Album Review: Sturmovik - "Destination Nowhere"

Crust punk always seems like a hidden niche genre, but if we’re being honest, this sub-section of punk (and some would argue its most genuine successor,) has a long and storied history that touches and descends through other splinters like hardcore.  For those unfamiliar, crust punk is essentially punk as it came of age in the early ‘80s, but with more distortion and more screaming.  Those are really the only distinguishing factors, so with that in mind, how does Polish crust punk newcomers Sturmovik weigh in against the rest of the genre?

In short, the answer is pretty well, actually.  Aficionados with an attuned ear will not doubt note that “Destination Nowhere” probably has more in common with the stylings of Pro-Pain than of the recent efforts from Darkthrone, but the line between hardcore punk and crust is blurry as it is, so fans of both will probably find value within.

Like most punk records of any style, “Destination Nowhere” makes sure not to overstay its welcome.  The nine cuts on the record flash past in a positive blur, making it easily possible to absorb the entire experience in about a half-hour.  That said, there’s enough composition here so that the record doesn’t feel short, which in this case is a compliment.  Each cut has just about the right amount of blistering riffs and smashing drums to fulfill its three minute obligation, and the melodies in the album’s bridges are varied enough to provide a rich punk diversity.

That versatility within the punk structure is what gives “Destination Nowhere” some added value.  You can listen to the energetic “Saint of Chains” and the beat-driven “Bad Sons, Bad Earth” back to back and yes, they’re the same band and the same paradigm, but still stand out as different songs.

For all that variety though, where the album sounds best is just in throwing caution to the wind and going for it, as we hear in the joyous slog of “Mental Uprising.”  It’s a bunch of messy chords played with quick strokes and ceaseless percussion punctuated only by the haranguing vocal shouts that represent verses.  Just to add to the chaos, the songs back half throws in a fuzzy guitar solo, and then we’re back at it for a quick verse at the end.  “Mental Uprising” represents more than just Sturmovik’s best song – it’s also an indication of their understanding of punk’s jointly springy and abbreviated nature.  These are songs that are meant to evoke a physical response, with accessible but fun riffs that dress up mean and demand that the listener bang their head or start a mosh pit or play hockey or something.

If there’s a downside worth nothing, it’s only that the vocal performance is ragged enough that it’s hard to distinguish the lyrics with any great accuracy.  In many vestiges this wouldn’t be an issue, but punk of all stripes has a long history of making sure that the message is transmitted and received along with the music, which is where Sturmovik stumbles slightly.

By and large though, Sturmovik’s “Destination Nowhere” hits all the necessary and proper hallmarks that a crust punk album, or any punk record, really, needs to hit.  It’s a fine addition to any punk fan’s collection and a sure sign that the legacy of crust lives on.

Album Review: Baroness - Purple

Not many bands have been gaining as much steam in recent years as Baroness. As they have traversed the rainbow of album colors, they have also expanded their sludge sound to take in pieces of classic rock and psychedelica, turning their music into something that approximates what Mastodon has tried and failed to achieve. They can write gritty, soulful music that is both powerful and beautiful. I may not yet have found a record of theirs that I can latch onto and claim myself as a fan, but I can see from afar what they are doing, and appreciate it all the same.

With "Purple", we see Baroness go even further in coalescing around an identity that dirties up classic rock in a way that I'm not sure anyone else has discovered. As the preview tracks were unveiled, they struck me as being a massive step forward for the band, and convinced me that this time I had to give the new album a real chance to win me over.

"Morningstar" opens things off with a flair. After a few seconds of quiet buildup, the riff jumps from the speakers with tactile power, and the percussion skitters along with the loose energy of an unhampered player. All of that builds to a massive release in the chorus, where the vocals smooth out just enough to make the simple melody echo in your head. It's a nearly perfect opener, the kind of song that is both heavy, musically involved, and surface-level appealing. That's the Baroness formula, and when it works as well as it did here, it kills.

"Shock Me" keeps the train rolling, with a riff that feels like slowed down black metal, and another chorus that is slyly anthemic. These are songs that I could hear a crowd in a dark venue singing back to the band, but despite that, there isn't even a hint of pop in the melodies to make you doubt that this is at heart classic rock. Finding that balance isn't easy at all. And when Baroness tosses off those tracks, and then follows with the sludgy dance track "Try To Disappear", I'm left shaking my head that this is the same band I was remembering from my past experiences.

