Mudvayne "Lost And Found" (2005)

  

Despite being released beyond the swift decline of Nu Metal's popularity, Lost And Found stands as the groups best selling album, charting well on debut. Its a detail I don't think reflects the quality of music within. Mudvayne arrive worn out, stripped of Progressive Metal tendencies, relying on simplistic riffs and their personal aesthetics. It bares their character but lacks enthusiasm. Songs drone by in routine, syncopated riffs playing out with little relation to the passing screams and shouts of Chad Gray.

These tracks lack the challenge and intrigue proposed prior. A lone song, IMN, infringes on their past genius. Bold baselines and polygrooves but it too dulls as the band can't seem to conjure the maniacal, frantic energy once heard bustling on L.D. 50. On occasion the tone dips with horrendous choruses, chiming "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe". Another recycling Disturbed's cries of "I don't wanna be" over and over again.

As my brief remarks indicate, this album suffers its own futility. Unable to make a lasting impression beyond the forgettable nature of its mediocrity and a few sore spots, it somehow houses the bands most popular track Happy? This song has enough punch and gusto to stand heads and shoulders apart in the runtime but still seems weak in comparison to what was achieved on their first two records.

Rating: 4/10

Type O Negative "Life Is Killing Me" (2003)

 

Consistency is a thickly thing among bands amassing the years and albums. Maturing into their second decade, I anticipated a dip. With a sound no longer reflecting scenes of the time, Life Is Killing Me firmly solidifies the genius of this group. Stripping out the crass comical skits and experimental noise design interludes, Type O Negative ram another compact disc full with seventy plus minutes of moody Gothic tinged delight.

Their eclecticism runs amuck, new territory conquered and past roots resurrected. The pumping Hardcore Punk energy of Slow, Deep and Hard returns, accompanied by classic horror cheese synths. Fresh worldly instrumentation inflects accents in breezy unison with their motif. Somehow the experience comes intermingled with wretched bursts of sludgy Doom Metal riffage, Life Is Killing Me seems to offer it all again.

No thematic arc seems prevalent, simply a string of fantastic songs. Easily jumping among its more diverse territories, dense atmospheres and ripe attitudes always accompany. Steele seems evidentially distressed. Troubled by medical and identity issues, a handful of lyrics catch the ear as "overpaid meat magicians" are taken aim at professionals I can only assume gave him news he didn't want to hear. That and "I know I'm strange, I ain't no queer" turns up unfavorable attitudes lost to time.

Its a humble reminder of the human fragility behind the mesmerizing power of music, a touch unsavory in places yet his singing is quite the opposite. Leaning further into harmony and tenderness, the vulnerable side of a burly voice expresses captivating melodies with a keen pop sensibility among the 90s Alternative Metal vibes and doomed gothic romance he conjures. A bleeding heart performance, with sore pains and bleak suffering upfront yet not falling folly to shoutings barbaric aggression.

Thus its fifteen offer up fantastical conjurings which any fan will pluck some favorites. For me, IYDKMIGTHTKY a clear favorite. As Peter chants, "Gimme that", a snaky guitar grooves broods intensely in contrast to its shoegazing verses. The pivot into a hypnotic Synth whirl as he cries "If you don't kill me" an absolute delight. I could drone on but its rather simple, a quality record, lacking soaring peaks but absent of valleys along its path too. Just one record left to enjoy now. What a discovery!

Rating: 8/10

Rune Realms "Secrets Of The Deepwood" (2018)

 

Plucked from an abundance of Dungeon Synth, Spotify's algorithm thrust forth an unobtrusive spell of lurking forest magic. Although less than a minute, Call Of The Glow Wisp caught my ear. With marching Harp melodies, complimented by the dance of softly glowing bells, its composition showed a different charm to the typical.

Delving into this brief thirty minute record, one finds a sleepy reminiscence for Fantasy synth interludes, the ones found between swells of more intense music, those moments where respite and reprieve blossom with a gentle counterpart to soothe one.

It seemingly stems from focusing on chemistries that lack a dominant perception. So often does the music drift by in a foggy haze of luscious instruments, ascending and descending the keyboard without a voice or focal melody. Thus the record peers into ambiences where notations seem environmental, as opposed to expressive.

