It's another Remix job, but unlike the harmonious and safe Goteki experiment, this album goes to almost unparralled dimensions of dementia in twisting and corrupting sounds in new and challenging ways. Right from the initial 'Tool' you're presented with something which would have made anyone from traditionally accepted masters of the both underground and commercial ends, from Test Dept to Prodigy, take a double-take, then run screaming from it. The modern day sounds are a testament to testing one's mettle.

The noise spews forth with almost vile intensity in 'Breaker', whoever (man)handles it, and the ranting messes can seem suffocating, but the muted, often mutant thrombosis coming through keeps you in your place, worried what might be coming next. It's a diverting collection, with grotesque complexion, from hyperspeed electro thrash to people having fun smashing tech-tonic plates, and creating ugly, brisk dance music from a form of Morse code only usually understood by renegade satellites.

The Dark Half are total bastards, suddenly introducing piano into the equation, but mostly these are depraved professors of sound, giving us a twilight world where Crass goes Techno, Industry goes OI, and you go and have a lie down afterwards, which is no bad thing.

It's absolutely fucking horrible, and a genuine work of art, if you're brave enough to let them seduce you with their come-hither scythes.

TOOL - NOISE PUNISHMENT
BREAKER - AMBASSADOR 21
SECTION 13 - NEEDLEYE
KNUCKLEHATE - SCHIZOID
BREAKER - APHASIC
CARDINAL - MATT GREEN
TOOL - TARANTELLA SERPENTINE
FEDRILL - TOM MILLS
CARDINAL - EXITBOY
BREAKER - UNIFORM
SOLID STATE/FEDRILL - NOISE CREATOR
KINCAID - HYDRA
CARDINAL - THE DARK HALF
TOOL - MENTAL OUTPUT
BREAKER - HIDEOUS WHEEL INVENTION
SOLID STATE - TOTAL OUTPUT
CARDINAL - ADVANCED IDEA MECHANICS
KINCAID - GERMSEED

http://www.leechwoman.com

http://www.wasp-factory.com

Leisur::Hive
On Sectional Pad/Try To Be Still (promo single)
~recieved by Uncle Nemesis

A two-track promo from the band with the interestingly-punctuated name, and a taste of what is to come - eventually - from Leisur::Hive's next album. Leisur::Hive are a band permanently stationed on the fringes of everything, ploughing their own furrow, following their own wayward muse. They've produced some splendidly quirky-but-cool music in their time, but the current incarnation of the band - featuring Mark Bishop, also of Living With Eating Disorders, on bass, and Bob Leith, sometime (currently?) of the Cardiacs on drums - packs an especially hefty wallop. Leisur::Hive may be fully paid up members of the Awkward And Arty squad, but they also know how to brew up a good old gritty rock noise, and here's where they prove it.

'On Sectional Pad' (nope, I don't have the faintest idea what that title means, either) opens up with some low-slung, fuzzed-out bass and a pounding beat, then, with a insouciant flourish on the snare it all cranks up into a full-throttle rattletrap of an avant-rock anthem. The sound is very 'live'; the drums in particular sound like they're right there in the room with you. The chorus is a mighty thing in itself, the song suddenly kicking up into a higher gear as the guitars thrash and writhe. And then, pow. It's over. The song is only two minutes and thirteen seconds long. It simply crunches to a halt, and you can almost imagine the band standing there, wearing trenchant 'What are you going to do about *that*, then?' expressions, as if daring you to demand more. 'Try To Be Still' is a slowie by comparison. A spooky, shivering thing, shot through with Maria's shuddering violin, the bass and drums having a kickabout at the back, the whole thing winding up to a peak of tension, with Dan tying himself in knots over '...a concentrate of love'.

This is oddly exhilarating music, while at the same time being just...odd music. There's real individuality here, but there's also an effortless grasp of the dynamics and sheer physical feel of ye olde electrical rock n' roll. Art-punks of the world, here are your theme songs.

The tunestack:
On Sectional Pad
Try To Be Still

The players:
Daniel Knowler: Vocals, guitar
Maria Vellanz: Guitar, violin
Mark Bishop: Bass
Bob Leith: Drums

The website: http://www.leisur-hive.co.uk

Free Leisur::Hive music downloads: http://www.ic-musicmedia.com/leisurhive

Reviewed by Uncle Nemesis: http://www.nemesis.to

Libitina
The Shadowline (Libation Records)
~reviewed by Steph Quinlan

Goth has splintered in so many directions of late that old fogeys like myself sometimes have a hard time remembering just what “goth music” sounded like back in the day. Guitars, I remember those, and drums too.  Vocals even! The recent deathrock resurgence has brought some of those sorely missed elements back to the musical landscape, and for those of us who like our goth rock with a touch of drama and balls, Libitina fits the bill quite nicely.

All the bases are covered here; the soaring vocal harmonies on “Mea Culpa”, the plangent into to “A Higher Unity”. So many of these tracks are ready-made for the dance floor; “Colours Revealed”, “Mutual Faith” and “Diomedean Exchange” are particular standouts. The vocals veer from growled imprecations to new-waveish dark pop, and the latter style definitely works best. The darker, harsher vocals are too generic, and threaten to sink the band into the realm of cliche, which would be a shame for a group as talented as this.

Shadowline is Libitina’s third full-length release, and despite the fact that the trad-goth sound of this album is at distinct odds with the EBM/cyber/electroclash/whatever-the-hell-the-rage-is-these=days, Shadowline sounds fresh and vital.

As with so many goth bands, the lyrics do tend to be rather melodramatic and overdone, but when it’s 2 AM, and you’re swirling on the dancefloor after having drunk too much cider, does it really matter?

Track listing:
1.  Matins
2.  Dirt I Cannot Wash
3.  Mea Culpa
4.  Shibboleth
5.  Colours Revealed
6.  All That I Have Ever Lost
7.  Mutual Faith
8.  A Higher Unity
9.  Diomedean Exchange
10. Lux Fiat
11. Valediction
12. Vespers

www.libitina.co.uk

Little Match Girl
S/T (Planet Ghost Records)
~reviewed by Steph Quinlan

What we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is a case of musical Attention Deficit Disorder. Little Match Girl, who are from Leeds, UK, and signed to Planet Ghost Records, have released a debut album that reminds us that you can’t please all the people all the time, and if you try, you end up pleasing no one.

Little Match Girl can’t seem to decide if they want to be old-school industrial or heavy metal. They try to do both, and succeed only in aping both genres badly. The album opens with the “computerized voice” that’s been used countless times and I can only assume it’s supposed to sound menacing. Sadly, my first thought was “Wow, this sounds so 80’s, and not in a good way.”

The first couple of tracks have a passable industrial feel to them, but after that, the album degenerates into badly executed heavy metal that bears more than a passing resemblance to Marilyn Manson.

Bad 80’s metal seems to all the rage these days, with hordes of people wetting themselves with insipid glee over The Darkness and their ilk, and I have no doubt that this album will find a comfortable home with that audience.

Towards the end of the album, Little Match Girl trys to swing back towards that good old industrial sound, but as before, they borrow heavily from already-overused sounds and effects without adding anything new.

I have nothing against borrowing sounds and styles from other genres and artists, but I do expect a bit of originality in the mix. That’s not too much to ask for is it?
 

Track Listing
1. The North/Crash Intro
2. Victim
3. A&R
4. Bullet
5. My Queen
6. Space Witch
7. Satisfaction
8. Black Days
9. Burn Me Up
10. On That Road/Some Noise
11. Version X
12. Galaxy Nation
13. Endless Madness
14. DCO

www.littlematchgirl.co.uk
www.planetghost.co.uk
 

Live Not On Evil
Lucky Stiff
~reviewed by Mick Mercer

It's a bit word receiving an album first released in 2002 for review, but when the press release compares it to 'a trainwreck in a bikini' (my kind of comparison!) and the names Bloody Dead And Sexy and Murder in The Registry crop up, as do review excerpts highlighting both rock and deathrock compatibility then I'm interested. Furthermore, it excels itself in each area, and delivers a semi-lethal punch during most of its ten tension-flooded tracks.

It's also a bit odd, for reasons we'll get too, but the main appeal has to be the way the guitars and drums kick in, because that just gets you every time. Synths lack clout. Guitar, plus drums = some weird commotion in your heart, and that's just the way it is. In fact Live Not Evil In Evil do that thing where the drums and guitar keep such time with each other that it whips up the energy even more into a meringue fit for demons with manners, and ensures the songs aren't cluttered, just sizzling. The bass fills the softer veins and the vocals are most excellent, helped by a superb production which allows them to dominate without even needing to go over the top.

It does seem like tough rock initially, but when you're singing about "an empire of scum" and there's fine shifts in jerky power, you could easily place them midway between Fugazi and Danzig. Not too sludge-driven, not too prosaic, just straight down the middle, and on fire. There's an original Death Metal feel to the drag-back riff of 'The Machine' which is a slow, grizzled spurty thing, while 'The Scary Polka' is well named, with gripping lyrics, lighter nimble guitar and a classy stompy chorus.

