Buñuel – The Easy Way Out

If the soundtrack to the fall of the world is The Easy Way Out, the new album from Buñuel, then our arms for one can easily embrace the demise of all. The eleven track tempest is simply glorious, a collusion of sonic and emotional dissonance within a voracious carnival of noise which devours as it seduces.

The Easy Way Out is the successor to the quartet’s acclaimed 2016 debut album A Resting Place For Strangers, a release pushing the walls of the former’s ferocity, imagination, and psyche twisting trespass far further. The US/Italy hailing foursome create an often suffocating, frequently corrosive, and perpetually rousing assault of invention from within its walls, taking ears and emotions on an visceral rollercoaster ride fronted by the vocal prowess of Eugene S Robinson, already renowned for his part of Oxbow. Like a barker to its twisted sideshow but decisively more ringleader than narrator, his lyrical inharmony breeds a vocal dissidence and tenacity which is pure magnetism. Equally the ravenous sounds cast by bassist Pierpaolo Capovilla and drummer Franz Valente (both One Dimensional Man, Il Teatro Degli Orrori) alongside guitarist Xabier Iriondo (Afterhours) inspire as they corrupt, arouse as they deviously manipulate.

Opener Boys To Men emerges from its dark depths on a ponderous yet hypnotic prowl, Robinson instantly crawling all over its muscular drone bred awakening with vocal aberration as delirious as it is lucid. Inescapably transfixing across its increasingly tempestuous, intense fibrous yawn, the track invades like something akin to Swans meets Pere Ubu, and simply had ears and imagination afire.

The Hammer / The Coffin follows and instantly takes its own tight grip on attention as the feral temptation of Capovilla’s bass aligns to the swinging rabidity of Valente’s beats. Vocals and guitar toxicity are soon infesting song and listener, their carnivorous discord raw contagion as the noise rock seeded invasion swiftly has body and thoughts bouncing with equally bedlamic eagerness before the track releases its puppet into the waiting subversive rock ‘n’ roll jaws of Dial Tone. Harmonic toxins vein the boisterously bruising stomp, lighting up its heavy tenebrous flood of sound to easily get under the skin whilst exhausting the senses though it in turn is just a warm up for the even more debilitating roar of A Sorrowfull Night. With strand like hooks recalling The Fall within its tsunami of voluminous sound, the track is a post/noise punk trap to which capture and addiction was a done deal within its first few breaths.

Next come the monotonous sludge thick advance of The Sanction where rhythmic and citric enterprise bewitch alongside the ever compelling presence and dexterity of Robinson while Happy Hour twists and turns straight after like a punk dervish, flinging visceral grooves and sonic splinters with relish. The first of the two epitomises so much of the album with its mercurial landscape, its unpredictable terrain of imagination evolving and wrong-footing with ease, the second a less pronounced but just as inspired echo within its carnal punk ‘n’ roll.

Next up is The Roll which is simply magnificent. From its opening dance of keys against the raw discordance of the bass, the song invites as it taunts. Female vocals alongside Robinson similarly grab ears as they light the hungry onslaught before Augur stalks and fingers the senses with its rock ‘n’ roll schism. Like a meeting between Big Black and The Filthy Tongues with Shellac looking in yet truly unique to Buñuel, it is raw magnetism from start to finish.

Shot is just wild noise punk at its best, fifty seconds of anarchy before Where You Lay intimidates, threatens, and physically harasses the senses and psyche. Vocally, Robinson is as imposing and invasive as the sounds uniting around him, the track like a disconnected tangle of sinews and tones coming together layer by layer never disguising the portentous corrosive outcome their unity will bring.

The album concludes with Hooker, a final but accepting fissure on the album’s theme within a sonic misting as toxic as it is deceptively calm; a last corroded breath in the stark, barren outcome of the album’s sonic apocalypse.

With the amount of releases we are blessed to be sent it is not too hard to find plenty to get excited over but to be truly blow away by it a rare occurrence but one The Easy Way Out achieved. It is a definite album of the year contender with already a grip on top spot but easy to suggest also one of the decade’s most essential moments.

