Voice Of Addiction – The Lost Art of Empathy

This started out as a piece on one track from their new album, an introduction for us sent by Voice Of Addiction which was so persuasive the whole album had to instead be the focus of attention. A multi-flavoured punk rock roar from the Chicago based band, The Lost Art of Empathy is one rousing confrontation which has the body bouncing and spirit leaping with its boisterous escapades from start to finish.

Becoming a potent part of the Chicago punk scene through their explosive live shows, Voice Of Addiction have been stirring up ears and venues since 2004, with a handful of releases and a host of compilation appearances marking their way. At their centre is vocalist/bassist Ian “JohnnyX “ Tomele joined upon the latest Voice Of Addiction stomp by drummer Dennis Tynan, guitarist/backing vocalist Jake Smith, and backing vocalist Luke Ostojic. Listening to the treat that is The Lost Art of Empathy, it seems impossible that the band is not a more widely recognised proposition within the global punk scene; a prospect their new album just might trigger.

With politically and socially challenging lyrics matched by a sound which bites however it comes across it’s twelve tracks, The Lost Art of Empathy opens up with that first song heard here. Rustbelt instantly coaxes ears with a spicy hook which is soon joined by a grouchy bassline and jabbing beats. Together they surge at the senses, developing an infectious urgency as Tomele’s vocals with equally potent backing swiftly capture the imagination. In no time the romp is igniting ears and appetite, its drive towards one irresistible chorus just as manipulative as everything from hardcore, pop and classic punk seems to get involved.

The following Dead By Dawn has a rawer manner in tone and touch but is equally as contagious with athletic beats and the grumbling bass shaping the assault from within which a collage of vocals and the clang of guitar entice. Smith spins a web of sonic endeavour as unpredictable as his riffs are rabid before Unity brings its own belligerent defiance to the party. Tomele’s bass again whips up the appetite, its magnetic prowess matched by another potent mix of vocals across the band.

Petty Schemes swaggers in next with a knowing mischief before bounding into a snarling and keenly eventful melodic punk blaze while the soulful Corporate Pariah evolves into a ska punk canter before which feet and hips are leaping as thoughts are provoked by the tracks incisive words. Both songs hit the spot, the second especially persuasive before Lockwood uncages its sonic spiral and subsequent punk contagion to eclipse both. Across the album bands such as NOFX, Bad Religion, and Angelic Upstarts come to mind, this track especially hinting but there is no denying that Voice Of Addiction embrace all into their own individual furor.

The street punk fuelled I Can’t Breathe invitingly brawls with the listener next, the band merging US and seventies UK punk for its tenacious attack and triumph; a success matched by the visceral punk holler of Everything Must Go. It too is a collusion of styles within the punk banner; alternative and math rock flirting with hardcore tendencies to enthral and arouse.

Through the caustic yet melodically hued tear up of Ad Nauseum and the equally uncompromising and enticing Eviction Notice, the album continues to grip attention even if the songs do not hit the same level as those before them; a plateau Alcorn Queen definitely flirts with straight after with its Mars Volta meets Converge like adventure and animosity. The track is superb, stealing best track honours at the death though there is still time for the acoustic brilliance of Are We Even Human Anymore to shine with Tomele vocally luring ears like moths to a flame.

The Lost Art of Empathy is a moment in time not to be missed; indeed all punks should make it their cause to share its compelling sound as too the presence of Voice Of Addiction. America is catching on, now it is our turn around the world.

The Lost Art of Empathy is available now @ https://voiceofaddiction.bandcamp.com/album/the-lost-art-of-empathy-2

https://voiceofaddiction.com/    https://www.facebook.com/voarockers/    https://twitter.com/VoArockers

Pete RingMaster 09/08/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Dead Cross- Self Titled

Pic SAWA

As the world seemingly surges rather than drifts into bedlam it is maybe not surprising that a sound is rising to echo it’s chaotic and discord fuelled order. It resonates from the creative union within Dead Cross, a project said to have emerged “out of a series of impractical schemes, fallen-through plans, and last-minute musical experimentation.” Featuring the combined acclaimed talent and creative ingenuity of Dave Lombardo (ex-Slayer, Suicidal Tendencies, Misfits), Mike Patton (Faith No More, Tomahawk, Mr. Bungle, Fantômas….), Justin Pearson (The Locust, Retox), and Michael Crain (Retox, Festival of Dead Deer), Dead Cross has just released their self-titled debut album; a deviously manipulative and skilfully conjured tempest of noise and intent, simply manic manna for the senses and imagination.