The oddity starts to creep in when you notice how they do cross boundaries and styles through not being showy in any way and 'Sweet' definitely reminded me of early UK Decay, circa 'Unexpected Guest', but with more full-on power. 'Fly Catcher' also brought through more of the punkier feel and that's when I thought of a suitable comparison, which I hope they can grow to emulate, as they're not quite there yet. Naked Raygun. One of the finest bands the world has ever seen, and the deftest exponents of drum power wedded to audacious guitar energy, plus fabulous invisible bass stealth and massive vocals.

They don't have the vocal punch yet, or the utter sharpness of delivery, but they have the intensity and ideas to become a truly impressive band. Yes, the vocals could have been much better on 'Fly Catcher', but then 'Lullaby For A Lost Soul' shows they can take you through the dank ditch of a slow song, and leave you happy in your own filth, and if 'Porcelain Face' has a hackneyed guitar intro, which is certainly does, it still lurches forward overall with a sense of foreboding. 'Smoked' revisits Wacko Waco with gristle and atmosphere, and 'Outside' is fluffier and open in the rockier side, making for an excellent feel to the finale, leaving you wanting a ton more of the same, or better.

It is a fantastic debut, their website is complete crap, and when's their next record due?

BRAINWASH
THE MACHINE
THE SCARY POLKA
SWEET
LULLABY FOR A LOST SOUL
FLY CATCHER
FLOWERS
PORCELAIN FACE
SMOKED
OUTSIDE

http://www.simplyfiendish.com/livenotonevil/

Melechesh
Sphynx
~reviewed by Joel Steudler

For part of my review of Melechesh's Sphynx-an instrument of sonic torture if ever there was one- I will present an unedited, stream-of-consciousness chat log that transpired as I listened to the album.  To wit:

(4:50 AM) :
this is like mercyful fate on steroids and amphetamines after a glass or two of really strong coffee.

(4:55 AM) :
I want to slap this song and tell it to shut up and just sit still for a minute.

(4:58 AM) :
aaaaaaaaagh.  this album is 11 minutes in and its still on  track 2 of... 11 ...  and its nonstop intenseness is KILLING ME!!!!

(4:59 AM) :
AAAAAAAAAA!

(4:59 AM) :
oh god it just got even faster

(5:00 AM) :
why won't the guitarist's tendons just rupture and spare the rest of us the misery?!?

(5:00 AM) :
it's giving me carpal tunnel syndrome just thinking about him playing this fast

Don't ask what I was doing awake at 5am listening to such things.  What a man does while he drains his victims of bodily fluids is his own business!  um.  As I was saying, this is an extremely EXTREME album full of such intenseness as men were not built to withstand.  It's really pretty good, in a painfully intolerable way.  Guitarists Moloch and Ashmedi must have had their ligaments fortified with steel cable.  There is no other way their wrists could survive such rapid oscillation intact.  Or they may be robots.  Cyborgs, perhaps.

It is worth noting that Melechesh is from Israel, and Sphynx is full of characteristically middle-eastern melodies and percussion... set within an extreme metal context, of course.  The guitar playing is technically impressive for the endurance it must have required as much as for it's precision and pure speed.  The drums, too, are precise and pound merrily away behind the relentless fusilade of other noises, though the production renders them a bit thin and less potent than they may have been with more of a low end kick.  I am thankful for that.  Any more intensity and I may have had a heart attack.  Some respite from the beatdown is found at track seven in the form of a very effective and moody ambient piece featuring creepy atmosphere and ghostly drums... but it comes over thirty minutes into the album, long after most weakhearted men will have perished.

Though there is quite a lot going on in each of the absurdly long songs (most run 5-7 min.), my mind tended to shut down after about the third track to preserve my cognitive reasoning faculties and my ability to think... stuff.  Maybe it didn't act soon enough.  Over an hour of this is too much for me to take.  I am old, and feeble, and there are wolves after me. If you are hyperactive, enjoy vibrating, or live in a dimension that perceives time at a rate several orders of magnitude faster than I do, this is for you.  I guess fans of extreme metal would dig it, too.  Melechesh has a mostly unique sound, which may cause you bodily harm.  Be warned.

Track List:
01.) Of Mercury And Mercury
02.) Secrets Of Sumerian Sphynxology
03.) Annunaki's Golden Thrones
04.) Apkallu Councel
05.) Tablets Of Fate
06.) Triangular Tattvic Fire
07.) The Arrival Ritual (Instrumental)
08.) Incendium Between Mirage And Time
09.) Purifier Of The Stars
10.) Caravans To Ur (Instrumental)
11.) Babylon Fell (Bonus)

Melechesh is:
Ashmedi - Vocals/Guitar
Moloch - Guitar
Al’Hazred - Bass
Proscriptor - Drums

Melechesh Official Site:
http://www.melechesh.com/

Osmose Productions:
http://www.osmoseproductions.com/

The End Records (US):
http://www.theendrecords.com/

Mephisto Walz
Nightingale EP
~reviewed by Matthew Heilman

This two-track single has been out for a while now, but I just recently received a copy of it to review from the Fossil Dungeon, and figured I’d give it a go.  I have been a longtime fan of Mephisto Walz, all the way back to the time when they had an angrier male vocalist before Christianna joined the band.  Barry Galvin (along with Valor Kand) cemented the standard guitar sound of Gothic Rock, and I have always felt that Mephisto Walz deserved a lot more attention and credit than they usually receive from the scene.  At any rate, I was glad to receive word that the band was still active and that new material was being issued.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t quite as impressed with the two songs that appear here.  While the title track is a sweeping, epic number complete with Christiana’s soft phantasmal vocals, lulling bass lines, and Barry’s signature washes of flange and chorused guitars, the song sort of lumbers on a bit too long (even for an ‘extended version’).  The biggest distracter is not so much the song itself, but the production is far too thin and tinny, and the drum machine doesn’t quite propel the song along as earnestly as a live drummer could.  “Nightingale” is basically a great song that sounds, at this point, as if it is still in the demo status and could stand to cut a verse or two.  The drum machine is a much more apparent issue in the single’s B-side, “Witches Gold.”  I immediately just felt that song was all wrong.  It’s an upbeat track, with an odd punkish rhythm to it, easily a song that once you are used to and find its groove, it will make perfect sense (it bears a slight resemblance to the band’s classic track “Kokoro”).  The guitars are, as expected majestic, and Christiana is as enchanting as ever, but the drum programs fail to properly emphasize the song’s distinctive rhythm and again, too much treble and not enough warmth and punch.

I sit here uncomfortable and anxious with the thought “who the hell are you to tell Mephisto Walz how to write a song” but my advice is this: consider assembling a full band.  Record these tracks (and whatever other new material is in the works) with a full line up.  Do not at all sacrifice the distinctive sound of the band, don’t pull a Faith & The Muse and try to get all edgy and contemporary on us, but find a way for these songs to reach their most powerful potential.  Sure, Mephisto Walz has utilized a drum machine for many years, but the sound of the drum machine dates the music quite a bit and to these critical ears, I just hear wasted potential.  Assembling a band of likeminded and dependable musicians is much easier said than done these days, but I can’t help but ask: where is David Glass and what’s he been up to?

In the meantime, these songs are wonderful blueprints of what could be and I am sure other fans will not be so distracted by the production flaws I have sited.  I hope that it is not long before Mephisto Walz come pounding back into the forefront again with a loud, shimmering powerful record and reaffirm their status as forerunners of Gothic Rock as we know it.  With the appreciation of the old school slowly on the upswing, there could be no better time for the band to re-emerge with all the right ammunition.  For those of you that still don’t have “Terra-Regina” “Thalia” and the compilation of early recordings in your collection, rectify these omissions post haste.

Tracks:
1.) Nightingale
2.) Witches Gold

Mephisto Walz is:
Barry Galvin – guitars, drum programs, synths, bass
Christianna - vocals

Mephisto Walz – Official Site:
http://www.mephistowalz.com

The Fossil Dungeon:
http://www.fossildungeon.com

John Collins’ Mephisto Walz fan site:
http://rozznet.com/collins/mephistowalz/mephistowalzweb.html
 

Morning After
Beneath The Real
~reviewed by Joel Steudler

When is the best time to stage an intervention for someone you care about?  Probably before they go out and do something awful to hurt themselves or have a negative impact on the lives of innocent people.  Someone should definitely have intervened before Tasos Iliopoulos laid down the vocal tracks for Morning After's new album Beneath The Real.  His singing (and growling) couldn't be more comically horrifying even if he specifically set out to mockingly imitate a metal singer.  Guitarist/everything-else-but-drums guy Melios Iliopoulos is Tasos's brother.  Causing discord between family members is never desirable, but really man - smack your sibling around a bit and knock some sense into him!  He's ruining your chances at finding an audience.

