I stood staring out the open door, watching the earth move 15,000 feet below me.
I'd taken many a dive before, so I had no reason to be anxious, but as the wind belted my face, I couldn't help but think something was about to go terribly wrong. Fastening the earbuds into my ears, I hit my iPod and the Pagan Folk Metal of Dutch band, Heidevolk, burst into my ears. It seemed like the perfect accompaniment to my jump. Swallowing my fear, I leaped from the plane, flinging myself into the vastness of the early morning sky. The air buffeted my cheeks, icy daggers of pain digging into my face as if a butcher were filleting my face with tiny scalpels. Adrenaline seared though me, but not in the sense of the normal rush. It was the fear of the unknown.
Lightning cracked. A vortex swirled around me, a maelstrom of darkened clouds and stinging rain. Thunder resounded within the whirlpool of whipping clouds and ice particles. The Earth disappeared. My body descended into nothingness.
Then, just as quickly as the vortex arrived, it was gone. I was on the earth, unharmed, yet I hadn't ever deployed my chute. How was that possible? And where was I? The darkened forest around me was a far cry from the windswept, brown grassy fields of my landing zone. Rain fell about me. I crawled onto my knees in the mud.
Then, they were there.
I saw them before I heard them. Pounding drums and chants of a long-lost time. A time of dark ages and lost Germanic tribes. Terror seized my heart as the foliage parted and out they stepped. The Batavi. Yes, I know they existed over a thousand years ago when they dared to rise up and fight against the oppression of the Roman Empire. But there they were. In single file formation. Battle armaments at the ready. The regiment began chanting in unison "Een Nieuw Begin." I don't know how they had electric guitars, but they did, and they crushed out one brutal metallic riff after another, searing up and around the melody of the chorus and back into the group chant. I should have been terrified, but I wasn't. The Batavi didn't want to harm me. They knew I wasn't from a lost Roman Legion. No . . . they wanted me to join them.
We marched back to their village and the feast began. In the main hall, mead and ale poured like a sexual fluids as the guitar whipped into the melodic lines that rode over the staggering metal riff of "De Toekomst Lonkt." Paired clean vocals rose above the fray of rousing metal guitars, leading the men into the hall, ushering them forward to celebrate the upcoming battle. And the men did. Rushing in amid a tempo change and perfect thrash riff, they gathered and chanted in unison. I don't know what they were singing, some Germanic dialect, but I was totally wrapped with them. Mead flagons held aloft. A God was going to bless them that night and the men planned to meet that God drunk off their asses.
We feasted on boar and deer, tearing the meet from the animals bones with our teeth, juices dripping down our chins, as a funeral mall fell over the group. The dirge of "Het Verbond Met Rome" settled over the large room, walls of guitar screaming and echoing as if in mirror of the dying that would happen tomorrow. The reality of our situation settled in. We were about to face the world's mightiest army--the mere few of us. But we weren't going to falter. Picking up the mead flagons we jumped upon the table as the crushing thrash riff picked up the tempo. Another group chant. Another rousing metallic riff. A brotherly slap to the warrior besides me. If I was to die, these would be the men I would meet my maker with.
"Wapenbroeders" brought us to the frenzy. Crushing blast beats accompanied by the mournful wail of a violin filled the air as we lined up single file, grabbing our weapons. A battleaxe in my right hand, I grabbed a metallic mace in my left. I steadied the shield that protected my left forearm and pulled the helmet down over my bald scalp. Our leader called out to us as the cacophony broke into a raging guitar riff. "Hey" we screamed back in time with the band. Battleaxe raised. "Hey!"
Adrenaline speeding through our veins and the taste of blood lust in our mouths, we marched through the village to the raging metal of "In Het Woud Gezworen." The women stepped out of the earthen huts, babies draped on their hips. Then it was time for a moments reflection. A lone violin stepped in above a delicately strummed acoustic guitar as we took the two minutes of the mournfully beautiful "Veleda" to say our goodbyes. Tears stained their cheeks and even the bravest man felt the knot grow in their throats as the reality of our eventual battle set in. Not many of us would return to our homes, but fight we must. For freedom. For our children.
