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Industrial Music

JOHN 5 AND THE CREATURES: INVASION

(SELF-RELEASED; 2019) A REVIEW FROM THE VAULT

John William Lowery, better known as John 5, currently plays guitar for both Marilyn Manson and Rob Zombie and even logged time with David Lee Roth in the late ‘90s. His solo spans some fifteen years and nine studio albums, beginning with VERTIGO in 2004. His latest release with his band, the Creatures, INVASION is the topic of this review.

JOHN 5 AND THE CREATURES (John 5, Logan Miles Nix, Ian Ross) (publicity photo)

The album’s title track opens with some percussion and the eerie sound of wind whistling through the darkness; the creepy vibe almost reminds me of a Rob Zombie project, with its dark, percussion-fueled sound. A filtered guitar with a phaser slides over the top, playing a simple melody ‘til the end. All in all, the tune sets a good tone for the album. “I am John 5” starts with a robotic voice repeating “I am John 5” over and over again before the blistering lead kicks, something we’ve all come to expect from John 5. The tune shifts to the chorus, then into another solo section, even faster than the first and up an octave. The song breaks into a really groovy clean section with a funk feel and back into another phenomenal solo, extremely clean and distorted. This song is incredible! John does instrumental songs and albums as good as, if not better than some of the accepted greats (Satriani, Vai, Gilbert, Malmsteen). A badass riff kicks off “Midnight Mass.” The drumming on this one is also not to be overlooked… Logan Miles Nix is a monster on the kit. The song is an incredibly good metal track, even looking past the soloing (which, as always, is brilliant and super technical); it sounds like a cross between groove and extreme metal. The second half of the tune has the best riff and best soloing, as John breaks up the shred style for a minute, adopting a blistering Blues style that’s definitely killer. “Zoinks,” the only song I’d heard from the album before I sat to listen to the whole thing, is my favorite John 5 song to date and is VERY close to my favorite instrumental guitar piece of all time. It has everything you could possibly want: It begins with an amazing, slapping bass riff from Ian Ross that has enough pop and funk to make Flea jealous before moving into a section that sees John incorporating shred and sweeps and tapping into the overall melody; repetition of this part throughout the song is what won me over. About two and a half minutes in, the number breaks as the slapping part comes back heavy before John tears into a high speed solo with a really cool ascending and descending lick and a ridiculous sweep at the end before heading back to the original melody shortly before the end of the track. “Howdy” explores John’s “chicken pickin’” abilities. For those that are unfamiliar, chicken pickin’ incorporates your middle finger, ring finger and pinky finger, as well as a pick in your strumming hand to play extremely complex (usually Country or banjo-style) licks on the guitar. It’s extremely difficult and there are only a couple guitarists within the world of metal music who can do it well. As an avid banjo player, John 5 is one of the few. Along with the chicken pickin’, John adds some “traditional” Country licks over the two-step Country beat, very reminiscent of Les Paul and Chet Atkins. The tune also features a harmonic section in the middle that is really cool. About two minutes in, we’re hit with a VERY Les Paul-inspired section of licks that is beyond cool. After, the beat speeds up extremely fast and John breaks out an actual banjo! What a cool song!

JOHN 5 AND THE CREATURES (John 5 playing with Rob Zombie, 2016) (photo credit: DARREN TRACY)

The album’s second half kicks off with “Crank It”/“Living With Ghosts,” which has a very strange sound indeed, sort of metal mixed with EDM at the start; when the melody/solo comes in, it’s just an absolute showcase of 5’s abilities. He does such a good job bringing the solo to you in a way that doesn’t feel excessive. It is incredible! The middle section between the two tunes slows things down with a clean section leading into a heavy, dirty rhythm guitar as John goes into a slow melodic solo with a wicked two guitar harmony section. There’s more insanity as the soloing heats up. The song ends after one more round of the dark, slower part. “Cactus Flower” opens with a quote from the Stephen King movie CARRIE and goes into a very different direction than anything we have heard so far on this album: The guitar sound is cleaner, the pace slower. It’s a great song for allowing yourself to drift away… super moody and great at evoking emotions, making you feel what John was trying to convey. The opening salvo of “I Want It All,” an arpeggio sweeping lick into a very intricate sliding lick, just shows how absurdly talented and amazing John 5 really is. The song dropped my jaw a couple times; as a guitar player, I’m in shock… it definitely showcases John’s abilities. Nestled toward the end of an album of killer music, “I Want It All” is a must listen. John throws a talk box in throughout the song, intoning the track’s title whenever there’s a break from the soloing. The main riff is full of everything you could want: Emotion, shred, distortion, unbridled technical prowess… just a killer track, an absolute GEM for any guitar player or fan of guitar instrumentals. To this reviewer’s ears, “I Like the Funk” almost sounds Tom Morello-inspired, FULL of that man’s emotion and undeniable groove. It’s got plenty of wah, pop and slapping, with some moments of absolute killer shred and insane bends that just make you… move. There’s a really awesome section at about 2:50 in, a call and response with a sample of a female singer (Lisa Forman) saying/chanting “I like the funk” and 5 just RIPPING licks afterwords. As a point of interest, Cinderella’s Fred Coury plays drums on the cut. The last song on the album is “Constant Sorrow,” a cover of the folk classic “I Am a Man of Constant Sorrow,” written by Dick Burnett in 1913 and first recorded by Emry Arthur in 1928; it’s the song that George Clooney’s character sings in O BROTHER, WHERE ART THOU?. Side note: My favorite version comes from a 2002 live Alison Krauss and Union Station. If you’ve never heard of Union Station, PLEASE PLEASE go check them out; they play Bluegrass and Country and are incredibly talented and woefully underrated. The song’s appearance here is John 5 paying tribute to the tune’s message and staying power. As always, John’s version is full of technical wizardry and skillful playing. I don’t know what more I can say about it; it is a solid instrumental cover and a really cool way to close out this album.

JOHN 5 AND THE CREATURES (John 5) (publicity photo)

If you have the time, sit yourself down and give the whole thing a listen. There is not a bad song on this album. I loved it! Every second is something worth hearing. If there is a complaint, it would be this: I would have liked to hear him slow things down just a bit more; I feel like those slower moments are the ones that make it original, setting it apart from other people. All in all, though, a solid 9 out of 10 and one of my favorite guitar albums ever. If you ever had any doubts about John 5’s talents, this record goes a long way in showing that he really is an incredible musician, one of the best guitarists on planet earth. He’s made great progress with these solo albums, with his playing maturing and changing, while still maintaining his original style. So, what are you waiting for? Check it out!

ABJECTION RITUAL: SOUL OF RUIN, BODY OF FILTH

(MALIGNANT RECORDS; 2018)

I am the type of person that likes to thoroughly research any artist that I write about, mentioning each band member and any guest musician’s contribution to the particular recording up for review. Finding ANY information about Abjection Ritual is like collecting hen’s teeth. However, after much scouring of various online data bases, I was able to identify the man behind the sounds. Now, after some soul-searching, I have decided that if this gentleman has gone to such extremes to keep his identity a mystery, I won’t blow it for him here. Suffice to say, the man is genuinely disturbed… the kind of disturbed that all true geniuses seem to share. These are the men and women who create the most adventurous and thought-provoking music, movies, literature, art… each a statement on the world, its populace or, indeed, the inner machinations of the creator of said piece. So… with that out of the way, let’s take a look at SOUL OF RUIN, BODY OF FILTH, the fourth overall release from Abjection Ritual and second for Malignant Records.

ABJECTION RITUAL (publicity photo)

Previous Abjection Ritual releases have tended toward a kind of synthesized industrial metal. SOUL OF RUIN… sees the now-duo moving in a more organic direction, introducing guitar, bass and a live drummer into the mix of industrial ambience and heavy electronics. “Lamentations” is the shortest piece on the album, a droning dirge of an introduction with haunting female… uh… well, “Lamentations” leads right into “Body of Filth.” Tribal drums, eardrum-piercing feedback and an assortment of other evil sounding instrumentation replaces the hypnotic droning of the intro. Screamed male vocals are introduced before the whole thing devolves into a hive of noise, buzzing toward an unresolved terminus. “Blood Mother” is a sinister, Dio-era Sabbath wall of doom and gloom highlighted by ridiculously heavy riffs and ponderous drums. The middle section – a stinging, horror movie soundtrack – features a female voice (Rennie Resmini) and odd sci-fi sound effects before returning to the ominous bass grind of the track’s central theme. Hoarse, sore-throat inducing vocals plead and exhort, delivering what I must assume is the desired queasy effect. Author Christopher Ropes delivers a spoken word intro to “Deathbed Conversion.” The best analogy I can come up with regarding this one is that it sounds like the gates of Hell opening, inviting in the soul of a dying man. The lyrics are virtually vomited out, either Satan or the tortured soul seeking redemption (or condemnation). I’m not too sure about the conversion, but if the next song, “Ruin,” is any indication, things did not go well. The tone is oddly brighter, with a synthesized orchestra (or, is that a chorus?) seemingly offering light to the aura, if not the soul, of the entire record. Even so, the track features some crushingly heavy guitar and two guttural voices manage to give the tune and even more chaotic sound than the first half of the record. A lone voice, almost plaintive, dominates the second half grind.

