HuhIf I hated them during their heyday but can now admit Freak on a Leash and Got the Life kinda slap, will this offer anything for me?
― Judi Dench's Human Hand (methanietanner), Thursday, 27 February 2020 18:38 (six years ago)
yes i think so
― american bradass (BradNelson), Thursday, 27 February 2020 18:38 (six years ago)
We've got a few voter-lurkers too.
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 18:39 (six years ago)
the rhythm section is much more metal now but the hooks are still there xp
― american bradass (BradNelson), Thursday, 27 February 2020 18:39 (six years ago)
of the Korn albums I've heard or sampled this one is the best (and least obnoxious)
― bold caucasian eroticism (Simon H.), Thursday, 27 February 2020 18:40 (six years ago)
issues > s/t > the nothing > untouchables > life is peachy > the path of totality (which totally rules) > serenity of suffering > their other records
― american bradass (BradNelson), Thursday, 27 February 2020 18:43 (six years ago)
them making their third-best record this late in the game: pretty sick really
― american bradass (BradNelson), Thursday, 27 February 2020 18:44 (six years ago)
I've always had a soft spot for them tbh. I think they're partly responsible for my interest in heavy music, even though I've only ever really paid attention to the singles.
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 18:46 (six years ago)
25Astronoid - Astronoid294 points, 8 votes, 2 #1 votes
https://f4.bcbits.com/img/a1350767353_16.jpg
https://open.spotify.com/album/22clRi7CDOBHwwuvZAzBKdhttps://blood-music.bandcamp.com/album/astronoid
https://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/astronoid-astronoid/
The self-titled second album from Boston’s Astronoid begins, boldly, with a song called “A New Color.” But if you have heard Deafheaven’s Sunbather and Boris’ Pink or even simply seen their covers, this a familiar hue, where black metal and neon shoegaze converge in a brilliant Belt of Venus. As the double kick drums shudder beneath comet trails of processed guitars, certain expectations emerge for the vocals—something harsh and demonic, signifying the atrocity inside the eerie mist. But Brett Boland is actually the exact opposite, his choirboy keen providing the unearthly glow of a Mew or Sigur Rós record. Hearing Boland in the context of Astronoid’s laser-lit blackgaze is unsettling but awesome, like witnessing a hailstorm in daylight. But this excellent first impression is the only one Astronoid really make.That same wow factor propelled Astronoid’s 2016 debut, Air, too, putting the band squarely on the softer, more approachable side of Deafheaven, Vattnet Viskar, and Alcest. If there were a nagging sense that Air didn’t convey much beyond the awestruck innocence gleaned from hearing any one minute of their music, it didn’t matter—Astronoid had already presented familiar elements in a completely new way, and things like “craft” and “nuance” are reserved as talking points for second albums, anyway.But Astronoid pull the same tricks over and over again for these 47 minutes, too. It’s a curious case of expansive-sounding metal best suited for 30-second streaming previews. Catch anything here at the right moment—the old-school guitar heroism of “A New Color,” or Boland howling “I’ll be fine” ahead of a blast-beat torrent on the chorus of “I Dream in Lines”—and it likely scans as transcendent. If Astronoid lopped a minute or two from these five- or six-minute songs, they might land as a posi-vibes pop-metal band. If they added a minute or two here or there by digging a bit more deeply into their occasional prog-metal overtures or sludge redirections, Astronoid could be a formidable psych-metal act fit for, say, Desert Daze, their overdriven guitars and generous harmonics practically radiant.
That same wow factor propelled Astronoid’s 2016 debut, Air, too, putting the band squarely on the softer, more approachable side of Deafheaven, Vattnet Viskar, and Alcest. If there were a nagging sense that Air didn’t convey much beyond the awestruck innocence gleaned from hearing any one minute of their music, it didn’t matter—Astronoid had already presented familiar elements in a completely new way, and things like “craft” and “nuance” are reserved as talking points for second albums, anyway.
But Astronoid pull the same tricks over and over again for these 47 minutes, too. It’s a curious case of expansive-sounding metal best suited for 30-second streaming previews. Catch anything here at the right moment—the old-school guitar heroism of “A New Color,” or Boland howling “I’ll be fine” ahead of a blast-beat torrent on the chorus of “I Dream in Lines”—and it likely scans as transcendent. If Astronoid lopped a minute or two from these five- or six-minute songs, they might land as a posi-vibes pop-metal band. If they added a minute or two here or there by digging a bit more deeply into their occasional prog-metal overtures or sludge redirections, Astronoid could be a formidable psych-metal act fit for, say, Desert Daze, their overdriven guitars and generous harmonics practically radiant.
