Disturbed - The Lost Children review

Year : 2011
Genre : Alternative Bubblegum Metal
Label : Reprise
Origin : United States
Rating : 6.9 / 10

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Disturbed's latest studio release to hit a shelf near you is a compilation packed with the b-side delicacies the band has delivered throughout its popular career. Welcome to the Hubba Bubba side of Heavy! Metal!, bitches.

Lost Children has scary children on the cover, and the Disturbed dude, who is the Creator of these dire abominations, and the image is doing a decent job at serving out your affection for all things badass and scary. One thing this time travel medley is superbly efficient at, is to familiarize the virgin ear with the primer characterology of the music Disturbed is fond to put out. We are talking about a smile-worthily accessible kind of metal that attempts to establish a well researched - and also very self-repetitious - balance between grooves relying on syncopated chug-fixation and relatively cheese-free power metal, while the aspiration to invite the monumental hook-chorus - sometimes with great-, sometimes with mild success - also could regard itself as a constant ritual that is about to be resonated per song for sure. If you were curious about what the deal is regarding Disturbed's character and related popularity, then this compilation album might be your best bet to find that out. Read on to - sorry about that - read more about this Hubba Bubba bubblegum metal compilation.


The Lost Children is an informative selection with a healthy, dynamic character and tempo to it, and, fortunately enough, it also is efficient at strolling along the different modal registers the band is fond submitting to. Disturbed sounds to have three primal behaviors, and, as hinted, the album is quick to reach the point of virtual self-repetition. Worry not : the bubblegum still remains enjoyable, and here is why : the taste is long gone, but you can still chew. During the verses, the vocals tend to have a tribal rhythmization, giving you the "neanderthal within" vibe, then you have a pre-, and/or a breakdown, and THEN the chorus with the clean singing.

Though the band's technique to trade microwave groove-intensity to accessible quasi-power metal lira and vice versa is absolutely undeniable, the tracks remain super-prone to exhibit the same compositional methods being utilized in their respective fabrics. The singer dude sounds to have 2-3 - and not more - favorite ways to deliver a melody on top of a chug, then, he descends from top to the bottom while touching every note two times during the pre, and finally you have the chorus with the Phil Collins on steroid-like clean singing, which sounds pretty cool to be honest. I think the chorus of opening track "Hell" is superb, and also think that the album draws somewhat of a downward spiral during its spin. The Faith No More and Judas Priest covers at the end of the album stand out like twin peaks of Mountains of Madness in the bubblegum-mudpile the album finally collapses to without them. This is accessible metal with SHORT glances of brilliant songwriting, but its most dominant character sounds to come through as its own dormant-, nevertheless rampant agenda to entertain you solely with the variation of the one single trick it is primarily centered around. The same structure is served over and over and over again, but that exactly what chewing is about. Once again : there are moments I love on this record, and so much more I can't tell you anything about, because they put me to hypersleep.

Rating : 6.9 / 10

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Wolves in the Throne Room - Celestial Lineage review

Year : 2011
Genre : Black Metal
Label : Southern Lord
Origin : United States
Rating : 5.0 / 10

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Wolves in the Throne Room still wants to make you lie on the floor and cry as it channels relentless audio data that does not give you all that much other chance than to submit to its openly cleared agenda, anyway. Celestial Lineage shares a variety of pivotal elements that all make it a passable-, but, in my opinion, epically far from great or particularly efficient spin for its own ambitions. Not surprisingly, the record comes to you in pitch black, waves a scythe and it is not loving you at all, and it is very hard to not notice how the entire build swims in foams and successive foams of relentlessly abused reverb effects, stacked on each other like it is the last day of their painfully misunderstood prime. In short : what the album lacks in content, seeks to emphasize by repetitious effect-wizardry, at least, it sounds to me like that. Subtract the bigass reverb effect from the opening track, and you end up with a very average black metal build, and I do not even know what it wants from me. But I do know I don't want a thing from it.

