Celavi are a Goth, Industrial Nu-Metal project created by Sarah and Gwion, two spirited individuals from Bangor in North Wales. I picked up a copy of their new EP, “Anima”, which is a surprisingly fresh and fierce attack on all of the above genres, not to mention a whole load more.
The first track is ‘lowercase’ which opens with an Electro Rock flourish and hammers the listener with a mix of danceable beats and aggro power chords. The rest of the EP follows in a similar vein, with satisfyingly crushing Metal guitar melded to infectious Electro and embellished with glorious female vocals that run from sweet to tormented.
‘Bite My Tongue’ features whispered vocals over a restrained, pulsing beat before an enormous chorus crashes out of the speakers. ‘Iodine’ is a fast paced, punch the air rocker with a relentlessly infectious chorus and ‘Eyeliner’ is the most uncompromising track here. The catchiest song though is probably ‘Lullaby’, an Industrial Pop Metal confection that’s equal parts magnificent melodies and brutal guitar riff.
“Anima” wasn’t on my radar, but thanks to being in the right place at the right time, I’ve been able to absorb this work and enjoy it immensely. Anyone who’s a fan of Nine Inch Nails, Linkin Park, Lacuna Coil or Rammstein should be able to find something to get stuck into here. Ideal music for an unhinged time in a vampire night club, Celavi are ones to watch.
The Saddle is the number one – and surely only – Rock based pub in the City of Chester. A town more famed for drunken shenanigans and expensive outfits for the Races, this is the playground of the Cheshire Set and the wannabes. A home of Metal it is not. Not usually, anyway – except for the welcoming haven of The Saddle.
And for one weekend in April, the tiny G21 venue at the back of the pub hosted the second North West Doom Fest: two days of the heaviest, doomiest metal in the land. Absolutely fan-fucking-tabulous!
The evening began with Druid’s Cross, from not far away at all Liverpool. I’ve seen this band before, and knew they would be ideal to commence the festivities. Harsh vocals lead relentless, dynamic riffs with a traditional metal feel as well as a slow, doomy pace. There’s a dark, gothic edge to the music as well, resulting in a compelling sound that grabbed everyone’s attention from the start..
Festival organisers Lorraine and Mark were up next, with their amazing three-piece band, Warlockhunt. I’d also seen this band before, and I’m always amazed by the complexity of their dual bass and tribal drums sound. The other worldly female vocals have led to this band being described as Doom Pop (I coined that phrase, actually, thank you very much) and it’s easy to see why. Always different and always captivating.
Grim skeletal figures flanking the stage, inverted crosses and a duo wearing dark cloaks: Tumanduumband aren’t exactly shy of revelling in their ominous personas. What they are, is a West Midlands based Satanic Doom band, and their music is both atmospheric and heavy as hell itself. Fuzzed out, crushing riffs mean that the visuals aren’t inappropriate – this band is growing a cult based on their own dark riff-tuals.
Headlining tonight, and admittedly one of my favourite bands out there these days, the mighty Son of Boar rightfully took their place at the top of the bill. I became a big fan after seeing them play Pentre Fest some years ago. Bass wrangler Gaz is also an Ever Metal scribe, not that I’m biased at all, honest! Son of Boar played a set that was tight and forceful, with ear-worm riffs and thundering rhythms. Tusks up! The boys brought the HEH-VEEE, then slept the night on the floor of the venue, ‘cos they rock that hard.
Two years ago, the album “This Sceptred Veil” by Sergeant Thunderhoof made such an impression on me that it topped my end of year Top 10 for Ever Metal. So this latest release has some pretty big boots to fill. The pressure is on, for the band and also for your friendly scribe: I’m gonna need some new adjectives in my arsenal to do this work justice.
A mellow guitar and whistle intro brings the listener into the world of “The Ghost of Badon Hill”. First track ‘Badon’ opens with an almost Folky feel, and in true Thunderhoof style, takes it’s time to grow and breathe. We’re nearly halfway through before the delicate, introspective section explodes into something epic, and the hairs on the back of your neck reach for the sky.
