Model/Actriz - "Thank You By Dido"

Although most known for their fierce, aggro-industrial rock songs, Model/Actriz's tender moments are always standouts. From their surprise EP Swan Songs, which were born out of experiments from the Pirouette sessions, "Thank You By Dido," is an emotional, heart-on-sleeve ballad that is strikingly beautiful. 

Chalk - "Béal Feirste"

Belfast duo Chalk's Crystalpunk combines the best of industrial, darkwave, and dance punk into a juggernaut of a debut record. "Béal Feirste," Irish for Belfast, shows them dipping their toes into breakbeat, with subtle nods to Underworld.

Nine Inch Nails - "As Alive As You Need Me To Be"

From the soundtrack to TRON: Aries, Nine Inch Nails shares the throbbing dance cut "As Alive As You Need Me To Be."

 

Model/Actriz - "Audience"

Model/Actriz' sophomore record Pirouette is out today, and it's a brilliant continuation of their intense sound. "Audience" throbs and pulses with barely contained menace.

Factory Floor - "Between You"

Recorded with Stephen Morris of New Order, "Between You," the newest single from London's Factory Floor, is a slamming, euphoric banger. Makes me want to hit the dancefloor. 

Peter Murphy ft. Trent Reznor - "Swoon"

Electro-industrial collaboration between Peter Murphy and Trent Reznor. 

Chalk - "Afraid"

The Belfast post-punk/electronic trio Chalk will obliterate your speakers with the incendiary track "Afraid," which rages like an outtake from NIN's Broken EP. 

Kassie Krut - "Reckless"

Emerging from the ashes of late-great Philly experimental rockers Palm comes the new trio Kassie Krut. Kasra Kurt and Eve Alpert team up with producer Matt Anderegg for some industrial hyperpop shenanigans on their first single "Reckless." It's super catchy and subtlety menacing.

Album Review: Gesaffelstein - Aleph

Gesaffelstein
Aleph
Rating: Grrrr

Probably best known at the moment for producing "Black Skinhead" and "Send It Up" on Kanye West's industrial leaning record Yeezus, French techno producer Mike Levy, who produces under the name Gesaffelstein, releases his debut record Aleph, a dense, foreboding set of dark techno. On listening to these tracks, one immediately sees what drew West to use the producer, as every square inch of each track is polished to a superhuman sheen, dripping with menace and darkness, even on the handful of more atmospheric numbers.

Drawing from traditional techno to more intense genres like industrial and EBM, with even a slight touchdown in hip-hop, Levy has constructed an immaculately produced set of tracks. At over an hour, it is not an easy listen, with several of the tracks pummeling you with over-the-top aggression. The pacing, however, breaks up these intense assaults with carefully placed moments that pull you back into this sleek world. The majority of listeners will be drawn to the more dance-floor ready techno tracks. Best of the lot include the funky techno of banger "Trans;"



first single and massively overwhelming EBM leaning track "Pursuit;"



slippery techno of "Duel;"



and the throbbingly dense "Hate Or Glory."



There are also moments where Levy changes things up to marvelous effect, like on the hip-hop twisted track "Hellifornia," whose bone rattling bass will either set you off running or banging your head furiously;



or the sublime "Values," with its lonely core of synths, and dramatic arc and sweep.



And Levy keeps it all in balance with a variety of quieter, though no less sinister, instrumentals that keeps everything in line. From the longing, wandering mists of "Nameless," the Aphex Twin playfulness of "Wall of Memories," to the almost pastoral elegance of title track "Aleph,"



Levy keeps a firm hand and direction on where Aleph is heading at all times.

Even when you think you know where Aleph is heading, Levy is always one or two steps ahead of you at all times, subverting all your expectations. It is a masterful stroke of production and pacing that is frequently stunning. One of the best techno records of the year, Aleph is both heaven for those wanting dancefloor bangers and for those wanting more serious, headphone leaning sounds.

Rating Scale:

Chilfos: masterpiece; coolest thing I've heard in ages.

Woof Daddy: excellent; just a hair away from being a masterpiece.

Grrrr: very good; will definitely be considered for my top releases of the year.

Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It: good; definitely invites further listens and piques one's interest for more material.

