Tag Archives: Under The Radar

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The Maras

So the saying goes that there’s supposed to be no one you can rely on more in this world than your family. Some actually find resentment for their own family enough, pouring venom into the statement that you can’t choose your family, twisting the most important support network to you as a person, into nothing but bitter disdain. It must therefore be a fascinating statistic for the amount of families that are able to completely co-exist and co-operate without a hitch amongst one another. Music definitely is an adhesive that bonds people and their interests together, and family is no exception to this rule. After all, it works for King of Leon and they’re all cousins. It did work for the siblings of The Knife, before by their own admission, the creation of music and performing stopped being fun. It does however currently work for brothers Matt and Eric Mara whom after toiling and honing their floorfilling, pop-infected grunge bursts for five years, are finally releasing their works into the wider waking world. The unsuspectingly titled The Maras Go To The Mall! is their first long-player after a steady release of EPs earlier this year, squeezing the trigger hard for a myriad of aggressively charged bullets to the skull of modern rock. While you can claim that a lot of The Maras’ output revels in the sounds of the past, the breadth of those sounds and pure passion for music of decades gone has rejuvenated that spirit and goes as far to even sound brand new again, testament to their brilliance for writing hooks. Certainly from day one of hearing Ray’s Gun, that bass melody has been nothing but persistent in worming into my ear drums and burrowing deep into the pools of wax that lay within. But such is their talent that in just under two and a half minutes, they can pull off a near-perfect grunge-pit punch-up. Think the Pixies in a disco mood and you’re about there. Sound production has weaponised the drum beats so it carries across as a steady stream of bludgeoning projectiles, while the bassline calmly injects itself into your aural channel. Reminiscent of its era, monotone vocals seeped in reverb soon join the fray, still keeping a composed demeanour to the track. Vocals then take an anguished turn for the chorus and its contagious repetition, again keeping the instrumentation in a slightly numbed state, leaving just enough room to tease some tension for good measure. The mesmerising melody picks back up to start the cycle once more, coming back to that outrageously infectious chorus hook before jolting synth stabs take over and the bass slows the pace to a crawl and concludes. This is just one aspect of The Maras’ songwriting capabilities. Songs such as Church of Mad and Red Hair have far more fleshed out synth elements, and Texas Blood Thirst takes their angst to a far higher level. Ray’s Gun balances these both with just simplicity in structure and a killer series of hooks, and really that’s what The Maras excel at, writing bite-size tracks that have absorbed everything good from their respective 80’s record collections and translating it into a formula that hits your memory as hard as it does your eardrums. A true treasure awaiting discovery. Maybe that’s what the real value of family is..

The Maras Go The Mall!, single Muddy Susan and EP Welcome To Wax Beach are all available from their Bandcamp page for a very reasonable fee. Physical copies of The Maras Go The Mall were recently made available too on Bandcamp, so I’d recommend investing in a copy of that. The album is a real sleeper hit waiting to happen, that’s for damn sure.

Write them a love note of some description:

https://www.facebook.com/Themarasbrothers/?ref=hl
https://twitter.com/TheMarasBand

I am also welcoming of love notes too, but that’s entirely your choice:

https://www.facebook.com/IAmTheSoundshark/
https://twitter.com/The_Soundshark

 

