Absence of peace does not mean war

My Memorial Day blog plans went awry. I was gonna be all "blame America first" and post one of those Iraq war casualty counters, but I discovered too late that I can't post anything with JavaScript code on this site. Ran out of time. Nonetheless, it's worth acknowledging that we're still going strong.

Instead, some lyrics for memorializing:

-"Masters of War" by Bob Dylan
-"Mandatory Suicide" by Slayer
-"Kinky Sex Makes the World Go 'Round" by Dead Kennedys
-"Remember the Fallen" by Sodom
-"No Man's Land (The Green Fields of France)" by Eric Bogle
-"Disposable Heroes" by Metallica
-"War Crimes" by D.R.I.
-"Now You've Got Something To Die For" by Lamb of God
-"...For Victory" by Bolt Thrower

Hope y'all had a good one. More content soon.

Paging Dr. Svetlana

OK. I know you don't want me to talk about metal again. So, at the risk of turning this blog into a full-blown psycho relationship column, I will turn my jaundiced eye (really, it's as yellow as Kenny Rogers' piss) to the subject of hitchin'. Nuptuals. (gulp) Marriage.

Put your monocle back in. I am not in any danger of losing my bachelor status at the moment. Full-blown, bare-knuckled freedom, that's tha life 4 me, brotha. Woo-oo, yeah buddy. But that doesn't mean I never think about marriage. I don't do it in a practical context, or all "I need to have a team of purple stallions and 22,705 Siberian irises and Eikenskaden playing on an ice barge at the reception." More like, "If I ever got married, how could I fit another person's shit in here?" or "If I had a wife, would she make me go to the doctor more often?" That sort of thing. It's natural for my age, I guess. At this point, a fair number of my friends are married, getting married or at least settled in with mates. However, if I were to seriously entertain the idea myself at the moment, I would literally have to go the mail-order route. I ain't bitter. I'm just saying.

This stupid post was actually inspired by a MySpace message I received a little while ago. It was spam, its subject line reading "Good afternoon." The charming body, without edits, for your amusement:

Hello,
Me name is Svetlana.
I has decided, I need friend with whom I might connect all further life too is necessary for me, but such person with whom
I would not be happy is not necessary for me and the girlfriend has advised me to look same people as well as I in the Internet,
I and have made I have gone to the Internet of cafe and have found a site which to me the girlfriend has advised, at her mum as has got acquainted with the person from Germany. After short viewing structures I have seen yours which most approaches me, and have decided to write to you
in hope that I shall receive from you the answer. Excuse I has distracted from the story about itself slightly. As I to you already spoke me 29 years
I live in Russia, city of Orsk, my weight makes 64 kgs at growth of 170 centimeter. At me higher education on a speciality the ecologist, but on the trade I do not work, as on it it is very difficult to find work. I work to help the bookkeeper in the company which is engaged in sale of home
appliances. I live one without parents, my parents were lost at a fire of 6 years back. I live together with mine cat Murka, she my best friend!
Unfortunately
I badly know the English language so I the first time shall be to use the translator, but I go on rates, on studying language. With impatience I wait from you for the answer.
Your new friend Svetlana.
Please write me on my personal e-mail: svetlanochka-sveta@yandex.ru So it will be more convenient to me to write to you and I can send you the photos!

Now, some years ago, a catalog of mail-order brides came into my possession. Who it came from, I honestly don't remember - I believe someone I used to hang out with got it from somewhere for its kitsch value and handed it off. I also don't remember what happened to it, but I remember looking through it. It was mostly what you think: pictures of pretty Eastern European women dressed like it's the late '80s (frizzy blonde mops, mongo huge earrings, oversized sweaters, unnecessary belts, acid-washed denim skirts, etc.). Each had an accompanying block of "introduction" text, and these seemed real enough because they all seemed to be written by different people with varying English proficiency. The one that stood out to me was named Svetlana.

Svetlana was a good-looking Russian lady: tall, brunette, seemingly with all of her teeth and digits intact. What got me was that in her description - written in perfect English - she mentioned that she was a doctor. I got very depressed thinking about that. Why would a doctor with flawless English skills need to put herself on the block to marry some stranger from America? It couldn't have been for want of honest love or even the rush of romance, since she couldn't possibly expect to find such things through a "marriage referral service." Is life in the former Soviet Union so fucking terrible that a thoroughly trained medical professional cannot make a rewarding living? I felt very bad for Dr. Svetlana, and if she is actually a real person I hope her situation improved since that catalog was printed. Likewise, if I ever decide to pay for an international sugar mama, I know there are doctors out there.

Since the other Svetlana got me thinking about the Doc, I decided to investigate what sorts of mail-order bride options the web offers. Here are some of my favorites.

Dyne: Her English isn't perfect, but somehow this Moscow miss conveys a vision of an ideal relationship that aligns with with mine. I would probably go broke jetting her around, though. And why does she switch to "he/she" when referring to a hypothetical potential mate?

Hetty: This cute lil' Hong Kong native is my age, and doesn't make a big deal out of religion, which is rare among potential Asian brides on offer.

Alina: I like this Russian living in Austria because her haircut is wicked and because of her sweet assertion that "when two people like each other they can forgive many things."

Zarina: It may just be her fabulous sweater-thingie, or the fact that this Kazakhstan gal claims to have black eyes, but she seems pretty fly.

Irina: Holy bananas, she is a fine lady. Doesn't seem the type to blow her s/o off, which has become a big plus for me these days. Think she wants kids, though.

