Psykokondriak – Gloomy Days


Offering anarchic imagination and musical unpredictability is French rockers Psykokondriak, a band, to use a term in their new album’s press release, which “is a sixheaded hydra, a rock ‘n roll and hip-hop chimera.” They are also an encounter which on the evidence of Gloomy Days leaves a grin on the face and spirit as its parade of deranged adventures posing as songs spring inescapable fun fuelled incitements.

The band’s sound is like a mix of Hollywood Undead, Beastie Boys, Toumaï, and Red Hot Chili Peppers; groove infested and as funky as a swingers party and all led by a voraciously infectious hip hop devilry. Formed in 2006, Psykokondriak went through numerous line-up changes before releasing debut EP Hôpital Psykotrip six years later. Mid-2014 saw the current line-up in place, MC’s Y.B. (aka Mc Body) and Braeckman (aka Mc BOY) linking up with guitarist Tristan Florin (aka Docteur Florkin), bassist Cédric Desneulin (aka le comte Eskarfesse), drummer Aurélien Desneulin (aka L’empereur Mark Oreill), and DJ Julien Delville (aka DJ Stam Iff). Following an appearance on the Christmas compilation album Walt the Fuck last year, Gloomy Days is the sextet’s biggest nudge on attention and result of the band expanding their sound, a release with numerous familiar aspects and fiercely enjoyable and unique exploits.

Introducing the Body Boys is the short entrance into the album, the vocalists announcing themselves and the forthcoming adventure as sturdy strikes of sound engage in ear pleasing coaxing as turntables sizzle. It leads straight into Psyko Waltz, Pt. 1, a continuation in sound and style of that initial invitation. The bass instantly sets out on a funk infested grooving as vocals bounce around, a lure entangled in sonic interplay as swinging beats entice a tempest of twists and raw energy. The track easily recruits ears and appetite for its somewhat recognisable sounds yet individual character of imagination which in turn only develops and expands as the track continues to grow. By its closing, the track is as heavy and invasive as a Korn meets (Hed)p.e. proposal and as enjoyable.

The Fine Art of Terror follows, thrusting hungry riffs and funk bred grooves through ears as vocal declaration and predacious attitude drive the energy and character of the excellent encounter. Again hips and feet are swiftly gripped by the creative and contagious drama escaping Psykokondriak, the band raging and swinging with matching dexterity before Workless Dance opens up its inescapable flirtation with wiry hooks and vocal revelry. In no time the track is a festival of lean grooves and thicker expulsions, at times carrying the scent of a Primer 55 or at other moments exploring something akin to 633 meets Crazy Town, every second leading to an unexpected turn.

A similar template provides the canvas for Monstros Incorporantes next; punk rock, metal, and hip hop colliding in a jungle of swiping beats, predacious bass and guitar grooves, and vocal infectiousness. Again familiar elements entangle fresh enterprise as the track grips ears and bodies before the brief cinematic instrumental interlude of Gunfight Helicopters sets up the raucously psychotic Think It Up. Like Flea and co losing their sanity as early Faith No More interferes, the deranged engagement jumps around like its feet are burning on hot creative coals, again the imagination as hooked as ears on Psykokondriak’s fun soaked bedlam.

The album’s best track comes next, Spookadelic Fever Mansion opening with much of the classic Alfred Hitchcock TV show intro before sauntering into an aural spook fest of swaying rhythms aligned to a low slung bassline. With its cartoonish swagger and the rapacious aggression which blossoms in certain moments, it plays like a Scooby Doo meets Beetlejuice soundtrack while lyrically snarling. The track is glorious; reason enough to take a look at Psykokondriak and quickly backed up by Hot Day Hotter Night and its funk stroll with moments of climactic eruption and anthemic vocal roars; it all simply impossible not to get thickly engaged in.

Closing on the dark strains of Unherited Culture, a track reminding a little of nineties UK band Honky but exploring its own experimental and threatening shadows, Gloomy Days simply hits the spot for something fresh and exciting. Musically at times it is not the most unique yet every recognisable aspect is countered and surpassed by moments of imagination and craft masked as lunacy.  Whether Gloomy days will break Psykokondriak into new hungry spotlights time will tell but it will definitely recruit a horde of new fans with us to the fore.

