While on my recent excursion into the murky world of Drone (more on this to come, in about 3 years time, which is how long it’s going to take me to plough through Earth and Sunn O)))’s back catalogue) I briefly segued into classical choral music. It happened while I was watching BBC’s Classic Goldie, on which the Drum and Bass pioneer was saddled with the task of writing a piece of classical music to be preformed at that most British of institutions – The Proms. Part time graffiti artist Goldie, who cannot read or write music, is more accustomed to stringing together audio files in interesting configurations and certainly isn’t your obvious classical composer material. He makes a pretty decent job of it.

Anyway, somewhere along the lines he’s introduced to various, more experimental classical techniques by his mentor. One of these was an unearthly low pitch droning, oscillating hum made by a bunch of blokes with deep voices. Thought I “now this reminds me of early Earth sung by a bunch of blokes with deep voices” and trotted off gleefully to find out more.

It turns out to be the intro to a piece called Roncesvalles from Joby Talbot’s Path of Miracles. Mr. Talbot was once a member of British, tongue-in-cheek Brit-pop band The Divine Comedy. He now composes classical music in multiple styles with various degrees of populist slant, and is perhaps best known for his work on movie soundtracks like Son of Rambow and (festering bucket of badger entrails mixed with camel saliva) The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

Path of Miracles is choral from beginning to end, with few other instruments other than the human voice. I know nothing at all about choral music, so I can’t tell you if this is a good or bad example of it, but it totally bowled me over. The intro to Roncesvalles alone is like nothing I’ve ever heard. This ethereal rising drone sends shivers up my spine. Path of Miracles is comprised of 4 pieces at around 15 minutes in length. It’s sung, at least in part, in English, although it appears to be centred around a trip through various French villages.

Atmospheric and brooding, this is dark stuff. At times spooky or down right scary (along the lines of Jerry Goldsmith’s Omen theme), at others majestic and exulting. There are a fair few parallels in these histrionic overtures with metal – doom, black, drone and even European power metal. However, there’s no sense of quasi-intellectual posturing or irony here, this is the genuine article. It’s complex and difficult, and will  no doubt take countless more listens before it really divulges its secrets.

There’s not much I can say that will do this justice. This is fascinating and powerful music. If you like your music dark and complex, then you should check it out.

Mastodon are a great band, so when folks started muttering about Baroness in the same context I should have taken notice. Generally I thought “here’s another stoner band with added Mastodon widdly bits” and filed on my stuff-to-listen-to-at-some-point list somewhere in the middle. This is why it has taken me so woefully long to get with the programme. To paraphrase in the vernacular – EPIC FAIL!

Yes, they do sound a bit like Mastodon – a driving flux of complex psychedelic guitar and complex arrangements. The bands also share a doom/prog lineage. But Baroness cast a mood that’s fundamentally different – although comparatively cerebral, Baroness effect a stoner slouch and southern groove which allows them a brightness that is nonexistent in their fellow Georgians’ music, and place them along side popier counterparts Torche.

The Red Album is bookended with 2 atmospheric instrumental sections. The opening ambient chimes of Rays on Pinion slow-builds into a glorious upbeat, up-tempo stomp before morphing into a part stoner, part punk bruiser. The sun sets on The Red Album with Grad, an azure and brooding post-rocker which recalls Earth, were they ever to have acquired delusions of grandeur.

What happens in between is a purposeful melange of vignettes and slabs of fully formed modern metal. Repeating motif’s subtly weave this ragtag mix into a primal tapestry.

The Birthing, with its southern stylings and dramatic midsection, is heavy and complex, while the stately Isak plods its chiming course through the stoner wasteland. The foreboding space rock of Wailing Wintery Wind is fancifully chased up by the storm-in-a-teacup fingerpicked acoustic Cockroach En Fleur – the first of a suite of elaborate but essential instrumental accessories completed by the post-rock doom of Aleph and Teeth of a Cogwheel, which is like a 70’s soundtrack for a movie about cowboys in space.

With Wunderlust, we’re are presented with the most Mastodon like moment, with guitars dual guitars picking through angular open stringed harmonies butted with shouted discordant vocals and a narrative instrumental mid section that Mastodon would surely have been proud of.

Baroness will need to step out from under Mastodon’s shadow to truly become a powerful musical force. It would be a travesty if they are relegated to a footnote in another bands musical history. The Red Album is as good as (and in many cases better than) anything that Mastodon have recorded.

cephalopodous

Like their cephalopodous namesake, Californian post-metal oddballs Giant Squid are somewhat unusual and have long appendages (or songs). And what are curious beast they are. At times sounding like they ascend from the depth to confuse sailors; their obscure mix of styles is mesmerizing and unsettling.

From a bedrock of post rock like Godspeed.. and Pelican, Giant Squid layer flavours of 90′s American alternative, world music, and the classic prog of King Crimson and Pink Floyd. The vocals, a clear nod to the Jello Biafra/Serj Tankian, are accompanied by a plethora of instruments (trumpet, piano, cello). But this is no prog/muso noodling, there’s well structured songs here with tunes that reveal themselves in layers. They’re indie sensibilities add a popier dimension that their peers lack. It’s a refreshing mix in a sea of turgid Meshuggah wannabes.

Stretch your tentacles folks, and embrace the Squid.

Black metal, grindcore, industrial black metal, death metal? Make up your mind boys for gods sake!

Too cool for corpse paint

Anaal Nathrakh generally sound mostly black metal, although don’t suffer that terrible corpse paint affliction that most black metal children do. This song is actually a little frightening, but extremely enjoyable never the less. With a foot firmly in the grind camp, there’s also an air of Rammstein here, and not a whole lot of black metal at all.

Warning, this will make your ears bleed!

http://www.last.fm/music/Anaal+Nathrakh/_/The+Final+Absolution