Leviathan's Desire has another of those evocative covers where you've got this dad-bod troll or goblin hanging out at at some sort of bathhouse in an evil castle, incense pouring out of a jeweled goblet nearby, and then for whatever reason some ugly cat or wolf or something leaping up behind the title. It's absolutely ridiculous and yet intriguing because it reminds us that Protector must be evil nerds, kind of like Tankard with the drunken alien mascot on so many of their efforts. This is a shorter clocking EP than Misanthropy from 1987, includes one extended version of a tune from that ("Kain & Abel"), and then a trio of newer tracks. I believe that there's also another version where you are getting more of Misanthropy included as a bonus, and that would ramp up the value a little, but here it's just the basic intro + four.
Right away, the new material sounds more scathing and sinister than on Urm the Mad, like a volatile and ballistic parallel to Sodom in the later half of the 80s, only maintaining the growls from that last full-length. Only this time, it's a new vocalist, Olly Wiebel, taking them into an even more carnal direction than Martin Missy had; he's also got more of that snarl and guttural exchange, not to the extent of Glen Benton or Carcass, but it helps keep this material sounding deadly. The riffs are far from exceptional, but they buzz and bludgeon along with more confidence than they had on the last outing, and the drums and bass anchor down and control all the intensity. You really feel like you're on a knife's edge with a "Mortal Passion" or "Subordinate", they are rooted it some of that vicious thrash circa Darkness Descends or Bonded by Blood, only more Sodom-like in note choices. The lead guitars are really messy and zippy throughout, but help capture that reckless atmosphere which is really the goal. And for those who want to headbang, they trot out some of those mid-paced sequences for you to strain your neck, and you really feel them against the faster sequences.
As for "Kain & Abel", this is almost two minutes longer and Olly's vocals make it feel more fresh and vile, although clearly not as Teutonic or thrashy as Martin's originals. I don't know that this was in any way necessary over including another new tune, but it does sound good and streamlined with this other material and assumedly future direction. All told, Leviathan's Desire is a treat for the 15 or so minutes it exists, content with tearing your face off and then eating it before a good scented bath. For 1990 it also felt fairly orthodox since so many other genre bands were trying to evolve towards the soon-shifting landscape. This is pretty much 1986-1987 all over again with few bells or whistles.
Verdict: Win [7.5/10] (The burnt magicians prophecy)
Showing posts with label 1990. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1990. Show all posts
Thursday, January 8, 2026
Protector - Leviathan's Desire EP (1990)
Thursday, February 8, 2024
Megadeth - Rust in Peace (1990)
When I often think of my favorite bands or albums, I notice a prevailing thread that runs through them; they've each created their own 'language' or musical voice that is entirely distinct and capable of being picked out from a lineup of peers. Sometimes this runs the course of their entire career, for example Voivod, a band that has maintained its unique, alien nature throughout numerous stylistic shifts, or others like Enslaved and Borknagar, who have kept their Viking philosophies through the black metal roots into more progressive or folk leanings. Other times it's down to a single record...for instance, Artillery's By Inheritance, with its charging, fraternal, melodic thrashing interchange which might have its DNA in the earlier records, but hasn't quite been replicated since, or Deathrow's brilliant Deception Ignored, totally standout even against the rest of their discography, a cautionary, clinical, consistent orchestra of technical thrash.
Rust in Peace is the point at which Megadeth mastered its own 'language'. Killing is My Business... was the equivalent of cave paintings, Peace Sells... started refining that onto written scrolls, but it was 1990 when the speed metal monks started transcribing it into a complete text, one as timeless as the Bible for any hesher in the congregation. I know several individuals who consider this the greatest metal album of all time, and while I might not go that far, it's difficult to pose an argument. 39 of its 41 minutes are total thrash perfection, taking all the techniques and ambition of its predecessors to new heights of riff quality, melody and musicianship. This is especially poignant as a contrast to So Far, So Good, So What!, an album that certainly had its moments, but felt misguided and transitional, where Rust in Peace moves in almost complete lockstep. Part of this is the roster quality, as Nick Menza and shred god Marty Friedman joined the ranks, creating what is even today considered the band's premiere lineup, along with the two Daves who have proven here that they are both incredible writers and players that rivaled anyone in the genre at this point.
The result: magnificence. Skip a rock across the heads of the rock radio-fed masses in your vicinity, and you'll strike quite a few people who know the epic "Holy Wars...The Punishment Due" or the more accessible, Roswell tribute "Hangar 18", but Rust in Peace is an incredibly deep record with amazing hooks and interesting lyrical fare. The speed and precision of the licks are on a new plateau, but there's always a lot of melody and emotion, explosive and complex chorus sequences in tunes like "Tornado of Souls" or "Five Magics". Dave's vocals are at a career high, and he manages to balance off some of that sneering attitude ("Rust in Peace...Polaris") with a little vulnerability. While the thrashing edge of the material is fully fresh for its time, even so late in the trending niche as 1990 was, there's always a pretty direct lineage to the classic British heavy/speed metal like the breakout riff in "Poison Was the Cure" which reminds me of groups like Satan, just taken to a new level (for the time, anyway). Or the burning grooves in the verse to "Lucretia". Tradition tempered with progression, packed with new ideas, or stretching older ideas to their limits.
The playing is out of control, and yet entirely under control, with so many notes flying around in cuts like "Holy Wars..." or "Take No Prisoners" that you could get dizzy. And I did. Melodic and mean at the same time, I remember sitting in stunned silence trying to emulate as many of the riffs as I could back in my teens when I was only about 3-4 years into playing the guitar myself. It's no wonder that this became such a guitar hero album, worshiped in countless magazines. Add to this some of the best bass playing on any metal album in history, complementing the Mustaine/Friedman interchange with ease, and often standing ABOVE them, and Nick Menza's performance which was taut and flexible, but also knew not to try and challenge the incredible guitar work flying above it. Another point I'd make is that the leads here were far superior to the three albums before it, they were finally becoming the sorts of earworms that could match the rhythms and become a pleasure to listen to on their own. Production is also a highlight...Rust in Peace does not sound a day older to me now than when I first heard it. Clean, vivacious, youthful, but still anchored by a steady low-end that still thumps in my speakers.
Now it's not a popular opinion, but the one thing that holds this record back from perfection for me is "Dawn Patrol", a sort of spoken/whispered word piece over some fat bass lines and a beat. It's not that the band is goofing off, there's a serious message here, and Ellefson's bass is pretty good, but I just don't think it really goes anywhere, and seems rather abrupt and out of place. Whereas the amazing bass intro to "Poison Was the Cure" really offers a lot of payoff once the guitars arrive, this one doesn't, and I've often taken "Dawn Patrol" off my playlist in iTunes and gone straight from "Tornado of Souls" into the finale title track and then it all felt 100%. Again, there's nothing terribly wrong with it, but I think it would have been stronger as an intro for a full-length track, maybe on a later album. As it stands it's just a little bit of a scuff on the otherwise flawless paint-job that is Rust in Peace, their most iconic, and my favorite Megadeth album. The one that goes with me to the desert island, although I'd probably wait until the last minute before I bailed out Peace Sells.... You don't need me to tell you how fucking awesome this album is, it's the most fluent in a tongue which has been fairly muddled ever since.
