Archive for the ‘Reviews’ Category

Savages — Adore Life

Monday, January 25th, 2016

Savages intention for Adore Life was to write the “loudest album ever”, a lofty ambition, especially when you share a world with Swans, a band that Savages singer Jehnny Beth has mentioned many times as being hugely influential on the sound of their new LP. Swans’ influence is strong throughout the album, from the grinding guitars of opening track ‘The Answer’ to the growling violence of ‘Adore’. It’s a sound that’s clearly made for live performance, with the singalong vocals of ‘Sad Person’, and the manic energy of ‘Surrender’ coming close to bringing us the thrashing chaos of the pit. Adore Life succeeds on many fronts: as an evolution of Savages trademark sound, and as a darker, threating album, full of violent force and energy. But it’s less transcendent, less surprising than debut Silence Yourself, and while the tracks are very good, they’re never quite as good as the singles on their last LP, barring the possible exception of ‘Slowing Down The World’ — which is narrative and powerful in a way that Savages have never been before. It’s unclear as to whether that’s a problem with the album, my subjective expectations, or if there’s simply more that’s going on here that the recordings don’t allow the listener to grasp. In any case, it seems to be a watershed release, and the way that Savages go from here, in their albums and their live performances, will vastly change the way that it’s interpreted. Taken on its own merits alone, though, it’s a very dense experience. It’s hard to process in a lot of ways, as there’s both a lot, and very little going on here that we haven’t heard somewhere else before.

The album runs the gamut from the fairly traditional Savages sound of ‘Evil’, through to the distant, vast expanse of ‘I Need Something New’. It’s new terrain for the band, and, despite the miserable, down-tempo plod of most of it, you can tell they’re feeling really good about the things they’re doing here. But by the second-last track ‘T.W.Y.G’ you start to feel a little weary of their structure. Every song here builds and swells a little bit like later Swans, but never manages to reach its full potential. It feels like it’s caught between potential futures. On one hand, the clattering simplicity of early Savages, on the other, the looming majesty of later Swans. It’s the sound of progress and transition, but it doesn’t feel like it’s been completely settled yet. This is a startling experience. To go from an album as self-contained and tonally complete as 2013’s Silence Yourself to the melancholy diffusion of 2015’s Adore Life feels like a precarious decision. But there’s a seed of hope in the anxiety. There’s a chance of a renewal here untouched in either this album, or the previous LP; a chance they could be greater than the sum of all their parts. If we’re looking at raw ambition and the sense of possibility, this is probably an improvement on their debut. While Silence Yourself had an amazing sound, it was difficult to imagine where the band could go from there. More polished, pop-hook heavy post-punk would have seemed like they were playing to their reputation. The Swans angle is welcome and unexpected, but the mix is underwhelming here.

If nothing else, the album proves that Savages are unwilling to rest upon their past successes. It tells us that they’re building towards something. They’re throwing old ideas out and adding new influences in, in a regimented dedication to improving their sound. The trouble is, the project isn’t finished yet. At this point it could really take them anywhere — on to greater heights and higher authenticity, or banality through the replication of the sounds of more inspired artists. Honestly, it’s more confusing than the band has ever been before. It’s not a great album, but it’s definitely an exciting one.

Adore Life is out now through Matador/Remote Control.

Tortoise — The Catastrophist

Tuesday, January 19th, 2016

With the passing of seven years since 2009’s Beacons of Ancestorship, post-rock pioneers Tortoise have returned with a satisfying collection of songs that put the playful back into play. Post-rock’s most abstract band had already absorbed much of the 90s underground sights and smells, combining into a heady amalgam that’s more post-post-rock than it is post-rock; they continue to explore a sound awash with new-agey synths.

While any newcomer to the band might find The Catastrophist’s cruisy tempos somewhat conservative, any initiate into Tortoise’s soundscape knows that — as with all their albums, replete with their signature minimalist grooves — understatement is sovereign. In the majority, song lengths keep to under or around a respectable four minutes, rendering the band’s sonic excursions more ambient tasters rather than immersive transfigurations.

