What I spent my hard earned cash on recently.

The Ocean – Heliocentric

On releasing Precambrian, The Ocean had a whiff of the future about them. Delivering punishing post-metal reminiscent of Cult of Luna but stretching into more old school prog territories, referencing the likes of Pink Floyd. With Heliocentric they take a fairly radical turn, apparently into more post-hardcore territory. The fact that, with new vocalist Loic Rossetti, Heliocentric demonstrates a preference for clean vocals, although significant, isn’t really a concern here. It’s the fact that they’ve had to employ some fairly hackneyed melodic techniques to accommodate them. Now sounding like a less mature Oceansize, the band may view this as a personal progression, but it the grand scheme of things, this ends up sounding like the faux-boundary pushing of the likes of Between the Buried and Me. There are some rousing moments here, and hints at former glories, but nothing that really grabs the listener screaming “we have just rewired you brain!”, which is what I was hoping for. This is the sound of a band finding its feet with a new sound, and I commend them for it, but The Ocean have been around for quite a while now, and they should be sounding like a band well and truly in their stride. Heliocentric is part of a pendant of complementary albums, the second to be released late 2010 – we can only hope that they saved all their real creativity for the second half.

Cathedral – The Guessing Game

Unlike The Ocean, Cathedral are a band branching out into new, progish areas and sounding like they’ve been doing it all their lives. Cathedral’s sound may not be new any more, but they’ve always managed to make music that sounds totally out there, and The Guessing Game is the most ‘out there’ record they’ve released in a very long time. This is not an album for those new to Cathedral unless you happen to be a veteran with lengthy, noodling old school prog. But this isn’t simply prog revisionism, nor is it merely Cathedral ‘doing prog’, this is a pretty bold artistic statement and one that will see them revered as metal revolutionaries for another decade to come. Dorian and team feel as fresh as ever, and in terms of maturity and damned right assuredness, they’re so far ahead of the pack they almost everyone else may as well just give up.

The Dillinger Escape Plan – Option Paralysis

Perhaps the title of The Dillinger Escape Plan’s 4th full length album is indicative of their state of mind when they recorded this album. Throughout their career Dillinger have broadened their palate to include whatever damn well suited them and be damned with the rest of you. Managing to shock and confound on every single release, the seemingly endless diversity of the musical form was once again before them like giant smorgasbord for them to indulge their sonic crapulence. Option Paralysis describes the state where you have so many options available to you that you are mentally unable to act on any of them. In The Plan’s case, they appear to have been paralysed, for the first time in their career, into standing still, which is sad, because although Option Paralysis is a good album by any band’s standards, it lacks the elements of surprise and obstinacy that has really defined Dillinger’s career to date. I’ll forgive them for this hiatus from creativity, but the next release better damn well be a marshmallow vindaloo of an album.

Barren Earth – The Curse of the Red River

With Opeth sounding like Opeth while managing to sound utterly different with every release, Barren Earth sound like Opeth trying to not sound like Opeth. A mix of doomy death and through-the-ages prog, Barren Earth’s sound is Technicolor and cavernous. Referencing 70’s prog in a more literal sense than Opeth, complete with synth solos and folkish bits, there’s a distinct air of Dream Theatre. Unfortunately, for almost every instance of proggy goodness, the unsubtly arranged and delivered death vocals spoil the party – Curse… sometimes has a whiff of Nu-Metal about it. It’s like the DM vocals are there purely to qualify this album a progressive death record, but this is akin to remixing a King Crimson’s In the Court of the Crimson King with hip-hop interludes. There are moments of pure Death here, but they mostly sound like Opeth, with a bit of Morbid Angel thrown in. It grates to the extent that I simply don’t enjoy listening to this, an album that otherwise I’d really love. I don’t rate albums but if I did, it Curse of the Red River would get 2/10 as a (prog)-death album, and 8/10 as pure prog.

Ludicra – The Tenant

Whether the kvlt like it or not, Black Metal is evolving. That doesn’t mean hardcore crossovers and progressive dabbling, but developing its monolithic core around creative minds and thus spewing a more paisley misanthropic ooze. So here we have San Francisco’s Ludicra and an oestrogen inflected black masterpiece called The Tenant. Ludicra mix tempos and melodies not usually associated with BM, but somehow obviously belonging to BM as if they merely discovered them in some corpse infested basement. The Tenant is at times mournful, others unsettlingly aggressive, managing to inject melody and riff hungry groove, evoking anything from Burzum to Megadeth to labelmates Worm Ourourboros. The female element is apparent, straying from the lowbrow bludgeoning of much of the genre, softening edges where they need softening, but tearing ragged maws to redress the balance – this is not ‘softer’ just more balanced. Regardless of genre, The Tenant is an accomplished record as you’ll find this year, and one that simply radiates class and creativity. Black Metal it is, through and through, but of a new sort, not progressive, just a progression.

