Quick Reviews: Simone Simmons & Leprous

Here's a couple of albums I wouldn't be covering if I had to fill an entire review with thoughts I don't have:

Simone Simmons - Vermillion

You know how there are some people you know are talented, but are in a band you can't bring yourself to like? That's how I feel about Simone Simmons, who I know is a great singer, but I have never been able to get into Epica's brand of technically symphonic beauty-and-the-beast metal. The idea of her making a solo album is great, because it might finally be an opportunity for me to hear her in a better setting where I can fully appreciate her abiltities...

And then she partners up with Arjen from Ayreon, who might be the single most boring songwriter I've ever heard. I have also never liked Ayreon, or any of his other projects, so the combination is rife for disappointment. And disappoint it does.

The album is filled with slow songs trying to wring drama out of the affair, but they drag so much Simone's notes never amount to a strong melody. It's a series of pretty sounds that don't add up to much of anything. As good as she is from a technical standpoint, I don't think she has the charisma to carry a record entirely on her own, and these songs would require that kind of herculean effort. This one adds up to a record you can easily skip without missing out on anything.

Leprous - Melodies Of Atonement

A few albums ago, Leprous found 'their sound', which is also a slow and plodding style that focuses on emotiona vocals than melodic construction. The off-kilter riffs and rhythms make it difficult to grasp onto anything from these songs but the vocals, and maybe the style works for some people, but not for me. The delivery is histrionic, not emotional, to my ears. It's wailing without any pain behind it, which leaves the record feeling rather cold and lifeless.

What does interest me about the record is hearing some people describe it as 'emo', because I'm not sure how in the heck they come to that conclusion. I will grant that this doesn't sound like prog metal, despite them still being labelled a prog metal band, but emo is completely out of left field.

Leprous is kind of like taking the most boring ballad you can think of, then breaking up the musical notes into more random combinations. Maybe it's interesting if you sit down and chart the intersection of math, but it isn't enjoyable to listen to. It's that two hour movie that could have easily been done as a thirty minute short film, because there just isn't any meat to the story. Leprous is nice cinematography with no plot.

Album Review: Within The Ruins - "Phenomena II"

Good news and bad news.  

Good news first.  Within The Ruins’ new album, “Phenomena II” is tremendously skillful, as deft an execution of brutal but still accessible metalcore as there exists in the genre.  The band remains totally unique amidst their brethren, still willing to eschew the sheer viciousness of their genre in favor of an ultra-clean guitar sound and high-flying melodies, studded with blistering solos.  Everything that makes this band great and novel remains gloriously intact.

Bad news. “Phenomena II” sounds absolutely identical to the previous album, “Black Heart.”  Wiping away the familiarity over the past four years with “Black Heart,” to put the combined twenty-one songs of the two albums into a big pool and draw them out, it would be nearly impossible to discern which was from which album.

This is the perpetual pitfall of a genre like metalcore and those akin to it – the boundaries are so specific, the tenets of the genre so rigidly unbending (and the auditory distortion and vocal growling so unceasing,) that bands can, and often do, struggle to differentiate their pieces.  (The Browning, cousins to metalcore, suffered from a similar issue.  They made a noble attempt to break some conventions for “Geist,” but were ultimately unsuccessful.)

Listen, let’s not get too far down the rabbit hole here.  None of this is to say that “Phenomena II” isn’t good, or isn’t worth listening to.  It’s easy to focus on the negative, but focus instead on everything that was said in the first paragraph.  Still plenty of good news here.  Within The Ruins is still the gold standard for technical metalcore; nothing there has been altered.

As it has been in the past, the band is at their best when experimenting with instrumentals.  “Level 12” is a glorious ride – it changes pace, alters cadence, offers glimpses of the prowess of the players, both in the playing and in the mastering.  Every instrument, every musicians, has a voice in this song, it’s just that there’s no vocals.

Same goes for “Death Mask,” which, if you can hear the thread under the top layer, is the best thrash instrumental in ages.  There’s a breakdown around the 2:15 mark that is delicious in its simplicity of riff, contrast to the rest of the tune (and the album,) and then it transitions into a brief but tuneful solo.

One might be so bold as to suggest that this kind of songwriting, but coupled with vocals, would make for a truly extraordinary Within The Ruins experience.