And fight we did. To the hyper-intense death scream blitzkrieg of "Als De Dood Weer Naar Ons Lacht" and on through the thrash metal assault of "Einde der Zege" we fought. Limbs rendered from torso. Heads split open under the crushing might of my mace. I defended my brothers, fighting for my new adopted land. Blood splayed, flesh tore. The band played on in furious thrash metal as the lone violinist joined in, lending her mournful gaze to the bloodshed.
And then, as quickly as it had started, it was over. "Vrijgevochten" rang out, a lone guitar scratching out a metal riff, soon accompanied by the full band and the rousing gang vocals of us survivors. We rose above the dead, our arms locked with each other. We raised our voices to the Gods, giving thanks for our victory and remembering the brave deaths of our fallen comrades. As sweet as victory is, the muted metal of "Vrijgevochten" reminds us that nothing comes without a cost. We gather up our dead and wounded and head back to the village. Women and mead await.
As for me, I have no desire to go home. I'm one of the Heidevolk now. I live with the Batavi. Romans beware.
With it coming down to the last days of August, the temperature here in Arkansas is still reaching a hundred and five degrees on some days. After going through the miserable heat wave that took several peoples lives when it got as hot as a hundred sixteen degrees at times, I was more than welcoming winter to completely destroy us and bury me in snow. While the majority of humans will say they love winter during the horrible summers and adore summer when they have to drive to work in the freezing cold, I’ve always been the type of person that could live in the winter-esk conditions, forever. So, what goes good with snow, freezing temperatures and icy roads? If I had to choose a new soundtrack to this coming winter, something that literally embraces winter for everything it is, Falloch’s debut record “When Distant Spirits Remain” is that record that will have you freezing to death.
Creeping very slowly out of the harsh winters of Glasgow, Scotland, this two piece atmospheric/post-rock/folk duo, does a spectacular job of setting a mood and sticking to it. “Where Distant Spirits Remain” paints a picture, a picture that may not make you literally freeze, it will place you in a position of whether or not you should cover up with a couple blankets while this record is spinning. From front to back, this record makes me think of snow mountaintops, lakes that are frozen over and old churches that have been abandon for years. Not to mention, even though this record does have speed and chaos, it’s presented in very small doses and those doses are lethal yet very enjoyable.
The one thing that always came back to my mind while this record was playing is that it’s a soundtrack, it could easily be used in a silent film and even in the background to some films. Even though it can get pretty intense with heaviness and pure
“Where Distant Spirits Remain” is magical, it’s passionate and without a doubt in my mind, this record is the most gorgeous yet honest records I’ve heard in the last several years. Even though I am very confident in knowing Falloch recorded this record inside of a very warm, comfortable studio, I can’t help but want to think that these two guys might of recorded it inside of an empty shack in the middle of nowhere. Now, while several tracks on the record such as “Beyond Embers and The Earth” and “To Walk Amongst The Dead”, may be driven with pure power and heaviness that may lead you to believe these two men could produce a very promising black metal record but it’s the sections of melody that tug at your heartstrings. In all honesty, for a debut record, I haven’t heard anything as flawless and down right gritty as this record is, that’s just the facts to.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, any record that can place images of beautiful landscapes and monstrous mountain covered in pure white snow, that record deserves props on many levels. Hell, even a record that could sooth everything out in my life and tell me everything is going to be okay, that’s a record that will stick with me for a very long time. So the final verdict is this - seven tracks, that’s all this duo needs to give you before you fall madly in love with what they’ve done on this record. Some might argue that Falloch seems to be confused as to what genre they want to be but at the end of the day, you can call them what you want, folk, post-rock, black metal with folk influence, all I know is that Falloch has created a masterpiece, hands down. “Where Distant Spirits Remain” – The one record that can kidnap you and place you into a better situation than you might be in right now.
To the Chinese, this may be the Year of the Rabbit . . . for the rest of us, let’s make this the Year of the Goat!