Gloomy Days is out now across most online stores and streaming @

Pete RingMaster 01/09/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Peekaboo Primate – Misanthropical


Bedlam suggests an element of chaos to its madness, an uncontrolled essence which certainly does not fit the character of Misanthropical, the new album from Finnish alternative metallers Peekaboo Primate. Yet in every other way the word best describes the creative diversity and inventive loco of the band’s irresistible incitement. The release holds ten tracks which twist and turn like a kinetically sonic kaleidoscope weaving an eclectic array of flavours into their own distinct imagination fuelled escapades.

Peekaboo Primate is like the joker in the pack of modern metal; not the fool playing with a lunatic demeanour just for attention, though mischief is never far from their imagination and songs, but the bold protagonist using unpredictable exploits to ignite the senses and inspire thoughts towards, in the case of Misanthropical, a world where “as ugly, brutal and harsh but sometimes also beautiful as it is – everybody wants to be part of the greatest party of our time before our species go extinct solely by our own hand.

Hailing from Tampere, and originally under the name of Airhead, Peekaboo Primate was formed in 2004 by vocalist Lauri Lepokorpi and drummer Riku Airisto. The original line-up also included Hannu Kumpula and Tuomas Kumpula up to the release of the band debut album Peek-a-boo Primates in 2011. Following its release, the band changed its name to Peekaboo Primate with its personnel subsequently completed by the addition of guitarist Matti Auerkallio and bassist Juhani Rytkönen.

The time between albums has seen the band’s sound evolve and become even more defined in its real uniqueness, though if looking for a hint to what band and Misanthropical offer, imagine a mix of Dog Fashion Disco, American Head Charge, and Five Star Prison Cell with a touch of 6:33 to it. From its first heartbeat the album has ears and attention gripped; Spray Tan opening things up with an assault of tenaciously unpredictable rhythms and hungry riffs as wiry grooves wind around their thick bait. The vocals of Lepokorpi are just as dynamic and impressive, carrying an air of Chad Gray to their rousing presence at times as keys and guitars create a masterfully tempestuous and exotically dramatic theatre of sound

PP_Cover_RingMasterReviewIt is a thumping start matched in quality and irresistibility by the psychotically cultured Ha Ha. Sonic and rhythmic stabs court vocal shenanigans from the start with heftier beats soon adding their instable intent to the quickly compelling mix. Slithers of jazz and groove metal flirt with avant-garde psychosis as the track grows and writhes as well as anthemically incites in equal measure before allowing Nothing the opportunity to prey on an already submissive appetite and imagination for the release. The song saunters along with flirtatious and intimidating hues to the fore, Lepokorpi like the ringleader in its midst as his narrative challenges and highlights the issues theming the magnetic proposal.

From its initial intriguing low key start, The Unleashed soon unveils a pulsating and sinister body of synth bred sound as exotic and sultry hues in female voice and melodic suggestiveness add an alluring invitation. The challenging words of Lepokorpi probe and echo in the background before with unpredictability as enjoyable and prominent as ever, the track slips into a reggae cultured shade of character, though it is just one moment in the revolving journey of the encounter.

An addictive dose of pop ‘n’ roll grips next in the outstanding shape of Heroine, its catchy colour led by the great guest vocals of Noora Louhimo from Battle Beast. The rest of the song is a predacious prowl with the again effect coated tones of Lepokorpi stirring up riffs and rhythms between the flames of pop temptation. Within moments, it is sure to have bodies bouncing and voices fully involved, as ours, before Mama Earth rumbles as sonic spices zoom in and out across its growling tone and nature; that American Head Charge reference coming to the fore here, across a wonderfully grouchy yet fiercely inviting proposition.

As its predecessor, Star has a more ‘straight forward’ adventure to its body, though as the last treat too, there are plenty of unexpected and seamlessly woven together twists to catch out expectations and enthral the imagination, especially when uncaging some creative aberration midway. It’s more composed sanity and boldness is contrasted by the delicious raw frenzy of Peekaboo Primate, the track a demented slice of noise rock infested avant-garde/nu metal mania and quite irresistible as it stalks and bruises the senses.

