Band: Red Fang
Album: Murder The Mountains
Label: Relapse
Year: 2011
Oregon's Red Fang first got my attention a few years back when their LARPing-themed music video for the excellent "Prehistoric Dog"single made the rounds on the internet. The EP which contained that devastating track, as well as an earlier one, were promising releases by a good heavy rock band on their way up, but did not match the awesomeness of their shining moment. Still, it was enough to get them signed to Relapse, and high expectations have followed. With their new full-length Murder the Mountains now available to the world, its time to see if these guys really have what it takes to deliver the goods.
I'm happy to report that Red Fang has ripped out one of the most enjoyable rock records of 2011, tinkering with their basic formula just enough to demonstrate real musical growth while playing to the group's strengths and laying down a pounding assault that does keg stands on your ear drums. They've even been kind enough to make another, equally hilarious music video for their single, the massively overdriven twin-lead guitar collossus "Wired." Working strictly from a palette of exclusively fuzz-guitar abusing 70's van music by way of late 80's and early 90's grunge and alternative rock, Red Fang do not dress their music up with psychedelic flourishes or progressive instrumental pyrotechnics. Everything here sounds lean, hard and powerful. The performances have a live feel to them that sounds as natural as practice pad jam session. It's just that the musicians are good enough and their material interesting enough so as to give a professional polish to the band's rampaging assault.
Although they play up the image of beer guzzling dirtbags in their videos, these guys clearly care about the craft of music. Their tight, well-arranged brand of stoner rock is beyond the grasp of most garden variety pot heads, even if they are too enamoured by a half with some of their influences. In particular, sludge trudges like "Malverde" betray a Melvins influence so obvious that they wouldn't sound out of place on Stoner Witch. More often however, the band's ability to shift tempos and cadences, not to mention building to powerful eruptions of guitar/bass,/drums brings some much-needed variety to their previously vanilla hard rock. When they put the elements together, as on the fucking killer "Dirt Wizard," Red Fang prove themselves to be capable of great things. Now all that remains is for them to further refine their vision.
The record sounds great, and the association with Relapse is notable in that Murder the Mountains sounds as if it had some money backing it. Chris Funk gives the band a slick sheen that retains much of the rawness inherent in their sound, allowing them to be both clear and heavy. Some prospective rock fans might be turned off by what they feel is a radio-friendly mix, but honestly I think Relapse is smart enough to know radio won't touch a band like Red Fang anyways. If their straightforward approach alienates a few metalheads by being a little too 'middle of the road' for some, most music fans who can appreciate a great riff, powerful vocal hook or crushing groove will find much to like here.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Stupid
"(The Norwegian massacre) is nothing compared to what happens in McDonalds and Kentucky Fried shit every day" - Morrissey
I fucking hate that guy.
I fucking hate that guy.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Econo
Record collecting is an expensive hobby. Anyone who has ever paid good money for a record that didn't deliver the goods, or was forced to swallow a hefty price tag to take home that special limited edition knows what I'm talking about. But not every record that is worth owning has to cost an arm and a leg. Either due to over-saturation of the marketplace or perceived musical mediocrity, the following records can easily be found in your local used section for a handful of change each. Some of these are worth having for a song or two, and others are solid albums throughout. In any event, picking up one of these classic rock staples won't break the bank, and all will make a solid addition to any rock fan's collection.
Alice Cooper, Killer, (1971) - Alice Cooper (the band) released this collection of vicious motor city glam rock on the heels of their Love It To Death breakthrough. It's not totally flawless, but solid, sleazy rockers like "Under My Wheels," "Be My Lover" and 'You Drive Me Nervous" are as tough and immediate as anything in the catalog, while "Dead Babies" was a live favourite at the time. I suppose the absence of a big hit along the lines of "School's Out" or "I'm Eighteen" is the reason that this record is so easy to find second-hand, even though it was released smack dab in the middle of the band's 1970-1973 peak. This run ended with the very good Billion Dollar Babies, a bargain-bin staple as well.
Blue Öyster Cult, Tyranny & Mutation, (1973) - For some reason the first three BOC records (recognizable by their black and white covers) are always in the bargain bin. These are the best records the band ever made. On these tight, heavy and well-arranged records, Blue Öyster Cult established themselves as one of the only American proto-metal bands capable of going toe-to-toe with the mighty British arena lords that dominated heavy rock in the mid '70s. Tyranny & Mutation sports some of the band's true classics, opening with the one-two punch of "The Red and The Black" and "OD'ed on Life Itself." There isn't a weak track on the album, and "Seven Screaming Diz-Busters" perhaps best exemplifies how these brainy bruisers could marry a heavy gut-punch attack to complex musicianship.
Creedence Clearwater Revival, Cosmo's Factory, (1970) - No question this is the best CCR record. Hot, swampy rock n' roll has never been done any better. It opens with one of their gnarliest jams in "Ramble Tamble" and about two thirds of the songs are staples on the various greatest hits compilations that exist.
