Septicflesh: Titan

The sheer depth of this album suggests musical influences ranging from death metal to Wagner. Although following in the same symphonic vein as their previous material, Septicflesh are taking more musical risks in Titan. Freaky shifts in the rhythmic pattern keep songs suspenseful, yet the technical proficiency of the harmonic progression keeps it focused. One is reminded of the Theodore Roosevelt quote: "Keep your eyes on the stars and your feet on the ground."  The atmospheric unease of the choirs make an elaborate and beautiful background on which Spiros Antoniou projects his relentless harsh vocals, which tend to be the focal point of almost every track.  Like prior releases by Septicflesh, the lyrical content is often derived from mythology, which lends to the cinematic grandeur of the album. As it's name suggests, Titan strives to embody massive scope and overwhelming power. The album exemplefies blind fury tempered by disciplined precision, resulting in a brutally beautiful masterpiece.

Although the whole album is cohesive, some songs excel and innovate where others stay more predictable (but still pretty damn good.) The opening track, War In Heaven, hits the ground running but then retreats to a more comfortable song structure.  Prometheus, although obviously referring the the eponymous figure in Greek mythology, is likely inspired by the famous lament O Fortuna. The former emulates the latter in sorrowful melody and theatrical intensity. Similarly, the title track, Titan, offers a striking contrast between dynamic leads and drastic, almost dissonant orchestral arrangements. Other memorable tracks include Order of Dracul and Dogma, which feature exceptional composition and airtight execution.

 Confessions Of A Serial Killer failed to impress me with its unimaginative title and cheesy opening sound effect, which resembled a halloween ghost "Oooooh" sound. The repetitive Burn was the only other song that sounded out of place on an otherwise phenomenal release. Titan's shortcomings are few and easily overlooked. Five stars out of five.

Last minute reminder: Don't miss out on Septicflesh and Fleshgod Apocalypse, co-headlining the Conquerors Of The World tour. They hit my neck of the woods on July 11th, featuring Black Crown Initiate, Necronomicon, Deforme, and Endless Infection. The madness takes place at Blackwater Music on 109 4th street, and it's only $12 in advance or $15 at the door! See you there.

Hellfest 2014

For three days a year, the sleepy little town of Clisson in the French countryside is completely invaded by metalheads from all over the world. This is Hellfest, a metal festival that exploded from obscure beginnings to a world renowned event. This was my first time attending, but definitely not the last. My perception of music, society, and even time itself is irreversibly altered. Here's why:

1. The Stages

The mainstages were reserved for the likes of Slayer, Iron Maiden, Black Sabbath, and Sepultura. Admittedly, some of the bands (even headliners) were past their prime. As much as I hate the phrase "washed up", you can't be something you're not. Aerosmith was disappointing, even when heard from a distance.  I didn't even give Black Sabbath or the remains of Slayer a chance to break my heart. However, the main stages redeemed themselves with Iron Maiden, Sepultura,  and Behemoth, but more on that later.

The Altar and The Temple were adjacent stages which featured various subgenres, from metalcore like Soilwork, to the symphonic brutality of Septic Flesh, to the folk metal stylings of Eluveitie. I was impressed with most bands who performed there, excepting Opeth, who failed to live up to my already low standards. The one song that I enjoy, The Devil's Orchard, was the first on the butcher's block. Like the Misfits show, the audience was densely packed with die-hard fans who stay loyal to their favorite bands, even when they suck.

The Warzone was an apt title for the punk/grind/hardcore stage. The moshers were berserk, and the music was unrefined, unpretentious, heavy shit. This was the kind of refreshingly honest hellhole that you visit with like-minded psychos who want to punch each other in the face and get sand in crevasses you didn't even know you had. It was fucking amazing. The sole disappointment was The Misfits' set. Like Opeth, this show was overcrowded with fans like myself who were trying desperately, albeit in vain, to enjoy the show.

The Valley tended to showcase doom, sludge and stoner metal.  The occasional deviation from these genres included acts like Godflesh, Clutch,  and Phil Anselmo And The Illegals (who blew my mind, by the way.) For the most part, however, this is the stage that hosted Electric Wizard, Spirit Caravan, Dozer, Kylesa, and other deliciously slow, heavy, yet ethereal bands. Even if you missed a set, you could still enjoy the smoke billowing out from within the performance space.  It was almost like headbanging in a bong.

