Humans The Size Of Microphones – Human Crop Circles

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Human Crop Circles is an album which just highlights how difficult it is to be noticed in the music scene. Released by SuperFire Records in conjunction with De Graanrepubliek, the album comes from Humans The Size Of Microphones, a British hardcore/noise rock band around in the first years of this new century. Their reputation and presence did not carry too far outside of the South coast area of the UK it is fair to say and maybe without any expectations of success at some point called it a day, a disbandment we are assuming as no search came up with anything active from the band or, to be honest, about them at all. As Human Crop Circles quickly reveals, this is a crying shame as its songs simply provide one furiously thrilling and rousing incitement of ears and imagination.

At one point slated to do a split with Electric Wizard, it is hard to imagine that HTSOM did not make some major impressions on someone somewhere. An early self-released five-track demo did appear in 2002, though it too probably got lost in the mists of criminal neglect. Recorded by the band’s drummer John T Baptist in his own studio, where the likes of Electric Wizard, No, Facel Vega, Hunting Lodge, and Field Boss have also recorded, Human Crop Circles has thankfully been uncaged to right some wrongs and introduce a new wealth of ears to the rather wonderful and mercurial tempest of sound that is Humans The Size Of Microphones.

The album bursts into life with Pissing Like A Racehorse where climactic guitars and tenacious rhythms crowd ears for an incendiary start which is soon an even more enjoyably volatile affair as vocals cries and a bedlamic character expose themselves in the mix. The early urgency settles a touch without defusing the now psychotic maelstrom and air of the song, but rises again as seriously addictive bass and guitar enterprise casts a web of sonic psychosis which in turn breeds greater ferocity in the noise punk tempest. It is glorious stuff, like a mix of Melvins, Neurosis, Halfling’s Leaf, and Dope Body; the kind of comparisons which occur often across the release.

The brilliant start is as potently backed up by No One Gets Out Of Here Alive, another magnetic slice of noise imagination and punk attitude as raw and seductive as it is magnetically and antagonistically inflamed. From the first pair of sonically intricate yet bullishly demanding songs alone it is hard to know how the band escaped attention but equally just an example of so many other stories of now lost to the world special bands.

The post-hardcore textured Middle England (Eats it’s Young) steps up next, its initial emotive wash the prelude to a tantalising weave of mystique soaked grooves and bolshie yet anthemic group vocal tempting amidst muscularly tenacious rhythms and mesmeric sonic devilment. It is more than a match for the already established pinnacles of the album and almost equalled by the following flirtatious seducing shared by The Smell of Wet Leaves. Sludgy and predatory but also alive with veins of sultry melodic grooving, the track shares an early dark and catchy lure which subsequently gets turned on its head by caustic energy and creative ferocity before re-establishing itself in another smouldering passage within the eventful encounter. Without quite having the final spark to turn personal tastes lusty, the track still leaves pleasure full in its presence before being over shadowed by the outstanding Fucking Tsunami.

The fifth track just grips and thrills ears from its first bestial bassline and swiping rumble of beats; bass and drums becoming puppeteer of body and passions whilst leading both into the concussive and hellacious exploits of the song’s full body and heart. The sonic and emotive turbulence is exhausting and breath-taking, as too the twisted melodic resourcefulness which lines every twist in the track’s dervish like shuffle. As in all songs, drama comes with every moment and unpredictable turn too; here devilishly enhancing the punk meets post punk meets noise rock triumph of the song. The bass and rhythmic unity of James Hasbeen and Baptist respectively ensures the track has instincts involved, the almost corrosive sonic endeavour of guitarist Pete Sake (all names as fun as the sounds fair to say) just reinforcing the persuasion.

The final quintet of tracks come from that aforementioned demo, each a harsher and more abrasive proposal but all carrying the inventive and multi-flavoured traits that give character to all tracks. Not Exactly Rocket Science is a rousing affair of aurally poisonous punk rock whilst Limitless Stupidity is an insatiable deluge of barbarous rhythms aligned to hostility flamed riffs and vocals further blessed with spicy hooks. The pair ensures ears and appetite continue to be well fed though maybe not as dramatically as the outstanding sonic invasion of I See The World Through Rose Coloured Testicles, an uncompromising and bewitching instrumental that just gets the tongue licking lips.