Deep Purple, Burn, (1974) - Burn was Deep Purple's first record after the departure of Ian Gillan and Roger Glover, but it was actually a better album than almost anyone could have expected. The title track is a phenomenal six-minute assault featuring scorching guitar and organ work by the band's two powerful lead voices, John Lord and Richie Blackmore. For that song alone it is worth owning. New singer David Coverdale gives a solid performance to boot, and there are plenty of other worthwile rockers here.
Jethro Tull, Benefit, (1970) - I bought this purely because it contained the leslie-damaged prog-rocker "To Cry You A Song." The rest is a great representation of Tull's complex amalgamation of heavy space-folk-blues. To be honest, these guys have a lot of overlooked records, and if you are a fan of one, its a safe bet you'll like plenty more. The 1970-1975 period is all good, and intermittently they have good songs and records before and after that.
Lynyrd Skynyrd, Street Survivors, (1977) - Street Survivors was released just a few days before the tragic plane crash which killed singer Ronnie Van Zandt and guitarist Steve Gaines. Its been hard to overlook that grim fact when listening to the album, the band's darkest. "That Smell" in particular reeks of death and foreboding. Meanwhile, "What's Your Name" is still in frequent rotation on classic rock stations. The definitive southern rock band, no one ever combined crunching arena-rock dynamics with countified outlaw swagger like these boys did, and this record is one of their best. There is plenty of heavy boogie to be found within these grooves, as Skynyrd came up with its best batch of songs since their breakthrough record, Second Helping. It might not have been intended as a farewell to the classic lineup, but it still makes for one hell of a memorial.
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Re-ac-tor (1981) - The early '80s is usually thought of as a fallow period for Neil creatively, as his musical muse frequently took a back seat to various personal, legal and political concerns. Still, the man and his iconic backing band were just two years removed from their astonishing Rust Never Sleeps album and tour, and its not as though they forgot how to play in that time. Crazy Horse's trademark troglodyte stomp is all over Re-ac-tor, and Young wails on his guitar throughout, seemingly in love with coaxing as many different sounds as possible out of his instrument. The album does suffer from a lack of melodic inspiration and some rather stupid songwriting (The nine-minute "T-Bone" is by far the worst offender) but "Shots" is one of Young's best jams with Crazy Horse. To those who don't care for Young's country and folk inclinations, this should be right up your alley; the whole album is packed with lumbering, shambolic hard rock. Re-ac-tor is not a first-rate Neil Young record by any means, but if you can pick it up for a few bucks you won't be disappointed.
Pink Floyd, Obscured By Clouds, (1972) - Obscured By Clouds, like Music From the Film: More, is a soundtrack to a movie I have never seen. It is an often-overlooked entry in Floyd's intimidating discography, particularly because it happened to precede Dark Side of The Moon, and is rarely mentioned today. Despite, or perhaps because of this, its always been one of my favourite entries. From the fuzzy organ drones that open the record to the ethereal vocal chants which close it, Obscured By Clouds is a compelling example of the powerful cinematic quality and pristine sound of the band's best work.
Robin Trower, For Earth Below, (1975) - Although it lacks any of the standout tracks which marked Trower's breakthrough record, Bridge of Sighs, For Earth Below is probably the next-best effort in his whole discography. Highlighting Trower's smooth, liquid virtuosity and adding a subtle funkiness to the arrangements, the songs on here are solid throughout. Personally I'll be far more likely to throw this one than any other Trower album on and listen to it front to back. The first side is particularly strong, with "Shame The Devil" and the title track illustrating the gorgeous colours with which Trower loved to paint his sound creations.
Rush, Caress Of Steel, (1975) - Rush's fantastical 12-minute sorcery rock epic "The Necromancer" is itself worth the price of admission. The multi-part suite goes from virtual silence to screaming lead guitar breaks and heavy-death grip riffs and finally to a triumphant finale, telling throughout a tale of adventure which would do Tolkien proud. That magnificent song notwithstanding, "Lakeside Park" and "Bastille Day" are upbeat rockers that rank easily with the best of early-period Rush's work, though "I'm Going Bald" is too silly for its own good. Side 2's "The Fountain of Lamenth" is the band's first stab at a sidelong composition, and it does have its share of interesting moments which includes some particularly excellent bass playing by Geddy Lee. Caress of Steel is easily the best of the first three Rush albums.
ZZ Top, Fandango! (1975) - One half studio, one half live, and all great. The live material features a storming take on Elvis' "Jailhouse Rock," while the studio side is a worthy followup to Tres Hombres. In particular, the John Lee Hooker boogie of "Tush" would go on to become one of the band's most enduring and recognizable songs. After Tres Hombres and Eliminator, this is the record that all ZZ Top fans should own.
Alice Cooper, Killer, (1971) - Alice Cooper (the band) released this collection of vicious motor city glam rock on the heels of their Love It To Death breakthrough. It's not totally flawless, but solid, sleazy rockers like "Under My Wheels," "Be My Lover" and 'You Drive Me Nervous" are as tough and immediate as anything in the catalog, while "Dead Babies" was a live favourite at the time. I suppose the absence of a big hit along the lines of "School's Out" or "I'm Eighteen" is the reason that this record is so easy to find second-hand, even though it was released smack dab in the middle of the band's 1970-1973 peak. This run ended with the very good Billion Dollar Babies, a bargain-bin staple as well.