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Fawnchopper

The spirit of independence is a fickle concept, especially if we’re talking in the music industry or from the perspective of a music discovery blog. The commonplace definition we use for an independent band is a band trying to make a living from the music they create, without major financial backing from a record company or label. Some bands cut steps further than this by producing, mixing and mastering their own content or manufacturing and distributing the albums themselves, sometimes often to reduce the cost or because they have the necessary skills to do it themselves. You could therefore claim that these extra steps could in fact symbolise a greater level of independence, ruling out an extra set of middle men to pay in order to spread their music as far and wide as possible. This philosophy could be stretched into its own debate, but I’m going to keep it at this level of simplicity of the purpose of the article. You see, I share the same level of independence with Canada’s Fawnchopper. I settle on working for myself, having found these guys through my own means, albeit through the medium of Bandcamp. Where Fawnchopper are technically signed to independent imprint Filth Regime Records, in reality, they are essentially on their own to preach the progressive annihilation that their debut album Kind Of Red imbues. Though for dividing such a task between just three individuals, the sheer sonic force from these gentlemen creates an ungodly amount of noise in the best way imaginable. Picture Mastodon and Godflesh starting a riot in the middle of an abandoned factory, nestled in a swampy heartland and you’re pretty close metaphorically. Lead single Kill This Melody is the perfect exposé for this vision, sludgy ripples quickly formulating from heavily distorted guitar and relentless skin bashing at the inset. Not initially dangerous, but you get a glimpse of depravity from a female moan shortly afterwards, right before the hammer comes down on proceedings. A pair of prominent barks narrate a tale of unrequited longing and torment in the eyes of an unseen protagonist, all the while guitar and bass bleeding their own fuzz-sodden dialogue into the volatile mixture. Drums are beaten hard enough to induce blunt force trauma and there’s a sinister-sounding ambient undertow present throughout this primal carnage that pumps far more darkness into the heart of the music. Of which the overdrive kicks in around the two-minute mark, switching to instrumental, pure mechanised brutality, a realm beyond unsettling to say the least and it only gathers strength the further the track progresses. A form of order is briefly restored in the refrain of ‘Kill this melody’ but it increasingly becomes more hostile and violent before exponential static build-up kills the song dead in its tracks, perhaps a somewhat ironic sentiment. With a name like Fawnchopper, you don’t come expecting a picnic in the woods. This is an industrial-strength, sludge nightmare, but if you can sift through the jet-black chasm presented before you, you are rewarded with one hell of a listening experience. Maybe their independence wasn’t so much of a bad thing, especially when you have the freedom to create an admittedly testing album for the faint-hearted, but an album that nonetheless sheds light on a highly skilled, but defiantly darker level of songwriting, among the best released this year.

To truly appreciate this for yourselves, Fawnchopper not only have Kind Of Red in full on their Bandcamp page, but are giving it to you for absolutely nothing, which I implore you to accept with open arms. If you are the giving kind though, you can also pay for a digital download from most respected music retailers, which I would also highly recommend. And if you enjoyed this melody, then there’s a video to accompany it, which is not entirely safe for work.

Go say things to them:

https://www.facebook.com/fawnchopperband/?fref=ts

And if you would really like to, you can go say things to me too, I won’t be mad if you don’t:

https://www.facebook.com/IAmTheSoundshark/?fref=ts
https://twitter.com/The_Soundshark

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Mechanical Vampires

I’m semi-proud of this post, as I feel like I’m near the very front of the line for a group on the cusp of their emergence into the wider world of underground music. This is about as new and exciting as I have possibly ever gotten to a write-up of a group I have had next to zero interaction with previously, bar a chance encounter on Instagram. Like my namesake suggests, I do my homework and have laid in wait ever since. Seriously, the name isn’t just for show ladies and gents. It’s a lifestyle. If you interact with me over social media, even if you work on a follow-for-follow mentality, I do pay attention. Anyway, I digress. New Jersey’s Mechanical Vampires, after a promising ambient-industrial etched teaser known only as The Lynchpin and what seems like months of masterminding since early this year, finally unveiled their first full length song in Gemini and I sit here only 24 hours or so later, telling you why you should be excited by this enthralling new duo in the doorway of electro-industrial. If the minute of freezing cold keys against harsh distortion and air-tight percussion in The Lynchpin didn’t whet your appetite, then Gemini is by far the entrée you should be sinking your teeth into, literally. Obviously it fleshes out the icy atmosphere to a greater dimension, being nearly three minutes longer than The Lynchpin, but there’s a contagious pop undertone that partners so well with the thundering beats and muted abrasion from the guitar too. Sawtooth synth stabs enter like footsteps through that aforementioned doorway before bursting into life from dense percussion, echoing strong enough to hit straight through you, soft arpeggios to give some frostbite to the ambience and bass that rumbles the pit of your stomach. A male voice of reassurance cuts through the soundscape, but suits this colder, darker electronic manifestation perfectly, truly doing the scale of this track justice as gigantic as it becomes. There’s something about his spoken demeanour that is as soothing as it is inspiring, bringing a mesmerising human warmth to a mostly frozen atmosphere. And when it comes to that chorus, it glows brightly enough to bask in. Adding that vocal hook into the mix also, is just one more reason for Gemini to seep deep into your skin. The effect only becomes greater with each listen until it reaches maximum infatuation point. You could make a lazy comparison and claim that Mechanical Vampires are a more industrial-sounding PVRIS, but whilst PVRIS resemble an electronic-tainted Paramore, Mechanical Vampires already breach atmospheric and emotional depths far greater than they realise on the strength on a single song. Gemini is a stunning composition, a beautifully produced electronic master stroke that delicately reaches beyond the barriers of both industrial and pop music and seduces any onlookers with its alluring gaze. When is more on the way?