“Carnassial Passage” is a kind of throbbing fever dream that somehow brings to mind the classic Alice Cooper tune, “Unfinished Sweet.” That may have more to do with the song title and the creepy drills that keep intruding into the mix. I feel fairly certain that this one would probably give even the Cooper boys nightmares. And that, friends, is a high compliment to the damaged minds behind the tune. The album ends with the nine-minute-plus magnum opus, “Old Sins.” It’s a slow descent into madness with heavily fuzzed-out guitar and bass with screamed vocals before the painful squall of a guitar’s feedback jolts you awake like electroshock therapy gone horribly wrong. Oddly effective and provocative, the minimalist drums make the cut intensely claustrophobic, forcing the listener into an unwelcome introspective haze. And we’re just a little more than halfway in; a more traditional approach is introduced at about 5:15 in, with a somewhat standard chord progression from the bass and Fripp-like sonic sweeps of guitar. Seemingly just out of listening range is what sounds like a psychotherapy session taking place. Taken by itself, “Old Sins” is a most effective and utterly disturbing piece of music; taken as a solitary piece of a larger construct, it seems to be the final abandonment of all hope, the dissolution of the final thread of sanity. The emotional turmoil that the song elicits, the journey we are forced to embark upon is exactly the desired effect that Abjection Ritual was aiming for. All good music, literature, art has the ability to lead its audience down a path that will generate a certain visceral reaction from said audience; SOUL OF RUIN, BODY OF FILTH as a whole and, particularly, “Old Sins” by itself does exactly that. I was mentally drained from the experience and, just maybe, a different person for having had that experience. That is the kind of art that one rarely experiences nowadays.

GRIDFAILURE: FURTHER LAYERS OF SOCIETAL COLLAPSE

(THE COMPOUND RECORDS; 2016)

gridfailure

I like noise! Noise is good. Particularly the conflagration of noise manifested by David Brenner, recording as the dark ambient project, Gridfailure. Five months after the release of the bone-jarring debut, ENSURING THE BLOODLINE ENDS HERE, Brenner is back with FURTHER LAYERS OF SOCIETAL COLLAPSE, an EP that is full of the best kinds of noise, utilizing field recordings, as well as heavily processed rock and pop instrumentation, lending the entire proceeding the air of a landscape decimated by industrial collapse. In less than thirty minutes, David (who is co-founder of the influential extreme music public relations firm, Earsplit) takes the listener on a trip that is – alternately – serene and pastoral, frightening and apocalyptic. In short, this is a sound pastiche for the thinking man. The seven-tracks, released on October 31 as a free download (name your own price) at Gridfailure’s Bandcamp page, is scheduled for a limited edition cassette release in the near future. In the meantime, feel free to listen below.

Gridfailure (David Brenner) (uncredited manipulated photo)
Gridfailure (David Brenner) (uncredited manipulated photo)

If you’re familiar with paranormal investigative shows like GHOST HUNTERS or GHOST ADVENTURES or the “found footage” of THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT, you will recognize the underlying vibe of “A Severing of Ties.” The entire thing plays like an EVP (electronic voice phenomena) session conducted deep in a haunted forest, with weird, disembodied voices buried in a sea of white noise. Toward the end of the track, some tribal percussion (courtesy of Full Scale Riot’s BJ Allen) peeks out of the miasma. “Digital Crush” maintains the thematic thread of the first piece, as the drums resurface briefly at the beginning, before more found sounds and other-worldly voices are introduced into the mix; what appears to be a ghostly single-note piano coda intrudes on the whole affair, while crickets, cicadas and other woodland noises filter in and out to great affect. On “Android Infusion,” the EVP detector has been replaced by a transistor radio tuned to a weak-signal free-form Jazz station transmitting from somewhere within a war zone. “Get Fucked Dance” sounds like a residual (looped) haunting at the site of a horrible train wreck, relaying images of doom, destruction, pain and… a Native American wind instrument?

With “Broken Systems,” the skittering and buzzing of insects reacting to the wildly fluctuating radio waves and apocryphal voices seem to announce the opening of the Gates of Hell. The sounds of forest creatures is slowly replaced by a fever dream of industrial cacophony on “Indian Point Direct Proximity Warning Tester.” This calm before the atomic fallout is, quite naturally, played out over the incessant drone of a warning siren. “Woodlands of Self-Impalement,” though the final track, is the pivotal centerpiece of this dystopian soundscape, encompassing nearly one third of the total time. Thunder in the distance heralds the heavy winds and the storm is upon us; the creatures – natural, spiritual, demonic – cease their chirping and moaning and laughing… the dream, the inner turmoil gains momentum as the white noise of despair overtakes all thought, leading to silence and the sweet release of…

ROB ZOMBIE: THE ELECTRIC WARLOCK ACID WITCH SATANIC ORGY CELEBRATION DISPENSER

(ZODIAC SWAN RECORDS/T-BOY RECORDS/UNIVERSAL MUSIC ENTERPRISES; 2016)

The Electric Warlock Acid Witch Satanic Orgy Celebration Di

For whatever it’s worth, I was one of those people who could either take it or leave it as far as the wildly, improbably popular band White Zombie were concerned. Why? I don’t know… wrong time, wrong place? Maybe it was the demonic over-saturation at Alternative Radio (you seemingly couldn’t swing a severed head without hitting a DJ playing, having just played or getting ready to play “Thunder Kiss ’65” or “More Human Than Human” between 1992 and 1997 or so). Whatever, I was just never that into the band; however, fast forward a year or two and the release of vocalist/visionary Rob Zombie’s solo debut, HELLBILLY DELUXE, and I was hooked. In the ensuing years, the erstwhile banner-waver for low-rent, science-fiction based shock rock has expanded his influence, taking his playfully bent visions into other media… most successfully in the realms of indie comic books and movies. He’s also become quite the live draw, as well as an in-demand producer and co-writer in certain musical circles, as well as a professional “guest vocalist,” having made appearances on several Alice Cooper albums. When the Coopers were (finally!) inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Rob did the honors.

Rob Zombie (John Five, Rob Zombie, Piggy D, Ginger Fish) (publicity photo)
Rob Zombie (John Five, Rob Zombie, Piggy D, Ginger Fish) (publicity photo)