Blue Öyster Cult, Tyranny & Mutation, (1973) - For some reason the first three BOC records (recognizable by their black and white covers) are always in the bargain bin. These are the best records the band ever made. On these tight, heavy and well-arranged records, Blue Öyster Cult established themselves as one of the only American proto-metal bands capable of going toe-to-toe with the mighty British arena lords that dominated heavy rock in the mid '70s. Tyranny & Mutation sports some of the band's true classics, opening with the one-two punch of "The Red and The Black" and "OD'ed on Life Itself." There isn't a weak track on the album, and "Seven Screaming Diz-Busters" perhaps best exemplifies how these brainy bruisers could marry a heavy gut-punch attack to complex musicianship.
Creedence Clearwater Revival, Cosmo's Factory, (1970) - No question this is the best CCR record. Hot, swampy rock n' roll has never been done any better. It opens with one of their gnarliest jams in "Ramble Tamble" and about two thirds of the songs are staples on the various greatest hits compilations that exist.
Deep Purple, Burn, (1974) - Burn was Deep Purple's first record after the departure of Ian Gillan and Roger Glover, but it was actually a better album than almost anyone could have expected. The title track is a phenomenal six-minute assault featuring scorching guitar and organ work by the band's two powerful lead voices, John Lord and Richie Blackmore. For that song alone it is worth owning. New singer David Coverdale gives a solid performance to boot, and there are plenty of other worthwile rockers here.
Jethro Tull, Benefit, (1970) - I bought this purely because it contained the leslie-damaged prog-rocker "To Cry You A Song." The rest is a great representation of Tull's complex amalgamation of heavy space-folk-blues. To be honest, these guys have a lot of overlooked records, and if you are a fan of one, its a safe bet you'll like plenty more. The 1970-1975 period is all good, and intermittently they have good songs and records before and after that.
Lynyrd Skynyrd, Street Survivors, (1977) - Street Survivors was released just a few days before the tragic plane crash which killed singer Ronnie Van Zandt and guitarist Steve Gaines. Its been hard to overlook that grim fact when listening to the album, the band's darkest. "That Smell" in particular reeks of death and foreboding. Meanwhile, "What's Your Name" is still in frequent rotation on classic rock stations. The definitive southern rock band, no one ever combined crunching arena-rock dynamics with countified outlaw swagger like these boys did, and this record is one of their best. There is plenty of heavy boogie to be found within these grooves, as Skynyrd came up with its best batch of songs since their breakthrough record, Second Helping. It might not have been intended as a farewell to the classic lineup, but it still makes for one hell of a memorial.
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Re-ac-tor (1981) - The early '80s is usually thought of as a fallow period for Neil creatively, as his musical muse frequently took a back seat to various personal, legal and political concerns. Still, the man and his iconic backing band were just two years removed from their astonishing Rust Never Sleeps album and tour, and its not as though they forgot how to play in that time. Crazy Horse's trademark troglodyte stomp is all over Re-ac-tor, and Young wails on his guitar throughout, seemingly in love with coaxing as many different sounds as possible out of his instrument. The album does suffer from a lack of melodic inspiration and some rather stupid songwriting (The nine-minute "T-Bone" is by far the worst offender) but "Shots" is one of Young's best jams with Crazy Horse. To those who don't care for Young's country and folk inclinations, this should be right up your alley; the whole album is packed with lumbering, shambolic hard rock. Re-ac-tor is not a first-rate Neil Young record by any means, but if you can pick it up for a few bucks you won't be disappointed.
Pink Floyd, Obscured By Clouds, (1972) - Obscured By Clouds, like Music From the Film: More, is a soundtrack to a movie I have never seen. It is an often-overlooked entry in Floyd's intimidating discography, particularly because it happened to precede Dark Side of The Moon, and is rarely mentioned today. Despite, or perhaps because of this, its always been one of my favourite entries. From the fuzzy organ drones that open the record to the ethereal vocal chants which close it, Obscured By Clouds is a compelling example of the powerful cinematic quality and pristine sound of the band's best work.
Robin Trower, For Earth Below, (1975) - Although it lacks any of the standout tracks which marked Trower's breakthrough record, Bridge of Sighs, For Earth Below is probably the next-best effort in his whole discography. Highlighting Trower's smooth, liquid virtuosity and adding a subtle funkiness to the arrangements, the songs on here are solid throughout. Personally I'll be far more likely to throw this one than any other Trower album on and listen to it front to back. The first side is particularly strong, with "Shame The Devil" and the title track illustrating the gorgeous colours with which Trower loved to paint his sound creations.