The pair of Dying For An Audience and Not In Our Name bring the album to a close; the first a fibrous net of riffs and acidic grooves which wraps ears before closing ranks for another bruising and inhospitable storm of hardcore whilst its successor with matching sonic antipathy, spews a tangle of punk hooks and spiky grooves around a battlefield of rhythms. With vocals just as agreeably rancorous, the duo provides a fine end to a great and welcome surprise introduction to a band we had no idea existed.

Maybe they will again as Human Crop Circles invades more and more ears but even if that optimistic hope is not realised, punk and noise rock enthusiasts need to have Humans The Size Of Microphones somewhere in their historical landscapes.

Human Crop Circles is out now via SuperFi / De Graanrepubliek and available @ http://superfirecords.bandcamp.com/album/human-crop-circles-lp or https://graanrepubliekrecords.bandcamp.com/album/human-crop-circles

Pete RingMaster 08/04/2016

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Fight Amp – Constantly Off

Pic Freddie Ross

Pic Freddie Ross

Whether they call themselves Fight Amp or Fight Amputation, Philadelphia’s keg of noise rock ferocity have returned with a blistering roar of an album in the shape of Constantly Off. Imposing and at times bordering on carnivorous, the release is the band’s first new recordings in over three years and their heaviest most virulently cantankerous offering yet.

Once more the trio pour grunge tenacity, sludge oppressiveness, and punk predation into their creative vat for the album, twisting and honing it into a tempest of irresistible and rousing noise rock. Equally though Fight Amp has cultivated their most infectious and seductive melodic tempting too. It has resulted in songs which rhythmically stalk, sonically abrase, and melodically romance the senses whilst creating an infestation which as suggested earlier sees the band at a new plateau of invention and sound. Think early Melvins and Torche meets KEN mode with rigorous incitement from the likes of Nirvana, Black Flag, and Dope Body, then think of that being something original again, and you have the addictive might of the Steve Poponi (American Heritage, Ladder Devils) recorded Constantly Off.

Ex Everything sets things in contagious motion, the opener stepping forward in a breeze of portentously predacious sound with the guitar of Mike McGinnis creating sonic smog. A whisper of a relaxation follows before rugged bass and guitar riffs collude with punchy beats in casting a more intensive examination of ears. The vocals of McGinnis and bassist Jon DeHart, whilst being just as imposing, offer a more harmonic temper to the heavy weight of the song, simultaneously sculpting prowling grooves through their individual string craft as hostile as they are magnetic. It is a beast of an encounter, a flirtatious predator which shares its traits with the following Survival Is Strange.

CO_COVER_WEB_Reputation Radio/RingMaster Review The second song is a much more lively and volatile proposal from its first breath. The guitar spins a web of scathing riffs and enticing grooves around vocals which again come with an infectious swing and raw attitude. The contagious essence of the song is emulated just as resourcefully, amidst the resonating lures of bass, in the swinging sticks of drummer Dan Smith too. The encounter is noise addiction for ears and appetite matched quickly after by Leveling In A Dream. Its initial bluesy coaxing is liquor to the senses, a minute plus of suggestive toxicity which eventually spawns a rhythmic and vocal stroll of forthright attitude. Subsequently a reserved but antagonistic wind of sound with rhythmic punches fill ears, the closing minute of the track a bracing bellow which still never catches fire but smoulders perfectly for potent success.

Smith with his rhythmic and rapacious enterprise sets You Don’t Wanna Live Forever rolling next, his jabs increasing in pace and virulence until guitar and bass cannot hold back any longer and jump in with dirty riffs and boozy grooves, which are matched in turn by the raw and catchy variety of the vocals. Agitation and discord add to the captivating revelry, the song a perpetual eruption of off kilter tenacity and bouncing energy, not forgetting ingenuity.