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.

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.

For the uninitiated, Cloudkicker is one Ben Sharp from Columbus, Ohio. By day, Ben is a salary earning career man, by night a musical mad scientist. Cloudkicker’s percussive, polyrhythmic progressive metal is put together entirely on Sharp’s computer, with all instruments (and drums programmed) by the man himself. Cloudkicker’s music cost Sharp diddly squat to record.

Sharp releases short bursts of Cloudkicker’s music, given away free, to little fanfare. Currently there is 1 album and 3 EP’s, the latest of which is called ]]][[[ is both a continuation of Cloudkicker's trademark 'melodic Meshuggah' cacophany and a progression into both heavier and more melodic territories. Tracks 1 and 2 (which in keeping with the theme of grammatical symbols are named # and %) work as a single sprawling post-rocker, while track3 $ can only be described as post-thrash - frenetic, complex and stunningly original. Mr. Sharp kindly agreed to give me an interview.

Most would describe you as post-rock/metal, but you really stand out from the usual long song, slow build monotony. How would you describe your music?

I would describe it as "listenable". Anything beyond that is up to other people's musical sensibilities.

Do you consider yourself to be a part of any ‘scene’?

I consider myself a part of the "contributing member of society" scene, which is pretty exclusive as far as bands go.

You released 2 EP’s in a 12 month period. Was it a conscious decision to do that rather than release a full album?

I prefer putting out shorter releases more frequently. I get bored listening to an hour of instrumental music, and this way I always have something relatively new out.

Each of your releases has a distinct personality. Is this by design, or perhaps a reflection of your mood at the time?

Definitely the latter. I'm really moody when it comes to writing music, and I don't want to get caught up in some sort of creative rut where I'm ALWAYS writing within the confines of a certain style. Honestly, I'm getting bored of writing what amounts to being melodic Meshuggah but I still enjoy writing in odd time signatures, so I think applying that to some different styles will be interesting.

The title and song names of your current EP ]]][[[ only contain grammatical symbols. What is the significance of this?

Just mixing it up a bit. Usually I get a theme in my head or I'll be interested in a certain subject when I name songs but I wanted the music to be the focal point on this one. Also laziness.

Who’s the guy on the cover of ]]][[[ and why did you put him there?

I did a Google image search one time for the word “Black” and his picture popped up. I saved it on my computer and haven’t been able to find it since. I have no idea who he is, he could have committed mass infanticide for all I know. He just seems like a pretty solid dude, so why not put him on an album cover. I did color his garb though.

Your music almost seems defined by its rhythm. When you’re writing, is rhythm created before riff?

Sometimes. I’ve written some drum parts in the shower, but 70% of the stuff I come up with while noodling around on the guitar.

Have you considered releasing your music on physical formats and charging for it?

Eh. Sounds like a lot of effort. Some people seem to get really bent out of shape about the fact that they can’t buy a physical copy of the CD, and I think they’re probably somewhat OCD about it. I think it would be funny to sell CDs but have the artwork make it look like a regular blank CD-R.

Have you/will you ever consider making Cloudkicker into a full band?

I used to play shows back when I first started writing music for Cloudkicker in 2005-2006 and lived in Los Angeles. Since then I’ve taken on a career and moved to Ohio; I haven’t yet felt the need to hunt down capable musicians, practice, and put shows together. Instead I put that time and effort into writing music.

Well that’s good enough for me. Sharp’s chosen method of distribution, and the fact that he gives his music away free of charge, affords him this flexibility – the fans have no ownership over Cloudkicker, Sharp doesn’t need us, and thus artistic expression is allowed to flow unaltered by the malign influence of money. While the music industry bleats about loss of their poorly earned riches and foretell of the death of culture, Sharp and his ilk are out there proving that we no longer need these corporate wastes of space.

Cloudkicker’s entire back catalogue can be downloaded in its entirety for free here.

If I handed over an unlabeled copy of Myth and said “what you have here is the lost Opeth album. You know, the one that was recorded just after Blackwater Park and was collaboration with Katatonia but was never released” the less acquainted Opeth acolytes out there may well believe me on hearing it.

