Archive for July, 2022

GOSPELHEIM have released a sinister video exorcism that illustrates the first single ‘Praise Be’ and is taken from the British dark rockers’ forthcoming new album Ritual & Repetition, which has been slated for release on October 21.

The video ‘Praise Be’ in the style of an early Boris Karloff horror movie.

See the video here:

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GOSPELHEIM comment on ‘Praise Be’: “This dark ballad teases the listener with erotic undertones and speaks about the inner revolution of moral value”, singer and guitarist Ricardo explains. “The lyrics of ‘Praise Be’ reflect on the very fabric of spirituality, and the connections between the human mind, body, and soul.”

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GOSPELHEIM were formed by singer and guitarist Ricardo and bass-player and vocalist Coco in Manchester back in the dark days of 2020 while the world came to a grinding standstill. The core duo took inspiration from the morality of the human condition, silent era horror movies, and the transformation of existential concepts such as good and evil.

In early November 2020, GOSPELHEIM recorded their debut album Ritual & Repetition at No Studio in Manchester with Joe "Doctor" Clayton. A video single of the track ‘Into Smithereens’ was filmed, self-released, and well received by critics and fans alike. Despite the known adverse circumstances, the band managed to perform a first live show at Factory 251 in Manchester in September 2021 and has every intention to perform live as much and as soon as possible. The line-up was later completed with the addition of second guitarist Jordan and Rob on drums.

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7th July 2022

Christopher Nosnibor

Well, this is a lot to take in: the pitch alone is a back and forth slap around the face of information overload as I struggle to absorb the idea of a ‘post-punk, synth-pop, new wave concept album that sings of the pleasures and difficulties of life within a haunted house’ which is ‘also multi-lingual’ whereby ‘Daniel will sing to you in Spanish about a werewolf, in English about a Ouija board, in Portuguese about a haunted house and in French about bats at Christmas time’.

Is anyone equipped to deal with this in our tiny-mind, hyper-anxietised, attention-short culture? I don’t really know if I am, and rather suspect I’m not, or even if I want this, and ‘m not sure I do, but there’s really only one way to know for certain, and that isn’t to ask someone who’s heard it.

According to the accompanying notes, ‘The title of the album, El Salón has multiple meanings. In Spanish it can reference a classroom, an art studio, a living room and of course, a salon. Daniel Ouellette says, “The best place I have learned to speak is in living rooms with loved ones who speak Spanish and this the title is in honor of my mates, my loved ones to whom I speak Spanish.”

As such, it’s a polylingual cocktail that draws on pan-cultural sources and a host of genres. This doesn’t make it any easier to assimilate, and the resulting product is a mixed bag to be polite, something I’m not always given to being. What do you get if you throw together Rammstein, Young Marble Giants, and Flying Lizards? The absolute toss of ‘A Planchette’. Pretentious, precocious, corny theatricals… it’s hard to swallow. It has novelty value, and I can accommodate that, but it just feels so painfully self-absorbed.

‘Duérmete’ is more palatable, 80s synth pop with a dash of Cure in the mix, and ‘O Lindo Sonâmbulo’ is a tidy slice of vintage electropop with a crisp and dominant snare. ‘The Kitchen Witch Who Stayed.’ is more bleepy, bouncy, and it’s wincey. It sits somewhere between Erasure and St Michel Front, but has the panache or aplomb of neither. St Michael Front demonstrate a winking knowingness, whereas Daniel Ouellette lacks that same sense of self-awareness, resulting in a clunky, awkward delivery made without a nod or a wank – and Ouellette is no Throbbing Gristle either. As a consequence, El Salon is a mixed bag and a shade patchy: at its best, it’s dark, stark, brooding and theatrical electropop: at its worst, it’s pretty cringy. In favour of El Salon, the best is proportionally better represented than the far from best, which is simply grating and cheesy. With its shifting forms, it’s hard to digest. Or maybe I’m just not ready to take it in all at once.

