Showing posts with label Black Sabbath. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Black Sabbath. Show all posts

Monday, October 19, 2015

Every Time I Die - Gutter Phenomenon




            If I am notorious for anything, it is most likely procrastinating for untold amounts of time before following through on people’s recommendations. Just like with Modest Mouse, for years, the name Every Time I Die was tossed relentlessly in my direction. Countless conversations ended with promises of “I’ll look them up when I get home,” shortly followed by apparent memory loss on my part. It wasn’t until my girlfriend’s tattoo artist spent an entire session shuffling their discography that I actually got to hear Every Time I Die, but by the end of that hour, I knew I had to delve deeper. With only a few days’ hesitation, I grabbed a copy of Gutter Phenomenon and popped it into my car, to find I understood this act exactly as much as everyone told me I would. 
            With a band name as ostensibly metal as Every Time I Die, music that showcases intensity is an absolute must, and these five musicians do not disappoint. Guitarists Jordan Buckley and Andrew Williams race through heavy melodies and distorted chord progressions, smashing metal grittiness together with rock’n’roll feels that call to mind acts like Black Sabbath and Motörhead.[1] As Jordan reveals in an interview with PureGrainAudio, the band’s infatuation with their rock forefathers is thorough, so much so that the album’s name is a callback to the genre’s beginnings, when the public saw rock as music made “just for losers” that “appealed to the lowest of the low.”[2]


            The chugging and squealing guitars may dominate the mix, but only because drummer Ratboy and bassist Kevin Falk (a Between the Buried & Me alumnus)[3] create a searing rhythmic foundation. On Gutter Phenomenon, Every Time I Die rips through hardcore punk tempos like they only have seconds left to live, attacking each note so thoroughly that you can practically hear the blisters forming on their fingers. Attach to this madness the piercing vocals of Keith Buckley, who grows like a possessed lion into his microphone, and the result is an almost sickeningly heavy sound that shatters the eardrums.              Without doubt, the music on Gutter Phenomenon writhes around like a serpent with its head cut off. The instrumentation is dripping with energy, a fact partially driven by the composition of the music. According to Jordan, the band strives to write riffs that are “not catchier, but harder to forget.”[4] The band explores pretty complex territory, swimming in syncopation during “Pretty Dirty” and messing with time signatures in “Bored Stiff,” yet they manage to rip through each piece with absolute intensity. As Jordan puts it, the band’s philosophy is simple: “We’re going to be playing these songs every day…so let’s write songs we’re never gonna get sick of playing.”[5] Every Time I Die commits fully to making music they truly care about, and while much of their songs tread the same worn metalcore territory almost ad nauseum, they load their performances with fury, fun, and true honesty.
            Although Gutter Phenomenon has its fair share of break downs, screeching minor second chords, and guttural screaming, Every Time I Die manages to break up the monotony of a genre running dry by leaning on older influences. Much of their guitar riffs are built around pentatonic and blues scales that call back to the days of Led Zeppelin and Aerosmith, and no song captures more rock’n’roll than “The New Black.” Instead of chugs, the instrumentation revolves around a wild guitar riff reminiscent of rock’s heyday. Both guitarists squeeze in trebly solos, and Ratboy even tastefully applies a cowbell. Similarly, Keith Buckley focuses on singing far more than screaming, and although his voice isn’t the most controlled, he really lays into his catchy chorus lines: “Everything I do is wrong / But by God I do it right.”[6] With “The New Black,” Every Time I Die takes the feel of 70’s rock music and applies a tasteful coat of contemporary metal to the finish, calling back to the greats while maintaining the band’s own signature grittiness.


            The package that Every Time I Die presents is very tight and thorough, but remarkably, one of their greatest strengths is also their weakest link. Lead singer and lyricist Keith Buckley perfectly embodies the metal frontman, and his screaming voice is full and dark, as if he has demons raging in his lungs. But where his heavy vocals reign, his singing voice is severely lacking, and he applies it far too often for its own good. As his melodic parts in “Guitarredand Feathered” and “Apocalypse Now and Then” show, he has an exceedingly hard time staying on pitch, and thus invites more wincing than applause.
            In a similar vein, Keith has a wonderful grasp on creating compelling images and applying poetic principles to his lyrics, but the myriad random scene changes in each song leave the overall pieces completely disjointed. With lines like “We drew a crowd / The crowd drew blood” from “Champing at the Bit,” it is obvious that Keith can wield his pen thoughtfully, but in the same song he jumps between completely unrelated images, moving from “the tide is swelling and we’ve fallen asleep on the shore” to “someone’s yelling fire in the theater.”[7]


