Dunable tunes as Lester watches

. . .

This is the world premiere of audio from Intronaut’s new album Valley of Smoke, which has a tentative release date of October 12 on Century Media. The song is called “Elegy”.

“Elegy”
[Audio clip: view full post to listen]

I’ve heard it live three times, at two Intronaut gigs in Los Angeles this summer, and at the first show of their ongoing tour with Cynic and Dysrhythmia. (See dates below.) Each time it set the crowd alight. It plays to Intronaut’s strengths: a ridiculously limber rhythm section, expansive guitars, and did I mention a ridiculously limber rhythm section? Like his position onstage, Joe Lester’s bass is front and center. Danny Walker pushes and pulls against it with crisp, colorful percussion.

The new element is singing. This also happened to a band Intronaut is often compared to, Mastodon. Unlike Mastodon’s, however, Intronaut’s singing is firm but understated, and reminds me of Fugazi. On their latest albums, Coliseum and Kylesa have also sung more, with obvious Fugazi influences. Perhaps letting the Fugazi flag fly is what today’s metallers do when they discover that their voices can do more than just yell.

This track is a final, unmastered mix. It sounds great, with bite in the guitars and lively stereo imaging. Let’s hope that those things survive mastering. Intronaut’s last album, Prehistoricisms, suffered from the over-compressed mastering that’s epidemic in today’s metal. As a result, Walker’s drums went thud, not snap like they normally do. Here they snap, and are a joy to hear.

. . .

I observed one night of the Valley of Smoke recording sessions. This is what I saw.

. . .

"Again, with feeling"

. . .

Clear Lake Audio
North Hollywood, CA
May 26, 2010

Sacha Dunable is screwing up. That’s what recording is: screwing up until you have the perfect take – or enough material for studio magic. Dunable sits next to producer Josh Newell, who makes him play take after take. I don’t hear much wrong, and I’d like to think that I have good ears. But Newell is in the producer’s chair because he has better ears than mine. His ears are hearing less-than-perfect takes. So he stops Dunable every so often, moves the cursor back in Pro Tools, and says, “Do that again”.

Dunable is incredibly stoic about it. Not only is Newell telling him that his playing isn’t good enough, so are his bandmates Dave Timnick (guitar) and Joe Lester (bass). When one member of Intronaut records, the others are there to critique his performance. (Walker is the exception. After recording his drums, he leaves the sessions. He just doesn’t like being around for such details.) So Dunable has three people breathing down his neck, plus two observers in the room, me and a friend of the band. You’d think that recording would be a private activity. No one likes to screw up in front of other people. But here Dunable is, patiently screwing up in front of all of us.

. . .

"Still not loud enough, still not fast enough"

. . .

Recording grinds to a halt when Timnick discovers that Walker has screwed up. In one bar, he misplaced a kick drum by something small, like half a beat. Evidently the kick is an essential accent in the song. Anxious discussion ensues. Newell suggests moving the kick via Pro Tools to the correct place. The alternative, of course, would be getting Walker back into the studio to play that kick. That’s ludicrous, so Newell moves the kick. This disturbs me briefly. Of course, one function of studios is to perform studio magic. But Intronaut’s music is very organic. They are not the type of band that is assembled in Pro Tools. So it’s jarring to see them use studio magic to fix an error. Still, it’s not like (a) they’re putting Walker’s entire performance through studio magic, or (b) one could tell anyway.

Problem solved – time for a cigarette break.

Outside, I hear stories of Newell’s higher-profile clients, which include pop stars and nu-metal bands that shall remain unnamed. Evidently one such band, which has been in the studio for the last two years, will take a riff to Newell and ask him to make a chorus out of it. Fixing a kick in Pro Tools suddenly doesn’t seem so bad.

. . .

Recording feedback

. . .

Next is recording feedback for one song. Feedback is not necessarily a spontaneous burst of noise. Tonight it is a sound carefully sculpted in an acoustic enclosure Newell has constructed. While Dunable waves his guitar around and conjures up various pitches of feedback, I chat with Lester in the control room.

Lester is a musician’s musician, with a deep background in jazz and funk. His bandmates have other backgrounds, which creates an interesting dynamic. Walker comes from metal, and his predilection for blastbeats drives Lester up the wall. Once during practice Walker and Lester fell into a funk groove, and Dunable tried to jam along. The way Lester describes Dunable’s lack of rhythm is merciless.

But Intronaut are not jazz or funk or metal so much as they are all those things. A metal drummer, a jazz bassist, and two guitarists – one a polymath and the other very white – can come together to create something singular. That’s clear from what I hear tonight. After feedback recording finishes, the band plays me demos of the new album. They’re fantastic. Walker’s drums and Lester’s bass are instantly recognizable. The musical depth is obvious even without mixing or perfect takes. All that screwing up is in the service of something good.

. . .