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Banging grungy Aussie duo Mannequin Death Squad – longstanding faves here at Aural Aggravation have announced that they’re returning to the UK for the firs time in five years.

Packing in 15 shows the length and breadth of England as far south a Exeter and venturing north of the border for a brace off Scottish dates in Glasgow and Inverness, while also straying off the beaten track, it’s a major undertaking, and with supports from local acts, these should be some exciting nights.

We’ll see you down the front for at least one….

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Experimental metal group Imperial Triumphant release a visualiser video for the track, ‘Metrovertigo’ which appears on their newest album Spirit Of Ecstasy, which we recently reviewed.

"Plutocratic myths exist in the shadows of the divine. Placed upon the middle sector as shackles of the unknown. A giant wave pool claims the livelihoods of many, while still many wilfully hand it to the Plutocratic gods as unrealised gains. Bow down and eat dirt. Welcome to a new era. Welcome home"; says Imperial Triumphant about ‘Metrovertiogo’.

Watch it here:

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Photo Credit: Alex Krauss

20th July 2022 – Produkt 42

Christopher Nosnibor

Sever The Servants – a nice play on words – have dished up an eponymous debut that’s as dark as darkwave gets, with subsonic bass, thudding beats and hushed, deadened vocals. As much as anything, I’m reminded of Test Department’s The Unacceptable Face of Freedom, only much more muted, and less abrasive, antagonistic, and slowed to a crawl.

Sever The Servants are no less political, skewering slabs off both ‘political and social commentary. From the ‘right wing hivemind’ theme of the title track to the things that slowly kill us day to day’, STS are seething… but with a taut musical restraint. It’s stripped back, minimal. No samples, no loops, just an undulating larval creep.

Instead of going all-out raging, industrial-style either by means of guitars (e.g. Ministry) or snarling synths (e.g. Nine Inch Nails), Sever The Servants create a dense, suffocating soundtrack that recreates the pressure of oppression with a sonic density and uncomfortable weight. Listening to this album is like having a heavy cloak pulled over your head. Everything is muffled, and you can’t think straight. You panic. The drum beats are like kicks to the chest. It’s hard to breathe. And they never let up. You feel the atmosphere thicken.

I was sold on the pitch that ‘The album’s themes are generally apocalyptical with some each of the album’s six tracks represent the freedom to explore with a complete lack of care towards staying in a “box”.’ Having spent the last couple of years effectively living in a box, I’ve grown accustomed to a certain sense of claustrophobia, but Sever the Servants manage to intensify this with the six tracks on the menu here. As for the apocalyptic… the world is quite literally burning now. And yet right-wing boomers are decrying those who dare to mention climate crisis as ‘woke’. We are fucked beyond fucked. The end of the world is truly nigh, and I’m out of words to describe just how fucked we are. But Sever The Servants at least manage to create a soundtrack that goes some way to articulating it – for as long as we have power, before the blackouts commence.

The vocals wheeze uncomfortably amidst tense soundscapes that roll and lurch, and the weight doesn’t come from volume or abrasive, but a menacing dark force.

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22nd July 2022

James Wells

With their second single since whittling down to a duo, The Virginmarys continue to show that limited personnel and permutations of instruments does not equate to limited ideas or musical power.

‘You’re A Killer’ is unashamedly political, and articulates the anger of the many who aren’t millionaires and billionaires, coupled with the anxiety that pervades all aspect of life right now: ‘Working my bones and still earning a fraction / I’m hooked to my phone like a fatal distraction’ is as succinct a summary as you’ll hear all year, and that’s some nice wordplay in action too.

And it’s all blasted home in three minutes of jittery, choppy, raucous punk ‘n’ roll. The fire in their bellies rages hard and the chorus is 100% hook. There are hints of eighties rock in the mix too: imagine The Cult circa Sonic Temple played in the spirit of ’77.