The album’s opener, and title track, represents the most structured and straightforward piece on the album, while following track, ‘Ox Duke’, serves as a more appropriate introduction to one of the album’s primary themes of exploration: timbral layers and textures. Rather than backgrounding or foregrounding particular sounds to elicit textures, Tortoise has the various sounds in ‘Ox Duke’ play off each other by pulling a timbre from one instrument before discarding the original sound and moving in with another. For example, the high register of the cymbal crash at about a minute into the piece introduces the next stage of the layered build into icy string synths, texturally contrasting against earthy guitar chords while rhythmically complementing them. All these elements collaborate to produce a wide palette of interconnected sounds while generating fluid, ambient textures.

Followed by a very Pink Floydian cover of David Essex’s 1973 single ‘Rock On’, the band continues with their timbral explorations on the ominous ‘Shake Hands with Danger’, featuring sharp guitar tones underlaid by their characteristic oblong bass groove and prominent percussive exotica. ‘The Clearing Fills’ depicts a serene soundscape that gradually dissolves into ambience.

As the album’s single and longest song, ‘Gesceap’ forms the centrepiece for The Catastrophist, hearkening to Philip Glass’ late 70s-early 80s output with it’s hypnotic spiderweb of patiently layered polyrhythms.

‘Yonder Blue’, another album highlight, features Yo La Tengo’s Georgia Huble’s languorously — and gorgeously — deadpan vocals over hazy atmospherics and twangy strumming.

Between the upbeat electronics of ‘Gopher Island’ and the sophisticated funk of ‘Hot Coffee’, The Catastrophist finds Tortoise making a warm, expressive, and consistently interesting addition to their discography.

The Catastrophist is out this Friday through Thrill Jockey/Rocket.

DEAFCULT — DEAFCULT

Saturday, December 5th, 2015

DEAFCULTIn an honest world, you wouldn’t be able to escape a band like Deafcult. They’d be played in supermarkets all over the country and they’d be interviewed on Sunrise as the newest darlings of booming, national shoegaze scene, widely recognised as our most distinctive cultural export, and the populist extension of an equally well-regarded avant-garde Australian underground.

But we don’t live in an honest world, so it’s possible you haven’t heard of Deafcult, a Brisbane shoegaze band whose devastatingly loud, but blissfully melodic self-titled debut album – released digitally in May – is set for a vinyl release on Sydney label Black Wire this month, just in time for their recently announced east-coast Australian tour. The album is melodic enough for almost anyone to enjoy, while still offering the musical depth and authenticity craved by the modern indie scene. It’s heavy without being challenging, dark without being depressing: an overwhelming and instantly gratifying addition to the sunny side of local shoegaze. It feels like flying through a kaleidoscope of coloured clouds, relaxing and powerfully psychedelic, while the force provided by the band’s four guitarists creates unparalleled feelings of immersion and intensity that set the band apart from everything else that’s happening in Australia at the moment.

It’s world-class, anthemic alt-pop, and the vinyl release will allow you to enjoy it in greater detail than you ever could have done before. There seems to be a lot of awesome music coming out from Brisbane at the moment, but as far as dream-pop goes, Deafcult make some of the best. If you missed out on the band when they made their debut in April this year, now’s the perfect time to check them out. In an honest world, you wouldn’t have a choice. This is powerful, novel, and emotional popular music, that represents the best of the Australian shoegaze scene; it demands your recognition and support. Check it out if you’re a fan of local acts like Flyying Colours, Day Ravies, or Forevr, and prepare to be blown away.

Deafcult is out December 10 through Black Wire Records.