INTRONAUT TOUR W/ CYNIC & DYSRHYTHMIA
Remaining dates

Jul. 30 – Minneapolis, MN – Station 4
Jul. 31 – Chicago, IL – Bottom Lounge
Aug. 01 – Detroit, MI – Magic Stick
Aug. 02 – Toronto, ON – Opera House
Aug. 04 – Montreal, QC – Café Campus
Aug. 05 – Boston, MA – Harpers Ferry
Aug. 06 – New York, NY – Bowery Ballroom
Aug. 07 – Philadelphia, PA – Trocadero
Aug. 08 – Washington, DC – The Rock a – Roll Hotel
Aug. 09 – Carrboro, NC – Cat’s Cradle
Aug. 10 – Atlanta, GA – Masquerade
Aug. 12 – Orlando, FL – The Social
Aug. 13 – Ft. Lauderdale, FL – Culture Room

. . .

A whole lotta Nunslaughter

. . .

Why do bands compile long discographies? By long, I don’t mean, say, 10 full-lengths, a typical figure for a long-running band. I mean the ridiculous triple-digit numbers that bands put up these days.

The Encyclopaedia Metallum Discordance has a sorting filter called “Bands by Release Count”. It shows that Deep Purple has the most releases of any “metal” band, with 221. Agathocles is second with 193, while Motörhead is third with 161. Releases include everything discrete that a band puts out: demos, singles, splits, albums.

Major label bands like Metallica and Iron Maiden compile long discographies because several singles typically accompany each album. Add cash cows like compilations and live albums, and it’s unsurprising that big names put up big numbers discography-wise.

But for underground bands, such numbers baffle me. If releases come out in response to demand, where is the demand for 193 Agathocles releases? Are people actually collecting them all? Can they tell the releases apart? Could the band remember enough songs to take requests live? Why do 193 Agathocles releases even exist?

. . .

Agathocles: 25 years, 193 releases

. . .

Perhaps a more interesting measure than sheer length of discography is the length of discography over time. Longer-running bands naturally have more chances to amass a discography. But which ones are cranking them out like Catholic babies?

Using the Discordance’s list, I divided the number of releases by the number of years that a band has been in existence. I’ll call the result “prolificness”. Below are the 10 most prolific “metal” bands. The first number is the number of releases, the second is the number of years in existence, and the third is their quotient, average releases per year.

1. Zarach ‘Baal’ Tharagh: 125/10 = 12.5
2. Senmuth: 75/6 = 12.4
3. Akromusto: 47/6 = 7.83
4. Njiqahdda: 39/5 = 7.8
5. Agathocles: 193/25 = 7.72
6. Uruk-Hai: 79/11 = 7.18
7. Unholy Grave: 120/17 = 7.06
8. Heirdrain: 53/8 = 6.63
9. Melvins: 108/17 = 6.35
10. Nadja: 49/8 = 6.13

The trends are clear. Two bands are grindcore (Agathocles, Unholy Grave), while the rest are one- and two-person bands that play mostly ambient  metal. The one exception is Melvins, whose eternal job is to be the exception.

Several conclusions are easy to draw. First, one- and two-person bands don’t have the checks and balances of normal bands. No one else is there to tell them their stuff sucks. So they release everything. With recording technology so cheap these days, it’s easy to press up 50 CD-R’s of a demo. Second, ambient sounds and lo-fi black metal and grindcore are probably too easy to make. You don’t see death or thrash metal bands racking up huge discographies. (Except for Nunslaughter – can anyone tell their 105 releases apart?) Finally, of these prolific artists, arguably none are “real” metal. Perhaps “real” metal does not lend itself to pumping out product.

. . .

Boris: 18 years, 60 releases

. . .

As an editor of writers (including myself), I understand the inability of artists to self-edit. However, I don’t understand why fans indulge such behavior. When Justin Broadrick flooded the market with Jesu EP’s and splits, people still bought them, even though they were thin on ideas and inspiration. Why do people obsess over demos and splits today? Twenty years ago, demos or splits might have been valid artistic statements. But today there are so many that say so little that I can’t help but see a baseball card-type of collect-them-all mentality at work.

From a market standpoint, this is fine. If artists put out crap, and people still buy it, who am I to care? But from an artistic standpoint, prolificness is terrible. The market is over-saturated, artists lose mystique because they’re never “away”, and bands forsake significant artistic statements in favor of drips and drabs.

Playing devil’s advocate to what I’ve said, however, I can see reasons for drips and drabs. Artistically, the EP is a good format for bands to explore ideas that might not be appropriate for a full-length. Financially, drips and drabs might be better ways to sell albums nowadays. If you have 10 songs that you want to sell for $10, people are more likely to buy them if they come in two packets of 5 songs for $5. Even though the total price is the same, psychologically $5 is less menacing than $10. And if you break up the 10 songs into three 7″s, call them Parts 1, 2, and 3, and give each 7″ a different vinyl color – people will climb over each other to collect them all.

One’s views on this might depend on one’s age. I grew up with albums, so those will always be the measures of bands to me. My favorite bands don’t have very long discographies because they collect their songs onto albums. Kids today pull music from everywhere – an iTunes single here, a blogspot download there. Their hard drives are wild assortments of folders, bitrates, and ID3 tags. This is distasteful to me, but maybe it doesn’t matter. Is the music good or not? That’s probably the only question I should be asking.