The difference between the late 70s and early 80s and now is that Thatcher was at least up front and the working classes knew they were being shafted. Now, people are – literally – dying -starving as they queue at foodbanks and wait ten hours for ambulances and entire days in A&E while our leaders brazenly lie, and in recent years, the lies have become more threadbare and the bodies continue to pile high, heaped on the pyre of democracy as we sleepwalk into fascism.

The Virginmarys suck it all in and spit it out in a full-throttle guitar-driven blast of anger: global warming, the rich travelling on their jollies while the nation is sedated by the media, the new opium of the people, toward engineered social division.

The outlook is bleak, but this isn’t a bleak song: it’s a proper, raging protest song. Listen up, and wake up.

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The Virginmarys Artwork

Christopher Nosnibor

There’s no escaping politics and economics, even when you go to gigs as your primary mode of escape from life. When people are struggling to make ends meet, going out is a luxury for many. This is truly a tragedy. With the ‘cost of living crisis’, as it’s being billed (because everything has to have a name, a brand now), crippling pubs and clubs and individuals alike as hard as Covid restrictions and lockdowns did, gigs like this are incredibly welcome: a showcase of emerging local talent for a quid, at a venue where a decent hand-pulled (local) pint costs £4.

Perspex in particular have been building quite a buzz in recent months, but had almost completely bypassed me, so curiosity coupled with the simple urge to go and see some live music meant that a quid seemed like a safe enough punt, especially when the venue’s in easy walking distance.

Given that it’s a race night on which Madness are playing at the racecourse and there’s a sold-out gig at The Vaults with other rising local talents, it’s an impressive turnout at the 400-capacity venue as Captain Starlet take the stage.

Christ, they look young. Like bands starting out in 1979. Ill-fitting shirts and striped t-shirts, Vox and Rickenbacker guitars. They’ve not yet figured out haircuts or grown into their faces, but have fashioned some tidy indie tunes. It’s a bit jangly, a bit C86, it’s well played but ultimately kinda middling. And then it goes country, and all the moustache and suit-sporting Nick Cave rip-offs start having a hoedown down the front. I realise I don’t understand anything anymore.

Captain Starlet

Captain Starlet

Trueman start off promisingly, with some bold sax action reminiscent of the Psychedelic Furs. But it rapidly descends into a quality performance of average music. My mate suggests Razorlight as a comparison, and he’s right. There’s much movement and arm waving from the sixth-formers down the front.

People really love bland shit. I know I should be supportive of new bands, but these reek entitlement. They’re not as good as they think they are.

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Trueman & the Indoor League

Perspex: great name, sharp look (some of them are the suit and shades wearing posers who were getting down to Captain Starlet), lame, forgettable songs. I persevere for a while before retiring to the bar. They’re still audible, and actually sound better from there, but still ultimately forgettable. There’s a steady trickle of departures during their set, so it’s not just me. They weren’t terrible, just terribly average, and when there are a million average bands knocking about, there’s simply no need for any more.

Perspex

Perspex

But for all that, it was a good night: people enjoyed themselves without interfering with others or spoiling their nights. People enjoyed the bands and didn’t gab on through them, and the vibe was good. The bands played well and the sound was good, so much credit is due to bands, fans and venue. There’s definitely a market there, and potentially, a large one. I wish them all the best of luck.

Heddlu is the new musical project by Rhodri Daniel. The Ceredigion native was a founding member of renowned Welsh band Estrons who had a major impact on the industry having gained rave reviews from the likes of NME, Vice, DIY and Clash to BBC Radio, Radio X, Ultimate Guitar, The Guardian and Independent.

After finishing the band in 2019, Rhodri became aware that his hearing was severely damaged. Years of touring the live circuit had taken their toll, Rhodri ultimately being diagnosed with hearing loss, tinnitus and severe sensitivity to noise. The effects were so acute, Rhodri was unable to be in the same room as other people, leave the house or play music for almost a year.

