March 18, 2016 by Brian Krasman - 4 Comments

PICK OF THE WEEK: Cobalt’s back from the ashes, devastate like never before on ‘Slow Forever’

There are bands that really need no introduction and whose reputations precede them. Whether that’s for good or bad. Cobalt is kind of a mix of the two. They are well known for delivering emotional, savage, raw opuses, which they’ve managed to do for the past decade. Yet for the past two years, a darker pall came over the band for entirely different reasons.

Cobalt have two amazing documents to their resume, that being their 2007 sophomore effort “Eater of Birds” and 2009’s Hemingway- and Hunter S. Thompson-inspired “Gin,” my absolute favorite album of that year. In fact, it’s an album that’s had utmost importance to me ever since it arrived, and it is one of those stranded-on-a-desert-island choices for music I’d demand to have with me. The band even briefly toured, hitting up 2013’s Maryland Deathfest for an unforgettable set, and taking a short jaunt after that. Yet, trouble was brewing underneath. It was announced vocalist Phil McSorley would drop out of the band, leaving multi-instrumentalist Erik Wunder on his own. Then he was back, and new material was in the works. Then, in the winter of 2014, McSorley went on a senseless, hate-filled tirade making him a pariah or hero in the metal world, depending on where you stand, and some time later, Wunder told the world he could not work with McSorley anymore, and once again, he was gone from the fold.

That move, quite obviously, was a good one. But it did pose the question of who would take over on vocals. For all of McSorley’s problems and ridiculous behavior online, he was the perfect mouthpiece for Cobalt. His hatred and rage were apparent and tangible in the band’s music, and it wasn’t like he was some kind of interchangeable part. It was going to take someone with just as dark and deranged an outlook to match Wunder’s musical intensity, and it turns out that man is former Lord Mantis member Charlie Fell. It’s not like Fell was without his scars, though he’s taken time to explain the matters publicly, but his demeanor and approach seemed perfect to send Cobalt into its new era. And with the arrival of “Slow Forever,” the long-awaited new double-album, it’s abundantly clear he was the right choice. He adds a different level of danger to the band, a vulnerability, and an unhinged humanity. He shrieks and rages, though when it’s time to pull back, he does capably. As for Wunder, well, his prowess has been well known, and he crafts some amazing, captivating, genre-smashing songs here that breathe fresh new life into this unstoppable machine that is Cobalt.

“Hunt the Buffalo” opens the record with an Americana-style buzz, stretching and kicking up dust until the track opens in earnest. Fell’s vocals join the fray for the first time, sounding maniacal and on edge, yet at the same time methodical. “I am not a man, I am just a dog,” Fell howls as the track delivers equal parts savagery and poetic torment, all disappearing all of a sudden. “Animal Law” provides a quick breather right away, and all-acoustic instrumental track that’s hypnotic and barrels into “Ruiner” that punches and bruises right away. The vocals are furious, while the music changes tempos at will, sometimes simmering at mid-tempo, blowing down the doors in other spots. Wunder keeps adding new elements musically, the guitars slurring, feedback warming over, while Fell is a beast, mostly shrieking with terrifying strength. As the song winds down, melodies bubble up, sounding like a passage that followed Cobalt from their back catalog, and a relentless barrage of pounding ends the track. “Beast Whip” is a total killer, the first song they allowed the public to hear, and it’s for good reason. It has an opening that reminds of the “Eater of Birds” title cut, with a merciless build that pushes the blood into your head. Fell is in full command. ramping up the violence as the song makes it way through, and with each twist of sweltering riffs, sped-up tempos, and path changes, the vicious message remains sturdy and breathing down your neck. The rhythmic spine of the song remains solid, while they get in a few more good stops before the track gasps its last. “King Rust” also has a dusty start, as a long, calculated build takes place before it rips the fuck open. The vocals smear soot everywhere, with Fell repeating, “Hoisting myself out of myself,” as the guitars cut across, and later the song bursts anew. “Can I resist?” Fell wonders aloud, as the guitars charge up and scorch, with Fell realizing, “I resist.” “Breathe” is another short instrumental that has a folk/country feel to it and later lifts a fog over everything.

