Storm Corrosion – Storm Corrosion (4/5)

Steve Wilson (Porcupine Tree) and Mikael Akerfeldt (Opeth) have been threatening this collaboration since Wilson produced Opeth’s early noughties’ classic Blackwater Park, but it has taken over a decade for the duo to finally get around to writing, recording and releasing the thing. Much has changed in the musical camps of both artists since rumours first began circulating about the pair wanting to write an album together – Porcupine Tree morphed into a metal band (with mixed results), and Opeth did the opposite; detaching the ‘death’ from their death-prog tag and regressing into a dark, retro progressive rock outfit on last year’s Heritage (also with mixed results).

Storm Corrosion is both nothing like either musician’s day job, yet constantly references them throughout its 6 sprawling tracks. Any seasoned listener of either Wilson or Akerfeldt’s work will easily pick out who’s doing what at any given moment on the record, yet Storm Corrosion is a strikingly unique piece of work despite this. Indeed, the fundamentals of this album occupy quite a wide space to begin with, as the realms of acidic folk-prog, psychedelia, and ambient music are mashed together to form an eclectic, dark but oddly calming listen. Percussion is almost non-existent, as are any nods towards song structures, rock or metal conventions, and each song inhabits a sort of free-form space from which it is given plenty of room to breathe. The songs tend to evolve and develop slowly, with layers gradually building upon one another. Opener ‘Drag Ropes’ perfectly sums up the album, with its odd pacing and 9 minute length revealing a morose atmosphere on repeated listens, which is of course aided by the amazing, must-see video that was created to accompany it. The title track is another highlight, with Wilson leading a sort of folksy journey that descends into a nightmarish collage of harsh strings. The song is incredibly evocative and atmospheric; the kind of thing Akerfeldt talked about trying to achieve with Heritage but missed the mark with is effortlessly displayed here. Closer ‘Ljudet Innan’ is another fantastic track, with Akerfeldt adopting a fragile, Bon Iver-ish falsetto that sounds odd from the guy who gave us ‘Demon of the Fall’ but works wonderfully as the album’s closer.

Much is being made of Storm Corrosion being ‘exactly the opposite of what the fans would expect’ or whatever, but I disagree. The pair had always proclaimed their intention to do something a little different with this project or not do it at all, and for them to have released an intricate prog-metal album would not only have been painfully obvious, but also impossible to live up to the sort of hyperactive expectations that such a pairing would be forced to endure from the average fickle progressive rock fanboy. If anything, Storm Corrosion acts as an interesting counterpoint to Opeth’s Heritage, for as mentioned before there is at times a strangely similar atmosphere, but it also sounds more confident than the tentative step away from the world of metal that Opeth made last year. The album won’t be for everyone, of course, because the nature of such a record is that the listener is required to be passive rather than participant, and some fans of Porcupine Tree and Opeth will lament what they see as their heroes’ descent into the realms of dullness. Nevertheless, Storm Corrosion is a triumph for both parties; a rare example of a ‘supergroup’ combining its strengths to form an even better whole, and is arguably the best thing either party have released in years.

4/5

Revenge – Scum.Collapse.Eradication (4/5)

Revenge have been relentlessly inflicting their ugly, primitive cacophonies of the black/death variety for over 10 years now, and Scum.Collapse.Eradication picks up right where 08’s Infiltration.Downfall.Death left off. Revenge are the kind of band that have to be heard to be believed; lumbering slabs of murky death metal riffs clash with the grimier end of black metal, each cut punctured by James Read’s otherworldly screeches and barks. There are very few vocalists in metal left who can truly shake the bowels of the listener quite the way Read does – his growls emit a sort of snarling, canine quality, whilst the frequent shrieks excrete a mental intensity that can be quite difficult to even listen to in the wrong headspace (not there’s really a ‘right’ headspace for this kind of thing per se). The end result is for all intents a manifesto in absolute, raging spite, with each track being both complex due to the powerful riffage, fantastic drumming and frequent lead work, but also primitive thanks to the invocation of such single-minded, reptilian aggression.

Revenge certainly aren’t for the faint of heart, but those with the mettle for such noise will be rewarded with an incredibly evocative black/death album, which effortlessly achieves the very basic aims that its genre was created to in the first place, but rarely is it ever achieved with such hateful panache.

4/5

The Beauty of Gemina – Iscariot Blues (3/5)

Following on the gothic trail blazed by yesterday’s Marilyn Manson review, next up is Switzerland’s The Beauty of Gemina. Utilising some well-worn tricks from the goth-rock rulebook – post-punk, dark wave, maudlin balladry, electronic nods to Depeche Mode etc etc, The Beauty of Gemina nonetheless manage to weave a satisfyingly dark atmosphere throughout the 10 songs on offer.