Elvira: This Ukrainian nurse sounds pleasant and claims to be responsible. Likes "the plants," eh? Too bad she's a Libra.

Elena: Doesn't seem picky, which is good, and I am intrigued by her desire for a man with "loyalty to feminine weaknesses." Look at that marvelous forehead, it is quite aristocratic.

Anna: Y'all know I don't usually go in for the blondes, but this one's pretty saucy. I suppose I can appreciate the flowery romantic sentiment, too.

Yuliya: An 18 year-old Ukrainian philologist? I'd like to think I match her wants. Yeah, I know, way too young to work. Still, way hot.

Anastasia: Oh, damn. Just, damn. A practicing cardiologist with fluent English who doesn't seem to want children. That tears it. Dr. Anastasia is the new Dr. Svetlana, and her name is much classier to boot.

Fangface follies

Last weekend's Minnesota jaunt was pleasant. It took seven hours to drive up, six back, and I stayed there a total of thirteen hours. So the travel time equaled the time I spent at the destination. And despite another instance of a hard-to-find Minnesota hotel with a fucked up room heater, it was completely worth the effort.

As a proud Helloween fan since the age of 12, I have loved, loved, LOVED Kai Hansen's splinter group Gamma Ray since I found their debut in late 1990. It was the day I bought my first CD player, when I got five albums to go in each of the player's slots: Iron Maiden's No Prayer for the Dying, S.O.D.'s Speak English or Die, Testament's Practice What You Preach, AC/DC's The Razors Edge (since sold) and Gamma Ray's Heading for Tomorrow. All three Gamma Ray albums with Ralf Scheepers on vocals were a major part of my high school and college years, all the more special because the band was so obscure in America. They were like a secret, the sort of thing you play for people who don't follow heavy metal and they can't believe it exists. After sixteen years as a recording and touring entity, they're still pretty unknown over here. This Minnesota show was the end of their very first North American tour, added after the obnoxious Twin Cities raconteur known as The SwordLord insisted on having a Midwest date added to their paltry schedule of six U.S. performances. Since I'd already traveled to Germany (Wacken 2000) and Georgia (ProgPower USA III) to see Gamma Ray, a seven hour drive to the east suburbs of St. Paul wasn't such a hassle. Some random memories:

-Driving up, I saw a crazy sign painted on a barn roof talking about some huge number of family farmland acres being "MUTILATED" by some local official or bill. I was going too fast to really read it, but it was certainly jarring. By the way, Wisconsin construction along I-90 and I-94 really blows.

-Since I couldn't find the damned Best Western (it was hidden behind a mall, the light on the sign was out and it was pouring rain), I stopped at the other nearby hotel to find out where I was supposed to go. The lobby was deserted except for one guest, who I quickly recognized under his baseball cap as Gamma Ray guitarist Henjo Richter. Of course I said hello, introduced myself, thanked him for coming, asked how the tour was going, etc. I told him this show was a big one for us fans in the middle of the States, and he said it was big for them, too. I'm sure he was just being nice, since they were playing at the smallest venue I've ever seen them in. Then the hotel guy told me how to get to the Best Western, and I said goodbye to Henjo, who was all like, "See you at the show!" Awesome. I hope I was friendly enough to negate his memory of the inebriated American I saw down in Hotlanta, telling a perplexed Mr. Richter how much he loved "Ramma Gay."

-I timed the arrival at the venue perfectly. The band immediately preceding Gamma Ray, Avian, were making their live debut. Their record has ex-Megadeth bassist Dave Ellefson on it, but he wasn't there; Avian's semi-celebrity draw was limited to singer Lance King, known to a few from bands like Balance of Power and Pyramaze. Avian was nothing special unless you like bland proggish metal, like a heavied up Fates Warning without many hooks. I spent most of that set guzzling beer and talking with Chris Lotesto from Ion Vein, who told me the next Chicago Powerfest might take an intriguing new direction. Then I ran into Chris Black of Dawnbringer/Pharaoh/Superchrist fame, and he delivered some curious info about the forthcoming album by his untouchable labelmates Hammers of Misfortune. I must commend his sweet Helloween "Pumpkins Fly Free" shirt. I can always go to metal shows alone and run into cool people I know, so maybe I should make like Whoopi and get back in the habit...

-Some gripes. I really didn't appreciate the medley approach Gamma Ray used for "Rebellion In Dreamland"/"Land of the Free" and the inevitable Helloween hit trio "Ride the Sky"/"Future World"/"I Want Out." They've done those before, but I would have preferred a couple of whole songs to a bunch of song parts. It's too Vegas. I also would have preferred something in place of the silly Manowar rip "Heavy Metal Universe," which they of course dragged out foreeeever with a bunch of call-and-response nonsense. I appreciate that the old "on the count of four, I need you to scream 'HEAVY METAL UNIVERSE!!!' at the top of your fucking lungs, OK?" is a staple of power metal concerts, but Gamma Ray really goes overboard with it. It's fine when a call-and-response is built into the song, like on "Blood Religion." But every time I've seen Gamma Ray, "Heavy Metal Universe" and "Somewhere Out In Space" always get dragged out for long enough that they could have gotten in a whole other song ("Man On A Mission"? "Heaven or Hell"?). I stopped yelling along with these after a while, because it only encourages them.