Noise Shaft despises cynicism openly, and, on occasion, it commits it to strengthen this valiant directive. The album features around five minutes of passable-, but not all that memorable or inventive atmospheric elements, featuring Mr. Blowing Wind, Mr. Cracking Fire, and Mr. Bored-ass Male Chorus. The main operational field of the release is the ASAP-rendition of traditional soulslicer-grade black metal, but, without the harmonic magic of Burzum or Septic Mind on board. Check out the ambient section of this cosmic soulcrusher track from Russian Doomers Septic Mind if you want. On Celestial Lineage, more emphasis is placed on the mere act of the sloppy slicing than on the exact shape of the scythe that gets complimented for the moment. In other words : while melodies and different frequency vibrations are presented along a cumbersome sense of sweaty variation, the content, not surprisingly, never chooses to stray away from the artistic behavior of directing the fullest attention to the tinkering of decay. Wolves in the Throne Room's Celestial Lineage seeks decay so much, it decays while doing that. Read on to find out if this decay process signifies any danger at all for the attention span resonated by the Oh!, so curious mind.


Of course not, this is a pretty risk-free effort. Saved for its short, ambient atmospheric interludes, Wolves of the Throne Room's latest sounds like deeply traditional black metal that does not seem to seek to reinvent, to add to any sacred/blasphemous elementary rule of the coarsest form of the genre. The compositions are relying on extremely wet keyboards and possessed guitars with keen desire to make love with the tremolo, both elements supporting the spouting type vocals you have heard many many times before. Yet, I must say I do not find the spouting on this record as - uhm - "natural" or authentic like on a Burzum record, for example.

An even bigger concern to raise and remain serious about, is the mere quality of the compositional work on this release : there is nothing wrong with the builds as sonic constructs, and there is nothing "with them/ in them" beyond the fact of nothing being wrong with them, either. The tracks are lengthy, show not all that much muscle worth eyeballing or touching multiple times, and each of them share this relative misconception of soaking every bit of sound into effect-madness for the sake of making it wet and highly intimidating. The intent crushes its subject now, though.

The spouting, and the eerie, occasional female chorus which is a secondary extra attraction of the LP, both wear out quicker than the average charm you end up from the touch of a rampaging female lich, and frankly, the sonic mood-register the album cares to move its monumental ass around to discover, is pretty limited when my snob mode is invited to spout out its own impression. The LP has some shamelessly masturbatory moments in my opinion, track number 5 comes to mind as an immediate example for this. Track number five is not as great as it pretends to be. The only thing I found interesting on this release, is the closing sequence of the last contribution, where a wall of sound structure of soulslicer guitars and synths that are seeking to eradicate all will to live, are increasing in volume, producing the only period of this album I could give a moment of honest interest for. All other things on it sound "uhuh" to me.

Rating : 5.0 / 10

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Hammers of Misfortune - 17th Street review

Year : 2011
Genre : Progressive Metal with a Black Sabbath Sludge tendency
Label : Metal Blade Records
Origin : United States
Rating : 8.0 / 10

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Hammers of Misfortune blends fine, disciplined musicianship with a keen affection on the classic sound of lazy, at heart semi-peaceful, semi-bitter "heavy" metal. You know, the kind of metal ethos by which the protagonist changes his mind about committing suicide, because he spots a female who certainly seems to be much more interesting sport than mere physical death, phah.

Hold on to your girlfriend or to your chair, because this right here is a progressive heavy metal album. It is so heavy metal that I remain reluctant to add the "heavy" label, and here is why : the term "heavy metal" seems to be so oldschool that writing it down makes a 28k modem feel fresh and vibrant like no tomorrow. One particular primer attribute of this record also reigns as the key deciding factor of how the stimuli on it will affect your receivers, and you need to be a scientifically negativistic person - synonym : a douché, and a black belt at that, too - to dismiss this LP as anything less than a highly admirable contribution. As for the deciding factor : it is the record's relentless behavior to scrutinize its own nature with such intense of a stare fixed on its own body that beats a statue in a staredown contest without even trying.

The LP exhibits an elegant haste to express its charms right away, and these charms, while valiantly varied according to their own terms and their shared field of operation, are somewhat limited by an ubiquitous decision to not to deviate-, to not to give the rebel middle finger to the basic "feel" of-, to the nearness of palish depression, bghaaaarghjhl. Hammers of Misfortune takes its name seriously, and, while the intent of the release is absolutely far from crushing you to laughable pieces like this or this, I still tend to think that the record sticks to its own direction

waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too rigidly.

It worships its capricious Metal Mistress relentlessly, without giving the poor thing a gasp of private breath to reflect on the experience for a second or two, you know? It sounds to me as good classic heavy metal music of a certain shape. Then, 20 minutes later, it sounds to me as good classic heavy metal music of the exact same shape. Ah, OK. Forty minutes into the record, and it sounds to me as good classic heavy metal music of the exact shape still, hello?? I accept : this might exactly be what you are looking for. Then read on, Lava'.


