My $180 shopping spree at Heartland Records

I’ve mentioned numerous times how Heartland Records in Melbourne, Australia, is my absolute favourite record store. So much so that once a year when the festive season rolls by, when asked by relatives what gift I would like, I imply that a Heartland Records gift vouchers wouldn’t be sneezed at.

Consequently, it’s around this time every year that I go on a Heartland Records shopping spree and end up with some killer new music. Here’s this year’s haul.

My annual pilgrimage to Heartland Records.

This is what I ask for every Christmas.

Bathory — Bathory

First cab off the rank: the first album in the Bathory discography and arguably one of the first true black metal albums.

I decided to buy this after I recently renewed my interest in Under The Sign Of the Black Mark (Bathory album number three) after owning it for several years. With this I’m expecting primitive, low-fi, Venom-inspired proto-evil noise. I don’t expect it to have aged well but I do hope to get a deeper understanding of what it must have been like to hear this for the first time all the way back in 1984 — that’s more than 30 years ago, in case that wasn’t painfully obvious.

Bathory — The Return…

Second cab off the rank: the second album in the Bathory discography. I’m familiar with just one track from this album, a cover version of the title track from the Marduk – Glorification EP. I’m expecting more evil low-fi noise, but of an improved calibre compared to its predecessor. Again, I’m going to try and imagine what it must have been like to be bludgeoned in the face for the first time with such an infernal racket when this was released in 1985.

Bathory — Blood Fire Death

When the discussion arises, I like to point out that Quorthon (Bathory main-man, guitarist, song-writer, etc.) is one of the very few people who can take partial or full credit (the jury is still deliberating) for creating not one, but two styles of heavy metal: black metal, which originated in the first three Bathory albums, two of which are listed above; and Viking metal (more of a term, yes, but still a thing), which has been agreed on as starting with the 1990 Hammerheart album.

I’m a fan of the melody, epicness (a heavy metal album entirely about Vikings, which gave rise to a thing called Viking metal, is as epic as it gets) and solid song-writing on the Hammerheart album. Blood Death Fire was its predecessor and was an in-between album. It bridged the rawness and downright evil vibe of the first three Bathory albums, and led to the more melodic Viking sound / concept / vibe of the Hammerheart album.

Bathory shirt

I don’t own a Bathory t-shirt, so this was an opportunity to correct that. What's that, wearing a Bathory shirt but not being intimately familiar with all Bathory albums makes me a poser? So far I’ve probably spent more money supporting this band than most people under 25.

Motörhead — Rock ‘N’ Roll

A couple of years ago I made a conscientious effort to appreciate more Motörhead, so I figured a good starting point was a neat box set containing the first six full-length albums in the Motörhead discography. I’m glad I did that because not only did I love these classic Motörhead albums, I’d also grown to appreciate and understand enough of Lemmy and Motörhead to be able to genuinely consider myself something of a fan before he died.
At the start of the year, I could genuinely say I'd gotten into Motörhead, yet there were something like 14 more Motörhead albums out there that I still needed to get to know. After Lemmy’s recent death, I made the point of getting to know more of his music, which is how I picked up this and another Motörhead album (below).

Coincidentally, I had a copy of Rock ‘N’ Roll on multi-generation dubbed cassette tape when I was all of 11 years old. I can’t recall what happened to my copy but I do recall when listening to it that it didn’t leave a lasting impression. More than 20 years later, I’m really loving Rock ‘N’ Roll, having fast-tracked this album to be listened to first off the pile.

Motörhead — March Ör Die

March Ör Die is the second of two newly acquired Motörhead albums. Apparently long-time Motörhead album cover artist Joe Petagno was incredibly unhappy with this one.

I haven’t listened to this one yet but I’m tipping it’ll be a great album. It’s not merely Motörhead, but it’s Motörhead doing the track Hellraiser, among other things. If you haven’t seen it, do make an effort to watch the video. As I said previously, no matter how awesome you think you are, you’ll never be Lemmy-winning-at-cards-against-the-Cenobite-Hellraiser-himself-awesome.

Various — Extreme Sündenfall 10

The Germans put out some superb EBM / industrial / goth compilations. Compilations like the Gothic Compilation, which hit at least 61 volumes, come to mind, as does the Extreme series (Extreme Sündenfall, Extreme Clubhits, Extreme Traumfänger, Extreme Störfrequenz, Extreme Lustlieder, and more).

This one appears to be one half of the 2010 edition. Like every Extreme Sündenfall volume, it’s got cringe-inducing cover art (every cover has a different nekkid lady or two for some reason), but that’s balanced out by what will hopefully be some decent music and new artists worth investigating.

Those wacky Germans. I guess a bit of flesh helps them keep the scene alive.

Marilyn Manson — The Beautiful People

In 1996, shows like MTV (when MTV still played music videos) and Rage began airing a disturbing music video from a then relatively unknown American artist calling himself Marilyn Manson.

At the time, Nine Inch Nails was a big deal, two years after the release of 1994’s The Downward Spiral. By extension, industrial metal was attempting to break into the mainstream. The much maligned creation called nu-metal was also busily being the bane of ‘serious’ metal heads who thought whining and wearing dreadlocks was an affront to heavy metal. It’s also worth noting that Kurt Cobain had been dead for two years and the grunge phenomenon was petering out.

Into this environment arrived former music journalist Marilyn Manson with his hit single, The Beautiful People. Produced by both Trent Reznor (Nine Inch Nails) and Dave Ogilvie (Skinny Puppy), its unmistakeable guitar riff to this day hangs like a chain around Manson’s neck, forever the Marilyn Manson signature track.

The shocking-rock imagery and theatrics, the heavy but accessible metal / hard rock sound, and extremely savvy publicity machine (Brian Warner, before he took the stage name Marilyn Manson, was a music journalist with an uncannily sharp nose for how rockstardom worked) ensured Marilyn Manson was constantly in the headlines. And with that, he managed to get himself successfully lapped up by an entire new alternative music generation.

I was never much of a Manson fan to be honest. I don’t own a copy of Antichrist Superstar, from which The Beautiful People is taken, probably because I recall borrowing a mate’s CD copy not long after it came out and not thinking very much of it.

The single that is The Beautiful People represents a throwback to a time when three-track physical releases, put out on the cheap in cardboard sleeves like this one, were a viable way for record labels and distributors to promote themselves, and for pre-streaming / downloads / torrents / YouTube / etc. kids to get their hands on new music.

Those were the days. A widespread alternative music culture was alive and kicking all over Australia — embodied by the tremendous variety and credibility that was The Big Day Out, when it was a genuinely cool alternative festival.

1996 was a good time for a kid to be into alternative music.

Ministry — Twitch

Ministry are a group that its devotees rant and rage over with all their heart, and which I personally took a very long time to ‘get’.

I never actively disliked Ministry. It’s just that they had a sound that kind of didn’t do much for me. The combination of Al Jourgensen’s raspy vocals and the heavily processed, kind of second-fiddle guitar tone just didn’t excite me.

Then one day I had a Ministry breakthrough moment after buying The Last Sucker album, incidentally as part of a previous Heartland Records stash. The first and closing tracks from The Last Sucker — they’re very different but both stompingly good tunes — got me interested in Ministry again, and from there I ‘reverse engineered’ things. I re-discovered classic Ministry albums that I’d previously purchased on reputation alone and from there grew to appreciate all this great music from the Ministry discography that had previously not done much for me.

That’s one of the reasons why I collect physical media. I feel that a predominantly digital-format collection is too ephemeral for my needs. You might not love or appreciate something at the time but you may grow to love and appreciate it later in life.