So look, this is what it comes down to.  If you’re already familiar with Within The Ruins, grab this if for no other reason than “Death Mask,” and don’t be shocked when it feels like you’ve heard it all before.  If you’re never heard Within The Ruins before, this is a great record that will serve as a perfect entry point.

Singles Roundup: Blink 182, Jerry Cantrell, & Daughtry

The needle is pointing a certain direction this week...

Blink 182 - No Fun/All In My Head

Did you think the Blink 182 reunion was really about three friends getting back together because they missed each other? Ha! The band is not readying to release a second album in this comeback phase, but rather attaching eight new songs to the record they've already put out, so their biggest fans who've already bought the album will have to now buy it again. That is a bullshit move even one of my favorite bands pulled (I did not buy the updated version of that one, out of principle), but it goes even beyond the cynical greed of a band that was once supposedly 'punk'.

They have put out the first two songs from the new batch, and they paint the picture of a band who doesn't want to be doing any of this. The first of these songs begins by interpolating one of their own melodies, which isn't a good sign. It gets worse when you get to the end of both songs and realize they are entirely about how much they don't enjoy being in this band and being on the road. So if they hate the touring life, why are they doing it? And perhaps the better question; Why do they think complaining to us about how hard it is to be them is going to engender sympathy?

That aside, these fall under the same umbrella as the album did last year. Blink hasn't had their knack for snotty pop hooks like they once did for many, many years. These songs have no bite, no comedy, and no emotional resonance either. They sound tired, which isn't helped by the continued muppet-ification of Tom's voice. Even the good moments now don't sound at all like Blink if he doesn't have his mouth shut. The only good thing I can say about any of this is that at least it makes me think about a "Muppets Go Punk" album, and how that would bring much more of a smile to my face than what Blink has been doing.

Jerry Cantrell - Vilified

Not much has changed in the world of Jerry Cantrell. This song could get plunked down in any Alice In Chains record and feel appropriate. His guitar has the same dark tone it always has, but perhaps there's a bit more bounce in the rhythm than in the truly grunge days. It rides a groove, waiting for the moment his wail can rise up. It's a solid track, if maybe a bit unspectacular for a lead single, but what I find most interesting is the question that comes to mind; Why another solo album and not a return for Alice In Chains? The extra vocal interplay could certainly help elevate this song even more. It isn't disappointing, but it isn't quite satisfying either.

Daughtry - The Reckoning

This is another experiment in release strategy, and perhaps I'm just too old for this stuff. This song is the latest to come off the first of two EPs that will someday combine to make a new album. I don't know... EPs rarely feel satisfying, and they never do when I know it's a stopgap before more music is coming. Anyway, this song serves as another reminder that Daughtry is one of those people who perfectly illustrates why I feel stuck in the past. I love his first two albums, but little else since then. This song has the kind of chorus I expect from him, with plenty of hook and power. The issue is getting there, where the song is rather dour. I'm not sure why his music lost its sheen over time, but it has less personality, and just comes across as less likeable to me. I think this whole project might be a bit too much trying on my patience to be worth it.

Moving On From My Favorite Band

There are two fundamental questions we face as music fans that cut to the very core of our identities; What is your favorite album?, and What is your favorite band?

It's easy to fall into reflexive patterns where we settle on an answer when we are of a certain age, and let inertia take its course. The way our culture talks about love, we don't always remember it is malleable, and the idea of permanent and enduring love is a bit of a fantasy. In order for love to last, the relationship needs to stay relevant. That can come in the form of new albums and new songs that deepen the attachment, but it can also be as simple as finding those old songs resonating in new ways as we make our way through life.

Despite my penchant for over-thinking everything, I am as guilty of this as anyone. I settled on my favorite band twenty-five years ago, when the music was fresh and I didn't have all that much experience diving into being a fan. It was absolutely true at the time, and since then I have maintained the same answer because it felt comfortable. I assumed it was still true, but I didn't do much introspection to ensure it was. Giving the rote answer was fine with me.

Life doesn't allow for much to be etched in stone, however, as even the hardest rock slowly erodes with time. Over the last fourteen years the aforementioned band hasn't released an album, the edges of the carving they made on me have indeed softened as the sands of time have blown over them. Being a figment of the past for that long has indeed impacted my thinking, as I spend enough time listening to new and recent albums that the old favorites become more of a comfort food than anything. Some of them stay fresh in my heart, while others slowly lose their flavor.

