Now here’s a great album to play next time the vicar pops round for a cup of tea. Invite him in, sit him down; offer a nice cuppa, custard cream perched tenderly on the side of the saucer, engage in some small talk about replacing the glass windows in the vestry. “What’s this delightful music?” the padre is sure to enquire. “Why, it’s the new album by Loose Sutures,” you reply helpfully, “it’s called “Sado Sex for Dummies””.
Of course, you’ll then be able to tell your friendly priest that Loose Sutures are a band from Sardinia, Italy – and that this is their third album. They’re a threesome, (oo-er), consisting of Antonio Pilo (guitars/vocals), Marcello Meridda (bass/percussion) and Marco Angius (drums/vocals). And what pleasant, well mannered young men they must be.
Their music is a divinely fuzzy, scuzzy stoner rock with an intoxicating slather of punk attitude. You can both bop along enthusiastically together in your armchairs to the rolling, out of control ‘Highway Shooter’, or bounce about gleefully to ‘Sadism and Gallows’. The fun continues with the sleazy punkorama of ‘White Line’, while ‘Kinky Katy’ (featuring Alain Johannes) and ‘He’s My Friend’ (featuring Nick Oliveri) offer cheap thrills and menacing rock, in that order.
If you, or your fellow upstanding members of society are fans of Kyuss, the first QOTSA album, fuzzy Mudhoney or maybe even a little Electric Wizard distorted doom, you’re sure to love this. Loose Sutures have recorded an album of wholesome, frolicking rock’n’roll that’s drenched in filth. Invite the neighbours round to sample it with coffee and a slice of Victoria sponge. Maybe leave the gimp locked in the under stairs cupboard for now, though.
A weekend of full on metal and hard rock, Pentre Fest is a highlight of my musical calendar. Held at McLean’s pub in Pentre, Deeside, North Wales over two days, the event always showcases some of the best bands from around a vast area of the UK.
This year I missed Friday’s gig as I was otherwise engaged. However, I was raring to go for Day 2, and a whole load of awesome music. Here’s my review for Ever Metal, covering everything I could of that day’s entertainment.
Day 2
Day 2 at Pentre fest – you could say I was a bit excited to get going. The ever-reliable Edd Case was performing in the marquee outside as I arrived, so I missed a chunk of his set sadly, as I paid my hard earned coin to get in and neck my first ale. Luckily, Edd did another slot of his excellent acoustic performance later on, so I got to catch him then. I think he was filling in for some band called Trashatouille, who couldn’t be arsed to turn up and attempt to play their own acoustic effort.
First band on the indoor main stage was Scarfoot, and they made a hell of an impression. A three-piece band, they add an extra edge to their already formidable musicianship with the use of a 12 string guitar or a Dobro. This gives the band a huge, Zep-epic and individual sound. They all play with a convincing passion and were absolutely enthralling. I’d never seen them before, but had caught singer/guitarist Oliver Carins last year doing a solo acoustic set. Next time, these guys need to be higher up the bill! Scarfoot also blazed all over the acoustic stage later on, with a similarly massive sounding set, even without the drums.
Frank Williams
Next on the second stage: a World Exclusive Live Debut! Frank Williams in his first official live gig, though sadly not billed asVictim of Damp. Frank is a Pentre Fest die hard, an unsung hero who has supported the event and pitched in with Fozzie and Beany from the beginning. This afternoon, Frank graced us with some acoustic covers (nice bit of Floyd) and banter, then introduced some comrades to help with humorous originals such as ‘Beany’s Car is Full of Shit’. Excellent crowd participation helped Frank’s set gallop home as a pedigree winner.
It really wouldn’t be Pentre Fest without these guys. With a line-up change – or should I say, addition – in the shape of new vocalist, Gaz (who used to be the drummer. Come on, keep up!). This latest incarnation of Lullaby for a Unicorn was a refreshed and fun stallion, rather than a lame pony. There’s a little work to do to settle the new line-up in, but it was the same boisterous energy as ever as the Unicorn boys turned Pentre into a beautiful, rainbow adorned meadow. Or blood-soaked battle field of metal mayhem, you choose.
