Fossils – The Meating

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Released a year ago, Flesh Hammer from Danish noise alchemists Fossils has, from fusing the senses and passions on its first touch, continued to reign on our weekly playlist, and more often than not in a daily burst or two. The outstanding release from the instrumental noise rockers as their sound generally, is a primal temptation sculpted by the bass and drums of Simon Tornby and Per Silkjær respectively. In that union though, the band breeds hooks, grooves, and rhythms which are as sinister and predatory as they are contagiously all-consuming. The album was pure addiction in our ears and the band exactly one year later have done it all over again with a new release, this one coming with a thrilling twist.

With their new instrumental exploration scheduled for 2016, Fossils have filled the gap between albums and impressively fed anticipation with new EP The Meating. Where that twist comes in is in the fact that this encounter is awash with tempestuous vocals. At the time of the unleashing of Flesh Hammer, the duo enlisted various singers to interpret tracks vocally from the album at its release show. Originally planned as a one off occurrence, the band subsequently took the performers into the studio to record their additions to the original songs, and now we have the quite scintillating and compelling devilry of The Meating; seven pieces from the last album re-interpreted and ignited again vocally. Renamed and presumably re-mixed or re-tweaked musically, unless the vocals transform tracks even more potently than we thought, the EP is another irresistible and storming onslaught from Fossils.

Opener Deadringer features Jacob Bredahl of The Kandidate and once of HateSphere, and under the torrential bombardment of Silkjær’s addictive beats it instantly has ears and attention submissive. It is of course prime Fossils bait, the snarling lure of the bass and its crunching riffs aligning to voraciously swinging rhythms for immediate manna to the ears. Bredakl is soon roaring with his distinctive tones, challenging and raging with attitude and animosity within the increasingly virulent sounds. Already a pungently confronting encounter, the song is given extra causticity and rancor by the singer, and as all the songs becomes a brand new proposition.

The following Taxon is graced by the blistering industrialised contribution of Ultimate Combat Noise, the track brewed into a corrosively attractive and psyche scorching antagonist whilst next Printup Meat Lover takes on a punk crafted guise thanks to Mads Stobberup of Cola Freaks. He vocally brawls over the spicy infectiousness of the equally agitated sound; the track like his voice is not exactly looking for a fight but given a nudge will lash out with relish. It is not the last track to have an infusion of varying punk revelry and those tracks do emerge as favourites, though everything excites without reserve.

   Marie Højlund of Marybell Katastrophy gives Ridge and the Rock a siren-esque seduction next, her ethereal and seductive tones wrapping like a temptress around the wiry lures of the bass and the ravenous energy of the drums. It is a bewitching infestation of senses and lust, an increasingly rabid and psychotic enchantment matched by the punk ferocity of Speedbacon. Seb Doubinsky provides the voice to the Dead Kennedys like take on the original rasher of noise bestiality. The track is ravenous in nature, though nicely contrasted by the vocal porcine fun in a presence barely lasting a minute of length.

The final two tracks steal the show, even if by a slither. Firstly Ham Reader expels an acidic and venomous bluster over its tempest of noise through Mikko Mansikkala Jensen’s bracing throat bred squalls. It is a ferocious and wholly magnetic assault which sets the emotions up perfectly for the final devilment of Ködhabit. The track is blessed by Kim Kix, one half of psyche rock ‘n’ rollers Powersolo, who thanks to Fossils and this release have just swiftly been added to our lustful favourites list. The song as expected launches a torrent of delicious grouchy bass growls and insatiable rhythms but grows further with the deranged tones and delivery of Kix. The song we would suggest is the most startlingly evolved of the bunch from the original templates set by Flesh Hammer, a hellacious rocker which relentlessly flirts with the passions in a way which only an image of Gene Vincent being twisted inside out by and thrust on stage by Cleve Barker’s Cenobites, who then provide the backing sounds fits. We said that every track is a massive and equally thrill, and they are, but the final song of The Meating is another type of creature and looks down on all with majestic lunacy.

