earpollution album reviews [page 2] - issue 2.Ų1, january 2ŲŲŲ

The Avengers - Died for Your Sins
Beastie Boys - The Sounds of Science
Beck - Midnite Vultures
Bill Wolford - Bill Wolford's Head
Bio-tek - Punishment for Decadence
Bulemics / River City Rapists - Full On Hate Fuck
Control Denied - The Fragile Art of Existence
Entombed - Black Juju
Eternal Suffering - Drowning in Tragedy
Heather Duby - Post to Wire
I Mother Earth - Blue Green Orange
Jared Louche and the Aliens - Covergirl

The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion - Xtra-Acme USA
M'lumbo - M'lumbo vs. Kobalt 6: Spinning Tourists in a City of Ghosts
Melvins - Bootlicker
Metalium - Millennium Metal
Metallica - S&M
Mogwai - Mogwai EP
The Pressure - Things Move Fast
ROHT - Rant
Rotten Sound - Drain
Sephiroth - Cathedron
Sodom - Code Red

The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion Xtra-Acme USA Matador Links: Jon Spencer Blues Explosion		Pavement's Stephen Malkmus once referred to Beck as, "The biggest pretense for intelligence there is." For good or ill, that hasn't stopped a multitude of people from prostrating themselves before his music in holy submission. It's not that I think Beck unoriginal because the tunes he kicks out (much like Lenny Kravitz--another necrophiliac) are merely well-crafted, spliced regurgitations of sounds past. It's not that I hear his new album (Midnite Vultures) played in public places exponentially more often than 'N Sync, Britney Spears or the aforementioned Lenny "(I Want To) Fly Away" (from your fucking music) Kravitz. It's not that every time I see a video or song performed by Beck I'm fairly certain somewhere James Brown is mumbling something about "giving that skinny-ass white boy a good whupin' for being a second rate dance imitation." It's just because every time I see or hear Beck, I notice a nagging vacancy behind his music; a black hole of a void, to be exact. It lacks conviction. It lacks soul. It's fast food for the musically unchallenged. And Midnite Vultures is his sex album... So what the hell does all this griping about Beck have to do with The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion? Both artists are of the same ilk, but with one major exception: JSBX have more soul oozing from the hum of their amps than Beck will every be able to find in a lifetime of crafting beats to soul music. Both draw heavily from the blues and brazenly intertwine it with their own music, but only JSBX pulls it off in all the right ways. Who else could sing matter-of-factly about getting a hot dog with their baby in "Magical Colors (31 Flavors)" and have it dripping with sex appeal and coming across like it's the perfect come-on after the perfect date? Beck? Not likely, friends. Xtra-Acme USA is the new Jon Spencer Blues Explosion release, and consists of outtakes and remixes from 1998's first-rate bump 'n' grind, Acme. With the likes of Moby, David Holmes, Calvin Johnson and Dan "The Automator" Nakamura producing, mixing and remixing, and including musical contributors Money Mark and Jill Cunniff (to name but a few), you just can't go wrong with this. The album is 74 minutes of slinky, lust-filled blues interpreted by someone who knows how to satisfy a wanting lover. JSBX are the libido of soul that Beck is so in need of. *-Craig Young* [ top of page ]
M'lumbo M'lumbo vs. Kobalt 6: Spinning Tourists in a City of Ghosts Unit Circle Rekkids Links: M'lumbo		To listen to M'lumbo is to tap into the psychic history of the building where you live. There are echoes of old television shows still blaring out windows opened to the hot summer winds, of older steam pipes still knocking and gasping beneath your feet, of voices indistinct and muffled through decades of paint and plaster. Decrepit telephones ring in the distance. Radio announcers try to sell you products which haven't existed for over twenty years. Water drips in your basin and the floorboards in the hall creak with the passage of lame ghosts. Through this seeming cacophony wanders the haunted specters of old jazz men--trumpet players and saxophone crooners--lisping melodies lost since Prohibition. An old Victrola that has been lovingly kept is wheezing down the hall, its needle stuck near the inner edge of an extinct 78. Wind, lost and confused, gets caught in the ancient weathervane on the roof and keens endlessly for its freedom. And M'lumbo, through whatever arcane arts they have managed to teach themselves, add just a breath of a beat; just enough to give all these phantoms something to latch onto. Suddenly, you can hear the naturally majestic music that lives and grows year after year in the walls, in the very breath of your city. *-Mark Teppo* [ top of page ]