Despite the preconceptions that come with supergroups, Twilight’s Monument to Time End (Southern Lord, 2010) isn’t merely a catwalk for each member to flaunt his best features. This sophomore release suggests this group might have more to offer than one-hit wonders.

Written almost entirely by Blake Judd (Nachtmystium), Wrest (Leviathan), and N. Imperial (Krieg), sounds from Twilight’s black metal past are prevalent from the get-go. Yet the addition of Stavros Giannopoulos (The Atlas Moth), Aaron Turner (Isis), and Sanford Parker (Minsk) eases this album into warmer waters. Guitars layer gently against darker rhythms. Percussion slices through the layers in the same steady and somewhat catchy way Wrest fashioned Leviathan. When the synth and noise effects aren’t seeking coverage beneath foggy terrain, they add cute nuances during quiet parts. But the real strength comes from the cavernous depth of the bass and vocals.

“Convulsions in Wells of Fever”
[Audio clip: view full post to listen]

These qualities forge Twilight as a grandfather type that speaks wise words we might have heard before. “Convulsions in Wells of Fever” and “Decaying Observer” say listen to me, damn it, as echoing vocals and endless riffs swarm and crash. When they take their time, Twilight make their nuances count, as in “8,000 Years” and “The Catastrophe Exhibition”. Imperial’s vocals fizz and echo as guitars ripple from steady riffs to playful fills.

Although Monument to Time End lacks the frostbitten earnestness of black metal’s most primitive, it shows how the genre is more open to artistic vision and broad interpretation. As expected of production mastermind Parker, the tones are balanced and polished, making this record appear flawless. At times, it’s easy to forgive the music’s long-windedness. The real test for Twilight is how they measure up live, which they still have yet to prove. Until then, Monument to Time End will please those willing to escape into less cryptic but more atmospheric realms.

“8,000 Years”
[Audio clip: view full post to listen]

Amazon (CD)
The End (CD)
Southern Lord (CD)
Amie St. (MP3, currently less than $2)

. . .

Imagine if someone videotaped you at work. The camera would sit several feet in front of you, and it would not move. It would sit there silently, recording your actions. If you are reading this at work, it would record you doing that. And if you can read this at your work, the rest of your work day probably wouldn’t be terribly exciting visually.

If, however, you travel for work, in an RV with your wife/bandmate, and each day you play drums in a different town, your work might be more exciting to watch. That’s the case for Jucifer, who played at Maryland Deathfest this year. Canadian company Handshake Inc. is making a documentary about MDF (see first part of making-of account here), and it set up a “drum cam” in front of Edgar Livengood’s kit for Jucifer’s set. You can see the result above.

. . .

This video is fascinating for several reasons. The first is the vantage point: directly in front of the kick drum. This is not a common location for concert photography or videography. Usually if you are in this location, security will remove you from it rather quickly.

Second is how still the camera is. Post-MTV, if we see a video of a band playing, we expect editorial intrusion: cuts, pans, zooms. There’s none of that here. The camera just sits there, watching Livengood play. So we have to watch him play. There’s nothing else to look at – which is fine. Livengood is not a flashy drummer. When he twirls his sticks, it seems more for his own amusement than for show. But it’s still interesting to watch him work, partly because our gaze is so singular, and he can’t do anything about it. We are visually eavesdropping.

The fact that we can only see Livengood creates a negative space, both visually and sonically. His wife Amber Valentine is singing and playing guitar. We can hear her but not see her. Usually she is the band’s visual focus, but here she is just an offscreen presence. She resides in no visual context; her guitar and her voice – which makes some rather amusing sounds – seem to come from nowhere. Lacking a visual connection to a human enabler, the amp cabinets in the background might as well be mute.

Finally, and surprisingly, the camera moves. After Jucifer’s set ends, about five and a half minutes into the video, a Handshake Inc. operator picks up the camera, hoists it above himself, and walks through the crowd. Suddenly we have the vantage point of a 10 foot-tall person. Again, we are visually eavesdropping. The camera moves through the crowd unnoticed (see if you can spot people in bands, people you know, or even yourself if you attended) until it confronts a fellow at face level. (Note his good taste in wearing a Ludicra shirt.)

. . .

Two visual precedents come to mind. The first concerns the stillness of the camera. In 1967, Michael Snow – another experimental Canadian filmmaker, incidentally – released a seminal “short” film called Wavelength. I put “short” in quotes because the film is 45 minutes of a verrrrrry slow zoom into the space of a room. (Some edits were involved, but the net effect is continuous.) If you have a short attention span, the film might make you want to leap out of your skin. In a way, it could be considered a horror film. The villain is the inexorable march of time, and the victim is the viewer. Watch it below, if you dare.

. . .

Wavelength (1967)

Click here to view the embedded video.

. . .

The second concerns an overhead flying camera. It is a beautiful shot in La Haine (1995), in which the camera floats away from a window, trailing hip-hop beats and Edith Piaf’s voice over the suburbs of Paris. The shot begins at 1:10 in the clip below.

. . .

La Haine (1995)

Click here to view the embedded video.

. . .

. . .

Jucifer, as always, are on the road. See upcoming tour dates here.