Despite being developed over the course of the year, Mechanical Vampires is still a project in its infancy, so they need all the support they can get. Gemini can be bought from CDBaby for a hardly change bothering sum, or they are generously giving it away for free from here at the exchange of sharing the song, which you should definitely be doing anyway.

Go send some love in their direction:

https://www.facebook.com/mechanicalvampires?fref=ts
https://twitter.com/MechVamps

And if you are feeling especially generous, why not consider sending some love in my direction too? You don’t have to, entirely optional:

https://www.facebook.com/IAmTheSoundshark
https://twitter.com/The_Soundshark

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Mad Penguins

OK gang, time for a history-cum-geography lesson. Stoner rock. Where in the world do you reckon it originated in? I think can hear you saying America there. Correct. In the Palm Desert of California, DIY musicians and party goers hauled generators and held all-night jam sessions until the dawn, or the authorities turned up. Now, where do you reckon the scene is best right now? Europe? Yes, arguably. Where is surprisingly good right now? It may take you a while on this one, but the answer is actually Italy. I don’t exactly know what it is, or where it’s coming from, but Italy houses an astonishing underground array of psyche, blues, sludge and stoner bands that few seem to be taking notice of, at least at the moment. But their scene is absolutely thriving right now. One last unintentionally patronising question: Where do penguins live? Somewhere cold right? Yes, and no. At least if your country’s name is Ecuador anyway. But according to a Brescia three-piece, some of the angriest or craziest of this particular diving bird species like to holiday to Europe and hone their skills as a killer rock outfit, that marries punk bravado and stoner swagger with the ceremony held in a grunge mud pool. The latter become increasingly more apparent with their whack at Nirvana’s Scentless Apprentice on brand new release Radamanthys, if course guitars drowning in enough slurry to rival the Thames Estuary and heavy enough to tenderise a kitten in a matter of seconds wasn’t an indicator. Make no mistake, their music has a ferocity about it that does live up to their namesake, a real hard strike to the solar plexus of mediocrity in every possible way. One of the hardest hitters is Grindmind, detonating in your face immediately, leaving the squeals and squawks of guitar and the battering of skins to lead you into the beast’s domain, where fiery, crunching riffs and a maddening call of torment maul even the most cautious of souls. The song title is spot on, as the soundscape scrapes away at listening capacity you have, there’s almost the theatrics of the vocalist’s sanity in decline, his delivery certainly become more erratic towards the song’s climax. Perhaps a little like a certain frontman from Seattle we know and loved. You can certainly feel the vitriol spill from every syllable uttered, and only heightens the intensity on display here. This history and geography lesson didn’t intend to delve into the depths of musical darkness, but boy do Mad Penguins deliver that. For the unsuspecting, this three-piece deliver an occasionally uncomfortably heavy rock and roll tour de force, add in the lunacy of the vocals and the brazen attempts to punt your teeth down your throat and you have a legitimately dangerous musical trio, that people should get excited about.

Radamanthys only came out last week, but with 2013’s El Capretto, 2010’s When Tomorrow Hits and 2008’s When Difference Hits, all of these albums and tracks can be bought from their Bandcamp page. Depending on where you look, you can also find their albums at most respectable music retailers too.

Now I said these penguins were nasty, but all penguins like cuddles, and you can do so here:

https://www.facebook.com/Mad-Penguins-34058088538/

Could I too also have a cuddle, a like follow or subscribe-shaped cuddle? You don’t have to really though:

https://www.facebook.com/IAmTheSoundshark
https://twitter.com/The_Soundshark

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bIg toBacCo CoMpaNY – D.B.