There really is no need to provide background to the members of Dead Cross, each individually and within a mass of bands having set down incitements and inspirations so many have fed upon and blossomed their own ventures with. So it is straight to the first breath of the foursome’s first release we go and the initial sonic mist of Seizure and Desist. From its midst surging raw riffs and rampaging rhythms burst, their assault soon joined by the distinctive and ever rapaciously mercurial vocals of Patton. Just as recognisable are the dynamically imaginative and textile swings of Lombardo; his anthemically biting incitement entangled in the sonic rapacity of Crain and the grumbling bestial tones of Pearson’s bass. A senses crumbling assault of hardcore, he track is as multi-flavoured as it is uncompromisingly furious and a hint of the developing web of noise and varied rock ‘n’ roll infesting the punk heart of the release.

The following Idiopathic even further harries and bullies the senses, its rhythms fuelling a barbarous catchiness which spreads to the united vocal attack and raw tone and causticity of the outstanding track. Unpredictability is as rampant as animosity, mischievous craft and fun equally as bold within the senses ravishing, body inciting maelstrom. Every passing second brings a fresh breath of bold and devilish adventure, the track a dancing predator by the time it makes way for the waspish nagging and unrelenting beating of Obedience School. It is glorious stuff, barbarous and harmonically bewitching leaving a tapestry of punk, alternative metal, and gothic rock suggestion.

Shillelagh is simply punk rock yet hardcore unafraid to embrace the spices of other pungent flavours to its infectious animus; the result a venomous contagion which has the body bouncing and appetite drooling before the imagination is enslaved all over again by a riveting cover of the Bauhaus classic Bela Lugosi’s Dead. Infesting it with the kind of energy and boisterousness felt at the Batcave venue back in the day, Dead Cross ensure the shadows and haunting atmosphere of the original are still an invasive temptation; Crain casting veins of melodic acidity which alone beguiles the senses.

The caustic invasion of Divine Filth hits the spot dead centre right after too, Patton and co vocally swinging from imagination’s rafters as the music around them throws itself around like an imaginatively manic dervish, again every passing second bringing new twists and expectations destroying adventure. Grave Slave is equally as tenacious in tone and intent, the Suicidal Tendencies exploits of Lombardo seemingly inspiring the whole of Dead Cross as they funk out with raw intensity and rancorous resourcefulness whilst equally embracing a Melvins meets early Therapy? like friction. It is a highly addictive proposal within an album similarly growing drug like in its temptation.

The persistent creative harassment of The Future Has Been Cancelled matches the lure and entrapment of its predecessor with its own individual and increasingly ravenous quicksand of sound and invention, at one point sinking into a quagmire of heavy seduction before bursting out with its instinctive rabid virulence of energy and sound to head towards the waiting heavy set jaws of Gag Reflex. It too meanders and dashes through a landscape of evolving gaits and twisted manhandling of the listener; each turn increasing its magnetism and our subservience to its manipulation.

The industrially lined shadows of Church of the Motherfuckers brings the album to a mighty conclusion, the track lumbering along with a primal swagger as resonating beauty glistens in its atmosphere. On the ground irritability guides the tempestuous exploits of the track, its climate remaining relatively clam but around a volatile heart which beats with combustibility. Through it all Lombardo springs a rhythmic trap which enslaves body and spirit, his creative mastery the last word in persuasion as the album comes to a thrilling close.

The tag super-group is bound to accompany many references to Dead Cross but ignore them. The band is a real and potent new force in its own right, yes embracing the previous experiences and exploits of its creators but offering something very different and exciting to rival and outshine most hardcore/punk noise exploits around them.