I rarely find death metal “bad-ass”. It’s not a quality I require from the music, since it has not made “bad-ass” a priority. Maybe Krisiun is bad-ass, or Arise-era Sepultura. But death metal is mostly too nerdy to be bad-ass. It has other concerns, like being necro, epic, offensive, or technical. None of these really resonate with me. Satan, mythology, gore, and sweep picking are just not germane to my life.

The law is, however. For the last two years, I’ve lived in locales with heavy police presences. Guns and crime are real to me – which is why Criminal Element makes my hairs stand on end. The only constants in the band have been vocalist Vince Matthews and his lyrical obsession with the streets. Imagine gangsta rap minus the misogyny, foul language, and celebration of crime – Matthews’ criminals are not heroes – plus some, well, bad-ass metal.

“Fake and a Fraud”
[Audio clip: view full post to listen]

You might wonder what I mean by “bad-ass”. It’s one of those things that shouldn’t be explained. But to try to break it down – it’s attitude. It’s swagger with the skills to back it up. Criminal Element has both. Its lineups have been Matthews plus his pals – a big deal, since his pals play in bands like Suffocation, Dying Fetus, and Misery Index. The current lineup includes Mark Kloeppel and Adam Jarvis of Misery Index; this EP features guest vocals from Jason Netherton of Misery Index and John Gallagher of Dying Fetus.

Thus, Criminal Element kind of sounds like those bands. Early on, it was grindcore-influenced, but this EP has big dollops of thrash. Serrated machine-gun riffs trade off with half-speed beatdowns. A few fleet leads add zing up top. The performances are tight but raw: virtuosos taking a break from their day gigs to let loose. If the New York thrash/hardcore vibe of Anthrax/S.O.D./Nuclear Assault got a death metal update, Criminal Element might be the result. Matthews’ throaty bark even sounds like Roger Miret at times.

Bullets and riffs fly hard and fast in this 15-minute firefight. It needs no underworld, because earth is hell enough. Survival is the end, and being bad-ass is the means.

“Crime & Punishment”
[Audio clip: view full post to listen]

The End (CD)
CM Distro (CD)
Relapse (CD, shirt)
Amazon (MP3, $4.45)

Maryland Deathfest: The Movie, Official Trailer

. . .

In filmmaking, the 180 degree rule states that the camera should not cross an imaginary axis running through the scene from left to right. David Hall crosses axes all the time. His company Handshake Inc., which has directed videos for Today Is the Day, Hail of Bullets, Jucifer, and other bands, breaks filmmaking rules left and right. Among those is how to, well, make films. In this series of posts, Hall details the process of making documentaries about two editions of Maryland Deathfest.

. . .

The Making of Maryland Deathfest: The Movies, Pt. 1

“So they love the guy in the gold pants and hate your movie?”

That was a friend of mine’s response to a conversation we had on my return from Maryland Deathfest VIII this year. I was telling him about some of the negative responses to my film Maryland Deathfest: The Movie, and the overwhelmingly positive response to Pentagram’s set (and Bobby Liebling’s gold pants) at MDF this year. To be fair, Pentagram was amazing (if you missed it, don’t fret – we’ll be releasing a live DVD of the set, complete with an amazing interview we did with Bobby in Baltimore), and my film may not have been what some folks were expecting – which brings me to the subject of this article.

I’d like to talk about the movie we just released, Maryland Deathfest: The Movie, and compare and contrast it with the movie we will be releasing in roughly a year’s time – Maryland Deathfest VIII: The Movie, the “sequel” we shot at this year’s, eighth annual Maryland Deathfest. I’m going to compare the two movies’ production methods, artistic and technical choices, and post-production execution.

For those of you who don’t know (and for those of you who do, this will be a good refresher), there are typically three stages of production to any film: pre-production, production, and post-production. There’s also a stage called “development” that comes before pre-production, and a stage called “delivery” that comes after post-production. But to make things simpler, I’m going to talk about development with pre-production, and delivery with post-production.

Pre-production

Pre-production is just what it sounds like. It covers all the stuff that has to be organized, scheduled, thought about, planned, and prepared before the cameras start to roll. On a narrative film, this typically includes location scouting, prop and set preparation, art department stuff, the hiring of crew members, casting, scheduling, philosophical discussion, technical tests, and basically anything else that has to be locked down before you show up on set. On a documentary film, pre-production may or may not be as involved as a narrative film, depending on how it is being made and the scope of the subject matter.

Before pre-production starts (pre-production is an official stage of a movie’s production – people start getting paid, work gets done, the troops are rallied, and the movie is to be considered “in production”), there is a stage called development. Development varies from project to project, but it is basically the stage where a small group of people who represent the project (usually the writer, director, and producer; sometimes it’s just the producer) see if they can get the thing made. Funds are secured, stars are attached, script is perfected, and dreams are dreamt.

. . .

MDF: The Movie, Crew 2009

. . .

Because we fund our own films, Handshake Inc. sort of merges development and pre-production together. For Maryland Deathfest: The Movie, we were in development and pre-production right up until the day before MDF started last year. In fact, for the first movie, we actually sort of technically worked on pre-production elements before we worked on development.