Scarfoot was next on the second stage. I’ve already covered that, go back and read it again.
Despite a tech issue with the bass throwing a wangler with the first song, The Human Condition kept their shit together and provided another surprise. I had done no research whatsoever and didn’t know what to expect. By Odin’s beard, The Human Condition are a megalithic, doom metal colossus! Doom in the vein of Candlemass, or think Geoff Tate screaming for Trouble. Riffs are drip fed, leaving the audience begging for each new note. Add the most powerful live vocals I’ve heard in eons, and you have a force of biblical proportions. I bought a CD. You should check them out NOW.
Back to the Second stage for an acoustic Pelugion set – but we’ll get to them later.
A melodic deathcore band from Manchester way, Portrayal of Ruinn isn’t quite my thing on paper, but fucking awesome live. Possibly the most energetic band on stage at Pentre Fest all day, their combination of gutsy, nasty metal and bouncy, yet ferocious vocals proved a winner. They also know how to pace their set brilliantly – a few mellow sections lull the crowd into a comfy security blanket, only to have it ripped maliciously away. It’s the audio equivalent of a Video Nasty psycho killer – you’re never safe, Portrayal of Ruinn will never stop – and they will get you in the end!
Reading back my notes here, and I can’t make a thing out of them. All I can fathom is that I REALLY liked this band: “Syncolima = great!” is about all I’ve got. They were excellent. Some kind of biker/stoner super heavy rock, they have groove aplenty and massive fuzzed out riffs. This three-piece from Mansfield, Notts were unmissable. New album “Wavelengths” is out soon, you’d be wise to watch out for it.
Wait a minute – it’s that bloke from Bad Earth doing an acoustic set! Yes, it’s Steve from one of Pentre Fest’s favourite bands, backed with the other two ‘orrible ‘erberts, Karl and Ben (so semi acoustic, then?). The Bad Earth songs translate surprisingly well to the stripped-down sound, though they can’t compare to the full force fury of the full trio amped up and going for it. But then, what could? A great set that also included some cruel (ie hilarious) comedy signage behind Steve’s head, it also delivered a much needed bongo workout that was otherwise sadly lacking this year.
Mind. Blown. Thank the trident of Posiedon, King Kraken travelled up from South Wales (a right old trek) to play Pentre Fest, and I’m so glad they did. The Kraken are a huge, boisterous metal machine with crushing riffs and awash with an almost psychedelic lead guitar. My favourite band of the day, despite fierce competition – I made off with some booty from the merch desk and toasted their performance with a tankard of ale. Please check this band out, you will not regret it. Magnificent!
Last year, one man electronica fiend Leatherback was first on the Pentre Fest main stage. This year, it’s a second stage headlining slot, which worked well. Nine Inch Nails comparisons are obvious, but relevant when there’s a cover of a Reznor classic included. Leatherback ripped through a roaring set that went down extremely well with the lively crowd, even though it was freezing outside – receiving a well-deserved, enthusiastic reception.
Pelugion had performed an excellent acoustic set on the second stage earlier, which seems to have been a great way for them to warm up for their main stage appearance. I’ve seen these guys before at Pentre Fest and they never disappoint. Skull smashing mega riffs, born from Sabbath and with a dose of Alice in Chains and early Soundgarden – a stoner/alt metal monster – is what you can expect. These guys are super professional, but with grit and determination that keeps the performance compelling.
Headliners on the final day of Pentre Fest, The K*nts drove over five hours from down Essex way to entertain us. With hits such as that Christmas favourite ‘Boris Johnson is a F*cking C*nt’ and ‘F*ck the Tories’, we knew we were in for a treat. Hilariously, the Green Room reserved for the bands had been double booked with a meeting for a local Masonic Lodge. I wonder how The K*nts and this bunch of blazer-and-badge wearing eighty-year-olds got along back stage. Honestly, you can’t make this shit up. It’s like Phoenix Nights on crack.
