Rig Time War review

Rig Time!

War

Innerstrength Records

RELEASED 20 October 2017

Review by hutch

The big difference from their prior output, last year’s full-length, Sick of It and two EP’s, Awful and Devout, is low end. Whether they tuned (even) lower or just amped up the post production. The other material had the spirit, but War is delivered with bombastic terror. Rig time’s sound on War is ugly, writhing in fetid disdain. Coming from La Crosse, WI, I am sure the scene is scant and pushing them to be heard. War will create waves towards both coasts, especially now as they debut on Innerstrength Records.

One interesting aspect of Rig Time! is the relationship of the members. The fluid communication of husband/wife Bryan W. and Rebecca Fleming (vocals/drums and guitar, respectively) drives the music, rounded out by Mark Trueman (bass/vocals). Again, calling out the production and of course the mastering, it is no surprise to find the sonic genius of Brad Boatright at Audiosiege. But first, War had the fortune to be recorded/mixed by Pete Grossman at Bricktop Recording in Chicago, IL (WEEKEND Nachos, Harms Way, Like Rats). The album was mastered by Brad Boatright at Audiosiege in Portland, OR. Whatever approach Grossman took, it was the correct channel. Songs are written drenched in vitriol and tension. The explosive breakdowns pay off. But songs that linger are ooze hit the mark as well.

Rig Time! nail it with tracks like “Garbage”, “Succumb”, “Blister” and “Cleanse”. Puncturing their blend of sludge and hardcore – with a tight embrace on powerviolence – the band kicks fast and dirgy tones, manifesting unbridled hatred. War is dripping with rage, vocals are strained and emphatic. The rhythmic pummeling of a more atmospheric “Discomposure” or “Deserve” show a propensity to manipulate mood and not just the strings of an instrument. The trio push many two-step parts spurring ill breakdowns with a groove. Noisy tones and ugly sentiment. While, going back to “Succumb”, Rig Time! have blastbeats charge with that double bass hammering away to the howls of “We bow to no one!”.

RIYL: Xibalba, Harms Way, Weekend Nachos, Balaclava, Lowered AD, Eyes of the Lord

Squalus The Great Fish Review

Squalus

The Great Fish…

Translation Loss

Release 9.15.17

Review by hutch

First things first. Squalus is 4/5 of the band, Giant Squid. Giant Squid were self-proclaimed “prog” sludge metal. Those elements all remain here on The Great Fish... as Squalus paddle forward. Pertaining to the absent fifth member, Squalus does not fill the guitar slot. Rather, the band doubles up on bass guitars and rolls with keys and drums. From Giant Squid to the moniker of Squalus, a type of dogfish (sharks), these four chaps illustrate their fiery affection for the foreboding dangers of oceanic depths. The Great Fish... exhibits certain strengths while calling a niche audience to listen.

Upon first listen, the eschewing of six strings hones attention to the other instruments; especially the keys which protrude from each track. And when the word “keys” is utilized, the plural is intentional. There are synths and straight piano key sounds on deck. The odd configurations of rhythms and time signatures throughout elicit the prog-rock feel. But the execution illustrates a (deceptively) simpler, more direct instrumentation which conjures eclectic influences. While most likely not an influence, the Florida swamp sideshow orchestra, Viva Le Vox, comes to mind with The Great Fish... emanating a weirdly alluring circus vibe and a cautious bog of peril. Also, we hear some aspects of sonic schizophrenia akin to Faith No More; not in sound but approach. But the roots are filthy riffs of raw rock and roll.

Parts of The Great Fish… evoke Giant Squid’s Minoans but instead of gentle tangents we get quirky. Again the foundation definitely harnesses sludge elements. But the piano – while most doom or garage bands striving for an eerie sound would defer to a traditional Hammond B3 sound – this cleaner piano sound (still probably on a synth) adds a macabre atmosphere. “Eating Machine in the Pond” distinctly pulls from the churning dark synth reverb (layered with the normal piano) of John Carpenter as it births a pummeling rhythm section; grinding, bellowing.

Instead of squealing guitar leads, the keys reel and spit. “The USS Indianapolis”, although it started out with funky jazz diversion, almost calming, certainly hypnotic, eventually dives deep into the fathoms of torment. The beginning is Smooth and perky – and then the, well, squall crashes into the track with big movements. Noise and confusion drown the listener in a barrage of low end splendor.  