Contrasting the leaping persuasion of its predecessor, I Perceive Reptoids employs another threatening prowl in its proposal. It comes with a post punk shadowing, a solemn toning which continues to cloud the corrosive expulsions of vocal and sonic ire aligned to another riveting and intrusive rhythmic enticement. Once more the song is an incitement bred from colluding contrasts and opposing textures, and again ears and imagination are twisted into subservience.

Final track Happy Joyful Life brings a last tempest to devour greedily. The bass of DeHart is almost bestial in its voice and addictively savage basslines, the beats of Smith rapier like, whilst McGinnis’ guitar breeds a maelstrom of senses tearing hooks and toxic grooves. Together it is a tempestuous and ridiculously infectious affair driven by scowling vocals and just outstanding.

The track makes an absorbing end to an incendiary release on ears and emotions, Constantly Off brewing its own terrain of noise rock which explores all the essences making up its DNA with such imagination that it ensures its appeal will go far beyond one or two specific genres. Quite simply Fight Amp creates irresistible noisy rock ‘n’ roll and in their new offering one of the real treats of 2015.

Constantly Off is available now via Brutal Panda Records digitally and on vinyl @ http://www.brutalpandarecords.com/products/fight-amp-constantly-off-12 or https://fightamp.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/FightAmp   http://www.fightamp.com/

RingMaster 10/06/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Noise-A-Tron – Vast Arcane

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There is a video going around and hitting news stations over strange unearthly noises invading ears and psyche from around the globe. Is it terrestrial bred, alien spawned, or the earth groaning? No one knows but I would suggest the cause just might originate from the practise rooms of US duo Noise-A-Tron, because their new instrumental EP Vast Arcane is a doom spawned confrontation casting similarly portentous and haunting roars of sonic disturbance and apocalyptic seduction. It is also seriously compelling, an irresistible experiment of drone fuelled noise rock which magnificently challenges and ignites everything from ears to imagination.

Noise-A-Tron consists of drummer Jason Bledsoe and his wife Lea on synths and bass. The seeds of the band began with Florida band Bullhead in which Indiana bred Jason played. They released two EPs and in 2000 recruited Michigan born Lea Rudko into the line-up. Previously she had played in experimental noise project Terror Organ, a two piece with Angel Corpse singer/bassist Pete Helmkamp. Early 2002 saw the demise of those bands and the beginning of The Human Echo which went on to release a couple of well-received albums and undertake several tours. In 2005 Jason and Lea married and four years later the end of the band was the springboard for the rising of Noise-A-Tron. The pair released a well-received self-titled EP in 2010, its impacting presence and invention continuing through Vast Arcane in the same heavy imposing way but exploring even darker ravenous realms of sound and emotional menace through an invasive sonic bleeding of noise. It is a ravaging trespass of the senses and emotions but at times equally as anthemic and seductively potent in its enterprise and temptation.

The release opens with Intro, the track as its title suggests setting up the oppressive and suffocating atmosphere of the release but featuring as an individual proposal in its own formidable right too. Keys spin a haunting ambience from its first breath, an emerging spatial atmosphere punctuated by heftily swung beats from Jason. The imagination is swiftly alive with ideas and adventures sparked by the piece, thick sonic bellows and slow laboured roars alone enough bait to dark cinematic flights of fancy.

Vast Arcane cover   Following track Six, all songs consecutively numbered, has a lighter air, well in relation to its predecessor, but one again permeating the senses with creeping shadows of sound and intent. The 8-string bass flirtation from Lea is as transfixing as her skills on keys, a fascinating tangle of textures mixed live whilst mesmerising ears and air with startling invention. The track as the album is contagiously meditative, every sonic yawn and piercing intrusion as hypnotic as it is fearsome, and often equipped with infectious virulence. Even in its caustic and harshly aired finale there is a gripping essence which simply enthrals. Like a sub note to the stark narrative of the track, the brief inescapable lure of Six Point Five takes over next, bass and drums a riotous anthem of epidemic agitation and addictive enterprise. It is a festival compared to the dark climate of the previous sounds but still only offering a menacing tone and enticement at its heart.

