last.fm's top metal artists

In this digital age of seemingly infinite choice of music that’s easy to access and at low cost (or free) it would easy to assume that the music listening masses would broaden their horizons a little. The Long Tail economy surely applies to music as much if not more than any other popular media. Not so according to various sales and download figures which suggest that in the current market, music sales are showing a higher propensity to the more popular tracks/artists than they did 5 years ago. There are various possible reasons for this (the paradox of choice, pack mentality, an explosion in poor taste) and it would be easy to dismiss this as this as mere statistics, but with recording artists struggling to cover costs and labels slashing rosters the harsh reality is only too obvious for some. What’s even more depressing is that there’s evidence in the movie and book worlds higher selling items often get better reviews, even when they suck. This is a known phenomenon:

In “Formal Theories of Mass Behaviour”, William McPhee noted that a disproportionate share of the audience for a hit was made up of people who consumed few products of that type. (Many other studies have since reached the same conclusion.) A lot of the people who read a bestselling novel, for example, do not read much other fiction. By contrast, the audience for an obscure novel is largely composed of people who read a lot. That means the least popular books are judged by people who have the highest standards, while the most popular are judged by people who literally do not know any better. An American who read just one book this year was disproportionately likely to have read “The Lost Symbol”, by Dan Brown. He almost certainly liked it.

Could this be the same for music and more specifically metal? My apparent snobbishness leads me to automatically assume that it doesn’t. Metal is a hugely diverse genre, and metal fans, despite being somewhat cliquey, are a diverse and contrary bunch who positively revel in the lonely outposts of the long tail. But is this really the case? I decided to do a little research on the matter. This lead me on a bit of an odyssey. I’m a closet stats junkie, and I’m easily distracted by trivia, so this is more of a journey than a destination, but I thought I’d share what I found anyway.

So firstly, do metallers show a propensity to rate popular music more highly? I headed off the social review site rateyourmusic.com and pulled the charts for the highest rated metal album of all time.

1. Black Sabbath – Paranoid
2. Metallica – Master of Puppets
3. Black Sabbath – Master of Reality
4. Black Sabbath – Black Sabbath
5. Metallica – Ride the Lightning
6. Megadeth – Rust in Peace
7. Kyuss – Welcome to Sky Valley
8. Tool – Ænima
9. Slayer – Reign in Blood
10. Death – Symbolic
11. Opeth – Still Life
12. Opeth – Blackwater Park
13. Tool – Lateralus
14. Iron Maiden – Powerslave
15. Judas Priest – Painkiller

(full chart here)

Now, I’m not going to get into the relative merits or shortcomings of this list, I don’t really agree with it, however it seems reasonable and everything there certainly warrants a mention in the context of the best ever metal albums – there are no real stinkers here. The caveat here is that folks who write reviews on this site will tend to be self styled ‘critics’ rather than the casual listeners.

So, how does that compare to what people actually listen to. I pulled a (somewhat patchy) chart of overall listens of metal bands from last.fm.

Well, that’s a bit of a difference! Only 4 of the critics’ choice bands appear in the top 20 most listened. This is far from scientific, but it would seem that (Metallica excepted) metallers have a somewhat different perspective on what they think is of ‘quality’ and what they actually listen to. Clear critical favourites and genre instigators Black Sabbath are right down the rankings with 32,298,137 listens, lower even than perennial noughties favourites Opeth with 35,744,109 listens. And what’s with Korn in the top 15, I really didn’t think anyone seriously listened to them any more. And Nightwish? Really? The European influence I guess.

There’s quite a few caveats around this list, for example last.fm attract a certain demographic that’s perhaps not universally representative, plus song length will play a part (you can listen to 4 AC/DC songs in the time it takes to listen to 1 of Opeth’s), and this is last.fm’s lifetime list, so more established bands are more likely to appear, but it’s still indicative.

