Devin Townsend // Our Oceans // Spirit Caravan

 Replace Neil Young's restless energy with clinical bipolar disorder and a see-saw approach to experimentation and you have an idea of who Devin Townsend is. Ocean Machine represents the two threads of his creative drive before they split apart and demanded segregation in separate works: spaced-out ambiance and a more unassuming and deceptively earworm-y blend of progressive/alternative metal than is usually seen. Billy Joel's reaction to hearing Cold Spring Harbor's faulty original pressing was to throw it into the street -- Devin's was to re-record the whole damn album.

C+

Supergroups are the McDonalds of music. They're seemingly always around and most of the time they just fuck up your order and put you in a bad mood, but once in a while they get it right and it just hits the spot -- and Our Oceans really hits the spot. Polished and striking like a fine watch, with an inner mechanism that hints at master craftsmanship, the level of competency on display here is impressive for a bunch of ex-death/progressive/avant-garde metal stiffs. Points deducted for that college freshman level album art, though.

B 

This thorough anthology contains the majority of the output of the true prince-in-exile to Ozzy's throne, Scott Wino, working with perhaps his most wholly successful and consistent band ever. While the second disc is more of a patchwork of semi-filler material, the first is pure stoner/doom magic -- the Caravan proceed from one concise head-banger to the next, with as high a ratio of quality material as Trouble circa '91-'92. Look elsewhere for the Dreamwheel EP, if you must (it's not good).

B-

Just Cause 3

Repetitive in every sense of the word, Just Cause 3 is a disheartening example of a sequel moving two steps back from it's progenitor

Kill Screen kind of already knocked this one out of the park but here we go.

//

More than any other "open world" game, I remember Just Cause 2 not for it's "Chaos system" or upgrade system or variety of different shit to blow up and people to murder, but it's world. The island nation of Panau is etched in my mind as one of my all-time favorite virtual landscapes that I've experienced -- more than the weapon upgrade system or grappling hook/ parachute gimmicks or the insanely low-fi nature of the game's campaign, I remember spending hours just... flying around and exploring. I would literally start the game, head to an airfield, put on an album or podcast, and just... tool around in a plane and do whatever. Bomb the shit out of an oil rig? Sure! Hijack one of those sweet heavy bomber jets? Hell yes. What I was actually doing didn't matter, because the varied environs of Panau were so damn good looking (I have no idea how they got that game to look that good on the 360) and convincingly realized that I spent hours just wandering around and exploring.

Fast forward 5 years: it is now 2015. Video games... have changed. Games festooned with clutter (Fallout 4) and never ending lists of side-chores (Ubisoft games) have become very popular. Avalanche Studios didn't exactly hit a home run with Mad Max, so the sequel to the purest open world experience was hotly anticipated. Unfortunately, yours truly was to busy playing Mad Max and uninstalling Fallout 4 to realize Just Cause 3 was very nearly upon us.

For starters: Just Cause 3 definitely still feels excellent in the movement department. The addition of the wingsuit (coupled with the more forest-y landscape) gives off a pretty pungent whiff of Far Cry, but that doesn't diminish the fact that Rico soars around the isles of Medici more gracefully than he ever has, which Avalanche definitely deserves recognition for. The gunplay also feels less hilariously trashy this time, but it's still stuck in the Crackdown wheelhouse of floatiness and nonexistent recoil so not much has changed there besides the fact that your small arms are surprisingly effective at destroying what I would assume were hardened military equipment --- radar systems, generators, and fuel tanks will all fall to the continued fire of your weapons (honestly) quite easily.

On the opposite side of things, vehicle handling has been imported almost flawlessly from Just Cause 2 -- that is to say that any kind of ground vehicle handles amazingly, vein-meltingly bad, but planes and helicopters handle a bit better than before, where they were completely fine. I'm sure this issue will be fixed with mods eventually (at least on PC), but most of the difficulty comes from the fact that the camera tracking Rico is apparently a heavily zoomed feed from a satellite. Coupled with the "less than competitive" level of response from the controls and you have an open world game that really doesn't seem to want you to use vehicles. Infuriatingly, this design philosophy also applies to the large amount of "mods" Avalanche has added as optional upgrades to your starting equipment, which can only be improved by obtaining "gears" from "challenges" -- minigames that have you competing against ghost times of other players. Instead of exploring the environment they've created, you're encouraged to ignore it in favor of self-contained exercises until you're allowed to use the fun stuff.

Unlike JC2, there isn't much design variety -- there aren't any deserts in Medici and only a small portion of it is snowy and distinct from the perpetually-spring environs of the rest of the game world. The landscape itself only looks slightly better than the previous game's offering and gave me some weird frame drops during explosions, which also don't look particularly memorable here. There is an insane amount of pop-in and on a whole the whole package just looks... cheap. The skybox is less interesting (especially after the brilliant one in Mad Max) and the world is less varies on the whole. The core gameplay loop of blowing stuff up is repeated here ad nauseum. Just Cause 3, despite it's lengthy development time, manages to cut out the emergent excellence of it's predecessor in favor of an ample supply of side-quests to fuel your character's progression. It's unfortunate that they opted for such a disposable type of "content" (though it is totally understandable).

Soma

Soma, Frictional Games' follow up to the breakout success of Amnesia: The Dark Descent, is pretty tough to write about -- it's not as intense as Amnesia or as abstract as Penumbra. Instead, we have a very detailed science fiction narrative that touches on old chestnuts like the nature of consciousness, what it means to be human, rogue AI, etc., delivered in Frictional's trusty piecemeal, sound-byte audio log method, which has never worked better here -- the small crumbs of narrative goodness lead you on a story that seems much more complicated than it turns out to be, which only made me more anxious to progress and see how things would resolve. The environmental design is some of the best I've seen in a while: Soma's ocean-floor segments inspire a real sense of awe at the sheer vastness of this place, while it's mechanical and monster designs are as top-notch as ever. What really makes this game stick out is it's lack of a position on the issues it raises: it's dark stuff, and it's delivered so evenly that you're left with no choice but to consider your own positions on this stuff. For such a modest time (about 8 hours) and money (about $20) commitment, Soma is a standout.

KXM - "KXM" | OSI - "Blood"

Distortion-soaked grooves and lyrics touching on faith and loneliness are deep in the weelhouse for Pinnick's devotees, but for a freshly-minted supergroup KXMs fondness on vamped riffs to get to that 4:30 mark is frustrating. Maybe dUg has a bet with Mike Portnoy to see who can form the more forgettable hard rock trio? C+

"Terminal" and the title track are interesting, but Moore and Matheos never achieve a good enough fusion to make the rest of this really come alive -- the heavy songs sound stilted and the soft ones feel stretched. Bonus points for blatantly reusing keyboard patches during Mikael Akerfeldt's song (the most overlong piece in OSI's discography) and for assisting Gavin Harrison in recording his most forgettable drum parts. C

Mad Max

A solid core of driving mechanics and top-tier environmental design struggle to stay afloat in a sea of repetitive, low-reward filler activities and strangely forgiving survival mechanics

In terms of lasting influence and predictive ability, George Miller's Mad Max series has cast an enormous shadow over the media landscape after it was unleashed in 1979 with it's iconoclastic characters and signature vehicle-mounted gangs circling the refinery. A quick licensed cash-in to ride the waves created by Fury Road seems a fate far too corporate to befall Max, but just like the ruins of the old world occasionally encountered in the films, Avalanche studios constructed the bones of a game that may have had a real shot at capturing the tenuous desperation of Miller's bizarro outback, then seemed to crush it under the weight of triple AAA gaming's smiling reaper -- "content".