2. The Bands:

Eluveitie was hands-down the best performance I've ever seen. Not that their theatrics were especially impressive (typical flashing lights and headbanging on stage), but the overall sensory experience was sublime. Every salty-sweet aroma of sweat, beer, and blood, every infinitesmal visual nuance, and every tactical sensation of hair swinging and bodies slamming was absolutely magnificent.  Their set featured the first wall-of-death I saw at Hellfest, and the only one in which I participated. Those were the sweatiest dudes ever, and few of them were fully clothed. At the risk of sounding nasty, that was one slippery pit. That was also my first time to be thrown over the rails while crowd surfing. Words cannot describe my confused euphoria.This was the kind of show in which the mob-mentality prevails and the collective is greater than the sum of its parts. I strongly believe that everyone who walked out of the tent after the performance (including the band members themselves) left with more than they had when they entered.

But enough of that esoteric nonsense. Behemoth kicked my ass. I was close enough to the stage that getting set on fire was a legitimate concern. Sadly, however, I wasn't close enough to touch Nergal and gain his powers. I pop up occasionally in the official video, but ultimately I was just another voice screaming in unison and a pair of devil horns lost in the crowd. When the set was over and the crowd dispersed, I saw one unfortunate individual bleeding profusely from the head. He was only one of many. Yeah, it was THAT good.

Iron Maiden was another exceptional show. Bruce Dickinson's voice can project as loud as ever, and there's nothing like seeing Eddie in person. The setlist included classic favorites such as Aces High, The Number Of The Beast, Run To The Hills, The Trooper, and Fear Of The Dark. My only complaint is that there were no deep cuts: I would kill to see a live performance of Rime Of The Ancient Mariner, or at least Montsegur.

   Derrik Green of Sepultura is another astounding vocalist. He doesn't even have to do the whole "growl from the lungs" thing like the rest of us; that's just his normal voice. He could say something innocous like "Pleased to meet you" and you would think you're conversing with a demon. His effortlessly deep growls, accompanied by Death Metal riffs and Sepultura's signature drumbeats and bass-lines, augured for one hell of a concert.

Septic Flesh was almost too perfect. With only minor discrepancies, their live show was virtually identical to their studio recordings. Although they obviously used pre-recorded symphonic samples, I was nearly suspicious that the whole show was lip synced.  But then again, with symphonic metal as well-composed as theirs, perhaps there is simply no room for improvisation, not even during live concerts. Every single note, rest, melody, and harmony, had to be precise. So hopefully they didn't mime the whole thing, and they just happen to put on an incredible show. Plus, Spiros Antoniou is a bodacious babe, so I would probably forgive them anyway.


Traveling all the way from California to play at Hellfest, House Of Broken Promises was a spectacle to behold. Loud, tribal, almost primitive drumbeats carried most of the songs forward, while the riffs and vocals were more forgettable. That's not to say that the music was bad: The melodies were very catchy and chock full of hooks, but it didn't stand out from the hundreds of similar bands. Despite these shortcomings, they were still a great band to see on stage, and the crowd went fucking nuts for them.


I saw many more bands, but the main ones really worth mentioning are Soilwork, 1349, and Phil Anselmo and the Illegals. I only caught the last handful of Soilwork, but even those few minutes were enough to distinguish them as an exceptional live band. Their unbridled energy is contagious, and everyone in the audience was moving. 1349 was delightfully evil, and Phil Anselmo still sounds on top of his game. I only caught snatches of  Death and Nile,  but Death wasn't playing their heaviest and I really had to pee during Nile. I also missed Skid Row, Carcass, Dark Angel, and Ulcerate, but I'm sure they were all incredible. Megadeth and Iced Earth were M.I.A, probably because both bands are fronted by douchebags. Otherwise, the rest of the bands made delightful background noise while I stood in lines for various necessities such as food, beer, and wine.

3. The People

Needless to say, many people went to Hellfest dressed in costume. Amongst many other beloved characters, I saw Batman, The Joker, some dinosaurs, an old dude in a thong, several glam rock skanks, and our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. I even saw Spongebob Squarepants stagediving. Otherwise, most of us were wearing our usual uniforms of denim and leather. Everyone was clad in Doc Marten's, Converse, camouflage,  studded belts, fishnets, and Slayer or Iron Maiden T-shirts. I especially enjoyed it when hot people took off their shirts, oh yeah, baby, oh yeah.