When they do post-punk in the early Bauhaus vein, they do it very well indeed, as evidenced by ‘Haddon Hall’ and ‘Golden Age’. Yet it’s when they step out of the comfort zone of their genre that the band take on a life of their own; ‘Badlands’ evokes Exciter era Depeche Mode with its off-kilter bluesy acoustic guitar lick, and the highlight of the album must surely be ‘Stairs’, a fairly morose ballad but one that features a fantastic chorus courtesy of Michael Sele’s rich, deep timbre.

The album isn’t perfect, however, and regrettably the band occasionally wanders into cheesy dancefloor ‘industrial’ territory – a subgenre that is bewilderingly beloved by huge swathes of Goths despite almost always being utterly shit (not to mention completely ruining the word ‘industrial’ for the rest of us). This is the exception rather than the rule, however, with synths generally relegated to a more tasteful supporting role. Despite its imperfections, however, The Beauty of Gemina have crafted an elegant, well-executed collection of goth rock songs with this album, and it certainly runs rings around a lot of their contemporary peers.

3/5

Marilyn Manson – Born Villain (3.5/5)

It hasn’t been a very good decade for the once notorious Manson – Holy Wood was the last album with any real fire to it, coming in the wake of the media’s frenzied post-Columbine scapegoating which gave him plenty to write about, and since then he’s suffered a sharp decline in artistic fortunes that culminated in the dreadful self-parodying, mid-life crisis wallow in self-pity that was Eat Me, Drink Me. The return of Twiggy Ramirez to the fold caused the trajectory of his career to start a slow climb back into an upwards direction, even if the resultant High End of Low had plenty of flaws of its own, but it was most certainly an improvement and had some pretty cool diamonds amongst the rough.

So onto Born Villain, then. By his own admission, this is being considered a ‘comeback’ album of sorts, in the sense that it attempts to reignite some of the creative spark that has been missing from his work for some time now. Opener ‘Hey Cruel World’  is full of raging, punky energy – the best album opener he’s had since ‘Great Big White World’, and thus we’re off to a great start. ‘No Reflection’ is a decent first single in the mould of many of his singles – a catchy, stomping number with a simple, repetitive beat that actually manages to become quite an earworm on repeated listens. The best thing about Born Villain perhaps is that Manson has finally seen fit to discard all that cringeworthy crying about his love life and go back to the sort of obtuse lyrical themes of old. There isn’t much in the way of the wry social commentary of times gone by, no ‘Get Your Gunn’ style slights on conservative hypocrisy, for example, yet on tracks such as ‘Overneath the Path of Misery’ he weaves some fairly decent gothic poetry and it works well. Manson’s vocal has far more bite to it than it has in years, less of the maudlin crooning and a bit more ferocious, and on ‘Murderers are Getting Prettier Everyday’ we’re granted the first properly heavy song from the band since Holy Wood’s ‘Burning Flag’ and it’s fantastic. Long time collaborator Chris Vrenna deserves some credit for the overarching ‘classic’ Manson sound to be found throughout this album, with an Antichrist Superstar-esque approach to the drumming and tasteful flourishes of synths throughout that eschew cheesiness for a kind of simmering, detached atmosphere, the kind of thing we would have expected from the band in their heyday.

In these somewhat nihilistic times we live in, it’s easy to laugh at the hammy ‘evil’ image that Marilyn Manson stills clings to long after he was ever considered such by anyone else. Yet he was still an important musical figure in 90s rock music, perhaps one of the last rock n roll villains to have ever had concerned parents burning the records of. The incredibly banal world of modern popular rock music is sorely missing figureheads for teenagers to piss off their parents with these days, so it’s certainly heartening to find there’s life in him yet. Born Villain doesn’t come as close to past glories as the band would like, and there’s a mid-album sag in quality with the by-numbers post-punk of ‘The Flowers of Evil’ and meandering ‘Twist of Cain’, but thankfully the majority of the songs contained herein are worthy of his past repertoire. Mercifully, there is nothing on this album that will make you cringe the way ‘Heart Shaped Glasses’ did, and Born Villain sits just below Holy Wood in the list of Marilyn Manson albums you’d recommend to a friend (after Antichrist Superstar, Mechanical Animals and Portrait of an American Family of course).

3.5/5

Ministry – Relapse (1.5/5)

In an interview I read with Ministry mainman Al Jourgensen just prior to their split a few years back, he acknowledged that his creative well had run dry with Ministry, that it was time to let go of it, and that someone should kick his ass if he dares reform the band down the line. Well, I hope some brave soldier is willing to step forward and hunt him down, because Jourgensen has done the unthinkable and reformed Ministry. Now, live dates would be just about acceptable, but with Relapse, Jourgensen has managed to completely piss all over the legacy of one of the coolest bands to have ever existed.

