Album Review: Temple of Void - The World that Was

Beastly doom-death abyss walkers Temple of Void just dropped their new LP The World that Was. It represents a phenomenal refinement to their sound and I'm really pleased to have been able to do a write up for it that you can read over at Scene Point Blank, here. If you dig on their dark vibes you can grab a copy from Shadow Kingdom, here.

Album Review: Human Impact - Human Impact

I've got a write up of the debut album from Human Impact, the new project from Chris Spencer of Unsane over at Post-Trash today. Spencer describes the album as a taste of the old NYC noise scene before it was raised to make way for condos and Air BnB scams. I wasn't there of course, but it does sound like an album that could have shared shelve space with the best releases from DNA ars and Sonic Youth back in the day. It's not as hardcore punk as I was hoping for but it's still got my blood pumping alright. Check out my review, here, and grab a copy of Human Impact from Ipecac Recordings, here.

Album Review: Hailu Mergia - Yene Mircha

Let's start with a little biography. Hailu Mergia is a celebrated Ethiopian jazz musician who was popular and prolific in his home country during the late '70s. He was part of the Walias Band, an absolutely seminal group within the world of African jazz and popular music. They famously collaborated with the father of Ethio-jazz Mulatu Astatke in 1977 for the album Tche Belew, considered one of three instrumental albums that defied the "Golden Seventies" of Ethiopian jazz. By 1983, Mergia had left his former band and immigrated to the United States, where he studied music at Howard University. It was while there that he became reacquainted with the accordion, and instrument that he learned to play during his childhood. It was his reintroduction to this unassuming instrument that prompted him to record his best-known work, His Classical Instrument, a melding of new and old styles, combining compositions he had written for the accordion with modern technology such as synthesizers and drum machines. His Classical Instrument was released on cassette in Ethiopia where it met with considerable success. In the intervening years, Malatu's career in music waned, and he turned to driving a cab around Washington DC to keep a roof over his head. In 2013, Awesome Tapes from Africa label owner Brian Shimkovitz discovered the album while in Ethiopia and contacted Mergia about re-releasing it in the United States. Mergia's music career has been revived as a result, but if you google him today, his occupation will still be listed as "taxi driver."

Yene Mircha (translates to "My Choice" in Amharic), is Mergia's latest studio LP, and follow up to his 2018 album Lala Belu, which received its due from Pitchfork with a score of 8.0 (what can I say, sometimes even they get it right)! The new album sees the seasoned musician reuniting with his old Walias bandmate Moges Habte on saxophone, while Mergia returns to his beloved accordion. If you never thought of accordion music as relaxing or nourishing for your soul, you're in for a bit of a surprise. Opener "Semen Ena Debub" has a swaying rhythm and lovingly conversation interplay between Habte's sax and Mergia's accordion. "Bayine Lay Yihedal" is a piano-led corridor, dripping with suspicion and intrigue. "Yene Abeba" finds Mergia back on the keys, taking us on a jaunty, bluesy William Onyeabo-esque stroll. And last, but not least, "Shemendefer" has a Brian Eno quality to its skipping petaly groove. We should really be so lucky to continue to have new music from this humble legend. You will do yourself no favors by sleeping on this beauty. 

Grab a copy from Awesome African Tapes, here. 

Album Review: Sergio Mendes - In the Key of Joy

Honestly, Sergio Mendes should not need an introduction, but here we go. Mendes is THE Brazilian bossa nova player. You've heard his stuff, even if you didn't realize it was him. He struck sonic gold with his rendition of "Mas Que Nada," released through A&M Records back in 1966, and has remained a consistent figure in American popular music ever since. Although he's transitioned into mostly soundtrack work for major motion pictures since the mid-00s, he is still well regarded as an emissary of one of Brazil's most popular styles, and the reach of influence is incalculable. He currently has more than 55 studio albums under his belt, of which In the Key of Joy is only the latest, and first since 2014's Magic. The album is being released along with a documentary on Mendes of the same name, and I wanted to cover this album because I'm a fan of his work, and being nearly 80 years old, I don't know how many more records we're going to see from him at this point. That said, if this is your introduction to his work, I'm sorry. In the Key of Joy is an uneven album that does not always showcase the man's strengths. It's essentially a pop album that attempts to please too many ears, that feels too light for serious bossa nova fans, and too authentic for people who may only be interested in his soundtrack work. It's also over 100 minutes long, which... yikes.