Heat Dust — Heat Dust

Wednesday, October 7th, 2015

There are two ways for artists playing ‘80s-inspired post-punk to stand out from their influences in 2015. Mix up familiar riffs and drum beats with related sounds from the ‘90s or the early 2000s, or stick closely to melodies reminiscent of familiar songs and play them harder and faster than anyone has ever done before. Heat Dust draw a little bit from both approaches but are mostly in the latter category, playing a heavy strand of modern post-punk that sounds like the speed-addicted lovechild of Killing Joke and The Chameleons. From second the bass kicks in opening track “Nothing Left to Lose”, the album takes your breath away. There’s a hazy, distant sound to the vocals and a dreamlike quality to the music, but the drums are energetic, the guitars are loud, and the tempo is frenzied and intense. It makes you feel like you’re trapped between two worlds at once: on one side, the white hot passion of traditional punk, on the other, the cold, oppressive ambiance of gothic music. Then it drags you down a path that’s somewhere in the middle: a black hole, churning away at the centre of the galaxy. It pulls you down towards it, into the abyss.

Even on the slower tracks like “I Warm My Hands” or “(Hopefully) Alone”, there’s a sense of pull, a forward motion. The momentum drives the album forward, giving it sense of restless energy. A couple of the band members have a history in hardcore which is evident in the blast-beat drums, shouts and occasional gang vocals. They lend a sense of power to the music, while the sudden silences on tracks like “Something for Nothing” and “I Allowed Myself”, show a band who’re skilled at toying with a listener’s suspense. This isn’t just another thrashy post-punk album; it displays a careful sense of craftsmanship, where subtle deviations from expected genre tropes played at blinding speed create an unpredictable roller coaster of an album. Those soaring heights and plunging depths keep you wrapt across its 35 minute runtime, and hungry for more once it ends. Heat Dust is the perfect length. It feels condensed rather than truncated, as its speed is so infectious and each idea is carried through until its logical conclusion.

Heat Dust feel like the finished version of the sound that Ceremony have been aiming for for years. As a short debut from a relatively unknown band, this is an incredible achievement. The mix of hardcore and post-punk is better here than anything we’ve heard before, and the shades of black metal on “(Hopefully) Alone” and noise rock on ‘“Something For Nothing” provide evidence that the band is bringing in even more exciting inspirations, which could be explored on an album yet to come. It’s the perfect sound for a debut: confident, powerful, and immediately familiar, with just enough rawness and undeveloped space to build your expectations for a follow-up release. A truly stunning album.

Heat Dust is out now through The Flenser.

Heat Dust — Heat Dust

Wednesday, October 7th, 2015

There are two ways for artists playing ‘80s-inspired post-punk to stand out from their influences in 2015. Mix up familiar riffs and drum beats with related sounds from the ‘90s or the early 2000s, or stick closely to melodies reminiscent of familiar songs and play them harder and faster than anyone has ever done before. Heat Dust draw a little bit from both approaches but are mostly in the latter category, playing a heavy strand of modern post-punk that sounds like the speed-addicted lovechild of Killing Joke and The Chameleons. From second the bass kicks in opening track “Nothing Left to Lose”, the album takes your breath away. There’s a hazy, distant sound to the vocals and a dreamlike quality to the music, but the drums are energetic, the guitars are loud, and the tempo is frenzied and intense. It makes you feel like you’re trapped between two worlds at once: on one side, the white hot passion of traditional punk, on the other, the cold, oppressive ambiance of gothic music. Then it drags you down a path that’s somewhere in the middle: a black hole, churning away at the centre of the galaxy. It pulls you down towards it, into the abyss.

Even on the slower tracks like “I Warm My Hands” or “(Hopefully) Alone”, there’s a sense of pull, a forward motion. The momentum drives the album forward, giving it sense of restless energy. A couple of the band members have a history in hardcore which is evident in the blast-beat drums, shouts and occasional gang vocals. They lend a sense of power to the music, while the sudden silences on tracks like “Something for Nothing” and “I Allowed Myself”, show a band who’re skilled at toying with a listener’s suspense. This isn’t just another thrashy post-punk album; it displays a careful sense of craftsmanship, where subtle deviations from expected genre tropes played at blinding speed create an unpredictable roller coaster of an album. Those soaring heights and plunging depths keep you wrapt across its 35 minute runtime, and hungry for more once it ends. Heat Dust is the perfect length. It feels condensed rather than truncated, as its speed is so infectious and each idea is carried through until its logical conclusion.