If this name looks familiar to you already, then that may be because I have written about these fine gentlemen recently in an article published generally covering what they do and what you can expect from them. That said, my musings on them sounding like a movie monster orgy, with an attitude reflective of a mischievous schoolchild may have to take a slight run back. Things are getting a little serious. Not too serious, but serious enough to warrant a statement of intent. Their debut album IS in existence, currently being pieced together as we speak and this is the second song to be taken from it, kindly extended to me as a form of informal partnership between myself and the band. They make the music, I write about it essentially. But whilst intentions are more serious, that’s not the only thing that sounds more serious here. D.B., abbreviated for Dick But showcases a more melodic side of the band we’ve yet to hear from what material of theirs floats around the internet. The beginning starts out kind of recalling the mellower, Middle Eastern-infused System Of A Down moments, the first guitar initially igniting a ominous spark, right before the harmony between the two guitars and chugging of bass almost ushers a sombre shadow over proceedings. The sound is far more emotionally attentive, but you can feel that it can only build-up to something bigger. A guitar whispers ‘Time’s up,’ with its last breath and the heavy artillery explodes in your eardrums. Piercing screams and some incredibly brutal growls fight for vocal control while what can only be described as the musical equivalent of being crushed into dust by the pyramids of Egypt bears down on what remains of your nerves. It’s savage, but utterly enjoyable. Then an impressive clean third voice emerges from the ruins, impressive so for writhing free from the previous throat torture, as if in prayer for mercy from the onslaught. Obviously denied. The quiet-loud dynamic is vicious, going from concentrated barbaric bursts of metal, to slightly more touching, contemplative melodies with a hint of deviance at its heart. The sum of both parts makes for a terrific ride nonetheless. Playing out with those melodies does make for a very satisfying conclusion too, ending an eventful four minutes. This band continues to impress me I must say, a maturation of the music previous to their release perhaps, but without compromising on their experimental piledriver of a metal monster. A new song release every month looks to be a calendar date worth saving right now.

Album releases don’t get by without money unfortunately, so these gentlemen need your love and support to make its inception as big as it possibly can be by backing their Kickstarter campaign. In return, you’ll get access to all the songs as soon as they’re available, and you can be credited on the album as making it happen cap’n. That certainly would give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside. So what are you waiting for?

If you haven’t already, go tell them if I’m right or not:

https://www.facebook.com/bIgtoBacCocoMpaNY?fref=ts

And if you would like to tell me if I’m right or not, or whatever:

https://www.facebook.com/IAmTheSoundshark
https://twitter.com/The_Soundshark

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Universal Theory

I don’t really remember to what sort of length I’ve discussed goth on this blog before. I know the extent of which I have discussed subculture, but not actually empathising or focusing on one particular culture. Anyway, I’m already heading for a tangent here, but if you have any cultural knowledge of the 1980’s, you’ll understand the significance of the goth movement from the latter half of the decade, seeping into the early 1990’s. It still exists in society very much today, but in more of a translucent, subdued kinda way I feel. Their echoes do resonate through some modern artists nowadays, but so few and far between occurrences, that to me the scene appears to lurk in a tomb of its own gloominess, so far underground you’d need to ask Shell to borrow a drill to start digging with. In my eyes though, goth rock encountered an identity crisis because media mouthpieces started flinging labels at bands like Type O Negative, whose noticeable gloomy aesthetic and occasional playing at the pace of barely breathing gained far more publicity, than their recognition of having more musically in common with Black Sabbath or The Beatles. Those seeds were very much sown and a new translation of the phrase was born. So we stand here with Universal Theory, a Spanish duo whose music flows with a similar lifeblood that once filled Type O Negative, but are very much their own artefact of intrigue. Between just two of them, to construct a record with an eruption and outpouring of atmosphere and sombre yet infatuating tones is outright astonishing. Guitars billow with distortion, heavy enough to cause bleeding from the ears, with a vintage monotone but strangely appealing male set of vocals and a luscious siren’s sigh of female vocals to accompany it. Together they are backed by an army of trance-inducing synthesisers, drums purpose built to direct chaos or compassion and a stunning hand-stitched orchestral tapestry that enhances their gothic overtones far beyond just an icy chill in the air. While tracks like Before Sunrise showcase their vicious streak, the second part of Romance demonstrates a deeper emotional personality in their music. Almost waltzing with a saddened violinist through a downpour to begin with, guitars carve their mark into the mix quickly but settle in as an additional atmospheric marker wonderfully, that extra texture serving the melancholy very well. There is an instance of a riff interjecting every so often that threatens to topple the beautiful score in progress, instead serving as an impactful footnote in the otherwise well-realised atmosphere. The last minute or so of the song culminates in the escalation of this emotion, into an intense but moving whirlwind of strings moistening your eyes while drums cause calamity at the final stretch, and vocals calmly bring the proceedings to a halt. This is just one highlight of a terrifically formulated project. The Most Attractive Force couldn’t be more correct of an album name if they’d had it tattooed on their retinas. It sounds like a prog rock burial if one came across, but is without a doubt, one of the most beautifully involving, emotively stirring albums to emerge from the nether this year. Goth called, they say they’re doing pretty well. That should be the universal theory.