The Easy Way Out is released July 27th via La Tempesta International and Goodfellas Records.

https://www.facebook.com/Bunuelband/

Pete RingMaster 24/07/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Canshaker Pi – Naughty Naughty Violence

The word is that Dutch outfit Canshaker Pi is one emerging proposition sparking excitement and keen attention at every turn.  Now having been introduced to them through their first album it is easy to hear why. Naughty Naughty Violence is a devilishly magnetic and creatively mischievous indie rock romp; one spawned from a fusion of ear grabbing flavours equipped with an arsenal of hooks to make a Cenobite jealous.

The Amsterdam band’s sound is bred through varied strains of rock, punk, indie, and noise woven into a web of rhythmic and sonic manipulation. Since forming, the quartet has earned increasing attention and praise through their music and a live presence which has seen them share stages with the likes of The Cribs, Car Seat Headrest, Parquet Courts, Pip Blom, and Scott Kannberg’s Spiral Stairs and this year alone gather plaudits from playing Eurosonic, SXSW, and The Great Escape. That Pavement link is maybe no surprise as the band’s sound has a certain spicing of them and no doubt helped the band grab support slot on Kannberg’s side project’s tour in 2017 and continues with Canshaker Pi’s debut album being produced by Stephen Malkmus.

Naughty Naughty Violence swiftly shows that there is a definite individuality to Canshaker Pi’s sound, one not necessarily unique but springing a fresh and distinct character of imagination and flavouring which quickly got under our skin. Album opener is Pressure From Above, a song instantly teasing with an electronic wag of its creative finger and soon bursting into a fuzz fired boisterous stroll. As calm vocals join in, the track relaxes but is soon romping again bringing greater clamour and tenacity to its contagious rock ‘n’ roll. Already it is easy to sense that Pavement inspiration and too of bands like The Mai Shi, a kaleidoscope of hooks and melodic unpredictability additionally lighting the great beginning to the release.

It is a start soon eclipsed though, the initial off-kilter sonic lure of next up Tonsil enough alone to ignite our discord loving instincts. It is a kind of false start but the trigger to the glorious swagger wearing exploits of the track, that continuing discord a delicious clamour of temptation and trespass often enticing like a raw pop fuelled mix of Shellac and The Melvins. The final sonic sigh of the track drifts into the opening vocal and sonic discordance of Sooner Later. Around a compelling bass throb, the brief but dramatic track ignites and disrupts the senses, noise and voice a volatile incitement driven by the irresistible manipulation of the drums.

Three tracks in and fair to say we were hooked and only dangling with further enjoyment as Smurf uncaged its infectious canter like a grunge inspired Fountains of Wayne next with the following If Kelly Doesn’t, Then Who Will calming things down with its melodic and rhythmic pop ‘n’ roll. Neither track quite sparked the more lustful responses caused by their predecessors but ears could not evade being caught up in their individual and increasingly persuasive captivations; the latter especially as it just blossomed play by play to have us bouncing around as forcibly as its own endeavour.

But Why provided one minute of rousing noise rock next, rhythms humping ears as guitars meddle with the senses and vocals tease. With not even a breath allowed between them, No Sack, No Way saunters in to match its success, an immediate ear enslaving hook steering its lure. It is matched in magnetism by bass and vocals, each a controlled but virulent tempting entangling for even greater seduction of the imagination. Pop rock has rarely been heard more addictively in our speakers though its successor Put A Record Out with its ballsier rock ‘n’ roll was more than a match as it unleashed its resourcefully fiery clamour around further rhythmic machination.

In contrast to its raucous blaze, Legless provided a calm almost solemn amble through sound and imagination. The outstanding track carries something of early Cure meets Dinosaur Jr to its tantalising slow post punk sway while The Indie Academy straight after is up on its heels swinging along with pop rock devilment to almost as imposingly please.

The final pair of Half Book and Beautiful World brings the album to a potent conclusion, the first of the two again inventively merging flavours and eras with its post punk/pop punk infested rock before the second leaves ears immersed in a shadow wrapped melancholic croon with its own infectious gait and enterprise boiling up to a rousing corrosive climax.