Anyway, I couldn’t make last.fm give me any data on overall lifetime listening stats for the metal genre, so calculating the long tail was impossible, and by now I was being distracted by the list I had compiled, and its various curiosities. For example, why the hell are In Flames so high? I realise they’re a pretty influential band, but they’re above Iron Maiden for gawd’s sake! The answer to this conundrum is in the listener figures. If you divide the total listens per band by the listeners you get a rough indication of listens per user. Order list by this value and you get a somewhat different picture.

As you can see, certain bands have more modest numbers of ‘fans’ with a propensity to listen to their music a hell of a lot. In Flames fans seem particularly enthusiastic about the band’s music. You’ll notice also that the list is considerably less ‘commercial’ with the likes of AC/DC, Slipknot and System of a Down disappearing from the top 10. This is explained when you look at the track play volume profiles of In Flames vs AC/DC:

In Flames

AC/DC

The slope on the AC/DC is much more pronounced. Essentially, many more people are listening to a much smaller selection of AC/DC tracks, probably hitting Back in Black in their collection every so often, amongst Lady GaGa or U2. In Flames fans listen to a much greater selection of tracks, and probably favour albums over single tracks, thus driving the overall play count per listener up.

What’s also curious is that Black Sabbath, who dominate the critics album list, have a somewhat low plays per listener count of 27. Coming into this with no knowledge of the Sabbath you may assume, on viewing the critics’ list, that  they are an albums band, which is true to an extent, however, Sabbath’s profile is insanely skewed towards Paranoid and Iron Man which suggests that they attract a lot of casual listeners:

Anyway, I could noodle about with figures and stats all day, but where is this getting us? Well, we could surmise that the critics and fans aren’t really in agreement when it comes to voting with their feet. This is also evident in the public arena – Terrorizer Magazine’s albums of 2009 put Converge and Cobalt at the top and Behemoth somewhere in the 30′s, whereas the fan survey put Behemoth at the top of almost every category. On the other hand, Metalsucks famously triggered a minor insurgency when their poll of the top 21 albums of the 21st century – voted for by critics, bands and industry types – was mauled by their more discerning readership.

I’m really keen to understand whether metal is a long tail genre in comparison to, for example, Pop which I assume is by definition a populist genre, but decent stats are hard to come by. It’s a murky picture and one that dominated by dodgy data, countless caveats, spurious statistics, cliques and fraternities, but my quest will continue, to understand what makes the metal world tick.

The French scene appears awash with technicolour crossover Black Metal (is that an oxymoron?) seemingly emerging as one of the most vibrant geographical musical entities anywhere in the world at the moment. Celeste’s Morte(s) Nee(s) delivers unrelenting sludgy BM that’s comparable to Cobalt with its earthly misanthropic groove. Celeste seem to have directed their wrath for only one half of the human race as Morte(s) Nee(s) is apparently about the ladies.

Seismic downtuned riffs straddle mid-tempo and doomy passages into the final track and set piece De Sorte que Plus Jamais un Instant ne Soit Magique which dabbles in drone-like simplicity. Here, Celeste’s sound really blooms into something dramatic and transcendent driving the album’s vicious intent to an infinitely dense singularity of pure noise.

Perhaps not quite as textured as earlier Misanthrope(s), Morte(s) Nee(s) is well recorded, beautifully packaged and given away in its digital form entirely free here along with the rest of Celeste’s marvellous back catalogue. Download this, savour its delicious intensity, then go buy the LP, for it is a thing of beauty.

Gone are the days when a solo guitar virtuoso could woo the masses, fingers ablur over fret board weaving magical, note hungry spells. Sometime in the early 90’s (thanks in no small part to Mr. Cobain and chums) it became distinctly distasteful to peddle your talents in such an overtly self-aggrandising way. The old guard stuck to their guns in relative obscurity, while the new guard peddle their wares in power metal bands and the like. But surely, as the trends come and go through the years we’re due a resurrection of the solo guitar god?