“Cold Breaker” unleashes a burly bassline, with the song striking hard, crunching and overwhelming, as Fell takes his horrific shots. The song hits an interesting groove, letting you feel the filth, and the vocals actually get more monstrous than before. The music matches the anxiety of the howls, and melodic bursts provide the first hint of anything remotely approachable by the uneducated. “Elephant Graveyard” takes some time to really set its hooks. Steely guitars and heavy stomps accompany Fell, as he chokes, “Giant fingers applying the pressure.” The track speeds up and gets nasty, with vocals patterns repeating to dizzy, and the tempo chugging along. The back end of the track lights the fires again before everything sizzles out. “Final Will” also has a heavy bass stampede out front, with the song obliterating the senses, and vicious growls laying in the bruises. Later on, a militaristic drum line sets up, feeling like it’s warning of an oncoming storm, and then the violence bursts anew and takes the track to the ending fires. “Iconoclast” revisits Hemingway, with clips from his Nobel Prize speech laced into the instrumental piece. As the song glows in its embers, Hemingway’s line, “He will endure or be forgotten, a line he addressed to all writers but can apply to any creator, plays on loop. The title track follows, feeling like classic Cobalt musically as its gets on its way, with an ominous cloud hanging overhead, and Fell howling, “Skin to skeleton,” over and over again.There are bursts of speed, unquestionable mystery, and finally a thick fog of sound that drags the track, and seemingly the album, to its resting place. That’s when hidden track “Siege” arrives in a storm of static, crushing guitars, and desperate howls from Fell, giving the record a finish that feels like planets colliding.

Drama and upheaval be damned, there is no stopping Cobalt. Wunder is at the top of his game once again, stretching beyond black metal and letting some dustier influences bleed into the work. Fell is the right voice at the right time, and “Slow Forever” is a triumphant return that re-establishes this band as one of the most important and forceful in all of metal. There are bands that operate outside the spectrum of everything else that’s going on, and Cobalt is one of them. They’ve established their own world that’s far too dangerous for anyone else to inhabit.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/COBALT-109020659128531

To buy the album, go here: https://profoundlorerecords.com/slowforever/

For more on the label, go here: https://www.profoundlorerecords.com/

November 6, 2014 by Brian Krasman - 0 comments

Old Man Gloom return to their tricky, crushing activities with ‘The Ape of God’ … Both of them!

It’s nice to know there are things in metal you still can rely on. While there are a handful of labels and bands I pretty much can be assured will offer up quality with each new release, knowing where I can place my trust isn’t so easy these days. Come to think of it, maybe I need better things to worry about.

Anyhow, one of those bands that always seems to do us right is Old Man Gloom, the long-running sludge/doom/noise/post-hardcore/you-name-it band comprised of some of the most respected members of metal’s underground. The band has been a major part of a lot of people’s lives and musical taste formation for the past 15 years, and when they returned in 2012 with “No” after an eight-year absence, it was hard to separate feelings from critical analysis because it was so good to have them back together. And it turns out, two years later, that album still crushes. But that was just the first step in their new journey, as they’re back with the smashing “The Ape of God,” their first for Profound Lore. Yeah, everything you like about the band is here, from the muddy devastation to the roared vocals to the brainy compositions, but they branch out their sound even more and come up with some nice surprises.

The members of OMG should be well known to most. Obviously you have Aaron Turner of ISIS (the band, not the terrorist organization, you idiots) on guitars and vocals; Nate Newton of Converge and Doomriders on guitars and vocals; Caleb Scofield of Cave In and Zozobra on bass and vocals; and Santos Montano (he plays live with Zozobra) on drums. That lineup in unquestionably great, not just based on their stellar resumes, but because of the awesome music they’ve made together over the course of six records now. The music makes “The Ape of God” an instant charmer, one that from the first ride I had with the thing, I was ready to go back and take it all in again. It’s only grown on me from here, and it’s arguably my favorite of their releases to date. Again, ask me in two years.

Oh, but hold on! Just like when OMG essentially told no one about the creation of “No” and released it basically out of the blue, “The Ape of God” is yet another trick they whipped out of their sleeves! “The Ape of God” are two completely different records with the same name and about 90 minutes worth of music. What we’re reviewing here are eight tracks, out of order, that basically make up a sampler of sorts that was given to the media as the official promo. I have yet to hear each record in their entirety, and down the line, we’ll perhaps come back and add to this piece. But what I’ve heard is a fair enough indication, I think, and a hilarious gotcha from Old Man Gloom, Profound Lore, and SIGE. You jerk bastards!