Verdict: Epic Win [9.75/10] (to slay all the giants)
https://www.megadeth.com/
Tuesday, January 2, 2024
Annihilator - Never, Neverland (1990)
Never, Neverland is simultaneously the definition of the dependable sophomore album and the last time I can really remember enjoying any of Annihilator's output to the point that it was a staple in my monthly listening in High School. This would have been the sort of album I kept in regular rotation on the Walkman as I was delivering newspapers to the neighbors, packed with good riffs and songs capable of delivering hooks and chorus parts that made me bang my head more than smirk. There was already the sense that this effort was more 'nuts & bolts' than its predecessor Alice in Hell, and it doesn't quite reach the same lofty heights, but it is a veritable riff-fest for Jeff Waters and was one I could listen to without skipping ALMOST anything (more on that later), if only because that guitar is just so good throughout most of the 44 minute runtime.
On the other hand, it's already showing the first chinks in the Canadians' armor, as the vocalist Randy Rampage from the debut has already been replaced by Coburn Pharr, an 80s hopeful that had a little experience with Prisoner's Rip It Up and Omen's divisive fourth full-length Escape to Nowhere (yeah, the one with the sexy cover but the WTF? music if you'd listened to their earlier output). Pharr has a fairly distinct voice that makes me regret he wasn't around for more records. It's a bit smoky and has its best bite in the mid-range, making it a better fit for thrash than whatever his previous band was attempting, but he can also hit a few higher screams when needed. In fact, his presence here reminds me of when Steve Grimmett was recruited to Onslaught and also surprised me with how well his timbre adapted to the harder hitting music, still keeping that blue collar thrash appeal without going too far over the top. When Pharr does bark out a few goofier lines, trying to sound more maniacal or menacing in tracks like "The Fun Palace", it comes off a bit corny, but in general he delivers, if not at the same level of wild charisma as his predecessor.
There's also a tune here which might have looked good on paper, but in practice has not endured the test of time, and that would be "Kraf Dinner". Look, I eat it, I love it, many of us probably love it, but the lyrics are fucking awful and Coburn sounds extremely silly singing them, and it's a gut punch to an otherwise seamless solid thrashing despite the fact that it's actual music is passable speed metal with a bit of a bluesy blitz to it. 'Macaroni maniac/a cheddar cheese heart attack'? I mean I'm sure this seemed genuinely funny for the guys at the time, many starving metal bands have thrived off the mass-produced pasta, but it just seems ridiculous to me 30+ years later. At least they weren't shoehorning a funk track onto the end and telling me 'Don't just be a metal dude' like some of their thrashing peers from Arizona. If this were removed from the track list, though, I think Never, Neverland would be a more potent, consistent experience.
And speaking of that, what this record DOES have in common with the debut is the dependable drumming of Ray Hartmann and then Jeff Waters flying all over the place with a myriad of tasty riffs and even tastier leads. Even some of the later buried tracks like "Phantasmagoria" have noodly earworms lying in wait to ambush you, and tunes like the opener "The Fun Palace" nearly measure up to "Alison Hell" with some killer melodies and structure. The bass is pretty decent but seems to just hover in the background of the rhythm guitar more often throughout this one, where I remember digging the lines a lot more on the debut, but it hardly distracts me when I'm listening through this one. Glen Robinson's production is pretty spot-on, clean and snappy but still vital and energetic in how it captures the unhinged talents of the band's superstar talent. Never, Neverland is pretty damn fun to revisit, "Kraf Dinner" aside, perhaps even more than when I used to listen to it back in the Age of Acne. If I were to introduce their sound to someone, it was always "Alison Hell" first, but ultimately, this wasn't much of a disappointment when I bought it on release day, and it still holds its own.
Verdict: Win [8/10] (Colors now decay)
https://www.annihilatormetal.com/
Wednesday, May 19, 2021
Rage - Reflections of a Shadow (1990)
It would have been a terribly tall task to write a follow-up to Secrets in a Weird World and Perfect Man that could match them track for track, so Peavy Wagner and Rage just settled in to do what they do best...write a bunch of songs, and once again I was quite impressed with the results. The album doesn't look like much on the cover, but then, neither did the commercial release of Secrets over here. Strangely, the album kind of sounds like it looks, this is a more measured, mellow Rage that can still release the Kraken when necessary, but chooses here to attempt a more diverse slate of songs that are moodier, with a lot of tempos and riffs that felt pretty fresh even compared to their first four CD. Reflections of a Shadow is for me a closure to that 80s decade of excellence, perhaps the end of the streak of 'mandatory' early albums that I always revisit, but like its year of release might imply, the writing heavily insinuates that the band was ready to try new things for a new age, reinvent itself whenever needed without losing touch of its original identity.
This one has a nice, moody intro with brooding ambient synths and acoustics that leads into quite a contrast with the hooky, mid-paced and groovy "That's Human Bondage", which at least reveals to us that Peavy's screaming personality was well-intact, he hadn't run out of juice on the miraculous albums before it. The riffs are still ambitious and unique sounding, and the production doesn't sound all that different than on Secrets, its just that the cuts are a little more melancholic and almost depressed sounding than the joygasmic speed, riffing and chorus work before it. Take songs like "True Face in Everyone" or "Flowers That Fade in My Hand", they're more progressively paced, structured and simply go to places Rage hadn't really gone before, with awesome bass-work, judicious but tasteful use of synthesizers, and riffs that have to learn to titillate you with slower guitar patterns and more mixed cleans and electrics. Fortunately, this is not ALL the record has to offer, and you get scorchers like the title track, the crazy "Can't Let Go" and the INSANELY catchy "Waiting for the Moon", which should have honestly been a more popular breakout track for them on MTV...it's metal, but has a hard rock edge to it that reminds me of Zakk Wylde-era Ozzy Osbourne, which initially I loved on No Rest for the Wicked. That chorus totally kicks ass, and I'm not exaggerating when I say I think Manni Schmidt could play right alongside with most of the Prince of Darkness' axe heroes.
"Saddle the Wind" is another catchy fast-paced tune, but the back half of this album is full or more sweltering, slower numbers like "Faith" and "Dust" where the band is keeping its pace to try and clout you with a lot more emotion than you might expect. The metal is still being threaded through all of these, with some righteous leads, lots of guitar effects and the same superior writing tear they'd been on since the mid-80s, but again there are more clean parts, Peavy does lower pitched singing for the verses, and you get some organs and other ingredients that almost give some of these a power ballad/rock opera feel. I also like that it swings back into a heavy, driving anthem "Nobody Knows" for the finale, which is a tune that would have fit right in on Secrets in a Weird World. Overall, it's a bit dimmer and more weather-worn sounding than the albums leading up to it, but these Reflections just don't go away, no matter how many years come along and try to dilute the waters. This is another gem on the crown of a band which has sat underappreciated for far, far too fucking long, among the not-so-secret-kings of that massive German scene whose steel has barely dulled in decades.
Verdict: Epic Win [9/10]
Monday, May 11, 2020
Prong - Beg to Differ (1990)
Guided by its iconic Pushead image, this record marked the band's major label signing to Epic, which likely had something to do with the cleaning up of their sound. This one's slick and accessible, rather than rollicking in the grating, grimy crunch and atmosphere of its predecessor. I reckon this was considered a bit of a 'thinking man's' thrash album at the time, at least among other fans I knew, not because it was highly technical or challenging, but because it honed in on a stricter sense of groove and rhythm, almost subliminal patterns emerging through the compartmental thrashing in tunes like the title track, and its extremely simple but effective riffing; the mellow chugs of "Your Fear" which lift into that great little guitar lick behind Tommy's vocals in the verses; the great "Intermenstrual, D.S.B" which at times reminded me the most of an instrumental that would have fit right in with Force Fed if only it were noisier; or the almost mantra-inducing creep of "Prime Cut", which is one of my favorite tracks in the band's catalog. In addition to his really interesting guitars, Victor also expands himself here as a vocalist with some more subdued whispers, a slightly more melodic tint to his inflection, although there are plenty of the good old grunts here to maintain the aggression.