The Dead Cross album is out now via Ipecac Recordings through most stores.

https://www.facebook.com/deadcrossofficial/

Pete RingMaster 08/08/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

The Domestics – Cherry Blossom Life

The Domestics - Cherry Blossom Life - MPF2 (Charlee Ramsey- PNMT)_RingMasterReview

Pic Charlee Ramsey

A predator of the senses and the injustices infesting the world today, the hardcore furious sound of The Domestics has grown into one of the most riveting and compelling assaults within the British punk scene since the Suffolk outfit launched itself at apathetic barricades in 2011. Across two albums surrounded by a host of EPs, split releases, and compilation appearances, the band’s fusion of US hardcore, classic UK punk and raw Japanese influences has grabbed attention by the scruff of the neck. It’s ‘victims’ have been confronted with uncompromising lyrical commentary as a primal catchiness infects body and imagination. That being said, everything before has now been overshadowed and taken to a new level by third album Cherry Blossom Life, a release as viciously virulent as it is rapaciously antagonistic.

With The Domestics slimmed down to a quartet since the release of 2014 album Routine & Ritual, the band has equally stripped down their sound to simultaneously bring out and increase its venomous irritability and instinctive contagiousness. Its twenty minutes unleashes 16 tracks to challenge and stir up body and thought; a brief rewarding moment in a day which is proving to be almost as essential as eating and Cherry Blossom Life takes no prisoners from the first breath of opener Dead in the Dirt. The gnarly bass of Rhodes instantly has the appetite licking lips; its dirty grumble wrapped in a lurking sonic twine which blossoms into its own unclean temptation as the band uncages a tide of ravenous riffs ridden by the vocal animus of James Domestic. The senses and emotions are instantly on edge and the body roused as the album gets down to business in fine style.

The following Snuffed Out zooms in like a jet plane, the bolds beats of Simon Battery instinctive incitement as Ted Mint’s guitar spins a savage web around the equally catchy and pugnacious assault of voice and bass. Addictively inhospitable, the track’s imposing triumph is swiftly matched by that of Don’t Tell Me What Love Is, itself also less than a minute of unapologetic scrapping equipped with primal hooks and memorable causticity. The gang vocal bruising of Homegrown Violence proceeds to emulate and eclipse that gripping pair though, its brute force a deceit to skilfully spun hooks and infectious sonic tendrils.

cover_RingMasterReviewInitially, No Deposit, No Return allows a breath with its prowling entrance, the bass portentously courting the imagination before sparking a swinging canter which in turn bursts into a hellacious dispute of sound and voice. Unpredictable at every turn and adventurous with every twist, discord and animosity a superb combative mix, the song is irresistible before making way for the bare boned poetry of Human Ikizukuri; its visceral touch absorbed by the following sonic and lyrical rancor of Punch in the Guts.

Through the anthemic vendetta of Authentic Arsehole and the unbridled senses harrying tempest of Frustration, album and pleasure make kindred spirits while Guilty as Charged twists and turns with some of the most infectious hooks and inspired antics heard anywhere this year. Maybe its boldness is not pushed far enough, its fifty odd seconds not allowing time for further adventure, but the track leaves an indelible mark on ears and imagination.

Self Abuse scowls and feuds with the listener next, a richly satisfying assault with the creative dexterity of Mint and the feuding prowess of Domestic guiding the inescapable persuasion with Death Trap pushing pleasure to yet another level with its bearish bad blood and predacious stroll. Like a mix of Dead Kennedys, Angelic Upstarts, and Converge, the song simple hits the spot, its tenacious jaws a quick clamp on the passions. Its best track claim is then straight away rivalled by Bullshit Parasite, a bullish, balls swinging anthem impossible not to get physically and emotionally enrolled in.

There is no let up on enjoyment either as the home straight of Cherry Blossom Life is hit; A Poison Too Far a breath-taking ferocious declaration of sound and word harassing the senses and Stalinist Purge a corrosive squall of emotion and sound blustering around another glorious crunchy bassline and the creative agitation of the guitar.

