Myrath - Tales of the Sands review

Year : 2011
Genre : Aladdin in my Happy Meal Metal, Progressive Metal Power Metal
Label : XIII Bis Records
Origin : Tunesia
Rating : 6.9 / 10

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Myrath's Tales of the Sands is a record with velvet-pop metal-magazine appeals, declaring its (desperate wish for an) identity by throwing shameless winks to the "Beefy Preset Collection Tips!" column inherent to the magazine in question so rampantly that you have difficulty to decide if the release already is underway, or just having a series of strokes exhibiting all its OH!, so DEAR! intents while starting out. Glamorous, beefy, harmless toy metal fun for you, and it is out hunting your head down with a plastic scimitar. About 35 minutes of this 50 minutes affair is radio friendly platitude pop metal soaked into a pink-crimson Aladdin theme with an obese exotic chick laying her hideous bellydance for you on the top, while the remaining program time - about 15 minutes - is devoted to the deliverance of accessible, tame, risk free progression with power metal tendencies. Read on to find out more about this flamboyantly lopsided and lopsidedly flamboyant release.


The main attraction of the initial-, bigger segment of this LP is nothing else or more than the constant trafficking of bloated lead synths and restrained vocal declarations along middle eastern scale patterns, inviting you to become the beholder to their collision with the epitome of Yours, Truly, Cybernetic Rhythm Guitars of Glamorous Grit. Don't count on too elaborate spell levels, not for the most part : the stimuli you are served out with is nothing all that serious, - except for the chello and the synth solos, but their presence is sorrowfully scarce - as the delivery is quite content with the act of giving you the calculatedly played notes in the proper order to command the middle eastern vibe to hint at its own meta-message and surface up, - it takes four notes to reveal it, three if you are allowed to bend, none if you are a beautiful middle eastern woman - but the arch-face that is revealed, gets no further compliments. I wouldn't claim that these tracks sound to be capable to do proper justice to the relentless feeling hiding in those scales. The release satisfies with the first step being taken, and comes to a stall on that particular spot.

The Myrath middle eastern attraction is not one that gives you reasons to scratch your head over, not for a minute. For a second, maybe, if you are polite. The middle eastern vocal motives that sound more convincing than alibi-ambient, are not frequent, in my opinion. The Aladdin factor of chorus of track number 3, "Merciless Times", is quite cool and relevant. The next track, titular one, "Tales of the Sands" doubtlessly has this nice, mid-tempo tale in the desert pacing that eventually turns me into a camel with an evil shah on my hide. Track number 7 and 8 have solid instrumental segments with nice middle eastern violin (?) solo on top. But I can't pick any other exceptional middle eastern moment on this LP that I remember as another one I'd like to revisit, - especially hard to do when considering the vocalized regions - and, if that is the case, then why. should. I. even. bother.

The shameless exploitation of instantaneous middle eastern mood positions is not the only directive of this spin. The band, for a 35-40% of this album, seeks to operate on threshold-level progressive metal / power metal terms, and, though the content is presented in the spirit of the glamorous but gritty production (template) standards you already had the chance to bore yourself to death and beyond with courtesy of numerous recent records that sound exactly the same as this one, - Nightwish's latest sounds like this, too, it's all about the beefy cybernetic rhythm guitar, folks - the songwriting herein is not on pair yet with robust counter-releases like Anubis Gate's latest or Symphony X's Iconoclast, or Odd Logic's Over the Underworld. And yes, one could go on naming recent releases that sound to be more ripe and focused sonic entities, regardless how they reign free of the need to hold unto a pawn, as this release holds the middle eastern mood as a hostage.

If you did not catch the drift yet, then let me tell you this : the songwriting herein is bombastically presented acceptable mediocrity, - which is the Worst of Them All, needless to say - and, whenever the band is out of "ideas" - which happens fast / song - then comes the Jaffarrian Cornucopia of All Middle Eastern Sonic Platitudes to reveal its toy-attractions again, begging for your appreciation without any reminiscence to dignity and/or notable intent to legitimately entertain. To topple this with another oddity of charming semi-annoyance, a bloated metronome sits on the top of the mix, most of the time. It's not as bad as it would be a pneumatic driller, buuuut, almost.