With digital media it is too easy to forget, which means it is too easily deleted. A physical collection, by virtue of its physical presence, forces you to revisit and re-evaluate. Indeed, I can’t recall the number of times I have bought a release, not thought much of it, shelved it temporarily, and then re-discovered and genuinely re-appreciated it at a later time.

Ministry’s Twitch album is (apparently) a predominantly electronic album. I don’t know how I’ll feel about it compared to later-era, guitar-based Ministry, given that Ministry for me wasn’t love at first sight. And what if it doesn’t grip me first time?

Then I'll shelve it for now and stumble across it at a later time.

Ministry — The Land Of Rape And Honey

Ministry album number three and also the album released immediately after Twitch (above). It’s Ministry’s first attempt to get serious with industrial metal by way of guitars. As with Twitch, I’m not sure what to expect on this one. It’s from Ministry’s early days and is bound to sound remarkably different to later releases.

As for the appalling name… apparently it’s taken from a slogan for a real, actual, genuine location somewhere in America that specialised in rapeseed and other agricultural products. Trust Al Jourgensen to come up with that.

Various — Celebrant 2003 Der Mittelalterliche Klangkörper Zum Wave-Gotik-Treffen

I'll buy you a cookie if you're a non-German speaker and you manage to pronounce "Der Mittelalterliche Klangkörper Zum Wave-Gotik-Treffen" that without inadvertently spitting on yourself.
There are few places in the world where a full-length compilation of artists making Medieval and Medieval-inspired music makes financial sense; there are even fewer places that will host an entire stage playing this style of music at a major international festival.

Germany is one of those very few places. Or possibly the only place.

Wave-Gotik-Treffen is the famous international ‘black scene’ (as the Germans call it) festival where once a year every incoming flight to Leipzig is transformed into Flight Number 666 as thousands of black-clad-wearing freaks invest the city to catch 150 or more bands playing ‘dark’ music, from noise to industrial to goth to — you guessed it — medieval-inspired.

“Der Mittelalteriche Klangkörper” roughly translates as “The Medieval orchestra.”

There are 15 tracks on this compilation from the 2003 “celebration” of the festival. Other than that I have no idea what to expect. I recognise one group here: Corvus Corax, a group associated with Tanzwut, who in my view play the greatest bagpipe / Neue Deutsche Härte rendition of the Beethoven’s Ode To Joy ever recorded.

Medieval-inspired German Medieval music. What’s not to like?

Metallica — Death Magnetic

A few years back I saw this at JB HiFi for the princely sum of $14. At the time I felt that was too much, not because it’s fashionable to trash everything Metallica has touched in the last 20 years (which is laughably easy to do) but because I’d heard so many terrible reports about the dreadful audio compression that Metallica, for all their financial power and production nous, neglected to get right on this album.

Death Magnetic is the album that, apparently, has an unbearably messed up dynamic range. Fans hated it because it could have been a decent album, if only it didn’t sound like arse. Famously, an earlier release of this album's music — released for a video game, no less — didn't get the final dynamic range-ruining, ultra-compression treatment. That is, the video game version sounded far superior.

Nonetheless, I’ve heard worse albums — albeit not from the world’ most successful and best-resourced heavy metal band. For this reason, I felt Death Magnetic shouldn’t be entirely discounted, so I decided to give it a go when I saw it at Heartland Records for the equivalent of $8.

Various — Maschinenfest 2002

Maschinenfest is an annual festival in Germany (of course — where else?) focusing on industrial, noise, experimental and other extreme electronic music.

I’ve got some great stories about Maschinenfest after I went there with a mate in 2013. It was my first ever European festival and the gig (and the trip there and back) was one of my memorable.

I totally had an intriguing, fascinating, thigh-slappingly funny account all written down and ready to share. Then some lowlife burgled our house and stole my stuff. I lost my backup hard drive with a whole bunch of treasured holiday pics.
So that was a bit discouraging.

One day I’ll retell the story of our adventure to Germany and Maschinenfest 2013.

I believe the Maschinenfest organisers release an annual compilation of featured artists. The version here is the 2002 edition, released 10 years before the event I attended, when music (and by music I mean noise) creation technology was less sophisticated. I’ll be interested to see how it stacks up to the 2013 edition, which I vaguely recall I have lying around somewhere.

Imminent Starvation — Nord

Talking of noise, I know of at least one person who claims that hearing this album changed their perspective on industrial music. I don’t know much about Olivier Moreau, the artist behind Imminent Starvation (later renamed just Imminent) although I own his triple seven-inch ‘cowboy-noise’ collaboration with Synapscape. It’s an odd release, being a collaboration of two artists playing rhythmic noise (do the kids still call it powernoise?) and twangy cowboy guitar. For real.

I get the impression that Nord was something of a watershed movement for a lot of people. The individual mentioned above, for example, claimed he lost interest in ‘regular’ EBM after hearing Nord. I’ve heard comparable views, though not quite as drastic, from others over the years.

Nord is eminently dark and foreboding. I heard a few tracks some years back but I was into other, more accessible electronic music at the time. I imagine Nord still holds up today and is as nasty and cold and intense as it was when released in 1999.

God Module — The Magic In my Heart Is Dead

I own the below God Module tour shirt and it makes me feel really old. It’s from God Module’s 2009 Spooky Down Under, which, by my calculation, is getting on to seven years ago. The gig doesn’t feel like it was that long ago, hence why it makes me feel old.

God Module circa mid 2000s was a first-tier name that was routinely mentioned on flyers and in conversations when talking about EBM, terror EBM, terror banana, or any other synth-based danceable music with distorted cookie monster vocals.

It feels like yesterday, just seven years ago.

God Module releases up to 2005’s Viscera album were good, but I thought the follow up, 2007’s Let’s Go Dark, wasn’t as strong. It was fun and had a couple of good tracks, but I felt it didn’t have quite the same strong song-writing qualities from previous releases.

The Magic In my Heart Is Dead was a follow-up EP released in 2010, the first major new release after Let’s Go Dark. I haven’t heard it yet, but I’m keen to know where God Module went with this.

Mz O and Her Guns — Damnation / Salvation

Despite the fact that I spent years attending goth clubs and gigs, spent a lot of time hanging out with goths, and for some time back there probably devoted considerable energy (or at least, considerably more than I should have) to dressing like a goth, I really didn’t get that heavily into goth rock.

I loved all the new EBM and industrial music that I was discovering every week; I loved the huge stripe of alternative music that got played at goth clubs; and when bona fide gothic actually rock got played, I rarely objected to it. However, I just wasn't that heavily into gothic rock. The most extensive collection from a gothic rock artist that I own amounted to half a dozen or more CDs from Australians Ikon. I’ll happily concede that this anomaly in my collection has a lot to do with them being a local group that I gladly wanted to support and which I saw play live on numerous occasions.

Otherwise, my CD collection lacks a significant guitar-based trad goth component (at least as a proportion to my heavy metal and EBM / industrial collection). It’s a shame really, because there is so much excellent trad goth music out there outside of club floor hits.

I wonder sometimes if this dearth in appreciating trad goth rock music had something to do with the radical anti-EBM stance of some of the traditional purists from my clubbing days. Without mentioning names, there was (as is commonly the case with alternative groups) a certain group of people who loudly trumpeted the traditional gothic rock cause, and who were openly hostile to anything that sounded EBM-related. It led to dramas and arguments and silly feuds, and I suspect they played a part in putting me off gothic rock for so long.
Now this was all a very long time ago. We've all grown older and more chilled out. I’d like to think that all parties kissed and made up, or at least feel they could do if called on to do so.

