Although major influencers within more corporate leaning musical talent pools stay true to the teenage angst appeal of the genres most recognisable and respected predecessors, Hot Milk are the latest in a long line of elevators to breathe new life into the musical genus with their sophomore EP release – I JUST WANNA KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I’M DEAD.
With recent rambunctious performances under their belts, including opening up the West Main Stage at the Reading and Leads Festival, causing a stir at Download Pilot as well as sending fans into an electrified frenzy at the Heavy Music Awards; Hot Milk are doing Manchester proud with their zesty post-adolescent exploration into the depths of morbid curiosities and manic depression, while achieving a strange sense of comfort which radiates off of all five tracks included on the record.
Through the process of divulging into the latest addition to Hot Milk’s discography, we’ve found it rather difficult to identify la crème de la crème on this enticing record due to the bands unquestionable ability to write a plethora of banger worthy singles. However an interesting notion woven into the fabric of the EP’s third track ‘The Good Life’ feels much more poignant the deeper you dive into its context. Emulating a sermon to the downtrodden, this arena rock blaster almost seeks to question the will to break past listener’s brokenness to obtain “a slice of the good life”. Considering the overreaching post-emo eccentricity of IJWKWHWID; this track feels purposely soaked in sarcasm when examining the appropriation of attainable emotional stability, especially considering so many in society are still ignorant to the devastating reality sufferers of mental illness go through on a day to day basis. Its primary function feels like a fuck you anthem to those who wish to diminish the suffering of others, as well essentially pointing out the absurd ideology surrounding what a “Good Life” actually looks and feels like.
Belgian death metal legends Aborted have been serving up slices of the grotesque from reformed meat made out of human carcasses since their formation in 1995 and 1999 debut The Purity of Perversion. The last 26 years have seen the band become shapeshifters, blazing onto the scene with a merciless brand of deathgrind eventually transitioning into the more groove based side of things. Even so, they have constantly been evolving their crushing brand of death metal by taking on a more technical approach to death metal yet still retaining the vicious brutality that they are known for. If you had to sum up the band’s latest record, ManiaCult, in one word it would be simply this; bludgeoning.
In what can only be described as sonic lobotomy with a trepanation thrown on top for good measure, ManiaCult is a brutal death metal exhibition. Although the band have not deviated from their signature band of torso crushing, skull splitting riffs, they have amplified the darker elements of their sound. With tracks ‘Verderf’ and ‘Verbolgen’ offering a dark and uncomfortably quiet soundscapes before all chaos is unleashed. The former opens the album with an ominous dissonance akin to those of a sci-fi television series, whereas the latter feels like it is plucked straight from a gothic horror film. While album intros have become commonplace on Aborted records, the insertion of ‘Verbolgen’ as a brief interlude is an interesting one. Offering up a nearly two minute hiatus in the middle of the album demonstrates the dynamic variety that the band wanted to implement on this album.
One only needs to look beneath the labyrinthine streets and canals to see what talent this area is producing and harbouring. However, one act that completely substitutes conformity for authentic ingenuity and musical integrity is VOW. A somewhat secretive proposition who’s namesake will be met with knowing smiles and nods from the most dedicated pursuers of contemporary extremity, VOW are often lauded as being one of the most challenging, uncompromising and forward thinking bands in the Northern area. A mighty reputation indeed, but it’s something they effortlessly uphold with their latest effort Icarian.
Composed of a 13 minute monolith of a title track and a reimagining courtesy of Pijn drummer All Partial (Nick Watmough), this record dynamically showcases VOW’s mindset in visceral and cerebral clarity. Much akin to their 2018 effort Slow Decline, a 35 minute record delivered in two tracks, ‘Icarian’ as a whole is a product of organic variety both in terms of style and emotion. It’s chaptered, multidirectional, multifaceted and simply brilliant.