The first piece of the puzzle was getting the rights, permission, and blessing of the festival promoters. Around August of 2008, I emailed Ryan Taylor (one half of the team that promotes the fest – the other half being Evan Harting) and expressed my desire to make a documentary about the film. Four months later, on the eve of the Presidential election, I met with Ryan in Baltimore (I was there with Today Is the Day screening my film Axis of Eden) and we chatted about making the film. It was a pretty basic conversation. He and Evan wanted a film about the fest to be made, and I wanted to make one. We negotiated the terms and that was it.

Development had officially begun.

Pre-production 2008/2009

Due to the logistics involved in making the movie (three days, 3000+ fans, over 55 bands, two stages – one indoor, one outdoor), my partner Dave Cardoso and I had to then jump straight into stuff normally reserved for pre-production: how many cameras would we need, how many shooters (camera operators), what kind of cameras, how would we record sound.

Because we had more ideas than money, we were really limited in terms of gear. Normally on a production, you’d have an equipment budget, call up the local camera rental place, and book what you need. We had no cash and we needed gear, so we looked to our friends who worked in video and asked really, really nicely. Between all the people we knew, we were able to lock down two high-def cameras, three professional standard-def cameras and a couple of camcorders. Luckily, we were able to make arrangements with the soundman who runs the audio for MDF to bring in some hard drives and gear and record the audio for a rock bottom price. And luckily at this point in pre-production, I was able to get a new credit card. Suddenly we had $5,000 to play with. I immediately ordered tapes, booked our hotel, and left about two grand for gas, food, and emergencies.

Confident we had enough of the pieces in place to actually make the movie we wanted, Dave C and I started contacting the bands playing MDF to ask for permission to film them. Technically, you need anyone’s permission to film them, and since we would also be recording audio, we needed permission to capture that, too. Ryan and Evan supplied most of the contacts, and then ones they didn’t have we tracked down through MySpace and band web pages.

By the time we got to MDF VII, we had been in touch with all the bands except for Cattle Decapitation and Napalm Death. Also, out of all the bands playing, the only ones who respectfully declined were Bolt Thrower, Mayhem, and Deströyer 666. Luckily, I was able to talk with Shane Embury from Napalm and Travis Ryan from Cattle Decapitation at MDF and get their blessing to film. Also, just because we had permission to film the bands didn’t guarantee they’d be in the movie. It’s one thing to get permission to film a band; getting permission to use a band’s song on film is a totally different animal.

. . .

Hall discussing filming with Sigh (Dan Lilker in background)

. . .

So, back to pre-production/development. By this time it was late April. We had been working on the film for close to a year, and Dave C and I hadn’t really had any discussions about what kind of movie we were going to make. We knew we wanted to have at least one performance from each band, but really that was it. So Dave and I went and rented a ton of music-based films and docs and started watching.

After a few films, we popped in Woodstock – the doc about the huge love and music fest that took place in the ’60s in upstate New York. It was evident after the first few minutes that Woodstock had hit on something special. There was no narration, no titles, no hand holding – just pure visual poetry. Over the next few months, we watched Woodstock a bunch of times. It was our inspiration and model for the film we were going to make, and for better or worse, we stuck to that vision to the end. What did that mean for the production of the film? Basically, it meant we choose passion over reason, beauty over technicality, and above all, creativity over convention.

So we had our gear, enough cash for gas and hotel, a crew, and a creative vision. Somehow everything had come together. We left for MDF VII on the day before the pre-party. All told, there were 10 of us, including three interns from the University of Western Ontario.

Production 2009

The border is a real jerk, let me tell you. Crossing into the United States from Canada on any kind of business can lead to problems. If your purpose of going to the States is not simply “on vacation”, you are instantly wrapped in a million red flags, and if you don’t have your story straight, you are in for a world of hurt – as we experienced crossing to Baltimore for MDF VII.

There were seven of us in the van, plus about 30 grand worth of gear. I had done extensive research and spoken with many a U.S. and Canadian Customs Officer before we left, and my homework led me to the conclusion that legally any Canadian citizen can go to the U.S.A. for up to 90 days on business and bring up to $10,000 in property and/or cash with them. That doesn’t mean a Canadian can make money or work or sell those goods while in the States without a visa, but they can conduct business. Since we weren’t getting paid to make the film, and since there were enough of us to cover the spread on the 30 grand in gear, I assumed we would not have any problems. Boy, was I wrong.

The border guards didn’t like all our gear. They didn’t like that we were going to make a movie. They didn’t like that one of our crew members had applied for a work visa nine months ago and been refused. They didn’t like that Dave shook his head at one point while they were screaming at us. And at the end of the day, after 12 hours of being interrogated, they refused us entry and told us if we tried entering at any other border and got caught, we’d be arrested.

So that was it. Denied entry. No U.S.A. No Maryland. No Baltimore. No Deathfest. And no movie. We were all pretty devastated. Seven months of pre-production for nothing.

. . .

The crew waiting at the border

. . .

I let defeat enter my mind for about three seconds, then cleared my mind, and went back to talk to the border guards one last time. I asked them theoretically what would have to happen for us to get through. We weren’t breaking any laws, and none of us had any criminal records – they were denying us based on suspicions – so there had to be something we could do. One of the guards was in a good mood, I guess, and told me I would have to get a commercial customs bond for all our gear, and then we’d be let in. I had no idea what a commercial customs bond was, but boy did I find out.

