“Do you like post-metal? Do you like sludge? What about Rosetta? Soundclips of men with Scottish accents? Finally, do you have 72 minutes to kill? If, dear reader, you answered yes to three out of those five questions, then you would be obliged to take my hand as I journey through Izah’s gargantuan debut Sistere.” Ach, it’s like Scotchtoberfest around hea!
“Genre labels are such a double-edged sword, aren’t they? You mention nu-metal or metalcore around here, and there’s a good chance that the band you are describing will become anchored before they are allowed to soar.” Genre labels proved a hot topic not too long ago here on AMG. Will Taken By The Sun further fan the flames?
“Loud, heavy, dense, raging, lacking any sort of subtlety or nuance – rarely has a band been so aptly named as Primitive Man. Self-releasing their debut to critical acclaim both here and across the metalogosphere, they followed it up with a series of splits before being snapped up by Relapse for their latest outburst of hatred. Their approach has remained pretty consistent across these releases: crank everything up until it feeds back, then hammer out the most repulsive blackened sludge they can conjure.” Better call your local Department of Sludge Control.
“I admire bands with the guts to take creative risks and incorporate different styles and influences into their sound. However, meshing different genres is often fraught with danger. Bold experimentation and genre splicing often results in bands going off the deep end, with the finished output dissolving into a stewy mess of incoherence and forced songwriting.” Ready for some slug themed extremity? Look at that escargot!
“The very idea of being a musical conduit is intriguing. A lot can be said about people who, instead of hopping on fading bandwagons or changing themselves to create some kind of spark that may or may not keep them relevant, decide to follow their dormant spirits and let them guide their fingers, feet, and voices to craft something that is truly their own. Forget about trends, man; it’s about the feeling of those spirits. That feeling is fucking celestial.” People who deny the existence of spirits may be spirits themselves.
“Eugene, Oregon’s YOB have come a long way since their beginnings way back into the nineties. They started their career on a high note by churning out a pretty unique beast of an album, Elaborations of Carbon, whose mad, gigantic sound would become the band’s trademark. By 2005, albums like The Unreal Never Lived ensured them the status of one of the frontrunners of the sludge/doom scene and following that record, the band went on a two-year hiatus which looked like a permanent disbandment at the time. When they came back from the dead, fuelled by the perseverance of mastermind Mike Scheidt, it was clear that YOB underwent some kind of transformation, which was reflected on the following two albums. Taking that into account, the expectations and fears for their first new material in three years were running high through a mist of uncertainties and worries about the direction the band would take.” YOB is love, but is YOB still YOB? YOB!
“Mastodon’s 2011 record The Hunter represented a significant, if predictable, turning point in their career. Having earned a respectable degree of mainstream popularity and critical acclaim through heady, yet accessible psychedelic sludge records, Mastodon very deliberately decided to meet their peaking success by transforming into essentially a heavy rock band. The prog had reached critical mass, but Mastodon clearly had one thing left to prove in their ever-shifting sonic palate, and that is their capacity for radio-rock stardom.” So… are they rock stars now? Bigger than GaGa?
“Super-groups are an odd breed of duck. They either end up a bunch of egos, ball-busting for attention (a fight nobody wins) or they end up something along the lines of Down’s NOLA – chilled out, soaked in beer, raw and dirty and probably totally fucking stoned. This little collective I happened upon most recently via Rock n Growl Promotion, hail from a range of countries including, unsurprisingly, the USA and more surprisingly Spain, Italy and France.” An international doom rock supergroup starring the likes of Joe Stump? Intriguing!
“Nobody understands The Body. Not even The Body understand The Body. It is a musical gesture pure and simple, with no need to be described and no reason to be judged. It is there and then, with no epistemological meaning whatsoever; it is an artistic expression lying on an imaginary floor deprived of attributes. Or full of attributes, which is the same thing. This duo of pain inflictors from Portland, Oregon, knows how to fiddle with cacophony while, at the same time, titillating your senses with moments of supreme beauty. Not happy with the description?” When Alex gets in a groove, he doesn’t care if you like his descriptions or not. That won’t stop him for waxing poetic all about these sludgesters.
“In an age where gimmicks run rampant, from Black Veil Brides to Shitfucker (two bands, if you think about it, that are basically brothers from different mothers), it’s refreshing to see a band get noticed merely on the basis of craftsmanship. Shakhtyor are so no-frills it hurts. They’re painfully unmarketable: three German dudes that look like, well, dudes, with an unpronounceable-to-most Russian moniker and a blatant disregard for the value of vocals.” Jordan Campbell weighs in with his first review for Angry Metal Guy — the obscure German sludge act Shakhtyor out in a few days from Metal Blade Records in the US.