Naughty Naughty Violence is an album which was really hard to move on from which tells you all about its exploits and temptations. As we said at the start, Canshaker Pi is being very highly talked of right now, their new album gives all the reasons why.

Naughty Naughty Violence is out now through Excelsior Recordings.

http://www.canshakerpi.nl/   https://www.facebook.com/CanshakerPi/   https://twitter.com/CanshakerPi

Pete RingMaster 05/06/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Exoskeletons – We Are Here To Make Things Better

Two years ago, British outfit Exoskeletons caught the imagination with their first release, the Get Lost EP. It was a striking almost rabid slice of punk infused noise rock which excited as it whetted the appetite for the band’s emerging sound. Since then the band has been in a process of “writing, gigging, destroying and rewriting material in an effort to find something new and more challenging.” The upcoming release of debut album We Are Here To Make Things Better is undeniable evidence in their discovering and exploring that new and individual incitement which most importantly is rather irresistible.

From Kent, Exoskeletons consists of members of Punching Swans, Bear vs Manero, and Houdini; all three bands which has certainly lit our fires in their own rights. Embracing inspirations from the writings of Greg Egan and Philip K Dick, especially on themes of Artificial intelligence, We Are Here To Make Things Better was recorded over 9 months between the September of last year and this past June. Released through Skingasm Records, the album is an adventurous mix of alternative rock with the band’s punk/noise origins which develops a distinct but connecting character over its ten tracks but brings an unpredictable quality and imagination to each.

Face In The Rock starts things off, the track merging from subdued sonic disturbance with beckoning beats and soon after the throbbing lure of bass. As the guitar entangles both with its acidic melodic vines, Greg Webster’s vocals step in, his distinctive tones inevitably bringing a Houdini feel though his guitar and the rhythmic imagination of bassist Peter Bevan and drummer Tom Bonner swiftly sculpt Exoskeletons unique textures and invention. The song continues to pounce and romp on the listener’s imagination, its kinetic gait and lively energy firmly gripping attention.

Even so, it is soon outshone by the following track and new single House Of Disappearing Bricks. It is pure virulent infectiousness, its firmly rapping beats and gnarly bassline instinctive manna to these ears even before the punk soaked attack of chords and vocals add to the trespass. The track’s post punk antics swiftly hit the spot, its noise punk devilry inflaming the passions as swinging rhythms and spiky hooks wake up a lustful submission to their angular bait. It is sublime stuff, pop discordance at its best and surely alone an unstoppable lure into the world of Exoskeletons for a new flood of fans.

Kuiper swaggers in next, again beats and bass casting an enslaving web as vocals across the band infest the psyche within another guitar woven tapestry of enterprise as belligerent as it is psychotic. Kind of like a mix of Shellac and The Mai Shi, the song traps ears in a compelling maze of sound before the more even keeled stroll of In Real Life takes over. In saying that, it pleasingly too has a rhythmic skeleton which jerks around with dervish like agility around which melodies with a caustic hue blossom. Passages of even calmer energy has a great feel of UK band An Entire Legion to them but again what emerges is a track distinct to its creators.

Through the catchy clamour of Crash Symbols and the crunchy prowess of Holes pleasure only escalates; the first, maybe without the striking quirkiness of those before, a magnetic cauldron of sonic imagination and rhythmic dexterity which seals the deal even before the brilliance of the irritable bass and great dissension of the vocals enslave. Its successor is a wonderfully dirty and cantankerous proposal with an addictively contagious swing which continues to infest an evolving landscape of adventure. There is a definite Melvins like ingenuity to the track but similarly echoes of the great music scene in the Medway area of Britain which the band’s line-up has been a major part of in recent times.

Again ultimately, the track is individual to Exoskeletons, a trait all songs process as shown yet unsurprisingly by next up Cicadas which is a more subdued proposition in nature to its companions but one rich in enticing hooks and dramatic ideation. Attention is putty in its hands and a greed for more overwhelming and fully fed by successor Show. It’s almost tempestuous start quickly turns to a bold saunter with another highly flirtatious bassline and spirited beats aligned to Webster’s suggestive guitar weaving and vocal dynamics. It too is low on the aggression of previous tracks but high on imposing enterprise and a flavoursome mix of imaginative post and noise punk tenacity.

