Record reviews
“Having recently relocated from South Carolina (a.k.a. The Land of Eternal Swampass), the name Marsh Dweller immediately piqued my interest when I saw it on our promo list. I always seem to find myself applying band and album names in stupidly personal ways, and a moniker like that reminded me of the long nighttime walks I used to take through a nearby salt marsh while listening to Baroness and picking my underwear out of my asscrack.” This too, shall ass.
“Everyone and their second cousin (twice removed) knows by now that there’s a glut of one-man black metal bands. You have a guitar, a barely functional computer, a mic, and some time to kill? That’s a perfect recipe to stave off boredom for at least a few months (or days, if you’re Vardan). One-man doom metal, though? That requires some serious time, dedication, and at least a decent knowledge of every instrument possible.” Bring forth the sad loner!
“The always well-attended Summer Slaughter tour came to Chicago one cloudy Wednesday night, with a packed lineup of death metal giants. Nile, Suffocation, Revocation, and headliners Cannibal Corpse played to a packed and pickled pit until the wee hours of the morning, and few prevailed without injury. Truly, it was a night to be remembered. At least, I assume that happened. I elected to skip the megatour (and probably the best pit Chicago will see all year) and head just a few miles further up Milwaukee avenue to see the most Kronos-approved bill that will ever come to be; the tour to end all tours. Plebeain Grandstand. Pyrrhon. The trvest of the trve had gathered.” The night Chicago was trve.
“I’m a rare steak man. It doesn’t have to bleed to be palatable, but it probably wouldn’t hurt. After tossing a couple sirloins on the grill for dinner, my fiancée asked how I was liking X-Method. A blood-tinged fugue immediately compelled me to follow her back into the house so that someone, anyone, would listen to the ensuing oral diarrhea. Fifteen minutes later, my untended steaks were completely overcooked. X-Method ruined my dinner and my stomach demands recompense.” That steak is now like Thor’s hammer – runed!
“Believe it or not the life of a music reviewer is not as glamorous as one would think. Yes, from time to time you’re invited to the likes of Thor’s Rock Opera in some trendy part of New York City, you’re jet-setting off to Chicago with tickets to Alehorn of Power IX, or you’re the first to get your grubby mitts on Swallow the Sun’s new triple album. Outside of those jaw-dropping moments though, reviewing consists of picking some unknown band/album off the promo sheet with your fingers tightly crossed hoping that what’s going to burst out of your monitors isn’t going to suck monkey balls. Aussie ambient/black metallers, Spire, was one of those random, finger-crossing, hope-for-the-best-expect-the-worst moments.” Sometimes you win and sometimes….
“I’m not a fan of gimmick band names. I’m also not a fan of gimmick album names, or gimmick song titles, or gimmick bands in general. It’s just all too gimmicky. Maybe I’m just a cranky old fella (Angry Olde Guy?), but if I want comedy in an album I’ll throw on my old Howie Mandel cassette. So when I see an album called Jewel of the Vile, by a band called Necromancing the Stone, complete with saucy cover art, I groan.” Romancing the groan?
“There once was a time when the little known Bloody Hammers were making like the even lesser known Vardan by releasing new albums with shocking rapidity. Perhaps this was their way of getting their name out there and keeping whatever low-level momentum they garnered moving in the right direction. Unfortunately despite some good ideas, the music often felt slapped together and rushed with inconsistent results. The talent and potential were definitely there, but the results weren’t quite up to snuff. In my review of their 2014 opus Under Satan’s Sun I prescribed a longer time between releases to allow their ideas to germinate, marinate and ruminate, and perhaps they took the advice to heart.” Free advice is worth exactly what it costs.
“We all have our dirty metal secrets that we selfishly keep to ourselves, only sharing with a select few close to us. Or alternatively, we incessantly talk up underground gems and spread the gospel to anyone that will listen, as we cherish our slice of underground cred. Into the Obscure aims to right the wrongs and unearth the artists/albums that for whatever unjust reason didn’t get the exposure or credit they sorely deserved the first time round.” Here be the hidden gems!
“By now, the more astute of you are aware of my promo selection process. If you’re just tuning in, I select bands based on the following criteria: my own listening history of the band (naturally), the band’s back story, and their naming conventions. That last one has unearthed some amazing gems. Other times, it bit me in the ass hard. Italy’s Svlfvr (pronounced “Sulfur” and not “SVILFIVOR,” sadly) caught me with not only their name, but also their beautiful purple-and-green album cover for their debut full-length.” Color my wvrld.
“Readers au fait with the -core end of the extreme music spectrum will likely be familiar with Spazz and Black Army Jacket, the members of whom would go on to form our current review subjects. But for those of you that prefer Iced Earth to Infest, these names probably don’t mean much. While grindcore was close enough to metal to appeal to both the short and the long-haired, its musical cousin powerviolence remained firmly within the hardcore punk tradition. I owe Deny the Cross thanks for forcing me to expand my musical horizons further punkwards so that I can actually review them within some sort of meaningful context.” Feel the power (and the violence).