Heat Dust feel like the finished version of the sound that Ceremony have been aiming for for years. As a short debut from a relatively unknown band, this is an incredible achievement. The mix of hardcore and post-punk is better here than anything we’ve heard before, and the shades of black metal on “(Hopefully) Alone” and noise rock on ‘“Something For Nothing” provide evidence that the band is bringing in even more exciting inspirations, which could be explored on an album yet to come. It’s the perfect sound for a debut: confident, powerful, and immediately familiar, with just enough rawness and undeveloped space to build your expectations for a follow-up release. A truly stunning album.

Heat Dust is out now through The Flenser.

Echoes of Yul — Healing

Thursday, October 1st, 2015

One could be forgiven for imagining that there is a raging fetish for Poland surging through what has been written here in the past. The regularity with which it has been necessary to express deep admiration for the utterly delightful music both experimental and more traditionally extreme coming from that part of the world has brought with it some degree of self-consciousness. However, it has never been the result of the need to gratify some specific fascination. Like any place, it is likely that the true quality is but a sliver amongst a great mass of the ordinary. What is undeniable is that the really good stuff is quite special in a global context. Artists such as Kuba Zio?ek, Rafa? Iwa?ski, Merkabah and Thaw have produced absolute magic with sound, and have already featured here (often more than once). Another who earned a brief mention previously is the band Echoes of Yul after the release of their song “Asemic” on a split with Thaw.

When writing of that split release, it was mentioned that Echoes of Yul were not as well known as they should be. Those who have missed out on their past records should be kicking themselves. Early on, there were whispers of delight across a few blogs that, with Echoes, something different could be found amidst the regular genre tags ascribed to hypnotic and downtempo heaviness. They were producing doom and drone that displayed genuine beauty alongside the weight of dirges. A generous infusion of electronics and strong flavours of dub gave them something clearly different from music usually described as doom, to that welcome point where the tags begin to lose their value. Their second full-length record, Cold Ground, remains an essential find for those who love doom and drone that severs the tethers to such genres’ conventions.

With each production Echoes of Yul have pushed themselves onwards to something innovative within their own context, never compelled to repeat themselves. When Maciek Szymczuk released his single “The Seer” earlier this year, the strongest hint yet of what was coming showed up in the form of two versions of his work by Echoes. The closing passages of “Asemic” had previously pointed towards this, but it would have been difficult to read much into that alone. The more voluminous waves of heavy distortion were starting to be wound back almost completely, dubby basslines more prominent, and the ambience more hypnotic, abstract, and spacious. So, as the band’s new and third full-length album, The Healing, has revealed itself to be even more singularly focused on the more tranquil and beautiful elements of their “vision of slow motion music”, in some form it is no surprise. What is exhilarating is to see Echoes of Yul surpass themselves yet again.

“Ester” makes the vision clear at the new album’s outset. Beautifully haunting tones and minimal percussion are as a ghostly design, as if Bohren had ditched their acoustic jazz noir to join forces with Forest Swords in a collective flirtation with minimal post-rock. Further comparisons to the latter continue early on in “The Trick”, until craftily understated distortion comes back into play for the first time on The Healing. Even as the volume thickens, this record doesn’t stray from the impression of its soul: to create a luxuriously comely form of moody intoxication.

Abstract beauty is here to rule on The Healing. Micha? ?liwa has gone for a much less direct and forceful approach with this new material. Those who find the heavy element of Echoes of Yul an essential ingredient, however, will not be disappointed. It is just that, as previously inferred, it is applied more as a detail rather than an overwhelming motif. “Apathy Rule” and “Organloop” are superb in this manner, with distortion adding to the contemplative elegance of the music rather than tearing it up into a mess of explosive inundation.

If there is any feeling of a nod to the past in terms of tone, it would be in the form of the album’s closing track, “The Better Days”. Even here, as bass and guitar buzz more forcefully along, the processed vocals, trip-hop style rhythms, and electronic flourishes keep the finale firmly within the new vision. To the very end, The Healing remains expertly steady in its expression of languid rapture.