The penultimate track is Dust; an expected atmospheric indeed haunting piece of sci-fi bred AI suggestiveness. Minimalistic but very potent, it has the imagination at play before the album reveals its best track to bring things to an enthralling close. Wild Swimmers is simply immense and for personal tastes leaves everything before it, and a heady collection of songs they are too, in its wake. From a distance it flows in with bass and sonic intrigue to the fore; both essences soon uniting with the most delicious hook nurtured melody. Alongside, a nagging tide of riffs work away, always there enticing even as the track twists through its unpredictable landscape. Bevan’s bass is once more manna to ears, its grumbling exploits as eventful and persuasive as the lithe rhythmic craft of Bonner and Webster’s resourceful sonic painting. Add the ever captivating vocal strengths of the band and you have a feast for the ear and a song which suggests we, as the band, have so much more to discover ahead with the Exoskeletons imagination.

Because of the Get Lost EP and the previous exploits of its band members which we previously got hooked on, we expected to find plenty to enjoy within We Are Here To Make Things Better but not to the lustful extent we did. Quite simply the album and band back up the declaration of its title in one of the year’s major highlights.

We Are Here To Make Things Better is released November 10th on Skingasm Records.

UpcomingTour Dates

19/10 – Maidstone – Drakes

03/11 – Ramsgate Music Hall

17/11 – Manchester – Fallows Cafe

18/11 – Leeds – Tbc

23/11 – Camden, London – Our Black Heart (album launch show)

22/12 – Chatham – Poco Loco

http://weareexoskeletons.com/    https://www.facebook.com/weareexoskeletons/    https://twitter.com/weexoskeletons    https://weareexoskeletons.bandcamp.com/

Pete RingMaster 25/10/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Pink Muscles -The Signal

There is no denying that 2017 has to date been a truly potent and exciting ignition of personal tastes and that success has just been given another lusty boost through the debut album from US noise punks Pink Muscles. Devouring the senses and imagination with raw hunger, The Signal is a psychosis of sound, an irritant of noise wrapped up in just as lustfully weird tales and quite irresistible.

Hailing from Seattle, Pink Muscles began as a solo project for guitarist/vocalist Marshall McLaughlin. Exploring his unique vision of sound and songwriting, he recorded the Upper Body Strength demo in 2014 before exploring the bringing together of a full line-up which saw the addition of guitarist Eric Elliott, bassist Lee Newman, recently replaced by Stuart Dahlquist (Goatsnake, Sunn O))), Asva), and drummer Janet Trares (Hell’s Belles) in 2016. Their uncompromising fusion of punk and noise rock with a cauldron of other fiercely rapacious flavours from hardcore to thrash and death metal soon found a powerful presence on the local live scene, the quartet having played alongside the likes of The Dwarves, Author and Punisher, Dayglo Abortions, and Nasalrod over the past year. Now they are setting out on trespassing and infesting broader landscapes with The Signal, bringing something unique and fresh to a punk scene which in so many ways no longer boasts those attributes.

Artwork by Cindy Hepler

A concept album in spirit with its 14 “mini-horror films” springing stories of inter-dimensional monsters invading earth to end humanity, The Signal opens with Resumption and a one minute attack of psychotic punk with exotic spatial tendrils and mass vocal causticity, all splintered with warped bursts of sax amidst sonic turmoil. It is beautiful chaos, as addictive as it is disconcerting and the spark for even greater cacophonic alchemy within Teenage Rainbows. With McLaughlin as good as bullying ears with his great vocal presence, the song swings and mentally comes apart within seconds, its creative turbulence bred on caustic guitar riffs and crazed hooks as strings are violently twanged and beats antagonistically swung in another swift off-kilter assault akin to Botch making out with The Locust.