Although the metallized trio of Houses of the Mole, Rio Grande Blood and The Last Sucker weren’t up to past greats, the former two at least had focused songwriting and fantastic riffs aplenty thanks to Prong‘s Tommy Victor. Jourgensen was also channelling his fanatical hatred of Dubya back then, which made for some pretty biting lyrical soundbites. Not so on Relapse. Ironically, without as obvious a villain as Bush for Al to rant about would appear to have had the effect of completely flattening his mojo. Oh, and there’s also a populist and highly irritating sop to the Occupy Wall Street crowd too in the form of lead single ’99 Percenters’. Ministry are back in full on thrash metal mode  too, with virtually no trace of them having ever been an ‘industrial’ band here.

The worst aspect of Relapse, though, is the absolute the lack of a single memorable moment throughout. Jurgensen’s vocals sound completely phoned in, and Victor sounds like he’s withholding his best riffs for the next Prong album at this point (who could blame him?). It’s strange to think of a Ministry album as boring – this is the band that wrote ‘Just One Fix’ for fuck sake – but that’s exactly what Relapse is. Tired, boring and utterly pointless. Oh, and that artwork completely matches the album’s contents by being the worst thing they’ve ever released.

1.5/5

Anathema – Weather Systems (4.5/5)

A lot has been made in the metal community of the continuing ‘softening’ of Anathema‘s sound; A Fine Day to Exit saw the Liverpool group fully adopt a progressive tinged alternative rock sound that they’ve spent the past decade subsequently refining. Another common complaint about ‘modern’ Anathema is that they are no longer doom, more so in tone than musically; that, as time has crept on, their music has becoming too uplifting rather than the depressively cathartic slabs of weight that made their name.

Such complaints highlight a tendency towards shallow black and white thinking from some quarters of the metal world – Anathema in 2012 are anything but ‘uplifting’, in the saccharine, everything is so wonderful sense of the word. Weather Systems exhibits an entire palette of emotions and atmospheres, and whether it’s a nervous tension on ‘Gathering of the Clouds’, resigned desperation on ‘Untouchable, Part 1′, Anathema rarely make it so simple as ‘happy’ or ‘sad’. Witness the incredible crescendo on ‘The Lost Child’ for example, a song whose trajectory appears to be moving in typical Anathema fare, all coloured in despondency and hopelessness as Danny Cavanagh’s protagonist proclaims My heart is breaking now/my life is fading now. Masterfully, however, the band gradually introduce shades of light into the song, before a symphonic cacophony introduces his redemption with cries of your hand reaches down/reach down and pulls me up/save me/save me…

Moments such as this are what make Weather Systems such a special record – moments which the band achieved on We’re Here Because We’re Here too (the desperate plea for help from deceased loved ones on ‘Angels Walk Among Us’ for example). On initial listens it may appear to float by somewhat, with much of the material possessing a somewhat otherworldly, dreamlike quality, but like all good records it requires a certain input from the listener before it will fully reveal itself – perhaps fittingly the vulnerability of its creators cannot be handed over lightly. A masterful album which cements another creative peak for this band.

4.5/5

 

 

Sigh – In Somniphobia (4.5/5)

Blackened-symphonic-psych-prog. That’s probably the best stab I can make at a pointless genre pigeonhole for these long-running Japanese weirdos. In Somniphobia is in fact the 9th album now populated by long-term band leader Mirai and co-led on vocals and saxophone (!) by his real-life significant other Dr. Mikannibal. Sigh are one of those bands that make it almost impossible for a reviewer to in any way put into words how their musc sounds, as the band to throw so many elements together that the whole thing is like a whirlwind of absolute insanity. For anyone familiar with the band however, In Somniphobia has less of the ‘epic marching band’ feel of Scenes from Hell, and is more batshit, and also better to boot. In fat, this might be the best thing they’ve done.

‘The Transfiguration Fear’ might be a good place to start here – the recurring theme is a sort of thrashed-up Morricone spaghetti western motif, but it’s punctuated half way through by a 70s keyboard solo. Then an 80s saxophone solo. Then a ripping guitar solo. Then hand claps. This sounds like a recipe for disaster, of course, but somehow Sigh make this insanity cohesive and work incredibly well. The seven part ‘Lucid Nightmares’ suite takes up the bulk of the album, each track nightmarish in its own way, be it ‘Somniphobia’s electronic elements punctured by middle eastern horns, or the bizarre ‘carnival of hell’ vibe from ‘ L’Excommunication A Minuit’. ‘Amnesia’ meanwhile is like a hellish, sleazy big band swing number, all bluesy, loose and weird. Sigh are like Satan’s answer to Mr. Bungle, and that is a recommendation. This monstrous bastard is probably the highlight of 2012 thus far.