We get some interesting detours along the way. The aforementioned track has an acoustic guitar that pops up to give texture to the chorus, an then we get "Kerosene", which could have been a Foo Fighters song, and I mean that as a sincere compliment.

After a short instrumental, "Chlorine & Wine" shows the more progressive part of the band's sound, expanding out to six minutes of music that covers soft jazz rhythms and driving rock and roll. There is some beautiful clean guitar playing in the introduction to the song that sets the stage for the increasing grit the band piles on. The strings that pop up in the background during the instrumental section are such a perfect touch that most bands would be afraid of including, because it could be considered too beautiful for rock and roll.

That feeling doesn't last, as "The Iron Bell" is a driving rocker, and "Desperation Burns" is the heaviest song on the record. But even there, the balance between heavy guitars and subtle melodies is strong enough that it doesn't feel like a song that was put there just to appease heavy rock fans. Frankly, if they don't like the softer, sprawling approach of "If I Have To Wake Up - Would You Stop The Rain", with the glorious melodic buildups, they should go back to listening to bands that share the collective power of one brain between all the members. "Purple" isn't meant for them.

With all of that being said, I wouldn't be giving an honest opinion if I didn't mention the album's one, glaring fault. I don't consider myself an audiophile, and I don't require perfection from the music I listen to, but the production of "Purple" is a disaster. There's a film of grime hanging over all these tracks that comes from the rampant over-compression of the music into a thin blanket of sound. The nature of the music makes it less obvious than it was on Metallica's failure, "Death Magnetic", but this is nearly as poorly executed. When the faint hints of acoustic guitar or strings come in, they sound as though they too are running through a cranked Marshall amp. It's a shame, because there's a lot of detail work that is lost and inaudible.

Production issues aside, let's say this about "Purple"; Baroness has taken such a massive leap in their songwriting with this album that they have catapulted themselves into another realm. This is the album they've been trying to make, and now that it's all fallen into place, Baroness has made the album that should take their career to the next level. If Mastodon is huge based on their mediocre records, "Purple" shows that Baroness should have that level of fame and acclaim. This is without a shred of doubt Baroness' best album yet, and it's one that has even converted me. Kudos, Baroness, you've done good.

Singles Roundup: Avantasia, Serenity, & Ricky Warwick

Just because it's December, the music industry hasn't forgotten about us. While album releases might be a bit slow, we just got an early present in the form of two big new singles. Let's take a look:

Avantasia - Mystery Of A Blood Red Rose

Every Avantasia record comes with great expectations, which are always made confusing with singles that don't give the whole picture of what the album is going to be. Hopefully, that won't be the case this time, because this single is the best one that Avantasia has every put out prior to a release. When I interviewed Tobi, he expressed his love for Meat Loaf, which comes through heavily on this track. The construction is pure Jim Steinman, and the backing vocals sound like they could have been put together by Todd Rundgren. This song could have easily fit on one of the "Bat Out Of Hell" records, which makes it awesome in my book. Cap that off with the fact that it has an irresistible hook, and we have ourselves a winner. I wasn't too keen on the previous album, but now I'm very excited to hear what else he's come up with.

Serenity - Iniquity

The last two Serenity albums have been disappointing, each containing only a handful of good songs that got lost amidst more tracks that were too busy, too dedicated to history, and watered down by concepts and extra singers. This song finds the band returning to their more modest symphonic roots, and succeeding very nicely. This is the band I remember liking so much, with well thought out strings, strong vocals, and warm melodies that hook you right away. This is one of the best tracks they've put out in years, and a very good indication that the upcoming album could find them righting the ship after a bit of time wandering the seas.

Ricky Warwick - The Road To Damascus Street

The current frontman of Black Star Riders is going to be releasing two new albums shortly into 2016, so this single can't possibly set the stage for all the music that's to come. What we have here is a solid enough track that showcases Ricky's trademark, laid-back style. There are times when it sounds a little bit too relaxed, particularly when the main riff wants the song to be a grinder, but the whoa-oh chorus brings things back into his comfort zone. This wouldn't be among the best material from his main band, but it's a solid track that tells me there will be much to enjoy when he makes his solo debut.

