Posts Tagged ‘Heavy’

ant-zen – 16th September 2023

Christopher Nosnbor

Four years on from Tar, Ukrainian industrial duo Kadaitcha, consisting of Andrii Kozhukhar and Yurii Samson, have overcome many, many challenges to deliver album number five, in the form of Tramontane.

The tracks which appeared on their limited lathe-cut single last year do not appear here, and this is admirable: singles so often tend to be used as launchpads for albums, and it was particularly common in the 80s and 90s that albums would sell on the basis of a couple of singles, but would have next to no other decent tracks. In the days before streaming, this was something that was easy to get away with, since the only way of hearing the album was by buying it, which you would do based on the singles. But then, the risk could be reduced by taking punts using your half price or free options through Britanna Music, or similar. The advent of streaming hasn’t really improved things, though, because now, at least in mainstream circles, the album is essentially obsolete.

But outside the mainstream, the album is thriving, and artists are pushing the format now that the constraints and limitations of physical formats aren’t necessarily dictatorial in determining duration, and there are infinite options for exploration. The single wasn’t so much of a stop-gap release as a standalone document of a period in time. But the key point here is that Tramontane is very much an album, and a work to be approached as such. The notes which accompany the release are almost hallucinatory – not quite Burroughs cut-ups, but fragmented, non-linear, and they serve to articulate the essence of the music contained here. Stylistically, it’s tight and cogent, and there’s a flow to it, too, which begins with the appropriately-titled ‘Intro’, which is precisely that – a short instrumental intro piece which paves the way for the ten heavyweight cuts which follow. But within that coherence, what Tramontane offers is a work which really goes all-out to disrupt and unsettle.

‘Niello’ draws primarily on the sound and style of earlier industrial music, the electronic pioneers of the late 70s and early 80s, the likes of DAF and Cabaret Voltaire, but with its distorted, menacing vocals, there’s an element of the later evolutions of industrial which emerged in the mid 80s. It seems to be that there are very different understandings of industrial, and while Al Jourgensen may be a huge fan of William Burroughs and the music that formed the body of the first wave of Industrial music, namely Throbbing Gristle and also the wild tape loop works of Foetus and the heavy percussion of Test Dept, it’s industrial metal and harsh post-NIN electronica which have come to become synonymous with industrial latterly.

On Tramontane, Kadaitcha have brought the two forms, old and new, together, and the result is discordant, noisy, difficult. And these are its selling points. It feels like a guided tour through the most challenging aspects of Industrial music through its evolution and history.

‘Knife’ is a sparse, oppressive low-end throb pinned down by a dull, thudding, muffled-sounding beat, over which twitching electrical streams flash and flow while monotone vocals are unsettlingly detached. The percussion really dominates on the tempestuous ‘Liars’ and any and all references to Einstürzende Neubauten are entirely appropriate. It’s a thunderous, dense racket where the low end really stands to the fore, but it’s tame in comparison to the dark ‘Offering’: even when it drives out as a heavy and insistent bass riff, it feels unfinished, undercomposed. Yet therein lies its success: it feels organic, and nothing is overdone.

The mangled noise and droning distorted vocal on ‘Fossil’ is pure Throbbing Gristle, a barrelling barrage of blitzkrieg laser synth bleeps and a whole mess of midrange and lower end distortion and dirt, churning, discordant, the monotone vocals almost buried in the tempest of overloading unpleasantness, and ‘Seeds’ is similarly unpleasant and uncomfortable, everything going all out on overdrive.

It all comes together on ‘Insight’: beginning as a gentle, spacious, mellow post-rock guitar-led piece, it soon erupts into a mess of overload akin to Metal Machine Music, only with drums and sinister vocals. It’s got the lot, and as the album enters its final stages, it seems to consolidate the elements of the previous tracks to punch even harder, with the percussion harder, the grinding morass denser and darker.

Perhaps a reflection of the circumstances in which it was created, perhaps a reflection of the times in the world at large, Tramontane is heavy and at times harrowing. The lyrics may not be decipherable for the most part, but the mood requires no translation or interpretation, and Tramontane will crush your soul.

