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
Illusion of Choice draws on the grungier side of the Temple of Lies sound, fusing it with their ever ferocious and enticing blend of metal. Instantly the track is on the boisterous balls of its feet, rhythms scything and riffs snarling as vocals and hooks collude in a virulent temptation with a touch of Disturbed meets Spineshank to its short but fiercely persuasive body before Modus Operandi lays down its individual creative intent. Often tempting like a fusion of Monster Magnet and Suicidal Tendencies, the track has ears and imagination hooked in no time, every twist a captivating moment, each turn a fresh treat merging the familiar with the unpredictable; an essence which applies to the whole of The Serial Killer Suite.
The gentle melodic opening of Get Your Fight On! is a suggestive pull next which intrigues more than ignites the imagination but soon leads into the waiting rhythmic prowess of Lombardo and the sonic enterprise of Pleasants and Pogan. It too works its way from a relatively calm tempting to an incendiary blaze where it really grabs the appetite and passions as heavy metal flames unite with punk and thrash dexterity for an anthem which might not hold all the sparks of its predecessors but leaves only an eager want to delve into its cauldron all over again.
From the hungrily abrasive and riotous punk ‘n’ roll of Gervigleði er ógleði, the album has ears and appetite in league with its ferocious intent. It is a great opener quickly matched in success and persuasion by the thrash prowl of Fullur á Facebook. Grooves and hooks collude with rapier like swings from Stjuni in the second song, luring in the listener before uncaging a ravenous assault and devilment reminding of the crossover thrash sounds of the previously mentioned California hailing band.
The dramatic invention continues with Dominus Caeli, a track opening with a flirtatiously seductive bassline from Lorenzo ‘Tarzan’ Colucci which then incites further jazz/funk exploits from rhythms and guitar. Like an abrasive fusion of Toumaï and Trepalium, the track grumbles and rumbles with punk lined irritability whilst creating an unstoppable and virulent contagion of grooves and raucous aggression. Further building to a hungry prowl courted by unhinged vocal teasing, the song is a thrilling slice of rabid, in sound and invention, metal fired rock ‘n’ roll.
Tony 5 swaggers in next, its body similarly spawned to that of its predecessor but swiftly sharing its own consuming tenacity. As biting rhythms and swinging grooves embrace the excellent mix of clean and aggressively rasping vocals, the song is a cantankerous affair but with a body of spiralling twists and sonic resourcefulness which makes other’s references to bands such as System Of A Down and Gojira understandable. As the first, the track is a ravenous swamping of ears with superb clarity within its smothering touch for the swarm of progressive tenacity within to equally entice and shine.
Catching the anthemic essences of thrash and punk in one almighty invitation, it is a thrilling start potently backed straight away by the even more hostile Lemon Eyed Devil and the following irritability of Angle Disruption. The first of the two is sheer primal virulence, vocals and grooves a spiteful bait against the fiercely provocative muscles of Jason ‘Cranswick’ Mosdell’s swings and Stuart ’Jonny Goler’ Carruthers predatory bass lines. Its punk rabidity is matched by that of its successor, a song with a bee in its bonnet and malevolence in its breath. Again though, every hook and rhythmic swipe seems to have a devious contagion matched by grooves and riffs, an enslavement of ears and imagination upon which the vocal squalls impressively vent.