Secrets Of The Deepwood has a subdued magical mood. Wondering through enchanted woodlands, its temperament suspends the beauty of each moment. Songs occasionally peer into a little uneasy curiosity, a hint of mischief afoot. Mostly, it sizzles on a glimmering beauty as a welcoming cast of instruments cast environmental magic.

At times adjacent to atmospheric drones, these short songs conjure a desire for more, as inconsequential Harp, Bell and Flute melodies embellish the foggy rumble of bass and airy synths that provide a firm footing for its design. Im impressed, a niche find for a genre swamped by low effort clones, this one found a way to stand apart.

Rating: 7/10

96 Bitter Beings "Camp Pain" (2018)

 

Yes, that 96 Quite Bitter Beings, CKY's best known song! Taking on its classic name to signify his artistic intent, Deron Miller went solo a year on from when his former band mates produced The Phoenix. Often credited as the brain child of Camp Kill Yourself's unique persona, my impression of CKY without him was an adequate one, yet with Camp Pain you firmly hear the creative source in action once again.

Although this record wanders into a few odd curiosities, acoustic tangents and Cavalcade Of Pervesion's odd sample snippets interchanging with a synth jam, its mostly a rocking set of songs. They firmly strike the charm that made CKY so charismatic and unique compared to other metallic Rock groups of the time.

Its oddities muddies the pacing, along with a brilliant cover of Micheal Jackson's classic Beat It. Not the first metallic cover, yet they nail it with attitude. Wedged in the middle, it breaks the albums tone as mood is suddenly shifted, rather than being a little icing on top nestled at the end of its runtime like a cover might normally be.

Not to dwell on its inadequacies, Deron's guitar style pairs wonderfully with starchy synths that boldly punch in tuneful contributions, as do his mingled lead and rhythm riffs that ebb and flow with groove and melody. Megadextria nails their early tone, vocals harmonizing with a breezy pace not found to often across its thirty minutes.

Deron's singing comes across a little rugged and aged in patches, not landing like it once would. The Whipping Hands is another track echoing former glory with memorable choppy, galloping melodic riffs, yet not firing on all cylinders. Ultimately, Camp Pain is solid, yet somewhat mixed in the shadow of legacy. It's well worth a listen however, plenty to be enjoyed between compositions less fruitful.

Rating: 6/10

Skinny Puppy "Cleanse Fold And Manipulate" (1987)

 

 

Fine tuning the dials of its industrious abandon for a noteably consistent peruse through nightmarish dystopias, Skinny Puppy loses any spark on this third and fiendishly monotonous outing. Its opening however, suggests new ground as janky and flustered bursts of softening symth seem organized. They spew murky unease alongside subtle sensibilities that suggest a slight Synthpop influence. One can hear a keen sampling of Kraftwork on First Aid. The following Addicition strides to a cohesive expression, where its disjointed elements cast a worried spell of personal struggle and abuse, between injections of obnoxious samples that brake up Orge's snarly shouts.

And then a sudden descent into mediocrity, every following song until conclusion seeming to allude any potent melody or enticing chemistry beyond its disheveled industrial exterior. Broken baselines thrust notes forth between the shuffling of metallic percussion, banging and clattering along without a settled rhythm. In flood samples and crude hissing shouts that too fail in amounting to anything of merit. Despite this extended lull, one hears an occasion echo of some aesthetic chemistry, to be repeated by Industrial Metal juggernauts to come. Other than that, it lacks on all fronts.

Rating: 2/10

Backxwash "His Happiness Shall Come First Even Though We Are Suffering" (2022)

Traversing deeper into painful themes that have defined Backxwash's raw, hopeless expressions, this newest installment of darkness suffers familiarity. Scarcely making ground on I Lie Here Buried With My Rings And My Dresses, an unhinged rattle of caustic demonic beats accompany now accustomed flows. They run formulaic as the Canadian rapper settles on her flat tone and biting cadence for another round lyrically battling her demons. Its plays as a war siren of distress, simmering in a difficult intersection of ignorance and bigotry. Select samples of pastors preaching illuminate these struggles aptly, focusing the records somewhat conceptual scope to a degree.