Some of its punkiness survives in the cantankerous luring of ears by Follow My Lead, though the song is unafraid to bring some pop seeded melody and contagion into its imposing metal shuffle between even more irritable and aggressive trespasses.

Ending with the melodic caress of 291112, an emotively suggestive instrumental which fits easier into the scheme of the album with each full listen, Misanthropical is ripe pickings for the imagination and enjoyment. It offers a canvas and adventure which persistently provides fresh twists and surprises even after numerous listens. We will admit, we had not heard of Peekaboo Primate previously, a band which right now it is hard with their music to get out of our heads.

Misanthropical is released on CD and digitally May 12th via Inverse Records.

Pete RingMaster 12/05/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Boss Keloid – Herb Your Enthusiasm

Boss Keloid_RingMasterReview

Big praise drenched words and claims have been shared in the build up to the release of the new album from British heavy rockers Boss Keloid, and we can quite eagerly say that Herb Your Enthusiasm more than lives up to every syllable of acclaim offered. The Wigan hailing quartet’s second album is simply superb, inescapably irresistible, and a ravenous incitement entangling the finest ravenous textures of sludge, doom, stoner, progressive rock and much more. For ten tracks it turns ears and imagination inside out with unpredictability and ferocious adventure that catches the breath as equally as the heavy predacious sounds and rabidly dark ideation terrorises the senses. The release is spellbindingly fascinating and destined to stalk the top places of end of year best album lists.

As in debut album The Calming Influence of Teeth of 2013, riffs carry a furious rabidity as rhythms probe and punish within Herb Your Enthusiasm. That alone provides a proposal demanding attention with the seduction of low-slung grooves only increasing the senses intimidating, imagination courting prowess at work. To this masterful palette of raw intensity and barbarous persuasion the band layers further temptations of melodic dissonance and glamour, progressive drama, and at times an avant-garde psychosis which just puts hex on album and listener. The result is a release which blows its impressive predecessor out of the water and announces Boss Keloid as a big creative predator in a large devouring pond.

Recorded and mixed by Chris Fielding at Skyhammer Studios and mastered by James Plotkin, Herb Your Enthusiasm opens up with Lung Mountain, a track swiftly providing the template for the heart of the album. Riffs badger and pounce on ears as the hefty swings of drummer Ste Arands resonate on the senses. It takes little time though for band and album to slip in something more sultrily comfortable as guitarist Paul Swarbrick shares flirtatious melodies cross a calmer landscape where the already rousing roar of vocalist Alex Hurst mellows into a more enticing growl. With Jon Davis of Conan guest and adding to the vocal web, the bass of Adam Swarbrick is all the while a predator, stalking the song and imagination with its swaying animus for a perfect temper to the kinder climate and the spark for more ravenous intent elsewhere. As shown time and time again, there is so much going on in songs only physically embracing them can reveal all with every listen perpetually revealing a new twist or texture to get hooked on.

Boss Keloid_HYE_Front_Artwork_RingMasterReviewThe progressive ingenuity in the latter stages of the song only adds to a theatre of sound and craft which continues in the imagination fuelled emprise of Haarlem Struggle. An exotic acoustic opening is soon a tempestuous wall of lumbering confrontation, though that early spicing still flavours the bracing proposal of primal intensity aflame with senses enveloping harmonies. Strains of death and groove metal among other bold spices are equally glimpsed in the brewing maelstrom, teasing and thrilling ears though not as much as the subsequent spiral into experimental adventure towards the track’s rear where Boss Keloid conjure an alchemy best described as a bedlam of Faith No More, Trepalium, 6:33, and Destrage.

Giving a final crushing of ears as it leaves, the excellent track makes way for the equally compelling Escapegoat where grunge/stoner toxicity quickly grips and excites whilst vocals and rhythms collude with more tenebrific riffs within an atmospheric trespass. There is no let-up of thick pressure and corrosive intensity across the song, its invigorating voracious intent single minded as its heads into the doom spawned jaws of Cone. Amongst resonating bass bait and dark fibrous grooves, Alex Hurst flirts with a Mike Patton like devilry for his early presence though he and song need little prompting to raise their antagonistic side as heavy rock and thunderous rhythms align for an invasive tsunami of sound and intent. For every assault offered there comes a flirtatious groove or virulent infectiousness that has the body and passions swinging, here it revealing a great Alice In Chains like hue to its tempting.