Speaking of hot people, I wonder what happened to that gorgeous French metalhead who I almost seduced. I like to think that he was intimidated because he thought I was out of his league, but it's far more likely that my stench fended him off. Stupid, sexy Leo. Call me.

I also met this crazy stoner who is obsessed with wolves, and a cool Portuguese guy who is obsessed with whiskey. I hung out with miscellaneous circles of nice people, and I felt comfortable with just about everyone there. This was very unlike the American concerts I'm used to attending, wherein you can get attacked by a raging tweaker or junkie at any given moment. No actual fights broke out, no females felt threatened or unsafe, and everyone pretty much just partied in good spirits and saved the violence for the pit.

Even the bands aknowledged the  almost tangible sense of comraderie that we all felt. Frontmen would make such  announcements as "This is dedicated to each and every single one of you", "Metal is not only the best music on the planet, but we're also a family" or "We all sing this next song together."  Everyone knew that we were surrounded by our own kind, and it was pretty damn satisfying. Even as a stranger in a strange land, I had never felt so accepted for who I am.

And now of course,  I must extend a special thank you to the good friends who took me out to the show to begin with. I couldn't ask for better partners in crime, and I can't wait to see you all next year. You know who you are. You gave me the best week of my life, and for that, I am sincerely grateful. I hope you enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed yours.

To everyone else: May these writings convince you to join me for Hellfest 2015, and Clisson, France will be our stomping ground once again.

The Strange

Put the Ventures' Pipeline, Eric Johnson's Cliffs Of Dover, and Black Sabbath's Planet Caravan in a blender. You'll get The Strange. The music is rhythmic, bluesy, and centered around the all-important riff. One band member mused that they sound "like surf rock without the water. Instead of surfboards, we have skateboards." Indeed, the sound is distinctly New Mexican, and their understated groove leaves the listener thirsty for more desert-grown Americana Rock. Their sound is very gradient; slow jams intensify into louder, faster pieces, and sometimes even shredding.

This music was the perfect soundtrack to a starlit, rainy Mardi Gras night. The whole experience was surreal. Imagine being surrounded by mask-wearing drunkards, swaying and headbanging to these intoxicating jams. The weirdest part of the show was when the venue was busting at the seams with a traveling brass band, who opened for the featured act. I'm not a huge fan of Brass, but I'm sure it was just dandy if you're into that sort of thing. El Paseo is just a small tavern, and it was packed with a huge audience. Plus it was funny to see middle aged Tuba players wearing dozens of Mardi Gras beads and outrageous costumes.

I digress. The Strange are a refreshing new take on local music.  When the show promoter claimed they were "Santa Fe's favorite band", I assumed it was a hyperbole. Now, I agree that they are easily one of the most popular bands from my home town.

As much as I can gush about them, Rolling Stone (among others) already beat me to the punch. Check them out on Reverbnation and Facebook.

My verdict? They sound pretty flipping legit. Four stars out of five.

Knights Of Badassdom

This is yet another Metalhead Comedy that assumes that over-the-top ridiculousness will make it so cheesy that it's awesome. Although this assumption holds true at times, there are also disappointingly predictable moments and stale humor that makes me question the sanity of whoever made the film. To its credit, Knights Of Badassdom features a cameo appearance by Brian Posehn, and the hero's  requisite love interest is Summer Glau in a leather skirt and corset. Yowza!

The plot is fairly straightforward: The main character is moping over his failed relationship with his ex-girlfriend (No, not Summer Glau. He's crying over some bimbo who can't even tell the difference between Black Metal and Doom.) In an effort to cheer him up, his friends take him to a LARP convention, where they accidentally summon a succubus. Naturally, the convention is nothing but a buffet to her, where she terrorizes helpless nerds armed only with plastic shields and foam swords.

Although many jokes fell flat, and the story was pretty corny, it was a thoroughly enjoyable movie. There were several allusions to Metal and Rock bands, including Children Of Bodom, Led Zeppelin,  and others. It's exactly what one should expect from  a comedy about cosplay, RPGs, sex demons, and Doom Metal. Sure, it's kind of hokey, but it was also funny and entertaining. Three stars outta five.

