My Favourite Albums of 2019

It’s time once again for me to talk about my favourite albums of the last year and frankly it’s been a little bit of a disappointment compared to previous entries – for some reason I found it quite difficult to find good music in 2019.

There were some really big releases from my favourite bands – Nailed to Obscurity, Swallow the Sun, Opeth, The Menzingers, Baroness, Pelican and more – but they didn’t quite hit the spot in the same way the best albums did. My absolute favourites were characterised by stellar production, distinct and memorable atmosphere and – perhaps most importantly – the ability to know when to stop. Nothing here outstays its welcome.

Speaking of brevity, there were however some fantastic EPs – namely the soulful post-rock influenced singer-songwriter A.A. Williams, the fun pop covers of normally Deftones-influenced VEXES, female-fronted indie rock newcomers Petrov, hardcore-turned catchy shoegazers Hundredth, and the groovy kraut-rock influenced explorations of Elder.

Since I’m talking about albums though, this year it’s a Top 8 rather than a Top 10, a subversive attack on the norms of mainstream music discourse. Let’s hope 2020 can bring a full list!

Listen to any of my picks, including EPs, on my Spotify playlist here.

 

Honourable Mention

Cult of Luna – A Dawn to Fear

Just missing out on my list is this 79-minute monolith from Swedish post metal act Cult of Luna. Unfortunately it doesn’t quite hold my attention throughout, but there are some very good moments and the whole album is massive and sounds like the end of the world. Particular intriguing is the use of Hammond organ on songs like ‘The Silent Man’ and the Western-feeling guitar textures on ‘Lights on the Hill’. Essentially, CoL really nailed the atmosphere, it’s just a bit long and some songs don’t stand out as much as the highlights.

Check out: The Silent Man

 

Best of 2019

Falls of Rauros – Patterns in Mythology

Falls of Rauros aren’t usually my cup of tea as far as black metal bands are concerned, but somehow they’ve hit it out the park on this record.

Highly melodic and full of winding, triumphant guitar leads, Patterns of Mythology is far away from the frost-bitten recorded-through-a-potato production of the original wave of Scandinavian black metal. It’s polished, shiny and – dare I say it – relaxing? Gorgeous analogue production provides plenty of dynamics, prominent bass that’s more than just a sub-audible rumble, and a satisfying, naturally roomy drum sound. It’s a delight through headphones. What’s more, at a brisk 45 minutes, including a short intro and mid-album break, it doesn’t wear out its welcome.

A weak point is the vocals: they’re not interesting enough to stand out among the genre’s best growlers and they don’t always gel with what the music is doing. However, they’re mixed fairly low in an album which is heavily instrumental, so they’re not too much of a distraction.

Check out: New Inertia

 

Downfall of Gaia – Ethic of Radical Finitude

Also taking black metal as a starting point, Downfall of Gaia’s latest uses melody to be dark, despairing and mournful.

Showing an adventurousness which differentiates them from other face-pummelers, Downfall of Gaia use piano, spoken-word passages and ambient elements to create a continuing sense of dread-filled momentum. Sustained notes of keyboard, synth and guitar are the glue that holds the album together, providing a way to transition between tracks and a seamless experience as one continuous piece of music. Like Falls of Rauros, Downfall of Gaia love to play around with dynamics, knowing exactly when to dial up the heaviness and when to slow down and provide a break before building up to a crescendo. Also like Falls of Rauros, the album is just 40 minutes and 6 songs, a surprise in a genre which often likes to go progressive with its album lengths.

Lastly, I can’t talk about this album without mentioning the brilliant drumming. The sound is dry and huge, with cymbal work brought to the fore, and the playing itself is technical and peppered with intricate fills and blastbeats – but never overplayed.

Check out: We Pursue the Serpent of Time

 

Cartographs – Wilt and Blossom

A new band with a stunning debut, I hope to see Cartographs go far.

Cartographs take the watery, ethereal guitars of shoegaze and counterpoint it with hardcore-influenced screams, drenching everything in a reverb that makes it sound distant but no less powerful. Apparently they recorded in a church. Wilt and Blossom sounds best when the band allows themselves to stretch out, as in the 10-minute epics ‘Through the Garden Gate’ and ‘Blossom Under Leaves’. These songs feature gorgeous, intricate introductions and mid-sections which drape the listener in walls of clean guitar. Meanwhile, ‘More String Than Pearls’ takes an almost commercial approach with a discernible chorus – a rarity in my favourite metal!

Taken as a whole, Wilt and Blossom can sound a bit homogenous as the band has their formula and sticks to it. Here’s hoping for a bit more experimentation on the next one.

Check out: Through the Garden Gate

 

Dreadnought – Emergence

With Emergence, prog-metal band Dreadnought have created a winding and twisting epic.

Though the runtime is just 45 minutes, this record goes through so many moods that it feels much longer. Blistering right out the gate with the intricate percussion of ‘Besieged’, the slow and mysterious ‘Still’ follows, an interlude of sorts which showcases the vocal talents of singer/guitarist/flute player Kelly Schilling, who often harmonises with vocalist/keyboardist Lauren Vieria, and whose vocals have an old-fashioned, folky feel to them which bring to mind 70s-style prog and occult rock.

Slow-downs like this happen throughout, such as in the middle of the monstrous ‘Pestilent’ or the blissed-out intro of closer ‘The Waking Realm’. The record journeys through multiple genres including doom, black metal, jazz and classical/chamber, most noticeable in the heavy use of piano which contrasts the doomy, crunchy guitars. Although a little hotly mastered, the clear production showcases every instrument including audible, dancing bass and instantly recognisable, intricate drumming. In short, a progressive treat if you like long song lengths and surprising genre combinations.

Check out: Pestilent

 

Inter Arma – Sulphur English

A huge favourite of mine returns with another evolution of their signature blend of doom, black and death metal.

Like the flaming tree that adorns its distinctive cover, Sulphur English is a dry and intense slow-burn journey through modern metal. At times driving, other times ritualistic and folky, the sound is always powerful and the riffs molten. Sulphur English is a much less friendly listen than the band’s last record Paradise Gallows, though respite from the onslaught comes in the middle of the album in the form of the atmospheric ‘Stillness’, a slow, somewhat acoustic joint which demonstrates singer Mike Parparo’s improved clean vocals and builds to an explosive yet controlled climax.

