I did a fun little interview with NOFX Fat Mike ahead of the pop punk legends’ final world tour. We did not bang.
The Six Stacker - Bleak House
I live in Melbourne. Many Melburnians have lived here almost all their lives. None of us are used to the weather. Poking your head outside to bask in a sunny morning full of promise and dreams will be quickly dashed as you jump back inside. Grey clouds gather in an instant and you’ll be soaked in misery before you can even make the two or three steps to your car. A “Melburnian weather contingency starter pack” contains an overcoat, umbrella, sunscreen, and a Twitter account (to bitch about the unpredictability of the weather, which we all knew was a thing.) Fuck me, it’s spring already. I just saw Cattle Decapitation and the venue stunk of smug veganism and flop sweat. Cos it was sold out and humid at the Croxton. Anyway, here’s what I’ve been listening to:
Sacred Outcry - Towers of Gold
No Remorse Records (2023)
A GREEK power metal band? Surely not. Sacred Outcry formed in 1998 and in true Greeka no orris boss fashion, took 22 years to release their first record Damned for All Time. A swift two years later we have their follow-up Towers of Gold. This is a BIG DEAL in power metal since it’s their first with ex-Lost Horizon and ex-Crystal Eyes vocalist Daniel Heiman, which is a very good nutcrunchy thing. When their press packet gushes about a “meeting of golden age of the 90s and 00s power metal with the 80s American scene” they mean Rhapsody or Hammerfall mixed with, well, I’m not entirely sure. First (proper) track is all stallion gallop Hammerfall, every twelfth bar worth of vocals punctuated with an off-the-chart high note. Next track The Voyage does feel more American, thrashier in parts owing much to Jag Panzer and those huge gang choruses.
When I had this blaring through my car, I didn’t really pay much attention to it. Listening back, the neo-classical mist and cape fantasy Symphony of the Night (no Belmonts were harmed in the making) caught my ear more often than not. Semi-demi trilogy The Sweet Wine of Betrayal, The City of Stone and 15-minute guitar heroes’ journey Towers of Gold are the real meat of the album. Riding like the wind then kneeling in supplication as piano gently caresses Heiman’s face like the lace-gloved hand of a lost lover (or some shit) Towers of Gold comes damn close to matching the epic-ness of Helloween, Heiman doing his best approximation of Michael Kiske (who else) and just about pulling it off. It doesn’t make the previous 40 or so minutes dead weight, but the quality in the finale show tears strips of what came before. Worth the price of admission? I don’t know, do I fire up a CD for one song?
Faceless Burial - Speciation
Dark Descent Records (2020)
Spending $15 on what could have been rent or food after their set at Exhumed a couple of months ago I consider the risk of homelessness or starvation worth it. When fellow Hysteria traveller Tom MF Hersey wondered (out loud) why “Facey B isn’t as big as Parkway” I too pondered this, also. Opener Worship is everything good about technical death metal - not too showy and just the right amount of sugary guitar-lead goodness, fizzing our brains with excitement.
It’s total Chuck Schuldiner worship, though they haven’t cribbed his entire Sound of Perseverance (that was a pun), just the spirit of it. Overall, it has that ripper taste of late 90s “what if we did this”-ness to it. The same questions Atheist, Gorguts or Necrophagist would ask. Riff after riff they throw out like ninja stars, always spiking smack dab in the middle of someone’s eye, gushing fountains of blood and guts and piss and shit everywhere (all good things.) Barely 40 minutes long, it’s perfect as is. Every time you spin it, you discover something you missed the last time around.
My Dying Bride - The Light at the End of The World
Peaceville Records (1999)
After a near-disastrous flirtation with sounds ranging from blissed out Stone Roses and electronics ala Depeche Mode (though it didn’t hurt Paradise Lost any) on their previous album, the emperors of gloom roar back to re-conquer the lost territory of death-doom. Not that anyone was really posing a challenge. Not PL, not even Anathema at this point. Even so, using the Deep Space Nine font instead of chunky serifs seemed to upset a whole lot of people.