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Panurus Productions – 6th October 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

Sometimes, you really crave something that’ll not just blow away the cobwebs, but blast a hole in your cranium big enough to pass not only the cobwebs but the entire house. That’s what I found myself craving tonight. Because… well, life. Things which should be simple and straightforward end up being stressful and taking half a day. And such days just spiral and the pressure builds and then someone tells you ‘you need to chill’ – to which ‘you need to fuck off’ seems a reasonable response. Sure, some breathing exercises and a spot of Yoga are all well and good, and I’m not actually averse to doing ‘nice’ things that may help to lower my blood pressure and help avert the risk of an aneurysm or a stroke before I’m fifty, but… but sometimes, before that, you need to release the rage, and some sonic obliteration fulfils the urge to purge. And sometimes, a short, sharp shock is the best therapy.

I was sold the second I saw the description of this release, offering up ‘An incendiary explosion from the moment you press play, salvos of chainsaw guitars and fully automatic percussion issue forth at the command of a monstrous and varied vocal delivery. Relentless and efficient, the force of T-800’s delivery is only augmented by their precision, and there is no let up in the twelve minutes this release takes to achieve its destructive aims.’

Twelve minutes? It’s an EP, right? Nope: ten tracks, the longest of which is a minute and thirty-five seconds long. I suppose it might still be an EP, since it would actually fit on a 45rpm 7” single, and I cast my eyes to my beloved 3CD box set, Grind Madness at the BBC, which collects the Peels sessions of the likes of Extreme Noise Terror, Carcass, and Napalm Death and contains about six hundred tracks, including ‘You Suffer Pt 2’, a 15-second recording of the legendary 1-second ‘You Suffer’ which is actually four seconds of noise and eleven seconds of reverb fading.

T-800’s eponymous release is nasty, gnarly, brutal, guttural gargling and crazed shrieking vocals are barely audible beneath barrelling bass, clattering, crashing drums and the most overloading, distorted guitars imaginable. This is proper old-school grindy thrash racket, and make no mistake, it’s fucking savage. The mix is dingy, dirty, and whwwn they do slow it down a bit so everything isn’t a blizzarding blur of overloading distortion played at three hundred miles an hour (look no further than the cruel pounding blast of ‘By Design’ for that), the results are bleak and tense, with the thirty-two second ‘I’ being a slow crushing loop that’s reminiscent of some of Swans’ early offcuts, as featured on the Body to Body, Job to Job, compilation.

‘Perfume Corpse’ is as pretty as it gets in its ruthless dissection of life and all things, from the raw raging of ‘Hacked Mainframe’ to the vitriolic gut-spilling of ‘Orbital Bombardment’, and in closing, ‘II’ feels like the liquefaction of a corpse seeping into the ground. And as it ends, the realisation strikes that twelve minutes is enough. T-800 is furious and filthy, and its execution is spot on. But it tears at your guts and kicks without mercy.

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‘Dead Air’ is the lead single from ferocious noise rock duo Modern Technology’s new full-length Conditions of Worth.

‘Dead Air’ kicks into life with a dense smog-like atmosphere, engulfing the listener in a battering of hard-hitting drums, fuzzed out bass riffs and gruff, acidic yelling. The song’s chorus “IS THIS HOW THE WORLD ENDS!?” becomes a cautionary mantra as the duo reminisce about good times gone, trudging on through a world that has become increasingly scarier, more dangerous, inhospitable and absurd. Dead Air is a sonic beatdown forged from chaos, restlessness and hostility concerning our impending shared future. The goal for the Dead Air music video was simple – to capture the rawness and visceral live energy of Modern Technology’s celebrated live performances.

Shot in exquisite black and white, director Chris Purdie favours simplicity and authenticity, stripping everything back and placing the duo and their live gear into a proverbial blank space, captured in minimal unbroken takes. Even devoid of an audience feeding back their energy, the heavy pair showcase the sweat, fury and unyielding power that makes their exhilarating shows so compelling. With this song and much of the album being written and demoed during the pandemic, the band’s on screen solitude echoes the conditions in which the album was conceived. The visible anguish on the faces of band members Chris Clarke and Owen Gildersleeve mirror their shared concerns about social unrest, austerity, the climate crisis, and the feelings of fear, hopelessness and anger that came from such turbulent times – the very themes that make up Conditions Of Worth.