When I received this promo, all I saw was something describing Year of the Goat as pagan metal. Not very descriptive, but enough to conjure images of blast beats, howling and screeching vocals, and walls of distorted guitars to purvey the darkened angst of a small band of face painted musicians. Well . . . paint me corrected. Year of the Goat may fall into that pagan metal category, and by falling into that category, they’re also tearing down the walls that confine the genre.
What we have with Lucem Ferre is an album, albeit four songs long, that is made up of complicated moods, dark and morose, at times delicate and somber, but complimented with huge movements of power and aggression. Imagine the goth-metal soundings of Katatonia played by Thin Lizzy. There’s this old school, 70’s rock vibe underlying the whole thing, but it’s so immensely dark and foreboding, overwhelming in emotional weight, and textured with elegance. One might even conceivably lump this Lucem Ferre in with the whole doom rock movement, but enough with the categorization! This is a brilliantly executed EP that begs, nay . . . demands to be embraced!
The record opens with “Of Darkness” and is layered with textures of infinite sadness, immediately hurling the listener into a darkened pit of melancholy. Lyrically, the song is all about Satan and his followers, sung with heightened emotion and passion. Now, I’ve never been one to buy into the whole rocking for Satan cause, it’s always felt campy and cheap. Year of the Goat make the subject much more compelling! This is the first time that I’ve heard music that captures the full on essence of the despair one should feel when paying homage to the Prince of Darkness. Listening to this song is damn near depressing if it wasn’t littered with so many magical moments of intrigue. The guitar work is something straight out of 1970’s England, one guitar soloing, then suddenly accompanied by a second, and then a third . . . all instruments harmonizing so fluidly that the comparisons to Thin Lizzy have to be on the forefront of everyone’s mind! The production is a little on the rough side, there’s a haziness over the whole recording, but the performances more than make up for any production deficiencies. In fact, this is one of those cases where a polished product would completely ruin to overall moodiness of the music. The vocals harmonies at the chorus are fantastic, the guitar work stunning, the composition intriguing, the emotion . . . otherworldly.
“Vermillion Clouds” starts off so quiet and serene, again with a dark hue cast over the song, but very somber. The guitar work at the intro of this one is so textured and brimming with an emotional burden that the sadness washes over the soul like so many ocean waves on a desolate and rocky shore. The music gets a tad heavier, pulsing with modern sensibility but still keeping one foot firmly planted in yesterdays rock classics. The vocal performance is beautiful. The singer does a remarkable job of building the emotion of his voice with the lyrical content and the rising tempo of the music, marrying all of these elements to convey a truly special movement. The vocals never go over the top and this singer never tried to do too much with his approach to the songs, and that’s welcome. The guitar work reminds me at times of early, very early Scorpions and by the time the song gets to the mid section and the band starts rocking out in earnest, the riff reminds of something from Steppenwolf. Clocking in at over eight minutes long, “Vermillion Clouds” probably constitutes as the albums “epic” track, and the band does a great job of changing up the dynamics enough to keep the song interesting, but never get up their own asses with this quasi-proggy moment. Well crafted and just one of four gems on this record!
“Dark Lord” is, well . . . about Satan. By the time I get to this portion of the EP, I realize that Year of the Goat, stylistically, is essentially any of the classic rock bands that I grew up listening to playing the absolute darkest music of all time. I’m not talking Sabbath in heaviness . . . I’m thinking more along the lines of Steppenwolf, Thin Lizzy, Jethro Tull, Deep Purple . . . all paying homage to the Dark One and rocking out in their fuzzed out guitar tones, composing rock songs that have movement to them, and blowing my mind the entire time! Again, the vocal performance on this track is adrenalized and filled with an emotional energy that brings Jim Morrison to mind.
