Epic in Concert

Last spring some friends from Portland invited me to hang at a local concert in Eugene. They had some friends who were traveling down the coast on tour, opening up for a band called Loom. True to college form, I ended up taking the opportunity to avoid my schoolwork in favor of a show and drinks with friends. I sadly missed most of openers, including their friends, but I did get to see all of Loom’s set. They came off like a band that was either five years behind the scene, or five ahead. I was given quick rundown of what to expect, At The Drive-In post-hardcore intensity with a violin that brings to mind Cursive’s instrumental formula. What got left out were the skirmishing math breakdowns that pass through briefly, then disappear behind an angry mob of chorus. By the end of the show, I had joined into the crowd.

The night only got better. My friends picked me a Loom T-shirt and E.P., Angler (2006), as well as the record label, Exigent, sampler mix, The Colors of Sound Breathing V. 1. I gave the sampler a listen and really liked two bands, Gaza and Sweet Jesus. Sweet Jesus has release just a S/T, two song EP, and I have not heard any noise about future recordings or happenings, which is sad because they played a badass hybrid of punk spazz and metal sludge. Gaza has gained some attention and have released an EP, East (2004), and an LP on Black Market Activities, I Don’t Care Where I Go When I Die (2006), to solid reviews. The bands lyrics are whimsical, citing American Idol's Ryan Seacrest amongst others. In the end though, the lyrics are unintelligible, like most extreme metal vocals since the late eighties. Debating over the lyrical strengths is dwarfed by the intensity of the vocal performance, and Gaza's are nasty. What makes them stand out is that they demonstrate little concern for a specific genre convention; the guy is just trying to heave his lungs from his chest. The bands sound is a Math/Grindcore combo, somewhere between Botch and Meshuggah. The guitar work and grind-wall are bound by some chunky time signatures that stomp all over each other. In the broad world of metalcore, I can see these guys getting some love from the Dillinger/Converge pack that’s ready to step outside and go on the prowl.

This month I decided to check back in after not hearing much from the label. While Gaza has moved on to bigger things and Sweet Jesus hasn’t really moved at all, I was happy to see a new band making a their presence felt. Exigent is based in Salt Lake City but has recently moved into Portland and signed a band called Diesto. Isle of Marauder is Diesto’s first release with Exigent is some of the best doom metal I have run across this year. While Neurosis has been the genre’s bulldozer since the early nineties, bands like Isis and Pelican have brought progressive doom to the surface from the underground and are headliners of a recent trend in American metal, and now with Marauder, Diesto have begun carved their name in landscape. Their approach, in an already crowded room, grabs your attention almost immediately by scraping against the hammer throw with some Industrial-style production. It’s still heavy as hell, but rings coarse when compared to dominant codes in the scene. On their band MySpace page they list "soul" as an genre influence. You can hear it, if anywhere, in the guitar solos strangely enough. The band also shows an early affinity for rock dynamics, like on “Monarch,” when instead of just rolling down a long treaded path, a seven minute march charges ahead into fist-throwing punk glory. The epic closer "Black Water" ceeps in with leading guitars, punishes for over ten minutes, then has the guitars return only to put the album to rest. Isle of Marauder is doom metal churned out of a junkyard crusher, and for Diesto, a very promising start. Check these guys out.

Committed

Today it snowed and I decided to give the new Ghostface a listen. As a precursor to listening to the album, I had heard all sorts of things said about the Clan regarding their new album and RZA’s production not being up to par. Both albums dropped within a week of each other, and with the added drama, it’s not hard to imagine battle lines being drawn between the two. This aside, The Big Doe Rehab continues the streak of amazing albums by Ghostface in recent years. It’s rare to find an artist that is this consistent. Big Doe doesn’t have the scope of Fishscale (2006), keeping subject matter in the status quo of drugs, women, and money. Fishscale was at times confessional, reflecting on the fast life. Rehab doesn’t dwell on the past as much as it gets caught up in the good times ("We Celebrate” ft. Kid Capri), while his talent for dramatic story telling is kept in tact, showcased on part II of the drug robbery series “Shakey Dog,” ft. Raekwon and Lolita. Production credits include The Hitmen amongst others, and continues Ghost’s signature feel for soulful sampling and New York ruckus. This is classic Ghostface Killah and just a flat-out great album. Thank you snow day.

Side Tracked

For the past couple years I have made it a major priority in my life to go up to Portland and see the Mountain Goats perform at the Doug Fir Lounge. The Mountain Goats are a must see and the Doug Fir is a hip new spot in the rose city with a cool basement stage area, probably why John decides to play there every year. This year, he is actually coming to Eugene and playing the WOW hall, so I am actually debating seeing both shows this year. I could go on about the Mountain Goats* forever being one of my favorite bands period, but this sojourn has come to serve a different purpose as well.