The record, as suggested, is heavily fixated on its self-indulgent grandeur mentality and exclusive super-propensity to harness the inherent instant feeling of the middle eastern scales without asking for their magic with the irreplaceable cunning that could get it in the mood to reveal its true meaning and relevance for the mere fun of it, at the first place. The chello and the synth solos - very short ones, unfortunately - are the only things I can take serious on this release as ripe and magical aladdinian components, the other middle eastern elements on it are shameless fleemarket discount commodities that are BLAMING the character of middle eastern music, and not serving it. Other than that, the more freely positioned parts of brave, but tame progressive power metal tendencies pack more focused fun, and danger is not invited. You have to decide for yourself if this is a good thing or not.

Rating : 6.9 / 10

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Cage - Supremacy of Steel review

Year : 2011
Genre : Aggressive Power Metal
Label : Music Buy Mail (EU) Heavy Metal Media (US)
Origin : United States
Rating : 9.5 / 10

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Engaging monumental overheft right from the beginning to the end, ancient power metal formation Cage does not give you a single, tiny solitary gap to form any of your worthless, puny, insignificant doubts regarding their latest variant of music, and you truly must suck tremendously to do so, as I just realized. Cage's latest contribution, called "Supremacy of Steel" - there you have it all right - plays a game fueled by nothing less and nothing else than crystal clear cheese-honesty and heft-intent, as this 1 hour and 6 minutes fistpumpa' affair - European Bonus track "Skinned Alive" (as a start, I suppose) - included - paints up the exact limit signs in a way to form the region that the stone-traditional heavy metal fan would likely feel most comfortable on.

This is Iron Maiden's brand of power metal, but, hell, imagine that the members of Iron Maiden are coming to play for you tonight with their mindset being ready to kill, and truly, have no other primer interests, either. It is the hot as hell-, flamethrower grade power metal of hyper-aggression, the variant that enjoys the position to declare itself factually unblemished and awesome even as serious matter and as brilliant parody of itself. Yes, this is a molten cheesefest and unalloyed epicness, they become the same during this spin to form that silly little thing called "fun" you are in this for at the first place. You can join in virtually anytime, - why not from the start, though? - because the music is deeply similar / deeply great in character throughout. Read on to find out more about this.


My number 1 Iron Maiden analogy already has been used up, so I take number 2 to paint the percepts regarding the sound. This record is positively and obscenely thick as a sonic fabric, and its primal charm lies in the fact that it shows no interest whatsoever in embracing recent day glitter-production 111 metalcore release of 100 sports, nor in the bombastic analogue classic sound you can hear on this or this great respective pieces. Cage brings the epitome of the "oh, this is the pair of my trusty oldshool monolith amps" sound and provokes the Animal out of the dangerous things. The bass is the mere safety of the pilot chair of a casual battlecruiser under your ass, the drums-, regardless how they contained within true sonic maelstrom all the way through - summon and pack the relentless Presence to CUT through the mix with the snare, and the tams produce a rumble that even this galactic bass finds itself humbled by, and this is the whole fucking idea, to be honest.

The guitar work-, when not delivering a nice, traditional coffee grinder solo - is coming to you in the mid-range as a substance-presence to coat the vocals in. The riffcraft, for the most part, is very similar to the Iron Maidenish ethos of being happy about inviting THEN kicking a random melodic emphasis in the face with a roundhouse kick - AND a crash cymbal - for inescapable instant effect. The lead singer dude gives a trusty likeness-performance as far as the requirements go, in my opinion. He sounds to be a diligent fan of both Bruce Dickinson and Rob Halford, and delivers the content accordingly. The musical mannerisms of the record, though quick to reveal their favorite doings and methodologies, emerge as the actual pure gold benefits of the release, because Cage's Supremacy of Steel can safely say about itself that it serves your aggressive power metal needs out with 111% efficiency. By the end of the release, you are chrome, Dear Lady, your legs are silhouette symphonies and I want your number.

Rating : 9.5 / 10

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Metallica - Beyond Magnetic EP

Year : 2011
Genre : Thrash Metal
Label : Vertigo
Origin : United States
Rating : 8.2 / 10