            Although Keith’s overload of disconnected images leaves a lot of Gutter Phenomenon feeling unevolved, in “L’Astronaut,” he actually manages to impart a larger theme through the song. Amid changing time signatures and grindcore guitar, Keith paints a scene of a decorated soldier returning from war. His first lines depict the hero’s praise in a safe return, to which he replies humbly: “Honestly, it was nothing / We should all just thank God I’m alive.” Keith then dives beneath this modest façade, digging into the quiet trauma of PTSD; with lines like “I’ve got a 21 gun salute playing over and over and over in my head” and “I’m on call to be somewhere / Somewhere I’m not,”[8] Keith graciously hints at the permanent mental scars so many veterans carry with them long after the fight is over. In his own fragmented manner, Keith effectively describes a hero’s return to his country while taking into consideration the damage war can do to a soldier, turning “L’Astronaut” into a deft treatment of a narrative that has been all-too-familiar for the past decade.


            After spinning Gutter Phenomenon for the past two months, I am pleased to state that the music of Every Time I Die is everything they said it would be. Their riffs rock hard and heavy in a way most metal no longer dares, and their unbridled energetic performance is as infectious as influenza. But most potent in their music is the band’s honesty—each guttural scream and snare smash drips with a truth that is wholly Every Time I Die. Gutter Phenomenon captures the genuine imprint of these five musicians, humming a tone of honesty that rings above all else, and in my opinion, that alone makes this record worth experiencing. 
Tunes to Check Out:
1) Gloom and How It Gets That Way
2) L'Astronaut
3) Tusk and Temper
Posted by at No comments:
Labels: , , , , , , , , , , ,

Sunday, May 10, 2015

Aulbum Autopsy: Black Sabbath's Sabbath Bloody Sabbath


Disclaimer: The following piece is a super-in-depth look at one of my favorite records, and as such, it is riddled with personal opinions and praise for said record. This cannot be helped.

            Who would be so audacious, so utterly cocky, to claim they know the very first song they’ve ever heard? Me, that’s who. Maybe not definitively, but I have a very very good idea. All during my childhood, my father took great pleasure in the task of waking me for school by spouting whatever nonsense was rattling around in his head. Most of the time his non sequiturs were lyrics from songs he loved, and no well seemed deeper than his log of Black Sabbath tunes. I cannot impart even an estimation of how many mornings I was torn from sleep by my father’s exclamation of “You see life through distorted eyes / You know you have to learn!”[1]
            Those opening lines to “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath” have always been my dad’s standard for his ridiculous wake-up calls, and odds are they were the first song lyrics ever sung to me, though my association with them doesn’t end there. The parent record of that song, Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, has been in heavy rotation in my household for as long as I can remember. Whether from my parents’ ancient monolith of a stereo or from my father’s own mouth, I have been listening to this record for my entire existence, and its tunes are threaded deep within my heart. It is as much a part of me as my own hands, and after two decades, I think it’s about time I dissected it to see just how deep those threads run. 
            I am through and through a lover of rock, and I think it’s safe to say that the maelstrom of Sabbath Bloody Sabbath helped induct me into the world of grizzly distortion and booming basslines. Tony Iommi’s Gibson SG, perpetually tuned down to D♭, is the epitome of metal guitars, his power chords and melodies roaring beneath overlapping solos. Terry “Geezer” Butler’s bass tone teeters on the edge of overdrive, his lines wandering into blues territory before stomping back against the ridiculous rhythms laid down by Bill Ward, who hits his drums so hard you can actually hear his mics clipping.  On top of all of this, Ozzy Osbourne wails, his crisp, dynamic vocals soaring through the heights in “Killing Yourself to Live” and bordering an infuriated scream in “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath.” The sound that this quartet has cultivated has become both iconic and inspirational to thousands of acts, marking the way for generations of metalheads through the chilling, gloomy territory that Black Sabbath calls home, and for me, the darkness is nowhere stronger than on Sabbath Bloody Sabbath. 
            There’s no shortage of metal intensity on this record, but Sabbath Bloody Sabbath is far more dynamic in sound and shape than previous Black Sabbath records, and actually marks the beginning of the band’s journey into musical experimentation. Amidst the chaotic, crushing rock, the band has interspersed countless other instruments and textures. Acoustic guitars take prominent positions in the composition of “Looking for Today” and the title track, while synthesizers add depth and excitement to virtually every tune on the record, even taking center stage in “Who Are You” And Black Sabbath takes it even further, pulling out a harpsichord for “Fluff” and a flute for “Looking for Today,” going so far as to summon a full string section for “Spiral Architect.” In fact, the distinct lack of either bagpipes or sitar is due only to the fact that Tony Iommi had not yet learned either instrument to his satisfaction while recording. [2]
            Although only eight songs long, Sabbath Bloody Sabbath is a powerhouse record, a landmark for the Black Sabbath and the myriad acts that followed in their footsteps, not to mention for myself. It is loaded with musical moments and face-melting lines that have resonated within me for as long as I’ve been alive. Upon listening to it straight through with my father recently (something he hadn’t done in decades), I feel that it is finally time to give this monster its due.  