Back in 06’ I walked about ten minutes late into the opening act for the Mountain Goats, a single woman was on stage with a very small arrangement of piano, keyboard, and iBook. She sang and played the keys behind a computerized percussion track, nothing really jaw-dropping at first listen, but I soon warmed up to something unfamiliar. Her name was Barbara Morgenstern, she’s German, sings in German, and writes some amazingly lush tunes for a living. Her piano and voice stood nicely in contrast to the digital background, partly because she was singing in German, a language that I know exactly kaput. As soon as I got home I looked into her newest release, The Grass is Always Greener (2006), and loved it.

The next year a band named the Pony Up! was rolling out the carpet. While I was less impressed this time around, a couple of drinks with some friends had us later wandering over to pick up their album, Make Love To The Judges With Your Eyes (2006), and flirt a little with the band. The album has grown on me, despite not having one of their best songs “Wet,” which I got to see live, while it did feature cool song title and single “The Truth About Cats And Dogs (Is That They Die).” If you can’t get enough toe-tapping indie pop, these are your girls.

This year the Goats crew are bringing along fellow North Carolina scenesters, The Moaners. They’re a female duo playing syrupy noise rock and it will be interesting to see an opener with some teeth this time. The band draws from Pavement/Sonic Youth's cluttered distortion and the upbeat, post-punk tempo that almost seems standard in today’s indie world. What makes The Moaners fresh is a grating blues guitar, slathered on top of the familiar mix. The guitar howls, not in a Hendrix kind of way, but like a stray dog at the front door. Similar “duo” bands like the Kills don’t get this sloppy, who instead scratch at dance rock from the outside looking in, while the Moaners let their hair down and get their hands dirty. There's even a Saw and Harmonica that find time to slide in, adding a little depth beyond the standard guitar/drum uniform. While still a young band, they have captured my attention and got me debating which LP to snatch up when I see them in person, I'm just happy they chose to moan on my front stoop.

*The new Mountain Goats album, Heretic Pride, is out Feb. 19th. He has released one song over the Internet and is soon coming out with a video directed by Ace Norton. Goats rule!

In Review

Now that the year has come to an end, I feel obligated to deliver a “Best-of-Year” list. I think that to some degree, these miss the entire point of good criticism because music doesn't conform to a linear set of standards. There is no constructive way to rate albums against each other since different genres strive for a different emotional release, and to a greater degree, language does little to describe emotion. Comparing Big Business’s Here Come the Waterworks against Marissa Nadler's Songs III: Bird on the Water is a free fall through the abyss and all I've got is a flashlight. It’s been good 07', so long:

Profanatica – De Domonatia
Babyshambles – Shotter’s Nation
Rock Plaza Central – Are We Not Horses
Prodigy – Return of the Mac
Old Time Relijun – Catharsis In Crisis
Black Moth Super Rainbow - Dandelion Gum
Laethora – March of the Parasite
Pissed Jeans – Hope for Men
Bomb the Music Industry! – Get Warmer
Scarface – Made
The Long Blondes – Someone to Drive You Home
Pig Destroyer – Phantom Limb
Bowerbirds – Hymns for a Dark Horse
Panda Bear - Person Pitch

These are in no order at all. Like I said, things like this are difficult contain. For example, Sa-Ra’s Hollywood Recordings didn’t make my list but was one of the most entertaining/funky pieces of music I have heard in a while. There were also tons of albums that I never got to listen to, including Christine Fellows's Nevertheless* and Foetopsy's In the Bathroom. Then there are some records that I technically shouldn't’t really be listening to in the first place, like Vampire Weekend’s S/T debut, which is officially released later this month. Hell, I haven’t even heard the new Radiohead album. On that note, don’t bother me - I’m busy.

*Sixshooter! I am STILL waiting…album please.

Detour

Back in 2003 I was fortunate enough to pick up Freeway's debut, Philadelphia Freeway. It came on the heels of Jay-Z’s The Blue Print (2001/my favorite Jay-Z album) and saw Roc-A-Fella records climb to the forefront of the Hip-Hop hype machine. They had a solid MC roster and two of the best producers in the game, Just Blaze and an up and comer by the name of Kanye West. Freeway had arrived at just the right time to take advantage of the momentum, and Philadelphia Freeway didn’t disappoint. The album featured Freeway’s distinct growl, not stopping to catch a rookie breather, and was almost entirely produced by the two dynamite sound boys previously mentioned. An impressive debut to say the least.

Now four years later he has returned with a follow-up, Free at Last, with intentions of bringing the fire back to life. The problem this time is that while Freeway was out, the home turf got a little messy. Beanie Siegel, the man who brought Freeway to Roc-A-Fella, ran into legal trouble and his State Property crew fell apart. All the chaos killed Freeway’s limelight going into a second release and he seemed to disappear off the map with his State Property peers.