THE ELECTRIC WARLOCK ACID WITCH SATANIC ORGY CELEBRATION DISPENSER (say that three times fast… heck, say that once without messing it up!) marks Zombie’s sixth solo release of twisted boogie metal, and though it would be easy to dismiss this record as just more of the same, it would appear that the living dead man still has a few tricks up his sleeve. Does it sound like Rob Zombie? Well… duh! You see, the thing about an artist like Rob is this: No matter how much someone complains about everything sounding the same, the first time Zombie and his band deviate one iota from the accepted sound and formula, the fans are gonna yell that he doesn’t care about his REAL fans and he has – DUNH, DUNH, DUNH! – sold out. So, THE ELECTRIC WARLOCK… sticks to what has worked in the past, while adding just enough “different” to be subversive. “The Last of the Demons Defeated” is a 90-second introduction with Rob chanting/intoning “Electric warlock… electric warlock… electric warlock acid witch” over a massive tribal stomp. The second track begins with a cartoon voice delivering a well-known mantra of those uptight traveling tent revival preachers from the ’50s through the ’80s, decrying rock music as “Satanic cyanide” before erupting with a from-the-bowels Death Metal vocal over a Sabbath-worthy riff before a murderous Zombie relates his story of how rock turned him into a depraved maniac over a swirling cacophony of guitars (courtesy of this record’s secret weapon, John Five); the song’s title, obviously, is “Satanic Cyanide! The Killer Rocks On!” plus… bonus points for fitting the phrase “mohair coffin” into the lyrics. Continuing the insanely long titles, “The Life and Times of a Teenage Rock God” is more to form, with Zombie’s rumbling, staccato vocal delivery; there is a cool “Spaghetti Western” synth break toward the end of the track, provided by Zeuss. “Well, Everybody’s Fucking In a UFO” follows, a weird metal hoedown filled with allusions of getting high (either by smoking some weed or breathing some swamp gas), being abducted by aliens and being… uh… probed. Rob’s whacked-out backwoods voice is hilarious and definitely adds to the silliness. The exquisitely named interlude, “A Hears Overturns With the Coffin Bursting Open,” starts off with a voice repeating “So revolting and yet so interesting” over and over before giving way to a quite pretty acoustic guitar, disturbing in its elegance. The final tune on Side One of the vinyl version of THE ELECTRIC WARLOCK… is “The Hideous Exhibitions of a Gore Whore,” is kind of a ’60s-style Farfisa-heavy garage homage to THE MUNSTERS and bad horror movies, featuring such genre-worthy lyrics as “She got Vincent Price tattooed on her thigh/Below a devil bat with a crazy eye” and “So much blood everywhere/And all she wants is more.” The images this number evokes makes it one of my favorites of this release.

Rob Zombie, OZZFEST (photo credit: DARREN TRACY)
Rob Zombie, OZZFEST (photo credit: DARREN TRACY)

Side Two” of the record stays the course set by the first half, with “Medication For the Melancholy” playing up the misconception that celebrities have lives far-and-above those of “ordinary people,” steamrolling the more listener-friendly lyric put forth by Mark Knopfler more than thirty years ago with Dire Straits’ “Money For Nothing.” John Five once more delivers a trippy, effects-laden solo and suitably like-minded leads; Ginger Fish’s drumming is… BIG, as always. It would seem that “subtle” is something Ginger doesn’t do well, nor would we want him to. “In the Age of the Consecrated Vampire We All Get High” is more like White Zombie’s syncopated stomp than anything else on THE ELECTRIC WARLOCK… , with an incredible backward solo from John. And, I don’t know if it’s the mix or the playback systems I’ve been listening on but, this is the first time on the album that Piggy D’s bass stands out, a wicked thump and rumble that perfectly fits this song. “Super-Doom-Hex-Gloom Part One” is another short (relatively speaking) interlude with a short spoken-word introduction before evolving into a series of computer blips and a throbbing synth bass, a weird piece of soundtrack music to an even weirder, cheaply produced early 1970s horror movie. With guitars set to stun and effects a-plenty from Zeuss’ keyboard and Piggy’s bass and Zombie’s processed voice delivering a litany recounting his reasons for being (“Well – I was born a rotten freak/Slicking back a widows peak,” “Well – I was born on Hullabaloo/Mind control is what I do”), “In the Bone Pile” is one of the more satisfying tracks on the record. Plus… ya gotta love the images that title conjures in your mind. “Get Your Boots On! That’s the End of Rock and Roll” is truly the only full-tilt rock and roll song here, with pummeling rhythms from Ginger and Piggy and a vicious solo from John Five. The record clocks in at 31 minutes, more or less, with each of the first eleven tracks running an economical 2:58 or less, which makes the final cut, “Wurdalak,” somewhat of an anomaly with a run time of five-and-a-half minutes. It’s all Rob’s phased voice spitting out Lovecraftian lyrics over some spooky music and noises until the final couple of minutes, which turns into a creepy piano coda that sounds right out of THE EXORCIST… somehow a fitting end to the insanity of the last half hour. So, is this the greatest record ever made? Is it the greatest Rob Zombie record ever made? Will it change lives? Will it make the world a better place? The answer to all four questions is, “No.” But, if you ask me if it’s fun, the answer is a resounding, “Yes.” And… what more can you ask from a rock and roll record?

FEAR FACTORY/SOILWORK/SPADES AND BLADES/SYSTEM SLAVE

(April 22, 2016; POP’S NIGHTCLUB, Sauget IL)

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Hello, fellow rockers… Dustin Gabel here to bring you my first concert review since my college days. A little background on my start: After graduating from Belleville Township High School East, I moved on to college at Belleville Area College (now known as Southwestern Illinois College or, SWIC) and secured a spot for a new section in the college paper, STUDENT OUTLOOK, doing concert reviews. That landed me next to some of the period’s most influential bands, like Nine Inch Nails, Metallica, Rob Zombie, Queensryche… once in awhile getting lucky enough to be given backstage passes. After college, I decided to go into the military which kept me occupied for 12 years, but I wanted to keep my foot in the door for doing concert reviews, live concert photography, and interviews; so, after a long wait, and some sorely missed opportunities to get back into the music scene… I am back! I do see that a lot has changed in the way public relations and publicity for bands is handled, but being in the photo pit for concerts still has that flavor I missed… being inches away from your favorite singers and band members, taking pictures. So without further ado, I bring you… THE DEMANUFACTURE TOUR starring Fear Factory, Soilwork, Spades and Blades and System Slave! Enjoy!

System Slave (Cody Golden, Chuck Guzman; Mike Messex, Stephen Harris) (photo credits: DUSTIN GABEL)
System Slave (Cody Golden, Chuck Guzman; Mike Messex, Stephen Harris) (photo credits: DUSTIN GABEL)

Opening the show was System Slave from Sullivan, Missouri. Barely on the music scene for a year since their start in January 2015, the five members came together to share a common goal: Writing music and, someday, taking their music to the world stage. To start building their fanbase, three songs were released on reverbnation.com while they worked on their album. Shortly after the release of the three songs, titled “Loaded,” “Last In Line” and “Lights In Seattle,” the track “Loaded” went on to win the best rock song in the Academia Awards. This will definately be a band that’s going to excel with it’s edgy, powerful, melodic style and with their first full length album due out later in 2016. When asked about what genre their music should be placed in, the answer was “REAL,” which is definately the truth! For being a relatively new band, I saw no signs of that at all. The members work really well together, with several different musical styles falling into place, delivering a live show that could easily be compared to bands that have been on the scene for much longer. System Slave definitely has that fluidity that you just don’t see in new bands who haven’t even recorded their first album!

Spades and Blades (Jason Todd; Tommy Jean Stiles) (photo credits: DUSTIN GABEL)
Spades and Blades (Jason Todd; Tommy Jean Stiles) (photo credits: DUSTIN GABEL)

Next up was California act Spades And Blades. Formed in 2006, the founding members have actually been on the music scene since 2001, as a hardcore punk band named the Havoc; but, it was decided that they wanted to form something different, a heavier project with a new life. They definitely delivered that with style, with their mashup of metal, hardcore, and hard rock leading to a more melodic metalcore sound in 2013, with the release of their EP, PROUD TO BE LOUD. After completing a successful tour in 2015, the band played several local shows in Southern California to support the release of the album THE END IS NEAR in February, 2016. After ten years as a band, the music industry is finally taking notice of Spades and Blades and their progressive metalcore style as a force to be reckoned with. My first thought after they started their set, without knowing much of the band history prior to 2006, I saw a lot of Henry Rollins influence in the singer, and now, knowing more about their hardcore roots, it all fits in. Either way, if you are able to catch them out on tour, Spades and Blades is a band you won’t regret showing up early or staying late for!

Soilwork (Bjorn Strid, Dirk Verbeuren; Sylvain Coudret) (photo credits: DUSTIN GABEL)
Soilwork (Bjorn Strid, Dirk Verbeuren; Sylvain Coudret) (photo credits: DUSTIN GABEL)

The third band to take the stage was Soilwork from Sweden. Having arrived early, for a scheduled 3:00 PM interview with Bjorn “Speed” Strid, the group’s frontman, I was pumped up for the show and the chance to learn more about their music, methods of inspiration for their songs, influences, and Bjorn’s personal side. Unfortunately, due to a tour bus incident, Soilwork and Fear Factory were running a few hours late. Having formed in 1995, under the name Inferior Breed, they changed their name in 1996 to Soilwork, which means working from the ground up… which is what they have done despite the lineup changing several times, with Bjorn being the longest standing (and only original) member. As the singer stated, Soilwork is sounding better than ever and I can’t agree more! After their set, I was able to pull Bjorn aside for a few minutes to talk about the tour to support the new release, THE RIDE MAJESTIC. He stated they will be back in the area in the fall; hopefully, there are no incidents to make them run late again and I can deliver a solid, information-filled interview for you all to enjoy!