         1.    Sabbath Bloody Sabbath


            Opening with the riff that “saved” Black Sabbath,[3] “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath” tears open this record like a raucous cannon. Tony Iommi’s signature tone crams itself down our ears while Ozzy’s vocals attack the naysayers of the band, screaming at the “bastards” who “tell you that you’re on your own” and “fill your head all full of lies.”[4] According to Geezer, the band’s primary lyricist, the song is a “backs-to-the-wall rant” aimed at “the critics, the record business in general…management and everyone who was trying to cash in on us.”[5] The anger inherent in the lyrics feels just as apparent in the composition; every cymbal crash and bass growl drips with ire and disgust.
            Besides its inspirationally dark tone, “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath” is a model of metal in its composition as well. The tune eschews a verse/chorus alternation in favor of a series of suites, a choice that has since become a staple of the metal genre. After sloshing about in the mosh-worthy intro riffs, the song launches into a disgustingly dark palm-muted section before sliding into a swung outro. While all three parts have their merits, it is this middle section that grips the mind, and which rock legend Slash considers to be one of the heaviest riffs ever written.[6]  The band’s choice to include in the riff both the major and minor 3rds of the scale, coupled with Ozzy’s despairing intonations of lines like “Living just for dying / dying just for you,” have helped to define an entire musical atmosphere, and consistently rattle me to my core with each listen.[7]

        2.    A National Acrobat


            Haunting and spacious, “A National Acrobat” is another Sabbath standard and one of my father’s favorites. According to Iommi, it was Geezer who composed the skulking intro riff[8] that moves like sludge through water. Between distorted chords and Ward’s walloping drum beats, the song wanders into a wah-drenched B-section, over which Ozzy’s vocals drift like distant echoes through an expanse of sound as he waxes philosophical: “Don’t believe the life you have will be the only one / You have to let your body sleep to let your soul live on.”[9]
            “A National Acrobat” is a thoroughly metaphysical piece, the instrumentation a sprawl of thought and feeling which greatly reflects the meaning behind the lyrics. Geezer states that the tune is a musing on “who selects what sperm gets through to the egg,”[10] a fascinating and original idea that dips as much into science as it does religion. While Geezer’s lyrics brilliantly portray this inconceivable idea, it is Ozzy’s vocals that give it life. His delay-heavy harmonies and piercing highs create the impression of multiple beings singing as one, like a legion of never-born souls wondering when they will be chosen to exist. From conception to delivery, "A National Acrobat" is chilling and intricate, exploring some thought-provoking territory into which few minds have ventured.

        3.    Fluff


            Almost entirely Iommi’s doing, "Fluff" is just that—a fluff piece, a space-filler on the record, but at the same time, it’s a chance for a guitarist known for his grueling tone to flaunt some of his more light-hearted influences. Written as a tribute to DJ Alan "Fluff" Freeman,[11] "Fluff" deftly captures a classical feel, layering piano and even a harpsichord over interlocking guitar melodies, drawing the focus to the entire piece rather than a single instrument. Iommi almost entirely avoids using an electric guitar, instead pulling his melodies out from acoustics both 6-string and 12-string, and dropping in mere hints of a reverby electric to further open up the song. Although somewhat uneventful, "Fluff" shows us a side of Black Sabbath most people don’t think exists, and acts as a nice dedication to a man who helped the band find a following in their early days.