The problems start early, with "Sabor Do Rio," which has a lovely strummy rhythm and lush, sun-kissed texture. It's a perfect bossa nova track... until Common starts dropping some lazy struggle bars over it. Everytime the dude opens his mouth, it causes the track to unceremoniously face plant in the sand. Common is a talented guy. But he doesn't do beach music. Ask him to your poetry slam. Do not invite him to your spring break party. Thankfully the album rights itself before the tide can roll in and drown it. Both "Bora Lá" and "Muganga" have tight funky disco vibes, while "Samba in Heaven" gives the formula a distinctly early '00s R'nB twist. "Time Goes By" introduces an air of somber, weighty soul, while "Lamento" is an exception, straightforward, guitar-lead bossa nova jam. Sound great, doesn't it? The title track "In The Key of Joy" even has another rapper on it, Compton's Buddy, who delivers some killer rhymes, in a raw, carefree, and cutting flow. It works, frankly, and makes the album's lower moments all the more inexplicable. Especially, shockingly bland and flareless covers of '70s pop songs that are speckled throughout the album's runtime. The whole thing is like a pile of neatly sliced, fresh mango and strawberries, that someone has dumped five pounds freezer burnt honeydew melon on top of. There are a lot of delicious cuts of what you want on In the Key of Joy, but if you want them, you're going to have to dig for them.

Grab a copy from Concord, here.

Album Review: Ruin Lust - Choir of Babel

The new album from NYC Death Metal band, Ruin Lust is out now and you can read my review over at Post-Trash. It's crusty, it's chaotic, it's cruel, and I can't stop listening to it. Usually, it goes without saying that a death metal album is angry sounding, but it bears repeating because Choir of Babel is mad as hell! This album is pissed off and looking for a god damned fight! Check out my review here, and grab a copy from 20 Buck Spin, here.

Album Review: Beast of Revelation - The Ancient Ritual of Death

I have a write up of the new project from guitarist A.J. van Drenth of Throne and Temple fame. The band is called Beast of Revelation and it is a whirlwind of madness and forlorn angst. Check out my write up over at Scene Point Blank, here. Out now on Iron Bonehead (best label name ever?).

Album Review: Chicago Crowd Surfer Round Up March 2020

I had some time to catch up on recent releases from Chicago jazz and metal artists while sheltering at home this past week. This city produces far more worthy music than I can keep up with, so it is nice to take a look back and recommend some stuff from earlier in the year before it gets overlooked. There has never been a better time to do some deep listening while you are stuck indoors trying to avoid illness (or avoid spreading illness to others), and all of these albums only get more rewarding the more times you spin them. Write ups of all of my recommendations can be found over at Chicago Crowd Surfer. Links provided below.

Huntsmen - Mandala of Fear

Chicago's Huntsmen are one of the stranger amalgamations of folk revival and post-rock I've heard, and their new album Mandala of Fear takes the listener on a harrowing journey of dread and bitter truth. It reminds me of a lot of Cult of Luna's A Dawn of Fear, but more grounded and brooding. Check out the full write up here, and grab a copy form Prosthetic Recordings here.

Jeff Parker - Suite for Max Brown

Jeff Parker is the guitarist for post-rockers, Tortious. Despite what some white-bread indie soft-boi will tell you, this is actually the least interesting part of Parker's music career. He's first and foremost a jazz player, and his new album Suite for Max Brown demonstrates shows him at his best and most spontaneous. Direct, honest, and transcendent. Highly recommended! Read the full write up here, and grab a copy from International Anthem, here.