Axis of Green keeps the release and enjoyment on the same striking plateau, the rhythmic agility of Ste Arands and Adam Swarbrick catching ears in swift time as Paul Swarbrick’s sonic strands and venomous grooves weave in and out. Increasingly more eventful as it progresses, ending with a progressively tenacious and again expectations destroying climax, the song is followed by Highatus, a brief and fiery slice of instrumental sludge suggestiveness which is far more straight forward than the tracks around it but similarly enjoyable before being seriously outshone by Lung Valley. With psych rock keys and the increasingly impressing vocal variety and quality of Alex Hurst instantly sparking further lustful reactions, the track creates a tapestry of grouchily invasive textures and inviting grooves. Every element is as welcoming as they are imposing, and ultimately all addictively persuasive.

The fierce blaze and climactic toning of Elegant Odyssey enslaves next, every groove and slither of ingenuity infesting the psyche as the senses are bruised and body physically nagged by the track’s weight and aggressively shared intent. With its mercurial and spellbinding character, the track is simply outstanding, a ravenous triumph to bear and lustfully embrace, much as the final pairing of songs on the album. Chabal steps forward first, Davis again featuring as another array of textures and rock ‘n’ roll strains entangle and unite as the band forcibly push their songwriting and imagination whilst similarly imposing on the listener, trapping them in a web of contagious exploits and instinctively quarrelsome incitement.

Hot Priest closes up Herb Your Enthusiasm and is as exceptional as its two predecessors. Immediately it flirts with ears in an avant-garde rock shuffle with keys and rhythms sharing off-kilter imagination and enterprise too. Of course in no time, Boss Keloid has uncaged the pugnacious side of their invention with combative riffs and beats led by snarling vocals descending on the senses. From there the two contrasting sides continue to switch within and share the track’s glorious presence.

We have only hinted at the heart, body, and character of Herb Your Enthusiasm such its rich depths and imagination. Your job is to explore it, embrace, it, and be mercilessly buffeted and seduced by something surely few will manage to better this year.

Herb Your Enthusiasm is released April 8th via Black Bow Records and @

Pete RingMaster 07/o4/2016

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Anti-Clone – The Root Of Man


If asked at the start of the year which was the one release we were most anticipating in 2016 there would have been no pause of thought involved in saying the debut album from UK metallers Anti-Clone. They had us addictively hooked into their own distinct nu-metal bred, psyche twisting sound from the outstanding Hands Sewn Together EP, which had its highly successful national release back in 2014. Its tracks were a regular part of our podcasts too, finding the same eagerness across a horde of other shows and stations with the mainstream media soon waking up to the band’s emergence in turn. Now two years on and quickly following reputation cementing and pushing performances supporting Mushroomhead and Sanguine on certain dates of their recent UK tour, the Boston hailing quintet are poised to unleash The Root Of Man.

The question was never going to be would the album live up to expectations seeded in the last EP and the hefty fuss around the band, that just seemed to be a given in thoughts, but would their music have grown and evolved enough to make them a real contender to stir up the metal scene beyond the UK as earlier songs suggested. Well, the answer is found within the first few tracks of the eleven song incitement alone. Together they give a rousing confirmation with their creative roar, only being forcibly backed by the rest of an album which in some ways continues where the Hands Sewn Together EP left off but immediately shows a craftier and imaginatively more exhilarating, not forgetting broader, weave of styles and flavours in its boldly sculpted songs. The Root Of Man is Anti-Clone on a new mature imagination drenched plateau from songwriting to sound to presentation. There is inventive confidence and fierce adventure at every turn as the scent of inspirations from the forefathers of the nu-metal scene are again embraced, twisted, and honed into openly fresh textures within the band’s own fascinating experimentation.

art_RingMasterReviewFormed in 2011 but really finding its creative mojo once the current line-up was in place a couple or so years later, the Lincolnshire band soon sparked a hungry and swiftly growing fan base for their dramatically addictive sound which reached its first pinnacle in the Hands Sewn Together EP. Live too, the band has grown to be one of Britain’s prime incitements, sharing stages with the likes of American Head Charge, Kindred, ESO, Breed 77, Sworn Amongst, Maplerun, Evil Scarecrow, and Bloodshot Dawn amongst many along the way. Linking up with EP producer Matt Hyde (Machine Head, Trivium, Fightstar, As I Lay Dying and Slipknot) again for The Root Of Man, the quintet of brothers Drew (drums/ programming) and Peter ‘Mr Clone’ Moore (vocals), Conor (guitar) and Liam Richardson (guitar), and Mike Bradbury (bass) are seemingly poised to set their place at the head table of the UK and indeed European metal scene.