‘Blood Moon’ tricks the listener with a melodic intro, before a truly classic mega-riff gets the heart pounding. The guitars of Mark Sayer and new member Josh Gallup (who also recorded the album with the band) are multi textured throughout the album, expertly ranging from the mighty to the fragile. A pseudo-Blues introduces ‘The Orb of Octavia’, before settling on a melancholy, gentle feel. Augmented by Daniel Flitcroft’s soaring vocals (surely amongst the best in the UK), it’s not long before the heavy is unleashed.
‘Salvation for the Soul’ is the most immediate and Stoner/Doom related of this collection, and it quickly became a personal favourite. “For tonight, we ride!” – trust me, kids: THAT is a chorus!
I’ve favourably compared Sergeant Thunderhoof to Soundgarden previously – which holds true with ‘Sentinel’ – and there’s also a strong Floydian feel here too. The changes of pace on all the tracks ably demonstrate the expertise of the rhythm section, Jim Camp on bass and Darren Ashman on drums. Both are confident and play with finesse. All good things come to an end though, and our final song here, ‘Beyond the Hill’, is a ten-minute plus opus that builds through several stages on a monumental journey.
One element of this recording that’s obvious from the start, is the length of the album. The band made a conscious decision to lay down some boundaries and write a record that would fit on a single, rather than double, vinyl album. Whereas I could lament the shorter running time, it does make sense to condense what the band do best. And there’s still a cornucopia of sonic delights to enjoy regardless. I mean, I haven’t even discussed the lyric content of the record yet! There’s plenty enough folklore, legend and mystery to keep the audience engaged and coming back for more and more.
“The Ghost of Badon Hill” is mission accomplished for Sergeant Thunderhoof. A great new album, reigned in a little timewise, but sonically still delivering a cerebral and visceral punch. Another Top 10 contender, no problem.
Wow, was I asleep or something there? How did I manage to miss Uncle Slam back in the late 80s/early 90s heyday of crossover? At that point in time, I was 100% in this bands target demographic: young skateboarder with a love of hardcore punk and thrash metal. And yet Uncle Slam and I never crossed paths till now. Thanks to Dissonance/Cherry Red records, we have this double album compilation of the bands second and third albums, and I can fill in some gaps.
The obvious starting point here is Suicidal Tendencies. It’s a lazy option to begin here, but the similarities in sound and style between Uncle Slam and ST are so abundant that we can’t ignore them. Both bands are from the Venice, LA scene, with various members of Suicidal appearing within the ranks of Uncle Slam at one point or another. Anyone (like me) just arriving to this mosh pit will be astounded how the Slam guys seem to have been largely forgotten.
The first album, “Will Work For Food”, features a satisfying metal crunch along with the punk energy. To be fair, the influence of ST, early COC and DRI mingle with the classic thrash of Testament and Nuclear Assault pretty seamlessly. Fans of any of those bands will dive straight into ‘Left for Dead’ and ‘Roadkill’ right from the off. The rest of disc 1 follows in a similar frenzy of crunching metal guitars and aggressive pace, and it’s all great fun. The only oddity is a re-working of Led Zeppelin’s ‘Dazed and Confused’, barely recognisable as it’s been reimagined so drastically – but brilliant for it.
Disc 2 presents us with Uncle Slam’s third and final album, ”When God Dies”, released in 1995. By this time, dominant musical genres had fluctuated, and this record shows Uncle Slam developing their sound. The title track opener thus delivers more chunky metal, but shoe-horns some funky breaks in the style of (Suicidal off-shoot) Infectious Grooves. It’s a less thrash, more punk and alt rock influenced sound, but although something of a departure, it still works for the most part. As a result, songs like ‘Procreation’ still rock, but ‘Summer in Space’ is just silly.