It's quite difficult to ignore the vocals and hear the music beneath, but my highly trained ear is up to the task.  Morning After plays a mostly pedestrian combination of American nu-metal (think: Linkin Park) and 'classic' metal (think: hair band from the 80's.  Warrant, maybe.  Great White, even).  Mr. Melios handles the instruments with aplomb, professionally executing his duties on all fronts.   The production is fine, rendering a clear sound.  If the compositions were more atful or interesting, I'd have enjoyed Beneath The Real more, but they are more workmanlike than they are enthralling.

The vocals, though... the vocals.  Maybe I can find something nice to say.  Mr. Tasos stays on key, occasionally.  He could be mistaken for a dog during some of his high notes.  Wait... that wasn't nice.  I'll try again.  He theatrically over-emotes every single lyric.  Augh!  I can't seem to come up with anything else nice to say.  Even his growly monster vocals are funny rather than scary or powerful.  At least he doesn't have a high pitched screech.  His mid-range vocal tone is not ear shattering.   That is the best I can do for positive comments.

I can't recommend this album to anyone.  Maybe people in Greece like this sort of thing, I don't know.  I do know that when judging Beneath The Real against any number of genres of metal to which it is similar, it falls flat.  The hideous singing totally overshadows any positive merits the music exhibits.  Melios Iliopoulos is, at least, a skilled musician.  I hate to pit brother against brother, but Melios should run away from home and join a real band.  He's doing himself no favors by keeping things all in the family.

Track List:
01.) Free to Heal
02.) Day of the Moon
03.) Heavy Waves
04.) Asthenia
05.) Hell in Heaven
06.) Beneath the Real
07.) Trains in Dust
08.) Burning Time
09.) Let Myself Flow
10.) Instability
11.) Outro (Answers)

Morning After is:
Tasos Iliopoulos - vocals
Melios Iliopoulos - bass / guitars / synths
Fotis Giannakopoylos - drums

Black Lotus Records:
http://www.black-lotus-recs.com/

The End Records (US):
http://www.theendrecords.com
 

My Dying Bride
Songs of Darkness, Words of Light
~reviewed by Eric Rasmussen

Aaron Stainthorpe, infamous vocalist of My Dying Bride (MBD), switches smoothly between depressed crooning, menacing rasps, and a very dramatic clean voice that sounds remarkably like the narrator in Disneyland's The Haunted House ride. I mention this, because listening to Songs of Darkness, Words of Light is rather like going on Disney's famed ride. At least, if the ride lulled you into a false sense of security, opened an abyss to the underworld, and dumped you headlong into a bleak surrealistic nightmare of longing and loss.

Maybe it's not so much like the ride after all. But if you're in the right frame of mind, MDB immerses you into a deep and moving soundscape that captures human suffering like no other. The doomy guitar riffs set the tone and pacing (often mid-tempo or slower, but with some more epic and slightly faster numbers), and the deliberate, purposeful drumbeats hail impending doom at every turn. The keyboards fill out the sound with sweeping orchestras, creepy organs, and soft piano, and act as a cushioning backdrop for all of the painful emotion.

The vocals, however, are the real draw to MDB's patented sound. Although Stainthorpe tends to travel into lugubrious, melodramatic territory, I never get the feeling that he does so to lead the listener into feeling a particular way - he's just really, really upset. It's easy to pass off MDB's music as being somewhat silly, if you aren't in a receptive frame of mind. This style of doom metal is very mood based, and will in no way appeal to people who are perfectly content with their current situations and life in general.

I have heard enough MDB to assert that Songs of Darkness, Words of Light is a very worthwhile addition to the MDB catalogue, and is no doubt a must have for fans. I can't say to what extent the band is retreading their old territory or breaking new ground, but as a relative newcomer to MDB, I can tell you that metal fans who've put off listening to the band should quit lollygagging around and get to it. Songs of Darkness, Words of Light won't depress the happy, but its darkly beautiful yet sepulchral tone will provide great comfort to the downcast.

Track List:
1) The Wreckage of My Flesh
2) The Scarlet Garden
3) Catherine Blake
4) My Wine in Silence
5) The Prize of Beauty
6) The Blue Lotus
7) And My Fury Stands Ready
8) A Doomed Lover

My Dying Bride is:
Aaron Stainthorpe - vocals
Ade Jackson - bass
Andrew Craighan - guitar
Hamish Glencross - guitar
Shaun Taylor-Steels - drums
Sarah Stanton - keyboards

My Dying Bride - Official Site:
http://www.mydyingbride.org/

Peaceville Records:
http://www.peaceville.com/
 

My Dying Bride
Songs Of Darkness, Words Of Light
~reviewed by Matthew Heilman

It’s quite difficult to be critically objective about your all-time favourite band.  As I have said before in reviews of My Dying Bride, I can count on this band to produce exactly what it is that I as a fan have come to expect and what I have yearned to hear.  My Dying Bride perfected and defined the elements that make up dark Gothic Metal, and while many imitators have come and gone, they still remain secured upon their seemingly indestructible thrones, as the reigning kings of Romantic misery.   It must be stressed however that My Dying Bride has not just repeatedly rehashed the same formulaic material.  They were fated to work within the parameters of an expressive style of music that elicits a variety of approaches and delivery.  They are one of the most focused bands that continually develop and thoroughly explore their potential. The themes they dwell upon deal with the innate truths that most questioning humans face: the joyous as well as disastrous effects of love and the mysteries of religion and death.  As long as the members of this band continue to suffer through these uncertainties, they can find ways to invoke fear, sadness, longing, and hope with their guitar melodies, vocal expressions, and flourishes of tasteful synthetic orchestration.  As long as the poetic man feels pain, and as long as he yearns to transcend his existential obstacles, My Dying Bride will have ample material to produce.  It all sounds so ridiculously overdramatic and exaggerated, but it is the stark simple truth. They found their niche and the well is far from having dried.

Longtime fans of this band will understand what I am driving at. MDB has never been everyone’s cup of tea.  A lot of dark metal fans have raised a great many valid critical points about the band, but for whatever reason, as I grow wearier with the dark metal scene and what it has to offer, My Dying Bride has never disappointed me and the few shortcomings they do have in terms of the way they chose to perform their music or its common sound have never succeeded in turning me away.  I can’t help but respond with transfixed awe at whatever they do.  Their work never fails to resonate within me.   They are the only band I can listen to in any mood, at any given moment.  I inevitably fall under their spell even at my most resistant.

Whenever a band that has been active for many years releases a new album, it is difficult not to compare it to past albums.  But when My Dying Bride releases an album, I see it merely as an extension to their legacy, an additional chapter to a tale that will hopefully never reach its end.  So it is with Christian Death, Current 93, the Legendary Pink Dots, and other prolific dark bands.  Perhaps people could have applied this phenomenon to Pink Floyd, or Led Zeppelin and The Beatles at one time too.  Whatever the case, with Songs Of Darkness, Words Of Light, there is another masterful addition to My Dying Bride’s artistic legacy.  And that is really all that matters.

This time around, the band seems to be wallowing in darker, more confrontational realms.  Though they are not altogether absent, the band’s trademark use of evocative twin guitar harmonies is utilized sporadically throughout this release.  In their place appear more massive, dense, and nightmarish guitar chords. There is a greater focus on what can be accomplished through rhythm as opposed to melody alone.  To say directly, most of this album is heavy as fuck!  MDB is a band in the strictest sense, in that all of the players work in unison, the instrumentation being very concise and all encompassing.  Though the guitars are at the forefront, everything comes together to create a coherent impenetrable wall of sound.  There are a lot of unexpected shifts in dynamics, weird guitar effects (including what sounds like an ebow, which I never really noticed before in their material) and some discordant feedback modulations.  Sarah’s keyboard contributions do not distract from the songs’ organic structures, but instead succeed in fleshing out the decayed atmosphere with subtlety.  Her accompaniment consists of chilling pianos, subtle strings, and droning pipe organs and other tasteful orchestral offerings that help fully realize the band’s timeless sound.  The drums pound away with precision and finesse, anchoring most of the album at a dirge-like, Doom-laden pace.  As always, there are those climactic, energized gallops that crackle and cut through the atmosphere of dreary contemplation to reach an epic explosion of rage, yearning, or frantic passion.  The pinnacle of which reveals the band’s Death Metal roots, but these aggressive excursions always remain tempered with the refined grace that only this band is capable of.