There are still some fist-pumping thrash anthems here, like the opener "For Dear Life", but even there this new direction is apparent in some of the vocalizations and rhythmic choices. The other 2/3rds of the tiro, Kirkland and Parsons, sounded great here also, again...not too flashily proficient, but the solid bass tone and almost tribal fills and rhythms make the perfect accompaniment to the thin punch of the guitar tone and the bluntness of the vocals. A couple of transitions here or there feel a bit jarring and just seem like a rush to get a new riff going, but honestly the whole album is consistent in that there's rarely a track where some progression didn't get my lustrous teenage locks flailing around in the air, and I still feel the push and pull of its mechanisms in follically challenged geezerhood. The lyrics and minimalist but insightful, often abstracting away from their subject matter where other Eastern Seaboard thrashers of this age were hitting things right on the nose (you don't accuse Nuclear Assault or Overkill of any subtlety). In truth Beg to Differ is just as distinct as the debut, if not quite as excellent, and it's still a great example of a band trying to write its own language out of a musical trend; not to the extent of a Voivod, but certainly in that ballpark of distinctiveness. It's also the establishing shot for their more mechanical albums to come through the 90s.
Verdict: Win [8.25/10] (be true to our grudges)
https://prongmusic.com/
Friday, February 15, 2019
Deathcore - Spontaneous Underground (1990)
Deathcore actually draws on a number of influences, from the grinding Earache outlets up north of them in Britain, to the crossover thrash endemic to the US West Coat circa D.R.I., Cryptic Slaughter, and The Accused; you might even hear a little S.O.D. in a particular breakdown or two where the band pulls on its splattery reins for a couple bars. Loads of rehashed punk riffs sped up to a junkie pace, and then splayed out with other sections into longer-than-expected tracks. Spontaneous Underground is a long, long damn album for its style, clocking in at over 52 minutes, with tracks ranging from five seconds to over seven minutes in length, a few clicks of a beat and some chords to 'epics' that are constantly shifting around all over the entire riffing and tempo palette of the band. To be honest, that's not saying a lot, because I swear there are a hell of a lot of riffs on this album and almost all of them are the most insipid, forgettable sort that don't seem as if they took more than actually applying your palm and fingers to your guitar to create.
Looking for any sort of interesting progression of chords? Seek elsewhere, the only time you might be surprised at all here is when the guitarist throws out a noisy little spontaneous noodle or weird indie rock riff ("Dolphin Instinct") which feels more like a mistake than anything else. The vocals and lo-fi nature of the recording definitely save it some punk cred, since they have that timeless, earnest, amateur quality about them which we venerate on a lot of early punk and hardcore recordings. But man, when you consider just how much material this band is tossing your way, it's a damn shame that so little of it actually sticks. The loose fills and cadence of the drums, the splatter-style vocals set at various levels of shouts, screams and saturation, and the unfortunately-rebranded band moniker are all things that widely outlived the actual guitars and songs, and that's sadly just not what I seek out in a record like this. That said, it's mildly interesting in its obscurity for being on a label that would go on to explode as much as this one; and not terrible if you dig the DIY mentality usually associated with its style.
Verdict: Indifference [6/10]
Tuesday, May 8, 2018
Exhorder - Slaughter in the Vatican (1990)
I am not among these, because frankly, try as I might, I don't feel any stronger about this album now than I did back when it initially dropped. There are certainly some technical aspects to Slaughter in the Vatican that I admire. This was forceful, energetic thrash, much heavier than what the more popular bands were pulling off, very much in league with a Dark Angel or Sadus. There are loads of riffs, and enough variety to pad out substantial 5-6 minute tracks without resort to banal repetition. And then of course there's the 'charismatic' and unique vocal style which Kyle Thomas brought to the table, known as a massive influence upon Pantera's Phil Anselmo who, when shifting away from his 80s power metal screaming, really popularized this style of Southern swagger and tough guy oomph. And while I've seen this debated often, I think it's rather obvious...listen to Pantera while Exhorder were releasing their demos. Listen to Pantera once they made the shift to Cowboys from Hell, and got the drop on this debut. He's absolutely been 'touched' by what he heard from his Nola friends. Not to the point where it's a complete copy, and in fact I thought Anselmo did a better job wrenching some attitude and emotion from the style, as the band's success would attest, but there it is. I'd also say that some of the thicker grooves used by the Texans were inspired by particular Exhorder riffs, but ultimately Dimebag was a more dynamic and distinct player than Labella or Ceravolo here.
And about those riffs...well, they're one of the primary reasons I've never been feeling this. All the guitar parts in general, as hammering and proficient as they are played, sounded like a rather generic hodgepodge of material that bands like Exodus, Dark Angel, Sacred Reich, Sepultura and Devastation had already unleashed upon the populace. Don't get me wrong, they are dextrous and intricate enough to exhibit that more thought had been placed into them than your garden variety Metallica clones gigging at high school talent shows, but I'll be damned if not a single one of the considerably huge array of guitar riffs on Slaughter in the Vatican stick with me for even five minutes. Whether bursting out into faster material or the denser, groove/thrash in verses to tunes like "Desecrator" (a song Pantera was clearly fond of), I just get bored hearing it again. Even when some small pattern of notes begins to align with the aural pleasure centers of my being, they'll switch it off into something else less interesting. Add to that the relative lack of good bass lines, since the very notion of that instrument seemed like an afterthought that the guitarists just played themselves, and not an independent voice that might add a little swerve and meat to the propulsive palm muting. It's frustrating, because these gentlemen could. fucking. play. Just nothing that memorable, and all the leads also feel pretty skimpy or throwaway.
The drums anchor down the belligerent pacing and muscle of the rhythm guitars rather well, but they lead me to another of my issues here...even as a teen, I could tell this was a Scott Burns mix without needing to read it in the booklet. And Burns is a guy I found very inconsistent. He's done some albums I truly love, and others which almost feel muffled and neutered by his presence (Sepultura's Arise and the first couple Deicide discs come to mind). I get that he was sort of the 'house engineer' for a lot of the Roadrunner/RC classics, and he absolutely knocked a few of them out of the park, but I just don't like some of the mix or the guitar tones he gets on albums like this one. They feel too subdued and compressed. Slaughter is not an egregiously bad example of this, but it's enough of a factor that my old cassette gathered a lot of dust until. Lastly, as much as I can appreciate Kyle's style and influence, I just wan't too into the inflection of the vocals here. Their delivery was not unfamiliar to me (I owned Cowboys from Hell already), and there's a charisma to them that a lot of run of the mill thrashers lacked, but they're about 50/50 in effectiveness for me, whereas his protegee was superior at making them seem enormous and angry, like a school bully about to pop you one on the nose. Some of the lyrics are passable, like "The Tragic Period" about Edgar Allen Poe... EXCEPT for the stupid "Anal Slut", which is beyond awful, and it creates a bit of an obnoxious aesthetic disparity to be leaping back and forth between the two on the same album.
Ultimately, going back to Slaughter in the Vatican for another round didn't yield to me the sort of cult classic that I've seen so much fawning over. It's just nothing I'd queue up when I've got so many other options I prefer. That said, it's also not an album I can find a lot to mock or complain about...apart from lyrics like "Fuck your brains out/squeeze your tits/blood on your thighs/virginity dies" which seem like a budding bucktoothed parallel to Cannibal Corpse, but unwilling to go the brutal distance. "Lust/anal lust/up the butt/lousy slut". Oh, the BUTT. I thought yous guys was referring to that other kind of anal. Sodomy overture aside, this is a competent debut, with no effort spared, that simply doesn't click with me. Accomplished, practiced mediocrity which doesn't yield even a single song I need to hear again.
