review by: Ignacio Coluccio

Remember those acoustic Anathema songs, the beautifully crafted ones with female vocals? Planetary Confinement follows that line, expands it, and turns it into a masterpiece. No, it isn't 100% an Eternity / Judgement copy, but those two records sure play an important role in Antimatter’s sound.

Planetary Confinement shows a clear evolution. In previous albums there was a heavy usage of trip-hop elements, but that could somehow detract the attention from where it should be. In this one, there are no electronic beats to be found, keyboards scarcely, and no distorted guitars. Don't expect headbangable parts, heavy riffs or energy in the nine songs featured in here because you won't be able to find them. And in this case, that's a good thing. Sure, you could say it's a conservative album, and it is, but it's also one big piece of emotion-filled music.

Most of the songs are completely directionless and sometimes motionless, but it's a good thing. The album's recording was done in two sessions consisting of entirely different line-ups. One side's music is done by Moss, the other one by Patterson. Moss' side has his own vocals and guitarplaying and it's, above all, pure melancholy. No happy bits but slow songs with an apocalyptic feeling. Of course, everything's absolutely melodic and perfectly done.

Patterson's side, however, is not as sad but instead similar to Anathema's latest album. It contains female vocals, a little more complex instrumentation and a far catchier sound. All the sweet songs are from this one, and they are in some ways more like the Antimatter everyone used to know.

However, both sessions blend perfectly and are indeed almost perfect. As a unity, they are coherent and, as different as they are, don't abruptly change the overall mood. It's surprising that Moss and Patterson have a lot of chemistry between them, even being able to make an album out of two. Apparently, that chemistry is over, as Duncan Patterson is leaving the band for other projects. Sad, but as they say, enjoy it while it lasts. Absolutely brilliant. (9.8/10)

review by: Ignacio Coluccio

In a short time, Swedish melodic death metal has made an important impact in the worldwide metal scene. As it's natural, the genre started to influence (or even be copied in) other parts of the world, in this case Belarus.

There's no doubt that Asguard are technically good. As opposed to the seemingly millions of simplistic melodic death metal bands, they've chosen to put a lot of neo-classical guitar work into their music. And while it certainly makes them stand out in songs like the intro, it just doesn't fit sometimes. The Gothenburg influences are there, the typical leads of the style are obvious. It's impossible not to notice the Yngwie Malmsteen influence: technical work based on a classical sound, and an overall guitar wankery feeling. Besides the solos, there aren't many things to detail; the album as a whole goes from "run of the mill" songs to decent, but nothing too spectacular. It doesn't get too far off your stereotypical band and that makes them completely unmemorable. Of course, unmemorable doesn't mean it's a horribly bad record, it's just bland.

Something that is a little bizarre is the fact that the bonus tracks are better than the actual album. A much more fitting production (even considering it has some errors) and a lot more melodic leads. The first bonus track is a kind of seven-minute epic and most probably if the album were more like that this wouldn't be a generic album at all. Potential? They have lots of potential. Talent? They do have talent, they just need to progress a little out of that sound everyone is tired of. This is exactly the same music you would expect from a Gothenburg band, and the same one you would listen to once and then forget about it.

Sadly, the structuring is too common, and the songs a little too stale. Add that to the sometimes weak vocals and a subpar production, and that makes Wikka a completely forgettable record. Fans of older In Flames or At the Gates will like it, the rest: don't bother. (4.1/10)

review by: Ignacio Coluccio

With every month that passes, it seems to be harder and harder to be original or to stand out on the melodic black and death scenes. Metal in general is overpopulated with these, which are horribly hard to recognize alone as bands, let alone their albums and songs. As bad as reviewing a band based on the general status of its surroundings would be, in this case this one follows all the clichés, point by point.

Simply put, Deadlock is a mid point between ...And Oceans' non-electronica parts, Anorexia Nervosa's neoclassical arrangements and older In Flames riffs. Do they make up the lack of originality with their music? To some really small degree, they do. Being basically a mix of other bands, it makes the listener think more of the bands they are copying / paying tribute than Deadlock itself. That isn't necessarily bad, but it won't turn the album into a top-choice for this year, an essential record or a good one. Everything you know about melodic black and death is here too: the keyboards, the innocent girl singing, the good production, the faster and melodic leads...

At first, Earth.Revolt seems more like a strong offering. The first two tracks are outstanding, and they're certainly promising. But, just when you were expecting more songs like those, this album hits you in the face like a brick. And not in a good way. The rest is bland, with some bursts of talent here and there. Good synth arrangements of "10,000 Generations of Blood" are nowhere to be found after it. Some random female vocals here and there are enjoyable and some riffs are good for headbanging, but nothing else really. It's as if all the effort was put in about eight minutes and then the leftovers were recorded against the band's own will. And damn inconsistency! Earth.Revolt has way too many abrupt mood changes and unfitting style changes to be considered remotely fluent. Far from being avant-garde or progressive, it just gets annoying.

I repeat, not everything is bad here, but you wouldn't want to spend your precious, hard earned or not, money for two songs, would you? (3/10)

review by: Pal Meentzen

You might want to throw on this eight track Horna CD when peeling potatoes while having a slight beer buzz. Imagine how Corvus' monotonous screaming was like the knife removing all sense of texture, colour and irregularities, eventually leaving a surface of pure monochromatic white hatred and rawness. Not that there's much metal to be found in potatoes (and hopefully never) but I couldn't help myself to stop thinking about them. (Potatoes have lots of iron – ed)

Envaatnags Eflos Solf Esgantaavne’s production is also very "meat and potatoes," albeit rotten, allowing Horna to let you hear all that is relevant, and no more than that. This is good, as this means that they actually care for bass, a musical duty often thrown overboard in black metal. Here together with two layers of corroded guitar, the four stringed bottom feeder forms a solid foundation for a small monument of possession.

The production is a raw and simple, without becoming too low-fi, apparently a passed station for Horna, who have been around since 1993.

Although the constantly level screaming of Corvus is harsh and uncompromising, the music offers more than a familiar avalanche of blastbeats. Is life really bad when you can bang your head when peeling potatoes while listening to "Sastaainen Kaste"? A dramatic sense of melody is carried without undermining the tension displayed by Corvus (who joined Horna in 2002).

The lyrics are in Finnish, but no one will doubt that when hearing him it's more likely to be about a monster mash than a potato mash. His throat is sore with evil. This is foul, vile and fine. (8/10)

review by: Pal Meentzen

From Greece comes a piece of epic metal with a keen sense of mythology and history. Various landscapes pass us by in shades of grey, echoing glorious times long gone. Greek metalheads may be pleased that the five tracks on this album include an "Ode to Rhode" and two parts of "an Ode to Hellas." In all, The Ancient One Returns is a short concept album of 38+ minutes that allegedly has taken more than 10 years to be completed.

The Ancient One Returns is instrumental in nature with a little room for some narrative verse screaming that tells us about "victory through inner strength" and the "condemnation of a life of eternal oblivion." The question is whether this creation can convince us of either statement. Has "inner strength" brought them an inspiring album that stands tall, or does it remain obscured into foggy clouds and will it eventually get washed away by those shades of grey? In this case The Ancient One returns into...oblivion.

Why? The fact that five songs are centered around practically the same musical key may suggest cohesion, but it makes for a damn dull listen as well! Sometimes a lack of variation may be intentional in order to create a hypnotic, trance inducing atmosphere. But no, here Icarus just melts his wings and comes crashing down. The production and musicianship are certainly good, and the dragging tempo is sometimes supported by a sparse momentary benefit of adrenalin pumpin' speed. But it simply can't persuade into either headbanging or listening mode.

And on a side note: the occasional high pitched hysterical screaming brings to mind the old work of Macabre, known for their incredibly funny, be it entirely different murder metal. Doubtlessly there was no intent on humour here.

The lyrics are hardly imaginative and so short that one may wonder what purpose the presence of the vocals can explain anyway. The fact that the gold lettering in the booklet not only presents us the titles but also solemnly the year in which they were written (1998 - 2001) raises questions to the 10+ year period in which this would-be magnum opus has taken shape. It should be impressive, I guess, but it’s more annoying than convincing. (4/10)

review by: Roberto Martinelli

The first few tracks of Eulogy IV present some of the best black metal you’ll hear all year: unusual melodic elements and riffs make their way amongst more traditional black metal elements that are outstanding in their own right. The rasp and powerful vocals are thoroughly satisfying, the inclusion of guitar solos do nothing but propel the music’s interest, and the production marries the raw with the coherent. But perhaps the biggest success is how much the songs rock as well as chill. Black metal framework to be sure, but the music is arranged in a fashion that makes them on a song level appealing with driving grooves and engaging riffs.

From there, it’s a gradual slope downhill in quality, and suddenly you notice that Eulogy IV is a bit of a "this ‘n’ that" album. The tracks after #5 don’t have the same freshness of content or presentation. Alright, it’s still okaaay, but... Indeed, the songs seem to have been taken from three or so very different sessions, with the album being rounded out by a not terribly good sounding live track. Closer inspection shows that the blander tracks are all covers (of Earth, Burzum and Von). It would have been much more worthwhile had the album been a full-length of original material recorded during the same time period with perhaps some bonus stuff at the end, as it would have made for a far more satisfying experience than half proper album and half bonus material. Should Nachmystium create this opus, it would stand as a remarkable accomplishment not only in today’s increasingly pointless black metal scene, but indeed in the genre’s entire history. As it is, Eulogy IV is an incredible album dragged down by songs from the grab bag. Regardless, its plusses are strong enough that black metal fans would still do well to get it. (7/10)

review by: Ignacio Coluccio

Thrones is one of those bands that takes all you know about music and throws it away. After hearing Day Late, Dollar Short (or any Thrones release, for that matter) you won't know what you know anymore. In fact, you won't know what you just heard. Terribly confusion-inducing, scary and even fun are earthly ways of describing it, but descriptions most of the time prove themselves futile; this is an experience. Maybe it would help the listener to know that Thrones' mastermind worked with Earth and Sunn O))). Maybe it would help it, too, to know that Stephen O’ Malley designed the cover and artwork in general (which is amazing, by the way), but labeling this as similar to O’ Malley's, Earth's or Sunn's work would be wrong. Actually, labeling it anything would be wrong.

Thrones is a genre apart from everything you've heard. It's got midi keyboard parts, but sludge ones as well, Noise-rock, hardcore, drone... Even the production is distinctive itself: bass-heavy and dirty. The guitars are downtuned and lean towards sludge most of the time; the drum machine is perfectly done, and the vocals are different in every track. The raw feeling is even in the instruments themselves: they are simply played, relying more on plain weirdness in the instruments choice and the vocals. But don't let the simplicity make you think this record is immature – you'll quickly realize it isn't.

"This is an incomplete collection of smaller projects," the liner notes say, and that adds a lot to the oddness factor. Nineteen tracks, all fresh concepts (even the covers are craftily and originally done), all equally memorable. All of them are from different sessions; little bits of this, some of that, but all outstanding. The inclusion of Rush, The Who, Ultravox and Blue Oyster Cult covers is, if anything, one of the most original choices ever made. The cover of Rush's "Oracle" (from 2112) is almost unrecognizable except for die-hard fans of the band.

If you liked Thrones’ other releases, you're gonna dig this one too. The added craziness makes up for the lack of a common concept; instead of wondering how it'll continue, you'll wonder what will the next track be: A piano piece? A midi piece? A classic rock cover? Thrones' distinctive and personal style is still here, but in lots of small doses of genius.

Just when I was thinking that all new releases were copycats of greater acts, here comes Day Late, Dollar Short to prove me wrong. "Highly recommended" isn't enough if you like avant-garde music. (9.5/10)

review by: Ignacio Coluccio

If you're religious, go pray to your favorite deity, because the Whore guys are back and this time with another impressive record. If the round after round of misogynistic death / grind in Unfinished Business wasn't enough for your dirty and corrupted mind, here you have... yes, you guessed it, more. The fact that they have Engorged and Fornicator members in their line-up should be enough for you to know what to expect, and having a Lord Gore member collaborating should just set the deal. Before you say anything, yes, it's Unfinished Business version 2.0.

This time everything is less groovy and closer to the blast-beat based modern brutal death, which is much more fitting for Whore. As opposed to many bands, this drum usage doesn't make them lose coherency or structure. The samples are still there (most of them are hilarious) in a kind of porno / sadistic version of Mortician, as are of course the sick aesthetics.

Thankfully, all the comedy approach comes together with killer (and audible!) riffs, amazing drumming and brutal vocals in the vein of newer Mucupurulent. The death influences are visible in the overall maturity and actual direction and structure of their music. The grind part, besides the imagery, is obvious in the singer and in the faster parts, but it's not as prominent as its death counterpart.

Two moments need to be noticed. The first is "Shocker," some kind of parody to old heavy metal bands with some vocals B la Rob Halford, that's really surprising to hear for the first time. The second is the last track, "Pieces of Her in My Shit": after 1 minute and 40 seconds of music normal to the band, a clean guitar enters, and then some samples, random sounds and finally some low undefinable noises, all this making up eight minutes of a sort of noise piece.

I won't say this isn't monotonous sometimes because it is, and maybe it's not full of replay value. As it's usual (and grind artists shouldn't expect otherwise) the samples can get tedious after you already know them, but really, all expectancies are met and Doing It for the Kids is an outstanding album.

Twenty-two songs of the face-smashing death / grind you know and love. If brutality's your thing but you want a well-thought album and not just 15-second songs, you're gonna absolutely adore this. Well, except "Shocker," you'll laugh at that one; but that's still good, isn't it? (8/10)

review by: Ignacio Coluccio

Something HAS to be going on in the Czech Republic that we don't know about. Magically, every band that comes out of that country is, at least, good. And Smashed Face is in the upper tier of that pool.