When the band chugs towards a wall of sorrowful violin and stops for Aaron Stainthorpe’s plaintive lamentations, you know shit is back and back in a big way. The Light at the End of the World hears the band crush up withered Nick Caves and Tom Waitses and snort them wholesale. She Is The Dark moves at lightning speed compared to most of their fare, and Stainthorpe’s bloodthirsty snarl rams home the anger that belies depression and grief. High drama and romanticism ensues in The Night He Died, sort of like Type O Negative dressed in blood-stained Edwardian garb; fan favourite The Fever Sea capturing a furious ocean that threatens to turn even the most steel-hearted of men insane. They do squarely focus in on death-doom’s primeval metallic nature, especially in hard-edged rocker (by their standards) Into the Lake of Ghosts, which they would expand on in later releases (especially on A Line of Deathless Kings and the albums after.) Their talent lies in creating a faultless, multifaceted funereal sound that retains classic metal elements: soaring leads and headbang-worthy passages. Like my old friend Jan used to say (often to bands, as they were playing) “the riffs are good.” Enough said.
Cattle Decapitation - Terrasite
Metal Blade Records (2023)
At Cattle Decap’s show with Fallujah (The Croxton, 17 September), our Malthusian panic merchants played mostly cuts from this and previous belter Death Atlas and everyone was pretty happy about it. That said, Terrasite is brimming with everything that makes death metal so attractive to us depraved weirdos in the first place: rib-crushing sub-bass, machine-gun double-kicks, riffs coming down like mechanised cavalry, and mastery of the brain-melter leadbreak. That otherworldly Fear Factory style robo-vox Travis Ryan does is also a big plus. It’s odd to place “songwriting” and “death metal” in the same sentence, since DA RIFF is the most important element of any extreme metal combo worth their (ethically sourced) salt. Scourge of the Offspring is chained to a circular arse-kicking machine, landing blows at such frenetic speed it might make Archspire pause to catch their breath. Cattle Decap are mighty talented practitioners of the arcane death metal art. To follow up a genre classic with something so close it can smell its decaying innards is nothing short of phenomenal. Recommended.
Unto Others - Mana
Eisenwald (2019)
Sometimes bands emerge with one core purpose: to be as kickass as possible and not give a fuck what anyone thinks. Unto Others (originally Idle Hands) is one such band. Yeah, we like Iron Maiden, yeah we like Sisters of Mercy, what are you going to do about it? Well, rock the fuck out to it, because it’s fucking awesome. You wanna Goth dance like its the 80s, go for your fucking life on industrial banger Nightfall, punctuated by slacker harmonies and lead breaks brighter than disco ball reflections off tuning pegs. If these guys released Jackie during the Cure’s heyday, they would have been on double-bills with them within a month of release. Gabriel Franco’s devil may care baritone works well whether it’s about hitting the open road (Cosmic Overdrive) or blurring himself into drug-fucked Accept-style oblivion (Give Me To The Night) or just kinda taking the Jim Steinman piss because it’s awesome (Dragon, Why Do You Cry?) A Single Solemn Rose is their ultimate fuck you to glam rock, Franco letting his voice soar above plaintive arpeggiated guitar. You know what anguish really feels like, Jon? Nikki? Axl? Fuck off.
Their Type O Negative meets Judas Priest schtick defies expectations every time you spin this one up - it exists almost despite itself and in saying that, it makes the entire disc nigh on perfect.
I forgot the sixth record. I may not have had one. Opps!
