August 2001

Calling all metal drummers: Achtung!

Eddie August 30, 2001 No Comments

From the same label that brought you recordings of such timeless metal acts as Mercyful Fate, Deicide, King Diamond, Suffocation and Biohazard comes one of the greatest industrial/metal giants, Fear Factory. Roadrunner Records, a Dutch independent that recently hooked up with Vivendi Universal’s Island/Def Jam Music division, has been cranking out excessive amounts of nü metal as of late, with the exception of its Glen Benton’s obligatory Deicide releases. Fear Factory, hailing from Los Angeles, has separated itself from the ravenous pack of 20-somethings in search of the next Ozzfest buy-in package—Slipknot, anyone?—by staying true to its sound.

The hour-plus drive to the Phoenix Theater in Petaluma, home of wrist-wrestling championships and free-range chickens, proved to be well worth our extended efforts.

Except, well, with metal militia—i.e., some buddies—in tow, I managed to catch an uninspired set by a Puerto Rican combo calling itself Puya, a rap-metal hybrid that managed to create some movement in the 350 attendees. Maybe it’s just me—yes, it is me—but didn’t this genre’s ship sink back in the mid ’90s? Anchors away!

Next up was Fear Factory, a band that’s obviously been taking notes in Lighting 101 class. The band’s stage show—a flood of synchronized spotlights, strobes and smoke—worked well with its dark and menacing aura. With reckless abandon and caution thrown to the wind, guitarist Dino Cazares launched into “What Will Become” from Fear Factory’s latest album, Replica. Burton Bell, on vocals with harmonizer, planted one foot firmly on the monitors and belched out the set in true death-metal fashion. Commanding the huge 60’ X 40’ stage like a drill sergeant, Bell’s onstage banter made the metal masses stand at attention.

Such hi-hat and double-bass workouts as “Scapegoat” and “Pisschrist”—the latter this writer’s favorite—sounded even larger in a live setting, and highlighted the talents of drummer Raymond Herrera. If you’re a metal drummer and you haven’t heard Fear Factory’s Fear Is the Mindkiller or Demanufacture, you’d best trade your Sabian cymbal pack and Pearl Export for a gift certificate from your favorite record store.

Fear Factory is a darling of the U.K. press, but the band hasn’t “broken,” in record-company parlance, stateside. However, by year’s end, this band may be just a lot closer to reaching the goal of worldwide acclaim. If its growth, and the resulting maturity, over the years have yielded anything, that might make for a solid foundation. Burton and company are reinventing this archaic genre into something quite extraordinary. Take heed: Miss this band now and you’ll be kicking yourself later.

(SN&R)

Krisiun

Eddie August 30, 2001 No Comments

Ageless Venomous espouses all of the essential metal topics—ceremonial killings, desecration of the living and dead, suffocation. Bassist/vocalist Alex Camargo can deliver live, as evidenced on this Brazilian band’s last tour with Nile and Cannibal Corpse, and in the studio. Their sound is not unlike fellow Brazilian band Rebaelliun, Centurian and Deicide. The title track, replete with Max Kolesne’s triggered 32nd double-bass notes, showcases the musicianship of this trio. Unlike most death/speed-metal acts, Krisiun is not afraid to risk its credibility by drifting outside its genre. There’s even a classical guitar interlude by Moyses Kolesne, “Diableros,” that would give John Williams and Andres Segovia a run for the money. Krisiun is to death metal what Slayer is to thrash metal. Like a lesson in flagellation, this band will make you succumb to the pain—and you will enjoy the consequences.

(SN&R)

Trees walking

Eddie August 23, 2001 No Comments

Yet another neo-progressive rock combo, ent, stalks the local forest looking for a new cult

The lads in ent, sans tree suits, making a jolly good racket.

Channeling elements of minimalist classical music, à la Phillip Glass, with King Crimson/early Yes and Genesis, an artsy, instrumental quartet calling itself ent has simultaneously dislodged and elevated the bar for local musicians. Call what ent does “panic” rock. If Frank Zappa’s instrumental dabblings were spliced into cut-and-dried verse counts, somewhere to the left of that you might find ent, whose name betrays an e.e. cummings-like disdain for capital letters. The panache of these four young players—median age, 20—may seem awkward; it may cause anyone stumbling across their music for the first time to, well, panic.