Fear Factory (Burton C Bell; Dino Cazares) (photo credits: DUSTIN GABEL)
Fear Factory (Burton C Bell; Dino Cazares) (photo credits: DUSTIN GABEL)

Finally, the long awaited part of the show for many. Despite the tour bus mishap (a  broken engine belt), putting them late for arrival at the venue but keeping in contact with the tour manager via text message, vocalist Burton C Bell had a direct quote for the anxious, waiting fans… “Sorry it’s gonna be a throw and go, but we’ll give ’em one hell of a show”. Having seen Fear Factory several times in the past with Sepultura, that promise was lived up to… just like I expected from Fear Factory! They never disappoint. While the stage hands were setting up their equipment, we were graced with the PURPLE RAIN soundtrack being played – as requested by the band – to honor the late musician, Prince. To hear every single person in Pop’s singing “Purple Rain” was a very emotional, respectful tribute as he has had a phenomonal impact on many musicians in across all genres. The music slowly faded out, lights dimmed, and here, finally, was the much awaited moment with Fear Factory taking the stage to support the twentieth anniversary of the release of DEMANUFACTURE, opening with the title track, tearing straight into “Self Bias Resistor,” followed by “Zero Signal,” “Replica,” “New Breed,” “Dog Day Sunrise,” “Body Hammer,” “H-K (Hunter-Killer),” “Pisschrist” and “A Therapy For Pain.” As the house lights came back on, fearing that was all of their set, the crowd started chanting for more. It paid off, as the house lights went back down and Fear Factory returned to belt out four more tracks, “Shock, “Soul Hacker,” “Regenerate,” finally ending the night with “Edgecrucher.” Burton stated he would deliver one hell of a show and that promise was lived up to with kickass double-bass, insane riffs, heavy bass lines, and lyrical slaughter as only Fear Factory can deliver!

INSECT ARK: PORTAL/WELL

(Autumnsongs Records; 2015)

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For many years, I’ve worn it as a badge of pride that I was almost always the one, at whatever publication I wrote for, to champion the weirdest, darkest, most challenging music the publication received. I developed an interest in ambient and experimental music quite early, and although I don’t just automatically like things BECAUSE they are weird and dark, I sure can tell when a creative aesthetic is at work, and when the practitioners CARE what they are doing. There is no doubt that Insect Ark mean it, man. This PORTAL/WELL release, their debut, is a stunning journey to places most folks just won’t go. We’re talking serious, concentrated creepy atmospherics, a sonic template where drones exist at a frequency outside the comfort zone and metallic sounds emanating from a dark urban alley may be from a decaying structure trying to return to its original nature or from the titular “portal” to some very threatening subterranean place. And also, something WICKED this way DRUMS… the pounding, ominous percussion here on tracks like “The Collector” (I would NOT wanna know what he collects!) and “Octavia,” though played by a human being named Ashley Spungin, does NOT represent the sound of physical release, It simply is not the rhythm of anything but perhaps a tortured psyche. Spungin isn’t the auteur here, though. Remarkably, Insect Ark is almost entirely the vision of a woman, a remarkable female composer/multi-instrumentalist named Dana Schechter. Her past music includes the more luminous Bee and Flower project, and she is an animator and video artist working in the film business.

Insect Ark (Dana Schechter) (photo credit: LAUREN BILANKO)
Insect Ark (Dana Schechter) (photo credit: LAUREN BILANKO)

I can only guess Schechter’s reasons for making such unsettling, alien music. She’s probably heard some records by Lustmord and Nurse With Wound, or who knows, maybe she is working through her own inner demons with this stuff. The Insect Ark website helpfully relates: “Creating a personal soundtrack to the human psyche’s underbelly, Insect Ark weaves a brooding textural landscape, a starless night spiked with light and flash.” Yeah, THAT! Gosh, I am not seeing much light, though. “Portal” and “Parallel Twins” could be soundtracks for a modern horror film, something by a European director, perhaps, who pushes the envelope too far. Life is NOT a safe, fun thing as expressed in this music. And yet, there are moments of eerie, spellbinding ambient beauty, as on the haunting “Low Moon,” which fully falls into the genre category of “dark ambient” and probably bests a few male composers of that style in its purity. Not to put too fine an oh so sharp point ON it, but we’re not used to hearing women make music like this. It’s potent, scary and damn self-assured. Insect Ark do NOT want you to sleep comfortably or, in fact, to draw too much inspiration from the beauty of life when there’s plenty of nightmarish stuff also deserving of your attention. But still, this is only a record in the end. A vital, off-center, somewhat unhinged soundtrack to stumbling through the darkness in dangerous times. I admire what Insect Ark have conjured. It’s got a good “buzz” and you can TRANCE to it…

DOYLE/ELEMENT A440/HUNG LIKE A MARTYR/THE SUPERMEN

(November 21, 2015; READY ROOM, Saint Louis MO)

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So, this is the second metal show I’ve seen in the past five days and, like the Amaranthe show at Pop’s, this one had its fair share of drunken yahoos and intolerable idjits; in fact, several of the drunken yahoos and intolerable idjits from Pop’s were performing the same functions at the Ready Room. Even before the lights went down and the first band took the stage, a woman who seemed relatively sane five nights previous (her twelve year old son was with her then) was already so sloshed that she was slurring her words and was unable to navigate her way across the floor to the rest room, but we’ll get into more specifics as we go through the evening’s festivities, beginning with…

Supermen (Jimmy All-Dick; Valiance Jack; Gaius Julius Sensei Almighty) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Supermen (Jimmy All-Dick; Valiance Jack; Gaius Julius Sensei Almighty) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

The Supermen, an unrepentant mish-mash of punk, metal, misogyny, soft-core porn, comedy and wrestling from the StL. This band is pure, mindless mayhem and their stage show had so much happening that it was hard to find a focal point; I’m sure that a majority of the males in attendance spent most of their time focusing on the barely-dressed dancer/dominatrix who, according to the Supermen’s Facebook page is called (Hail the New) Dawn and is listed as “Property.” For the ladies, there was Tiger Mask IV, the male counterpart to Dawn, who is the group’s “Lead Partier” and was, likewise, barely dressed, sporting a Luchidor mask, wrestling trunks and boots. The rest of the band have also adopted wrestling gear and names (Maxxx Loads, “the Prom King,” plays bass; Valiance Jack, “the Promiscuous Protomartyr,” plays drums; Jimmy All-Dick, “the Alpha Male,” plays guitar; Gaius Julius Sensei Almighty is the singer; and the “manager” is Osama Bin Erickson, the Dean of Debauchery). Musically, think early punk laced with liberal doses of Motorhead-style metallic speed; lyrically, look to bands such as the Cramps or Dwarves for like-minded reference points (translation: Don’t try to read too much into what’s going on with the Supermen; they don’t take themselves too seriously and neither should you). Even though the look and songs do, in fact, border on the cartoonish, don’t miss out on the fact that these guys are actually really good players. The band’s twenty-minute, ten song set included such instant classics as “White Women In Distress,” “Live Punk Sex Act,” “I Kill Everything I Fuck” and their call-to-arms anthem, “Blood, Honor and Pussy.” A fun time was had by all, except for a fellow cameraman, who was continually hit or shoved from behind by (surprise, surprise!) a drunken tool who would wander to the back of the room and then charge to the front, yelling, “Hey! Hey! Hey!” to whoever happened to be on stage at the time. Music reviews should not focus so much on the audience’s behavior, but when that behavior actually hinders your enjoyment of the music, it must be addressed (in an effort, hopefully, to curtail such incidents in the future for the enjoyment and safety of everyone involved).