Infestopus invades next, its earthy groove and bestial riffs making a barbarous invitation to a web of sonic loco and scuzzy goodness again as fleeting as a deep breath and just as rewarding before Star Grove unleashes it’s animalistic instincts; guitars and bass going on a murderous rampage as beats damage and bullish vocals arouse. There is a touch of Lightning Bolt to the song, a little bit Melvins too but a savaging individual to Pink Muscles as it corrupts and incites on its uninterrupted way to the waiting humans into insects pharmacy of The Man at the End of My Street. In many ways, the album becomes even more deranged and imagination gripping from this track on. Its thumping beats certainly leave the same scars as its predecessors, but there is a more abstract structure to the weave of colluding and contrasting textures making up the outstanding bughouse. The swarm of guitar trespassing ears is a toxic delight whilst vocals, as the nastily brooding tones of the bass, are a mix of predation and animosity, it all pure addiction sparking.

Black Market Tampons is next, a cosmic horrorshow of “demonic male pregnancy and magic tampons” seducing and corroding the senses. Imagine the dementia of Pere Ubu, the inspiring discord of The Fire Engines, and the punk ferocity of Today Is The Day, and you have a treat of a song if still not quite accurate of its ingenuity.

The haywire webbing of Battery Acid is even more exhilarating; guitars spinning a trap of sonic violation as rhythms tenaciously grumble and impose while vocals paint a giant arachnophobia fear fest. As all tracks, within the carnal exploits there is an infectious air which quickly steals the passions though offering its most virulent strain in this one of the album’s major highlights; a peak quickly rivalled by the visceral climate and drama of Party at Murder Beach. The track is a gripping slab of punk ‘n’ roll with a voracious swing and swagger which alone is a submission giving temptation while The Egg Lady infests and infects ears and imagination with its own certifiable bedlam and theatre of sound and invention.

I Wrote This Song With My Father’s Guitar stems from the instrument McLaughlin inherited from his late father, the inspiration to his exploration of music, and provides fifty odd seconds of insatiable punk rock which simply hits the spot before aurally venomous The Master and Officers of the Universe with its feral dynamics and textures hungrily ravage, savage, and ignite all over again. All three bring a new lust for the album to rise, Heaven is for Real backing them up with its cantankerous wall of sound and vocal ruthlessness; the track a real beast of a proposal.

Bringing the album to a close, Mouth House grabs favourite song honours though with its nefarious air and intoxication of flavours. Playing with the imagination like an aberrantly unhinged merger of Essential Logic, Boris, and Shellac, the track is intrusive bliss building up to a scorching cacophony leaving a lasting imprint on ears and pleasure.

The Signal is the announcement of a new noise punk treat in town and quickly showing that Pink Muscles have much more than that slim tag to their imagination and beef. Another must for 2017 we say.

The Signal is out now @ https://pinkmuscles.bandcamp.com/releases

https://www.facebook.com/pinkmuscles/

Pete RingMaster 09/05/2017

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Min Diesel – Mince

Photo by Lori Wilson.

Photo by Lori Wilson.

Mince, the debut album from Scottish band Min Diesel, is a clash on the senses and for some maybe a car crash as certainly their sound is not going to be an easy fit for many. It is a challenging proposition, and at times has even keen ears unsure but its real potency is in luring back regular attention which shows album and band are doing plenty right.

Aberdeen bred Min Diesel take inspirations from late-80s/early-90s punk, lo-fi and math-rock bands into their abrasing cacophony of sonic enterprise. They are a trio also becoming used to strong support and praise, through a live presence which has seen the band play with the likes of Errors, Acoustic Ladyland, Joan of Arc, Johnny Foreigner, Playlounge, Tuff Love, Hot Club de Paris, Sky Larkin, and Paws since forming in 2009 and a clutch of EPs. Two splits with Sidca and Pinact respectively in 2013 lured potent acclaim whilst last year’s Puzzle & Activity EP gave an enticing teaser to Min Diesel’s debut album now uncaged and prowling the psyche.