The album finally closes with Happy, a piece of lyrical prose caught in a shaken snow globe of organic sound, and the only following thought is to throw oneself into its clutches straight away again. From word to music, Cherry Blossom Life is UK hardcore and The Domestics at their best, indeed the band at their finest yet.

Cherry Blossom Life is out now through TNS Records and Kangaroo Records; available @ https://tnsrecords.bandcamp.com/album/cherry-blossom-life   https://www.tnsrecords.co.uk/?product=domestics-cherry-blossom-life  and http://www.kibourecords.bigcartel.com/

2017 EURO TOUR DATES:

27/08: T. Chances, London, UK (Fuk Reddin Fest)

28/08: Vrankrijk, Amsterdam (Netherlands)

29/08: Tbc

30/08: Underwerkt, Copenhagen (Denmark)

31/08: Blitz, Oslo (Norway)

01/08: Snövit, Stockholm (Sweden)

02/08: Venue Tbc, Gothenburg (Sweden)

04/08: Tbc

05/08: Köpi, Berlin (Germany)

06/08: Stö, Leipzig (Germany)

07/08: The Pit’s, Kortrijk (Belgium)

https://www.facebook.com/TheDomestics/

Pete RingMaster 08/08/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Bloodclot – Up in Arms

Pic Rick Rodney

Bringing together the highly recognised talent of certain individuals from various acclaimed bands does not always guarantee something special but in the case of Bloodclot, it feels a given such the instinctive union between its collective. The band is the coming together of Cro-Mags vocalist John Joseph, former Danzig and Murphy’s Law guitarist Todd Youth, drummer Joey Castillo formerly of Queens of the Stone Age, Danzig, and Eagles of Death Metal, and Mondo Generator frontman and ex- Queens of the Stone Age, Kyuss bassist Nick Oliveri. Together they confirm that given with debut album Up in Arms, a physical and lyrical roar of hardcore defiance.

Unleashing twelve ravenous slices of punk rock with more inescapable hooks than found in Leatherface’s pantry, all fuelled by raw irritability at the state of the world today, Up in Arms is a crowd uniting battle cry. It fuses familiar essences with the fresh appetite and invention of a quartet seemingly destined to come together at some point. Everything about it is as organic as it is rabid, as challenging as it is rousing; taking no prisoners but rewarding those who it devours time and time again.

The album’s title track crashes in on the listener first, springing from an invasive sonic mist with a slavery of guitar and rhythmic predation as Joseph pokes and stirs the senses with voice and word. Castillo’s beats are rapier sharp and imposing, Oliveri’s bass carries an infectious brooding whilst Youth’s riffs and hooks ensnare across four eventful minutes.

It is an ear gripping, appetite inflaming beginning which only kicks up a gear with the following Fire, a belligerent brawl of punk ‘n’ roll instantly chaining ears with a  virulent hook as rhythms jab and incite. If the Angelic Upstarts was merged with Sick Of It All, this could be their anthem while Manic infuses an even greater physical psychosis and unforgiving attitude to the torrential gait of its predecessor in its own addictive multi-flavoured rumble.

Through the sonic call to arms scourge of Kill the Beast and the Dead Kennedys scented Prayer, new twists of sound and invention force themselves through ears, each with a virulent strain of spiky hooks and body twisting grooves, while their successor has things bouncing like a dervish. Siva / Rudra is a contagion of enterprise as cantankerous as it is exotically seductive marked, as all three, by Oliveri springing basslines as funky as they are carnal. Alongside, Youth’s riffs and grooves come as primal as they are compelling whilst Joseph squeezes every ounce of uncompromising adventure and emotional incitement out of tone and syllable.

Soldiers of the New Babylon locks metal and punk together in its prickly vent, a testy proposition woven with nagging riffs and a magnetically throbbing bassline before Kali throws all those attributes into an insatiable maelstrom of punk rock temptation, taking best track honours along the way. Barely seeing the one minute mark, the track is irresistible but swiftly rivalled by the crabby assault of Slow Kill Genocide, the catchiness moment within Up in Arms and arguably the most choleric.