The Six Stacker - Battle Tested
WAR! What is it good for? Well, making certain people very, very rich. I recently read The World in Six Songs, where “music cognition” researcher Daniel Levitin tried to figure out why humanity expresses itself in song, and why we love it. Well, he has several neuroscientific theories. Music helps us transmit information, elicit friendships, and deal with the decidedly un-scientific phenomenon of love. Can he figure out why The Eagles aren’t cool yet Fleetwood Mac are? Afraid not. Anyway:
March In Arms - Pulse of the Daring
RFL Records (2020)
What’s the difference between hard rock and power metal? No really, someone tell me. It’s about three stray snips by the barber’s scissors differentiating a bit of back length from full-blown mullet. If you squint, you might be able to tell. South Dakota’s March In Arms has all the genre trappings of power metal, perhaps with a bit of thrash mixed in. Think a less morose Iced Earth, maybe. MIA’s diamond-in-the-rough lungsman (and guitarist) Ryan Knutson straddles the silver blade dividing a James Hetfield from a Jon Bon Jovi. Who’s to say they can’t be both? It will churn along in my mind, no answer forthcoming.
March In Arms craft catchy tunes about war. Not military history in the mould of Sabaton. Through our Swedish history buffs we learn what happened. In March In Arms’ case, we feel what happened. The ruthlessness, the futility, the human grinder that is modern mechanised conflict. Sabaton almost glorifies war with a patriotic fervour. March In Arms laments the soldiers who never returned home. The lyrics in certified headbanger 1914: Fathers and sons/your broken bodies/forever lie in these fields. Ouch.
Ten songs in all, each are constructed with precision and a deft hand - anything less than perfection would be a slap in the face to our fallen heroes. Three guitar attacks (sorry) are seldom used so efficiently. Twin leads and chugging riffs edge upon schadenfreude in An Act of Valor; that flag on your sleeve/Well, it don’t mean a thing/your national pride/or the anthems we sing/When your death is at hand/those who’ve been there they know/We’ll stay with you brother until it’s time to go. All ten tracks are killer, varied, and add just the right amount of strings to rend steel hearts into puddly mush. Highly recommended.
Frozen Dawn - The Decline of the Enlightened Gods
Transcending Obscurity (2023)
The Iberian peninsula is hot for black metal right now with bands like Gaerea and Wormed burrowing up through the muck and taking on the wider world. Spanish black metal outfit Frozen Dawn have switched to Indian super-label Transcending Obscurity for their fourth record and by golly it’s a big ‘un.
Black metal, at least the practitioners and adherents I’ve witnessed, is not a fun genre. It is very serious business. Frolicking around is for power metal fairies; headbanging until cranial injury is for thrashers. Black metal? This is art. This is real. This is not stupid idiots in corpse paint traipsing around forests breathing fire. It’s steeped in mysticism and occult incantations. So I’m told.
It’s so difficult to wed black metal to the wider metal genre, despite its stylistic similarities. When I used to talk to European metal bands, they seemed like fun guys living the dream of playing music in return for beer. Black metal bands are a different breed altogether. We know that pro wrestlers are practising kayfabe whenever fans are present - black metal? I have no idea if it’s an act or not.
Frozen Dawn seem to want to put a bit of fun - not levity - but fun into black metal. They do it through the influence of “n’ roll” type bands like Dissection or Necrophobic (and they cover Blinded By Light, Enlightened By Darkness as the last track.) Though opening with howling winds and snow, Mystic Fires of Dark Allegiance is bursting with pointed riffery and whinnying guitar heroism. It’s not all blastbeats and Wagner either; Spellbound is pure King Diamond worship, while Frozen Kings pulsing riffs and arpeggios might see the local Turbojugend tapping their toes.
Though subversion of expectations has a bad wrap since Rian Johnson fucked up Star Wars, that’s pretty much the order of the day with Frozen Dawn. They zig when black metal purists expect a zag, all while keeping things rooted in the black metal tradition. It’s not accessible in the same way Dimmu Borgir is, but god damn this album will make a lot of metalheads very, very happy.