Jeremy Cunningham - The Weather Up There

Another wonderful jazz album courtesy of another great Chicago based jazz player, Jeremy Cunningham. The Weather Up There is an incredibly beautiful examination of family, community and rippling effects of traumatic loss. Check out the full write up here, and grab a copy from Northern Spy, here.

Gil Scott-Heron / Makaya McCraven - We're New Again: a Reimagining by Makaya McCraven

Easily one of the more spectacular jazz releases of this year, Chicago based drummer Makaya McCraven, at the request of Xl Recordings owner Richard Russell, reworks Gil Scott-Haron's last album to uncover it's potential as one of the late, great standards of the genre's '00s revival. This album is rightfully going to make all of the "Best of" lists this year. Get in on the action now, so that you don't have to play catch up later. Read my full write up here, and grab a copy from XL Recordings, here.

Cloud Cruiser - I: Capacity

Turns out, Chicago can churn up some pretty solid desert rock when it wants to. For my review of Cloud Cruiser's debut I decided to tell a bit of a story. It's part of a series I'm apparently doing where people discover new music during a paranormal experience. I think it does the album justice. Read my write up here, and grab a copy from CC's Bandcamp here.

Album Review: Eye Flys - Tub of Lard

Thrill Jockey surprises me again. A label that I’m used to thinking of as primarily the home for electronic music and post-rock has released a banger of metallic hardcore album with Eye Flys’ Tub of Lard. It’s as brutal as anything you would expect on Equal Vision back in the ‘90s and if that doesn’t get you hyped, then go the f*ck home. Tub of Lard is the group’s first LP and follow up to their well-received 2019 debut EP Context. It’s as dirty, vicious, driving, and guiltless as their earlier recordings, invoking the scratching noise-rock rash of Unsane in equal measure with the joint-buckling churn of power-violence forerunners Despise You. It’s a truly malicious marriage of sounds, frightening enough to keep your inner demons up at night. The album’s title is the name that vocalist Jake Smith was given by his schoolyard “friends” as a kid, and alludes to the bullying he credits for his body dysmorphia. Anyone who was bullied as a kid can relate to its lasting impacts on your life, and Smith, rightfully or wrongly, is not ready to forgive here. No, instead, he is ready for his pain to be unleashed. “Tubba Lard” is a muscular shambling brawl of self-directed hatred. “Guillotine” has a brash, Meatwound-esque, snaky groove, that I keep expecting an alligator or a sewer mutant to leap out of and rip my face off. “Predator and Prey” rages against the military’s predatory recruiting practices with prowling Biohazard inspired thrash riffs. “Reality Tunnel” has a constricting groove wrapped around a merciless beat, shot through with crisscrossing shards of feedback. “Nice Guy” is Jesus Lizard crawl down to the basement to tell you to shut your god damned mouth about how no one wants to f*ck you, because there is frankly more to life and no one owes you sex chief. Chapel Perilous” is a double-time death-dealer, and if I had one complaint about the record, it’s that more tracks do not sound as unhinged as it does. Lastly, “Perception is Gamble” has a loose and calamitous Botch meets Fear feel, and remains compelling for its entire run time despite being an instrumental track. The whole album clocks in at under thirty minutes, but frankly, it feels like it’s over in a flash, leaving me no choice to start over at the top to get another dose.

Grab a copy from Thill Jockey here.

Album Review: The Muffs - No Holiday

The Muffs music meant a lot to me when I was younger and my tastes in music were still forming. I really didn't expect to have to say goodbye to their ringleader and human fireball Kim Shattuck so soon. When I learned of her death last year, It was pretty devastating and it has taken me a while to collect my thoughts. I thought at first that I would begin the grieving process by just writing a review for the Muffs' last album No Holiday, but it ended up being a full-on tribute to the band and their legacy (oops!). Scope creep aside I'm pleased with how it turned out. You can read my review/tribute over on CHIRP Radio's blog here.