More to the point, it’s never too late to get to love new music. And while one CD from a Christian Death vocalist is a small start, it’s a good starting point nonetheless. I hope Mz O and Her Guns does an unprejudiced job of opening my mind to more trad goth rock.

Assemblage 23 — Defiance

Assemblage 23 is one of those prime offenders who specialised in the above-mentioned EBM devil’s music. I owned the mandatory EBM-goth-industrial club floor filler that was the Disappoint single (more of an EP really) – specifically, that Funker Vogt remix that wows you when you hear it when you enter a club for the first time, and three years later makes you cringe because they’re still playing it. Like come on, they could at least play one of the other six remixes, right? Oh wait, no one will dance if they do that.

Alas, what’s the old adage? The DJ can please all the people some of the time, and some of the people all the time, but never all the people all the time.

Tom Shear (that’s Mr Assemblage 23) is a cool dude. I saw him perform live once and I follow his witty, clever, and genuinely interesting Facebook posts. Apart from the Disappoint single, I own one other Assemblage 23 album, 2004’s Storm (along with two accompanying singles).

I’m not that familiar with his earlier material, like Defiance here, or his later three albums, so this is a good start for a ‘staple’ of the EBM / future-pop that I love and danced to so much.

Nine Inch Nails — The Day The World Went Away

Have you ever listened to an album and thought, wow, how I wish I’d discovered this artist all those years ago when I was an angry teenager / was going through a hard time / was still into good music / etc?

My proper introduction to Nine Inch Nails was when a friend lent me The Fragile double-album. It was 1999, I was in the final stretch of my last year of school, I was desperately trying to figure out where I fit into the world by way of establishing my identity, and I was grappling with all the intense anxieties that come with being 17 years old.

At the time, I thought the first disc of The Fragile was ok. I especially liked (and still do) the epic track We’re In This Together. However, this was pretty much my first foray into electronic music and I vaguely recall wondering just what the big deal was with this band called Nine Inch Nails. CD burning and ripping, let alone file sharing, wasn't prevalent, and I eventually returned my borrowed copy to my mate and didn’t think much of it.

Believe it or not, it wasn't until year later that I got to hear the masterpiece that was The Downward Spiral. Sure, I’d heard Closer and other tracks from the album a million times in clubs, but I’d never sat down to appreciate and properly listen to The Downward Spiral in my own time.

Which is a real shame. In fact, the very thought makes me genuinely sad.

That’s because there is no doubt in my mind that I would have absolutely latched onto the angst and dark themes and sharp, contrasting moods that make up The Downward Spiral. Looking back at my 14 to 17-year-old self, I can easily imagine being blown by away this album, reading into every skerrick of subtext, interpreting every minute part, and totally identifying with this album’s nihilistic meaning, man.

14 to 17 years old is a profoundly formative age. Among the many, many, many things going on at that age that shape who you are and who you become, it’s also the age when you figure out what music works for you. We all move on to discover and love new and exciting music as we move along (or in some cases, tragically leave it all behind), but the albums that we discover and angstily identify with when we’re young will always occupy an unassailably special place in our hearts.

I know that The Downward Spiral should have been one of those albums for me. But alas, somehow it flew past me. By the time I finally got around to listening to The Downward Spiral, it was too late to become a ‘formative’ album. I got The Fragile instead.

As I said, The Fragile wasn’t a bad album. And now that I got my hands on The Day The World Went Away single here, the first single from The Fragile, I genuinely appreciate the mellowness, rich guitar production, and vibe of this track.

But without trying to diss Trent, The Fragile was — for this confused 17-year-old boy who, like others like him, didn’t know his arse form his elbow and therefore based a large part of his identity on the music he loved — the wrong introduction.

Various — The O-Files

Once upon a time I bought 25kg of music from an independent record store. They were closing down and decided to sell their remaining stock by the kilo.
There was I, patting myself on the back for thinking what a fortune I would make on ebay. Then I gradually discovered that this scheme didn’t quite work as planned.
I’m embarrassed to say though that I did this more than once (see my story on buying too much music).

One of the collections I purchased contained a large amount of early to mid-90s industrial and EBM. This was music from an era when goth and industrial were still stewing (sort of) in similar black cesspits. They were less culturally distinct than they were by the turn of the millennia, and bright, fluffy, fluoro raver and graver gear wasn’t a common thing (yet).
The O-Files is a compilation, named after releases on the Off Beat record label.
This record label is known not only for its influential roster, but also because it led directly to the creation of Dependent Records after its demise. Based in Germany, Off Beat and especially its 'spiritual successor' released multitudes of synthy, danceable, future-pop-like or cookie-monster-vocal-accompanied EBM and industrial from artists that became a big deal in the first decade of the new millennium.

Often in concert with the enormous (relatively speaking, anyway) Metropolis records, Dependent released a whole bunch of albums from the likes of Seabound, Covenant, VNV Nation, Suicide Commando, Velvet Acid Christ, and many more.

All of these artists had originally either appeared in some way on the Off Beat roster (either signed or at least distributed through it in some way), or otherwise took their cue and inspiration from the artists on this label.

Having said that, the industrial and electronic music from this era doesn’t blow me away. The production and recording equipment has that distinct ’90s filter, something which I think you had to be around for at the time to genuinely appreciate.

This isn’t to say that there wasn’t a shortage of ripper music released during this time, only that I personally prefer a late ’90s and onwards sound when it comes to EBM / industrial / aggrotech / whatever terror banana sound.

The O-Files is four singles from four artists: Numb, Click Clic, Individual Totem and New Mind (albeit with several remixes). This is always a nice way to better understand the breadth of an artist because, despite being ostensibly a compilation, this makes it almost album-like. Indeed, anyone who collects compilations knows that the old one-track-per-artist compilation is a notoriously hit and miss method to appreciate an artist.

Of course, this being a singles collection, I’m expecting some filler from the remixes. Then again, I may strike obscure gold.

Skinny Puppy — Too Dark Park

Talking of a ’90s filter, how about a late ’80s filter? Like Nine Inch Nails, Skinny Puppy was a Big Deal in industrial music, yet they’re a group I was never into. With Nine Inch Nails it was a case of just two ships passing in the night, whereas with Skinny Puppy it was a case of missing the boat entirely.

I suspect I just wasn’t quite old enough to Dig It with Skinny Puppy (see what I did there?). That is, Nine Inch Nails was a big phenomenon when I was around that I somehow missed, whereas Skinny Puppy was probably five to ten years before my time for me to be really in the right state of mind, at the right time of life, to ‘get’ them.

I’ve bought a couple of Skinny Puppy albums over the years. Some of their early, ’80-era material in particular has me wondering in amazement just how a couple of miscreant kids managed to create such varied and messed up sounds with nothing more than a minimal music setup that they brapped away at over the weekend.

Too Dark Park was Skinny Puppy album number six. I’m wondering if it will be my breakthrough Skinny Puppy moment. If not, like so many releases before it (and as has been mentioned several times already) I’ll simply relegate it until it calls me again at some other time, which in this instance will hopefully be the right time.

C-TEC — Cut

Cut is the second album from this industrial EBM ‘super group’ that was at various times called Cyber-Tec Project, C-Tec, and (according to some releases, albeit listed incorrectly) Cyber Tec.

Their track Let Your Body Die, released in 1995, was popular club hit with a sound that still stands up today — no small achievement given that it’s more than 20 years old!