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 18:50 (six years ago)
Great album my #13
― Oor Neechy, Thursday, 27 February 2020 18:52 (six years ago)
The 'Fork was none too impressed, though.
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 18:53 (six years ago)
placed low on my ballot - maybe not quite up to the debut but still pretty damn great, and no one else sounds quite like em
― bold caucasian eroticism (Simon H.), Thursday, 27 February 2020 18:57 (six years ago)
yeah i didn't find this as mindblowing as the debut but it's still good
― american bradass (BradNelson), Thursday, 27 February 2020 18:58 (six years ago)
i'm guessing moon tooth placed higher? not that they have much to do with each other besides touring together, but that record's a definite case of a second album breakthrough
― american bradass (BradNelson), Thursday, 27 February 2020 18:59 (six years ago)
god seeing them on the same night ruled so much
― bold caucasian eroticism (Simon H.), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:00 (six years ago)
24Cult of Luna - A Dawn to Fear295 points, 7 votes, 1 #1 vote
https://f4.bcbits.com/img/a2342486250_16.jpg
https://open.spotify.com/album/5wF8QXoGV5Woz6EzfZjMZChttps://cultofluna.bandcamp.com/album/a-dawn-to-fear
https://thequietus.com/articles/27201-a-dawn-to-fear-cult-of-luna-review
Cult of Luna's return treads a lot of ground, not all of it new. Nonetheless, seventy-nine minutes of new material is a mammoth offering for their re-surfacing. And whilst there's not a great deal that's dramatically changed, their latest has a huge amount of available space, which they use to play to their strengths, taking complex ideas and exploring them in full.How does this stack up to Mariner? 2015's Julie Christmas collaboration was a career high, adding a sharp snap to a band whose weight was tempered by their dense, blunt textures. A Dawn to Fear takes a different shape; the record is slower, moodier, and less savage. Wherever it's tempting to lament the missing howl of Christmas, dropping the sturm-und-drang edge leaves space for them to be more reflective, darker, icier.The first of two main takeaways: they use the space to play to one of their particular strengths, taking ideas and stretching them, working through hypnotic riffs, exploring every variation until the riff is completely bled dry. It's a sensible way of using more time, and means the record isn't totally overwhelming. And besides, the riffs are fun; this is an enjoyable, driving metal record even when they just reflect on their repetitive, labyrinthine passages.The second is how classy this record feels. Luna have always been a stalwart band but here they sound particularly detached and moody. Part of this is the gloomy, bass-heavy production, and part of this is their willingness to dial the energy back. Mostly, though, is just how well everything hangs together; the deceptively ideas-light approach means that everything is worked out meticulously, all with a sweeping synth undercurrent.
How does this stack up to Mariner? 2015's Julie Christmas collaboration was a career high, adding a sharp snap to a band whose weight was tempered by their dense, blunt textures. A Dawn to Fear takes a different shape; the record is slower, moodier, and less savage. Wherever it's tempting to lament the missing howl of Christmas, dropping the sturm-und-drang edge leaves space for them to be more reflective, darker, icier.
The first of two main takeaways: they use the space to play to one of their particular strengths, taking ideas and stretching them, working through hypnotic riffs, exploring every variation until the riff is completely bled dry. It's a sensible way of using more time, and means the record isn't totally overwhelming. And besides, the riffs are fun; this is an enjoyable, driving metal record even when they just reflect on their repetitive, labyrinthine passages.
The second is how classy this record feels. Luna have always been a stalwart band but here they sound particularly detached and moody. Part of this is the gloomy, bass-heavy production, and part of this is their willingness to dial the energy back. Mostly, though, is just how well everything hangs together; the deceptively ideas-light approach means that everything is worked out meticulously, all with a sweeping synth undercurrent.
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:08 (six years ago)
REALLY good album, even earns the absurd length.
― bold caucasian eroticism (Simon H.), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:09 (six years ago)
A personal favourite. I badly need to check out the rest of their discography now. Christ, I've got so much catching up to do…
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:09 (six years ago)
way too low. Easily the best think they have done. I expected it to be top 10
― Oor Neechy, Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:09 (six years ago)
It was my #8 btw, so I did what I could to get it into the top 10.
