{"id":1872,"date":"2017-02-03T22:25:02","date_gmt":"2017-02-03T22:25:02","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.hippy.com\/hip\/other\/random-stabbings-artless-critique-cd-reviews-august-2006\/"},"modified":"2017-02-03T22:25:02","modified_gmt":"2017-02-03T22:25:02","slug":"random-stabbings-artless-critique-cd-reviews-august-2006-by-eric-w-saeger","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.hipplanet.com\/hip\/reviews\/random-stabbings-artless-critique-cd-reviews-august-2006-by-eric-w-saeger\/","title":{"rendered":"Random Stabbings & Artless Critique CD Reviews August 2006 by: Eric W. Saeger"},"content":{"rendered":"

\t\t\t\tRandom Stabbings & Artless Critique – August 2006<\/i><\/big>
\nEric W. Saeger<\/p>\n

\nBlack Cobra, \u201cBestial\u201d (At a Loss Records)<\/b>
\nA two-person operation in the manner of Dresden Dolls but concentrating on the doom metal approach of St. Vitus, sometimes pegged to Boris speed, ie a homestyle type of jam usually restricted to the garages of the parents of axe-novice teenagers but which now has become accepted by undergrounders mainly because so many 4- and 5-piece acts simply cannot offer such undiluted songwriting without calling for congressional hearings. Singer\/guitarist Jason Landrian\u2019s voice evokes summa cum laude punk yelling, his guitar sludged to the breaking point as it tries to drown out drummer Rafael Martinez. Comparisons include the aforementioned indie heroes, Motorhead, Cro Mags, Big Black and so forth. Even without a bass guitar this works just fine for seekers of the infinitely raw and adamantly uncommercial.
\n Order from Amazon.com<\/a><\/p>\n

Zeraphine, \u201cStill\u201d (Phonyx Records)<\/b>
\n
\nAn expensive import, but probably worth it for goth completists. Vocalist Sven is several ticks more animated than most kraut-rockers, not straining away at the chops-licking lasciviousness of Rammstein but clearly putting his back into it. Title track recalls Fields of the Nephilim\u2019s recent doings, infusing them with Fearless Freep jangle and hand-wringing vocal lines. \u201cNiemand Kann Es Sehen\u201d re-creates the post-punk haunted-house vibe recently co-opted by Birthday Massacre (ditto for \u201cNichts Aus Liebe\u201d), \u201cInside Your Arms\u201d doles out some metallic EBM in the tradition of Megaherz (ferocious Rammstein mimickers if you\u2019ve never heard them before, and you seriously should), \u201cToxic Skies\u201d covers the obligato Sisters of Mercy ground, and \u201cHalbes Ende\u201d is the ghoul-rock ballad. A nice taste of Berlin for gothies trapped in the States, although it\u2019d be nice if bands like this would stick to English if the few numbers in which it\u2019s used got them signed in the first place. Order from Songsearch.com<\/a><\/p>\n

Paul Carr, \u201cJust Noodlin\u2019\u201d (Jazz Karma Records)<\/b>

\nPaul Carr\u2019s sax is a weapon of chill destruction, not too souped-up (there\u2019s no sign that he\u2019s battling for shelf space with fusion proggers) and not too old school either. His new album administers straight-up commuter feel-goodness similar to Sonny Rollins or a more freestyle Ronny Laws. The set boots up with the album\u2019s eponymous track, a snappy metered original spotlighting his breezy but intense perspective not only on the notes themselves but also on the innards of his instrument. It\u2019s not until track #4 (Carrie Fischer\u2019s \u201cYou\u2019ve Changed\u201d) that there\u2019s a turn for the nostalgic, but thankfully the feel is far less forlorn than smilingly introspective. Passages are traded here and there with trumpet player Terrell Stanford, and these are without a doubt the highlights of the record; a 6 1\/2 minute version of the Gershwins\u2019 \u201cBut Not For Me\u201d starts as a thoughtful gift to the foxtrotters until Carr can no longer control an urge to get medieval on the scale, pianist Bob Butta returning a volley in kind. Order from Amazon.com<\/a><\/p>\n