Chimp Spanner is guitarist Paul Antonio Ortiz from Colchester, UK. Ortiz’s day job is making music for computer games, adverts, radio etc. In his spare time he is Chimp Spanner – the bastard offspring of Cloudkicker (Ben Sharp) and zany guitar supremo Steve Vai. Whereas Cloudkicker sits uncomfortably in the post-rock category At the Dream’s Edge delivers instrumental metal that borders on, but ultimately transcends, the solo guitar virtuoso tomfoolery of Vai and his Jedi master Joe Satriani. Whether Ortiz aligns himself with these esteemed, but ultimately uncool elder statesmen is unclear, but the comparison is unavoidable.

The Vai-esque lead guitar keens and flutters over a choppy ocean of Cloudkicker like percussive, polyrhythmic chugging. There’s invention and guitar wizardry here aplenty and some seriously tricky time signatures. Where Vai and his ilk are usually comfortable to let the widdly guitar do the talking Ortiz pervades his mad science through every instrumental layer, of which there are many. Although the Cloudkicker/Vai comparisons are the most obvious, this eclectic collection borrows from across the rock/metal spectrum, one minute death, the next ambient, the next melodic rock and there’s a clear debt to progressive noodling of Dream Theatre. It doesn’t always work, one minute “Yes, yes, yes!”, the next “No , no, no!” which, when taken as a whole, makes …Dream’s Edge an occasionally tiring listen.

That said level of musicianship on display here is nothing short of stunning and rarely overtly showy, and there’s no shortage of ideas. At the Dream’s Edge lacks the drama of Clouckicker or the wacky, post-Zappa personality of Vai – it feels a little clinical at times. This is definitely one for the musos as really doesn’t have much to offer in the way of an emotional fix, but it’s hard really to knock something this nifty.

Dignified?

Luke Lewis’s blog post on NME.com has got me a little hot under the collar. It’s typical of NME to come out with elitist bollocks like this. I think this, like many other arguments I hear against the new musical economy and the digital culture is based on a rosy view of a past that doesn’t exist any more and never will again. Today’s teenagers will look back on the current period in musical history with the same rose tint that Lewis does on a culture that died 20 years ago.

Undignified he says? I say dynamic, resourceful, damn well commendable. These bands in control of their own destiny. In the ‘halcyon days’ alluded to in the article these ‘indie’ bands were more likely to be at the whim of a suited exec – now that’s undignified.

Perhaps there is less mystique around bands, but that’s not a function of the changing musical landscape but the world as a whole. Unless you’re Deathspell Omega then you’re going to be ridiculously easy to track down and deconstruct.  Mystique was and still is crafted and sculpted by style leaders and journos. Most bands past and present haven’t got a clue how to publicise themselves, some are lucky enough to exude the current mode of ‘cool’ others aren’t, so need to be created by some style guru or cynical exec. This is not new (especially in NME’s world), in some ways it’s the very cornerstone of popular music.

So if you want your favourite band to maintain mystique then stop following them on twitter. and if mystique is so essential to you, then there’s a million underground bands out there that are perfectly obscure and would very much appreciate your patronage.

It’s harder than ever to score a ‘record deal’ in the current climate, though easier than ever to proceed without one, but it’s a hard business. You’ll not only have to do produce all the music, but learn how to record, distribute and promote your own music. So you won’t have a legion of record label culture sculptors to maintain your myspace, regularly post to Twitter, arrange well timed public appearances, and apply the PR mop after your drunken inequities. My Bloody Valentine and Bruce Springsteen did and they’re legend was written, rewritten, sculpted and scrubbed in real time. Dignified you say?

So NME, what self releasing bands really need is a break from your antiquated whining please. Some dignity and mystique wouldn’t go amiss, like you had 30 years ago.

It’s perhaps typical of the gung-ho Gallic approach to Black Metal that some of the most exotic forms of this embattled genre derive from France. On one hand, you have the musically ultra-progressive and philosophically zealous Deathspell Omega (either the saviour or soiler of the BM artform) and on the other you have Alcest, who are something altogether different.

