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.

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.

A track by track breakdown of British post-[hardcore|metal|rock] act Fall of Efrafa’s third full length album would simply read ‘epic’ 7 times. The majority of tracks on this vegan opus clock in at between 10 and 17 minutes. This is the final instalment of Fall of Efrafa’s 3 albums that  re-imagine the story and themes of Watership Down in a quasi-political polemic – an effort that makes Coheed and Cambria’s Star Wars wet dream seem half hearted.

Inlé takes it time. There’s little room for subtlety here, but there are moments of wistful beauty interspersed with bludgeoning hardcore which elicits The Ocean and Neurosis. The vocals are a monotonous roar which occasionally breaks down to a Frank Carter-esque rasp while the guitars cast a doomy air across these rhythmically sparse soundscapes. Highlights are the doom-core of Wonderwort and the final track  The Warren of Snares which wraps up this series in spectacular style surging and and waining before culminating into a pummeling finalé.

Fall of Efrafa should perhaps be congratulated for being the only band in history to base their entire career on rabbits and their dedication is commendable. However, Inlé is perhaps too ponderous  for it’s own good – Efrafa may be labouring a point here, and they’re certainly labouring the music. I’ve no doubt that this album will blossom it’s purposeful beauty after repeated listens, but time is precious, and you have to wonder whether Efrafa are in any hurry to spread their message.

I’ve not heard the rest of their back catalogue so I can’t say whether this is a fitting end to the saga, however, it’s a diverting listen which is heartfelt and passionate. It can be downloaded in its entirity (as well as their other releases) here.

(3.5)

A Thom Yorke played a new track and some rarities in a rather daring midday solo slot at Latitude festival according to NME.com. What possessed that mad pixie to play this usually mortuary like slot is anyone’s guess (perhaps he was hoping that no-one would turn up), but never-the-less he apparently played storming set including classic rarities True Love Waits and fan favourite Follow Me Around among highlights from his solo album and recent Radiohead back catalogue.

I’d love to see him tour with a set like this – which of course he won’t. He’ll more likely play a one off show in a supermarket composed entirely of Talking Heads covers played on a Commodore 64.

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.

I’m not generally a big fan of Black Metal, in the same way that I’m not a fan of rattling a Quality Street tin full of pebbles next to my ear. However, lately a few bands have been creeping into my into my unwilling conciousness. These seem to be of a slightly less traditional Black Metal form and of a more progressive ilk (for example Enslaved’s Monumension and bits and peices of Anaal Nathrakh).

This track by ‘Avant Garde’ black metallers <code> really stands out. Haunting vocal harmonies wash over eerie guitars punctuated by agressive black metal noise. This is not just your average black metal creepy posturing – there’s real songwriting ability here. These guys seem to treat black metal as a playground in the same way that Opeth do with death. I’m not really familar with their back catalogue (although the track The Cotton Optic is also excellent), but if this is anything to go by, they are going to be very popular indeed.

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.