A few years ago, I made the realization that my favorite album of all time had changed. It was obvious to me for a while, but it wasn't until I contemplated the nearly 10:1 ratio of times I listened to the new choice versus the old choice that I admitted it. Consistency may be a virtue in some places, but not all. Loving the same album for your entire life more than any other does not bestow us with any credit. It is far more virtuous to take stock of life, to admit things have changed, and to embrace where you are now.

And so, that brings us today, where I am ready to admit that after all this time, my favorite band is no longer my favorite band. Of course I still love their music, and it's not as if they're slipping far down the list, but I can't lie to myself any longer and say that theirs is the most important music in my life. Times have changed, I have changed, and the feeling those albums gave me is no longer the feeling I need.

I mentioned the concept of comfort food, and that is where this decision comes from. In recent times, I have relied on favorite albums to get me through times when my mood needed to be lifted up and brought back from the recesses. Music might not have always been effective at doing that, but my old favorite band was less successful than many others. There was now a disconnect between them and me, which I can't say is inevitable, because where I have ended up is even more nostalgic.

Maybe it was always true, and I simply got tired of having to explain myself. I can say now, as I did thirty years ago, that my favorite band/artist is the combination of Meat Loaf and Jim Steinman. Together or separate, the style and songs those two created are not just the core of who I am as a music fan, but it is the music I still reach for when I need music the most.

Part of me hates saying that, because reverting to my very first musical love feels like I am tossing aside everything I say about critical thinking. However, you can't explain away feelings, and my philosophical studies had actually led me years ago to the belief that what we consider ethics are largely emotions put through the pretense of logic. In that sense, it rings quite true that I should find myself making the case on emotional terms. That is what we are, at our core. We are emotional creatures, not rational ones.

So if you ask me today, this is my answer. If you ask me tomorrow, perhaps it will change to something else. What I can say for sure is that I won't be giving the reflexive answer any longer. I will be honest with myself about what I love, because now that I have stepped over that line, there's nothing left to fear. I can be a mess of confusing, ever-changing thoughts, and that's ok.

The music told me this decades ago. I'm just starting to catch on.

Album Review: Yours Truly - Toxic

In the midst of a depressing year, the last thing I need is to have another promising band come out and disappoint me. Yours Truly is one of the brightest young bands out there, having won Album Of The Year from me with their first full-length. I adore "Self Care", and consider it an integral part of my own, well, self care. That record was a trip through the therapeutic process, an example of finding hope in the darkest of times. That was a theme that carried through several years of albums I found myself loving the most, but I don't think anyone did it better than Yours Truly. With that record and their EPs, they had put themselves at the top of ladder of new bands.

That was dampened a bit with their most recent EP, which showed the band going in more modern directions, and with less of that silver lining poking through. Those songs didn't have the same warm embrace, the same way of making me feel like things could indeed get better one day.

Their second full-length continues in that style, with more modern heaviness, and less of the sweet and shimmering melody of their earlier work. Times are tough, and I get that sometimes venting isn't going to sound pretty. They are dealing more with the anger and frustration of life throwing obstacles in their way, while my bent is more in the way of depression that needs a light to shine for me to find my way back. So while this record might be more aggressive, that is a less inviting sound if you do not share their mindset.

Mikaila still belts her way through the songs with her usual flair for hooks. Her sharp tone lets them cut deeper, which is necessary here, because those hooks are out for blood, rather than keeping us close. That results in an album which goes all-out, and never concerns itself with whether we are able to catch our breath and keep up. If you say they fall under the umbrella of pop-punk, this record is more 40-60 pop to punk, while "Self Care" was the inverse.

The other glaring thing about this record is that it clocks in at only 28 minutes. We're in that uncanny valley where it's difficult to tell if we're listening to an album or an EP. The distinction doesn't only matter to those of us who obsess over categorization, it makes a difference in how satisfying this record is. If this is a long EP, it delivers a solid amount of good songs to make it a fun time. If it's an album, though, I find myself wanting more. Less than half an hour is barely enough time to get fully immersed in their sound, and it does feel a bit incomplete. Weezer got away with it on "The Green Album", but that was almost a curiosity, and it was a record so stuffed with pop hooks that listening to it back-to-back was easy. Yours Truly doesn't quite fit that bill.

So this is where I have to make sure I'm being clear about my feelings. "Toxic" is a good album, full stop. Yours Truly always write good songs, and that is no exception here.