I'll miss you Kim. We all will.

Album Review: Anna Meredith - FIBS

Anna Meredith is a successful electronic composer, rightfully recognized for her charming synthesis of classic song structures with art pop, electronica, post-rock, hip-hop, and whatever else you want to read into it. Whatever that thing you think you hear in her music, you're probably right. She's phenomenally talented, drawing inspiration from nearly every tradition at once, and yet she makes this knitting of sways all seem so effortless. As strenuous as a long exhale before reciting a poem from one's childhood from memory (don't laugh, this is actually something I had to do as a kid). Those desperate click trulls over at Pitchfork have bleed quite a bit of effusive praise for Anna out of their sieve-like brains, and for once I agree with every word they're printed. Anna is, in fact, "one of the most innovative voices in British music." And yet, this statement fails to encapsulate the breadth of her musical acumen. Her debut release Varmints, refined and narrowed her considerable talents to fit a recognizable indie rock format. Her second album FIBS leaves her previous effort at an Arizona rest stop without a phone, directions, or fair for a bus, in order to start a new life with a maximalist rhythm section that would even make Jodorowsky say, "less is probably more." And funny enough, he'd be wrong. FIBS is polyrhythms from ceiling to sump-pump. Every instrument, from the horns, to guitars, to the multitude of drums, and drum substitutes it introduces, they're all played with an ear bent towards their nuanced percussive properties. And somehow beautiful, flowy melodies are the result. The more I listen to tracks like "Paramour" the more my mind reels in an attempt to parse its individual concussive elements, while simultaneously, I gratefully succumbing to its generous, soothing undertow. I've never heard an album quite like FIBS before, and it's set a new standard for avant-garde pop in my mind. It's a singular achievement and further incentive to praise Anna Meredith's prodigious capabilities. Did I mention that it sounds good? Yeah, it just sounds good and it's fun to listen to as well.

Get a copy of Fibs from their webstop here. 

Album Review: Heart Bones - Hot Dish

Well, the world might tomorrow, but at least I'm finally getting around to checking out the new Heart Bones LP today. The fresh spankin' project from A Giant Dog singer, songwriter, general fabulous person with a lot of personality Sabrina Ellis, and Sean Tillmann, sex symbol at the center of Har Mar Superstar. They came together as collaborators out of mutual respect for each other's talents, but the more they mashed their brain babies together, the more they realized that they were on to something. Borrowing a little salt and a little smoke from Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazelwood, a dash of snuff and a little twist lemon from Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin, and cutting out a parodic wedge of sexual tension from between Sonny & Cher (or was it Sam & Dave?), they've brewed a vat of love balm that only the most committed of misanthropic loaners would be loath to drawn. There are moments on their debut Hot Dish that land less gracefully than others (some of the very late '00s cribbing material is particularly tired sounding), but when these cuts hit, they devastate your heart and lift your spirits in the way only a great love fastened duet can. "Open Relations" boosts some particularly convincing and humorous performances depicting a love triangle between the leads and an unnamed third woman, where Tillman serves as both the adjacent side of the formation, and general doormat. A retro-future disco derby circles around the island of affection that rises out of the middle of "Little Dancer," and the electro doo-wop revival of "Dashboard" will take you back to a point in time when your life stretched so far out in front of you that it cleaved the horizon like a toothpick in a balloon. More than any other track, "I Like Your Way" is probably the best amalgamation of the two artist's styles, pulled along by some strange, sexy grooves (Tillman), and anchored by obtusely grounded and latently melancholy songwriting touching on out collective longing for fulfillment (Ellis). Make not mistake, Hot Dish is hot shit!

Get a copy via their website here. 