Hung Like a Martyr (Mark Nicol; Bruce Morrison; Paul Dontigney) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Hung Like a Martyr (Mark Nicol; Bruce Morrison; Paul Dontigney) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Another local act, Hung Like a Martyr (who, coincidentally, have opened for Doyle’s old band, the Misfits), offered more of a straight metal sound that was not unappreciated by yours truly. Bruce Morrison’s voice has a certain Vince Neil quality, but carries the emotional weight of a John Corabi (thus embodying both Crue singers in one), though the actual music was heavier than the Crue’s pop metal. The dual guitars of Erik Spiller and Paul Dontigney reminded me of the Phil Campbell/Wurzel two-pronged guitar attack of Motorhead’s mid-’80s to mid-’90s period… rough, fast and insanely melodic; the rhythm section of bassist Adam “Adamned” Fuchs and drummer Mark Nicol managed to keep things brutally heavy while never giving up their funky groove. The set built from the frustration of watching this country crumble under the weight of internal strife and increasing violence, as well as attacks from without, with the opening song, “Bent,” a battle cry that lets everyone know that we may be bent but we’re not broken; “Kill Your Own King” and “Watching the World Burn” are laments to the fact that America is so divided that we can seemingly no longer find a common ground on which to come together; “The Reaper” and “Nuclear Salvation” follow the same apocalyptic message. The final number, “Dead Body Dumptruck,” is basically a dark hymn to what we have to look forward to if we don’t get our act together: Death from within and annihilation from without, leading to a sort of NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD zombie apocalypse of rotting corpses in mass graves. The songs – while very much in the horror/science fiction vein – had an angry spark of truth, delivered with a conviction and energy that was hard to ignore… even the drunks and idjits behaved during the set. All of the tunes, aside from “Bent,” are from earlier incarnations of Hung Like a Martyr; with a new record eminent, I, for one, am excited to see where new vocalist Morrison leads the group, lyrically, from here.

Element A440 (Kat; Halo; Katt) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Element A440 (Kat; Halo; Katt) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Though I’m not really into the “Anti-Christ Superstar” imagery and lyrics of groups like Marilyn Manson, I must say that Element A440 serve up their version with something that Manson frontman Brian Warner could never offer: Talent. Add to that a genuine conviction for what they’re doing (a seemingly concerted effort to not just shock or offend for the sake of being shocking and offensive… I mean, this FEELS real coming from this group) and, whether you agree with their stance or not, you have the makings of a fiery, evil set of industrial metal that is hard to ignore. Where the band does appear to be pandering to the lowest common denominator is the over-the-top attempts to titillate with sophomoric pornographic lyrics and visuals; a shame really, as the horror and religious elements of their set are what drives the narrative. It would appear that vocalist Halo (who also does programming and plays guitar… at least in the studio) is the mastermind behind the look and sound of Element A440… he is the sole songwriter and, I would guess, the visual designer of the band’s appearance and onstage set-up; the set was structured with a smart ebb-and-flow at the beginning, eventually ramping up to a chaotic close with the entire band donning some of the creepiest half-masks this side of the original Slipknot… the only thing we didn’t see was Halo’s fire-breathing (a matter of strict fire laws and low ceilings, I would guess). The musicians – guitarist Graven, drummer Kat and bassist Katt – were tight and scalpel-sharp, delivering their brutal, misshapen pop with a glee that never quite matched Halo’s but… that didn’t keep them from trying, pushing each other (and their manic leader) to ever harsher heights of musical mayhem. The songs that had the most impact, for me, included “Dance Dead,” “Wasted,” “Godless,” “Freak” and, I suppose, “Porn Star,” though for different reasons than you would think. I would definitely like to see a full Element A440 headlining set with the group pulling out all of the musical and effects stops… perhaps outdoors at Pop’s? Naturally, the drunks were back from their sabbatical during the last set, as the “Hey! Hey! Hey!” guy was back, seeking the acknowledgment from the stage that would validate his coolness and, the seemingly sane mother from five nights ago was all but molesting a couple of young men in the front row.

Doyle (Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein; Alex Story) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Doyle (Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein; Alex Story) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

With a new band, a new album and a tour with Glenn Danzig highlighting the last few years in the career of Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein, the Misfit guitarist is building on those successes with a headlining run through the States. Doyle (the man and the band) brought their ABOMINATOR TOUR to the Ready Room on the Saturday before Thanksgiving and absolutely destroyed! Doyle’s signature slash-and-burn style of guitar playing meshes well with the howling, growling vocal gymnastics of Alex “Wolfman” Story (he of Cancerslug fame) and, with bassist Left Hand Graham and drummer Brandon Pertzborn laying down a rhythmic bottom end denser than a graveyard fog, the crowd hung on every note, every scream. The set, as may be expected, was heavy on music from ABOMINATOR (ten tunes) and classic Misfits (eight songs). In fact, until the final four numbers, the group alternated three Doyle songs with three Misfits numbers; that pattern was broken up by a cover of KISS’ “Strutter,” which we’ll discuss later.

Doyle (Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein with Brandon Pertzborn; Doyle) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Doyle (Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein with Brandon Pertzborn; Doyle) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Kicking off with Abominator,” the band proved their metal mettle (sorry… couldn’t resist), with Doyle already stalking the stage and hammering his guitar mercilessly. As much as I enjoyed Story’s vocals throughout, it wasn’t until the fifth song, the classic punk of “Ghouls Night Out.” I suppose now is as good a time as any to mention that our screamer did change up the act a bit for the headliners; his mantra now became, “Doyle! Doyle! Hey, Doyle,” which at the beginning of the set was directed at Alex Story. The inebriated Mom, cajoled and egged on by this goof between bouts of yelling his lungs out at the band, even made it onto the stage, a little to the right of Graham, where she just kinda swayed to the music until the tour manager took her arm and led her off, at which point, I assume, she began cozying up to the brothers who had been fending her off the entire evening. So, anyway, after “Skulls” (from the WALK AMONG US album), it was back to new material, including the wickedly awesome “Dreamingdeadgirls” and Love Like Murder.”

Doyle (Alex Story; Alex with Left Hand Graham) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Doyle (Alex Story; Alex with Left Hand Graham) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

The musical merry-go-round continued with three of the best tracks from EARTH AD, “Green Hell,” “Bloodfeast” and “Devilock.” Now, of course, hearing all of the great Misfits songs, when I sat down with Doyle after the show, I had to ask the question that has been on every Fiend’s mind since the original group broke up nearly 35 years ago: “Are the reunion rumors true and, if so, where do things stand now?” Doyle tells me, “I’m workin’ on it. I’ve got two fuckin’ bulls to deal with, ya know? One dogs lookin’ this way, one dogs lookin’ that way and this guy’s sayin’, ‘What do you want from me?’” What more can we hope for? Well, for one thing, a second album from Doyle, the band but, more immediately, the final round of ABOMINATOR songs, including the heavy, atmospheric Mark of the Beast,” and the graveyard mysticism of “Cemeterysexxxand “Drawing Down the Moon.” This was the point where the guys broke the cycle, tearing into “Strutter.” It’s also the point that the two drunks actually managed to get Doyle’s attention; the woman was attempting to lift her shirt up, an occurrence that the gentleman just couldn’t let pass without alerting the guitarist: “Hey, Doyle! Doyle! Doyle! Look at these!” In mid-solo, without missing a beat, Doyle replied, “I don’t wanna see those nasty old things.” Crest (breast?) fallen, the duo were utterly lost, put in their places by the one guy in the whole building you didn’t want to cross. With a smirk on his face, Alex introduced the final two – and possibly the two most well-known – Misfits numbers, “Last Caress” and “Die Die My Darling,” which has attained legendary status among fans and punks everywhere. Closing with “Hope Hell Is Warm,” Doyle, Alex, Brandon and Graham left the crowd with ringing ears and memories of a great night of punk and metal.

Doyle (Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Doyle (Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Before leaving this review, I should probably explain why I spent so much time relating the actions of two very drunk people. The reasons are really simple: First, your actions made you a part of the show to the group of people around you, ruining what may have been their only night out for the entire month (or longer… considering the economy, live shows are very much a luxury nowadays). Second (and most important), there is no way that being fall-down drunk before the show even started can be construed as “just having fun,” miss… you have a serious problem that could endanger your life; please, take your actions into consideration, as you have a twelve year-old son to think about… how would you react if a stranger old enough to be his mother spent the night hitting on him? Plus, to both of you (and anyone else who decides to drink to excess), I don’t want to be on the road, worrying if you’re behind the wheel of one of the vehicles in my general vicinity. I understand that we all need a little release from time to time, a chance to let go and have a good time but, please, remember that there are others who have to put up with you and your drunken shenanigans and… please, don’t be the fatal statistic who crashed and burned on their way home from a killer night of Rock ‘n’ Roll.