 His Happiness Shall Come First Even Though We Are Suffering sums itself up well. A tale of religiosity preaching division and judgement. Although not a sole focus, it fits a discomforting darkness felt through its rough instrumental abrasion, a continual unease suited to the evils parading as morals highlighted. When on point, a potent chemistry. Yet a lack of subtle bombast, groove or sensible musical appeals bounds it tightly to a thorny bed of pain. Weaving layers of disorienting noise, soft distortions and broody bass, gospel samples and estranged companions stir a wild atmosphere. These instruments peak curiosity but lack command of simple pleasures to sway one.

Almost brilliant yet a spark is missing, or just all too familiar. An issue becoming stark in Backxwash's cadences, especially later in the record, Juju a prime example. The hard rhyme inflection and pacing of words becomes repetitive and stale, adding to a sense of stagnating style. The albums ambient feeling one retreading horrors expressed before with an interchangeable nature. One distinction apparent this outing were a select few songs hiding uplifting or beautiful instruments within its mix, burying them a dense darkness, occasionally surfacing them for false relief.

Rating: 7/10

CKY "An Ånswer Can Be Found" (2005)

 

 

Fond for a touch of nostalgia and youthful memories, I thought I'd give this overlooked Camp Kill Yourself record another try. Released amidst the years discovering Extreme Metal and darker sounds, An Ånswer Can Be Found fell wayside among a group of friends who adored the CKY videos and soundtracks. With matured ears, one hears an intelligent craft through thoughtful songs falling mercy to its mid tempo pacing and calmly subdued temperament. Experimenting further with channeled guitar effects, their tuneful leads retain a distinct character encroaching on an electronic tinge.

The emphasis on a warm gooey vibes gives its mood a welcoming tone but sucks away some of the sporadic energy previously associated with the band. Frequently do its unique melodies ride upfront, exchanging harmony with Deron's competent singing. In doing so, its chugging guitar grooves drift by, plodding along with murky intent and lacking intensity. This chemistry is why I think the record once went amiss. Now I rather appreciate its balance, which gives illumination to their melodic expression and especially the slick, gorgeous, often brief, guitar solos that dazzle upon arrival.

When the guitars shift into tandem mode, the classic CKY grooves croon again. Their dynamic sway, traversing rhythm and melody simultaneously, sounds ripe on Deceit Is Striking Gold yet elsewhere it lacks the spark. Again, another addition to the initial disappointment, a muddied step into a refinement of sound that matured in its lack of bombast and explosiveness. It comes across soft yet has quite an endearing comfort as one gets to know the better malf of its songs. A fun listen! Perhaps An Ånswer Can Be Found is one that would grow on me with more exposure.

Rating: 6/10

Skinny Puppy "Mind: The Perpetual Intercourse" (1986)

Unlike the exploratory oddity predecessor Bites, Skinny Puppy's sophomore reeks of conceptualization. In presentation, aesthetic and an unwavering tone, Mind assaults the listener. With janky, discombobulated elctro-percussion, uneasy distorted samplings and the strained snarky chords of Nivek Ogre, one is plunged into a nightmare realm of their ghastly making. Striding into a rotten discomfort, these songs mostly build from unsettled origins into clusters of claustrophobic noise and howling.

Kicking off with One Time One Place, a restrained Ogre groans as airy synths brood in the distance, quite the spellbinding atmosphere. Its a navigation through pain and discomfort that's gratifying thanks to its soft melodic backing. Sadly, as the most accessible song, what follows descends into a madness with a specific shade lacking the allure to pull me in. These disjointed melodic phrases get roughly pushed aside by punchy Industrial drum kits with an assembly of noises seeming to only loosely fit together. Its hell bent on painting a dark and grisly dystopian soundscape and gets halfway there.

Despite having occasional spurts of curious chemistry to charm and capture ones attention, the janky nature of its inhuman rhythmic drive seems to steer the music into maddening piles of disorientation that ended up being my lasting impression. Some merits lay in aesthetic exploration, where intriguing Industrial textures emerged to be recycled by many more in the genre later on. Sadly though it didn't amount to much beyond the sum of its parts that became apparent after just a single spin.