Aptly titled “Fist of Fury” is served up first, beginning with a pocket of sound that makes you think the band is heading toward ambiance, but then the noise starts to sizzle. The band steamrolls forward, with everything sounding like it’s being fried in electrics, and Turner’s easily recognizable barks bursts and pummels. Up next is “The Lash,” another track that has a misleading start, seeming to float in mid-air before a thick bassline lays down the tracks, hypnotic melodies punish and mystify, and monstrous growls emerge that are heavy enough to cave your chest. “Predators” is burly and gruff, with Turner howling, “I will live forever,” with sludgy atmospherics piling on top. The band just keeps striking, with the end of the track bathing in corrosive material and what sounds like warped angels on high layering the background in doom. That bleeds into 9:22 “Shoulder Meat,” a really interesting cut that actually sounds like ISIS in spots (especially when the icy synth lines roll in). There are equal amounts brutality and spacious wonder, with pockets of noise soaring like the wind, levels of sound being built, and the track finally relenting its grip slowly.

“Simia Dei” is driven forward by Montano’s drums, leading into a much different-sounding cut and an instrumental. Some of the sounds feel like they’re from the calmest reaches of space, and the guitar work even gets poppy in spots, sort of like a burlier Torche. “Never Enter” has static spitting sparks, the tempo speeding up, and screamier vocals from Scofield. The song is faster, punchier, and more vicious than what preceded it, which is saying something since this thing hasn’t exactly been easy listening so far. “Promise” sinks into vocal drone and lets the doom hammer drop, pounding you relentlessly and making you feel miserable along the way. Vocal duties gets traded back and forth (with Newton starting and Turner finishing), changing up the voice of the track, and the final moments spiral and finally go dark. Finally, “Aarows to Our Hearts” runs 14:10, and it’s a pretty interesting one. What sound like doom horns ring out, signaling the dark clouds overhead, and strings rise up and set an eerie tone. The guitar work enters ominously, with clean singing instead of growls, and sea-sick melodies pushing you back and forth. The bulk of the song is moody and dreary, but with a few minutes to spare, the pace begins to get nasty, jangling guitars turn muddy, and the guys starts pounding away again. Turner’s growl registers its final statements, with he and the band howling in unison, and the lurching, beastly mashing gives way to mercy, but only after you’ve been sufficiently punished. This is one hell of a song, one of the most captivating tracks in Old Man Gloom’s gloried catalog.

Devastating but intelligent, abrasive but thought-provoking, Old Man Gloom again prove you can make uncompromising, heavy music and still give people something substantive to walk away from, and not just meat-headed heaviness. “The Ape of God” may be a reference the destruction of mankind, but it sounds like another creative rebirth for this band of tested veterans. Their music already is revered for its daring history, and it can be embraced now for its volcanic present and surely earth-blazing future. If anyone can even guess as to what that future is, as OMG never will show their hand until they’re right in front of you.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Old-Man-Gloom/41173493966

To buy the albums, go here: https://www.profoundlorerecords.com/products-page/

Or here (for vinyl, coming soon): http://sigerecords.merchtable.com/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.profoundlorerecords.com/

Or here: http://sigerecords.blogspot.com/

October 17, 2014 by Brian Krasman - 0 comments

PICK OF THE WEEK: Menace Ruine’s dreamy beauty shines through the darkness on ‘Venus Armata’

Beauty in metal and heavier music is not a commonly written-about topic here. That’s not on purpose. I guess the natural inclination is to steer toward the dark, violent, depressing, crushing. Plus, since we avoid symphonic metal outright, there’s not much chance to discuss lovely sounds in what’s an otherwise dark musical format.

Not that Menace Ruine don’t have their dark moments, but what I generally find when taking on this Montreal-based duo are sounds that reveal incredible colors, emotional depth, and music that doesn’t make me want to maim and pillage. Instead, I want to reach out with my imagination and keep dreaming. I want to stretch my creativity. I want to escape inside these sounds and absorb every beam of light they emit. The band’s music, which isn’t really metal but certainly can slip over and impact that audience, is a mesmerizing mix of drone, neofolk, gothic sounds, atmosphere, and the spellbinding singing of Genevieve Beaulieu, which are as alive and transcendent as ever on their new, fifth album “Venus Armata.” In fact, even if the sounds don’t grab you at first (expertly put together by S de la Moth), the voice will, and you might find yourself hanging on every breath without even knowing you’re doing it.