Meh: not horrible, but certainly not great; could have either been polished, trimmed, or re-thought.

Jeez Lady: what the hell happened? Just plain bad. They should hang their heads in shame and be forced to listen to Lady Gaga ad nauseam as penance.

Tragicistani: so bad, armed villagers with pitchforks and torches should run the artist out of the country for inflicting this abomination on the human race.

Classic: Cabaret Voltaire - "Sensoria"

In honor of the reissue of their classic records from the 80s, here is one of my favorite tracks from the electronic/industrial music pioneers.

Album Review - Marilyn Manson: Born Villain

Marilyn Manson
Born Villain
Rating: Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It

Let's face it, Marilyn Manson's prime is long since past. Gone are the massive sales, tours, and controversy that came with his classic album Antichrist Superstar. That album was such a cultural watershed, hitting at the right time and Manson, being the excellent marketer he is, rode that wave for all it was worth. Perhaps sensing that his sound might devolve into self-parody, he switched gears on follow up Mechanical Animals, adopting a more electro/glam/David Bowie inspired persona, that drove off a good majority of his fans. Since then, Manson appears to be chasing that long gone Antichrist Superstar ghost, to middling effect. While the two records following Antichrist Superstar have their moments, his output in the 2000s, while not forever tarnishing his reputation, definitely saw the gears grinding. After a three year absence, Manson returns with Born Villain, which, while not necessarily breaking new ground, is a step in the right direction and his most solid album in years. Apparently, Manson retreated to a more spartan studio setup for this record in order to get back to the basics. It immediately shows as the tracks seem very streamlined, keeping the individual elements to a minimum and not filling the spaces with cluttered arrangements. From an overview of the record, you can tell Manson went back to listen to classic records from Killing Joke, Sisters of Mercy, and a bevy of old goth/industrial masters. There is a reignited purpose here that has been lacking in his last couple of records. While there are still issues that pop up occasionally, it's been a long time since I can actually say that a Manson album is recommended.

First single "No Reflection" is the perfect example of where Manson gets it right. A driving beat pushes the track forward, featuring only a fuzzy bass line, grinding guitars, and a furious growl from Manson.



"Murderers Are Getting Prettier Every Day" is practically old school industrial Manson featuring machine-gun pounding beats and a tidal wave of brutal guitar licks.



While there is a renewed vigor here, it doesn't mean the entire album is one note. There is a lot of stylistic diversity as well. Title track "Born Villain" utilizes low key drum programming and evocative guitar work. Manson actually allows the song to breathe and evolve slowly, and shows that sometimes quiet can be just as creepy.



"Children of Cain" works along a throbbing electronic base, clunky drum programming creating a martial beat, and Manson chanting the dark lyrics. The track is subtly (and subtle is not a word usually associated with Manson) colored by stark keyboards.



In case you were wondering whether this album was another genre hopping work from Manson, never fear, there are plenty of typical Manson tracks on Born Villain that will satisfy the faithful. The slow grind of "Slo-Mo-Tion" has Manson singing about a television wasteland where they "Pump in the laughter/of dead-audience applause/and teenage rape candidates."



"Overneath the Path of Misery" begins with Manson creepily reciting the "sound and fury" Shakespeare speech from Macbeth before launching into the guitar heavy tract about victimization and the media.



And "Hey, Cruel World..." gets things started off on the record with a typical Manson take on religion and the world, screaming out "hey, cruel world…/you don’t have what it takes/we don’t need your faith/we’ve got fucking fate."



The only issues I have with Born Villain are that the record is far too long. At 14 tracks and over an hour, about halfway through the album it begins to lose a little steam. Also, with Manson being more minimalist, as it were, there are several tracks (most notably "The Gardener," "Disengaged," and "Pistol Whipped") that border on almost being bland. And again, we are subjected to another Manson cover which is generally a love it or hate it proposition with him. Why he chose to cover Carly Simon's "You're So Vain" with Johnny Depp on guitar is a mystery. He adds nothing of consequence to the track, and it ends the album on a sour note.