Tribalistic drumming propels the record, letting loose when required with massive fills and blastbeats and hanging back for space when the guitars are slower and sludgier. The band’s commitment to repetitiveness and willingness to stay on the same riff will put many off, but for me this adds to a hypnotic and engrossing atmosphere.

Check out: Stillness

 

MONO – Nowhere Now Here

A new drummer brings MONO a renewed sense of power.

Japanese instrumental post-rock giants MONO are not normally a band I pay much attention to. I’ve tried some of their most renowned albums and for some reason just can’t connect with them. There’s something about their latest record which works for me though. Their new drummer is bigger and brasher than the previous one; his snare punches like Bonham’s and his cymbals explode through the waves of noisy guitar, especially on the standout ‘Sorrow’. Other highlights include the shaky yet charming vocals of Breathe and the devastating piano-led mourn of Parting. Suffused with emotion and extremely dynamic, Nowhere Now Here is a journey of depth and beauty.

Check out: Sorrow

 

Insomnium – Heart Like a Grave

Insomnium manage a lot of variety within the melodic death metal template.

Heart Like a Grave moves ably between blistering double kick riffs and soft piano and acoustic melodies, best exemplified by the epic ‘Pale Morning Star’. Other tracks like ‘Mute Is My Sorrow’ demonstrate the catchy Gothenburg riffing the genre is most famous for, while ‘Valediction’ and ‘Heart Like a Grave’ feature sparing use of clean vocals by new member and guitarist Jani Liimatainen providing a welcome contrast to the growls of bassist/vocalist Niilo Sevänen.

The album ends on a satisfying note with the instrumental ‘Karelia’ unless you have the bonus track version which includes extra instrumental pieces: an acoustic version of the main parts of ‘Pale Morning Star’ and a synth version of ‘Karelia’ named ‘Karelia 2049’ – a reference for all you movie heads out there. Heart Like a Grave, although serious, is far less dark and doomy than the band’s previous efforts, making it a surprisingly light listen for this kind of metal.

Check out: Heart Like a Grave

 

PUP – Morbid Stuff

A fun record for losers.

It wouldn’t be a list of mine without something that isn’t metal, and this year’s pick is the third record from these Canadian punks. Although they’ve always been a fairly easy listen as far as the genre is concerned, with Morbid Stuff, PUP moves towards even more radio-friendly waters exemplified by big-budget production and the poppy melodies of bangers like ‘Kids’. Lyrically, the album continues to examine the band’s favourite themes of mental health and relationships, particular the ideas of depression, nihilism and reaching a breaking point, as signified by track number 9, the almost metal ‘Full Blown Meltdown’. It’s never been more fun to admit that you’re ‘maxed out’ or to tell someone they’re not ‘special’ because they’re ‘sad again’. It may not be a healthy anger but it’s a liberating one.

My favourite track, ‘Scorpion Hill’, is a triumph in storytelling and texture about a man losing his job and the strain it has on his family. Beginning with a slow, folky intro before speeding up to a driving gallop, it reaches a climax in both the music and the storytelling when the protagonist’s partner makes a shocking discovery, at which point it dissolves back to jangly chords and accordion. It’s a full journey in just 5 minutes. Showing the range the band has, the album concludes with the quiet, reflective ‘City’ – until the total noise that kicks in after 2 minutes reminds us that it’s a punk album.

Check out: Scorpion Hill of course!

Film Review: Old Suffolk Boys

Old Suffolk Boys is a documentary about reconnecting with the past, looking back at a different time, and the allure of home. Our subject is John Holder, a veteran bluegrass musician who, as we learn from the old TV performance that opens the film, reached a certain level of fame with his band by the 1980s. Now an accomplished illustrator in Cambridge, the film follows John as he returns to his hometown in Suffolk and reconnects with old friends to discuss how things used to be.

John is an engaging and friendly subject who sets the scene perfectly for us with a number of anecdotes and explanations as he re-enters the village of Badwell Ash for the first time in a long time. We understand how this part of the countryside has its own feel and character to it and just what a special place it holds in John’s heart.

The remainder of the time we spend meeting John’s friends and their shared experiences tell us about the past: of growing up without technology, of finding that language and what’s acceptable has changed, and of how American culture creeped into their lives and influenced them from an early age. There are a number of moments where America is either mentioned or eluded to, and for me these were the most interesting parts because they go some way to explaining John and his friends’ interest in bluegrass, a genre which originates in the USA.

As our 15 minutes is nearly up, the film concludes with what we’ve all been waiting for: a performance with John’s old bandmates. Director Flow West sets this to a well-composed montage of images from around the village, including some horses dressed in American-style stars and stripes. There’s that connection to America again.

What I saw of Old Suffolk Boys was a short tidbit, enough to whet my appetite for the longer 90-minute cut. It left me with many questions. Who are these folks and what is their connection to John? How did John get into bluegrass? What made John leave Suffolk when many of his friends have stayed there all their lives? I’m excited to find out about John’s musical education, hear more stories and meet more characters. Here’s hoping for a full release soon.

Old Suffolk Boys is currently in the process of being submitted to festivals; you can read more about it here. It was produced by Louis Holder, who also produced the short film “A Live Broadcast” which I reviewed here.

My Favourite Albums of 2018

What makes a great album? I pondered this question more than ever before while trying to decide what records made the cut this year because there was so much that I enjoyed. 2018 was especially strong on new discoveries that I found by following community recommendations or through picks on my Spotify Discover Weekly playlists. So here’s my four runners up, followed by my favourite ten rock and metal releases of 2018.

Listen to any of my picks on my Spotify playlist here

 

Runners Up

Khemmis – Desolation

2016’s Hunted was one of my favourite classic style metal albums of that year and Khemmis more or less deliver the goods again here. The vocals are more developed, soaring high above riff after riff, but the production is a little too clean for my tastes; I would have liked more fuzz.

 

Hamferd – Tamsins likam

This album sounds like being delivered to your grave and I’m all for it. This Faroe Islands unit deliver a thick atmosphere of doomy, icy riffs and gothic strings topped off by an excellent and versatile vocalist. It just narrowly missed out on my top ten.

 

Svalbard – It’s Hard to Have Hope

UK unknowns burst forth with post-hardcore intensity and punk-like passion, delivering diatribes on contemporary issues like feminism and the graduate workplace. I see a strong future for them if they can develop the vocals a bit more.