The threesome of Zippy, Stu, and David state inspirations come from the likes of Fugazi, Pavement, and Shellac whilst others have compared the band to artists such as Dinosaur Jr. and Stapleton. They are all understandable references though you can add many others, for us at times thoughts of Pere Ubu emerging in certain places across Mince. Equally though there is a freshness to the band’s sound which puts them at least one step aside of the crowd. Opener War Band swiftly entangles the senses in a healthy scrub of guitar and thumping beats, their union with the throaty lure of bass a magnetic invitation for ears and attention. The vocals come from within the thick mesh of sound, laying deeper in their textures than expected but working enjoyably as contagion brews within the enjoyable encounter. A searing spearing of guitar erupts in its closing moments, its acidic aggression imposing and magnetic as the track leaves with impact.

a2445096622_10   The following Pagan Pageant opens with a folkish air and quaint melody wrapped in caustic ambience, the blend further coloured by raw and often wandering vocals. Slightly deranged and openly wrong-footing, the song swings from good to not sure regularly but already there is that captivation at play meaning you want to indulge in its confusion and incitement again and again in response to its increasing persuasion. Next up Trail of T-Shirts is a more immediate tempting but also reveals stronger enticing over listens. Sharp hooks and spoiled melodies provide an appealing enticement whilst the energetic rhythms quickly bait ears and appetite, but it is the delicious discord coating the clang which steals the passions, another mighty aspect across the release backed as here by potent guitar craft and rhythmic juggling.

Kirk Session reveals a mellow though no less concussive quality to songwriting and sound next, the band casting a jarring croon of sound and vocal prowess which again will work for some and not others whilst Down on the Green straight after, goes for a more predatory intent for its pop rock cacophony. The bass discovers a bestial growl over which voice and guitar dance with brash yet warm resourcefulness. As it continues the track seems to turn a little mellower though ears are still resonating to the sonic jangle and rhythmic confrontation by its close.

The album hits its high spot with the next trio of tracks, starting with the virulent swagger of dB where again the bass is wonderfully bestial against the melodic ferocity around it. The song emerges like a tart mix of Swell Maps and Asylums though there is also a strong whiff of Josef K and very early Orange Juice to the encounter, all spicing adding to the invention of the best track upon Mince, though it is quickly challenged by Last Bus (Emm Es Bee ). The new encounter sways whilst caressing ears with citric melodies and a tangy sonic tempting, musically playing like a raw lemon on the tongue, making the senses pucker at its touch but sparking a hunger for more. Again though, it is the inventive discord trespasses which steal the show, adding greater intensity and weight to the thrilling croon.

Another song which half thrills but leaves questions in its wake, Musskulls is a psyche pop/noise rock tangle of sound and ideation. It twists and turns through coherent and deranged scenery with seamless and ultimately enticing adventure though vocally something goes a little astray. That said without finding the same spark as the last two songs, it still engages ears and thoughts forcibly and as the album grows with every listen.

Mince is brought to a close by firstly the volatile energy and aggression of Bastards, an encounter with a catchy melodic spine of infectiousness, and finally North-East Soul, a dark and raw serenade which sparkles with the Scottish lilt of the vocals, the first time the accent really comes into play within the album. Stray twangs and off kilter noise add to the drama and lure of the enthralling end to the encounter, the band almost exploring improvisation with sonic relish across the turbulent landscape.

We are on safe ground suggesting that Mince will not be a tasty offering for all but it is a release which needs time and focus to explore and come to terms with; for us as an example, it making an ok first impression but with regular engagement turning into a vat of increasing persuasion and thorough enjoyment.

Mince is available now via Struggletown in association with AlbTwo Records and Cool Yr Jets digitally and on Ltd Edition 12” cream or red/white vinyl @ http://mindiesel.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Min-Diesel/122142337808269

RingMaster 12/05/2015

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.reputationradio.net

Jarboe and Helen Money – Self Titled

ABX063_jhm_cover

It is almost frightening how spellbinding the collaboration between Jarboe and Helen Money is on their self-titled album, how immersed into its dark inviting depths and ravenously siren-esque shadows ears, imagination, and simply reality becomes. The release is quite extraordinary, embroiling the listener in a soundscape of harmonic drones and sonic distortion but equally a sinister beauty and psyche engulfing adventure. It should probably be no surprise the impact of the album. When you place the evocative invention, craft, and voice of Swans co-founder and former vocalist Jarboe alongside the creative dark majesty of visionary cellist Helen Money (aka Alison Chesley), something startling was bound to happen, though an understatement in the case of their album.