For some, this collection will be too similar to good old Suicidal Tendencies to stand on its own merit. I would disagree: there are plenty of other influences here, not just the main offenders. And who cares, anyway? This isn’t just a sound, it’s a whole vibe – Venice beach, Dogtown, punk rock and skateboarding on a never-ending summer vacation. Uncle Slam deserve their moment in the spotlight, and I’m not gonna deprive them of it. Neither should you.
There’s some Uncle Slam on Spotify for you to check out.
This review is presented by Platinum Al and Ever Metal.
Pointless review of the month time! But why, pray tell, is this review of the new Orange Goblin album “pointless”? Because, old pal, literally everyone knows that Orange Goblin are a BIG THING. And they haven’t released an album for seven years. So this release, surely, will be near the top of everyone’s wish list for 2024. Especially in the case of our esteemed Ever Metal readers, who as we all know, are a cut above the rest of the uncultured rabble out there.
Without patronising our dear readership in anyway, a new release from these London doom/stoner/heavy metal scoundrels is, and should be, a BIG THING.
Anyone who’s already a fan of Orange Goblin can expect more of what has come before, but it’s safe to say, “Science, Not Fiction” is amped up a little more than usual. The same killer riffs, powerful delivery, ace musicianship, clever style variations are all in place as expected, but tweaked just a little higher. Right from first listen, it’s obvious that quality control has been merciless on this recording, resulting in a collection of peak songcraft.
‘The Fire at the Center of the Earth is Mine’ opens the engines in fine form. After a cacophonous intro marked by belching bass, the riff kicks in and the ride begins. A furious “death boogie” with a super catchy, uplifting chord structure for the chorus, this is prime Goblin.
There’s no room for a breather, with second track ‘(Not) Rocket science’ bolting out next – a relentless hell ride that features a killer lead bass break (courtesy of new four stringer Harry Armstrong). It’s probably my favourite song on the album: Ben Ward’s voice booming and Joe Hoare’s guitar threatening to jump the gate and roar off into the night on its own.
An epic, mid-seventies Sabbath-doom vibe pervades ‘False Hope Diet’, with its bouncing groove and changes. ‘Cemetary Rats’ starts with a gloomy, gothic vibe before exploding into something akin to old school thrash a la Testament. Through all tracks, Chris Turner’s drums are dependably solid and thunderous.
‘The Justice Knife’ is another fast rocker that benefits from some outer space wah-wah guitar, though generally speaking, the latter half of the album doesn’t quite have the heights of invention that earlier tracks possess. The last song, ‘End of Transmission’, fields a suitably epic and raucous finale, however – soaring through sections with determined power.
My only slight gripe with “Science, Not Fiction” is that the bonus track ‘Eye of the Minotaur’ appears to be CD only – which means vinyl fanatics like yours truly will miss out. Nevermind, this album is a devastating power house of modern metal. Orange Goblin have created a record that demonstrates all we love them for, and ladled on a good-sized helping of extra sauce to sweeten the deal. One of THE albums of 2024, “Science, Not Fiction” will be guaranteed a place in my annual Top10.
Ready for something a little different? Something born from the familiar, but tantalisingly different? Then step right this way, Platinum Al has a musical odyssey that will intrigue you. We’re talking about the debut album from Devil Moon Risen, a trio out of Phoenix, Arizona, and it’s all kinds of unexpected.
We’re starting in the realm of desert rock, but Devil Moon Risen have added some spice to their chimichanga with elements of punk, sludge and doom metal. So, off we go with a thuddingly heavy, groovy chugger in ‘Bad Sketch of a Killer’ that twists into a creepy waltz and back again.
Like Primus playing QOTSA songs on an album produced by the late great Steve Albini, the songs feature unpredictable, powerful bass and thrashing guitars. It doesn’t always quite gel, ‘The Rim’ is more of a challenge to get into, but “Fissures of Men” is always surprising and brave.