Carson McWhirter plays guitar and Warr guitar, the latter a multi-stringed abomination of an instrument akin to a harp/piano. Ian Hill not only plays drums; he’s also responsible for the pretty landscape shots on ent’s EP cover. Scott Scheu is the group’s other guitarist, and Dustin Koupal plays bass. From their humble beginnings in a couple of area rock groups, Samus Aran and Falling Under, the members of ent have blossomed into one of the West Coast’s niftier instrumental combos.

After playing anywhere from two to six shows per month in and around the Bay Area, ent has attracted the interest of Darla-distributed Omnibus Records, which will release the group’s forthcoming full-length debut. Omnibus seems to be a perfect home for ent’s first formal release. “I try not to think about labels too much,” McWhirter says. “I’m not really into the ‘music business’—not the majority of it, anyway.”

The group’s name may sound obscure, but any fantasy fiction fan should recognize its origin. “It’s from The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien,” says Hill, who often engages in mindless acts of sparring—the band members like to have swordfights in the countryside in their spare time—that involve naked women, berries and a helluva lot of foamcore. In Tolkien’s masterpiece, the ents were massive but mobile trees that came to the rescue of Frodo Baggins and company. “Once the movie comes out,” he adds, “everyone will know.” Dungeons & Dragons enthusiasts? Maybe, maybe not.

McWhirter plays the aforementioned Warr guitar, which draws considerable attention at shows because of its awkward shape, along with the style of finger-tapping used to play the beast—think the Chapman stick. “If you were to cut your fingers off and replace them with the hammers of a piano,” McWhirter says, explaining his technique, “and you put a massive fretboard behind the strings and then use your imagination, you might get something.

“You may just get a mess,” he adds.

While McWhirter prefers classical and classic-rock fare along the lines of KC and the Sunshine Band and Captain Beefheart, Hill and Scheu are dialed into such texture-driven acts as Plaid, Squarepusher, Tortoise—Chicago’s finest experimental act—and Sigur Ros. Koupal prefers noise on the electronica tip.

If ent isn’t playing locally, you might catch up by checking out one of its favorite local bands—Pocket for Corduroy, Hella, Deimos, Shortie, Electro Group or perhaps even Hi-Hat Attack, a group that uses nothing but hi-hat cymbals. “I’ve never really heard Hi-Hat Attack,” Hill admits, “but the idea seems so rad.”

Whatever way you cut it, the panic generated by ent is pure sonic bliss. The five-song, self-titled EP, available at ent’s live shows on home-burned CD-R, is a good introductory totem. If you’re out looking for the next best thing to prog rock, look no further. One can safely consider ent’s music, entertaining and downright precocious as it is, to mark a new chapter in Sacramento’s rich musical history.

(SN&R)

Tindersticks

Eddie August 23, 2001 No Comments

What separates Tindersticks from the diaspora of indie-rock droners is the subtle beauty of Dickon Hinchliffe’s vocal delivery. With his deep, warbling voice, a certain sense of warmth and comfort resonates throughout this lovely affair. Although not as clearly focused as earlier efforts (see their first Bar/None or their last London release), Can Our Love… has some fleeting moments. From the opening track, “Dying Slowly,” to the lovely (yet short) “Tricklin’,” Tindersticks explore a range of dynamics and simplicity not often heard in today’s attempts at melancholy. If the title track doesn’t make you contemplate the four-letter word all over, you may want to get out a little more. If Nick Cave’s darkest years met with the most meandering moments of traditional R&B Tindersticks would be the offspring. Oooh, what a pair.

(SN&R)

Dragonlord

Eddie August 16, 2001 No Comments

Eric Petersen has been a busy man. In addition to his main band, Testament, he’s produced this well-rounded black-metal project. Dragonlord is Eric Petersen on vocals and guitar, Jon Allen (Sadus) on drums, Steve DiGiorgio (Death) on bass, Steve Smyth (guitarist from Testament) and local boy Lyle Livingston (Psypheria). Direction? Judging by the epic intro of “Vals de la Muerte” and the bombastic delivery of “Unholyvoid,” these boys have been influenced by the black-metal hordes. Fans of Dark Funeral, Cradle of Filth, Dimmu Borgir and Hecate Enthroned should embrace Dragonlord’s CD like Nosferatu cherished those flasks of blood. Dragonlord creates epic songs with drastic bridges, augmented by Petersen’s production efforts and Daniel Bergstrand’s mixing skills. If this album doesn’t incite random acts of sadism, it’ll surely awaken the nocturnal and feral instincts buried deep within.