And then there’s the instrumental title track. Ambient, atmospheric, and filled with more textural brilliance . . . Year of the Goat has crafted an elegant passage of darkness laced with rays of hope. This EP is immaculate in composition. The musical execution by the various performers has raised the bar in my mind of what I’m looking for in any kind of dark metal, goth-metal, folk metal, pagan metal, ambient metal . . . whatever! Hands down an early contender for my Album of the Year! Lucem Ferre is the perfect album at the perfect time . . . though my only complaint is that it isn’t longer. But as an introduction to Year of the Goat, Lucem Ferre couldn’t be much better. Of further note, this record is being released through in early May through VÁN Records, and I’ll be honest, I’m surprised the guys at Prophecy didn’t have their claws dug deep into this one. So . . . VÁN Records . . . I’ll be keeping an eye on you!
Well alright . . . this is my first post of the New Year and it seems somewhat fitting that it’s gonna’ be all about my favorite form of music. Seriously . . . what better way to start off the week, let alone the year, than to have ones ears sheared off by the metallic sounds of death, destruction, and the sinister laugh of the Dark One himself? This particular episode features three bands from all over the globe who are showing us that there are multiple levels on which a band can be brutal, beautiful, and create mayhem with a series of inter-related notes. The ideas aren’t all that new, so you Old Dogs can go back to gnawing on your bones, but the execution of said ideas are well done and compelling. Shotgun that Monster drink (ach!) or a 20 ounce cup of espresso, strap yourselves into your comfy chair, and enjoy some blistering sounds that we’ve stumbled on for 2010.
Månegarm – Nattväsen
Described as pagan/folk metal, this Swedish outfit should have been in my year end top ten. There’s just something about music that combines explosive metallic moments with beautifully uplifting melodies that gets me air drumming and singing at no one in particular. Månegarm quite simply took me to the frosted hills of their homeland, planted me in a rustic, dimly lit tavern, placed a plate of fire roasted mutton on the table and poured me a tankard of ale, and then proceeded to regale me with tales of shadows, and creatures of the night, and wisdom of the ancient ones, and mountains, and Viking ships doing battle with sea storms, and . . . my God, this is awesome! By the time I got through listening to Nattväsen, I felt like I had my arms draped over the shoulders of burly and very hairy men garbed in animal skins, all in celebration of our grand heritage.
If you’re not singing along with the melodic vocal intro to “Mina Faders Hall,” well . . . you’re just dead inside. The sing-along intro quickly disappears and an explosion of guttural vocals and tight guitars power the opening track in rip roaring fashion. Partially black metal, partially power metal, Månegarm do a fantastic job of taking this listener out of his self and catapulting him to a land that time forgot. The guitar work is well executed between the heavy power riffs and the soaring guitar solos, the drums are up tempo, bordering on speed metal, and the vocals are a well balanced affair of violence and serenity. What I also appreciate from this song is the nifty little pieces of nuance that they throw into the song . . . a quick break here, a cymbal strike there . . . little things that add to the dynamics. “Nattsjall-Dromsjal” picks up where the first song left off. Up tempo thrashing riffs that shift to a great quasi- Celtic melodic chorus powered by what sounds like a violin. Once the song breaks near the mid-point, it becomes more readily apparent that this violin sound is actually an effect laden guitar. This song goes from a tavern sing-along to a massive battle waged on muddy soil within seconds as the break takes on a more ominous and thrashing sound.
While the whole album takes the listener on a fantastic voyage shifting between folk-y melodies and dark metal tones, it’s almost as if Månegarm saved the best until last. “Delling,” though still combining all of the elements of the album thus far, is driven by acoustic guitars and takes on more of the folk qualities. Accented by violins and swirling background sounds, this song actually reminds me a bit of Simon & Garfunkel and “Scarborough Fair,” just heavier and more dynamic. A song about hope for a new day, “Delling” is sung completely in Swedish and is one of those songs that touches the emotions. I feel a tightness in my chest every time I hear the melody to this one and it just goes to show the universal power of music. You don’t necessarily need to know what they’re singing about for the emotional power of the music to work its magic. Let the music take hold of your imagination and create the story for yourselves. www.myspace.com/manegarm
Noriega – Desolo
Los Angeles based Noriega simply aren’t afraid to bludgeon your ears into bloodied stubs. Desolo is a piece of hardcore fused metal that feels as angry as it sounds. What I found most interesting about this EP, though, was the bands approach to creating space within the dense walls of aggressive bombast and adding a sense of musicality to the sheer brutality. To say that these guys are reinventing the wheel would be a stretch, but let’s listen in a bit before we stamp Noriega as a one trick pony. Amidst the angst ridden flurries and vocal tantrums, the music breaks long enough for us to breathe and the band to slide in odd elements of jazz and off-time progression. So, once I picked up on this, the complexion of Desolo completely changed. You’re gonna’ yell at me until I’m coated in a fine spray of spittle? Fine. Just do it with a little class so that I can take you serious. Noriega could be the poster child for just such an approach.