It is difficult to connect The Healing to any referential pitch. Forest Swords have already been cited, with there being a clear reason for those who are into the more experimental side of trip hop and more thoughtful forms of electronic music to enjoy this album. But the album also remains connected to the spirit of heavier music like doom, without falling into its more blunt and excessive traps. Whether you are somewhere in the middle or situated at either of these poles, The Healing is an album you will love, filled with a sense of being at peace and profoundly haunted all at once.

The Healing is available on CD from Zoharum Experimental and available digitally from Echoes of Yul’s Bandcamp.

Catch The Black Captain every Thursday at 12pm (GMT+8) on RTRFM hosting Out To Lunch with Cutter on RTRFM 92.1.

Drowning Horse — Sheltering Sky

Thursday, September 24th, 2015

In the early 80s, I spent four years living in a tiny camp high in the Andes in the deep south of Perú, atop the crest of a fertile valley where a river barely struggled its way through the most arid region of the world. Across from this scar of emerald laid as a challenge through something that seemed lifeless from afar stood Cerro Baúl, an epic watcher amidst the rift made powerfully distinctive by ancient geological forces. To get anything beyond the bare necessities required a three hour drive from that place, down roads fraught with precipitous danger and out through the Atacama Desert. It was though an ocean had snapped instantaneously through transmutation into golden dust during a cataclysmic storm, with tremendous waves of nothingness as far as I could see.

It is certain that this is where my heart became such fertile ground for the experience of doom. These scores of journeys placed one in a deep meditative state, inescapably an insignificant and fragile lifeform within such immense and awesome manifestations of nature. More than a decade later, it would be exhilarating to relive this experience through sound. It never ceases to amaze me how persuasive particular artists are at invoking the sense of those places and those journeys. Over time, it would be one of the greatest surprises to witness that one of the most powerful examples of this in the world of doom was in my own back yard.

Those of us who have seen Drowning Horse live know what it is to have your breath expertly stolen, to experience the small confines of a dark venue open up into a world where mountains rise and explode before you, where fierce and unrelenting wind reshapes the sands of vast deserts as though they were waves of liquid sent crashing upon exotic shores. Their volume and intensity are legendary, yet would be nothing without the musicians’ phenomenal ability to patiently construct the means to fire a focused listener across a pneumatic trajectory. There are not many bands around who can take you to the core of your inner self like Drowning Horse can, provided you are ready to let them do so.

With such a gift for live performance at their disposal, one of the great challenges that a band like Drowning Horse is presented with is to translate this power across to the studio. Their first (self-titled) full length release through Heartless Robot demonstrated that they are capable of this, but over the years since that record was made, the band’s sound evolved and broadened a great deal, renewing the question as to whether the impact in the venues could be matched on a record. Sheltering Sky answers this question as assertively as Drowning Horse possibly could.

Whilst the self-titled album walloped you with high intensity brutality at nearly every turn, Sheltering Sky is an exhibition of dramatic refinement and elemental cleverness. This does not mean that the new album is not as heavy as the last. If anything, rolling back the compression on the mix and adding more movement to the way the songs progress (as well as stand alongside each other) enhances the magnitude when Drowning Horse go full throttle now. For those who have had their taste already through the single, “The Barrow Stones”, this should be quite obvious.

The cloud of black smoke that permeates the album’s mood is as delightfully suffocating as ever. Even in its most rustic moments, Sheltering Sky oozes with ruminative dread, proving the point that the best doom takes far more than volume alone to best express heaviness. The album’s second track, “Echoes”, exemplifies this to perfection. To say it is instrumentally simple and sparse belies the cerebral dexterousness of the song’s arrangement. “Echoes” is the quintessence of that aforementioned “elemental cleverness,” a mantra with vocal variation between ghostly monastic chants and gloom-fuelled bellows magically intensified by adroit instrumental dynamic shifts throughout the song.