That map shows about 60% of the total area of the map 30 hours in, with a suspicious number of icons sprinkled around, almost as if to scream at players "Don't worry! Even though it's a big wasteland there's still plenty of stuff here! Please be assured that you will be constantly stimulated with activities and errands in case you were afraid of not getting your money's worth". (Also, why have this awful, giant map crawling with little blips? If any game seemed to welcome the resurrection of Far Cry 2's immersive physical map idea, than this was it). The constant bombardment of reminders and indicators is relentless, and inexcusably so for Mad Max. Your minimap isn't toggleable, so you can't really ever fully submerge yourself into the world and so it's difficult to feel any attachment to it since the game doesn't seem to want you to just drive around and drink it in.

At the center of this checklist-clearing inanity is Chumbucket, your faithful companion and sidekick. The very existence of this character begs many questions that are best left unpondered, but needless to say you'll be forced to tag team with Chum for the vast majority of the game, despite also encountering and befriending a dog a la The Road Warrior that is subsequently gated from actual use in a the most aggravating and idiotic way possible. He wouldn't even be that bad if he was just another character you could visit every so often, say, to upgrade your car (I assume this was how he was originally conceived because I assume anyone suggesting a forced buddy character in a Mad Max game was immediately fired). He does actually fix and upgrade your car, at no cost, in another strange concession to the "casual" crowd, making your "Magnum Opus" feel more like an overpowered cheat item than an indispensable resource. Chum also does the whole "buddy character exposition source" thing like Ellie from The Last of Us does, blessing you with the same fifteen lines of dialogue ad nauseam, which rubs up against the game's halfhearted interest in environmental storytelling awkwardly, like Avalanche needed a failsafe to constantly remind players of what to do or something -- trust me, ask anyone who's seen a Mad Max movie and they'll tell you exactly what you should be doing in a Mad Max game.

Besides the false-start pacing (why do open world games after Far Cry 3 even bother doing campaigns?) of the story itself, the game's mechanics and systems are similarly frustrating, because (to me at least) most of what could make a good Mad Max game are already found here, just... buried:

• Fuel is implemented as both a resource and a weapon - sweet! Luckily, cars in this game are apparently all based off Prius engines and get approximately 400 miles to the gallon, so you'll never ever have to worry about actually running out of juice. Try not to think too hard about the irony there.
• The currency of the world is "scrap". Ok, so why does one character talk about people "dropping bills"? Also, where do I store all this magical scrap as I collect it? I assume in my car, because its only able to store a single spare gas can and nothing else.
• Enemy cars give you practically no scrap at all. What better source for scrap car parts would there be than fully functional cars? Also, if scrap is the currency in this place, why do trucks with upwards of 500 scrap in the back drive around unprotected, while large groups of armored cars protect convoys of already-abundant gasoline that drive around in circles?
• Why can't I lure enemy cars to their doom by making them drive off cliffs or into walls like Max does in the movies? Also, why is Chumbucket the only person who thought of using a harpoon gun?
• Shotgun shells are supposedly scarce even though there are guys with sniper rifles(!) all over the place. You also find shells in ammo boxes everywhere but you never see anyone using any other guns.
• Remember outposts from Far Cry? Yeah, there in here.

I could go on, but you get the picture. For a franchise that basically wrote the book on scavenging there's precious little of it that you'll be doing in Mad Max. Despite the weighty animations of combat and the throaty roar of the Magnum Opus' engine there's a lack of consequence that just feels... wrong.

Happily, it wasn't all for nothing. The few moments of emergent gameplay that manage to slip through the blockade really shine, as Max offers unprompted comments on landmarks and locations that immediately breathe life into the wasteland, as do the environment's frankly jaw-dropping skybox and lighting effects. The larger issues with the game will never really be fixed, but much of the damage can be repaired with some kind of hardcore mod -- and if Mad Max: The Wasteland is as successful as it's predecessor was, Max may be given another shot at redemption.

Ghost - Meliora

Returning to the 70s hard rock that informed so much of their early sound, the Swedish devil-worshipers deliver a tightly written collection of supremely catchy Occult-themed arena rock 

Ghost have been walking the tightrope between "gimmick poser" and "trve retro" status for some time now since their previous record left a mixed impression. Whatever you thought of Infesstisumam, the anonymous members of this bizarre Satanic rock group present their latest offering: Meliora, which hilariously translates to "better".

Right from the insanely cheesy keyboard of opener "Spirit" you get a good idea of what Ghost seems to be aiming for here, and hook-laden follow-ups "From the Pendulum to the Pit" and "Cirice" only confirm their intention to return to the taut dark-pop of 2010's Opus Eponymous", and it speaks to their ability to produce this kind of stuff with such consistency that Meliora doesn't feel like as much of a retread as it truly is. "He is" sounds frighteningly similar to Fleetwood Mac during the chorus and the heaviest material seems to be cribbed from Deep Purple and Blue Oyster Cult at times, but they still manage to rock good and hard, with late-track sleeper "Absolution" stealing the show (check out that Journey-style outro and keyboard break!).

Meliora isn't shy about it's pop leanings (it's longer than Opus by nearly seven minutes but feels much shorter somehow and the instrumental interludes have been cut down almost entirely), and while there may be a bit of long-term replay-ability that it sacrifices to achieve this level of consistency and ear candy that doesn't diminish the level of Ghost's accomplishment here: an occult-themed rock record drawing heavily from the ancient aquifers of hard rock and metal pioneers that practically gleams with songwriting and production polish.

OSI - Fire Make Thunder

The progressive super-duo's 2012 release sees the two principal members' talents woven together more effectively than since their debut, marrying thick, groovy riffs with excellent atmospherics and lyrics

Quietly plugging away on the fringes of the progressive scene, OSI have operated like a modern-day Alan Parsons Project with a revolving cast of guest musicians adding their weight to the vision of the main drivers of the project -- Kevin Moore and Jim Matheos. Characterized by a bizarre back and forth between the more subdued electronic inclinations of Moore against Matheos' fat riffs and industrial/grunge tones, the quality level of OSI albums resembles that of smoothies: the best of them smoothly blend these disparate styles together so that removing just one of the two can't be done. Likewise, the lesser records tend to be chunkier and less free-flowing -- you can distinctly identify which songs are Moore's and which are Matheos'. Releasing in 2012, Fire Make Thunder is not particularly new - but it may very well be OSI's last album. More importantly, it's the perfect smoothie blend of the two figureheads' respective styles and the best thing they've done since their debut release.