Verdict: Indifference [5.75/10] (consumed by overconfident assumptions)
https://www.facebook.com/ExhorderNOLA/
Sunday, March 25, 2018
Vio-Lence - Oppressing the Masses (1990)
I had long harbored the memory that this was a very front-loaded record in terms of where its most memorable tracks lie, and I think that remained the case when revisiting it, with two of my favorite tracks ("I Profit" and "Officer Nice") heading it off, while only "World in a World" was on the latter half of the track list, but in truth this is quite a consistent 40-ish minutes of psychotic, pummeling thrash which doesn't have a lot of fat to trim, even if a few tunes like "Mentally Afflicted" or "Liquid Courage" get a little harder for me to recall when I'm not actively listening. The production here, both visual and auditory, reminds me a bit of another Bay Area thrash icon signed to Atlantic; Testament, in particular their third effort Practice What You Preach. Simple but effective cover image with a bunch of similar figures, a pronounced (and welcome) bass tone that popped right out of the mix, and a slightly comparable feel to the guitars. Of course, both of these albums were produced and recorded by Alex Perialas, also involved with Overkill's Under the Influence. which I would put in the same category due to the vocals and bass. Perialas definitely had a particular approach to thrash albums of this era which could draw out clarity and musicianship without sacrificing intensity, and while I myself prefer the guitars tones and energy of Eternal Nightmare, this definitely felt like a natural pairing which served to the strengths of its successor.
Perry Strickland's drumming in particular seemed more ballistic here than on the debut, with some techniques in there that could nearly place him in the company of a Lombardo or Hoglan. Crazy, muscular fills machine gunned all over the place, but never too invasive to the guitars, and some speed and footwork that left the impression that Vio-lence was well aware of the death metal emergence with which it would have to compete. Dean Dell's bass sounds great, bobbing and weaving a framework for the rhythms and leads, but remaining subdued when necessary. The actual riffs themselves compare favorably to the debut, perhaps not as catchy on an individual basis, but molded from a similar vision, getting a fraction more melodic, clinical and technical but not to the extent that this felt like a large progression from Eternal Nightmare. No, it's a natural follow-up with just enough ideas to encompass a two-year gulf in which the band was gigging and making a name for itself in a crowd of so many others. The leads are well implemented in an era where the bridge riffs were just as important, and they are. Killian's vocals here are not too reined in from the debut, still populating that higher, unhinged range and anger, still capable of a catchy verse line or chorus.
Whether you were in the market for the faster, rabid sounding thrash or a set of mid-paced moshing riffs which would have also done Exodus or Sacred Reich proud, Oppressing the Masses was definitely one album that went into my teenage rotation and remained there for quite some time, for me the last valuable effort this band released. Not quite as concise or marvelous as its older sibling, but an album I can still spin today to generate the same level of excitement for a period in which one of my favorite genres was heavily saturated with great material on a normal basis. Coincidentally, it is also the last genuinely good album Robb Flynn has ever been a part of. Almost 30 years, dude, maybe step it up a little.
Verdict: Win [8.25/10] (watch as I devour you!)
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Erotikill - Virgin Speed (1990)
The mean vocals and meaner licks here remind me of some union of earlier Whiplash, Juggernaut, Anvil Bitch and Hallows Eve, a poor man's Power and Pain with a Baptism Under Fire finish; though I'd not be surprised to find copies of Kill 'Em All, Show No Mercy, Welcome to Hell and Metal Inquisition in the members' collections, because many of the basic riff progressions seem to hail from that train of thought. However, what is probably most surprising about Virgin Speed is that the Californians actually pace out their debut album with a number of slower or mid-paced riffing sequences that really round it out as a package deal...the measured, melodic intro to "Slay Ground" or pure power/speed riffage that sets up "Enemy in Our Midst" are just a handful of examples of how they weren't simply trying to be the straightest, most repetitive of thrash outfits. Leads and harmonies are wild and frivolous and frankly the most exciting component of the band's songs, like the beginning of "Betrayer", but when it comes to pure riff architecture they're definitely in the familiar mindset of the mid to late 80s, which is probably why Virgin Speed seems as if it were born too late to the world.
Of course, that was 'then', and in the 'now', nostalgia has totally taken over the metal scene, and a record like this would surely be a sought after sound for those who pine for that era of big hair and bigger...yeah. But some might have reservations as to the production here. Personally, I didn't mind the brash and raw guitar tones (think Sentence of Death but a bit less tinny), though they often seem to get smothered by or smother the trash-can drums, and I like how they are combined with a pretty substantial picking arsenal that, while never technical or innovative, is at least keeping busy without endless repetition cycles. However, I think a lot of folks would single out vocalist 'Vic Van Wie' as the most charismatic component of this album...he's got a raucous bark not unlike a Harlan Glenn (ex Juggernaut) or Nasty Ronnie (Nasty Savage) but not above some comical dude-whining inflections (in "Betrayer", for example). Granted, the guy's a bit loose in delivery and some of the whinier lines are like annoying pimples against the more aggressive, carnivorous voice he generally favors, but at least he's never boring...
As for song quality, the album is pretty shaky. Most of these tracks have a decent flow with solid if not ultimately memorable riffing configurations, gang shouts, and clear choruses that are somewhat less of a payoff than you'd want from your average Megadeth or Metallica tune of the 80s. Cuts like "Enemy in Our Midst" and "Patriot" are appreciably pissed off and you could probably toss half the album into your favorite dirty speed/thrash playlist and it wouldn't manage to stink up the experience, though there would not be hooks that sink into you like "Black Metal", "Die by the Sword", "Jump in the Fire", etc. I would say that Erotikill deserved a little more lip service than they've gotten, so in this day and age they might prove an entertaining haven for those hunting down spikes, skulls, leather and aerosol babes and just a raw, rowdy record which doesn't take itself (or anyone else) too seriously. I guess I'd describe this as 'okay', but an amusing 'okay' that somehow simultaneously recalls puberty, bad 80s horror flicks, and bad pulp sword & sorcery fiction (though the last two are merely due to the artwork).
Verdict: Indifference [6.5/10]
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Angkor Wat - Corpus Christi (1990)
But, hey, at least they were on the road to self-betterment, and tunes like "Ordinary Madness" or the bludgeoning "Schizophrenic" with its filtered vocals actually walked the border of being interesting. As with the debut, you do get a fair amount of variety in the construction of the riffs, but that doesn't always lend itself to strong overall song composition. There's a superior flow once you get past the intro, and plenty of meaty and chunky mid-paced rhythm guitars for you to start up a mosh to, but then you get to a piece like "Sinking" which lumbers around like a special needs antelope separated from its herd, and Corpus Christi becomes very quickly derailed. Bass is still a strong component, but a bit muddier here than the debut. Drums are natural and reflexive, especially when hitting grooves or cadences (like in "Golden)". I like the glittering acoustic guitars that inaugurate "Ordinary Madness", especially when joined by the atmospheric electric melodies, but even there they might have worked better if infused through more of its considerable seven and a half minute bulk. However, on the downside, "Sour Born" is almost like they were testing the waters of an entirely different style, a driving and noisy rock piece which I'd place somewhere between Neil Young and Sonic Youth...really fuckin' weird, to be honest, and doesn't work in context with most of the songs leading up to it.