Director Chris Purdie, who has previously worked on seminal videos for the likes of Oxbow and AVSA, says of this project “I knew from the first time I heard Modern Technology that I wanted to work with them on a video like this. Visually I felt we shared similar aesthetics, so I pitched to them the idea of a RIFF.Underground-style performance video, minus the trappings of the live environment. When the band explained the meaning behind the song to me, it became clear that we were all on the same page so the visual design came together quickly. Having that extra freedom to explore meant we could really go to town with extreme camera angles, fog, and especially light placement.”

Watch the video here:

Artoffact Records – 22nd September 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

VOID always seems like the most appropriate title for a counterpart to a release called NULL: it was, indeed, the title for a brace of EPs released by Foetus in the early 00s as companions to the album Gash.

But with this, the title is more than simply an extension of a theme in terms of title. As the accompanying notes explain, ‘VOID, the companion piece to last year’s NULL LP, has a decidedly more melancholy and disappointed aesthetic than its predecessor. Featuring 8 new tracks recorded and produced throughout the fall and winter of 2021 by Andrew Schneider, mastered by Carl Saff, with artwork and layouts by the band’s longtime collaborator Randy Ortiz.’

Despite now marking twenty-four years of squalling noise, tenth full-length Loved (2018) found the band hitting new peaks of intensity and gaining newfound traction, and not just because of the vaguely disturbing cover. Combining weight and ferocity, their back catalogue straddles the abyss between The Jesus Lizard and Swans. It’s fair to say, then, that KEN mode are hardly celebrated as a party band, and writing in Decibel Magazine, Shane Mehling summarises the diptych of NULL and VOID as “It’s like the first record is you fighting, and this one is you losing”.

It’s a pretty accurate summary. That is to say, VOID is pretty fucking bleak, harrowing even. ‘The Shrike’ makes for a tense and tempestuous opening, where everything blasts out all at once before sinewy guitars twist and entwine like a contraction of the intestines with the pain of food poisoning before successive deluges of noise assail the senses. The tension draws the sinews so taut as to burn, and a mere four minutes in you feel the anguish rising through the gut and your throat tightening.

Single cut ‘These Wires’ is almost accessible, a sedate intro building the tension before the levee breaks on the lung-bursting anguish. It’s eight minutes of blank fury, raging nihilism that doesn’t necessarily make you feel better. The stab at catharsis feels blunted. Confined, entrapped. It’s tense, and you feel your heartrate well. VOID is so, so, dense, the music low and churning the

Comparisons are few and largely futile in the face of this, but it’s Kowloon Walled City’s bleak, desolate forms. The disappointment emanates from every chord, every pained syllable. Life… yes, it tears you up and it crushes you.

‘We’re Small Enough’ runs in ever-tightening circles around a repetitive bass groove motif, and become wound more tightly with every loop, and then ‘I Cannot’ crashes in and it’s like you can feel the band throwing themselves headline against lead-lined walls in desperate and futile attempts to escape. Escape what? Life… ‘A Reluctance of Being’ encapsulates that sense of struggle, the weight of simply existing some days. And yet just when you think you can’t do it, and don’t think you can even get up on a morning, you do, because you simply do, and then you get through another day, and then the next. It’s like wading through treacle, but what else are you going to do? I say ‘you’ in the hope that in redirecting the personal the universal it will take on a wider resonance. But for every ‘you’, I mean me. But you know that. And this track is the most gut-wrenching brutal.

Previous single ‘He Was a Good Man, He Was a Taxpayer’ is another slow, brutal slice of pain. Another shining example of what no-one would likely consider a single, it’s a crawling slogger spanning five monolithic minutes of bludgeoning noise, angry, grey, dark, dense, relentless. VOID is the soundtrack to staring into the void, while contemplating the practicalities and the future. Is there even a future? What if I step off here? What am I looking at, what am I facing? Is there really nothing? Probably not, and we need to accept that perhaps the end is the end.

VOID stands on the edge and looks down. Perhaps this is it. Perhaps there is more. VOID doesn’t offer hope, but it does provide a backdrop to your existential crisis while leaving you gasping for air.

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KEN mode has released ‘These Wires,’ the latest single from its upcoming album, VOID.

The sequel to last year’s acclaimed NULL album, VOID will be released September 22nd on Artoffact Records.

Stream ‘These Wires’ here:

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KEN mode frontman Jesse Matthewson gives this statement about the new song: "Why would anything feel right again? Do you get the sense that a lot of people have been fundamentally damaged by the pandemic? The psychological fallout of this event is going to be seen for years to come, and this is its anthem."

An 8-minute epic, building from an icy lament into a deluge of distress, "These Wires" is perhaps the song that best expresses VOID’s story of sorrow and dismay. Centered around a simple piano melody, courtesy of newest member Kathryn Kerr, and Matthewson’s fragile spoken words, the song erupts into thunderous rhythms, propelled by the machine-like interplay of bassist Skot Hamilton and Jesse’s brother Shane Matthewson on drums. Jesse’s pleas hit with all the directness of Henry Rollins (whose "KEN mode" acronym, described in his book, Get in the Van, provided the Matthewsons with the inspiration for their band’s name, almost 25 years ago) as he belts out the song’s crucial six-word phrase: "Why would anything feel right again?"

Released in September of last year, KEN mode’s eighth album, NULL, was inspired by the bleakest days of the COVID-19 pandemic and saw the band create some of the rawest, harshest material of its career. The album also marked the official debut of multi-instrumentalist Kerr, who helped install a new palette of No Wave and industrial-tinged sounds into the band’s trademark mix of metallic hardcore and noise rock.

Amongst other honors, NULL earned KEN mode the front cover of Decibel Magazine, wherein the music was described as "evocative, guttural, Howl-esque poetry laid over frantic, Godflesh-ian soundscapes." A review from Stereogum stated: "NULL is KEN mode at their peak as composers."

Arriving exactly one year after NULL, VOID is KEN mode’s ninth full-length album. More than merely the follow-up to NULL, VOID is a companion to that album, inspired by the same events, and written and recorded within the same time frame. Where NULL embodied the chaos and shock of the early days of the pandemic, VOID is the sound of disappointment and sadness that followed.

Upon VOID’s release in September, KEN mode will embark on a tour of Europe, including dates with Fange and Lingua Ignota, followed by US dates with Baroness and a slot on the next Decibel Metal & Beer Fest in Denver.

Tour:

Sep 24 – Porto, PT @ Amplifest

Sep 26 – Rouen, FR @ Le 106 w/Fange

Sep 27 – Lille, FR @ L’Aéronef w/Fange

Sep 28 – Paris, FR @ Point Ephémère w/Fange

Sep 29 – Angoulême, FR @ La Nef w/Fange

Sep 30 – Clermont-Ferrand, FR @ La Coopérative de Mai w/Fange

Oct 1 – Yverdon-Les-Bains, CH @ L’Amalgame

Oct 2 – Karlsruhe, DE @ Jubez w/Fange

Oct 3 – Dresden, DE @ Ostpol w/Fange

Oct 4 – Wroclaw, PL @ Klub Łącznik w/Fange

Oct 5 – Berlin, DE @ Urban Spree w/Fange

Oct 7 – Aalborg, DK @ 1000 Fryd w/Fange

Oct 8 – Aarhus, DK @ HeadQuarters w/Fange

Oct 10 – Liege, BE @ La Zone w/Fange

Oct 11 – Haarlem, NL @ Patronaat w/Fange

Oct 12 – Bruxelles, BE @ Le Botanique w/Fange

Oct 13 – Brighton, UK @ The Hope & Ruin

Oct 14 – London, UK @ Islington Assembly Hall w/Lingua Ignota

Oct 31 – Portland, OR @ Hawthorne Theatre w/Baroness

Nov 3 – Seattle, WA @ Crocodile w/Baroness

Nov 4 – Vancouver, BC @ Rickshaw Theatre w/Baroness

Nov 6 – Edmonton, AB @ Union Hall w/Baroness

Nov 7 – Calgary, AB @ The Palace Theatre w/Baroness

Nov 10 – Saskatoon, SK @ Amigos Cantina

Nov 11 – Winnipeg, MB @ Good Will Social Club w/Tunic

Dec 1 – Denver, CO @ Decibel Metal & Beer Festival

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Photo: Brenna Faris Photography

Human Worth – 15th September 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

It may not be apparent from my review output, bur I am uncomfortably familiar with experiencing torpor. That weight that descends like a cloak and simply loving is as much as you can manage, and in no time, half an hour, an hour has elapsed, and… what? Where does the time go? Where does your life go? For many of us, work eats our lives, as does just doing whatever it takes to keep afloat and on top of things. I will admit to being less familiar with abscission, which I had to look up to find that it’s ‘the shedding of various parts of an organism, such as a plant dropping a leaf, fruit, flower, or seed. In zoology, abscission is the intentional shedding of a body part, such as the shedding of a claw, husk, or the autotomy of a tail to evade a predator,’ according to Wikipedia.

I get the sense from listening to Abscission that this shedding is rather more metaphorical, and that the album is more of a work of catharsis, shedding skins and layers of shit, of unwanted emotions, to feel lighter, to emerge somehow freer, less encumbered by emotional baggage. But this is also something else. More than merely a shedding of dead skin, the experience of listening to Abscission is closer to tearing the skin from your body, the flesh from your bones to escape your corporeal being. Bloody, brutal, unspeakable pain.

On Abscission, Torpor bring the weight, the crushing weight that drags you down at every limb, your spine, your guts, your heart. The first track, ‘Interior Gestures’ is pure leaden punishment. It starts with megalithic raging, guitars like slabs of basalt, the guttural vocals growling and snarling beneath it all, before shifting into a dark yet graceful expanse, and for a moment, you can breathe, and feel a radiant energy. There’s something about slow, heavy music which is, in some instances, uplifting, and Torpor’s gentler passages are truly magnificent, delicate, elegant, even.

‘As Shadows Follow Body’ has a few delicate moments, but for the most part, it’s simply devastating. If the likes of Neurosis and Amenra are perhaps obvious touchstones, where Torpor stand apart is that they make both bands sound like PWL era Kylie. This goes beyond heavy. When everything is churning low and slow, you feel your muscles wilt and body sag. It’s how you perhaps imagine being hit by a truck, or the implosion of a submarine where the intense pressure simply collapses your body. I may be alone or in a very small minority in imagining these things, but sometimes, articulating the experience of particularly intense music requires something of a stretch when it comes to articulation, and most similes and metaphors simply fall a long way short.

I can’t decide – perhaps because my brain is melting – if it’s appropriate or ironic that listening to Torpor should induce torpor. I’m feeling numb, weary, my back and libs ache, likely from spending hours observing bad posture practices during my dayjob before returning to the same position to sift take care of life admin and review submissions. And listening to Abscission only seems to accentuate my aches, because listening to it feels like carrying a heavy load, for miles, in intense heat.

‘Accidei’ locks into a grinding repetition that’s reminiscent of early Swans or Godflesh, and crawls sluggish and sludgishly, before the album’s shortest song, ‘carbon’ ploughs into the depths and tears the ground apart.

‘Island of Abandonment doesn’t so much plunge new depths of heavy, as sound like the real-time death of an underworld god. It does pick up the pace around the midpoint, building to a sustained crescendo that feels like a typhoon. By the end of its enormous eleven-minute assault, I find myself at a loss. I’ve been covering heavy music for a long time, and have spent it developing my descriptive vocabulary. But words fall short, so short, in the face of this. This is another world. Enter it at your peril.

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Brutal Resonance / Confusion Inc. –21st July 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

One thing I find – often – is that I keep encountering acts who have been going for quite literally decades without my having the slightest knowledge of their existence. This is a source of frustration: after all, I like to think I not only have my ear to the ground – so to speak – when it comes to emerging artists, but that I am pretty well connected with labels and PR. But then, so much of the music industry, it seems, is about luck and change encounters, and being at the right place at the right time. That, and the fact that existing in underground circles for a decade or more doesn’t mean that the chance of rising up toward the light is anywhere near remotely assured.

And so it is that I have been blissfully unaware of Slighter – the solo moniker of Colin C., who it appears, according to the bio, ‘has been fine-tuning the future of electronic music since kickstarting his music in Mid City Los Angeles in the early 2000s… Creating from a unique vantage point, he was involved in collaborations for various Metropolis Records releases and Cleopatra Records compilations, in addition to Slighter releases via his own Confusion Inc. imprint.’