(SN&R)

But the little dogs understand

Eddie August 16, 2001 No Comments

Local instrumental spazzcore duo Hella sez this is your brains on the rug

Hella is Zach Hill, somebody’s pooch and Spencer Seim: Some higher sonic frequencies, only dogs and Geddy Lee can hear.

When Legs on Earth split like an amoeba in a petri dish before heading straight down the drain—how’s that for a lead, Madame Curie?—guitarist Spencer Seim and drummer Zach Hill found safe refuge with an entirely new sound. Hella, as the duo christened its new project, started playing shows around the greater Bay Area and Sacramento Valley. In the process, the neo-prog combo gained a sizable local following.

Hella recently released its first EP, which sold, amazingly enough, more than 30 copies at one show alone! Could it be that Hella has come to take shake your collective senses in ways unimaginable and stimulate you into neurotic fits?

Hellacious? Hella? Does it really matter what the etymology of a band’s moniker is? After all, it’s the music that counts, right? Just what kind of band would name itself after an overused Fast Times at Ridgemont High catchphrase that has taken root, nearly 20 years later, as a staple of local teen lexicon? And what makes the Hella Experience? “Zach mentioned it jokingly one day and it stuck,” says Seim, obviously not concerned with modern-day semantics.

Such other lesser-known acts as Lightning Bolt, the Moldy Peaches, Vaz, Pink & Brown and the Need have also used similar two-piece configurations with great effect. “There’s definitely quite a few out there currently,” says Hill, a tall and skinny but outspoken fan of the aforementioned acts. “Everybody has got their own way of doing it—which is good.”

Seim claims the duo is creating music for a specific purpose. “We’re out to boggle some brains and try to give people an insight into what our dog thinks about when he is alone in our backyard,” he deadpans.

Strange? Not strange at all, when you consider that Seim’s self-professed guilty pleasure is listening to music from his eight-bit Nintendo.

Hill previewed the duo’s initial recordings that would make up its self-produced EP, Leather Diamond, before its formal release—a photocopied cover stapled with a CDR—which is currently available at shows only. Needless to say, the band’s brash approach is quite intriguing. If you can imagine Primus frontman Les Claypool’s bass lines mimicked at warp speed alongside some of the craziest bass-drum/full-kit rudiments since Terry Bozzio’s years playing with the late Frank Zappa, you’d possibly understand about half of what Hella is trying to achieve sonically.

Hill is one of Sacramento’s greatest skinsmen. He pummels his drum kit—often destroying countless drumsticks, warping drumheads and breaking bass-drum pedals on a regular basis. And Seim is an adept guitarist who, for the most part, remains sedentary onstage while administering fretboard work that would befuddle and amuse almost any unsuspecting club-hopper.

The duo just inked a deal with influential Olympia, Washington, indie label Kill Rock Stars’ imprint 5RC. That, along with a pending October East Coast tour in the works with Seim and Hill’s buddies in Lightning Bolt, indicates things are happening hella fast—pun intended.

Hella is scheduled to record again in November, and a full-length CD is due around next February. Synchronizing the logistics—getting a booking agency to put together a tour that will work with the next CD’s release—is today’s challenge. “We’re figuring everything out and coordinating it with the label right now,” says Hill, who is obviously amazed at the progress of the duo and seems aware of the upcoming workload.

Sacramento has needed a prolific act like Hella to help turn around the sonic atrophy of the last few years. Better enjoy it while these guys are still local, though: Hella good may soon equal hella gone.

(SN&R)

Neurosis

Eddie August 16, 2001 No Comments

From its days at 924 Gilman to Ozzfest, Neurosis has kept it real with a sound akin to Grotus—the now-defunct S.F. industrial sludge-core outfit—and the more bludgeoning moments of the Melvins and Will Haven. At one point, the various members of Neurosis were living in different states while still managing to tour and release material. To help develop some of its musical ideas, the band recently formed its own label, Neurot. On its latest album, Neurosis creates more than just a cerebral slaughter of the mind; Steve Von Till and Scott Kelly bounce screams off one another with enough urgency to make any metalhead go mindlessly destructive. Neurosis truly is the progenitor of some yet-to-be-named genre that feasts on gray matter. Listening to Neurosis, in layman’s terms, is akin to a hammer blow to the head after one too many penguins.