4.5/5

Therapy? – A Brief Crack of Light (3/5)

It seems that every time Therapy? release an album, some reviewer or other proclaims it to be ‘the best thing they’ve ever done’. This is of course complete nonsense. Therapy? peaked with the trio of Babyteeth, Nurse and Troublegum, the latter of which I maintain is the best Irish rock album ever released (not a very popular opinion it must be said, but fuck you), and after that slid into an unfortunate spiral of commercial obscurity and creative misfires. For every ‘what on earth were they thinking?’ moment (see Semi-Detached) though they always threaten to redeem themselves with glimpses of their past greatness. A Brief Crack of Light falls into this category, being one of their better offerings this decade.

The duo of ‘Living in the Shadow of a Terrible Thing’ and ‘Plague Bell’ open the album in fine style, both classic Therapy? hard rockers with catchy choruses and Andy Cairns’ signature snarled vocals all over them (although they really miss that spiteful vibe from the Nurse days). ‘Marlow’ is the first misstep on the album – a misguided and off-putting upbeat post-rock instrumental that is completely off-kilter with the overall vibe of most of the other material within. ‘The Buzzing’ gets things back on track though, all messy and heavy, whilst ‘Ghost Trio’ is potentially the album’s highlight; a great slice of post-punky alternative rock. ‘Get Your Dead Hand Off My Shoulder’ is a slightly cheesy but fun affair, but one that also exposes the wear and tear on Cairns’ vocals unfortunately, whilst ‘Stark Raving Sane’ meanwhile contains a lumbering riff that sounds like something Korn would have pulled out of the bag 15 years ago.

So, as you can imagine, A Brief Crack of Light is a varied but disjointed affair, full of the band’s most recent influences. Therapy? are clearly happy to do whatever the hell they want at this point, which is commendable, and A Brief Crack of Light at least exercises some semblance of quality control amidst some of the more questionable song choices. They’ll never be the vital, energetic and relevant voice of Irish rock they briefly were in the early 90s, nor will they ever write a song as good as ‘Screamager’ again, but it’s great to see them still a creative force so late in their careers.

3/5

Dodecahedron – Dodecahedron (4/5)

Now here’s something worth getting your black metal hat on for; Dodecahedron, a Netherlands-based avant-garde black metal outfit, have come out of nowhere with this slice of greatness. Following in the current en vogue underground penchant for atonal, weird black metal with an emphasis on being twisted rather than pure bludgeon, this fantastic debut fuses the nightmarish world of Deathspell Omega and Blut Aus Nord, Dodheimsgard when they were dabbling in electronics, and The Axis of Perdition‘s forays into dark ambience.

Opener ‘Allfather’ bursts forth with the kind of violent but weird black metal rage you’d expect from a band clearly as influenced by Deathspell Omega as these guys are. A tweaked, unhinged vibe permeates the song, and the rumbling, ominous baseline that reiterates the opening riff throughout underpins this.  ’Vanitas’ offers the first glimpses of the band’s use of electronics, with vocalist M. Eikenaar’s seething voice drenched in a vocoder effect that thankfully adds to the menace in this case rather than sounding as cheesy as it so easily can. Further on, ‘Descending Jacob’s Ladder’ employs a dark ambience that is both well exectuted and terrifying. Dodecahedron is certainly a varied affair, and it is difficult to digest in one sitting. Some of the tracks can meander and morph at will, and this most certainly isn’t the kind of thing you’re likely to throw on at parties. Perseverence reveals an intensely satisfying, ultra modern black metal experience however that is in fact superior to Deathspell Omega‘s last offering Paraceletus. Dodecahedron are a welcome addition to the avant-garde black metal legions.

4/5

Les Discrets – Ariettes Oubliées.. (3/5)

The whole ‘shoegaze black metal’ thing that’s been doing the rounds these past has been met with varying degrees of success, but possibly the best thing to have come out of it was Les Discrets’ magnificent debut,  Septembre et Ses Dernières Pensées. Said album fused elements of shoegaze, post-rock, early Katatonia and even The Cure to what has to be one of the finest ‘rainy day’ albums in recent memory.

Ariettes Oubliées… has fairly lofty shoes to fill, then, and it doesn’t quite fill them as tightly as was hoped. The album follows a similar trajectory to its predecessor, and is clearly lovingly crafted, but it fails to evoke the consistently morose atmosphere of Septembre et Ses Dernières Pensées. Cuts like ‘La Nuit Muerte’ are played in a more upbeat, rockish fashion than anything on Septembre…, and in a sense the band is to be commended for trying to incorporate more variety into proceedings. However, at times this can undermine the impact of the album rather than enhance it. ‘La Traversee’ and ‘Le Monvement Perpetuel’ are both fantastic, however, and moments of beauty can be found throughout the album. Inevitably, Ariettes Oubliées... was always going to be compared with the band’s debut, and whilst a worthy sucessor, it cannot quite compete with the sheer atmospheric weight of that album.

3/5