The Melvins The Bootlicker Ipecac Recordings Links: Melvins		The Melvins are just bizarre people. Known generally as the chunky-riff grandfathers of that "Seattle sound thing" that happened at the other end of the now-closed decade, the Melvins have since established themselves as a rock band willing to test the boundaries and limits of their sound. "Toy," the first song on their recent album, The Bootlicker, is genie belly dance music made frantic by jingling Christmas bells. Buzz Osborne chants the humming mantra of anyone stopping wide-smiled into a Toys-R-Us, "...toy...toy...toy...." It would also be proper track music for children sneaking their way around presents under a Christmas tree. It's a weird little tune that is merely the first whiff of a strange psychedelic burger. The Melvins themselves are in the middle of a "career suicide...three albums in six months" trilogy, The Bootlicker being album number two in between August's The Maggot and January's forthcoming The Crybaby. Why? Did you ask me, "Why?" This, my friends, is the Melvins. Just like there is no answer, there is no "why." They have simply never done what their fans have expected, especially considering the last five or so albums. For those of you that enjoyed Stag, and especially Honky, you will find comfort in the quirks and absurdity (if not the complete familiarity) of The Bootlicker. Worthy of mention are "Jew Boy Flower Head," which is a down on your luck street-cleaner cruiser, and the manic "Mary Lady Bobby Kins" where while listening you find it easy to imagine a bad day getting worse. However, if you're looking for real beef you may want to go a few months back to the trilogy opener, The Maggot, which grinds and numbs as effectively as any of the Melvins' heavies from the past. The Bootlicker is more of a veggie burger and, that said, is still of high nutritional worth. But it contains none of the usual ten-minute protein riffs you may be accustomed to. *-Al Cordray* [ top of page ]
Metalium Millennium Metal Pavement Links: Metalium		Metalium is comprised of former members of Savatage (Chris Caffery, bass), Gamma Ray and Yngwie Malmsteen's Band (Mike Terrana, drums) and it sounds a lot like Iron Maiden on steroids. This doesn't move far from the late '80s power metal formula, but it does play with a lot of balls and grit. This isn't boring and they do move at the speed of light. No one can doubt their musicianship, but it's Henning Basse's "my pants are too tight" vocals that just don't do it for me. Admittedly he isn't as high-pitched as Gamma Ray, but he is too close to being a soprano for me to enjoy. "Fight," "Break The Spell," "Metalium," "Strike Down the Heathen," "Pilgrimage," "Metalians" and "Dream of Doom" are blazing gems of pure power metal. "Void of Fire" is SST-fast with some tremendous drumming and just rules the entire disc. There is no need ever for another cover version of "Smoke on the Water." If you thought Iron Maiden and Helloween were the bomb you need to include this disc in your collection. *-Sabrina Wade-Haines* [ top of page ]
Metallica S&M Elektra Links: Metallica		This is not the symphonic dysfunction that is the London Symphony making a Herculean effort to embarrass themselves by recording orchestral versions of Pink Floyd or Yes. (Though some will argue that no one can embarrass themselves more than Jon Anderson, Rick Wakeman, and Chris Squire have these last few years by insisting on pretending that people are still interested in new Yes material.) Metallica have ganged up on the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra and, with the able assistance of Michael "Prince of Darkness" Kamen, have dropped on an unsuspecting public a monster metal Mass replete with a stack of strings and a blunderbuss of brass for purely concussive effect. While waiting for Cecil to finish music shopping one night, I found myself in front of a listening station and thought, "What the hell?" Halfway through "The Call of Ktulu" with my head reeling from the strains of the string accompaniment to Hammett's frenzied guitar work, I knew I had to buy this double set. Double set! That's over two hours of metal mayhem with strings and horns, kids! (And soon to be on DVD too!) I love texture. In fact, if anything can be seen as a constant in my musical schizophrenia, it is a quest for texture. And there is more texture here than can be found on the kneecaps of an elephant that's been dragged for a half mile behind an out-of-control circus wagon. Kamen has been around the block a few times scoring for rock music ("Whaddayamean it's got five time changes? It just goes chic-chic-chic-chigga.") and has done an impressive job orchestrating the 20 songs herein. Just the intro to "Battery" with its strings and woodwinds is enough to make any Shostakovich lover queue up for a ticket. The concept is impressive--terrifying even in its possibilities to fall so flat--but the approach is very serious in its intent of melding the furious Metallica sound with the equally sonic thunder of a symphonic orchestra. Maybe some of the classical set will discover the power of a good headbanging and maybe some of the hairwhippers will realize that Mahler and Mozart have something to offer them. Even if they don't, it will be the only "classical" concert where you can hear the audience screaming their heads off and doing call and response participation. It's a stone, cold groove. No, wait, I've got to convince the classical folk. It's a crisp, marbleized allegro with a delirio doppio movimento during the third act that catapults into a furioso finale that is simply rapturous in its rivvivando. *-Mark Teppo* [ top of page ]