Show Review: Cult of Luna w/ Emma Ruth Rundle and Intronaut @ House of Blues, March 4, 2020

Emma Ruth Rundle @ House of Blues

Last week I stopped at the House of Blues for a show for the first time in my whole dang life. It wasn't actually that bad of experience and everyone sounded awesome. This was also my first time seeing Emma Ruth Rundle. The goth queen of quite death folk who now owns my heart. Check out my full write up over at Chicago Crowd Surfer, here. 

Cult of Luna @ House of Blues

All photos by me. 

Album Review: Emotionz - Gems

I’m checking out some hip-hop tonight and I came across this rather valuable gleaming sonic stone. Gems is the latest LP from Vancouver MC Emotionz. I hadn’t heard of this guy before, and I’m a little off-put by how hard a guy from THAT far north seems to lean into an old school, southern hip-hop and RnB style, but after giving it a few spins, I have to admit that this dude to be pretty charming. Gems is all about laying down easy vibes. Case in point “Vibe Tonight” which is a leaning party jam with an Andre 3000-esque flow. “Complications” picks up the beat a bit with fat and funky bassline, dance-floor clopping beat, handclaps, and a lush disco revival vibe that features a sexy duet with sultry fellow Vancouverian NaRai. “Request Line” layers on more sex appeal with its rippling reverb, soft-focus bass, and languid crawling flow, over which Emotionz trades bars with fellow MC Dafug about how much ugly they slay. The highlights for me are really backloaded, though. Title track “Gems” barrows Ghostface like exploitation funk to let Emotionz show off his street-hardened side with a duck-and-weave flow. “Pink Haze” has a dreamy, fuzzy feel with a bouncy, elastic beat, and cool, shimmery melody. “The One That Got Away” is a charming street shimmy about love found and love lost and lessons learned through heartache. Lastly, “The Essence” is pulled along by a skyward gazing melody while it strolls through a light jazz accompaniment and a deep bass undertow. All together it’s not a bad package. Don’t sleep on this hidden… jewel?

Grab a copy from Beast Van, here. 

Album Review: Body Count - Carnivore

You just can't keep a good man down (not my line). Ice-T has let Body Count off the chain again and the whole crew is back with another brutal, man-eater of an album. Get in on the bum-rush and check out my thoughts on this beast over at Scene Point Blank, here. 

Album Review: Impulsive Hearts - Cry All The Time

It's Monday and that can get some of us a little weepy, but fear not, because there is also new music from Chicago's delightful indie rock softies Imuplusive Hearts. This is a fun and empowering record that was a delight to write about. Check out my review over at Post-Trash, here.

Album Review: Ghouli - Nothing

Ghouli is a Richmond hardcore band who I discovered on Bandcamp because of the reaper image in the album art (confession time: I will click on just about anything that has a cloaked skeleton on the cover). I didn't know what to expect, but (Spoilers!) the reaper image ended up telling me a lot about the band. Ghouli's sound is an incredible throwback to the early days of punk and thrash cross-pollination, especially the exchange of ideas that was happening in England during the early '80s. This is a roundabout way of saying, they remind me more than a little bit of Sacrilege, and this fact is causing me to salivate to the point where I may need to position a bucket under my face to finish this review. Their 2018 demo had an ambitious rock revival edge to it, and while the roots of those early tracks survive on rollicking, speedfreak forays like "Don't Touch Me," their latest release Nothing has a much darker and heavy in tone. On Nothing, Ghouli is a metal corrugated, toothy exhibition of gothic proto-doom thrash, which moves with a phantasmal air of seething righteous anger. The howling ode to self-destruction "Coffin" quivers with anticipation of its own assured demise. Death rock rules the mind space of tracks like "Aka Prozac" while on "Abandonded House" reeling, landslide thrash barriers the listener under a heap of splintering guitars and accumulated emotional baggage. It's all exciting stuff, but my favorite two tracks on the album by far are the haunted mind game of "Ryan" with lyrics that portray the permeation between our world and the realm of apparitions, where the ramping nature of the chord progressions and gnashing grooves sell the psychological toll these encounters with the dead have on the author; and the torturously plodding gloom garage of "Top Boy" with its folding chords, creeping bassline, and lyrics that hint at a perverse overlap of sadism and empathy. Ghouli is a band that is incredibly comfortable in the dark and dangerous subject matter they explore and deliver their message with unassuageable confidence. If you're curious about the darker side of today's punk scene, then Nothing, is if nothing else, definitely worth your time.

Grab a copy of Nothing from Doctor and Mechanic Recordings, here.

Album Review: ESP Mayhem - Bloodsportswear EP

Guitarless grindcore?!? It’s a crazy idea! It can’t work. You’re mad to suggest otherwise! These are things that the monocle-wearing nay-sayer and metal purist in your head is probably shouting at your synapsis when presented with the concept of a grindcore band who shun axes for synths and circuitry. Ignore him. His head is about to erupt into a fountain of hamburger, blood and spinal fluid as soon as you hit play on the Bloodsportswear EP, the latest release from Melbourne’s electro-Cronenberg cacophony, ESP Mayhem. Bastardizing logos and synths dusted with a crunchy coat of particularized glass and dried blood, are just the first layer of diseased scales and flacking cariogenic veneer that you encounter when scraping the surface of this leaky, battery-powered beasty. What first drew me to the band was the cover for Bloodsportswear. Illustrated by Robert Parish, it depicts a tumorous, brand endorsed, bio-mecha with its piolet standing nearby at the ready. A visage of grotesquery falling somewhere between an Evangelion and Tersuo’s final terrible form. I would have bought it for that image alone, but the more I listened to ESP Mayhem, the more I realized that there was something truly unique and terrible happening deep within its guts and gears. It’s brutal, fast, efficient, and surprisingly intelligent. Somehow this techno-dystopian, maniacal mechanical convergence of electronic music and grindcore has demonstrated that metal music has not yet collapsed into a mediocrity. A small comfort because this gang of outrageous oscillating outlaws may be the harbinger of the singularity that will ultimately expunge humankind from the Earth. We had a good run. It is the machine’s time now.

Grab a copy of Bloodsportswear from Nerve Alter Records, here. 

Album Review: Godthrymm - Reflections

It’s almost spring. But that doesn’t mean we’re out from under cover of winter’s gloom just yet. Thankfully there is music out there that understands the maudlin grip and suppressive effect that the tempests have on our collective seasonal mood. Enter Godthrymn, the new project from My Dying Bride guitarist and vocalist Hamish Glencross and drummer Shaun Taylor-Steels. Released on Valentine's Day, Godthrymm's debut LP Reflections is a deliberate throwback to the Peaceville Records, ‘90s era British doom metal. It captures the plodding, lightless epic reach of Paradise Lost while managing to bring a new glint of tarnished grandeur to these well-trodden and soiled proceedings. There is a satisfyingly fresh aroma of damp earth about the album that is reifying to the senses at the same time that it serves as a weighty reminder of our mortality. Like the recently filled dirt of a fresh grave following a rainstorm, its promise of life renewed is also the final bed for the dead and inextricably bound with inert finitude. If this sounds bleak, it’s because it is. Opener, “Monster Lurk Herein” is reminiscent of Paradise Lost during their Gothic era with its overbearing, mournful and highly melodic guitar work. “We Are the Dead” is a melancholic ballad with tarry bass, high soaring leads, and grand cavern running vocals. “The Grand Reclamation” begins with a beautiful, desaturated guitar hook before transitioning into depressed Solitude worship with gravity intensifying hooks and vocals that rise in pain to invoke a malevolent darkness. It’s extremely sad, and incredibly cathartic. Get in kid, we’re going crying.

Grab a copy of Reflections from Profound Lore, here.