Check out “Bernard” and how these guys have found that almost perfect formula of mixing a sonic beat down with huge movements of musicality. The off time start/stops that work in contrasts with the droning distorted frenzy remind me of Voivod doing a tango with Hatebreed while Henry Rollins is impatiently waiting, tatted arms crossed and scorn on his face, trying to add his own flavor to the movement. It’s an awesome song in that regard, but as the song seems to blend into “Detriment,” one begins to realize that what started off as a tango has suddenly erupted into a full-fledged bar fight and someone forgot to invite Burt Reynolds. The textures that Noriega use enhances the song in ways that only well executed textures can. A straight up sonic walloping would have be fine for those hardcore kids who are one dimensional and are angry for all the wrong reasons. Noriega sound angry because they actually care and that, my friends, is power. I go back to Rollins on this track. “Detriment” has that raw, scab pulled off a fresh wound kind of feel to it. But there’s an element of sensitivity, and I don’t mean the pretty flowers or cuddly kitten kind of sensitivity. This is the kind of sensitivity that makes breathing painful . . . the kind of sensitivity that makes every waking moment the ultimate challenge in tolerance towards the weak. “Life By Myself?” Forget about it. Pick up the EP and listen to it for yourself. Talk about pain! Sheeesh! www.myspace.com/noriegaband
Viatrophy – Viatrophy
Candlelight Records seems to keep finding the most compelling and interesting acts in the metal world. Viatrophy are a British death metal outfit that I’ve found much more palatable than a lot of the like-minded bands within the UK scene. Reason being . . . they change things up. I’m not being senselessly beaten into a puddle of jelly for the entire album. Viatrophy bring in elements of serenity, as noted in the opening track, ”Lux Et Tenebris,” before they unleash a world of hurt. But even within the blast beat melee, the band changes things up enough to keep the whole experience interesting. It always comes back to the dynamics, folks. Ultimately, it was the musicality of this outfit that won me over.
“Mistress of Misery,” brutal as brutal can possibly get, shows how Viatrophy mix in great elements of musicality by changing up the tempo and using some off time signatures. The vocals would certainly drain most people of life, but I’m good with it. Guttural vocals mixed with a more angst ridden voice work extremely well together, and all while the music shifts from a detuned and distorted scrum. Check out “Seas of Storms” and hear how these guys work in a nice quiet portion in the middle of the chaotic frenzy. That’s what I’m talking about! This song shows a perfect use of dynamics and an element that keeps things interesting. And then, as the song keeps rolling to completion, the vocals become more and more manic all while a creepy guitar melody swells in the background. Excellent!
“Scenes of Extended Peril” is the outstanding track from this disc, purely because Viatrophy refuse to stay boxed in a realm of standard sounds, time signatures, and ideas. Opening with a massive volley of drums and odd rhythms, the band throws itself into a thrashing pit of violence, providing just enough space in the chaos for us to catch our collective breaths before bursting into a sonically, though technically compelling passage. Then, with one guitar riffing away in the right speaker, joined shortly after by the second guitar in the left, Viatrophy pummel us with an awesome off time groove that slowly evaporates into an atmospheric, uplifting jazzy piece. Where the hell did that come from? Pay close attention to the rhythm section as they tap into some bizarre place for inspiration and execute a breath taking little jam. That, my friends, is what gets my blood pumping on a Monday morning! I don’t need coffee today . . . I have Viatrophy! www.myspace.com/viatrophy