Seven slips back into a lumbering gait and intensive examination of noise and listener, though its gaping sonic voice and physical consumption wraps around another lively incitement of rhythms. There is vastness to the piece of sound, though courted by the more intimate touches of drums, an exploration of depths which from the EP artwork hint is celestial but can just as easily be a flight into the unknown depths of earth and sea, or the darkest inescapable nightmares of the mind.

The erosive invasive beauty of the track continues into the epic closer Eight, near on fourteen minutes of rhythmic provocation immersed in a bracing sonic swamp thick in noise and intensity but breath-taking in its ever evolving scenery. As in all tracks, the textures crafted and spun out to startling impact are beautifully layered, each element given a clarity which defies the overall sweltering climate of the increasingly dark and imposing but always seriously giving soundscape.

The quite brilliant Vast Arcane and indeed Noise-A-Tron themselves are not going to be for everyone, the intensity and raw essence of their sound a challenge too far for many, but if any mix of bands like Morkobot, Dope Body, Godflesh, or Sunn O))) sounds like a great appetiser then the Seattle pair have an extraordinary treat in store for you.

Vast Arcane is available now via Bleeding Light Records digitally @ http://bleedinglightrecords.bigcartel.com/product/noise-a-tron-vast-arcane-download and on limited to 250 black vinyl.

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Noise-A-Tron/164982910181009     https://twitter.com/noiseatron

RingMaster 29/04/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Füneral Käb – Self Titled EP

Funeral Kab

A noise fuelled collision with the senses from which only a hunger for more can be the outcome, the self-titled EP from US punk rockers Füneral Käb is one of those treats which no matter the warnings your parents ingrained, you ignore and give your soul to. Unashamedly hostile and cantankerous, enthusiastically abrasing and ravenous, the release as the band’s presence, is a delicious effrontery on senses and common decency. If punk rock with the swagger and devilry of dirty rock ‘n’ roll is your recipe to filth encrusted bliss, then Füneral Käb and their raw and sonically dishevelled release is a must.

Füneral Käb was the inspiration of vocalist Derek Krisitan Nordlof (bassist with Confuzatron and Orange Platypus) who with bassist Mark Vance Arroyo (ex-The Moistboyz) started up the band around 2011. The pair swiftly brought in guitarist/vocalist David Rangel (bassist of Black Earth and guitarist/vocalist of Orange Platypus) next, before after a few drummers completing the line-up with Ben Scott (Vermicous Canids). Most of the band already had connections through their previous exploits at some time or other, a kinship which if we take their debut as evidence, seems to fire up the antagonistic mischief and fury of their sound with relish.

Straight away the EP is crawling over the psyche and stirring up the imagination with opener Church Maus. It coaxes attention with a rugged mix of guitar and bass predation bound in a further sonic lure as beats jab with simple venom. It is a slow crawl of an entrance which is almost leering at its target before exploding into a caustic and fiery rampage of punk riffs and heavy footed provocation guided by an excellent blend of raw vocals from Derek K backed by Rangel. Ridiculously contagious and intimidatingly testing with sharper hooks than found in abattoir, and with a similar blood lust, the track is punk rock at its feverish best, an inescapable toxicity for all genre fans.

The following Christian Sheep is steeped in even richer old school punk animosity and flavouring. It is a sneering blaze of pungent riffs and searing grooves riddled with inhospitable rhythmic provocation, and again another virulent persuasion. There is a definite English punk breeding to the Texan’s sound which is certainly evident on the second song but also loudly whispering in the dirty rock ’ n’ roll song of the next up . . . And Now You’re Shit. Flaming with bluesy enterprise and heavy rock tenacity but equally equipped with punk spawned bait, it is a romantic primal assault to get feet and vocal chords engaged, though just a taster of the bigger anthemic temptation to come with 1717 17th Street. Rolling in on a devilish rhythmic saunter and sonic tempting, the song is soon spewing its melodic acidity around like aural confetti before settling into another impossibly addictive stomp which is as much a rage vocally and sonically as it an epidemic persuasion. Addressing issue of drugs with its title taken from the address of the high school where 15 kids overdosed on a bad batch of heroin, the track is a funked up, hard rock punk shuffle and quite irresistible.