Both The Most Attractive Force and their earlier Mystery Timeline can be bought from Metal Hell Records’ Bandcamp page, whereas Mystery Timeline can be bought in a physical or digital capacity from most respectable music retailers. They also have a website you should be looking at. Just saying.

Tell them you like them:

https://www.facebook.com/universaltheory?fref=ts

And if you would like to, you can tell me you like me too, via my social media channels also:

https://www.facebook.com/IAmTheSoundshark
https://twitter.com/The_Soundshark

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The No-Nation Orchestra

It’s always exciting for me to gets my hands on something different instead of alternating between rock and electronic the entire time, as much as I do love writing about them both. I haven’t really gotten stuck in with more exotic flavours and soundscapes since starting the blog and that’s down to me settling into a nest of complacent comfort, and not spreading my musical wings as far as I could. Don’t get me wrong, I adore jazz and world music. I had the express pleasure of DJing an evening of jazz once. A local festival to me happens to be called Rhythms of The World and both the times I’ve been in attendance have been tremendous fun. Just my expeditions and forays into the gargantuan territory of world music have been limited and I’d be unsure how and where to start. I’ve given some exposure to culturally diverse musicians beforehand, Orange Tulip Conspiracy, International Diamond Thieves, Golem! and Hallouminati to name a few but that area has been lacking in company. So hopefully this collective I’m about to have the pleasure of reviewing will be the start of a more frequent genre of music and the start of that aforementioned expedition. For today, we focus upon The No-Nation Orchestra, an experiment put together by many Salt Lake City, Utah-based musicians, the union of which has crafted two EPs thus far of Latin-spiked, afrobeat-infused progressive jazz rhythms. As you’d expect, the combination of these elements make for an intoxicating feel-good wave of boisterous brass, intricate percussion, occasionally jerky yet funky guitar string swiping, all while adding a set of soulful vocal enchantments, with a surprisingly deep moral compass to them. The Coil EP released in November last year, houses the almost ironically sunshine-soaked conga of Past Shadows, a warning served to the hardships of war expressed from a menagerie of percussion driving funk-based jazz. What I enjoy most is the baton passing between each instrument section, switching from the glowing guitar notes and bass groove, to the decidedly shrill male and warming female harmonies, to the empathic brass greeting, the wall of beats and texture behind it maintaining that exotic zest that these musicians clearly are thriving upon. While there are words to ponder and reflect over, Past Shadows, with the help of an irrepressible Latin charm, lives its four and a half minute running time as one of the most sophisticated party compositions I’ve encountered in some time. Even nearing its climax, it doesn’t lose its composure, keeping the tempo steady but mellowing in tone ever so slightly enough to finish on a satisfying high. The collective of The No-Nation Orchestra is a collaboration, but there’s a chemistry here that defies meeting every year or so, almost woven by the threads of fate themselves. Suave but flamboyant in their mannerisms, their recordings invite political delegates from all over the world for a poolside barbecue and leaves all the party accessories out. Mature in intention and execution, but an utter delight of an experience to become part of.

The Coil EP and the More More More EP from 2011 are both available from the group’s Bandcamp page in digital or vinyl quality, both for a very reasonable sum. More More More can also be bought from most respectable music retailers in digital format. Go buy their music because it really is joyous listening.

Go show them some support because their social media numbers make me sad:

https://www.facebook.com/nonationorchestra?fref=ts

And if you would like to support me to make me less sad too, then be my guest:

