'An Impulse Of Compassion' (Review: Cloud Rat - Moksha, 2013)

When Cloud Rat's furious debut was unveiled to the world at large via Grindcore Karaoke a few years ago, their intense, emotionally charged interpretation of grindcore felt like a welcome breath of fresh air. Whilst keen eared listeners may have picked up on subtle crust punk and early screamo influences in their sound, there really is no other band that sounds like Cloud Rat - their subtle melodic sensibilities didn't come at the expense of outright brutality at all. The splits that followed were equally as awesome, meaning their sophomore album 'Moksha' had the pesky burden of expectation resting on it. Would the three-piece be able to maintain that same hair raising fervency?

The inevitable good news is that, yes, all those things that made you fall in love with this band first time round haven't been dulled whatsoever; Rorik still shreds out those piercing, gut-wrenchingly visceral riffs, Adrian still blasts like a video of Rob Proctor in fast-forward and Madison still sounds as though every tortured lyric is her farewell to a cruel world. The even better news is that, incredibly, they now sound even more exhilarating.

All of this is confirmed within seconds of ferocious opener 'Inkblot', as Madison reasserts herself as one of the most impassioned vocalists in grind today. There are moments throughout this record where her bitter, seething screams bring to mind Khanate's Alan Dubin in terms of sheer pant-shitting intensity, and indeed, the cryptic, hugely personal and darkly sinister poetry she's penned here easily puts her in the same league as the likes of the aforementioned Dubin and Pig Destroyer's J.R. Hayes. Of course, the two dudes behind her are no slouches either, as Rorik's riffs switch on a dime from aggressive bombast to heart-rending pathos in tracks like the massive 'Corner Space'. He also gets a chance to showcase some truly baffling fretboard acrobatics on tracks like the furious 'Caisse'. Adrian shines through on pieces like the stop-start 'Olympia', kicking out tightly controlled blasts in measures that would give your friendly neighborhood prog nerd a serious headache, as well as fist-pounding d-beats and tom rolls that'll have mohawks rocking back and forth like pendulums. Of course, Cloud Rat is more than the sum of its parts, and this trio coalesce in the most glorious way. When they're on fire, they're untouchable; just marvel at how much apocalyptic album highlight 'Vigil' genuinely sounds like the end of the world if you need proof.

There's a number of surprises here too, the first of which being the frankly beautiful 'Infinity Chasm', with sumptuous male/female vocal harmonies that are strangely reminiscent of indie minimalists Low. The staggering depth is enough to stop you in tracks, so much so that when the band do eventually kick back into grind mode it's rendered all the more devastating in context. We also get a tasteful cover of Neil Young's 'The Needle And The Damage Done', which fits perfectly with the record's aesthetic, and even manages to be one of its most haunting peaks. Finally, there's a sombre ambient outro (courtesy of Adrian's side project Found Letters), which closes the record on an introspective note, drifting off into pools of delicate, reverb splashed fuzz.

Unlike the pure aggression of many of their contemporaries, Cloud Rat invoke a myriad of different emotions (not that there's anything wrong with that approach, but variety is the spice of life, y'know?), and nowhere is that more apparent than on 'Moksha', which paints with a much broader palette than they've ever used before. In addition to the expected anger and hostility, there's moments of cathartic sadness, bittersweet nostalgia and even desperate optimism (most notably on the triumphant 'Inimitable Sea'). Cloud Rat really are a unique band, (seriously, how many grind bands could you name that could cover Neil Young and resist the urge to turn it into a flat-out Anal Cunt style parody? I know I couldn't!)  and 'Moksha' is perhaps their most powerful statement thus far. Regardless of genre, this is certainly one of 2013's most essential records, and deserves a place in any music lover's collection. - Kez Whelan

Facebook

Halo of Flies

The Great Southern Buzzkill (Review: Koresh - Chump, 2013)

It's a testament to how varied the world of extreme metal has become when even a descriptive term as nuanced as 'sludge' has come to mean entirely different things to different people. Take London based riff merchants Koresh's latest for example; a release that falls firmly in the sludge category, and yet anyone expecting hour long dirges will likely come away disappointed. If, on the other hand, you've been on the hunt for a collection of filthy, Sabbath infused punk songs about Terry Wogan (and I'm pretty sure that's what I've been searching for my whole life, I just didn't know it yet), then you're in luck! Koresh's sound borrows from all the great sludge luminaries (you know the score by now, Eyehategod, Iron Monkey, Buzzoven, all that good stuff), but ramps up the speed, resulting in a furious blast of down-tuned nastiness.