Born Villain is definitely a welcome return to form for Marilyn Manson and hopefully is a harbinger of even better music to come. By stripping away the excess and focusing on the essence of what makes his music so immediate, Manson has emerged from a period of creative torpor, becoming relevant once again.

Rating Scale:

Chilfos: masterpiece; coolest thing I've heard in ages.

Woof Daddy: excellent; just a hair away from being a masterpiece.

Grrrr: very good; will definitely be considered for my top releases of the year.

Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It: good; definitely invites further listens and piques one's interest for more material.

Meh: not horrible, but certainly not great; could have either been polished, trimmed, or re-thought.

Jeez Lady: what the hell happened? Just plain bad. They should hang their heads in shame and be forced to listen to Lady Gaga ad nauseam as penance.

Tragicistani: so bad, armed villagers with pitchforks and torches should run the artist out of the country for inflicting this abomination on the human race.

School of Seven Bells: Ghostory - Album Review

School of Seven Bells
Ghostory
Rating: Grrrr

For me, sometimes music is all about the mood and setting. Countless times I have listened to a record I think I will enjoy when I am in a bad mood, or in a stressful situation at work, or when it is cold, and the music feels off to me, and nothing I do can make me like it. Other times, I can be in a great mood, sun is shining, and all is right with the world, and a record I don't feel I will like resonates with me in some way, shape, or form. Strangely, when I reverse the situations, I can find I love the record I disliked at first, and vice versa. Often, a record just takes awhile to click with me. That is why I have a reviewing policy that I have to listen to something at least 10 times, and at least three of those times in different situations; be it the office, the car, or at home. That way, I get some different perspectives on the music and can know what my true opinion is. I will admit that School of Seven Bells' first two albums never really stuck with me. They are a band that on paper I should like: ethereal vocals over dream pop/shoegaze guitars and beds of plush synths, however, Alpinisms and Disconnect From Desire left me a bit cold.

The band, formed by Benjamin Curtis of Secret Machines, together with identical twins Alejandra and Claudia Deheza, formerly of On!Air!Library!, have now been reduced to the duo of Curtis and Alejandra, and I am not sure if that is the catalyst that has changed their sound for me, but Ghostory has been quite a revelation. The album takes all the disparate elements that on paper made this band something I wanted to hear, and merges them into something whole and special. After listening to the tight rhythms and song structures I realized this was the album that M83 should have made, rather than the overly ambitious, and quite frankly bloated epic, Hurry Up, We're Dreaming.

Gone are the meandering song structures and the almost new age haze of past releases, and in place are songs with purpose and drive, where nothing really feels out of place, hurried, or incomplete. Guitars shimmer and ring brightly, with shoegazer elements applied only when necessary, beats are crisp and clear and move the songs forward instead of treading water, and Alejandra's vocals, while still the weakest element of the band, this time are slightly more emotive. Too often, at least for me, her voice can cross the line into monotone, with me wishing she would add a little more variety to her delivery. With that said, she gets stronger with each release, and it is evident on Ghostory that it is an area they are working on.

Off the bat, you can hear the immediate changes. "The Night" starts off with interesting guitar and bass textures before lifting off with a bouncy beat, gossamer vocal, and a rushing chorus.



Second track "Love Play" drifts a little back to their old sound of hazy soundscapes, but in the past where the music could get a little overpoweringly ethereal, there is a grittiness at play here that elevates the track. The bass synth is harsh and buzzing, and the guitars swell underneath.



The band reminds me a lot of a poppier Curve at times, a band whose intense shoegaze guitars and beats are sorely missed these days. "Lafaye" features a dense bed of drum programming under a shimmering wave of swirling guitars, in which Alejandra's vocals hide.



Songs like "Scavenger" continue this trend, offering a meatier rhythm section and tighter melodic focus.



"White Wind" is practically industrial with its booming drums and buzzing electronics, showing the band is pushing its sound into more muscular territory, which segues into the closing epic 8:30 minute track "When You Sing," which emerges from a murk of ambient noodling into a drum heavy, guitar driven attack, buoyed by waves of synths and Alejandra's gorgeous whispers.