When everything falls into place though, the results are superb, as with the full-on rock-out distorted delight that is ‘Shaun Powell’. Elsewhere, there’s more Frankenstein-like craziness such as ‘D.T.T.B.O.W.T.B.’, which launches like later era Danzig before offering some more laid-back grooves, then morphing to a black metal wail.
“Fissures of Men” is a journey and then some: Devil Moon Risen have taken the obvious starting point and run off in a totally different direction (or three). Whether it’s noise rock or some as yet uncharted genre of music, the album is sometimes demanding and always unpredictable. If – or when – you’re ready, “Fissures of Men” could be just the education you need.
UK Subs have been around for a while. Their roots go right back to the early days of British punk rock, incorporating dozens of albums and nearly as many band members. They’ve released an album for every letter of the alphabet, A to Z, and have played all over the world. And guess what? Despite being a fan for years, I’ve never seen them live. Time to correct that mistake, with the Subs appearing just up the road from me in Wrexham.
The Rockin’ Chair used to be known to me as Central Station, and I’ve seen a fair few bands there (such as The Damned, twice, if I recall). This was my first visit to the venue in it’s new guise, though happily not much had changed.
Our fearless support was Birkenhead based The Crapsons, who dealt a reliably fun and furious selection of fast punk rock numbers. Most songs are brief and to the point, played well and enthusiastically, with a healthy dollop of tongue in cheek humour. Highlights included ‘Fuck Off’ and its sequel, ‘Fuck Off Again’, but the whole set was energetic and enjoyable.
Yours truly popped off to the bar, where I spotted legendary UK Subs vocalist/visionary Charlie Harper, who was merrily hanging about chatting to fans. I returned after The Crapsons set, picked up a copy of the newly re-issued “Flood of Lies” album, and asked Charlie to sign it. This he gladly did, as well posing for a selfie. Seems like nothing is too much for this true gentleman of punk, Charlie happily agreed to requests with a pleasant “No worries!” What a lovely bloke.
Unfortunately my selfie was not lovely. I’m a total novice at such things, and made the classic mistake of taking the shot from a low angle. Thus, my rock’n’roll claim to fame features a smiling Charlie, but is ruined by me looking like a huge necked gorilla.
The crowd in The Rockin’ Chair had built considerably, and when the UK Subs took to the stage, there was a roar of approval. Straight away the band sent forth a barrage of songs from their vast back catalogue. Sadly, however, the sound for the frist half dozen songs was diabolical. Alvin Gibbs’ bass was phenomenal, rumbling and gliding along, but Steve Straughan’s guitars were totally lost. Thankfully this seemed to improve from ‘Down on the Farm’ onwards, with the sound coming to life.
No problems with the drums, played expertly by Stefan Häublein. And of course, Charlie was superb: a benign punk rock general leading his faithful troops over the top, on a charge into a rock’n’roll no man’s land where we could all party together. ‘Warhead’ was rousingly brilliant, everyone singing along. ‘Stranglehold’ (the first Subs song I ever heard, fact fans!) was still a blast of fresh air, all these years later.
Returning for an encore, I remember ‘CID’ and ‘You Don’t Belong’ received by an audience who really didn’t want it all to end. UK Subs persevered through sound problems with power and professionalism, giving the loyal fans an unforgettable night. Personally, I was stoked to finally hear these songs live and be part of a UK Subs audience. Fingers crossed I’ll get to do it again. Thanks to all for making this happen, it’s amazing to see classic bands of this stature in the local area.
November 25 1991, Manchester G-MEX. That was the last (and first) time I saw The Cult perform live. They were my favourite band and being there to witness them in person was a hell of a thrill, I was barely 19 years old and I’d never been to a gig of that scale before. Years go by, and I’m finally going to see The Cult again, this time at the far more atmospheric Apollo, rather than the cavernous aircraft hanger of the old G-MEX.
Yes indeed, it had been a long time since I saw my old mates Billy and Ian up on a stage. A lot had happened during that time – for all of us – but the music was always there.