Sahg, \u201cVol 1\u201d (Candlelight Records)<\/b>
\n
\nReissue of the superbly angry 1990 release. The album\u2019s atmospheric intro alone is enough to set it apart from other Sabbath-esque product, but the music is even more of a pleasant surprise, with \u201cRepent\u201d utilizing the wobbly vocal effects of Soundgarden\u2019s \u201cBlack Hole Sun\u201d to a better end, opening a wide, deathly aural space which they fill with Trouble-like guitar passages and real, no-kiddin-around lead work. \u201cExecutioner Undead\u201d leaves behind it a deathly impression of \u201cChildren of the Grave\u201d augmented with a piece of mummy-metal riffage which was, one would gather, stolen in later years by none other than Nile. Bands like Sword and \u2013 dare we the sacrilege of it \u2013 St Vitus can only dream of writing tyrannosaurus-attack metal this cool. Order from Amazon.com<\/a><\/p>\n

Brandie Frampton, \u201cWhat U See\u201d (D&LF Records)<\/b>
\n
\nDreary soccer mom pushes her drearily cherubic daughter\u2019s C&W bullocks in an age of nothing but null-relevance American Idolbots molded from 100% Plastigoop, world reacts with blank, uncomfortable stares. The little brat sings her hookless Trisha Yearwood wannabe-isms with all the passion of a spanked Hansen, taking great pains to avoid straining her precious honky throat save for a rote nicking of Jewel during a Nickelodeonized version of \u201cBrown Eyes Blue.\u201d The title track would love to be used as a female WWF-er\u2019s theme song, and there are some mad-skillz fiddle-glissandos to prove it, but the energy poops her out before she gets the slightest toehold. Order from D&LF<\/a><\/p>\n

Photophob, \u201cStill Warm\u201d (Hive Records)<\/b>
\n
\nConjecturally, Photophob are nosing around the underground territory lorded over by Chachi Jones, who specializes in \u201ccircuit bending,\u201d a headphone electro technique characterized by slow-paced symphonic dirges splattered with incorrigible, frothing beats and samples that include old Furbys or basically any consumer electronics device that makes odd noises when its components are fritzed. Though nowhere near as experimental as the typical Jones album, Still Warm has enough quirkiness to qualify for the genre, since chef\/cook\/bottle-washer Herwig Holzmann plays with the idea in many spots, beginning with roll-out track \u201cAll of Them,\u201d which lures the listener in with a morose piece of funeral-home Muzak that soon finds itself surrounded by acid-washed breakbeats, as though Animal the Muppet Drummer were trying to spazz away all the attention. Holzmann plays that angle in several spots, an acquired taste that appears to get him drooling uncontrollably. Conservative EBM opiates receive a good amount of attention, but not to the point where a piece becomes danceable for any extended period. This is a limited edition of 500. Order from Hive Records<\/a><\/p>\n

Bluebird, \u201cStylemasters [Soundtrack]\u201d (Defend Films)<\/b>

\nNew soundtrack to a performance-surfing documentary shot in the late 70s. The intro offers speed-drumming fritzed through a phase-shifter, then moves on to your typical (and ironically dated, as of recently) Queens of the Stone Age fuzz with a nod in the general direction of hammock-rock things like Quagmire. \u201cGlitter Pit\u201d is comprised of slapped-together juice machine grind-noise over fog-swirled ringouts and no percussion, probably for the slo-mo montages; \u201cGlass +\u201d explores a rather pretty Oasis-like arpeggio; the heavily muted \u201cAccidental Progress\u201d points out that even Martians need game-show music; \u201cGood Ride\u201d owes its lot in life to Machine Head-era spandex metal. Freakout tunes for your e-party if nothing else, and actually much better than a lot of the retro soundtracking that\u2019s out at present. Order from Amazon.com<\/a><\/p>\n