The successive openers – “The Great Fish” and “Flesh Bone and Rubber” – are engaging and promising. Gnarly, jangly bass riffs and provocative drums charge along with growling vocals. The quick (under 3 minutes) duration of “Town Meeting” swirls in a chaotic deluge. The repetition of chainsaw synths, banging; ripple out with early Murder City Devils type rock and roll.

If you have not pieced it all together from the song titles, The Great Fish… is about Spielberg’s 1975, JAWS. I would assume the lyrics are of “Town Meeting” are Quint’s proposal at the town meeting, screamed; especially since the track ends with the vocals stating the Mayor’s unsteady reply of the film. Tracks dedicated to the Cassie Taylor autopsy by Hooper, “Jack the Ripper” - a reference from the film to the English whore slayer, and other aspects of the film are exciting for any fan of the leviathan of summer blockbusters; when art and craft could be hooked to mainstream money maker, luring in thrill seekers and cinephiles.

“The Orca” proves that chaos is a fine instrument to wield. The cacophony and rage emanate from the track, relentlessly churning. A sweet 90 second melody on a piano ushers us into the lapping thumps of “Swim Charlie, Swim”. The bass line and synth wrestle for dominance. It’s a cool instrumental. 

Ultimately, for a doom/sludge/stoner/noise fan, The Great Fish… has to be compared with Akimbo’s Jersey Shore. It’s impossible not to do so. In 2010, Akimbo released a stellar noise rock album of 6 tracks about the 1916 bull shark which menaced New Jersey, killing four people. Matawan (July 12), Spring Heaven (July 6), and Beach Haven (July 1).

The Great Fish... doesn’t adhere that strictly to such a concept, more just singing related songs inspired by JAWS. There is not a three act structure or anything. But The Great Fish… is a fun romp, flailing and splashing; disturbing any notions of security like the opening scene of JAWS. A detractor, in my opinion, is that Squalus reiterate narration and quotes from JAWS instead of sampling. While most certainly a monetary decision, the replacement is distracting to me because with speeches or quotes from such a recognizable film, it is confusing to hear it spoken in a new voice, especially one recalling Billy Bob Thornton from Sling Blade.

The vinyl is fitting and damn gorgeous, boasting two choices of oceanic blue or blood splatter red on blue. The packaging is stellar with a cover of a painting by member, Aaron John Gregory, uncomfortably inspecting a close up of a great white. Again, this record is fun. And it is a concept album but it is not precisely chronological or regimented as a dramatic arc. Which is fine. It doesn’t try to be. It’s dirty metal fueled by adoration for a great film.

Translation Loss shop

Translation Loss site

RIYL: Brain Tentacles, Ahab, Akimbo, Intronaut, Maserati, John Carpenter, Goblin

Iron Monkey 913 review

Props for the Jerrys Kids shirt.

Iron Monkey

9-13

Relapse Records

Released Oct 20^th

Review by hutch

The term “cult band” is usually relegated for lesser known or underappreciated bands. With Iron Monkey, the term more likely is to denote their likelihood of spawning an actual cult. I’m not sure of their record sales but their reputation is revered. And their two albums are in regular rotation in on my turntable. Ain’t one aspect under appreciated. Iron Monkey cultivated disgusting and abhorrent sounds and attitude while still manifesting a groove. On par with Eyehategod, this UK trio repelled listener’s from 1994 until 1999. A band that channeled repulsion, seclusion, and nihilism could never be expected to function for too long. And then their singer passed in 2002.

Now it is 2017. Somehow, Satan’s ugliest children have found themselves spewing further music. Relapse Records released their third full length, 9-13. It stands with the classic two, self-titled, 1996, on Union Mill and Our Problem, 1998, on Earache. Staggeringly savage, riffs and growls perpetuate every insecurity in the listener. The members are listed simply and unimpressively as J - Vocals/Guitar, B – Drums, and S – Bass; recalling John Paul Morrow as “JPM - Rest In Noise”. 9-13 is a stellar tribute to JPM’s legacy. Jim Rushby and Steve Watson both were in prior iterations with others, Rushby in all, while drummer, Brigga (ex-Chaos UK), is new. But the sound is as killer here. There is no gap in synchronicity.