Our support act this evening, in a seemingly incongruous move, was Jonathan Hultén. Standing solo on stage, swathed in veils and enigmatic face paint, Hultén was not what many were expecting to open the show. His music was dark, ethereal folk, with acoustic guitar and haunting vocals. At first I was intrigued, as the music continued I became thoroughly engaged. Just a few days before Halloween, this Scandinavian folk horror and gothic bombast was entirely appropriate to open this event.
More surprises, even more pleasant, revealed themselves when The Cult took to the Apollo stage – accompanied by a sample of ‘Ride of the Valkyries’ from Apocalypse Now (a genius move in itself). Launching into an earth-shaking ‘In The Clouds’, followed by ‘Rise’, from the insanely underrated “Beyond Good and Evil” album, this was not what I was expecting at all. Both songs are later entries in the band’s cannon, and sit gloriously at the heavier end of their repertoire. I adore both tracks – this was going to be interesting.
“Electric” album cut ‘Wildflower’ was next. One of my favourite Cult songs, I could’ve left at that point and been satisfied. More hard hitting classics followed with the swagger of ‘Star’ and Charlie Jones’s thudding bass introducing ‘The Witch’. New track ‘Mirror’ slots in seamlessly, then we get another mighty song from “Beyond Good and Evil”, ‘War (The Process’). All well known songs to Cult freaks like me, but not obvious choices by any means.
Billed as “The Cult 8424” – a 40 year anniversary tour – I’d expected a Greatest Hits set, culled mainly from the bands mid 80’s days. Early non-album single ‘Resurrection Joe’ was therefore no surprise, otherwise, this set spanned eras and albums confidently. Next was an acoustic ‘Edie (Ciao Baby)’ – I’ve always preferred this song in stripped down form to the “Sonic Temple” production.
‘Sweet Soul Sister’ was my chance for a quick “comfort break” – I’ve never been a huge fan. Great riff, overblown chorus! Another surprise followed, with ‘Lucifer’ from the “Choice of Weapon” record. The huge, epic riff of this song has made it one of my favourites, so a real bonus to hear live. John Tempesta on drums really powered all these songs home flawlessly, with both groove and power.
The latter part of the set delivered all the big crowd pleasers; an anthemic ‘Firewoman’, a truly captivating ‘Rain’ (surely one of the greatest rock riffs of the era), the tribal beauty of ‘Spiritwalker’. Billy Duffy, playing to a home town crowd, performed guitar magic throughout: from gutsy, gritty riffs to mesmerising yet direct, never fancy melodies. Lightning bolt energy from Ian Astbury galvanised the audience, as he revelled in the role of shamanic leader. And with a final roar through ‘Love Removal Machine’, it’s over.
Except it isn’t! Of course not, we all know The Cult will be back for an encore. But what will it be? Any more surprises?
‘Brother Wolf, Sister Moon’ is a classic track from the wonderful “Love” album, but wasn’t a single and so a very welcome reward. Finally, of course, the legendary ‘She Sells Sanctuary’ rings out and unites the crowd in a euphoric shared moment – Astbury’s air raid siren vocals leading the throng. I swear that man doesn’t need a microphone.
My return visit to The Cult’s sonic temple took a few years longer than anticipated. It was great to see them on such fine form, revelling in the classics and confident in their position as genuine, treasured heroes. What really made the gig for me though, was the sheer joy of hearing a very generous helping of less obvious, but very beloved tracks that I wasn’t expecting. No ‘Lil’ Devil’, but the rest of the set made up for it. I’ll return sooner next time.
PS: we need “Beyond Good and Evil” re-releasing on vinyl, please lads!
Black Tusk return with their seventh album (no, I can’t believe it, either), which they’ve entitled “The Way Forward”. It’s their first as a four piece, with Andrew Fidler (guitar/vocals) and drummer James May now augmented by guitarist Chris “Scary” Adams and bassist Derek Lynch.