Menace Ruine have had a prolific, yet criminally under-appreciated run ever since their formation in 2007. Having offered their debut full-length “Cult of Ruins” in 2008, they’ve reported back pretty regularly, following with “The Die Is Cast” that same year, “Union of Irreconcilables” in 2010, and their Profound Lore debut “Alight in Ashes” in 2012. They’ve also had their work released by noted labels such as SIGE, Alien8, and Aurora Borealis, and they’ve slowly built their following while sharpening their incredible work. On “Venus Armata,” they have put together their best work to date, and while it may take a few visits for the songs to begin taking root, once they do, you’re gone. You can feel the power and spirit pulsating in these songs, and the journey on which you should take mentally will leave you enriched and intellectually refreshed. That’s something brutality hardly ever gives to you.

“Soften Our Evil Hearts” begins the record with cold bells chiming, noise drone rising and getting lathered up, and the atmosphere continually building. Beaulieu’s vocals join the mix, and her mesmerizing ways snake through the song, always keeping you alert and wary. The music feels like a thick fog, with the signing coming on like it’s directing an early morning spiritual, with the tempo twisting and treading up to the end. “Red Sulphur” is a great track and might be my favorite in this band’s entire canon. A blanket of sound feels like they’re being emitted from ancient organs, and Beaulieu unreal vocals kick in. She sounds like a magisterial storyteller, and her harmonies are completely arresting and infectious. Psychedelic sounds arrive, and drums even push things ahead, but all the while the singing is the hook, one of the great performances of the year that should make other singers jealous. It’s hard to do this justice in words. Go listen to it. “Marriage in Death” has slowly delivered drumming, with guitar squall settling in and the singing sounding more solemn. The track bobs slowly on its waves, navigating you through the night, leaving your body quivering like the music. “Soothing But Cruel” is a fitting title for the song it represents, as there’s a deep chill in the air that could sting your cheeks, with emotional vocals that leave cracks in the glaze that forms over top. The composition is glimmering and frosty, with the sounds floating, and eventually dissolving into a deep buzz.

“Belly of the Closed House” stretches over 9:56, and it has piercing strings, a melody that cuts right through the thing, and layer upon layer of atmospheric playing stacked so high, you can’t see the top. Eventually the vocals emerge, sounding like something magically recorded out of a dream, and the last portion of the song begins to weigh a little heavier, with thick drone and a penetrating show of force. “Torture of Fire” feels shivery and woozy at first, with echoey beats shooting out and striking the walls. The vocals take a different approach and have a new personality than elsewhere on the record, and Beaulieu sounds pretty dangerous. The 16:17-long closing title cut introduces itself by ringing out sharply and drone lowering itself to the ground for a final push. First, the vocals slip behind the noise, which sounds like a million insects buzzing, but then Beaulieu breaks through and takes control. The melodies—both from the music and the vocals—are swirling and trance-inducing, and maybe this is just something I’m pulling out the song, but there’s a sense of sorrow that embraces you like an old lost friend. The emotion conveyed is unmistakable and real. Organs pile on again, the tempo picks up and begins to vibrate with light, and the final sounds create one last cutting swoop before turning into vapor and disappearing before our eyes.

Menace Ruine can be a breath of fresh air for listeners who are too bogged down in violence and negativity. Beauty and light are elements we need to grasp, and even when there are darker moments on “Venus Armata,” I can’t help but feel uplifted when the whole thing’s over. It’s a work of poetry as much as it is a collection of songs, and never have I enjoyed a Menace Ruine record this much. And I love their back catalog. This is worth every ounce of your energy investment in these seven songs, and they will reward you a million fold for your effort.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/menaceruine

To buy the album, go here: https://www.profoundlorerecords.com/products-page/

To buy the album on vinyl, go here: http://sige.bigcartel.com/artist/sige-records

For more on the label go here: http://www.profoundlorerecords.com/

And here: http://sigerecords.blogspot.com/

September 26, 2014 by Brian Krasman - 0 comments

PICK OF THE WEEK: As current era closes, Witch Mountain deliver soul-toppling ‘Mobile of Angels’

To use an oft-spouted cliché, all good things must come to an end. That’s a profoundly sad statement if you take time to really analyze what it means. Your relationships, families, circle of friends, and life all will vanish one day. Most likely, it will happen due to something bad happening. Everyone smiling now?