The release closes with the grouchy, dirt smothered HEY Hollywood, a track with a healthy essence of Frankenstein Drag Queens From Planet 13 to its unpolished and infectiously unsavoury beauty. It is a brute of a final track revealing another twist to the varied punk and heavy rock sound the band toys with and twists into their own severe and thrilling trespass on the senses.

Füneral Käb has a sound which embraces the punk ages; it has the unbridled spite of a Sex Pistols or The Adicts, the confrontational hunger of a Suicidal Tendencies or Exploited, and the warped devilry of a Melvins or Dope Body. If any of those tick your boxes or punk at its abrasive best in general, then why are you still here… go explore this great band.

The Füneral Käb EP is available digitally and on 10” vinyl now. Get in touch with teh band to order @ https://www.facebook.com/pages/F%C3%BCneral-K%C3%A4b/221157981243934?sk

RingMaster 11/11/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Dope Body – Lifer

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In covering Natural History, the previous album from US noise sculptors Dope Body, we boldly declared the band as ‘without doubt one of the most exciting bands in music right now’. Returning with its successor Lifer, the Baltimore quartet has done nothing to change or dispel that declaration. The release is a glorious and voracious maelstrom of invention as now expected from the band, but also one with another open twist in the evolution of Dope Body’s sound. Certainly Lifer is the band’s most rock ‘n’ roll release to date, raw and attractively abrasive, but within tracks and sounds are as dramatically eclectic as ever.

Formed in 2008 for originally just a one off show, Dope Body soon saw and found their sound stirring up the local scene and its passions. Early releases via HOSS Records drew potent attention but it was Natural History, released as the new album through Drag City, which widely announced the band as one of the more original and creatively warped fresh breaths in modern music. Between albums the band has feverishly toured and played shows before seeing the latter part of last year out taking time focussing on other endeavours, bassist John Jones on his solo project Nerftoss and guitarist Zachary Utz and drummer David Jacober with their two piece band Holy Ghost Party, whilst vocalist Andrew Laumann turned to his visual arts side and exhibited work at the Galerie Jeanrochdard in Paris, the Pre Teen Gallery in Mexico City, and Signal in Brooklyn. This year though soon saw the foursome back together in the studio and with producer Travis Harrison creating what is another stirring encounter from them.

The album opens with Intro, an instrumental with carnival-esque vivacity and mischief to the gripping rhythmic juggling of Jacober and scuzz bred tenacity of guitar. It is a great raucous start to the album, instantly unveiling some of the varied rock ‘n’ roll seeded essences to be explored across the release. The piece subsequently slips seamlessly into Repo Man and its opening slow caress and shadowed crawl. Right away the distinct tones of Laumann entice and flirt with ears before raging to match the increased intensity and aggression of the music. It is a captivating track which has as much an air of Nirvana to it as it does The Stooges. In hindsight it is a steady opener to the album in many ways, a raw encounter which as the album, holds a real live feel to its touch and breath, but proves to be just a taster of greater things to come.

That stronger potency grips ears and imagination right away with Hired Gun. From a deliciously acidic web of sonic revelry, the song strides out with a garage punk energy and causticity, though it is still prone to the great scythes of sound liferwhich opened up the encounter. Taunting senses with a devilish swagger and punkish rabidity, the track is a transfixing slice of noise rock, but as expected from the band only part of the story as seductive surf rock sultriness and rhythmic tantalising emerges before a fiery finale. From this song the album really takes unpredictable and diverse shape, the following Echo sauntering through ears with a smouldering blues climate aligned to garage punk turbulence. Like Tom Petty plays The Cramps, the song is an enthralling croon with tendencies to expel caustic ferocity as it makes another step up towards the album’s highest peaks.