         4.    Sabbra Cadabra


            With speedy guitar licks and Ozzy's energetic singing, "Sabbra Cadabra" falls more under the label of rock'n'roll than metal, but Black Sabbath easily manages to conquer this more ear-pleasing style with their own dark flair. In fact, even in its earliest stages it appeared to be a favorite among friends of the band—upon visiting the studio, Led Zeppelin's John Bonham was apparently eager to drum with the band on it, and Yes keyboardist Rick Wakeman, who lays down some heavy synth in the bridge, apparently refused payment with anything but beer and jamming for his contribution.[12] Iommi's dexterous melodies on "Sabbra Cadabra" are respected even today, so much so that Metallica even medleyed it with "A National Acrobat" for their 1998 cover album Garage, Inc., choosing it over a plethora of more celebrated Sabbath tunes.[13]
            There is a lot to love in "Sabbra Cadabra," but the most stand-out performance comes from Geezer's bass. With a tone I can only describe as a roar, Geezer spends half the tune covering rhythm, his low end booming with Ward's kick drum, and the other half strutting, walking smoothly out of the choruses and peppering pentatonic runs underneath the drum fills. It is his bass that pulls the band together and pushes it forward, connecting the melody work of Iommi and Ozzy and gluing it to Ward's hectic rhythm, cementing "Sabbra Cadabra" as a rocking centerpiece on Sabbath Bloody Sabbath.

        5.    Killing Yourself to Live


            My father's anthem, "Killing Yourself to Live" is perhaps the best example on Sabbath Bloody Sabbath of the band's brand of catastrophic metal. Iommi's guitar kicks the tune off with a behemoth guitar riff that still stands as one of my favorites, and his rampaging power chords in the chorus immerse the listener in shadows. The gloomy A-section somehow slips into the manic coda, across which Iommi overlays two guitar solos while Ozzy's vocals spiral into absolute madness with the lines: "I don’t know if I'm up or down / Whether black is white or blue is brown / The colors in my life are all different somehow / Little boy blue's a big girl now."
            While Iommi's shredding guitar conquers the instrumentation, it is Geezer's lyrics that truly give the song life. Written whilst in the hospital for alcohol-induced kidney issues, "Killing Yourself to Live" breaks down the pendulous experience of the rockstar life—how the four of them struggled to make a living as musicians, and in receiving their fame, now continually destroy themselves with substances to cope with the pressures and stress of stardom. And with lines like "Just take a look around you, what do you see? / Pain, suffering and misery / It's not the way that the world was meant," this lyrical theme of suffering to survive can easily be expounded into the more general, working-man's anthem that it has become for my father, chronicling the struggle to endure and provide in the modern world.[14]

        6.    Who Are You


            Upon first listen, "Who Are You" feels somewhat like another throwaway tune, with its simplistic arrangement and quiet energy, but after continuous sampling, the significance buried in "Who Are You" arises to the forefront. This tune is one of the first to effectively mix synthesizers into a metal sound, and indeed, the phaser-laden tone of Ozzy's Moog immerses the song in a creepy mood, a soft but heavy counterpoint to Ward’s crashing cymbals and Iommi's melodious piano.[15]
            The spacious sound of the song adds to the metaphysical tone of the entire album, which is furthered by the piece’s lyrical condemnation of authority. Ozzy’s accusatory tone in the lines “You’re just like me, brother / Giving up your trust / And when you have played enough / You’ll just cast our souls / Into the dust,” pulls the high-and-mighty down to his own level, allowing his final query of “Who are you?” to simultaneously ring political and spiritual. Although one of the more placid tunes on the record, both the philosophical writing and ominous instrumentation on “Who Are You” insist that it belongs nowhere else but on Sabbath Bloody Sabbath.[16]

        7.    Looking for Today


            The unequivocal star of this song has to be Bill Ward, whose emphatic, animated drumming completely defines the feel of "Looking for Today." With grace and fervor he chugs and slams and thumps his kit, painting a vibrant backdrop over which Iommi and Geezer are able to weave elaborate riffs. Ward's exuberance behind the kit feeds also into the other members' performances, as Ozzy yanks wailing high notes from his core while Geezer's bass bellows in time with the drums.
            Besides the percussion, "Looking for Today" is also home to the most cohesive and thorough lyrical ideas on Sabbath Bloody Sabbath. Another analysis of the hectic hell that is the music business, "Looking for Today" poignantly preaches a philosophy of enjoying the moments you have, because they fly away all too fast. Geezer delivers this message through a long string of original paradoxes, capturing the fleeting feel of fame with lines like "Sunday's star is Monday's scar / Out of date before you're even seen" and "In demand, but secondhand / It's been heard before you even play." With "Looking for Today," Black Sabbath tears apart any pretense that the rockstar life is easy, instead using their energetic, upbeat rock to urge up-and-coming acts to enjoy the moments they have, because "tomorrow is another dream."[17]