After 12 hours of paperwork, emails, phone calls, faxes, and whatever other hoops I had to jump through, we had our bond and headed back to the border. This time when we got there, it was a different set of guards working, and whatever threat the previous guards had seen in us, these new guys saw none. They waved us through without even looking at our paperwork and without so much as a peep in the van. Either way we made it across. We stopped for a quick burger, then drove like a bat out of hell up to Baltimore.

So after a one-day hold-up at the Canada/U.S. border, we made it to Baltimore. We missed the pre-party, but our spirits were still high. I live by the mantra that “every production has at least one major roadblock”, and I was confident that we had gotten our roadblock out of the way early.

TO BE CONTINUED…

. . .

Order Maryland Deathfest: The Movie on DVD

Circle the Wagons, liner notes detail

If we accept that financial reward/incentive is one of the chief ways we assign value to social activities, then the free market is clearly telling us to stop producing bands. Supply is overwhelming, discouraging, depressing, and demand is next to nil. There’s little to no money to be made in making or selling of music. Bands are climbing over each other for an opportunity to give their music away for free. I used to think getting music for free was nifty. Now it’s basically a burden. For one of many compelling accounts of the struggles of a contemporary touring band, see here.

If we also accept that online music criticism has essentially become a buyer’s guide, then website/blog write-ups with “where to buy” links are today’s summary paragraph taped up next to record store’s new releases. Criticism and cash register in the same “space” does not for objectivity make. Especially these days since most blogs and websites eschew negative reviews totally (I’m looking at you, new Nachtmystium record). So if there’s no money in music and we’re writing the buyer’s guide, are we betting on a dying horse? Maybe.

“I Am the Working Class”
[Audio clip: view full post to listen]

Enter Darkthrone, the unabashed buyer’s guide band. Since F.O.A.D. (and maybe earlier… my collection has some mid-period holes), they’ve included a list of “Fenriz’ 10 must-have albums” in the liner notes: obscure thrash, death metal, hardcore, hard rock, etc. that Fenriz likes. I’d imagine they’re not the first band to do this, but like his “Band of the Week” MySpace posts, Fenriz’s liner notes have come to take on a bi-annual column feel. Darkthrone albums appear to be made first and foremost for Darkthrone’s kicks at this point. There’s no point really bashing them or comparing them to older albums because Fenriz and Nocturno Culto don’t care. Humor in music can get slippery and short-circuit attempts at serious analysis, and no one wants to get bent out of shape waxing Christgau over something that amounts to a band in-joke. So while many older fans jumped ship long ago due to a late-career embrace of punk rock and tongue-in-cheek attitude, Darkthrone keeps cranking out albums every couple years, just like they always have.

In interviews, Fenriz has stated one of his most important functions in the metal scene is to recommend good music. Are the top album lists Darkthrone running on creative empty and searching for new ways of relevance, à la Johnny Cash covering NIN and Depeche Mode? Are they embracing the multifaceted potential albums possess as artwork showcase (which I doubt anyone would find fault with lately), fanzine/soapbox, history lesson, credentials list, and promotional outlet? Are they curating an aesthetic of “underground metal” they see as a pantheon larger than themselves? I’m not sure, but I did buy the record, as I do with all music I review. Financial investment encourages the listener to look for the good, if nothing else then for reasons of pride. So proud fuck that I am, I say there are some good songs on Circle the Wagons (Peaceville, 2010). “I Am the Working Class”’s spacious main riff and no-nonsense lyrics about wage labor, is admirable given Fenriz’ job sorting mail and his long-running staunch refusal to play live. Thousands of hardcore bands have written similar songs, but they weren’t turning down offers for package tours and festival shows that would instantly deliver them from 9-5 drudgery. “Black Mountain Totem” has a couple great riffs and shows that even when playing more a HC or NWOBHM style, Darkthrone still manages to sound like Darkthrone.

“Black Mountain Totem”
[Audio clip: view full post to listen]

Bottom line is that Fenriz and Nocturno Culto have dedicated their lives to metal, so who is anyone to tell them when to hang it up? Their longevity and conviction in a lot of ways echoes Motörhead. I don’t have every Motörhead record, but I’m glad they’re still out there kicking ass for all us sinners. Is Circle the Wagons essential listening? Probably not. Is Darkthrone’s continued existence essential to modern metal? Definitely.

Amazon (MP3)
Amazon (CD)
Relapse (CD)
The End (CD)
Peaceville (CD, LP)
Amie St. (MP3, currently less than $4)

Guitarist Paul Ryan writes Origin’s records, but he doesn’t listen to them. He cites two reasons. The first is that common musician’s complaint: recording is so draining that one wants nothing to do with the result. The second: playing live is so much better. He may be right about the first, but he’s definitely right about the second.

I’ve seen Origin play three times. The first was mind-melting. Origin live is a full-on assault by every instrument. Many metal bands attempt this, but few truly take it over the top like Origin. Bassist Mike Flores makes Les Claypool sound like Adam Clayton. If the bass interludes in Seinfeld became a death metal band, it would be Origin.