Opening with morose ambient atmospherics that set the stage for a creeping, ominous riff all before a ravaging midsection of black-metal torment and blastbeats, this is a track of tight fluidity, one focused on it’s direction. One could easily allocate tags such as black metal, post-rock, sludge and noise but yet it’s all of that and more. You wouldn’t be too off the mark by saying it’s the string that joins the dots between acts such as Thou, If These Trees Could Talk, Primitive Man and Amenra – especially in regards to it’s relative focus on progressive nonconformity – but still, it would be pointless to try and pigeon-hole this band or record. VOW are band that exist to pursue the heights of what extreme music can be; they know what to say, how to do it and how to execute it in a way that’s genuinely thrilling.
Ten tracks neatly packaged and delivered by the team at Venn Records, the result is an exquisite sonic experience that will leave listeners overwhelmed with a cocktail of emotions right across the spectrum. The opening ambience of the record’s introduction lets you know you’re in for a treat, and the dynamic range displayed across the band’s latest body of work only elevates your catharsis. The Cold In Every Shelter explores a deep lyrical narrative, and documents the raw discomfort in being surrounded by a vast majority of people who seem both settled and satisfied. I Feel Fine have always stood out from the pack with their unique approach to their vocal style, and the ever present gang vocals sprawl across every track on the album. Whilst some might consider this a little invasive, those people would be wrong – not only does the joint vocal collective hammer the record home, it’s part of the band’s very essence.
‘Something New To Worry About’ flows seamlessly into lead single ‘Elemenohpea’, and by the time we arrive at the one minute interlude that comes in the form of ‘(Keeping House I)’ you’ll find yourself fully invested in the record, and stoked for the remainder of the journey to unfold.
Which for all intents and purposes is a certainly a good thing if we keep getting releases such as Istok, the latest offering from St. Petersburg’s TRNA. The trio’s fourth record and first to be released under the Candlelight Records banner, Istok certainly fits snuggly into what is to be expected from the blackgaze sound; the band’s inspirations of Wolves In The Throne Room, Amenra and Slowdive are clearly evident over the course of Istok’s run time. But what set’s Istok apart from the blackened throng is the fact that it’s almost entirely instrumental and TRNA’s dedication to creating what they dub as “celestial blackgaze”. It’s certainly a bold and lofty description to allocate to your own music – especially given genre’s long rooted fixation on holding reverence to the Earth and it’s wildlife – but regardless, there are moments where this self-appointed accolade does live up to it’s namesake.
Istok’s opener and respective title track does show that TRNA can remould the blackgaze sound to their own design all whilst still retaining the core identity of the genre. A comprehensibly picturesque soundscape, one comprised of barren mountains resisting crushing reverb below nebulous lashings of cold colour, the track is a sweeping shot of almost cinematic scope. It’s also more shoegaze orientated than it is black metal in terms of musicality. But thematically, the callous nature of the blackgaze identity is prominent, with the tips of the genre subdued under the gazing weight of the track. Such tips do jettison on the proceeding ‘Echoes Of The Past’, a track of similar frosty nature, but it does feel that the aggression synonymous of blackened extremity has been substituted for atmospheric majesty. Even with bombastic assaults of fury charging to and fro across these tracks, the focus very much here is on introspection and is very much the sound of a band that’s rooted yet looking skyward for inspiration and guidance.
The South coast three-piece have made it their mission to provide escapism from the endless drudgery of daily life. On second full length How Not To Be Happy, they take tales of mundanity and spin them into pop-flecked, grungey odes to the misery with tongues planted firmly in cheek.
Opener ‘I Can’t Hear Myself Think’ features snarling vocals and a chorus hook that’ll stick in your head for days. Not only that but the quick pacing lends plenty of energy despite the more morose lyrical topics. Lines such as “Bringin’ me down / Bringin’ me down / Look at me now” suggest refusal to be held down and to continue doing things your own way. ‘Work So Hard’ is a sarcastic take on being a slave to the grind, opening with a simple but effective bass lick with short stabs of guitar.