The Meating is and feels like a brand new offering from Fossils as we await their next instrumental escapade. Flesh Hammer graced many a best of list in 2014, and we can find no reason why this new offering will not be doing the same come December.

The Meating is available from March 2nd via Indisciplinarian.

FOSSILS will be performing at the three Danish Indisciplinarian Label Nights in late March with label mates Piss Vortex and Anti Ritual at…

26/3 – Stengade, Copenhagen (DK)

27/3 – Radar, Aarhus (DK)

28/3 – 1000fryd, Aalborg (DK)

http://www.meatrush.com/   https://www.facebook.com/fossilsmusic

RingMaster 03/03/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Listen to the best independent music and artists on The RingMaster Review Radio Show and The Bone Orchard on Reputation Radio @ http://reputationradio.yooco.org/

Shitkill – The New Breed EP

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The bigger the expanse of sounds and bands we all hear, the more we go looking for that something extra to get excited about. It might not be a big twist which sparks a fire in personal tastes, but something which certainly ignites the imagination and shows that there is still varying degrees of originality within modern music. American metallers Shitkill is a band which with new EP, The New Breed, has plenty of those little differences and definitely teases a burst of enthused attention to ears and thoughts. Hailing out of New York, the quartet cast a sound which draws on a diverse flavouring of sounds; they more often than not seemingly are tagged as groove metal but as the EP shows it is just one shade of many creative colours ripe in their music.

Formed in 2009, Shitkill has continually nurtured a potent reputation for their live presence and sound, not only locally but into broader attention. Their stage impact has been one reason, the band increasingly strengthening their stock as they played with bands like Twelve Foot Ninja, the Cro-Mags, Eyehategod, and D.R.I., but also through their releases. 2010 saw the Asylum EP released but it is fair to say that their self-titled album a year later made the first real mark. Its well-received success was followed by two live albums in 2012 and 2014 respectively, but The New Breed EP is where it is easy to imagine the band soon luring a more global attention.

The EPs title track is first to persuade ears, and does so with swift success thanks to the opening rhythmic dance cast by drummer Damien Moffitt. It is inescapable bait aided by the sonic glances playing around the beats and taken to new heights by the deliciously carnivorous tones of Karina Rykman’s bass. It is animalistic in voice, every flick of a string bringing a predatory edge which simply grips an already awoken appetite. Things only get more compelling as the opening grooves and riffs cast by guitarists Danny Chpatchev and Josh Musto add to the tantalising proposition. The track swings and leaps round with devilment in its heart and creativity, but also an ever increasing unpredictability and imagination. The vocals of Musto scowl and rage, a a0653763495_2gravelly delivery somewhere in the ball park of Phil Anselmo. The song itself can be best described as a mix of System Of A Down, Bloodsimple and indeed Pantera, yet there is plenty more hinting and teasing within the provocation, and showing stronger glimpses as the release proceeds.

It is a potent and highly enticing start, but in some ways just the appetiser as things get more inventive and flavoursome. The next up Vultures instantly brings a new tempest of intrigue and aggressive flavouring, its hardcore essences a buffeting ire against metallic grooving and tangy melodic enterprise. From its initial stomp, the song slips into a compelling noise rock infused stomp, riffs and hooks shuffling with rhythms in a psychopathic yet fluid tango before returning to the stormy onslaught it began with.

Death Giver pushes the adventure of the EP to further riveting heights straight after, the track making a tenaciously imposing entrance with a torrent of riffs pierced by powerfully swung beats. Bass and subsequently vocals only add to the dark drama and intimidation though it is only the lead to greater irresistible temptation. A rugged proposal at first it suddenly throws off its severe manner and goes on an escapade of creative mania. There might be better ways to describe the sudden burst of ingenuity but with deranged grooves and hooks which feel bedlam bred, there is a delicious insanity to the track. The grooving reminds of The Cardiacs whilst around them the roars of vocals and rhythmic predation is as much punk as it is metal. The track is quite brilliant and those insidious grooves, a lingering serpentine infestation.

An even greater punk ferocity fuels Faceless, the song from its first breath a raging brawl unafraid to bring addictive hooks and spicy grooves into its hostile armoury. Though it cannot quite match the brilliance of its predecessor, the turbulent treat has pleasure full and hunger for more, greedier by the second. Punk metal at its best, the song makes way for the closing excellence of Underworld. It is another almost bestial in presence and tone, riffs and rhythms prowling the listener with persistent hostility whilst adding distractions like sudden agitated beats and vocal causticity. Those demonic grooves make their return again, nestling seductively into the different but no less enthralling landscape of the song. Embracing the metal side of the band’s sound with potent whispers of more classical breeding, the encounter has body and emotions engrossed and complicit in its dark deeds, especially through the closing stretch of heavy footed and superbly lumbering beats from Moffitt courted by the cavernous basslines of Rykman and the equally uncompromising enticements of the guitars.

It is a scintillating end to an impressive and thoroughly thrilling release. Probably like a great many, The New Breed is our introduction to Shitkill, another succumbing to their not majorly original sound but certainly a strikingly inventive and most of all fiercely enjoyable one.

The New Breed EP is available now digitally @ https://shitkill.bandcamp.com/

http://shitkill.com/     https://www.facebook.com/shitkill

RingMaster 03/03/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Listen to the best independent music and artists on The RingMaster Review Radio Show and The Bone Orchard on Reputation Radio @ http://reputationradio.yooco.org/

 

Passenger Peru – Light Places

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The acclaimed self-titled debut album from US duo Passenger Peru was quite simply inventive pop in its rawest and most compelling form. Released at the dawn of 2014, it instantly pushed the Brooklyn band if not into a category of its own, certainly on to a loftier perch than most other pieces of melodic exploration. Now the pair of Justin Stivers and Justin Gonzales returns with its successor Light Places, venturing into arguably even less polished but increasingly fascinating realms of invention and sonic weaving across its enthralling majesty. The album peers into new and at times darker places in the creativity of the band and the emotions of the listener, but never moving too far away from the melodic imagination and psyche seducing mesmerising which marked so impressively their debut.

Shadows have been a constant flirtation and temper in the music of Passenger Peru, but upon Light Places there seems a stronger contrasting of light and dark elements musically and emotionally. From the emotive lyrics through to the unpredictable tapestry of sounds, the release embraces the intimate warmth and cold of life, colouring them with a maze of inventiveness which at times almost borders on the warped and constantly leaves ears and imagination yearning for more. It is a gripping persuasion which starts from opening track House Squares and never relents across an ever twisting range of sounds and expressive atmospheres until the last sigh of the album’s final note. The opener immediately flirts with ears through a vibrant rhythmic dance which is soon courted by sober yet bright melodies from guitar and bass alike. There is haziness to the song too, but only a thin veil over the imaginative warm weave of melodic colour, concentrating more on the effect wrapped vocals. The song never deviates from its compelling repetitious stroll, simply adding new sounds and colours to the mesmeric tempting ensuring a fascinating start to the album.

It is a constant intrigue which is given more to ponder and explore with the charming Friends Don’t Call, a song which from a gentle soothing touch, boils and grows into a tempestuous vocal and musical climax. It has ears engrossed and imagination bewitched, each especially seduced by the dark throated bassline which grouchily pulsates through the song’s increasingly bedlamic climate. Already the album is showing darker tendencies in its nature and exploration compared to the last album, but also a ridiculously addictive invention which erupts in full ingenuity for The passengerperuBest Way To Drown. The first track revealed from the album just before its release, the imperious incitement is an instant dance of rhythmic devilry and tenacious strumming, elements forging together the pathway to powerful and climactic crescendos throughout the song’s landscape. Alongside vocals croon with a seductive sway whilst the nimble fingers behind guitars and bass sculpt a potent drama for the picturesque acoustic scenery, the latter showing a breeze of XTC and Slug Comparison in its radiance. The song is quite gripping, forging a new pinnacle in the album which is matched occasionally and worried constantly by the remaining encounters within Light Places.

Placeholder engrosses thoughts next, its Beatles-esque simplicity a rich lure which is at times buffeted and swallowed by a bedlamic tempest of noise and intensity; further contrasts strikingly conflicting with and complimenting each other. The pleasing flame of the song is surpassed by another major album peak in the fuzzy shape of One Time Daisy Fee. A touch of Melvins flirts from within its scuffed up invention, but also moments of folkish mischief and punky irreverence, all transforming a great adventure into a moment of brilliance.

Both the angular pop tantalising that is Break My Neck and the transfixing Failing Art School leave ears smiling and appetite greedy. The first manages to be a little clunky and simultaneously velvety in sound and touch whilst the second, which is predominantly an instrumental stroll through a visually melodic landscape of possibilities and emotional mysteries, simply sends the imagination off on its own poetic adventures with new evolutions in the script with every listen. The pair of songs are spellbinding, the latter especially engrossing before the outstanding Better Than The Movies parades its own inspirational ingenuity. Seemingly worldly in its influences and cosmopolitan in its flavour, the track is creative voodoo casting an inescapable spell with rhythmic minimalism within an electronic paint box.

Impossible Mathematics brings a calm back to the festivities; initially at least before its own raw textures and voracious ideation breaks out in varying degrees alongside juicy grooves and corrosive riffs as appetising and frequent as comforting vocals and sparkling melodies. It is another fresh twist to the flight of the album; its variety unrelenting as the dirtily lined sounds of Crimson Area Rug brings new dark emotions and exploits, and a character which is summed up by a word repeated in the song “paranoid”.

Light Places is brought to a close by firstly the soft and docile yet creatively lively On Company Time and lastly the delicate Pretty Lil’ Paintin’ with its balmy vocals. Neither track has a fire in its belly but both leave a warm glow around the listener which pleasingly relaxes emotions after the rigorous textures of other tracks before them; those contrasts again working beautifully.

Passenger Peru conjures unique embraces and experiences with their music; something already established with their debut album. Now though Light Places takes it to new and in some places intrusive depths; the result being another essential release from the band and a new exciting escapade for the listener.

Light Places is out digitally and as a Ltd Ed cassette via Fleeting Youth Records on February 24th @ http://fleetingyouthrecords.bandcamp.com/album/light-places

http://www.passengerperuband.com/

RingMaster 24/02/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Listen to the best independent music and artists on The RingMaster Review Radio Show and The Bone Orchard on Reputation Radio @ http://reputationradio.yooco.org/

 

Fashion Week – Prêt-à-Porter

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US noise breeders Fashion Week have a sound which is as scathing as it is caustic yet treats the listener like a king with regal melodies and provocative nuances within the ferocious encounters they call songs. As proven by new album Prêt-à-Porter, it is a striking and intimidating proposition but one that ears and emotions, certainly with the band’s fresh provocation, find hard to get enough of. The NYC trio prey on the senses, torment the psyche, and persistently inflame the imagination, whilst through Prêt-à-Porter provide one of the year’s most compelling releases so far.

Fashion Week consists of guitarist/vocalist Josh Lozano (Inswarm, Jarboe, Cobalt, Family), drummer Carl Eklof (Victory at Sea, Lidia Stone, Inswarm), and bassist Oscar Albis Rodriguez (A Great Big World, No Way, Nakatomi Plaza), and began its sonic explorations, if you go by the band’s bio, supposedly around the late 1980s. Three albums have been tucked under the band’s belts, though we can only find evidence beyond their words of the excellent EPs, Applicator (2011) and Coextinction #11 (2013), whilst and similarly again according to their bio, 1994 saw the death of Lozano, though this tragedy has been apparently followed by his ghost ripping up sounds and invention in bands like Family and Inswarm. There is a ripe confusion and humour to the band which certainly in the case of the latter, spreads to the music in many ways and adds to the fun of digging and exploring deep into debut album Prêt-à-Porter to reap all their inventive twists which come with the choicest rewards.

Opener Fendi Bender instantly treats ears to a sonic smooch before expelling a flavoursome blast of agitated rhythms and spicy riffs aligned to a delicious growl of a bass presence. A respite is in place as the clean tones of Lozano open up the lyrical narrative over those still highly tempting beats, a moment carrying a definite Nirvana-esque whiff to it. It is soon immersed in a wall of sonic hostility and vocal ferocity but gains a foothold again as the raw wave ebbs back readying itself for another intensive return. It is a captivating slice of diversely flavoured noise rock which swiftly has ears and appetite enlisted in the album’s potential and soon to be revealed addictive adventure.

Chorusace is the first to reinforce and feed that promise; its vocal sufferance an angst driven squall over transfixing rhythms and seductive grooves, both courted by just as magnetic shards of Pret_a_Portersonic ingenuity. Thoughts of Converge and Melvins come to mind during the track’s brief tenure, but also suggestions of the inventiveness of bands such as At the Drive In and Coilguns. It is the same with the excellent Meek is Miznabble which follows, the song’s beats and sonic tenacity, a maelstrom of unpredictable and furiously agitated ideation, though it too embraces a calmer and more relaxed passage of clean vocals and winey grooving.

The slow enticing of Summer Line keeps the fire of album and enjoyment burning next. The carnivorous tone of the bass is a thick instigator of the song’s prowling gait and oppressive shadows whilst Lozano’s guitar winds melodically around them with seductive tendencies. Again the eye of the storm moments of the provocation has a Cobain and co spicing whilst the tempestuous roar and corrosive brawl of the track is all Fashion Week designing.

The swinging sticks of Eklof provide a contagious trap as Fur Free Friday leaps into ears next, his inventive enticing an infectious lead into the melodic intrigue and creative maze of the song. Its sinews and bellow is not far from the surface though, expelling ire and antagonism within the magnetic landscape of the outstanding encounter.

The piano led Klosstrophobia explores a web of sound straight after; post and noise rock colluding with elements of death and post hardcore for an enthralling and intensive examination of songwriting and listener. It takes time to fully reveal its strengths, casting a slower persuasion compared to other songs but finding powerful success ultimately, which is not quite the same for “FASHION”=~S/(\$)/COLLAPSE/GSO. A patchwork of vocal samples over a mist of sonic distortion, the track is more an intro to the closing Haute Topic, though if not meant that way its intent was missed by our understanding. It is ok but easy to pass over after a couple of runs of the album foiled by the urge to dive into the triumph of Haute Topic. Grunge, noise, and melodic escapades all twist around each other for a thrilling and explosive conclusion to the album. It is the pinnacle of the release, helped further by the incendiary mixes of vocal delivery, sonic styles, and simply warped imagination, and almost alone gives the reason why Fashion Week should be on the catwalk of your attention.

     Prêt-à-Porter is a treat which might take time to steal your ardour but eventually will become one of the year’s favourite events.

Prêt-à-Porter is available now digitally, Cd, and 12” vinyl via Solar Flare Records @ http://music.solarflarerds.com/album/pr-t-porter

https://www.facebook.com/FashionWeekBand

RingMaster 25/02/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Listen to the best independent music and artists on The RingMaster Review Radio Show and The Bone Orchard on Reputation Radio @  http://www.thereputationlabel.today

 

Grizzlor – When You Die EP

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With so many releases presenting themselves each and every week it is easy for a fair few gems to slip under the radar without an additional nudge in their direction. Such would probably have happened with the When You Die EP if drummer John from its creators, the noise/dirt rock trio Grizzlor, had not offered an invitation to check out the four-track treat. Released via Money Fire Records, the EP is a raw and ravenous cauldron of noise and voracious intensity which is also unafraid to throw in the heaviest sludge bred endeavour and toxically seductive grooves. There is plenty more to their abrasing tempest of sound too, all revelling in the fuzz filtered tempest the band casts over the senses.