Rushby’s vocals are beyond growls, not low in tone like a guttural Death Metal band, but beyond growl in terms of delivery and audibility. Take “Toadcrucifier”. Rushby snarls like a spastic pitbull, reacting to a violation with a fevered unraveling. His vocal approach comes from a genuine disassociation with human kind. The feral evocation is the thread throughout 9-13. The songwriting is tops, production balancing the ugly with the execution. “Destroyer” driving riffs of the first section coupled with the fast charge of the middle relishes in deep focus and nasty tones. But we hear all instruments pushing and pushing.

There is a palpable rejuvenation between Rushby and Watson in these despondent harvests. While certainly skilled musicians, they keep it simple. And that’s where the honesty is allowed to shine. It is why I think hardcore fans can latch onto Iron Monkey’s qualities. They repugnant emotions of isolationism and self-destruction, the disgust with the world, the visceral trigger is worth more than any guitar solo or ethereal orchestration. Give me the sweaty clamor of basking in plodding snare hits and feedback of “The Rope” any day. Not saying it is all feeling, they sit and write songs. But they know when to ride a riff, a groove, an emotion – and simply let vocals spatter wretched noise. “Doomsday Impulse Multiplier” swoons and smashes as its twisted riffs deliver on its catastrophic tile promises.

9-13 is constructed of eight 4-5 minute romps with a 10 minute closer. The beginning of the album, 

“Crown of Electrodes”, “Omegamangler”, and the title track, “9-13” are all bruisers. So, let’s address the obvious. Detractors will say – shit, have said, on a youtube comment – “no Greaves, no Morrow, no Iron Monkey”. And I am a purist with some bands – believing certain bands should have just taken a new name (Sepultura, Misfits, and a thousand hardcore bands). Missing Greaves is a loss, in a nostalgic way. But Brigga kills it on 9-13. Justin Greaves, whose talents saw him in many bands; including, Borknagar live, Crippled Black Phoenix (still does), The Varukers (which is a precise parallel to Chaos UK) and most notably, Electric Wizard for three years. This perched Greaves to record on EW’s gnarliest (not best or most classic, but noisiest/ugliest), We Live. Steve Watson is back here, and played on IM’s first self-titled LP. The detraction may be in comparison that Iron Monkey recorded as a five piece for their two albums and the EP. Here they perform as a trio. I don’t hear an outcry for missing Doug Dalziel. He was on all three records. And hell, if you’re lamenting an absent drummer – you should really being lamenting his partner, the bassist. Watson moving over certainly delivers the essence of Iron Monkey. Rushby, however, has always been in the band, every iteration. As far as vocals, while missing Morrow is a punch to the gut, Rushby does his job. It doesn’t have that same black metal, goblin raspy slither; but Rushby has the same spirit, and certainly the toxic tenacity in his exasperated excoriating of mankind. And with all the years slinging axe for the band, he knows the approach that works and exceeds his duties. Shoes filled. Would Morrow have given the thumbs up? Only the band members know, not some sentimental fan.

buy some shit

RIYL: Fudge Tunnel, Grief, Church of Misery, Eyehategod. Weedeater/Bongzilla, Buzzoven, Unsane, if GG Allin made good music.

Iron Monkey release new video 2017

IRON MONKEY 

One of my favorite all time sludge bands are returning despite all doubt. Hailing from Nottingham, their two LPs in 1994 and 1996 are certified punk-doom metal classics. One of the most repugnant to commit their vile rants to wax, Iron Monkey have returned. Check out their new video. Ugly.

RELAPSE RECORDS Release

"Cult UK doom/sludge outfit IRON MONKEY has shred the official video for “9-13”, the title track of their first new full-length in almost two decades. Watch the Jack Atherton directed video now via Decibel Magazine HERE 

9-13 is set for release on October 20th on CD/LP/Digital via Relapse Records. Physical packages and digital orders are available via Relapse.com HERE

After disbanding in 1999 after the death of their original singer J.P. Morrow, IRON MONKEY has reformed for phase two of their mission. Recorded in their hometown of Nottingham in Spring 2017 A.D. with producer Johnny A. Carter, 9-13 is 9 songs and 48 minutes of total nihilism. Now older, more cynical and more isolationist, IRON MONKEY are back to usurp the scene, then crush it’s skull. Without question, their most focused, aggressive and direct material to date, 9-13 is an all-out assault of violent hatred and nightmarish negativity. Recommended listening for fans of pain, suffering, and misanthropy."