They come in the next clutch of songs, starting with AOL. A brawling slab of blazing hard and punk rock incitement, whispers of The Clash and Melvins hinting away, the track comes loaded with lingering grooves and biting hooks for a relatively brief but scintillating roar. It sets ears and emotions up perfectly for the even richer triumph of Rare Air. A song which kind of bridges this and the last album, it emerges from a metronomic coaxing lined with a ridiculously infectious sonic tempting. Instantly there is a post punk emprise to the song, bass and guitars flirting with a mix of Joy Division, Tones On Tails, and John Foxx led Ultravox breeding. It is a gripping adventure with Laumann as vocally enterprising as the tapestry of sounds and textures around him. The pinnacle of the album, the song alone reasserts Dope Body as the imaginative masters of sonic and noise alchemy.

Straight away confirming that point, the dark seductive Day by Day steps forward next. With a heavily shadowed bass resonance spotted by sonic elegance making the first gentle touch, the track forcibly intrigues and entices senses and imagination, increasing its lure and potency as it gathers pace to craft a Bauhaus like tension and presence. That increase in energy also brings a funky gait and appetite to the song, which in turn leads to squalling clouds of scuzz lined ferocity and garage rock devilry. With a pinch of psychobilly and a dab of old school rock ‘n’ roll too, the song takes the listener through scenery of explosive invention and bold creative mischief, all persistently cored by the irresistible throaty bassline which kicked it all off.

Toy strides purposefully across ears next to return the album to another boiling garage punk/grunge soiled stomp, engaging ears in a dusty rampage of Rocket From The Crypt meets Damn Vandals like irreverence. As everywhere though, references only give a slight idea of something uniquely Dope Body, the band forging new templates and imagination smothering ingenuity at every turn, proof of course immediately coming forward through the pair of Nu Sensation and I’d Say to You . The first of the two is another multi-flavoured rocker, seemingly embracing every corner and era of rock ‘n’ roll to give birth to an uncompromising and inescapably addictive rock devilry, whilst its successor is a torrent of repetitive hooks and lingering grooves as catchy as the common cold and sneakily lingering.

The album is closed by the striking Even In the End, a song opening on another skilfully conjured rhythmic contagion before spreading its melodic and atmospheric tendrils into a progressive terrain of bracing sonic invention and immersive dark shadows. Within that landscape though, guitars and beats unleash imaginative and lively agitation whilst vocals range from slow drawls to raging emotion. It is an absorbing exploration bringing the outstanding release to a mighty close.

Lifer is not a step forward in quality for Dope Body but a side step from Natural History into similarly impressive and individual waters. The excitement brought by a Dope Body encounter continues and the band grows in stature once more.

Lifer is available via Drag City now.

https://www.facebook.com/pages/DOPE-BODY/310914069790

RingMaster 23/10/2014

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Fossils – Flesh Hammer

 

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     Having been only a few reviews ago talking and enthusing about carnal provocations comprising of just bass and drums with the Atacama Death Experience album Wasted Time And Broken Bones under focus, we now have another impressive similarly sculpted offering to thrill and ignite the passions, possibly the most masterful yet. This time it is Danish duo Fossils with second album Flesh Hammer, a rigorously incendiary and compelling uncaging which again proves you do not need guitars and keys, and in their case also vocals, to send the imagination and passions on an intrusively invigorating and breath-taking inspiring ride. A caustically instrumental noise/rock ravaging of the senses, the ten track scourge of invention and craft, not forgetting violent seduction, is a magnetic tempest which through relatively brief scythes of noise driven ingenuity leaves no inch of the body, mind, and emotions Fossils free. The second release on new Danish independent record label, Indisciplinarian, Flesh Hammer is simply one of the early major pinnacles of the year.