Rush, Caress Of Steel, (1975) - Rush's fantastical 12-minute sorcery rock epic "The Necromancer" is itself worth the price of admission. The multi-part suite goes from virtual silence to screaming lead guitar breaks and heavy-death grip riffs and finally to a triumphant finale, telling throughout a tale of adventure which would do Tolkien proud. That magnificent song notwithstanding, "Lakeside Park" and "Bastille Day" are upbeat rockers that rank easily with the best of early-period Rush's work, though "I'm Going Bald" is too silly for its own good. Side 2's "The Fountain of Lamenth" is the band's first stab at a sidelong composition, and it does have its share of interesting moments which includes some particularly excellent bass playing by Geddy Lee. Caress of Steel is easily the best of the first three Rush albums.
ZZ Top, Fandango! (1975) - One half studio, one half live, and all great. The live material features a storming take on Elvis' "Jailhouse Rock," while the studio side is a worthy followup to Tres Hombres. In particular, the John Lee Hooker boogie of "Tush" would go on to become one of the band's most enduring and recognizable songs. After Tres Hombres and Eliminator, this is the record that all ZZ Top fans should own.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Wishbone Ash - Wishbone Four
Band: Wishbone Ash
Album: Wishbone Four
Label: MCA
Year: 1973
Wishbone Ash's stately amalgamation of folk, jazz, rock and progressive tendencies is vividly displayed on their most concise and direct album. Wishbone Four was their attempt to crack the North American market after establishing themselves in the first class of British rock bands with their previous album Argus. As such, it was suitably their hardest rocking effort, relatively free of Argus's pastoral English folk influence and progressive arrangements, as well as dialing back the medieval lyrical themes somewhat. Each side kicks off with a full tilt rocker, followed by a moody slow-builder that climaxes with a dramatic lead guitar section. "So Many Things To Say" and "The Doctor" both showcase the band's complex musical interplay while hitting as hard as any songs in the band's repertoire. The band's facility with melodic guitar solos is the focus on these songs, with lead guitars dueling aggressively over a dextrous rhythm section. "Ballad of the Beacon" is a lovely melodic rocker that climaxes with a memorable solo, as does "Sorrel", where all four musicians rock expressively in a mellow jam. "No Easy Road" is another compelling rave-up that even features a classic early '70s Stones-style horn and piano rocker arrangement. There are solid songs throughout the record, and in particular "Rock & Roll Widow" is a lilting outlaw tale featuring ethereal slide guitar, and also delivers the album's most memorable hook.
Drummer Steve Upton throughout demonstrates great range in moods as he hammers together a complex structure for his bandmates in a manner akin to Bill Bruford, but he can also call to mind Keith Moon's unsophisticated intensity with his heavy tom rolls. Bassist Martin Turner alternates nimble bass patterns in the higher registers of his instrument with slow, supportive beds for the guitarists to solo over. The vocals consist predominantly of appealing harmonies and lyrics that seem to conjure up memories of some fantastical past age that never existed. They do not ever really get heavy, but the highly melodic lead guitar interplay between Ted Turner and Andy Powell is the chief appeal of this band.
There are a few missteps, as the ballads on each side come off as slightly saccharine and tend to bore. "Everybody Needs A Friend" in particular is notable for being way too long at almost 9 minutes. This one glaring flaw aside, these songs are all well-crafted, highly formal compositions. With commercial concerns clearly in mind, Wishbone Four features the clearest production of any of the band's albums up until that point. Moreover, its constituent parts are more comfortably rock rather than folk or progressive-based as on their earlier records. The guitarists use a wider variety of effects than on previous albums, with more aggressively overdriven distortion and liberal use of the wah-pedal replacing the neo-classical flourishes of Argus. The combination of solid compositions and impressive musicianship makes this a solid entry point into the band's discography.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Playlist
New Music For Old People (aka the new classic rock)
White Stripes - Hello Operator
Hives - Hate To Say I Told You So
Modey Lemon - Feed The Babies
Black Lips - Hippie Hippie Hooray!
The Mooney Suzuki - In A Young Man's Mind
Black Keys - 10AM Automatic
Brian Jonestown Massacre - Open Heart Sugery
My Morning Jacket - One Big Holiday
Magnolia Electric Co. - Dark Don't Hide It
Nebula - Atomic Ritual
Comets On Fire - Pussy Foot The Duke
Black Mountain - Don't Run Our Hearts Around
Dead Meadow - At Her Open Door
Witchcraft - It's So Easy
Wolfmother - Where Eagles Have Been
The Sword - Freya
Witch - The Seer
Litmus - Rays Of Sonic Light
Earthless - Cherry Red
Awesome Color - Transparent
Thee Oh Sees - Ruby
Wino - Release Me
Priestess - Lay Down
Ladyhawk - I Don't Always Know What You're Saying
Red Cedar - Take It Back
Woods - Rain On
Astra - Ouroboros
I made this partially because I hate it when people say, "there's no good music anymore," or "music was way better in...(whatever time music was way better)." More importantly, I made this for my Dad. He's been surprising me lately. He's discovered Youtube since retiring and is getting onto all kinds of old bands he missed out on. He wanted to know about Motorhead the other day! I figured it'd be a while yet before he got to anything made in this decade unless I gave him some help.
White Stripes - Hello Operator
Hives - Hate To Say I Told You So
Modey Lemon - Feed The Babies
Black Lips - Hippie Hippie Hooray!