A strange choice to headline a metal festival for some, never the less The K*nts put on a top show and had the audience on their side before the first song was even finished. Delightfully obscene, but with a political edge that helps retain a tiny bit of highbrow cred too, it’s like Sham 69 with Tourette’s. Most of the song titles are unrepeatable for a family website like Ever Metal, but let’s just say that The K*nts and their filthy brand of punk rock and humour were a mad but genius way to finish Pentre Fest off. And it probably will be finished off, if those old Masonic dudes have anything to say about it.
Oh, and yeah – Fuck the Tories.
It was my absolute pleasure to cover Pentre Fest for Ever Metal again this year. Huge thanks to the bands, the audience, and the staff at McLean’s for putting this on. And finally, thanks to Fozzy and Beany for daring to dream it up and make it happen.
I just wish Pentre Fest could be every weekend. Or once a month, at least.
As I write this, we’re sweltering in a record-breaking heatwave. North Wales, which is where I’m based – and also where the nerve centre of Ever Metal can be found – has had some of the highest temperatures in the whole of the UK. It’s crazy. And so, a new album from desert rock titans Nebula seems extremely apt right now. “Transmissions from Mother Ship Earth” has arrived at exactly the right time.
And it arrives with a welcome burst of fuzz drenched psych rock, exactly as expected, in first track, ‘Highwired’. Big fat riff, dashes of space rock and a whiff of herbal cigarettes: classic Nebula, really. Up next is the title track, which adds some nice, sixties secret agent vibes to the melting pot, together with a punishingly heavy section.
‘Wilted Flowers’ begins with a mellow guitar section before exploding into a thunderous head tripper. There’s a feel of Mudhoney and the Stooges with Nebula’s best work, as evidenced here and with ‘Melt Your Head’. Other tracks like ‘Warzone Speedwulf’ and “The Four Horseman’ sound like early Monster Magnet dripped in acid fried Steppenwolf and left to dry in a Tarantino desert landscape.
No surprises then with this latest Nebula release, and with titles like ‘I Got So High’ you can guess exactly what to expect. But who cares? “Transmissions from Mothership Earth” is a solid album of pounding rhythms and spaced-out fuzz rock. It’s bound to make my end of year best of list, and right now it’s the perfect soundtrack for summer. Enjoy, fellow explorers – it’s gonna piss it down with rain tomorrow.
Talking about nebula and space and galaxies and all that, did I tell you about the great telescope trick we played on Bill Ward once? It was at Brian May’s house, and he’s well into all that astrology business. Bri’s got this huge telescope for star gazing. So Tony, Ozzy, Geezer and me persuaded Bill to take a look. What he didn’t know was that Brian had put black paint inside the lens, so Bill ended up with a great big, black monocle on his face. Bill didn’t realise, and walked round like that all night – extremely paranoid as to why all the guests were laughing at him. Great fun!
Back in early 1970, I was in LA working for Jim Morrison, singer of the Doors. Morrison was a pretentious, drunken bore – but we did have a few old laughs. This one time, Jimbo was mid-liaison with a young lady in her upstairs apartment, and I had to pick him up in his new car before the pair were interrupted by her husband. Parked in a gleaming white Dodge Challenger under the first-floor window, there was no fire escape and Jim had to jump out of the window onto the roof of his car. It was a hard top, not a cabriolet, and Jim’s fat arse flattened it like an egg box when he hit it. He wasn’t in the best shape at that point. Wrecked that beautiful car, too. Luckily, I could still see out of the window, and drove off in hysterics, while chubby Jim tried to squeeze into his tiny leather trousers.
Great days, indeed. And the memories of that time always come flooding back when I spin one of these Brown Acid compilations from RidingEasy Records. Yet again, the guys have dug out some long-lost treasures of the early hard rock and proto metal variety, to return phoenix like from the netherworld.