Rating: 4/10

Dimmu Borgir "Dust Of Cold Memories" (2022)

 

With a lyric plucked from Absolute Sole Right as its title, Dust Of Cold Memories accompanies the recent Remixed & Remastered celebration of Puritanical Euphoric Misanthopia. Comprised of two halves, The Kolbotn Tapes and Prepod Session, these aged, degraded demos offer a curious insight into the albums creative process. The five Preprod songs are most intriguing. Recorded before all elements had converged, they play with many missing pieces and placeholders around its core musical ideas.

One of the PEM's finest crafts, Blessings Upon The Throne Of Tyranny, stands apart in its nakedness, the arsenal of razor grinding riffs completely absent. Hearing it at this stage illuminates their creative process. We see etchings of inspiration converge not unlike how you might of expected. With such a riveting rhythm guitar performance, I would of strongly guessed it was central to its formation but apparently not so. The other tracks aren't as insightful. One can hear absent contributions and entirely dropped ones too but mostly these songs arrived at this stage relatively fleshed out.

Of the Koltbotn Tapes, Fear & Wonder stands rather distant from its final incarnation with a persistent militant snare and bare piano chords. The other five arrive in varying fidelity. Loud clicking drums, occasional shouts and voices are heard, along with roomy rehearsal room ambiences being a common trait. With the songs fully formed out this point, they simply play like demos prepared before entering the studio.

Rating: 4/10

Toadies "Rubberneck" (1994)

 

Accruing influences from 90s Alt-Rock scenes I am less acquainted with, American rockers Toadies debuted with Rubberneck. A rapid thirty six minute introduction that reeked of accents I fumbled to land my finger on. With rough rabbles echoing Skate Punk and Post-Hardcore in energetic spurts, their mostly Grunge era music dodged the lingering scent of Nirvana, whilst seeming fundamentally similar. Between the hardness of estranged "anti" solos and brittle crashing guitar riffs, emotive melodic lulls and sung vulnerabilities birthed Toadies' songs to straddle terrain built by others.

Their approach paints consistent reminders, unable to escape a partial sense of deja-vu. These tracks cut to the core, flying right into the memorable meat of the music. Each song swiftly embarks on its key appeal, an appetizing listen. Vaden Lewis' youthful groans sways between a soothed playful charm and roughened anger when spearheading with strained shouts. Percussion seems to go subtly by with Punkish beats and linking rhythms powering the musics drive without getting in your face.

The guitars play with short, repetitive, simplistic riffs. Impactful power chords, burning at the edges given the ferocity they are performed with on its displays of anger and frustration. Any foray into melody and tunefulness feels intentionally stripped back and flipped over, often lingering on minimalism and noisy rebellious embellishments. Its all cohesive, coming together to be felt first before picking apart its constructs.

After many enjoyable spins, I'm left with a solid record where I'm unsure if it was influential, or influenced by. It did however encroach on the very best of early 90s Rock sounds I once was quite dismissive of. Its nice to find albums that help you creak open the door of your own ignorance and this certainly did that for me.

Rating: 7/10

First Aid Kit "Palomino" (2022)

 

Four years on from Ruins, the Swedish sisters return on the wings of another Americana stride. Sadly for this listener, a comforting familiarity failed to offer novelty where necessary. Far on from the blinding lights of Stay Gold, their humble Country tinged Folk music seems stagnant. Navigated with salient maturity, lyrical themes offer endearing resonance once again. If ever needing a dose of rooted humanity, their sincere movements through relationships and emotions are as moving as ever.

The instrumental construct is calming, a soothing temperament of gently plucked acoustic guitars, warm roomy pianos, crooning strings and apt bursts of percussion find appropriation. Swaying from cinematic swells, to the intimate, bare and stripped back, variety is not lost. A couple of tangents into Country dance rhythms run a fair stride stiff and stale, lacking gusto from the rural tang of fiddles and banjos.

For all its pleasantries, Palomino is longing for a spark to ignite a fire. Without it, these songs play so mediocre despite no missteps. Perhaps routine inspirations manifested in a comfort zone, or a settled familiarity of identity are to blame. For this listener, my many spins couldn't find the magic this time around with. Retreading old tracks, only Angel stood head above the rest. For why? I couldn't tell you why...

Rating: 5/10