Cyber-Tec Project counted amongst its members the unmistakeable voice of Front 242 vocalist Jean-Luc De Meyer, plus at various times (live or in the studio) members of Cubanate and even the drummer from Nitzer Ebb.

In addition to Let Your Body Die, which featured its own EP and numerous remixes, I was also a fan of a few tracks on C-TEC’s first album, Darker, a mellow electronic album that takes some getting used and which has long moments that sound nothing like barn-storming, dancefloor-hit stomping dance tracks.

Jean-Luc De Meyer’s vocals, as I said, are unmistakeable. I feel that even a lousy EBM track is made better thanks merely to his contribution. Given the talented pool of people involved in the creation of Cyber-Tec Project / C-Tec material, Cut is unlikely to sound dated, despite being more than 15 years old. It might, however, take some getting used to.

Sunn O))) — Void

So I’ve mentioned three or so times on this page already that the best thing to do with a release if you don’t dig it right away is to hold onto it and revisit at a later time.

This is one of the reasons I trash and criticise albums outright. How you feel about music — even music you don’t like — is so very subjective and dependent on countless external factors not strictly related to how an album sounds.
These factors can range from what your personal expectations are about a release you’ve been waiting for, to whether you’re stressed that day, to whether something meaningful is happening in your life at that moment, which just happens to coincide with you playing a particular lot of music on repeat. The significance and prevalence of all these factors and so many, many, many more can change from week to week or from year to year. Their combined mass amounts to how you would otherwise feel about a certain artist, release, song, or genre. Hence, as I keep saying, if you don’t like something one day, it’s always a good idea to revisit it later; and hence, this is one reason why I love physical media, because it’s harder to delete and forget a physical item.

But once in a while I will come across something that, try and try as I do, just is not for me.

Drone metallers Sunn O))) are apparently one such group.

A mate strongly recommended Sunn O))). So did a record store owner.

And as far as I can tell, abandoning a guitar next to an amp to make feedback noise for an hour is not too dissimilar to this studio-recorded Sunn O))) album.

Perhaps I’ll revisit this 10 or 15 years from now, like I did with the Ministry and Nine Inch Nails releases listed here. Maybe then Sunn O))) will finally sense.

Until then, I’ll stand by the adage that if one doesn’t have anything nice to say, it’s best not to say anything at all.

Clearly drone metal isn’t for me. Goodness, what a snooze fest!

Malichor play blackened thrash at the Reverence Hotel | Awesome gigs I should have said something about at the time

I usually try to snap at least one photo when I’m at a good gig. It’s normally on my phone so the images are inevitably dark (because it’s a dark gig venue) and blurry (because it’s a dark gig venue, and dark gig venues sell beer). I do this to have something to refer to later when I feel compelled to share with my friends and acquaintances this tale of a great band they should totally check out. Then I end up forgetting about it and over the years I end up with an ever-accumulating collection of dark and blurry gig photos.

Today I decided to do something about it. I’ve got some awesome anecdotes, you know. You’re going to love them. So here is the first of…

Awesome gigs I should have said something about at the time

Blackened thrash metallers Malichor rocking out at the Reverence Hotel.

Malichor at the Reverence Hotel, November 14, 2015 was a good gig. And I’ll start by pointing out that what got me here in the first place wasn’t entirely the music.

I came to this conclusion after I caught up with a mate the other night. He’s into punk, making noise, Napalm Death, synths, and The Jesus and Mary Chain.

Naturally we got talking about music and during this conversation we agreed that music, like art, is ostensibly something you’re meant to appreciate on its merits alone. You’re not meant to buy into an image or a faux portrayal of an artist’s persona because the things you like about the music are meant to be the qualities that make it intrinsically artistic.

Or are they?

The music you love — just like the art — has an inescapable emotive side that may very well be about something other than the way it sounds. It could be a front-person’s likeable and magnetic personality. It could be an intellectual view, found in the lyrics or in the concept that ‘defines’ what an artist stands for. Indeed, the main attraction might even be a moral or political principle that the band ‘stands for’ — whatever that means these days.

There is, of course, nothing wrong with loving an artist because of something that is not strictly about the music. We all do it to some extent. It’s just that it can be hard to pinpoint precisely where your love for an artist because they make great tunes ends, and where that love begins because their music embodies something beyond or other than the mere sounds they create.

This is especially so where the interaction between artist and fan is up-close and personal — such as at the bar after a gig.

Heavy metal in Melbourne

This is how I found myself seeing Melbourne blackened thrash metallers Malichor at the Reverence Hotel on November 14, 2015. My reason for being there was something that (strictly speaking) had less to do with the way a certain bit of music sounds.

It started in late 2014 when I was enjoying a drink at The Cabal, an inner-city Melbourne bar that once a month played (pre-recorded) awesome heavy metal all night, at a civilised volume that allows you to talk without shredding your throat. Great music and superb playlists aside, the venue also offers a magnificent 100-plus beer selection. Why oh why will Cabal not return as a monthly event?

There I was, enjoying an obscure beer with a mate, when this tall fellow walks up to us and politely, but confidently and sincerely, hands us a flyer. Dean is his name and his band is playing a gig. If we like Celtic Frost and other solid black, death and thrash names, he says, we might be keen.

We start talking about bands we like (what else?) and the venue’s voluminous beer selection. I should point out that I’ve been frequenting seedy venues places that play good music for many years and I’ve been approached countless times by people whose sole motive is to distribute flyers, because shoving a flyer in someone’s face while you’re in the toilet line is guaranteed to get more payers to your gig.

But not this chap. Far from it. No one in our party got such a vibe. In fact, it seems like a small and at best trivial encounter, hardly worth the brain room it occupies in one’s beer-corroded memory. Yet perhaps this small exchange resonated in the cynic in us all.

Once upon a time, promoting an event involved spending a lot of time getting to know people face-to-face, hanging out in shops and record stores, doing the rounds with flyers and event posters. Now it comes down to how many people you (probably don’t) know online and, more recently, how much you’re prepared to pay Facebook — to reach the vast majority of people who wouldn’t otherwise see your posts despite being your ‘friend’.

In fact, I wasn’t the only one who felt that way that night. A sludge-and-blues-loving guitarist virtuoso friend at our table who also works professionally on sets and stages (‘roadie’ is so 1985, right?) made this point: “Because of that I am going to see your band”.

A few months later I was again at The Cabal, where I bumped into Dean once more. This time he was nice enough to give me a physical promo copy of his band’s latest release, Malichor: Ride As One (because you know, I'm such a super-influential blogger, yes?). Again, instead of talking about his next gig we had a good, honest talk about metal (and beer probably). Then I randomly started seeing ads from local distributor Infernal Devastation Records who just happened to have the Malichor: The Lost City release (a compilation of earlier Malichor EPs) and so I got my hands on a copy.

Malichor: The Lost City

Malichor: The Lost City is fun, honest, sometimes rocking blackened thrash metal, or whatever the kids call it these days. The Malichor Reverb Nation promotional page isn’t too far off when it says they sort of sound like Desaster, Destroyer 666, Celtic Frost, Venom, and Kreator.

It’s not going to get them headlining Wacken but it’s good, honest, fun heavy metal that pays tribute to an era when extreme metal hadn’t been done before and was a raw force that had only just begun to figure out its identity.