(SN&R)

Gentle acoustic sounds for avid gardeners

Eddie August 9, 2001 No Comments

Prices: $40.25 for one ticket. $13 for parking. $5.50 for a 12-oz beer. $3.75 for a small Coke. To precisely what target demographic does the music industry think it’s catering? The typical metalhead, including this writer, can’t afford a live show without trading jailbait sister and the rest of the immediate family as collateral. With package tours à la Ozzfest 2001 on the rise, prices have soared and expectations have diminished.

Jeff, my death-metal cohort, and I, came to see two bands of the five offered on this late July night at the Compaq Arena in San Jose. Although we were disappointed by the drive, we were further peeved by the time allotted to our favorite acts. After all, who wants to hear 30 minutes of their favorite act when they can wait till their headlining tour and hear a full set for half the price?

Morbid Angel opened the Extreme Steel 2001 tour as invited guests of Phil Anselmo, lead singer of headliner Pantera and avowed black/death-metal enthusiast. Seeing a death-metal act in a 14,000 capacity venue is a spectacle in itself. As it jumped in their first song in front of the 5,000-plus crowd at 6 p.m., it was clear that Morbid Angel, Florida’s finest, had something to prove. As Anselmo sat on the side of the stage looking like a kid at Christmas, Trey Azagzoth and Eric Rutan led a crushing dual-guitar assault of sonic bliss. Pete Sandoval, perhaps the greatest death-metal drummer, played with ferocity and tenacity and let his double-bass calisthenics do the talking. Sporting a new singer (Jeff Tucker is currently on temporary leave), Morbid Angel showed no sign of weakness; it careened through a varied set with material from its Earache and Giant/Warner Bros. eras, highlighted by my favorite tunes—“Rapture” and “Day of Suffering,” on which Anselmo joined in on vocals.

Two bands later (Skrape, then Static X) and $32 more in the hole—I had to buy a damn T-shirt, see—it was time for Slayer, which has been making a new album, God Hates Us All, that will be released September 11. ’Twas obvious from the reaction of the 12,000 in attendance what tonight’s main course was. Kerry King and Jeff Hanneman, looking as if they’d indulged in a little too much fine cuisine between recording takes, still looked as menacing and evil as their younger Show No Mercy era years. Tom Araya still looked pretty much the same—long, flowing curly mane—and Paul Bostaph looked as if he’d been hitting the weights.

Slayer launched into “Reign in Blood,” followed by “Chemical Warfare,” from the infamous Haunting the Chapel EP. Los Angeles’ blaspheming bad boys showed they haven’t lost their edge and played cuts from every release. Even the lackluster “Bloodline” from the horrific Dracula 2000 and “Stain of Mind” sounded phenomenal. Of course, such staples as “Dead Skin Mask,” “Angel of Death” and “South of Heaven” only made the evil air a little thicker.

How could Pantera top that? With our question firmly answered, my buddy and I descended the stairs of Compaq and into the South Bay air. If Slayer wasn’t the best band on the planet, ever, it was tonight. March to the kingdom of the dead, dammit.

(SN&R)

The Velvet Teen

Eddie August 2, 2001 No Comments

You may recognize this band for their lineage alone—vocalist/guitarist Judah Nagler and drummer Logan played with now-defunct Little Tin Frog, while bassist Josh Staples played with Conspiracy, one of the better West Coast ska acts of the ’90s. This Santa Rosa-based trio has been working the West Coast club circuit for the past year and has been winning over fans everywhere. Nagler, whose voice comes with a similar warbling falsetto, sounds not unlike a young Jeff Buckley, or Jacob Golden from Birthday. From lush ballads—“Super Me,” “Mother of Love” to the glorious uptempo workouts—“Naked Girl,” “Counting Backwards”—the Velvet Teen’s music shimmers with three-part harmonies and elegant transitions. This EP is available at shows or via the band’s Web page at artists.mp3s.com/artists/cds/50/50860.html.

(SN&R)

Tha Liks

Eddie August 2, 2001 No Comments

This “reunited” West Coast collective, which features Tash, J-Ro and E-Swift, has buried its former moniker, tha Alkaholiks, in favor of tha Liks, which perhaps is easier to say in a drunken stupor. If the last outing didn’t make you wanna drink till the porcelain bus pulled curbside, the latest should get those stomach muscles churning (in a good way). This set is from the men who literally invented drunk rap, a tongue-in-cheek style that landed them slots on many coveted tours (including the Warped). “Bar Code,” featuring Xzibit, kicks off the album in high style and only gets warped from there. The album features some great guest performances, particularly the Defari and King T tracks. X.O. Experience looks to be the party album of 2001.

(SN&R)