FAO#30: 16 Horsepower, The Raincoats & Teenage Fanclub

With seemingly as many new records hitting music store shelves as reissue or retrospective produce in recent times, keeping up with both streams of relentless output can be pretty damn exhausting for completionist connoisseurs with diverse tastes.  There’s simply no breather from it all anymore, particularly in this year’s post-summer release schedule surge.  Hence, the need for this column to once again excavate a few archival wares from the avalanche and wrap them up in one ostensibly tidy if unthematic bundle.

16 Horsepower – Yours Truly (Glitterhouse Records, 2CD/double-vinyl/digital)

Led by the grandson of a preacher man (David Eugene Edwards), 16 Horsepower’s dense canon – gathered through a 1992-2005 existence – has certainly been gently crying-out for a distilled anthology.  Seeped in Deep South imagery and spiritually-slanted prose, Edwards’ songs for 16HP were never easy to assimilate, particularly when channelled through his untamed tones and high-tension group delivery.  But through compiling 12 fan-chosen EP and album tracks alongside 13 b-sides/rarities – that are split respectively across two discs – with Yours Truly Germany’s Glitterhouse label has shone less intimidating new light on 16HP’s highly-spirited and bold career.

Crudely speaking, 16HP scavenged spilled seeds from the classic early-’80s line-up of The Gun Club, Nick Cave’s pre-Tender Prey gothic scene-setting and the desert-baked heavy rock of Thin White Rope, before sowing them across fields of raw blues, hillbilly country, Appalachian folk and twangy cow-punk.  With the ‘best of’ disc slanted heavily towards extracts from the band’s inaugural years – somewhat disbelievingly on major label A&M – it’s clear that 16HP peaked quickly on embryonic energy.  Hence, fledgling ‘hits’ like the biblical banjo-fired “Black Soul Choir,” the tremulous “American Wheeze,” the searing apocalyptic “For Heaven’s Sake” and the magnificent slide-driven “Haw” burn with the greatest fire and brimstone drama.  That said, extracts from the latter-years still hold merit, particularly when switching intensity for intimacy, with the atmospheric Your Funeral… My Trial-indebted “Hutterite Mile” and the aching acoustic shimmering of “Strawfoot” being particular stand-outs.  Although the second CD’s miscellaneous offcuts are perhaps only of real interest and reward to the loyal fans who helped to select tracks for the first CD, there are some nuggets to be found; such as a more rustic radio session version of “Black Soul Choir,” a murky slow-mo rebuild of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Bad Moon Rising,” a prowling twisted rewiring of Rainer Ptacek’s “De-Railed!” and less oppressive demo recordings of “Cinder Alley” and “Poor Mouth.”

Overall, this is a highly creditable collection that positively reawakens the recorded legacy of a brave and uncompromising band that might too easily have been forgotten about or lazily-filed in the Americana annals.

The Raincoats – Odyshape (We Three Records, CD/vinyl/digital)

When it comes to focussing in on the actual original recorded work of The Raincoats, historical obstacles have often proven to be a distraction.  With the band’s original albums floating in and out of print for the last 30+ years, The Raincoats’ biography is better known via references to Rough Trade’s late-‘70s/early-‘80s hippie-punk years, as a footnote in the Nirvana story due to Kurt Cobain’s smitten fandom and through the indelible direct/indirect impact on everyone from Throwing Muses and PJ Harvey to Sleater-Kinney and Scout Niblett.  Thankfully though, now that the band has apparently secured self-releasing control of its back catalogue, the core musical tale is finally being re-told more directly, albeit in piecemeal chapters.  So following on then from the 2009 reissue of the eponymous 1979 debut, out again comes possibly The Raincoats’ most obtuse yet influential long-player, Odyshape. 

Having lost the services of erstwhile Slits drummer Palmolive after the first LP, the trio of Ana da Silva (vocals/guitar), Gina Birch (vocals/bass) and Vicky Aspinall (violin/vocals) regrouped and constructed Odyshape with a string of guest drummers (including Robert Wyatt) adding percussive parts almost as afterthoughts.  This is in part explains the delightfully odd free-from and non-rock flow to Odyshape, through its ego-less instrument swapping and unrestricted genre-bending structures.  Whilst its predecessor was more emblematic of DIY punk aesthetics, Odyshape reached back to the avant-garde edges of The Velvet Underground, soaked-up the multi-cultural cross-pollination of early-‘80s West London, stretched-out with the artistic liberation that the post-punk world encouraged and sonically translated radical left-wing politics into true creative democracy.  Listening with 2011 ears, Odyshape has perhaps only gained in stature for its intrepid inventiveness and otherworldly sensuality.