Mogwai Mogwai EP Matador/Chemikal Underground Links: Mogwai		On their new EP, Mogwai advise us: "The ideal place to hear our new music is in the bath or while reversing a car 'round an evil corner." As well, I would recommend this fine new release to be listened to while driving on a long and lonely roadtrip through the cold, crisp winterscapes of eastern Washington. The EP is comprised of four new tracks recorded during the course of one week this past summer, and two tracks ("Rollerball" and "Small Children in the Background") that previously appeared on their import-only No Education = No Future: Fuck the Curfew, a protest to the ill-conceived nightly curfew imposed on youths by Glasgow authorities in an attempt to curb teenage crime and drug use. It's amazing how much depth and texture there is here for having only spent a week recording it. Music that is wonderfully patient, Mogwai are shedding their quiet/loud approach and evolving their sound into something whose emotional touch is godlike in the way it seeps into your pores and sparks your heart with its melancholic rapture. This EP is but a photograph, a quick glimpse at the band's creative process. When Mogwai settle themselves down to record proper, they'll likely eclipse anything previously done, and the results should be absolutely stunning. *-Craig Young* [ top of page ]
The Pressure Things Move Fast Elastic Records Links: The Pressure		Things move fast indeed--and this review begins with what was very nearly a complete and total ending. Shortly before the release of their debut, drummer Jason Thornberry was viciously beaten up by gang members, the attack leaving him in a coma and clinging for life. He thankfully has since come to and has been steadily, albeit slowly, rehabilitating. It will be months, if not years, before he has fully recovered, and one can only wonder what challenges he will face when he tries to play the drums again. We wish Jason a speedy recovery and hope to see him back with his fellow bandmates as The Pressure's debut is quite nice and the band deserves a better kickoff to their career than this kind of notoriety. Recorded by our friend Alex Newport (ex-Fudge Tunnel and currently masterminding Theory of Ruin) and clocking in at 34 minutes, Things Move Fast is a blistering pop punk affair in the same vein as some of your favorite '80s SoCal hardcore house bands. It's easy to imagine this trio playing a friend's party... Crammed into the low-ceiling confines of the basement and opposite the keg, their music explodes from within the tight confines with a noise and infection that will leave you buzzed long after the alcohol has worn off. Dana James' voice provides smart counterpoint to the vocal caterwauling of Ronnie Washburn. With sharp, snotty guitar licks, a tight snare like a woman's slap, and catchy song turnarounds, by the time the quiet "This Morning" rolls around to close the album out, you'll be offering to carry the band's gear back out to their van and asking them if they could play your house next weekend. *-Craig Young* [ top of page ]
ROHT Rant Trocar Records		The best that can be said about this release is that whoever is writing their press release should get a promotion. Let's take a look: "Rant is the most ambitious independent record in recent years." Um, guys, there are sponges crawling across the ocean floor with more ambition and independence. "Free of the conventions of lo-fi..." Which is what exactly? "...and whining, Rant is the album rock needed." And that sentence is the hyperbolic side-splitter I've been after these last few weeks. "With Rant, ROHT explores funk..." Not especially. "...punk..." Anemically. "...metal..." Only in that their strings are metal. "...dub..." My ass. "...folk..." What? Wait, that intro to "Machine Gun" might qualify. "...and shows it's [sic] only rock and roll." Hate to point this out, but you should probably get the rock and roll part down first before you start tackling those other genres, fellas. "Drawing on diverse personalities..." Which are so flavorfully evident in the monstrous monotony of each verse and each chorus of each song. "...ROHT has crafted a ferocious of groove and humor into the most distinctive rock album in years." A toothless beagle with a hungry expression and no back legs crawling towards you is more ferocious than that "spunky" beat that ROHT calls their own. "Rant is an amazing display of power and restraint..." Is that what that exhaustively numbing sound coming out of my speakers is an amalgamation of? "...fueled by ROHT's refusal to compromise or posture..." Oh, Christ, insert your own invective here. "...ROHT is a rock and roll band, maybe the last one on the planet." It only took me until track nine to write this much. If the last rock and roll band on the planet can't get their shit together enough to pump out one interesting song in nine tracks, I'm not going to hold out for the last seven. I'll just quietly acknowledge that I must be the only person left alive on the planet, and if this is what I get to listen to, then I'm off to gnaw through the insulation on the power cord of the CD player and bite down hard on the exposed wires. *-Mark Teppo* [ top of page ]
