Band – Lightning Bolt
Album – Earthly Delights
Label – Load Records
Release date – last October
Sounds like – 2 guys called Brian playing bass and drums

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I would dearly love to get into the minds of the two Brians (Chippendale and Gibson) that make up Rhode Island’s Lightning Bolt just to see where the hell they get their ideas. I’d also be intrigued to know what the thought process (if any) led creating each particular track on ‘Earthy Delights’ and indeed, on their past efforts. Part of me feels that a lot of this is improvised – jam session material that the two have come up with whilst trying to write something, but because both musicians know each other so well, to them, it never feels like an extended work out; this is how they play – this is their sound. It’s like they share this hive mind link of knowing what comes next. For every distorted bass pluck, there’s a thundering drum pound; for every unintelligible vocal howl, there’s the sound of an engine revving through an amplifier.

‘Earthly Delights’ is one of those rare albums where the cover art exactly reflects my feelings of the music contained on the compact disc inside. I’d imagine that if this CD was fed to a specialised automotive drawing machine, within 10 seconds it would be a flailing mess of mechanical limbs; scribbling and carving abstract shapes, distorted butterflies, misshapen devil flowers, smothering it all in layers of psychedelic paint before combusting. I imagine though it’s a subtle tribute to Hieronymus Bosch, only with less naked torture and bird demons eating damned souls.
Opening track ‘Sound Guardians’ is a stodgy start – a militant drumbeat, keeping a steady pounding rhythm as the bass circles it, like some kind of banshee-like predator, howling a pulsating drone of terror. Then it leaps on the drums and starts tearing and shredding with all the subtly of an axe in the back and a kerb to the face. Bassist Gibson then shifts gear, ripping a howling distort of swirling fury through Chippendale’s drumming, which is quite frankly, astonishing. This isn’t just mindless noise; this has serious grooves. Grooves you could graft onto the side of the Statue of Liberty. The bass, whilst thick with this murky distortion, has that driving grind that makes the listener want to snap their body into all kinds of convoluted shapes and spasms.

The dense attack of ‘Nation Of Boar’ cements the sometimes tight, but always relentless that the Rhode Island two piece have. In these 6 minutes, Lightning Bolt shift from a claustrophobic metal stomp, to a spaced out trance of sonic destruction. Gibson’s bass shifts ever closer to white-noise territory, straddling lines between brain-haemorrhaging feedback and aural brilliance, whilst Chippendale’s staccato stop-start rhythmic pound on the drums keeps everything in check (if that’s even possible). ‘Colossus’ slows actions considerably, favouring a sluggish build of thick, textures and almost progressive structures. It purrs with stoner pretensions; keen to be recognised as something the dope-smoking community would perhaps be content to nod their head to whilst entering the realm of doobie central, whilst the vocals are lost within this miasmic haze of gluttonous bedlam.

Lightning Bolt have never been a tight band. There sound is characterised by their scrappy, other-worldly approach to song writing and construction. This couldn’t be exemplified more than in ‘The Sublime Freak’; a messy jaunt of fake telephone rings, before a sudden dive into the muddy waters of scathing fuzz. The drums clatter and bounce as though they’ve been constructed from old pots and pans; particularly the pounding bass drum; which reverberates with a tinny stomp of unyielding power. Chippendale barks down the customized microphone; his vocals lost with Gibson’s drawling bass as the two combine to create a high-pitched clamour of dread. ‘Flooded Chamber’ is a strange one, even for Lightning Bolt standards – the first 2 minutes are reminiscent of someone re-tuning an incredibly loud, broken radio, whilst trying to play the stylophone at the same time. It howls like a wounded animal, present even when Gibson’s bass and Chippendale’s drums cut in, possibly in some vain attempt to drown out this wall of impregnable noise. I’m unconvinced whether this can be classed as music; it’s more like the occupants of a mental asylum doing some free-form musical experimentation as part of their ‘group therapy work.’