The Mooney Suzuki - In A Young Man's Mind
Black Keys - 10AM Automatic
Brian Jonestown Massacre - Open Heart Sugery
My Morning Jacket - One Big Holiday
Magnolia Electric Co. - Dark Don't Hide It
Nebula - Atomic Ritual
Comets On Fire - Pussy Foot The Duke
Black Mountain - Don't Run Our Hearts Around
Dead Meadow - At Her Open Door
Witchcraft - It's So Easy
Wolfmother - Where Eagles Have Been
The Sword - Freya
Witch - The Seer
Litmus - Rays Of Sonic Light
Earthless - Cherry Red
Awesome Color - Transparent
Thee Oh Sees - Ruby
Wino - Release Me
Priestess - Lay Down
Ladyhawk - I Don't Always Know What You're Saying
Red Cedar - Take It Back
Woods - Rain On
Astra - Ouroboros
I made this partially because I hate it when people say, "there's no good music anymore," or "music was way better in...(whatever time music was way better)." More importantly, I made this for my Dad. He's been surprising me lately. He's discovered Youtube since retiring and is getting onto all kinds of old bands he missed out on. He wanted to know about Motorhead the other day! I figured it'd be a while yet before he got to anything made in this decade unless I gave him some help.
Recap
So I'm back from Calgary's second annual Sled Island music festival. Due to lack of funds, I was only able to purchase a single-day wristband instead of staying for the whole event. What a trip it was though... I suppose I'll just recap the whole thing from the beginning. If you just we want to get to the bands I saw, skip ahead about three paragraphs, most of this is narrative for my own benefit.
I left on a bus at 12:30 on Wednesday night, a mode of transportation that guarantees a healthy mix of itinerant labourers, homeless alcoholics and haggard-looking teen moms. Somehow I managed to stay sane over the 18 hour journey, though I suppose I owe my survival to a mix of Irvine Welsh's novel Porno and a contraband bottle of rye. Arriving Thursday evening, I immediately had to orient myself in a city I haven't visited since I was 12. Luckily, with typical Albertan pragmatism, Calgary is laid out in a grid system with numbered streets and avenues and divided into quadrants. Without too much trouble I was able to meet up with my good friend Noah the White, and negotiate access to a show he was doing sound for as his assistant.
The fact that the band playing was none other than my dear friends Red Cedar did not hurt my chances at getting in. The Vancouver boys gave a typically strong performance to a rather sparse crowd, with their hazy roots-rock shuffles and rustic country twang going over well with the locals. The performance was somewhat subdued by their standards, but it fit the intimate room they played in and the relaxed atmosphere of a beautiful summer evening. Lead guitarist J.P. Doucet ripped out his gritty Neil Young-isms over a gorgeous bed of Leslie organ laid down by Bruce Ledingham. Their sunny, expansive jams were a perfect antidote to a long trip in a sweaty, confined bus. The group's harmonies were as tight and tuneful as I have yet heard, although gonzo drummer Colin Jones didn't wield the mighty hammer of Thor quite so heavily as I am accustomed to seeing him do. I suppose his trademark thunderblitzes would not have fit the mood of this particularly quixotic evening, but I am looking forward to seeing them make a triumphant return to Vancouver's finest venue, the Biltmore. That place always seems to bring out the heaviness in those boys. They are in the middle of a tour of Western Canada right now, getting tight and road-tested like all good bands must. Look for a new record from them some time this year.
The Cedar boys and I adjourned to our hotel room to drop off gear after the show.They were kind enough to let my crash there for free... their room at the Fairmont was being sprung for by none other than mister Chad Kroeger's 604 records. They were being paid to back an artist on that labels roster for a few shows at the festival, and a posh hotel was part of the deal. We were sure to raid the minibar. An unexpected bonus was the fact that many other musicians were staying in the same hotel, so I enjoyed chance encounters various musicians throughout our stay. Although my buddies were out to party, I was too exhausted to do much. I spent a little while walking around the city on my own to get familiar with my surroundings and picked up a case of beer, from which I proceeded to donate refreshments to a couple thirsty members of Oakland fuzz rockers Drunk Horse as they hung out in the lobby. I also managed to make a fool out of myself by accosting Lee Ronaldo on the street. I rarely get star-struck, but he's just so freaking cool. I probably could have reunited with my buddies in Red Cedar and joined them in getting trashed with members of the defunct Vancouver bong-thrashers Bogus Tokus who had curated the festival, as well as Matt Pike and Al Cisneros of Sleep, (and High On Fire and Om respectively) who happen to be two of my personal heroes. But instead I showered and went to bed. Drag.
Friday morning saw us longhairs out in the hotel in force. We were harassed by security for taking advantage of the spa options available to us. Bunch of dirtbags we are!