 

Amorphis – Queen of Time

Finland’s finest produce their best album in a while by mixing things up with intricately arranged choirs and instruments like the saxophone. It’s a bit longer than it needs to be but still a very enjoyable listen.

 

Best of 2018

Rolo Tomassi – Time Will Die and Love Will Bury It

Genre-hopping post-hardcore act Rolo Tomassi have been creating music for a while now, and their previous release Grievances would no doubt have ended up on my 2016 albums of the year list if I’d discovered it then – I heard it the following year instead. Time Will Die… sees the band reigning in their crazier tendencies while continuing to push themselves to explore new territory, creating their most consistent experience yet.

After a keyboard-soaked instrumental intro, the band introduce their intentions to produce something different with the highly radio-friendly, Paramore-esque ‘Aftermath’, before taking a hard left-turn into frantic hardcore with ‘Rituals’. The rest of the album is a careful balance of these ideas: huge poppy choruses, agitated riffing and sunny synths, banshee screams and passionate cleans, things which shouldn’t necessarily work together but somehow do. Particularly impressive are the album’s three longest tracks which allow the band to stretch themselves and provide a rest from the more chaotic shorter segments.

Cathartic and anthemic, dark but triumphant, nothing touches the perfect flow of this record from track to track and there is no question that it is my favourite album of the year.

The best bit: Too many to list, the entire thing.

 

A Perfect Circle – Eat The Elephant

It’s been a long time since this band’s two excellent releases as part of the alternative rock scene of the 2000s, and although their latest record has been met with mixed responses, I really like the more piano-led approach going on here. Sure, if they’d stuck to their more guitar-oriented sound of the past it would have pleased some fans, but it would also have sounded out of place in a world where, let’s face it, rock music just doesn’t have the same commercial appeal as it used to. So APC have moved on, pushing themselves to create a different work that still sounds like them. The final track is repetitive and irritating, but that doesn’t take away from the varied and textured journey that has been created here.

The best bit: Maynard James Keenan’s vocals at the end of ‘Feathers’, which are complemented only by bass and piano.

 

YOB – Our Raw Heart

Portland-based doom metal band YOB’s last release, the critically acclaimed Clearing the Path to Ascend, was one of my favourite discoveries of 2014, especially its final track, the surprisingly melodic Marrow. Here, bandleader Mike Scheidt mines the same musical DNA to create the album’s standout masterpiece, ‘Beauty Through Fallen Leaves’. Inspired by the near-death experience he had upon contracting a rare infection, Mike and the band have created a passionate ode to life in all its complexities. Heavy, thoughtful and meditative, Our Raw Heart is not an easy listen, requiring patience, but this patience is rewarded with a rich and moving experience.

The best bit: The transition from the held note at the end of ‘Lungs Reach’ to the clean picking of ‘Beauty Through Fallen Leaves’.

 

Sylvaine – Atoms Aligned, Coming Undone

Sylvaine is one of a number of artists who has taken the black-metal-by-way-of-shoegaze approach of genre innovators Alcest while still maintaining her own identity. With her second album she further refines her sound, creating something more streamlined than her debut. Atoms Aligned, Coming Undone is an emotional and varied listen, moving ably between the heavy and the light while retaining a consistent atmosphere. The intricate instrumentation is a joy to listen to, helped immensely by an excellent and clear production job which allows the listener to fully focus on the sonics: the pounding basslines, the meaty drums and the angelic, layered vocals.

The best bit: The final, mournful riff which closes out ‘Mørklagt’.

 

Slow Crush – Aurora

Slow Crush are Belgian newcomers who take a classic 90s shoegaze sound and quite simply execute it very, very well. As one would expect from the genre, the guitars are thick and meaty, drenching everything in a layer of thick reverb, while the soothing vocals, beautifully sung by frontwoman Isa Holliday, are mixed just below this so as to be clearly audible but not quite distinguishable word-for-word. Aurora works as an album because it knows when to step back and focus on slower, more dreamy atmospheres and wonderful wavering tremolos, as well as when to kick things up a notch and rock out a bit more. I can’t wait to see what these guys do next.

The best bit: The roar of the guitars during the chorus of ‘Tremble’.

 

Oubliette – The Passage

Taking black metal as their basic template, Oubliette have created one of the year’s biggest surprises, a release which snuck up on me with just how good it was. As you’d expect from this type of music, riffs are the order of the day, however many tracks also conjure thick, folky acoustic guitar atmospheres that sound like the listener is lost in the forests adorning the album’s cover. Screams and occasional cleans are ably delivered by frontwoman Emily Low but as with many of my favourite releases it is the instrumentation which I enjoy the most. The band are highly locked in with each other, with the tight, technical drumming and sharp basslines a joy to discern in a clear mix with just enough black metal rawness.

The best bit: Drums and guitar perfectly locked in with each other at during the cool section which starts at 5:20 of ‘Barren’.

 

Antarctigo Vespucci – Love in the Time of Email

Punk maestro Jeff Rosenstock has been busy this year, releasing not only this, his latest album under the Antarctigo Vespucci moniker with fellow punk Chris Farren, but also POST-, the solo album he surprised us with back in January. I hadn’t heard anything by Antarctigo Vespucci before this but Love in the Time of Email is such an excellently composed slice of pop punk that I’m definitely going to check out their other records. The lyrics about young love are personal and relatable, while the songs themselves are highly melodic and catchy, full of hooks that stick in your head from the first listen. It’s fun, bright and nostalgic – a perfect package.

The best bit: All of ‘So Vivid!’

 

Eneferens – The Bleakness of Our Constant

An extremely late discovery in December, The Bleakness of Our Constant is another album which takes black metal as a template and does so much more with it. It’s a highly varied listen, crossing into the territory of doom and back again, mixing clean and harsh vocals, and with plenty of clean guitar breaks in the style of old-school Opeth. Every song is as good as the others and the album’s majesty is compounded by the fact that it’s all done by one man. If I have a criticism, it’s that the drum sound and drumming is a bit dull, but it works fine with the rest of the instrumentation. The standout is the intricately layered guitar work, which features memorable melodies and some great air guitar-inducing solos.