So this is how, one year on, more or less, is how I found myself seeing Malichor at the Reverence Hotel in Footscray, Melbourne, basically off the strength of a couple of friendly conversations at an awesome bar, plus a creepy (you have no idea just how much) Facebook algorithm that knows exactly when to serve me advertising for things that I may want to end up buying.
Melbourne is blessed with a lot of death metal and black metal gigs. “Filthy disgusting music for filthy disgusting venues” is how I like to call it, except that the Reverence Hotel is not filthy and disgusting. On the contrary, it’s a big venue that regularly puts on extreme music with a very respectable band room, a wonderful Mexican kitchen menu, and a spacious beer garden. As I’ve said before, any suburb worth living in should have its own little rock pub.

I never thought I’d say this, and I’ll probably upset someone by saying so, but Melbourne is almost spoilt for choice when it comes to local death metal gigs (international names are a different set altogether). No doubt it will change one day, but there are a surprisingly many local, unknown bands vying for your attention.

As mentioned, so much of promotion nowadays has become indirect and faceless. Sure, making your art available for free on Bandcamp and Spotify is now mandatory, but in true first-world-problem style, for many would-be-punters (who themselves know they’re so spoilt for choice) that would require genuine additional effort. What an age we live in…

It’s the small things that sometimes count when presented with the possibility of seeing one blackened thrash metal band I’ve never heard of compared to that other blackened thrash metal band that I’ve never heard of.

Sure, innovate and find clever new ways to get people to come to your gig. But at the same time, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. To use an old adage… keep it real.

Fuck The Fitzroy Doom Scene

Doom metal… desert rock... stoner metal… occult rock. Whatever you like to call it, whatever it is to you, it seems like there's never been a better time to like it.
Not that it ever went away, but its resurgence is doubly fascinating when you recall that the genesis of doom metal and stoner rock goes back close to half a century: to Friday, February, 13^th, 1970, to be precise, when Black Sabbath’s self-titled debut album defied its way onto the airways and into history.

What must it have been like to hear the track Black Sabbath for the first time? To hear that haunting bell chime and spine-chilling down-tuned tri-tone (played that way by guitarist Tony Iommi, as you probably know, as a consequence of a horrific hand injury)? And to have a young Ozzy Osbourne declare “what is this that stands before me”?

Actually, many critics panned Black Sabbath upon its release — and didn’t they get their comeuppance. Everyone else, at least if they were cool and open-minded, discovered something dark and amazing. Friday, February, 13^th, 1970 is widely acknowledged as the birth of heavy metal and while doom psych stoner vintage desert groove metal rock have been with us ever since, 45 years after Black Sabbath’s debut, this style of music is bigger than ever.

Whether it’s the fact that even Iceland can spawn a successful vintage rock act; the large number of festivals popping up around Europe and North America dedicated specifically to this family of music and all its ugly cousins; or realising that it is commercially viable for a record label to sell double-vinyl re-issues of ultra-obscure, suicidally slow, agonizingly heavy Australian cult death doom, it’s never been cooler to like doom metal.

Which, as it happens, is magnificent news for the unforgettably-named Melbourne group that calls itself Fuck The Fitzroy Doom Scene.

Fuck The Fitzroy Doom Scene

I came across Fuck The Fitzroy Doom Scene via my professional day activities where I have a connection with one of their associates. We got talking about music (note: this is one of the great things about rock and metal) and he kindly provided me with a promo version of the debut album, Fuck The Fitzroy Doom Scene: Facing The Ruin.

Facing The Ruin

You get no points for guessing what a group calling itself Fuck The Fitzroy Doom Scene sound like. The totally ’70s, Black Sabbath-esque, Master Of Reality-inspired logo is a strong hint. The way this band legitimately includes the word DOOM in its name is another.

I wonder what this band sounds like?

But just in case that’s not immediately apparent, Fuck The Fitzroy Doom Scene play great riff-filled, hazy, smoky music for equally great riff-filled, hazy, smoky rooms.

It’s doom on the lighter side, with plenty of classic and psychedelic rock moments and lots of groove and swagger, occasionally foraying into punk territory, but their bread is still very much buttered on the side of the psychedelic doom tradition.

One could bang on about them, but as with most written descriptions about new albums and releases, the best way to figure out what you think is to check it out for yourself.

Fuck The Fitzroy Doom: Dream. This is track one from Facing The Ruin , and it starts off as Black Sabbath worship in the best possible way.

Track two: White Crystal Lady. This one’s much faster, even going a bit punk, but it gets tamed back to the mid-pace stoner riffs soon enough. No idea what the subject matter of White Crystal Lady could possibly refer to, just like no one knows what Ozzy was singing about in Snowblind and Sweet Leaf.

Track three: Better Off Dead. Those big, groovy riffs take off again. Also, it’s very nice of Fuck The Fitzroy Doom to provide so many videos. As mentioned, the three videos are all from the one album, which happens to be their debut. They’re rather serious about spreading the word.

Fuck The Fitzroy Doom Scene: Facing The Ruin veers backwards and forwards and around, under and straight through jolly big riffs. They're not overly fuzzed out or face meltingly heavy, just lots of good solid, hard rock riffs. The album spends a lot of time mostly on the mid to slow side and occasionally picks up the pace, before ending on the very chilled out and appropriately named closer, Leaving.

Facing The Ruin is a slow burner, a grower, and an album that is best savoured on multiple occasions. They key is, I’ve found, to give it a couple of listens and willingly open up your hearing canals to allow those ear worm riffs to emerge from the haze and bore into your head.

What’s with the name?

Whether you like it or not, and whether you intend to pay it any heed or not, something that regularly gets Fuck The Fitzroy Doom noticed is the group’s name.

There’s a theory of advertising that says a piece of promotion is inherently effective even if it’s irritating or annoying. That is, an advertisement is effective, according to this school of thought, even if annoys the pants off you. Why? The mere fact that it managed to get your attention means it is successful.

To be clear: there’s no suggestion that Fuck The Fitzroy Doom Scene make annoying or irritating music. But the name surely gets them noticed.

As mentioned, doom metal and stoner rock is Serious Business around the world right now — and it’s getting bigger. If your objective is to stand out from this surprisingly crowded pack, you might as well grab the attention of onlookers from the very moment they’re presented with even half a fleeting chance to become aware of your existence. So often that first point of contact is on a flyer or event invite. If someone remembers you on the basis that you’re called Fuck The Fitzroy Doom Scene, then you’ve gotten noticed and presumably achieved your mission.

Or have you?

I asked my associate contact what the story was with the name and he said they came up with it while rather drunk. “Fuck the Fitzroy doom scene,” one of them had said. For non-Melbournians, Fitzroy is an inner city suburb, kind of Bohemian and hipstery, and I’m told the comment was made in reference to the seriousness and gloom that the group members felt was afflicting various local doom purveyors.

Hence, Fuck The Fitzroy Doom Scene came to be, and hence they play a style of stoner rocking doom psych metal that is big, riffy but nonetheless fun.

The band known as Fuck The Fitzroy Doom Scene in many ways embodies how big this music is right now. Here’s a local Melbourne stoner doom rock band, getting known overseas despite having no more than a debut album under their belts.

Remember, you saw it here first.

10 best EBM industrial tracks on the Endzeit Bunkertracks VII Soundcard (and they'r free!) | Top Tuesday, 11 August, 2015

Last week (ok, two weeks ago but I got sidetracked) was about the five best tracks on the Endzeit Bunkertracks VII compilation. If you haven’t come across it yet, this massive compilation comprises a four-disc box, a bonus CD, plus a 50-track download. It spans no less than 136 tracks in total with a whopping 10:18:50 play time.

Such a volume of EBM and industrial music is not something one gets through in one sitting or digests in a week. In fact, it’s taken more than three months (I bought the set in April) to get through the lot.