As it's logical, you have the low vocals (and in this case, they’re REALLY low) characteristic of the genre, in this case mixed with some higher pitched growls, too. The riffs and overall sound are your typical brutal death ones, and it works. Thankfully, it's not a blastbeat fest for 30 minutes, even if they are used in good doses. There are grooves, slow parts, interludes, everything not to make this a monotonous album. It even has a (really good) interlude track that divides the album in two parts. The lyrical content and atmosphere altogether get a little goofy sometimes (a song about Viagra?) but you won't understand it in the mass of growls anyway.

So, without much complexity, it's overly enjoyable in-your-face metal. The production is good, everything is audible but it's rough enough to give the music the punch you like and need. Maybe it isn't as memorable as some other bands of the genre because it lacks a distinctive quality (like for example Brodequin and its drumming) but something that has to be said is that this delivers brutality all around. Don't get me wrong, though, the genre isn't about originality. At what they want to make, they are completely successful.

Indeed, this won't make a sudden change in your musical collection, but it's enough to satisfy your daily /weekly /monthly needs of mindless growling and guitar-smashing. Making distinguishable tracks with deep instrumental passages? Being avant-garde? Who cares! It's brutal, that's what counts.

There are some moments, however, that will make your jaw drop and your eyes pop out, namely the beginning of "End of Gaia" and the whole "Body Count Bhopal Massacre" because of the vocals. But you'll be concentrating much more in the experience itself, and not the individual songs and riffs.

The full lineup displays a good work, no visible errors, no bad choices, no genre-blending. So, even with the obvious "low pretentiousness" in Human: Earth Parasite, they've succeeded in creating a sometimes brilliant opus.

As if the content wasn't enough (which it is, really), the CD includes older material in mp3, which is always a superb addition. And if you weren't happy with that, it comes with even more multimedia content! Live, session and rehearsal pics and a video. Speaking of which, most probably I'd be laughing at it right now if I understood Czech. Get it, you'll enjoy it. (8/10)

review by: Ignacio Coluccio

Many bands have broken into the mainstream in a big part thanks to their intellectual lyrics. I'm not questioning those bands' quality, but sometimes it gets a little tiring, especially when they start exchanging their musicianship for an "avant-garde" status (the latest Mars Volta comes to mind). End of Level Boss is, without a doubt, another "intellectual" band, but (and it's a big "but") they show originality and a good work ethic instead of pretentiousness and lyrics out of a quantum physics book.

There's clearly a different way of approaching metal, so much that bumping it into that genre wouldn't be accurate. End of Level Boss’ early Tool influence is quite big (especially noticeable in the vocals), as are the 70s prog rock and the stoner ones. Many early grunge details can be heard, but to a lesser degree.

Mix them, and the result is a trippy unity, with a variety of sounds and textures. There aren't many heavy parts, as the album bases itself on long instrumental passages and repetition in big quantities.

The connection between the band members is pretty much obvious, and it's big enough to make them all complement each other. All this leads to, for example, the drummer playing a melody of sorts or the guitarist setting the rhythm. That change of roles is what makes the album alternate between an organic and sometimes mechanic feeling.

Another high point is the inclusion of multiple jazz interludes and guitar parts, like the one in "Noisepicker," giving it a calm edge as well. Other highlights include the hypnotic "Hedonophobia" and the longer "Disjointhead," but all the album is equally memorable. Songs vary in length as much as they do in sound, but most of them are about 4:30 minutes long.

Prologue is one big compendium of good ideas, but not concise enough in some parts. Every segment is enjoyable to the max, but they seem to be lacking a general direction. For a debut, that's to be expected, and it's not a big problem when you see so much talent, but it hurts the album's quality.

Not too short, not too long, not too straight-forward but not too dopey. Not groundbreaking but personal enough to stand on its own. In the end, a really interesting album. (8/10)

review by: Roberto Martinelli

As much as Yngwie Malmsteen’s personal qualities seem to be universally reviled, you do have to give him credit for his sense of humor. Unleash the Fury is taken from the infamous sound clip from many years ago in which Malmsteen, in first class on an airplane at the height of his glam rock stardom, screams at some poor woman in some ersatz ghetto white trash English how she has unleashed the fury.

Yes, Malmsteen is putting some work into his titles. And Holy Moses, the man is probably still second to none in terms of soloing. Now, if he put as much work into his songs as he did into his solos, we’d have one of the best metal albums of the year.

We can’t figure Malmsteen out. He’s one of the best guitarists in the world, and we’d think that someone who goes over the top in showing off technical soloing would also be playing technical rhythm guitar. But no. Unleash the Fury, as has been the case for Malmsteen records for years now, is made up of simple tunes and riffs that are sandwiched around gigantor solos. The result is gaudy and tacky, with neither fitting in very well with the other. It’s no mystery, then, that the best tracks on Unleash the Fury are the instrumental ones like "Magic and Mayhem," where the intent and execution are consistent all the way through. Makes you kind of wish Yngwie would just release an album of solos and skip all the rest of the filler (read: songs). How about another orchestral collaboration?

What’s more, the rhythm guitar sound is strangely thin, with the bass guitar being rather dominant, which would be fine if it (also played by Malmsteen) were playing anything other than the most simple progressions. But come the solos, and the guitar is right where it needs to be in an album that’s all about 6-stringed ego.

Unleash the Fury isn’t failing for lack of good musicians, though. Dougie White is an incredible vocal talent, no matter how much he might ham it up on this record. Not that Yngwie has ever surrounded himself with any musician that wasn’t the best; but you have to wonder: with the best drummers in the land at your disposal, wouldn’t you want the guy to do more than just the basic heavy/power metal beats?

Did we say "filler"? Unleash the Fury has 18 tracks. About half of that is stuff you could live without, with "Cherokee Warrior" coming first to mind. (Sample: "Cherokee warrior: you lost the battle (that’s for sure), but what you left behind – let me tell you – it still shines").

Did we say Yngwie is second to none in soloing? Well, you could say that. Technically? Absolutely. His style has spawned thousands and will spawn thousands more. But in terms of taste, vocabulary and phrasing? It’s style over substance, sounding like the same solos over and over again.

Finally, Unleash the Fury’s greatest asset is that it IS clearly an Yngwie Malmsteen record, which means it’s good fun and enjoyment for at *least* a few songs. Magnify that if you’ve got nostalgia on your side. However, this particular record is largely rehash, with no innovativeness. As of 2005, Yngwie Malmsteen, the band, finds itself looking up at all the kids that grew up on him; the same kids who then went to form bands that progressed the genre while the originator didn’t, who in fact became more bland. But as long as there are people who remember the origins, the Yngwie legend seems to be able to withstand an eternity of musical incongruity and "woodly, woodly, woo" into infinity. (6.6/10)

PS: We were bitterly disappointed that Malmsteen’s apparent newfound humility ran out when track #17, "Unleash the Fury," turned out to be a lame filler song and NOT the clip of his mile-high ballistic tirade.

review by: Ignacio Coluccio

Normally, expectations play a big factor in how much you really enjoy an album. If a band that has played for years and years, always releasing good stuff, happens to have a bad day and records something mediocre, you feel it. If a horrible band makes a mediocre record, you appreciate it. And then, there are cases where you don't know what to expect and, well, you're just left with confusion. Yellow cover... Japanese writing... a motorcycle... huh?

It takes quite a while to get used to the sound of the first full-length by Suzukiton, and it takes even more to realize what's going on, but after you do, you know Service Repair Handbook is nothing too fancy. Instrumental metal, sometimes similar to The Fucking Champs (although much less dissonant) and math rock, sometimes groovy, sometimes plain weird. So, no Japanese stuff, nothing motorcycle-related, but still a whole lot of fun.

Going as far as calling it the standard metal version of Pelican might seem preposterous, but it does resemble that sometimes. However, as opposed to the abovementioned band, Suzukiton would do much better having something over their rhythms and leads, or at least some of those virtuoso-guitar solos that always fit in on instrumentals. But even while empty in some aspects, it's a good album to play real loud to show someone what metal is.

Structurally, Service Repair Handbook is mostly made up of short songs (13 songs in 32 minutes) with plenty of riffage and good drum work. If Suzukiton went for more complex material (and I'm sure they will), they could already be a well-established band. The songs end earlier than you want them to, and the good parts are too short, but you can still get a lot out of it.

While this probably won't be a classic, or a reference for future generations, it doesn't bore, and before you know it, it's over and you want to play it again. Good, good; there are some things to fix but the basic motor runs. (7.2/10)

review by: Rick Luna

The idea of terror having a thousand faces sounds a bit cliché, but it doesn’t conflict with this album’s general shittiness. Indeed, nothing on this album is enjoyable.

Think of it as simple household ingredients into one giant boiling pot, but not mixed properly. Adramelech are kings of dull death metal with the most basic and ugliest of death metal riffs. Yes, it’s simply composed of idiot-proof, one note riffage and some tremolo picking thrown in like parsley. The plummeting double bass is pretty much standard but diminished by the god awful, fuzzy production.

Vocals are the standard hargle fargle in the death metal scene these days. Imagine growling yourself into oblivion. Meanwhile, Adramalech incorporates a zero tolerance policy in the catchiness department. Clean up on aisle five. (1/10)

review by: Rick Luna

Blind Myself may seem like an everyday band, but there’s more than meets the eye besides its name. Their debut, Worst Case Scenario, is a great introduction to a semi original style that these Hungarians play.

Worst Case Scenario tries to shy away from its hardcore roots by adding technical bits and pieces here and there, which is always a nice warm welcome to such a stagnant genre. It’s sugar coated with some odd time signatures as well as some nicely stylized breaks from all the chaos.

A thing that may be bothersome is the fact that it takes itself a little bit too seriously into the concept. The mellow parts of some songs have dull (more of a style) singing parts that are reminiscent of Frantic Bleep. On the good side, the album is catchy with some nice melodies within the guitar riffs, especially with the title track. The fluid motion drum style is in sync with the guitars parts. The bass really does a good job trying to be productive with the guitar lines. The rest of the other tracks get a little tedious and dry off like aged beef jerky, thus affecting the replay value.

Worst Case Scenario is interesting for what it’s worth, even when it doesn’t have much of a lasting flavor. Blind Myself are trying their best to distinguish themselves from the scene, but a lot still needs to be fixed. (6/10)

review by: Rick Luna

Doctor Butcher is back in full force with the reissue of the 1994 self-titled cult classic. This is one enjoyable record created by the twisted minds of Savatage’s Jon Oliva, Trans Siberian Orchestra’s Chris Caffery and crew.

Doctor Butcher is tastefully done in the most traditional metal manner. It definitely soars above the rest. Think of it as a great collaboration that’s purely heavy metal in nature. It’s a clash of titans with influences from both Savatage and T.S.O. The album starts off bold with "The Altar," and hardly ever falls from the tightrope. "Reach Out and Torment Someone" is the only thrasher on this album. There’s also hard hitting cuts such as "The Chair" and "I Hate, You Hate, We All Hate!!!"

As the album progresses with the latter part of the songs, it tends to drag a bit, being more of the same. That’s where Doctor Butcher suffers, unfortunately. With that said, "Juice" is the only real filler track on this album.

Overall, Jon Oliva’s singing is on cue and well used – there’s no doubt about that. Chris Caffery’s guitar skills are definitely at play here. Expect nothing but solid tunes accompanied with wailing solos and some hot licks. The lyrics are cheesy and laughable, but you can just shrug it off and play along with it.

The songs are primitive so there’s no need to expect anything new or groundbreaking... just good old fun. It’s hard to believe that this was released over a decade ago with the wonderful remastering job. Dig this! (7/10)

review by: Rick Luna

If grindcore ever was this creative then Ebolie would be the world’s perfect grind band. Hold your horses there, partner; let’s not jump into conclusions just yet.

Elevation into Disintegration is filled with talent and comedic value. It fuses multiple styles together for one big meal. There are groovy riffs accompanied with a funky fresh attitude on "Human Error." "Foetal Grindings" begins as a jazz-like tune but surprises you with its hardcore sound and breaks down in a short techno piece. Even lyrically, much is touched upon in this album. It spans from the fashioncore scene, to the straight edge crew, emo queers, and humanity in itself.

"Queens of the Scene Edge" starts off in falsetto style and mimics itself as a melodic metalcore tune that grinds itself silly. "Queer Eye for the Metrosexual" is the world’s funniest grind song ever. Think Nunwhore Commando and the Bezerker at the Special Olympics on that particular tune. The album is original in its own at times, but the other parts are nothing to boast about. One listen and that’s it.

What terribly disappoints is the album is only 20 minutes long. The production also needs to be upped a notch. Look into Ebolie only after you’ve gotten the new Rotten Sound and Leng T’che. (6/10)

review by: Rick Luna

Killing Spree is a good example of a band having the balls to bring back the true American spirit of heavy metal with a thrash like appeal. They aren’t the only ones, though. With thrash’s origins being so distant from present day, many of the newer bands bastardize the original tried and true flavor. This however is not the case with Killing Spree’s debut, Deception Betrayal Revenge.

Deception Betrayal Revenge isn’t exactly super solid material, but it rocks and the formula works just fine. The band does know a thing or two about writing a decent song. They try not to mimic their Bay Area peers, but at least they respect them. Some songs are also inspired by the New York thrash scene with such bands as Anthrax and Nuclear Assault.

With this being said, it is far from being completely original. No worries, though; its aggressive thrash like antics will rev any connoisseur. That’s the real turn on here. It has everything from groove to even a great hard rock vibe in some songs. The vocals on this album, provided by Eric Hansen, are as true to its origins as you can get. There’s a bit of range for everyone: singing, screams and background gang yells (no growls, thankfully). The guitars on this album, done by James Murray, are devilishly done to near greatness. The solos are a little on the iffy side. The guitars mingle with the drums at an effective rate, but some parts just don’t click. "Power of Hate" uses guitar effects that ruin the entire song. "Devilution and Disgrace" are fantastic tracks that will surely please anyone into speedy and balls-out thrash.