The best bit: The intro of ‘Selene’, where what sounds like a ukulele plays a folky riff before the rest of the instruments kick in and that riff is recreated with electric guitars.

 

Cult Leader – A Patient Man

Cult Leader are known for being heavy, delivering short, hard-hitting bursts of punk-infused metallic anger. It is with much confusion, then, that their second single from this album, ‘To: Achlys’ was met by the community. It’s slow and pounding, played entirely with clean guitars, and the vocalist actually sings*! A Patient Man is a mature musical statement from a band wishing to make clear they have more to provide than hardcore catharsis. As it turns out, four of this album’s tracks are like that first single; they’re brooding and mournful, providing a welcome break from the frenzy and making A Patient Man an atmospheric and moving listen. Excellent, hard-hitting and varied drumming is the icing on the cake.

The best bit: The second half of ‘To: Achlys’, where all instruments cut out except the bass, providing a moment of peace before clean guitars kick back in.

*Not that well, but it works, somehow

 

Altars of Grief – Iris

An early discovery for me at the beginning of the year, Altars of Grief ended up straight on my list with a gothic-inflected tale of a father dying in a car crash in the midst of winter. Sure, it’s not very cheery stuff, but Iris is an excellently constructed journey through loss and regret, at times doomy, at others more death metal-oriented, thick with atmosphere and perfectly paced. The layered vocals, varied in tone and provided unusually by three members, make the band stand out among their peers. The final proper track, Iris, is a bit of a let-down, with simplistic lyrical phrases and no real point to it. However, this is made up for by the album’s true end, a thoughtfully arranged strings-only piece which creates a perfect epilogue, a moment to reflect on what has come before.

The best bit: The layered clean vocals at 3:02 of ‘Desolation’.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Film Review: A Live Broadcast

A Live Broadcast is a short film produced by Louis Holder, a young independent British film maker and founder of Holder Studios, a platform for aspiring filmmakers to get their work out there. The film was created by Second Year students from the University of Westminster’s Film School.

Taking a uniquely British style of horror comedy as its basis, A Live Broadcast tells the story of a TV shopping channel host meeting the ultimate pair of fans. Opening with a typically cheesy broadcast selling a stepladder, it sets up its protagonist, Gareth: a smooth-talking professional who perhaps takes his job a little too seriously and struggles to separate his personas on and off-screen. After the broadcast goes awry thanks to a creepy caller, Gareth is informed by his colleague that the show’s backers would like to meet him. At this point we move to nightmarish suburbia, a place much like our own reality and yet off in certain details, like the three doorbells that mark the entrance to the backers’ home.

If anything, this probably betrays my own ignorance, but I went in with fairly low expectations. The phrase ‘student film’ makes me think of shaky camerawork, amateur acting and scripts overstuffed with ideas, but A Live Broadcast features none of these things. In fact, the phrase does it injustice, because the writing, acting and production value is up there with anything done professionally. If this is what today’s student films are like then I see a bright future ahead for anyone involved in them.

The visuals are raw and retro, making excellent use of light and shadow to create an off-kilter mood. This is massively helped by the fact it was shot on 16mm film, a rarity nowadays. I’ve always had a preference for film; it has a slightly grungy, worn quality to it that to me is cinema, and the image here is crisp and detailed. One particular shot uses a combination of a moving camera and focus to convey surprise. It’s showy and confident without being over the top – a microcosm of the film as a whole.

Ably staying between comedy and horror, the film balances the darkness, maintaining a level of absurdity through odd aesthetics, witty set pieces and uncomfortable dialogue. If I have a criticism, it’s only that after a certain point I was able to guess the direction in which things would be heading. This is a minor quibble, though, in what is a thoroughly entertaining slice of the surreal.

I also want to give praise to the credits – they’re done in a hand-drawn, animated style and are a joy to watch. They’re also supported by a fun, upbeat metal track which, with its crazy trumpet and noisy, feedback-filled ending, is the perfect complement to the film’s off-the-wall sense of humour.

In all, I greatly enjoyed A Live Broadcast and plan to recommend to any of my friends who are fans of dark, uncomfortable British absurdism. And metal.

A Live Broadcast is currently being submitted to a number of film festivals. I’ll edit this post to link to it once it’s publicly available.

Film Review: Mute

Moon, Duncan Jones’ debut in 2007, was smart, subtle sci-fi, offering a glimpse of a promising young film maker. Since then the writer/director has moved into big-budget Hollywood and out the other end, culminating in the ambitious box office failure Warcraft. Now his latest work, a script he has been trying to get made for years, reaches our screens courtesy of Netflix.

If it seems unfair to bring up the past, its only because Moon is a reminder of how good Jones can be, and it’s hard not to draw comparisons to it considering Mute is also science fiction and set in the same world. However, that’s where the similarities end: Mute is a mess of a film, a misfire on almost all levels.

The title comes from the condition of protagonist Leo, played by Alexander Skarsgård. A victim of a boat accident when he was a child, his throat was damaged, robbing him of the ability to speak. In a straight forward opening sequence we are shown how his Amish parents refused him any further medical attention that could repair the damage, leaving them essentially to blame for his condition. Not that this detail matters – it’s never brought up again, just like many character details scattered throughout the film.

Leo’s Amish background makes him a fish out of water in the futuristic, neon-drenched vision of Berlin in which he lives with his girlfriend, Naadirah. We know he loves her because the music swells every time he does A Nice Thing, which is quite a lot. There’s also pointless nudity and a weird love-making scene which feels clunky and unnecessary as the film hits us over the head to establish that yes, the two are definitely in love.

Just as everything seems to be going well between them, she tries to hint at a dark past before suddenly disappearing – tragic not just because she’s the love of Leo’s life, but also because she’s by far the most interesting character. When she goes missing, Leo is forced to trudge around the city in a noir-ish mystery to try and find her, navigating the criminal underworld and struggling to get by as someone who can’t easily express himself.

If this set up sounds quite interesting, then the film squanders it by devoting half of its run time to a pair of brash Americans played by stars Paul Rudd and Justin Theroux. The two work as surgeons-for-hire for Russian gangsters, and they provide comic relief from the fairly serious tone of Leo’s story. Unfortunately they’re just not that likeable, something the film fails to realise as it slides uneasily into ultra-dark territory via a casual reveal of some reprehensible sexual impulses which is bizarrely laughed off. The ultimate answer as to what happened to Naadirah is also part of this tonal whiplash, and it’s a moment which would have had more impact if the film hadn’t spent so long fobbing off this storyline in favour of two irredeemable scumbags.