Also...the cover of Heart's "Barracuda" with the higher pitched vocals is entirely out of place, and it ensures that the tail end of the album is impossible to take seriously, even if the trotting of the rhythm guitar is duly chunked up and driving, and the bridge sort of atmospheric...listen to Chastain's version which feels far more natural. Corpus Christi also suffers from a few other quirks like the occasional, terribly lame attempts at cleaner vocals. It sucks, because when the Texans are doing their own thing, and they're 'on', this proves the better of the two full-lengths. Some better riffs, and some lyrics with depth (like on the title cut). If only I could pluck out the five best tunes that sound like Angkor Wat and turn them into an EP, this might top When Obscenity Becomes the Norm...Awake! in quality, but the plurality of strange missteps and failed attempts at self-realization and originality cock everything else up, and this is probably of no interest to any thrasher without a penchant for masochism or a deliberately ironic sense of humor. No wonder they handed their resignation letters in, because this basically amounted to a a career crucifixion. Clearly they wanted to move on to greener pastures...and a few did, to industrial metal acts like Skrew, and ironically Ministry and Nine Inch Nails (so the intro here was a bit of foreshadowing).
Verdict: Fail [4.5/10]
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Cadaver - Hallucinating Anxiety (1990)
Hallucinating Anxiety is more or less a clash of US and British influences. Riff construction is a mix of clinical grooves circa Carcass or Bolt Thrower, and evil tremolo picked note sequences highly redolent of Death, to the point that they might have fit in rather well with a Scream Bloody Gore or Leprosy. The cover artwork of this album, and hell even the band's name and song titles, were quite close to Carcass in nature, though lyrically they weren't dealing in pure gore and surgery. Beyond that, the grimy guitar tone is derived from a clear Repulsion lineage, and some of the faster, grinding bits are not unlike the first few Napalm Death records. Like a lot of other seminal death metal groups, the pulse of thrash is still quite evident, coursing through the more oppressive, brutal architecture. There are certainly a fair share of faster progressions which wouldn't have been out of place among the more extreme acts of its parent genre like a Dark Angel or Slayer. Hallucinating Anxiety is a mild divergence from its closest stylistic relatives (influences) as far as Old Bjerkebakke's vocals, which while bloody and appreciably menacing, did not stand out quite so much as a Schuldiner, Tardy, van Drunen or Glen Benton; more an impish relative of early Willetts.
The production on this thing is a fusion of the sterile and saturated, the latter thanks to the tone of the guitar, and has proven a bone of contention for many old school death metal aficionados who have a preference for Cadaver's sophomore, ...in Pains, but I actually disagree on that point. As fibrous, rugged and raw as the debut sounds, it only contributes to the charm of its pathological and frightening subject matter. The bass is soaked in a beautiful distortion throughout, most notable where it's grooving alone at the intro to "Bodily Trauma", but hanging in right at the edge of perception throughout the remainder, churning along grotesquely below the more dominant and obvious rhythm tone. Speaking of which, these guitars could serve as a rust remover, so unnatural and soaked in aural chemicals. Even if they seem slightly dry, since there isn't a lot of background atmosphere to the album, they're still very effective at giving the riffing sequences that morbid, otherworldly edge that helped it stand out against the sea of thrash records so prominent in this period. As for the drums, they're a bit raw and disparate from the guitars, often congested into walls of cymbals. You can't really feel much of the kick drum, but it's there, and some early kicks and double bass patterns are woven against the riff cycles, moreso at least than on, say, Leprosy.
Though the songwriting is fairly consistent throughout the 39 minutes of material, I always felt that there were a few offerings on Hallucinating Anxiety that stood out from the remainder. Namely the opening track "Tuba/Ignominous Eczema", a barrage of strutting, evil grooves with a wicked sounding, noisy intro, and a killer tremolo lick around 1:50 that I very much remember learning on the guitar and playing repeatedly at band practices (to the point that I think I even changed the notes and included a similar phrase in some shitty original). I also really enjoy the song "Corrosive Delirium", which was structurally related to a number of Symphonies of Sickness tunes via Carcass. There are a number of other sick songs like "Hallucinating Anxiety" itself, but I definitely felt it was front loaded with its most memorable riffs. The only other complaint I have is that some juicy, dissonant leads would have given the record yet another dimension of cool. Most of the music here does feel as if it's lacking that one added element, but by no means does it cripple the sum experience of wretched, gut wrenching viscera that the musical and visual imagery manifests.
I realize Cadaver was lost among a whole crowd of 'C' bands in its day, from Carcass and Cannibal Corpse to Carnage, Cyanide and Cancer, but pundits for the punishing sounds of antiquity should totally track this down if it remains foreign to them. I mentioned that many point out the Norwegians' sophomore as their magnum opus, and I can somewhat sympathize since the production is far more professional and the album has a more progressive bent, but I found it more derivative of a single source (early 90s Death) than the debut, and Hallucinating Anxiety possesses a very rare personality due to its production 'flaws' that I just can't imagine doing away with. Definitely evokes the same stench of bodily ruptured nostalgia that I feel for other classics around 1990, and has held up well for two decades plus.
Verdict: Win [8.25/10]
http://www.myspace.com/cadaver
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Believer - Sanity Obscure (1990)
It helps a great deal that the sophomore opens with what are, in my estimation, the best two Believer cuts in their entire catalog. "Sanity Obscure" opens with freakish tones of disjointed nursery rhymes, almost like it were being played at you through the loudspeaker of some psychotic ice cream truck; and then comes a dissonant build into a simplistic thrash break, and then the Pennsylvanians unleash a heavenly host of cinders and ash through their taut, precision riffing. "Wisdom's Call" is Christened with a groovy beat before its own meaty guitars erupt into a splendorous, surgical display of palm muted harmonies. There remains that dense, industrial grade soullessness to the guitar tone, but I feel like the lows and highs of the strings are better captured, and thus the muscle of each progression really hits the listener in the gut. I'd compare it to the Teutonic gods Destruction, but I'd be thinking more of their 2000 and beyond reunion era, albums like All Hell Breaks Loose or The Antichrist. Though furious enough to satisfy the audience of West Coast thrash like Dark Angel or Exodus, I'd actually go one further and say that the way Kurt Bachman and Dave Baddorf formulated the riffs on this thing are clashing, compact and chaotic enough that they might satisfy fans of adventurous Floridian death/thrash outfits like Atheist, Cynic, Hellwitch or later Death. I even prefer it to much of those bands' output (I'd take it over Piece of Time, for example), even if it's not so dextrous, jazzy or technically profound.
Bass is still an issue, but even if it's not as compelling as, say, a Roger Patterson or Tony Choy, it buzzes and burps along here with more of an intensity and distinction than on the debut. Additionally, the drums feel more fleshed out, with a nice snap to the snare, and some more flexible double bass and near blast work, though like most thrash acts the beats were influenced more through rock and punk music. While they don't abandon that hacking, angry inflection they possessed on the debut, Bachman's vocals also seem better rounded. You can make out more of that tortured decay in the longer syllables, and he definitely feels like he's crawling along the Emergency Room floor with a burst appendix or some other tangible, unshakable form of physical pain wracking his entire person. They continue to play around with the idea of orchestral ingredients, this time largely through the incorporation of the female operatic vocals and symphony in "Dies Irae (Day of Wrath") which persist through the nearly six minutes of the track; for sure one of the earliest examples of an extreme metal band implementing such strings and sound design alongside the heavier fare. A less seamless fit than you'd hear on, say, Into the Pandemonium, but quite fitting to the manic intensity of Believer's metal riffing.