Dually looking at “the beginning of the human race, starting with Eve committing original sin which resulted in us being cast out of Eden” and symbolising the band’s beginning as a band; “These are the roots that we are planting to fully establish ourselves as our own entity, to establish ourselves as Anti-Clone“, the pledge music funded The Root of Man immediately grips ears and imagination with its title track. It is a brief but inescapable lure into the album, an as expected apocalyptically ambience clouded scene setter which is soon crawling portentously over the senses as steely bass and toxic grooves wrap the enjoyably familiar tones of Mr Clone. Its dark tempest rolls straight in to Deracinated which seamlessly draws ears into its own animus of intent and creative rapacity. Straight away an industrial toning merges with the schizophrenic nu-metal prowess which flows from the band, Society 1 meets Mudvayne like essences adding to the imposing character and trespass of the fearsome magnetism on offer. Ebbing and flowing in raw confrontation, the track bewitches ears and stirs up the appetite, setting them in an unfamiliar and disorientating yet welcoming blend of old school aired modern imagination for a seriously rousing slab of predacious incitement.

SwitchBlade growls at and brawls with the senses next, vocals from Mr Clone and the Richardson brothers almost pestilential in their psyche invading animosity as the sounds around them rise and fall with constant inhospitable adventure. Melodic calms and percussive invention are just as potent lures in the agitated imagination and landscape of the song; all colluding to savage and spellbind before A Sight For Sewn Eyes prowls ears with Fear Factory/Spineshank tinged ingenuity. As replicated across the whole of the album, every moment of the song brings greed breeding drama to the listener, Mr Clone showing his clean melodic tones are as fiercely agreeable as the rawer psychosis fuelled side of his vocal character. The song persistently twists and turns from the start before reaching a bedlamic crescendo that never truly departs once erupting as the song leaves on a groove bound web of suggestiveness.

With a constant range of peaks across its landscape as momentous and memorable as the Alps, B9 adds another with its Manson-esque textured slice of predatory heavy metal whilst Twisted Neck entangles ears in the intoxicating vines of toxic grooves which wrap a calmer melody hued serenade beneath a thickly tempestuous and predatory climate of sound and personality. Both tracks present a tapestry of styles and textures, the first also flirting with steampunk like elements where, not for the last time, Anti-Clone have a touch of the now sadly demised Shanklin Freak Show to them. Its successor flirts with a colouring which is more 6:33 meets Dog Fashion Disco though as always, it is hard to pin down a flavour such the Anti-clone ingenuity as they align spices to their own enthralling ideation.

A great punk metal hue seeps into the riveting and mercurial soundscape of Mechanical Heart, the track as welcoming as it is fearsome with sinister keys and avant-garde devilry lining another almost rabid mix of nu and industrial metal carrying at times more than a whisper of death metal to it. Compelling to the extreme, the track simply wants an apocalypse based Hellraiser movie to grace to see its majesty totally fulfilled, though fair to say there is no time to linger in thought with any song during the album as here Feed The Machine steals attention instantly with its vocally anthemic and physically bracing proposal. Repetition in word and sound within the track is a glorious igniting of instincts; that simplicity employed in another rich weave of roving grooves and a cantankerous rhythms skilfully sewn into an irresistibly unpredictable but dramatically galvanic onslaught. Like early Korn in some ways and Slipknot in others, the track still stands distinctively tall as another unique Anti-Clone ravaging of the senses and passions.