Ghostory is not all beat driven. There is plenty of room for softer, more atmospheric tracks. "Reappear" features one of Alejandra's most beautiful vocal turns, echoing and multi tracked, almost like Elizabeth Frazer, lightly flowing over heavenly synth washes. "Show Me Love" begins almost beatless, allowing the guitars and keyboards to buzz around the vocals, until the clattering drum programming and more insistent, darker keyboards arrive to carry the song along.

School of Seven Bells take a huge leap forward with Ghostory, one that I was not expecting at all. I wanted to love the band on their previous albums, but either the mood was not right or it just didn't click with me. Although this album took awhile to get into my head, once it did, I found myself drawn back towards it time and again. For those in love with a shoegazer sound, but with more melody and purpose, this album is a phenomenal find, and one I highly recommend.

Rating Scale:

Chilfos: masterpiece; coolest thing I've heard in ages.

Woof Daddy: excellent; just a hair away from being a masterpiece.

Grrrr: very good; will definitely be considered for my top releases of the year.

Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It: good; definitely invites further listens and peaks one's interest for more material.

Meh: not horrible, but certainly not great; could have either been polished, trimmed, or re-thought.

Jeez Lady: what the hell happened? Just plain bad. They should hang their heads in shame and be forced to listen to Lady Gaga ad nauseam as penance.

Tragicistani: so bad, armed villagers with pitchforks and torches should run the artist out of the country for inflicting this abomination on the human race.

Sleigh Bells: Reign of Terror - Album Review

Sleigh Bells
Reign of Terror
Rating: Grrrr

Sleigh Bells' first album Treats basically emerged fully formed, a delectable slab of furious guitars and hip-hops beats that pummeled you endlessly and kept you revved up over its run time. The album was such an image and sound defining moment for the band, it begged the question, what do they do for a follow up? You can do more of the same and try to continue the run established prior, or you can shake the foundation and go in a completely new direction. Thankfully, Sleigh Bells do neither outright, but seem to find the perfect midpoint of keeping their signature sound yet pushing it, refining it, making it clear they are not a one trick pony. This approach, of course, is not without its problems, the first being that the album is not as immediate as Treats. Reign of Terror takes several listens before you really figure out what the band is doing, and the back half of the record is a moody suite of tracks that focus more on texture than overt power. But once you get the flow of the record, it is a captivating listen, showing the band knows exactly what they are doing.

There are plenty of old school Sleigh Bells tracks on Reign of Terror, which are the touchstones to the record, that will bring in the faithful and not disappoint those wanting the the raucous band of Treats. First single, "Comeback Kid," is a fury of squalling guitars and slamming beats. Alexis Krauss coos and whispers over all the noise. What is most interesting about the track, and the album, is that the beats are far more industrial sounding than hip-hop based, Derek Miller's guitars are also cleaner and mixed to perfection, and Krauss' vocals, often buried in the mix on Treats, are more front and center.



"Demons" is perhaps Sleigh Bells' most hard hitting track. Pounding, Land of Rape and Honey-era Ministry drum machines are the foundation for a phalanx of air-raid siren guitars.



Several other tracks seek to emulate the trademarked Sleigh Bells' sound: "Born to Lose" and "Crush" both contain chanting/cheerleader vocals and call and response lyrics. The production here is so much cleaner than on Treats that, instead of sounding like copycats, actually sounds fresh and new. Where the band really excels this time is allowing songs to be softer and more melodic. Krauss puts out one of her most tender vocals on "End of the Line," with the guitars being less of a force, and floating over the beats and carrying the vocal instead of throwing it at you like a Molotov cocktail.



"Leader of the Pack," further takes a 60s girl group approach, contrasting Krauss' soft vocal against Miller's wall of guitars.



The final trio of tracks that end the album are truly what impresses, from the gorgeous swoon of guitars over the lonely vocals of Krauss on "You Lost Me,"



to the pointillistic guitar techniques on "Never Say Die," which is just mesmerizing by midpoint of the track, and the haunting closing wail of "D.O.A.," focus on texture and atmosphere, without forsaking power. When Sleigh Bells reign their killer sound in just a little, it amazes how much more dangerous they sound. All the outward fury is tightly coiled, never knowing whether they will unleash it or not.