Really, any 2-3 of the originals on this album would provide me with more replay value and choice riffage than the entirety of Extraction from Mortality, but Sanity Obscure is also about 6-7 songs deep in terms of consistent quality and coherent variation. Not until the cover of U2's "Like a Song" do I feel an urge to skip a track, and in their defense, they at least inject that with some punky/thrash enthusiasm while attempting to maintain The Edge's sense for atmospheric playing. The CD reissue contains an instrumental bonus track called "I.Y.F." which is a more harmonious use of the two guitars, but this also has rougher production values as it hails from their 1987 demo The Return. Ultimately, this has proven the sturdiest of their full-lengths to date, sounding just as fresh and pulverizing as it was the first time I laid my hears on it, and with great haste I would recommend this to the connoisseur of technical thrash or death/thrash metal, provided he or she doesn't mind sharing a seat with Jesus for just the one bus ride. A refined, evolutionary stopgap between the Bay Area and Teutonic thrash tones of the late 80s, and the emergent fusion of progressive Florida death.
Verdict: Win [8.75/10] (the birth pains have begun)
https://www.facebook.com/believerband
Monday, October 22, 2012
Impetigo - Ultimo Mondo Cannibale (1990)
Even upon viewing the album, you could tell it was going to rank among the more extreme efforts of its day, but I'd say this was achieved more through the lyrics, sample choices and Italian cannibal/exploitation cover art. By 1990, really, who had seen a more repulsive and disgusting film than something like 1980's Cannibal Holocaust, which this seems to reference directly? The samples of torture, suffering and zombie speculation are quite substantial, and used to great effect, in fact I found them the most fascinating aspect of the album, and without a doubt they (along with others like Mortician) kicked off the decades long trend of borrowing audio from cult cinema, something numerous bands have gone over the top with in just about every song. The lyrics are in general well written, a little more 'descriptive' than Cannibal Corpse or Mortician on their earlier recordings; but there are points on the debut, like "Bitch Death Teenage Mucous Monster From Hell" where they take on a more primitive, punk-splatter attitude for laughs, so there's a bit of inconsistency in how much pathos and brutality one is going to take away from this...
The vocals, too, were well ahead of their time. Sure we had John Tardy, Chuck Schuldiner, Chris Reifert and Martin van Drunen out their painting our ears with their ghastly inflections, but Impetigo was way, way over the top. Spunk-guzzling garbled growls are interspersed with hoarse, haughty barks that would remind me of harder edges thrash acts like Rigor Mortis, while they also incorporated sinister snarls and an even more foundation-rattling guttural which often appears to hilarious effect. Where a lot of the death metal vox of the time felt like they were being hurled at you atmospherically from a creepy cemetery, Stevo Dobbins and his backups felt as if they were mocking you, shouting their lungs out before decapitating you with a chainsaw, and though they've no choice but to feel incredibly tongue in cheek, they're probably a fairly apt representation of a serial killer with a few screws loose. Hell, they even transform the lines at the end of "Unadulterated Brutality" into this weird spoken word sequence above the musical clamor, like a horrific Henry Rollins perversion out to terrify every soccer mom in a hundred mile radius.
While Impetigo were never a 'high budget' sort of band, and would never have even desired such, I do have to say that the production of this debut holds up pretty well. The guitars and bass are thick, muddy and feel like a spiked bludgeon being applied to someone's wet, exposed intestines. The ridiculous vocals are all quite clear, though I occasionally felt they were too loud or dramatic over the instruments. The drums are perhaps the most varied, busy and 'technical' element to the music, with loads of fills in among the brutal blasts or the more mid-paced rock rhythms. It's actually better balanced than an effort like, say, Repulsion's Horrified which had that caustic, buzz saw tone throughout, without losing any of its ability to dig its heels right into your guts and induce vomiting (though that other album is far grimier and superior). The samples are fairly noisy, with clear source hissing, and don't exactly transition well into the music, but at the same time this was a relatively novel practice in metal music in 1990, so there weren't a lot of precedents to follow.
So with all this going for it, where does Ultimo Mondo Cannibale fail me? Simple: the guitar riffs. I have never, in decades, found the chord progressions here to be all that impressive or distinct. The primacy of the patterns is perhaps adequate to the intentions of the music, but it's more or less a smattering of notes that have been mildly altered from Carcass, Death, Napalm Death, Repulsion, and numerous punk and hardcore sources through the 80s. Despite the mesh of thrash and death influences, there is not one point throughout the whole of this album in which a guitar line actually becomes infectious. As a result, I'm left with only the 'dressings' of an entertaining orgy of evisceration, and no actual bloodbath in support. There are occasionally harried periods of tremolo picking intensity, but most are just rather average thrash patterns played at a punk pace. The leads are wild, ratty and entirely forgettable against the meatier rhythm guitars, and there's never any sort of interesting dynamic or atmosphere to speak of. Don't get me wrong, the tunes are pretty brutal for this period and do create a stark contrast to the more technical developments of thrash and death metal taking place, but this sort of caveman approach to writing still would have benefited from better songwriting.
There are also boring little drudge-core vignettes here like "Venereal Warts", "Jane Fonda Sucks Part 2" or the grinding "Heart of Illinois" which are all under a minute in length and completely unnecessary; not to mention they don't always feel thematically flush with their neighbors. I really don't need these wastes of space to assert that Impetigo have a sense of humor; that much is already obvious from the vocals. As a whole, the inclusion of such pieces leaves the impression of a sloppy, undecided effort which still drags its heels behind in cheesy garage grind and doesn't fully commit to a stronger sense of gruesome purpose. Not that it would be a far better record without them, but it would at least feel more cohesive in delivering its already lackluster riff progressions.
Ultimately, Ultimo is just not that special of an album, and beyond a healthy appreciation for its placement in history and commitment to its cult horror/exploitation influences, which exceeded that of most other death metal acts of its day, there is rarely any incentive to listen through it. Albums like Consuming Impulse, Realm of Chaos, Mental Funeral, Symphonies of Sickness, Left Hand Path, and Cause of Death were just so much more compelling and atmospheric musically, sticking with the listener long after the sound was emitted from the speaker. In comparison, Impetigo would just splatter brains and beef against your windshield that were easily enough washed free by turning on the wiper. Its limbs might have grown up and strengthened through future applications of the form, but the roots have long since withered.
Verdict: Indifference [6/10] (prone on the operating table)
http://www.grindgore.net/impetigo/
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Cancer - To the Gory End (1990)
And that would be Brazilians Sepultura, circa 1987-1989. A lot of this probably has to do with the mix and production, in particular the guitar tone; both To the Gory End and Beneath the Remains were produced by Scott Burns, after all. There's a nice wash of fuzz on the guitar that gives it that same sepulchral, ripping and downtrodden feel like trudging through a decaying bog full of rotted, half-submerged coffins. However, I also found that the fiber of both the mid-paced thrashing riffs and the faster, tremolo bits were quite similar in how they were composed, perhaps with a few touches of the similar Slowly We Rot by Obituary. This was not a time when many albums were 'fully committed' to either one genre or the other, so Cancer pretty evenly distribute the riffs between the palm muted mosh pit hymnals and the faster paced picking that bands like Slayer and Death brought into the mainstream. The bass is very plunky and difficult to distinguish from the rhythm guitar, but the drums here had begun to incorporate a lot of the double bass and a few of the later crossover-charge beats that would eventually transform into the blast beat. Vocally, I was more reminded of Altars of Madness-era David Vincent than Max Cavalera, if not as ghastly; John Walker has a nice, bloody sneer to his gutturals that keeps them in an admittedly mid ranged pitch.