Being good isn't always enough, though. My expectations for Yours Truly are immensely high, and that is why I'm saying this album is disappointing. Knowing how good they can be, and have been, this doesn't reach those same heights. If "Self Care" didn't exist, or if this record had two more songs on it to feel a bit more complete, I'm sure I would be less critical.

When you expect another Album Of The Year contender, and you get an album that is more likely to compete for the last spots on the list, it's easy to get hung up on the disappointment. I'm still going to be listening to "Toxic" plenty, and perhaps it will grow on me enough to overcome my expectations. I'm going to give it more chances, and you should too. Yours Truly deserves the benefit of the doubt.

Album Review: Dampf - "No Angels Alive"

 

I hate Dampf.  Which is to say, I love Dampf, and I hate how much I love them.  (I promise this is the only part of this review which is about me.)

There are a lot of metal bands on the planet Earth.  More than can be named or reasonably counted, never mind actually listened to or documented.  But the number is high.  

And the sad truth is that many (trying not to say “most”) of them suck.  They’re either derivative or boring or uninventive, or their suffer some manner of ideological problem, like thinking that the only pure music is recorded live in a hotel hallway in downtown Dresden, Germany.  More often than we’d like to admit, metal devolves into a sound that is (sometimes literally,) like banging two potted plants together and recording the aftermath.

Enter Dampf.  A band started kinda on a whim when a friend of Swedish electronic dance artist E-Type dared him to write a metal album.  That was “The Arrival,” and it was so good and so catchy and so well constructed, that it necessitated a second album, and here we are with “No Angels Alive.” And it is just as well executed and fun to listen to as its predecessor.  

Which, frankly, the metal community should be embarrassed at the fact that for all their number, this electronic guy can so easily traipse into the midst of the genre and absolutely nail metal in a way that so few understand.

It’s clear that A-TRON (electronic stage name E-Type) has a blueprint for his metal songs, and then like a housing development from the ‘80s, has come up with a dozen variations of the basic blueprint.  Which is genius when foraying into territory that doesn’t feel like your home base.  

The plan goes something like this – huge, layered, singalong chorus, consistent, constant rhythm, high contrast melody, poignant guitar solo, upbeat inflections, high beats per minute in the verses.  The sliders adjust from track to track – a little more electronic here, a little more harsh vocal there, a little slower here, a little heavier there, and in the end, you have ten songs that all share the same blood, but all feel a little different.

And it’s damn near perfect.  “Masquerade,” the album’s prominent single, might be the catchiest song I’ve heard this year, just as “From the E-Ternity” was on the band’s debut album.

I will say this – “No Angels Alive” is a little more power-ballad-y than “The Arrival” was, and that colors the experience depending on your opinion of power ballads.  That doesn’t mean those songs are lesser in construction; “Heart of Darkness” is a fun listen that strikes a good balance between metal roots and cinematic melodrama.

Even if you’re not a fan of that though, there’s still plenty here to like, particularly as Dampf really reaches and spreads their wings for the power metal opus of “Mists of Avalon (Don’t Wake Me Up).”

Either way, it remains joyously embarrassing at how easily Dampf has arrived on the scene and smoked most of their contemporaries, especially considering how seriously metal takes itself.  This is too much fun to be ignored or discarded for so petty a reason as spite.

Singles Roundup: Opeth & Ad Infinitum/Melissa Bonny

There's a big one this week.

Opeth - S1

The growls are back. That is pretty much the only headline made by Opeth's newest song, and it has created a discourse that frustrates me to no end. Yes, Opeth has reintroduced growling for the first time since "Watershed", but that isn't an important fact. If you look at most of the commentary about this song, that is the only thing most people are mentioning, which completely misses the point. Whether something is heavy, or whether it has growls or not, say absolutely nothing about the quality of the song. They are descriptors of facets, not of worth. In fact, few of the people I've seen comment on the song have bothered to talk about the composition at all. They're all so focused on the growling that nothing else seems to matter, which tells me those are the sorts of people who enjoy certain tones of noise more than they do actual music.

I say that because if you look beyond the novelty of growling, the composition is the same tuneless prog Opeth has been engaged in for the last fourt albums. The instruments do some interesting things, but it's wrapped up in a song that has no main melody at all. They are fragments of ideas stitched together in the most boring way possible. That has been Opeth's problem all along. It wasn't that they ditched growling, it was that Mikael stopped writing memorable melodies for himself. We can debate exactly why that happened, but the only difference between this song and those albums that were disappointing to so many is the tone of voice Mikael is using.