This structure really hurts the film. By not connecting its protagonist and the Americans until far too late, we are left watching and wondering “why should I care about these characters?” And because the film cannot answer this, it becomes a slog.

In a genre where the city is often a character in itself, Mute struggles to bring its idea to life. The film feels like a series of discrete locations – a bar, a brothel, various apartments – rather than a coherent vision. Perhaps some of this is down to the limited budget Jones was working with. Futuristic Berlin is clearly modern Berlin with extra lights and some cheap CGI, and the cinematography struggles to capture this aesthetic in any interesting way, opting for the most pedestrian shots and a flat colour palette. In short, the film looks televisual when it should have been cinematic. On top of this, the score is predictable at best, unmemorable at worst, and as result moments of tension or even excitement are few and far between.

Perhaps the biggest let down of Mute is that the futuristic setting feels entirely unnecessary, because this is a very standard missing girl story which could have been told anywhere. Besides a few foibles with voice-activated technology, very little of what happens is unique to the world and the film wastes its potential.

My Favourite Albums of 2017

It’s been a mixed year for rock and metal music. While previous years included more discoveries, my list for 2017 feels like it consists mainly of old favourites who could pretty much be guaranteed to never put a foot wrong. On the other hand, a few spaces are taken up by obscure releases that have pretty much ignored by everyone. And for the first time ever, one of my favourite albums that didn’t make the top ten was a cover. So let’s talk about it.

 

Honourable Recommendations

The Doom Side of the Moon – The Doom Side of the Moon

This is a fun, hard-rocking reimagining of Pink Floyd’s stone-cold classic from members of reliable riff machines The Sword. While the ‘Doom’ part of the name is frankly misleading as the music isn’t really slow enough to earn the title, The Doom Side of the Moon is a well-played tribute to one of the greatest rock records of all time. Any fan of The Dark Side of the Moon, especially those into heavier music, should check it out.

Listen to: Money

 

Anathema – The Optimist

This highly underrated rock band’s latest release simultaneously looks forward and back, continuing the story of 2001’s A Fine Day to Exit, while expanding on the use of electronics from their previous release, Distant Satellites. However, while the instrumentation is great as always, many songs on The Optimist lack the heartfelt lyrics the band is known for, with the vocalists often opting to repeat the same phrases over and over again. This leads to a slight feeling of one-dimensionality.

Listen to: Leaving It Behind

 

Cascades – Cascades

This newly formed post metal band have crafted a fine debut in their self-titled LP. Dark and heavy, but also dynamic and full of mournful melodies, the band take the template of giants like Neurosis and Cult of Luna while managing to add their own spin on things via instrumentation such as piano. Cascades are certainly one to watch, especially if they can make their next record a little more even.

Listen to: Whitewater

 

Godspeed You! Black Emperor – Luciferian Towers

Back in the day, Godspeed You Black Emperor were like nothing else on earth. They crafted long moody pieces with a deeply apocalyptic atmosphere using droning violins, piercing guitars and booming percussion. But the last few years have felt like they’ve been treading water. Luciferian Towers brings back some of the fire, with a greater air of optimism than anything they’ve done previously. The problem is it ends too soon – just as it starts to get going.

Listen to: Bosses Hang, Pt. I, II & III

 

Best of 2017

Pallbearer – Heartless

If I was to list my choices in order, there is no doubt this would be my number one. As the latest record from one of my favourite bands ever, (their last, Foundation of Burden, made it to my 2014 list), it was to be expected that I would like Heartless. What I didn’t expect was just how deep this album would get its hooks into me. From the Pink-Floyd worshipping intro of ‘Dancing in Madness’ to the meaty chugs of the title track, Heartless is the sound of a band confidently able to change their sound while still remaining true to themselves. Considering how melodic and bright this album is, many people have asked if Pallbearer is even a metal band anymore. My answer is: Who cares, when what they produce is this good?

Listen to: All of it. OK, Heartless

 

The Menzingers – After the Party

The Menzingers have always been a highly accessible band with much mainstream potential, making them a bit of an outlier in my favourites. By taking the roots of punk and applying the potent themes of nostalgia and regret, they create anthems with substance. After the Party continues in much the same way while even daring to be a little more pop punk. Now they’re older, the band look back on their twenties wondering where all the time went. But despite what could be a sad and soul-sucking subject, the whole thing skips along because it’s all in such a catchy and fun package.

Listen to: Lookers

 

Mastodon – Emperor of Sand

A culmination of all of Mastodon’s previous records, Emperor of Sand is a return to the prog bombast and high conceptry of 2009’s Crack the Skye – a personal favourite of mine. But it also maintains the leanness of their most recent sound, established across The Hunter and Once More Round The Sun, making it the perfect balance between the two sides of the band. If their most recent work could be criticised as being a little too safe, here, Mastodon bring back the longer passages and ripping solos of old, bolting on huge singalong choruses to create a fun and yet complex ride inspired by their experiences with cancer.

Listen to: Roots Remain

 

Pillorian – Obsidian Arc

When hugely influential black metal-by way-of-neofolk purveyors Agalloch disbanded last year, it was a sad loss for the metal community. They were probably one of my favourite bands ever, having created masterful genre-crossing The Mantle. Pillorian arises from the ashes as the new band of frontman, guitarist and sometimes drummer John Haughm. Not stepping too far away from Haughm’s roots, Obsidian Arc is a massively promising debut which expands on the black metal influences of Agalloch while maintaining a tighter and darker aesthetic. The most interesting track, album closer ‘Dark is the River of Man’, is the band’s most direct connection to their forbearer, incorporating folky influences and atmospherics before blasting into a double kick-filled conclusion.

Listen to: Dark is the River of Man

 

The National – Sleep Well Beast

The National are another outlier in my tastes – sad indie with a huge mainstream following? No thanks. Except The National do it so well – heartfelt, poetic vocals mixed with the perfect instrumentation for each song, and stellar drumming that doesn’t need to be as good as it is. Listening to a National album feels like everything has been laid out seamlessly; there’s no bagginess, everything is exactly where it needs to be to hit you right in the heart. This emotive and mostly low-key album introduces more electronic influences than before, representing an interesting step forward in this band’s stellar discography. There’s even some bite, provided by Trump protest ‘Turtleneck’ and the upbeat ‘The System Only Dreams In Total Darkness’, proving they can rock on record just as they do live.