Écailles de Lune isn’t a black metal album as such. Sonic alchemist and sole band member Neige has crafted a total immersion musical landscape that variously caresses and claws at your emotions playing out the magical narrative that’s utterly mesmerising. Écailles… could have easily have descended into sonic slush with its mix of mixing atmospheric Black Metal reminiscent of early Burzum, plaintive shoegaze, and post-rock, but somehow it all seems so natural together. Three genres deeply rooted in the pursuit of atmospherics, the soothing shoegaze is broken by dramatic and emotive BM passages while the post-rock elements offer a cinemascopic breadth. Not only does it work, it’s hard to imagine why no-one did this before.

Alcest will, in perpetuity, be bound to their pure BM beginnings, but with Écailles de Lune have produced a ‘black metal’ album that is neither particularly ‘black’ or even ‘metal’. In that respect it’s better compared to the other standout BM crossover release this year – Ludicra’s The Tenant which similarly plays acrobatics with the BM genre but to somewhat different effect.

Écailles de Lune is haunting but beautiful, exhilarating and soothing. The otherworldly atmosphere is only enhanced by the entirely French vocals that make, for a non-French speaking listener (well, I can order a cup of coffee and ask for directions in French, themes that don’t feature particularly highly in this narrative!) this a purely musical experience, which doesn’t at all detract from the ethereal majesty of it all, but in some ways enhances it. In that respect, this release bears comparisons to wacky Icelandic sound sculptors Sigur Ros – indeed, much of this album would play out quite nicely as the soundtrack to the BBC science/nature documentary.

The sign of a truly great album is that, when the last notes fade to silence, you’re left yearning for more. Much much more. The BM or shoegaze or any other label is entirely beside the point, here – Écailles de Lune sounds like an album that needed to be made – as if merely uncovered from the musical mêlée like a beautiful fresco on a grimy church wall.

The likelihood is that this will be shunned by the BM crowd for its ‘indie’ leanings and the French vocals won’t help commercially outside of France, so Alcest will struggle to get a popular foothold, which is a shame as this album needs to be heard by many, many people. Here we have then, the first absolutely essential album of 2010.

Trends and scenes come and go with metronomic regularity like the waxing and waning of the moon – one minute the light side, in full view of the world and worshipped from afar, the next out of sight and ignored along with the inhabitants that dwell there. And thus the procession of shallow *cores or death/black/hardcore crossovers becomes a footnote in the history of metal only to be resurrected in 20 or 30 years as the new big thing.

As the bright face of the Death Metal and Trad revivals seem to be waning, the new school are already lined up to take it’s place in the hearts and minds of the kids. So what will come next, and will it really go nuclear and become the next HUGE thing (like NWOBHM, Thrash, Grunge, Emo)?

There seems to be emerging 2 real growth areas under the metal banner that could make the transition to mainstream: Doom/Stoner and Grindcore. On the surface, these two genres couldn’t be more different – slow, monolithic, gloomy, subdued against fast, frenetic, angry, complex – but there are similarities, if not so much musically. The denizens of these genres are generally un-metal (in the traditional sense) and are neither flamboyant or posturing (unlike much of the current crop of trendies) displaying more Alt-like characteristics. There’s no clear fashion other than jeans+t-shirt+tats. They both descend from a very clear ancestor (Black Sabbath and Napalm Death respectively) and have a old school DIY ethic.

The key here is that both genres are opposed to the brash and showy incumbent scenes and have a very ‘anti’ feel about them – they are primed for insurrection. Both genres are enjoying an upsurge in popularity and visibility (witness High on Fire ransacking the US albums chart) which could see them hit a critical mass to swells them into the mainstream. Finally, both genres are offensive/parent baiting enough to have teenagers the world over slathering with delight. The effect this may have on the scene and culture is a subject for another post, but there’s a conversation happening here on the subject to whet your appetite.

And the players in these surging genres? Here are a few, that are indicative rather than representative.