I can tell you that one of the surprises was the quality of what was on the Soundcard compilation. It has some outstanding EBM / industrial / aggrotech / dark electro / dark electronic stomping music / call it what you want tracks; yet the fact that it’s all on a free-to-download industrial music compilation is even more amazing. Seriously, you can get it here: Endzeit Bunkertracks [Act VII] soundcard.

Endzeit Bunkertracks Soundcard

As mentioned, the Endzeit Soundcard has 50 tracks. While many are bog-standard music in this genre, there are many more that are brilliantly quirky, if not outright weird in the best possible way. The Endzeit Bunkertracks VII Soundcard is hardly a storage bin for the cut-offs and filler. The overall standard actually well above average, and as mentioned, amazingly enough, it’s a free compilation. So when you grab it, make an effort to buy something. Induce the label that releases amazing compilations like this one to do it again.

If you need convincing, here are the 10 best* industrial tracks from the Endzeit Bunkertracks VII Soundcard.

Durandal X Xiescive: Rabid

Industrial music is always at its best when it’s doing one of two things. The first is when it’s being thunderously, face-meltingly intense. The second is when it’s being skin-crawling creepy.

Rabid is a somewhat minimal electronic track that firmly fits into the latter. Even though it has some of the old screamed cookie monster vocals, they’re kind of in the background. Most of the track is left open to allow for a long, spoken word sample, which sounds like it’s lifted straight from a medical lecture from the 1940s. The title is a giveaway, as the sample eerily describes the increasingly horrific effects of a rabies bite.

The final line says it all: “The patient becomes quieter. He lapses into a coma. Which is followed, inevitably, by death”

Third Realm: Deliverance

An amazing track that’s best appreciated by actually listening to the damn thing. This is mid-tempo, ‘contemporary’ (whatever that is) industrial music with a slight hint of guitar. The driving force behind this is the superbly shouted vocals, electronically processed in a way that gives the whole thing that much more of a tortured edge without actually reverting to the cookie monster effect.

It’s also repetitive, in the hammer-the-point-home kind of way that ensures there’s zero doubt about what the message is and where it’s going.

Diverje: All The Fakes (Touched By Stahlnebel & Black Selket)

A little bit like the above, but more tongue in cheek. It’s still slightly above mid-tempo and the vocals are still harsh (but still no cookie monster here) but slightly less so than the above.

This track is all about the soaring chorus. In fact, give it a couple of listens and the vibe of the entire track is that the whole thing is one big chorus.

I’ve got no idea what the topic is bemoaning. Something about how “All the fakes… Come together… To take over.” But it makes you want to come back again and again.

Shadow Lady: Species (Endzeit Mix)

Processed, semi-vocodered electro-ed vocals are easy to get wrong, and can work wonderfully when done well (usually if you’re Daft Punk or can otherwise afford to spend three continuous days working on three-second sequence).

Species (Endzeit Mix) has a kind of simple, catchy 4/4 electro vibe which on its own wouldn’t stand out from the pack. The inclusion of heavily processed vocals, not so much chopped up as reshuffled, is what makes this track. I don’t know the vocalist’s name but what she’s doing works.

There’s something very quirky about. Maybe it’s her disarming accent?

Synapsyche: Breath Control

A slightly generic but catchy EBM / future-pop (does anyone even say “future pop” anymore?) synth-line with some equally generic and shouted male vocals. There is, however, one dominating vocal sample: a short, repeated loop (from the vocalist herself?), that somehow just works.

They must have had thought that less is better. I’d like to fantasise that when they were making music, they somehow recorded this vocal snippet and decided to keep it and see what they could do with it.

As with the Shadow Lady track above, maybe the secret is the vocalist’s rich accent? They’re from Italy after all.

M.O.D.: Without Regrets

You’ll love or hate this. Dancey and kind of cheesy-sounding synths, with heavily accented, shouted, girly (very girly) vocals. If you’re not into this kind of thing then you’ll likely see it as somewhat whiny.

If, like me, you think it rocks, then you’ll dig the pace, danceyness, and quirkiness. This ain’t cookie monster mush; but it’ll make you want to move in just as much.

Hasswut: Nicht Für Mich

Honestly, when making EBM industrial music, who needs any sort of singing talent, let alone awareness of the concept of staying in tune? All that’s required is an utterly commanding (and, preferably, somewhat gravelly) German speaking voice.

Nicht Fur Mich (which translates as “Not for me”) is all about rather basic, sort of uplifting trancey uplifting synths, put in their place by that utterly commanding, not-even-shouted-but-still-awesome German voice.

In the finest tradition of EBM and industrial music, this track compensates for melody — and even basic singing in tune — with raw vigour and energy.
And German.
Especially when your band name literally translate as “hate-anger”.

Antibody: Shrimps

The mandatory tongue in cheek powernoise track. The track would be little more than knuckle-dragging, super-distorted, ear-bleeding industrial noise — until you realise that the ‘ingenious’ overlayed spoken sample that forms the basis of the track is none other than Bubba from Forrest Gump recounting the enormously long list of variations on shrimp recipes. In German of course.

It’s funny enough in the translated dub but it ought to work just as well for English speakers.

Hey, remember what I said last week about gimmicks in industrial music?

Neonsol: Manipulation

Once again, this track proves that less is often better. Like Synapsyche’s Breath Control, the hook on this track is very much based around a single sampled and much-repeated vocal sample.

In German, of course.

Which means that it’s reminiscent of Hasswut’s Nicht Fur Mich, only that it’s less gravelly and somewhat more… authoritative?

Add to that vocalists Nina’s contribution. She skips the accent entirely and goes straight for the German vocals instead (although I hear their home country is Denmark).

Neonsol call themselves “solar-powered electronic dance beats”. Seriously, it’s on their Facebook page. Whatever that is, it’s got a hard-to-ignore quality to it.

Psychiocold: Burn In Hell

Take a simple but cool synth line that sounds moody and a bit fatalistic. Play it long — perhaps overly long — until it becomes more about effect or hypnosis rather than variety. Then add some slightly ephemeral vocals.

If this had less production going on behind it they might call it darkwave.  But it’s atmospheric, vaguely spooky and gothy, yet epic without being excessively stompy.

I can see the goths furiously swirling their capes to this while the scowling rivet heads (you’re not allowed to smile so this is how they show feelings of joy) stomp their boots accordingly.

* I say “10 of the best” tracks because, if you check back to last week, the best track on Endzeit Bunkertracks VII is Aim & Execute: Phantom Energy. It’s an absolute barnstormer and in my view, it’s the best track on the whole compilation.

Endzeit Bunkertracks VII | Top five Tuesday, 28 July, 2015

It’s been an EBM-industrial kind of week. Specifically, the EBM gothic industrial electro aggrotech (or whatever the kids call it these days) stompin’ dancin’ music released by the Belgian Alfa Matrix label on this year’s Endzeit Bunkertracks VII compilation.

The Endzeit Bunkertracks compilations are some of my favourite industrial music compilations. First released in 2005, teach of the Endzeit series releases is based on a four-CD set, packaged in a cardboard box with some nice artwork to boot. A graphic artist who knows what they’re doing is usually commissioned to do the cover art, layout, and separate artwork for each CD sleeve. The basis of each compilation is a mix of primarily rare and unreleased music (more on this later) by well-known artists alongside some new or incredibly obscure ones.

Earlier this year I acquired the Endzeit Bunkertracks VII compilation. Echoing the commercial state of CDs and other physical media, Alfa Matrix now offers the Endzeit compilations with a considerable amount of added value, which is of course awesome if, like me, you love physical media.