But it’s not funny stuff. This was clear the second time I saw Origin. My jaw was on the floor the whole time. Drummer John Longstreth projected both power and groove with blastbeats all the way to the balcony where I stood. (The only other drummer I’ve seen who can make blastbeats groove is Pete Sandoval.) While his bandmates have  lived mostly in the Midwest, Ryan lives in San Francisco. I asked him why he doesn’t just find a drummer there. He said that Longstreth was “the guy”: the musical companion one doesn’t have to tell what to play.

“Staring from the Abyss”
[Audio clip: view full post to listen]

This was clear when I saw Origin last week. Ultra Violet Social Club is roomy – it’s like an industrial ski lodge – so the crowd spread out, and I could watch Longstreth up close. At any given time, several people stood stage left with mouths agape just watching him play. Sure, Longstreth is fast. But what makes him special is his rhythms. That might sound strange, since he’s a drummer. But in the high-BPM world of technical death metal, precious few drummers have a sense of rhythm: the ability to create accents and meaning in the blur of blastbeats.

Longstreth does and Longstreth did, plating riffs with armor of rides and crashes. This was no small feat, given that Flores was melting strings with his fingers, and Ryan’s tone was so serrated, it was practically a saw blade. Sweep picking is usually delicate, but Ryan threw down insistent, angry arpeggios. Add an enthusiastic new vocalist named Mica “Maniac” who kept up at a million miles an hour, and the result was like Origin’s album covers: astronomical. I closed my eyes and felt like galaxies were exploding in my head.

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ORIGIN – SUMMER TOUR 2010
Remaining US, EU dates

23.07 Canopy Club – Urbana, IL
24.07 Phoenix Hill Tavern – Louisville, KY
25.07 FuBar (w/Malevolent Creation, Misery Index, All Will Fall) – St. Louis, MO
31.07 Stonehenge Fest – Steenwijk, DK
13.08 Party.San Open Air Festival – Bad Berka, DE
14.08 Brutal Assault Festival – Jaromer, CZ
15.08 Ieper Fest – Ieper, BE
16.08 Matrix – Bochum, DE
17.08 Garage – Saarbrücken, DE
19.08 Szene – Wien, AT
20.08 Summer Breeze Outdoor Festival – Dinkelsbühl, DE
21.08 Mountains of Death – Muotathal, CH

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My favorite photos of Hirax are from when they played San Francisco’s Tidal Wave festival. It’s sunny out, headbangers line the stage, and it’s a hell of a party. Check out the photos – don’t you wish you had been there?

If you’re in the Bay Area this weekend, you can experience the magic again. Tidal Wave fest is this Saturday and Sunday, and the lineup is bonkers.

Saturday features, among others, Abysmal Dawn (I just saw them play – look out for some cool new material), Giant Squid (don’t sleep on their Ichthyologist record from last year), old schoolers Anvil Chorus, and super old schoolers Raven. Raven!!! This looks like a special one-off. Their new album Walk Through Fire is sooo much fun.

Raven – “Against the Grain”
[Audio clip: view full post to listen]

Sunday features blackened thrashers Witchaven, chamber rock outfit Amber Asylum, Vastum (the new band of Leila Abdul-Rauf of Saros/Hammers of Misfortune; she’s not on their demo, but I’ve been digging it anyway – stream and get it here) – and Blind Illusion. What??? And they just put out a new album??? (That takes them off the one-album wonders list.) I’m guessing Larry Lalonde and Les Claypool won’t be in the lineup. But, still…Blind Illusion!

Vastum – “Cruel Sun Rising”
[Audio clip: view full post to listen]

Is this not the most random yet awesome lineup? (Maybe someday I’ll put on Truly Random Fest with Mayhem, Stuck Mojo, and Weekend Nachos as headliners.) And not only is it an all-ages festival, it’s free!

Well, it’s free to get in but certainly not free to put on. Tidal Wave has always run off of donations, and it looks like they need to raise $3700 in the two days until the fest. If you’re attending, or know people who are, or simply want to support metal, donate a few bucks here. Or if you’re a potential advertiser or sponsor, or know of one, contact the email addresses at that link. Again, the donations page is here, with links to the festival’s details.

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Amebix at Hellfest, L-R: Stig, Roy, Rob. Photo by Fin McAteer.

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Amebix are one of those bands who were rarely seen but often cited. They began in 1978 during one of England’s most difficult economic periods, and their music portrayed the era’s dire means through allegories of ancient warrior clans taking arms against giant and nebulous foes. In the process, Amebix also unwittingly helped spearhead the crust punk movement, though apparently they’re not all that thrilled about it.

After over 20 years of inactivity, Rob “The Baron” Miller and his brother Stig have resurrected the band once more, and they plan to reap the benefits of being genre godfathers. They’re touring again, they re-recorded some old classics, and they’ve even got a new album in the works. Rob Miller spent his two-decade break living on the Isle of Skye and becoming a world-class swordsmith, so he’s had a lot of time to think about what Amebix are about and what they need to become.

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What inspired the return of Amebix after such a long period of dormancy?