        8.    Spiral Architect


            As the album's closer, "Spiral Architect" manages to encapsulate all the lyrical themes of Sabbath Bloody Sabbath while simultaneously presenting the best individual idea on the record. Written by Geezer in one of his more "contemplative" states, this tune explores how both experiences and genetics play a role in "creating an individual," which is perhaps one of the most unique lyrical concepts I've ever encountered.[18] He loads the song with heavy images, implying the many experiences, beautiful and horrifying, that come together to shape the human. His wording is virtually flawless, even down to his diction choices, such as the immediate juxtaposition of a "child of god sitting in the sun" with the image of a weeping father. And just as his speaker sees the culmination of these things and "know[s] that they are good," so too does "Spiral Architect" wrap up the metaphysical journey that is Sabbath Bloody Sabbath.[19]
            “Spiral Architect” certainly has the feel of an introspective "epic," and similar to the lyrics, Black Sabbath spares nothing in the instrumental sound of their concluding salvo. Iommi's meditative guitar intro quickly leads way into an all-out frenzy of hard-rocking guitars and thundering drums, while Ozzy's mourning yet spritely vocal flits in and out of the listener's ears. The energy the band captures in this tune is inspiring and powerful in itself, yet they take it one step further with the addition of a string section,  conducted by a mad and miming Ozzy Osbourne.[20] The addition of an orchestra into Black Sabbath's overdriven metal blends two distinct if not opposing styles of music, shaping "Spiral Architect" into a fitting finale for an ambitious record.


            When dissected from a lyrical perspective, listening to Sabbath Bloody Sabbath is like peeking into the personal diary of the band as these four musicians attempt to determine their place and purpose in the world. Both “A National Acrobat” and “Spiral Architect” delve into the notions of what shapes a human into a person from both a physical and psychological sense, giving equal voice to the effects fate and experience have in carving an individual. Similarly, “Looking for Today” and “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath” analyze existence from an artistic standpoint, a map of the struggles of maintaining a creative identity in the face of opposition, especially when the very forces that should be pushing you to succeed are in fact trying to stifle you. Finally, "Killing Yourself to Live” self-consciously acknowledges the struggles of coping with the life of a rock star, admitting openly to the self-destructive tendencies that provide such a simple escape.
            With these themes in mind, it becomes apparent that Sabbath Bloody Sabbath must be a very important record for Black Sabbath, having been written at a time when they thought they “were finished as a band.” Between non-stop touring and profuse “drug use and hard partying,”[21] Black Sabbath felt “absolutely, completely exhausted,” resulting in a harrying period of writer’s block that seemed interminable.[22] Simultaneously, mounting tensions between the band and its management as well as brooding resentment among the members themselves further dammed the creative flow and threatened to halt Black Sabbath’s dwindling momentum entirely.[23] It was only until they relocated back to England and began practicing in Clearwell Castle that the ideas began to flow again, and as one spin of this record will tell you, those ideas would leave a huge impact both in the world of metal and on the lives of fans, myself included.
            Because of how heavy the situation was for Black Sabbath as they entered into the studio to record their fifth LP, the resulting music is an honest and truthful reaction to their world at that time. In trying to break the molds of their past endeavors and all the baggage that followed, they innovated with new instruments and composition styles that elevated their sound to levels previously unexplored. In coming face-to-face with the true struggles, internal and external, of being a musician, the lyrics on Sabbath Bloody Sabbath blatantly assess the situations of drug abuse, bad management, and general exhaustion, and attempt to pull a light from the darkness by confronting it openly. As Geezer puts it, “people feel evil things, but nobody ever sings about what’s frightening and evil” even though “the world is a right fucking shambles,”[24] but with Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, Black Sabbath gives voice and presence to the evil in their lives in a fight to conquer it wholly.
            Sabbath Bloody Sabbath is a record of growth, an attempt for these four musicians to find out what it means to be both an individual person and a member of Black Sabbath. It is a journal of their journey through an important period in their history, and has since impacted the lives of countless fans. It entered my father’s life just as he began high school, and thus was one of the whetstones that sharpened him into the unique man he is today. Similarly, Sabbath Bloody Sabbath has been an integral piece of my soundtrack, a presence as constant in my life as the sun, and almost certainly my stands as introduction into rock music. The pure honesty and wholesome darkness that drips from this disc has followed me through almost all of my life experiences thus far, and continues to shine as one of my strongest draws for inspiration in my creative endeavors. And just as my father passed it onto me, so now I attempt to pass it onto you: give Sabbath Bloody Sabbath a spin, and don’t be surprised if what you take from it far outweighs the half hour you gave.