Metallica is quick to release an EP following the controversial Lulu quasi-shockumentary that gave your mom a series of successful nervous breakdowns. Beyond Magnetic sounds bravely old school and "garagy" - sorry about that - in a skillfully and tastefully researched Black Sabbathian way, and the Metallica members thankfully bring re-invigorated thrash heft with relevant melodic power, hell, yes! James Hetfield's voice sounds especially ripe, confident and complete, in my opinion. Notice how he sometimes exhibits a midrange timber that is very reminiscent to Freddy Mercury's. What I personally hear on this release leaves me absolutely content as far as the post-black album Metallica era is concerned, and here is why : I always liked the Load and Reload albums, despite the amount of flame those albums seemed to have generated, and the nature of this EP brings to mind character-similarities with the direction of those two black sheep LPs, in my opinion. Beyond Magnetic does not sound to me as cyber-polished OR gritty as Death Magnetic does, yet still sounds superb in the spirit of a much different, more restrained, yet sanely chosen and well focused music methodology. This restrained, but at heart hefty Metallica is more authentic to me to be honest than Dave Mustaine is with a song to the metalcore adolescent, WTF. Read on to find out more about this Metallica EP.


You know the recent day Metallica listening deal : good old fashioned-, always honest Larsian 4/4 pummeling - check out this timeless EPIC FAIL video about Lars Ulrich, too - interchanged with melodic sequences that promise a lot to sink your teeth into, and rightfully so, because, though these compositions are accessible and relatively simplistic in nature, - not necessarily a hindrance, nor benefit - this simplicity never lacks musical exigency and convince power, and the riffcraft is pretty stable, too. Classic Hetflield riffing with great sense and taste exhibited throughout the mere sonic frequency domains, and, oh, Kirk Hammet's feet are still glued to the whammy bar, and she is not afraid to use it!! Unbelievable!

Metallica seems to be taking the fanbase seriously, and this new EP, regardless how similar it is in parts for earlier works, - example : opening track "Hate Train" has this intensified segment. This totally sounds like "Fuel". This is not a problem by me at all, I'm just saying - is once again the Metallica you can regard as a formation that seeks to entertain and not to self-indulge, though I do not find all that much need in myself to flame the Lulu superlong-play anymore. One has the hunch that the next Metallica LP is coming through a space-time rift near you, and there is nothing else to add to this than what Caleb would.

Bring it ooooooon!

Rating : 8.2 / 10

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Feared - Rejects review

Year : 2011
Genre : Groove Death Hybrid
Label : Independent
Origin : Sweden
Rating : 9.2 / 10

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Feared is a project of this young man, primarily, and you want to keep an eye on the workings of this musician. The fabric of the sound of his latest to date groove death hybrid - as this is what I decipher this spin to be - is so abundantly full and soberly crowded at the same time than the act of hiding a flex straw in it almost is impossible. It is abundantly rich indeed, yet does not collapse under its own weight at all. It moves with elegant convince power and avid T-Rex dignity, keeping the rampant shapes it is fond of revealing well defined and clear in their mere sonic mass. Rejects is an album that sounds to have all kinds of radical doubts and caveats regarding the state of existence, so expect an LP that is openly out there to hunt you down and waste your hide on spot. Scarce are the times that the release goes mid-tempo, and, even when it does, the repressed-, lurking aggression remains super-evident, and it is never can contained for too long without being expressed avidly in the sonic fabric again.

Feared's latest has a set of favorite musical behaviors, and the name of the primer game evidently is Pantera's T-Rex being on one of its cavernous rampages, but, this time, the Animal sports cable veins, red semaphore eyes and hot steam breath, and comes to affect your musical receptors with such elaborately layered multi-guitar death-squadron work that the results have a tendency to border on a great sense of analog industrial, ye!. You have to admire this album for the "who gives a shit, really" attitude it truly emerges a triumphant representative of along its rampant way. Track number 5, called "Grmph!" - hmpf - starts out with highly intellectual "let's hack music" jazz Joe Scofield would nod on, but, at the endpoint of the gesture, you are subjected to exceptionally rabid groove metal, playfully, haughtily flattering the robust nature of unforgiving death standards. Read on if you are ready to be sonically devoured.


For a little amount of time, the record ventures on to cautiously experiment with djent for one series of bars or two - track called Godlike - and this variation, this take on odd rhythmization is something the contribution looks more flamboyant and well balanced with, especially considering how the consecutive direct occurrences are once again projecting lights on the supremely aggressive side of groove death collision the record is primordial dire spawn of.

The best aspect of this LP is the mere weight it communicates itself with. As noted, this is so brutally and relentlessly crowded with mean fat guitars full of bad intent that it truly is a feat to witness and hear how they emerge as a functional sonic mess nevertheless. The vocals are very skillfully "painted" - in a good, well defined way - over these robust blocks of sound structures, never seeking to claim or to inhabit dear frequency room from the deeps, and they compliment the riff-monsters as mid-range faces that are drawn on the deeps, instead. A very sober, elegant production decision.