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:11 (six years ago)
my #12 and i think i assumed it didnt need the extra couple of points
― Oor Neechy, Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:12 (six years ago)
imago & TT have you heard it? i assume you're the other voters
― Oor Neechy, Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:17 (six years ago)
i forget if tt voted for this but i never got around to it in full
― strangely hookworm but they manage ream shoegaze poetry (imago), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:20 (six years ago)
Alright, time to fess up. But first, see if you can guess how we tried to deceive you (whether successfully or not).
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:23 (six years ago)
Korn
― sorry for butt rockin (Neanderthal), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:24 (six years ago)
*and* Babymetal
― bold caucasian eroticism (Simon H.), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:24 (six years ago)
this is the VAR of the rollout
― sorry for butt rockin (Neanderthal), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:25 (six years ago)
Value-added reseller?
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:26 (six years ago)
I love BABYMETAL and the fact that 7 other people voted for them makes me more excited about the rest of top of the list.
― glenn mcdonald, Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:27 (six years ago)
I'm sorry, glenn. :(
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:28 (six years ago)
Coming up next: the actual nos. 27 & 26.
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:29 (six years ago)
i knew it
― american bradass (BradNelson), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:29 (six years ago)
27Full of Hell - Weeping Choir275 points, 9 votes
https://f4.bcbits.com/img/a1502568514_16.jpg
https://open.spotify.com/album/7ckjkkVbGQXYuEdfErmRfChttps://fullofhell.bandcamp.com/album/weeping-choir
https://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/full-of-hell-weeping-choir/
Full of Hell can be hard to parse, even for those well-versed in grindcore or for connoisseurs of harsh noise. The East Coast outfit—with its members split between Maryland and Pennsylvania—have made their name by cracking apart genre conventions like oracle bones. Grindcore, hardcore, and death metal meet within their music to produce something feral and unknowable, doubly so when they team up with other like-minded oddballs like The Body or Merzbow. There’s just something about them, a reason that they’ve been met with such acclaim and fervent fandom. The nihilistic vibe helps—when Samuel DiGristine gurgles, “All goes onward and outward/All collapses” on “Silmaril,” it’s hard not to shudder.Recorded by the legendary Kurt Ballou at God City, the band’s third album (and Relapse Records debut) is intended as a companion piece to the band’s innovative 2017 LP, Trumpeting Ecstasy, but even a passing listen shows that the band’s interests have shifted a bit. The band’s affinity for the most bestial side of grind is on full display, and on Weeping Choir, only death is real.“Burning Myrrh” blasts the record wide open with two minutes of pummeling grind, dual vocalists Dylan Walker and Samuel DiGristine frantically trading off registers like they’re pulling a double shift in hell’s biggest department store. “Haunted Arches” abruptly ends with a few seconds of warped, ghostly audio reminiscent of The Caretaker’s bastardized 1930s parlor recordings, before “Thundering Hammers”—an apt title if there ever was one—comes crashing down, its destructive grooves redolent of classic Morbid Angel.
Recorded by the legendary Kurt Ballou at God City, the band’s third album (and Relapse Records debut) is intended as a companion piece to the band’s innovative 2017 LP, Trumpeting Ecstasy, but even a passing listen shows that the band’s interests have shifted a bit. The band’s affinity for the most bestial side of grind is on full display, and on Weeping Choir, only death is real.
“Burning Myrrh” blasts the record wide open with two minutes of pummeling grind, dual vocalists Dylan Walker and Samuel DiGristine frantically trading off registers like they’re pulling a double shift in hell’s biggest department store. “Haunted Arches” abruptly ends with a few seconds of warped, ghostly audio reminiscent of The Caretaker’s bastardized 1930s parlor recordings, before “Thundering Hammers”—an apt title if there ever was one—comes crashing down, its destructive grooves redolent of classic Morbid Angel.