But not all ends are because of catastrophe, though they can be just as upsetting. Uta Plotkin, who has fronted the great doom metal band Witch Mountain for their last three releases, announced she is exiting the group following a brief touring cycle for their fourth record “Mobile of Angels.” Wow, how do I say this without devaluing the contributions of the rest of the band? Well, that’s not my intent, but I don’t see how they carry on now. Plotkin was a vital organ in the band’s creative body. She was that missing piece Witch Mountain lacked on their 2001 debut “Come the Mountain,” and she powered this band forward with her unmistakable voice and gut-wrenching delivery. The rest of the band is comprised of fine, accomplished players in their own right, and I’m sure the next incarnation of Witch Mountain still will be worth our attention. But wow, this is a major loss. This hurts. And the fact that “Mobile” is hands down their best record, one that could have been a major groundbreaker for the band, is even more gutting.

But here it is, this five-track, nearly 39-minute document that will be remembered as one of 2014’s finest records by a number of outlets. Rest assured. Plotkin and her bandmates, guitarist Rob Wrong, bassist Charles Thomas, and drummer Nathan Carson, reach something magical on this collection. I’ve been a little up and down on the band’s albums (loved “South of Salem” immediately; “Cauldron of the Wild” still is taking time to grow on me), but “Mobile” is a holy-shit-they-arrived document. It is must-hear, lifetime-achievement worthy, and I can’t help but again say what a shame it is that it marks the end of the road for this version of the band. They deserve to play huge rooms with this release, with Plotkin’s world-swelling voice filling every crevice. Too bad that won’t be so.

The opener “Psycho Animundi” is one of the dirtiest, most aggravated songs on the band’s entire catalog, with Plotkin going darker and grittier with her vocals, practically spitting out her words most of the way. The music, especially Wrong’s guitar work, is particularly bluesy, and there is a menace hiding in plain sight on this one. The song keeps charging, with Plotkin practically shouting, “All I want is to get out, to transport, to transcend,” which seem like very telling words, before the song goes clean and calm. Everything gets heavy again before the track bleeds to a sorrowful finish. “Can’t Settle” starts with sludgy riffs, the band heading again into blues territory, and Plotkin calling, “It’s growing like a cancer, it’s growing like Rosemary’s baby.” From there, her voice soars high, and the band backs her with atmospheric passages that head right into pure doom. Growls are unfurled, the only point on the record where that happens, and as the torment and dark clouds accumulate, Plotkin vows, “I’m getting the hell out of here,” with fiery soloing taking the song to its gripping conclusion.

“Your Corrupt Ways” is the 10:27 centerpiece, and it’s one of their most impressive songs ever. This is where all the forces comprising this record are at their highest, every instrument and every player. It’s an unreal track, with Plotkin opening, “I don’t think you’re aware of how falsely you appear,” with the band swelling behind her and offering a tidal wave of their own emotions. The track is like an extended relationship epitaph, and while it may have nothing to do with Plotkin’s eventual decision to move on, the way she delivers lines like, “I’m afraid our differences we can’t reconcile,” it sounds like she’s wrestling with dark shadows and decisions that have overcome her. The last few minutes of the song let everyone get out their energy, and it’s a massive caterwaul of expression. The title track follows and lets you blood come back to normal, with eerie soundscapes, keys swimming and creating a medicine head-like effect, and Plotkin wondering, “What will he see at the end of the world?” Closer “The Shape Truth Takes” is an incredible finish, the perfect way to drop the curtain on this record. The track is sorrowful and slower, as the band walks their final steps together. There are great, quivering guitars along the way, Plotkin’s vocals hit a higher register as she has her say, and the band builds to a crescendo that’s like a dam breaking and unloading billions of gallons of water all over. Wrong’s soloing is exploratory and enthralling, and the four members of Witch Mountain bring the record to a stunning finish that suits their power as a unit and should have your heart surging.

I hate making this review sound like a eulogy, and let me reiterate that every part of this band is vital and powerful. But you can’t help but mourn that that voice no longer will be a part of this band. That’s a tough thing to accept, especially considering how great “Mobile of Angels” truly is. At best, this band is going out on a major high note before they write their next chapter, whatever that may be. As for Plotkin, we can only hope we hear more from her in the future, be that on her own or with one of her other bands. She’s too vital, too good to lose. Hopefully both sides go on to new, great heights, with the majesty of this record powering their respective journeys.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/witchmountain

To buy the album, go here: https://www.profoundlorerecords.com/products-page/

For more on the label, go here: http://www.profoundlorerecords.com/