One of my favorite tracks here has always been the title cut, which opens with a menacing, symphonic synth and barrels through a number of potent riffing sequences, especially the frenetic speed/thrash played out below the vocals in the verse, but there are a number of other cool bits like "Body Count", "Into the Acid" or the spectral "Sentenced to the Gallows" with its threads of cleaner, eerie guitars that glide above the rhythm chords. To be honest, though, even these better pieces don't exactly resonate for very long in the memory, even though they still sound fresh whenever I return for another listen. The leads, where they appear, are fairly wild and zippy, but I always felt like there was simply a layer of atmosphere missing that would have made the lion's share of tracks more ominous and aggressive. As it stands, To the Gory End feels rather stripped in its delivery, and it doesn't have that riff for riff quality you'd recognize from, say, Schizophrenia, Consuming Impulse, Leprosy or Beneath the Remains. Half the tracks were pretty average even for a time in which the very notion of death metal was still a novelty, while the other half were decent enough to hint at a glimpse of future potential.
Lyrics involve, as you might expect from looking at the cover (which was censored in some markets), serial killers, murder, butchery, and hell, even hanging ("Sentenced to the Gallows"); the title track is even a tribute to the Hellraiser film series, so the horror influence is overt. All told, a fairly humble debut which was simply and understandably outdistanced, outclass and out-brutalized by other albums of its age, but probably worth a listen if you're into transitional death/thrash hybrids like Sepultura, Assorted Heap, Sadus, Protector and so forth.
Verdict: Win [7/10] (as they make you ride the blade)
http://www.myspace.com/canceruk
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Testament - Souls of Black (1990)
Aesthetically, it's quite similar to Practice What You Preach, only the mix seems shoddier. The bass is less prominent, the guitars dingier, and there seems to be more of a reverb saturation. I even detect a little hiss to the CD, but again, I've hardly tracked down a remaster for it or compared it to other digital formats. At any rate, compared to records like Rust in Peace, By Inheritance or Seasons in the Abyss, it seems as if it was underdeveloped just to get it out to stores on time and maintain that one album/year cycle that wasn't always the best blueprint for success (as Metallica has proven time and time again). The only exceptions are the vocals of Chuck Billy, which are just as consistent and poignant as any of the previous records, and Alex Skolnick, whose leads seem to carve out quality from whatever bedrock they're settled into. There are also a bevy of surgical, semi-tech thrash riffs even in a few of the weaker cuts that would have been so much more excellent with a better mix of instruments. I also dug the cover art here, another proxy for the band members, though the title font is hammy as hell; combined with the heart, it makes me feel like I'm on a Valentine's date at some diner, being served by Dementors from the Harry Potter universe.
As for the song selection, it's set up quite similarly to Practice, with in my estimation the best material all wedged up front in the track list, and then a simmering down and compromise for the later numbers. After the Mediterranean mystique of the acoustic intro "Beginning of the End", "Face in the Sky" crashes in with some decent grooves playful spikes of lead guitar, and other standouts include "Love to Hate", "Falling Fast", "Absence of Light", and "Malpractice". I go back and forth on the title track, a woozy groover with a clear hard rock influence permeated by harsher, thrashing guitars, but it's not out of place here, and also might have fit in flush with the third album. The only real stinker here is "The Legacy", another shitty power ballad track that you can bet your ass was included because of "The Ballad"'s market penetration, but comes out even wimpier than the last. The other late cuts like "One Man's Fate" and "Seven Days of May" also fall short of the quality I'd expected, and as far as I'm concerned the last 15 minutes of the whole record should just have been left off (an EP would have sufficed, and given the band some breathing room).
In the end, for all its flaws, Souls of Black still has that ability to evoke some nostalgia and transport me back to a time and place of significance; it's not as if the band just suddenly sucked, and in fact my favorite material was still to follow. I recall seeing the band play some of this material on the Painkiller tour with Judas Priest and Megadeth, and I certainly played the heck out of my tape for a few weeks, but its charms faded rather quickly, and I would find myself steering back to The Legacy or The New Order. A good album, just not a great one; worth buying if you love the first three, but not a strong place to start if you're a virgin to their sound. I'd love to hear most of it fully remixed or remastered, perhaps even recorded again with more power to the guitars, but as it stands, I don't set aside much time for this these years.
Verdict: Win [7.5/10] (they got control)
http://www.testamentlegions.com/site/
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Queensrÿche - Empire (1990)
That's not to imply that Empire is the worst note in the strident and disheveled legacy band has built unto the 21st century, but it's a clear downturn from its impressive predecessor, and even at best, it seems like it was attuned to same the Gold and Platinum defining hard rock audience obsessed with Def Leppard, Bon Jovi, the Scorpions, and other arena-packing leviathans of the late 80s, more so than the prog nerds who enjoyed the two albums prior, or the leather savages lusting after The Warning Pt. II. Queensrÿche had taken a taste of the bubbly with hits like "Eyes of a Stranger" and "I Don't Believe in Love", and now they wanted a larger slice of the vineyard, which they certainly acquired with this album. I'm not going to lay this all at the feet of the frustratingly catchy sissy-ballad "Silent Lucidity", a song that infested my high school years and the ensuing decade through countless overplay on imagination-lacking video and radio channels, High School proms, and music lessons for aspiring vocalists who were tired of aping "Stairway to Heaven". No, really the whole of Empire is ridden with flimsy rock songs, and it seems to lack the unified themes threaded through the earlier full-lengths, not that I mind Queensrÿche decision to step away from the concept album, I only wish they had made it...well, a little more metal than this. Translation: a lot more.
As soon as "Best I Can" rolled out of my speakers as a teen, I was stranded in some sort of nebulous cross-worlds of Rush and Van Halen, the one distinguished difference being Tate's familiar cries. I've got no problem with those bands at their prime, but compared to the emotional and inspired gauntlet the 'ryche had run me through just a couple years prior, this seems like vapid audio vaporware, posi-cock-rock wearing a great big happy face. There are still some muscles to DeGarmo and Wilton's guitars, this isn't a complete 180 from Mindcrime in terms of tone and style, but until at least the bridge vocals and their pulsing undertow, there isn't much of interest to this song, no dramatic and mind spiking chorus despite the crystalline, clean delivery of the vocals and guitar melodies. More successful is "Another Rainy Night (Without You)", with its woozy, driving chorus, bumping Eddie Jackson bass-lines and strong note progressions; and the title track "Empire" itself which is the heaviest song on this album with its gang, race and corruption related lyrics and an exquisite chorus harmony that has Tate stretching his pipes to appreciable ends; but even the latter is goofed up a little with the lower pitched speaking the man disperses through the more majestic moments.
Otherwise, there aren't many tunes in place here that stir any response from me whatsoever, which was a real shock considering what an earection (apologies in advance) I sport for its predecessor. "Della Brown" is wimpy overpolished cubicle rock. "Anybody Listening?" is like a weaker back-up power ballad for the more fetching "Silent Lucidity", with a ballsier, electrified chord chorus; and other tunes like "Hand on Heart", "One and Only" and "The Thin Line" were entirely forgettable. "Jet City Woman" and "Resistance" had a few classy components, but they're just not strong enough to singe themselves deep into my conscience. This was a hot, hot record upon its release, and I couldn't escape it through anything less than a complete suspension from my teenage academics, but so much of it seemed watered down for mass consumption, and frankly it's become their most dated sounding record, even moreso than the synthy, divisive sophomore Rage for Order. Clearly there was some strong composition still coursing through the band's veins. You don't come up with something so sugary sweet and catchy as the clean guitars or orchestration for "...Lucidity" by sleeping on the job...