26Schammasch - Hearts of No Light294 points, 8 votes
https://f4.bcbits.com/img/a2267679372_16.jpg
https://open.spotify.com/album/1PmHVrFZdWmaaOni45bqD7https://schammasch.bandcamp.com/album/hearts-of-no-light
There are two kinds of metal albums that tickle my fancy. The first kind takes a band’s trademark sound, alters it just enough to keep things fresh, but also retains everything that makes that artist or band unique, enjoyable, and otherwise impossible to do without. The other has mere glimpses of what made that band who they are, but throws so many curveballs, surprise left hooks, and a kitchen sink or twelve your way, and demands that you catch it all. Swiss avant garde spiritualists Schammasch most certainly fit into the latter with relative ease. Even after releasing a three-disc, exactly-100-minute monstrosity in the form of Triangle back in 2016, it still didn’t fully prepare me for what Hearts of No Light had in store for me, even with Roquentin‘s glowing, informative review giving me an incredible insight and synopsis.I’m not complaining, mind you. Hearts of No Light features some of the same intense moments showcased on Triangle, and in some ways exceeds them. Opener “Winds That Pierce the Silence” starts off with guest pianist Lillian Liu setting up a dramatic first half while the band builds up the second with a pulsing rhythm while a lone guitar plays a lick that wouldn’t be out-of-place on a latter-day Death album. As soon as “Ego Sum Omega” launches, you can tell the prog influences that were hinted at on Triangle begin to shine, but not at the expense of the spiritual intensity that Schammasch has made their bread and butter. Guitars that sound like a blackened Fates Warning punctuate above B.A.W’s tricky drum fills and patterns. The song slows down considerably before ramping up the tremolo, ending with synthesized horns building up before an amazing climax.
I’m not complaining, mind you. Hearts of No Light features some of the same intense moments showcased on Triangle, and in some ways exceeds them. Opener “Winds That Pierce the Silence” starts off with guest pianist Lillian Liu setting up a dramatic first half while the band builds up the second with a pulsing rhythm while a lone guitar plays a lick that wouldn’t be out-of-place on a latter-day Death album. As soon as “Ego Sum Omega” launches, you can tell the prog influences that were hinted at on Triangle begin to shine, but not at the expense of the spiritual intensity that Schammasch has made their bread and butter. Guitars that sound like a blackened Fates Warning punctuate above B.A.W’s tricky drum fills and patterns. The song slows down considerably before ramping up the tremolo, ending with synthesized horns building up before an amazing climax.
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:30 (six years ago)
Full of Hell album is stunning
― tangenttangent, Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:31 (six years ago)
Clever of you to joke-list both Korn, who didn't place, and BABYMETAL, who will actually show up for real later.
PS: BABYMETAL and Schammasch and Astronoid are all great.
― glenn mcdonald, Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:32 (six years ago)
:)
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:33 (six years ago)
Both great records that I regretted not voting for after sending in my ballot.
― Judi Dench's Human Hand (methanietanner), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:33 (six years ago)
Schammasch record was a late cut from my ballot but could have just as easily made it.
― bold caucasian eroticism (Simon H.), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:33 (six years ago)
It could have made the cut if I had spent more time with it before the deadline.
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:34 (six years ago)
The Schammasch is fantastic and my #7
I did my best by campaigning for it
― Oor Neechy, Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:36 (six years ago)
Babymetal have indeed made metal poll previously btw
23Big Brave - A Gaze Among Them300 points, 8 votes
https://f4.bcbits.com/img/a0693568513_16.jpg
https://open.spotify.com/album/1i10no8p3y1igTW46jquubhttps://bigbravesl.bandcamp.com/album/a-gaze-among-them
https://www.echoesanddust.com/2019/05/big-brave-a-gaze-among-them/
BIG | BRAVE are a trio from Montreal dealing in heavy minimalism and a full exploration of quiet/loud dynamics. The band is made up of Robin Wattie (vocals, electric guitar, guitar amp, bass amp), Mathieu Ball (electric guitar, guitar amps) and Loel Campbell (drums). Volume is a key tool, where there is sound it is a physical force, played at levels that resonate and hum, connecting almost beyond rational understanding. Like the blues it’s as much as about what and when they don’t play – the chasms of silence pregnant with meaning, sometimes foreboding, often desolate, but sometimes desperate for fulfillment.The vocals of Robin Wattie are a raw, impassioned yelp and they add to the feeling you are listening to a much slower, more cautious Brutus. Lyrics are personal, impassioned but oblique “you don’t get to do this” is repeated on opener ‘Muted Shifting of Space’, it’s gets ever angrier as the music roils, but I’m not sure what ‘this‘ is. Often the words are so drawn out that they seem to lose meaning, becoming otherworldly and strange like the Cocteau Twins. The last album, 2017’s ARDOR was a progression from earlier recordings – fuller, with lengthy soundscapes. On A Gaze Among Them the band return to a core sound and ethos – “How do we take very little and make something bigger than what we actually have?” was the question they asked themselves, according to Wattie. It feels like the band are more pensive, despite the juddering violence of a lot of the music and tighter running times of songs. There’s a tension in uncertainty, like a fist in a pocket. ‘Holding Pattern’ is ritualistic, threatening, the ever-present bass rumble presaging a storm.