Things get underway splendidly with “Run Run” by Max, a funky riff rocker that will light up your lava lamp straight away. It’s probably my favourite on another strong collection. Next is “Dark Street” by Ralph Williams and the Wright Brothers – fuzzy guitars and great vocal melodies with a faint air of menace. Geyda provide “Third Side”, another pacey rocker, reminiscent of the MC5.
Following that, there’s Gary Del Vecchio, who’s apparently “Buzzin’”. But then, who wasn’t in those days?! It’s party time blues rock in the vein of early Zep. John Kitko is suffering from “Indecision”, as proven by the psychedelic jam of the start contrasting with the speedy, aggressive main body of the song – with Alice Cooper-like vocals.
“Hope” by Bacchus reminded me of old Jimbo’s band doing “Roadhouse Blues”. Master Danse are up next with a very heavy blues number, “Feelin’ Dead”. It’s a slow, ponderous song with a melancholy vibe – which I’ll swear was stolen by The Cult for their obscure B-side “Wolf Child’s Blues”.
Orchid offer up the weakest track on the album, “Go Big Red”, a fairly unexceptional garage rock number. It’s fun and still has some charm, though. Then you’ve got Dry Ice and “Don’t Munkey with the Funky Skunky”, a crazy fast paced number that’s like The Monkees and Jimi Hendrix jamming a Eurovision novelty song. On drugs. Finally, a strong final track from Good Humore, “Detroit” – a catchy tribute with a sprinkling of MC5 at their most rock’n’roll.
And there we have it: another fine collection of rock fossils unearthed and displayed for our enjoyment, never to be forgotten again. It may be “the Thirteenth Trip”, but this ain’t unlucky for some – it’s gold all the way.
Remember that World Wide Web thing? Well, you can check out RidingEasy Records at various site webs, such as their own, Bandcamp, Facebooks, Twidder, ChewTube and Insta.
This review was presented to you by Platinum Al in association with Ever Metal.
Well, who’d have thought it? Here’s the twelfth instalment of the Brown Acid series from RidingEasy Records, their ongoing exploration of rare, lost and forgotten treasures from the late 60s and early seventies. These proto-metal, hard rock and heavy psych riches are continuing to turn up, thankfully curated and shared with a new, wider audience. They still haven’t run out of steam, which is very good news.
This time, the Professors of Rock (“Prockfessors”, anyone? Nah, never mind) have released ten more crazily good tracks from the past. As can be expected, the bands are deep fried and the guitars are fuzzier than a Macdonalds burger-flipper’s chin.
And so, we commence with “Mother Samwell” by The Waters: a blinding, acid-drenched rocker from 1969. How can this have been lost for so long? Up next is “Vibrations” by Village S.T.O.P.; featuring Hendrix style guitar in another pacey rocker. Though very much of their time, these songs pack a ton of energy – you’re gonna want to freak out. Right out.
“1930” was quite a year, claim White Lightning, with a funky, chunky marauder of a tune that’s like Grand Funk, on the rare occasions GF got it right. Shane serves up some proper skronky organ with “Woman (Don’t You Go)”, reminiscent of a shrieky, early Purple. Then the keyboards get even skronkier with Ace Song Service’s “Persuasion”, though the attack is harsher.
Opus Est really kick out the jams with “Bed”, which has a killer riff that would please Gibbons or Page. The Mopptops have a terrible band name (maybe that’s why they disappeared), but their song “Our Lives” is one of the heavier, more vicious sounding tracks here. It’s a punk rock bruiser that seems totally out of time – surely this can’t be 1968?
A bland band name, but Artist inject their song “Every Lady Does It” with enough hip-shaking Hendrix raunch to raise the roof. Great chorus too; this is faultless. Then it’s more great lo-fi garage ZZ Top with “Comin’ Home” by Stagefright, before we finish with Dickens (great name!) and their weird fuzz metal with minimal production, “Don’t Talk About My Music”.