Neither lady is a stranger to the skills and adventure of collaborating, Jarboe having worked on over 63 projects with the likes of Philip Anselmo, Neurosis, Jim Thirlwell, Merzbow, Bill Laswell, A Perfect Circle, Colin Marston, Cobalt, Cattle Decapitation, Justin K. Broadrick, Jesu…and the list goes on, alongside her 36 solo albums, whilst Helen Money has linked up with artists such as Mono, Anthrax, Russian Circles, Joe Lally and Shellac over time. They are experiences and bold adventures which have added to their own subsequent imaginative creativity, something their album reeks of.

The delicious tones of Money’s cello is the first caress as album opener For My Father embraces ears, its melancholic voice provocatively coaxing senses and thoughts under a just as darkly lit ambience. The heavy emotional air parts just a slither for the instantly magnetic presence of Jarboe, her radiant tones instantly poetic like against the shadows and the crinkling texture of her keys. The track continues its increasingly broadening embrace as both ladies unveil further shafts of melodic light and doom lined expression through their respective skills. The song is simply mesmeric, a golden sunrise of enterprise and melodic temptation but equally a breeding of dark clouds and imposing drama. As expansive a minimalistic proposition you are ever likely to be lost within, certainly outside of the album, there is an immediate immersion into the heart of the release, external light not to be seen and felt again until the album decides.

The following My Enemy My Friend is similarly a swift fascination of noir wrapped radiance; the alluring string plucking of Money tensing the spring for the flight of intensive sonic and emotional exploration. Within seconds the instrumental is resonating through body and thoughts, the lyrical and social nudging of the first track seemingly spreading into the intimidating but seductive breath of its successor. Keys and cello create a labyrinth of haunting and ominous suggestiveness, an incitement the imagination tenaciously casts scenes with whilst emotions bow before the weight of the track’s rousing portentousness. It is meditative and unsettling, and quite riveting, a success matched by the outstanding Hello Mr. Blue.

The almost carnivorous opening of what feels like bestial bass is glorious, something to sell your soul for. Whether it is bass or a brilliant merging of keys and cello which is also possible as repeat listens twist and turn with indecision, it is an enslaving start which only escalates into a kaleidoscope of, well creative alchemy to be honest. The floating harmonies of Jarboe seduce with celestial beauty whilst Money’s cello flirts with darkly centred eyes, every note having a knowing smile to their heavy persuasion. As Jarboe unveils the warmly delivered narrative, the track in contrast becomes a brewing maelstrom of agitation and aggravation, egged on by the contagious rhythmic dance of the piece. Every track already has breached new plateaus and taken the listener into inventively denser and increasingly threatening exploits, and this continues that exhilarating success as its marches towards its controlled but vocally bedlamic closure.

Wired is pretty much what it says on the tin, its presence a fibrous mesh of sounds and sonic intrigue presenting an intensive and feverish climate for ears and a sea of opportunities for the imagination to interpret and develop further, whether through its voracious incitement or the more of a harmonic smoulder it also harbours. There is little time for those thought bred adventures to take long term root though before the intimacy of Truth inspires with its own reflective beauty. Keys and sublimely drifting harmonies soaked in an air of loneliness kiss ears first before Jarboe opens up her vocal heart in a theatre of those continuing initial croons and just as emotive guitar stabs.

It is hard with words to present the drama and emotive intensity which comes with every bewitching track and the pair’s creative ingenuity which unrelentingly and deeply works away once breaching ears, but easy to enthuse over the ever evolving experiences which re-invent themselves in sound and visceral adventure with every listen. The closing Every Confidence is a perfect example. We can only hint at the tempestuous nature and climate which seeds from and descends on the senses and psyche after an initial gentle mesmeric croon of sound, but rigorously recommend its rapacious hunger to stretch not only the listener and their emotions, but the creative emprise bred by the artists pushing their instrumental and vocal limits.