Posted by at No comments:
Labels: , , , , , , , , , , ,

Sunday, March 2, 2014

Between the Buried & Me - Alaska


            My life in relation to music mirrors a multi-stage rocket blasting through the atmosphere. My initial exposure lay in my dad’s classic rock collection, all Black Sabbath and Deep Purple; my second dose came in my early teen years with my best friend’s expansive collection of pop-punk and alternative from the 90’s, while the third wave broke in high school with my immersion into ska. Up until that point, the heaviest music on my iPod might have been Mudvayne’s radio-friendly hits, until a mix CD of hardcore music somehow drifted into my hands. Among others, engraved on that disc was the guttural and grueling “Autodidact” by Between the Buried & Me, the first song I’d ever heard that truly scared me. Its squealing pinch harmonics, throaty screams, and thundering blast beats were unlike anything I’d ever heard, and urged me to delve deeper into the darkness of hardcore. After only a few weeks, BTBAM’s Alaska found its way into my car stereo, kicking off the fourth stage of my musical ascent.
            Naturally, the initial terror I felt in sampling this band was only magnified when I began to listen to the full record; however, I quickly learned that this band could reach both brutality and beauty. Alaska features a broad spectrum of sounds, showcasing both this band’s unbelievable technical skills and their diverse approach to composition. Complicated time signature changes abound on the record, but Between the Buried & Me glides through them with ease, alternating between 3/4 and 4/4 in “All Bodies” and “The Primer” and trudging through a slowly collapsing 7/4 section in “Roboturner.” Paul Waggoner and Dustie Waring prove themselves as free-range guitarists, chugging and sweeping through “The Primer,” fiddling with syncopated madness in “Autodidact,” and fingerpicking and comping along the Latin-tinged “Laser Speed.” Blake Richardson hammers his drums in impulsive blast beats before dumping the clutch into low gear grooves, all four limbs flavoring each tune with improvisational syncope hits. Even the vocal spectrum is explored, as Tommy Rogers drops into deep and unintelligible growls in tunes like “Croakies and Boat Shoes,” only to amaze with gentle and spirited melodies such as in “Selkies: An Endless Obsession.” Being the first full-band writing effort for BTBAM,[1] Alaska seems to dip into every genre available, all while maintaining the band’s unique voice. Though much of their music spelunks in the abyss of deathcore, the spread of sounds, feels, and energies on this record proves that for Between the Buried & Me, genre labels hardly dictate behavior.
            The heavy nature of death metal is perhaps universally defined by three things: detuned guitars, bullet train drumming, and gruff screams shaped at the very bottom of the lungs. Often, virtually no room is left for basswork in such a formula (especially since guitar tunings regularly reflect drop C or lower, making a bass all but unnecessary); yet, as is their forte, BTBAM refuses to play into genre stereotypes, and with a weapon in their arsenal like Dan Briggs, it is obvious they made the right choice. Rather than drowning in the noise, Briggs lays down a heavy foundation with mosaic, jazzy lines, building on each successive rhythmic idea like the strata of a canyon wall, filling any available spotlight with sick tone and incredible finesse without outshining the rest of the band.
            One tune in which the bass shatters the mold is the certifiable “Roboturner,” a seven-minute onslaught of distortion and screams. Though perhaps as metal as it gets on this record, the star of “Roboturner” is undeniably Briggs, who slips through all the chugs with complicated walking lines that run the entire length of the song, not to mention a groove composed of chords and even a short sweep. The tune jumps between tempos and time signatures before finally crashing into the last suite, a 7/8 trudge introduced, of course, by Brigg’s overdrive-soaked thumping. The suite trudges on, slowly decreasing in tempo, before being swept back into the groove of chords and runs that leads “Roboturner” to its banging conclusion. Briggs dominates the composition on this piece, making damn sure that every listener knows that, though Alaska may fall under the deathcore label, the seventh track unequivocally belongs to the bass.  