Pure punk rock truculence shapes the breath-sapping antics of the following Slipping into Darkness, Oliveri spawning his most addictive moment within the album bound in the searing flames of Youth’s guitar as vocals and beats vent their animosity with Life as One backing up its triumph with its mercurial but always commandingly imposing tapestry of quarrel and imagination.

The album is closed by You’ll Be the Death of Me, a slab of rock ‘n’ roll taking big chunks out of the senses as it excites with its Lard-esque espionage. Addiction has never been more vicious and seductive within three and a half minutes, certainly in recent times, as that spawned by the outstanding finale to one of the year’s biggest treats so far.

Produced by Zeuss (Hatebreed, Revocation) and mixed by Kyle McAulay at NRG, Up in Arms transcends being just a great release from another so called ‘super group’, it has given hardcore a fresh new breath and snarl which we can only hope is the first of many gales from Bloodclot.

Up in Arms is out now on Metal Blade Records across most stores and @ https://bloodclot.bandcamp.com/album/up-in-arms

https://www.facebook.com/bloodclotofficial/   https://www.instagram.com/Bloodclot2016/

Pete RingMaster 26/07/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Eat Dirt – Self Titled EP

Punk rock has lost much of the anger it first set sail with back in ’77; certainly it is not as audible or open with modern bands seemingly worried more about, dare we say,  accomplished traits in their sound than their inspiring and rousing ire driven counterparts of yesteryear. One exception though is ‘Pissed Off Punk Rock Collective’ Eat Dirt, an outfit which has unleashed one of the irritable treats of the year in the shape of a self-titled debut EP. It is raw and uncompromising, belligerent and angry offering bringing a quartet of raging roars which yes are also skilfully crafted.

Forming in late 2016, Eat Dirt is the coming together of members of previously of well-established UK acts, putting “their frustrations with real life together.” From within its mysterious ranks, one of the band has admitted, “I’d given up on music. I wasn’t really angry enough. I had nothing to sing about anymore. Then the whole Brexit thing happened. I’m mad at people. I’m mad at the world around me. As a group, we need to vent. EAT DIRT is that release.

With inspirations drawn from the likes of The Bronx, Every Time I Die, Gallows, and Comeback Kid, Eat Dirt get right down to business with the EP’s thirty odd seconds title track. Instantly a wall of riffs and rhythms descend on ears, vocal scowling in their tow before a raucous stroll is in place. The unrelenting caustic attack is tempered by mellower backing vocals, their child nurtured ganging up as infectious as the brief but still eventful, hook lined proposal.

The great start is matched by the antagonistic prowl of Pigs. A call to arms littered with its own irresistible punk hooks, many old school bred, the track snarls and vents within an equally rousing web of guitars and rhythmic incitement. There are no frills, no unnecessary detours, just raging rock ‘n’ roll making its forceful point but with the imagination to leave ears hooked and spirits aroused.

48. follows swiftly after, the song badgering fifty seconds of fury and furious hardcore punk rock like a mix of Angelic Upstarts and Sick Of It All to again ignite the instincts and passions before Dead brings it all to a close with its contagious escapade. Almost flirtatious in comparison to its companions, the track has an anthemic catchiness and vocalised swing further continued in its hooks and swagger. There is no escaping bouncing bodies and swerving hips breaking out to its roar or a rising irritability with life alongside its own biting incite.

The track is a glorious end to a release which has the passions for not only punk rock but music itself alive and ready to snarl. The Eat Dirt EP is a defiance driven punk fuelled treat which we truly hope is just the first of many from its creators.

The Eat Dirt EP is available now as a free download @ https://eatdirtuk.bandcamp.com/releases

https://www.facebook.com/eatdirtpunk/

Pete RingMaster 11/07/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Three Way Plane – Your Kingdom, My Life

Way back in 2013, Greek outfit Three Way Plane got in touch and introduced us to themselves and their new EP Fire. It was a potential loaded indie/post punk infused proposition which was bitingly eclectic and imaginatively rampant suggesting that the 2004 formed band was ready to tap into attention far beyond their local success. They have not quite found that breakthrough since in a period which was assumedly busy for them but appearing quiet on the outside. Things might just be about to change though as the Athens outfit release their second album Your Kingdom, My Life and another collusion of sonic diversity and creative adventure.