The album is average when it comes to production, but that’s not a big concern. Much respect to Killing Spree for creating this record, but things can be a little better. Polishing wouldn’t hurt anybody. Let’s hope their next album is at least as good as this. (6.5/10)

editor's note: This is not the same Killing Spree we reviewed on Morbid Records.

review by: Rick Luna

Masacre are generic at best with cookie monster vocals, uninspiring riffs, and worthless blasting. Their ideas are as plain as drywall.

Total Death blows on a level entirely its own. The guitar parts are elementary and predictable throughout. Meanwhile, the drumming is your all-around mindless double bass blasting and that’s all there is; absolutely nothing remarkable. The vocals are standard and lifeless, almost Corpsegrinder-esqe to a certain extent but an octave lower. The only thing that stands out from this album is the solos, even though they aren’t anything to wow at. Going back to listening to whatever you have been is far more worthwhile than buying this album. (1/10)

review by: Ignacio Coluccio

If we had to rate albums based on effort, Mistweaver’s Age of Darkness would get a higher one than what we’re giving it. It's rare to see so much energy... and it's rare as well to a result that doesn’t stand up to the output.

Mistweaver’s style is not defined at all, seeing as they shift from song to song, from harsh power metal, to (a little too forced) melodic black metal, to Godgory-style melodic death metal, and gothic as well. If you know those genres well, you know what you'll get here. However, this mix of genres isn't the one you could find in bands such as Mr. Bungle, Crotchduster or Devil Doll, but instead one you'd get out of randomly cutting and pasting other band's works.

The synths are everywhere, but besides the theatrical moments, they rarely play anything interesting. The guitarwork is top notch and gets your attention really often. But really, besides that, there's nothing even remotely groundbreaking. Same things you've heard thousands of times in your life by greater acts, concentrated in one. Even if the riffs are coherent, the great amount of abrupt changes from song to song make it quite difficult to get used to.

The first two or three tracks are good pieces, but then it gets tedious, and the album can be predicted in its entirety... a case of "we used all our good parts in the first few songs, then ran out of them."

Probably the word to define Age of Darkness is "overloaded." It has too much detail to be enjoyable, and it has everything you might want... in exaggerated quantities. This means, that the Age of Darkness is just too wide to be completely enjoyable, and it's too hard to actually concentrate on it. The production accentuates the synths and leaves the rest behind it, and it's hard to make up what's going on back there even if the quality itself isn't bad.

But it's not all that bad. The guitarist knows how to write riffs, and the vocal arrangements are good for the first songs, but the plethora of errors and bad choices just drowns everything to a level that’s worse than average. (3.5/10)

review by: Rick Luna

About time that something this great has been released. Hazardous Mutation is the Earache debut from thrashcore underdogs Municipal Waste. It kicks ass in all the right places and never slows down for anyone, and I mean no one. The band combines all the greatness of D.R.I., Slayer and Anthrax into one bonafide instant classic. Put on your denim jackets, boys and girls; we’re in for a treat back into the 80’s in pure Waste fashion.

Hazardous Mutation is a 26-minute moshing marathon. Why bother with music theory and originality when you can just raise your fist in the air in total worship? However, it doesn’t necessarily mean that having no originality is bad. It’s how fresh it is, and that’s what counts. The album keeps its focus on maintaining the absolute pride and raw emotion of punk and it’s sweetened with hardcore and thrash. It hardly ever lets you go. The guitars are scorching hot, nostalgic, and solid. Even the solos on this album are damned exciting and wailing like the mouths of babes.

The up-tempo feel definitely brings an evil grin to your face. Also in the fold is the inclusion of ex-Discordance Axis and current Burt by the Sun drummer Dave Witte at his best hour. The production is flawless and clear enough to hear everything at perfect level. If only the album was a song or two longer, then we would be talking about a real masterpiece on our hands.

The release of Hazardous Mutation will get them the widespread attention and respect that these guys so desperately need. This is one astounding album. Also, kudos to the awesome cover art done by the famous Ed Repka (Megadeth, Three Inches of Blood, Massacre, Solstice, etc...). (8/10)

review by: Ignacio Coluccio

Ramesses. Formed by two ex-Electric Wizard members, you know that the talent of that band will be present here. Expect no less, because you won't be let down. Seems like they haven't got enough courage to put out a full length, yet all their recordings are, so far, no less than amazing.

Four new tracks including a ten-minute jam, and all, absolutely all, awesome. Don't be fooled by the small number of songs, the running time is above thirty minutes with no filler. The Electric Wizard feeling, the "dragging but not boring" one is here, but in a much more oppressed way. More sludge oriented and less jam, it's instead song based, with an actual chorus sometimes, and centered. The aggression is constant and even shown in the last, seemingly improvised, track. No complexity but instead in-your-face metal, the kind that will throw you out of your chair.

The Tomb possesses an incredibly constrictive, dark atmosphere driven by those evil sounding guitars so particular to Ramesses, trapping the listener for all of the album’s running length. Aesthetically, it's astounding but at the same time hard to get into. The cover art pretty much summarizes in a visual way what the album is.

'The sound, both production and instrument-wise, shows maturity. The vocals are some kind of blackened ones that, oddly enough, fit the music perfectly. Everything is carefully done, and with such mastery one just can't get bored of. Considering that the influence of the previous bands the members were in is noticeable to the naked eye, Ramesses has a well crafted, unique and original sound.

For sludge fans, and specially of the darker and morbid side of it, The Tomb is what you're seaching for, go for it. (9.4/10)

review by: Ignacio Coluccio

Saint Vitus was one of the first doom bands, and probably one of the protodoom bands with the biggest impact in the scene, mixing Black Sabbath's riffs with Motorhead's energy and slowing-down everything at least two times.

Back in 1990, one year after the release of the quintessential doom masterpiece V ,and just before the departure of Wino Weinrich from the band, Saint Vitus released one live album, simply titled Live. Featuring the most classic line-up of the band (Weinrich / Chandler / Adams / Acosta), it proved to be another one of the band's many as-perfect-as-it-gets discs. And now in 2005, in yet another impressive Southern Lord release, it was reissued for all of us who couldn't get it back then. Thank your favorite deity, you're gonna absolutely adore this.

This live recording from November 10th, 1989 just screams classic all around. Every one of the 11 tracks featured are perfectly played and the audience notices it. The production is perfect (even being 15 years old) and the reverb even gets scary sometimes. What you get is the raw and unadulterated Saint Vitus feeling that isn't found as strong in the studio recordings.

The passion shown in each member's performance, and especially the vocalist's, is remarkable. Of course, you have the typical "you're the best" shouts to the audience, and the whole crowd-provoking, but not exaggerated to the point of annoying the listener. Again, everything is much more furious than on the original records. Without a doubt, Saint Vitus were much better live than in the studio. While on the full-lengths each member seemed to be far from the others, live they play as a whole, and that's easily perceived.

The track-list is about the best they could have made, including almost all the classics. Live features "fast" songs like "Dying Backwards" and "White Stallions," and doomy ones like "Look Behind You" and "Dying Inside" as well. The band's assault of both doom and NWOBHM/ punk-like songs is mesmerizing, even for someone who wasn't there. Also included in the last track are some improvisations by Chandler (mostly random guitar playing) and Acosta (awesome drum solo) to end one of the best live albums to date.

I wish I had been there. (Classic/10)

review by: Matt Smith

Pariah is the strongest black metal album in months. Naglfar's brand of melodic black metal is bristling with aggression, and evil-sounding riffs accompany equally foreboding vocals. Light synths and quiet melodies serve as atmosphere-builders, but the real substance is never far behind. These four guys have an exceptionally thick sound, which serves to make their brand of apocalyptic black metal all the more gratifying: Sure, you can make some demonic-sounding music with terrible production and mediocre guitar skills, but Naglfar lets you bathe in its technical execution and substantial production – really soak it in, until a sneer creeps onto your face and you start wondering what within reach you could kill with your bare hands.

The drums and guitars are continually changing from one fast-played melody to another, never allowing boredom to creep in, and the variety of techniques Naglfar employs is sure to impress. The lyrics are also understandable, which in this case is very rewarding. Kristoffer's gurgling yells spew into your ears and complement the music perfectly as violent imagery and harsh words begin to cloud your vision. There isn't a bad song on Pariah, and fans of quick-moving melodic black metal with a razor-sharp edge are sure to enjoy these Swedes' latest release. (8.5/10)

review by: Pal Meentzen

Ansur's re-released four-track Demo 2004, now entitled Carved in Flesh, is high on treble and seems to preach black math transistor metal. Those who like stuff like Leviathan might want to give Ansur a listen, as these fascinating musical structures are of a slightly similar vein. The aggressive rasp and the complex patterns show some potential, but hell, it would have been much better if they'd done a better job on production!

The Next time Ansur decide to re-release something, they perhaps could do some re-mastering as well. Hopefully the recordings from this summer will lead to a more representative product as this one isn't the way it could have been. (5/10)

review by: Pal Meentzen

The sound on this three-track demo is really dark and obscure. The music is sinister, the vocals guttural and shamanic, and the (programmed) drums are distant yet insisting. The bass is kept in the coffin for convenience's sake. The guitar parts are prominent enough, but at times a bit sloppy, unfortunately.

We're dealing here with yet another one man band, which can't so bad as one man bands can't disband, only decompose at worst, (which isn't bad, either, within the genre).

Black Moon Rising has some really interesting breaks and "At The Gates of Winter" continues to avoid any chances of o.d.-ing of repetition by using some unexpected ambient samples. This is important as otherwise Fog Over the Highlands would be nothing special at all. (6/10)

review by: Pal Meentzen

Sweden, 1988. A band called Nihilist, consisting of a few boys averaging 18 years of age, record their first demo, Premature Autopsy. The sound of this and subsequent demos is uncompromising, rough, brutal and thrashy. The concept of a metal Valhalla is born. One year later they disband, only to re-appear quickly as the rot & roll rollercoaster to be known as Entombed. They exist today and one of their latest songs, "Young Man Nihilist," seems to confirm that those Nihilist days were a blueprint for something special.

Timewarp! It is 2005 and I am holding in my hand a three-band compilation on a Korean metal label called Nerbilous. To my surprise the bands are not at all Asian but come respectively from Finland, Australia and Norway.

The Finnish Necrovomitor seems to re-capture the feel of a band like Nihilist, like they continue the trail of their demos that ended in '89. The bass, guitar and basement sound show some astonishing parrallels.

You either end up thinking that they're mere copycats, or saying, "Allright! That's the way the old school used to be!" This one deserves a positive vote because Necrovomitor seem to be enjoying making a jolly good racket on this five-tracker, while using some well thought up and ridiculous titles. Something like "Rotten Corpses in Vogue" puts a grin on my face before I even hear it.

Again, Necrovomitor seems to continue on a rusty plane that Nihilist left behind long ago. It doesn't have a captain setting the course, probably a skeleton by now, but it still might be going somewhere. Fair enough! (7/10)

PS: (See the reviews of the other bands on the Nerbilous comp in this issue)

review by: Roberto Martinelli

Nevermore are a tricky lot, what with kicking This Godless Endeavor off with a beat fit for Darkthrone and rough, raspy vocals. Then, the song transitions into a tradional / 80s US metal pre-chorus. And before you know it, you’re headlong into a fantastic chorus with some amazing guitar licks to back it up.

The monumentally catchy chorus is This Godless Endeavor’s greatest forte. Each song literally crashes into the section with aplomb, and each chorus anchors the song in its own unique way, partly thanks to a myriad of vocal parts in each song that come at you with different approaches, making the vocal climaxes all the more interesting. The album has not a single uninteresting moment through 11 songs. Nevermore achieve this with immense dynamism, retaining intensity through their slow parts as well as their fast ones.

Speaking of slow, "Sentient 6" is pure Sanctuary revisited, updated in the sonic presentation, and made more sinister. Like in Refuge Denied, Warrel Dane’s vocals, while teetering a bit on the cheesy side, are emotional and foreboding. And after some unfortunate albums of Pantera knockoff masquerading as melodic metal (Black Heart in a Black World) it’s good to see Warrel Dane is singing again, and that the melodic metal ship has righted itself.

Minor keys and huge, churning riffs that plummet again and again off sonic cliffs complement the eerie lyrics and delivery by all band members. The guitar work is ever delectable, with solos complementing the songs instead of being sideshows, and with technicality interspersed during the vocal parts that ever amplifies, and never gets in the way.

The face of American heavy, melodic metal? I can’t think of a band that would appeal more to the enthusiastic masses of sinister, hard-edged power metal. (9/10)

review by: Ryan Loostrom

If Pantera started out as a meager cock-metal band and evolved into the southern-grilled metal machine that they were, is it not plausible to think another band could as well? If you didn't think so before, Victory Records give you A Perfect Murder. Granted, no band could take Pantera's place, but A Perfect Murder are very possibly the first Pantera study band.

While A Perfect Murder’s earlier releases weren't really anything genre-redefining (or interesting, for that matter), Strength Through Vengeance is one heavy-ass slab of southern-toned metal. Much like Pantera never proclaimed to be part of it, you'll have doubts that A Perfect Murder would too, yet there's something distinctly southern about it. The pseudo-thrashy gallop of the music often draws more from southern metal – the solos too. Hell, even the vocals sound like an incarnation of Phil Anselmo, yet less deep.

Of course, as heavy as this CD is, it just feels so derived of Pantera that all it succeeds in doing is making you want to listen to the real thing. As close as this CD comes to hitting the mark of an almost perfect duplication – and it's close, down to Phil Anselmo's violent lyrics – it's just no match for the original. However, there's more than enough to be offered here. The mix of southern riffing and guitar harmonies in a good few of the rhythm verses is a lot more likeable than you'd believe.