The vocals of Robin Wattie are a raw, impassioned yelp and they add to the feeling you are listening to a much slower, more cautious Brutus. Lyrics are personal, impassioned but oblique “you don’t get to do this” is repeated on opener ‘Muted Shifting of Space’, it’s gets ever angrier as the music roils, but I’m not sure what ‘this‘ is. Often the words are so drawn out that they seem to lose meaning, becoming otherworldly and strange like the Cocteau Twins. The last album, 2017’s ARDOR was a progression from earlier recordings – fuller, with lengthy soundscapes. On A Gaze Among Them the band return to a core sound and ethos – “How do we take very little and make something bigger than what we actually have?” was the question they asked themselves, according to Wattie. It feels like the band are more pensive, despite the juddering violence of a lot of the music and tighter running times of songs. There’s a tension in uncertainty, like a fist in a pocket. ‘Holding Pattern’ is ritualistic, threatening, the ever-present bass rumble presaging a storm.
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:45 (six years ago)
Montreal reprezzzzent x3 (my #3).
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:46 (six years ago)
ayyyyy!
― bold caucasian eroticism (Simon H.), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:46 (six years ago)
do they like fiddle with the volume knobs during their gigs or something
― strangely hookworm but they manage ream shoegaze poetry (imago), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:49 (six years ago)
Maybe? I don't go to gigs.
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:51 (six years ago)
i don't even own a gig
― sorry for butt rockin (Neanderthal), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:57 (six years ago)
I'm the only knob at most gigs I attend
― bold caucasian eroticism (Simon H.), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:58 (six years ago)
Two more for tonight.
― romanesque architect (pomenitul), Thursday, 27 February 2020 19:59 (six years ago)
22Cloud Rat - Pollinator300 points, 10 votes
https://f4.bcbits.com/img/a1107819575_16.jpg
https://open.spotify.com/album/620a5hNUjGyYWWUtpNHUkahttps://cloudrat.bandcamp.com/album/pollinator
https://toiletovhell.com/review-cloud-rat-pollinator/
With a groan that seems to last forever, a giant crashes through the canopy and lies still on the forest floor. Communities disappear in the upheaval, and the survivors scatter through mazes of fallen branches. Before long, hulking machines arrive, gouging the landscape, clamping onto the fallen tree like jaws on the throat of prey. While conflict has always been present in nature, the scale of human violence—toward ourselves and the world around us—has created an imbalance that only continues to grow, manifesting as barrens tracts in the heart of our planet’s ecosystems.If you can read the symbols making up this review, congratulations (or condolences), you’re a human. That is to say, a nervous ape who was born into this perplexing stretch of time when so many things seem to be spinning out of control. Cloud Rat captures our cacophonous moment, plunging listeners into the absurdity of modern life with their new album, Pollinator.The opening salvo of “Losing Weight” and “Delayed Grief//Farmhouse Red” checks most of grindcore’s rickety boxes: punk riffs flicker quicker than dying street lamps, d-beats and blasts make the kit ask what it did to deserve this, and maniacal vocals mirror the commotion of a fast-paced society. However, even when playing within the confines of a single genre, the band’s attention to detail sets them apart from the pack; the crisp production ensures that Brandon’s rapid drumming never loses clarity (note the cymbal choke embellishments at the end of “Losing Weight”) despite the thick tone of the guitars, and every song, no matter how minute, quickly establishes its own personality.
If you can read the symbols making up this review, congratulations (or condolences), you’re a human. That is to say, a nervous ape who was born into this perplexing stretch of time when so many things seem to be spinning out of control. Cloud Rat captures our cacophonous moment, plunging listeners into the absurdity of modern life with their new album, Pollinator.
The opening salvo of “Losing Weight” and “Delayed Grief//Farmhouse Red” checks most of grindcore’s rickety boxes: punk riffs flicker quicker than dying street lamps, d-beats and blasts make the kit ask what it did to deserve this, and maniacal vocals mirror the commotion of a fast-paced society. However, even when playing within the confines of a single genre, the band’s attention to detail sets them apart from the pack; the crisp production ensures that Brandon’s rapid drumming never loses clarity (note the cymbal choke embellishments at the end of “Losing Weight”) despite the thick tone of the guitars, and every song, no matter how minute, quickly establishes its own personality.