The disc starts off strong with one of the group's better straight forward metal tunes in "Cold Call", delivering a forcefully repetitive riff that feels groovy as well as robotic, and is a perfectly solid opener that continues into the follow-up track "Guards", which displays a bit more of the group's progressive bent. Fire Make Thunder doesn't really start to click until mid-album instrumental "Enemy Prayer" shows up, however, as the boys lay down a fierce instrumental that rivals trademark "how to write a good instrumental" example "Sirius" for brevity and hooky songwriting (hint: the out-of-nowhere guitar crescendo at 4:00 and Gavin's in general on this album are both amazing)  before bringing things back to a somber mood with the evocative "Wind Won't Howl". The rest of the album, "Big Chief II" and "For Nothing", are excellent -- the former seems almost too catchy to be a Kevin Moore song, whereas the latter reaffirms the somber mood found throughout the disc. It's with the darkly winding river of closer "Invisible Men" that Fire Make Thunder reaches it's zenith incorporating an almost David Lynch-esque atmosphere with some not so subtle Pink Floyd references that close the book on the most cohesive and well-written collection of songs the band has ever put out. Despite it's gloomy aura, what's really sad about Fire Make Thunder is the possibility that OSI never delivers a follow-up.

Trials - This Ruined World

Top-notch riffing and an impeccable sense of timing, Trials comes out of nowhere with this excellent sleeper hit.

While re-thrash is no longer the de facto face of metal, a devoted group of bands is still trying to solve this musical Rubik's Cube left seemingly broken and unusable by the founding fathers of the genre, and Trials' This Ruined World lines up at all the right angles.

Adopting a similar approach to Skeletonwitch's blending of styles, This Ruined World is a razor-sharp splice of high-speed riffs a la Havoc tucked in among some of the best riffs this side of Lightning to the Nations with a very impressive grasp of optimal song length -- like the 'Witch and Revocation, Trials knows how exactly how long they need. One of the best re-thrash releases ever and certainly one of the highlights of this year.

Chroma Key

Kevin Moore's unexpected departure from Dream Theater in 1994 apparently gave him the freedom he needed to begin recording his own music as the head honcho of a new outfit, called Chroma Key, most of which is pretty interesting. Their first record was released in 1998 and, as you may have guessed, is called Dead Air for Radios. Beginning the Kevin Moore tradition of mixing genres less-than-seamlessly, it's basically a couple of laid-back electro-pop songs (think Peter Gabriel but more "chill" and less David Byrne-y) nestled among some pretty cool pieces built around interviews Moore recorded himself while living in Santa Fe and some strange random found-sounds.

It starts slow, but if you're willing to follow along here Dead Air turns out to be a pretty solid little album. If you're annoyed by the lack of commitment to either full-on synth pop or whacked out samples with drum loops over them, Kevin Moore isn't for you, especially once you hear me tell you (or is it see me write to you? Both I think) that his next album is more of the same.

Released in the far off year of 2000, You Go Now is basically Dead Air for Radios songs that fermented in Moore's head for a bit longer -- as a result this is a very iterative album. The pop songs are sharper and the spaced-out ones are more trippy, bro. If you've got a seat on the Kevin train then you'll eat this shit up, otherwise look elsewhere.

Chroma Key's most "recent" release and definitely the most high-concept one (also maybe coincidentally the last?), Graveyard Mountain Home is the soundtrack to a 1955 film slowed down to 1/2 speed. You're supposed to be able to enjoy the music without the movie, but that seems about as fun and logical as drinking non-alcoholic beer.  This one is only for those in first class on the Kevin train.

Brian Eno / David Byrne - Everything That Happens Will Happen Today

Masterfully assembled, the trailblazing duo's first work in 20 years combines Byrne's Gospel-shaded lyrics with Eno's digital beats to create an album as simultaneously inviting and foreboding as the famous house on its packaging

Few figures loom as large in the annals of pop music as Brian Eno and David Byrne. One is a mysterious trend-setter who has greatly expanded the domains of the "pop album", while the other is a gangly Scotsman who balanced experimental sounds with enduring staples of rock music. What happens when they collaborate after years apart?

Some damn good material, that's what. Everything That Happens Will Happen Today is an album that other bands are jealous of -- just as the artwork depicts a well-crafted facade, the songs here seem so slickly put together that you can't imagine them playing out any differently. If pop music works best when it distracts you from the amount of work put into creating it, then Everything That Happens... is like one of the great pyramids: no one really knows for sure how it was put together, other than the fact that it must have taken a lot of work.

The overall atmosphere will be familiar to anyone who's familiar with David Byrne's oeuvre, but this time his springy voice is dampened by a musical palette that is at once light and hopeful, yet also reflective and slightly ominous at times. According to Eno, this album was intended to resemble Gospel music and that intention can be pretty clearly heard in the strangely pseudo-spiritual lyrics of tracks like "My Big Nurse", along with the ascending chorus of the title track and the swingy, almost-funk horns in "Life is Long". The album lazily sways between these more traditional numbers and their familiar comforts and more challenging and adventurous tracks like the word-salad of "I Feel My Stuff", the primitive groove of "Wanted for Life", all the way back to 1981 with the most Eno-ish song to be found here -- "Poor Boy".

These tracks are impressively consistent and thankfully lacking in filler -- even shorter semi-interlude "The River" manages to impress with it's interesting lyrics while "Strange Overtones" is one of the best pop songs you'll ever hear. While these two weirdos keep the compositions remarkably fresh throughout, the biggest problems most will have with Everything That Happens... is the more conservative (i.e., pop) bent that the material displays, or David's voice. All things considered, though, Everything That Happens Will Happen Today is a catchy, smart, and reassuringly off-beat album that easily stands with the rest of this duo's impressive work.

King's X - King's X

Perhaps King's X most undersung masterpiece, this self-titled LP from the Texas trio presents a set of well written and meticulously crafted material that sees the band baring its' darker side for the first time

When a band transitions between styles, the gap between has always fascinated me: the difference between Haken's Aquarius and The Mountain, Opeth's metamorphosis from Still Life/Blackwater Park into Heritage/Pale Communion. What made them decide to move from one style to the next? Boredom? Ambition? Notions of artistic integrity or "being true to themselves"? Regardless of the motivations, a band emerging from the warm cocoon of a familiar style into some kind of uncharted territory can be just what's needed to progress their output to the next level.

King's X is one of the more interesting examples of this type of change (and one of the more interesting alternative rock bands in general), starting with a chunky blend of prog-laced rhythms and evocative harmonies before taking a leap of faith into the grunge movement that overtook popular music in the 90's with legendary success, delivering a stunning magnum opus in their 1994 album Dogman. Before Dogman, however, came the band's only self-titled record, which is coincidentally one of the less talked-about King's X records and the album that is responsible for bridging the gap between the cheerful, peppy releases that gained them notoriety in their early years and the alternative, darker, and more groove-minded discs that characterized their later years.