AMARANTHE/BUTCHER BABIES/LULLWATER

(November 17, 2015; POP’S, Sauget IL)

Amaranthe Chris Adam Hedman Sorbye with Danielle) (photo credit: DARREN TRACY)
Amaranthe (Chris Adam Hedman Sorbye with Danielle) (photo credit: DARREN TRACY)

From the outset, standing in line and listening to the various comments, it was obvious that the majority of the people at Pop’s on the evening of November 17th were there to see Butcher Babies; I even heard comments and questions like, “I have never heard of this Amaranthe band. Do you know anything about them?” I can kinda understand that… while both acts play metal, they take very different approaches: Amaranthe play a symphonic, well-orchestrated and choreographed style of progressive metal, while Butcher Babies blur the line where punk and metal meet. I am all for diversity and can and have enjoyed bills featuring several different musical styles. Unfortunately, I tend to be part of an ever-shrinking fan base that enjoys listening to a myriad of genres and styles in the course of an evening of live music. So, with that as a backdrop, here’s how this night shook out.

Lullwater (Brett Strickland; Roy Beatty) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Lullwater (Brett Strickland; Roy Beatty) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Opening act Lullwater was a total surprise. The Athens, Georgia quartet play the type of hard rock that I grew up on, though steeped in the early 1990s sound of the Seattle scene; there are touches of Alice In Chains and Nirvana, as well liberal doses of Stone Temple Pilots (yeah, I know they weren’t from Seattle, but… ) and Soundgarden. As Southern boys, there’s plenty of good ol’ Lynyrd Skynyrd and Seven Mary Three style rock and roll. With their new album, REVIVAL, barely a month old, they were determined to make an impression. And, make an impression they certainly did! It didn’t take these guys (vocalist/ guitarist John Strickland, bassist Roy “Ray” Beatty, drummer Joe Wilson and lead guitarist Brett Strickland) long to win over an early crowd hyped to see Butcher Babies.

Lullwater (Joe Wilson; John Strickland) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Lullwater (Joe Wilson; John Strickland) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

The Strickland’s imaginative guitar licks are certainly hard to ignore, particularly on the stinging “Oddline,” from the band’s 2013 self-titled debut, as well as its cousin, “Evenline,” from the new record; the pair’s biting style is further enhanced by Beatty’s bass, which is tuned to a higher register (a trick also used by the Who’s John Entwistle), adding to the buzzsaw tone. Roy’s style also lends itself well to the Southern rock “guitar army” feel on songs like “Broken Wings,” allowing Brett and John to soar on an extended harmony part. Wilson’s playing demands attention, though it is never overbearing or dominating… as has been said many times before, it ain’t always the notes you play, sometimes it’s the spaces between that make a performance special; make no mistake, though, when he hits those notes, it is with power and precision. John’s chameleon-like vocals draw from most of the bands listed above, though mostly, he tends to sound like a tasty three-meat stew of Layne Staley, Scott Weiland and Seven Mary Three’s Jason Ross. From front to back, Lullwater delivered the type of high energy, flat-out rock ‘n’ roll show that you very rarely get a chance to see anymore… I just wish they could have played a longer set.

Butcher Babies (Carla Harvey; Heidi Shepherd) (photo credits DARREN TRACY)
Butcher Babies (Carla Harvey; Heidi Shepherd) (photo credits DARREN TRACY)

Honestly, though I’ve heard quite a bit – both pro (usually from avid fans) and con (usually from music journalists like myself) – about Butcher Babies, this was my first time to experience the live bludgeoning. The band are obviously fans of the Plasmatics and their enigmatic vocalist, Wendy O Williams; I mean, the group’s name is an homage to the Plasmatics’ very first single from way back in 1978. You can also plot the progression of Williams’ band from anarchic punk noisemongers to heavy metal behemoth through Carla Harvey’s near-gutteral screams and Heidi Shepherd’s more melodic, sultry wails. And, even though the ladies’ stage attire was rather tame on this night, most images and videos show they have a proclivity for, at least, a mildly titillating form of exhibitionism. Shepherd and Harvey are twin balls of kinetic energy, in motion virtually from the time they hit the stage for “Monsters Ball” until their final exit during “Magnolia Boulevard.” The three-piece band – guitarist Henry Flury, bassist Jason Klein and drummer Chrissy Warner – are a well-oiled, if predictable, industrial punk metal machine; their sound falls somewhere between the Plasmatics’ NEW HOPE FOR THE WRETCHED punk overload and COUP D’ETAT metal mayhem, with more than a touch of Nu-Metal around the edges.

Butcher Babies (Henry Flury; Chrissy Warner; Jason Klein) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Butcher Babies (Henry Flury; Chrissy Warner; Jason Klein) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

The group highlighted material from their latest release, TAKE IT LIKE A MAN, including their approximation of a power ballad, “Thrown Away.” As well received as tunes like “Monsters Ball,” “Jesus Needs More Babies For His War Machine” and “Gravemaker” were, when the ladies introduced “They’re Coming To Take Me Away, Ha-Haaa!,” a cover of a fifty-year-old pop hit by Napoleon XIV, the crowd erupted. I will say that, even though I was a tad under-impressed, this group must be doing something right to have such a loyal following (a couple of guys – one sorta laid back and cool, the other more of the rabid “Hey… look at me! I know their bus driver! Wooo!” kind of guy – were in from Kansas City for the Tuesday night show). Considering the solid musicianship of Lullwater and the symphonic sheen of Amaranthe, it may have been a case of Butcher Babies being the wrong band at the wrong time; as such, I’m willing to hold further opinions until I can see them in their natural habitat, with more like-minded groups (and, yes, I realize that goes against everything that I said in my opening paragraph but, like everything else in life, there are exceptions to the rule).

Amaranthe (Johann Andreassen and the offending cap)) (photo credit: DARREN TRACY)
Amaranthe (Johann Andreassen and the offending cap)) (photo credit: DARREN TRACY)

I was actually pleasantly surprised when it became apparent that a large number of the folks on the floor remained there for Amaranthe, although there was considerable turnover at the front of the stage. This, of course is where I get all curmudgeonly and tell you how much I dislike being around drunks; as I bid adieu to the laid back guy from KC, a couple of excitable drunks pushed in front of my spot and began documenting EVERY freaking moment of their time at the front of the stage with their phones… all with me trying to shoot pictures either over or through them. I usually let people around me know that I’m working and that I am only allowed to take pictures (I use an actual camera, for which I have obtained a photo pass, as well as permission from the band’s management to use) for the first three songs of any set and they’re usually cool and let me work, trying to avoid getting in my way or obstructing my view; these two were having none of that… I took close to 150 shots of Aramanthe, a hundred of them starring either at least one of the pair’s phones or the gentleman’s cap. If that weren’t bad enough, they compared notes on virtually every image or video they captured in an approximation of the English language that I can only refer to as trailer park rustic (my apologies if I’ve offended any of the millions of fine people who live in trailer parks but, I’m sure you know what I mean), loud enough to annoy more than just this humble cameraman. Okay… with that out of my system and, as I’m sure you didn’t come here just to hear me vent about my job, let’s talk about the real reason you’re here: Amaranthe.

Amaranthe (Henrik Wilhelmsson Englund; Chris Adam Hedman Sorbye; Elize Ryd) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Amaranthe (Henrik Wilhelmsson Englund; Chris Adam Hedman Sorbye; Elize Ryd) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

At first, I couldn’t fathom what the heck was taking place on stage; there were no amplifiers, there were no monitors. It definitely made it easier for the band’s three-pronged vocal attack to maneuver around the stage but… it just looked SO weird! All six band members wore ear monitors, something that is generally only done by the singer; as mentioned above, I am usually at the front of the stage, which means that most of what I hear comes from the stage monitors. Without those monitors, those of us situated up front, between the speakers on either side of the Pop’s stage had kind of a muffled sound, especially on the vocals; I’m sure that to those a little farther back on the floor, the sound was as pristine as the stage looked. This was merely a minor annoyance and, other than louder-than-they-shoulda-been pre-recorded keyboards and having to strain to catch some of the lyrics (especially from Elize Ryd), did not hinder my enjoyment of this highly technical (not to mention high-tech) Swedish outfit. The group was obviously enjoying themselves, as well, mugging for the legions of I-phones and I-pads, posing for the occasional selfie with a fan; at one point, Henrik Wilhelmsson Englund (the “dirty” vocalist) took the phone away from a young man behind me and began videoing himself and the other members of the group before handing it back to the excited fan. These moments are the things that I’ll remember long after Jethro and Minnie have been forgotten.

