Monday, March 17, 2014

Year in Review - the Releases of November & December 2013

 Well folks, it's been a long, arduous ride from start to finish, but we are at the end of this retrospective! I hope this has been an informative, semi-comprehensive look back on what had been a truly rich and enjoyable year for music. Now, I have to get caught up on what 2014 has to offer...

Cult of Fire – Ascetic Meditation of Death
Genre: Black Metal

        It's always nice when a fairly uninteresting band really gets their bearings together for their sophomore release – My Bloody Valentine, with their boring debut Isn't Anything and stunning followup Loveless spring to mind as the most striking example – and usually exists in diametric opposition to the so-called 'sophomore slump' which is a definite threat to artists who encounter any modicum of success at the start. One of the best cases for the 'sophomore spike' last year was Cult of Fire, a Czech black metal act with only another album to their name – 2012's Triumvirát. The record suffered from uninteresting ideas, overdone riffs, and an overall lack of memorability. Luckily, 2013 saw Ascetic Meditation of Death (stylized in Tibetan, which I can't type in because my word processor doesn't support) – which took most of black metal's tropes and stood them totally on their head by interjecting Eastern influences.
        Opening track 'Samhara Rakhta Kali', with its mystical sitar-and-throat-warbling-studded intro culminating with the crash of a gong, is a pretty fair indication of what Cult of Fire have in store for you on this record – it's undeniably black metal, but the persistent Eastern instruments give the music a far more unique and unprecedented sense of atmosphere, which, after the unbridled ugliness of Triumvirát, is both unexpected and welcome. Meanwhile, following track 'On the Funeral Pyre of Existence' begins abruptly with a dizzying keyboard zap that erupts into an almost progressive-like blast. Off-kilter melodies careen about in the violent haze, at once out of place but nevertheless fitting.
         With Ascetic Meditation of Death, Cult of Fire both expand their own horizons, as well as pave new ground in a genre many consider done to death. The aforementioned 'On the Funeral Pyre of Existence' features a brief, but nevertheless haunting break which features a solemn melody as flames crackle. The record flows very easily between triumphant marches and Eastern chaos – with the production just murky enough for the sound to drag you into din of battle, but still allows for the commendable percussion of Tom Coroner to shine. For all of their adherence to the doctrine of black metal, Cult of Fire nevertheless manage to squeeze in a bit of cheese to what many would consider quite a novel and artistically meritorious album. Power-metal like synth passages abound – with 'Shava Sadhana' (track 3), 'Kali Ma' (track 4) and 'Khanda Manda Yoga' (track 7) having the most striking examples.
        This is a record that could teach Utah cheese-purveyors Caladan Brood a thing or two about mixing epic and black metal. In many ways Caladan's debut Echoes of Battle echoes (no pun intended) some of the more in-your-face dungeon synth elements of Ascetic Meditation of Death, but while the Americans opted for a more Summoning-centric approach, Cult of Fire brought more 1349 and Dark Funeral to the forefront – the album is a dedication to the Hindu god of death, anyway.
      I could write for hours about how unique, refreshing, and almost fun this album is, but I'll let this brief writeup speak for itself. Rest assured, for fans of black metal, this is not a record to be missed!
Notable Tracks: 'Samhara Rakhta Kali' (track 1), 'Kali Ma' (track 4), 'Gruesome Dance of Death' (track 6).


Whores – Clean
Genre: Noise Rock
        Whores' equally in-your-face band name and bright pink bandcamp page are about as subtle as the music these Atlantans crank out at a breakneck pace on their newest album Clean. With a monstrous, lumbering bass attack combined thick-n-juicy guitar riffs and get-drunk-and-sing-along vocal hooks, Clean has all the features of what seems to be yet another Californian sun-kissed stoner rock album. But while their devil-may-care yelling and disregard for your feelings might scream Fu Manchu, near the end of opener 'Baby Bird', the instruments fall away from vocalist Christian Lembach who fills the empty space with his absolutely furious yell.

        Indeed, the band roughly humps the line between angry stoner rock and a more vicious, almost crust-punk like edge that shows up where you'd least expect – no, not in the bouncy introduction to 'I Am Not a Goal Oriented Person', but later on in the song where things ramp up in sleazy noise and feedback begins to wail.
         There's something raw, primal, and not very pleased that Whores bring to the table with Clean. As Lembach intones “I've had enough” in 'Cougars, not Kittens' before lasping into some more contrite heaviness. 'Cougars' in particular plays with a light/heavy dynamic that makes every punishing punch the band throw that much more emphatic.
        If bands like Every Time I Die and Teethmarks make you happy, give this record a spin. Definitely a fun time, and at not even 40 minutes it's over all too soon.
Notable Tracks: 'I Am Not a Goal Oriented Person”, 'Blue Blood', 'Baby Bird'.