Whether they’re discovering hidden gems in dusty tombs, or exhuming abandoned corpses and bringing them back to life – pick your metaphor: the RidingEasy Forensics Department have managed to surprise yet again. Their quest seems never ending, but we can be thankful that these dedicated scholars continue to discover hitherto abandoned sonic delights.
It’s harder to pick out gems which shine brighter than the others this time around, but “Brown Acid: the Twelfth Trip” manages to reach a high standard across the board. Very enjoyable, and recommended listening for when Jimi and Janis pop round for some mushroom tea.
Writing these reviews for Ever Metal isn’t easy, you know. I’m sure I speak for the whole writing team when I say that we pour our heart and soul into all our prose. Each of us lives with the fear of the dreaded Writer’s Block, gnawing at our bones. So, I decided that my review of this reissue of the 2016 debut album by Barbarian Hermit, released by the mighty APF Records, would need some help.
But who could assist with such a task? Why none other than my old friend, Volkrugg the Decimator – barbarian warlord of Ages Long Forgotten. Of course: no-one is better qualified! And seeing as I’ve basically been a hermit for the last year, between us we should have it covered.
Take it away, Volkrugg…
“Greetings, people of the 21st century! I am Volkrugg the Decimator – warlord of the Mist Realm, conqueror of the Thorspian cities, leader of the barbarian hordes of Vossk. My good friend, Al, has begged me for my musings concerning the recorded work of Barbarian Hermit, and lo – shall I render it unto thee with vicious glee!
“From the very start, these seven songs burst forth like an army of Ionian Thrask Vandals! They wield their war axes with vengeful power, surging down from the mountains on thundering hooves of hell. The brief respite of sometime calmer moods offer shelter from the maelstrom of war, yet always the majesty and power of conflict lurks temptingly!
“Verily, hearing these odes, I was mindful of my fallen brothers from glorious battles past – gone but ne’er forgotten, proudly drinking and brawling in Valhalla!”
There you go, I couldn’t have said it better myself. “One” is a great, sludgy, fuzzy celebration of relentless force and mesmerising intricacies. Both Volkrugg, his band of berserker warriors and myself are all big fans. You’d be a fool of mythic proportions to miss this album, and be warned – Volkrugg fed his last court jester to a tiger. Barbarian Hermit reviewed by a barbarian and a hermit – you can’t get a more honest opinion than that.
One of the best things about the Brown Acid series is imagining the alternate reality where these songs, long forgotten in the mists of rock’n’roll legend, actually attained the success so many of them deserve. A world where these long-lost bands are as equally revered as BOC, Grand Funk or the MC5. The same world, probably, where Lemmy’s still alive, Trump never got near the White House and the last Star Wars film came out in 1983.
But maybe that’s just me. What I do know, is that the Brown Acid series from RidingEasy Records offers up another batch of ten proto heavy rockers that have been excavated from the depths of memory and given new purpose. Lovingly curated and nursed back to life; then unleashed upon a musical landscape that didn’t know it needed the songs, but by Jimi – we’re thankful for them.
The first track on this compilation, “Something Else” by Adam Wind, didn’t flip my switch much at first. After a couple of plays, however, the Hendrix style guitar frenzy did the trick. Then the marvellously named Grump rock out with “I’ll Give You Love”, reminiscent of the mighty Steppenwolf with skronky organs and scratchy guitar.
“Diamond Lady” from Larry Lynn is a fantastic punchy, psychedelic number. Then midway through the album, we get “In Wyrd” by Renaissance Fare. This track sounds like the Doors being particularly annoying when they’re on the wrong drugs. Thankfully, at under 3 minutes, it avoids some of Jimbo and pals’ lengthier exasperations; it’s the only challenge on an otherwise album of rock’n’roll killers.
My highlight of the collection is “Just Can’t Say” by Day Break – a boogie influenced groover with desert rock swagger. Debb Johnson contribute “Dancing in the Ruin”, which packs Stax style brass to great effect, and finally Crazy Jerry rounds things off with the riff-tastic “Every Girl Gets One”.
The Eleventh Trip in this series continues to surprise and entertain. It’s a compilation that’s so solid you’d need a forklift to move it. Dig out your flares and love beads, heat up the lava lamp – it’s party time again!
By the way, I invented the term “skronky organs” and I’m trademarking it.
Track listing:
Adam Wind – Something Else
Grump – I’ll Give You Love
Bagshot Row – Turtle Wax Blues
Larry Lynn – Diamond Lady
Renaissance Fair – In Wyrd
Zendik – Mom’s Apple Pie Boy
Day Break – Just Can’t Say
West Minist’r – I Want You
Debb Johnson – Dancing in the Ruin
Crazy Jerry – Every Girl Gets One
Check out RidingEasy Records on the world wide web here or on Bandcamp here.
Between me and you, I’ve been wondering when this series of proto metal/heavy psyche long-lost artifacts would start to go off the boil. This is the tenth instalment now, and any listener could be forgiven for thinking that maybe, the well might run dry. That the party is over, the acid has worn off, and the hippies have traded in their kaftans for the last time. I mean, how much of these rare, forgotten nuggets can there be left, for the rock’n’roll gravediggers at Riding Easy Records to exhume?
Well pardon me for being a fanboy, but the Brown Acid trip is far from over. In fact, this could be my favourite volume so far.
Yes, it’s more of the same: fuzzy, psychedelic late 60s/early 70s heavy rock; somehow cast aside for around fifty years, waiting to be rediscovered. Gems that pre-date and redefine the genealogical development of metal and hard rock; throwing the long-standing theories of origin into dispute like some musical Antikythera mechanism. But this time, if anything, the tunes are better than ever.
Here we have Sounds Synonymous with “Tensions”, a fuzz-rock monster with a “Wild Thing” feel and washes of freaky organ not a million miles removed from Steppenwolf. Witness also the wonder of “Never Again” from Ralph Williams and the Wright Brothers, melding melodic vocals with an “American Woman” style desert rock vibe. “Babylon” by Conception rolls with some funky, Hendrix-like riffs and a great pop sensibility, not to mention a fabulous bluesy instrumental section.
Bitter Creek deliver “Plastic Thunder”, which has a Who meets Stooges aggressive sound. On “Mr. Sun”, First State Bank (rad name!) provide a Mountain-covering-the-Kinks lesson in far-out groovery. Then there’s Brothers and One with the saucily titled “Hard On Me”, which has a little Hawkwind on a road to Maiden’s “Running Free”.
Probably the best track is “The Roach”, by The Brood (another quality name). It’s a MC5/Sabbath garage rocker with apocalyptic horns and keys, heralding the end of peace and love and the arrival of the age of doom.
Freaky, fuzzy and far-out: that’s the latest edition of Brown Acid. If you’re late to the party, jump on the magic bus right now and let your hair down. Signs are this festival is gonna run and run.
Here’s a link to the Riding Easy Recordswebsite and their Bandcamp.
“Crater Maker”, by Columbus Ohio rascals Weed Demon, begins with the warm and welcoming hiss and crackle of vinyl. Then we’re into the first track “Atmospheric Drag”, and you’d be forgiven for thinking that you’re in the wrong section of the record shop. It’s a dark, folky country number that sounds like you’ve just stumbled into a saloon in a God forsaken Western town. I was taken by surprise, but this song is both awesome and a fitting introduction to an album that isn’t afraid to wander off the obvious path.
When track two, “Birthquake” lumbers in, we’re in familiar doomy Sabbath territory. It’s a stark contrast to the opening song, but brilliant as that was, this is what we came for. Big, dirty riffage that’s slow yet powerful, the result is an instrumental song that relies purely on dynamics to excite and uplift. This is bloody great stuff.
The next track, “Serpent Merchant”, is even heavier and more relentless – with growling vocals making a demonic appearance. It all descends into a masterful, psychedelic break before the pummelling returns. The album’s title track delivers a groove laden sludge, which again dissolves into a mellow passage at pretty much exactly the halfway mark. Gradually becoming fuzzier, this soon explodes into a frenzied, aggressive section.