ComaSpace brings a moment of relative calm and the chance to catch breath next though unsurprisingly it too has irritability to its tone and dark imposing edge to its atmosphere. Vocally Mr Clone entices ears with a clean delivery as melodies merge acoustic and more aggravated hues into the Deftones spiced offering. Again the band has ears and appetite enthralled, though even being another impressive moment within The Root Of Man, it gets overshadowed a little by Astaroth. The band’s new upcoming single, the song is sonic slavery; the reason mosh pits and lustful reactions were bred into life. As barbarous as anything on the release and the most virulently contagious assault too, the track has everything you need to know about Anti-Clone and whether they are the tonic to your personal musical passions.

Completed by the grisly presence and voice of Sentinel, a sonic inferno of psyche burrowing riffs and grooves amidst an insatiable and concussive tempest of sound and attitude, The Root Of Man is the declaration of a new major force in UK and undoubtedly European metal. Anti-Clone is set to be one of those guiding their journeys over the following years whilst with this superb release, the band has placed themselves right there in stature alongside a great many of those who have inspired their adventure to date.

The Root Of Man is released 29th April  via PHD (Plastic Head Distribution) with more information @

Pete RingMaster 04/04/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Incendiary Arousals: Twenty one Metal/Noise/Rock releases which lit up The RingMaster Review in 2015

2015 was a year of creative savagery and rousing, anthemic glories within metal, rock, and noise driven genres. The RingMaster Review picks out those EPs/albums covered by the site which especially sparked ears and passions.


OMNISCIENT_FC_RingMaster Review

Desert Storm – Omniscient

Skindred – Volume

William English – Basic Human Error

Arcade Messiah – II

Arcade-Messiah-II-Cover_RingMaster Review

Tirades – Lifetime of Wars

Raketkanon – Rktkn#2

Show of Bedlam – Roont

XII Boar – Pitworthy

Cover_RingMaster Review

Jess & The Ancient Ones – Second Psychedelic Coming: The Aquarius Tapes

Shevils – The White Sea

Shattered Skies – The World We Used To Know

Possessor – Stay Dead

cover_RingMaster Review

Grumpynators – Wonderland

Shaving The Werewolf – The Pissing Link

Sofy Major – Waste

6:33 – Deadly Scenes

art6:33_RingMaster Review

Murdock – Dead Lung

Grenouer – Unwanted Today

Markradonn – The Serpentine Deception

We’ll Go Machete – Smile Club


cover_RingMaster Review

TesseracT – Polaris

The RingMaster Review 01/01/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Gloomy Hellium Bath – Sistema Solera

ARTWORK GHB_RingMaster Review

Always partial to some creative bedlam or a seemingly deranged adventure which, no matter how much you think you understand it, never fails to surprise and leave a vacant expression of pleasure on the face, Sistema Solera was destined to spark an eager appetite here for its sonic psychosis. It is easy to predict that the riveting debut album from French trio Gloomy Hellium Bath is not going to be for everyone but if the likes of Pryapisme, Mr Bungle, or 6:33 light the fires, then this unique fusion of industrial, electronic, and metal bred incitement is well worth exploring.

Gloomy Hellium Bath is the union of former guitarist Würm Edgard Chevallier (guitar/machine/samples) and Christophe Denhez (guitar /vocals), the latter no stranger to exciting ears through his work and releases with Nerv, Mur, and Område. Emerging in 2014, the Val d’Oise hailing project, with a line-up completed by bassist Neil, also previously of Würm, takes no prisoners with its infestation of the senses and emotions. Their sound is compelling aural violence and off-kilter enticement spun with black humoured mischief and realism caked antagonism; the result a cacophony of raw and intricate ideas honed into a roaring storm of gripping chaos and as shown by Sistema Solera, deviously captivating.

Fight is first, instantly throwing a melee of voices and fizzing sound at ears before leaping into a psychotic stomp with carnivorous walls, ravenous vocals, and warped electronic flirtation. Imagine Mindless Self Indulgence and Rabbit Junk in a dirty fusion with Young Gods and you get a whiff of the lunacy soaked enterprise, though from its ‘mid-season’ break it returns as another fresh industrial shaped punk of a proposal with the vocal alone insanely bewitching.

It is a great start continuing with Alcoholique Djerk, the track organically evolving from certain aspects of its predecessor to explore an even more industrial metal hued canter quickly working its way into the psyche. Equally it is unafraid to expose raw nerves with caustic eruptions and abrasing animosity, or indeed to throw one or two exotic or incendiary sonic slithers of surprise in to the mix too.