Grindcore

Landmine Marathon

Fuck the Facts

Rotten Sound

Doom/Stoner

Electric Wizard

Dozer

Church of Misery

What stately surroundings to celebrate the grand conjurors of extreme metal’s 20^th anniversary! As the ever sardonic Mikael Åkerfeldt so gleefully pointed out, they are probably the most extreme band ever to play there, and almost certainly the first band to call their audience “c*nts” in this regal auditorium. A night of firsts then, for this was the fist time Opeth’s seminal Blackwater Park in its entirety on British soil.

The biggest UK show they’ve ever played, it wasn’t sold out, a fact for which I for one was thankful, as it resulted in my crappy seat situated where the air is thinner and sound crapper being upgraded to a prime location in the stalls right behind the sound desk. The venue certainly felt pretty full as the house lights went down and Opeth embarked on a marathon 3 hours set (with 20 minutes interval).

This was a game of two halves – first, the revisiting of that landmark album. A turning point for the band and perhaps for extreme metal as a whole, Blackwater Park is rendered here pretty much note perfect save for a lounge rendition of Harvest. The only real surprise is that Åkerfeldt remained uncharacteristically silent, eschewing all stage banter, and let the music do the talking. Opeth’s music is nothing if not consistent and although Blackwater Park may stand out of their distinguished back catalogue, it’s by no means overshadows the rest in a way that, say, Rust in Peace (recently also played live in its entirety) does with Megadeth’s. Placed by many as one of best albums so far this century, it plays out like a bludgeoning yet beautiful mass, but in the context of the second half clearly feels like a celebration of the legend that is Opeth rather than Blackwater Park itself.

So 20 minutes to take a breather – quickly shuffle out to neck a 4 quid bottle of beer (no drinks in the auditorium!) – then back for the ‘mystery’ second half. Most of the audience would have guessed the direction of the remainder of the set as soon as Opeth started playing debut album Orchid’s Forest of October – a song off of every album (save Blackwater Park) played in chronological order. Unlike the first half, Åkerfeldt wasn’t about to stay silent and as he took us on a guided tour of the bands history. The singer’s stage banter is by now legendary and formed the very back bone of the second half. Spurred on by the regal surroundings he was at his most irreverent and blasphemous. Quite understandably, Mikael and team are glad to be here, but it was no easy road as Åkerfeldt talked us through tales of poverty, constant lineup changes and love embraces with Porcupine Tree’s Steven Wilson. OK, so this is no Confessions of Motley Crue, but it’s the way you tell them eh?

Opeth are precision musicians. Every note, beat and roar is delivered with surgical precision. The Albert Hall was made to have music, in all it’s subtle and complex forms, played in it, so predictably the sound was crystal clear – the feeble sound of the rapturous audience almost lost in the cavernous acoustics. But somehow Mikel and crew managed to make this enormous shrine to music feel intimate – more like a comedy club than an 8000 capacity theatre.

Second half playlist:

1. Forest of October (Orchid)
2. Advent (Morningrise)
3. April Ethereal (My Arms Your Hearse)
4. The Moor (Still Life)
5. Wreath (Deliverance)
6. Hope Leaves (Damnation)
7. Reverie/Harlequin Forest (Ghost Reveries)
8. The Lotus Eater (Watershed)

This half of the show was dubbed Evolution XX which implies a great change, but although Opeth have certainly progressed through these two decades, there’s no sense here of a band ascending from base, primitive or naïve beginnings to a majestic prime. Earlier tracks may have less bombast than their more recent counterparts, but these tracks form a coherent continuum that coexist to the point that they would happily sit on the same album. Opeth’s career, in many fans’ eyes, is bisected by a singly album – Still Life – your preference (or exclusive patronage) exists for one half, or the other. But I challenge anyone listening to this set to claim that Opeth are not one of the most consistently brilliant bands on the planet.

A celebration indeed – of Opeth, of metal, of guitars and drums and noise and all things that are good in the world.