-On the plus side, Gamma Ray, as always, put on a loud and powerful set. They stayed mostly on the last four records, the ones by the current line-up, which made for a fine show regardless of its predictability. The bombastic Queen-worship ballad "The Silence" was a very nice surprise nod to the old records, however, and after that drive and four beers, I admit to getting a little misty in its stein-hoisting crescendos. The brand new ones totally destroyed; "Fight" is a melodic speed metal masterpiece, while "Blood Religion" was effectively pounding and, um, Majestic, despite its played-out vampire lyrics. Kai always reminds me of James Brown - they both appear to be having such a kick-ass time on stage, you can't be sure if it's for real, but it's certainly infectious. Dirk Schlächter has a great stone face for onstage mugging, and I came to the grudging realization during the show that Daniel Zimmermann is the best drummer Gamma Ray has ever employed. Too short a set with a bit too much filler, but I'll be damned if I would miss the chance to see them again. Thanks to many, many different factors, I have become a considerably jaded guy over the years. But I can always count on Kai Hansen.

More introverted, angry white guys

This should do it for the Eurogrimness right now. I'm off to see Gamma Ray, get smashed and deal with the SwordLord again. Who knows, maybe we'll end up as buddies when it's all over. Or maybe, one of us will be dead.

Isengard - Vinterskugge: Back when Nightfall Records was dealing death on Lawrence Avenue, I asked the proprietor to put on some Isengard, the Tolkien-loving solo project of Darkthrone's Fenriz. He warned me that it wasn't so good, but played some of the Høstmørke LP for me anyway. I should have taken his advice. I wasn't impressed with its wandering Wiking ways, and Fenriz's sub-Quorthon Norwegian warbling was a big turn-off. But now I'm old and my tastes are different, and Isengard does have an awesome logo, so I decided to give the demo collection Vinterskugge a whirl. It leads off with 1993's Vanderen demo, a real mixed bag. Sometimes you get the aforementioned Scandinavian saunter. At other points, it's Celtic Frost-inspired black metal like Darkthrone, and there's even some ambient keyboard doodling that's a tiny bit more eventful than Fenriz's other long-abandoned solo project, Neptune Towers. (If you're into spacy electro-drones in the manner of Tangerine Dream's glacial Zeit album, there are free .m4a downloads of both NT discs here and here.) The Viking stuff is what's unique to Isengard, and it's not really that great, but has its moments. The final track, "Naglfar," is pretty cool musically, with a dark seafaring riff and keyboard horns that are effective in their low-fi murkiness, but again Fenriz is displaying his horrid pseudo-pompous "epic" vocal style. He's certainly enthusiastic, but off key and amateur, and it's pretty embarassing for the most part. The earliest demo material, 1989's Spectres Over Gorgoroth, comes in the middle and to my ears is very similar to Darkthrone's Thulcandra demo from the same year, ugly and simplistic Frostish death metal. The final section, 1991's Horizons, is more varied like Vanderen, but not as "cultural." The disc's longest track, the bizarre "Storm of Evil," should be mentioned here. Over a midpaced bed of monotone rocking and keyboards that sound like synthetic bagpipes, Fen-Fen trots out some dramatic darkwave vocals in English, furrowed brow unable to mask the fact that he should stick to rasping. The disc is inconsistent, to say the least, but its generally unpleasant material might make it a handy tool for ending a disagreeable party. I already have enough records like that.
NEGATIVITY: -2.5 (aggravating, may trigger split personality disorder)

Himinbjorg - In the Raven's Shadow: French Viking metal? Oh, yeah, the Normans were descendants of the Vikings. Until this disc, I'd only heard later Himinbjorg, which is a lot like middle-period Enslaved in its confluence of artsy black metal and psychedelic textures. I believe 2003's Golden Age marked the point where the band decisively got back to more aggressive material, but Shadow is from the comparatively early days of 1999, when they were still pretty much a raw melodic black metal band with a lot of folkloric influence. The ominous keyboard/acoustic guitar intro track is three minutes long, actually feeling like a legitimate song rather than some space-filling nonsense. "Thiazi's Oyne" is the first of three songs nearing nine minutes, at first clipping along at an upbeat but not fast pace. The fuzzy black metal guitar is frequently concealed behind loud acoustic plucking (like Agalloch and early Ulver), both playing the same folk melody while well-placed keyboard horns announce the coming slaughter. The transition into normal black metal speed comes quite suddenly, shortly after Zahaah's vocals shift from his solemn clean Viking tone to blackened rasp. But when the band starts playing fast, he goes back to the clean style, and there's also this weird electronic sci-fi noise that happens about halfway through the song. This is a pretty good idea of what Himinbjorg is doing throughout the disc, creating contrasts between natural and synthetic sounds, moods and tempos. "In the Forest of the Demons from Within" is probably the most straightforward pagan black metal piece here - until it ends with cricket sounds. "Rising" follows a similar pattern immediately afterward, coming to its own fruition by transitioning into a pure folk song complete with chirping birds and a tranquil, wordless vocal refrain. And at thirteen minutes, "The Voice of Blood" has time for an extended section of gentle jamming and guitar soloing that sounds straight out of a classic rock tune. The best part is that it all flows surprisingly well for a young band - although they're no Bergtatt-era Ulver, they're admirably skilled at combining those parts into ever-evolving but coherent songs, and offer a more varied and engaging nature than other comparable acts such as Kampfar. Other than the harsher guitar tone and more charmingly naïve "underground metal" aesthetic of the thing, Shadow is not too far removed from the more recent Himinbjorg albums I've heard. This is my favorite of them, I think, as the entrancing folk melodies stand out strongest. Track number three, "The Inverted Dimension", is a compact version of Himinbjorg's style, so click that link and give it a listen (where it says "Himinbjorg MP3 Download") if the above description sounds interesting.
NEGATIVITY: -1.5 (kind of pleasant, actually)