A Perfect Murder are an excellent display of study music for a band that should be studied more often. Unfortunately, they really haven't succeeded in making themselves their own band. Their original CDs were expositions in trifle metalcore, and this time around, they're almost stealing a much, much greater band's identity. Philosophy aside, for what it's worth, it's an enjoyable listen. (7/10)

review by: Ryan Loostrom

Just reading the name Cast the Stone made me feel good about them. Generally, black metal bands follow some edict about darkness and Latin or Olde English. Metal was founded on being different, when you follow trends, you become the antithesis of metal. That's off-subject, though.

Cast the Stone are melodic black metal. Whereas most melodic black metal bands tend to get the could shoulder from rabid black fans, that's where Cast the Stone excel. Much like Pariah, they manage to adhere to the standards of black metal without letting their melodic side drag down their aesthetic quality. Although, the audible and actually dynamic bass in black metal is definitely new, which only racks Cast the Stone up more points.

Dark Skies Descending is almost epic. Opener "The Plague" sets the pace and mood for the album very nicely, giving off an almost progressive feeling about them. Not to mention the song is eight and a half minutes long. No single portion of it is dull, because the speed at which Cast the Stone blast through the music coupled with some amazing affinity for coherence make for one incredibly enjoyable listen. That's a good thing, because the album nears an hour in the end, and if it's orthodox for black metal to carry on for so long, then Cast the Stone are at the top of their game instantly.

The basswork also deserves it's own mention. It's rarely outside of bands featuring Steve DiGorgio that you hear bassword this blatant and dynamic. Whereas, it generally just seems to be the palette for a rhythm textured stereotypically by guitars or synth, something tenner, and never achieve a smidgeon of the emphasis that the other instruments have. Here, Cast the Stone employ it incredibly skillfully for a band so new.

Don't expect such great things from the production, though. Cast the Stone sound extremely homegrown yet experienced. Definitely a CD that all should hear. (9/10)

review by: Ryan Loostrom

Hardcore is usually a taste you either hit it off with immediately or hate. Generally, hardcore CDs tend to be equally hit-or-miss. Such is the  case with Cipher.

It's hard trying to sum up Cipher, as they tend to go from moments of decent melodic runs into breakdowns that aren't heavy, catchy, or anything. They're just boring. Granted, their drummer is very competent, but most of Cipher is just rehashed bands that came before. Candiria and E-Town Conrete's style of hardcore / rap vocals are present here, and they're unmoving to say the least.

Riffs are where Cipher excel. Unfortunately, lack of cohesion is very negating to it. Some of the melodic riffs here are awesome, but there's almost an equal amount of uninspiring and rather cliched hardcore licks present. Not to mention, some of the quasi-acoustic work is almost pitiful in simplicity.

Cipher aren't a complete disaster, but they're certainly nothing new. I'd suggest skipping them. (4/10)

review by: Ryan Loostrom

You know those CD's you find ten years later at a used music store that draw up nostalgia of the younger days of aggression? For some people, it's rediscovering Pearl Jam that put them into the mood for the plethora of other awesome 90's bands other than them. That's Jacknife. They're the perfect representation of where metal is now, but unfortunately unlike Pearl Jam, it's their method that gets an A+. Their output suffers significantly.

Why? Simple. Jacknife are every metal band you've ever heard. They've done their homework from the spectrum of Dark Tranquillity all the way to bands like Pro-Pain and Hatebreed. Every single riff they've written sounds like it has been pieced together through tedious tablature study of every single metal band that's come before them. Guitar harmonies are here in abundance.

Good? You bet. Hold your attention for more than a few minutes? About like Neurosis grabs someone with ADHD. It's just not happening if you're in the metal "know." Jacknife are just a hardcore / death / thrash worship group of every metal band.

Of course, you can't rule out the riffs that Jacknife can dish out. While they seem to be fairly hit-or-miss as far as their music goes, the moments where their riffs, melodies or any other portion of their theory is strong, it's strong enough to leave a lasting impression, which is what gives me a bit of hope about them. Although, they're full of every metal cliche – and their vocals can be highly annoying – they show competence when it comes to songwriting. It's like they hit the ground running, and it's always a good way to start a CD. In "Tears Fall Endless," there's a melodic vocal line that I can't get out of my head. No band has been able to impress me with such excellent vocal work since Devin Townsend.

If you're in the mood for any random metal CD, then Jacknife is going to fit the bill to every dotted "I" and crossed "T." Unfortunately, as far as weight goes, Moment of Reckoning only succeeds in casting a watchful eye over the band, not the CD. (6/10)

review by: Matt Smith

Jacknife is relatively standard fare: an uncomplicated mix of hardcore and thrash that features accurate, clear musicianship, some imaginative melodies and vigorously yelled vocals. Despite the good execution, however, there isn't anything new or groundbreaking to be found throughout the length of Moment of Reckoning. The tempos don't venture into either extreme, nor do the guitars or drums do much experimentation or stretching into unknown territory.

The thrashy guitar riffs are the highlight of the album, as there are some technical palm-muted sections and grooves that will get you moving despite yourself. The drumming is also precise and diverse, which helps to make the overall simple sound worth listening to. Jacknife may very well be a great band to see in a live performance, but Moment of Reckoning is going to strike many metalheads as more of the same. (5/10)

review by: Bastiaan de Vries

For the record: Reflections From the Time of Opening is remastered material from way back in the early 90's. I don't remember anything from that period, besides being just over a decade old, let alone not having an insatiable craving for machine-like ambience. Oh, there's some late 90s tracks as well, but we've heard them before (on the CMI Comp The Absolute Supper and Crowd Control's Funeral Songs). And to top it off, a track composed only last year, but it's too little too late.

What's a proper shocker is that the first fourteen tracks show a Raison so straight forward (and sterile at times) that it's hard to totally immerse yourself in the music. There's some proper soundscapes to be found but they're twisted under and intertwined with synthetic rhythms, quirky beats and pulsating ohs and ahs that it sounds hopelessly outdated.

The compilation tracks take a proper turn and as a result the album falls apart. Don't take this in as an "album" or even something with a concept because it just isn't. It's show and tell: where did the Raison come from, a tiny scrap book filled with smeared and faded pictures. Best song of the album, "Forgotten Mound" (from the Funeral Songs compilation) only clocks in at three minutes, for shame.

A trip down a non-existent memory lane at best, for those still in diapers when it came around the first time. As such it's a completely different Raison – with almost conventional sounding songs – than us youngsters know. It will be nigh impossible for us to put the album in perspective so best leave this for the Raison fan who is older than 30 and perhaps he or she can explain to us just exactly why we should give this dusty industrial diamond a chance. (5.5/10)

review by: Ryan Loostrom

There are bands that make music so odd it forces you to pay attention. The Mass are one such band. Their debut, City of Dis" was a trip into the dimension of all things weird. Sax-thrash Yes, as weird as it sounds, The Mass pulled it off with such memorable ease that it was amazing, even if the tone did sound distinctly Neurosis. Now, here we are with Pictures of Wisdom and Boldness.

The Mass are still golden. The 2005 release is an exercise in very bold musical statements that draw from several places; the guitar riffs range from slow, surging power-chords like you'd hear from Tool, to frenetic and spastic expressions of grind. Of course, the production still draws from Neurosis, but that's a good thing, because The Mass have a very Neurosis-like effect on the listener, especially in "Cloven Head." Towards the end, the sludgey aspect of The Mass come forth, and much like Neurosis relies on a Pink Floyd-esque useage of drawn out time to almost lull the listener into a trance as the music subtly becomes more intense, The Mass employ almost the same technique with Neurosis' efficiency.

Then the diverse aspect of The Mass kicks in. "Corpsewielder" is almost like a blow from pitch black darkness. The dissonant riffing begins and suddenly, you're welcomed by a moment of... indie rock? As unorthodox for metal as it sounds, there's no other way to describe the moment at 1:10 in the song where the bass takes prominence over the slowly trodding drumbeat.

Of course, therein lies The Mass's only weakness. Their brand of music is almost too diverse, so while something that's meant for everyone is what you're hearing, not everyone wants to hear something for everyone, and that could potentially turn a lot of listeners off. When Pink Floyd used sax, that was fitting. However, The Mass are metal, and that's going to be a tough one to swallow for most metalheads.

However, don't let the diversity scare you. The Mass are at least an interesting listen even if you hate them, but a good portion of their listeners are going to love this CD. (9/10)

review by: Matt Smith

I couldn't say enough good things about the first Caliban / Heaven Shall Burn split, and I'm a big fan of their subsequent albums. However, The Split Program II is a step backward for both groups. More mainstreamed and marginalized than the groups' previous efforts, this split has energy, production and technique but lacks the soul and maturity that Caliban and Heaven Shall Burn have shown themselves to be capable of.

Heaven Shall Burn's vocals are so thickly layered that there is absolutely no character left in them. Intimidating, loud and aggressive, sure, but certainly not unique. Caliban leans far too much on sung vocals on that band's half, and they are poorly done and seem out of place. The throaty, yelled vocals aren't as bad, but they aren't outstanding.

Both bands' drums and guitars are also homogenized to the point of being boring. There are some solid grooves and intermittent technicality on the groups' parts, but the vast majority of the tracks are simplistic and easily forgettable.

This split certainly isn't the worst album out there, but it has to be the worst effort yet by these two talented groups. I'm just going to pretend it never happened, and I suggest you do the same. We can cross our fingers for the next one. (4/10)

review by: Matt Smith

This re-release of Beecher's 2003 debut album gives us a peek at how far the band has come in two years. Premature? Perhaps. But we won't dwell on that point, and it should help with wider distribution. Beecher's sophomore effort, This Elegy, His Autopsy, was also released this year, and it displays a good deal more maturity than Breaking the Fourth Wall (read the review of the new one, also in this issue of Maelstrom). Beecher's debut is performed with accuracy, confidence and attitude, but it falls short of the technicality and attention to detail that are the highlights of the second release.

Although crisp and clear, Breaking the Fourth Wall's guitar and drum lines lack imagination and tend toward the repetitious as the listener's attention is drawn toward the screamed vocals. Even in 2003, however, Beecher experimented with different tempos and moods, lending a fair degree of variety to the album and fending off creeping boredom. But the general style is still heavily hardcore. This Elegy, His Autopsy is a more interesting blend of death-style grooves with hardcore vocals and edge. Breaking the Fourth Wall does display a good sense of melody and timing, but I'd start with the 2005 release and see if it's really something you're interested in before springing for this one. (5.5/10)

review by: Roberto Martinelli

Black Lotus Records was understandably thrilled about signing Midnight to their label. They told everyone they could about it. It was their new raison d’etre. And justifiably so: Midnight was the frontman for the greatly underappreciated power metal band Crimson Glory, whose heyday in the mid- to late-80s featured the man who may have had one of the best power metal voices, ever.

But having heard Midnight’s comeback album, Sakada, one can’t help but wonder, did Black Lotus sign the act before or after they heard the music?

Midnight’s fall is well known to fans of Crimson Glory. Since his stellar studio performances, the singer succumbed to serious drug abuse, which got so bad that he allegedly lost his mind, not to mention his voice, leading to the other members of the band having to pass him over when they reformed in the late 90s for their Astronomica album. So a Midnight comeback was equal amounts of excitement and doubt.

But who knew it would be this bad?

It’s so bad it’s sinister, which is the operating word throughout Sakada. For this album is not the kind of crappy record that anyone could make. Rather, it’s the kind of crappy record that only someone with a twisted, indelibly scarred psyche could produce. In this, Sakada is a kind of anti-genius.

You might buy this album to hear Midnight sing again. You’ll be scratching your head. If I put this on for you and didn’t tell you what it was, no matter how big a Crimson Glory fan you are, you would never guess. Our friend, bandmate, and Crimson Glory fanatic Hasad Freitag alleges he can tell it’s Midnight in the split second after he whistles for his camel and says "hey!" on track two, but we’re skeptical.

Expecting power metal with high, soaring singing with jaw-dropping range and magical control? Nope. It’s the farthest thing from metal. Of course it doesn’t have to be metal to be good, but it does have to be good. Sakada’s is some sort of monstrous psychedelic rock record fronted by a lunatic who’s lost the key to the mindspace of how to sing. The immediate tip off? The vocals on the first song, "Incubus" (nightmarish, indeed), are all under a heavy effect.

The remainder of the vocals are a kind of nasally, whiny sing-song drawl that speaks about heinous, cringe-inducing topics like pregnant women running through corn and hanging themselves with the rope that grandpa gave them, and depraved trailer trash tragedy in general. The music itself actually can get interesting, the best example being "Berber Trails," which has a dual effect of being a lulling psychedelic piece that also sounds like menacing wind chimes. But even the inclusion of a hammered dulcimer can’t save Sakada.

Honestly, it’s "so bad that I need to lie down" bad. It’s so bad that it’s worth a listen. And it’s because of this, and even more so coming from the perspective of a Crimson Glory fan, that Sakada richly deserves a negative score (and really, how many people would buy this album if it weren’t for Midnight’s old band? Why else would Black Lotus Records have been so excited?). For its blatant celebration of terribleness in some twisted way yields a sort of positive outcome, like the fatal car crash that you have to look at.

Don’t believe us yet? Consider the following lyrics, which on a screen do the actual listening experience no justice.

"He tripped on a cat and broke his ass, and crawled to the phone through the broken glass." (From "Little Mary Sunshine.")

"She had a pussy cat that peed when you pet him, but she loved him anyway." (From "Cat Song.")

If you have no idea who Midnight is or was, forget Sakada ever existed. Your lack of being able to relate to its relevance will make it a waste of your time and money. If you enjoyed Crimson Glory at all, we think it’s worth it for you to hear this record, especially if you also find car crash scenes strangely irresistible. (-2/10)

review by: Matt Smith

Totimoshi has developed a weird new brand of stoner rock. Downtempo and experimental, the group focuses mainly on otherworldly melodies that build into some relatively hard grooves. Mysterioso? features a variety of different styles and moods held together by pounding drums, fuzzy guitars and some strangely sung vocals.