The remaining tracks offer more crunching guitars, thudding bass, booming vocals and pounding rhythms, always concentrating on the all-important doom riff. Final track “Sporelord” wanders through several segments, before briefly fading away and returning with a quirky reggae style outro.
With four of the six songs here over the 8 minute mark, there’s a lot to explore and digest with “Crater Maker”. Weed Demon have created a dense album that I enjoyed from the first listen and I’m still returning to weeks later. Meandering into psychedelic space rock, groovy doom, country and ear-splitting sludge ensures “Crater Maker” is a complex release that’s worth hearing.
All this talk of weeds reminds me of a funny little escapade with my old mate Keith Moon. Moony lived next door to his big pal Ollie Reed, who asked the loony drummer to keep an eye on his mansion while he was in Europe, filming some naff horror/arthouse nonsense. Moon had a party, got totally blitzed and remembered at about 4am that he hadn’t mowed Ollie’s lawn for him. Well, you can imagine the laughs we had, as Keith tried to start the ride-on petrol mower in the dark. Without going into too much detail, a split fuel pipe and a discarded cigarette resulted in most of Reed’s garden looking like it had been napalmed.
Ollie wasn’t best pleased when he returned to see the unholy mess Keith had left him with. But Moon just blamed Ringo Starr, who made a quick exit when drunken Ollie brought out his shotgun. Ringo had the last laugh though, by marrying the most beautiful woman in the world. Jammy git.
And now, I present an album review I wrote for Ever Metal; a recording that became one of my favourites of 2019:
Giant Dwarf – Giant Dwarf
Self Released
Release date: 09/04/2019
Running Time: 36 minutes
Review by: Alun Jones
9.5/10
I’ve never been to Australia. Don’t need to go there really, I know exactly what it’s like. It’s like that David Bowie video where he’s inside a big concrete block in the middle of nowhere. “Let’s Dance” – that’s the one. Or it’s like Mad Max 2: all arid desert, people surviving on dog food and a struggle to exist without civilisation.
So, it’s quite apt that such a barren, isolated place has decided to gift us with an album that is, quite frankly, a masterpiece of desert rock. Or outback rock, if you will.
This is “Giant Dwarf”, by the band Giant Dwarf, who hail from somewhere called Perth in Western Australia.
Right from the start, with opener “Golden Walrus”, the album bursts from the speakers like Gandalf after a month-long Charles Atlas course. The songs are tough and uncompromising, yet cerebral. “Black Thumb” and “Kepler” in particular will make you put your foot down on the accelerator and bang your head – whilst absorbing the intricate tapestry of the universe.
It’s all pounding rhythms and hypnotic, repeating riffs. On first encounter, the album seems very – shall we say, inspired by – Kyuss and the first Queens of the Stone Age album. Aaron Soppo (vocals) can even do a pretty convincing Josh Homme impersonation. Which is no bad thing, in my book – in fact, it’s a sure fired recipe for success.
Further investigation reveals far more than this obvious comparison, however. As well as a more fuzzed-up guitar sound – not unlike a particularly fried Fu Manchu – there’s a trippy, psychedelic sheen to the muscular groove. There’s even sitar and didgeridoo on here, in wave after wave of glorious chunky riff and rolling beats.
“The Deluge” illustrates this breadth of feeling with a six minute plus track that undulates between exuberant rocker and introspective meander in just one epic song.
If I have one small criticism, I’d like to hear a track like “Strange Wool” – a mind melting instrumental track that’s quite brilliant – dragged out to three times it’s two-minute length. Even more development and experimentation would really push Giant Dwarf further into a new dimension. But keep the edge-of-the-seat rockers too, OK guys?
“Giant Dwarf” comes within a koala’s cock of perfection. Powerful like the venom of a Death Adder, yet enticing like Natalie Imbruglia. It really is that good: from out of nowhere, an album that will surely be in my end of year Top Five.
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