     Consisting of Simon Tornby and Per Silkjær, bass and drums respectively, Fossils’ brew of sound with seeds bred from punk and metal has drawn strong attention and acclaim already through their previous releases, debut album Meat Rush in 2012 and live album The Veal Thing last year. Performances with the likes of Zu, Liturgy, Death Crush, ICEAGE, Dope Body, Thulebasen, Queers and many more as well as tours across the US, Germany, Sweden and their homeland have equally impressed and reinforced the emergence of this unique band. Released digitally and on vinyl worldwide, Flesh Hammer is a new hefty stage for the band to persuade upon, something they do with sublime voraciousness and ease.

   The first shard of lethal seduction comes through Carnivore Arrest, a title perfect for song and release. Thrusts of raucous a0613610799_2bass noise strikes the air first punctuated by drum punches before the track settles into an immediately potent stride of bass grooving which reminds of Gang of Four with hypnotic feet inciting beats. Explosive rubs of expressive predatory noise continue to interrupt the swagger of the song whilst little teases of finger sculpted dark lures and bolder abrasive intensity entice the senses in to compelling effect, before they combine to forge a ferocious brawl a of delicious noise driven causticity.

    It is a tremendous start instantly matched by both Critical Mass and Pelvis Crust, the first a virulent epidemic of rhythmic seduction and vivaciously hungry riffing, grooves a twisted blaze of toxicity entwining around and through the primal core of the song. There is a deeper darkness to the track, an intimidation and predation which builds across its initial persuasion before climaxing in an antagonistic furnace of energy and craft. Its successor is equally as vindictive in its intent just going straight for the jugular from its first breath. There is an almost acrid edge to the grooves and sonic adventure too which breeds from the mastery of Tornby whilst rhythmically Silkjær’s scythes splinters bits of cartilage from the ears with every swipe. A more straightforward heavy rock tsunami than the previous more unpredictable and deliberately testing tracks, it is no less uncompromising or magnetic.

     Lard Obstacle steps up next to leave another blaze of noise alchemy ringing around ears and emotions, its rapacious throat and appetite an unrelenting preying on the psyche until it secures submission and then rewards with a slender but entrapping maze of invention and solicitously grooved coaxing. The track lures you in and seduces like it wants your soul, which as it climbs to its ruinous finale it is given without regret. The following Cat Stalker is no less a dramatic protagonist and insatiable conjuror of malevolently creative rhythmic webs and animalistically toned riffery, its short abrasing of the senses full and irresistible.

    The broader distortion glazed suasion of Filet Horizon brings a nastier severity to the storm though again the pair of antagonists are happy to weave in some undiluted addiction sparking assets in their rhythmic and sonic minimalistic glory. The groundwork set by the song is taken to new exhaustive heights through firstly Stun, the track an iron cast wall of raw endeavour which like the Red Sea splits for a brief moment to embrace further singular but as potently enthralling and arguably psychotic strands of deliciously poisonous imagination.

    The final trio of tracks bringing the album to a powerful end starting with the exceptional Spamtastic, a sinew sculpted waltz of intoxicating adventure and magnetism. It’s masterful trap is similarly matched by the thick intensity powered Flesh Pillar, its oppressive swamp of sound and energy insatiable in hunger and presence, whilst final song Crack Horse simply welcomes all the wounds and submissive compliance offered the album to date and chews them up all over again with a torrential cyclone of rhythms and scathing bass magnificence. It is a stunning conclusion to a quite brilliant album. Flesh Hammer is simply exceptional and though it is easy to imagine there might be a surface similarity to essences of tracks which the lazy and impatient might pull at, beneath there is undoubtedly an irresistible world of ingenuity to devour. Fossils have created a slice of noise alchemy, a destined poll header come December.

http://www.meatrush.com/

http://fossilsmusic.bandcamp.com/

10/10

RingMaster 03/03/2014

 Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Them Wolves – German For Duke EP

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Sounding like the softer spoken cousin of Coilguns, though with the same rapacious dissonance, and employing the snarling provocation of a Bishop and the turbulent fire of The Locust strapped to the abrasive beauty of The Jesus Lizard, UK noise rock disruptors Them Wolves make their debut with an EP which is as furious as it is compelling and as sonically destructive as it is caustically seductive. Five tracks of corrosive distrust and clangorous temptation, the German For Duke EP is a delicious cacophonous brawl created with a craft and imagination only those of unique synaptic disorientation could conjure.

