ALBUM REVIEW: Thou, "Magus"

By: Jay Hampshire

Album Type: Full Length

Date Released:31/08/2018

Label: Sacred Bones Records

What lurks at its buried heart, as with much of Thou’s work, is a surprising positivity that’s belied by the ugliness and raw visceral spite that surrounds it – this work is, for all its crushing weight, effortlessly uplifting, cathartic and even motivational. Another vital release by one of the most vital bands in extreme music.

‘Magus’ CD//DD//LP track listing:

1. Inward ​

2. My Brother Caliban​

3. Transcending Dualities

4. The Changeling Prince

5. Sovereign Self​

6. Divine Will​

7. In the Kingdom of Meaning​

8. Greater Invocation of Disgust

9. Elimination Rhetoric

10. The Law Which Compels​

11. Supremacy

The Review:

Sometimes art can be a daunting prospect, a towering, inaccessible edifice of grandiose scope. It can cow the unprepared and deter the unwary. Think of those who have meant to read Melville but balked at the density of Moby Dick, have longed to delve into the canon of a serial drama but are paralysed into inaction by the sheer number of episodes.

This is where we find ourselves with Baton Rouge’s premier doomed out sludge slingers Thou. Since their formation in 2005 they’ve exhibited a blistering work ethic that’s seen them churn out (according to Metal Archives) forty one separate demos, splits, compilations, EPs, singles and full lengths (that’s an average of around three releases a year, for you metal maths fans). Four of these have been released in the last nine months alone.  And it isn’t a simple case of quantity of quality either; each Thourelease, hell, every Thou song is heaving under the weight of more riffs than most bands can conjure up in their entire life span. For the neophyte, picking a place to start would seem futile. Latest full length ‘Magus’ might not be the most accessible foothold, weighing in at over seventy minutes long, but as a pure distillation of what the five piece can do, it stands shoulder to shoulder among the best of their oeuvre.

Opener ‘Inward’ lulls with a false sense of security, the melancholic creeping notes taking on a sub-black metal lilt before it opens up into a stately, processional main riff. Alternating between this grander section and moments of claustrophobic, tunnel dredging chug, it’s a velvet wrapped sledgehammer of restless density. ‘My Brother Caliban’ offers brief respite with tension building electronics before ‘Transcending Dualities’ drags us down into the choking waters of doom, guitars shifting and squirming through cracks in the dense chord onslaught of the instrumental trawl.

‘The Changeling Prince’ is fittingly regal, with lush, majestic chord progressions waging pitched battle with rolling chugs, Bryan Funck bringing things crashing down with his scalded shriek of “behind the mask, another mask” ad infinitum. ‘Sovereign Self’ picks up the pace, gentle guitars and vulnerable vocals suddenly exploding with a jarring shift into thick riffs and tribal tom work. ‘Diving Will’ drifts with dreamlike, ethereal vocals before ‘In The Kingdom Of Meaning’swings in with lurching, meandering layers that build to an inexorable climb.

‘Greater Invocation Of Disgust’ drips with scuzzy, moody bass, uneasily shifting on the back of an infectious drum groove and squealing guitar protests. ‘Elimination Rhetoric’ stabs with atonal guitars, swaying into a hazy solo before buckling under its own weight into a bloated chug.

By the time you reach the zenith of sprawling closer ‘Supremacy’, all but the most hardened aural pilgrims will doubtless be suffering from ‘riff fatigue’. ‘Magus’ is a gauntlet, a crust of straining musculature beneath which an endless chasm of nuance and reward lurks. You could stay too long in its stygian depths and risk madness, or skim the surface and come away satisfied. What lurks at its buried heart, as with much of Thou’swork, is a surprising positivity that’s belied by the ugliness and raw visceral spite that surrounds it – this work is, for all its crushing weight, effortlessly uplifting, cathartic and even motivational. Another vital release by one of the most vital bands in extreme music.