‘Funny Farm’ is classic Lightning Bolt of old; metallic riffs that grind and roar, complete with a distorted playground-chant from Chippendale and yet more impenetrable percussion.
The drugged nature of ‘Rain On Lake I’m Swimming In’ blurs boundaries between scribbles of improvised key bashing, with an atmospheric drone of stoned bliss. For some explicable reason it makes me think of summertime and running on a beach in slow motion, whilst a helicopter crashes into the sea in the distance. ‘S.O.S’ splices Theremin-style siren-noises within the turbulent rhythmic destruction. Whilst the track title pleas for salvation, the music tells a different story – it’s a chaotic abomination of rusty, guttural riffs and slovenly drumbeats, with the ever present wail of Defcon-4 in the background – punk fucking rock and no mistake.
It ends with ‘Transmissionary’; a lengthy 12 minute opus that vomits and rasps filth in every direction. The bass sounds as if it’s being played using a high-powered drill, layered with barbaric feedback, whilst the drums are just a deep groove of unrelenting fury.

‘Earthly Delights’ is a raw, pulsating beast of an album – a product of two individuals who live and breathe a plethora of warped and twisted sounds and do not know the meaning of the words “could you quieten down please.”

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Links

Lightning Bolt
Laserbeast
Load Records Myspace

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By Ross Macdonald

You don’t know how hard it is to find a picture of an insect playing an instrument on google images. No, I don’t want a crude drawing of a grasshopper riding a motorbike, that’s exactly the opposite of what I wanted.

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You Me At Six – The Consequence

Skyscraper high hooks that could net Moby Dick and that fresh, earnest sounding desire to please; it’s a bit like dropkicking a puppy in the face by slagging off bands like You Me At Six (atrocious band name). Despite their wetness, they actually make some half-decent pop-punk, which straddles the line between jumping on the railway tracks, before scrambling over the side before the guard catches them.

We Are The Ocean – (I’ll Grab You By The) Neck Of The Woods

I’ve reviewed these guys before; they’re pretty decent actually, trying to tap into that hole left by Funeral For A Friend, by mixing their soft post-rock noodling alongside Poison The Well-style big riffs and weird, grungy vocal wails (which don’t really work that well) but I suppose make a change from the strained yowl of the lead singer who struggles to make himself heard sometimes. Anyway, solid track.

Day Of The Sirens – Juneifer

A promising start that’s obliterated by the try-hard American-wannabe vocals that seem to have been copied and pasted from about 60 billion other bands that sound exactly like this and THEN they have the audacity to do the big SCREAMY breakdown bit – oh fuck off, I’m totally fed up of this shit now.

Dommin – Dark Holiday

I like the keyboards – reminds me of some baroque rock opera song; can almost imagine the floppy-haired lead singer swinging himself from the rafters like a yodelling miscreant. It’s that morbid gothic sound – more Danzig/Alkaline Trio (when they were really miserable) with (for once) a unique vocal lead, a chilling backing drone, heavy percussion and a confident swagger. Keep an eye on these guys.

Emilie Autumn – Misery Loves Company

Glitch-beats, a smattering of strings, squelching synths, odd bit of pounding techno and grit-your-teeth keyboard shrieks, coupled with that quirky cabaret gloom and some clichéd lyrics = Emilie Autumn. A decent voice, alongside an amalgamation of sounds that shouldn’t really work, but are surprisingly pleasant. For fans of Amanda Palmer, still undecided; kind of wish she’d given the track a different name.

Tiger Please – Without Country

I feel some punctuation has fallen off Tiger Please’s name. Perhaps it should be Tiger? Please! Anyhow, despite the music being pretty standard, (think alt-rock, rising guitar scrawls, scattered percussion, very Hundred Reasons in delivery) the vocals punch through the mix with a degree of age and wisdom, despite the fact Tiger Please’s singer resembles someone who isn’t old enough to buy alcohol. A clawing attempt to capture the spirit of 2002, which I commend.

Survive Atlantica – We’re All Shipwrecked

Someone’s been listening to Brand New. Yes Survive Atlantica, I’m talking about you. In fact, it’s like you’ve stolen the thoughts from Jesse Lacey’s head and crafted them into your own work. Slower passages and a greater emphasis on that rising hum of reverb that’s destined to crash in alongside a painful scream. No original ideas here, although it’s perfectly listenable.

A Hero A Fake – Swallowed By The Sea

Three dudes in this band play guitar = well overkill. Technically impressive, all ‘I can swing my guitar round my head and plant the body into your face, shattering your nose, yet still blast out an awesome riff’; also approve of the lyrics (of what I can hear) “OH GOD I’M SINKING!” – even the clean parts give it potency by not sucking complete arse. Would be interesting to hear what their other material sounds like.

Alesana – To Be Scared By An Owl

Bwahahahahahahaha, fucking jog on you bunch of overcoats.