Esoteric - Subconscious Dissolution Into the Continuum: Doom from the genre's source, Great Britain, is usually in the flowery Anathema/My Dying Bride vein, or at least the Sabbath/Cathedral bellbottoms-and-bongwater brand of bluesy brawn. While sometimes trippy in nature, long-ignored UK doom veterans Esoteric mostly traffic in the type of torturous dirge pioneered by countrymates Godflesh, minus the industrial sheen and armed with the lethal scrape of American sludge. This most recent album - my first contact with the veteran act - borders on "funeral doom" territory, the ultra-slow style perfected by Finns like Skepticism and Shape of Despair. I'll admit this is not my favorite type of doom, as it essentially favors feeling over listenable musical content, but Subconscious has a sense of motion to go with the emotion. Granted, not much happens in "Morphia," the fifteen-minute leadoff track, except an establishment of Esoteric's sound as less subtle than their name implies, but more nuanced than most American acts attempting to play this slowly and heavily. I wouldn't say it's crushingly heavy, as the hulking riffs are choppy and repetitive, the much-hyped atmosphere largely coming from effects rather than the actual music. Yet the tune is effective as doom goes, since you can't possibly be in a bubbly mood after hearing its anguished trudge. "Blood of the Eyes," with its mournful and melodic guitar lead in the Shape of Despair tradition, is where Subconscious first really grabs my attention. The last five of these twelve minutes are a return to Plod City like the first track, leading me to believe that Esoteric used to sound more like Disembowelment and are only just beginning to explore the expansive possibilities of their snail-paced laments. The lyrics for this one are gorgeous: "I have not seen myself for ages/This empty shell cares no longer for life/Slowly replacing the flesh with steel/So that I may carry on/Unfettered by this mortality." As if they were working up to it, the disc climaxes with seventeen minutes of "Grey Day," the third and final *real* track (the fourth is an atmospheric outro, clocking in at a Liliputian five minutes). "Grey Day" is where the nightmare all comes together: the spare and dismal melody, the squalling lysergic noises in the background, the filtered convergence of low growls and tortured screams, a convincingly downtrodden rhythm that makes you feel like the track is actually heading somewhere - but you won't be alive to see the destination. This truly is great doom, which can get inside your negative emotions like no other music I've ever heard, and really sounds best when you are feeling utterly miserable and hopeless... when the idea of a deep, dark, endless coma is seriously inviting.
NEGATIVITY: -4.5 (hide razors before listening)

Free Norse, no horse

I've been focusing on old stuff, but here's a look at some some brand new slabs of honky abrasion, all of which are available for free streaming in their entirety on mp3.com (click the link on each album name for the listening page). And here I thought that site had gone completely down the tubes! I cannot comment on the production too well with these because of the stream quality, but this review binge is an experiment. What the hey.

Ihsahn - The Adversary: Emperor were the Beatles of Norwegian black metal. Starting in their youth by emulating their favorite rockers, they expanded on that base and defined new boundaries for composition, arrangement, even fashion within their chosen style. With every album, they managed to create a new era, a new subgenre, a new legion of copycats. Of the core songwriters, Samoth was the John Lennon of the group - the rebellious, rowdy idealogue - while Ihsahn was the Paul McCartney - the conceptual, nerdy fop. This guy's my least favorite Beatle, but my favorite founding member of Emperor, so go figure. Anyway, now Ihsahn's forsaking bandmates and putting out an album on his own, right after Emperor started doing reunion shows and his family band Peccatum called it quits. I'm with the majority on this one: I fucking loved Emperor like nobody's business, from demos to break-up. Peccatum was often a bit of a horse pill, although I can understand Ihsahn's allegiance: Heidi S. Tveitan is a gorgeous Norsewoman, and I'd want to hang out with her all the time and take pretentious press photos if I was married to her, too. Yet while the loving couple's impressively decorated chamber metal project had its occasional highbrow charms, it frequently bogged down under the eclectic approach. Turns out The Adversary sounds exactly like I thought it would - like Prometheus: The Discipline of Fire and Demise mixed with a fair amount of Lost In Reverie, his last albums with his most long-term bands, the former of which might as well have been a solo joint with Samoth and Trym as session players. The only other guy playing on The Adversary is techmaster drummer Asgeir Mickelson (Borknagar/Spiral Architect/Lunaris/etc.), although "Homecoming" sounds like it's sung by Kristoffer G. Rygg, who of course is the fucking man and deserves his own solo album. It's mostly a fussy labyrinth of teched-out symphonic black/death/whatever metal, but it's prone to eerily romantic, avant-garde darkwave trances (not that either album didn't dip into the other's style on occasion). There's something slightly disappointing about predicting the likely move of a guy who I respect for his progression, although it doesn't make for a bad set of songs at all. In fact, it's just as emotional and intelligent as I would want, and synthesizes all a fan's favorite Ihsahn-isms while managing to branch out further into pure prog metal territory. Dropping sweeping orchestral moves in the dark of a lurching rhythm, opener "Invocation" is reminiscent of the way "Curse You All Men!" launches IX Equilibium straight into your goddamned face, but with a very pretty clean section in the middle, something like Opeth would do but with synth strings and Ihsahn multitracking his ever-sincere vocals. He experiments with choral vocals a lot on this disc, and it works as part of the man's repertoire of growl, croon and wail. "Called By the Fire" is very different - a very simple metal riffer at first, then it gets on with the dissonant trickiness, mostly staying at ballad speed and sporting a vaguely pop feature in a recurring chorus. It goes on among those moods, and the flow is much smoother than, for instance, the first two Peccatum albums. Since there's still too much to take in here even after a few listens, I'm stopping before this gets any longer. I can't wait to get the album, soak in the lyrics and quiver before the malevolent blast of "And He Shall Walk In Empty Places" with its proper sound quality. Candlelight Records' American arm made a cheesy TV commercial for this album, which also kindly reminded me to pick up the new Daylight Dies. Ihsahn is certainly not kvlt, but still emong the Elite.
NEGATIVITY: -2.5 (Ihsahn ain't as pissed as he used to be)