Weekend Nachos – Still
Genre: Powerviolence

        Along with Nails, hilariously-named Chicago powerviolence collective Weekend Nachos put out one of the must talked-about and eagerly-anticipated powerviolence outings of the year. But while Nails' brutal, uncompromising Abandon All Life rushed through its 17 minutes of pure aural annihilation, Weekend Nachos' Still adds an element of spasticity to its approach that lets it pull ahead of the pack. Despite barely cracking the 20 minute mark, the method to Still's madness is to pack in as much brutality and ugliness as possible, with the band moving effortlessly between more traditional hardcore riffs and hazy, almost sludgey passages. Amazingly, there are some spare seconds that the band fills with a sinister build up before erupting into everyone's favorite blend of rapid, chunky hardcore – 'Satan Sucker', despite being barely two minutes long, manages to cram in a definitive beginning, middle, and end, with easy distinction marking the difference.
          What sets Still apart from previous Nachos outings is, foremostly, that the grindcore element of their more guttural and wretched records like Worthless and Torture is toned down in lieu of sweltering crust that would make Amebix and Rorschach proud. 'Watch You Suffer''s devilish crust riffing that explodes into a protracted, howling break is Still's prime example, and at 3 minutes 25 seconds, it's among the record's longer pieces, and features Weekend Nachos doing the unthinkable – slowing down for a devastatingly heavy hardcore pummeling as feedback warbles heighten the intensity before the storm comes crashing down again with 'Wolves'.
         This gives Still both a unique flavor among Weekend Nachos' discography, and allows for some definitive 'fuck yeah' moments now that the band's vocals are actually comprehensible – they even threw in a song called 'You're Not Punk' to definitively stick it to the posers. There isn't a single track on Still that feels out of place, and for powerviolence fans it's definitely not a record to miss.
        Notable Tracks: 'Satan Sucker', 'Yes Way', 'Broken Mirror'.

Year of No Light – Tocsin
Genre: Post-Metal

          Year of No Light have, by themselves, one of the most unique track records of any post-metal acts on the market. Their discography, as of writing, is comprised of 2008's lengthy Nord, the effervescently crushing Ausserwelt, and, unexpectedly enough, a score for the classic horror movie Nosferatu the band wrote in 2012 (Vampyr). In any case, the band is known for their bleak, frigid, and massive soundscapes that seem to grow even larger with every release. Their newest effort, Tocsin, is no different, and as it moves between somber clean and torturous distorted guitar on the opening title track, it's readily apparent that Year of No Light have been methodically moving towards a droning, almost funeral doom-like approach to their music. This is a switch characterized by the abandonment of post-metal's more ethereal, hazy instrumentation, and instead, layering emotionally destructive patterns atop one another to create a dark, raw epic.
        As with the Body's Christs, Redeemers, Tocsin further highlights post-metal's sludge roots, plowing resolutely through some punishingly heavy bass mires as multiple guitars swirl about impossibly above. As 'Tocsin' moves into 'Géhenna', the mire contracts, exploding into a blinding, piercing net of light that seems to move everywhere at once.
         The vivid imagery I'm painting with the music isn't flighty chance – Tocsin is an incredibly evocative record that never quite lets up the intensity, even in its more airy moments. For as serene as most of the instrumentals are on the record, the pervasive sense of desolation paints everything with a shade of grey, and the heaviness of bassist Johan Sébenne anchors most of the album in emotional negativity. Also to the band's credit, Tocsin is a fully instrumental album – which cuts out the potential flop of the band's vocals, thereby allowing the music to flow out in its entirety and strangle you without being jolted back to the reality.
Tocsin feels very much like the soundtrack to the end of the world – whole sagas start and end in each massive song, and when the record is played in its entirety it's absolutely wonderful to behold. Electronic elements, as in Altar of Plagues' Teethed Glory & Injury, are used sparingly, and only when necessary to heighten the bleakness Year of No Light are purveying. When listening to Tocsin, it feels as though everything has its own place – every song stands on its own, even as most top ten minutes and scrape fifteen – and each is a finely orchestrated, searing narrative of the apocalypse.
        To conclude, this is not an album you want to miss out on. Here's to hoping we don't have to wait another four years for a new Year of No Light record.

Celeste – Animale(s)
Genre: Black Metal/Post-Hardcore

       Celeste as a band have faced a number of struggles over the years – the French act have three previous albums to their name, each more monstrous and hulking than the next, but anyone who has listened to Celeste's material can tell you one thing – the band's records tend to blur together, with very little to tell them apart. Though this problem was slightly remedied on 2010's Morte(s) Nee(s), Celeste still had quite a ways to go before sitting through an album of theirs was refreshing rather than redundant.
        Thus, it came as a bit of surprise when the band announced last year that their upcoming effort Animale(s) would be a two-disc feature clocking in at over an hour and a half. Animale(s) is a concept album about two youngsters falling out of love very quickly – not new ground by any means, but the band's excellent, genre-bending songwriting works wonders for getting around what's by now a fairly hackneyed narrative. Unfortunately, though, there is a limit to how much the band pushes the envelope. In a lot of ways, Animale(s) stumbles on the same grounds previous Celeste outings did – it's not a very interesting album at all. When contrasted with Year of No Light's tasteful, varied songwriting, Celeste simply don't hold up. Musically, however, their nationality, however, is the last thing Celeste and YONL have in common – Animale(s) is a malevolent, rage-ridden mess that, past its forlorn, echoing introduction, is totally unafraid to demolish everything in its way.

        Celeste draw influence primarily from the darkness of black metal and emotional wretchedness of post-hardcore, putting both together in ways you wouldn't expect – ever heard black metal with semi-hardcore vocals? Look no further than the record's first minutes. Ever wonder what would happen if Converge listened to less Black Flag and more Celtic Frost? Celeste indulge that thought experiment. The intensity the band are now known for is back full-force in Animale(s), and even though it's wholly punishing and overwhelmingly brutal, it really is the band's only trick up their sleeve, and for the entire 90 minutes it's played out ad nauseum.
        Trying to make it through Animale(s) is difficult. Extremely so. After about ten minutes and your anger is purged, the band's lack of variety becomes one of its most defining characteristics and everything falls apart for them. It's wholly unfortunate, because if Celeste had a few more ideas they'd be writing some truly fascinating music, but instead their newest record sounds undeniably like their other three.




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