Such an acquired wealth of dynamic gear changes suggests a wide range of influences within Sheltering Sky’s oppressive sound. Many will point readily to pioneers such as Neurosis, Sunn O))), and Earth, but as always, there is far more to it than the obviousness of those who brought the hallmarks of other artists before them into the form of heavy music. In many discussions on Sheltering Sky, names like Godflesh, shades of Russian Circles, the Melvins, and even one big stretch to rhythmic hints of the first Butthole Surfer albums have come up. The hardcore background of Drowning Horse’s members remains clear through the vocals and swarming drones of feedback. What emerges from all of this is that, saddled with the tags of the oversaturated such as doom and drone, Drowning Horse have made an album that makes them distinctive and appealing across underground musical cliques. Whatever follows on from here, when this band’s music plays you won’t have to go through a list of names to figure out who it is.

Sheltering Sky proves a point often mentioned when it comes to those who know Drowning Horse’s music and performances well: they are, at the very least, a world class doom band. For all the qualities cited as to what makes this kind of music great, they are a band that should be at the forefront of any discussion of who the best doom and drone bands might be. Deeply invested in nothing other than their creative expression, this probably matters little (if not at all) to Drowning Horse. The purity of spiritual pursuit evident in their music speaks to this. It serves no purpose other than the sincerity of the journey it seeks to take players and listeners alike on. Regardless of whether or not it may matter to them, Sheltering Sky will propel Drowning Horse firmly to the heights of respect amongst doom lovers around the world and ignite a yearning for a taste of the spectacular experience of the band’s performances. If not, then it could only be that said lovers lack something genuine in their own musical convictions.

Sheltering Sky is out October 22 through Art as Catharsis and FalseXIdol Records.

Ought — Sun Coming Down

Wednesday, September 23rd, 2015

Ought’s second album Sun Coming Down is a deeply nihilistic release, but more in the way that Nietzsche talked about it his books than the way it’s often used by music critics to describe a sense of hopelessness or existential dread. Ought are aware that life lacks an accessible meaning, and instead of simply being sad about it, they want to use it as an excuse to smash down or ignore the dominant hierarchies, most of which are based upon some pretty shaky rational foundations. They sum it up in the final track, the cynically titled “Never Better”, where pseudo-optimistic lyrics like: “This is the high watermark of civilization,” are at odds with the violent energy and apocalyptic sound of the guitars. The mood is one of apathy and insanity, of a world that’s coming to an end. But the song itself is entirely different, strong in its convictions. And when taken as a part of the world that it describes, this satirical, progressive track can be seen as a little self-defeating, especially when it’s placed within the context of a year with a number of other innovative, high quality musical releases produced by other bands who, like Ought, are neither apathetic, nor willing to give in to despair. Ought describe the present state of things to turn against it, using it as motivation to create a better world. This focus is reflected by their music, which doesn’t really fit the mould of any pre-existing genre category.

Ought’s sound can be compared with Suicide for its rambling, narrative lyrics, Television for its vocals and guitars, even Talking Heads for its satirical, observational wit, but they don’t sound like any of those artists. “Men for Miles” bears a stylistic similarity to that energetic, semi-traditional post-punk of Australians like Soviet X-Ray Record Club or Gold Class, but the chorus is weirdly upbeat, and what semblance there is of structure emerges slowly, almost randomly along its 5 minute run time. “Passionate Turn” could almost be a pop song, with its bright guitars and catchy, rising choruses, but its melodies are atonal and repetitive and its vocals strange and alienating, making it difficult to imagine the song being satisfying to any kind of mainstream audience. The closest Ought get to a traditional structure is in the very long single track “Beautiful Blue Sky”, a mix of hypnotic repetition, ringing guitar tones, and introspective lyrics bearing close resemblance to “Once in A Lifetime” by Talking Heads. But it’s almost the singular example of a track that sounds like anything we’ve heard before. It doesn’t quite fit the mantle of post-punk, it’s too bleak for new wave, and too psychedelic for you to really call it punk.

In fact, the only thing it sounds like is Ought’s debut album, More Than Any Other Day. Sure, the sound is better, the structure of the songs is more precise, and there are some refreshing bursts of digital noise and lo-fi synths on “The Combo” and “On The Line”, providing evidence that the band are looking beyond their guitars to build a bigger version of their sound. But conceptually, the albums are the same. Ought are leaving post-punk altogether, assuming they were ever there to begin with, and moving out onto a separate genre that’s related to, but fundamentally different from, the ones that came before. They are a force unto themselves, a sound without a name, and while spiritual connections might be made with the soul-infused agitprop of Algiers, they don’t sound much like those bands either. But even if it doesn’t have a name yet, the sound Ought are making here is incredibly engaging, and they do it even better than they did on their debut. Who says there’s nothing new under the sun?