Growling a weak vocal line doesn't make it more interesting than singing it clean. This is a boring Opeth song that continues the boring era of the band. And with the album proposing to be a full concept suite, filled with narration and flute, telling the story of the reading of a man's will.... I'm already penciling it in for my worst of the year list. I can't find a single thing about this song, and the information already dropped about the album, that appeals to me.

Or, as the media would put it... "But his growls!"

Ad Infinitum - My Halo / Melissa Bonny - Gravitate

After a great album last year, Ad Infinitum is not letting their momentum wane. They already have a new album scheduled for this fall, and the first single shows us they remain a rather polarizing band for me. They are a fully modern band, which means there are too many influences that come through in their songs. "My Halo" has a good hook to it, which is all you really need, unless everything leading up to that falls too flat. Unfortunately, that's what happens here. The verses throw harsh vocals into the mix, which you could say add a heaviness, but it neutralizes the band's single best element; Melissa Bonny's voice. She is amazing, and anytime the vocals don't highlight that, it's a misstep. Also a misstep is the truly annoying blips of synth that come in after the chorus. The electronic elements add to the modern feel, but the particular sounds they have chosen are off-putting, and do not make me want to listen to the song again. It's a shocking decline in appeal from "Chapter III", and a damn shame.

At the same time, Melissa Bonny has released a solo single, which does some of the same things, but in a far more effective manner. "Gravitate" is still modern and heavy, but done with a sense of pop fun, letting her voice shine on a more infectious hook. I get why this might be a bit too mainstream for Ad Infinitum, but the two sides do not need to be pulled so far apart. "Chapter III" bridged the gap perfectly, and this song actually feels like the more logical continuation of Ad Infinitum's evolution. Their own song feels more like a detour than a natural turn. If this song is an indication of one side to Melissa's musical heart, I would embrace a full album going down this road. There's no reason she couldn't become as big as Amaranthe doing this style. She has more than enough talent.

Album Vs Album: Bat Out Of Hell vs Bat Out Of Hell II

Over the last thirty years, Meat Loaf has been one of the few constants in my life. Whatever else may be going on, Jim Steinman's song and Meat's voice have always been there for me. I suppose "Rock & Roll Dreams Come Through" was more truth than my younger self had ever assumed. For personal reasons, I have found myself listening to more Meat Loaf recently than usual, which I realize is not a good sign for where my head is at right now.

That leads to the inevitable question for me; which album is the superior one, "Bat Out Of Hell" or "Bat Out Of Hell II"?

I've always had a reflexive answer to that question, but is my gut instinct right? That's what we're going to find out today.

"Bat Out Of Hell": The album that changed music, in its own way. Meat Loaf's debut album came out of nowhere, sounded like nothing else, and led to a host of people who would always be looked at with side-eye for liking such a ridiculous sound. Meat was a larger-than-life figure, and his music fit the bill. Jim Steinman found a unique blend of 50s rock and roll, Wagnerian opera, and Broadway cheese. We would learn down the line that it was Steinman who was the key to all of this working, as even the people who tried to copy his sound were unable to find quite the same sarcastic magic he made so effortless.

The album's highlights are undeniable. The title track was written to be the ultimate motorcycle song, and it absolutely is. Nine minutes of guitar solos (and guitars that sound like revving engines), pounding pianos, a narrative rollercoaster, and Meat's soaring voice, is a song that broke the rules of the time. It was a progressive theater song, which is something I'm not sure existed anywhere else. Meat's belting at the end of the song is the moment we know there's something truly special going on. "Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad" is the perfect love song for people who don't understand love. Steinman writes in pure sarcasm about icicles and Cracker Jack, drilling for oil on city streets, and riffing on Elvis to tell us love will not save the day.

Then there is the album's centerpiece, "Paradise By The Dashboard Light". It is an entire musical in its own right, telling us the story of how being 'proper' often puts us in positions we can't get out of. When sex becomes intertwines with marriage, the song blossoms into one of the greatest bits of writing I've ever encountered. Meat singing that he's a man of honor, but he wishes for the end of time so his promises can be voided is so hyperbolic you laugh, but also so desperately honest you cry. I don't know if Steinman intended to contemplate the idea of permanence, but the song asks us the question of whether maintaining one mindset forever is more virtuous than doing what is necessary to be happy.