Ministry - Rio Grande Blood: Every time Ministry puts out a new album, there's all this hype about it being a "return" to the Psalm 69 days, and it's always just hype. See, I would prefer a return to the sound of The Mind Is A Terrible Thing to Taste, which pretty much changed my life at age 13, but I like the mecha-thrash assault of Psalm 69 a lot, too. Al Jourgensen has never put out a record that's totally unlistenable, but ever since the heroin-sludged Filth Pig, an undervalued, doomy wreck of a record, it hasn't been the same. But it's gradually gotten better over the last few albums, even after co-founding bassist Paul Barker finally threw in the towel before Houses of the Molé. The only problem has been that while Jourgensen jacked up the tempos and started bashing the Bushes again, it was more a return to type than a return to form. Even when they were hammering away in jackhammer fury, there was something cold and fakey about the last two Ministry discs, as if Al was trying too hard to go back to playing music he didn't really like anymore. My new mantra is, "I'm tired of being let down," so I didn't rush out for this (and I still haven't heard the new Revolting Cocks). But I'll be damned if that isn't one beaut of an album cover, and doubly so if this isn't the best Ministry release in fourteen years. Sure, that's what they all said after Animositisomina and Houses of the Molé. But I swear to you, this is not the haze of nostalgia filling in the gaps. It doesn't hurt that Jourgensen's cohorts on this include a pair of guys who did time in Prong, Tommy Victor (Danzig's current guitarist) and Paul Raven (of Killing Joke fame), who also know their way around effective industrial pummel. The title track and "Señor Peligro" simply rocket out of the gate with frenzied thrash riffs and cacophanous clanking, the former boasting samples of the Prez manipulated so he's saying things like "I have adopted sophisticated terrorist tactics" and "I am a weapon of mass destruction." Granted, these days people are criticizing Bush and Rumsfeld to their ugly faces on national television and it doesn't seem to make a difference. So, it can be argued that Ministry's actually making as much of a dent as a sonically safer act like Green Day or whoever the mainstream is hailing as some daring voice of dissent, especially considering Ministry's brand of protest rock has always been more about gallows-black sarcasm than philanthropic hand-wringing. Speaking of sarcasm, my man Jello Biafra, Jourgensen's Lard cohort, makes an appearance as a carnival barker on "Ass Clown," delivering zingers like "See the Department of Homeland Security perfecting new ways of drowning black people!" Other tracks like "Fear (Is Big Business)" and "The Great Satan" (beginning with a cute sample of my girl Condi) are the kind of vein-popping barnburners that would be highlights on any Ministry disc from the past decade, but here are just another part of the consistently aggressive fabric. Also worth mentioning is "Khyber Pass," a strong album-ending slow burn in the classic Ministry tradition with Middle Eastern vocals by trip-hop singer Liz Constantine. Rio Grande Blood is further proof that when Republicans become detrimental to American life, they're a boon to dissident American metal. Comeback of the year.
NEGATIVITY: -3.5 (still miss Hermes Pan, but glad Hypo Luxa quit horsing around)

Enslaved - Ruun: Released in the US of A on May 2, which means I have been fiending to buy this for over a week. I am so inert these days I can't even go buy the new album by one of my current major favorites. I will remedy that soon, since I have a lot of driving ahead of me this weekend. First off, that cover looks kind of, um... feminine? Perhaps it's just an armpit or something, but considering Ruun is probably the most accessible set of songs the Viking lords have done yet, I can see all the haters from the old school lining up to mock Grutle's and Ivar's masculinity. Well, fuck those greasy dweebs and their fearsome Grand Belial's Key 7" collections. Like their onetime split-mates Emperor, Enslaved has never made two identically-styled albums, preferring to do something different with the core sound of each successive set, giving each its own flavor and character. As with all the truly great metal bands today, they have channeled diverse influences - some necessarily outside of the "proper" metal realm - and honed their own understanding of music as a tool of expression, ultimately creating a unique and personal fusion of styles and moods. At one time long ago, I thought Amorphis would have made a really awesome move if they turned into the world's first prog/dark metal/jam band hybrid, but their instincts remained confined to brevity and choruses. Enslaved, on the other hand, could really just ride some of their riffs foreeeever, and it would sound absolutely bongtastic. Sadly, they haven't done a sixteen-minute song since 1997, and there's nothing over seven minutes here. Ruun sands off the rough edges from the barren alien soundscapes of 2004's Isa, even wading in on a wave of haunting mellotron like Isa's godly pedecessor Below the Lights. I said I wouldn't comment on production, but even through the inferior internet feed I can tell Enslaved went for the clean, dry production found on those last couple of discs. It fits the starker material, which naturally retains the franchise's enigmatic, surly and majestic pagan nature. When it's rocking, it's rarely blasting, rather rocking in a meaty manner like recent Satyricon, but not as numbingly caveman-simple. When the atmospheric elements (atonal riffs, post-rock reverb, '70s keyboards, acoustic strumming) creep in, they do so fluidly and naturally. When it's mellow, the delicate aura freezes you inside its gossamer chill. Behold the mighty title track, an intoxicating bit of dismal majesty that's like stumbling upon a Katatonia/Floyd/Isis jam session. Other tracks like "Fusion of Sense and Earth" and "Tides of Chaos" have a trace of the Voivod-gone-doom stench of Monumension, the band's most psycho-delic set to date. But overall, this is a tidier band than ever before, and in an era when an excellent band like Opeth is so beloved in America they're considered a sell-out act, 2006's version of Enslaved could possibly grab a piece of the larger audience they've deserved for so long, especially with all the big reviewers slobbering over Ruun. "Path To Vanir" is an odd choice for a first single/video, striding all over the Enslaved map from Viking lope to doom crawl, from midpaced guitar heroics to madman thrash to blissful fragility. I think the planned second single, "Essence" (bootleg footage from their March hometown show in Bergen here!), will go over better - like "Where the Slime Live" or "The Grand Conjuration", it spotlights an essentially underground band's most populist points while capturing enough of their idiosyncratic "magic" to serve as a viable showcase of their talent. I would crap several rocking horses if Opeth brought Enslaved over as openers. A tour like that might be enough to get me to ingest something illegal.
NEGATIVITY: -2 (introspective, elemental, esoteric)