Album Review: Niche - "Heading East"

Niche is a soulful rock band hailing from the grassy fields of Savannah, Georgia, a rock band with a great understanding of how to mix in some generous blues and just a touch of folk.  Their third album, “Heading East” is a study in layered construction and multi-faceted writing.

Different listeners are going to have different experiences with “Heading East,” which sounds pedantic to say but let us explain; the album channels many of the rock pillars from yesteryear and takes a bite from each one’s hallowed apple.  The musical structures and lyrical rhythms are a reflection of many names we hold dear, like Pink Floyd, Cream, Simon and Garfunkel, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers and a dozen others.  So those at home may draw very conclusions about Niche depending on what their own musical experience is.  What’s beyond debate is that “Heading East” is a songwriter’s album that is fully aware of its own strengths and capitalizes on doing a few things very well rather than overextending.

One of the major tricks that Niche uses is a harmonic layering of vocals, either through the echoed replication of a single vocalist or just plain having two people sing.  As a rock audience, we’ve become so accustomed to the idea of twin guitar that it’s easy to forget that a six-string needn’t be the only kind of harmony that affects us.  Just listen to “On Down the Line” and take in the three-part vocals for a minute.  The song is stirring, not in the way that implores us to take action, but in the way that our ear is naturally tuned to enjoy multi-part harmony, which I suppose implores us to listen to more of that song.

Before I get too carried away speaking about music theory and physiology that’s way above my pay grade, let’s get back to the meat and potatoes of “Heading East.”  It’s a six-cut record that feels just about right in length, despite the small number of tunes.  Each song is a complete thought that takes between four and nine minutes, with none in particular feeling like they need to be longer or shorter, which in itself is an accomplishment.

Anyone who has spent significant time on a college campus would agree that any jerk with an acoustic guitar can write songs meant to be heartfelt or meaningful, often with pretentious and/or disastrous results.  So what makes Niche stand out is that these are emotional pieces composed with great care and, in the mangled words of Tommy Wiseau, meticulous planning.  It would have been easy enough to cash in an easy ballad like “Sweet Dear Anne” with the usual template and call it a day, but the song instead is a multi-layered, articulate song of longing with organ, guitar and vocal all mixed to give different impressions through the different steps of the song.

The only thing that wish Niche had done for “Heading East” was show a little more urgency, a little more often.  There’s nothing wrong with the compositions they have for what they are, but the pacing and up-tempo melody of “Tough and Mean” is so catchy and artistically powerful as a contrast to the rest of the record that it stands out above and beyond what surrounds it.

Same goes for the lengthy, energetic outro of “Days to Come.”  It’s a classic rock staple to have that one long, wandering journey close out an album, but this one is notable for its suddenly rocking outro with a heavy dose of twin guitar and steadily beating percussion.  Between these two examples, one wonders why Niche doesn’t employ this tool more often, as it is clearly a strength.

Nevertheless, the folksy colors of Niche’s “Heading East” and its peaceful attitude make for a relaxing and refreshing change of pace.  It’s a winter release that drops just a few of the best parts of summer back into our laps for the duration of the record.  If you need an album of well-heeled songwriting that brings some good rock to the table, “Heading East” is a good fit, and by the by, it won’t harsh your mellow.

Entry Point: Elvis Costello - When I Was Cruel

When we are lucky, we find out about a new artist with the buzz leading up to their debut, and we can then follow them throughout their career, watching their growth and progression. Being there from the ground floor, seeing everything, in context, as it happens, is the best-case scenario. It's through that symbiotic relationship that we can feel more a part of someone's music, and we develop a relationship with that artist that can deepen throughout time.

But let's be honest; that kind of luck is exceedingly rare. The vast majority of the time, we find our way to our favorite artists long after that point of genesis, and the particular time and place we come on board will affect everything we will ever think about them. Pick the wrong time, or the wrong album, to begin with, and a career's worth of great music can be thrown aside by a negative first impression.

I would love to say that I was there in 1977 when Elvis Costello released "My Aim Is True", and I heard the spark of a legend igniting in the grooves of the vinyl. I would also love to say that I heard "Armed Forces" at a time when Thatcher's England created the venom dripping from his lyrics. I can't say either of those things. I was not alive when those records were released, nor was I cognizant of Elvis when he was releasing "King Of America" and "Blood & Chocolate". My story begins somewhere else entirely.