Vocally, Aaron also has a few new tricks up his sleeve.  He experiments with more layering effects, pairing icy shrieks and guttural growls for the more frenzied moments, yet he also perfects more cerebral conceits consisting of whispers and ‘clean’ vocals.  He sings with a soaring pinch on a few tracks, treading the fine line between major and minor keys for a rather refreshing effect, that ultimately makes the other passages sound ever darker.  Some narrative recitations appear, a device rarely used by Aaron, and the effect is similar to what Iron Maiden did with Coleridge’s “Ancient Mariner.”  Something about the English, Romantic poetry, and Heavy Metal indeed.  Aaron’s passionate and effective nasally tenor is as riddled with unrest and defeat as it ever was.  He pleads to God with an astonishingly powerful need in one unforgettable passage on the track “The Prize Of Beauty.”   It invokes an image of a man on his knees, in desperation and in dire need of emotional rescue, pleading for the mercy of a God he has no doubt is well-attuned to his cries, but persists on ignoring them.  I happened to buy this CD right before I had seen Mel Gibson’s controversial film, and I couldn’t help but notice the artistic parallels between Jim Caveziel’s anguished private prayers to God and Aaron’s theatrical performances / cathartic expressions in this band.  Listening to this disc on the way home from the theatre was one of those rare moments where all your hobbies and artistic distractions somehow manage to synthesize, and the feeling was one of fullness and understanding.  However lame it may sound!

While tracks like “The Prize of Beauty” and “The Wreckage Of My Flesh” seem to delve deeper into Aaron’s own personal religious uncertainties, there are other more fantastical lyrical elements as well.  Though no less genuine, Aaron’s storytelling reaches its zenith in both “Catherine Blake” and “The Blue Lotus.”   The first of these two songs is unique in that it appears to be about a woman on her deathbed (the characterization summons the image of the invalid, consumptive Victorian female archetype) who is tormented with apocalyptic visions.  The first half of the song is steeped in funereal erotic mystery, the guitars and vocals entwining together as if in grief or sexual ecstasy, before the song charges into more nihilistic pastures, detaching from the isolated disintegration of one particular woman to reflect the disintegration of the entire world as we know it.

“The Blue Lotus” on the other hand, bravely ignores the inevitable cries of purist pretension and recounts a tale of vampirism, steeped in a folkloric and literary Gothic style.  In effect, the track sort of picks up where Dani Filth left off on “Dusk & Her Embrace” when he exchanged his knack for graveyard poetry and embraced shock tactics instead.  Aaron narrates the propulsive track with Filthish sepulchral tones, as the character stumbles through a moonlit sylvan setting to reach an ominous castle, which houses a seductive horror only rumoured to exist.  Lust and curiosity spur the man onward to a sanguine oblivion.  The poem is rendered beautifully; the music accompanying it is suitably diabolical and decadent, evoking a masterful balance between horror and romance, metallic crunch and Gothic elegance.

“A Doomed Lover” also stands out in that it is perhaps one of My Dying Bride’s purest Doom Metal songs.  Though always referred to as a Doom Metal band, My Dying Bride more regularly utilize a variety of tempos and atmospheres to create a more momentous Gothic Metal sound, not limiting itself to the uncompromising density and slowness associated with Doom Metal.  They have moments of pure Doom, but haven’t often produced a song so concentrated to be referred to as such.  This track however is pitch black and seething with cacophonic darkness, and is quite focused all the way to its finale.  “A Doomed Lover” is perhaps the band at their rawest in many years, stripped to stark simplicity and all the more powerful in its lumbering, minimalist crunch.

I am still absorbing much of this album, and each time I listen to it I find more to enjoy.  Longtime fans I trust will be anything but disappointed, and new fans could be hooked just as easily with this release as they could by any of the other masterpieces in this band’s discography.  After all these years, this is still Gothic music at its absolute finest.

Tracks:
1.) The Wreckage Of My Flesh
2.) The Scarlet Garden
3.) Catherine Blake
4.) My Wine In Silence
5.) The Prize Of Beauty
6.) The Blue Lotus
7.) And My Fury Stands Ready
8.) A Doomed Lover

My Dying Bride is:
Aaron – vocals, lyricist
Andrew – guitar
Hamish – guitar
Adrian – bass
Shaun – drums
Sarah – keyboard

My Dying Bride – Official Site:
http://www.mydyingbride.org

Peaceville Records:
http://www.peaceville.com
 

Mistress
II: The Chronovisor
~reviewed by Joel Steudler

Apparently, Mistress practices a genre of metal called 'sludge' by some.  The goal, I guess, is to be as filthy and debased and wretched as possible.  Mission accomplished! II: The Chronovisor is  grimy and disgusting and without much in the way of redeeming qualities... socially or musically.  It is brutal, which some people like, but brutality for the sake of brutality has never appealed to me.  I like music that has, well, music in it.  This doesn't.

Churning riffs, gravel-throated shouts, and belching death vocals abound throughout the length of Chronovisor.  The aforementioned riffs, though, aren't much more than repeated powerchords, making them anything but interesting.  'How low can you go' seems to be the question Mistress asked when crafting the guitar tone for the album.  The answer, it seems, is 'pretty low'.  Since they went to the trouble to get down there, they rarely leave for higher ground.  The death vocal blurts stay in a similarly subterranean frequency range, unintelligibly proclaiming doom.  The grating gravel rasps are so abrasive they could be used for sandpaper.

I recognize that there are people who like to listen to this sort of thing.  Why?  What about it is at all appealing?  I know that many people who have more mainstream tastes would ask the same of much of what I like, but I can usually point out some redeeming musical merit in the bands I enjoy.  Many bands feature technically amazing musicians.  Mistress doesn't.  Others have a talented singer.  None of those on Chronovisor.  Some bands excel at songwriting, crafting interesting compositions that engage the mind and emotions.  Mistress?  Well, they inspire one emotion in me.  Revulsion.  There is nothing worth listening to here for anyone whose tastes are similar to mine.  Or for a lot of people with tastes dissimilar to mine.

If you like to listen to people idiotically scream obscenities in grating tones while banging out artless noise on their instruments, you'll love Mistress and their sludge.  Where I'm from, we have a synonym for 'sludge' that has worked its way into the vulgar tongue.  It seems appropriate for use when describing this album.  What's the word I'm referring to?  "Crap".

Track List:
01.) Rats Piss
02.) Psychic one inch punch
03.) Hell is Other People
04.) Wanker Colony
05.) The Chronovisor
06.) Hit Bottom
07.) No Memory
08.) Piss for Blood, Shit for Brains
09.) 38
 

Mistress is:
a bunch of foul losers.

Rage Of Achilles Records:
http://www.rageofachilles.clara.net/

The End Records (US):
http://www.theendrecords.com
 

MYSSOURI
WAR/LOVE BLUES (Furnace Songs)
~review by Mick Mercer
 

nidus (n) a nest or breeding-place: a place where anything is originated, harboured, developed or fostered: a place of lodgement or deposit: a point of infection: a nerve-centre

So, greatness then. Here it is. Cast in the form of a Dark Country hybrid, of which I know little, but the tainted resonance of other bands come swimming back into my mind. In fact during the late 80’s/early 90’s one of my all time favourite bands, The Galley Slaves merged country with Irish folk and created something similar to the glories here, as did someone else we’ll mention later. The Galleys took the ironic love song route, but Myssouri have death on their palette, and paint with intricacy over a disquieting wash.

I am truly indebted to Blu for her interview with them in Starvox which alerted me to this mighty band and during a year when I have already lost count of the number of great albums which have arrowed in through my ears and given my brain a fearful kicking, this one stands prouder than the rest, for here is a band - and don’t laugh – who make the kind of music, rich in lyrical power and cool in downplayed musical expertise, that U2 fool themselves into believing they’re either capable of, or actually producing. This is modern rock which spreads like spilled ink over a template of traditions. No-one need be put off by the term Dark Country, as it isn’t a constant theme, and what is country at its best but the most supreme form of music for story-telling? And if those stories just happen to be dark, then all the better. And I don’t see anyone doing it better than this.

As with all stunning bands it only takes one song, ‘Road Boy Blues’ in this case, and will give your first glimpse of the lyrics;

 
”Your body figures in my future with a boa’s tender tether,
I’ve got a love to shelter us like a flesh and bones umbrella”

The blues motif disintegrates into a country chug around which Goth vocals style entwine, then rasp in explosive ferment, showering dust and rust over a glorious commercial potential. For all their diligence in not shying away from a hugely literate enterprise there is no pomposity here, not when they have such musical power to unload. Strongly delineated, regardless of the surging noise, they nail you time and time again.

‘Terrible Love’ then droops down and patters by with low, mashed steel guitar, then spurts off in a super-fast dash, a scratchy delay and a swift drop into a worrying hole, where lyrical ideas beset your head, like disturbing terrified bats in a cave.

Michael Bradley is the host, and a lugubrious storyteller who has a manner and selfless authority in displaying bruised romanticism in a way Nick Cave will simply never master, and you’re submerged quickly in the musical liquid of ‘March To The Sea’, drowning in its curious depths, often buffeted by the exultant drums of Chris Reeves, and guided by the miraculously invisible bass of Cade Lewis. Honestly, you know he’s there and you can concentrate on it, but the glow he provides inside these songs is quite something, as Mark Rogers wafts the attention this way and that with his guitars.

With ‘The Floorless Jig’ we embark on quite a stirring song of a murderer thrilled, a la Turpin, with his own reputation, and here we have suitable sleaze grind, which scatters the bones of The Cramps to the four winds, and everything feels filthy beneath the scabrous vocals.

