and intense moment here, without being the fastest or most aggressive. They are at their best between the choppy, cut-time onslaughts, when the guitars are more dissonant and sparse. This gives the strong (but still one-note) vocals and rhythm section work carry more of the load. It’s the most noteworthy, complete song, though all five are solid. [Anderson]
www.weheartrecords.co.uk
Cursed
III; The Architects of Troubled Sleep Since their first full length—the cleverly-titled I— in 2003, Canada’s Cursed have always just gotten it. Their sound runs parallel with many more potent strains of noisy hardcore over the last decade or so. The songs are based on frantic, D-beat riffs similar to Tragedy, with venomous, but still clear, focused vocals that recall Coalesce or Botch. There is an incredible breadth to the songs and the production, from focused songwriting that is never surgical or cold. The result is noisy, unpredictable and ugly. It recalls the best things about the collision of metal and hardcore with very few of the (mostly recent) pitfalls. There are no gimmicky guitar tricks, pig squeals or suburban baby-grind breakdowns. Instead, the guitar and bass riffs are cathartic and subtly melodic, while the lyrics and vocals create an actual narrative rather than the usual variety of two or three noises masquerading as intense and complex. Songs vary from just over a minute long to more than seven. The best of the lot is “Friends In The Music Business,” the nearly five-minute centerpiece. It starts with a slow, crushing build-up, with lyrics that dress down just about everything that’s left of the music business. (“When they say ‘you’ll never work in this town again.’ Is that a promise or a threat?”). By the fourth minute, it self-destructs into a perfectly barren drum and vocal refrain of “Don’t call me, I won’t call you.” It might not be the first song on the record that will grab most people, but it’s a perfect window into the best things about Cursed. Even more than their first two records, III finds Cursed at the top of their game, delivering undistilled and cynical hardcore. Sadly, not long after this was finished, the band was robbed while on tour and Europe and decided the writing was on the wall. So, it looks unlikely that Cursed will ever bring IV into the world, though their legacy as one of the purest and most interesting hardcore bands of the new millennium is already cemented. [Anderson]
www.goodfellowrecords.com
Deadbird
Twilight Ritual Arkansas’ Deadbird consists of brothers Chuck and Phil Schaaf, alongside Reid Raley and Jay Minish (Chuck and Reid also play in Little Rock’s Rwake). Everything starts off with “Into The Clearing,” slow and methodical, it sets the stage for a disc that you won’t forget. Twilight Ritual relies on long songs—the shortest being “Feral Flame,” at 5:44, and the longest, “Death of the Self,” which clocks in at 9:21. Doomy and sludgy, Deadbird also use faster tempos, which begin on “Death of the Self,” the second track. And yes, the “Track 2 Theory”—that one of the best songs on an album will almost always be track two— is in effect, as “Death of the Self” is a great song. Deep, with an excellent pace, it really helps you understand what Deadbird is all about. Vocal harmonies also creep in on this song. As expected, at more than nine minutes, the song flows throughout and meanders around a central theme. “Rule Discordia” is up third, with an old school stoner doom vibe. Vocals kick in, and you really can’t help but sit back and let it sink in. This is a great tune—just the right pace for its spot in the album. “Feral Flame” is next, and has an almost crust/punk beat to start. It gets very metal from there, and is really a great contrast and addition to the rest of the stuff on here. “The Riverbed” brings the energy back down, starting its eight-plus minutes off with a clean and slow introduction. Acoustic guitars and soulful vocals make this really draw you in. This is one of my favorites on the album. The title track closes the album with a slow build-up, right into a punch in the face. Vocals are heavy, guitars are fuzzy, and this is a great way to end the album. The artwork is also worth noting—a two-fold digipack with a really cool bird skull on the front, and some really neat adaptations of birds of prey inside. Very cool CD. [Dixon]
www.atalossrecordings.com
Defiance, Ohio
The Fear, The Fear, The Fear To say there is an urgency streaming through this record is an understatement; seething below its folk veneer is nervousness and, as the title infers, a sense of fear. The strings don’t calm; BZ’z creaking violin on “The List,” accompanied by Sherri Miller’s cello, ascend into a pulsing bow, while the sentiment marinates on one’s inability to scratch one off while the anxiety builds. The tension lurks on “The Things We Won’t Let Settle
but Let Set” as strings irk over punchy minor piano chords, and crescendos alongside cello into a mournful solo, while voices prepare to look toward the future. Maybe its song titles “Anxious & Worrying,” an upbeat revelation about determining the difference between the fear of routine and running from all that came before, or the closer “Expect the Worst” confronting our fears as realities. The 4/4 pounding of high-hat throughout or a group of angry people yelling “They can’t stop what we can’t stop I fear,” on opener “Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop.” All of which coalesces to one of the angriest folk records I’ve come across. Unlike their previous efforts, The Fear holds few, if any, moments of relief, save for the cheerful strum of “Eureka”. Yet the record confronts something just beneath the skin of underground; a tension between affecting what an individual can control and affecting what controls the individual. That tension and anxiety seeps through the speakers as Defiance, Ohio have crafted a record about the fundamental issue of our time; how do we maintain a sense of self and/ or motivation in a world looming with apathy? For Defiance, Ohio, the answer is simply to look around you and find the inspiration. [Sousa]
www.noidearecords.com
Dissolve
Caveman of the Future These thirteen songs have taken a long, strange path to their eventual release. Dissolve began in the early 90s, before signing with M.I.A. Records (Candiria, Darkest Hour) in 2000 and recording Caveman of the Future shortly after. The label closed its doors just before this was to be released, and Dissolve went on a hiatus of their own shortly after. Hardcore has changed a great deal in the seven years between the recording and release of this record, making it a perfect time capsule.This is similar to a lot of 90’s Northeastern hardcore, with heavy, chuggachugga riffs and mid-tempo metal moments. Bands like Overcast, and Disembodied come to mind, especially in Dissolve’s heavier moments. The vocal range isn’t stunning, but it is much better than many similar bands since. Their approach is relentless and punishing, with fluid drum fills and guitar leads throughout. A density prevails in all the arrangements, while the actual sections they use vary quite a bit. “Those Who Dwell Below” is the best example, channelling Pantera and Biohazard as much as it does any hardcore band. [Anderson]
www.tripmachinelabs.com
Cancer Bats Hail Destroyer
Let’s face it. Hardcore may not be dead, but it is, at the very least, hopelessly factionalized. The MySpace metal bands play to the hot pink t-shirt kids. Most of the neck tattoo bands keep chugga-chugga-ing along, with the same riffs and lyrics that were tired ten years ago. The classics are stale, but the new blood seems almost exclusively screechy and irritating. Toronto’s Cancer Bats are here to answer at least a few of these dilemmas. Seemingly disparate influences are combined into 12 songs that are just as trapped between hardcore’s predictable poles. Every minute of Hail Destroyer is focused and direct, at times even familiar. The music and lyrics aren’t traditional, though they do borrow carefully from the best of hardcore’s past and present. Leaning heavily on Black Flag and Discontent-era Refused, their songs are tight, succinct and memorable. Sometimes they remind me of fellow Canucks Comeback Kid, though Cancer Bats have more going on. “Harem of Scorpions” is melodic, but far from poppy; gracefully weaving in guest vocals from Tim McIlrath (Rise Against). “Regret” is another highlight, with choppy drumming and a guitar lead that leans on Skynrd and The Refused at the same time. “Pray For Darkness” is the requisite 90-second thrash song, and it’s even more successful than it is completely expected. All twelve songs on Hail Destroyer carve out their own little corner of Cancer Bats’ surprisingly varied sound. But there is more than enough overlap between them for a cohesive, complete record. It’s been a long time since there
were more than a few bands at any one time doing straightforward hardcore this well. Hail Destroyer may not force Alesana or Emmure to break up, but it will at least make you forget about them for 37 minutes. [Anderson]
:: ISSUE 19 ::
www.metalblade.com
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