Listen to: Guilty Party

 

Paradise Lost – Medusa

Paradise Lost have been going over 25 years now, yet they continue to chug along just below the radar of the mainstream. With their latest release, they go back to their roots and remain consistent as ever. 2015’s The Plague Within reintroduced growls, but here they make their full return because that’s what the music calls for. The riffs are slow, thick and crunchy, with the production suitably murky to suit, yet what could make for an oppressive and dull listen skips along thanks to the band’s signature mournful leads working as a light through the darkness. A knack for catchy choruses helps, too.

Listen to: The Longest Winter

 

Nailed to Obscurity – King Delusion

Not all of my favourite albums have a unique sound; some just take a well-known template and execute it perfectly. In this case, the template is the melodic death doom of bands like Katatonia and Swallow The Sun. This massively ignored album from the most ironically named band ever stands out because of how varied yet consistent it remains throughout its running time. Never content to settle into one thing, Nailed to Obscurity change it up throughout with varied and intricate riffing, melodic guitar interludes and a mixture of snarling growls, emotive cleans and haunting whispers. The drumming is also excellent: tight, technical and interesting.

Listen to: Protean

 

Queens of The Stone Age – Villains

If 2013’s …Like Clockwork was QOTSA’s ‘serious’ record, then Villains is their fun one. Aided by producer Mark Ronson, the Queens have created a fun and funky album which proves they are able to rock out as much as they are able to move you. Early reactions that Ronson’s involvement might water down the band’s sound have been proven wrong; this isn’t a pop record, it’s the sound of a band who know exactly what they want to do: groove. And for fans of the last album (myself included), the moodier side of …Like Clockwork shows through in closer ‘Villains of Circumstance’.

Listen to: The Evil Has Landed

 

Steven Wilson – To The Bone

Prog lovers can be a reactionary bunch, seemingly conditioned to turn up their nose at the mere mention of ‘pop’ from their favourite multi-instrumentalist extraordinaire. But closer examination of Steven Wilson’s back catalogue shows that he’s always had a strain of pop running through him, especially in the earlier work of the much-missed Porcupine Tree. To The Bone is the most Porcupine Tree-like solo album from the frontman yet, incorporating far more of the pop sound of the past while retaining a prog-like attitude to genre exploration and diversity. Lyrics have always been Wilson’s weakness though, and dodgy lyrics here stand out like a sore thumb. In attempting to explore contemporary topics such as refugees and terrorism, he is far too on the nose, coming across as clumsy and maybe a bit insensitive. He’s always been a better musician.

Listen to: Refuge

 

Mogwai – Every Country’s Sun

Instrumental post rockers Mogwai have been going for a long time now, and with that many records under their belt they could be forgiven for slightly phoning it in at times. However, Every Country’s Sun is their most engaging release in years. Their familiar combination of dynamic guitars, solid drumming and the more recent use of electronics and synths is all present, but what rules in Every Country’s Sun’s favour is its flow. Mogwai know exactly when to change things up, from slow burners like ‘Coolverine’ to ambient soundscapes like ‘aka 47’, all the way to straight up rockers like ‘Old Poisons’. The record also sounds huge and has a powerful drum sound which works particularly well on the excellent title track.

Listen to: Every Country’s Sun

Film Review: Vengeance: A Love Story

Despite its by-the-numbers title, Vengeance: A Love Story doesn’t have much vengeance in it. Actually, come to think of it, it doesn’t have much love either. And the story is pure melodrama, sketched from paper-thin characters and well-worn genre tropes.

Set in the apparently crime-ridden town of Niagara Falls, Vengeance: A Love Story follows the aftermath of a brutal assault against a mother and her young daughter. Nicholas Cage plays John Dromoor, a stoic detective who meets the victim Teena (Anna Hutchison) in a bar before the crime and is now driven to protect her.

Cage, while decent enough in a mumbly sort of way, is barely given anything to do; the fact that the film starts with him is a red herring, because it much prefers to spend its time on weepy Teena and her equally emotional daughter. Granted, they’re both decent actors, but the film doesn’t know what to do with them other than make them suffer. When Cage comes back later on things start to get interesting, but then it’s the end of the film and he’s barely been in it.

The other star, Don Johnson of Miami Vice fame, puts in a commendable performance as the defence lawyer for the scumbags. He’s the sort of slimy character you love to hate, especially when it becomes clear the odds are in his and his clients’ favour.

In its attempted exploration of the effects of a crime on a small town, the film in parts reminds me of a John Grisham adaptation, following a patchwork of characters on both sides of the law. Where it falls down is the complete lack of subtlety with which it does anything.

An example of this is the assault itself. It’s long and drawn out, not in a brutal, hard-hitting way, but in an OK-we-get-the-message way, where a soaring score makes it painfully obvious that This Is A Sad Moment. Furthermore, when it cuts back to show part of the assault as John recounts it in court, it’s irritating, because we’ve seen it all before.

This is generally how the film carries itself, with every emotion turned up to 11. But emotion does not a character make, and the characters offer little beyond the surface whether they’re on the side of the villains or the good guys. We rarely get any idea of anybody’s background or motivation. Why are the culprits how they are? We don’t know, they’re simply pantomime villains to be booed and hissed at. And why is John how he is? Besides some clunky exposition about his past, the answers are not forthcoming.

Once the Vengeance of the title happens, it’s fairly satisfying, especially when the Falls themselves get to play a part. But to get to that point, we’ve had to sit through an hour of unconvincing theatrics. And besides a few lines of discussion, the consequences of this brand of justice are never explored; it simply happens, and that’s it.

It’s unfair to completely trash Vengeance: A Love Story, because it could have been so much worse. It’s decently acted, competently shot and has an effective soundtrack. But it’s lacking in characterisation or effective closure. It’s like a cheap airport novel; some narrative momentum but ultimately throwaway, unable to say anything or have much an impact.