By total contrast, ‘Orphan Song’ is beautifully moving, and made captivating by the constantly revolving repetition of words that creates the melody and rhythm, and when we descend into the madness of ‘My Only Love’ the truest comparison I can give is back to The Folk Devils and the Ian Lowery Group, both of which had Ian’s take on an American seamy underbelly. Myssouri naturally do it better, because they’re steeped in it themselves, and this particular song really lets loose with some upright vocal drama into a tormented whirlpool of emotion, from which we are led out by a swampy guitar waltz.

There isn’t a single song here that you don’t welcome on return visits, excited by the prospect once more. In fact the only problem with the record at all is some rather drab artwork, and I have finally initiated a once in a life time star rating for an album in this journal.

‘Down In Flames’ is gorgeous and jaunty. I’m surprised Bradley isn’t whistling over the Kinks-like walking bass opener, or the keyboard trill near the end, as he jiggles around sensational wordplay about a mad couple, in a union which seemed doomed from the start:
 

”She dressed in red, on the day that we wed”

‘Rictus’ also shows they can strike hard and low, with a brisk rock growl, before opening up, saturated in heavenly sighing, and ‘The Eyes Of Others’ sees the traditional lone guitar weeping which seems fitting for a song seemingly awash in self-pity until the final line surreally spins everything on its head. It’s maybe ‘I Got It All’ that signals the real modern impact this band could have. True, there is more than a whiff of Fleetwood Mac about it (circa 1975), possibly because it’s chirpy, but as the sly, weighted delivery trots out I think you’ll soon be agreeing with me that this is the finest song Cobain never got to include on Nevermind.

Absorbing and challenging throughout, I love this album. It is quite magnificent.
 

”I’ve looted my life
to the very walls
to find the nidus of my discontent
I do recall
That I had
the gall
to give up church
for Lent”

ROAD BOY BLUES
TERRIBLE LOVE
MACH TO THE SEA
THE FLOORLESS JIG
ORPHAN SONG
THE OTHER PEOPLE’S MONEY STOMP
MY ONLY LOVE
DOWN IN FLAMES
RICTUS
THE EYES OF OTHERS
I GOT IT ALL
TEASER STALLION BLUES (EXCERPT)

http://www.myssouri.com
 

Necrodeath
Tones of Hate
~reviewed by Joel Steudler

I should like Tones of Hate more than I do.  I mean, Necrodeath plays a very tight, technically adept thrash/black metal hybrid style.  The album is very well produced.  Every song is packed with brutal riffs.  They even vary the pace from track to track, and within tracks, for that matter... what's not to like, then?  I really can't put my finger on it.

The excellent songwriting is certainly not diminishing my enjoyment of the album.  Necrodeath vary the tempo from 'blistering assault' to 'fast and serious, but not quite ripping your face off'.  They often transition into and out of warp-drive multiple times in a song, which keeps things from becoming predictable.  The propulsive periods of acceleration and slam-the-brakes slowdowns are handled adroitly by Peso's considerable skill pounding the skins.  He crafts a more interesting percussive soundscape than one typically finds on a metal album by adding in an assortment of ringing dingers and toms that sound like they're from deep in the jungle.  Coupled with the punch-in-the-gut clarity of the drum recordings, Peso's performance is a real treat.

There's nothing to find fault with regarding the guitars, either.  While these riffs have doubtlessly been heard before (what riff hasn't?), they range from 'intense and brutal' to 'brooding and dangerous'.  Guitarist Claudio is locked into the groove with Peso and together their instruments deliver repeated crushing blows.  Stylistically, his riffs fall squarely on the shoulders of old thrash metal, echoing Overkill more than anyone else I can come up with.  Solos aren't part of Claudio's repertoire for the most part, but the few that he works in come about organically and serve the music well.  Additionally, when they appear, the solos deliver yet another pacing changeup and relax the mood slightly before the next wave of aural attack begins.

Even Flegias's phlegmatic black metal rasp isn't too off-putting.  I didn't care for it at first, but I got used to it as I listened to the album a few times, and now it doesn't bother me at all... except for his tendency to crescendo his blaaAAHHHHHaasss which seems like overdoing it a little.  I will admit that I don't care for the Marylin Manson-ish album cover art.  Can a bad album cover be claimed as a legitamate grievance against a band?  Insofar as it colored my view of Necrodeath's 'Tones of Hate', I guess it can.  Otherwise, it's a first rate, bonebreaking black-thrash album.  So don't listen to me gripe about mysterious non-flaws.  If you like metal -and the fact that you've read all this suggests that you probably didn't stumble in here looking for cookie recipes- this is an album you should own.

Track List:
01.) Mealy Mouthed Hypocrisy
02.) Perseverance Pays
03.) The Mark of Dr. Z
04.) The Flag
05.) Queen of Desire
06.) Petition for Mercy
07.) Last Tones of Hate
08.) Evidence from Beyond
09.) Bloodstain Pattern

Necrodeath is:
Flegias - vocals
Claudio - guitars
John - bass
Peso - drums

Necrodeath Official Site:
http://www.necrodeath.com/

Scarlet Records:
http://www.scarletrecords.it

The End Records (US):
http://www.theendrecords.com

On Thorns I Lay
Egocentric
~reviewed by Joel Steudler

Depressing metal does not excite me.  That should come as no surprise, given its nature.  It is hard to muster any enthusiasm for an album like 'Egocentric' from On Thorns I Lay.  Fifty minutes of mid-paced mope-metal is a good way to bore anyone into a coma, particularly if you don't have exceptional compositions or performances to give the album shape and depth.  'Egocentric' doesn't have either.  The album is hardly unlistenable, and in fact is pleasant sonic wallpaper, but it certainly doesn't command listeners' attention.

The band wavers between a number of stylistic approaches over the course of the album, but generally lands somewhere around 'prog-ish gothy quasi-metal'.  It's Rock'n'lull, if you will.  For each heavy rocker, there's a dingy sleeper.  While listening to 'Egocentric', I was reminded at various times of Alice in Chains, Korn, REM, Katatonia, Morrissey, and the early 90's alternative sound.  Nothing on this album, though, would be anything more than filler from any of those artists.

No new ground is broken with the band's reliance on formulaic instrumentation, mostly featuring only guitar, bass, and drums.  An occasional viola line or keyboard effect will creep into and slink out of a song now and then, but it hardly makes a dent in the drudgery.  I can't say that the individual performances are bad, as such.  They're fine, really, and nicely recorded... just run of the mill.  Musicians such as these who are clearly proficient at playing their given instruments should be able to come up with something a little more creative than they have, though... and that's the main problem I have with 'Egocentric'.

If the song structures, riffs, vocals, and melodies weren't so generically bland, On Thorns I Lay may have had a worthwhile album on their hands.  Lead singer Minos's monotonous clean speak-singing  doesn't help matters, either.  Like everything else on the album, his vocals are generally inoffensive but lack the spark of artistic inspiration that is present in all great music.  If you are looking for a sleep aid, or really enjoy music that has no discernable character of its own, check this album out.  I, however, hope the bandmates check their egos at the door on their next trip to the recording studio and take this advice: try writing creative music!

Track List:
01.) Life can Be
02.) Poster on a Wall
03.) Afraid to Believe
04.) Unsung Songs
05.) Lack in Resorts
06.) Gallant Nights
07.) When I'm Gone
08.) Rampant of K-ism
09.) Dawn of Loss
10.) Quotation for Listening

On Thorns I Lay is:
Chris - guitars
Stefanos - bass
Minas - guitars/vocals
Fotis - drums

On Thorns I Lay Official Site:
http://www.onthornsilay.com/

Black Lotus Records:
http://www.black-lotus-recs.com/

The End Records (US):
http://www.theendrecords.com

Ordeal by Fire
Roots and the Dust
~reviewed by Mick Mercer

To say it's been a good year so far for CDs would be something of an understatement. Hot on the heels of yesterday's great album comes a feisty EP from some Italian greats in a new band. Michele Piccolo (Burning Gates) and bassist Fabrizio (Wasteland), along with 'xxx' on drums and Riccardo Perugini on guitar bring us Goth Rock, as in GOTH Rock, if you get my meaning? It's a killer release.

Let's side-slip and discuss their idea of including 'New Dark Age', an old Sound song. Adrian Borland was/is one of the greatest songwriters of modern times, and sadly killed himself due to mental problems, just when it seemed he may have conquered his worst demons. The Outsiders were an unusual band during the Punk era, The Sound were totally magnificent and really twice the band, artistically, than Joy Division were, but them's the breaks. Now, not only do Ordeal By Fire cover the song well, they successfully tread the hot coals between grim intensity and double-edged celebration.