None of it is technical or particularly dark, so many metalheads will be turned off right there. The repetitiousness of the style is another thing that many won't like, as it dwells on repeating short strings of notes that eventually build into other repeating short strings of notes. Distortion also plays a big part in Totimoshi's sound; everything sounds muffled, and the subtle addition of different pedals in the guitars adds some disorientation to the mix, but nothing too severe. Mysterioso? achieves a lightly psychedelic effect, but nothing too mind-bending, and the album is a generally unsatisfactory listen for someone who isn't crazy about the repeated vibration of a few strings with a couple of effects and samples thrown in. (5/10)

review by: Matt Smith

This French group's sophomore effort is only slightly over a half-hour long, but it is packed with activity. Zubrowska has achieved a chaotic mix of death and hardcore that appears to have little structure due to many frequent and drastic changes in riffs, tempo and style. The group administers these transformations with a deliberate and disorienting jerkiness, which works to keep the album sounding fresh from second to second.

Zubrowska's members don't have astonishing musical abilities, but the combined sound is interestingly complex. The drums and guitars often alternate their tempos, so while the drummer is hammering away, the guitars glide slowly under them with smooth melodies; and during the guitars' faster riffs, you'll often hear the drums beating out a simple rock beat underneath, or possibly something even more intermittent and experimental.

The Family Vault isn't an album you've heard in a dozen places before, so if singularity is something you value in your musical purchases, score one for Zubrowska. The group has speed, energy and a unique direction. Fans of experimental metal-core should definitely check this one out. And pay special attention to "Through The Sky," one of the band's more structured songs though one with a wide range in all respects. It is undeniably impressive. (7.5/10)

review by: Kristina White

There are a whopping five known metal bands with the moniker Disgorge, three of which are well-known, so this particular outfit almost always has the suffix (US) attached to it, though as far as we could tell, they actually had the name first. They've been around since 1992, and have had two demos and four full albums that were fairly well-received in the brutal death metal world.

This new album, Parallels of Infinite Torture, is exactly that to listen to, torture. Ok, perhaps that's a bit harsh. It's not torture so much as incredibly boring. The brutality is there, the heavy riffs, the cliched triggered drums, the actually better than average deep growl, but this album seems very lackluster and uninspired. No big changes in pace or style or much of anything throughout, it just kind of blends in with the background in very humdrum fashion. Every song literally sounds like the one before it.

If you don't have any Disgorge albums and were thinking about buying one, get Cranial Impalement or She Lay Gutted instead. This one isn't utter crap, but it definitely doesn't live up to the expectations we have of this band. (4.2/10)

review by: Matt Smith

The quick and thrashy musicianship of Biomechanical is sure to impress even the most skeptical listener; the guitars blaze through riffs and solos with accuracy and ease. A lot of imagination went into the rhythms and melodies, and Biomechanical breaks out some stone-cold grooves that get heavier than one might expect for a fast-moving thrash group. The drums aren't as impressive, but they don't get repetitive or imprecise at any point.

That said, I just can't get into power metal type vocals except on rare occasions. The vibrato riddled, man-soprano just doesn't seem to fit the music behind it in the case of Biomechanical. The vocals do feature some variety, but the bulk of it is high-pitched wailing that only manages to take one's attention from the impressive guitar work. This is more of a subjective critique, so I won't dwell on it. For those of you who really love that stuff, I suggest you take a listen to this one. (Do! The singer is the highly talented John K. from Balance of Power’s Heathen Machine – ed.)

The album does feature some nice variety throughout, and some serious planning and scrupulous song writing clearly went into it. The mix of a classic metal approach with newer technical sensibilities is a winner for Biomechanical, a band that possesses more than its share of instrumental skill, maturity of sound and attention to detail. (7/10)

review by: Matt Smith

This English hardcore group has really hit the mark with its sixth release (and second full-length album). This Elegy, His Autopsy is a mature and varied effort that is sure to appeal to most fans of energetic metal in any of its forms. Beecher's style is intense and pretty straightforward, with one foot in the experimental – trying different speeds, techniques, vocal and guitar styles, etc. – and the other firmly planted in the realm of the listenable and easily accessible to people unfamiliar with the band's previous effort (a re-release of which is also reviewed in this issue of Maelstrom). In other words, you won't often find yourself scratching your head and trying to figure out what they just did, and it's extremely unlikely that you'll have to rewind and start counting in order to figure out a section, but Beecher is far from predictable.

Moody, slow riffs give way to catchier choruses; ambient distortion blends with sludgy grooves; spoken word trades off with high-pitched screams and punctuated yells. There's enough variety for the whole family on this one, and it's an altogether satisfying mixture of punk's sensibility and death's aggressive technicality. (8/10)

review by: Matt Smith

Showdown starts with a lengthy hardcore shoutout that hints at the moshy, scene-oriented punkishness that is to follow. Butch's yelling goes almost the entire length of the album as the guitars and drums pound out predictable riffs designed for lots of crowd sing-a-longs and easy pit-moving on the band's part.

Barcode has been around for a decade, and although I'm not familiar with the group's earlier work, I can't imagine that it has progressed much in that time. The production is clear, but the music itself is simplistic, repetitious and, in the end, pretty boring. The songs start sounding the same almost immediately, and by the end of the CD you'll be checking to make sure your player isn't on repeat.

Basically, your average metal fan isn't going to get a lot out of this one. But you straight-edgers or community-centric hardcore moshers who dig message and attitude above actual musical content just might find Showdown somehow fulfilling. (4/10)

review by: Avi Shaked

In its 2004 debut album (which has only recently been issued in America), Sweden’s fresh Liquid Scarlet presents a well balanced bridge between classic progressive rock and avant-prog.

The more traditional aspect is achieved by floating, ethereal vocals reminiscent of David Sylvian’s, usually supported by airy, mellotron sounding keyboards and gentle, melodic guitars that will possibly remind you of Genesis.

These, however, often explode into intense passages, resulting in an accessible mass. "Citta Nuova," for example, can be considered as a compact version of Guapo, with all its pits and whirlpools. This one and the instrumental "Molok," which resembles Present in its gloomy atmosphere and raging repetitiveness, are definite highlights of this album.

I only wish that the songwriting, both lyrically and musically, was a bit more polished, as some of the songs lack a sense of completeness. I hope the band addresses this flaw on their upcoming releases (a second album and an EP release are expected on late September). Nonetheless, this release still comes recommended! (8.25/10)

review by: Avi Shaked

"Suspended Animation Dreams" is a magnificent, intimate and slightly hazy journey, uniting classic progressive rock, jazz, classical music and metal in a portentous manner. It is an eclectic experience that sounds natural and forceful, and this is, basically, what makes it a unique statement.

Listening to the album, one cannot help but admire leader Tomer Pink for he has taken certain characteristics of each genre and molded them together in a seamless manner. The laid back mood and creative freedom of jazz, the richness and intricacy of progressive rock as well as the intensity of metal – they all correspond so well with each other here, showing not only of Pink’s true and profound love towards each of the involved genres, but also of a thorough observation and understanding of them – all of these are often missing on parallel cross-genre albums.

It would be redundant to go through the album here, as each potential listener should give it a try and undergo the dreamy yet crystal clear, Pink Floydian production, the surprising instrumental and choral phrasing, the powerful riffs, Paul Kuhr’s (Novembers Doom) vocals and much more of what it has to offer, by himself; you are most likely to discover more details the further you drift into this engaging recording. (9.7/10)

review by: Avi Shaked

Bill Fay is an overlooked figure from the early 1970’s, recently resurrected to public attention thanks to two new, separate Eclectic Discs reissues of his first two albums, both featuring a stellar crew of musicians.

Fay’s work carries a reflective, melancholic English scent with it, which should appeal to Nick Drake devotees. The storyteller-singer is backed with a fine group of players, with Ray Russell being the most dominant name. At times they manage to shine and even solo through the classically oriented orchestration of Michael Gibbs, which albeit being slightly exaggerated, brings a majestic beauty to the songs, wrapping the thin, cracking vocals with grandiose textures. Furthermore, it adds a sense of completeness to songs that otherwise might have sounded half baked, possibly even truncated.

Fay’s sophomore album, Time of the Last Persecution (1971), shows not only a change of direction, but also a much needed refinement from the debut. The songs here are more intimate, with a stripped down orchestration and more of a rock attitude. There’s still a brass section to be found (featuring trombonist Nick Evans), but it is looser and jazzier rather than Baroque orchestrated compared to the debut. As such, the music is less disciplined and more obtrusive, corresponding well with the darker song writing that reflects on matters of life, deaths, peace and religion.

More upfront than on Fay’s debut, Ray Russell’s guitar work is alone worth the price of the album, with its exceptional overdriven, saturated tones, leading to climaxes without relief. His decorative style ranges from a gentle picking to a furious blender cacophony, and as a lead ornamental voice of the ensemble it is in the vein of the free-jazz flavors on King Crimson’s Lizard or Islands; faithfully reacting to Fay’s somewhat prophetic and fragmental songwriting, which has to be absorbed in order to be settled, and to the solid foundation of the strangely ticking drums, and the melodic grooves led by Fay’s piano. (9.25/10)

review by: Joshua

Growing up in the Rust Belt states since the 70s has to have been a dispiriting experience at best. Endless unemployment, perpetually crappy weather, the hollow eyed emptiness of a future devoid of prosperity and filled with an all encompassing ennui that can only be abated with generous dives into the waters of self-medication. From these polluted waters emerge Murder Your Darlings, espousing all the vitriol and negativity that they can muster and positively aching to drag you down with the ship; women and children be damned along with the rest of us.

Fifteen tales that take solace in the wretchedness of those even closer to rock bottom than yourself. Short stories of homicide and mayhem, loss and betrayal, salvation through obliteration, and passing down the inheritance of scarcity to the next generation. Oddly enough, through the bottom of this empty bottle roars a cathartic example of bare bones rock; equal parts curb stomping belligerence and jump-on-the-bar and make a fool of yourself exuberance.

The sound? Take the meaty base of Iggy and the Stooges, Ted Nugent and Grand Funk (Railroad) and infuse it with a punky, don’t give a shit insouciance. Layer in the trashy posturing of the New York Dolls and early Aerosmith, with a nastiness neither could ever hope to touch. Sprinkle a little stoner groove to and fro and cross it with the neo-biker rock of Circus of Power for some extra spice. Original? Hardly. But it’s a sure fire mix that surrenders a few pearls from its layers of grime.

Don’t like the straight forward pounding that is "Too Old to Die Young?" Fine, move on to the big assed swagger that’s "Yeah Babe" and try to deny your body’s insistence on throwing itself against the walls in spasmodic fits. If the tug of war between pedal to the medal and half time slog of "Too Much" overwhelms you, not a problem, immerse yourself in the plodding moodiness of "Murder County." Need something just a tad catchier? Lock your sights onto "When in Rome" and try to imagine anything less than prime Nirvana.

The point, ultimately, is that Murder Your Darlings wear their influences on their sleeve, a collection of merit badges sewn into the fabric of each song. Proud and defiant, they twist their collective misery into something just short of hope, grasping fitfully towards the arms of salvation that they will never reach. (6/10)

review by: Avi Shaked

Bill Fay is an overlooked figure from the early 1970’s, recently resurrected to public attention thanks to two new, separate Eclectic Discs reissues of his first two albums, both featuring a stellar crew of musicians.

His 1970 eponymous debut album consists of songs penned and sung by Fay, presents him not quite the wisecracker as Bob Dylan, nor as wide ranging as the young Elton John; instead, Fay’s songwriting offers a childish perspective – banal perhaps, but straightforward and transparent, portraying the world as he sees it while offering penny advice (it’s a shame the Eclectic Discs staff did not include his lyrics on the reissues).

Fay’s work carries a reflective, melancholic English scent with it, which should appeal to Nick Drake devotees. The storyteller-singer is backed with a fine group of players, with Ray Russell being the most dominant name. At times they manage to shine and even solo through the classically oriented orchestration of Michael Gibbs, which albeit being slightly exaggerated it brings a majestic beauty to the songs, wrapping the thin, cracking vocals with grandiose textures. Furthermore, it adds a sense of completeness to songs that otherwise might have sounded half baked, possibly even truncated. (7.2/10)

review by: Roberto Martinelli

Excalion is a grower, not a shower. It takes about three to four complete spins of Primal Exhale for the music to transcend apparent averageness and flourish into endearing likeability.

Excalion’s style is power-cum-heavy metal. Since it doesn’t blow you away with speed or flashiness, it takes a little longer to grow on you. However, when it does, you might start noticing similarities with Italy’s Highlord in the use of keyboards to flesh out the songs’ anchors, as well as the catchy vocal melodies and arrangements sung by a talented, agreeable singer, which are the album’s highlights.

In the end, Primal Exhale is indeed an album that starts slow and yields higher results as time is given to it. (7.4/10)

review by: Kristina White

Ok, so this is another Unmatched Brutality re-release (it was previously released on now defunct TXDM Records). Most of the time when a label re-releases an album, there's bonus tracks of previously un-released material, or demo tracks or something new. In this case, there isn't any of that, nothing new, no detectable change in the sound or production, the only thing noticeably different is the artwork.

With that said, we should move on to Insidious Decrepancy "themselves." This is actually a one-man project from Houston, TX, with Shawn Whitaker, formerly of Sect of Execration and Viral Load, doing vocals, guitars, bass in the studio, and all the drum programming. He's sort of a modern-day brutal death version of those one-man-band guys you've seen in movies and on TV with the cymbals on their knees, a kazoo in their mouths and playing an accordion all at the same time. Can you imagine the kind of energy and work it must take to record an entire album like this, while playing all the instruments yourself? It's an impressive feat.

