Since their inception they’ve been making an unholy racket that takes post-metal, hardcore and moments of industrial to create visceral, oppressive soundscapes. Third album Unmaker continues in that proud tradition, delivering what is essentially the soundtrack to the end of the world.
Opener ‘Imperial’ sets the scene with an unsettling ambience and a grinding, sludgy riff designed to wear down and obliterate. The electronic elements only add to this, stabbing during the opening riff and creating tension through their presence elsewhere. The return of the opening motif towards the end hints at rumination on the cyclical nature of the universe and destruction. ‘Desecrator’ is similarly oppressive, howling vocals sounding like furious diatribes against the oncoming apocalypse that occasionally descend into cavernous roars.
Opening with the stripped back ‘Three Of Hearts’, it’s just Laura and her guitar, a fitting but somewhat misleading introduction. Settling into the record for the first time, a listener might assume all the tracks will be acoustic only. Although still managing to keep the raw, intimate feeling of a home recording, these songs have had a beautiful studio treatment by fellow Devouring Mothers band member Marc Hudson. Recorded at Laura’s own TinyQuietStudio in Chicago and Electric Eel in St Louis respectively, they feature percussion, bass, strings and a little extra guitar aside from the acoustic.
Down-to-earth, introspective and from the heart, Laura tells her own personal – yet often relatable – stories over the meaty strum of an acoustic guitar. Whether it’s the kitsch rhythmic warmth of lost love ditty ‘Lola 13’, the attitude filled uptempo rock n roll vibe of ‘Long Dark Night’ or the fun ‘Day Old Coffee’, Laura sings about the things she’s experienced – thoughts, feelings, emotions, events. The latter is the shortest song on the EP at only 1 minute and 14 seconds, but it does the trick. In fact, a lot of the songs on the EP are short. Five of the seven tracks clock in under two minutes. It works. They don’t need to be longer – they say what they need to say and get out.
Never before have we had to learn and adapt as fast as we have done this past two years though, and one man who has struggled like most but come out the other side stronger and hardened, is Mark Tremonti.
The Alter Bridge and Creed guitarist returns with his fifth solo studio album, Marching In Time, and strips bare the lessons he’s learned and scars received for the world to see. The 12-track record begins with ‘A World Away’, the chugging guitars like a battering ram against a heavy-duty iron door, demanding to be let in like a hoard of bloodthirsty Vikings hellbent on having their name feared throughout the land. The speed metal of Tremonti’s riffs and double kick drums strikes terror in your eyes and sends a signal to your brain to engage the ‘fight or flight’ reaction. With the chorus’ soothingly clean vocals, “I swear that I will leave today, another life a world away,” breathes a new hope into the prospect of escaping from a toxic situation.
Drummed blast beats and down-tuned guitars emit an aura of dissonance, the disquietude felt through the ether as the hair stands on end and chills trickle down your spine in response to ‘Now And Forever’. Tremonti’s guitar solo is played and captured with so much urgency, his pent-up emotions of days gone by exorcised through two pieces of varnished wood and six strings.
Constantly striving to break new sonic ground, Sleep Token whisk us away on a journey which can only be described as emotional devastation. This 12 song catalogue has us confronting the innermost depths of our being. Tackling themes such as unrequited love, broken relationships, and the severed connection with ourselves should feel oversaturated. Yet, Sleep Token breathe life into these in one instant and take our breath away in the next.
The immersion begins with the delicate melody of ‘Atlantic’. Vessel’s vocals encourage us to close off the outside world and open our emotional consciousness. The atmospheric sound of running water fully prepares us to “crumble like a temple”. We would have been more than happy to float within these waters of less is more. Yet the depth of this ocean blooms into spine chilling darkness. Synths and vocal tracks blend together under the surface, paving the way for rounded guitars to drown us in their tsunami.
So when life gives you lemons, you make a batch of refreshing lemonade as well as saving the other half for Friday nights tequila shots, catering to whatever mood you may find yourself in at any given time.
Welsh rockers Florence Black’s debut full-length record is the aural equivalent, offering a multitude of soundtracks for whatever takes your fancy in that moment. On Weight of the World, the Merthyr Tydfil natives ebb effortlessly between heavy metal and classic rock, with production from Romesh Dodangoda (Motorhead, Bring Me The Horizon, Sylosis) making you question whether this really is just a trio comprising of vocalist/guitarist Tristan Thomas, bassist Jordan Evans, and drummer Perry Davies, or if their doppelgängers have allowed them to create a sound that is so full and round.
They are a band that embody the ideals of community, advocacy, and inclusion through their raising awareness of Maori culture and use of Maori language in a metal landscape that sorely needs more bands making waves from cultures across the world. And that’s exactly what happened with the New Zealand trio, with their first album Tu garnering praise and spreads from publications both within and outside of metal.
It was something heavy music had never seen before, especially from a band so young, but the cocktail of the tribalistic and fierce Maori language and the band’s pummeling brand of groove metal made for a very promising first offering. With the band’s anticipated second record, Tangaroa, the band makes admirable strides to cover a broader range of topics and delve deeper into their emotional life, as well as make even bigger strides covering issues facing the globe. However, the album does suffer a bit from its lack of punchiness production wise and its length, as the record does ultimately overstay its welcome.