It was the culmination of the Risen DVD project. There was no intention of playing again on the part of either Stig or I. But we decided to try and re-record some songs as an epitaph, really, to complete the cycle, and see how they would have sounded if we had access to better equipment.

Roy [Mayorga, drummer] joined the band in order to complete the project, but we all just seemed to gel together so well. The music was better than ever, and it really made us have to reconsider the position again. Being given the chance to play good venues to great crowds was a sort of vindication of having spent all our time in relative obscurity the first time around.

By the same token, what made you decide to re-record your classic songs? Did you have any reservations about offending the purists?

We wanted to summarize the “career” by choosing songs from each of the phases of the band, with “Winter” representing the 1981 Bristol scene, “Arise” being the emergence of Amebix from the City and into a more cohesive group, and I always loved “Chain Reaction” as an intense powerful song with a very positive lyric.

I can see how purists may prefer the originals; it’s the same with any band. Old Sabbath is great – primitive as hell, though, compared to subsequent recordings. But we have really opened the songs out and breathed new life into them, I think. [Ed. note: The result is the Redux EP; sample below, ordering information here.] I don’t think we will be returning to any other old material after this. That was an exercise that has been completed to our satisfaction.

“Winter” from Redux
[Audio clip: view full post to listen]

At this point, Amebix seem to be cited by metal bands as often as punk bands. Monolith in particular seemed to be a nod to both sides of the fence. Aside from a defiant attitude, what would you say that punk and metal have in common? How is that gap bridged?

At the time we were playing heavy music to a predominantly punk audience, it was really not very well received. It’s only really in retrospect that I became aware that we did have an influence. When I disappeared to Skye I didn’t listen to any music, so bands like Sepultura or Neurosis were totally unknown [to me] until fairly recently.

I think what we achieved that unites the two camps is a musical intensity coupled with an intelligent lyrical approach, and the ability to engage people within a landscape.

What do you think of modern metal? Do you listen to any of it?

I don’t listen to much new stuff. I really should. What does turn me off is the similarity of a lot of bands, and the reluctance to try new ideas. The punk scene in the ’80s became bogged down with a sort of self-censorship and as a consequence lost the original impetus, which was to manifest whatever you want. I would really like to hear a newer band that turns my head around, and certainly they will be out there. I just need to get more engaged with looking for new music and not be so stuck in my ways. The band’s content has always delved into bygone eras of the warrior ethos as much as political or social issues.

From where do you derive this inspiration? Does being Scottish have anything to do with it?

I am not Scottish, just through ancestry, but we grew up with a gunsmith as our father and were always surrounded by militaria. I also had a great enthusiasm for history as a child and a love of old stories and myths.

Additionally, would it be accurate to say that Amebix’s fixation on the primordial is a metaphor for surviving and overcoming in the modern age?

That is a fair comment. I think our ideal was to put people back in touch with their more instinctual nature, and the bigger world of the unconscious, too; to write stories that would act as visualizations and hopefully bring people towards a personal empowerment.

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These same lyrical ideals are part of your daily life as a swordsmith. How did you get into that line of work? What is your favorite part of the process? It seems like it would be very satisfying.

It’s a great job. I never meant to do this as work, it was just a line of inquiry after I disappeared about 20 years ago. I just turned up on the Island and decided I wanted to know how to forge a Sword. I think it is psychologically the same as the work with Amebix – bringing to life vital symbols from the unconscious that resonate on a primal level.

The sword is very important in this respect. It became enlightening to realize that the process was alchemical, too, and that it uses all four elements. To forge a sword works on many levels, depending how you wish to engage with it. I love the whole of the job, apart from grinding which is tedious, but i do get to be a jewelry maker, leatherworker, and woodworker for all the different aspects of the work, so I’m constantly learning and never bored.

Your band is regarded as one of the godfathers of the crust punk movement. Obviously, you’re not living in squats or garbage picking food anymore. With that in mind, do you still feel a sense of connection to that life and the crust movement in general?

There was no “crust” genre when we were first around. We referred to ourselves as being crusty, really in appearance, and because of the lack of rudimentary facilities when living on the streets. It was strange to find that we had been classified as a particular genre in our absence. I am not happy about this at all. It seems that Amebix becomes “ghettoized” by association, when we were not living as a fashion statement. It was just how things were. I am aware that a lot of people are also put off even listening to the band because of this association, which is not good. Amebix is Amebix, as Motörhead is Motörhead or Killing Joke are Killing Joke.

Amebix has just announced a new album in the works. What can fans expect in terms of similarities and differences between the new and old material?

I hope that people will be disturbed. So far we have six recorded songs which are really strong, and the album looks to be taking shape as a real listening work. It will require engagement from the listener, not a shuffle selection. It has moments of delicate melody as well as paint-stripping ferocity. Lyrically it’s more focused than before. We are unhindered by not having to answer to anyone. I hope this will stir up a lot of reaction.

Given the current state of the world with global financial failures and precarious ecological circumstances, would you say the band is more relevant than ever?

Perhaps. Maybe we need to re-evaluate our lives at a basic level when times are harder. Amebix always arrive like a breath from the Angel of Death.

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