The vocal contribution, for the most part, is a pissed off effected grunting like Philip Anselmo would have the Incredible Hulk going on, - on track number 9, the melodic singing is a "look! I'm an Anselmo fanboy!" statement, and I personally find nothing wrong with that, because look!, I'm an Anselmo fanboy, too! - while, during the more soulful instrumental breaks and quasi-metalcorish choruses, orthodox clean singing is utilized. These sequences are way better though than standard metalcorish melodrama bullshitsniffing, and the reason for this is the record's consistent agenda to stick for quite steep musical standards as far as "mere" melodic invention, riffcraft and legit idea-administration are concerned, which are top of the food chain aspects of the related hopes worth sculpting and cultivating. Also elements this record delivers commandingly, relevantly and seriously along. Not much else to say regarding the matter. This album is out to destruct, you are in its way, and you want to press play.

Rating : 9.2 / 10

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Self Inflicted - Ten Years of Punishment

Year : 2011
Genre : Southern Sludge, Groove Metal
Label : Independent
Origin : United States
Rating : 9.0 / 10

Self-Inflicted is larger than life, over the top Texan sludge mayhem all administered in the spirit of mid-tempo Pantera. There is only one name to the game on this 16 tons release, and that, not surprisingly, is the mid-tempo groove with such a pronounced rumble as an industrial iron-disc cutter. Ten Years of Punishment won't relent delivering the powerful mid tempo and will exhibit skills on how to project lights on the beast without the leash, finding the exact emotional territories Pantera sounds to draw its aggressive riffs and sonic architectures from. The riffcraft is especially fat and mean on this baby, a good example I'm listening to right now is the track called "Fat Bag of Hate", - stellar title, too! - with a main riff that has all its elements "slithered off" compared to the regions they seem to belong to. Inventiveness and authenticity are primer characteristics, and this is not the direst of strikes you need to endure during an incarnation. Read on to find out more about this spiky, hungry, angry-ass crocodile.


The band Crowbar also comes to mind when similarities between this and its probable influences seek identification. Imagine the tightest blend possible between Pantera and Crowbar, and you will have a solid impression of where these bad men are coming from.

Sure, it is not hard to get carried away and be overly enthusiastic if you are hooked on a particular piece and/or character of music, - this is the damn point, actually - but, regarding this release I truly fail to worry all too much about these fortunate leanings, as I dare say that this by far is the most authentic, most unalloyed, properly faithful and properly in-your-face open bare southern sludge I have heard since the originators. It does not seek to "add" anything new-, spicy, "little something"-grade obtrusive fancy camelshit to the crocodile sludge you crave in the first place.

The compositions truly are intact and reign well focused-, playful and exigent all the way, the band throws in some superb instrumental work from time to time, and these are never of such pronounced presence as to even endanger the relentless cultivation of the ubiquitous sludge which reigns as the primer content on this robust release. I particularly like the lyrics, too, at least the elements I can make out without a textbook. "Unending truuuuth, you will be miii-iiine, no need to doubt, or question whyyyy." These are sexy and relevant lyrics, especially when they are delivered with the power of the sludge, and not on an epicness-craver ethos like sword wielder !PAUA! metal. Last track on the release sounds to be a hidden track of some sort, and this is about sporting big balls. It intentionally is over the top and anti-serious, and remains great fun as hidden track, in my opinion.

The vocal contribution of the lead singer dudette demands mentioning yet. I have never heard such an approach as he comes along from so far, as this man, for a much welcomed change, does not seek to imitate the timber of the Philip Anselmo like I do in the song Supreme Sacrifice - check for the line : "it made me believe" - instead, the fronter of Self Inflicted delivers in a register that sounds to be an unusual blend between Anselmo's Tazmanian Devil scream and a death metal growl. Pretty sick. Check out the 1:20 mark in track number 2 called "Die". The dude here sings : "we all diiiiie." And the way he sings this, does not leave all that much place to further inquiries, either.

- Hello OH!, Voodoo Mistress. I'm afraid to die. Why do I have this fear of death?

- Because you invite that fear.

Rating : 9.0 / 10

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Djentagram - Thirteen by Thirty-Six review

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

Rating : 8.5 / 10

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X-Panda - Flight of Fancy review

Year : 2011
Genre : Progressive Melodic Fusion
Label : X-Panda
Origin : Estonia
Rating : 9.8 / 10

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Section below quoted from here.