Two years after forming the band released their first EP, Bright Days the first clue to the growing invention in their punk nurtured sound though it was their well-received debut album, give us something new to shout, which really stoked attention and eager support four years later; its success subsequently eclipsed by Fire. 2015 saw the band release a collection of remixes from songs out of their previous two offerings and the striking 7″inch single A Waltz For Unity & Love / New Destination. In hindsight, the latter was a definite tease of the new growth in sound and songwriting of vocalist/guitarist Stratos, bassist Giannis, and drummer Geo, who has left the band since the album’s recording; hints now impressively realised in Your Kingdom, My Life.

In some ways, the Three Way Plane sound has actually slimmed down its rich array of textures and flavours into something less overwhelming but more concentrated on its qualities, a sign of maturity easy to embrace. As opener Inner Warfare shows though it is still a web of styles and imagination which leaves predictability looking elsewhere for a home. The track initially waves a sonic lure in front of the listener, the guitar almost taunting before a couple more breaths sees rhythms strolling through ears with a knowing swagger as riffs sculpt their dance.  That first slither of post punk bait returns to tempt as the song slows a touch to welcome the expression shaped vocals of Stratos. Simultaneously Giannis’ bass grumbles with a throaty growl, riffs again casting an eager scrubbing of the senses as Geo’s beats tenaciously swing at a body and imagination swiftly hooked by the song’s mix of indie rock and punk at times reminding of UK band Houdini.

It is a superb start soon matched by the more crazed and caustic exploits of No, I’m Not Sober. Again the bass is an irresistible lure, showing more mischief than attitude this time, a matching hue directing riffs and vocals as the track swings between revelry and hostility. There is a definite feel of The Cure and their Three Imaginary Boys entrance upon the world, an additional off-kilter and magnetic discordance in tone and touch which lights ears and personal instincts. With the guest manipulation of Kostis Maloutas on the Theremin extra pleasure, the track eventually makes way for the matching excellence of A Waltz For Unity & Love. Straight away guitars entice ears, courting attention with their weave of wiry hooks and flirtatious melodies. Darker hues come into play soon after as the track hits its vigorous stride as vocals share lyrical suggestion though it is the snare of flirtatious hooks and energy which rubber stamps an already done deal between song and pleasure.

Guitars and bass again make the first flirtation with ears as Get Off Your Hands steps forward, its more shadowy nature and physical trespasses infested with fiery melodies and infectious rhythms which respectively wind through and steer the enjoyable ship. There is that post punk essence again at play but more vocal within the following Xepiasakos Theme, an instrumental cruising in on a great Gang Of Four like dexterity in its rhythmic prowess which immediately has body and spirit dancing. The piece is a touch more reserved than its predecessors but a livelier persistence impossible to refuse or let physical reactions leave alone. Musically the song also reminds of eighties bands like Leitmotiv and French outfit Modèle Martial, an array of essences cast into a sonic Three Way Plane kaleidoscope which certainly has a great spicing of nostalgia.

With a similar eighties spicing to its seduction of catchiness and challenges, Checkmate is simply infection from start to finish; guitar hooks and brooding bass lures a devious incitement infesting limb and imagination with viral expertise while the following Silent embraces the senses in a more atmospheric wash of sound though it too does not skimp on addictive snares and seriously catchy twists. That raw ethereal climate solely takes over midway though, a sonic drifting across the imagination with an underlying tempestuousness which grows as shadows blossom. Once more The Cure come to minds at certain moments, the song more reflective of their second and third album period while again creating a proposal individual to the Greek outfit.

The more caustic and volatile essences of other songs has its head for Your Life ’08, the track an abrasive slice of hardcore shaped punk but with a rhythmic agitation and tenacity which ensures an infectious bullying of ears and lively thoughts is welcomed.

The album closes with Psychic Changes, a rich trespass of vocal dissent and sonic intrigue spun with a tide of gripping hooks and predacious rhythms into a melodic labyrinth growing darker and more ravenous with every layer spun. As the previous track, it is more of a challenge than earlier propositions, more of a slow burner but ultimately emerges as one of the most striking quests from the imagination and craft of Three Way Plane.