While the content is similar to most other brutal death metal, listening to it knowing that it's all done by one person gives the music a little more oomph in your mind. The guitars are quite good, flowing from faster slammy riffs to slow driving crunch. The drum programming is great, not so obviously a drum machine as most bands that use them. The vocals are full the low, pukey gutturalness we all love so much.

Altogether a good album, not completely essential for everyone, but brutal death fans will want this one. We're anxiously waiting to hear Insidious Decrepancy's forthcoming release, The Inerrancy of Profanation. (7.9/10)

review by: Ryan Loostrom

Who doesn't like fun music? Occasionally, you just have to drop the inhibitions technically and go for a piece of music that just rocks without any sense of pretension or experimentation. That's where Kids Like Us come in. Taking such influence from places like thrash, hardcore punk and southernized groove have produced one extremely interesting and moshable listen from a band showing just how competent they are with stripping music down to the back-to-basics material and managing to stay just as strong.

Hell, you can look at the sleeve art and see just what the hell Kids Like Us are all about. Cartoony monsters rampaging a city. Cheesy, but who doesn't like watching a Godzilla movie every now and then, right? The music on this CD is not setting any new standards, but what it is doing is offering a listen that will stick with you like a splinter lodged in the small of your back. Their music varies from a casual groove in their opening song, "Outta Control," to the immediate picker-upper in tempo, "Box of Buttholes."

Again, Kids Like Us are a band who knows how to cut the bullshit short. While they have no major sense of progression, their songs do tend to have sections that aren't similar to chorus-verse structuring, instead opting for quick transitions between thrash and hardcore grooves. However, it doesn't keep songs from becoming a bit droning after the second repetition. So, to answer that, Kids Like Us cut down the length of their CD. It's about twenty-minutes long, but it's full of awesome music.

One odd aspect about them is the leads. They all seemed to be distinctly influenced by the southern gamete of music. Not necessarily awe-inspiring, but adding a solo in the school of Lynyrd on top of grooved-out punk is a vert inventive and interesting listen, especially if you're a guitar fanatic.

Outta Control is just fucking fun. There's no real strength or selling point to the album other than the sheer amount of enjoyment you'll be able to derive from it. No over-pompous core-emphatic music is too be found here. Approach with an opened mind, and you'll leave with a sore neck. (8/10)

review by: Roberto Martinelli

Pageantry for Martyrs is a highly impressive death metal onslaught that often reminds of Nile’s brand of heavy, droning rhythm guitar and the drums set to snare=slow, bass drums=overdrive, minus all the fantasy Egyptian themes. In fact, Hour of Penance sometimes outdo the masters in controlled doses of the trend-setter’s own game, but ultimately fall a bit short in the relative lack of separation of Pageantry for Martyrs’ songs.

A highly recommended album for death metal fans, this album really highlights the drums, which are very busy and technically impressive, and the production, which is breathtaking. (7.9/10)

review by: Bastiaan de Vries

Prologue:

Behold; the great black barn of death. Mules gather around like lamenting bringers of rot. Festering green and purple horses kicking the dirt. Large crows nestled inside the blackened roof. Brooding trees with mummified felines hanging from the branches. Only after they become silent with your arrival do you notice the deafening hum coming from inside the barn. Avoid the barbed wire fence spotted with evidence, dark red and clotted.

Beware of your footsteps; the brown substance is tricky, light as a feather across and around hate and despair. Tiny brilliant eyes up and down, looking for a victim. Ignore them and keep walking, head for the handle at the door. Inside, a giant amplifier; black through and through. A single beam of light like a spotlight on the volume dial. Its point towards the floor, no numbers to speak of. The suffocating silence creeps out as you turn and turn it round, upside down towards the sky. Another beam of light appears, shining bright a charcoaled guitar.

Strings of highest quality ring true the vibrant vigilante heart. A tune, or two, of man and his enemy. Golden coins trickle from the windows when you play your final chord, crashing through and breaking off the sustain.

Chapter:

When looking at the green muscle car cover of the Earth album Pentastar; in the Style of Demons and lapping up the rock styled flavor of the songs, it was a grand step from the droning drama of (for example) Earth 2. Hex; or Printing in the Infernal Method, apart from its more song oriented basis, is again a fierce step in a better direction.

This new record sounds decidedly cowboy, even more so when our Texas staffer Rick Luna calls it "genius." Imagine a young Clint Eastwood strolling through the desert looking for people to shoot with a large gun and women to fuck, after which he will sit atop a big rock to lament that all he found was an eerie ghost town. Got it? This record is the soundtrack for it.

One could argue that after a while the record starts to drag; my dear hero editor was put off by the blues feel towards the end. Me, I am putting it in my top three albums of the year even though I found it to be short at just over 46 minutes. The succes of this album will largely depend on how much cowboy you are willing to take.

Epilogue:

Outside, hear the distant hum of the abandoned townsfolk. Miners and whores, a sheriff and his deputy. Most important of all: the undertaker entering your domain. His footsteps echo in your head as he gets near, his eyes sizing you up to see if you fit. A smell of rotting wood and rank soil as his personal halo. He's come to take you away, give you back to Earth.

Sweet release as you float towards the ceiling, like a spark of life fading out above a fire. Hung upside down amongst the red eyed bats, throat filled with ash and dust. Ring the melancholy bell three times, you belong to him now. (10/10)

review by: Matt Smith

This self-released demo displays some potential on the part of Dark Haven. The sound is crisp and the performance accurate as thrashy rhythms are pounded out under punctuated yells. Overall, a professional-sounding effort, and Dark Haven has a good musical sense at its base.

But Your Darkest Hour is mainly a shallow attempt, lacking substance beneath the cleanly executed guitar melodies and atmospheric synthesizers. The musicians may hit the right chords on the right beats, but the end product isn't a whole lot to listen to. The technicality never reaches a satisfactory point, the tempos are unadventurous and the lyrics are vague and trite – angst-ridden and completely unsubstantial.

Dark Haven has a way to go before anyone outside of California is going to be interested in helping the group emigrate. The band's got the basics, but there's no reason to seek out this demo over something groundbreaking. (4/10)

review by: Avi Shaked

Now, this one is quite disturbed. "I hope it gets worse for you" and "rather slit your throats than write a brand new song" are just a few of the gestures towards fellow men that this slightly misanthropic group has to offer you on the lyrical side. That’s probably why they are only "Friends of Rock & Roll" and nobody else.

And although this approach is sometimes quite the paradox (unless they did not plan to reach any audience, that is), it fills the album with a highly amusing context, and the music supports it boldly.

The demented, howling vocals will surely get your initial attention. These sound most of the time as if Rob Zombie is about to puke. It’s a miracle that they manage to maintain to keep the lyrics coherent, but they do; and though they might require some getting used to, they contribute to the mess.

As for the music, it has a strong scent of grunge blended with stoner rock. Think of Nirvana meeting Monster Magnet and you’ll get the picture. It is all served in a hardcore package that surprisingly (again) manages to maintain a melodic edge.

But that’s not all. There are some more surprises thrown in as well, with a drifting into Krautrock (a genre that emerged from Germany in the early 70’s, deriving from psychedelic rock and generally characterized by jams blended with primitive electronica) being most notable on the two closing songs, the first of which also has a Black Sabbath feel into it, and the second is based on a lengthy Hammond organ dominated jam (by the way, if you liked this one try the 1972 release by Bodkin).

This is one screwy release for the distorted hard rockers. If you are among those, make sure you check it out! (7.77/10)

review by: Matt Smith

This is the sort of album that might make the bile rise in your throat before 30 seconds have passed. Simplistic, neo-punky anthems are the name of the game – quick, repetitive drum rhythms and sloppy, high, distorted guitar chords with whiny, nasaly singing over the top. If it weren’t for the heavy Italian accent and broken English of the lyrics, For Today would be totally unbearable. But the vocal delivery adds an element of amusement that at least makes the album tolerable to a point. Certainly something I’ll never be listening to again, and I suggest you follow my lead. Besides, there’s something you just can’t trust about a band that gives out its members’ cell phone numbers in the liner notes – it just reeks of desperation. (You can reach Makkio, the vocalist, anytime at 3293950501) (1/10)

review by: Avi Shaked

Barclay James Harvest’s Live (from 1974) is a phenomenal live recording, not because of its sound, which has some drawbacks of a shaky seventies recording that remain untouched (and rightfully so); but because it captures a seventies rock band in all its virtues: subtle, attentive to details, powerful and emotional. You need no more than one listen to "Mocking bird" to realize that.

Barclay James Harvest is not as common name among progressive rock fans as you can expect. Perhaps it is because the band’s material is less elaborate compared to the works of Yes and Genesis; or maybe it is due to their correspondence with the more basic psychedelic and folk rock ("Summer Soldier" for example, might bring up a Neil Young comparison).

This release, however, is proof of the band’s terrific energy on stage and its raw authentic delivery, with a fired up rhythm section, scabrous guitar, vocals imbued with a sense of mission, and a mellotron setting the heavy, symphonic atmosphere.

A highly recommended release for those of you who seek a flared encounter of progressive rock with its less tamed roots. (8.5/10)

review by: Joshua

Any of you actually been up close and personal with a hog? Not the little pot bellied things that were all the suburban rage a few years back or the irresistibly cute and noble creatures immortalized by Babe or Wilbur of Charlotte’s Web fame. No, we’re talking about two hundred and fifty pounds (or more) of snorting and snarfing, all-purpose beast. They ain’t cuddly, covered in fur that’s bristly to such a degree that it will cut you if go against the grain. They’ve got attitude to spare and are intelligent to an alarming degree (read Orwell’s Animal Farm for a nightmarish swine allegory that will keep you up nights). And talk about efficient, they’ll eat just about anything. Got a body that needs quick disposal? Throw that sucker on into the hogpen, give it an hour or two (depending on number of hogs) and done. Nothing remains. Not a trace. Nothing.

Blessing the Hogs, indeed. This San Francisco crew must know these few facts and a whole lot more given the profound lack of warmth found within the album’s thirteen tracks. No starry eyed visions or soul stirring sounds from the heartland. The Hogs in question are blessed for their ability to finish off the nefarious work that you’ve started.

The Twelve Gauge Solution isn’t so much a record as a mugging. Buzzsaw mean, sadistically indifferent to your pain and so goddamn pig ugly that opening your eyes isn’t a viable option. Imagine the thick claustrophobic crawl of Eyehategod and Buzzov-en sped up to double and triple time, ramped down at various intervals, and then jacked up again just for the hell of it. Add in churning and absolutely sick rhythms that hold you captive very much against your will, sludgy breaks punctuated by blast beats, rapid-fire fills that belie short lived grooves, a punitive bass tone, vocals that expel lung matter with each exhale and you’re faced with a platter as abhorrent as it is fatalistically alluring.

Blessing The Hogs’ single mindedness is a double edged sword. What they do – wielding blunt objects within the confines of an abattoir – they do very well. Over the course of an hour though, the tracks take on a monochromatic dinginess that, by the midway point, leaves you more fatigued than the wide eyed and amped on adrenalin skittishness brought on at the album’s inception. A conundrum to be sure as you can’t imagine them doing it any other way. (7/10)

review by: Matt Smith

Fear My Thoughts has evolved from its hardcore beginnings into a solid metal band, with forceful growls and aggressive death guitar lines. Hell Sweet Hell has some nice touches, especially as far as the flourishes and technical grooves go. The guitars and drums are driving and accurate, and repetitiveness isn't something to worry about with this album. The general sound stays the same; there isn't any extreme experimentation or diversion from the norm, but the riffs are continually morphing, bringing in new melodies, and basically keeping everything interesting.

Synths also play a big part in Hell Sweet Hell, but thankfully they stay toward the background, just fleshing out certain sections and then fading away. Thanks to a producer with a good ear, they never overpower something more interesting. The other instrumentation is also crisp and well mixed, allowing the listener to take in the often complex guitar riffs and grooves.

Overall, Hell Sweet Hell is a well planned and well played album that will appeal mainly to fans of thrashy-death stuff. (8/10)

review by: Rod Togam

Sluggish. Expected. Standard. Influenced. Derivative. Simple.

Dark. Bleak. Authentic. Minimalistic. Representative. Emotional. Expressionist.

The latest release by Forgotten Tomb is surely a problematic album to review. Bordering between black and doom metal, the Italian group provides a product amalgamating trite extreme metal clichés and familiar phrases within an already known context – yet still manages to imbue them all with a sense of honest, individual expression.

The music on Love's Burial Ground is composed of long, repetitive songs, featuring usually recurring cycles of quite uninnovative movements mixing elements of clean guitars with heavy growls and distortion. The procession is slow and torturing, the melodic and harmonic movements being at times rather corny and sorrowfully loyal to boring, simple tonal sequences.

And still, simply bashing the album would definitely be too easy for the reviewer: out of the barren sonic scapes indeed rises a sense of true intrinsic essence, a grain of true murky emotion sprouting within the moors of mild boredom. And perhaps the tedious monotony was intended to bear such effect in the first place?

Therefore, the decision whether Love's Burial Ground is to be praised or berated is to be left for the individual listener. Any concrete critical statement would be unfair, and unjust towards the band and the reader. The best recommendation one may receive regarding such an album is simply "experiment." But, wait, isn't that the case with every review whatsoever? (6/10)

review by: Avi Shaked

Like the previous Auris Media release of Ganelin’s Eight Reflections of the Past Century, this recording, which documents the Ganelin Trio Priority live in Germany 1999, is a state of the art live recording, capturing the eighty minute long musical journey (of soprano saxophone, piano, synthesizer, percussions and drums) in all its glory and nuances. But that is where I will abandon my enthusiastic technical adoration in order to focus on the anointed essence.

If Ganelin was a painter, his work would probably have been in the vein of Salvador Dali’s, though possibly more intimidating. His recurring motifs as well as his symbiotic blend of acoustic and electronic sounds are instantly recognizable forms which he uses to draw surrealist, dreamlike, abstract sound paintings.

Truthfully, I cannot make sense of the flow of events here, but it does flow magnificently! From the laid back, still water, through the tiding and ebbing waves and unto a shivering storm, this recording is one that, I believe, will fascinate any dedicated listener.

The trio is in top form throughout, either in solos or as a collective force screaming from the ambience, which ranges from the slightly symphonic and mellow to the fierce and chaotic. A must have for fans of avant garde jazz. (9.7/10)

review by: Pal Meentzen

The Gault, which consisted of two guys and two girls, played western dark doom music.

They released this album having already disbanded, leaving only 1000 original copies of Even as All Before Us as their legacy. The guitarist, John Gossard, may be known by some as the founder of Weakling, which was equally short-lived but which seems to have attained cult status. He now plays in Asunder. The Gault bears, apart from present day doom, elements of gloomy music from the past 25 years, like new wave fronted by the tragic Joy Division. Another scene comes to mind, but I'll come back to that later.

The first tune on Even as All Before Us is "Ire," a short instrumental intro that is led by a few acousitic guitar notes with some atmospheric background sounds. It's very introverted and could be followed by anything.

The next tune, "Obliscence," immediately clarifies that this is not a record with drums on fire as it introduces the sound of a snare drum like it's busy getting tuned up for the monitors on stage, playing in an economical march style. Then an equally economical bass comes in, followed by wavering guitars somewhat reminiscent of the style of The Cocteau Twins circa 1982.

The vocals of Ed Kunakemakorn give the impression he's still rather young, but he does his best to sound as tormented as possible. It's all positively done in minor key and there's a lot a dramatic lamentation. At the same time it's very theatrical and artistically done and this might betray some possible school of the arts background. Who knows? There is enough artiness here, like in the titles.

On the song "The Shore Becomes the Enemy," Lorraine Rath (who also does all the bass on this record and is now in Amber Asylum) delivers some smooth and stylised singing. It seems to be the key track to the album as it has integrated the intro tune.

The term "western dark doom" that seems to be applied to this album doesn't quite cover the contents. The Gault doesn't make music that rocks, but it neither manages to, as doom metal may envisage, sending a chill up your spine. On the other hand it could be music to a performance with a film with scenes of bleak impressions as depicted on the sleeve. This is where the other scene I alluded to at the beginning of the review comes into the picture.

In the early 90s the UK had what was called the Shoegazer scene. The bands had often emotionally charged and melodic songs with lots of raucous guitars and walls of sound. A member from one of its important bands, Ride, was once asked where all the angst came from. After a while he came up with the idea that perhaps he should've had more good sex. This impression you also get when hearing The Gault, because the projected feelings of dissatisfaction and smothered desires keep dragging on and on, culminating in the last four songs clocking in well over 12 minutes. But whether shorter or (much) longer, there's a uniformness hanging over these songs like a grey and doomy cloud, making them pretty interchangeable.

In short, The Gault may be strong on creating a morose atmosphere, but it remains too ethereal to catch you by the throat. (5/10)

review by: Roberto Martinelli

I disagree. The Gault leans far more over to the goth side of music. We’re not talking about pretty girls in black lipstick and frilly dresses on misty nights; we’re talking about the origins of goth: rough music full of angst and despondence, which has been largely replaced since with faux prettiness and theatrics.

The old school is where The Gault lived. Pal is right that the drums and bass are "economical": it’s super simple and basic, and still is kind of shaky. But its this that contributes to the extreme sense of despondency that permeates this record. Perhaps it is this feeling that will make Even as All Before Us so appealing to black metal fans: it’s a nigh suicidal record. Hakan from Total Holocaust Records, when receiving the unmastered version of this record before its official release, said although it’s not what his label would release, he couldn’t stop listening to it.

John Gossard’s assessment was correct in our interview with him that The Gault failed because anyone who would like their music would rather just listen to it at home. Even as All Before Us is the quintessential go nowhere and do nothing album. This is what makes it so dangerous: it’s just so depressing. But The Gault goes beyond that and into cult status, just like anything musical Gossard is involved in. It’s partly because of these bands' mix of obscurity and tragedy, bands that seem to unwittingly engineer their own self-fulfilling prophecy of doom. Perhaps that has something to do with why Even as All Before Us is an essential album in spite of its being critically flawed.

Or maybe it has something to do with Gossard’s personal secret to success, that not knowing what he’s doing yields good results, and once he figures it all out, it’s time to go because it’ll be bad from then on. You might say that about The Gault across the board. But like Weakling, we’ll never know. Be that as it may, Even as All Before Us is a conditional must have, with that condition being that it will appeal to those not squeamish about enduring a primordial downer of a record with little to no technical highlights. But isn’t that what Joy Division was all about? (8/10)

review by: Ryan Loostrom

The first time you'll hear this CD, you'll feel like a woman during PMS. You won't know whether to laugh or beat something to death. Therein lies Grimness's personality-drenched music. It's when you know that regardless of the music, Grimness are going to be a group you remember because of their accidental image, so to speak.

Make no mistake, though, upon first listen this CD offers one extremely basic, yet highly addictive brand of death metal that supplies excellent riffs in fucking spades. It always helps to be able to make music that completely bludgeons on top of humorous songtitles like "My Mongoloid Girlfriend," which is actually one of the better cuts from the entire CD.

The vocals are rough as hell, and the music rapidly transitions between speeding moments of death metal freneticism and almost southern-born grooves and plods. A large portion of the enjoyment of this CD is definitely found in the songlenth. Songs aren't longer than two minutes a piece. Hell, the entire album doesn't run any longer than eleven minutes. While that would send most into a tantrum, you have to consider the logic here. Grimness lack any semblence of originality. As much ass as their music kicks, if you think they're writing any new music, you're obviously deranged or Quaker. Either one warrants engulfment in flames. They kept their music short to keep the entire thing from dragging out. Consider it like a musical punch – extremely quick and effective, while still retaining the character of death metal.

You just can't ignore how catchy Grimness are, though. Honestly, it's a rarity when a band can manage to retain heaviness and personality, but when they can be catchy without sacrificing either, that's when you know you've got a CD worth remembering on your hands. Grimness are going to be a very popular band very soon if they can manage to keep on making music like they've done in this demo. (8.5/10)

review by: Avi Shaked

This is a tricky release to review for the international audience. The reason for this is the strong verbal foundation of the music, which is based around a Hebrew modern poem by Roman Baembaev; so, quite like the wonderful Hot Fur’s recent release through Musea, non-Hebrew speakers will definitely miss an important dimension of the work.

Considering this, I then realized how much I love the seventies albums of the politically driven Italian band Area without understanding a word of what they rave about. And while this is an exceptional example of the universality of music, even if it pertains to certain language and cause, it is not the only one.

So those who will not understand a single word here will not fully grasp the crude and amusing poetry that is found here; so what?! They are still most likely to feel its energy and vital kinkiness through the extroverted presentation of Baembaev himself, utilizing his rough voice with a typical Russian accent.

In a way, Baembaev’s execution might remind you of sailor songs, but these are delivered in adaptation that incorporates rock, jazz and folk. Danny Tsukerman, who is credited for the music, relies on jazzy chords, rugged blues and edgy rock rants in order to maintain the musical equivalence of the humorous lyrics. Some of its entertaining touch stems from this wild combination, while the rest results from a playful outburst of the instruments, especially from the blazing clarinet and saxophone of Yoni Silver and his instrumental dialogues with Tsukerman’s guitars.

This is a hilarious yet clever release, which addresses humanity ambivalently with both disgust and winks of acceptance. (9/10 for Hebrew speakers, 7/10 for others)

review by: Matt Smith

Hatesphere's brand of thrash is particularly bassy and aggressive, with percussive, throaty vocals and unrelenting, groovy lines from the guitars as the drums pound away. The band also knows how to rock out, with some slow grooves that are sure to capture your attention. None of the tempos are too extreme, though the EP moves along at a steady clip.

The guitars are satisfyingly technical in their grooves and melodies, and are the real highlight of the album. The drums are monotonous, as are the vocals, which don't draw much interest for most of the record. The guitar riffs, however, are impressive and diverse, and a few good solos are sure to strike you (though a bit heavy on pedals and light on fingerings). Hatesphere's cover of Suicidal Tendencies' "Trip at the Brain" is also well done. This preview does whet one's appetite for the full-length to come, though I would wait to see what else is to come before making a final judgment. (6.5/10)

review by: Joshua

Alright, it’s obvious to anyone paying even the slightest attention that the metalcore train is going to slip off the tracks much sooner rather than later, and the only survivors in the impending wreckage will be those that do it better than the next guy – the Calibans and Heaven Shall Burns of the world – and those that have learned to adapt and survive by incorporating outside sources for nourishment. On Broken Wings isn’t one of the first or best of the metalcore brigade, but with album number two they’ve brought out a sundry arsenal and proceed to dance all over the still breathing carcass of the scene.

First impression is mixed. The cover art is superb: a preacher silhouetted in relief, the solitary attendant to a lone gravestone perched against a landscape whose only features are a dilapidated house and skeletal branches jutting from the arms of a moisture starved tree; the starkness implying a potentially bleaker edge than the usual fare. On the minus side, a quick scan of the CD’s track listing reveals two songs, "I Do My Crosswords in Pen" and "Listless" found on the band’s debut. A dearth of ideas on band’s sophomore release certainly doesn’t bode well and these newer versions add little, short of a crisper production, that the originals didn’t already possess. Thankfully, it’s no significant cause for alarm as these two transgressions do little to detract from the rest of the material.

It’s become something of a mantra, but diversity is and always will be the key to success beyond the confines of any genre. The On Broken Wings approach is to take opposing elements from various sources, lay them side by side and run them parallel until they inevitably veer off course and collide, sometimes resuming their original course, oft times skidding off into unexpected environs. Slow, pummeling riffery gives way to rapid fire thrash and back again. Emo laced vocals wilt under a hail of double kickdrum ferocity. Hyper aggressive grind is buffered by deliberate breakdowns. Stop/start chunkage plays alongside hiccupy rhythms. Swedish influence creeps in and nestles with languorously repetitious marches. Clean choruses and melodic bridges yield an unexpected balm to the shredded larynx bark overlaying brutal low end battering.

It’s All A Long Goodbye is a veritable grab bag of tropes from the extreme metal canon. It’s a testament to the band’s ability that they can weave them together in such a seamless manner. The parts shouldn’t fit as well as they do; hell, they might not even deserve to blend so well. But in capable hands such as these, darting from extreme to extreme renders a whole that shines greater than the sum of its parts. (6.5/10)

review by: Kristina White

The band Prostitute Disfigurement formed in 2000 and has been a staple of the brutal death world ever since. It must be in their blood, as they hail from the brutal death hotbed of the Netherlands. They've released three albums so far, the most recent being Left in Grisly Fashion, but today's review centers on a beefed up re-release of their first album, Embalmed Madness.

At first listen, we're presented with the same rehashed formulaic brutal death tracks we've been inundated with the past few years. Horror film/porn sound clip + heavy riffs + not-so-great-drumming + super low gurgly growls + most songs sounding the same = formula for success in the brutal death scene, a la Mortician. (Though they did use a clip of my favorite line from the movie "ConAir"). Now, this is not a bad album, especially when you remember that this was originally released five years ago, before the scene was completely saturated in monotonous symmetry. This is one of the albums that created that which other bands seemingly tried to conform to.

The guitars here are great for what they are. These guys aren't trying to be virtuosos; they're trying to sound heavy, and at that they succeed. The drums are boring. The vocals are great for the ear that likes the guttural, vomiting style, with the occasional "black metal" style cackly line thrown in here and there. Part of Prostitute Disfigurement's charm is their song titles, which include "Rotting Away Is Better Than Being Gay," "Cadaver Blowjob," and "On Her Guts I Cum."

The end of the album is their five track demo, Disfigure. More of the same. Overall, it's a good listen for fans of the band and the genre itself. There's nothing standout; non-essential, but go ahead and grab it if you don't have the original release. (5.7/10)

review by: Joshua

Spastic, chaotic and all over the map – often simultaneously – Quell are the grinning and leering foster child foisted on you under protest, gleefully destroying all the furniture and the best china in the house with the reckless abandon of a five year-old on a Twinkie and Kool-Aid bender. Discord, dissonance and a sheer unadulterated penchant for sonic obliteration are the bedrock from where these guys operate and if you can’t handle it, well hey, you’ve got two options: tuck your shriveled manhood between your thighs and run away, fast, or stand your ground, look the beast in the eye and throw your prayers skyward just before the point of impact.

Quell is one of a host of recent bands that would have fit right in on the Amphetamine Reptile or early Hydrahead rosters of yore; hardcore leanings splayed out over corrosive sheets of noise and cacophony that retain underpinnings of melody, albeit buried deep, deep down under the layers of feedback and distortion. While most of the tracks stomp and kick their way into existence, they do so with a keen eye on the unexpected, combining elements of post rock, jazz structures and straight to the point metal with mathematically complex junctures that will keep your head spinning as you’re busy trying to protect the more vulnerable parts of your anatomy. There’s an inherent skill in working from this type of palette without it disintegrating under its own weight. Quell succeed in this arena because they not only understand how to utilize noise for noise’s sake but also when not to use it.

The majority of the tracks show no concern for anything other then total submission to their violent will, yet subtle passages of relief intersperse themselves amongst the chaos. Echoey, reverbed guitar breaks laid over mumbled vocals, random bits of sparse electronics, laid back, not-in-a-hurry-for-anything harmony guitar, bits of bubbly, rolling bass that flit in and out at seemingly random points in time. But on closer inspection these diversions are anything but arbitrary. Rather, they’re precisely calibrated to offer relief from the din before throwing the listener right back into the frothing mouth of pandemonium; it’s almost cruel, these shards of light barely savored before one’s consumed again and again by opaque black clouds.

And just to throw a monkey wrench into what came prior, Quell end the album with two tracks that virtually turn this established formula inside out. One incorporates an extended piano coda birthed from a squall of piercing feedback, sparse notes walking gently over a faint, barely there buzzing, as if tiptoeing around a dozing monster. The other has an oddly epic feel, big sounding and rousing, like the aftermath of a fight where winning is having no broken bones and all of your teeth intact.

Invigorating and draining, ramshackle and sturdy, a glorious mess and messily glorious. (7/10)

review by: Kristina White

New Orleans band Soilent Green has been around forever and a day, well, since 1988 anyway, and in the age of flash in the pan bands that disappear never to be seen or heard from again, 1988 to now seems like forever. They have a great pedigree, with members also having played or still playing in EyeHateGod, Goatwhore and Crowbar to name a few. Their discography includes a demo, three splits and four full albums, including Sewn Mouth Secrets, which in many opinions was the peak of Soilent Green's career.

On to the album at hand, Confrontation, their newest release. Upon first listen, you may think that you've accidentally inserted your Vulgar Display of Power CD into the player, until you realize that the drums are much faster in places and the lyrics aren't quite what you remembered them to be. Soilent Green has always been compared to Pantera, but that argument is actually given some validity on this album. We hear Pantera-esque, southern sludgy guitar style, morphing into crunchy riffs, and Ben Falgoust's vocals on this album are almost a dead ringer for Phil Anselmo's. What happened to the anger, the occasional screeches and growls that were to be heard on Sewn Mouth Secrets? That album was full of pain and anguish, an almost palpable rage. All of that is gone on this album.

What happened? I would think with all the band and Ben himself have been through in the past couple years (terrible injuries in accidents, the murder of an ex-band member) would make them even more pissed off. The album is called Confrontation, give us some! Instead we have rather semi-drab music, while performed very well, it's just not what fans have always loved about Soilent Green.

Admittedly, the country-style little in-between track, "Another Cheap Brand of Luck," is quite cool and a definite change in style, but for the most part this album lacks the fierce energy and anger we turn to bands like Soilent Green for. Die hard fans of the band should stick with them and most definitely support them, but let's hope their next album brings back the days of old. (6/10)

review by: Avi Shaked

Now, this is yet another welcomed surprise by Angel Air. Who would have thought a reformation of a classic new wave of British heavy metal band could yield such a stormy live release? But the fact is that the Tygers managed to do just that.

There is so much power and urgency here to blow most of the contemporaries away, and while the sound suffers a bit from a digitized edge to the drums and unevenly recorded vocals (which are otherwise awesome), it is highly potent and explosive.

Three high adrenaline 2004 studio tracks of re-recorded classic songs are added as bonus tracks; with the band’s 1979 single Don’t Touch Me There being given a Van Halen inspired pyrotechnical treatment.

These guys rock fast and hard, and even if you decide to skip this release, which should be just enough to please any fan of NWOBM, you should check them out live if you can. (7.25/10)

review by: Avi Shaked

The debut release by The Unheard Of is a fine drill in hard rock: a well intended immediacy that hints at early Alice in Chains as a source of inspiration, backed by a matching amount of undisputed rhythms and guitar lines that rise above the common playground and a clever use of effects (the Heil Talk guitar effect on "GRUDGEMAN" is an exception, as it does get quite annoying) which brings Corrosion of Conformity into the equation as well.

The Struggle is a clear and tightly engineered version of the nineties grunge, if you will; and though there aren’t many surprises on this one, the flamenco picking on "Beautiful," the overall well-balanced songwriting and a powerful combination of swift and delicate songs that mix Ugly Kid Joe-like frenzy delivery together with a mainstream accessibility (even if the lyrics are bent), maintain the release on a high level throughout its thirty minutes or so.

If you wish to spare yourself the friendly melodies, try Easy Action’s Friends of Rock & Roll. Otherwise, this one is a worthy pick. (7/10)

review by: Niki Stranz

Unshine is from Helsinki, Finland. Their original brand of gothic metal is spooky, at home in the shadows and the spirit world. The themes are definitely organic, filled with earthly, aural vision. I can almost smell the mushrooms and the peat in the forest watching the full moon in my leaf outfit. They are consistent in their vision and accurate in presentation by calling themselves "druid metal." Their sound is atmospheric, slow, and charged with the otherworldly vocal of Susanna Veselahti.

A fabulous singer and catalyst for this band, Veselahti has a unique vocal style that surprises the listener with accents on syncopated syllables. The band is tight and the songs are interesting and provocative. Although the mix is very listenable, most all the instrumental parts are collapsed into the background making a wash of the sound. I miss hearing those out-front parts that would normally grab you by the solar plexus and yank you around a bit. The pace of the music is very comfortable, something you could even relax to. Relaxed metal? Yes, find it here in this lovely release by Unshine. (8/10)

review by: Bastiaan de Vries

Not "fly, fly" but rather "float, float" through the galaxy at what seems a casual pace, sifting through delicate space ohms and ahs. Pushing palpable tremors of spacial frequencies through our timbre extremities. It all sounds very posh and perhaps only those with their heads up in the clouds can truly appreciate this sort of music, but I like to think that everyone with a heavy heart can sit down at night, watch the stars and lap up a Vision or two. Try it and you might be pleasantly surprised.

Thrust towards our collective cortex in bite-sized portions; unless you are truly the pop wonder then every song, none of which actually crosses the 10 minute mark, will scare you with its grandeur. Stoping the clock at almost an hour should seem like too little time to prepare and blast off in our space ships but Visions is effective and eclectic enough to bring us to the Moon, back to Earth and leave us with a content feeling in our belly. Or potbelly in my case: a wonderful round potbelly filled with pulsating and whistling sonic imagery from outer space.

Comes in a beautiful gatefold package, another fine product from the gift-wrap wonder team of Cyclic Law. A proper bargain if you ask me; no need for a rich millionaire sugar daddy to take a cosmic journey, pocket change will suffice. (7.5/10)

review by: Avi Shaked

Expectations of a reissue of Pete York’s New York’s Into the Furnace" were not high. After all, what can you expect from a 80’s effort by a band led by a drummer who rose to fame over a decade earlier due to his involvement with The Spencer Davis Group? (which is widely remembered for their hits "Keep on Running" and "Gimme Some Lovin’").

But then I played the album for the first time, and discovered a marvelous album that deserves examination on its own terms. Sure, there is still an accessible, late 60’s R&B feel in the tradition of The Spencer Davis Group to be found on some of the songs, but the foundation here is one that attacks jazz-rock from the Steely Dan direction, with a less engineered approach, hence remaining closer to the freedom of traditional jazz.

After York proves that he has the necessary chops, a convincing saxophone exhibit makes its way through the opening song, "Ways and Means," which revealing Frank Zappa influences in its sharp arrangement and humoristic approach, as well as presenting a light touch of floating keyboard playing. The next track, which is one of the few instrumentals on the album, relies on potent grooves, feeding from fusion acts such as Brand X and Weather Report. The rest of the album is equally impressive and dynamic.

The original album is expanded by three additional tracks taken from the 1981 Hardin & New York album, on which Eddie Hardin (another former Spencer Davis band member) joins the quartet; the last of which is a vibrant ode to be-bop.

A reissue of the two subsequent albums of the outfit is due early next year. I can hardly wait! (8.5/10)

review by: Avi Shaked

New Zealander Tony Koretz’s originated singer/songwriter/musician’s passion for rock music is evident throughout this release; sometimes, it’s a bit too much.

The UFO inspired "If Your Love Was a River" opens the album, and introduces the slightly degenerate production that makes this 2004 release mistakable for a lost, archival seventies recording, somewhat limited in its audio range but pure with intention.

The album continues with tracks of the same spirit in a confusing manner: a hard rocker makes its way to a blues number which makes its way to an unrealized progressive rock instrumental, and so on; this makes it quite too much for a selective, potential listener to enjoy as a whole.

But despite an eclectic treatment and a needless effort to make an impact, there is fine musicianship to be found here, honest and at times even unusual, as "Every Time It Hurts" demonstrates with its nice interplay between guitar, keyboards and saxophone (courtesy of Koretz’s brother, who also plays the drums throughout the album). (6.25/10)

review by: Avi Shaked

I bet Ian Gillan fanatics could not care less for my review. The mere knowledge of a new Gillan release would be enough for them to pick it up.

Some others, who are not collectors or Gillan-obsessed, would probably be suspicious, and so was I. Angel Air has already released a fair amount of live Ian Gillan material – including On the Rocks, from about a year earlier, and the final Gillan gig at Wembley 1982, released a month later with a very similar track list – which definitely raises the question of this release’s necessity other than to the devoted.

But as it is, this is a rocking album, with Ian Gillan coming as close to heavy metal as he has ever gotten, and this includes his groundbreaking time with Deep Purple. It is not about the musicians themselves, and surely Janick Gers remains a phenomenon when it comes to success in spite of mediocrity (how he has managed to stay in Iron Maiden for so long is beyond me); rather it is about a typically strong performance (there is a reason why Ian Gillan is a living legend) that is further ignited by the portion of the more adventurous songs of the set, starting with "Born to Kill" with its wonderful keyboard work, and ending with "No Laughing in Heaven."

The Glasgow live set is joined here by two bonus track from Germany, recorded in 1981. One of them serves as evidence to the bolder side of Gillan with its jazz-rock section, despite fading away; while the other is a ten-minute bluesy number.

Although not as creative nor as classic as Ian Gillan Band’s Live at the Budokan (which definitely benefitted from a more talented lineup), this is still a damn fine record. (7.5/10)

review by: Avi Shaked

Fabio Lentola, an Italian guitarist / writer / arranger / producer (and yes, he does all of these here), showcases his six part instrumental "Echoes from Mind," which is a seventeen minute piece from a full length release he is working on.

As a Queensryche follower, who also leads the tribute band Anarchy-X (review in our pages), his material is, as expected, in the eighties progressive metal vein, dominated by a strong sense of melody rather than by pure technical exercises (a-la Symphony X).

The piece builds up nicely, with keyboards laying a mood for the charging guitars; and while the melody remains firm and receives variations and brief intermissions of a gentler notion, there’s nothing groundbreaking here; just pleasant listening that flows quite well. (5.5/10)

review by : Roberto Martinelli

review by: Roberto Martinelli

8 Deadly Sins is our idea of a great concept album, in the sense that you wouldn’t know it was such until you looked at the track listing. Perfect. Instead of becoming mired in a clumsy, heavy handed attempt to tell a story, Danish power/prog metal band Manticora instead focus on writing songs that are powerful, engaging and highly agreeable.

Although far less thrashy, Manticora’s overdriven sound consistently reminds of Blind Guardian in the vocal syntax and backup vocal departments, with more than a few similarities in the melodic arrangements.

You could also draw some parallels to the Finnish band Celesty in that the music on Manticora’s 8 Deadly Sins is more a result of many layers working well together as opposed to a showcase of standout parts.

This is no accusation that Manticora is a copycat band to skip over. Their album is a gripping work of musicians that work harmoniously with each other to present that which is most important, a group of songs that is pleasing to the ear, with plenty of instrumental candy to get excited about. Greatly assisting the songwriting is the production, which sees the keyboards and bass providing an excellent blanket of warmth and atmosphere to the clear, massive and punchy sound. This is an album to listen to again and again. (8.3/10)

review by: Tom Orgad

UUFO is yet another member of the flourishing current of dedicated, aspiring tribute bands (guess who the object of their homage is). However, their recent CD release is not a standard one of the growing genre. No, most tribute band usually don't record concept albums. No, these albums are usually do not consist a chapter in a trilogy. And no, most tribute bands are not tribute duos.

Night Bars and Guitars is part of a series of three albums UUFO intend to release. This one focuses on the calmer rock ballads of legendary Brit hard rockers UFO. The performance of the band, even if not matching the original in quality, is usually to provide much satisfaction for the nostalgic listener: like almost every zealous followers of a classic hard rock band, most UFO fans are usually imbued with deeply sentimental feelings towards the music of their idols. Each song represents to them a different phase in life, numerous emotional situations sweeping them back to past, happy days. And for this purpose, UUFO do a splendid service: their playing always reflects a deep, hearty, loving relationship with the executed musical material.

Indeed, being a duo limits UUFO in certain facets. The numerous overdubs, as well as the mechanized drumming, makes the recording sound a bit over-sterile at times. But, as usual with this kind of band, this doesn't have much significance. Dave Burn, the group's guitar player, is an excellent, expressive performer, and whatever gap is left from the original is complemented by the listener's great love and forgiveness. Overall, a recommended experience for every fan of the band. (8/10)

review by: Roberto Martinelli

In light of our going on and on about how the new Midnight was a bitter betrayal to all Crimson Glory fans, we felt it only right to recommend an album featuring the same man whose work has been slagged in our pages.

Listening to Crimson Glory’s debut, self-titled album, it’s still impossible to believe it’s the same guy singing on the Sakada record reviewed in this issue. It’s bewildering. But the recording speaks for itself, Crimson Glory is a stellar album of mid-eighties power metal with incredible vocals that soar like few other singers can.

There are two Crimson Glory albums that are really worth getting. The second one is the follow up, Transcendence. But Crimson Glory is our favorite, namely because it’s darker and heavier, where Transcendence has a bit too much of the glam. Back in the day, Crimson Glory used to wear unexpressive silver masks that we’re pretty sure seemed ridiculous even in the eighties, but it’s the sound that counts, not the look, and this sadly underappreciated album should be in any heavy metal fan’s collection.