Hailing put of New Haven, Connecticut, Grizzlor was formed in 2013 with vocalist/guitarist Victor and bassist Wade alongside John. Their self-titled debut provided the first statement of noise last year whilst 2014 opened with the release of its successor We’re All Just Aliens, both providing great early hints and clues to the growing emergence and evolution of a sound which has hit a new plateau within When You Die. The band’s third EP can and should be the gateway to the broadest spotlight for the band, as long as there are plenty to nudge it in the direction of unsuspecting ears like ours were previously.

No Time sets the corrosive carnival of predacious sound off in gripping style, its first breath thick voracious smog of crunchy riffs and rumbling rhythms cast in a grizzled throated bass embrace which alone has the juices leaking. Bass and guitar make a ridiculously compelling bait, at times almost Morkobot like in its uncompromising persuasion, whilst the equally raw and honest tones of Victor and the pungent web of beats from John only adds to the lure and drama of the encounter. Grooves flirt from within the oppressive sludginess of the song whilst sonic temptation within the psyche rock seduction of the tempest, is as sultry as it is mesmeric.

The outstanding start leads into the psychotic bedlam that is Plaster Cowboy, manic squalls from Victor the prelude to a rampaging stroll of meaty jabbing beats and an impossibly addictive a3850649878_2bassline. It is soon immersed in a caustic mesh of guitar abrasion, the song twisting and launching in unpredictable and riveting style like a mix of The Screaming Blue Messiahs, Melvins, and KEN Mode. There is also in many ways an element of the senses grazing rabidity which drives The Mad Capsules Markets to the sonic turbulence and tenacity spilling from within the songs creative fury. Adding a delicious strain of surf rock to its melodic acidity too, the track soon steals top honours on the release though it is soon rivalled by the salacious scuzz tempting of Stoned where sludge and noise collude with garage punk and again a surf bred devilry for a compelling seducing of ears and imagination alongside a lingering erosion of the senses.

Closing things up is Mini Spaceships, another provocation of chunky riffs and intensive rhythms ridden by antagonistic vocals. Once more that toxic surf tempting is permeating every pore whilst the seriously captivating ferocity of the beats and grizzly riffs leaves a deep hunger for much more.

There is nothing polished and arguably welcoming to When You Die yet it is one of the most gripping and inescapable joys of the year. It offers music in its rawest and most primal ingenuity with an invention and devilry which only ignites the passions. Noise rock has a new heir to its throne and it is called Grizzlor.

The When You Die EP is available now via Money Fire Records digitally or on 7” vinyl @ http://grizzlordestroys.bandcamp.com/ or http://moneyfirerecords.bandcamp.com/album/when-you-die

http://www.facebook.com/grizzlordestroys

RingMaster 23/12/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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Auxes – Boys In My Head

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Storming the psyche like a deranged bluster forged from the sonic invention of The Pixies and Melvins bound in the raw devilment of The Fat Dukes Of Fuck and the acidic charm of The Mai Shi, Boys In My Head is contagion gone wild. The new album from Germany based noise punks Auxes is a masterfully devious roar combining addiction with primal seduction for without any doubt one of the year’s most essential propositions.

The successor to their previously acclaimed More! More! More! of 2012, Boys In My Head sees the band take some of its raw punk persuasion and fuse it to a broader noise and psyche rock exploration. The result is their most compelling and spicily intrusive incitement yet, which as well as those earlier comparisons also sows essences found in band such as At The Drive In, The Birthday Party, and The Locust. Consisting of the combined experiences and adventure of Dave Laney (the co-founder of Milemarker and Challenger), Florian Brandel (Eniac, Kommando Sonne-nmilch, Airpeople) and Manuel Wirtz (Eniac, Honigbomber, Die Charts), Auxes fire up ears and emotions with swift drama and success as Boys In My Head entangles ears with opener To All The Fires. Song and release provide an infestation which is as fascinating as it is unpredictable, as anthemically warped as it is sonically scorching, and from their first notes inescapable slavery.