There are times when the body really feels like a puppet to Your Kingdom, My Life, unable to escape its infection carrying incitements, and never a moment when pleasure is not the fuel of the day. Whether the album will see Three Way Plane break into international attention time will tell, it has all the attributes, but it will certainly establish the band as one of most exciting adventures waiting their moment.

Your Kingdom, My Life is out now and available @ https://threewayplane.bandcamp.com/album/your-kingdom-my-life

https://www.facebook.com/threewayplane/    https://twitter.com/threewayplane

Pete RingMaster 31/05/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Moments – Outlast EP

With potential as vocal and uncompromising as their snarl, Belgian outfit Moments release their new EP this month. Containing five hungry and irritable tracks, Outlast is a ferocious attack of hardcore and metal which manages to be a swiftly striking incitement of impressed pleasure and a slow burning cauldron of even richer promise.

Hailing from Tessenderlo, the quintet emerged in 2011 and has increasingly forged and earned a potent reputation and following at home and more recently across Europe with their live presence. They have shared stages with the likes of Bury Tomorrow, While She Sleeps, Our Last Night, and Stick To Your Guns as well as played numerous festivals such as Groezrock, True Spirit Festival, Summerblast, Cerberbrus and Rock Herk to great success. Now they are ready to poke at bigger attention with Outlast, a release declaring the possibility of a new potent force in hardcore town.

The EP makes an instant impact with its outstanding opener What If. As a busy street scene surrounds ears, the sonic trespass of guitars brews, swiftly taking over the landscape with wiry grooves and rapacious riffs. Dries Monsieurs’ vocals are just as quickly invasive and impressing, his ire coated roar supported by equally caustic tones and sounds from across the band. A raw yet infectious scent reminding of The Ghost of a Thousand carries appetite and imagination off into the irritable heart of the track, the hooks and grooves of guitarists Jeffrey Beutels and Kristof Fransen addictive as the imposing swings of drummer Benjamin Hendrickx simply bite upon the senses. It is a stunning start which is never quite matched again within Outlast but tenaciously and enjoyably supported by the likes of next up All It Takes.

The second song harries ears with an initial scrub of riffs, drums throbbing upon impact to match the resonating tone of Gert-Jan Vandervoort’s bass. If the first song it was a lingering threat, in its successor a predatory declaration is made yet with a catchy grooving as enticing as anything conjured by voice and guitar elsewhere. Harmonic backing to the throat scraping attack of Monsieurs is a great contrast to the antagonistic charge driving the song as too the citric melodic enterprise aligning with the sonic trespass abrasing the senses.

As the EP, the song simply grows in strength and enjoyment with each listen, a quality shared by all and indeed next up Crossroads which maybe did not quite hit the mark as fully the first few times around but blossomed to be another definite pleasure. It does not quite have the individual traits of its companions but employs more recognisable hardcore bred threads in a bold and heated metalcore spiced union of harsh and melodic craft.

Our Faults, Our Failures is a bracing tempest of emotion and sound straight after, it’s scalding sonic web as intensive as the rhythmic harassing and vocal animus of raw emotion and displeasure. It too is a grower reaching loftier heights with time whilst revealing open potential of bigger and bolder things with Moments. The band has been suggested for fans of artists like The Ghost Inside and Hatebreed, this track gives all the reasons why whilst still creating its own highly agreeable character again adding to that promise.

Outlast closes as it began, with a track which commands a quick appetite and hunger for its punk and metal quarrel. Riffs and hooks collide with the senses, sonic tenacity further searing the damage as rhythms create fresh bruises with every attack. It is addictive stuff, vocals almost cursing listener and world in tone alone, the bass showing a mutual discontent in its texture and grumble.

Moments is a band on the rise, Outlast a release which leaves a lingering scar and together a pair creating another reason to anticipate hardcore nurtured noise becoming especially exciting sometime soon.

Outlast is released May 26th.

https://www.facebook.com/momentsbe

Pete RingMaster 26/05/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright