Showing posts with label angst metal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label angst metal. Show all posts

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Ektomorf – Redemption


Every barroom brawl should be so lucky.

When barstools go flying through the air, bodies topple over beer laden tables, and wild haymakers are thrown at lunkheads who think themselves man enough to take the eventual blow, one doesn’t want to hear the dreaded drawling croon of a country western singer. No . . . barroom brawlers don’t want to get down in their funky violent way with a soundtrack more suited for drinking whiskey, bedding livestock, or hanging oneself. Barroom brawlers want to break shit and break shit good! And what music is better fit for such revelry? Anything from the catalog of Ektomorf. Go back to my review from August of 2009 in regards to the bands album What Doesn’t Kill Me, get into some fisticuffs and tell me that didn’t feel right. Now, I have something possibly even better . . . the latest from Ektomorf, a sonic dance of malevolence called Redemption.

Folks, Redemption is one brutal piece of music. Sitting in a darkened office, brooding about a new diet fueled by lack of funds, spinning this new disc . . . I found by blood pressure build beat after beat, measure after measure, venom infused vocal line after another, until I was in the foulest of mood and ready to shut that kid up from across the street once and for all. I mentioned in a past review that I could feel this bands bitterness, their anger, their injustices as if they were my own, which is a truly rare quality in music. Nothing has changed in that regard. Redemption is jam packed with violent tones, dense guitars forming the walls to Farkas Zoltan’s foundation of pain and hatred. And within all of this bitterness, there’s a message of strength overcoming the bullshit and getting through life scarred, in multiple pieces, but still alive.

Naturally, the opening track acts as a lead track should. It gets the listeners attention by socking them in the face, and then once the listener is distracted by the circling birdies, the band socks them once again. “Last Fight” is a detuned beast that chugs and grooves its way into the blood stream, infecting the listener with its destructive disease, making said listener convulse with this otherworldly possession until they too become a being of ultra-violence. And here’s the wrinkle . . . Ektomorf slip in interesting little passages this time around to break up the one-dimensionality of the last record. Kudos on this point. No more a mindless beatdown, now things become more thought out and premeditated, which is always good for an extended stay in the local prison system.

The title track and “I’m In Hate” follow suit, throbbing, pulsating groove metal numbers that continue the barroom brawl to the point where the little fillies are busting glass mugs over the heads of the combatants. But it’s “God Will Cut You Down” that acts as the culmination of all the ill will that has been growing from the first three tracks. All of three minutes long and I feel like I’ve lived a full life of violence! This tune is flat out brutal . . . heavy as a Sherman tank, dense as a wall of lead, immediate and intense, I think I found the perfect track to usher in the apocalypse. And it’s not just all of these traits that make this song so absolute . . . it’s what Ektomorf do with the dynamics. A small break at the 1:24 mark where the instruments drop out of the mix and we’re left the chugging drive of the ultra-distorted guitars, and Zoltan’s “Ugh” propel this song through the air like a jet fueled warhead aimed for the soul.

And this intensity doesn’t stop as we drop directly into “Stay Away.” Redemption is brought to you by the letters F, U, C, and K as these letters in corresponding order happen to be used in every song, and generally multiple times in every song. Image if you will, being so angry that no other word will suffice. I’m sure Zoltan could have worked in words that had more poetry, more intellect to them, but no word conveys the emotion quite like “fuck”. We’ve all been fuckin’ pissed, wanted the world to fuck themselves, and to fuck shit up . . . see? Good word. There’s no question that there’s an emotion being conveyed here.

Ready for some more brutality? “The One” is an up tempo gem that barrels down a narrow street in Pamplona, sliding, skidding, and goring itself into red sashed wearing listeners. Warning though, we have another wrinkle from the band as they inject a healthy dose of melody in the chorus and it works perfectly to break up the sonic shellacking that we’ve undergone up to this point. Channeling some of that nu-metal sway and groove, using hefty doses of thrash and speed, and all held in place by the mortar of raw emotion, “The One” may be the song that defines Redemption as an album. Not to say that you don’t need to hear the rest of the album, just that if you only have time to hear one song and need to know what Redemption is all about “The One” is . . . er, the one.

Redemption has no crossover appeal to the mainstream and it’s not supposed. The album would suck ass if it did. This record is purely meant to be a cathartic exercise for both band and listener. What impresses me the most, besides the improved musical approach of the band, is that Ektomorf can retain this type of emotional intensity album after album. Most would have burned out after one. Even more would have collapsed or killed themselves after the second. Ektomorf? Nah, these cats have made a career of being pissed off at anyone who even thinks something partially negative about them. Rock it, brothers! Don’t change a thing. I need to know that in a year and half . . . maybe two years, a new Ektomorf album will keep me busy patching holes in my drywall and out of jail for moronicide (murder of morons  . . . for those who couldn’t figure that out).

--Pope

buy here: Redemption






Thursday, May 6, 2010

Black Breath - Heavy Breathing

Heavy BreathingWell this certainly showed up at the right time. I just had to pay the mortgage, car insurance and 2009 taxes all in the same week. They’re necessary expenses but when they hit at once it’s a real drag. Then some douchebag cop pulled me over for no good reason and gave me a bunch of shit. I was pissed! It never pays off to get lippy with a jerk with a badge and a gun. That’s when Black Breath’s new album Heavy Breathing comes in handy. This is some pissed off, heavy punk rock that they stopped making about 25 years ago. Heavy like Poison Idea, pissed off like Discharge and punk rock like Hellhammer.

Black Breath are a crew of 5 troubled youths from Seattle and Heavy Breathing is their full length debut album. It’s 40 minutes of unrepentant middle finger towards the preachers, parents and politicians who ridicule our wild ambition. Trendy young people probably refer to this music as “d-beat,” whatever that is, but in reality it’s just some tight, kick ass punk rock with metal overtones. Fans of vintage Motorhead, GBH, Broken Bones, etc will shed tears of joy all as they pull the tongues of their vintage white Avia high tops up to cover the bottom of their ripped black jeans.

Two years ago, Sweden’s Disfear put out a great album called Live The Storm that was ruined by in the red mixes that were mastered way too hot. The result was an album that I should blast almost daily but cannot get past a song or 2 because of the lame modern trend of recording music to get your attention when your ipod is on shuffle. My stereo has a volume knob. I know how to turn it up. If I want it to sound like a crappy cassette playing on a cranked boombox I’ll make that decision. Converge guitarist Kurt Ballou was responsible for the Disfear album and he also recorded Heavy Breathing. Thankfully, this album doesn’t suffer from the same problem.

The majority of the songs here are fast as hell with tight riffing, killer bass sound, frenzied drum beats and guttural screaming. “Black Sin (Spit On The Cross),” “Eat The Witch” and most of the others are total scorchers. “I Am Beyond” is pure pounding headbanging delight and “Unholy Virgin” is slower and weirder, which makes for a nice contrast.

These kids are onto something and if you don’t like, eat a bag of dicks, flat foot.


--Woody


Buy here: Heavy Breathing