Trepalium – Damballa’s Voodoo Doll

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They can try to call it groove metal, progressive metal maybe, or even avant-garde death metal, but quite simply the Damballa’s Voodoo Doll EP is swing metal in all its fresh faced glory. The six track dance of voracious metal rabidity and ridiculously virulent contagion is the new hex cast by French metallers Trepalium, a band no strangers to unleashing some of the most blistering and imagination stretching extreme metal over the past decade. French metal is in the midst of an innovative heyday right now, with seemingly every corner offering a new proposition to devour. It is also producing some of the most startlingly inventive proposals, unique experimental /avant-garde offerings from the likes of 6:33 and Carnival in Coal through to Pryapsime, Hardcore Anal Hydrogen, and Toumaï. One of the most rabid and nastily inventive of them all is Trepalium and their death metal bred sonic pestilence.

The band across four albums has persistently pushed their and metal’s boundaries with a raw hunger to infest viciousness with a seductive multi-flavoured originality, an intent bearing the most compelling fruit on Damballa’s Voodoo Doll. Cloaked in the allure of arcane mysticism and bursting with the tenacity and energy of vintage New Orleans jazz and swing, the EP is a nonstop stomp through fiercely grasping shadows and insidious black-hearted temptations, commanding feet and emotions like a maniacal puppeteer.

Voodoo Moonshine sets the sorcery in motion, a violent barroom the scene for big imposing and alluring beats to tone up ears and appetite ready for the salacious flames of brass and the throaty vocal malevolence of Cédric ‘KK’ Punda. His tones, as the music comes with a swagger, a demonic confidence which even in short grunts has intimidation and temptation dripping from every sound. The guitars of Harun Demiraslan and Nicolas Amossé are soon spinning a web of grooves and swing induced revelry, every flirtation and melodic toxin embraced in the rhythmic contagion of bassist Ludovic Chauveau and drummer Sylvain Bouvier. Embraced in the seductive heat of a full complement of brass and caressing keys, the track is a festival of sound and creative devilment, like a brawling romance between Gojira and Cherry Poppin’ Daddies with Destrage and Mucho Tapioca in close attention to give some hint of its infectious alchemy.

Talking of the first of those bands, Gojira’s Joseph Duplantier appears on the following title track, another taking a mere breath to enthral with its swinging 30’s big bandUpdatedArtwork like entrance clad in a just as immediately imposing and ferocious but catchy aggression. As in its predecessor, grooves bind and vein the track like vines, creeping deep into the passions and psyche as keys conjure their own individual demons. Imagination and emotions are just as swiftly inflamed by the villainous tapestry of sound, every unpredictable note and twist as well as boozy growl, an epidemic of incitement, though it is soon over run by the dark majesty of Possessed by the Nightlife. Twenties seeded keys paint the landscape before beats and riffs prowl and lurch up on the senses, their danger and menace as inescapable as the anthemic bait provided by the increasingly punchy rhythms. The song is brutal and uncompromising. from the pestilential tone of the bass to the barbarous predation of the guitars a merciless threat but again pure viral addiction leaving feet exhausted and thoughts ignited.

     Guédé Juice provides its own enslaving irreverence next, rhythmic swings and acidic grooves the frame to dirty jazz colours and a feverishly sultry climate of enterprise and creative rapacity. By the end of the song exhaustion and bliss are in overload and the spell keeps being casted as Fire on Skin broodily appears. Offering an opening impression or certainly the spark to thoughts of Creole like prohibition and dark magic in an embrace of the Dirty Thirties, the track is a muggy affair initially before the fetid mists part and the band bursts through with a metal driven rampage. Still employing eruptions of jazz endeavour, the track roars and bellows with extreme metal hostility and melodic rock enterprise, though it is a devious savaging as again there is a swing to much of its intensity and a venom which simply seduces body and soul.

The closing Blowjob on the Rocks spills its own dangerous persuasion to being the release to a mighty conclusion. There is a shadow and underlying animosity to the track, a seeming secret which flirts with ears and imagination throughout as the fully stocked brass persuasion spreads a weave of tangy intrigue and noir lit drama. It is a dark theatre only enhanced by the spicy nature and invention of the guitars, the trapping weight of the rhythms, and the treacherous elegance of the keys.

Damballa’s Voodoo Doll is dangerous; it is bad for the health of the body with its ridiculously infectious tempting and lethal for the psyche with its serpentine seduction and mystique. Ultimately though, the EP is one of the most exhilarating and lustful things likely to be heard this year, the next, or whilst the sun still warms our souls.

Damballa’s Voodoo Doll is available now via Klonosphere @ http://www.klonosphere.com/trepalium/

https://www.facebook.com/TREPALIUMBAND/

RingMaster 10/02/2015

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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

 

BulBul – Hirn Fein Hacken

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Ok I will admit I had not come across Austrian band Bulbul before being handed their new album Hirn Fein Hacken, a release which sees them returning after six years from not sure where, but from here on in after the intensive psyche examination presented by their latest, a backward investigation is sitting high on the list of musts. An insatiable and mischievous, not forgetting criminally addictive, exploration of every delicious element you can imagine to rile, ignite, and seduce the very core of the mind and senses, Hirn Fein Hacken is quite simply sonic irreverence and quite brilliant.