A chance encounter with a retired record producer, who’s old forgotten studio on the slopes of the Cambrian Mountains was filled with antique synthesisers, inspired Rhodri to consider music once more. Advised to get outdoors to aid recovery, he embarked on a three-month hike spanning 900 miles of the entire Welsh coastline, where he conceived the new project and was inspired to write the music in his head, to be recorded upon his return. Serendipity led Rhodri back to music, and Heddlu was born. Meaning ‘Police’ in Welsh, from the words ‘peace-force’, Heddlu’s music has been true to its name, offering a force of peace to the songwriter.

‘Auto-Da-Fé’, Heddlu’s 3rd single, (meaning ‘Act of faith’ in the Spanish language), is named after the trial that heretics and apostates faced during the Spanish inquisition, before being condemned. Sung from the dual perspectives of a judgemental inquisitor, and the artist himself, the song conveys a sorrowful and tumultuous scene, echoing how we continually put ourselves on trial for the things that we have done.

Listen here:

22nd July 2022

Christopher Nosnibor

New York industrial rock act GLDN, the vehicle for Nicholas Golden’s twisted noise, set their stall out pretty strongly with their debut single, ‘Parasite’. Accompanied by stark, hypersaturated visuals, it was a screaming blast of pain and anguish straight from the school of Broken era Nine Inch Nails and Strapping Young Lad’s first album.

And so it is that they follow up with a debut EP, in the shape of First Blood. It’s a fitting title, and again, exploits striking, in-yer-face gored-up visuals render the pitch in explicit terms before you hear a note.

Lead track ‘Gravedigger’ grinds in with a pulsating synth bass groove and driving, metallic guitars, and they’ve achieved that perfect crisp guitar sound common to NIN, Pig, and Ministry. It’s abrasive and it’s noisy, and in following the popular quiet verse / loud chorus structure, it’s far from radical, but the key here is that it’s actually a decent tune. The title track alludes to The Prodigy’s ‘Firestarter’ with its slow fade in, before settling to a low, slow, murky trudge. Stripped back and bassy, it’s also gnarly as hell, and finds GLDN at their most Marilyn Manson. Nicholas can deliver a truly blood-curdling scream, and when he does, it’s unsettling.

‘Ripe’ is seething, serpentine, and with its squalling guitar and snaking bassline, slips into gothier territory, like Christian Death meets Filter.

Where so many NIN-emulators fail is that they’re too preoccupied with following the blueprint, with lifting and referencing; where GLDN succeed is in assimilating the elements to create something unique, and something unswervingly brutal and harsh. Its viscerality is more than worthy of the title and cover art: it’s the sound of a guy spilling his guts and experiencing a pure catharsis at a thousand decibels.

It’s ‘Parasite’ that closes off this six-tracker, and it’s a strong and violent finale, which makes the prospect of the already-in-the bag Hemophilia EP set for release in August, even more exciting. I suspect we can expect more blood.

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Industrial band, Kevorkian Death Cycle is revived from a seven-year sleep with the release of Collection:Injection 01, the first EP in a three-part series of releases that resurrects their classic anthology album, Collection For Injection

Released in 1996, Collection For Injection was the culmination of a particularly experimental and exploratory four year period for the band. Songs like “Veal” and “Send Me The Machine” helped to broaden the listener base due to the songs’ chaotic, thrashing beats, and the bleak, dystopian lyrical content.

The present landscape under the Covid pandemic inspired founding members, Ryan Gribbin and Roger Jarvis to revisit their 1996 anthology’s raucous perversity through a modern lens.  Its themes of a society deeply fractured with violence, health crises, political extremism, division, religious fascism, and hatred are just as relevant today as they were thirty years ago.

The resulting release series begins with the EP, Collection: Injection 01 and includes four modern machinations: “Man Made”, “Send Me the Machine”, “Spring Heel Jack”, and “Veal”.

Aiding in the band’s resurrected body of work are Rob Robinson of The Order of the Static Temple, and Sean Whitman of A Brilliant Massacre. Both artists are on the Negative Gain Productions roster and bring heir extensive composition and production knowledge to the project, twisting and revising particular songs from Collection For Injection to bring them into the contemporary consciousness.  

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