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Mortiis

Yes, Dorothy, we seem to have stumbled out of Kansas. Here it is, nearly a week later, and I'm still listening. I'm hearing echoes of Delirium (back in the days when Delirium wasn't the pop song vehicle that it is today, circa Stone Tower or Syrophenikan) in "Flux/Mental Maelstrom." I'm hearing Michael Cretu (it's his voice that has been marring the last few Enigma albums) call his trademark lawyer behind the synth-erotica opening of "Everybody Leaves." I'm hearing lyrics like "I want to be your parasite god / so I can show you what you really are" (from "Scar Trek/Parasite God" natch). And you know what? It's all working quite well for me, thank you very much.

If there is anyone who is weaving sigils and spells into their music, it most certainly is Mortiis with his "I just wandered off the stage from Act I, Scene I of MacBeth" persona. The looped violin, the television voice, and transmission of static crackle that make up the opening strains of "Spirit in a Vacuum" inscribes a magical seal on your forehead, a circle of Solomon that can bind phantoms. I am Jack's transfixed pineal gland.

All references to split personalities aside, I haven't been replaced by a pod or a previously subsumed aspect of my consciousness. It's still me, cranky and irascible; I've still got a quart of bile under my desk that I'm ready to pour at a moment's notice. It is just that I've got a weak spot for nostalgic bombast masquerading as gothic love songs (nothing quite says "I love you forever" like these lyrics: "Everything dies in the end / Everyone leaves in the end"). It's not a chink in my armor. It is a flap that I can raise and lower at will. Right now, it has been lifted and I'm tanking up on Mortiis.

I'm not going to take back anything I said about his live show, though.

-Mark Teppo
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Headhunter D.C.
And the Sky Turns to Black
World War III

Nephasth, who does eerily sound like Rebaelliun, is absolutely, crushingly brutal and precise, and they have that added "zip" that keeps me coming back for more. Much like Rebaelliun, Nephasth utilize a similar guitar style, with melodic guitar flourishes and ripping speedy riffs. Truly, these Brazilians are talented young players. They have all the right stuff--they just need to start finding their own style and sound. Nephasth could give Rebaelliun a good fight musically, but with a little originality (which I'm sure is lurking in there somewhere) they can be their own death metal force.

Complaints? Hmmm, I would like to hear them develop more of an identity and use less of that damn test of the emergency broadcast signal around the middle of the disc. The playing is more than proficient and the production is quite crisp. I prefer the drums to sound a little heavier, but it appears they were going for light and zippy. Fans of Rebaelliun will want to pick these up. And everyone, especially Pandemia and the Polish contingent, should be watching Brazil very closely. This is the perfect Christmas gift for the bad boy/girl who needs badder music than all the other kids. The trippy demonic cover art by Jacek Wioenieweski is a sure eye catcher.

-Sabrina Haines
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Rabies Caste

Rabies Caste is on to something, and with songs like "Out of the Solar System," and "Andrea," there is tons of room to explore this avenue of obsessively demented drones of down-tunedness. The different timing style is in stark contrast to many bands experimenting with fucked up metal. Rabies Caste slams you around and picks your brain all in the same motions; kind of like a swift kick to your head. You are hurting and dazed, but once you regain your composure you realize that what hit you was something good. The production work on Let the Soul Out and Cut the Vein could be better--the snare drum is set too far forward in the mix and interferes with the other instruments. If they would just turn down the snare to achieve a better fit this would be a perfectly messed-up release. All-in-all, though, Rabies Caste has definitely something to build upon.

-Steve Weatherholt
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Saint Sophia

Bookended by the ethereal synth of "Seven Going on Eight" parts 1 and 2, the most striking parts of this full-length are the instrumentals. "The Rig Is Starting to Rotate," for example, is intensely delicate and bittersweet. It practically aches for vocals to match. Not so with "Interoffice," a tripped-out jam embellished with the pluck-and-ping of vibes. The visceral groove of the bass line could power a locomotive. In the same vein, "Dream of a Lost Life" is equally as moving.

Saint Sophia often begins with an immaculate, simplified sound resembling Ocean Blue, only to phase into the sweeping, undulating soundscapes that hallmarked the style of the aforementioned shoegazers as well as the current noise pop scene. Yet there are also moments when I'm reminded of early R.E.M.: the shimmering twang of the guitar of the 10-minute "Trapline" or the half-murmured vocals of "Tesselations." "Low Elms" wraps haunting vocal harmonies and layers them atop an acoustic guitar. The resulting sense of lament and loss is profound. The quick chord and tempo changes of the first proper track, "Cricket (Paralyzed)" seem to undermine its gravity without diminishing its effect.