In the early part of this new millennium, I took advantage of the developing catalog of history that was made possible by the internet. Back when the site was simpler, and easier to navigate, I would spend hours at a time reading reviews on Allmusic.com of albums and artists I had never heard of, going down the rabbit hole of suggested artists that radiated from my few favorites.

Reading through the credits, I saw the name Elvis Costello listed as singing backing vocals on The Wallflowers song "Murder 101". A few clicks later, I was staring at a lengthy list of albums, many of which were rated as perfect five star efforts. I read through all those reviews, multiple times, and was intrigued enough that I knew Elvis Costello was someone I needed to listen to. The problem I faced was how to decide where to start, when the discography was as large and accomplished as his.

The year was 2002, so I was fortunate that news was just breaking that he was about to release a new album, his first rock album in many years. That struck me as the perfect place to start, although that reasoning doesn't stand up to logic or scrutiny. It was all I had, so I went with it.

That album was "When I Was Cruel", a record I have come to realize was a bizarre place to begin. For starters, despite Elvis' reputation for being a master of pop songcraft, there is little to no pop influence on the record. Likewise, the integration of drum loops, sampling, and scuzzy garage rock production didn't mesh with the stories I had read. I was expecting glistening guitar pop, and instead got a record that was ahead of its time, in terms of fusing rock music with electronic sounds and digital recording.

The dark production of the record is both its greatest strength, and the reason it is so rarely mentioned when listing Costello's career highlights. Listening to this album for the full hour it takes to reach its conclusion is not always an easy task, with the sound hurled out of the speakers with muffled tones, the guitars more jagged than ever, Costello's rasped and sneered vocals pushed to the point of breaking up. That particular atmosphere enhances the bitter coming of middle age the album represents, the realization that with age does not come wisdom, only new observations on cruel misery.

But at the same time, that sound is too abrasive for the album to be universally beloved, even when it contains some of the best songwriting of Elvis' career. Frankly, it's a difficult album to listen to, which I say as someone who considers "When I Was Cruel" to be one of my most formative experiences as a music fan.

While Elvis has engaged in long form composition before, with "Tokyo Storm Warning" and "I Want You", he mastered the craft here. "Alibi" is one of his best ever songs, the first and only time that he was able to turn the rote monotony of repetition into something greater. That song slowly builds the tension through its cro-magnon bassline, expertly breaking up the increasingly deranged excuses we give with brief flashes of ironic melody. When he sings "if I've done something wrong, there's no ifs or buts, because I love you just as much as I hate your guts", it's not just a clever one-liner, it drives to the very core of the song. We both love him for writing such addictive music, and hate him for toying with us.

In another setting, "Tart" could have been one of the most beautiful compositions of his career. With a tragic piano figure, and a lyric that uses banal detail to squeeze the acid out of life's fruit, the song is nearly flawless. But the dense production strips the song down to its dirty basics, as Elvis and Steve Nieve aren't able to polish the song into the sequel for the lush "Man Out Of Time" it begs to be. We're left with the sense of disappointment in not getting the song we want, which is astutely captured in the ironic title.

That is the story of the entire record, a set of songs that on the surface delivers the raucous Elvis Costello that fans had clamored for, but underneath contained an experimental songcraft that indulged Elvis' penchant for denying people what they wanted.

A challenging record of this sort was precisely the wrong way to introduce myself to Elvis Costello. I listened to the record over and over, and failed to grasp the intricacies of what I was hearing. I still went back and listened to the 'classic' records, and they gave me the sugar rush I was craving. "My Aim Is True" and "Armed Forces" were the immediately gratifying records that gave me faith in Elvis, while "King Of America" was my songwriting bible when I took up the task myself.

But all along, there was a nagging though in the back of my mind. I would occasionally return to "When I Was Cruel", and each time I did, with time and experience helping me grow, I found more and more to love. Now, as I listen once again, I'm struck by how it is "When I Was Cruel", above all the other great records Elvis has made, that I most vividly remember. Yes, it was my first, but it also stands out as a more sophisticated venture than it was ever purported to be. There is a grand artistic statement buried in the layers of these loud rock songs, and even if it took me years to get there, I believe I have uncovered them.