            If Alaska is any example, Between the Buried & Me is a group that loves music enough to approach it with both heart and mind, and at the helm of this titanic stands Tommy Rogers, whose lyrical and vocal contributions shape the tone of the record’s though processes. Rogers seems to approach his lyrics from multiple standpoints, sometimes serious and accusatory: “Selkies: An Endless Obsession” criticize the capitalization of love and art with lines like “Market this change / exploit this idea of innocence,”[2] while “Croakies and Boat Shoes” attacks the faultless and condescending attitude synonymous of the “suburban elite.”[3] But despite the sinister tone of the music, Rogers also shows his humorous side through his writing, using the title track to explore insomnia and its effects with quips like “I’m fucking delirious right now…Not the best time for lyrics I suppose.”[4] Rogers presents a variety of tones and attitudes in his lyrics; however, he unfortunately slips into the cliché drawback of fronting a hardcore band where those lyrics are all but lost in his delivery. Alaska is loaded with both powerful singing and violent screaming, but the latter, being Rogers’ preferred method, completely drowns his poetic and literary senses in favor of intensity. Though his performance is quite spectacular in both realms of vocalization, the ratio of sing:scream unfortunately keeps much of his lyrics from being deciphered or understood.
            As is the rub with all technical musicians, much of the composition of Alaska, being both complicated and theory-based, runs the risk of erasing the emotional and human imprint of the performers. Many listeners find themselves unable to connect with music that has been dissected like a dead frog; diminished chords, tritones, and shifting tempos, while being interesting intellectual ideas, ring dissonantly in the ears of a non-musician. Truth be told, although there a lot of great ideas at play, between tremolo picking and quadruple kicks on the bass drum, some of Alaska devolves into pure noise. Chord progressions are lost in babbling tempos, taking significance they might have imparted into the abyss. However, unlike their colleagues, Between the Buried & Me refuse to stick to one formula or sound, peppering otherwise hectic compositions with moments of beauty. They even reserve three instrumental tracks to showcase their diverse and human sides, allowing the listener to find a foothold in tunes such as “Medicine Wheel” or “Laser Speed,” before diving into the dark waters of “Alaska” or “The Primer.”
            Because of this band’s dichotomous approach to their music, reserving moments for both technicality and luminosity, perhaps the most diverse song on this record is one that juxtaposes both. “Backwards Marathon,” Alaska’s longest composition, literally explodes into existence with headbanging rhythmic riff that would make most metalheads lose their cool. The song only gets heavier, sliding downhill into rhythmic chugs and sweeps like a house into a sinkhole. The instrumentation holds onto this anger for almost half the song, until suddenly falling into a gorgeous bridge, a repeating cycle of 5/4 and 6/4, championed by an innocent bass riff. Rogers’ chant of “It’s raining”[5] perfectly captures the gentle shape of this new section, whose gentle guitars and tingling ride cymbal create the image of the lightest of drizzles. The sheer magnificence of this section completely contrasts with the lunacy that preceded it, until, after culminating in a high and powerful vocal note, it explodes back into the intro riff, only to conclude in a heavy yet charming outro. “Backwards Marathon” is BTBAM’s treaty with the listener, a complex and delicious mix of both their technical musicianship and their soulful creativity.


            Though perhaps not the most accessible record, Alaska blends a myriad of genres and focuses them through the talented prism that is Between the Buried & Me. These musicians ostensibly know what they’re doing when it comes to music, and such a truth assures any listener music that is both complete and thought-provoking. Furthermore, this band compromises none of its vision or ability for anyone—Between the Buried & Me is making exactly the music it wants to, refusing to play into genre standards or stereotypes or to settle for less. “We don’t ever want money to get in the way of what we are doing,” says Rogers. “We just want to make the music we love.”[6] There is no illusion or compromise in their art, only five guys having a damn good time jamming together, and such honesty is what urged me to explore the word of hardcore, and what has kept me digging to this day.  

 Tunes to Check Out:
1) Backwards Marathon
2) Selkies: An Endless Obsession
3) Roboturner

Posted by at No comments:
Labels: , , , , , , ,
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)