‘How?’ I ask myself, and again, ‘how?’ I’m not only a fan and follower of these labels, but frequently get sent releases for review. I’ve mentioned perhaps a few times now – or more – how Cleopatra tapes were an integral part of my introduction to goth, and subsequently, Metropolis have been the outlet for some of my favourite more industrial-leaning acta like PIG, who I’ve been a fan of since they supported Nine Inch Nails on The Downward Spiral tour back in 1994. It might have wiped me bang in the middle of my A-Level exams, but fuck, the trip to Wolverhampton was worth it.

This is apposite. It seems almost impossible to discuss anything in the bracket of contemporary industrial without recourse to either Niner Inch Nails or Ministry, depending on whether the music is of an electronic or metal persuasion. It wasn’t always this way: from the 70s and through the 80s, industrial was a different beast, but circa 88 or thereabouts, something happened. It’s hard to really pinpoint what that something was, but it definitely happened.

And so it is that Slighter’s latest, The Futile Engine, is some strong work, which sits in the post-NIN industrial bracket, while owning a certain debt to 80s Wax Trax!. ‘Introspection Illusion’ announces its arrival with a squall of noise, a scream of electronica, and some muffled, subterranean vocal whisperings which are dark and unsettling… and then the machinery grinds into action and things really get heavy, and in no time we’re submerged in a throbbing barrage of noise, driven by a thudding industrial disco beat.

‘Pulling Me Under’ is more obvious brooding industrial dance with whirling synths and mangled, menacing vocals pitched against pounding beats. This sets the tone for the album as a whole: ‘Have No Fear’ is dark and sparse, a mechanised beat pulsating in the background against menacing close-mic vocals and we’re deep in PHM terrain here. In contrast, ‘Nostalgia Hysteria’ launches headlong into trance territory, tweaking the 505 in a full-on Josh Wink style.

They plunge deep into dark waters with the more experimental ‘Memory Corruptor’, but so much of The Futile Engine is simply dance music with some darker edges that it’s hard to really engage with. And the trouble I have with so much dance music is that it feels cold, clinical, impersonal. Perhaps it was the lack of drugs that mean I never got 90s rave or techno. But this doesn’t gain more appeal with time, and that’s a fact.

The Futile Engine has its moments, for sure, its execution is pure perfection, and the album displays a knack for insistent beats… but it’s exhausting. Unless you’re seeking relentless beat torture, you probably won’t dig this.

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Warren Records – 31st July 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

There are few things quite as gratifying as seeing one of your own quotes as the lead on a press release. And so it is that Hull noise punks Bug Facer, who I declared were my new favourite band on the release of their debut single, ‘Horsefly’ in Nov ember, praising them for their ‘claustrophobic, pulverising heaviness that leaves you aching’, rage hard on their debut EP.

What are they angry about? Everything and anything: modern life in general. Triple Death may only contain three tracks and have a running time of less than fourteen minutes, but they pack in the fury with a critical mass. The first cut, ‘Eggshell’ sets the tone, and, they say, ‘explores the idea of cycles with no end and how on an existential level we try to apply meaning to struggle.’ This isn’t just noisy shit: it’s noisy shit with some deep thought involved, and ‘Eggshells’ is low and slow, with a hesitant bassline and swirling guitar that swishes around in a gush of treble, and instrumentally it lands somewhere between The Fall and ‘Budd’ by Rapeman, and it’s completed with howling vocals that sound like every syllable is being torn from James Cooper’s lungs. It’s harsh and harrowing and truly the sound of pain leaving the body.

Theirs is an usual setup, with the drummer and bassist contributing vocals alongside co-founder Cooper who plays guitar. I say play: he and second guitarist Josh Burdette torture their instruments, channelling their angst through mangled chords at high volume. Sonically, their approach is unusual, too: they’re not big on riffs or distortion or driving percussion, the popular cornerstones of angry music of many genres: the sound on Triple Death is steely, grey, murky, creating the kind of oppressive sensation I feel listening to Unsane and Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. It makes you feel tense, twisted up and knotted inside.

Picking up the pace with ‘Prod’, which, with the addition of some gurgling synths, steps into a Krautrock groove, before the guitars lunge in and things get messy, the deranged, raw-throated vocals and serpentine guitar lines interweaving in a thicket of discord flay the nerves without mercy. ‘We are all the cattle… We are all the cattle, is the refrain’. And we feel it.