I feel certain that I would have become a fan of Elvis Costello, regardless of which album I chose to listen to first. But with luck pointing me to "When I Was Cruel", I have to believe I wouldn't be the same kind of fan. If I had started with his most pop records, I would have likely brushed aside everything else that didn't fit my simple tastes. By starting with such a challenging record, and burning it into my mind before I knew better than to move on to greener pastures, I unknowingly set myself on the path to challenge myself as a listener. In some ways, "When I Was Cruel" is a reference to the way I became an Elvis Costello fan, and now it is a record that I can't imagine being without.

Album Review: Junkstars - This Means War

As we wind down the year, we have the opportunity to look back and give a chance to some records that we weren't able to get to at the time of their release, since there is too much music out there for us to get to everything (I realize how that sounds like a first-world problem). Some records, even ones we mean to get to, slip through the cracks. That happened with this album, which suffered the misfortune of coming out at a time when I was so thoroughly engrossed in others that it completely slipped my mind. But there's nothing wrong with being a bit late to the party, so let's take a look at what Junkstars have for us.

We open up with the natural theme for the Pittsburgh Steelers, "Kill The Ravens", which is the kind of dirty rock and roll that has one foot firmly in the Motorhead camp, but then ups the ante with a chorus that bends in a more melodic direction than Lemmy usually cares for. The guitars have a bit too much fuzz on them for my liking, but the song is a solid entry that gets things started the right way.

"Romance Of Death" is a more raucous song, taking a pass on the melody, and actually reminding me of the Foo Fighters' attempts at proving their rock credentials. While they thankfully don't resort to as much screaming, the song runs through its riffs without giving us much to hear other than the energy. It's a tact that has worked for bands like Motorhead, but they have the charisma to pull it off, and not many bands do.

We get a few of those style tracks here, in the form of "Monster Blood" and "Snakebites". They're inoffensive, but don't really have much working in their favor. "Old Mans Dead House" is a better track, with verses that swing like an Irish pub band. That feeling is both interesting and enjoyable, which makes it a letdown when the chorus can't kick things up yet another notch. "Unrighteous Grave" finally does that, using the punk basis to up the ante and crank out a song that is vital. The record actually ends on a great note, with the last three songs all throwing that little bit of melody back into the mix that makes the music go down easier.

I don't want to come down hard on Junkstars, because there's nothing wrong with "This Means War". It's a fine little punk/rock hybrid album, but it wanders off a bit too much for my taste in the middle, which is tough to excuse on a record that takes half an hour to reach its conclusion. It's a record that has a few pretty good songs, and a few that aren't quite as good. Hasn't punk always been like that?

Album Review: Autopsy - "Skull Grinder"

In a year when we spent a lot of time and column space listening for something that was new and avant garde, it’s paradoxically refreshing to hear another record from those untouchable kings of guts and gore, Autopsy.  While Autopsy has long remained a somewhat predictable bedrock of anguish and unquestionably over-the-top malevolence in metal, this new effort “Skull Grinder” drips with a few new entrails and gives us a fresher coating of coagulated slime in comparison to the usual proceedings.  The album’s very style of release is testament to Autopsy’s dedication to the traditions of the old school, as the record is a vinyl-only release.

Before we get carried away though, let’s make sure to anchor firmly in the reality of Autopsy.  For their particular audience, Autopsy has entered into that all but rarefied air of music that’s traditionally reserved for seminal acts like AC/DC and Motörhead – that lofty strata where the band has mastered their particular craft, they throw few curve balls, and the fans expect nothing more or less.  “Skull Grinder” may have some slight deviations from what we know as the Autopsy straight and narrow, but make no mistake, all roads lead to the same destination.

One of those deviations all but leads the album however, as the breakout of “Strung Up and Gutted” appears early to wake up the listener and aurally shake them into Autopsy’s nightmare.  The fury of the song combined with the simplicity of the riff alludes to Autopsy’s somewhat dormant but always existent punk roots.

Coming off of that, the real takeaway of “Skull Grinder” is the impressive guitar work of Eric Cutler and Danny Coralles.  They bend solos into the corners of songs where normally Autopsy wouldn’t dare place them, lending just a little artistic flavor to the macabre groaning and imaginative if visceral imagery of Chris Reifert.  The title track may thud along with the usual hardcore and doom pastiche that we’ve come to love from the band. but there’s an emergent overlay of six-string madness that lends some depth to the baseline and creates a more immersive experience.