Imperative Reaction, “Eulogy for The Sick Child” (Metropolis Records)<\/b>
\n
\nIt\u2019s been an odd year for Metropolis releases, with nearly all of them fitting a pattern of better music being found on their second halves. Eerily enough, this extends to their reissue catalog as well, as seen in Eulogy for The Sick Child, 1999\u2019s EBM clinic from the former DNA. Admittedly, there\u2019s not a lot that hardfloor and darkwave fans will dislike about the first part of the album \u2013 least of all the widely exalted S&M-stomper \u201cScorpio,\u201d resplendent in an early Skinny Puppy groove that meanders with a gripping and spooky synth riff \u2013 but by quanta, from track 7 on, the proceedings are more relaxed, original and experimental, beginning with \u201cThe Settling,\u201d a noise venture that retrofits somber Hammond whole notes with a jumbled tabla-like subroutine. David Albrecht\u2019s voice goes black-metal snarl in the manner of Hocico to honor the hardfloor numbers but downshifts to a swirling Ratzinger-esque half-whisper for the goth-droid trances, the most subtle of which is \u201cOvercast,\u201d a wobbling wave-form floor-filler that tees up the booping instrumental raver \u201cOut: Obsolete.\u201d Order from Amazon.com<\/a><\/p>\n

Lumari, \u201cEmerge Dancing\u201d (Retribe Records)<\/b>
\n
\nNew Age lady bearing a concoction of world, chant and Joe Satriani that\u2019d probably work as clear-your-head background for ashtanga class if the students were told the lyrics are in Sanskrit (they\u2019re not). Going by Google, Lumari is the only person on earth spreading the \u201cAlawashka\u201d language, billing it as \u201cthe mother of all languages,\u201d which could be true for all we know \u2013 if everyone were a kook there\u2019d be no normal ones. The material here is meditative and relaxing although there is the matter of opening track \u201cShanta May\u201d (translated as \u201cwithin my dreams,\u201d it\u2019s claimed) which, given its wolf-woman tribal drumming and Warrant guitar solo, is a little too B-horror-movie for wide consumption. The second, acoustic-guitar-driven track will only satiate Yoko Ono fans who don\u2019t see why \u201cKumbaya\u201d has such a bad rap among normal people, but from then on the songs \u2013 sounding Japanese in some places and Middle Eastern in others \u2013 are reverent, prayerful and very easy on the timpani. Order from Amazon.com<\/a><\/p>\n

Bass Tone Trap, \u201cTrapping\u201d (Discus Records)<\/b>
\n
\nA re-release from 1983, Bass Tone Trap was the launching pad for several Discus Records regulars who\u2019ve gone on to some of \u2013 okay, the most \u2013 experimental jazz\/noise dada found today. Kickoff song \u201cSanctified\u201d could be thought of as Madness trying to magpie Prince while keeping in the good graces of the patrons of a smoky jazz club, but from there it\u2019s a no-wave opus of unfollowable drums, spur-of-the-moment bursts of grand mal vitriol, and chaotic progressions of all types and combinations, much of which had to be improvised and non-verbally cued (unless these guys are ten-fingered ants from Alpha Centauri, which could very well be for all the seriousness that\u2019s gone into their stuff for all these years). \u201cSafe in the Inner Core\u201d finds guitarist John Jasnoch gently tickling the strings for a few bars before drums and sax rudely interrupt with a hyperspeed gun battle; \u201cAfraid of Paper\u201d dabbles in megaweirdo soundtracking, with all hands contributing to an unnerving motif that moves through Asian and pure noise analyses. Order from Discus Records (England)<\/a><\/p>\n