Sun Coming Down is out now through Constellation Records.

Ahab — The Boat of Glen Carrig

Thursday, September 17th, 2015

“…there came to me out of the immensity of weed that lay to leeward, a far distant sound that grew upon my ear, rising and rising into a fearsome screaming and shrieking, and then dying away into the distance in queer sobs, and so at last to a note below that of the wind’s. At this, as might be supposed, I was somewhat shaken in myself to hear so dread a noise coming out of all that desolation…”

Written by William Hope Hodgson at the turn of the 20th century, The Boats of the Glen Carrig is the account set in 1757 of shipwrecked survivors and their fearful tribulation drifting upon the open sea, eventually encountering a mysterious island whose implied sense of salvation disintegrates through a series of encounters with bizarre “monsters”. The topic and narrative style make Hodgson an obvious precursor to and influence upon the writings of Howard Phillips Lovecraft. Like many of the stories written by the more famous writer of those two authors, the value and evocative imagination of The Boats… is sifted from beneath a crust of challenging and archaic narrative style, a single narrator’s journal entries that at times go into even the most mundane level of detail. And, sure enough, beneath this jarring and often trying writing style, there is a dark and dramatic world that provides perfect inspiration for a brilliant album of doom metal.

The German band Ahab have, as their name might suggests, made it their conceptual modus operandi to draw inspiration from nautical literature that delves deeply into the effect the ocean has upon character. In terms of sound, Ahab are often referenced as one of the groups who have had a defining influence upon funeral doom as a whole. In fairness to musical history, their beginnings did come a good ten years after bands such as Unholy and Thergothon were at their peak; however, in terms of their themes and how they have both evolved and produced at such a consistently high level of quality as musicians, Ahab have certainly shown it is possible to stand out with aplomb from amidst a saturated stylistic mass. It is, therefore, reasonable to speculate that their effect on other doom musicians has been a powerful one, one great example being the Canadian band Sea Witch (who, whilst also aiming to create the sense of the sea, have sought out and established distinguishing characteristics for their sound that clearly set them apart from their peers).

If you had not guessed yet, for Ahab’s newest and fourth album the story the music is set to is Hodgson’s tale of The Boats of the Glen Carrig. For those familiar with both the short story and this new album’s predecessor (The Giant), the tale is an ideal opportunity for progression of that direction in which Ahab began to head back in 2012. Like The Giant, The Boats… instrumentally shifts between tranquil, bewitching calm and unforgiving storms of heaviness. The difference this time is simply that it flows in a more refined and effective manner, conveying the narrative dynamic of the album’s concept more organically and powerfully. Matching the story’s lulls and explosions of terror, the patient delivery of peace and beauty on the album lends greater impact to its heaviness, imbuing the latter with a greater feeling of escalating tension and subsequent invocation of the narrator’s spirit in the face of alien provocations of terror.

As the instrumental aspects have a more masterful handle on the dramatic transitions this time around, vocalist Daniel Drost has all that he needs to be permitted to articulate the story as brilliantly as he has ever been able to. Deft changes between clean vocals and phenomenal bellows brilliantly convey the transformation between the narrator’s musings at engagement with his fellow survivors, with their subtle lingering dread, into sheer panic and fright at confrontation with the hitherto unknown lifeforms of the island. The clean vocal parts are particularly wonderful, and serve greatly to further distinguish Ahab from their peers. In particular, the harmonized vocals over the top of such a beautiful guitar passage in the beginnings of “The Thing That Made Search” are as enjoyable as anything from a doom band you’ll hear this year.