Rotten Sound Drain Repulse Records		Rotten Sound started off as just grind-crusties, and end up as brutal grind-crusties. The years haven't made Rotten Sound change, it's just made them meaner. For grind junkies that still think Napalm Death and Extreme Noise Terror are God, you may want to check out Rotten Sound. Rotten Sound takes the grind of yesteryear and tosses in a few industrial touches and huge dollops of brutality. Each track is individual and is loaded with character. Mike Aalto's and Juha Ylikoski's guitars are nothing if not entirely destructive and brutal. These brutal chords power everything. The drums are punishing and really weird. I've sat and tried to figure out if this is both a drum machine and drummer or if their drummer (evidently unlisted) is just that magnificent. Percussion plays a huge element in Rotten Sound's sound. Highlights are "Dirty Currency," "Bastard Behaviour," "Braindead," "Dark Highway" and "Cartender." This is a powerful statement for grind fans going into the new millennium. Could this be the rising contender for the throne of grind? Grab this now so you can start off the new millennium right with these Finnish grind junkies.. *-Sabrina Wade-Haines* [ top of page ]
Sephiroth Cathedron Cold Meat Industry		Thanks to the distance-distorting Internet and the power of the Post, Ulf Söderburg's two solo albums got a few listeners outside of Scandanavia. His Sephiroth project had a single track on Cold Meat Industry's (CMI) anniversary compilation (The Absolute Supper), which only served to whet the frenzied teeth gnashing of a fan base starving for a slab of cold, dark ambient to drop down their cavernously rapacious gullets. (Okay, maybe that was just me.) These six tracks are the dark twin to Peter Gabriel's Passion soundtrack. As Gabriel kept his music turned towards the light, Söderburg turns in the opposite direction. This is the ruin of Jesus' despair, the treachery of Judas, the bleak sky over Golgotha and the black water which runs beneath the hill. There is a wind moaning through this record that carries on it all the echoes of the lost souls expiring and sinking with such sad sighs of eternal futility into the cold earth. This is the three days of darkness awaiting the resurrection and the light. *-Mark Teppo* [ top of page ]
Sodom Code Red Pavement Music		This is awesome. I haven't heard thrash this hard or ripping since...ever. The power these guys generate is mindblowing. This is definitely my favorite disc for this year (1999). Angelripper and company are setting the world on fire. According to the press release it says that Code Red is named after the Marines' infamous penalization code. From the icy, industrial chill of the offbeat opening passages to the initial blast of "Code Red," your speakers will be blinking on overload. Tom Angelripper (bassist and vocalist of Sodom) screams his black heart out demolishing your angelic eardrums with hell's fury. Note I say screaming, not death metal growling, although it's not far above it on the vocal evolutionary scale. My husband likes it because he can understand the lyrics and sing along with the songs. I can't remember the last time I thought that improved music. Angelripper isn't exactly singing, but not really growling or screeching either and it adds a different element. Not that a little brutal growl doesn't escape every now and then. Now you actually can consider the lyrics, which are brilliant and violent. Bobby is such a punishing drummer...you'd think the drums would just collapse from the beating, but they seem to like it. Bernemann speeds and rips his way through chords that just shred your speakers and make all your nerves jump up and bounce about. There isn't one filler cut on this disc. The more you listen to Code Red, the more addicted you'll become to Sodom. Code Red just plows powerfully through the whole disc, Bernemann's guitar never waivers, Bobby's arms and ankles must be solid muscle, and I have serious concerns that Angelripper may be supernatural. "Code Red" is a blasting cap that sets off this frenzy of brutal thrash. "What Hell Can Create" is a stunning testament to the power of evil... "Death to my delight," indeed. "Tombstone," "Liquidation," "Spiritual Demise," "Warlike Conspiracy," each building another level in Code Red. Every track just keeps upping the ante, asking for a little bit more from the listener and giving big chunks of the band's body and soul away. By the time you get to "Cowardice," you are convinced that it can't get harder or heavier, so they slow it down momentarily and build back to a frenzy. Bobby's drumming in "Cowardice" is so perfect, beats alternate and speeds change; he's impressive. Then prepare for the final assault of "The Vice of Killing." The lyrics and the song are incredible and fast; powerful and mindboggling. After Sodom's justification manifesto of violence, you are ready for the next step up the ladder. You now understand that you are no longer on safe ground. These are the truths as they see them. You are heading deeper and deeper into the lair. "Visual Buggery," "Book Burning" and "The Wolf and the Lamb" are twisted tales that just push you deeper and deeper into the abyss. It seems that each song takes a different side of violence and evil and justifies it in Sodom's twisted eyes and minds. "Addicted to Abstinence" is the crowning moment of Code Red, it speeds headlong into nowhere. Listening to Code Red is like a wild motorcycle ride in a killer's brain bouncing around amped on the testosterone of evil. Sure it's going to leave a mark, but wasn't it intense getting there. *-Sabrina Wade-Haines* [ top of page ]

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