Originally published for CinemaChords.com in February 2017

My Favourite Albums of 2016

It’s been another bumper year of both big and small name releases, and it’s been harder than ever trying to narrow things down to a top ten. So first, some honourable mentions that didn’t quite make the cut:

Neurosis – Fires within Fires – A strong release from these post-metal veterans, let down slightly by not all songs being as good as the last two.

Wolverine – Machina Viva – Great, melancholic prog metal from these Swedes, just not quite up there with the best of this year.

Emma Ruth Rundle – Marked For Death – A fantastic expansion of the dark folk sound of her first solo album, but a slightly weak middle means it lacks consistency.

With that done, here’s my top ten.

See my favourite albums from previous years here and here.

 

Cult of Luna & Julie Christmas – Mariner

I’ve always wanted to like Swedish post-metal heavyweights Cult of Luna more than I actually do. On the surface, their heavy, atmospheric instrumentally focused music sounds like it would be right up my alley, yet every time I sit down to listen to one of their albums something doesn’t sit right with me. The harsh vocals have always seemed too one-note, like they need to be mixed with something else for contrast. By combining their efforts with the versatile, powerful singing of Julie Christmas, Cult of Luna have avoided these flaws and delivered an absolute barnstormer of a record. Full of crushing heaviness, ethereal atmospherics and engaging, layered vocals, Mariner is everything I ever wanted from Cult of Luna. I also really like the album art.

Favourite track: Cygnus

 

Oathbreaker – Rheia

Belgium’s Oathbreaker is a band I’d heard of before but hadn’t paid much attention to until this year, when I saw the hype that Rheia, their third album, was getting. The hype was justly deserved. Oathbreaker rely on the vocal acrobatics of frontwoman Caro Tanghe, who potently mixes blood-curdling screams and vulnerable clean vocals while powerful, muscular drumming propels the songs along and tremolo-picked guitars create a feeling of despair and longing. In their ability to mix harsh black metal atmospheres with prettier, softer genres, Oathbreaker often get compared to Deafheaven. But for the sheer breadth of their sound, I think they’re way better than that.

Favourite track: Needles in Your Skin

 

SubRosa – For This We Fought the Battle of Ages

US doom metal band SubRosa have been a favourite of mine since their 2013 album More Constant Than The Gods, so it was with great anticipation that I greeted their latest release. An ambitious sprawling epic, For This We Fought… bases its ideas on the Yevgeny Zamyatin story We, a dystopian science-fiction novel about a future surveillance state. In choosing to tackle this subject, SubRosa have managed to build on everything great about their previous work, producing an engaging, emotional and cerebal experience. The band’s unique twin violin and guitar attack continues to deliver gothic and beautiful soundscapes, backed by a strong rhythm section and haunting vocal melodies courtesy of the band’s three women. The final track, Troubled Cells, a protest against the Mormon Church’s damning LGBT policies, is the piece de resistance, providing a powerful message and ending the album on a memorable and strong note.

Favourite track: Despair is a Siren

 

Katatonia – The Fall of Hearts

Swedish melancholic metal masters Katatonia have been working together for a long time now, but their last release, Dead End Kings, caused some to question if they were perhaps losing their spirit. Here they return sounding revitalised with a new drummer that contributes to a slightly more progressive, sweeping feel to proceedings. The Fall of Hearts generally delivers the expected Katatonia sound – Scandinavian melancholy, crunchy guitars and beautiful melodies – but occasional bursts of headbanging riffs and double bass make this album more ‘metal’ than their last two releases; an important step for a band who were perhaps guilty of staying too much in their comfort zone.

Favourite track: Residual

 

Jeff Rosenstock – Worry

Jeff Rosenstock is a bit of a figure head in the independent punk scene, known for a fearlessly DIY ethos and a belief that people should be able to pay what they want for his music. I knew none of this when I sat down to listen to Worry. All I knew was that the one song I’d heard was upbeat, catchy pop punk with interesting lyrics and well composed instrumentation. For some artists, this formula would be enough – not for Jeff. With Worry, he’s delivered an ambitious and varied record which weaves together ska-punk, singer-songwriter style confessionals, giant sing-along anthems and even old skool hardcore into something which somehow all works. This is all with thoughtful, nostalgic lyrics which tackle old classics like love and getting older as well as contemporary themes like gentrification, consumerism and the Internet.

Favourite track: I Did Something Weird Last Night

 

 Alcest – Kodama

Alcest are a French band known for mixing shoegaze style soundscapes with just a hint of some of the harsher sounds of black metal. Kodama is a return to the signature ‘blackgaze’ sound carved earlier in their career, a sound which took a bit of a backseat with their last release, Shelter. The record also sees the introduction of a new influence in the form of Japanese anime, something which, as well as influencing the instrumentation and the lyrics, has also led to some of my favourite album artwork of the year. The result is a beautiful and atmospheric work which rewards patience and ranks with, if not surpasses, anything they’ve done previously.

Favourite track: Oiseaux de Proie

 

Khemmis – Hunted

Khemmis play a style of melodic doom metal similar to one my favourite bands, Pallbearer, but where they differ is how they incorporate New Wave of British Heavy Metal influences into their sound. That means clearer production and more galloping riffs and dual guitar leads than your average doom band. From start to finish, this album rips. Never losing pace throughout its five tracks, Hunted is the sound of a band coming into their own, confidently mixing moods and textures, melody and fuzz, darkness and light. I’m excited to see what these guys do next.

Favourite track: Hunted

 

Inter Arma – Paradise Gallows

Every now and then a metal band comes along whose sound is hard to pigeonhole. Inter Arma mix elements of black, sludge and doom metal into their own, adding just a sprinkling of Pink Floyd and psychadelia. Their second album after their 2013 debut Sky Burial, Paradise Gallows continues this sound but takes it to even greater heights thanks to huge-sounding production and more progressive strong structures. At 70 minutes, it’s a long listen, but the band experiment with so many ideas, like acoustic guitars, clean singing and even post rock influences that Paradise Gallows stands out as a rewarding adventure through darkness. Also, their drummer continues to be one of the best in contemporary metal.

Favourite track: The Summer Drones

 

Oceans of Slumber – Winter

These progressive metal newcomers put out a stunning sophomore album earlier in the year with the confident and diverse Winter. Oceans of Slumber’s main weapon is their frontwoman, Cammie Gilbert, whose powerful and blues-inflected vocals are a breath of fresh air in a genre normally dominated by cheesy male operatics. The band throw in so many ideas, from extreme metal to alternative rock and piano balladry, that it’s a surprise it all works. Sure, some of the short instrumentals are a bit skippable, but the technically impressive drumming and excellent guitar work on the main songs allows them to wind their way easily through multiple moods, and the amount of melody and emotion at play makes for a surprisingly easy listen.