I will admit I was very nervous about listening to the new album. When a band releases a debut album like Treats which is so sound defining and almost perfect, there sometimes is nowhere for the band to go. Sleigh Bells, after touring behind Treats for so long, were able to hone their sound and approach, and have gracefully sidestepped the dreaded sophomore slump. While it is not the stunning surprise that Treats was, Reign of Terror is an excellent second effort, and shows the promise of much more to come.

Rating Scale:

Chilfos: masterpiece; coolest thing I've heard in ages.

Woof Daddy: excellent; just a hair away from being a masterpiece.

Grrrr: very good; will definitely be considered for my top releases of the year.

Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It: good; definitely invites further listens and peaks one's interest for more material.

Meh: not horrible, but certainly not great; could have either been polished, trimmed, or re-thought.

Jeez Lady: what the hell happened? Just plain bad. They should hang their heads in shame and be forced to listen to Lady Gaga ad nauseam as penance.

Tragicistani: so bad, armed villagers with pitchforks and torches should run the artist out of the country for inflicting this abomination on the human race.

The Twilight Sad: No One Can Ever Know - Album Review

The Twilight Sad
No One Can Ever Know
Rating: Woof Daddy

When The Twilight Sad's first album Fourteen Autumns & Fifteen Winters came out in 2007 it was a bold updating of the shoegaze sound, taking walls and walls of squalling guitars and placing James Graham's gorgeous Scottish burr full on in front of the mix, adding a distinct humanizing aspect to the music. Their debut was so fully formed there was really nowhere for the band to really take their sound. Second album Forget The Night Ahead, while one of my top albums of 2009, still felt like the band was in a holding pattern, unsure what the next steps should be. In the interim, the band lost founding member Craig Orzel and released a few singles and an EP which continued the band's approach. By this point, I was getting a little tired of the same old same old from the band, but was willing to give them another shot. When the band headed back to the studio to follow up Forget The Night Ahead, I was intrigued by interviews with the band who mentioned that their influences for the album were Cabaret Voltaire, Public Image Ltd, Can, Liars, Autechre, and Magazine. Graham mentioned that guitarist Andy MacFarlane was utilizing more keyboards this go around, making their sound more punishing and cold. Peaking my interest was the band's hiring of Andrew Weatherall for production duties; Weatherall best known for his work on Primal Scream's classic album Screamadelica, and on Fuck Button's last album Tarot Sport.

No One Can Ever Know is a complete triumph of a band updating their sound and taking it in a fresh direction, but it still sounding like the band itself. There will be no mistaking that this is not a Twilight Sad album, Graham's voice is still front and center, bearing the emotional weight. Of course the most significant change is that keyboards and drum machines take the lead, with only a few tracks even containing guitars, and when they are in the mix, they are used in a more textural way. The album is brutal in its icy precision; beats are martial and unforgiving, keyboards are bleak and cold, with Graham's voice the only source of humaneness. Even so, the lyrics are still as haunting and disturbing as ever. Where on Fourteen Autumns & Fifteen Winters the lyrics described the effects of physical and emotional abuse while growing up, No One Can Ever Know is all about the damage later on in life. In fact, the album is almost nihilistic in its themes, the protagonists all damaged and bent sinister in their lives, with the music making it seem like all is hopeless. Fans of Pornography-era Cure will love the new direction of the band.

First song released from the album, "Kill It In The Morning," truly heralded the second coming of the band. Over a droning bed of guitar effects and dirty fuzz bass, the skittering, industrial clank of percussion stomps the production forward. Graham's voice staying low in the mix at first, keeping his rage in check, slowly rising in temper and fury. By the end of the track, when the waves of synths take over, Graham's full anger taking over, practically screaming "It's a shame she wanted more/only place that we couldn't go/what more do you need to know/it's staying here well down below."



There is an amazing, new found muscularness to their tracks, as if the reliance on guitars before were holding them back in some way. The rush of "Dead City" is aggressive and disturbing, the guitars grating and synths washing over the mix.



"Don't Move" exists in a swagger of industrial synths and chugging beats, the protagonist of the song associating love and violence, singing "I want you more than you will ever know/we were paired off in the violence."



The haunting rush of New Order-esque synths motivates the haunting single "Another Bed."