Amaranthe (Olof Morck; Morten Lowe Sorensen; Johann Andreassen) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Amaranthe (Olof Morck; Morten Lowe Sorensen; Johann Andreassen) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

So, here’s where I’m gonna talk about the audience again, okay? Two of the new faces that joined me at the front of the stage before Amaranthe’s set included a young woman with a face that had me thinking that I should know her from somewhere and her daughter; as it turns out, while we had never actually met, we do frequent some of the same stores and shops in our respective home towns (we live in two small communities, eight miles apart). Anyway, I noticed that, not only was the daughter (eleven year old Danielle) thoroughly enjoying herself, she was singing along to ALL of the songs. Eventually, all three singers (the other clean singer – aside from Elize – is Smash Into Pieces vocalist Chris Adam Hedman Sorbye, who was filling in for co-founder Jake E Lundberg) noticed her, as well, and began coming over to take her hand or make eye contact. After a set that began with “Digital World” and included “Invincible,” “Massive Addictive,” “Afterlife” and “Electroheart,” the band – which also features musicians Olof Morck (guitarist and chief music-writer; Lundberg and Ryd handle most of the lyrics), Johann Andreassen (bassist and encore break MC) and Morten Lowe Sorensen (drums) – kicked into their theme-song, “Amaranthe.” After singing a verse and a chorus, Elize came over to Danielle and asked her if she knew the song; Danielle answered in the affirmative and sang the next verse into Ryd’s microphone. After a final song, “Call Out My Name,” the group left the stage.

Amaranthe (Olof Morck; Chris Adam Hedman Sorbye with Danielle; Elize Ryd) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Amaranthe (Olof Morck; Chris Adam Hedman Sorbye with Danielle; Elize Ryd) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

But, of course, Amaranthe weren’t finished yet. After a brief break, Andreassen was back to pump up the crowd (allowing the others to towel off – it was HOT in the venue and even hotter under the stage lights – and for Elize to affect a costume change). The rest of the band joined Johann, charging into “The Nexus,” the title track from their second album. The night ended, three songs later, with Englund asking Danielle, “If I were to say, ‘Drop Dead,’ what would you say?” Without hesitation, she replied, “Cynical” and the band tore into the very danceable, heavy pop of “Drop Dead Cynical.” Before leaving the stage, the three vocalists and Olof took time to greet, not only Danielle, but just about everybody in the first couple of rows. Amaranthe is a band that gets it; they understand that without fans like Danielle and her mother (and even the overbearing couple in front of me), they wouldn’t be able to do what they love to do. I enjoyed the set more than I thought I would; I just hope that before I see them again, they figure out that sound system.

COAL CHAMBER/FEAR FACTORY/JASTA/SAINT RIDLEY/MADLIFE

(July 31, 2015; POP’S NIGHTCLUB, Sauget IL)

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I don’t get out to Pop’s as much as I used to; it used to be THE place for the heaviest of metal and extreme acts but, now, with places like the Firebird, Fubar and Ready Room stepping up their game across the river, a good number of the smaller shows are booking those places. THIS was not a small show; a reconstituted Coal Chamber were touring behind the release of their excellent RIVALS album, Fear Factory’s new record GENEXUS was due for release the following week and, well… I mean, Jamey Jasta… am I right?

Madlife (Isaiah Stuart; Angry Phill) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Madlife (Isaiah Stuart; Angry Phill) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Los Angeles based four-piece Madlife are fifteen year veterans of the metal wars, with three EPs and one full-length album to their credit. The group’s live sound is not unlike that of the early industrial noises of old friends, Godhead. Founding members Angry Phill (vocals) and Isaiah Stuart (guitar) are joined by Kyle Cunningham on drums and new guy Topher Graves on bass, skirting the boundaries between industrial, metal and hard rock with a uniquely twisted LA pop sensibility. The concept and the blurred lines work well on a stacked tour like this one, particularly on tunes like “To Live and Die In Hollywood.” The band’s stage look is kinda nu-metal chic, with Phill’s modified flak jacket and coal miner-like facial smudges, evoking memories of Rammstein. Pop’s crowds are notoriously noncommittal (if not downright nasty) to opening acts, especially on high-profile tours like Coal Chamber’s latest jaunt but, if the early birds didn’t necessarily welcome the group with wide open arms, a good majority seemed to accept and appreciate what they were offering. With a new album due out soon, Madlife is a band to keep your eye on.

Saint Ridley (Paul Ridley) (photo credit: DARREN TRACY)
Saint Ridley (Paul Ridley) (photo credit: DARREN TRACY)

Saint Ridley – the band led by (and the alter ego of) vocalist Paul Ridley – hail from Detroit, the home of bad-ass rockers since the dawn of time. Ridley may just be the baddest of all; having died twice on the table while undergoing an invasive weight loss surgery called a duodenal switch, he was onstage at Michigan’s Dirt Fest two days later (against doctor’s orders)! The man is either crazy or totally dedicated to his music and his fans. The violent din rising from the stage on this night gave credence to both assumptions. Ridley’s vocals roared over the down-tuned rumble of the well-oiled machinery of guitarists Phil “Alabama” Durham and David “Texas” Flynn, bassist Nathan Garcia and drummer Richard Schlager. With a sound that was equal parts Pantera, Filter, Korn and just a bit of MC5 Motor City mayhem (particularly evident on “Burn”), the group kept it tight and heavy, offering up doses of Ridley’s brutal introspections, both new and from 2014’s FOOL OR A KING release. Paul mentioned a new album will be heading our way soon… I, for one, can’t wait!

Jasta (Jamey Jasta; Pat Seymour) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Jasta (Jamey Jasta; Pat Seymour) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

As the culture and face of metal began to shift in the shadows of a new millennium, MTV began shifting the focus of their HEADBANGER’S BALL to the harder, more extreme types of metal and hardcore that were then gaining momentum; as part of that refocusing, Hatebreed songwriter and vocalist Jamey Jasta was tapped as the new host of the program. The national exposure catapulted Jamey (though, unfortunately, not the band) to new heights of popularity. While some claim that the experience softened Jasta and his musical ventures, it did nothing of the sort, as he continues to explore the darkest recesses of the metalcore genre that he helped create. His solo band, Jasta, hit the Pop’s stage raging and barely slowed enough to suck oxygen into their lungs. The band was a super-group of sorts, with Jasta utilizing members of the sludgy Kingdom of Sorrow – bassist Chris Beaudette and former guitarist Steve Gibb (who has also spent time with both Crowbar and Black Label Society) – as well Eyes of the Dead guitarist Pat Seymour and drummer Joey DiBiase, on loan from the band Oath.

Jasta (Jamey Jasta; Chris Beaudette) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Jasta (Jamey Jasta; Chris Beaudette) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Most of the material played was from the self-titled album, JASTA, including set opener, “Walk That Path Alone.” The grinding brutality of the onslaught of “Screams From the Sanctuary” and “Enslaved, Dead or Depraved” were well received, as were a cover of Running Wild’s “Soldiers of Hell” and “Buried In Black,” a tune from Kingdom of Sorrow’s first album. The high point of the set was Hatebreed’s call-to-arms, “I Will Be Heard,” with Jamey telling the minions that he wanted to see “an old-fashioned circle pit.” He eventually gave up when it was obvious that no one knew what a circle pit was and, instead, began shoving and swinging at everyone indiscriminately. You see, guys… that’s why we can’t have nice things! This band was every bit as driven and impassioned as Hatebreed and, hopefully, we haven’t seen the last of Jasta.

Fear Factory (Dino Cazares) (photo credit: DARREN TRACY)
Fear Factory (Dino Cazares) (photo credit: DARREN TRACY)

As a newly reconstructed (former Static X and Soulfly bassist Tony Campos is now in the fold) and revitalized Fear Factory took the stage, their mission statement was obvious: Crush all contenders, demolish all pretenders. Founding members, vocalist Burton C Bell and guitarist Dino Cazares, ruled the stage and commanded the attention of even the most distracted members of the crowd from the outset. With Campos and newish drummer Mike Heller laying down a suffocating bottom end, the band tore through a couple of tunes from the 1998 breakthrough album, OBSOLETE; “Shock” was followed by fan favorite “Edgecrusher,” with Bell’s feral growl cementing his place as one of the best in the business. As the group worked their way through a ten song set that included classics like “Martyr” and “Damaged,” the repetitive grooves of Fear Factory’s industrial roots were on ample display. Those roots came to bear most explicitly on the new GENEXUS songs, “Soul Hacker” and “Dielectric,” as well as set closers, “Demanufacture” and “Replica,” both from the DEMANUFACTURE album.