 Say what you like about physical media, I still love and buy CDs.
This is actually an older photo and I’ve added another shelf or two since.

Endzeit Bunkertracks VII

This year’s compilation is huge, comprising the four-CD set, plus the ‘generic’ label-wide Sounds From The Matrix 16 CD compilation (I believe they offer the Sounds From The Matrix compilations as bonuses to other paid for packages), plus the download-only Endzeit Bunkertracks VII: The Bonus Tracks compilation.

This last one is a free download compilation so one could argue that it’s not ‘true’ value. Personally, I choose to see it is a legitimate component of the official package – plus I got a plastic card with a download code.

All told, the complete Endzeit Bunkertracks VII compilation including Sounds From The Matrix 16 CD and the Bonus Tracks counted 136 tracks for a total duration of 10:18:50. Yes – 10+ hours!

That’s some package. It takes more than a few listens to properly digest that amount of music!

Now that I’ve finally gotten round to it, here are five of the best tracks from the Endzeit Bunkertracks VII compilation.

Aim & Execute: Phantom Energy

As mentioned, one of the best qualities of every Endzeit Bunkertracks releases since the 2005 debut lies in the fact that they offer a superb mix of well-known and obscure artists, with all track ostensibly rare and unreleased.

10 years later the ‘rareness’ of tracks is something of a moot point due to the instant gratification that everyone expects from streaming and downloading.


Nonetheless, as I said, I still love physical media and physical media packages that offer bonus download content. I also love the fact that this compilation has been curated — compiled, since it is an industrial music compilation after all — with the intention that it be enjoyed in a specific order, balancing the well-known with the obscure.

The track Phantom Energy by Aim & Execute is an example of how an obscure artist gets to be heard in the same breath as the likes of Combichrist, Noisuf-X and Alien Vampires, all of whom feature on Endzeit Bunkertracks VII.

I’ll preface this by saying that, in my view, so many of the best dancefloor-orientated EBM goth industrial Endzeit aggrotech whatever you want to call it anthems have what I call a gimmick — usually a sample (come on… Exterminate Annihilate Destroy) or something derived from a sample.

Don’t get me wrong, I love gimmicks with all my heart, but what grabbed me about this track was that it still kills, but without any obvious gimmick.

Phantom Energy features some superb Noisuf-X / Agonoize-style stomping, accompanied familiar distorted cookie monster vocals. What makes this track stand out — apart from being well-written and having just the right level of stomp and swagger — is the addition of non-distorted, actual human shouted metal-punk vocals, instead of those traditional distorted growls. It’s something you rarely hear with this style of music and it sounds absolutely demented, while still fitting in beautifully with what this music ‘ought’ to convey — whatever that is.


Listen to this track, especially the second half, and try and tell me that Phantom Energy isn’t a raging stormer of a track, superb for both listening and stomping. My only criticism? The recorded volume on those angry human vocals relative to the rest of the track is a tad conservative. They’re maybe on a 5 out of 10 and deserve to be on at least a 7.
Otherwise, this is angry, demented dancing music at its very best. I truly hope this becomes a club hit and Aim & Execute: Phantom Energy is my favourite track on the whole Endzeit Bunkertracks VII compilation.

Amazingly, for such a quality track, Phantom Energy by Aim & Execute appears on the free download set.

PreEmptive Strike 0.1: Epos Of The Argonauts

Hey, remember what I just said about gimmicks? Epos Of The Argonauts by Greek artist PreEmptive Strike 0.1: takes a gimmick — and amps it up to epic proportions.

I ain’t complaining that sooooo much industrial music sample science fiction / horror / war movie films, but nonetheless, it’s awesome to hear a track that so quirkily pulls off not just samples — but the entire vibe of a track — from a very different kind of movie.

Specifically, the fantastically camp, 1963, stop-motion special effects, sword and sandal epic that is Jason And The Argonatus.

Yes, this is an industrial track — seriously, the artist is called PreEmptive Strike 0.1 — and the track is about a bunch of ancient Greek heroes going on an adventure, fighting mythological monsters and giant bronze living statues, and taking that Golden Fleece. It works wonderfully. Great stuff.

Diabolic Art: Fortitude (and every other previous Diabolic Art track)

Google [Diabolic Art industrial] and see what you find. Not much, right? I’ve discovered precious little about this artist, which is a real shame considering how awesome he, she or they are.

“Mysterious” is definitely the right term for Diabolic Art. So far I’ve determined that Diabolic Art is most likely from Japan, goes under the alias of DJ Taiki or Taiki, and has put out a few tracks and remixes that I can only describe as transcendentally dark and creepy.

You really have to hear it for yourself (good luck finding much!) to really get it. I would describe it as kind of vaguely dark-psy, but stripped down to a more minimalist sound.

Everything I’ve heard from this artist has ranged from very good to excellent. If you want downright dark, maliciously hypnotic, eerie industrial music, this is it.

Now if only Taiki — whoever that is — would be a bit more open about their music, then I could get my hands on an album or release.

Amduscia: Una Esperanza Rota

So for some reason I always thought Amduscia had a very close association with Hocico, or were one half of Hocico, or something like that. They’re both from Mexico. They make terror banana aggrotech industrial. They’re practically the same group, right?

Well obviously not. But whatever it is about Mexico, there’s something about the place that gives these artists an uncanny ability to make amazing electronic music based on tunes and sounds that, on their own merit, should not reasonably be considered to stand out or be awesome. That is, these Mexicans have a superpower whereby they make music that is more than the sum of its parts.

Amduscia’s track Una Esperanza Rota is a case in point. It features what ought to be a generic as all hell bass-line, vaguely reminiscent of the famous 90s hard trance track by Überdruck, Drugface. The main synth sound should also, on its own merits, be considered generic. The production is rough and there’s even some of that low-end electrical interference buzz sound (you know, the sound a power unit or amp makes when it’s just sitting there, plugged in).

There’s nothing mind-blowing going on in this track, yet the sum of its parts as a whole amounts to something much greater. It sounds powerful, compelling, angry, dark, and somehow just works.

How do they do it? I’m guessing if you want to make ostensibly simple music that sounds this good you obviously need to go to Mexico.

Lovelorn Dolls: Happy Valentine

Oh boy. It’s all good to sing about Armageddon, the machines taking over, war, famine, disease, the Occult, violence… but it’s unsettling when a goth-sounding group sings mordantly (I think… it’s hard to tell) about domestic violence.

Lovelorn Dolls do well-produced goth rock, leaning heavily on the polished electronic side with an excellent vocalist in Kristell Lowagie. This one came from the Sounds From The Matrix 16 CD and while I rarely pay much attention to EBM lyrics, here are the quite audible opening lines to the track Happy Valentine.

“Slap my face with your fists”

“Crush my head on the wall”

“And then come back again”

“With some flowers in your hands”

So this the goth track Happy Valentine is the odd one out from this group. It’s an undeniably catchy song, well-written, but subject matter makes it hard to ignore.

Some may feel that the unpleasant, shocking subject matter is what makes this track noticeable. Other may feel that a goth rock band, who play dress-ups and all that, can’t be taken seriously while attempting to deliver sharp social commentary. Either way, this track stays in your head.

When your objective in life is to get heard, then hasn’t your mission been achieved? At the moment it seems to be their second most popular track so they’re evidently doing something right.


Check it out here (the embedder ain't working for me for some reason)


Coming next week…
Endzeit Bunkertracks VII honourable mentions. There are 131 more tracks to choose from. Plenty of more good ones.