As hinted, this release sounds very, very, very : classic. It is completely free of the recent trends / aspirations to wash everything out to crystal clear-, even to robotic glitter-standards, but this notion consorts nicely with a secondary one regarding the mere power-, lushness of the LP, which reigns beyond criticism. The sound is vibrant, fat, and eager to roll over you. But, what you hear on this album on the emotional register, remains relentlessly long-hair-, black boot-, sorrowful face metal with more pronounced tendencies to mangle the self's integrity and to wave the blaming index finger, than to resonate in any other context with a "sole" function of entertainment. (There are a - luckily enough - limited supply of mid-tempo power metal vibes, too, and I think those are pretty frightening.)

The cover art is a perfect reflection of the things to come on this solid, classic-sounding spin : shadowy figures and blue light, now where did I see this before? Music is beyond doubt the most important thing on this full length, which is not always natural in an era with maniac aspirations to overproduce stuff. Though I, personally am not against overproduction, because it usually is better to produce something over, than to do that sloppily, or to not to at all. Hammers of Misfortune shows no interest in Dream Theaterish aural magic tricks and related-, secretly/covertly committed instant pocketwankeries, instead, every mood summoned on the spin is a reflection on the living bare body of music as it is invited by the classic metal instruments. But! There are pianos involved on occasion, too, and you know the piano deal : they rule, sure, but that mellow-, marshmallow-like pink timber they produce always throws a wink and a compliment towards gloom/drama or both at the same time. Granted, this is why you love piano, yet, keep in mind : with a piano on board to support a set of instruments with their favorite moody inner calibration engaged already, - and there are no other modes, so you have just been taued - this release has no intent to make you feel good or bad about existence. (Not that it should.) It instead seeks to deliver a beautifully realized-, serious row of compliments to the stone-classic face of so called classic heavy metal, and, in this regard, its success is super-impressive. Imagine a Black Sabbath with progressive tendencies, substract that badass vile factor of Black Sabbath, - audience : halved - and you'll have an idea where this spin is drawing and forming its respectable agenda from.

Once again : Hammers of Misfortune's 17th Street deserves nothing less than the steepest admiration for being such tightly and diligently realized as it is FOR what it seeks to be, and, if you are a devoted fan of the classic/ancient face of "heavy metal", then this spin is pure gold for you. If you are someone else, you can give it a try, but it will wear you out as a double sheet of titanium blanket, I'd say.

Rating : 8.0 / 10

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Putrescent Secretancy - Reconfiguration of Reality review

Year : 2011
Genre : Death Metal
Origin : United States
Label : Independent
Rating : 8.8 / 10

Independent death - hah! - group Putrescent Secretancy rumbles out with an LP that proudly sports disturbing enough of a cover to smuggle a covert smile under the hood of Emperor Palpatine, and the music on it is JUST the type of content you probably have longed for in case the artwork catches your interest, you perverted cosmic schmuck.

Reconfiguration of Reality packs 47 minutes of slickly written, superbly produced death metal, and it also is the deeply humorless kind of it with exactly zero desire - or tolerance, for the matter - towards attaining comfortable accessibility and all other chickenboy-sentiments of the similar sort. Fortunately, the exclusive invitees to this series of blistering-, good old fashioned inner private beatings are the monstrous sonic reflections of a decoded existence that accepts no comfort. These avid aural monstrosities are radiating their relentless character through their passionately shared/cultivated mega-angst and disillusionment-wizardry, which, not surprisingly, also comes to crush you proper as the record's main-, pretty much ONLY behavioral strategy. Thank God & Co. - including the band, logically enough - for that, because the direction of the death metal Putrescent Secretancy is into, IS a superbly thrilling style to subject silence to myriads and myriads of creative deaths with, har! har! har!

The record is a constant aural outburst with virtually no two identical sequences present on it, and, granted that the sequences are strong enough - and they absolutely are, Ladies and miserable Gents - then this probably is the most-, the exact stuff you could ever want to experience during a fine death release. The stimuli on Putrescent Secretancy's latest spin surfaces up from such a terribly ugly psychic place which only a creature with its wanted poster littered around Hell would want to hang out at, and, as such, this release is one of the premiere choices you can suck out your private black holes with in order to subject them to more sober scrutiny. Or vice versa. Read on, or keep on reading.