Flaws exist, but they are not concentrated in any one point. "Silverfish" has an amateurish feel--both lyrically and musically--and causes a perceptible sag in the album center. The build-up on tracks like "SlowFade Nightflower" takes much too long. A crescendo of guitars suddenly jolts the listener from the mellowing trance of the first four minutes, effectively neutralizing the antithetical moods of beginning and end. Stylistically, the slightest bit of streamlining would assuage the feeling one gets of dilettante-ism.

Moving light years beyond its predecessor, Example: I Die on My Knees (2000; tracks posted on MP3.com), The Deepsweet Nothings Network is a refreshing dose of insightful, lovelorn shoegazer rock. If Saint Sophia can build on its existing foundation and take this abandoned genre further, I'm already looking forward to a follow-up that carves a deeper, more distinctive niche. Furthermore, the feat would undoubtedly prove the band to be a major up-and-comer within the Pacific Northwest music scene.

-Eric J. Iannelli
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Links:
Slipknot

Iowa is more focused and the compositions have more depth. It is meaner, bigger, tighter, harder, and more chaotic than its predecessor. Vocalist Corey Taylor sums it up best in Iowa's first disembodied vocal line: "One more time motherfuckers." Neither he nor any of his eight partners in musical serial murder are fucking around one bit. If you've seen the movie Jacob's Ladder, you'll remember the freaky guy shaking around violently. Well, that's what you'll feel like listening to this thing. The album's first track "People = Shit" is a big fat answer to the question "why nine people?" Iowa recalls Slayer in their most bloody hour, and goes as fast as John Zorn's Naked City on crack. It's larger-than-life devil boogie with an industrial undertow that would make Godflesh proud.

As Iowa progresses past its first impression, it becomes destructively clear that this is a much more developed and on point terror. Songs like "Gently" come on like Tool with its layers of giant guitar, bass, and drums. Disbelievers are going to lose out on Slipknot's genius by stereotyping this band into an extreme metal Bozo the Clown aesthetic. I challenge anyone to put this album on next to anything they've got and turn it up very, very loud. You can put your eyeballs back in later.

True-blue base animal instinct has never manifested itself in a more popular musical vessel. And this I thank my lucky stars for in Slipknot. As visually dependant as they look, it couldn't be more the opposite. Their message is obviously one of "who gives a fuck who we are or what we look like, this is what we sound like," and Iowa pounds nine-inch nails deep into the coffin of rap-rock.

-Jeff Ashley
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Links:
Sodom

Truly, few bands really do improve with age. The theory of "better to burn out than fade away" and "die before I get old" is deeply imbedded in the wild, young image of metal and rock. Sodom just refuses to burn out and instead just keeps increasing in intensity and power with age. M-16 is a concept album with all songs based on or relevant to the Vietnam War. M-16 opens with "Among the Weirdcong," and closes with one of the eye-rolling cover of "Surfin' Bird." Of course, we all get the significance, and if we didn't the Apocalypse Now samples and 'tudes that pervade M-16 would help us understand.

The best song, bar none, is the powerful "Minejumper"--a song that is raising eyebrows and blood pressure worldwide. Bobby Schottkowski has developed into a sledgehammer of a drummer. Bobby must have arms the size of King Kong to play at the speed and precision that he maintains throughout M-16 Songs like "I am the War," the sensitive (and my second-favorite song) "Napalm in the Morning," "M-16," and "Lead Injection" fuel the intensity with their death-speed-thrash-metal riffs and sing-along lyrics. For the thrash fan, this is as necessary to life as water is to a dolphin. Besides, I love a guy in uniform, and seeing Angelripper in fatigues is an experience.

-Sabrina Haines
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Links:
Solarized

-Sabrina Haines
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Links:
Tarmvred

(That is not to say that his previous releases--including the staggering three disc Krach Test which sold out about as quickly as it would have taken you to listen to all 40 tracks--haven't been good. Most of them have been limited and, by the time I've had a chance to hear them, they've gone out of print. And, frankly, none have so quickly found a place in my black heart as Tarmvred's Subfusc has. Which isn't to cast dispersions on them, but rather to highlight how much I'm enjoying the thunderous tumult of Subfusc.)