The disjointed, lurching grooves of 'Bin Juice' are pretty damn irresistible, whilst the aforementioned 'Wogan' sounds like a bunch of meth fiends fumbling their way through 'Electric Funeral' (in the best possible way, of course) and the supremely titled 'Adolf Hipster' wouldn't sound out of place on a later Black Flag record. In fact, the closest they get to that standard sludge dirge is on 'Cheer Up Glasgow', but even then their tongue remains firmly in cheek!

These guys fit right into that lineage of filthy, punked up sludge that the UK seems to do so well. Indeed, with their dual vocal approach and heavy punk influence, it's tempting to view them as spiritual successors to Nottingham sludge heroes Bumsnogger, and anyone who dug that band's lairy, booze soaked take on the genre will also find much to enjoy here. There's a subtle noise rock influence at play here too, most noticeable in the massive sounding closer 'You Can Call Me Gaahl', but it also manifests itself in a number of quirky, weird riffs that occasionally shine out from between the sludgy murk (check out that bizarre, jazzy little break in the midst of opener 'Straight Edge Till Midnight'.)

There's also a strong sense of good ol' fashioned, hard rocking fun; if Eyehategod are the sound of the worst comedown you've ever had, then Koresh are surely the delirious sense of intoxicated jubilation that followed the night before. Koresh may not set the world alight, but they're a fine addition to the already impressive Witch Hunter Records roster - plus they're sure to absolutely destroy any venues they hit in support of this EP, and ultimately, isn't that what really matters? - Kez Whelan

Facebook

Witch Hunter Records

Girls That Grind: Part 10

It seems Alex enjoyed my last doom-laden contribution to the Girls That Grind column so much, he's allowed me to ramble on about what's been aiding me in my quest for absolute tinnitus yet again! You might think that a column dedicated to praising the feminine contributions to extreme metal is somewhat redundant in the supposedly egalitarian year of 2013, but then, you're one of the good ones; it's consistently baffling how prevalent the ignorances championed by misogyny have become, even in this day and age. So without further ado, here are three doom bands you really need in your life right now...

Finnish trio Horse Latitudes are one of the most bizarre doom outfits I've heard in recent years, opting to dispense with the standard six string accompaniment in favour of maximum bass fury, smothered in effects and tuned way down low. The dueling basses of Heidi and Vellu create a deliciously thick smog, allowing drummer Harri to alternate between a psychotic throat-shredding rasp and a mournful croon that sails across the band's dense sound.

It's not the choice of instrumentation that makes Horse Latitudes so peculiar however, but the truly deranged atmosphere that they manage to summon, mutating the traditional doom sound into an entirely new beast. At times they sound a bit like fellow countrymen Reverend Bizarre - well, how Reverend Bizarre might sound if you'd locked them in a dank, lightless cellar and fed them on nothing but coal and ayahuasca for several months, that is. The band is definitely indebted to that classic first wave of doom bands that followed in Sabbath's wake, but there's something else at play here - something quite sinister indeed. Make no mistake, this isn't your standard Candlemass tribute act we're dealing with here!

The band self-released a pretty damn solid demo back in 2010, and followed it up with their extremely strong debut 'Gathering', a disorientating combination of bass feedback, decelerated Celtic Frost riffs and vintage doom songcraft. Last year saw quite a lot of activity too, as splits with Loinen and the mighty Hooded Menace saw the light of the day alongside the band's sophomore record 'Awakening' on Doomentia Records, an even more refined take on their quirky sound. It's not often you encounter a band that sounds as seriously unhinged as Horse Latitudes do whilst still managing to tip their hat to the genre's forefathers so exquisitely. This is crazy mindfuck doom at it's finest, and trad doom fans with an open ear for experimentation are going to lap this up.