Ah yes, the shows. We began with a workshop on unconventional guitar techniques led by Sonic Youth godhead Lee Ronaldo at an art speace down town. I suppose if you spend decades dedicating your life to expanding the vocabulary of an instrument you'll pick up a few tricks along the way, but what I witnessed was still astonishing. He began by playing some videos of various performances, then proceeded to unleash a 25 minute storm of sound that peeled paint from the walls, all the while never fretting a single note. Here is an example of the kind of stuff he was doing. It simply consisted of him exploring the properties of the instrument in every way except playing it normally. He bowed the strings, hit it body with his fists, played cell phone messages through the pickups, created feedback loops and fed everything through an array of warping devices only he could comprehend, the whole time coaxing unimaginable sounds from his instrument. It was a magnificent performance from one of the instrument's most idiosyncratic and daring practitioners.
Across town we dropped into a pub so crowded I could only stand in the doorway with the stage out of my line of sight. Fortunately, Dead Meadow are loud enough that I could have heard them playing from the Saddledome. The power trio's heady stomp can transport listeners to fantasy realms like few else, and guitarist Jason Simon is the wah-pedal's foremost practitioner today. Dude uses two... don't ask me why. Steve Kille meanwhile worked his bass aggressively in and out of Simon's clouds of sound, but was always right there when it was time to hammer the riff home. People have referred to their sound as being similar to shoegaze, and though their dense wall of fuzz owes much to volume abusers like the Spacemen 3 and My Bloody Valentine Dead Meadow's jams are too hot and aggressively psychedelic to sink into stoned lethargy, despite what the band's detractor's often claim. The many layers of sound that the listener must penetrate are a sonic signifier for the band, but the musicianship here is top notch. Simon and Kille are master jammers, constantly exploring every colour suggested by their deceptively simple phrases and while pummeling the heaviest of riffs. They did a set loaded with old favourites, probably because they've recently been rejoined by original drummer Mark McLaughlin, and were in peak form throughout. Those guys bring it on stage all the time, every time.
I saw C'mon later in the afternoon on the main stage, and though I am not familiar with them, I was impressed. The power trio did a raging take on biker rock that served as a good accompaniment for beers in the afternoon. They were raw, powerful and sludgy, although perhaps they betrayed a bit of a lack of melodic inspiration. The songs did become samey after a while, but their set was short, powerful and enjoyable, ending before there was time for monotony to become apparent. A good, rockin' take on hard boogie that is seldom re-visited in this day and age.
Vancouver metal gods Bison hit the stage to entertain a small but enthusiastic crowd that happily lapped up the band's sludgy thrash. As usual, this band proved themselves a force of nature onstage, and is truly in a league with any metal band going right now. This is my first time seeing them since they got a new drummer, (they remain on friendly terms with the original skin-basher, who could be seen happily watching the set from the side of the stage) and there has been a noticeable tightening-up of their sound. The new guy looks completely psychotic while playing, another bonus. Where once these heshers added a good dose of groove to their metal, they now employ a more rigid and straight forward metallic attack. If anything, they've become more brutal, but they have not lost the crushing hyper riff attack and ability to downshift into gutpunching chugging rhythms that has always been their trademark. The solos from both lead guitarists were creative and intense, and the hardcore-influenced gang vocals full-throated and powerful. The set was comprised of songs from their last 2 excellent albums, Quiet Earth and Dark Ages, and the superiority of their material was immediately apparent. An excellent band that continues to develop its singular voice organically, these guys should continue to rupture ear drums for many years to come.
I'm not exactly a huge fan of the Buzzcocks, but they do have a handful of songs I enjoy. It's cool that such a legendary punk band would come to Calgary, but truth be told they seemed a little out of place amid all the heavies on the bill. Still, the crowd seemed happy to pogo along to crunchy pop-punk classics like "What Do I Get" and "Ever Fallen In Love." There were a few missteps in the set, making the band come off as under-rehearsed. Sharing a stage with so many younger, hungrier and more technically accomplished bands threw these mishaps into sharper relief, but the guys got over on enthusiasm and seemed to really be enjoying themselves. Aside from Pete Shelley, I have no idea how many members were from the classic late '70s lineup, so its possible there were some new members still getting comfortable with the set. Still, they did all the songs I had hoped to hear from them and delivered a totally satisfactory and enjoyable performance.
Texan myth-metal warriors The Sword hit the stage next, and their bludgeoning attack prompted a violent moshpit reaction from some members of the crowd. Unfortunately, their set was heavy on material from their most recent album, the disappointing Warp Riders. The disparity in quality between it and their first two albums was made even more apparent onstage. The set therefore came across as disjointed, as excellent fantasy themed sludge metal classics like "Freya", "Iron Swan" and "Black River" were interspersed with completely unmemorable dross. The performances were tight though, so even poor songs were somewhat enjoyable, and I must note that the bassist was intensely eye-fucking every member of the audience like vintage Nikki Sixx. Here's hoping these guys come through with some better songs on their next go-around.
I'll deal with Sleep's set in another essay. It was the best show I've ever seen.
Quest For Fire had the unenviable task of playing right after Sleep at a cramped underground venue across the street from the main stage. It was apparent that the band was doubly disappointed with their slot, because they clearly would have liked to have been at the Sleep show themselves. Nonetheless, they worked hard to put on a solid show, and their hazy psych builds served as a good come down from the relentless heaviness of Sleep. The crowd grooved as the band's crescendo-laden set ebbed and flowed. At times their fuzzy atmospherics did get a little faceless, a problem the Toronto quartet has on record, but for the most part an enjoyable show.