Fear Factory (Burton C Bell) (photo credit: DARREN TRACY)
Fear Factory (Burton C Bell) (photo credit: DARREN TRACY)

Earlier live versions of the band had featured a keyboard player; though Dino, Tony and Mike are more than capable of replicating most of those parts, “Dielectric” was the only number that prominently featured a prerecorded keyboard part. Heller’s drums gave the band an overall heavier sound, one that fits much better with Burt’s aggressive vocal delivery, the doom-laden lyrics and Cazares’ inventive guitar parts. Dino’s playing mixed nu-metal down-tuned riffing, metallic sheets of industrial sonics and straight forward blasts of edgy rock runs that never felt derivative or out of place. There was certainly plenty of furious pit action throughout their set, even if much of the audience were riveted to their spots, mesmerized by the performance. This is a completely new Fear Factory, a band that is set to reclaim its place at the top of the industrial heap with heavier guitars and Bell’s take-no-prisoners approach.

Coal Chamber (Dez Fafara) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Coal Chamber (Dez Fafara) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

After far too long away, the mighty Coal Chamber have returned! This tour, hot on the heels of their first record in fifteen years, when initially announced, had me hoping for a Saint Louis stop. Needless to say, I was absolutely stoked when I found out that they would be playing Pop’s. Vocalist Dez Fafara, likewise, was stoked for the show: “When I saw this show on the schedule, I thought, ‘Friday night? At Pop’s? That sounds like a party! Fuck, yeah! Let’s do this!’” The high-tech light show would have buried a lesser band but, Coal Chamber is NOT a lesser band. Fafara, guitarist Meegs Rascon, drummer Mikey Cox and long-time touring bassist (the new RIVALS is her first studio work with the band), Nadja Peulen, grabbed the crowd by their collective throats, screaming “Listen to this!,” with a pair of classics from their first album, “Loco” and “Big Truck.” It was off to the races (or, perhaps, the demolition derby would be more apt) from that point.

Coal Chamber (Meegs Rascon) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Coal Chamber (Meegs Rascon) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Meegs has toned down his glacial stares and emotionless facial expressions and jerky, robotic movements but, he is still one of the premier guitarists in the extreme metal game. That statement was borne out from the opening notes of “Loco” through to the final crescendo of “Sway,” but was particularly evident on the first single from RIVALS, “IOU Nothing,” as well as the title track from that album. The familiar sight of Nadja’s red mane flying, her constant motion keeping time, hasn’t changed; nor has her bass playing skills diminished… in fact, she has upped her game, keeping pace with the other members of the band. I was stricken from the outset by how forceful and proficient Mikey has become, to the extent that he was the focal point – at least, in my eyes – of the performance, driving the other three to new heights of musical heaviness. As much as Dez and Meegs may be the guiding lights of Coal Chamber, they simply would not sound anywhere as vicious without Mikey’s powerhouse drumming.

Coal Chamber (Mikey Cox) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Coal Chamber (Mikey Cox) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

The set featured songs from the group’s four albums, though it did seem to be stacked with songs from the first record and their 2002 swansong, DARK DAYS. While it is fairly common for an artist to “sprinkle” in a few tunes from a new release (including “Another Nail In the Coffin,” there were three), I was rather surprised that they only played one track from their break-out record, CHAMBER MUSIC. Maybe Dez and the others wanted to distance themselves from the slicker, more radio-friendly sound of that album, relying more on the gritty vibe of the other three but, I gotta tell ya, I would have loved hearing their cover of Peter Gabriel’s “Shock the Monkey” in a live setting. I suppose if I had to choose only one tune from CHAMBER MUSIC to hear live, it probably wouldn’t be “No Home” but, more likely the more Goth-sounding, atmospheric “Burgundy” or the rhythmically challenging “Entwined.” But, after thirteen years, I’ll takes what I can gets.

Coal Chamber (Nadja Peulen) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)
Coal Chamber (Nadja Peulen) (photo credits: DARREN TRACY)

Besides the obvious crowd favorites, like “Big Truck” and “Fiend,” other highlights included “Sway,” “Dark Days” and “Rivals.” It should be noted that, aside from Fafara’s work with DevilDriver, the other members of Coal Chamber were pretty quiet until the unofficial reunion a few years back, with a handful of shows, leading to a full-blown reunion, with preparations for and recording of RIVALS. I’m not sure how long they rehearsed for this run, but it seems as though they’ve never been away. If there were any signs of stage-rust, I sure didn’t catch them. Along with Jamey Jasta’s Hatebreed and Fear Factory, these are the bands that I cut my journalistic teeth on; it’s nice to relive the past a bit, as well as look to the future with some old friends.

FATHER MURPHY: PAIN IS ON OUR SIDE NOW

(AAGOO RECORDS EP; 2014)

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I’ve always said that if something doesn’t sound just like something else I’ve heard, I will listen to it extra attentively. I suppose that’s one of my guiding MOs as a music writer. This peculiar Italian outfit, Father Murphy, sounds like almost NOTHING else. So I gave them an especially close listen and was rather stunned by what I heard. It’s some kind of nightmarish cinematic new-ambient drone/squonk punctuated by purposeful chants and dialogue, pounding percussion and, surprisingly, space to reflect. A couple of sentences in the press material provided for this four-song EP provided a compelling way in; the music is described as “the sound of the Catholic sense of guilt, a downward spiral aiming at the bottom of the hollow and then digging even deeper.” So, a party record, then? Not hardly, unless you want to clear the party quickly and be left only with the open-minded, contemplative types you prefer hanging out with anyway. This is the kind of music you experience when you’re in a certain weird mood, and want to literally be pulled out of your reality and maybe plunged into the deepest well of contradictory, destructive human behavior, to hear what the soundtrack to such might be.

Father Murphy (photo credit: ELENA TONIOLO)
Father Murphy (photo credit: ELENA TONIOLO)

On “Let the Wrong Rise With You,” it means you get a dark, ominous, machine-like drone which is soon hijacked by abrasive industrial percussion that could be the soundtrack to a terrorist group of unknown origin suddenly marching into a village (I couldn’t help thinking of Boko Haram, actually, who have been so much in the news lately). This shifts into a mid section of distorted horns or the like with a sinister drone underneath, and then a third section of plainly heard single keyboard tones that are nearly melodic in nature, with a bit of percussion here and there. Whatever the Reverend Freddie Murphy and Chiara Lee (the two singer/multi-instrumentalists responsible for all this) are up to here, it certainly has few reference points. Apparently, Julian Cope and Deerhoof are fans; the latter’s Greg Saunier produced the EP. And, Simon Reynolds has helpfully dubbed this “Italian occult psychedelia.” Certainly you’ll think of occulty things when listening to “They Will All Fail You,” which begins with the sound of glass shattering and soon treats you to the sound of various disturbed voices yelling, one of which sounds like “Trial, trial, trial,” over and over, which may indeed be what some listeners go through when subjected to this. A pounding sound, a male voice yelling a word that sounds like “Horror” repeatedly, and a dark ambient drone will make you think you’re in a very bad place, indeed – the kind of thing that happens when you watch a foreign horror movie. Children may have been harmed in the making of this music, or perhaps this is music ABOUT children being harmed… there’s that Catholic guilt thing again, I suppose. “Despite All the Grief” managed to surprise me even in the context of what preceded it, due to what is a relatively quiet low-frequency rumble/drone that is only interrupted by maybe 28 seconds of industrial-strength clanging, reminiscent of the music in the first Bartertown scenes in MAD MAX: BEYOND THUNDERDOME. There is something utterly willful about the way these tracks are arranged and performed; a potent aesthetic is at work. And, listening to samples of previous work by this group, such as 2012’s ANYWAY, YOUR CHILDREN WILL DENY IT, online only reveals that something quite original and determinedly provocative is happening here.

You’ve heard the phrase “uneasy listening?” This is THAT. There is nothing cheery or comforting about Father Murphy, but lordy, if you have a taste for dark, immersive, non personality-based cine-music, this may be something to lose yourself in. Best recommended if you’re a LAPSED Catholic or “other” in the religious column, though. If you’re still going to mass and taking communion, well, you’re liable to head straight for confession after hearing this stuff.