Sensations, \u201cListen to My Shapes\u201d (Camera Records)<\/b>
\n
\nThe funny thing about these guys is how they advertise themselves as a 60s band \u2013 a Kinks, Byrds, Simon and Garfunkel when the mood hits \u2013 and it\u2019s actually true. Certainly all the Spacemen 3 worshippers who survived the Brian Jonestown Massacre would find a few songs \u2013 \u201cMy Big Fame\u201d leaps immediately to the fore \u2013 mortally relevant were they put forth as advance singles of a Big Something about to happen, and bands like the Lilys would most likely begin flogging their ProTools for more and weirder output in panicked response. But the Sensations aren\u2019t just hoping their moniker gets the Bowery Ballroom bloggers all panties-abunched; it appears they may have actually come across a certified antique collection of records which now dictates their every move. Above all they\u2019re into Abbey Road<\/i>-era Beatles, if songs like \u201cIncredible Man\u201d and \u201cSlow to Show\u201d are even the blurriest windows into their marvelously na\u00efve psyches, and \u201cMy Big Fame\u201d is George Harrison-inspired any way it\u2019s sliced. The Simon and Garfunkel shtick comes into play upon \u201cWinds of Emotion,\u201d but along with its unplugged obeisance come a few lines that channel the Chili Peppers when they were in their pre-oldness jackanapes phase. Order from Amazon.com<\/a>\n<\/p>\n

The Hacker, \u201cAnd Now\u2026\u201d (Uncivilized World Records)<\/b>
You can\u2019t accuse Michael Amato of being one of those lazy, opportunistic DJs who\u2019s all about letting computers do all the work, as his second collection of mixes proves in all its straight-from-the-deck glory \u2013 no software was harmed in its making. Herein is all the trancy, cracked EBM you\u2019d need for a party for the ages, including a redo of Front 242\u2019s \u201cNo Shuffle\u201d from the Alfa Matrix days (1985 to be exact) retrofitted with enough sampling that the deadpan vocals take on a completely new slant. Miss Yetti\u2019s \u201cCould I Kill You\u201d receives a low-tech treatment, coming out of it with a lot of bleeping, fuzzy scratches and cat yowls for its time. It\u2019s a constantly thrumming, organic experience, cheeseball A-Ha keyboards showing up when they\u2019re needed, the depth of layering consistent and often breathtaking, Sleeparchive\u2019s \u201cElephant Island\u201d and a reverently constructed version of the rubbery \u201cPure\u201d from 90s ravers GTO serving as better examples. Order from Uncivilized World<\/a><\/p>\n

Time Requiem, \u201cOptical Illusions\u201d (Candlelight Records)<\/b>
Get your Bic lighters out, a cross between Styx and Helloween in the house. Last year saw the release of keyboardist Richard Andersson\u2019s brilliant Space Odyssey album, and for this new project the uncannily Dio-like singer\u2019s been traded in for \u2013 this is where the Styx part comes in \u2013 a new fellow (unnamed in the bio) whose tidy, cigarette-free vocals sacrifice character for Dennis DeYoung standards of falsetto perfection. Andersson must be quite the taskmaster, judging by the single dimension to which the singer\u2019s relegated, but the whiz-bang classical stuff\u2019s what it\u2019s about anyway, floating the type of hold-the-damn-phone riffology that would have paid for a mansion or three were this 1982. But it isn\u2019t, and deep lines at Andersson\u2019s tee-shirt kiosk may not ever come to be unless he loses the Blackmore-sized chip on his shoulder about human limitations and finds a smidge of humor, not that that ever stopped Brahms, but it isn\u2019t the 1800s either. Nothing against artists rubbing their backs against the prog-metal ceiling, but this guy desperately needs a Lloyd Dobler to shake him hard and yell \u201cYou. Must. Chill.\u201d Order from Amazon.com<\/a><\/p>\n