It’s impossible to talk about Stone Circle without mentioning Opeth – their debt to the Swedish masters is plain. However, the Brighton quartet aren’t simply a carbon copy. While Opeth tend towards 70’s prog groove and bleak, black metal atmospherics, Stone Circle bludgeon us with brutal death reminiscent of Morbid Angel melting into plaintive Katatonia-esque goth rock. Lacking the history and maturity of either band Myth doesn’t traverse the aggressive and melancholic as smoothly as Opeth and lacks the gothic majesty of Katatonia. That said there is some exemplary song writing here – moments of crushing heaviness and emotionally charged melody knitted together with a dark lyrical narrative. Epic, progressive and complex, Myth reaches musical highs most of their contemporise can only dream of.

Any criticism seems harsh when you consider that Stone Circle are unsigned Myth is entirely self released. This seems unjust given that the labels will rush out to sign 2nd rate carbon copies of bands who sell a couple of thousand units. The fact that a band of Stone Circle’s quality hasn’t been signed yet is as clear a sign of the skittishness of the music industry currently as you’ll see. Myth is accomplished and genuinely compelling. Stone Circle will need to step out from Opeth’s stately shadow to really stand out, but with the talent on display here I can’t imagine that this will be too difficult.

Since the hot topic of the moment is unsigned bands giving their music away free, I thought I’d mention one of my favourite bands at the moment, Cloudkicker, who are doing exactly that.

Cloudkicker from Columbus, Ohio are a instrumental post/prog-metal act that thus far, to my knowledge, have given their entire back catalogue away free as downloads (all available here for your enjoyment).

This is significant to me. When I first heard their tracks on Myspace, I thought it was decent enough, but nothing to get excited about, and buggered off to hunt down some more fresh tunes. Later, I came by the link to their download page, and being the habitual horder that I am, I downloaded their back catalogue as it was enjoyable enough and would pass some time. These tracks spent a few weeks turning up randomly on shuffle, and slowly started to infect me. Soon I found myself consciously choosing to listen to Cloudkicker.

Cloudkicker use percussive, pulsing guitars and lightly industrial flavours of bands like Meshuggah and Strapping Young Lad and blend with subtle swathes of ambient melody. Cloudkicker grows. This is precisely why giving their music away free is a good idea.

Folks are unlikely to keep going back to Myspace to listen to tracks, and much metal music, especially stuff like this, needs more than a cursory listen to really grok. Cloudkicker are unsigned. It seems unlikely that they would have gained the notoriety that they have purely on Myspace or by charging for CD’s or MP3’s. To my knowledge they don’t promote themselves (certainly not this side of the Atlantic) and the magazines give them no love. So they found their way to me by reputation and onto my playlist through regular listens. I have already told several people about them, and now I’m telling you.

Download these tracks. The worst that can happen is that you don’t like them, at which point just delete them.

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.

I picked up a recommendation for Electric Mud Generator on a progressive rock thread on UKMU. Despite having released 2 albums these guys have managed to slip largely under the popular radar. Their music is an extremely fashionable mix of classic prog, prog metal and doom (with a little folk thrown in for good measure). The galloping doom of She Wore Thorns culminates into a very convincing Maiden-esque solo, while the brooding epic Winter evokes Rush and King Crimson and has a rousing chorus to die for. This is a territory I had expected Amplifier would start to occupy when the released their “difficult” second album Insider.

This release is somewhat timely, and I hope the world sits up and takes notice, as there’s plenty of deeply mediocre bands occupying this space at the moment.

Manchester’s genre busting musicologists Oceansize could broadly be classified as post rock. Their atmospheric and unpredictable music is frequently beautiful and always challenging. Boasting 3 guitarists, Oceansize create soundscapes that flow effortlessly between ambient and aggressive and produce a depth of sound few other bands can achieve.

Few songs have the ability to make me feel so emotionally charged as the immersive Women Who Love Men Who Love Drugs from their startling debut album Effloresce. This surging epic begins with the subtly murmured lyrics suggesting the vagaries of drug abuse, before slow building into gigantic storm of frantic Jonny Greenwood style guitars. We are then soothed again by the song’s final coda of echoing guitars and washes of ambient sound. Perfect.

Chuck Schuldiner may have triggered the Death Metal genre with his band Death, but he took it in new, uncharted directions with the album The Sound Of Perseverance. This progressive metal masterwork almost never happened (Schuldiner intended to release an album with his new project Control Denied after disbanding Death in 1996, but instead opted for a further release via his original band), and is still underrated against a stellar back catalogue of work.

Frantic and complex riffs and frequent time changes compliment a change to his tried and tested vocal style into a Black Metal snarl.  Standout track Spirit Crusher lurches and stutters between frenetic thrash, melodic death and angular prog. The complex instrumental midsection contains some prodigious guitar solos and the whole song is underpinned by some of the best drumming you’ll hear provided by Richard Christy.

In the end, this album proved to be Schuldiner and consequently Death‘s swansong.  RIP Chuck, you are missed.