Takin' it Greek style

More continental sonic ugliness fo yo ass. (In case you didn't see it, here's a link to the comments of the last post, where the Zombi and Stephin Merritt reviews are finally up. I had to wait until today to get the text. I forgot to send it to myself and the original publisher neglected to put it online at all, the fuckers.)

Lunar Aurora - Zyklus: Here's a pretty obscure German bunch plying a sort of black metal that walks the line between necro and prog, not as individual as Frenchmen Deathspell Omega or Romanians Negura Bunget, but far more nuanced than something like recent Shining. De rigeur for this sort of black metal, Lunar Aurora achieve a hermetic but intriguing sound that's in no hurry to get anywhere fast. These guys aren't barreling down no highway to Hell - each track gets at least a minute of intro before sliding into the actual meat of the music, and three of the four songs are over ten minutes long. "Der Morgen" lumbers into view with a doomy Enslaved riff which gradually increases in speed until at six minutes, it's suddenly blasting away. The effect is very organic, slowly inflating until a furious black metal storm is upon you, and you don't realize it because you're lost in a mesmerizing, minimal post-rock melody and the pleasingly ambient web weaved by Lunar Aurora. The stealthy keys and guitarist Aran's demonic vocals, like most other components of this album, are somewhat obscured under studio treatments, tucked into the mix like hot coals in a towel, smoldering until they burn through. When you're not in a segue but in the thick of a song, the sound of Zyklus is actually quite "warm," instruments and tones bleeding together and blanketing your senses with droning, nihilistic despair - the tempting comfort of death itself. Having also heard their more recent Mond album, I think I prefer this era of Lunar Aurora's already lengthy career, as Mond has a cleaner, more aggressive approach which, although melodically and structurally creative, is more typical of modern black metal. In addition to the aforementioned acts, I would place Zyklus in the realm of Lunar Aurora's countrymen Nocte Obducta, the only other German band I know who is operating in this milieu of semi-progressive black metal, although those guys come off as more pretentious than genuinely cerebral. Definitely makes me wonder what else is cooking in Deutschland.
NEGATIVITY: -4 (removes you from the Earth for a while)

Molested - Stormvold: A rare EP by this pre-Borknagar death metal band. It's quite a find, and pretty fucked up. The music changes up as spastically as your average post-Dillinger math/grindcore, but often hammers away in a chaotic, overbearing manner reminiscent of "war metal" knuckledraggers like Revenge or Bestial Warlust, except good, with melodic Norwegian guitars rather than tuneless clattering. The drumming is absolutely insane, sometimes rocketing the whole mess forward and sometimes giving the impression that two different bands are playing at the same time. The growling vocals are not only super low, they have a weird mix that both isolates them and fades them into the background of a deliriously fragmented bonanza of riffing, often delivered with a tremolo black/death metal technique. Just when you get used to what's happening, the song ends. At first listen, the songs seem really haphazardly slapped together, but once each track gets going, a crazed logic appears that's ultimately more interesting than early Kataklysm, another demented bunch of which Molested reminds me. As a Borknagar fan, hearing Stormvold only increases my respect for Øystein Brun's creativity. I'm sure this racket would give most people a headache, but I think it kicks serious ass. Now I really want to hear their album, which is apparently more folkloric (all this craziness, plus fiddle and mouth harp?). For that, I would apparently have to pay more than $70 on eBay. Thankfully, some kind dark soul just upped it.
NEGATIVITY: -3.5 (fun for scaring old ladies who are driving next to you)