The Ditch and The Delta Hives in Decline Review

The Ditch and The Delta

Hives in Decline

Battleground Records

Review by hutch

Salt Lake City. Arid and barren. A salt lake; a contradiction in thought. Blistering out of this plain, is The Ditch and The Delta. A heavy doom band that incorporates myriad influences to spew original ideas; all soaked in the blood of noise rock. The new full length, Hives in Decline, has been out this summer and harvesting stellar reviews. The trio is touring most areas of the US, 8/15 through 9/02

Switching from thick and ugly one measure into a crisper more calculated attack the next, TD&TD’s songs balance various approaches meticulously. Their sound is loose and pulverizing, but with forethought. I tend to find the fuzzy belligerence more appealing but appreciate the respites of TD&TD pulling it in. Sandbars bring relief in rough waters.

“Fuck on Asphalt” is a chilling rocker, moving forward and using speed as a weapon as much as low- tuned thick chords. Halfway through its six minutes, the track reels back and becomes a reticent volcano of cymbals, toms, feedback and solo squeals. Other reviewers, and the band, will call influences such as Melvins and Eyehategod. I feel one can look to contemporaries like Black Tusk and Kylesa as well; TD&TD is the visceral to ISIS’ cerebral.

A Godflesh-like machine timed attack with real instruments as “Sleeping Dogs” or “Til Body Quits” begins. “Til Body Quits” soon picks up pace though. This has a succinct drum beat with a gliding, guitar line that refuses to let the listener sit still. Some explosive screams over mountainous riffs bring climactic proclamations. Heavy and defiant, this may be my favorite track. The dusty echo in the winding guitar of “Dry Land”; a two minute dirge that kicks up dust and the introspection of solitude, exhibits strong songwriting. This track does with inward sparsity what the rest of the album does with volume and low tones.

A piercing riff is the pith of the five minute “Mud”. Its high note wail which Eliot Scerist (guitars) pushes to charge forward is a conduit for each section of the track. It is a great send off point for the quieter discovery of the middle of the song which relishes a subtle tangent. The jazz infusion (think Pelican and Maserati) allows the trio to play and wander in a settled environment. But that’s one minute; the bulk of the song is still here to eviscerate. A violent thrash moves the song through its life, still with that guitar line pricking and needling the listener.

Hives in Decline pull sludge/doom and jazz breaks and together to relay a pounding execution. Angry bellows ride on discordant riffs which garner depression and regret. The ugliness of this society breeds rants and contemplation which TD&TD give us space and time in which to revel here.

RIYL: Melvins, Neurosis, Black Tusk, Maserati, ISIS, Earth, Godflesh, Intronaut.

Bandcamp - you can stream or buy vinyl

THE DITCH AND THE DELTA Tour Dates:

8/15/2017 Triple Nickel - Colorado Springs, CO

8/16/2017 Barleyscorn - Wichita, KS

8/17/2017 The Deep End - Wichita Falls, TX

8/18/2017 The Lost Well - Austin, TX

8/19/2017 Boom Boom Room - Lafayette, LA

8/20/2017 TBA - Atlanta, GA

8/21/2017 Slims - Raleigh, NC

8/22/2017 TBA - Baltimore, MD

8/23/2017 TBA - New York, NY

8/24/2017 Great Scott - Boston, MA w/ Rozamov

8/25/2017 Space Bar - Columbus, OH w/ Rozamov

8/26/2017 Reggies - Chicago, IL

8/27/2017 TBA - Sioux Falls, ND w/ Rozamov

8/28/2017 TBA - Billings, MT w/ Rozamov

8/29/2017 TBA - Spokane, WA w/ Rozamov

8/30/2017 El Corazon - Seattle, WA w/ Rozamov

8/31/2017 High Water Mark - Portland, OR w/ Rozamov

9/01/2017 The Shredder - Boise, ID w/ Rozamov

9/02/2017 Crucial Fest - Salt Lake City, UT w/ Rozamov

Abatuar Perversiones De Muerte Putrefacta Review

Abatuar

Perversiones De Muerte Putrefacta

Dunkelheit Produktionen

Release: 17 April 2017

Abatuar is a one man Panamanian Firestarter named Cadaver. He has worked in other metal bands, but this is his baby, his shining moment. Metal-archives shows other members covering guitars, as Cadaver is a drummer. But he gets this credit for all of this, so I must assume he plays guitars on this as well. Call it black metal, but Perversiones De Muerte Putrefacta pulls in influences from grind and death. This LP is raw and ugly, confrontational. After two impressive – and sought after – demos, Abatuar now unleash their debut full, Perversiones De Muerte Putrefacta, length on Dunkelheit.

Thick, sludge drenched guitars flog with whips of razorwire. The aesthetic here is clearly the old school ethic of recording in a subterranean cave with a boombox. That’s cool. But, I do wish the production was a touch crisper with some punch. The songwriting is strong and hits like a tsunami. Drums lay a frantic foundation, constantly rolling and pounding. Guitars bandy on a riff. The time changes (check “Decapitacion Latrinal”) give some texture and variety which I appreciate. “Adoctrinemantio Colectivo Genocid” is unfettered fury; grind core speed and rage. These are the platforms for the album. “Deidades Sepultades con Restos” has a, dare I say, groove? Not really but a catchy riff and a mid-tempo beginning that moves into a 4/4 beat. Then, it moves faster. “Ordalias de Hierro Fundido” messes with time and the listener’s mind. It is a rapid beast. But it truly pushes, grinds, as it pounds forward. Some killer death metal riff embedded in it reminiscent of the Swedish 90’s sound.

 Perversiones De Muerte Putrefacta slithers unapologetically. Abatuar create a dungeoness atmosphere of belligerence and fury. Compelling riffs and tumultuous drums, adorned with ghastly vocals, elicit terror and seething acrimony in a listener. The lo-fi production beckons true black metal and grind. This LP conjures a feast of primal urges with sounds of Hell.  

bandcamp

AVailable in black or red vinyl or CD: shop

Mohicans self titled EP review

Mohicans

Mohicans

Creator Destructer Records

Release December 18 2015

Review by hutch

Mohicans fuse together obvious influences into an alchemy of unique music. Heavy, down-tuned metallic hardcore is what Mohicans play. Blatant doom and sludge adoration, but the prominent pounding drums propel a two-step hardcore punk pace. The urgency is immediate, eschewing the typical long duration of indulgent slow doom. Five tracks are below two and a half minutes. The vinyl 12 inch (available in 180 gram) fits all six tracks on one side. *(with the b-side silkscreened!).

The music is angry and raw, being spat and sweat out by this San Francisco trio. The groups is never afraid to delve into a rock sound or a searing solo. The Kyuss/Mastodon feel can take center stage, as in the album’s opener, “Eagle”, or the track, “Road”. But just as you adjust, the stool is kicked out from under you and the pummeling of frantic drums rushes forward. The production drenches the riffs in fuzz and feedback, possessing a stellar live feel. The drums are pushed up in the mix, clear and dominant. The vocals, which shred the larynx of vocalist Chris Palomarez, are pulled back which adds an omniscient, foreboding quality. His clenched fury is admirably delivered. The penultimate track, “Bixbi”, breaks down on a bouncing bass line and continues in the trios catchy waves of bobbing tones. The song then returns to thrashing.

Palmarez also recorded the drums I keep applauding. Live, the band is comprised of Justin Shearer on bass and David Sahlem on drums. Heavy thunder and destructive intensity are Mohicans’ core strengths.  This music is ugly. This music is adversarial. Melody sneaks in sporadically (but calculated). It is used sparingly to balance the down tuned dirge. Mohicans execute a sinister beauty here as precision noise and rash rants spewed over thick ass riffs.

RIYL: Wolvhammer, Spinebreaker, Baptists, Eyehategod, Black Flag, Generation Of Vipers, Black Cobra, Bison BC, Doomriders, Conan

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