Manic, constant variation and a properly faceless kind of riffing are key factors herein. The riffs are faceless in the sense that they do not even seek to deliver a pattern for you that you can comfortably relate to, as is common to a less rabid musical dialect. They instead follow a relentless and ALWAYS clearly successful agenda to paint random aural demons on the empty canvas that is expressed through the ultimately musical canvas-body of perfect silence - ah, I feel I have a great moment now, sip! sip! - and the listening experience gets realized by the "mere fact" that you do not really have ANYTHING to grasp unto, because everything you COULD grasp unto, is out to tear a healthy chunk out of your sorry hide. This kind of music, make no mistake, is one of the hardest kind to create for sure, because a band has to be mad serious about flattering chaos in a way so blind potentiality As It Is does not dismiss them with a series of Norris-type flying roundhouse kicks to the face. When this musical strategy is taken to the steepest extremes, the result truly is magical, and it is safe to say that Putrescent Secretancy takes death metal with vocals as much away as it is possible, and, frankly, there is nothing else too much to be added to this via words, because some things are not meant to be (solely) talked or (solely) read about. Some things are meant to be heard first, and this record is one of those things. If you are a death metal fan, you need to check this out as soon as possible. If you are not a death fan, then you truly should feel robbed out of your time right now. Have a nice day for someone.

Rating : 8.8 / 10

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Megadeth - Thirteen Th1rt3en review

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

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


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

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

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

Hey, just whose record is this, anyway?

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

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

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

(.Y.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rating : 6.5 / 10

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Odd Logic - Over the Underworld review

Year : 2011
Genre : Progressive Metal
Label : AM Music
Origin : United States
Rating : 9.2 / 10

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Deeply underrated American progressive metal squadron Odd Logic comes forth with a monstrous full length that is practically stacked with finely sculpted delicacies from start to finish, despite how this release declares galactic scale war to conquer your very best honest attention via a stupendous running time of 1 hour and 9 minutes. The anatomy of this fine aural contribution reflects the music I "anticipated" - what a terribly, terribly snob word - from the latest Dream Theater - ah!, aaah!, aaaaah! - disc, only, this time the gloom trodden power metal stench I would have been so keen to missing out on in the supersmarmy company of THAT particular album, is nowhere to be found, luckily enough.

This robust, sci-fi tinted Odd Logic statement has wank-free intricacy and tight compositional efforts realized on it pretty much without stop or any blemishes you could valiantly point the index finger on, and, this time, thank God and Co., there is no need to question the progressive nature of the album, either. Odd Logic's Over the Underworld is highly aware of the steeply priced defining qualities of the genre, and that latent-, untold progressive requirement of rabid, yet sober flamboyancy is created and maintained by every single minute of the stimuli. In other words, this full length has immense work in it, and, look! This IS progressive metal, oh my God it really IS that, oh God!!!4

Sure, in an ideal world, you would not need to be staggered about the fact that a progressive metal album actually PROGRESSES, but, recently me, myself and I - along with the guy who is writing this - personally saw examples when Dr. Albanish pop metal is embraced by the delightful deceived as the finest progressive sonic stimuli to grace the silence of recent day cosmoses.

aasjkdfasfasjfjasgfjhasfjabfasdfjas

If it is about entertainment with alleged capacities to shape a soul, - notice : the entertainment that lacks this quality is not even worth its title - then it is not a sane thing to get satisfied with anything less efficient or more abject than others ARE willing to give to you, courtesy of they having both the capacity and the propensity to give it for real. I'm telling all this, because this here is a serious progressive metal album without ANY deceiving tendencies, and the only way it is using to get to the epitome of progression, is leading through JUST that. The only entities on board are the fine music in the company of tight creative power and the rigorously focused work that are fueling it. Guys, let's talk about the music.


In nature, this contribution shows similarities with Arch & Matheos' latest bionic creation, only this time, the beautifully chug-fixated complexity gets a sonic room with more freely-, more playfully positioned spaces in it, as result of tasteful wall of sound quasi-choruses - more on this later - and efficient mini-breakdowns. The release is not at all reluctant to rely on cybernetic synthetizers, and those are looking absolutely vicious when toppling in a timelessly classic and classicly timeless Faith No More fashion the GIGANTIC rumble the album's rhythm guitar is capable to produce. The sound of the rhythm guitar here demands a scientific essay on its own, to be honest : it is ridiculously wide and evil, and sits in a PERFECT place in the mix. This chug produces an almost percussive effect, while having a very sober understanding of its own functions.