On Free at Last, the big name producers are missing (the only returnee is Bink!) and have taken the hype machine with them. Bink!’s production is still strong, “Still Got Love” is one of the albums best tracks and he plays some funky live drums on “When They Remember.” Overall, the album lacks diversity and plateaus half way through, but some gems appear in the mix. The beat by Dangerous LLC on “Spit that Shit” is a solid Dr.Dre impression and Scarface* comes to the rescue on “Baby Don’t Do It.” The albums two worst tracks are the radio friendly "Roc-A-Fella Billionaires" ft. Jay-Z and "Take It To The Top" ft. 50 Cent, both executive producers on the album, evidence that Rap’s royalty no longer have the Midas touch. Free at Last, does not stand up to Freeway’s debut, but shows plenty of heart when the chips are down. He's proven he can make it on his own, which is actually something new this time.

*The new Scarface is ridiculous. It has yet to leave my rotation since it came out and should contend for “Album of the Year,” no matter the genre, more on this later.

Spellbound Part 2

The Northwest. Surrounding Cascades and dense forests provide a view that never strays too long before turning up and into a bent wall trees. Most escape to the valleys to find some space to roam, but the regions trademark is the hymnal of roots that reach towards the heavens through a canopy of limbs. Then, it begins to rain. Throughout most of the year, a steady dirge of rainfall gathers the dead and rotting earth, and carries it to some swift and cold depth. The constant downpour seems to weigh on time as much as it does the land. A long grey winter soaks into your bones, the rising mist drawn in through every breath. You learn to live in a fog, wake in the night.


For Wolves in the Throne Room (and yours truly), this is home. Home, and then some, to the extent that they have decided to shed all trappings of “civilian life” and dwell completely immersed in the forests of rural Olympia, WA. Their second release, Two Hunters, is a reverent oath to their world, beyond the sight of average daily life, born from the hidden realms of a lost time. In the symphonic vein of black metal, Wolves in the Throne Room are reminiscent of Burzum’s brooding melancholy and extended composition. The production isn’t heavily tampered with, but the album sounds beautiful. The tremolo guitar work resonates powerfully without overpowering the low end, the drums aren’t triggered but audible when raining down. It gives great depth for the guitars and bass to well up from under, like a looming sky surrounding the driving percussion.

The band chooses not to focus on Satan in subject matter, relying instead on nature’s unrelenting path and force. While the emotions that stir when in the alone in wilderness have always been a part of black metal, at least the second generation, it defines Wolves', and like Burzum, Two Hunters sacrifices raw aggression for a desolate serenity. Then, there are more subtle touches in the mix, adding some corners to turn. First track “Dia Artio” opens with sounds of the forest night before a sweeping synth takes over the reigns. On “Cleansing” a brewing storm is haunted by guest female vocalist Jessica Kinney, a rarely seen aspect in Black Metal, and is one of the albums greatest moments. While there is no real new ground broken with Two Hunters, Wolves in the Throne Room have created a triumph of black metal, true to their hallowed roots.

Spellbound Part 1

Black metal, or at least as it is known today, got started back in the late 80’s in Norway (This does not include the first generation, but Venom also influenced Metallica, so there you go). Seeing as I was working with Saturday morning cartoons at this time, not Pagan Occultism, I really had no chance at hearing A Blaze in the Northern Sky, and even if I did, I’m sure it would have been traumatized me for months. So, like many fans of the genre, especially in the current world of Metal, we end up rushing the gate a little bit later…okay, a lot later. I admittedly was late getting into Metal, like less than five years ago. The nineties were amazingly cruel to the genre and in my neighborhood of Beanbag hippies and Chrisitan all-stars, the bleak underground of black metal was worlds away from my ears.

A decade plus later here I am dying to talk about the genre and even getting a chance to represent my home turf in the process. A far cry from Norway, America has always taken a back seat in black metal, owning the rites to death metal instead. While this year shows that Scandinavia is still strong with releases by seminal bands like Mayhem (Ordo Ad Chao) and Marduk (Rom 5:12), there are also some great efforts made in the good ol’ U.S.A.

Profanatica is from New York and has been around since the early days, and so underground that it took them almost two decades to release an LP. There were demos and “Best of” compilations along the way, but no definitive statement to match the second-generation greats, like Anthems to the Welkin at Dusk (Emperor) or Storm of the Light's Bane (Dissection). De Domonatia is one, a conjuring of satanic worship, and oddly second, a fusion of American prog/doom. Fans that are holding on to Deathcrush “kvlt” will detest the guitar tone because it “drones,” instead of offering the scathing low-fi of traditional black metal. The album is full of classic tremolo work, but powerfully cloaked, mixed down to the extent that the guitar is almost indistinguishable from the bass, like a molten tide rising beneath Paul Ledney’s monstrous vocals. Even some of the dynamics drudge along, like on “Scourging and Crowning,” adding to the doom influence. Song titles and lyrics are pure blasphemy, with names like “A Fallen God, Dethroned In Heaven" and “Cursed Nazarene Whore.” To sum up, Ledney ends the album screaming “I’ll turn this fucking religion to the ground!!!” With De Domonatia, Profanatica is back in a huge way.