In case I have made this album sound dour and oppressive, there are plenty of songs with moments of great beauty, showing a little light through the gloom. "Sick" could easily stand among one of Radiohead's best singles from the Hail to the Thief era, antiquated drum machines underscore the gorgeous guitar work from MacFarlane and one of Graham's most stunningly emotive vocal performances. It is truly the standout song on the album.



"Nil" takes fractured synth drones and pulsating drums, slowly building up, the drums sounding like a thunderstorm as sheets of synths fall down on Graham's restrained vocal. "Not Sleeping" is also a slow-burning track with delicate interplay between muted guitars and soaring synths, which again erupts with cavernous drums and squalls of guitars, Graham's voice growing in strength and purpose.

No One Can Ever Know is a constantly surprising and intriguing work, even if sometimes its all-purpose bleakness can overshadow the album. Graham's voice, so warm and inviting, always acts as a splash of color and light, making sure things never tip over into self-parody. Few bands can overhaul their sound while still sounding like themselves, and The Twilight Sad seem to understand that you don't have to give up your purpose in order to explore and experiment. No One Can Ever Know has energized the band, and is easily going to make it into my top records of the year.

Rating Scale:

Chilfos: masterpiece; coolest thing I've heard in ages.

Woof Daddy: excellent; just a hair away from being a masterpiece.

Grrrr: very good; will definitely be considered for my top releases of the year.

Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It: good; definitely invites further listens and peaks one's interest for more material.

Meh: not horrible, but certainly not great; could have either been polished, trimmed, or re-thought.

Jeez Lady: what the hell happened? Just plain bad. They should hang their heads in shame and be forced to listen to Lady Gaga ad nauseam as penance.

Tragicistani: so bad, armed villagers with pitchforks and torches should run the artist out of the country for inflicting this abomination on the human race.

Gary Numan: Dead Son Rising - Album Review

Gary Numan
Dead Son Rising
Rating: Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It

When do you stop assessing the work of a legend? Can you always hold them up to a higher standard, or does there come a time where you just have to appreciate them for what they are and leave it at that? I commented a while back that most bands/artists have, at most, 2-3 really good albums in them (of course there are many exceptions to that rule), and then they either coast along the memory of those classics, fade into obscurity, or attempt last ditch efforts to regain popularity. Gary Numan was one of the biggest innovators in the late 1970's and early 80s bringing synthpop to the masses. While a huge pop star in the UK and Europe, Numan is mainly thought of as a one hit wonder for his ubiquitous smash single "Cars." It is a pity really, because his music and icy, alien stage persona influenced many bands throughout the 80s and 90s, and even now. Without him, there would not have been the rise of alternative industrial pop music from the likes of NIN and Marilyn Manson. So giving credit where credit is due, I think we can give Numan a break and allow him to somewhat coast on his laurels for awhile, and even steal a little from the NIN playbook. The songs that make up Numan's latest release Dead Son Rising apparently were culled from many phases of his career, and updated for a more modern sheen. Back during the NIN Wave Goodbye tour, Numan made several guest appearances and reportedly worked with Reznor on some tracks. While the album is produced by Ade Fenton, most of the tracks have a heavy feeling of The Fragile about them. As such, the album breaks no new ground, but any new material from Numan is good thing, and there are plenty of good tracks on here.

Dead Son Rising starts off strongly with the brooding instrumental opener "Resurrection" which erupts into the electro-industrial stomper "Big Noise Transmission," which feeds off grinding NIN-esque guitars.



The remaining tracks flow back and forth between moodier fare, using a lot of atmosphere, and keeping most abrasion to a minimum. From the slow build of "Dead Sun Rising,"



to the gorgeously lonely piano ballad "Not The Love We Dream Of" which almost sounds like a b-side from The Fragile,



to the quiet beginnings of "When the Sky Bleeds, He Will Come," which hides its furiously dense midsection lying in wait.



The ghost of Trent Reznor haunts almost every track. It almost becomes like a parody at times, however, Numan is such a skilled artist that regardless of any intentional or unintentional bow to Reznor, it still comes out sounding like a Numan record. Tracks like "For The Rest of My Life" which borrows a typically Reznorian distorted beat, and plucked acoustic guitars, still doesn't swallow Numan whole, allowing his dispassionate delivery to shine through.