As the B side picks up, we return more regularly to the boilerplate style of Autopsy.  It feels like a sort of ridiculous homecoming to hear “Sanity Bleeds,” a plodding, merciless fugue with Reifert moaning about this horror or another.

That feeling persists until we reach “Waiting for the Screams” which best balances the two aspects of “Skull Grinder”: the crunch of Autopsy’s measured wailing and the riffs created by Cutler and Coralles.  This is the cut most likely to move the pile, the one that will have the meat sacs bouncing into each other in a sweaty, stringy-haired mosh pit.

For those who have never experience Autopsy, “Skull Grinder” is as good a place to get on board as any, and actually might be superior to the last couple of EPs, splits, albums or whatever.  For those who have followed the band lo, these nearly twenty years, it’s business as usual, with perhaps a little refresher of artistry in the hardcore doom vein.  This record isn’t a world changer, but it is a fitting addition to Autopsy’s paradigm.

Album Review: Firespawn - "Shadow Realms"

I hate it when this happens.  It seems to happen a couple times every year.  In recent memory, it happened most egregiously in the study of Lonewolf’s album “The Fourth and Final Horseman.”  Here we go again.  Given that half of upstarts Firespawn is composed of members of Entombed, I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised.

Firespawn, a band that combines the power of several different bands, including those previously mentioned and Dark Funeral, aims to give the listener a taste of death metal as it perhaps should have evolved all along.  Their new record “Shadow Realms” gives us the authenticity of death metal’s dark roots with the high articulation we’ve come to expect from the genre in this new millennium.  Throughout the album’s length, the guitar exhibition put on by Victor Brandt is both artistic and requisitely sharp; his accents harmonize well with the undulating rhythms underneath and his skillful note selection serves not only to add embellishment to the pieces, but to highlight the foundations of each track.

Now, he’s not blowing us away with furious riffs that would rival the greatest creations of Yngwie, but he doesn’t need to, either, because 1) there’s more to effective guitar playing than simple speed and scale and 2) Ingwie is a dick and who wants to be like him, anyway?  Nevertheless, Brandt’s creativity helps songs like “Spirit of the Black Tide” and “All Hail” get off the ground, as he lays down solid, old-school soloing that appeals to the classic death metal fan in us all.

“Imperial Burning” is arguably Brandt’s and the album’s finest moment, combining a simple but sinister infectious riff with the heavy steps of death metal threaded throughout.  The guitar solo that peaks through close to the conclusion is bright by comparison, but serves as a proper stark contrast to what came before, and also lends a little context to the title of the song, as though Brandt were trying to articulate what the lapping flames of a roaring blaze might sound like.

And now we loop back to the beginning – hate it when this happens.  Here’s where things get dicey; while the music of Firespawn is energetic and up-tempo and appropriately dark and dire, the vocal delivery of Lars Göran Petrov is….well, awful might not be too strong a word.  His is not a comically bad delivery as so many metal singers are either through intention or accident.  Rather, it’s just plain difficult to withstand an entire album of his groaning his way through monotone utterances like Chris Reifert on a weekend bender.  The song “Necromance,” amid many of the titles we’ve already discussed, would be a great track, but the vocal performance is dry and mismatched, the constant, repetitious groaning of Petrov dragging on ad nauseum.

There is a threshold at which the music of Firespawn would be so transcendent that the vocal delivery, not matter how abrasive, would be forgettable or forgivable.  Reluctantly, while “Shadow Realms” is enjoyable enough as an aural assault, the tunes are not so singularly impressive as to overcome their one crippling weakness.

Monster Truck is Coming Back!

MONSTER TRUCK’S “SITTIN’ HEAVY” TO BE RELEASED
FEBRUARY 19TH VIA DINE ALONE RECORDS IN NORTH AMERICA



Attentive readers may remember that a couple years back, in a different place altogether, Monster Truck's debut "Furiosity" cracked my year-end top ten list.  Well, they're gonna take another shot at it in 2016.  Details below!