A friend and I ducked out of the venue to grab some air and a slice of pizza, but when we got back the venue was full, so we missed out on seeing Portland booze rockers Red Fang. That didn't really bother me, as I met up with some good friends, and we spent the rest of the night swigging red wine and reflecting on Sleep's astonishing set. A perfect end to what might be the greatest day of my life.
I left for home the following day, but not before paying a visit to Sloth Records, a great little store with a whole bunch of 80s underground and alternative rock, plus a pretty healthy selection of Hawkwind vinyl to boot.
I left on a bus at 12:30 on Wednesday night, a mode of transportation that guarantees a healthy mix of itinerant labourers, homeless alcoholics and haggard-looking teen moms. Somehow I managed to stay sane over the 18 hour journey, though I suppose I owe my survival to a mix of Irvine Welsh's novel Porno and a contraband bottle of rye. Arriving Thursday evening, I immediately had to orient myself in a city I haven't visited since I was 12. Luckily, with typical Albertan pragmatism, Calgary is laid out in a grid system with numbered streets and avenues and divided into quadrants. Without too much trouble I was able to meet up with my good friend Noah the White, and negotiate access to a show he was doing sound for as his assistant.
The fact that the band playing was none other than my dear friends Red Cedar did not hurt my chances at getting in. The Vancouver boys gave a typically strong performance to a rather sparse crowd, with their hazy roots-rock shuffles and rustic country twang going over well with the locals. The performance was somewhat subdued by their standards, but it fit the intimate room they played in and the relaxed atmosphere of a beautiful summer evening. Lead guitarist J.P. Doucet ripped out his gritty Neil Young-isms over a gorgeous bed of Leslie organ laid down by Bruce Ledingham. Their sunny, expansive jams were a perfect antidote to a long trip in a sweaty, confined bus. The group's harmonies were as tight and tuneful as I have yet heard, although gonzo drummer Colin Jones didn't wield the mighty hammer of Thor quite so heavily as I am accustomed to seeing him do. I suppose his trademark thunderblitzes would not have fit the mood of this particularly quixotic evening, but I am looking forward to seeing them make a triumphant return to Vancouver's finest venue, the Biltmore. That place always seems to bring out the heaviness in those boys. They are in the middle of a tour of Western Canada right now, getting tight and road-tested like all good bands must. Look for a new record from them some time this year.
The Cedar boys and I adjourned to our hotel room to drop off gear after the show.They were kind enough to let my crash there for free... their room at the Fairmont was being sprung for by none other than mister Chad Kroeger's 604 records. They were being paid to back an artist on that labels roster for a few shows at the festival, and a posh hotel was part of the deal. We were sure to raid the minibar. An unexpected bonus was the fact that many other musicians were staying in the same hotel, so I enjoyed chance encounters various musicians throughout our stay. Although my buddies were out to party, I was too exhausted to do much. I spent a little while walking around the city on my own to get familiar with my surroundings and picked up a case of beer, from which I proceeded to donate refreshments to a couple thirsty members of Oakland fuzz rockers Drunk Horse as they hung out in the lobby. I also managed to make a fool out of myself by accosting Lee Ronaldo on the street. I rarely get star-struck, but he's just so freaking cool. I probably could have reunited with my buddies in Red Cedar and joined them in getting trashed with members of the defunct Vancouver bong-thrashers Bogus Tokus who had curated the festival, as well as Matt Pike and Al Cisneros of Sleep, (and High On Fire and Om respectively) who happen to be two of my personal heroes. But instead I showered and went to bed. Drag.
Friday morning saw us longhairs out in the hotel in force. We were harassed by security for taking advantage of the spa options available to us. Bunch of dirtbags we are!
Ah yes, the shows. We began with a workshop on unconventional guitar techniques led by Sonic Youth godhead Lee Ronaldo at an art speace down town. I suppose if you spend decades dedicating your life to expanding the vocabulary of an instrument you'll pick up a few tricks along the way, but what I witnessed was still astonishing. He began by playing some videos of various performances, then proceeded to unleash a 25 minute storm of sound that peeled paint from the walls, all the while never fretting a single note. Here is an example of the kind of stuff he was doing. It simply consisted of him exploring the properties of the instrument in every way except playing it normally. He bowed the strings, hit it body with his fists, played cell phone messages through the pickups, created feedback loops and fed everything through an array of warping devices only he could comprehend, the whole time coaxing unimaginable sounds from his instrument. It was a magnificent performance from one of the instrument's most idiosyncratic and daring practitioners.