That’s not to say it’s become significantly more accessible however.  In fact, still only a handful of tracks – like the gorgeously serene “Shouting Out Loud” and the reggae-goes-chamber-pop of “Dancing In My Head” stay in one place long enough to feel like borderline-conventional songs.  Predominantly, Odyshape floats, twists and curls into polyrhythmic reveries (“Baby Song” and “Go Away”) or swirls in amorphous atmospherics (“Family Treet” and “Only Loved at Night”), with shared-out untutored vocals proving to be both soothing and unsettling inside the elemental stew of sounds.  Consequently, Odyshape will still take dozens of concerted spins for the previously unfamiliarised to decide whether it’s a love or hate situation.  Crucially though, its place in history is now more assured as a landmark piece of fearless collectivist imagination that few have come close to even attempting since its original appearance.

Teenage Fanclub – Deep Fried Fanclub (Fire Records, CD/digital)

Whilst Teenage Fanclub’s regular LP canon remains readily available, it’s arguable that it only represents around half of the band’s ongoing output properly.  The Creation Records-affiliated years alone generated a fat boxset’s worth of choice non-album material; peppered with many liberating moments of less self-conscious songwriting, more intimate arrangements, greater experimentation and a bucket-load of inspired cover versions.  Whilst Sony (current custodians of the Creation catalogue) seem stoically uninterested in clearing the rich TFC closet, the resurgent Fire Records holds no aversion to dusting down the band’s early pre-Creation rarities with a repackaged repress of Deep Fried Fanclub, a compilation originally put out in 1995 to mop-up a string of primordial singles, b-sides and rarities put to tape before and around the group’s also soon-to-reappear A Catholic Education debut long-player.

Whilst the finesse, lush harmonies and three-pronged songwriting of TFC’s later records is mainly absent, the core gift for melody and intuitive fraternalism is remarkably evident even inside these naïve, innocent and fuzzy cuts.  Whilst period de rigeur affection for The Jesus & Mary Chain coats most of the 12 tracks in proto-grunge smudginess, TFC’s distinctive Scottish warmth, humour and melancholy bleeds into proceedings throughout.  Hence, first single “Everything Flows” still chugs beautifully and raggedly with California-via-Caledonia charm, as do a scrappy alternative version of “Critical Mass,” the soaring “God Knows It’s True” and the yearning “So Far Gone.” A quartet of covers reveal the group’s deep open love for The Beatles (for an irreverent boisterous but affectionate group sing-along through “The Ballad Of John & Yoko”), Neil Young (with a take on Zuma gem “Don’t Cry No Tears”), Beat Happening (with a blistering makeover of “Bad Seed”) and, of course, Alex Chilton (with a swooning squalling sprint through “Free Again”).  Elsewhere, things are a little more hit and miss, but largely charmingly so.  Thus for “Primary Education” and “Speeeder” (sic) the amps go down in volume and a drum machine splutters up like a lost Sebadoh III outtake; the wordless “Weedbreak” weaves in ugly My Bloody Valentine feedback; and “Ghetto Blaster” has a vocal-free stab at paying homage to early-Joy Division.

Whilst ultimately Deep Fried Fanclub is not quite Hatful Of Hollow, as raids of archive juvenilia go, there is far more happy nostalgic rediscovery than cringing embarrassment inside. In short, this is a worthwhile reissue for all late-arriving Teenage Fanclub archaeologists.

New Album from The Caseworker

MP3: http://www.hiddenshoal.com/promo/The_Caseworker-National_Runner.mp3
Music Video: http://youtu.be/y1RZ3ixuVLw

On their third album Letters From The Coast The Caseworker exude the feel of a shoegazing Velvet Underground reared by the Flying Nun label – the perfect balance of drone and chime. The band creates an enigmatic intimacy and atmosphere, which they wrap around immaculately crafted pop songs like smoke. Perfectly intoxicating.