Shows of 2014

Sorry for the lack of writing, I had a momentary lapse of reason and decided to spend the last few weeks blasting Fleshgod Apocalypse and reading Nietzsche. I haven't been quite the same ever since. I'm not sure I'll ever recover. Anyway, here are some cool shows to get the year off to a good start.

 

Wow, this year is already way better than 2013, and we're not even two weeks in! This tour hits my neck of the woods on the 11th, then heads Westwards. (Note: The flyer says the show is happening at Amped, but the updated event page says it's actually at The Gasworks. )

 

Here's another Albuqurque show on the same night. this line up is more Industrial/Heavy Electronic. The Jam Spot is a relatively new venue that only recently opened, so check it out! 

 

  

Yowza! Chelsea Grin and Eat A Helicopter will be sharing the stage at Launchpad! In an early review, I even compared EAH with CG, they must be a match made in Deathcore-Heaven. The third band is Siddhartha, an up-and-coming local band who call Albuquerque home. 

Stay tuned for more updates, meanwhile, enjoy your local scene and don't get too drunk.

Series Review: Todd & The Book Of Pure Evil

The title is fairly self-explanatory. Todd is a numbskull metalhead who must save his high school from an evil book with wish-granting powers. Anyone who uses the book's powers will find thier deepest desires backfire and ultimately be destroyed by their own wish. (Monkey paw rules, ya know?) The book also has a sinister connection to the mysterious thrasher dudes who hang out in the parking lot of Crowley High. Oh yeah, did I mention that the school is run by Satanists? Even the dweeby, sweater-vest wearing guidance counselor, Atticus Murphy, is not what he seems. He is an occultist, conspiring to get his hands on the book and deliver it to his secret society of Devil Worshipers. Todd must outfox Atticus and a whole slew of other villains as he confronts the book, which he himself unwittingly unleashed.

Fighting on his side is a ragtag group of unlikely friends.  Todd's best friend is Curtis, an outcast stoner with a prosthetic arm. The hot-but-bitchy Goth girl Jenny is convinced that the book is somehow responsible for her father's disappearance. The shy, sweet, and nerdy Hannah provides the brain power. Last but not least, Jason Mewes (AKA Jay of Jay and Silent Bob) is the guru-like janitor who dispenses drugs and sage advice. Together they form a gang to seek the book and prevent the utter destruction of Crowley High. Naturally, high school being a fertile cesspool of hormonally driven angst, the book runs amok and causes rampant destruction, despite the gang's effort to quell it.

For the most part, the series relies on over-the-top slapstick gore, cheesy humor, and predictable plots.  Although it leans on a crutch of so-bad-it's-almost-funny, it was an entertaining series, and even the corny episodes are mildly amusing. The low budget is apparent, but some episodes are surprisingly well made, with more witty humor and moments of genuinely disturbing horror. My personal favorite is Checkmate. This is a well-rounded, funny, scary episode that showcases the good qualities of the series.

Speaking of low budgets, they couldn't afford to complete the saga, so the animated(!) finale is expected to be released in the Spring of 2014. Meanwhile, you can watch the series on Netflix, Amazon, or interact with the official website.

Overall, the series was hit and miss, and I was occasionally  disappointed with the repetitive, immature jokes and shameless, self-aware corniness. Three stars are my judgement.

The Damn Dirty Apes: The Apes Of Wrath

 

First of all, the cover art is a bunch of monkeys sitting on toilets. That is hilarious. (Naturally, they're doing the see/hear/speak no evil pose, because why the hell not.) If you think the art is funny, just wait til you hear the music. That's not to say it's bad. On the contrary, they have the same tongue-in-cheek rambunctious quality that made early Thrash and Punk  so enjoyable.  Their musical style is reminiscent of Anthrax: Simple and catchy, with rebellious lyrics and somewhat repetitive melodies. The riffs are basic hooks, the bass can incorporate a  funky groove at times, and the shouted vocals portray irreverent lyrics.   Their sense of humor is spot on, and the music is thoroughly entertaining.

  The Apes Of Wrath was released in 2011 by Overdose On Records.  You can check it out on Reverbnation, Stereokiller, and Cdbaby. You can also visit the band on their own website.

In a nutshell, Apes Of Wrath is a nostalgic flashback to the 80's, emulating the style of  old-school Thrash with a heavy influence of Punk Rock. The verdict: 3 stars.