“Monster Truck is one of the few really great down to earth rock ‘n’ roll bands... they’re hard, soulful and heavy” – Slash

(New York, NY) – Juno-Award winning rock outfit Monster Truck have just announced that their highly anticipated sophomore album, SITTIN’ HEAVY, will be released February 19th, 2016 on Dine Alone Records in North America, Australia and New Zealand and via Mascot Records/Mascot Label Group in Europe. The album is available to pre-order via the band’s webstore, Dine Alone webstore and iTunes. Those who pre-order the record via iTunes will instantly receive “Don’t Tell Me How to Live” and the anthemic new track “The Enforcer”.

Last month, Monster Truck teased the new record with the release of the highly contagious first single “Don’t Tell Me How to Live”. The lead track catapulted into the Top 5 at Canadian Rock radio in just three weeks and is already becoming a sports arena favourite, having been featured during a number of major sports events over the past few weeks.

Produced by the award-winning Eric Ratz (Billy Talent, Cancer Bats), SITTIN’ HEAVY was recorded at Vespa Studios, Revolution Recording in Toronto and Monster Truck’s new jam-space studio. The 11-song collection is a glorious hard rocking statement, retaining all of the ingredients that enabled Monster Truck to break out of the box whilst continuing a gradual evolution expanding upon ideas established at the quartet’s inception. Month after month spent on the road has served to improve them as a band, just as it should, fundamentally because they looked around and learned.

“Touring the last record we’ve been privileged to play with a lot of great headlining acts,” says guitarist Jeremy Widerman. “For instance, when we opened for Slash we would pick up on how accurately he controls the Wah pedal, and we wanted to include some of that in our own songs. Or touring with Alice In Chains and watching their vocal harmonies and realizing that we needed to strengthen up in that area – so we did. There are so many little ways to hone our sound.”

Monster Truck is Jon Harvey (vocals, bass), Jeremy Widerman (guitars, vocals), Brandon Bliss (organ, vocals) and Steve Kiely (drums, vocals).

Album Review: Voodoo Circle - Whisky Fingers

If you're paying attention to the European rock scene, specifically the kind that pays heavy homage to the 80s, you'll notice that it is quite incestuous. There are countless bands now that share members, which has in a way diluted the music, and made it harder for anyone to stand out with an individual identity. Voodoo Circle is not immune to this, being a band fronted by Pink Cream 69 singer David Readman, and now joined by producer and songwriter Alessandro el Vecchio, who has been a behind-the-scenes part of more records than I can even name. The move is good for Voodoo Circle, but does it come with a cost?

"Trapped In Paradise" opens the album with a fast riff, and organs thickening up the sound. Readman and del Vecchio share the vocal duties, and then the chorus hits, and leaves me scratching my head. It sounds like it wants to take off, but it's over as soon as it starts. It almost sounds to me like the tape was played back at the wrong speed. It's an odd start, to be certain, although the elements on their own show plenty of promise.

The next song, "Heartbreaking Woman", throws together a dramatic opening riff, a verse than sounds like pure 70s KISS, and then a chorus that ventures headlong into the blues. For two songs in a row, there's something odd about the songwriting that doesn't feel quite organic, as though they were assembled from random parts the band had lying around from previous writing sessions. I can't shake that feeling listening to "Watch And Wait (I Got My Eye On You)", which segues between acoustic guitars, arena rock, and plugging bass without much in the way of segues. The main hooks of the song, yes there are two, are really good, but they're put together in a manner that has me scratching my head.

I really enjoy the ballad "The Day The Walls Came Down", which plays into every cliche of power ballads, but I couldn't care less. Cliche or not, power ballads work for a reason, and this one does too. They're often the only time that rock bands settle down and focus on a melody, which is a complaint I can register for a good portion of this record. The band is rocking, and doing the expected things, but the songs aren't anchored with as many hooks as I would like to hear, which is a bit of a surprise, considering who is now in the band.

I'm not saying the record is bad by any stretch of the imagination. It's certainly enjoyable to sit down and listen to, but it feels a bit faceless, given how much of this kind of music is being put out. I don't hear anything in Voodoo Circle, either in the songs or the sounds, that I could pick out of a lineup. They sound like many other bands that are playing the same style, which means that it will be easy to like them, and hard to remember them.

Maybe I'm being a bit harsh, since I've been revisiting all the great albums of the year to compile my year-end list of highlights, but compared to what has already come out, "Whisky Fingers" just doesn't hit me as hard. It's fine music, but I'm looking for something more.