https://www.facebook.com/IAmTheSoundshark
https://twitter.com/The_Soundshark

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bIg toBacCo CoMpaNY

There’s an unwritten rule you’re told from a young age but seldom expected to abide by. After all, free will is a marvellous gift and is certifiably one of the things that defines us as living organisms. Never judge a book by its cover. Perhaps a little too metaphorical for the context of this website, but it certainly taught me a lesson. A trend that seems to have emerged, especially within the indie community, is to take an average, everyday phrase and build a superb band identity around it. Fat White Family or The Neighbourhood for example, being perhaps two well-known and excellent cases for this observation. So hopefully I can be forgiven for assuming that on first glance, this could have been another to add to this trend. I honestly went in, expecting to hear a killer indie band. Boy was I surprised. Big Tobacco Company, though stylised as bIg toBacCo CoMpaNY, as opposed to being another of indie’s next big things, are actually an eccentric, movie monster mash-up of a metal band, similar in the vein of System Of A Down. And much like the young rapscallions that System Of A Down once were, tongues seem to not so much be firmly in cheek as boring a hole for freedom, if their social media is anything to go by. Their band logo is a baby rocking heavy duty headphones with a cigar taped to one ear, and the font looks drawn in Paint and coloured with stock textures from Word ’98 for christ sakes. But that’s where the joke begins to end. Amusing as their own antics are, there’s a pack of ferocious wolves that lay beneath the surface, luring you into falling for timidity only to have outstretched hands torn apart in a lust for bloodshed. They can be an unfathomably heavy experience to say the least, occasionally convulsing through their mood swings at times, but all while distancing themselves from the towering landfill of metal and deathcore wannabes. Doom Shroom, a slice taken from their perceived to be forthcoming debut album, demonstrates a little bit of the asylum mentality that their music takes on. Opening with almost nonchalant bass notes, little time is wasted in bursting out with guitars pulverising like stone fists from the gods, relentless drums hounding on your eardrums and vocals that switch from screams that could wither children in an instant, to gruelling, guttural growls you can feel at the pit of your own stomach, to understated clean sections which can only be described as the musical ramblings of a madman, complete with a melody you won’t forget in a hurry. But in a good way, it certainly has a Corey Taylor-kinda vibe to it. The addition of the choir puppeteered by keys halfway and at the end, also adds a nice extra atmospheric dimension instead of announcing a straight-up warpath. Doom Shroom doesn’t quite showcase their entire bag of tricks, but it’s an excellent introduction. The wackiness may not be to everyone’s taste, but there is still a brutal foundation for a formidable, enrapturing and undeniably unique metal force, unlike many before them. And remember kids, always check the label carefully, you never know what you’re getting yourself into.

I’m led to believe that once upon a time there was a six-song EP of theirs floating around, only it’s since disappeared from the internet. So until that time where material is released you should go to their website and listen to the three songs out there, being Doom Shroom, C0mb0 Song and rIpPleS, and else just have a general nose around.

Go give them a big virtual hug:

https://www.facebook.com/bIgtoBacCocoMpaNY?ref=ts&fref=ts

And if you liked the words I wrote, could I request a virtual hug too, be that in the form of a like, follow or blog subscription? At your own discretion of course:

https://www.facebook.com/IAmTheSoundshark
https://twitter.com/The_Soundshark

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The Black Tears

I’ve always been weary of the phrase ‘re-imagining a classic,’ just for the connotations of altering an item of much adoration so it fits in with a modern mindset. More often than not in musical terms, that would come in the form of cover versions of songs, in which a change in tempo or even musical style could bring about that phrase, for opening the minds of people, to thinking of the original beloved version in an entirely different way. This is by no means a new concept in the industry, but allow me to give it some context. The 90’s are making a comeback, long story short, and whilst I remain dejected or indifferent about less-than-to-be desired trends and genres of music, some I’m pleasantly content for a revival of. By their own admission, Nuneaton’s The Black Tears are ‘unapologetically influenced’ by the Seattle grunge scene, traces of their work certainly recalling Pearl Jam and Alice In Chains to name but a few. This female-fronted four piece not only invoke that spirit of angst and disenchanted youth, but their taming of a now iconic sound has settled into a bluesier territory, making for a very intriguing listen. Their past EPs and album very much were piloting a straight-up emulation, but greater experience on stage and on the road is moulding them into a truly enthralling beast of a band, especially on the basis of their most recent double A side single Liquid Fabulous. While the title track itself is belted out in a siren-fronted Soundgarden-esque dreamstate, it’s the flipside La Ghooste that fuses the new found blues flavour into the grunge counterpart, to form what resembles a melancholy soul ballad as performed by a lightly downtuned Alice In Chains. The plucking of bass at the beginning with the reverb of the guitar swipes gives the mood an atmospheric haze that with vocalist Lischana Lane’s velvet tones, sets the scene for a smouldering performance. Verses remain a quieter affair, melodies from the guitars teasing an inevitable shift in amplitude, but giving an aura of tragedy to the words spoken. Drums propel the pace steadily, prominent and powerful, yet never overcomplicated or detracting from the forte of the vocals. It slots perfectly into the tone and ambience of the storytelling. Reaching the chorus, that Alice In Chains overdrive kicks in with the guitars delivering the right sorrow-tinged notes in a heavier persona, even adding some wailing into the equation for good measure, all the while with vocals spreading wings before soaring into the skies. The last minute certainly infers as much, an impressive vocal range in numerous altitudes, to the tune of guitars twisting tension in the closing moments. The blues-infused grunge dream weaving of The Black Tears is an utterly fascinating experience, one that deserves far greater recognition. There lays the workings of sheer brilliance in their rendition of grunge’s finest, wringing the raw emotion and energy out of the sound beautifully, but in shaping it with another of history’s greatest sounds, the label of a classic reinvention never seems more appropriate.