The record is very solid throughout the beginning and the middle, however, at the end, it gets mired in uninspired instrumentals like "Into Battle," or needlessly offers up bland, ambient reprises of previous tracks. The momentum that was steadily building falls apart at the seams. But, at this stage in his career, Numan can pretty much get away with whatever he wants to do. And there is enough strength in this material showing that Numan will likely be around for a long time.

Rating Scale:

Chilfos: masterpiece; coolest thing I've heard in ages.

Woof Daddy: excellent; just a hair away from being a masterpiece.

Grrrr: very good; will definitely be considered for my top releases of the year.

Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It: good; definitely invites further listens and peaks one's interest for more material.

Meh: not horrible, but certainly not great; could have either been polished, trimmed, or re-thought.

Jeez Lady: what the hell happened? Just plain bad. They should hang their heads in shame and be forced to listen to Lady Gaga ad nauseam as penance.

Tragicistani: so bad, armed villagers with pitchforks and torches should run the artist out of the country for inflicting this abomination on the human race.

Mondkopf: Rising Doom - Album Review

Mondkopf
Rising Doom
Rating: Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It

Mondkopf, AKA Paul Régimbeau, the Paris-based electronic artist, released his first album in 2009, the well received Galaxy of Nowhere, and has become a go-to remixer for artists like Caribou, Black Devil Disco Club and Golden Filter. His second album Rising Doom is an eclectic, yet focused release drawing from everything from house, electro, industrial, and techno. It is a lush, dark affair sounding akin to a dance version of Massive Attack's Mezzanine, finding lots of dark corners to hide out in. The beats are heavy and dark, with raw synths buzzing and clanging in the background. Rising Doom works best when the tracks focus on the beats and not so well when detouring into more ambient territory. The flow of the album gets compromised by too many ill placed beatless instrumentals that threaten to undermine the album as a whole. But the tracks that work, and there are many, are so well produced and sculpted that, in the end, the album still is effective.

Rising Doom is one of the first electronic releases in awhile that doesn't seem indebted to the dubstep genre, focusing more on machine-like aspects cultivated from artists like Tri Repeate ++ era Autechre, Clark, and some of the beat music from Flying Lotus. Although the music is pretty heavy at times, there are lots of touches throughout the record that bring it back down to a human level. "Day of Anger" contains some lovely Satie-esque piano melodies that bookend the throbbing menace of the mid-section, with thumping percussion and buzz saw synth lines.



The twinkling keyboard patches of "Sweet Memories" lighten the load of the churning, lurching percussion and low end bass.



And the crackling, glitchy synths, and dirty programming of "The Song of Shadows" could become unbearably tense, but the mid-point of the song is broken up with a gorgeous passage of cor anglais and organ.



Some of the less beat-driven tracks, in an effort to create more variety for the album, seem to fall flat within the context of the other songs. "Moon's Throat" falters under a heavy handled throat gurgling vocal sample and LSD trip synth lines. And the closing pair of "My Heart Is Yours" and "Fossil Lights" attempt to end the album on a note of M83-like grandiosity, but the two tracks feel half-hearted at best, with the closing 8 minutes of "Fossil Lights" being all build with no real release.



The album would have worked better if he had continued making tracks in the vein of ""Beyond The Golden Valleys" whose cavernous drum beats and squeltchy synth lines are consistently engaging,



the bee-swarm industrial haze of the throbbing "Where The Gods Fall,"



or the pulsing Portishead meets Justice track "Deadwood."



Rising Son is an excellent sophomore release for the up and coming French producer. Unfortunately, he makes the mistake a lot of artists do on a second album which is making changes to their sound that go too far outside their comfort zone and end up straining their signature sound. I applaud the fact he wanted to push his sound, but wish he had left it to a couple of tracks, rather than half of them.

Rating Scale:

Chilfos: masterpiece; coolest thing I've heard in ages.

Woof Daddy: excellent; just a hair away from being a masterpiece.

Grrrr: very good; will definitely be considered for my top releases of the year.

Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It: good; definitely invites further listens and peaks one's interest for more material.

Meh: not horrible, but certainly not great; could have either been polished, trimmed, or re-thought.

Jeez Lady: what the hell happened? Just plain bad. They should hang their heads in shame and be forced to listen to Lady Gaga ad nauseam as penance.

Tragicistani: so bad, armed villagers with pitchforks and torches should run the artist out of the country for inflicting this abomination on the human race.

Skinny Puppy: hanDover - Album Review

Skinny Puppy
hanDover
Rating: Grrrr

While the heyday of industrial music has long come and gone, there are still a few bands that have kept the fires burning and have evolved and changed with the times. During the 80s and early 90s, Skinny Puppy was a force to be reckoned with; the long stretch of albums from Mind the Perpetual Intercourse, Cleanse Fold and Manipulate, Vivisect VI, and Too Dark Park, were an ever increasing batch of amazing sonic exploration. The core group of cEvin Key, Nivek Ogre, and Dwayne Goettel used each album to take their sound to the next level. It wasn't until the fractured recording sessions for The Process for this key collaboration to fall apart, ending with the drug overdose of Goettel, their chief sonic architect. After a short split, Key and Ogre buried the hatchet and began recording again, the two albums they've released, The Great Wrong of the Right, and Mythmaker, have been decent, yet somewhat uninspired, coasting on their regular bag of tricks and not really making any new statements. With their third, post Goettel release hanDover, Skinny puppy seemed to have carefully thought about the sound and direction of the album, making it a far more cohesive statement than the last two records. While it is still not anywhere near the complexity and sheer originality of Vivisect VI and Too Dark Park, this is by far their best record in years.

hanDover begins slowly and pulls you in one track at time. The slow pulsating "Ovirt" actually has Ogre almost singing, rather than his usual harsh guttural howls. The music is a combination of skittering drum programming, bubbling synths, and stark atmospherics.



The maturity continues with "Cullorblind," whose throbbing menace surrounds Ogre's haunted vocal while guitars sneak up from behind and take over on the chorus.



"Wavy," the best track on the album, merges droning synths, almost post-dubstep programming with melancholic acoustic guitars and plaintive piano. Ogre's voice, manipulated and tweaked within an inch of its life, sounding like a ghost crying from hell.



The album progresses from this rather muted opening to the middle part of the record, where the beats become more forceful and urgent, the music becoming almost martial. "AshAs" has military style drum fills glitchy electronics. Ogre's constant of refrain of "my heart can't contain the missing fragments of memories" is chilling.



The record gains momentum with tracks like the driving and intense "Icktums" and the industrial thrash and clang of "Point." "Gambatte" charges forward at an industrial pace, the pounding drums and almost jaunty keyboard riff make for one of Skinny Puppy's most ebullient tracks.



The only real missteps on the record are the horror freakshow track "Brownstone" which is just too uncomfortable and experimental, and feels out of place on the album. "NoiseX" is a laudable attempt at drill n bass sonics, but at 7 minutes, is aimless and goes on far too long for any enjoyment. But two more tracks make up for these minor issues. "Vyrisus" wears its sleazy electro on its sleeve.



And "Village" takes the mistake of "Brownstone" and turns it into some better. The growling guitars and booming vocals are truly stunning industrial horrorcore.



I didn't expect to enjoy this record near as much as I do. The songwriting is tight and music is consistently surprising and interesting. For the past few albums they have felt on autopilot. With hanDover, there is the spark of old Skinny Puppy, and I hope this breathes new life into their already stellar career.

Rating Scale:

Chilfos: masterpiece; coolest thing I've heard in ages.

Woof Daddy: excellent; just a hair away from being a masterpiece.

Grrrr: very good; will definitely be considered for my top releases of the year.

Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It: good; definitely invites further listens and peaks one's interest for more material.

Meh: not horrible, but certainly not great; could have either been polished, trimmed, or re-thought.

Jeez Lady: what the hell happened? Just plain bad. They should hang their heads in shame and be forced to listen to Lady Gaga ad nauseam as penance.

Tragicistani: so bad, armed villagers with pitchforks and torches should run the artist out of the country for inflicting this abomination on the human race.