Favourite track: …This Road

 

Gates – Parallel Lives

One of my favourite rock discoveries of recent years, Gates’ debut album Bloom and Breathe fused the complex guitar soundscapes of post-rock with the hyperemotional vocals of emo. On this, their second album, they’ve dialled back their sound a little, turning down the guitars to let the vocals and songwriting shine through. When they do turn up, the heavier moments are even more effective as they feel cathartic and earned. With the exception of some darker moments, Parallel Lives is a melodic, chilled listen with great drumming and plenty of hooks – perfect for summer.

Favourite track: Left Behind

Film Review: Creepy

The idea of the paranoid neighbour is a well-worn idea in cinema, but Creepy manages to provide an interesting and thrilling take on this premise.

Koichi Takamura is an ex-cop with a traumatic past who moves to a new neighbourhood with his wife. Looking to introduce themselves to their neighbours, they soon meet Mr Nishino, who lives next door. Nishino is the Creepy of the title; he is a strange character with an odd, socially awkward manner of behaving, but Koichi soon begins to suspect that there is more to him than that. Like the typical on-screen retired police officer, Koichi also finds it difficult to resist continuing to indulge his detective instincts around his job as a criminology professor as he investigates an unsolved case from around the area.

Like Koichi himself, Creepy works best when there is a mystery to solve. The continuing questions of how trustworthy Nishino is and just what is going on in his house provide the engine that drives the film forward. It works because we want to be detectives ourselves. Like Koichi, we slowly become more paranoid as the evidence mounts against Nishino, while the possibility that it’s all just unwarranted suspicion remains ever elusively open.

This restraint is arguably the film’s most admirable quality. One can imagine how easy it would be to use a great honking soundtrack to alert us to danger, but the majority of the film is, in fact, scoreless. This restraint also extends to events themselves. Director Kiyoshi Kurosawa expertly builds the tension through the increasing interaction Koichi and his wife Yasuko has with Nishino, cutting between this and Koichi’s investigation with his police officer friend.

The scenes speak for themselves, as does the acting. With his continual oscillation between strange and nice, Nishino is no doubt the interesting role, and Teruyuki Kagawa plays him convincingly and, as is required, creepily. Hidetoshi Nishijima also does good work with Koichi as he becomes more and more suspicious, and Yūko Takeuchi supports him well as his well-meaning wife.

However, it must be said that Hidetoshi and Yūko are not actually given a whole lot to work with. Their characters are fairly thin archetypes – an ex-cop and a house wife – and with the exception of a flashback to Koichi’s past, they are never given much depth. The same goes for Nishino himself; we don’t know what drives him, and in this sense the film is a little unsatisfying.

When Creepy finally reveals the answer and plays its cards is where it unfortunately falls down, retreating into a fantasyland which is never quite explained. While this drop in quality is not enough to add up to any substantial demerit, it’s a shame that a film that excels in building tension subtly eventually feels the need to fully reveal itself in the end. Furthermore, the explanation lacks the grounding in reality that the rest has had so far.

However, despite this slight misstep, the film works well as a whole package, from its disarming beginning to an effective conclusion. Creepy doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but it provides a thrilling mystery for any crime fan looking for a suspenseful ride with a hint of horror.

Published in 2016 for CinemaChords.com

Film Review: How To Save Us

The first thing I noticed in How To Save Us was a spelling mistake in the opening titles. I lowered my expectations accordingly and it turned out I was right in doing so – besides some gorgeous locations and a decent lead, the film has unfortunately little to save it.

The main location is on the island of Tasmania, which has recently been evacuated for reasons unknown. Jason Trost – director, writer and protagonist – is Brian Everett, on the search for his brother Sam who has gone missing in the wake of the quarantine. As a hero, Jason certainly looks the part. With the appearance of Mad Men’s Kenneth Cosgrove with an eyepatch (or for videogame fans, LA Noire’s Cole Phelps), he seems ready to kick ass, or at least save his brother. The film is essentially on Jason’s shoulders, as we only hear his brother’s voice through tape recordings, and he gives a fine performance full of the right mixture of weariness and determination.

The film splits its first two acts between the two brothers: Sam, as he traverses across the barren (and often beautiful land), and Jason as he searches for him, using his brother’s notes. Problematically, an overreliance on the same technique diminishes the energy from these sequences; time and time again, the same formula is used as we watch Jason camping, surviving, and covering himself in ashes while his brother’s audio notes play over. When the film’s not doing that, we see Sam accomplishing the same tasks, this time with a repetitive old American folk music soundtrack played through a tinny radio. There can be something poetic about the struggle of man against nature, but it requires a skilful combination of picture and sound – something not seen here.

In the isolated moments where action does happen, it’s ludicrous at best and unintentionally hilarious at worst. This is because the cause of the evacuation is ghosts, and as ghosts are invisible, any confrontations basically amount to characters falling over and being dragged away by nothing. It’s an inherently stupid set up which results in no tension or thrills whatsoever. The only thing signifying the enemy is the appearance of some unspecified blurriness when viewed through an infrared camera, and ear-drum shattering white noise which, rather than being scary, is simply irritating.

Things marginally improve during the final act, as finally some backstory and emotion is introduced. By shifting its focus to Jason’s past, and his own psyche, we finally see what unites him and his brother. But it’s a case of too little, too late, as everything that came before amounted to fifty minutes of men walking around. The ending is ridiculous, but also bound up in feeling, and as such stands out as one of the film’s few good moments.

There are some good ideas in How To Save Us regarding family and the effects of the past. The problem is that these elements come together too late to save the rest from being a plodding, weary mess. An abandoned Tasmania is an incredible location for a film, and I can’t help but feel that ghosts are the worst possible way to capitalise on it. Combining this with a tiresome, repetitive structure and far too much exposition results in a feeling of lifelessness that prevents it from gaining any connection. How To Save Us means well, but ultimately doesn’t have any of the right ingredients to make an impact.

Originally published in 2015 for CinemaChords.com