The Mantra ATSMM – Helder Pedro Moreia

This is a bit like listening to a remix of an old-post rock song backwards; the skipping, shudders at the beginning, the short passages of crashing glitch-noise. Then a new element is introduced – ghostly vocal cries bleed through the smog of conflicting sounds and spiralling beats, only for the reintroduction of some 65daysofstatic riffage to finally finish the listener off. Stunning.

BigElf – Superstar

Trying to recapture the sound of the 70s, BigElf and their beards of power are a step in the right direction. Catchy choruses, cheesy keyboards, psychedelic riffs, steady rhythmic rumble and a sound that brings to mind Slade, Queen, The Beatles and T-Rex, this makes a nice change from the legions of screaming mongs that I have to put up with. Theatrical cock-rock eccentricity done with style and grace.

Rising – Dead Kings

This is actually a lot better than some metal I’ve heard from Scandinavia. Instead of just a bunch of dudes screaming at each other over some sloppy clattering; Rising have decided to actually write a tune; their sound is grime – the bass seems to dominate most of the verses, rustic to the point of collapse, whilst the guitar rings out an ominous screech ever chorus break and the drums feel like a savage blow to the head from a club hammer.

Slomatics – It Won’t Make You Happy

Never had a band been more aptly named. Slomatics take an unhurried approach to their playing, content to sit back and loiter on each note, each distorted drum hit, and each slurred vocal. Christ, with this relaxed attitude, I’m surprised they’re not playing backwards. Stoner-rock gone beyond; flying somewhere in the face of a sluggish, lingering pause and the sound of the Melvins crushing some bass guitars under an industrial press.

Throwdown – The Scythe

Are there any original members left in Throwdown now? This is more of the same; drilling-into-the-earth drumming, the odd flourish on the guitar, but it’s mostly the same stop-start-mosh-break brutality; but vocalist Dave Peters is actually trying to sing now instead of his usual meathead shouting; focusing more on raising his voice above the relentless barrage. Sometimes it works, sometimes not – weird one this.

Annotations Of An Autopsy – Impale The Sun

If you’re a fan of the sounds of someone hacking up a nice phlegm ball and gargling it for about 4 minutes, then chances are you’ll like this you disgusting human being.

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Links

See above. COMING SOON:

Mad Mac – casting his eye at the new music for 2010!
Retrospective (open to suggestions)
Hopeful album review
Amazon Marketplace challenge
Mixtape
Attempting to play Beatles Rock Band after too many beers

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By Ross Macdonald

Happy New Year and what a way to start but break out the old Rock Sound CD and see what there is on the horizon for the coming 12 months in the music world. An interesting and varied selection;  I only recognise about 2 bands and on the whole, most of them are worth investigating. Currently my mood is less than cheerful due to my stereo system deciding to censor my listening habits (i.e. skipping nearly all my cds or sometimes not recognising them at all.) Also, can you find a CD head cleaner anywhere? Can you bollocks – you’d have more luck going round toy shops asking for rocking-horse shit.

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Don Fernando – What You Need

With a name that sounds like a wealthy kingpin who grants favours on the day of his daughter’s wedding, Don Fernando plough a grubby furrow in rumbling, balls-out, meaty rock that gives nods towards Hermano and G.U. Medicine. There aren’t any lyrics as such, more variations on repeating the tracks title about ‘needing something’ – hey, not all rock has to be clever. Inevitably set to soundtrack the next Jason Statham film.

Japanese Voyeurs – Dumb

Singer sounds like a 13 year old pink and black haired slut-bomb “well goffik innit” chinless stropper who has decided that spilling out all her anger and frustration in the world through the medium of slurred, Hole-esque, bass-heavy, stupid punk is a good idea. One for Jason I think.

Dinosaur Pile-Up – Cat Attack!

Not sure what to say about this. Massive swinging ‘yooooooooooooooowwwwoowww’ verse-chorus transition through the guitar that they don’t try and cover up in any way, which gives it that cheeky quality. Reminds me a bit of Weezer if they were heavier – CATchy chorus (pun intended) and seems to be taking some ideas from Calories as well. Would definitely see live.

The Swellers – Fire Away

Rubbish name. Singer’s obviously been listening to a lot of New Found Glory as his Jordan Pundik impression (singing through his nose) is rather tiresome. Standard emo-core stuff, absolutely nothing new; I’m also not surprised to find that Hayley Williams from Paramore champions them, because they sound EXACTLY like Paramore, only with more annoying vocals. No one wants this.