Across town we dropped into a pub so crowded I could only stand in the doorway with the stage out of my line of sight. Fortunately, Dead Meadow are loud enough that I could have heard them playing from the Saddledome. The power trio's heady stomp can transport listeners to fantasy realms like few else, and guitarist Jason Simon is the wah-pedal's foremost practitioner today. Dude uses two... don't ask me why. Steve Kille meanwhile worked his bass aggressively in and out of Simon's clouds of sound, but was always right there when it was time to hammer the riff home. People have referred to their sound as being similar to shoegaze, and though their dense wall of fuzz owes much to volume abusers like the Spacemen 3 and My Bloody Valentine Dead Meadow's jams are too hot and aggressively psychedelic to sink into stoned lethargy, despite what the band's detractor's often claim. The many layers of sound that the listener must penetrate are a sonic signifier for the band, but the musicianship here is top notch. Simon and Kille are master jammers, constantly exploring every colour suggested by their deceptively simple phrases and while pummeling the heaviest of riffs. They did a set loaded with old favourites, probably because they've recently been rejoined by original drummer Mark McLaughlin, and were in peak form throughout. Those guys bring it on stage all the time, every time.
I saw C'mon later in the afternoon on the main stage, and though I am not familiar with them, I was impressed. The power trio did a raging take on biker rock that served as a good accompaniment for beers in the afternoon. They were raw, powerful and sludgy, although perhaps they betrayed a bit of a lack of melodic inspiration. The songs did become samey after a while, but their set was short, powerful and enjoyable, ending before there was time for monotony to become apparent. A good, rockin' take on hard boogie that is seldom re-visited in this day and age.
Vancouver metal gods Bison hit the stage to entertain a small but enthusiastic crowd that happily lapped up the band's sludgy thrash. As usual, this band proved themselves a force of nature onstage, and is truly in a league with any metal band going right now. This is my first time seeing them since they got a new drummer, (they remain on friendly terms with the original skin-basher, who could be seen happily watching the set from the side of the stage) and there has been a noticeable tightening-up of their sound. The new guy looks completely psychotic while playing, another bonus. Where once these heshers added a good dose of groove to their metal, they now employ a more rigid and straight forward metallic attack. If anything, they've become more brutal, but they have not lost the crushing hyper riff attack and ability to downshift into gutpunching chugging rhythms that has always been their trademark. The solos from both lead guitarists were creative and intense, and the hardcore-influenced gang vocals full-throated and powerful. The set was comprised of songs from their last 2 excellent albums, Quiet Earth and Dark Ages, and the superiority of their material was immediately apparent. An excellent band that continues to develop its singular voice organically, these guys should continue to rupture ear drums for many years to come.
I'm not exactly a huge fan of the Buzzcocks, but they do have a handful of songs I enjoy. It's cool that such a legendary punk band would come to Calgary, but truth be told they seemed a little out of place amid all the heavies on the bill. Still, the crowd seemed happy to pogo along to crunchy pop-punk classics like "What Do I Get" and "Ever Fallen In Love." There were a few missteps in the set, making the band come off as under-rehearsed. Sharing a stage with so many younger, hungrier and more technically accomplished bands threw these mishaps into sharper relief, but the guys got over on enthusiasm and seemed to really be enjoying themselves. Aside from Pete Shelley, I have no idea how many members were from the classic late '70s lineup, so its possible there were some new members still getting comfortable with the set. Still, they did all the songs I had hoped to hear from them and delivered a totally satisfactory and enjoyable performance.
Texan myth-metal warriors The Sword hit the stage next, and their bludgeoning attack prompted a violent moshpit reaction from some members of the crowd. Unfortunately, their set was heavy on material from their most recent album, the disappointing Warp Riders. The disparity in quality between it and their first two albums was made even more apparent onstage. The set therefore came across as disjointed, as excellent fantasy themed sludge metal classics like "Freya", "Iron Swan" and "Black River" were interspersed with completely unmemorable dross. The performances were tight though, so even poor songs were somewhat enjoyable, and I must note that the bassist was intensely eye-fucking every member of the audience like vintage Nikki Sixx. Here's hoping these guys come through with some better songs on their next go-around.
I'll deal with Sleep's set in another essay. It was the best show I've ever seen.
Quest For Fire had the unenviable task of playing right after Sleep at a cramped underground venue across the street from the main stage. It was apparent that the band was doubly disappointed with their slot, because they clearly would have liked to have been at the Sleep show themselves. Nonetheless, they worked hard to put on a solid show, and their hazy psych builds served as a good come down from the relentless heaviness of Sleep. The crowd grooved as the band's crescendo-laden set ebbed and flowed. At times their fuzzy atmospherics did get a little faceless, a problem the Toronto quartet has on record, but for the most part an enjoyable show.
A friend and I ducked out of the venue to grab some air and a slice of pizza, but when we got back the venue was full, so we missed out on seeing Portland booze rockers Red Fang. That didn't really bother me, as I met up with some good friends, and we spent the rest of the night swigging red wine and reflecting on Sleep's astonishing set. A perfect end to what might be the greatest day of my life.
I left for home the following day, but not before paying a visit to Sloth Records, a great little store with a whole bunch of 80s underground and alternative rock, plus a pretty healthy selection of Hawkwind vinyl to boot.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Departure
I'm going to the Sled Island music festival in Calgary. Gonna catch a bunch of wicked bands, including a reformed Sleep and the Buzzcocks. Updates when I return.
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