Necromantia/Varathron - Black Arts Lead To Everlasting Sins: After the last post got me thinking about Rotting Christ, I read an article about the Greek black metal scene and decided to dip another toe into it. Another rare item, this 1994 split between two of the scene's better known acts seemed like a good place to start. It looks like it's an expanded version of a 12" released two years prior, where each band only contributed four tracks of what is on offer here. I already knew Necromantia from their decent IV: Malice record, although this split was the first I heard of their vaunted earlier era. Necromantia is unique in that they use no guitars, just bass and eight-string bass. Their sometimes doomy, sometimes frantic music is evocative if not extremely exciting, but they're pretty kvlt, often beloved by the sort of people who enjoy unbearable noise like Beherit or Black Witchery. With no guitar, it often sounds like something's wrong - the adequate recording's lack of middle range highlights the feeling that these nutters are missing a tooth. They're all avant-garde, too: a saxophone oozes into the somewhat jazzy mood piece "Evil Prayers," and at several points the experimental head-trip "De Magia Veterum" descends into a cacophany of reverbed hooting and cackles. Those tracks, along with the loping, ritualistic atmosphere of the entire Necromantia side, invoke the long-lost weirdos Evol and young Moonspell at their most arcane, free-form and theatrical, mixed with the slow and filthy style of the first Samael albums. Now, this was my first exposure to Varathron, who generally play as slowly and methodically as Necromantia and use a similar style of buried, whispery growling vocals. But they have guitars and their music is more like Rotting Christ - at the time of this recording, Varathron's bassist was also in RC. Varathron are more straightforward, almost impressionistic in their spare, repetitious employment of classic metal guitar melodies (pieces of Priest, Fate and Dio-era Sabbath mostly), and they also speed up once in a while. The exploratory guitar work is pretty hypnotic, such as the caterwauling solos that intermittently commandeer "The Tressrising of Nyarlathotep" (great title, eh?), evoking a pastoral malice with an equally classy, disorienting and unique sound. Tacked onto the end is Varathron's 1991 One Step Beyond Dreams 7", which ends the disc with an awesome display of black and thrash tempos mixed with the sort of somber, ethereal melody that seems the sole province of occult Greek metal acts from the '90s. This is recommended for those seeking something dark and idiosyncratic. Now I need to check out some old Septic Flesh, On Thorns I Lay and Nightfall...
NEGATIVITY: Necromantia: -3.5 (obstinately bizarre, no concessions to the mainstream)/Varathron: -3 (slightly more tuneful, just as recondite)

Industries of inferno

Ah, springtime. Bright skies, pleasant temperatures, color exploding all around, floral-scented winds wafting visions of possibility and twitterpation. Of course, while everybody else seems to be having such a good time, as my last post suggests, these days I'm very much in need of something abrasive, misanthropic, violent and coma-inducing. Remember that "one review per post" idea I had? Eff that. This latest quest for a truly caustic, soul-scraping album has netted a number of musty candidates, which I intend to explore over a number of upcoming posts. I've graded these ugly bastards on an anti-social scale from zero to negative five. Today's subjects:

Dissection - Reinkaos: As previously explained, my blogging pseudonym was pilfered from a Dissection song, and while I feel nothing but scorn and disgust for Jon Nödtveidt's actions (his ideology is idiotic as well), I was an immense fan of his music well before he and his buddy tortured and killed a gay Algerian man for having the poor judgment of asking to learn more about their Satanic beliefs. The pasty fucker went to prison, shaved his head, bulked up and, supposedly, worked on new Dissection songs to record after his release. When the preview single, "Maha Kali," came out last year, everyone was shocked at how crappy the demo-level recording was, but moreso at how slow, tame and average the new offering was. Even the re-recording of the classic "Unhallowed" on the b-side sounded stiff and lifeless compared with the feral, spectral beauty of the original. The consensus, reached with crossed fingers, was that "Maha" was just a way to assert Nödtveidt's commercial metal potential after reaching his status as a FUCKING CONVICTED MURDERER, and that the forthcoming album would be packed with his signature properly-produced, rhythmically intricate, melodically mournful, infectious black/death/thrash metal brilliance. Well, as was the case with the single, I found a free download of the soon-to-be-in-stores result, Reinkaos, and do not feel the slightest bit guilty about not giving Dissection one cent of my money, as it is quite a disappointment. The good news is the sound is somewhat better, not as dry or thin as the single's, but also quite standard for a modern metal album. Storm of the Light's Bane sounded like it was recorded in a damn ice cavern, and that echoing chill remains part of its vivid charm, but this album could be from any anonymous studio. More troubling are the songs themselves. "Starless Aeon," for which Nödtveidt and his crew of hired cueballs shot a video, is pretty catchy, however unambitious, and actually one of the peppiest tracks on the disc. (God Dethroned would eat Dissection 2006 for brunch... then hopefully clean their teeth with Bullet for My Valentine.) One of the few other non-snoozers, "Xeper-I-Set," was previewed with "Aeon" on the Dissection site months ago, and it's OK except for the part where Nödtveidt's actually rasping "I am the murderer who refuses to submit!" - just the sort of gangsta rap braggadocio I really hoped he'd avoid. I will admit that "Maha Kali" grew on me and that it sounds much better on the album than the first version, the female vocals treated with an effect that makes them stand out from all the other sterile tones on the record. But the rest? Turgid, midpaced heavy/death metal with pseudo-mystical lyrics only outweighed on the silliness scale by recent Morbid Angel. If this was a lost early Dissection recording that had come out in the '90s, it might be a cool artifact... but in 2006, literally dozens of bands have made better songs and albums in the style. Just take one listen to what long-gone countrymen Eucharist were able to accomplish with similarly plodding melodic black/death tempos on A Velvet Creation, or even Greeks Rotting Christ on Triarchy of the Lost Lovers, and it will be clear that the era for this sort of thing to be effective passed Nödtveidt by. I've had a lot of hope for this album over the past decade or so, only to learn in retrospect that gap-filling knockoffs like Raise Hell's Holy Target and In Aeternum's Forever Blasphemy were both better third Dissection albums than Reinkaos is.
NEGATIVITY: -2 (hope = liabilty)