The past few years have been tough for the band members, but their indestructible determination and formidable will has seen them stride onward regardless. It’s this perseverance that provides the album with its title and its unifying theme. Undeniably, the sludge metal sound is there as expected, but with additional guitar parts and a feeling of relentless tenacity.
Lead track ‘Out of Grasp’ and ‘Brushfire’ are both furious samples of big, dirty riffs played with furious conviction. It’s a fast paced set of aggressive yet entertaining energy – as a listener, I was dragged along with the band and could appreciate their steadfast refusal to let the ills of the world conquer them.
Many of the songs are around the three-minute mark, meaning we rarely get chance for a breather. ‘Breath of Life’ and the title track both have the opportunity to expand a little, though neither relinquishes their sheer intensity. The instrumental ‘Ocean of Obsidian’ is the slowest, trippiest number here, featuring a cavernous, cathedral-like sound.
So welcome back, Black Tusk. With “The Way Forward” they’ve dredged the swamp and pulled up a steaming, ruthless slab of metal that sounds unforgiving but positive. Absolutely bloody great!
Your scribe is beleaguered. Beset by enemies on all fronts, every step forward an excruciating endeavour that may only force me further back than when I started. Such is life as my trusty steed, my desktop PC, has been sabotaged by scurvy knaves, and died at the side of the track. This unfortunate scenario has resulted in yours truly patching together a network of ancient laptop (unused these last four years); a dodgy Word type program that might not even be recognised by the notoriously fussy Ever Metal website; and an iPod to complete this review.
Because I’m a professional, goddamnit. I don’t quit. Not when I could actually finish a review before the album release date and avoid yet more scorn from my EM peers. This review is on, mofos – oh yes, it is on.
And what is this review? Why, none other than a spanking new release from the mighty pachyderms of Doom Metal, the wonderful Acid Mammoth. Hailing from Athens in Greece, this four piece trample everything else under their hefty hooves, with just over forty minutes of heavy riff based, crushing rock music.
Acid Mammoth consist of Chris Babalis Jr (vocals and guitar) and Chris Babalis Sr – Junior’s dad – also on guitar. So it’s an unusual, but obviously well functioning, band of family members. Rounding out the Mammoth are Dimosthenis Varikos on bass and Marios Louvaris on drums. This is their fourth full album, and it won’t disappoint any previous fans.
Thundering tribal drums open our first track, the brilliantly named ‘Supersonic Megafauna Collision’ (also the title track, obvs). Fuzzy guitars are soon added to the mix, with a pulverising pace that’s set at head nod/foot stomp. It’s a template that the album sticks to, but then this Doom Metal is of the true kind – with riffs this good, progressive excursions aren’t required.
“Come feel the fuzz”, then, on ‘Fuzzorgasm’: where the band throw in a groovetastic riff that will get your body moving like a caveman in an itchy loincloth. Great lead guitar too. The behemoth lumbers on through the ‘Garden of Bones’, where an ominous bass takes the front of the herd. The vocals remind me of Tobias Forge of Ghost, which is no bad thing.
‘Atomic Shaman’ provides more Sabbath worship, though with a slightly faster approach. ‘One with the Void’ adds a melancholic, ethereal feel that actually gave me early Soundgarden vibes. Finally, ‘Tusko’s Last Trip’ is a nearly twelve minute long opus that takes all the heavy drama we’ve already encountered and dials it right up, with some of the most crushing playing yet.
Huge is the word to describe this album. Just like the bands namesake, “Supersonic Megafauna Collision” is a gigantic, powerful beast from another age that could flatten all that stand in it’s way. Another great release for 2024, I’ve got the vinyl copy on order and Acid Mammoth look set for a high end of year Top Ten placing.
I can’t believe I’ve managed to get this review finished. In the end, the worst part was that little paper clip guy popping up. Thought he was long gone? Not on this ancient Antikythera device.
Platinum Al's Virtual Hot Tub 