"Bat Out Of Hell II": The sequel is bigger, in many ways. It is longer, even more sarcastic, and clearly the product of two men who were going to fall on their swords. "I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)" is one of the most overblown songs in history, and teased us with the mystery of what 'that' was. I have talked several times about the answer to that question, which fits into the same stunted view of love Steinman has always traded in. Steinman goes on to write lines telling us we can shove the future up our ass, and professing his love for The Three Stooges. No other album Steiman's songs appear on has ever revealed as much about him as this one.

A significant portion of the album is recycled, but when you're upcycling your best music, I don't consider that a problem. The spoken word piece is classic, and melodies from the verses of "It Just Won't Quit" and "Out Of The Frying Pan" are some of Steinman's best. Then there is "Rock & Roll Dreams Come Through", which sums up everything there is to know about the music. Steinman writes about the power of music, its ability to take us out of the moment and put up walls between us and our demons. Music can heal us, it can tap into pieces of ourselves we don't have access to when merely thinking. The drummer is indeed our pacemaker sometimes.

The Comparison: So which of these albums is better? That's actually a difficult question to answer, because we once again run into the battle between highlights and consistency. The original album has more all-time highlights, while the sequel has less dips. When I listen to the original, I will occasionally skip "Heaven Can Wait" and "All Revved Up With No Place To Go" as being inessential, and I will almost always turn it off before "For Crying Out Loud", because the multiple false endings can be a bit much for me. It's a record with four absolute classics, and three songs that fill things out.

The sequel has less of those classics. "I'd Do Anything For Love" and "Rock & Roll Dreams" are among them, but the rest of the album falls into that tier just below. Steinman also stretches things a bit too far with extended outros, that bagpipe bit being the worst of them. Add in the instrumental piece, and there's nearly ten minutes of the album that could be trimmed to make it a more impactful listening experience. Brevity was never Steinman's forte, and it wouldn't feel like him if the album didn't test out patience a bit.

The Verdict: I'm calling this one a split-decision, which I realize is a bit of a cop-out. If I'm being honest, the better album is the original. I can't deny the highlights are better than anything the sequel has to offer. Those four songs are as good as anything Steinman ever wrote, or Meat ever sang. I can listen to them over and over again without ever getting tired of them. The sequel, though, is the album I feel more emotionally connected to. It was a matter of timing, but when I trace my own musical identity, "Bat Out Of Hell II" is the center of my universe.

So yes, I am saying "Bat Out Of Hell" is the better record, but "Bat Out Of Hell II" is my favorite. I'm too weak to choose, but that's fitting, isn't it?

Quick Reviews: Blues Pills & Category 7

Blues Pills - Birthday

Here's a question we've seldom asked before; What if Adele fronted a rock band?

That's the impression Blues Pills' latest album gives me, as there are moments when Elin Larsson's voice is eerily similar to Adele, and their music has softened to the point where they do sound at times more like hard pop than soft rock. Gone are the days of their debut album's electric blues, which is fine. What isn't quite as fine is them not finding a lane that fits them quite as well. This particular brand of softer music doesn't play as well to Larsson's voice, which is at its best when belting out with all her power.

Those moments come on this record, but they are rarer, and they often come in the form of repetitive choruses that treat the titles as mantras. "Piggyback Ride", in particular, is as annoying as anything they've ever done. But then there's "Holding Me Back", which is absolutely their version of "Rollin' In The Deep", and is one of the best songs of the year. Blues Pills have always had the talent and the ability, but for whatever reason they are searching for an identity other than the one they were forged from.

That means that like the last two albums, this one is a good record with plenty of promise, but I don't think it holds up as a full experience. The highlights are fantastic, but twenty minutes of those does not an amazing album make. This continues to be one of those times when a band and I have very different ideas of where the path to the future is pointing.

Category 7 - Catagory 7

By this point, we all know how I feel about 'supergroups', especially when not all the members of the band have ever been 'super' to begin with. And if you're going to give your band a name implying you're more ferocious than a category five hurricane, you'de better back it up with the music. For a group of fifty-somethings, that's probably asking way too much, which is why this band wasn't the best idea to begin with.