Black Therapy - Echoes of dying memories
Black Lion Records (2019)
Someone much smarter than I, I think it was Sophie Benjamin, said music reviewing in the post-Napster era devolved into “you will like this if you already like music like this” and in the Spotify now, music reviewing is all but irrelevant. Genres aren’t audience defined but producer defined, so they can fit into Spotify recommendation silos. Italy’s Black Therapy are essentially sadboi Scandinavian melodeath in the vein of Ghost Brigade or Insomnium with a bit of that ye olde October Tide thrown in. This is despite reviewers being fed (and swallowing) that this is somehow melodic doom-death, which is a big fucking stretch.
Opener Phoenix Rising certainly radiates Omnium Gatherum vibes; tight arpeggiated riffs laying down bleeding into minor key legato gutters. I mean, I love this type of shit. I would eat it every day for breakfast and never complain. Echoes of Dying Memories (the song) could have been a dusted off Discouraged Ones B-side and I really would never have known (save the death vocals, something Katatonia vocalist Jonas Renkse is no longer able or willing to do.) It’s melodic death metal in a slower tempo - I mean, name one break-yer-neck Dark Tranquillity song (that isn’t Lost to Apathy). Most of their stuff is what modern audiences would call mid-paced. Then again, what the fuck would I know. Uhh, if you like the bands I mentioned you’ll like this too. SEE WHAT I DID THERE???
Kataklysm - Of Ghosts and Gods
Nuclear Blast (2015)
Quebec’s Kataklysm have become a mini institution in death metal, taking on the “Northern Hyperblast” moniker well before the Archspire dudes begged their dads to spend a cool hundo on their first acoustic. Ever since around In The Arms of Devastation, the technique took primacy over the deathiness of their metal. Of Ghosts and Gods is their twelfth album and the only one to win the Canadian Juno music award in the Heavy Metal category for 2016. Cool.
Kataklysm haven’t reinvented themselves, though almost by osmosis, they’ve absorbed bits of contemporary deathcore ala Thy Art Is Murder; The Black Sheep’s roar and flames die down into what could almost kinda sorta be a (gasp!) breakdown - though monstrous middle-8s aren’t exactly unheard of in death metal. Right??? The Hyperblast cometh in whiplashers Marching Through Graveyards and Vindication, and you’ll want to throw fists down at the sound of stomper Carrying Crosses. If it doesn’t make total sense through your speakers, it’ll click when you’re in the mosh. Because this is where Kataklysm ought to be experienced.
Everdawn - Cleopatra
Sensory (2021)
Rushing toward us in a storm of riffs and majestic synth orchestra, I half expected Everdawn to launch into the first lines of Wishmaster by Nightwish. A re-formation of Midnight Eternal featuring Mike LePond (bass for Symphony X and so many bands I dare not count) these New Joisey natives are a symphonic power metal outfit centring around the gilded soprano pipes of Canadian Alina Gavrilenko. If I was a little more drunk than usual, I’d wonder if this was a Tarja-era Nightwish cut I’d somehow overlooked. The quality is certainly there. Production is wall-of-soundy enough like an Epica or a Kamelot with the galloping riffs and noodly guitar to match. This is no more evident on the title track, infused with Middle Eastern flavour and an air of mystery, Alina taking the spotlight and carrying the song into mythic Alexandria. A definite highlight is the rockier cut Infinite Divine featuring Thomas Vikstrom of Therion, a natural pairing warranting a warn groove or two. For fans of female operatic vocals, you can’t not like this.
Decipher - Arcane Paths to Resurrection
Transcending Obscurity (2023)
I am not sure why but this raw black metal band from Greece reminds me of latter-day Therion, if they tended toward aggression instead of melody. There is a tug of war going on between balls out destructive riffery and introspection through leadwork and easing off the gas. They do lend a sense of moving through some kind of purgatory, each movement of Lost in Obscurity cycling through pain, relief, and suffering once more, aided by choirs on the absolute periphery of our perception - if you aren’t paying complete attention, it will just smear into the fuzz and fury of guitars. There is a case for placing them closer to Enslaved rather than Emperor, though the comparisons don’t hit the mark in terms of ingenuity and innovation, they’re a good enough baseline for figuring out where these Greek grimlords are coming from - and where they may very well go.