Entombed - Same Difference: The least-loved album of Entombed's storied career, this dropped in the late '90s, when so many seminal death metal acts had disappeared, lapsed into self-parody or just plain dried up and vanished. The enormously influential Swedes were one of the first death metal bands I ever liked, as I bought a copy of Wolverine Blues for $3 from a dumb Lincoln Park yuppie CD shop and ended up a fan. I didn't realize until later that at that point, the band was seriously changing its sound. I heard some songs off the follow-up, DCLVXI: To Ride, Shoot Straight and Speak the Truth!, but they sounded weak and commercial compared to the blistering heft of Left Hand Path. Some years later, I heard the whole album and was surprised to like it for what it was. Anyway, Same Difference followed To Ride..., and upon its release, tons of reviews slammed it as soulless garage punk rawk shite (most of the mags still covering Entombed being European). But following the quintet's transcendently violent and pleasingly diverse set at Milwaukee Metalfest 2000, my interest returned, and has been there ever since. Until recently, Same Difference was the hole in my Entombed collection, since its reputation says it sucks. And yes, it turns out to be my least favorite of their sets, since it is pretty much a bare-bones version of the To Ride... material. It's basically slower Entombed groomed into a gruff, groovy '90s alterna-metal mode, sounding like something that could have possibly been part of a REAL Lollapalooza line-up had it been released a half-decade earlier. The major culprit is the clean production, perfectly characterized in the link above. It is a regular pro hard rock sound, like something by Audioslave or whatever. Now, I don't hate Audioslave, but Tom Morello does not write the same sort of tooth-kicking, dirty-ass "death n' roll" riffs that Entombed brought the world. Entombed's guitars need, if not the "Sunlight sound", then at least something suitably ugly and abrasive, and they unfortunately lack that here. There's also not as much psychedelic weirdness as To Ride... offered, and although it shares the variety of that album, it's more polite. L-G Petrov doesn't holler as hoarsely as he did before or after, but he sounds fine semi-singing on opener "Addiction King." Most of the actual songs on Same Difference are okay to me, since they are not a million miles away from what the band has done elsewhere. I like the newer Entombed albums, which have a lot of slower and midtempo tunes, and this album focuses on that side of their style. Seen through the gauze of all their other records, it makes sense that this less misanthropical path was once explored. It's not as bad as some would have you believe, but I'm still glad that Uprising followed, putting the fangs back in and veering from the more "respectable" path the departed Nicke Andersson followed. By the end of my life, I think I will say I listened to the recently-acquired Nihilist demos more often than I did this.
NEGATIVITY: -1 (could definitely use some harshness)

Mysticum - In the Streams of Inferno: Here's a regular kvlt act for ya. Althouth apparently still active, Norway's Mysticum has only made one proper LP, this one from 1996. It's amassed a small reputation over the years as a pioneering piece of electronic/black metal synergy. I must agree, this is a wicked mix of chainsaw guitars and club beats, and it really stands on its own, apart from other landmarks of the black-industrial canon like Samael's lush Passage or Dødheimsgard's amazingly fucked-up 666 International, laying the groundwork for acts like Red Harvest, Diabolicum and Aborym. (Mysticum guitarist Prime Evil is actually Aborym's current vocalist, taking over when Attila Csihar went back to Mayhem.) There are only two modes of operation for Mysticum on this debut: tooth-rattling apocalypse or eerie drone. That's not to say there's much monotony, a common trait of much "industrial" styled music, as the programmed beats change up in a fairly structured, Baroque manner. In fact, a track like "Wintermass" might actually go over with a more mainstream crowd if it remained at the clanging trudge grounding its verses. My personal favorite, though, would be "Where the Raven Flies," which starts as a minimalist two-note keyboard dirge. The tension builds for about a minute and a half before exploding into an overdriven dance track, one which happens to include a wall of scraping guitar, cold and fuzzy in that special cheap, static-y black metal way. Used more for its rhythmic quality, the guitar is pretty subtle here, the keyboard carrying the weight of the spare melody, very similar in effect to Darkthrone's beautiful "Transylvanian Hunger" - a song which I always thought would sound pretty cool if someone turned it into a straight-up Eurodance number to piss off the underground elite. (That will be on my upcoming split 7" - co-participants T.B.A.) Even the final track, one of those "mood piece" jobs so popular with your more pretentious black metal acts, is effective, run through enough effects to keep the texture consistent with the rest of the album's crackling terror. Entitled "In the Last of the Ruins We Search for a New Planet," it sounds like a spooky phantom transmission from a diseased sector of the galaxy, far from the sun and damned beyond hope. Although unconventional, this album is a perfect example of what I really want from black metal, a desolate and vehement outpouring of otherworldly misery. I doubt Mysticum would appreciate the word "communal" being associated with their work, but it's really nice that they let you download the whole thing for free at their site (get the .zip under "releases"). Highly recommended, although I suggest turning the files into .wavs and boosting the sound levels a bit before burning.
NEGATIVITY: -4 (bleak, numbing, inhuman)

Update, 5/8 - Here is a gander at some non-metal stuff I'm enjoying, new products by Zombi and Stephin Merritt. Catch you on the flipside.