The first sign of Bulbul we can find is the release of their self-titled debut album in 1997, Bulbul a one man project of guitarist/vocalist Raumschiff Engelmayr at the time. With Derhunt linking up on bass, the band released second and again self-titled album in 1999, via as the first via Trost Records. Drummer Ddkern joined not long after as the band continued to experiment with sound, imagination, and their fans minds through their third and fourth albums in 2003 and 2005 respectively, again under the same monikers as the others. 2006 saw fifth album BlllBlll unleashed whilst the Patrick Pulsinger produced 6 was uncaged via Exile On Mainstream two years later to strong acclaim and attention. Hirn Fein Hacken is as mentioned the band’s return, again via EOM, and takes little time in slipping under the skin of the senses and psyche as well as giving the passions an irresistible creative toxicity to feast upon.

The Vienna hailing band’s influences according to the press release include the likes of The Kinks, Cpt. Beefheart, Rhys Chatham, Django Reinhart, Abner Jay, Fats Domino, and Bob Dylan, but as the album seduces with its ingenious seductive dementia we would suggest artists such as Kontrust, De Staat, Yello, and Fantomas as a starting place. Opener Fire offers a wide groan before bringing all of its thought and energy into a concentrated rhythmically driven nagging of ears and senses. Riffs gently niggle as the bass provides a fuzz kissed tonic to greedily swallow whilst all the while strong vocals dance over the bait with devilry in their tone and relish on their lips. The song continues to swagger and weave across the imagination, enterprise of the guitar as boisterously naughty as it is creative and the bass an irresistible growling incitement impossible to tear emotions away from.

It is a magnetic start which has little difficulty in making slaves of thoughts and passions, leaving the following Uhu a willing canvas to play with. An electro simmering ebbs and flows initially, its voice slightly smothered but eager to break free to greater clarity. That aspect is taken by the funk bred grooves and suasion of the guitar matched by the vivacious vocal delivery. The song smoulders, never lifting its gaze or energy from a wanton sway of its body and sex infused melodies. Not as dramatic as its predecessor but equally as enthralling, the song makes way for I hea eh scho lång nix mea, a song which like the first secures its initial conquest through repetitive coaxing before exploring an industrially inspired realm with clanking tubes, concussive temptations, and unpredictable almost maniacal imagination. The track pushes the earlier thoughts of De Staat to the fore, the song a cousin of their Sweatshop track without the same feverish urgency. It is a glorious trap for the passions warming them up for the even greater infestation to follow.

That virulence comes in the shape of the ridiculously addictive and epidemically infectious instrumental Kanzla. From its first second, guitars respectfully grind against the ears whilst the bass again adds a barracuda like tone to the abrasing lure of the song. The rhythmic restraint with punctuating twists of the drums only reinforces the delicious irritancy as the track persists with its rub through sonic rises and falls. The dip into a brief sultry teasing only inflames the senses more before the track reverts to its feverish meshuga of a tango, intermittently interrupting its blaze with further inventive twists.

Both the psychotic Fisole, where instruments are abused and random items employed for a warped bedlamic cacophony, and the noise rock taunting of Quicksand keep the passions breathless, the second of the two finding an element of Melvins and even Pere Ubu to its spellbinding guitar sculpted temptation. As impressively thrilling as they are the pair are only the appetiser for the pinnacle of the album, Gurdy. The track takes a breath before cantering eagerly through the ears, spicy short guitar strokes and rumbling riffing spurred on by the darkly sinister vocals and unrelenting rhythms. The track is pure 100% unbudging contagion, every flavour, trait, and inventive bait pure addictiveness. Imagine Mike Patton, Pryapsime, and Queens Of The Stone Age engaged in an illicit enterprise and you have the quite magnificent Gurdy.

Genderman Can provides a raw punk fuelled rampage next, vocals and bass antagonistic whilst the guitar boils the air with a blues tasting sonic toxin which again is only good for health and passions, especially its closing warped and sizzling smothering of the senses. From here the album relaxes its energetic stance to unveil a pair of slowly burning treats. Bomb comes first, its opening air awash with the fiery country blues flames which were hinted at on its predecessor. With pulsating beats and a psychedelic ambience drifting over song and listener whilst the vocals like the music flickers within a seductive fire formed around the narrative, the track is a mesmeric enchantment littered and primed with broad intrigue and unruly invention, but within a relatively sobering confine.

The closing A To Beans is just aural sex, a slow hip swerving seductress with smooth rhythms, a throbbing intent, and a sinister vocal invitation which should be avoided but impossible not to embrace as deeply as the noir blessed sounds. It is a ridiculously captivating end to a quite sensational release. As these last words are written contemplation of how BulBul avoided our attention is loud and incriminations rife, but it is hard to imagine previous releases being better than Hirn Fein Hacken so maybe this was the right time to find the band. We are heading back into their history as you read and suggest you do the same once you have been infected by this mad beauty.

http://www.bulbul.at/

http://bulbul.bandcamp.com/album/hirn-fein-hacken

10/10

RingMaster 08/04/2014

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