The self-titled album is perhaps rock music's best paradox: a record intended to distill a band's entire sound into one 45 minute package, hopefully equally appetizing to longtime devotees and new fans. While these goals are realistically one and the same for self-titled debut albums, bands that choose to wait before offering up an eponymous release face a bigger challenge: how do you capture a band's trademark "sound" after several albums (and oftentimes several years) of recording, touring, and general life that happens? It certainly seems like a tough task, and it seems like the only thing you can do is present your sound as you think it is at that point in time.

As a "pure" snapshot of a band's "trademark sound", King's X is probably not a great example -- it features relatively little of the unconventional compositions that marked their earlier albums, while also featuring less than some may have expected of the band's heavy side. Instead, the album is a time capsule of a group figuring out where to go next after three albums of the music they liked to play. Older followers would (and hopefully still are) be have their prog thirst sated by numbers like "Lost in Germany" and introspective closer "Silent Wind", while tracks like "The Big Picture", "Dream in My Life" and "Chariot Song" should've secured at least a modest amount of radio play and/or newer listeners. And then you have groove-drenched cuts like "Black Flag", "What I Know About Love", and "Ooh Song", which give clear indications of the trio's increasing knack for conjuring up the best riffs in rock since Diamond Head. In fact, right from the uncharacteristically aggressive opening of "World Around Me" King's X show off their new leaning right off the bat, only letting things slow down with more traditional tunes like "Not Just For the Dead" and the intriguing "Prisoner".

Throughout the album the band is dropping hints as to their new direction, from the the chunky breakdown in "World Around Me", the dirty bass line in "What I Know About Love", to the driving force of "Ooh Song".Yet without the abandoning the thing that made them unique in the first place or adapting unnecessary pop sensibilities, they managed to deliver a remarkable synthesis of the two disparate halves of their career and music in King's X. Few other acts have managed or will manage to pull off a self-titled album with this much sophistication and accessibility while simultaneously exploring a new aspect of their sound.

Curation vs Criticism in the Streaming Era

Back when the only way to find out if you liked an album was to either buy it, listen to in the store (if they even let you) or hear a song on the radio, traditional music criticism served a purpose. It still had problems, and even if it was just some random newspaper's ignorant opinion it still had some weight to it, acting as a flimsy meatshield between the ocean of garbage music and your hard-won money.

Nowadays, though, none of us have to suffer those critics any longer. Regardless of the "score" the record gets you can just listen and decide for yourself, obviously making traditional reviews seem kind of superfluous. Unfortunately, the increased ease of both accessing and creating music has resulted in an increase of the amount of shitty music that exists -- and the shitty music is just as easy to find as the good stuff.

It'll be interesting to see if criticism shifts to more of a "curation" model, kind of a "if you like X, you'll love Y!" type of thing, or if the division of communities stay similar to how they are now as a bunch of walled gardens and the old "objective" standards of critical writing are continuously propagated.  

Tempel - The Moon Lit Our Path

Imposing yet accessible, the Arizonian instrumental "post-doom" duo serve up an incredibly solid iteration on their brilliant debut album without straying from their particular style

When I first came across the Arizona-based duo Tempel, I remember thinking "This is where the growls start....right......now! hum?!" many times over the course of On the Steps of the Temple, their crushing debut disc -- I couldn't believe that their ridiculously groovy blend of monolithic riffs and acoustic palette-cleansers could exist without some sort of vocals taking advantage of it. After a couple more listens, however, it became clear that Tempel with vocals would just distract from the sheer quality of the writing on display.

Now just a year and a half later we have their sophomore effort: The Moon Lit Our Path. Tempel stick to their guns on this one, delivering a hefty hour-long package, full of dark atmospherics a la Opeth accompanied by their particular mixture of doom-style riffs and death-esque blastbeats. Much like On the Steps of the Temple the songs stretch out into the 10 minute mark -- it's impressively cohesive and it actually feels natural to listen to the whole thing in one go -- despite the lengthy run-times the music scrolls past you almost like a mural or mosaic, chapter by chapter. The instrumentation is spare, with a tasteful bit of keyboard work rounding things off on the excellent closer "Dawn Breaks Over the Ruins". The rest of the album is similarly well-written, especially powerful opener "Carvings in the Door" and the title track.

The Moon Lit Out Path is a strong album, and Tempel have shown that their stellar first attempt wasn't just beginner's luck. With their chops properly demonstrated, I'm looking forward to the next evolution of their sound.

Supershine - Supershine

With riffs as titanic and immovable as any black hole, this one-off album joins the soulful vocals, massive bass tone and psychedelic-tinged power chords of two of hard rock's most legendary outfits for an occasionally repetitive, yet thoroughly enjoyable disc

Besides being one of the more interesting ways a bunch of established musicians can attract attention to a pet project, supergroups can also somehow distill the combined personalities of their members, from the off-beat, funky hard rock of Them Crooked Vultures to the Beatles-tinged progressive fusion of Platypus, all the way off the cliff to the avant-garde craziness that is Fantomas. Frequently these groups create music that harks back to their respective main bands in some way, but rarely does the combination of talents align with such complementary interests to create an album like Supershine.

This (tragically) one-off disc is the result of the efforts of King's X frontman Doug Pinnick and Trouble members Bruce Franklin and Jeff Olson -- basically a who's who of underground rock titans. With King's X guitarist Ty Tabor behind the boards, the album sounds just like the cover -- dark and enveloping, with Pinnick's voice guiding us through it all like glints of light through deep space.

Song-wise, Supershine is a marriage of the power-chord plodding of Trouble with the soul-infused prog-grunge of King's X, although it tends much more towards the Trouble side of the coin with a distinct lack of vocal harmonies and and the knotty compositions Pinnick's group is known for. Instead, we have some of the crunchiest and most satisfyingly bottomed-out riffs and grooves that any of the members have produced in their careers. Honestly, there are better grooves in "Take Me Away", "Going Down", "I Can't Help You", and "Automatic" than in any band not involving Scott Weinrich. For a palette cleanse, you've got polite little numbers like "One Night", "Candy Andy Jane", and an excellent cover in "Shinin' On". Pinnick is in fine form, though even his powerful pipes get drowned in the the throbbing wall of guitar and bass at times, which is just what you'd expect from these resident riff-warriors. Clocking in at just under 50 minutes, the boys keep things at a respectable length and don't overstay their welcome, although the few stinkers that sneak in drag things out a bit, in particular "Love" and the unfortunately anti-climactic closer "Shadows/Light", the latter being the only song here that would probably have worked better as a straight-up Trouble song.

Those looking for a sampler platter of the best bands the music world passed by during the late 80s/90s, look no further -- same goes for anyone looking for a semi-rare artifact of one of hard rock's most enjoyable partnerships or even just a damn good rock album.

Leprous - The Congregation

Leprous move toward a blend of their previous disparate styles to mixed results on their fourth full-length

Striking an intriguing balance between their more traditional Dream Theater-influenced  prog brethren and the prickly heaviness of the djent and black metal styles, Leprous have been one of the more interesting and dynamic progressive metal bands around since they dropped their debut, Tall Poppy Syndrome, out of nowhere in 2009. Since then they've steadily shifted gears from a heavy-prog-tinged-with-avante-garde wackiness to an increasingly dark, groovy palette with a heavy use of repetition (Coal). Their eagerly anticipated fourth album, The Congregation is finally here, and, kind of like that album artwork its confusing to experience, seemingly made out of recycled bits, and doesn't seem to mesh with the music very well.

Luckily, things get off to a good start: opener "The Price" is probably their best lead track ever, with a pulsating groove, excellent chorus, and a tight runtime. "Rewind" is another highlight, and one of the most successful of the more experimental tracks contained here, as is "The Flood", which reminded me of "Valley" of Coal in all the right ways (Also, I can't remember the last time I liked an album's early-release singles this much in a long time). From here on out things get a bit murky, as the middle stretch of tunes - "Red", "Slave", and "Within My Fence" can't keep the fire burning hot enough, although "Slave" is kind of interesting lyrically and "Within My Fence" is only about three minutes long. Like every Leprous album, though, the back end of The Congregation is almost worth the price of admission: "Moon" is a forgettable but pleasant song, kind of a slightly-less-interesting "Passing" or "Painful Detour", but "Down" and "Lower" are both excellent tracks in their own right.

A lot of the buzz around Leprous is discussing where they're going, as Coal drew mixed reactions. The Congregation is definitely not Bilateral Pt. 2, but it isn't Coal: Reloaded either. The best songs here achieve an impressive fusion of the syncopated djent-y riffing going on in Coal paired with the things that Leprous does best: big, hooky choruses, weird compositions, and vocals that sound like a goth version of Freddy Mercury. Sadly, the good ideas here are weighted down with a sizeable number of weak songs put up against a lot of good vocal lines (although nothing crazy like "The Cloak" or "Mb. Indifferentia" which is a bummer), at times The Congregation really starts to sound like an Einar solo album. Considering how tightly-wound their previous albums were, its a bit of a bummer to hear a Leprous album with such a lack of memorable instrumentation.

That said, Leprous are the kings of the earworm so its entirely possible that The Congregation will grow on people (and me) over time. Just try not to leave right after the sermon.

Mad Max: Fury Road

Scummy, dangerous, and terrifically enjoyable, Mad Max: Fury Road is one of the best action films in recent years, featuring nerve-wracking stunts and the return of the franchise's'iconic weaponized vehicles.

One of the greatest joys of movie-watching is seeing one person's particular vision or style shining through the countless layers of editing, re-shooting, re-recording, re-writing, and general compromise that comes with shooting a movie, especially one with any kind of large budget. When hundreds of people you barely know are working on something like this, it takes a special kind of personality and guiding hand to maintain the film's style. With an ample supply of both money and talent, George Miller's post-apocalyptic touchstone roars back to life.

First off: Fury Road isn't a reboot. Its simply a direct continuation of the previous Mad Max movies with a new Max, Tom Hardy. Hardy's handling of the role is much like Kiefer Sutherland's replacing of David Hayter in the new Metal Gear games -- he seems good, but only had roughly five lines of dialogue so it's hard to tell for sure. To be fair, Fury Road has a pretty light amount of dialogue in general, but Hardy certainly has the "gruff mush-mouth" type down pat -- and for most of the movie, Max is just along for the ride as other characters drive the plot -- a plot that is pretty stripped down, with just enough hints and details to flesh things out while still serving as a series of, honestly, pretty compelling reasons to watch insanely tricked out vehicles crash and and explode.

The vehicles, of course, are the heart of soul Mad Max, and the ones created for Fury Road are nothing short of breathtaking. The chase/battle scenes are the centerpiece here, and the more than 150 (!) unique, hand-made cars and trucks created for them are fully-driveable works of art. These sequences are psychotic waltzes of sand-coated brutality with some very impressive stunt work and choreography -- roughly 90% of the action is practical, i.e. real. I would be remiss if I didn't give huge props to Colin Gibson, the production designer who brought Miller's automotive insanity to life.

As far as the story and acting goes, it's solid. There isn't a whole lot of exposition, but what little of it exists is delivered convincingly, and Charlize Theron wrings pretty much everything possible out of her character. On thing about the characters here: they die with surprising frequency and suddenness, and those deaths hit way harder emotionally than I thought they would.

As a full-on action movie, Fury Road is incredibly solid -- an effective plot, solid acting, with an emphasis (honestly, a reliance) on over-the-top chase sequences that are both nauseatingly dangerous to watch and insanely well put together, with top-notch visual design and cinematography. It's definitely worth a test drive.

Soen - Tellurian

Moody prog-metal supergroup's second disc sees them move away from Tool-worship with this set of intricate yet intimate songs. 

Of all the big-name progressive acts that are frequently name-dropped as influences, Tool is one I don't see being mentioned much as one might think. Swedish prog supergroup Soen are clearly big fans of Maynard and the gang, as their debut album Cognitive drew equal amounts of kudos and condemnation for their very Tool-like sound. With their sophomore release Tellurian, do they step out of Tool's shadow? Yes, and what emerges is infinitely more interesting than mere hero-worship.

The most immediately affecting aspect of Tellurian is, unfortunately, how it sounds. The production here takes "bottom heavy" to a whole new level, with an ever-present layer of murky bass that constantly fights with the other instruments to maintain dominance. The drums also sound less than stellar -- the bass drums sound more like far-off machine gun fire than musical instruments during intense passages without other sounds to cloak them. While the guitars and vocals are fine, this production job is the single biggest thing that takes away from my enjoyment of this album.

Questionable mixing aside, if the songs themselves are good, then they should be able to shine through, correct? Yes, and in Tellurian's case, they certainly do. Tracks like "Ennui", "Pluton", and especially "The Words" are incredible pieces of music, and Soen do the "dark/heavy music with emotive lyrics" thing much better than Tool ever did after Aenima, striking just the right balance between proggy noodling (of which there is precious little here, thankfully), Opeth-like heavy passages and catchy, memorable choruses, and unlike most other prog outfits today, Tellurian clocks in at a pretty lean fifty-two minutes -- you won't find any filler here, which helps the songs maintain a more consistent quality. "The Other's Fall" is probably the worst of the lot, but Soen really stepped up their writing game and crafted each song with memorable hooks and choruses to keep you interested.

So yeah, Tellurian is more than just a step in the right direction -- it's a leap forward in evolution for these guys. (Plus, just look at that artwork. With sleeve art like that, it's gotta be good, right?)

Psychotic Waltz

Lumped in with the burgeoning progressive metal movement, Psychotic Waltz were one of the more interesting bands to come out of that scene. Originally formed under a different name, they started releasing music in '86 and made some waves with their debut album, A Social Grace, which was pretty much a straight-up progressive/tech death record a la Atheist (who's Piece of Time came out just a year prior) with some odd Jethro Tull-ish flourishes, like (seriously) flute solos and light keyboard.

If they continued down that path, though, Psychotic Waltz would not have been nearly as interesting. Their next album, Into the Everflow, came out in '92 and generated even more buzz than A Social Grace, as they began their metamorphosis into spaced-out psychedelic metal. Tracks like "Ashes", "Little People", and especially "Freakshow" kept up the "progressive" facade (which they would soon abandon), weird-ass pieces like "Out of Mind", the title track, and especially the album closer "Butterfly" showcase a band going totally off the reservation -- and they never really came back.

1994's Mosquito brought the Waltz's strange brew of trippy lyrics and spiky, intricate song structures to a boiling point. By this point they had more or less completely abandoned the "progressive" scene as it was now defined by bands like Dream Theater and Queensryche on the metal side of the spectrum and neo-prog revivalists like Spock's Beard, the Flower Kings, and Marillion on the softer, more traditional end of the continuum. Instead, they descended even deeper into the hazy depths of stoner and psychedelic music than ever before, turning in their most hooky, accessible record yet (or since). The first half of the album still holds up as one of the strongest opening salvos recorded -- tracks like "Lovestone Blind", "Haze One", "Locked Down", and the title track are insanely groovy, reaching an excellent balance between the whacked-out lyrics and soundscapes of psychedelia with the slammin' riffs of the best stoner music has to offer. Unfortunately, tensions within the band were high around this time, and Psychotic Waltz's last chance at real success passed them by, caused by a combo deal of poor promotion, being signed to a succession of obscure European-only labels, and the apparent bad luck that comes with being a metal band playing anything somewhat original.

They would end up releasing one more album. 1996's Bleeding which, while not quite a chore to listen to, is a far cry from their previous height, leaning more towards the technical style of their early years with decidedly less memorable arrangements than usual. After Bleeding, the Waltz broke up and seemingly went their separate ways, but in 2010 they began touring again and announced plans for a new album. It's been five years without any news, so I'm not holding my breath, but the legacy of Psychotic Waltz is still plenty strong as it is.

Haken at the Token Lounge - Set Review

After missing the chance to see Haken with Leprous (still kicking myself for that one), I had resigned myself to not being able to see them for another couple of years until their next album was out. When they announced a short tour to support their Restoration EP, I jumped on that shit immediately.

Acoustically speaking, the venue (I saw them at the Token Lounge in Detroit) was good but not great -- there were a couple of sound/mixing issues that came up, especially during Haken's set, but they weren't bad enough to derail anything.

Tiles: It was fitting that Detroit's version of Rush opened the tour in their hometown. They're opening song was incredible but the rest of their material wasn't quite as memorable, but the guys kept things pretty entertaining. The highlight of their set (and the show in general, honestly) was Mike Portnoy coming out at the end to play a cover of "The Spirit of Radio" with the band, which was dope as hell. After seeing them live I'm definitely going to give their albums another spin.

Imminent Sonic Destruction: These guys are very new and have only released one album so far, but I really enjoyed their funny mix of slammin' breakdowns and progressive instrumentation. Unlike Tiles who kind of made me sad (especially when Mike Portnoy mentioned them opening for Dream Theater like 20 years ago), these guys clearly having a great time just performing, and it was hard not to like em'.

Next to None: Mike Portnoy has a son named Max who is also a drummer, and Next to None is his band, and they are all 16 year old kids. I had never heard them besides one Youtube video that I didn't like, and I wasn't a huge fan of the stuff they played, but their cohesiveness and playing ability can't be denied (for whatever that's worth). It was a strange mix of Periphery/The Contortionist riffing and the usual mix of clean/screamed vocals, with a bit of noodling thrown in for good measure. Once these guys get more practice at songwriting/arranging they should be pretty interesting.

Haken: The boys from the UK were what everyone came to see, and they did not disappoint. Despite missing their lead guitar player (apparently Richard Henshall's flight got delayed?), these guys really delivered, both performance-wise and setlist-wise. There were big numbers like 'Atlas Stone" and "In Memoriam", deeper cuts like "Shapeshifter" and "Drowning in the Flood" (maybe not a deep cut), but the thing that took it over the top was the back-to-back performance of "Crystallized" and "Visions", both of which were incredible, as were the guys themselves: Ross was totally on point, Ray Hearne was a total monster on the drums, and Diego's keytar solos were ridiculously awesome.

So yeah, pretty badass show.

Crypt Sermon - Out of the Garden

As sweeping and grandiose as the album artwork, new-age doomers Crypt Sermon deliver a promising, yet somewhat predictable debut

With album art straight out of 1987, Philly doomsters Crypt Sermon took "the metal community" (ugh) kind of by storm with their debut full-length Out of the Garden a few months back. It immediately started getting rave reviews and it seems like Crypt Sermon have replaced Pallbearer as the premier pet band of internet metal nerds. The fickle favor of the 'net can't be mistaken, can it?

Emphatically, yes. Out of the Garden is certainly good, but its greatness will depend on your overall opinion of doom music in general, and in particular how much you like Candlemass, because Crypt Sermon is basically a modern American version of them. So, like Solitude Aeturnus? Right. Since I was never a big fan of those two bands in particular (or this style in general) I'm biased against this stuff, so keep that in mind.

Even as a self-professed non-fan, Out of the Garden does a lot of things right. The vocals are at a good mid-point between growling and opera wailing with enough emotion to at least keep me interested. The songs themselves are mostly solid, and I'll give credit where its due, though I have my doubts about how hard it is to write good doom songs when the format is basically built around big bluesy riffs and grooves. Aside from the final song sounding a bit too much like a Heaven and Hell cover, Crypt Sermon do a nice job of mixing it up and not sounding like total ripoffs (which must be very hard in this genre), and tracks like "Holy of Holies" and "Heavy Riders" are seriously quite good, although the 2nd half of the disc is noticeably weaker than the first.

Out of the Garden is a solid debut from Crypt Sermon -- not exactly breaking the mold (or even attempting to, really) but definitely delivering some above-average classic doom to those pining for the genres glory days (the late 80s I guess?). When these guys are ready to step out from under Candlemass' shadow, I'll be interested in what they come up with.

Black Sabbath - 13

A sizeable offering of doom and dread that re-affirms Black Sabbath's position as metal musics most reliable landmark 

I don't remember hearing much about this album when it came out, which strikes me as odd now considering its relative importance. The other guys from Sabbath had been keeping relatively busy with other projects (most important to me was the excellent The Devil You Know album), but Ozzy wasn't exactly making waves with his solo stuff anymore, although truthfully he stopped releasing good albums after Randy Rhoads died. Maybe 13 came and went quietly because everyone expected a Sabbath reunion to happen at some point and we were just glad to get it over with?

The kings of dinosaur metal aren't so easily fobbed off, however -- 13 is a chunky, full-figured record, clocking in at just under an hour, not counting the bonus tracks (which I stupidly assumed were just part of the normal album unto just now). You might think it'd be a little sad to see these guys recording almost exactly the same album they've been recording for their whole lives, but Sabbath have such an honest and unassuming aura about them that if never feels like they're repeating themselves just to "sell out" or something -- they do the same thing here that they've done on every album: bury you alive in dirty, bluesy riffs while Ozzy wails about eating bread. Wait, what?

Silly lyrics aside (welcome to metal), 13 comes out of the gate strong: "End of the Beginning", "God is Dead?", and "Loner" are an amazing opening set, with "God is Dead?"'s insanely good chorus and "Loner"'s stacked chords that sound straight of 1970. The boys kind of lose steam afterwards and never manage to replicate the chunky goodness of those opening tracks, although "Damaged Soul" comes damn close. There are some quieter ballads breaking up the onslaught that are also pretty weak, and despite "Zeitgeist"'s interesting lyrics the never do more than act as intermissions for the main event -- who listens to Black Sabbath for the ballads, anyway?

The other odd thing about this album is the production, coming to us from the "Lord of the Loudness War", Rick Rubin. While most people aren't a fan of the production on 13 (and as someone who normally hates this "brickwalled" sound) I actually don't mind how this album sounds. The guitar is phat, the drums are big, and you can actually hear the bass! For Sabbath's lower-register sound I think 13 sounds mostly ok, with the weirdest instrument definitely being Ozzy -- he sounds almost too lucid, maybe a bit auto-tuned or something, although since he hasn't sung in a couple dynasties I'm not used to his voice. In any case, 13 is a disc that reassures us that the old fogeys aren't quite out of energy yet.

Steven Wilson - Hand. Cannot. Erase.

Steven Wilson delivers another solid album of engaging neo-prog on this latest disc, incorporating more noticeable electronic and pop influences

I have conflicted feelings about Steven Wilson. On one hand, I'm a huge fan of his work as a producer (e.g. Pale Communion) and I generally enjoy his work in Porcupine Tree and other bands. On the other hand, I've never been particularly interested in his solo stuff. Not because its bad (it isn't), it just kind of... floats by without much impact. It isn't quiet enough to be ambient and fade into the background nor is it engaging enough to make me sit up and get into it - so basically its exactly like classic '70s prog. Luckily for us, though, Hand. Cannot. Erase is enough of a blend of the poppy, atmospheric stuff he's known for with the knotty, proggy stuff he's also known for that it actually has a shot at pleasing most people.

Whereas Wilson's previous disc, The Raven That Refused to Sing (And Other Stories), was pretty solidly prog-rock leaning, Hand. Cannot. Erase. is much more of a pop album. While some of the songs are certainly long (several clocking in at 10 minutes), they act as bridges between the shorter, punchier songs rather than the other way around, which is a nice change of pace. The electronic influence is plain to hear as well -- HCE trades in the Mellotron and Hammond organs of yesteryear for drum machines and more modern-sounding keyboards, making for an interesting contrast to Wilson's previous albums. The songwriting is mostly up to par for Wilson (which is very high), although the album does drag a bit in the middle - "Routine" probably could've been a few minutes shorter, and the sequence of "Home Invasion" into "Regret #9" into "Transience" might've been a bit punchier had they been combined into a single, edited piece. The longer songs just aren't as effective at demonstrating Wilson's expertise at arranging hooky vocal lines and power-chord-y compositions, a talent that is frankly unmatched in modern progressive music besides, maybe, Leprous.

That said, Hand. Cannot. Erase. is a solidly enjoyable album with most of the strengths and weaknesses of Wilson's past work. Will it sway you if you didn't care for him before? Probably not, but you'll definitely like some of the songs. Will you like it if you already like his stuff? Yeah, you will.

Casualties of Cool - Casualties of Cool

                     
  Haunting, catchy, spacey and dark, Casualties of Cool is an intriguing blend of richly textured traditional bluegrass and out-there electronica

While its tempting to make overblown comparisons to past legends when discussing a promising release from a young group, its usually in everyone's best interest if us critics practice some restraint to avoid sending our collective hopes on a perpetual roller coaster ride. So while I don't think Devin Townsend is the Neil Young of our modern age, Casualties of Cool is just another indication of his wide musical interests (and abilities).

I'm not the first to draw a line connecting the two - while Young has had a couple decades' lead time, Townsend has released a staggeringly large amount of music in the years he has been active, including several unconventional releases that mirror Young's experimental period in the 80s. The success of those experiments is another topic, but its hard to think of another singular artist who has pursued his own musical vision with such earnest effort (and a similarly anti-industry stance).

And so here we have his latest effort, Casualties of Cool, a (trust me, I can't believe I'm writing this either) progressive bluegrass album created with help from a cadre of guest musicians - most prominently the vocal work of  Ché Dorval, who previously assisted Townsend on 2009's Ki and is featured much more prominently here (almost more than Townsend, actually).

Casualties of Cool is ostensibly a concept album - I won't "spoil" anything for you story-wise, but I wish you luck in following it, as even with the lyric sheet I wasn't sure where the actual story was. It certainly isn't Operation Mindcrime, but just the songs taken at face value are plenty strong enough. Townsend and his crew have crafted an ingenious blend of catchy foot-stompers (Daddy, The Code), spacey ballads (Flight, The Field), and strange electro-prog blends of the two (Deathscope, Mountaintop). The atmosphere is somber, and the music exudes a sense of comfort and maturity that imbues Townsend's best work, and trades in the juvenile zaniness of Ziltoid or Deconstruction for a more restrained sound with a more trance-like sound, reminiscent at times of The KLF (Deathscope) and Above and Beyond at moments (Moon).Ché Dorval's haunting and ethereal vocals are the star of the show here, giving off a breathy, noir-ish aura that is as alluring as it is chilly, with a Julee Cruise-like sense of distance. The atmospheric use of samples, audio effects, and additional instruments (including some excellent saxophone work) is just icing on the very rich cake that is Casualties of Cool. A brilliantly unassuming passion project of this quality and length is unfortunately rare, and Casualties of Cool is well worth the time invested.

Leprous - Bilateral

Unassuming and quietly confident, Leprous solidified their position as the leading producers of ridiculously catchy bizzaro metal

Most of the time when I review something here, its because I think that the album or game or whatever is somehow interesting enough to warrant writing about it. In Leprous' case, not only do I think Bilateral (and their other, also excellent albums) is worth talking about but I'm trying to put into words the fact that I've been listening to Leprous consistently, every day, for the past few weeks. Sometimes just one album a day, sometimes two - they really put the hook in me, which is kind of relieving in a way as I had been worried I would never really "get" them. Man, do I get them now.

Bilateral is, at its core, a progressive album - odd instruments and sounds (Spanish horns, funny keyboards, etc.), longer songs, and strange lyrics (seriously, take a look) are all here, as you would expect. What makes this album (and all of Leprous' material, really) stand out is the way in which these genre standbys are deployed in such a competent way. Basically what it comes down to is that these guys know how to write a goddamn song, make it interesting and memorable and melodic, and still clock in under eight minutes - which is very impressive considering how easy and annoyingly commonplace it is for bands these days to write ten minute long jerk-off fests that go nowhere. But thats another topic entirely, so whatever.

Why do I think Bilateral is so strong? Because it features the concentrated effort of dedicated musicians to pull off while still incorporating maddeningly catchy hooks and choruses. Songs like "Painful Detour", "Cryptogenic Desires", "Thorn", and the title track have as many "guaranteed to stick in your head for days" moments (or more) as a standard pop act - right up there with bands like King's X and Galactic Cowboys in that area, which is a pretty damn nice change from the usual stuff. Like those aforementioned bands Leprous have a solid mix of metal and prog going on, and they go back forth between clean and harsh vocals - more heavily utilizing cleans, with the screaming serving as a nice bit of palette-cleanser throughout the album as they shift from bite-sized, straight-ahead rockers (title track, "Waste of Air"), longer, proggier tunes ("Forced Entry", "Painful Detour"), soft-ish, richly harmonized ballads ("MB. Indifferentia", "Acquired Taste"), and their own European quirkiness ("Restless", "Thorn", "Cryptogenic Desires"). Every song on this album is memorable and distinct, and new ideas come and go so quickly that it always feels fresh and slickly constructed. Bilateral is quirky without being mawkishly so, fresh without being pretentious, and immensely listenable without sacrificing complexity. An impressive and absorbing record from start to finish.

 

Revocation - Deathless

As intricately constructed as any of their previous works, Deathless sees Revocation focusing on stronger hooks and tighter songwriting than ever before, with brilliant results  

Every so often a band comes along that captures the fickle hearts of the metal community, is hoisted aloft on their flabby shoulders and is proclaimed as the new poster child of the genre, and with Deathless, Revocation seems like a group that everyone seems to like (hint: it's cause they're really good).

If you've heard a Revocation album before, you have a good frame of reference for what Deathless is all about (Skeletonwitch is acceptable substitute). Revocation's songs tend to be longer and proggier than the 'Witch's, but both bands produce material in a grab-bag style of genres including thrash, black, death, tech, prog, and more, culminating in a kind of metal melting pot that defies easy classification, although I will risk over-simplification and just call Revocation technical death-thrash for now (really rolls off the tongue, eh?).

You may have heard rumors of Deathless being "simple" or "straight ahead" compared the Bostonians' earlier efforts - and I would say those rumors are mostly true. There aren't any banjos or horn sections, and what the disc lacks in experimentation it makes up for with sheer polish and songwriting flair (plus enough sweet guitarmonies to make Tom Scholz jealous). From the title track's blues-infused guitar solo to the filthy riffage (and wrist-snap-inducing drumming) of "Scorched Earth Policy", to the instrumental "Apex" (think "YYZ" if it had been written by Kerry King) and the powerful closer "Witch Trials" and its sublime outro.

With Deathless, Revocation make it clear to everyone within earshot that even after 4 albums, that they don't plan on slowing down or phoning it in anytime soon. A truly committed outfit with a talent and work ethic that the rest of the genre could stand to learn from -- these guys are well worth your support.

Dream the Electric Sleep - Heretic

I recently stumbled onto these guys (thank you Bandcamp) and man am I glad I did. Dream the Electric Sleep is a.. um... progressive shoegaze (?) band from Kentucky that just released their 2nd album, "Heretics". Their first album came out in 2011 so they're still pretty new, and they're making some pretty cool tunes, so check them out.

So yeah, progressive shoegaze? Yeah, that probably isn't the best way to describe them, but they aren't just straight-up prog rock or full-on shoegaze -- try to imagine Steven Wilson's talent at building atmosphere, paired with a healthy dose of indie rock chutzpuh and a proclivity for trance-like compositions: think Dark Side of the Moon-era Pink Floyd with a post-rock indie tinge to it. These guys have progressed considerably as songwriters since their debut album Lost and Gone Forever. as every one of these songs have their own sonic identities that help them stand alone without standing apart.

Literally every song has its own melodic hook, similar to Haken's Aquarius where each song had one big vocal motif/idea that the song revolved around, but on a smaller scale - there aren't really any solos, and the composition of the music itself is much stronger than usual. No bullshit noodling or filler, just well-done music for the low, low price of free. Give em' a shot.

David Crosby - Croz

Richly textured and brilliantly realized, Croz sees David Crosby at the top of his game - maybe not at the peak, but damn close

This one's been cooking for a while - I remember listening to Croz last winter when it was released and enjoying mostly the same parts of it that I do now. Why it took me a whole year to write about it, I'm not sure, but here goes. One important caveat beforehand, though: I'm not really a huge David Crosby fan. I listened to If I Could Only Remember My Name once, but don't really remember any of it, and my tastes have always ran more towards Neil Young and Stephen Stills when I'm in the mood for this kind of stuff, so I'm not well qualified to compare Croz to his past work and tell you whether it holds up or not (I suspect it does, for what that's worth).

Anyway, Croz is David Crosby's first solo record in 20 years, which sounds insane before you remember that he didn't just drop off the face of the earth in '93 - he had been playing shows with CPR and the reunited CSNY off and on for the last 10 years or so, so he wasn't completely inactive. He's been around the block a few times, and Croz reflects that passage of time in a way that I can only relate to Elton John's most recent album, The Diving Board. Both discs come from bona fide superstars in their twilight years (Crosby more than John, certainly) and exude an atmosphere of slight melancholy countered by a kind of elegance earned from the accumulation of years; but whereas John is still an entertainer at heart, Crosby is unafraid to lay himself bare and soak his feelings into the music.

What's ironic about Croz, then, is how not bare the album sounds. Every track is packed with additional instruments and sounds that make songs around 3 minutes long feel double that length, and multiple listens are practically demanded by Crosby and his band's meticulous assembly work. The songs themselves aren't terribly varied -- mostly mid to slow tempo ballads, with a few foot-tappers stashed inside to keep your blood pumping. Where Croz really impresses is with the variation within that small musical map, from "Holding Onto Nothing"'s beautifully subdued trumpet solo, to James Raymond's keyboard flourishes during the closing of "The Clearing", all the way to more well-hidden elements like Mark Knopfler's fretwork on "What's Broken" all combine to form some wonderfully powerful folk rock with some of the best lyrics I've ever heard, period (seriously). I never thought that the first time I heard the phrase "Cognitive dissonance", it would be coming out of David Crosby's mouth among phrases like "Molecules go flying by" and "A slice of time/curling, peeling/back from the edge of a knife".

All that being said, Croz isn't without flaws: while the music is certainly well executed and written, it's definitely the weakest link here - some of the songs meander a bit too much for their own good, like "Slice of Time" and "Morning Calling", and even Crosby's excellent vocals can't quite pull them back out of the quicksand. The record also sounds very tight - almost too tight, so if you're a fan of more organic sounding recording techniques you might be put off by squeaky clean everyone sounds.

Those missteps can't hold Croz back from being a truly incredible record, though - just like the man that created it, the flaws are as big a part of what it is as the good parts.