Wade Oyejide, \u201cAfricaHot! The Afrofuture Sessions\u201d (Shaman Work Recordings)<\/b>
\n
\nJust a fact you may have lost in the shuffle here: not everything about the African continent is a maddening saga of militiaman battling militiaman between bursts of genocide. Wade Oyejide is living testimony to this, and these almost ad lib-sounding Afrofuture recordings look at urban life \u2013 not strictly in Nigeria either \u2013 through a stubbornly jubilant prism, celebrating an envious tribal environment colored with hypnotic rhythms and uncountable voices (in both English and traditional Yoruba) pressing for social change through peaceful means. Choirs are bolstered with both programmed and live drumming, bass, horns and the odd pipe-organ (\u201cThe Hunger pt 1\u201d). \u201cOne Day Everything Changed\u201d envisions a world free of Republican jingoism, and this is where Oyejide busts into a rap quanta more powerful and darkly terrible than any bling-blinger could muster no matter how many Benzes were at stake. Order from Wale Oyejide<\/a><\/p>\n

The Format, \u201cDog Problems\u201d (Nettwerk Records)<\/b>
This column must still be on Nettwerk\u2019s probation list, being that the love it gets from the corridors of PR is currently limited to quirky guess-my-classification tests released the previous month or week, not that they should stop in case anyone\u2019s looking. A couple of months ago we went over Anathallo, whose weirdness was Sufjan Stevens-level, and the oom-pah-pah waltzing that kicks off boot-up track \u201cMatches\u201d was met with similar excited squeals from our Altie Whacko Desk, but that was just a drill; the evocation here is Belle and Sebastian getting a royal beating from the Shins while ELO sneaks a few robot-glissando aaahhhahhs into the vocal tracks. It\u2019s at once keep-on-truckin 70s and break-out-the-thesaurus inspiration for Pitchforkians, the hi-hat sizzling in 16th-notes while twee vocal lines implicitly urge the rich kids to make daddy\u2019s 57 T-bird disappear to someplace grassy where it\u2019s safe to make out and do wildly outrageous things like stick flowers in your hair. Title track is a synthesis of \u201cKiller Queen\u201d and the most recent opera-couplet-a-thon from the now-demented Sparks, setting the table for an experience that will have Belle fans who\u2019d like to see their heroes get slightly edgy believing in Santa Claus. Order from Amazon.com<\/a><\/p>\n

Elan, \u201cTogether As One\u201d (Interscope Records)<\/b>

\nEven if you detest reggae it\u2019s difficult to wish the worst for Elan \u2013 it\u2019s faux-rootsy in ways but not so much that it evokes images of honkies cranking it up solely to cling to memories of Caribbean vay-kays and annoy their punk neighbors. It\u2019s a comforting, lighthearted record whether or not too many of those ubiquitous No Doubters are on board (Gwen Stefani contributes her bee-stung vocalisms to \u201cAllnighter\u201d; Tony Kanal does some producing), and that\u2019s offset anyway by cameos from Assassin and Cutty Ranks. Easiest comparison is Big Mountain\u2019s rasta re-do of \u201cBaby I Love Your Way\u201d a decade or so ago, so fans familiar with that as a touchstone will have a general idea of the contents here. It certainly isn\u2019t straight out of any obscure Marley collection, but as has been demonstrated often, pop sensibilities can work wonders with the genre, particularly for those who don\u2019t get what the fuss is about with rub-a-dubbing and so forth. As beach-drivetime stuff goes, things rarely come better. Order from Amazon.com<\/a><\/p>\n

MorningSide, \u201cRoad Less Traveled\u201d (self-released)<\/b>
Definitively 90s, Philly\u2019s MorningSide park themselves at the intersection of emo-ska and retail-grunge, combining harder shades of Braid with Foo Fighters daredevil-rock. Heavy users of Epitonic.com and other explorers will be stoked about their proudly displayed garage-ness and may get quite a kick out of the outstanding, crunch-blast lead work of Pete DiCanto, whose Alice n Chains wah-pedal fetish adds metallic shock and awe to what might otherwise be something you\u2019d swear You\u2019ve Heard Before and Liked and What the Hell Is Their Name Anyway. Sean MacGregor\u2019s bratty Nyquil-medicated baritone rounds out an unhateable package with a loose nick of Billy Corrigan in a let\u2019s-stomp-something mood.
\n Order from MorningSide<\/a><\/p>\n

