Blasteroid, sounds like this : "ooooh, oh!, oh, oh, oh!" Help me or let me help you, Jesus. Read more to find out how this record rumbles through and stumbles in its own footprints.


Mastodon's The Hunter has solid, traditional sludge/blues rock charms whenever it chooses to be brisk and/or narrative, whereas the "rumble" it tries to produce as yet another primer agenda, simply does not feel to be served sufficiently, courtesy of inconsistent efforts exhibited on the compositional fields of the release. The least efficient segments of this spin reek of sweat of trying to summon a vibe similar to that contained in a vile and filthy fashion on the elegant effort Uncle Acid & The Deadbeat's Blood Lust, but Mastodon's rendition of this particular target-vibe is prone to be bogged down here and there with sequences that seem to have come out of nowhere and seem to serve no particular function. This is not too frequent, fortunately, but when it occurs, it occurs rampantly. The track called Octopus Has No Friends, for instance.

Notice the soul-swallower chorus. "I'm on my way back home!", then repeat. Man, I really really wish you'd reach home. The vibe of the chorus clearly is an aspiration to toll Foo Fighter's There Goes My Hero, only this time, the vibe is squashed by the mighty penis of a mastodon. What can you say beside : aua.

Another strange thing : opening track "Black Tongue". The lyrics go like this :

"I burned out my eyes
I cut off my tongue"

...

This is like : badass! (And, by the way, you are singing pretty well without a tongue, too.)

Fortunately, a good amount of tracks come to you with strong melodic structures to successfully reveal the main ambition of embedding legit blues rock into the mastodonic sludge, and this aspiration emerges solid through both brisk and midtempo segments of the album. Then again, other tracks border on the characteristics of Simon and Garfunkelish lullabies, now supported by incapacitated coffee grinder guitars that sound to prefer to call it a wrap and go home instead ASAP. This is the track called "The Creature Lives". Later on, the song reveals the nature of a Scottish folk song, and, when you realize that the main attraction of the declaration is to soak you into the sear enigma of directionless open power chords being ringed around for two minutes or so into wild space, you truly are left without a clue.

This strange development, fortunately, is assuaged greatly by a particularly strong ending portion, as the final three tracks give you superbly sculpted, eventful and especially melodic content that packs both the rabid sludge-animal and the promise of it being tamed at any moment. A mildly inconsistent spin that sounds to have spent a tad less time in the stove than it has signed on for, but its strongest moments guarantee an intimate, eventful and serious listening experience.

Rating : 7.5 / 10

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Redemption - This Mortal Coil review

Year : 2011
Genre : Progressive Metal
Label : InsideOut Music
Origin : United States
Rating : 8.8 / 10

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Redemption's freshest ruthlessly and triumphantly reinvigorates the hypercheesy semi-concealed bitterness ethos of the '80s, and proves that the aforementioned vibe sports timeless of a charisma enough to make you a secretive fan of it for life. And, preferably : beyond. Or, to make you someone who at the VERY least, denies her/his secret affection towards this particular feeling, that no doubt reigns as one of the most pronounced mood sets music is fond of revealing if asked properly. There were only two types of persons in the '80s, after all : a fan of Modern Talking, and a person who denied he is a fan of it.

This record sounds to be the exact album that contains the tracks that are perfectly suitable to flip into the spinner of the fictional TechNoir disco club, depicted in the first Terminator movie in 1984. You have heard the chick screaming on the top of her lungs that her desire towards you is such, indeed, that you got her burning in the third degree, - that song and the singing chick owns in so many ways - and it seems safe to say that you could pick any track from this Redemption record to be the next song without the patrons ending you in violent fashion.

On its latest full length, Redemption practically indulges - in a very good way - in the favorite metallic moods of the '80s that have that sorrowful/determined vibe going in, and the band manages to pull this off without falling into the '80s sci-fi anime trap. This is Flashdance with nuclear guitars. In character, this is the music you expect to twang up when renowned ninja alumni of the '80s Sho Kosugi finally evolves to be the Legit Ninja as result of thorough and diligent training sessions, conducted in the presence and continuous approval of his Master, who has a long white beard to sink fingers in while noticing the evident promise taking shape in his favorite prospect.

This kind of musical language always demanded super-diligent sobriety and honest interest in its workings from its creator, because it is extremely easy to fall into the melodrama pitfall when flattering this queen. And this queen also will bitchslap you if you harass her while she has nothing to do with you. On the positive end of the musical mood-spectrum Redemption channels its highly traditional and high quality content from, reigns Journey's Separate Ways, and, on the neutral to pessimistic spectrum, you have Redemption's current declaration, made in the spirit of the '80s at heart, but fueled by heft that is as current as ever. Read on to find out more about the release, or don't.


It clearly is the solid grasp of balance and a good taste for strong melodies that fluently and cunningly sell the content herein without you noticing buying it, and this is a good thing, because this is one of music's primer agenda, and all other talk about the matter is an attempt to bend this convenient truth.

Be wary : Redemption is out to deceive you, and will succeed at that masterfully, because the record starts out as a chrome chimera having a nervous/circuit breakdown, but it will soon find a myriad ways to assuage its frustrations via addressing those according to the moods outlined above. A key element of this release is that it is confident enough to take detours from the well trodden moods of stone-traditional classic metal, and emerges as not being afraid to introduce quite elegant and JUST properly emotional melodic singing that actually has convince power behind it, and not something the listener may get afraid the extremely slimy matter of. The record shows dignity all over its body, and this is a true accomplishment in the shady light the spin itself is a valiant and honest storyteller of.

This Mortal Coil has its healthy share of both tastily delivered doubt and inventively served angst, yet this angst, fortunately enough, still keeps a peace of mind at its core, and shapes the creation of legit, serious music as the intent to keep the focus on. During these intensified runs, the band brings you intricacy bordering on the experimental field. Very complex sonic stimulus that still manages to emerge coherent and related to its surroundings, showing zero interest to show off technical aptitude with hopes of getting real estate later on good old wankfest territory. This especially is evident throughout the spin's top of the tier guitar solos : these instrumental statements truly grab your attention via their sheer inventiveness and rabid elegance, gracing your ears with content that are privileges to revisit.

Redemption's latest is a deeply traditional-, and, paradoxically enough, modernistic offering, one that is born out of collective intent that can do with music whatever it wants. As such, this continuous objective to re-invigorate the spirit of the '80s via super-competent tools and skills, fuels a declaration that projects fresh and relevant light on the timeless patterns in the collective experience that are the '80s. Redemption's This Mortal Coil has all the chance in the whole wide world to hit the bullseye on the heart of any fan of the progressive metal genre, and comes as an immediate gogetitmylove for the person sharing that tender fixation on the '80s.

Rating : 8.8 / 10

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