“1990’s alt-rockers Failure tend to rank high on headbangers’ lists of non-metal pleasures, due in no small part to dark, dissonant songwriting and sonic girth that could rival any doom band. Those qualities produced two excellent records, Magnified (1994) and Fantastic Planet (1996), followed by an opiate-fueled breakup in ’97.” And now we get their hopefully opiate-free return!
“Soen’s Cognitive, which was released in 2012, was the band’s debut and it bore a striking resemblance to the work of Tool and, to be fair, A Perfect Circle. Despite this undeniable likeness, the record was chock full of fat grooves, great writing, beautiful vocal performances from vocalist Eklöf and amazing performances from all the musicians—but especially metal’s best bassist (Steve Digiorgio if there’s any doubt) and one of metal’s best drummers (Martin Lopez). I’ve often felt a bit guilty for labeling Cognitive as too derivative, because despite the sound it has been a regular on my playlist since then—and I would hate to be responsible for pigeonholing a band before they had time to develop; great debuts are few and far between.” But the operative question is: can Soen step through Tool’s shadow and come out the other side?
Of all Mike Patton’s project, Tomahawk is the one I appreciate the least. Let’s be unprofessionally honest from the start: I can’t be impartial when it comes to judging the work of the genius from Eureka, CA because, yes, I am one of those pedantic nerds who can talk about him for hours at bus stops and grocery stores. Pranzo Oltranzista is in my opinion: “a postmodern monument to deconstructivism and a wordless essay on the very meaning of semiotics from a non-Kojevian perspective”. Or “it fucking rules”: you decide. And don’t get me started on the tragedy behind Fantomas or Mr Bungle’s sardonic stance on the morals of our times because I may end up comparing Patton’s vocal chromaticism to the continuous dichotomy between techne and episteme. Or “both bands fucking rule”: you’re an agent with free will, so you can decide for yourself.
As I write this, it’s 15 degrees Celsius outside. The sun rises, but does not provide any warmth. Everything in my world is covered in a thin layer of ice, and things seem to be moving very slowly. In other words: it’s cold as shit out here. This is the perfect weather for some gloomy, atmospheric, slow-ass metal. And it just so happens that I have At Every Door, the new album by Finnish sextet Hanging Garden.