Lacrimas Profundere, \u201cFilthy Notes for Frozen Hearts\u201d (Napalm Records)<\/b>

\nHuge turnaround for Lacrimas Profundere, who with 2004\u2019s Ave End hit the snoozer trifecta with a glum, rainy take on what Bauhaus might sound like if they were trying to get their most un-hooky things a little respect in today\u2019s billions-and-billions-served market. Their targeting of the gothie brigade has been recalibrated with loud guitar, hot-chick background vocals and a little animation, the vocals sufficiently Sisters of Mercy-like but retaining their Eurotrash aura. It\u2019s rather amazing that the band were able to shake more money out of Napalm after such Ave End\u2019s dreadfulness, but it\u2019s been well used on a new and improved post-grunge wall of sound that recalls Stone Temple Pilots, or more accurately German industrialistas Megaherz, leaving the only remaining recommended improvement a willingness to stretch the vocals out of their dishwasher-safe vampire-chatroom routine. Order from Amazon.com<\/a><\/p>\n

Cecilia Smith, \u201cDark Triumph: The Life of Victoria Lancaster Smith\u201d (CEA Records)<\/b>
The real-life story of Victoria Smith as told through music and narration has a distinctly PBS feel to it, revealing the high and low points of Victoria\u2019s lifelong journey of self-sacrifice and service, both as a nurse and a Red Cross and Peace Corps volunteer. Through the subject\u2019s autobiographical narration we become privy to not-long-dead taboos and idiosyncratic thinking unique to the black community \u2013 she was the darkest child of her family and hence the least-desirable \u2013 and watch as she parlays her personal tribulations into positive energy. Cecilia Smith (no relation indicated) is one of the world\u2019s top vibes players, and her work on this record, along with help from an elite unit of musicians and composers that include the Harlem Boys Choir, is lovingly orchestrated, shifting with ultimate panache as both the dark and light times are related with warmth, humor and an adamant lack of regret. Order from Amazon.com<\/a><\/p>\n

Urkraft, \u201cThe Inhuman Aberration\u201d (Wea\/Earache Records)<\/b>
Speed up your basic Danzig record, add some Don Airey keyboard lines, drag Mastodon\u2019s vocals into it and you have these Danish thrashers, who rip it up with some Buck-Dharma-like leads for added gravitas. As with most of this sort of product, key changes are a rarity \u2013 there\u2019s huge interchangeability between songs 3 through 7 for instance \u2013 and quite frankly this has been done so many times it\u2019s jolly ponderous that labels are still cranking them out. Onward we slog, though, seeking grains of wheat in all the chaff; what Urkraft does it does well, exhibiting a militaristic tightness and tunnel-vision enthusiasm. What would break them away from the pack, being that they\u2019ve grudgingly added keys as it stands, would be the addition of some laptop-isms, because there\u2019s a lot of catching up to do with more forward-thinking outfits like In Flames \u2013 the quota for Slayer clones is met for the next 60 years by now. Drum machine would be nice too \u2013 Ministry rocks, you know. And better haircuts maybe. Or big rubber monster masks. Order from Amazon.com<\/a><\/p>\n

\n—
\nOutraged ranting, indie label release news and spaghetti sauce recipes are always welcome. Email ericsaeger@mindspring.com<\/a><\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Random Stabbings & Artless Critique – August 2006 Eric W. Saeger Black Cobra, \u201cBestial\u201d (At a Loss Records) A two-person operation in the manner of Dresden Dolls but concentrating on the doom metal approach of St. Vitus, sometimes pegged to Boris speed, ie a homestyle type of jam usually restricted to the garages of the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[18],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1872","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-reviews"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hipplanet.com\/hip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1872","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hipplanet.com\/hip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hipplanet.com\/hip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hipplanet.com\/hip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hipplanet.com\/hip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1872"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.hipplanet.com\/hip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1872\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hipplanet.com\/hip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1872"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hipplanet.com\/hip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1872"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hipplanet.com\/hip\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1872"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}