"Band Biography:

X-Panda is a progressive rock and fusion band from Estonia. The band is known for their concerts full of emotion and power - pure pleasure for people who like to dream, imagine and feel. The music of X-Panda will move both experienced musicians and just music lovers, because it is full of surprises and mood changes, sounds, complex rhythms, rhythmic illusions, jazz fusion chord progressions and passages, heavy or cruel guitar riffs and all that altered with heroic film music theme-like melodies that one can sing along.  

X-Panda tries to expand their musical horizon and knowledge by creating technically and musically more entertaining music for themselves in the first place. The band was founded as a one time project for a song competition in april 2009. Founding members were Kaarel Tamra, Risto Virkhausen, Karl-Juhan Laanesaar and Liis Ring. They ended up winning the competition with a song "Linnukesed Siristavad". The feedback for such unusual music approach was extremely positive, so they decided to continue as a band. In August 2009, Tamar Nugis joined X-Panda, replacing Liis Ring on bass. X-Panda has won several competitions, including the title Noortebänd 2010, which is one of the two biggest band competitions held in Estonia. X-Panda has released their debut album Flight of Fancy which can be bought on www.cdbaby.com/cd/xpanda"

Section above from here.

X-Panda's debut full length is easily amidst the most profoundly positive audio experiences you could have this year, and it also marks the second time this diligently nihilistic music review site Noise Shaft ALMOST had to give maximum points at minimum - again. Luckily, I realized that the singing on this otherwise truly stunning LP is pretty "meh" grade, but, do not be afraid, as this is an instrumental spin first and foremost, and a truly amazing one for that. Flight of Fancy, for the most part, is a hyperstellar mindwarp project, and it contains only a little amount of vocal presence when witnessed as a full spin. The primer agenda of the release is that which the official band biography informs you of indeed, namely : to create music that the band members find uncompromisingly entertaining. The analogy of this - current - week emerges once again : to deliver with a clear conscience. Since you won't be given any chance to not-get-, let alone dismiss any part of this gigantic release as alibi, your best bet is to line up all your expectations at the wall, then start this LP and watch them evolve in real time.


It does not matter how finely calibrated your musical receivers are, they will be entertained thoroughly this time, as result of being graced with sonic data that is deliberately engineered with the delight of the positive snob in mind. The music that targets the delight of the positive snob, is not afraid to admit that it seeks to be appreciated, because it knows that all music seeks to be appreciated, no exception.

The reasons X-Panda's Flight of Fancy operates so efficiently, are numerous. One aspect I personally think is focal regarding its grandiose workings, is the fact that this album is not heavy at all. Even when it IS heavy(er), it is not a cumbersome liability to decipher, to spiritually endure, it instead remains clear as a window you can look through, only what you behold might be something more menacing than AH!, looksie, a viewtiful pink flower!. The soulful solo guitar work is an especially important component on the release, as you will often find your awareness tracing a solo since who-knows-how-long-it-has-been-really. These eloquent passages, though central elements, are never the only sights to behold, on the other hand. It is quite safe to say that each and every ingredient of the builds leads an autonomous life and enjoys a valid function in the sonic micro-economy. In titular track, "Flight of Fancy", - reminds one to Joe Satriani's "Flying in a Blue Dream" in character, I don't think accidentally - the fabric exhibits at least 7 complex chords at a simple turnaround, and the bass gives the comfy five for each one of them when they show up.

Music is supposed to be fun at the very least, and, once it is planned, composed and built this seriously and is given the meticulous amount of due work these levels and shapes demand by their mere nature, the results truly emerge as nothing sort of marvelous, beside remaining faithful to the state of still being fun at the core, as well. As noted, the vocals on the release are not too superb, - they are "interesting, you want to try again?" - but at least, there is not much of it on the LP. (It still is better than James LaBrie's horrendous slime rhetorics though, but far from the power and articulation of Anubis Gate's top notch Henrik Fevre, who is the Man in this clean mid-range emotional singing style.)

Yet, from an instrumental point of view, which is the essential attribute of this release, X-Panda's Flight of Fancy is an immediate variant on truly successful sci-fi music that emerges rampant while it consciously and wisely chooses to go easy on the ears. Obtaining a copy should be one of your top priorities, and, as such, the album also is recommended.

Rating : 9.8 / 10

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