Not only that, but their own songs sound just as good, both in confident delivery and composition. 'Re-Creation' is so hungry it just eats your face off with a fierce guitar that romps across sturdy drums, as gruffly noble vocals (in English) blurt out. It has a wonderfully chunky production, and the song turns on the stamping drums. This is Eighties power (think 'Preacher Man' crossed with the more direct attack of Play Dead), given a new sense of perspective. They take the best elements of the past, then kick into modern attack, to produce an epic opener, followed by a more jittery tune, with cool drum into, and bass so deep it twangs, still tucking pretty moments into the shadowy bulk. 'Obsession' is a Baudelaire poem, not that I'd know, so it flows like Goth wine, as the music pitches and tosses, carrying our roaring sailors forward in their homemade vessel. Bon voyage!

New Model Tsunami

RE-CREATION
RIVER IN FLOOD
OBSESSION
NEW DARK AGE

http://www.ordealbyfire.it

Other Day
Karmapolis
~reviewed by Mick Mercer

Although there are many lyrics in English on this album, the fact that much of the deeper spoken/sung male offerings is in German means something deep and meaningful is lost on me, which is a shame. Evidently, it's been three years since their last album and it took them a year to record this one. They use synths and electronics in what they see as a classical method, with no Industrial or Electro intrusion, setting you up for a moody encounter.

Steffi Hensel offers dreamy female vocals, offsetting the dark, intellectualised male approach, and the album starts with a powerful but serene flow, and rarely lets up. The distinct instrumentation throughout the album is always dominated by the vocals, and you're not getting any ethereal lightness here, because they have a full sound, which is sensibly never cluttered. These do have a modern classical composition feel about them, so if that's what makes you tingle I'd advise a visit to their site. Think a younger Goethes Erben and you're more than halfway there.

'Armenia' finds a different whirling rhythm, and sees them whoosh upwards halfway, suggesting they do understand volume and it isn't all a pleasant drift through pain and loneliness (their main lyrical concerns). Musically, they have their interesting touches, 'An Uns Vorbel' being layered drones, and 'Hauchendes Zart' so perkily classical you know they recorded in tutus, for all their intense facial expressions. Their occasional slide into 80's synth rock signatures is unwelcome but brief, as is the lovey-dovey sweetness of their most optimistic track, 'Natales', but they end the experience with a track of modern news samples to put things in a bewildering context.

A beautiful record then, but a knowledge of German would make the experience twice as good.

INTRUE
DREAMING
GETRAUTE STADT
ARMENIA
AN UNS VORBEL
AWAKENING
BELVEDERE
DU GEHST
NATALES
HAUCHENDES ZART
NACHSPIEL

http://www.pandaimonium.com

http://www.otherday.de

Penis Flytrap
Dismemberment
~reviewed by Matthew Heilman

For those that aren’t already aware, Penis Flytrap was lead by Dinah Cancer, the scream queen vocalist of LA Death Rock legends 45 Grave.  Her latest project has been releasing material and touring for quite a few years now, and if I am not mistaken, I believe this is the first full-length release by PFT.

“Dismemberment” is a tight, blistering album of thrash punk anthems, characterized by highly charged drumming, razor sharp guitar riffs, and rumbling metallic bass lines.  Dinah’s rhythmic vocal chants punctuate the frantic music with seething venom and nefarious grandeur, and her vocal power and convincing delivery reaffirms her place alongside female punk pioneers like Becky Bondage (Vice Squad) and Poly Styrene (Xray Spex).  PFT’s sound is altogether fresh, edgy and familiar, and certainly energized with enough attitude to bulldoze its way right through all the whiney mall pop music that passes for punk in these sad, sad times.

It is not until about the halfway point of the album that PFT offers a respite from the relentless formula for tracks like “Scream My Darling” and “Burn Witch Burn.” Though these songs succeed in disrupting the consistently fast tempos a bit for more developed, slower songs, they do not pack as great a punch even with a darker more ‘spooky’ atmosphere at the forefront.  Instead, they somewhat highlight the band’s lyrical shortcomings and without the intense punk fueled accompaniment, the bottom basically falls right out.  “Burn Witch Burn” does however build to a memorable climax of cacophonic guitar wails, banging drums, and Dinah’s bewitching demand, “Release me!”   After these few tracks (including the short bass led instrumental tease, “Caves Of Cassandra” that perhaps could have developed into a rather good song?) the band return to the same blazing formulas.  Dinah, however, takes a few steps back from the mic to allow the rest of the band to contribute vocals for the blistering B-Movie blasphemy of  “Say You Love Satan.”

While I could complain and say there really isn’t enough variety on the disc, it seems kind of apparent that the few attempts to deviate from what the band does best were bad moves.  The slower songs don’t work quite as well and the male vocals pale in comparison to Dinah’s imposing chants.  My only real critique of this disc is more or less a personal one, and that is that I am just not really into the whole ‘horror punk thing.’  This is merely a matter of preference and I kinda thought the reason most Goths dismiss Metal were for the very thematic and lyrical elements celebrated by Penis Flytrap.  Though I suppose the difference between PFT and most contemporary Black Metal bands is that PFT are admittedly having fun and expressing their macabre sense of humour and love of bad horror films, and PFT thankfully lack any kind of ominous, grandiose pose as evil incarnate.

I will be the first to admit I am an uptight traditionalist bastard that prefers the subtle repressed chills of a film like “The Others” to the comedic gross out excess of “Return Of The Living Dead.”  The same holds true for me musically.  Though I completely understand where PFT are coming from, their manner of championing darkness is from a completely different mode of thought than my own and I can’t help but prefer the more ‘serious’ bands out there that explore these themes from a more subversive and psychological angle.  Humour merely numbs the impact of horror, whether it be intentional or not.  Indeed a whole new breed of entertainment has been fostered by the marriage of black humour and horrific excess, but nonetheless, there is little to fear.  So little is left to raise the hairs on the back of your neck.  No relentless nightmares, no unknown terrors shrieking in vengeful despair from beyond.  I suppose when I think of Death Rock, this is just far too much ‘fun’ for me to feel comfortable applying that term (*Death Rock to me being embodied by early Christian Death, Skeletal Family, Spiritual Bats, and Cinema Strange at their absolute darkest).  But I seem to be a minority there.  It’s all rhetoric and what not, but I think the term ‘ghoul punk’ or ‘horror punk’ is much better suited to bands like PFT, 45 Grave, Frankenstein, Bella Morte, etc.  This, however, is all incidental and straying from the matter at hand.

Ultimately, regardless of my personal tastes or whatever the hell genre PFT fall into, the musical attack demonstrated here is well worth a thousand praises. Producer William Faith did an excellent job capturing the band’s raw intensity in a way that it practically reaches out from the CD player and shakes you senseless.  Dinah as well deserves credit for sticking to her guns and not allowing herself to fade into mere myth alone.  The music is fantastic for what it is and though the lyrics and imagery are adolescent at their best, I won’t just write this off as a bad release just because I don’t suspect I will listen to it much.  The appeal of this disc is glaringly clear for those that rejoice in the more mischievous aspects of evil and hopefully, PFT will inevitably find its way into the collections of those appropriate music fans the world over, roaming the local cemeteries in worn leather and tattered fishnet, in search of fresh brains.

Tracks:
1.) The Dead Hate The Living
2.) Fucked By The Devil
3.) Tears Of Blood
4.) Cemetery Girl
5.) Belladonna
6.) Scream My Darling
7.) Burn Witch Burn
8.) Caves Of Cassandra
9.) Dark One
10.) Girl In The Basement
11.) Say You Love Satan
12.) Now
13.) The Living Hate The Dead

Penis Flytrap is:
Dinah Cancer – vocals
Lucifer Fulci – bass/vocals
Elvorian Von Spivey – guitar/vocals
Hal Satan – drums/vocals

Penis Flytrap – Official Site:
http://www.penisflytrap.net

Pride and Fall
Nephesh
~reviewed by Eric Rasmussen

Reviewing electronica has led me to ponder the question: why does EBM typically suck? Pride and Fall plays EBM, and does not suck at all. In fact, they're quite good, and they've inadvertently answered my question. Most EBM sucks because it lacks any sort of vision or creativity, the two elements that can imbue otherwise lifeless techno beats with depth and vitality. Pride and Fall has mixed goth, metal, and trance into one of the best EBM CDs I've ever heard. However, they manage to do so with the typical array of EBM noises - string swells, fast techno beats, catchy melodies, depressed singing. Pride and Fall uses the standard ingredients, they just manipulate them to incorporate the aesthetics and feelings of other genres.

I often joke that EBM is made by sad robots, because only sad robots could devise such inhuman, precise, and ultimately boring depressed dreck. Pride and Fall's members are clearly not robots. They work a very human vibe into their soundscapes. This is partly done through the rhythm, thanks to little percussion fills and tempo changes (which are rare in EBM). Mostly, however, Sigve Monsen's depressed gothy vocals and occasional rasps make the music more interesting than the standard filler. He sounds like a cross between recent Mortiis and Icon of Coil, and he successfully communicates gloom despite the rather nonsensical lyrics he sings.