Facebook

Samothrace really stand on their own, conjuring quite a distinct vibe that I've never really heard from any other band. Even at their most achingly slow, the atmosphere is so thick you could cut out a slice and sink a modestly sized vessel with it. Sure, lots of bands sound melancholy, but there's a strangely jubilant undertone at play here too, and a richness of sound and texture that belies their relatively short time together as a band. The interplay between vocalist Brian Spinks and Renata Castagna's guitars plays a large part in creating this sonic presence, with the pair bouncing immeasurable, droning riffs and, occasionally, stirring melodic leads off against each other as bassist Dylan Desmond unleashes some spectacularly weighty grooves, and drummer Joe Axler holds the whole thing together with his reserved, understated cymbal splashes (a far-cry from his blistering blast work with the likes of Skarp, Splatterhouse and Book of Black Earth).

After a frankly stunning demo in 2007, their debut 'Life's Trade' didn't disappoint one iota, containing four mammoth pieces that felt even more expansive and gripping than the awe inspiringly well-constructed tracks they'd unleashed previously. After an agonizing wait between albums, they recently put out a new full-length on 20 Buck Spin, containing one re-recorded demo track and the new opus, 'A Horse Of Our Own', which could well be their most stunning piece so far. Breath-taking in scope, the 20 minute odyssey covers a lot of ground, ranging from the absolutely crushing to the sublimely beautiful, with delicate bluesy licks spiralling out of the aether amidst floods of sultry chords. It's kind of like sitting out on a picturesque porch in an old rocking chair and watching the Sun slowly collide into the Earth, obliterating your surroundings and turning all your cherished memories into dust, but leaving you with a warm, emphatic glow nonetheless.

If you dig the cathartic soundscapes of bands like Thou and Neurosis, then this band is going to take over your life. With a unique and genuinely enveloping sound, Samothrace truly are riding 'A Horse Of Their Own' at the moment, if you'll excuse the atrocious excuse for a pun. Ahem, moving on...

Facebook

Nottingham two-piece Bismuth have been described as "like Stonehenge, but music", which should tell you all need to know quite frankly. If you're unfamiliar with Wiltshire's most recognisable group of stones however, then you should expect something enormous, vaguely mystical, largely unexplainable and inconceivably heavy. Taking their cues from the torturous doom of Khanate and Burning Witch, but injecting it with a lethal dose of good old fashioned British misery, their sound is stark, ominous and has such a weighty physical presence that you could probably reach out and touch it.

Their only release so far, 'The Eternal Marshes' is a 16 minute long experience that will likely damage you for the rest of your life. Joe Rawlings' subtle, expressive drumming provides a solid plinth for Tanya Byrne's seismic bass emanations, terrifying screams and eerie chants, and the results are pretty damn startling indeed. Their sense of dynamics is great, and the pair never feel as though they're just wailing on the same note indefinitely for the sake of it; the track has a clear purpose and never meanders into monotony, remaining both imposing and mesmerizing for the duration. In fact, the 16 minutes seem to pass by all too quickly, but I guess time flies when you're having your ribcage broken by tremendous waves of impending doom.

Unsurprisingly for a release of this quality, the tape has now sold out, but you can still download it through their Bandcamp page, which you should do immediately if you're the faintest bit interested in the slower side of music. Proceed with caution however; much like Stonehenge's towering obelisks, there are some riffs on this thing that could absolutely flatten you if you're not careful.

Facebook

The Final Frontier (Review: Dead Neanderthals - Polaris)

Of all the first wave of bands that Grindcore Karaoke brought to our attention a couple of years ago, Dead Neanderthals have certainly been the most consistently surprising in their approach. With a blatant disregard for generic confines, their last record, the pulverising 'Jazzhammer / Stormannsgalskap', was one of the most bold and distinctive sounding albums of the year, leaving grind fans, jazz nerds and noise enthusiasts alike with their mouths agape and with but one question on their collective lips; "where do we go from here?"

In true Neanderthals style, their latest, 'Polaris', throws us yet another curve ball, as the band dispense with the arsenal of pedals and effects that had helped make 'Jazzhammer...' such an all-encompassing aural mindfuck, leaving us with the live, minimalistic sound of acoustic sax and drums. This is Dead Neanderthals at their most organic and immediate, but definitely feels like the beginning of a new chapter rather than any kind of "return to their roots" or some such - with most of the grind and noise influences that informed their previous works shorn away, ‘Polaris’ is easily the duo’s jazziest offering to date. Of course, Dead Neanderthals have never refrained from wearing their jazz influences proudly on their sleeves, but this is a record that shares more common ground with ‘Free Jazz’ era Ornette Coleman or latter John Coltrane than it does, say, Napalm Death or Repulsion.