Featuring John Bush on vocals, this group updates his era of Anthrax with more flamboyant guitar playing, courtesy of Mike Orlando. Since he first came to my attention with Adrenaline Mob, he has been a bit of a guitar gymnast, trying to impress us with his frantic playing and wild gesticulations. Being a showman might actually be the best choice for him, because none of his bands have yet made music I have found more than just passable.

That includes this band, which sounds like what it is; a group of veterans making their average music, because a new version of their average is more interesting to them than doing it again with their main bands. There's nothing wrong with this record, but I also can't tell you there's a single interesting thing about it. Bush sounds like himself, but without many interesting things to say, and without the curiosity of how much he transformed Anthrax. Orlando plays a ton of notes, but how many of them will be memorable might depend on how impressed you are with technicality. I'm not, so I find this record to be mostly bland and toothless. Or, as my colleague D.M put it; "dad metal".

Super, right?

Album Review: Powerwolf - "Wake Up The Wicked"

Power metal is a repetitive genre.  Has been for at least twenty years now.  There are a limited number of tropes a power metal band can adopt and still be called a power metal band, and you can probably tick off all of them in your head as you read this.  A small collection of bands have gotten extra mileage out of certain themes, like pirate metal or viking metal or Varangian metal, but in many cases those are just convenient window dressing for what, at its core, remains just a permutation of power metal.

And then there’s Powerwolf.  Listing their talents and abilities on paper, there’s nothing that seems like it should so easily separate them from the sluggish quagmire of power metal below them, but much like sports, bands don’t play on paper.  Powerwolf is simply better than all of their contemporaries; they’ve become a historical tentpole of the genre.

That doesn’t mean that they’re free from sins of their own – recent works have seen the bombastic Germans dip their toe in the pirate metal theme as well, albeit with some laudable success.  And not all their albums are classics – they have a 1:1 ratio in their history of great album to ‘meh’ album.  When Powerwolf hits right, though, there’s nobody who can hold a flame to them in their chosen splinter.

The band’s new album, “Wake Up the Wicked,” takes a couple listens to open up; it’s not as clearly attention-grabbing as its predecessor “Interludium” was, but with just a little patience, this record becomes the most versatile Powerwolf album to date.

Now, that doesn’t mean that the band is going to suddenly write dance bangers or bring down the house with cacophonous death metal pounding – everything on “Wake Up the Wicked” still sounds unmistakably like Powerwolf, but they’ve subtly introduced a few new elements that listeners haven’t heard from them before.

Skip down to “Heretic Hunters” for the first evidence – the beat and the riff belong on any number of Powerwolf records, but there’s a thin strand of synth in there, vaguely reminiscent of hurdy-gurdy music that’s new, and then Attila Dorn, forever the rafter-shaking voice of the genre, bites his lyrics off, rather than draw them out in his usual idiom.  Throw in a surprisingly ugly (in a good way,) breakdown (by Powerwolf standards,) and you’ve crafted a unique PW experience.

Starting with the title track, there’s a quartet of songs that marks “Wake Up the Wicked” as an accomplished Powerwolf album, fit to share the shelf with those that have come before (and better than some.)  The title track itself is just another classic in the long line of Powerwolf crowd pleasers – is it all that special weighed against the others?  Nah.  But it’s just as good, and will rile up crowds with its energy and singalong chorus just as well as any.

Then it gets interesting.  “Joan of Arc” is so incredibly reminiscent of the cadence of the previous album’s “Sainted by the Storm,” that I did a double-take.  But, as they say in my business, repeat your best stuff, you never know when someone is seeing it for the first time.

Then there’s a thrash song!  Powerwolf hasn’t written a song like “Thunderpriest” since “Dead Boys Don’t Cry” in the previous decade.  The song is all energy and power and relentlessness, for the entire duration of three-minutes and change.  This is followed by “We Don’t Wanna Be No Saints,” which starts with a children’s chorus ripped straight from “The Wall,” and then careens into a pop-metal beat where every moment is singable and accessible.

Powerwolf is separated from power metal by being so good at all the intangibles of songwriting – pace, timing, selection, cadence, sense of the moment.  Moreover, there’s no fat on the bones of “Wake Up the Wicked:” only one song goes past four minutes, and it does so by a paltry four seconds.  Powerwolf seems to be the only power metal band working who remembers that fathers of the genre Iron Maiden started out with punk rock roots.  This album is direct, to the point, and executed with experience and skill.