It’s a reworked version of ‘Horsefly’ that closes the EP off, and it’s a cleaner sound that marks the primary difference from the original release of this six-and-a-half-minute trudger of a tune that has the kind of earthy weight of Neurosis. The guitars chime dolorous doom as the bass and drums hammer hard, heavy, relentlessly thudding, so low and slow as to drag your heart down towards your knees.

The clue, I suppose, is in the name. This isn’t just death: it’s triple death, and Triple Death is grim, gloomy, the soundtrack to battling against the tide of shit on shit, when a trip to the seaside is a game of dodge the turds and a tub of butter costs seven fucking quid. When they tell you that inflation is a global issue but the fuel providers and supermarket chains record bumper profits and immense payouts to execs and shareholders while nurses are querying at food banks… fuck this shit. Triple Death is the soundtrack to telling the world, ‘fuck this shit’. One more time: fuck this shit.

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London-based thrash-metal quintet LOKUST today reveal a music for a brand new song tiled ‘War Of Opposites’, which is taken from the band’s first full-length album "Infidel" also out o n28th July on CD/Digital Download.

Watch it here:

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Formed in 2017 by guitarists Alexy Khoury and Jeremy Pringsheim, London’s LOKUST initially released a pair of instrumental demo videos to advertise their search for a full lineup, including ‘Guiltless’ featuring drummer Krimh Lechner (ex-Decapitated, Septicflesh), which was very well received and attained more than two million views on Youtube.

The duo spent the next few years searching for the right vocalist, and in the meantime recruited Euler Morais on drums and Patryk Kopo on bass. The newly established four-piece then started the recordings of their debut album which was fully written by that point. Drums were tracked in Germany with Sky Van Hoff (Rammstein/Aborted) and all the guitar and bass tracks were recorded by the band themselves.

The four-piece eventually found the singer they were looking for in Alex da Costa, whose venomously expressive vocals and menacing presence finally completed the monstrous and muscular sonic attack of LOKUST. They soon recorded the newly composed vocals with Justin Hill of SikTh engineering, and to fully realise the intensity and ferocity of their new songs, recruited Mark Lewis (Whitechapel/DevilDriver) to mix and master their long awaited debut album Infidel. 

Featuring eleven tracks, Infidel is a creatively complex and thunderous dose of modern metal, brimming with pummelling drums and bass, shredding guitar riffs and blood-curdling vocals – although simultaneously featuring moments of dynamic introspection and poignancy throughout the album.

”We always meant for LOKUST to exist on the border between old-school and contemporary – we use a lot of layering in our songwriting as well as aiming to integrate the full array of what a metal band can do these days, technically and production-wise – but our loyalty to imperfections, raw expression and humanity remains paramount,” Says the band about this new record. We’ve always aspired to follow in the footsteps of the bands we first fell in love with, who seemed to have a more transparent, expressive way of executing their music, rather than what we perceive as the more careful and polished approach of a lot of bands these days,” they add.

Set to be released on July 28, Infidel is packed with furious riffs and massive groove-laden hooks that will surely position LOKUST as one of the most promising and talented metal bands in the current UK metal scene.

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TAR POND have just unveiled the fierce video clip ‘SLAVE’ as the next single taken from the Swiss doom visionaries’ forthcoming new album PETROL, which is scheduled for release on September 15, 2023.

TAR POND explain: “Although the video for ‘SLAVE’ was produced simultaneously with the clip for ‘BLIND’’, we approached the visuals in a quite different way”, vocalist Thomas Ott elaborates. “This dark and heavy song rather evokes simple and slow images. I had some interesting shots of jellyfish floating in dark water. So we decided to shoot some additional material of the band performing in the rehearsal room, filled with a maximum of smoke. That quickly turned out to be a bad idea due to the fire alarms installed in the building. Well, with the kind help of some good old friends, Marky managed to procure a much better location in no time. Initially, the video for ‘SLAVE’ was planned with more varied footage, but Fabrizio Merico’s sublime camera work, shot in only one night at the Zukunft Club in Zurich, and the absolute professional editing by Coroner’s Daniel Stoessel made us decide to just let it all go up in smoke! Sometimes less is more!”

Watch the video here:

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