My wife IMs me the other night, writing out lyrics to Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here," and then asks what I'm listening to down in the underground. My response: "Bzzzzat shsshshhs boom boom sshshshs zzzzz zzatt zaattt boom boom boom!" Just when I thought I was done with noise and beats, when I thought the genre had played itself out for my ears, along comes a disc like Subfusc, reeling me back in. Seven tracks (including one that has been blenderized by Converter) that flow into a exacting hour of thunder and drums. Ominous rumbles fill your speakers, lost chords fighting against the eruptive layer of static, and lurching, groaning beats that sound like slabs of desiccated concrete falling from fifteen stories up. The appeal, as always, with this genre is the way in which the artists creates sonic explosions that are rife with texture and aggression. There is a fine line between textured sound (and a lot of it) and a wall of feedback. The good noise rhythmatists press themselves up against this wall, using its face as a reflective surface for their work. Their melodies and beats are festooned with feedback, chaotic with cacophony, and deluged with dissonance. A wordless, cathartic roar of release. Which, some days, is exactly how you feel.

-Mark Teppo
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Therion

Secret of the Runes is a definite nod to Johnsson's Nordic roots with a wink to Wagner and his Nordic-Aryan power arrangements. Johnsson admits Wagner is a huge influence, but I've never heard who endeared metal to him--hope it's not secret. The meaning of the title is a twisted brainteaser--Rune means secret (according to Johnsson) and the title therefore is really Secret of the Secrets. Runes are more than letters to Johnsson, the runes transform into magical signs representing Nordic tradition. Each song is named after a rune and perfects its individual magic according to the history of said rune. Titles range from "Asgard," "Midgard," "Nifelheim," and "Helheim"--so it isn't difficult to guess their content. Therion fans will definitely pick up this gem, anyone interested in Wagnerian, symphonic power metal should also.

-Sabrina Haines
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Links:
They Might Be Giants

"Santa's Beard" made its debut on Lincoln (1990). If you don't have that album already, then it's highly unlikely that you'll be eager to spend 10 bucks on a one-off TMBG holiday EP. Therefore its inclusion is superfluous and goes one step further toward invalidating the whole idea behind this release. A catchy but remarkably boring song that rhymes "Chanukah" with "harmonica," viz. Adam Sandler, "Feast of Lights" is from a 1999 compilation sequel in celebration of the Jewish holiday. "O Tannenbaum," sung in the original German with a not-too-shabby accent, originally appeared on a 7-inch single. For the Mono Puff fans in other words, not really a proper TMBG track, "Careless Santa" is thrown into the mix. And there you have it.

Judging from the liner notes, some interesting anecdotes surround these recording sessions. The stories may even be more entertaining than the songs themselves. While I am usually full of praise for anything TMBG cooks up, the Holidayland EP is an unnecessary addition to the band's discography and brings substantially less cheer than intended to this year's holiday season.

-Eric J. Iannelli
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Trembling Blue Stars

The songwriter does occasionally spin some moderate hooks and airy melodies, but for the better part of 48 minutes we are lodged in a repetitive cycle of stationary rhythms and tender balladry. This is disappointing since the first track, "Under Lock and Key," is actually quite dynamic. Clashing cymbals, a hypnotic two-note sample and some well-placed guitar phrases lead us into a revealing chorus of "no matter how fierce the flames may be, you gotta keep your feelings under lock and key." Unfortunately, this sort of lively instrumental orchestration is rare on an album full of featherweight material. There is such a thing as too much restraint and, too often, Alive to Every Smile foregoes spontaneity for precision.

-Dan Cullity
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Potential buyers should note that uncontrollable head-noddin', slow-paced, salsa-inspired hip gyrations and incense burning are all likely, but pleasant, side effects of listening to this CD. Younger listeners have even been reported to be dancing the night away in a groove-blunted state of bliss.

Jazz lovers will no doubt enjoy the fusion flavored "Force of Gravity," while groove seekers will bum rush the floor for more dance-oriented fare like "References" and "Bud." Whether winding down from a night out on the town or living things up at your next stylin' cocktail party, Soul Addiction is the perfect funk-oriented instrumental backdrop.

-Cecil Beatty-Yasutake
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Links:
Vendetta Red

-Craig Young
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