It is a challenge and success which applies to the whole of the album. It is an astonishing encounter, a scourge of everything bland and predictable in modern music which goes beyond being something merely to listen to. You feel and almost taste the dynamic and intensive atmospheres of the tracks, you breath the drama and emotional intensity of the sounds and their inspiration, and ultimately it is a journey provided by Jarboe and Helen Money which you take and will never be the same again after.

Jarboe and Helen Money’s album is available now via Aurora Borealis as a black vinyl LP, on CD and digitally.

http://www.thelivingjarboe.com/     http://helenmoney.com/

RingMaster 04/03/2015

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/

 

 

The Males – Her Golden Blood EP

MALES BAND PHOTO

Dirty, fuzz lit, and pungently unfussy, the sound of UK noise rock band The Males is a proposition which just crawls under the skin and gets feet right through to passions dancing to its feverish tune. The band’s new EP Her Golden Blood tells you all you need to know about the emerging band. Consisting of three songs which are just as grunge/stoner fuelled as they are noise spawned, it is an encounter which does not make massive waves but ripples and smoulders very nicely to leave a lingering and raucously reminding indent in thoughts and emotions.

The Males was spawned from the creative coming together of guitarist Will Goldstone and vocalist/drummer Lewis Young at Bournemouth University during the mid-2000s. Eventually joined by bassist Ben Smith, the trio set forth as The Males and were soon drawing attention and eager ears towards their noise bred rock ‘n’ roll. With inspirations from the likes of Shellac, Black Sabbath, Jesus Lizard, Fugazi, The Melvins, the Misfits, Refused, Queens of the Stone Age and AC/DC spicing up their invention, the London based trio uncaged a self-titled demo in 2012, a raw and unruly incitement of sound sparking the imagination and a growing spread of fans. The single Wolves followed in the October of 2013 with a teaser from their debut EP, Golden Gates touching ears earlier this year. All has helped inspire keen anticipation for the new EP, an appetite easily and potently fed by Her Golden Blood and its potential drenched roar.

Opening track Cut Her Off from its first breath leads ears and feet into its immediate inescapable bait, punchy rhythms and raw riffing leading to addictive behaviour upon which sonic designs and the strong vocals add extra tempting. THE MALES EP MASTERThe song flirts with hints of bands, though the ones which most spring to mind and certainly not influences on The Males being as new as they, is Feud and The St Pierre Snake Invasion. There is an expectations feeding aspect to the song in some ways but also a more prominent refreshing energy and coarse rabidity. It is a tenacious encounter with caustic melodies, increasingly dramatic rhythms, and a glaze of sonic enticement simply luring the listener in further.

The track is a strong and masterful start to the EP which the following Golden Gates backs up solidly. It wraps tendrils of sonic coaxing around ears first, an acidic scuzz lined lure which is soon joined by weighty rhythms and an even bigger bass incitement, its tones bulging with devilish intent. The vocals again bring an expressive and eager revelry to the highly satisfying encounter though ultimately there is not quite the same spark of imagination to the body of the song as its predecessor. It certainly offers enough to intrigue and keep thoughts on their toes though, especially to the latter stroll of the track where it seems to find a more virulent persuasion with an irresistible groove.

The final song Hot Blood has an old school punk flavouring to its fiery waltz of moody basslines, agitated rhythms, and squalling riffs. It is hard to define who it reminds of but there is definitely a nostalgic tang to the track which colours its impressive enticing even more potently. The best track on the release, it is a compelling protagonist to imagination and ears, a track which hints at riots and brawls with its energy yet resorts to primal seduction for the main to ignite once again an already greedy appetite.

Her Golden Blood is not going to lead to declarations of The Males being the next big thing but it undoubtedly has the potential and weight to earn the band a stronger spotlight and reputation in their continuing ascent.

The Her Golden Blood EP is available now @ http://males.bandcamp.com/

http://themal.es/

8/10

RingMaster 21/07/2014

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

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

http://audioburger247.webs.com/