Hailing from Birmingham, the trio of Greg Coates, Stuart-Lee Tovey, and Noel Campbell is another impressive encounter to emerge from a rising Midlands scene, a band carving out a startling individual presence within this wind of blossoming enterprise and now preparing to recruit more passions from prospective loyal fans with their first release as it sends twisted aural shapes into a waiting wider national awareness. The band has earned a strong reputation from their live storms which have seen them intimidate stages with the likes of Fucked Up, Trash Talk, Dope Body, Blacklisters, and Bats, but German For Duke as it manipulates and blasts the senses feels like the key to much more.

As soon as opening stings of guitar sonics accompanied by coarse riffs, subsequently joined by even more caustic vocals, brings The Wild Girl of Champagne into view senses and thoughts are ripped from their slumber. The track soon becomes a scything swipe of noise as rhythms tips the balance of intimidation into the favour of predation and the guitars cut through the air with acidic Errol Flynn like sabre swishes of noise. It is a magnetic tempest which draws out the passions with ease and ignites them further as it turns in on itself with a relatively peaceful aside, a kind of lull where bitchy riffs from both sets of stringed conspirators offer a Stinking Lizaveta captivation spiked by the Fall like rhythm and vocal punctuation. Raising to another crescendo it is a riveting blaze of punishing discord and frantic fascination, a potent blaze to mark the introduction of the band and EP that is unafraid to test and complicate things further with a sludgy breath of invention before one final riot of sound.

The following Folding a Napkin on Terminal Island, is of the same breeding seed, the song another crusading squall of synapse mining rhythmic provocation within a scorching shower of sonic industry crafted into an evocative narrative, an aural tale that scrapes and sears its leaden hues deeply into senses and thoughts whilst teasing the passions with enticing venomous grooves. The track is a brief yet contagiously busy piece of confrontation, guitars and rhythms enslaving with their respective serpentine seduction and muscular animosity.

Let’s You and Him Fight takes its time to impose its lethal toxins, beckoning in the listener at first with a Gang Of Four like weave before expanding it into a melodically washed maze of invention and rhythmic chastisement led by the again ear abrasing vocals. Complete with a dip of scuzz and vitriol, the track pushes release and band into another street rife with distinct and unique essences set to a canvas of brain frying intensity. Cutting and emotive, though always under the rein of concussive intent, the song leaves exhaustion and bliss in its place, as well as a lingering and disorientated rapture for the alignment of infection fuelled grooves and an almost funky underbelly to a raptorial stalking, the bass its most carnivorous sounding yet.

Once You’re More Like a Young Mary Bell staggers into the ear with staccato beats and pestilential riffing, the battle becomes even more deliciously intensive, the band fusing air and heat into a swamp of noise that eats away at the listener and chews their brain with a bestial suffocation of ruinous intent. A doom/sludge like intensity takes the track into its menacing finale though still sparking with schizophrenic imagination and a ravenous noise fuelled craft.

Final track Wolf Song preys on fears and the wounds already induced by the EP, guitars stalking with sonic saliva dripping from every note expelled and vocals a raucous chafing stealing any free emotion and breath for their own inciting ends. With the bass finding another depth to its gnarled throat, the track is a towering sinister embrace of mordancy wrapped in the beauty of noise. It is a triumphant end to an equally impressive release, the Distorted Tapes / It’s Just Noise released German For Duke the kind of raw animal you do not want to meet at night and Them Wolves its pack leader with no wish to leave you safe or unblemished. It is the entrance of a masterful sonic annoyance which will only get better and more stunning.

http://www.themwolves.co.uk

9/10

RingMaster 10/08/2013

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