Top five Tuesday: 21 July, 2015

Here are five artists or releases that have been on high rotation this week. Mostly (but not all) heavy metal, and mostly new stuff — and all worth checking out.

Ozzy Osbourne: No More Tears

Someone ought to popularise a single-word term to describe the phenomenon of buying up a legitimate CD, vinyl record or digital version of a copied recording they owned when they were young.

Are you old enough to have owned dubbed cassette tapes (far out, just saying that makes me feel old!)? Or did you play burnt CD-Rs based on low-bitrate MP3s? If you did, chances are some of your most formative music was among those recordings.

You were likely a teenager back then, which is when so many of us discovered the music that shaped a substantial part of our identity — and the reason you burnt or downloaded that music was because, like most teenagers, you probably couldn’t afford much. Which is why nowadays, you acquire your music through legitimate means that support artists, right? Right?

The fact that the zeitgeist of an album or artist may have passed between then and now is a separate discussion. I’ve mentioned numerous times how I believe there is a biological reason why it becomes harder to discover new music as you get older.

So putting that aside for now, I can happily report that I owned a copy of Ozzy Osbourne: No More Tears on dubbed cassette when I was a kid. I’ve now replaced it with this here copy, which I acquired for the princely sum of $1 at an op shop. It was part of a good haul of heavy metal CDs that someone had (shamefully!) gotten rid of.

Can you believe it was 50 per cent off the $2 cover price?

No More Tears didn’t define me as my first Iron Maiden cassette tapes did but it’s still a great place to start for any 10-year-old getting into heavy metal and hard rock. Ozzy Osbourne’s sixth solo-album, released in 1991, this album has some rocking songs and some great riffs — albeit with a strong glam feel to it.

Ozzy Osbourne was ‘only’ 42 years old at the time. Although he was already something of an elder statesman of rock and metal, he wasn’t anywhere near the old-man parody of today. Hence, an Ozzy Osbourne album meant a lot more to ‘the kids’ back then than it would now. Hey, remember what I just said about zeitgeist and cultural significance then and now?

No More Tears has some great Zakk Wylde guitar riffs. The title track, despite clocking in at seven and a half minutes, brings a really cool, weird, progressive side to the music. And Lemmy — yes, that Lemmy — co-wrote several songs. He told Classic Rock magazine: “When I came to America I was broke, I had nothing in the bank… Sharon Osbourne said, “Do you want to write four songs?” and they handed me this lump sum that was more money than I’d ever seen in my life. More money than I’d ever earned with Hawkwind and Motorhead.”

On the more dubious side, No More Tears has some incredibly sappy ballads, among them Mama, I’m Coming Home — which of course became Ozzy’s most successful single.

Either way, it’s not surprising that No More Tears is the second-highest-selling album in the Ozzy Osbourne discography, after his debut, Blizzard Of Oz.

A personal highlight is the track Hellraiser, also co-written by Lemmy (as if a track called Hellraiser wouldn’t be written by Lemmy). Oddly enough, both Ozzy and Motörhead released this track, the Motörhead version appearing on the Hellraiser 3 movie soundtrack.

You may think you’re awesome, but you’ll never be Lemmy-winning-at-cards-against-the-Cenobite-Hellraiser-himself-awesome.

Xerosun

I first came across Xerosun on the Terrorizer magazine Fear Candy #142 compilation CD. I’ve heard just two tracks, yet I can’t quite put my finger on why I keep coming back to them. They’re real growers.

Xerosun are an Irish metal band that play a kind of vaguely groove metal-ish metal, with some good riffs and a vocalist in Martyna Halas who can pull off a neat balance between clean and growled vocals.

For some reason — I really can’t put my finger on it — there’s just something about those riffs combined with her dual voice that brings me back again and again. While I make no secret that I absolutely love female metal vocals, I strongly suspect it’s the Irish accent. Once you hear it, you can’t unhear it.

I think the video is kind of distracting. Listen to the talent at play here.

Because Xerosun are fronted by a woman, and a very attractive one at that, the metal world will of course in many cases judge them (and Martyna Halas  especially) way above and beyond what so many male-fronted regular shit metal band would be subjected to. Or should that be shite metal bands?

Hopefully by next century the double standard that is so prevalent in metal will be gone. As I mention below, there need to be more women making this kind of music. That way, twice as many people will show up to your gigs.

Listen to that Oirish accent in that growl. See? Now you can’t unhear it.

Bad Guys

Bad Guys: Guynaecology is the recently released album from these London-based rockers. Apart from the ingenious album name, think sleazy, straight-down-the-road, beer-soaked rock in a smoky pub somewhere. If they were Australian, I’d call them Aussie dickhead rock.

When Kevin Stewart-Panko reviewed Bad Guys’ Guynaecology album in Terrorizer he savagely rated it 2 out of 10. “Parts of the album’s second half iron out bits of the bullshit and present some halfway decent, hard rocking stoner sludge, but there’s little beyond a clever title to make this this worth investigating,” he said.

I can see why someone might not like this album. It’ simple rock that is heavily reliant on the vocalist’s personality and storytelling talent. According to the band, they got rejected from Metal Archives for not being metal enough.

After one listen, Bad Guys: Guynaecology didn’t strike me as overly memorable — except for this stand-out track. I said the Bad Guys vocalist is a story-teller, and the track Crime tells how he really, really, really wants… a Tonka truck. This one’s an ear-worm quality and the track kind of just stays with you. You’ll have to listen to it in full to hear the total non-twist at the end.

The also have another song called Prostitutes (Are Making Love In My Garden).

Lucy Cliche

You know, there just aren’t enough women electronic music producers around. You know what would happen if there were more women making electronic music? We’d have twice as many people show up at shows. Which would be great for everyone.

I don’t know much about Lucy Cliche (check out her Soundcloud account), only that she’s from Sydney and is probably a synth-hardware nerd of the best kind.

I saw Lucy Cliche perform as one of the support for Melbourne’s Forces at a recent gig. We watched this solitary performer get on stage, start twiddling knobs and buttons, and get a whole room of people going.

There were four people in our entourage and at least two of them I would consider synth people. According to these synth-nut observers, her setup was entirely from hardware. That is, there were none of those laptops — an impressive feat, I’m told.

Lucy Cliche does not make the kind of electronic music I get into at all. I like my electronic music to be dark and hard and nasty. Listening to this though, there’s just something somewhat entrancing and inviting. I’m not sure what that quality is — maybe it’s simply because she’s a good producer — but I guarantee you I wouldn’t be listening to this if I hadn’t seen here live.

That’s one of the great things about getting off your arse and checking out live shows and their support. It gets you into new music that you wouldn’t normally follow.

Ninkharsag

Really, really good black metal from the UK. I came across these guys almost at random, when I read a gig report about another group for which Ninkharsag just happened to be the support. The report described Ninkharsag as “one of the UK’s best new black metal bands” — and if their newest album is anything to go by, this may be true.

Ninkharsag are from Liverpool and are signed to Candlelight Records, the same label that has at various times put out releases from the Marduk and Emperor discography.

Their April 2015 album, The Blood Of Celestial Kings, is my only point of reference so far. It’s well-produced black metal, leaning on the more up-tempo side, played kind of straight down the line. It’s neither mind-blowing nor radically different, being neither symphonic or lo-fi or excessively weird or atmospheric. Rather, it might best be described as ‘traditional’ black metal — and it’s done really, really well. Have a listen to any track, in any order.
Also, really cool artwork and band name.