Their most recent EP Liquid Fabulous from April last year, 2013’s Philosophy Of Perception EP and 2012’s album Lacrimal Lake are all available from most respectable music retailers for a reasonable fee. In the meantime, they have a website you should be looking at for their gigs and other things.

You should go like them on social media right away:

https://www.facebook.com/TheBlackTears?fref=ts

And if you like them, maybe you might like, follow me or subscribe to the blog too, or you might not, your call:

https://www.facebook.com/IAmTheSoundshark
https://twitter.com/The_Soundshark

by

The .Invalid

Technology always finds a way to astound us as human beings. It seems that however our civilisation conducts ourselves, there is something beyond our imagination that we hadn’t considered or we didn’t believe was possible. That is whether a new mechanical marvel or edging nearer photo-realistic graphics in a video game, just to name two examples of possibilities, constant breakthroughs or refinements, or even building something entirely from the ground upwards keeps us on our toes, wondering what is next to come. I find my relationship with electronic music is very much a similar affair. Only you occasionally have to excavate producers or musicians who dare to innovate or engineer like no one before them. That certainly seemed the case with the one man electro-industrial project The .Invalid, a true beacon of hope in the bland landfill of harsh distorted vocals and overly intense synthesisers. The vision of Edinburgh resident Seamus Bradd, The .Invalid ties together dual vocals leaning on a metal sensibility of clean and screamed, but atop a mountain of utterly breathtaking ambience and jaw-dropping production values, especially for a debut LP. For something titled The Aesthetics Of Failure however, unless in reference to the vast soundscape of emotions and moods linked to such that is explored on the album, the end result is nothing short of triumphant. Ranging from four to the floor soul-charged EBM stompers to atmospheric marvels to downtempo tugs of the heart, even more synth-pop orientated numbers, there seems to be very little the undeniably talented producer can’t do. In an album full of stellar, stand-out tracks, wittling down to a personal favourite seems incredibly unfair for undoubtedly one of the best albums I’ve heard last year. The honour does go to, as also indicated by my favourite songs of last year, Blind Myself for balancing everything that this album accomplishes so well into just over four minutes of EBM magnificence. From the introduction of rhythmic static, it leads in a beat engineered to thump you hard right in the chest, while warm arpeggios bubble beneath it, but never overpoweringly so. If anything is overpowering, it’s the euphoria from the emotional intensity from both sets of vocals, especially against the melody of the bright, airier synth in the chorus, which in its own right, hands down one of the most beautiful moments on the entire album. While lyrics are hard set on settling the score on a heartbreak, they really strengthen the impact of every intricacy and nuance in the sound design, no matter which tone is in use. The entire track is just the total package of what an unforgettable floorfiller should be: a memorable hook, a beat that shakes you to the core, perfectly complimenting layers of instrumentation, an atmosphere that expands any venue tenfold and the added emotional depth of a familiar life situation. Make no bones about it, the talent that this man has is unreal, and for a first LP, the energy and due care shown in his production defies vocabulary. This album is by far the most exciting injection of lifeblood into electro-industrial, in a very, very long time and broadcasts the emergence of an extremely capable producer, destined for greatness down to his extraordinary ability.

Traces of The .Invalid and Seamus Bradd appear to have disappeared from social media (apart from his personal Twitter account which I’m not gonna link to for privacy’s sake), he currently is now providing sound design for a new Halo mod, but please please please go listen to and buy The Aesthetics Of Failure from Bandcamp, it is an investment you will not regret. Also available at most respectable music retailers too, but just go give the man money.

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