...but unlike Operation: Mindcrime, on which I never felt a single note was out of place or less effective than the next, this material seems inconsistent in its ability to stick. The production is spiffy, clean and safe for the whole family, with a lot of glimmer to the clean notes dancing alongside Tate's melodies, but the rhythm guitars never pack that much of a punch, even in "Empire". Rockenfield is still hitting hard, but he just sounds so clean on this album that you could have almost replaced him with a primitive drum machine and gotten a comparable result. Guitar melodies are strong, as in "Another Rainy Night" or the intro to "Resistance", yet there aren't enough of them that burrow themselves inside my cranial meat and lay their parasitic progeny. Hell, even the cover art seems bland this time, the band's icon against a black backdrop with yet another indecisive 'logo' and some chic, corporate block-text that would have been better served in Janet Jackson's Rhythm Nation. Granted, Empire wasn't the first Queensrÿche album to flirt with a then-modern, sleek safe for work rock sensibility, but Rage for Order was far stranger, with better lyrics, more compelling subject matter and quirkier choices of instrumentation; it had a looser, more experimental appeal than this.
Empire doesn't suck. It's got a few strong songs, and the music and lyrics do exhibit a modicum of effort, but this was clearly the first symptom of the Washingtonians' slide into creative poverty that would define the next few decades of their continued careers. There are about 15-20 minutes here which I'd consider to approach par with the earlier Queensrÿche. The remainder is a mild and mediocre kowtow to the grazing masses while they waited for the next Hall & Oates record. Letdown central. Naturally, it's gone triple platinum (at least) and is their most financially successful venture.
Verdict: Indifference [6.25/10] (game point, nobody wins)
http://queensrycheofficial.com/home.cfm
Monday, May 14, 2012
King Diamond - In Concert '87: Abigail (1990)
That said, while it does present a good glance at the formative King Diamond live experience, In Concert '87: Abigail does have its flaws. There are certain tracks, like the opener "Arrival" where I found that the leads would almost drown out the rhythm guitar, and King's lower range vocals also feel a little broken and shaky. However, the sound and performance do seem to improve as the set deepens (or rather the sequence the tracks are ordered on this disc), and the crowd reaction throughout the course of the entire disc is vibrant, along with King's own frontmanship. If you've seen the band live, you'll already know he's one of the most comfortable singers in his niche in the live environment, and I can't say I've ever seen him on an 'off' night after probably 5-6 gigs I've seen him at (with Fate and the solo band). Otherwise, the performances are pretty solid, in particular the drums and LaRocque's guitar playing, though again I wish the rhythm guitars (performed here by a stand-in Michael Moon) were just louder and more potent in general.
As for track selection, this was the Abigail tour and thus those cuts get the most attention. "Funeral, "Arrival", "The Family Ghost", "The Possession", "The 7th Day of July 1777" and "Abigail" are all present and accounted for, joined by only two Fatal Portrait songs in "The Candle" and "The Portrait". It's almost a shame, because as much as I love the flawless Abigail, I really would have preferred if they discarded the drum and guitar solo tracks in favor of something like "Charon" or "Halloween". Not because Mikkey Dee and LaRocque are incapable of showing off and impressing, but because...who cares? I actually found that the earlier material sounded more consistent here than the sophomore songs. Rounding out the list here, they've also included a decent rendition of Mercyful Fate's "Come to the Sabbath", and for a finale "No Presents for Christmas" from the 1985 single, for a total of about 53 minutes duration.
Unless you're in the market for bootlegs and such, this is really the only 'official' live album you'll hear from those important years, so whether or not King himself cares about it isn't going to mar the hardcore fan from its acquisition. Personally, I don't find it all that exciting, but nor is it bad. The times I've experienced them in concert sounded far superior to this, and the following double live album has much more to offer, though it's 14 years along in their career. That aside, this is not a terrible representation of the band by any means, the vocals and instrumentation are all audible, the falsettos sound good and there's enough of the necessary, manic energy in the song selection. A longer live album with material from 1988-90 would have been a better deal in '90, but sometimes you gotta take what you can get.
Verdict: Indifference [6.5/10]
http://www.covenworldwide.org/
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Flotsam and Jetsam - When the Storm Comes Down (1990)
While Flotsam and Jetsam's relationship with Elektra Records was rather short-lived, they were fortunate enough to sign over to an imprint of comparable magnitude in MCA for its followup to No Place for Disgrace. I can remember this as being one of those 'make or break it' moments for a thrash band in the later 80s. They had the momentum, they had the musicians, and they were coming off a fan favorite debut and an even mightier sophomore, so When the Storm Comes Down was essentially projected to become the band's Master of Puppets, a goal that was sadly not met at all. This was met with a lukewarm at best reaction, and I'd say that, despite the band's continued slot on the rosters of decent labels, this was more or less the beginning of their sink back into obscurity...Not that the music here sucks by any means, but there are certain faults in the production that do the rather adventurous writing little justice, and a few stupid songs that mar the remainder. I wasn't the hugest fan of the mix on the previous album (my favorite), and things seemed to only grow worse here, though arguably it falters in different ways. Erik A.K.'s stringy, melodic vocals feel too pinched and tinny in the mix, an unwelcome contrast against the meatier production of the rhythm guitars which were akin to ...And Justice for All or Persistence of Time. A lot of the curious little spikes of melody as in the verses to "6, Six, VI" just felt as if they were lingering far too much in the background, behind even A.K. in potency, and the funkiness of Troy Gregory's bass lines on this album, which show no lack of fluency and creativity, still came off rather flat. Not to mention that there was one song here, "No More Fun" which was a little too 'funky' for its own good, like Infectious Grooves or something and adjoined with goofy guitars and weird druggy lyrics alongside the bouncy pace. The drums are also just 'meh' in the mix.
On the other hand, there was no shortage here of decent and effective riffs that constructed themselves into some mildly memorable songs. Again, while I don't like the blaring funkiness of the bass tone in "The Master Sleeps", it's pretty well structured with those dense thrashing rhythm guitars and melodies that would thrill fans of mid to late 80s Metallica, Testament and so forth. "Suffer the Masses", while not a favorite, is definitely a well written mid paced head banger in which Knutson belted out stronger melodies, even if the backing vocals in the chorus were lackluster when leveraged against the soaring guitar lines. "Burned Device" is also a pretty solid performance from Eric over the glinted acoustics of the intro, and at 6 and a half minutes it has a lot going for it, while pieces like "October Thorns" and "E.M.T.E.K." are also effectively incendiary and show some thought in their own architecture.
However, even these are not quite good enough to scale to the summit of excellent achieved with "No Place for Disgrace", "Hammerhead", or the rebellious "Hard On You", and unlike the second album, I found that one shed a bit of its resonance with subsequent listens. Not to mention that "No More Fun" is a hands down dumb idea, and the closer "K.A.B.", one of those dorky acronym tunes from the 80s which is like 28 seconds of repeating the same vocal line 'Kill all bastards' is neither interesting or particularly humorous. It should be an unwritten law that you can not feature two acronym songs on your album! But beyond that, When the Storm Comes Down is too clean, and too polished in general, and the nasal vocals and imbalance of muscular thrash riffs and melodies really threw me off and continues to do so over 20 years later. Fans of the more progressive West Coast speed/thrash records like Heathen's sophomore Victims of Deception or Mordred's first two efforts Fool's Game and In This Life might want to check this out for its comparable creativity and tone, but for myself this was the opening chapter in a long stretch of mediocrity from a band I had very high hopes for.
Verdict: Indifference [6.75/10] (our time slips away)
http://www.flotsam-and-jetsam.com/
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