With such a natural feeling developing to their stylistic transitions, The Boats of the Glen Carrig should gain them plenty of new lovers from outside the band’s previous niche. The Giant was, as all of their albums have been, a great listen. However, The Boats… creates a more well-thought-out and emotionally dynamic context in which The Giant begins to sound like an incomplete search for something, somewhat forced rather than a polished vision. If that is a valid opinion, then Ahab has now discovered its coveted fountain of conceptual storytelling, with flawless ebbs and flows that engross the listener and continually draw you back to experience the tale again. On this island of exotic horror, this band gels like it never has before.

Ahab’s The Boats of the Glen Carrig is out now through Napalm Records.

The Black Captain hosts RTRFM’s Out to Lunch Thursdays at 12pm (+8GMT) with Dave Cutbush.

Gold Class — It’s You

Tuesday, September 8th, 2015

From the opening seconds of “Furlong,” with its tin-can drums, brooding bass and clattering guitars, I knew this album would be something special. When Adam Curley’s vocals kicked in several seconds later — a combination of Morrissey’s pleading moans and Ian Curtis’s raw, commanding energy — I knew that I was hooked. This is probably the best post-punk album recorded in the last few years, beating out Savages, Nite Fields, and even Wire to the title, with its retro-sounding minimalist production married to an impossible union of UK and American references. It sounds like it could have been made in the 1980s, but its laser focus on disparate regional styles of post-punk, with complementary shades of British goth, is all 2015, taking full advantage of the far-reaching vision of its genre that the modern version of the internet allows.

If you believe that any of that is hyperbolic, you mustn’t be familiar with Melbourne’s Gold Class. In 2015, their early singles received almost daily airplay on 3RRR, helping to establish stratospheric expectations for their debut release. That album came out at the start of the month, and it’s every bit as mesmerizing as expected, with its bleak, hypnotic guitar riffs, pounding drums, and relentless, driving energy. Curley is the most like Ian Curtis that the current stage of the post-punk revival’s ever seen, with the same unique mix of confidence and nervous energy. The authenticity and character of his performance is the first and most exciting feature that you’ll notice on the album. Evan James Purdley’s Television-inspired guitar riffs will probably be the second, and it’s them that really help to differentiate this from the crop of similar post-punk artists drawing most of their inspiration from the British scene. Put simply, it’s an amazing new release that expands upon, and even exceeds, the exciting example set by their early singles, and almost every track is vital here.

“Life as a Gun” was the most memorable of their pre-album releases, with its fast tempo, hook-laden guitar work and commanding foghorn vocals. But it’s not even the most exciting song you’ll hear here, with gothic dance-floor filler “Bite Down” competing for the spot of most infectious single on the album. “Perverts” is dreamlike and accusatory. You’ll lose yourself for hours in its swirling guitars. “Half-Moon Over” sounds like a dream collaboration between Television, Joy Division and Sisters of Mercy that should have been on Marquee Moon. “Pro Clank” dives a little into Algiers territory, with its soulful vocals and stuttering jazz beat, coupled with powerful, inspirational lyrics (“Nothing can stop me / I’m ten million strong”), whereas “Michael” is nostalgic and sweet, with a narrative focus and a soaring, melancholic chorus: “And it all falls down, when you don’t want it to.” Couple that with gripping tracks like “The Soft Delay” and “Athena” – with its thunderous drums and dissonant guitar work – and round it off with the beautiful piano-driven “Shingles,” and you have something close to the perfect album. It stands proudly alongside its influences and its contemporaries, an inspiration for the future and an evocation of the past, both ground-breaking and traditional. Melbourne seems to have a lot of post-punk inspired bands making awesome music lately, but It’s You establishes Gold Class as one of the best.

When Total Giovanni and Mangelwurzel finally release their debut albums we might have a fight on our hands, but until then Gold Class are in a league of their own. Australia often gets overlooked when it comes to post-punk and new wave, so it’s inspiring to see so much of it, of such competitive quality, coming out of the country lately. And that’s not even touching the booming local shoegaze scene. If you’re interested in post-punk, trad goth, or local alternative music, don’t let this album pass you by. It’s the best debut to come out of Australia this year.

It’s You is out now through felte and Spunk Records.