Blacklist Royals – American Hearts

The Swellers take note: this is how you do punk you fucks. Blacklist Royals sound a bit like Rancid if they cleaned up the vocals, added more melody and a bit of organ. The Gaslight Anthem is also another obvious reference point (musically, not vocally) as ‘American Hearts’ has a similar patriotic swagger. Very Epitaph records, plus, I’m already on my second listen and I’m singing along, therefore: excellent track.

Sick Puppies – So What I Lied

Had these guys down as twee indie nonsense from their name; I’m only a minute and 40 seconds in and I’m starting to wish that this sub-par, straw-grabbing, formulaic nu-metal was all about handclaps and xylophones. The only kudos this gets is when the angsty, hand-wringing lead singer starts yelling “LIFE! IS TOO! FUCKING! SHORT!” like he’s been scrambling up KoRn lyrics.

Skeletons and the Empty Pockets – Everyone Still Loves You

Now, I really like this – not just because Skeletons feature the four dudes out of thisGIRL + 1 more; but because it’s a seriously brilliant tune. A jaunty, circus-style stomp, a huge jazz-hands in the air flamboyant burst of sound, Liam Creamer’s tremendous vocal lead and some driving riffage – great stuff.

Blackstorm – Weakened By Division

Sounds like Rainydayfuckparade. Oh sweet, Karl Middleton from Earthtone9 on vocals! Impressive riffs that slam down with textbook precision alongside the stocky drumbeats and this familiar, grinding drone of a particularly filthy bassline. Absolutely adore the rushed ending that should have been slightly longer.

Karhide – Stooge

Ah now this is something along the same lines as 65daysofstatic. Here we have the odd juxtaposition of trip-hop beats, bottoming-out, rumbling basslines that drip with malice, sporadic drum hits and some chunky, driving revs of guttural sludge. Nice spacey “wooohhhaaawwwooohhhaaaa” bits as well.

Maths – To Be Frozen

The Maths sound – “like wiping your arse with vinegar-soaked sandpaper after 10 pints of Guiness and a curry.” It’s raw, uncompromisingly vicious, with a vocalist who must spend about 8 hours everyday shouting into a storm. The feral future of noise/hardcore if I’m not much mistaken; ones definitely to watch, future Botch/*insert name of popular American hardcore band here* in the making.

Trash Talk – Sacramento Is Dead

Hardcore punk done in about 69 (dude!) seconds. No time for solos, chorus or any of that other bollocks. The vocalist spits lyrical sound bites at breakneck speed, spluttering and stammering over the wave of standard punk riffs, only slowing to chant the songs title like some drunken disobedient.

Talons – Commiserations Buff Orpington

Some nice instrumentals now in the form of Talons, who’s heavy use of percussion and sweeping violin segments give a nod towards something you could expect sound-tracking the trailer for a BBC period drama. It then evolves into something that would be played during an eclipse or even at the event of an exploding space shuttle. Depressingly heavy, which gets Talons a big thumbs up.

Whitemare – Deal The Cards

Oh god, actually air-punching to this shit. Whitemare sound like Zeke, in fact, if I hadn’t read their name I’d have thought “wow, Zeke are sounding a bit awesome nowadays!” There’s a bit of that Winnebago Deal fire present as well. I bet they all wear lumberjack shirts, drink whisky straight from the bottle and smash their instruments to bits at the end of every set. No frills crusty speed-rock, that everyone wishes they were part of. Easily the best track on the CD.

Wounds – Ugly Mouth

With a name like Wounds, they just had to be a hardcore band, or at least, in league with that whole noise-meets-hardcore racket that’s so popular nowadays. The singer seems to be channelling the dude from Snapcase, as do the rest of the band; as they’re jerking; dislocated sound is almost identical to the unsettling, caustic racket of the much missed New York quintet – a harsh, scratching, ear-wrecker of the future.

Carcer City – Signals

Good name, (Grand Theft Auto reference?) shame about the music. When a singer has an interesting voice, this kind of plodding metalcore can sometimes be saved; but when he’s just doing the same old “yeah, been gargling bullfrogs for about a year wwoorraaagggggg”-fest then naaa, not for me.

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Links

As above, I’m going for a Ketel One.

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By Ross Macdonald