As for the song structures, these are inventively, soberly capricious builds with myriads and myriads of defining prime elements per track, which will be much more easy to believe when you consider that the shortest track on this release is 9:15, - saved for a secret track of 1:45 minutes of silence - while the longest weighs in at 20:34, so do not eat chili beans while subjecting yourself to this baby. The well varied anatomic structures of the songs are prone to reveal a honest, thrilling sci-fi vibe riding on its autonomous fixation towards mid-tempo soul grinding, and heft always IS mandatory. And, what is best, once you are accustomed to a great-, restrained mid tempo riff and realize you are given no other choice than to like it, all of a sudden it gets its butt kicked proper by a Pantera-like monster riff that shows its roaring "I hate everyone and everything and now I will fuck you up, too" face around for half a minute or so for good measure. Same is true to the structures of the melodic singing work : verses and choruses are elegantly utilized, but not at relied upon, and this compositional behavior is very interesting to listen to. A narrative stance with healthily belted ringed notes that last for five eternities, are commanding the verse sections, and the choruses/intermessos are bringing the elegant catchy factor in without you being forced to produce a twitch or two at both corners of your mouth. As for the timber, the mood of the vocal contribution, the singing is an exclusively clean, brisk midrange. Soulful and dignified in character, even when deeply restrained and lyrical, no James LaBrie "please sing a handkerchief for me for this, too" factor.

It is worth mentioning that the tremendous rumble the album produces is the result of a noticeable decision to cover the entire content into a quite present - but not at all overshot - reverb effect. This gives the album a cybernetically lush and unforgiving quality that is a superbly thrilling feeling to immense yourself into, and it weighs on the psyche as the french kiss of a black hole, but hell, this exactly what the idea is. If you want to hear progressive metal that fulfills and tastefully flatters-, even worships the extremely high expectation levels of its ruthlessly demanding genre, then picking up Odd Logic's Over the Underworld is top priority, Ladies and Gents.

Rating : 9.2 / 10

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Insomnium - One for Sorrow review

Year : 2011
Genre : Melodic Death Metal
Label : Century Media
Origin : Finland
Rating : 8.8 / 10

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With its freshest full length to date, Finland's Insomnium rains down not hellfire but a squad of Nordic avalanches on you, doing it with tremendous charm and ruthless efficiency. This record has an icy, positive, dignified "storyteller" attitude, and the whole thing reeks - in a similarly positive way - the Burzum black metal vibe, now though blown out to occupy top level aural real estate capacity. The tracks on this spin are abundant and playful musical constructs, and it is safe to say that less efficient declarations are not part of this fine inner sightseeing.

The primordial-, "Burzum-like" vibe of the release is your totally appropriate modal fix to get ripped to shreds by a pack of rabid wolves on the thin ice to entertain the withered moonlight, yet, Insomnium's One for Sorrow is clearly a record that commands you to feel reasonably good about being ripped to shreds. The LP introduces and tastefully maintains a sense of frosty, sorrowfully and frighteningly sexy fantasy narrative, - not buttbuddy nor acquaintance of cheesefestation fantasy power metal - and makes it work superbly by pulling out melodic hooks from behind every single mammoth tree you come across in this intriguing sonic forest. Guys, let's talk about the music.


One for Sorrow's most fine attribute to notice and be delighted about, is its capacity to be flamboyant and focused with heft, grit and tenderness, all at the same time. The LP has a whole lot going on along its perfect length of 53 minutes. While the general flow of things revolves around the timeless fun of well varied sonic rumbling, the complementary ingredient is a propensity to throw a cleverly placed wink to Nordic folk vibes, and let me tell you that these viking folk vibes are looking truly great when their qualities are addressed by frozen lich king guitars plugged into monolith-amplifiers.

Insomnium's latest is a highly likable piece of silence massacre, and you can't miss out and be serious about it on the dozens of fine little subtleties the tracks are packed fully with. FULLY, indeed. Most of the time, there are 3 or 4 aural layers present ONLY in the mid-range register, so you will have ample occasions to cultivate attention to the high frequency details the mere fabric of the record graces you as.

Sober accessibility coming in with tremendous heft and through myriad forms, is key factor of this release. The choruses are elegant, the death metal growling sucks your soul out through your eyes and spits it back through your ass, and the whole album has super-tight focus-, relevant melodic inventions and sober balance written all over it. All in all, Insomnium's One for Sorrow is a record with full blown potential to turn its listener to a werewolf with an agenda, and hell, what is more manly than that!?

Rating : 8.8 / 10

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