To All The Fires immediately encases ears in a web of weighty beats and sonic intrigue, a coaxing soon flourishing with feistily flavoursome melodic enterprise fuelling enslaving grooves and hooks. Vocals too have an alluring expression which subsequent harmonies only enhance as the song continues to flirt and dance with the imagination. The impressive start is straight away surpassed by I Can’t Stand You Any Longer, the song from its initial feisty rub of riffery and jabbing rhythms, a voracious stomp of virulently gripping hooks and tangy melodic intrigue. There is a grunge spice to certain aspects of the track but primarily it is a merger of garage and noise rock devilry sparking thoughts of Fake Shark-Real Zombie!

The following I Wanna See Results riles up the passions with its brief but ravenous temptation, a gnarly bassline relentlessly courting acidic guitar endeavour whilst increasingly impressing vocal causticity and just as hungrily agitated rhythms unleash their narratives. Far too brief but irrepressibly thrilling, the encounter makes way for the album’s title track, itself an epidemic of rhythmic bait and resourceful hooks within a sonic haze. Seemingly strongly inspired by The Pixies, the song is a delicious weave of sonic slavery, every groove and tangy chord easy thraldom of thoughts and passions.

The pair of Dog & Master and Life In Their Television increases the album’s grip, the first opening with a predatory rub of riffs and similarly commanding rhythms before striding purposefully with creative rabidity and bewitching enterprise. The track is a scintillating hex on body and emotions whilst its successor is an instant tease with its percussive coaxing and boys in their headmischievous beats. It is revelry though which cannot resist bursting into a punk fired tempest of abrasing guitar invention and vocal confrontation, all around a throaty bass spine. The track is a fiery charge soaked in punk belligerence, it again igniting fresh hunger in the appetite for the outstanding release; a greed right away fed wholesomely by the Frank Black spiced Boom Boom Town. Harmonies and melodies thrive in the sonic tapestry around them, drawing on an acidic wine of sound to brew their equally captivating toxicity.

Every song brings a fresh peak to Boys In My Head, though maybe none as insatiably as Under Fire. Its primal seduction of bass and drums is the foreplay to an orgasmic devilment of barbed hooks and intoxicating grooves, a dramatic infection where there is no second where feet are relaxed and emotions silent, though that to be fair applies to most tracks, especially the relatively calmer but no less transfixing Hand In Hand With The Man and the sultry rock ‘n’ roller Dead Dead Eyes. The first of the two sways and flames with siren-esque sonic candy which brings hints of eighties bands like The Fire Engines and Scars. The second of the pair again has that breeze of nostalgia, offering whispers of the Scottish bands as just mentioned and the likes of Josef K but infusing it into a punk bred slice of ferocious rock with infectious vocals and chorus eventually aligned to anthemic chants.

The album closes with the darkly shadowed I’ve Had Enough, a post punk coloured antagonism engaging ears with a noise and punk rock provocation, and another which is as much an epidemic of tempting as it is a blast of creative turbulence. The song is a brilliant end to quite simply one of the year’s biggest triumphs. There have been a few essential encounters in 2014 and Boys In My Head easily joins the list; in fact it might just be the one heading the queue.

Boys In My Head is available now via Gunner Records, digitally and as CD, vinyl, and cassette versions @ http://auxes.bandcamp.com/album/boys-in-my-head

http://auxes.com/

RingMaster 26/11/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Listen to the best independent music and artists on The RingMaster Review Radio Show and The Bone Orchard from

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American Heritage – Prolapse

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With the departure of vocalist/guitarist Adam Norden following its recording, Prolapse from American Heritage might be the last thing heard from the Chicago band, but if this is so what a way to go out. It is a beast of a proposition, a tsunami of controlling grooves, belligerently aggressive rhythms, and a primal force of voice and breath. It is bullying mass of provocation and passion, a lingering statement from what will be a sorely missed band if there is to be no more.