Fuck It swings in next, warm yet fuzzy air and sound coating ears as melodic rock with grunge lined edges colours the song’s sinister intent before hardened and rapacious provocation blends with funk urged enterprise and vocal revelry. Across its body, the track reveals a host of flavours, country rock and jazzy scented essences amongst the metallic turbulence again walling in varied endeavours within the song.

The album’s title track merges haunted and dark natured ambience with atmospheric volatility straight after, its Nine Inch Nails toned electronic grumble drawing in lighter exploits throughout to evocatively spark ears and imagination whilst setting up the tenaciously energetic and dynamic Lady Boy with its steely schizophrenic rock ‘n’ roll carrying elements of Trepalium and We All Die (Laughing) to it.

Across the sonic dissonance of Ouarchhh and the industrial neurosis of Bloody Mary, band and album wrong-foot, ignite, and twist body and thoughts inside and out. The first of the pair has a slight whiff of US band Pere Ubu to it in many ways as essential grooves and hooks lurk and spear an unpredictable landscape of dark intrigue and disorientating aural dementia with emotions to match whilst its successor scythes through and permeates the senses via a debilitating cyber invasion.

A melodic calm of sorts mellows things a degree or two through Fucking Mashine, its emotive and enveloping croon expectantly laced with provocatively disturbed and manipulative additives bringing light and dark, reserved and twisted elements in potent collusion. The track brings another open and striking variation to the album as too the CD version’s closer Dead Rising Horse, a drama of piston driven rhythms and scuzzy temptation aligned to melodic seduction and tempestuous extremes in sound and creative provocation. It is a rousing conclusion to a release which might need time to get fully under the skin but is ultimately very likely to if the kind of warped imagination it holds is the kind of pleasure which gets the senses and passions inflamed.

As suggested for some it might be an adventure too far, but Sistema Solera for the rest of us is as easy to greedily devour treat.

Sistema Solera is out now via Dooweet Records @

Pete RingMaster 17/12/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Shatner’s Bassoon – The Self-Titled Album Shansa Barsnaan

SB_RingMaster Review

We have all had a dream which is ripe with randomness so abstract that it somehow makes sense, and that is exactly what it is like listening to The Self-Titled Album Shansa Barsnaan, the new album from Shatner’s Bassoon. Not that our brain cells have yet managed to come to terms with any of its themes, if there are any, or the intent behind its psyche twisting bedlam of creativity, but without doubt we are having the richest fun and enjoyment trying.

Shatner’s Bassoon is a sextet from Leeds taking influences from the likes of Tim Berne, Mr. Bungle, John Zorn, Frank Zappa, and an expansive range of styles and flavours into their warped composing and sound. Equally individual experiences of its members carry a diverse range stemming from European folk, Hindustani music, Brazilian music, straight ahead and free jazz, reggae, metal, contemporary classical, musique concrete and most likely plenty more inspiring spices. 2013 saw the release of their debut album Aquatic Ape Privilege and last year the live EP, The Crowd Grows Mild. Now representing “the summation of the last three years of working since the addition of Joost Hendrickx on drums and electronics”, Shatner’s Bassoon release their second album of unhinged imagination, an encounter from Johhny Richards (Keyboards/Piano), Michael Bardon (Bass/Bongos/Botanical String Quartet), Andrew Lisle (Drums), Oliver Dover (Saxophones/Bass Clarinet), Craig Scott (Guitar), and Hendrickx which puzzles, bemuses, seriously confuses but most of just thrills.

cover_RingMaster Review     Bruce Lawn starts the album off and according to the press release sees “Seemingly disparate musical fragments converge into a unified theme as catchy and uncomfortable as gonorrhoea. It dissolves as quickly as it manifests into a visceral aural soup, crashing into an overtly sexual Transylvanian organ punch.” It opens with a handful of lusty seconds of anthemic sax bursts and handclaps before flinging a host of discord kissed sounds made up of melodic and sonic tweaks. Already thoughts are conjuring a picnic in a thirties freak show, an abundance of off-kilter beauty providing an embrace of joy with sorrowful undertones. As with every track, and no matter the hints given by the band musically and in word, each listen sends the imagination down a new avenue of lively and shadowed adventure, though ones maybe not quite as disturbed or avant-garde as the ideas in the minds bringing the piece to ears. Band and song continue to ‘meander’ and spin new detours, a few of them Essential Logic like, as it drifts into an increasingly sinister haunting; coming out the other side with aural face paint smudged and mental coherence askew.

Bruce Lawn II: Arms like a Mirage comes next; the song’s initial elegantly chilled breath a surreal reflection of its predecessor’s final dark throes whilst spinning slowly deeper into its own turbulent intrigue of sound and barely masked insanity. It all leads to a bordering on bestial climax which is almost 6:33 like in its concussive collision of jazz, rock, and whatever else lies within its tapestry of aggression.

Like that initial spattering of water as rain clouds open is how Fringe in my eyes, Thighs in disguise sheds its mosaic of incompatible yet united sound next, each note from the song sheet a jazz bred splatter marking its territory; yes warped sounds seem to breed warped ideas, in us anyway.

Percussion and rhythms provide a skittish but fluent dance to set Mushroom/Fancy a Waltz away; bulging blobs of sax and clarinet flirting with the spicy strings of the guitar soon after before things get a little psychotically hairy in something best described by the band itself as “a machine gun spluttered duet finally melting into a refreshingly resolute meditation.” To be honest whatever we write or they say is a scratch upon the strange and spellbinding tapestry at work throughout the album and its individual exploits of tangling sound and ingenuity.

Ten seconds of innocence coated sax gaiety is all Mitch Fargone’s walk to school offers before Advocates of Anti-Funk pulsates and shimmers in a kaleidoscope of melodic and brassy sunspots, all wanting to share their swinging hips before eventually colluding in a dark carnival-esque seducing. Rip Rig & Panic meets Mr Bungle might be a good way to describe it…actually not really as again Shatner’s Bassoon cast only their own uniqueness over ears.

The dark enchantment of Boat Comforts moves in like sea fog, creaking boards and melancholic siren sent calls mesmerising and tantalising the senses. Every passing second brings darker and stranger nautical essences, the piece toying with the imagination like a Jules Verne on LSD written adventure complete with a bare boned and crazed shanty. Cardiacs come to mind the more the song spills its insanity and rum brewed frenzy before Boat Comforts Part II: Goat Conference / The Real Shim Lady unveils its own sonic choral of loco spawned textures and cracked rhythmic incitement. Like the unbridled discordance of eighties band Stump infesting the psyche and the creative prowess of a composer to a silent movie, the track goes from low key musical disorder to sinew swung hysteria and back again into deep melancholy.

Next comes DMT AABA which is like a nursery room found in American Horror Story, it in turn followed by the even more thickly haunting of The Ballad of Long Egg, a track which for whatever reason sparked thoughts of films like Roman Polanski’s Repulsion and The Tenant. Closing eyes whilst listening to the track ensures it is an atmospheric noir scare, its textual narrative high suggestion even if the results brewed mentally do or do not match the band’s intent.

Inspector Fargone is another passing swoosh of temptation, its twenty odd seconds like a spaced-out Jacques Tati moment whilst the brilliant Boghead (WaspSpeed) is a fevered uproar of energy through a palette of eccentric funky sounds and demented brass grimaces and eruptions, all coming together like a Dali sculpted painting by numbers, though of course there is no recognisable order or structure to the blaze of premeditated and free form ingenuity.

The album is brought to a close by an enveloping lure of sound which again can only be described as haunting. Will you be my Friend? draws in vocals for the first time, their harmonies as left field and fascinating as the sounds hugging their presence, and wonderfully as musically heretical as the gentle cacophony creating one enthralling and exhaustingly bewitching album.

When you listen to The Self-Titled Album Shansa Barsnaan you will have a totally different view and response to its songs, that is a given such its diversity and unfathomable genius but most will agree that for appetites of humour loaded music with an insanity as broad as the imagination and wealth of flavours in its creation, Shatner’s Bassoon have provided one feverish treat.

The Self-Titled Album Shansa Barsnaan is available via Wasp Millionaire Records from September 24th.

Pete Ringmaster 23/09/2015

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