Given its stripped down nature, 'Polaris' is a surprisingly diverse record - it’s immediately striking just how adept this pair have become with their chosen instruments. Rene eases off on the straight blastbeats somewhat this time around, propelling each song forward with loose but compellingly urgent rhythms, inventive timings and moments of red hot, mind bending jazz explosions, whilst Otto has truly come into his own. The influence of such avant-sax maestros like John Zorn and Peter Brötzmann are still evident (the Zorn worship reaches its apex at track 4, a brief blast of belligerent sax bleats, fittingly named after Naked City / Boredoms frontman Yamatsuka Eye), but Otto’s distinctive style is blossoming into something truly unique. Ranging from the frantic skronk of ‘The Pit’ to the luscious, cascading tones of melodious closer ‘Yolk’, the band seem to be painting with a much broader palette than they’ve ever used before, evoking numerous different shades of light and dark with a startling lucidity. Take ‘Knot’ for example, a track which veers between a claustrophobic onslaught of squealing sax flares and what sounds like a drum kit falling down a small flight of stairs to passages of total silence, occasionally punctuated by subtle, sombre vibrations from each instrument.

Reducing their sound down to its most acoustically pure was a bold move, especially after the unrelenting sonic bludgeoning that was ‘Jazzhammer...’, but it has certainly paid off; whilst starker and more understated than its predecessor, ‘Polaris’ is no less of an uncompromising and defiant statement. Whereas the pent up, concentrated physicality of ‘Jazzhammer...’ sought to pummel your brain into a slimy pink paste, ‘Polaris’' airy, schizophrenic compositions seek to steadily unravel your grey matter instead, tying it up into all kinds of baffling shapes along the way. Whilst it may alienate those of you with a particularly low jazz tolerance, there’s no doubt that this is the duo’s most confident, spacious offering to date. Highly recommended!

'Polaris' will be out on March 22nd via Utech Records. You can visit Dead Neanderthals' website for more information.

The Whole Five Inches (Review: Noothgrush / Suppression Split)

Well, well, well, what do we have here? A forgotten relic from the golden days of late 90’s powerviolence, finally unearthed and distributed on a dainty little 5” disc (the needle drop for this one is an operation that requires military precision – kids, don’t try this without an adult present!) by the fine folk at Fuck Yoga Records.

Let’s not beat around the bush - “Flee From Hunger And Disease” is classic Noothgrush. This track was recently exhumed on ‘Live for Nothing’, the band’s Southern Lord issued live compilation, but this is the first time its studio counterpart has been unleashed on the general public – and what a beauty it is! Every slow, punishing note is imbued with that crippling weight and unmistakeable sense of malice that has always marked this band out as one of sludge’s finest practitioners, who are somehow able to sound enormously energetic even whilst churning away on the most lethargic of sluggers. The song ends with the trio riding one of those gloriously fucked up but boldly groovy trademark riffs into a fade out that always leaves me clamouring for more!

I’ll ‘fess up that I was totally unfamiliar with Suppression before hearing this split; needless to say, I’d be kicking my own arse right now if these guys hadn’t just beaten me to it and blasted my posterior into a bloody pulp. These guys sound pissed, not in the sense of “hey, let’s down a few beers with our buddies and play some fast tunes” pissed, but the kind of “I haven’t eaten in days, I’ve just been laid off, my house has burnt down, and slamming on these six strings is the only thing stopping me from going postal and wiping out as much of the world’s population as I possibly can” pissed that few bands are able to function under. After a quick bit of brain cell rearranging noise, the aptly titled “Amputated Brain Stem” bursts out of nowhere and absolutely destroys all in its path. This song has floored me every time I’ve spun it, and is a strong contender for the nastiest, most righteous slab of powerviolence I’ve heard this year. Considering said tune barely reaches the 40 second mark, that’s quite an accomplishment!

Don’t baulk at the size, as this is no mere novelty record. The short running time may be an enormous tease, but both these bands are on the top of their game here, and it would have been a most heinous crime if this tantalising morsel had been lost in the mists of time forever. It’s not every day a release boasts the best of sludge, noise and powerviolence and then delivers all that and more in the space of three minutes, and for that reason alone this little beauty deserves a cherished space in your collection.

Noothgrush Facebook

Suppression Facebook

Fuck Yoga Records Website

Grindcore Karaoke Download