Consisting of six new tracks and three covers brought in the fusion of thick sludge metal, imagination binding mathcore, and abrasing noise rock/hardcore ferocity the quartet is renowned for, the successor to acclaimed 2011 album Sedentary, uncages a caustic savaging which rivals anything they have unleashed before. Recorded with Sanford Parker and released through Solar Flare Records, sixth album Prolapse quite simply brings the band’s presence since 1996 to an incendiary and exhilarating end.

From the first sonic blast of opener Eastward Cast the Entrails, band and album has ears and attention severely grasped, the punishing initial touch leading into a bruising maelstrom of ferocious rhythms, corrosive riffs, and brawling vocals. Within the tempest though grooves raucously flirt and technical prowess seduces, the track increasingly expanding and flourishing in the imagination and emotions. Equally as it grows contagiousness coats the tenacity and enterprise of the guitars and rhythmic antagonism, the provocation becoming as seductive as it is hostile ensuring an insatiable and explosive start to the album swiftly matched by its successor.

Anxious Bedwetter roars and assaults with the entwined charm of Corrosion of Conformity, Mastodon, and Agnostic Front, it swiftly buffeting and igniting emotions with a torrential american_heritage_prolapseonslaught of raw riffery and rhythmic violence cast by drummer Mike Duffy. Again though there is a virulent temptation from scorching melodies and spicy grooves at work, all as uncompromising as the heart of the encounter but spreading irresistible magnetic toxicity. Vocally Norden leaves no syllable and emotion untainted by venom and anger whilst his and fellow guitarist Scott Shellhamer’s sonic temptation is simply bracing.

The pair of Obliviocrity and Constant and Consuming Fear of Death and Dying make no compromises on the senses, the first from another debilitating sonic squall and with nostrils flared, rampaging through ears on a breath-taking sonic turbulence and rhythmic inhospitality. To the destructiveness though again grooves are enflamed with a melodically brewed acidity and creative spice which invigorates and sears the senses. Its quick hellacious ravishment is contrasted by the prowling presence of the second of the pair. Reaped from the predatory essences of doom and sludge, the song crawls provocatively over the listener, imposing and oppressing in its air whilst exploring a brighter terrain of engaging melodies and radiant invention. There is still a menace to its raw beauty though, the band finding the same kind of dark allurement which has blessed the music of Killing Joke over the decades, bassist Erik Bocek, a constant primal enticement across the whole release, bringing forceful heavy seduction to the body of the song.

The hardcore severity always lurking within American Heritage is given full rein in the outstanding Mask of Lies next, the track a furnace of spite and rage with flesh flailing rhythms and riffery to match. It is a savaging you can only embrace and invite back time and time again, much as the next up Blackbird, it a hellacious forging of hardcore, punk, and noise rock rancor with psyche twisting invention. The track is a glorious predator and the pinnacle of the album, a relentless creative scourge which just has you drooling for more and ears and emotions exhausted.

The departure of the triumph is the start of the trio of covers on the album, starting with the outstanding take of the Descendents track Hürtin’ Crüe. It is an erosive swamp of sonic and vocal intensity, a merciless blaze with the charm of a public flogging and quite irresistible. It is followed by the Black Flag track Thirsty and Miserable, American Heritage treating it to their own kind of barbarous enterprise and stormily inventive bad blood before moving on to Bulletproof Cupid, the Girls Against Boys encounter. Openly salacious from its first vocal caress and fiercely imposing as soon as its first note preys on ears, the song is a delicious sinister seduction and dare one say even more potent than the original.

The track brings another unmissable offering from American Heritage to a fine close. What will be missed is the band’s presence, that realisation reinforced by Prolapse as it scars the senses whilst sparking a big tinge of sadness. Things move on and you just feel further raw adventures will be ahead in some guise from the members of the band, something very easy to breed an excited anticipation for, especially after this grand finale.

Prolapse is available now digitally and as CD and vinyl versions via Solar Flare Records @ http://music.solarflarerds.com/album/prolapse or http://americanheritage.bandcamp.com

https://www.facebook.com/americanheritageband

RingMaster26/11/2014

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