“Magus’ is available here

Band info:  bandcamp

ALBUM REVIEW: Bongripper, "Terminal"

By: Jay Hamphsire

Album Type: Full Length

Date Released: 06/072018

Label: The Great Barrier Records

The shorter form sees Bongripper keep things lean with ‘Terminal’, losing none of their signature heft, brutal tone or hypnotic, meditative sway, gaining an unconstrained momentum and razor edged focus that cannot be denied.

“Terminal” CD//DD//LP track listing:

1). Slow

2). Death

The Review:

Chicago’s Bongripper are the doom bands’ doom band. For nearly fifteen years they’ve waged a campaign of sonic terror and aural battery that has won respect and admiration from fans and other artists alike. Their long-form, instrumental tirades are at once crushingly heavy and achingly melancholic, often wandering off into ethereal lightness. Seventh full length ‘Terminal’ is no exception.

First things first, yes, by their own lofty standards, ‘Terminal’ is relatively breezy. Weighing in at around 40 minutes, it’s removed from the epic crawls of the hour plus ‘Satan Worshipping Doom’, ‘Miserable’ and ‘Hippie Killer’. But this comparable brevity serves the band incredibly well; split into the roughly equal halves of ‘Slow’ and ‘Death’, the record is a distillation of everything at which Bongripper excel, namely heaving atmospherics and incalculable numbers of riff.

‘Slow’ broods with synth before building feedback like a swelling thunderhead, Daniel O'Connor’s massive kick strikes a focal point amid the growing intensity. They tease the drop, keeping you waiting, before it falls in like a basement ceiling. Droning, grinding chords shift like plate tectonics, riffs changing organically and inexorably before things fade out into a wistful, drifting clean guitar chime. Layer by layer, the band construct this wearied groove, rising further and further, spurred by the guiding force of Ronald Petzke’s driving bassline. When the ‘heavy’ comes back in, it’s suffocatingly dense, inhabiting all possible aural space, the single locked in chords raining down like hammer blows as a guitar overlay drenched in reverb spirals off into the void. It’s towering, climactic stuff. But the ‘ripper ain’t finished with you yet.

As the first track bleeds into ‘Death’with creeping static and roiling synths, before the second song asserts dominance with a swaggering riff that steadily dredges deeper and deeper, slowing, bloating and staggering amidst pounding toms. The band show canny use of negative space, before earth shattering kicks ushering a rolling mid-tempo groove and needling guitar overlay that comes right out of left field. Back into their original dredging groove, any sense of comfort or familiarity is whipped away once more by a strident, sludgy guitar gallop, tight triplets descending into throbbing feedback. Uniting once more into hammerblow chords, Nick Dellacroce and Dennis Pleckham conjure a steadily maddening atonal guitar duel that rides the waves of unstoppable drums.

The shorter form sees Bongripper keep things lean with ‘Terminal’, losing none of their signature heft, brutal tone or hypnotic, meditative sway, gaining an unconstrained momentum and razor edged focus that cannot be denied. Perfectly crafted, and well worth the four year wait.

“Terminal”is available here

Band info: bandcamp || facebook

ALBUM REVIEW: Solleme, "This Infinite Violence"

By: Jay Hampshire

Album Type:Full Length

Date Released:01/02/2018

Label:Independent

Solleme conjure an unholy racket, but one that is woven and crafted with a keen eye. ‘This Infinite Violence’ might well see your play count stretching into the infinite too.

“This Infinite Violence” DD track listing:

1. Cost Of Conviction     

2. This Infinite Violence

3. Dolore Fra Noi

4. Sanguine Earth

5. Bide  

6. VI       

7. In Suffering

The Review:

For a city so synonymous with cheerful positivity and acceptance, Brighton is currently producing some of the rawest and most desolate heavy music around. Genre-confine-bucking triumvirate Solleme’s sound might be difficult to pigeonhole, but ‘desolate’ at least begins to convey the void black undercurrent of bleakness that suffuses their debut album ‘This Infinite Violence’.

And it’s not an album that eases you in gently. Opener ‘Cost Of Conviction’ is like barrelling through a dimly lit labyrinth, constantly shifting, the ground moving under your feet. From the intro’s distance noise and sparse guitar that drifts like smoke, the calm belies the growing storm that drops in as concrete-thick grinding chords and lances of feedback. From this, racing blackened tremolo guitars spur things on, more akin to the expansive blackgaze of Deafheaven than the sweeping northern exposure of acts like Mayhem. The trio rip into a driving, chugging groove, drums and guitar locked in mechanically tight, before ending strong on one-two hammerblow chords.

The title track encompasses doom influences, pillars of held chords interwoven by spider-like atonal guitar notes and crashing cymbal hits. It’s unhurried, lumbering at a predatory pace, lurching from one vitriolic riff to another. ‘Dolore Fra Noi’ (Pain Between Us)broods with distant shrieks and uneasy, groaning feedback, the muffled shouts materialising into a breathless warning from across the void.

‘Sanguine Earth’lays down a thick foundation of rolling drum work before shrieked vocals firmly establish the centre ground, guitars ambling in a class-edge sharp waltz as the drums nail things in place. Things take on hardcore infused shape through a breathless d-beat section before an abrupt end stops things dead. ‘Bide’ inhabits the distance, tolling guitar notes ringing and echoing out until a feedback drenched riff barges in, galloping into a strident chug, hefty kick drum hits used almost like punctuation. ‘VI’s steady, slow drums are surrounded on all sides by a shimmering, almost industrial noisescape.

Finale ‘In Suffering’ whips away, carried aloft by a pulsing black metal headwind, descending into a crawling, sludge infused riff that opens out into creeping guitars. The band prove they can shift dynamics on a dime, blindsiding with false endings, opening out to cast their sounds into a seemingly infinite aural negative space. As the track slows and winds down amid final throat ruining screams, there’s a sense of wearied exhaustion that no doubt connects band and listener alike.

In a scene creaking under the weight of the sheer number of formidable riffs, where bands seek to channel as many disparate influences as possible, it’s rare for an act to manifest both so effortlessly, and rarer still for this to happen on a debut album. While drummer Fred and guitarist Sam’s musicianship lays solid foundation, it’s vocalist Frank’s stunning delivery that secures the final piece of the jigsaw. While not fully conveying his magnetic live presence, the record still showcases his inhuman talent. There’s a glut of heavy vocalists making all sorts of horrible noises, but few do it with such tortured finesse, with such communicated emotion. Despite being ‘just’ a three piece, Solleme conjure an unholy racket, but one that is woven and crafted with a keen eye. ‘This Infinite Violence’ might well see your play count stretching into the infinite too.

“This Infinite Violence”is available here

Band info: bandcamp || facebook

REVIEW: Empress, "Reminiscence" [EP]

By: Jay Hampshire

Album Type: Full length

Date Released: 12/02/2018

Label: Independent

Empress have taken a tried and tested formula of sludge metal and shot it through with enough outside influences to revitalise, and executed it with both obvious competency and righteous flair. If you’re interested in a change of pace, ‘Reminiscence’ is definitely it.

“Reminiscence” CD/DD track listing

1. The Offering (03:54)     

2. Immer (08:06)

3. Baptizer (02:50)

4. They Speak Like Trees (09:27)

5. Dawn (03:30)

The Review:

In a genre as swollen as the current sludge metal scene, it’s getting increasingly difficult for bands to stand out from the heaving crowd. Sure, your riffs are peppered with groovy blues shifts and groaning under the weight of distortion, but whose aren’t? The last word you’d expect to use when describing a new sludge release is ‘surprised’, but Vancouver based trio Empresstake the framework and contort it into something still recognisable, but near wholly original.

‘The Offering’kicks things off with enough familiarity; burbling sci-fi synths are crushed under the weight of jarring chords, striding into a typically sludge riff with Peter Sacco’s blistering roars arcing atop. Slowing down and teasing with rumbling, fuzzed-out bass, it stalks into a brooding main riff with an undercurrent of atonal tremolo, ending on a strong feedback drenched chord. So far, so sludge.

But you’ve been lulled into a false sense of security, only to have the rug pulled out from under you.

‘Immer’ positively bounces with an incredibly energetic, movement heavy riff, with all the pop sensibility of a good Torche track. It’s punchy, a ‘good time’ vibe that Sacco’s vocals don’t really match until the trio shift gear and move into a muscular riff straight out of Mastodon’s early era playbook. Rattling snares usher us upwards into a soaring, sweeping post-rock ascension that is infectiously uplifting and a world away from the hard riffing of ‘The Offering’.

‘Baptizer’smoody, Nirvana-esque bass line is swallowed by the sudden impact of a dense layer of heavy riffs, punctuated by Chris Doyle’s constantly shifting drum work. Weighing in at under three minutes, it’s shorter and sharper than the two tracks it’s sandwiched between. ‘They Speak Like Trees’, the album’s zenith, ambles slowly and ponderously, backed by pounding toms and lances of feedback. Steadily building to a locked in chugging riff, it continues to climb through passages of unexpectedly stripped down hard-rock and wandering, clean contemplation, driving home to an energising finish.

Closer ‘Dawn’ is a shimmering dreamscape of guitar noodling and rushing synths, a gentle comedown from the album’s lofty peaks, a touch messy but pleasing nonetheless. Empresshave taken a tried and tested formula and shot it through with enough outside influences to revitalise, and executed it with both obvious competency and righteous flair. If you’re interested in a change of pace, ‘Reminiscence’ is definitely it.

‘Reminiscence’is available here

Band info: facebook || bandcamp

REVIEW: Hundred Year Old Man - "Rei" [EP]

By: Jay Hampshire

Album Type: EP

Date Released:26/01/2018

Label: Gizeh Records

For fans of expansive, unhurried post-metal that explores both softness and bleakness, Hundred Year Old Man serve up a three track taster that will whet the appetite.  This is an atmospheric and well executed record that will have fans hungry for their debut full-length to come later this year.

“Rei” LP/DD track listing

1). Sun & Moon (6:26)

2). A Year In The North Sea(2:34)

3). Rei (9:00)

The Review:

Some people would scoff at the idea of ordering an appetiser as a standalone meal. Surely a starter can only ever act as a warm up for a larger dish, something to take the edge off a yawning hunger before fully satiating it with the main course. For some, Leeds based post-metal sextet Hundred Year Old Man have provided just this with their three track ‘Rei’ EP. But for the more discerning audio gourmand, ‘Rei’ can be fully digested and appreciated as a stand-alone release.

Opener ‘Sun & Moon’ begins slowly, distant guitar fading in like an intensifying ethereal wind as samples echo and shimmer. Densely reverbed drums begin a slow, stately report as droning chords grind in like stone moving on stone. The wearied pace continues as Paul Broughton’s crowing vocals erupt, before the track fades into mere guitar motes and sibilant cymbals. Reigned back in by a plodding bass undertow, things bloom out into a thick haze of instrumentation, smooth as silk.

‘A Year In The North Sea’ is a caesura of sorts, a building wall of noise and sumptuous choral vocals that warp and twist, buffeted by rising guitar feedback and distant shrieks, ending in a thicket of birdcall based noise.

The title track itself jams in with tolling, brooding bass and lances of guitar, expanding to fill a vast space, winding and lurching towards a heavy, doom centric riff. They slowly revolve around this theme, instruments dropping in and out, vocals echoing into the distance, building dread before the track ends abruptly, forming into a screeching noise scape and then a creaking synth loop.

For fans of expansive, unhurried post-metal that explores both softness and bleakness, Hundred Year Old Man serve up a three track taster that will whet the appetite. Despite a slightly ropey mix leaving ‘Sun & Moon’ a little too vocal heavy and that shuns the traditional heavy/light dynamics integral to true post metal effectiveness in favour of embracing sprawling expanse, this is an atmospheric and well executed record that will have fans hungry for their debut full-length to come later this year.

“Rei” is available here

Band info: bandcamp || facebook

ALBUM REVIEW: Made Of Teeth - "Made Of Teeth"

By: Jay Hampshire

Album Type: Full Length

Date Released: 28/08/2017

Label: Red Sun Sounds

Made Of Teeth have produced a confident, punchy, and savage debut that provides the listener with labyrinthine levels of surprises around each corner.

“Made Of Teeth” DD track listing

1). Citrus Fetus Potus

2). Drunk On Bleach

3). Weeper

4). Hook, Tooth and Claw

5). Bleak Phlegm

6). The Karman Line

The Review

What do you do with your down time? Binge watch the latest Netflix must see? Vainly attempt to put together some flat pack furniture without resorting to violence? Spin up some vinyl and indulge in some of the Devil’s lettuce? For Welsh heavy-underground luminaries Chris West and Steve Jones, their down time from ‘main’ doom/country/psych/stoner/prog/kitchen-sink project Spider Kitten has seen them give birth to something beautiful in its malignancy.

Made Of Teeth (and the self-titled debut record) were born of an insatiable lust to play live and as up in folks’ faces as possible. The third leg of the sonic stool is provided by Lacertilia’sTom Cole on bass/vocals, seeing West on guitar/vocal duties and Jones handling duties behind the kit (as well as vocals, because three pissed off growls are better than one). The kind of sneering, vitriolic punk energy the best live bands tote around is captured and somehow restrained across the six tracks on offer.

‘Citrus Fetus Potus’ comes in hard with shimmering cymbals and a clock ticking like a bomb timer, before exploding with stabbing riffs that lumber like old-school Mastodon licks. Barked vocals buffer around the twisting, writhing guitars, almost used as punctuation. Stuttering palm muting hits like a closed fist, before the track ends on some beefy call and response shouts. ‘Drunk On Bleach’trills with bright guitar before locking into a ripper of a drive, a real fist pumping, chugging groove. It’s a tad rough around the edges, but satisfyingly so, dropping briefly into a deceptively calm section with some monstrous vocals. It’s simple, but it’s fucking slablike.

‘Weeper’ shuffles in with some creepy backmasking, before crawling away on the back of a dour riff. Spoken word vocals come across like the fractured ramblings of a serial killers’ notebook, before rising up into jarring motes of atonality and massive chords. ‘Hook, Tooth and Claw’ is the biggest departure on the record. Lapping ways and a slow rush of breath usher in hollow, jangling, melancholy acoustic guitar (a possible hint at the bands’ experiences with all things Arachnid and Feline). Bolshy, bouncing riffs kick this aside with a hobnailed boot, hardcore gang vocals and razor edged bass rolling tidally over an underlay of muscular toms.

‘Bleak Phlegm’ is as delicate as it sounds, plodding, Melvins-ian bass and skittering guitar under ranting vocals swaggering away. Things amp up into a ballsier main riff, held chords screeching protest before collapsing into a gentle, lilting loop that builds to a dramatic, slowly revolving crescendo – it’s the longest song here, and it exploits its length to great effect. ‘The Karman Line’ hops with punk energy and rolling drums, scrappy with layers of guitar and angular riffing, running the gamut between lo-fi grooves and grungy drives.

Heavier and more confrontational than any work we’ve heard from the trio’s other projects (even Wests’ stint with the much missed Taint) there’s a simple ferocity to Made Of Teeth’s sound that sees them eschew overly flash production and gimmicky performance. They don’t skimp on songcraft, however, as it takes both nous and talent to write solid slabs of riffola that sound joyously simplistic while being anything but. They combine elements from all over the influence spectrum with an unerring smoothness, providing a listen that’s labyrinthine in the surprises around each corner. Confident, punchy, and savage – one thing that drips from every pore of this release is the knowledge that the band had as much cathartic fun making it as you will listening to it.

‘Made Of Teeth’ is available here

Band info: bandcamp || facebook

ALBUM REVIEW: Wounded Giant - "Vae Victis"

By: Jay Hampshire

Album Type:Full Length

Date Released:01/04/2017

Label:STB Records

there are moments of majestic riffing and an impressive amount of variation on offer

“Vae Victis” DD//CD//LP track listing

1. Vae Victis (9:30)

2. Dysthiest (6:20)

3. Immanentize The Eschaton (Jim Jones Instrumental) (4:43)

4. Scum Of The Earth (7:03)

5. The Room Of The Torch (7:36)

6. Green Scar (6:09)

The Review:

If you’re not up to snuff on your Latin, ‘Vae Victis’, the title of the second full length from Seattle based psych-doomsters Wounded Giant, roughly translates as “woe to the conquered”. While this might conjure images of a record full of mighty battle hymns and victorious fist-pumping metal, the six tracks and near hour of riffing tells a much different story.

The title track opens the show with a ghostly rush, approaching as if from a great distance. It’s loud and immediate, settling into a groove buoyed by tumbling, scattered toms and military snare roll snaps. The main riff grinds and thunders like a slightly slower Slomatics, loping along before locking in and slowing down into an Electric Wizardianbuzzing guitar line. When the band start to crawl it’s much more menacing, switching up into tension building section before dropping into a tasty groove with snatches of deep bass. There’s a lot of variation here, but it’s the conclusion of the track where things really pick up, a maze of twin wandering guitars.

‘Dystheist’is all scuzzy bass and tribal drumming, growling feedback and swaggering guitars pitching the band between a slightly lighter Conan and a less woolly Mastodon. ‘Immanentize The Eschaton’ (you kiss your mother with that mouth?) chimes like an old school Hammond organ, a wah heavy bass undertow and lazy drums joined by punchy chords and a pulsing synth loop, muddled in with vocal samples that too be honest is a tad tough to comprehend.  ‘Scum Of The Earth’ is swollen with sludgy weight, straining vocals riding out the deep, bluesy undertones, a muted chugging drive dragging us through. It’s less changeable and varied than the previous, but the psyched out guitar layers, droning vocals and frantic drumming make it seem like you’re falling into a tunnel of brown acid. ‘The Room Of The Torch’ shimmers and wavers, guitars tentatively licking in, forming into a righteous riff reminiscent of The Sword. Satisfying stuff, energetic and well executed, even if the climax is a little on the standard side.

‘Green Scar’is slow, foreboding and buzzy. Sighing vocals and striding riffs match pace with restless, cymbal heavy drums, but for the album’s zenith, it seems a little weak and directionless. The latter word is perhaps a decent, if harsh, summary of the record. While there are moments of majestic riffing and canny song structure here (and an impressive amount of variation), there’s no sense of real unification of purpose. Coupled with some vocals that err a little too much on the ‘spirited amateur’ side of things, some lyrics that are a little too ’14 year old writing in the back page of a school book’, plus a music scene saturated with bands doing this exact thing (and often better), and ‘Vae Victis’ more likely won’t find its way into your heavily rotated records.

“Vae Victis”is available here

Band info: bandcamp || facebook

ALBUM REVIEW: Kollapse - "Angst"

By: Jay Hampshire

Album Type: Full Length

Date Released: 19/05/2017

Label: Wooaaargh

 

“Angst” see’s Kollapse unafraid to mix their influences, and their musicianship and talent sees them more than capable of pulling this off.

“Angst” CS//DD//LP listing

1). Void (04:36)

2. Death Of A Monotheist (02:06)

3. Gueules Cassées (06:42)

4. Till Holle (05:11)

5. Blinding Light (03:19)

6. Nesting (06:17

7. Abandon (06:02)

The Review:

Denmark’s Kollapse confound and impress in equal measure with their latest full length, “Angst”. A shifting gauntlet of bared influence and canny execution, it’s a strange blend of the eerily familiar and being kept on your toes. “Void” kicks things off with a scything tremolo drive worthy of black metal, descending into frantic blastbeats before meshing back together into a cleaner, more meditative section, swinging again into slowly stuttering chords and shimmering cymbals. “Death Of A Monotheist” is a short, sharp blast of uptempo hardcore stomp, burning itself out fast.

“Gueules Cassées” is a multi-layered rager, frustrated screams echoing late-era Breach in tone, steadily descending riffs boring down amid constantly changeable drums. Softer guitars jangle over smooth bass, a slower flow, evocative and moody, before atonal guitars needle in, living up to the album’s title. “Til Holle” bristles with predatory grooves and droning guitar lines, arguably the least fully fleshed out offering here. “Blinding Light” sees choked guitars and restrained drums contrasted with throaty, bellowed vocals, the crashing waves of post-metal chords and processional pace sounding like the end of a song rather than the start.

“Nesting” sweeps in with tremolo before turning the corner into a driving, righteous post-punk groove, blooming into layers of lighter, sorrowful guitar, piling up into an Isis-ian crescendo. Closer “Abandon” scratches and scrapes with a manic drive before bursting into a rushing melee of pacey punk ire, slowing into lumbering chords and layered screams. There’s lots of space, but rarely any silence or negative air.

“Angst” see’s Kollapse unafraid to mix their influences, and their musicianship and talent sees them more than capable of pulling this off. Perhaps the biggest flaw with their sound is their need to err ever on the side of drama. Each song here has a section (and many have a backbone solely comprised of one) that pushes upwards and outwards, hinged on the wide scope and crescendo of post rock. While it’s undeniably enjoyable to behold, it seems to suck the power out of these uplifting, soaring moments. While probably more affecting live, it leaves you wondering about a loss of impact. If everything’s a crescendo, surely nothing is?

“Angst” is available here

Band info: bandcamp || facebook

ALBUM REVIEW: Vermilion Whiskey - "Spirit of Tradition"

By: Jay Hampshire

Album Type: Full Length

Date Released: 17/02/2017

Label: 10 South Productions

“Spirit of Tradition” CD//DD track listing:

1). Road King

2). The Past Is Dead

3). Come Find Me

4). Monolith

5). One Night

6). Loaded Up

The Review:

We don’t have to tell you that Vermilion Whiskey are from South Louisiana – it’s plain enough from the booze-and-blues soaked riffing of their latest release, ‘Spirit Of Tradition’. Six slices of southern fried hard-rock, executed with the kind of honest bar-rock conviction you’d expect to find from a self-confessed ‘working man’s band’.

‘Road King’ grabs you by the collar of your denim jacket and shoves your face right into the bargain CD bin of every hard-rock cliché imaginable. Rote lyrics, overly dramatic guitar gymnastics and slightly mumbling, crooning vocals let you know exactly what you’re in store for. ‘The Past Is Dead’ kicks off promisingly enough with an urgent, muted guitar riff, but that’s quickly nixed when all the tempo is bled out of it like a stuck pig. It winds down into a template mid-tempo groover, before a stilted galloping section and cringe worthy spoken-word vocals bloat things out so the track more than overstays its’ welcome.

‘Come Find Me’ features some decent throaty bass rumbles and steadily building toms, but the records lacklustre production job sees the low end buried under sloppy layers of slightly tinny guitars. A little more punch on the bass and drums could have done the band a lot of dynamic favours. The moody ‘Monolith’ builds slowly, with jangling guitars, lush cymbals and decent layering, but seems to want to rush too quickly into upbeat, riffier waters, rather than letting things breathe and develop.

‘One Night’ stops and starts before winding up to a Black Stone Cherry-esque mid-tempo roll that contains the lyrics, shit you not, “I drink whiskey and I cry”. Closer ‘Loaded Up’ is movement heavy, with lots of ascending and descending runs among the scratchy riffs, speeding up frantically before ending hard, and being immediately forgotten.

If you caught Vermilion Whiskey in their natural surroundings, namely a slightly scuzzy, nameless bar somewhere in the Southern USA, they’d provide an evening of worthy entertainment. Their musicianship is solid, if derivative, and there’s a sense of honesty about it – no pretence or high art here. Taken out of this context, however, they are template at best, boring at worst, doing nothing to challenge neither the listener nor the trappings of 70’s bluesy hard rock. According to ‘Road King’, “momma used to say turn that music down”. It might not be ‘rock ‘n’ roll’, but we wish they’d listened to her.

“Spirit of Tradition”is available here

Band info: bandcamp|| facebook