Nephesh features a pulse, in a way that many CDs do not. This pulse is not defined merely by tempo. Rather, it's more of a heartbeat just under the surface of the music - a hard to quantify quality that brings the music to life and gives it some purpose. You can definitely pick out the measurable elements that separate Pride and Fall from generic EBM acts: varied vocals, tempo changes, different keys and distinct melodies, breaks in the beat, etc. But for the most part, Pride and Fall simply has that extra something that makes their music work, and fans of EBM and gothy electronica should definitely check it out. These Norwegians are on their way towards breaking out of the EBM boundaries and making more transcendental art, but for now they've made a fine entry in their genre of choice.

Track List:
01. The Approach
02. Inside
03. Paragon
04. Matriarch
05. Omniscient
06. December
07. Delusion
08. Construct
09. Serenade of Dreams
10. Extinction Means Forever

Pride and Fall is:
Sigve Monsen - vocals
Per Waagen - synths
Svein Joar A. Johnsen - guitar/live

Pride and Fall - Official Site:
http://www.prideandfall.com/

Metropolis Records:
http://www.metropolis-records.com/
 

The Prids
Love Zero
~reviewed by Matthew Heilman

I received this CD as a promo this past summer, and shamefully, it has taken me this long to finally review this astounding release.  Time has enabled me to fully appreciate and absorb what this band has to offer and I can fully attest to this band’s greatness and the satisfying durability of their music. I have been busily enjoying Love Zero since July and I’ve yet to tire of the richly textured melodies and driving rhythms presented here.  It continues to be as refreshing as when I first heard it months ago and The Prids are among the dozen or so newer acts that have completely restored my faith in the future of dark music.

The Prids originally formed in Nebraska, but relocated to Portland and released two EPs before this one, which is their debut full-length.  They are indeed a band who’s many influences are hardly difficult to detect, but like most of the current crop of ‘post punk revivalist’ bands that I have been drooling over, The Prids put their own polished spin on things and arrive at their own distinctive sound.  Of all the bands that I have been digging on The Prids’ are the most reinvigorating, melodic and emotionally uplifting.   Admittedly, they lack the frantic angst and dark confrontational theatricality I chiefly admire in other bands, but the moods they craft are no less affective.  The entire CD elicits an intoxicating melancholy, though not of the passive ethereal kind that such a description might suggest.  Instead the music is fully charged and vividly energetic.   The Prids manage to tap into the same musical generator that inspired the sincere, momentous, sap-free power pop styles of bands like The Smiths or New Model Army at their best.

The album kicks off splendidly with “The Problem,” a breathtaking track barely exceeding two minutes but manages to seize the listener, immediately securing their rapt attention.   A rapid snare drum fires suddenly after hitting ‘play’ and the listener is awash in dense cascades of smooth power chords fluidly strumming atop a tight propulsive rhythm.  A few measures pass and the soft, feathered vocal harmonies of both Mistina Keith and David Frederickson make their debut, phantasmagoric and in perfect synch.  The melodic power of both vocalists is wonderfully utilized, each voice seamlessly entwining with the other to create a uniform collision of choral hypnotism. An additional layer of spectral lead guitar and cloudy synths sweep through the mix, dividing the verses before swelling and intensifying, streamlining the track toward a powerful rhythmic break, and then spinning to an abrupt but unquestionably satisfying close.  Two and a half minutes, and I guarantee you’ll be hooked, ears and hair standing on end in voluptuous anticipation.

Things briefly sink down a notch as sparse echo guitar reverberates delicately over a light drum beat, iced by Mistina’s distant vocals, and then “All Apart And No Fall” explodes into a fuzz laden and impeccably tight groove, transcendent and engrossing, playfully flirting between sparse and sonic (youth) dynamics. This sets the stage for one of the coolest instrumentals I have heard set on a disc yet – the aptly titled “Panic Like Moths.”  Drummer Lee Zeman plows to the forefront, tearing things up with forceful tribal cascades (indeed culling to mind the dusty flapping wings of moths as they fly to their flickering doom), as sharp angular guitars jangle in unison with a prominent bass line.  After six months, my mind still screams: Southern Death Cult! I can almost hear Ian Astbury’s shamanistic wail in the track’s opening sections. But alas, the song stands fine on its own without vocals, as instrumentals should, slicing through a pensive arpeggio break and then into a thrashing crescendo. The Prids have produced the instrumental upon which to judge further instrumentals!  “You As The Colorant” and “LLORAR” keep the pace moving full-steam ahead, the former slightly more playful and mischievous while the latter puts David’s serene Thurston Moore-ings into the forefront, the song swerving from a thick bouncing groove toward a swirling melodicism.  Dynamics are again the key to success, the soft moments lush and glorious, the climaxes powerful, punchy and engrossing.

A brief untitled interlude prefaces the second half of the album, the title track appears blanketed in warmth and bittersweet tenderness, serving as the album’s most accessible moment.  The first half of the addictive track “Contact” kicks back to a stark shifty pace, fast and driving, with heavy circular bass strums rumbling beneath tremolo picked echo guitar before segueing into a mesmerizing dream-pop interlude, the guitars and bass tumbling into each other brilliantly.  The Prids partially unplug for “Artificial Heart Designer,” a stripped down acoustic bit comprised of David’s slightly delayed vocal yearnings and quaint hollow-body guitar doodling.  “Not Even Sometimes” draws this great opus to a close, a moody, rhythmic, and lite lovelorn dirge that has Slowdive written all over it.

The Prids’ Love Zero possesses the effect of a pleasant, deeply romantic dream; a dream that you have the luxury to revisit repeatedly, simply by pressing play a second or third time.  Months can pass, but the album never fails to have the same calming, revitalizing effect.  Though these ten tracks together just barely clock in at one half hour, the album as a whole musically captures some of the most comforting and tranquil emotions one is capable of experiencing through music.  Regardless of how others react to this disc, this is one of those rare, magical CDs that I am utterly thankful to have in my collection.  Absolutely essential.

The Prids are:
Mistina Keith – bass, vocals
David Frederickson – guitar, vocals
Jairus Smith – keyboards
Lee Zeman - drums

Track List:
1.) The Problem
2.) All Apart And No Fall
3.) Panic Like Moths
4.) You As The Colorant
5.) LLORAR
6.) …
7.) Love Zero
8.) Contact
9.) Artificial Heart Designer
10.) Not Even Sometimes

The Prids – Official Site:
http://www.theprids.com

Luminal Records:
http://www.luminalrecords.com

Pushing Up Daisies
Pushing Up Daisies
~reviewed by Joel Steudler

I have come to the conclusion that I don't like hardcore.  At all.  Screamy, tuneless discord is not my thing.  Unfortunately for me, that's mostly what Pushing Up Daisies has to offer on their eponymously titled debut.  I guess, though, that this is about as good as unlistenable noise is likely to get.  The Daisies manage to craft an epic and somewhat interesting variety of intolerably grating sounds.  Their avant-garde approach -prog-core, I'll call it- is artistically superior to the stripped down sound I tend to associate with hardcore as a genre.  I can appreciate this as an example of ugly, vile art, if nothing else.

Gary Mclaren's vocals come in the form of a frightfully intense blackmetalish rasp-scream.  They form a close fit with the typically dissonant and often painful distorted guitars.  Fitful bursts of drumming puncture the wall of noise at irregular rates, giving the whole enterprise some forward motion.  Things get a bit more interesting when the band injects strange synth textures and unexpected sounds into the mix.  Even more surprising is when a bass or guitar melody peeks through the crashing haze of noise and lends at least some musicality to the madness.  There are short interludes of relatively calm, sedate music every so often, and a few meandering ambient passages, but the majority of the album is spent saturating the listener with violent disharmony.

Shockingly, the lengthy songs (the shortest is 5:44, the longest 9:00) don't stagnate, moving with regularity from one grim idea to the next.  The compositions are complex and dense with noisy elements and surprising shifts in tone.  The overall atmosphere is nightmarish and hard to listen to, but at least the album isn't boring.  It almost feels like a lengthy stream-of-evil-consicousness jam session at times.  The production is clear and crisp, as well, allowing each gut-churning noise to hit the listener with maximum effect.

On one hand, I don't really want to listen to this ever again.  On the other hand, I can't dismiss it as worthless, since there is artistic merit to Pushing Up Daisies' efforts.  If you like headache inducing, brain-bending atmospheric prog-core violence, keep your eyes out for these guys.  The album reviewed here was self-published and is apparently meant to be the precursor to a wider release of a full album in 2004.  This may well be the best album I've reviewed that's full of sounds which I thoroughly despise.