With opening track and lead single ‘National Runner’, The Caseworker have an instant pop classic on their hands. The song’s consummate mix of hypnotic guitars and driving rhythm section are perfectly balanced with Conor Devlin’s starry-eyed vocal. Elsewhere, bassist Eimer Devlin assumes lead vocal duties for ‘The Slow Track’ and ‘Sea Years’, both reminiscent of prime Yo La Tengo, while standout ‘Boats’ carries the listener away on its buoyant yet melancholic waves of arpeggios and feedback. The album exudes a wonderful sense of timelessness and romanticism – these are songs to attach to memories.

Letters From The Coast was released through Hidden Shoal Recordings and distributed by n5Mailorder. The album will be available in CD and digital formats and features stunning illustrated artwork by Stuart Medley.

Brutal Truth – End Time

On first thought, a new Brutal Truth album brings anticipation and excitement, but the first listen brings indecision tinged with a bit of disappointment. Naturally, a repeat listen with isolated attention to each track comes next and the conclusion is that End Time, with its 23 song devastation, contains some of the finest and most brutal tracks to show their vitriolic faces in a long time. The impressive creativity almost hides behind the wall of crushing noise when taken as a whole.

Since their formation in 1990 and through five previous albums Brutal Truth has led the grindcore genre, but there has always been some work involved when listening to their releases. Ultimately, the albums always hit home with their vicious skill and challenging quality, but they generally needed to be taken in smaller explosive stabs rather than as a sonic whole. End Time has proved to be no different. Scrutiny reveals the quartet is still in fine form and as full of venom and aggression as ever. Some will connect with the album right away, but for those feeling overwhelmed by the massive sound are urged to try again with a more methodical approach as there are real gems within the oppression.

Close inspection shows an album of good variation, though at times belied by the shotgun intensity of each track. Following up Brutal Truth’s 2009 album Evolution Through Revolution, this release is loaded with more political and social commentary, accusations and disgust at mankind’s imminent ‘collapse’. As ever, the band hit as hard lyrically as they do musically, dripping anger and attitude in every track.

End Time immediately opens with a bombardment that lets you know this album is going to be epic. The first five tracks from “Malice” through to “Celebratory Gunfire” are immense — a varied, non-stop assault of noise and grind in a blistering adrenaline soaked attack.  The first track is like a slow grinding sickness and is well represented by its title, the groove it brings forth is both gripping and lingering. The last of the five, “Celebratory Gunfire”, is easily the album’s best track, an inspired guitar forged contortion of sound. In between the two, the frantic skilled shredding  of “Simple Math”, deadly bass line of “End Time” and the short and swift “Fuck Cancer”, add essential ingredients that make End Time a must listen.

The quartet of vocalist Kevin Sharp, guitarist Erik Burke, bassist and founder Dan Lilker and drummer Richard Hoak deliver extremes that test, manipulate and shatter the senses into a thousand pieces just as effectively as their first releases that made them figureheads of grindcore. It might just require closer inspection of each track to reveal the impressive wealth of quality within End Times.

Girls – Father, Son, Holy Ghost

The success story of a band like Girls seems improbable and yet somehow pedestrian in 2011.  The banality of the situation is obvious – two dudes united by a slacker aesthetic, recreational drugs, and a love of music actuated by said drugs dole out lo-fi stoner rock rife with both psychedelic approbations and self-deprecation.  This sort of music – which champions a scrappy willfulness for surf rock and other sun-soaked bits of 1960’s nostalgia – seems omnipresent today, particularly if you consider the good fortunes of like-minded acts such as Wavves, Best Coast, and Ariel Pink.  The critical acclaim of these bands encourages the notion that anyone within reach of an iPad and a Bandcamp account could be churning out jams of a similar bent.

Yet the universality of the situation is also precisely the reason why the ascendancy of Girls into the realm of corporate journalism and late-night TV spots is so inconceivable.  In a Google-dependent world, it’s quite a distinguished achievement for a rock band with such a prosaic name and an even more commonplace album title (See: 2009’s Album) to find itself now appearing in the pages of Rolling Stone and the studio of Late Night with Jimmy Fallon.  Yet, here we are.

Riding a surge of momentum that began with their aforementioned debut and continued through last year’s Broken Dreams Club EP, Girls’ Christopher Owens and JR White return with an expansive sophomore effort that finds the San Francisco duo using its nascent popularity to take advantage of luxurious studio accommodations.  The group’s plebian themes of unrequited love and enervated relationships still abound on Father, Son, Holy Ghost, but the wry atmospheres and nonchalant charm of Album have been replaced by more opulent arrangements and capacious song structures that sometimes take more than 6 minutes to unfurl.

One of the most immediate differences on this latest Girls offering is Owens’ voice; the mopey naivety is as strong as ever, but he seems to have replaced the nasal moan espoused on past releases with a more sultry and robust timbre.  This change makes itself known on the album’s boogying opener, “Honey Bunny,” in which Owens candidly sings to his mother about a girl who “might be right around the corner” and will tell him that “everything will be alright.”  Spunky and brisk, the track is one of many to utilize female backup singers and tremolo-affected organ harmonies.

“Die” is a slice of classic rock heaven, a largely instrumental track boasting thunderous drum fills and a killer guitar riff that could’ve very well been copped from either a Cream or Deep Purple record.  It’s an unhinged jam session that also includes urgent warnings of impending demise from Owens.

The album’s middle section yields the record’s most comprehensive songwriting.  The wispy frailty of “My Ma” goes deeper than rock and roll, echoing the blues with overwrought sentimentality (“Oh God / I’m tired / and my heart is broken”) and simple yet deeply affecting guitar melodies.  “Vomit” expounds on this concept, employing extreme dynamic contrasts, cathartic soloing, and a dirge-like tempo to exemplify the struggles of a deeply sullied man looking to claw his way out of the darkness (“Nights I spend alone / I spend alone looking for you, baby”).  “Just a Song” might be Girls’ most unorthodox move to date, replete with Spanish classical guitar, gossamer flute motifs, and a cyclical mantra (“Love / love / love / it’s just a song”).

At nearly 8 minutes though, it’s “Forgiveness” that stands out as Holy Ghost’s choicest track.  Framed by the sedate strums of an acoustic guitar and an unobtrusive drumbeat, the song reminds us that “nothing’s gonna get any better / if you don’t have a little hope / if you don’t have a little love / in your soul.”  It takes nearly 7 minutes for things to reach their emotional apex, as the rest of the band finally comes crashing in and then delays resolution further until Owens exclaims “I can hear so much music / and I can see everything now.”

Even the less adventurous tunes still please, if for no other reason than the primal joy of listening to a band performing meticulously crafted rock music.  “Saying I Love You” seems like it could’ve been a lost Tom Petty cut, all strummy guitar work and jangling textures.  “Magic” also seems indebted to 1970’s AOR, channeling the amiable pop playfulness of Fleetwood Mac or the Eagles.  Only in the homestretch do things stall slightly; “Love, Like a River” comes off as derivative pop convention after such a transcendent sequence of knockout tracks, and closer “Jamie Marie” fails to match the hypnotic resplendence of its Album companion number, “Lauren Marie.”

The dichotomy exemplified by Girls’ newfound notoriety is a topic unto itself, one that should probably be left to the pop music junkies who will assemble this decade’s VH1 retrospective in another 15 years or so.  Until that time arrives, we’ll have to confront a more obvious truth – the allure of Girls is completely palpable, if not irresistible.  Maybe it was the double entendre implied above that first got them noticed, but hopefully it’ll be Girls’ simple paeans to the human emotional rollercoaster that earn them a spot in 21^st century pop music history.

Circa – And So On

Supergroups are nothing new in progressive rock—there’s Transatlantic, ELP, Asia, Liquid Tension Experiment, The Tangent, and OSI (just to name a few). While a project consisting of several artists from several different bands is an exciting prospect, there is always the risk that the music will sound too similar to the members’ main bands. With its third release, And So On, Circa suffers from this exact problem; however, the music is still quite impressive and memorable.

Circa was formed in 2006 by four musicians who’ve each been associated with Yes: drummer Alan White, keyboardist Tony Kaye, bassist Billy Sherwood, and guitarist Jimmy Haun. Throughout the last half decade, the line-up has gone through several changes, and on And So On, Sherwood and Kaye still lead the charge (while White and Haun have been replaced by Scott Connor and Johnny Bruhns, respectively). Genre fans will likely find that while the album is full of masterful melodies and magnificent musicianship, but overall, there is a feeling of too much familiarity and run-of-the-mill timbres.

The title track opens the album with rich harmonies, and within seconds, one can sense a very Yes presence. In fact, if not for the fact that Sherwood’s voice is a bit edgier and lower than Jon Anderson’s, you’d swear it was the classic Fragile line-up. Every sound and style feels welcome and recognizable; however, it also feels like Circa is playing things a little too safely.

“Cast Away” inarguably features one of the album’s most haunting melodies, while “Notorious” is probably the most radio friendly and accessible. “Half Way Home” features some nice interplay between keyboard and guitar, and the poignant simplicity of “In My Sky” definitely leaves an impact on the listener. The signature odd rhythms of The Flower Kings seem to be an inspiration on “True Progress,” and of course, the lengthy closing track, “Life’s Offering,” packs a varied punch.

And So On is highly enjoyable as long as you know what to expect. The music alternates between complicated and calm, the melodies are pleasant, and the vocals are distinctive and cool. However, Circa is simply resting comfortably within an established sound; there really aren’t any innovations or surprises to be had. Fans of the genre will undoubtedly enjoy the record, but they will also realize that they’ve already heard everything Circa has to offer.

Five-track EP from Silver Wren out now

“Crystalline (Expensive Looks Remix)”: http://bantermm.com/tracks/SilverWren-Crystalline-ExpensiveLooksRemix.mp3

Silver Wren is the psych-folk project of Ross Campbell (age 20). He currently lives in Gainesville, Florida where he is pursuing a degree in International Studies at UF.

Campbell’s musical experience is eclectic. During his high school years in Tampa he played electric-guitar for the hip-hop artist Anonymous as well as bass for the costumed metal-funk band Suggestion. All the while he composed psychedelic-grunge under the name Somelsewhere and drew influences from the melodic, fit song-writing of Sufjan Stevens and the visual soundscapes of Animal Collective.

The five-tracks on the EP speak for the indecisive, developing sound of Silver Wren. It is an infusion of acoustic and electronic instrumentation to create something that is ambiguous; sprawling in-between genres to resolve in simple melodies.

Album from Helluvah in September

As we move silently, HELLUVAH ‘s second album will be available for download on September 21 and physically released on September 26.

Video: http://vimeo.com/26860067

Official Site: http://www.helluvah.com/

New Album from Collide end of September

… the count down is on!!!

Our new  CD,  Counting to Zero  is scheduled to drop on Sept. 27th .

Here is a track list to whet your appetites:

1. Bending & Floating
2. Lucky 13
3. Mind Games
4. In the
Frequency
5. Clearer
6. Counting to Zero
7. Human
8. Tears Like
Rain
9. Further From Anything
10. Slow Down
11. Letting go

http://www.collide.net/news/

The Duke Spirit – Bruiser

Formed in 2003, The Duke Spirit have lurked near unseen or heard at the edges of my own personal music knowledge, a band whose name I recognise but one that, until last week, I could have told anyone very little about. A band whose name I’ve seen in the music press, in other writers’ reviews or in festival listings. It’s often the way. Semi-pro rock scribes such as myself often only really get to hear what’s in front of them, the albums and tracks that arrive in the CD promo parcels and downloads and which inevitably take up what time I put aside for actually writing, overriding other bands and their music simply because their releases went to other writers. I’ve got The Duke Spirit now though, and it’s almost fate that they’ve chosen to reveal themselves to me with what is their best work to date, and also one of the most remarkable albums of this year.

Part of the mid 00s UK wave of New Guitar bands that also gave Arctic Monkeys, Franz Ferdinand and Razorlight to the world, The Duke Spirit almost seem survivors of a now bygone era, of a time when rattling telecasters and London accented sneering filled the new music airwaves, when bands less well remembered today such as the Pigeon Detectives and 22-20s were running TV ad campaigns for their music. Five and more years on from the heights of that particular moment in music history, The Duke Spirit present us with an album that’s both a well crafted tribute of sorts to those times, and an assured and really quite masterfully performed song collection that carries with it an air of actual timelessness.

“Cherry Tree” kicks in with growling bass, biting guitar and the first of what are a remarkable sequence of vocal performances from frontwoman Leila Moss, her voice at one moment brazen and defiant, the next sultry and teasing, a voice that brings as much depth and soulful energy to the bands more subdued moments as it does to the full-on histrionics of “Procession” and the noirish torch ballad that is “Villain”. Some finely measured keyboard brings resonance to The Duke Spirits tightly scored instrumentation, with Luke Ford’s guitar possessing every nuance of the songs. “Don’t Wait” is the one song that, on a first listen, would make anyone hearing the band for the first time take notice. Referencing both BRMC and The Kills in its structure, it’s a melodramatic ballad of near bewildering intensities and Leila Moss’s vocal is very well served by a tempestuous lyric : ‘you drugged my will with a smile/ who gave permission to drive me this wild?’ isn’t exactly a question.

Toby Butler’s driving bass riff propels “Surrender” forward, a near breathtaking display of powerpunk thermodynamics that’s one real highlight on an album that at no point contains anything less than completely inspired songwriting and musicianship. “De Luxe” is a hypnotically sinister lullaby, the phrased delicacy of its verses colliding with its verging on anthemic chorus, building into a staccato fuzzguitar conclusion. ‘Sweet Bitter Sweet’ has a bluesy tone about it, with Leila Moss’s vocal somehow recalling Hope Sandoval and the band turning in an alley cat 12 bar performance worthy of the Bad Seeds, with Olly Betts drumming pushing the song very nearly past its limits. “Everybody’s Under Your Spell” is just mesmeric, guitar grind and clicking percussion that turns into a searing burst of powerhouse garage excess. There’s a sense of occasion, of an impending event of significant magnitude around everything The Duke Spirit do on Bruiser. Only a band as experienced and committed to what they’re playing can really sustain this across a full album, and “Northbound” perhaps is that actual event, a swaying, savage number that flirts with folk rock then dashes itself into raw, fractalised pieces. Finally, “Homecoming” doesn’t quite end Bruiser on the low-key note The Duke Spirit might’ve intended, they’ve far too much adrenaline coursing through their amps to bring matters to a full conclusion, and as the songs final chords reverberate and fade I am, along with anyone else who hears Bruiser and is even half as impressed as I am by it, howling incoherently for more.

I really feel as if I owe The Duke Spirit a very obeisant and prolonged apology. Bruiser, after all, is their third album, and I feel somewhat selfconsciously ignorant about having never properly heard them until now. Perhaps it’s just fate again though, bringing a band such as this to my attentions when they are at the absolute peak of their abilities, and with an album that is a very real, bona fide, unalloyed 240 carat work of rock n roll artistry. Had our paths only crossed sooner …

www.thedukespirit.com

Hemoptysis – Misanthropic Slaughter

From the first coaxing riffs in the opening seconds of the title track on Misanthropic Slaughter, the debut album from US metalers Hemoptysis, one is engaged with an album that ripples with well written, intelligent, and appetising metal sounds that will delight any palate. Throbbing riffs, firmly grabbing rhythms, and intriguing directional variations permeate each track, ensuring the fullest attention and satisfaction. Misanthropic Slaughter is not only the best thrash album this year but fights for the accolade of being the best of the decade. Although the music within goes far beyond just a thrash sound – there is the combination of the very best elements of heavy metal, death and black metal to create an intelligent, vibrant and thoroughly inspiring metal album.

The band’s previous EP Who Needs A Sheppard? garnered much critical acclaim and not surprisingly Misanthropic Slaughter has received a similar, if not stronger response. The album is a masterpiece of incessant metal intensity and though it is not the hardest onslaught heard this year it is certainly one of the most powerful. The first thing one notices is that this is not a one dimensional type thrash effort as there are varied essences from all types of metal which the band infuses into its sound. It’s a veritable feast of creativity! This quartet from Phoenix, Arizona deliver these variations with the utmost skill.

There is not one weak track across the album, a testament to the impressive song writing and musicianship. Led by the decisive drums of Travis Thune, each track is strongly framed allowing the other members to bring their creativity into play. Bassist Sunao Arai adds lines that throb, pulse and resonate throughout bringing hearty power to the likes of the impressive “Hopeless” and “Shadow Of Death” whilst the twin guitar attack of Masaki Murashita and Ryan Miller venture into bold and confident avenues that forge each song with a unique identity. Murashita brings grisly, vitriolic vocals that give a death metal taint to the proceedings – a contrast which complements the music perfectly.

Though each track has equal impressive parity, there are some moments that give extra pleasure such as the Metallica spiced opening to “Impending Doom”, the excitedly eager solos that cruise in “M.O.D.”, and the unremitting riff and drum intensity of “The Cycle”.

Produced by Grammy Award winning producer Ryan Greene (Megadeth, Authority Zero, NOFX), the album has a crisp and clean sound that is natural and not over polished. The band clearly was allowed the freedom to bring an organic feel to the music. Misanthropic Slaughter is one of the year’s great pleasures and it can only be a matter of time before Hemoptysis is on the lips of most metal fans.

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