Track List:
01.) Bus Ride
02.) Clipping Cupid's Wings A
03.) Clipping Cupid's Wings B
04.) The Perfect Love
05.) Cupid 35

Pushing Up Daisies is:
Gary Mclaren- vocals
Tim - guitar
Kel Prime - drums
Ian Peterson - guitar
Mike Morgan - guitar
Mick - drums
Daryl Mclaren - bass
Scott Whitaker- keyboard

The Quantum Dots
Inventing Reality(SINister Records)
~reviewed by Steph Quinlan

The Quantum Dots, like another esoteric band that may or may not be a partial namesake, are most interesting when they’re least structured.  Like The Legendary Pink Dots, their songs lose a certain integrity when they adhere too strongly to conventional verse-chorus structure, but when the centre no longer holds and musical anarchy is loosed upon the world, they are entrancing.

Hailing from Portland, OR, The Quantum Dots have been compared to everyone from Tool to Dave Gahan, and given the grandiose nature of the music, these comparisons are not unwarranted. However, the sense of musical adventure that the Dots seem to revel in is best displayed on lengthier, more meandering tracks, where band members Eric Sterling and Dean Blair have room to experiment at will.

The spacey, almost Floyd-esque “System of Belief” is night-sky listening music, complete with soaring wordless vocals. “Serotonin” clocks in at over twelve minutes, and has a trance-like quality that is saved from monotony by the judicious application of guitar chords and vocal samples. In contrast, the short and sharp track “The Auction” delivers a perfect, tight aggro vocal.

Inventing Reality is the debut release by The Quantum Dots, and it showcased a level of musical sophistication and inventiveness that is not often found in virgin offerings. I’ll definitely be watching The Quantum Dots to see what they invent next.

Track Listing:
1.  Center of Gravity
2.  Affliction
3.  Where I am Nothing
4.  The Common Thread
5.  System of Belief
6.  Spores
7.  Serotonin
8.  A New Progression
9.  The Auction
10. Fall Hard
11. In the walls
12. Subterranean
13. Forgotten
14. Programmed for Symmetry

http://www.nightmareboy.com/sinister/QuantumDots.htm
www.sinisterrecords.com
 

THE RAZOR SKYLINE
THE BITTER WELL (COP International)
~reviewed by Mick Mercer

Karen Kardell has a very unusual voice, (a little bit Lene Lovich) and this band knows how to pack a song with shuffling ideas which complement each other lovingly, with some very thorny edges. ‘American Tragedy’ mixes dizzily busy guitars with a nursery rhyme segment, and silly witch vocals, yet it’s almost trad rock, and the fact it’s almost is what seems to be the key, as they wend in and out of genres as though dancing an intentionally devious waltz.

‘Corporation’ sees Karen lost in Greta Garbo huskiness while the guitar nibbles at her ankles, but she remains a glowering, twitching statue, even when male vocals intrude and I get 2 Unlimited flashbacks, but maybe that’s just me? ‘After The Flood’ is rather cosy and drifts by, with Karen oozing confusion, The synths swell like flowerbeds, and her voice is a chorus of moles emerging among pansies. (You’ll just have to trust me on that one.)

Howling and vinegary from the off, Karen takes ‘Rebellion Lost ‘ off on a different tack, because it’s a mild tune but quite speedy, before the risqué instrumental ‘Run’, with tricky percussion and synths forming a screen over which the guitars wee frothily. With tighter vocals they complete the effectively pop ‘Dream,’ then fracture delightfully through a bippety ‘When I Knew Everything’ with its brilliant guitar flecks incising a synth heartbeat.

‘King Street’ tumbles downhill happily but the vocals are stale, the tune too ordinary for them, so we banish it from our minds due to the cautious pop of ‘Cast’ and the beautiful control evident in ‘Freak’, with a big, slow voice and sighing synth, even though it doesn’t seem demanding enough.

They will do far better albums than this, because they seem somewhat tiny at times, although they’re handling big musical ideas. In the meantime, this is fine.

AMERICAN TRAGEDY
CORPORATION
AFTER THE FLOOD
REBELLION LOST
RUN
DREAM
WHEN I KNEW EVERYTHING
KING STREET
CAST
FREAK

http://www.razorskyline.com
http://www.digitalapocalypse.com
 

Rome Burns
Non-specific Ghost Stories
~reviewed by Mick Mercer

I am not often astonished, but the fact no UK label has bowled in to release this strikes me as genuinely disturbing, and if there's a good US or German label who fancy signing one of the few genuinely remarkable Goth entities in our tiny, but highly becoming, scene then so be it. (Projekt should lap them up.) For if their demos last year were rawly invigorating and charming, this record takes on a more soothing glow, dazzling you with restraint and the best lyrics the UK Goth scene has actually witnessed since just before The Horatii climbed inside an old sock and rotted away to nothing.

It really is that simple. And it truly has to be immediately obvious, because the title track and opener is so hushed and vocally spiky, with double-edged lyrics, of memories as threat, you'll be hooked by a classic, or laughed at by fate. Think of Manuskript having audacious cousins, or The Psychedelic Furs being turned over by urchins. That's where they're coming from, and on the more synthy tracks the fact that a chorus might spout musical gold could, logically, draw PSB comparisons, but whereas Electro bands copy them slavishly, Rome Burns just have a singer with a sharply nasal voice, which is well controlled. Just as well, because you wouldn't want to miss the lyrics.

'ZD-576' isn't some muso industrial workout as you might fear, but a creepy fable, fleshed out through its flickering mood. 'Empty Samsara' is a tough little bugger with frisky guitar and they handle pace well, which is also only of only two faults with this record. Daevid (programming guru) or Nevla's guitar could be louder at times to compete with the vocals, and in turn draw more passion from Simon's voice rather than studied, observational coolness, and a couple more tracks which had took us on ferocious journeys would have made for a more satisfying whole. (I can't think what possessed them to leave off 'Red Riding', but that's band for you!) The other thing is 'The Nexus'. A simple tune with the steerage by vocals, it has some bracing guitar but drifts overall, and although it ends beautifully, it simply takes too long in doing so. That aside, it's class all the way.

'Seeking Mr Hyde' sees the musical swords unsheathed, and we're talking the balance of a samurai, with the guitar stirring, the vocals bitter and a chorus which is utterly gorgeous. This is as big as the title track and proof that labels need this band, just as anyone with a serious interest in the UK scene needs this album. There hasn't been a better UK Goth release in living memory, and that's simply a fact. Consider the great records I've reviewed from scenes which overlap with Goth (And Also The Trees, Unto Ashes) and this is up there with those. It has a mighty allure, and is one which will reveal more and more with each play while becoming increasingly essential to you.

'Waterbabes Drowning' may or may not be all religious metaphor, but it's something of a deceptively pleasant epic, bubbling steadily, and gently withdrawn, yet horribly poetic, beautifully dreamlike. I didn't understand 'Stonegarden' which follows very well, but there's probably more religious in there somewhere, so I wouldn't, and it's a stranger track, milder still, almost abstract at times, and far more emotive. Those two songs make for a fantastic middle gap, as they then creep in watchful mood through the extraordinary tale within 'Apocatastasis' with alarming imagery and great suspense, before deceiving with a sudden end.

'War Of The Pygmies' is standard Goth in many ways, assuming standards have been raised, and there's good, rolling foreboding mixed into the chatter and swing, before they close on the bright and bouncy 'Blue Boy' with it's tale of strangling, which pauses, chops around, becomes thicker and then ends demurely.

What more could anyone need to know that if you bypass this you're only letting yourself down? It is a work of magnificent inspiration, and I pity anyone who can't get a copy, for while it would have benefited from some more vigour, it's so head and shoulders above the rest I think they've also been designing stilts.

NON-SPECIFIC GHOST STORY
ZD-576
EMPTY SAMSARA
THE NEXUS
SEEKING MY HYDE
WATERBABES DROWNING
STONEGARDEN
APOCATASTASIS
WAR OF THE PYGMIES
BLUE BOY

http://www.romeburns.co.uk

Scarve
Irradiant
~reviewed by Eric Rasmussen

Scarve plays a highly refined form of metal in the vein of Strapping Young Lad, Death, Cynic, and Predator's Portrait-era Soilwork. The band members display the utmost technical prowess, while... holy shit this is cool music. Screw the fancy talk - Scarve kicks ass, and fans of technical extreme metal better go buy this CD now. Scarve deftly meshes punishing rhythms, jarring time changes, crazy solos (including one by Fredrik Thordendal), badass technical drumming, smooth melodic breaks, ambient weirdness with whispery vocals, headbanging bass and guitar riffs, angry rasps and screams and shouted anthemic choruses, and all with an expertly-produced sound by Daniel Bergstrand at the famed Dug-Out Studios in Sweden (a studio that has housed such metal luminaries as SYL, Meshuggah, and Darkane).

That was one hell of a run-on sentence I just wrote, but it's impossible to talk about Scarve in any heightened form of dictation for long. The music is of the "grab you by the throat and throttle" metal variety, but with a lot of technicality and truly impressive, varied songwriting. Irradiant is the one-of-a-kind CD that makes it worth reviewing the piles and piles of crap metal that I get sent, and it's the kind of CD I'm going to repeat long into the future. Metal fans really can't go wrong with this one.</