Andrew Danso

The red line between being messy by nature and the mess being purposeful couldn’t be wider. The Rabbits press notes indicate an instinctive carelessness. Aligning them with a dirt-rock individualism, placed on top of a reckless production, which exists to flaunt their ‘musical nous’, pushing out the grains of muddy low end distortion and lost subby percussive undercurrent. It’s all quite untrue. Sure, they sound bonkers, raw and unhinged, but every inch of this record has been schematically planned, chock-full of direction, barriered into one stylistic genre. They say punk; we say lo-fi, sludgy doom.

Musically, Lower Forms is a fairly intense experience, that’s far more extreme than ‘dirt-rock punk’ lets on; far more dark and edgy, than careless and messy. Throughout its length, there is little melody involved, with a downtuned assault placed on emphasis, rumbling along like a hornet of tanks crossing a bailey bridge. Passages nod toward the dirt-rock revival spin, albeit very briefly and when The Rabbits decide to add a coherency to their sound (which means slowing down a little) it rubs off weightless and dull, lacking an impact the grumbling had. The Rabbits can crawl, get on all fours, and run. They can’t walk, and when they try, thankfully the leash is often right around the corner.

7/10 Powerplay issue #130

Tuning out after two minutes into the album is something to be said for short attention span, but you can relate the same antsy demeanour to Symbolic, as they simply whiz from riff A, to B, to C, to D, and so on. It’s really very difficult to keep up, as in short bursts, the tracks alone feel incredibly overbearing on the ear. More importantly Scarvest completely sidesteps on the point of melodic metal, in that there’s simply not a hook or familiar tone you can latch onto, since so much goes off at once. It’s a shame, because while the hooks are certainly present the German quartet never choose to stick with them, opting to rampage workmanly through a bottomless spiral of riffing, before gasping for air at the finishing line. There’s an ignorance for melody, song writing and key change which contrastingly opens up on the overly zealous detail for how many notes one can play at once on their instrument, or the cyclical difference in time signature. Who honestly longs for number crunching? Detail has always been in the heart – and Scarvest has none of it.

4/10 Powerplay issue #130

What Doesn’t Kill Us does what it says on the tin, (it certainly doesn’t kill you) it pops, thwacks its head around and screams “it’s OK!” at the end. Throughout the duration it lives by its inspirations, sticking rigidly by the tried and tested New Found Glory and Blink 182 formulas. The commercial appeal should come in spades for Call Of The Search, as everything is pulled off extremely well, something that their peers would congruently nod in approval with, but more importantly the end result is an irresistible release for any fans specific to the genre.

For everyone else, it’s difficult to care, because it simply sticks inside that commercial bubble, replicating the big guns with zero of ones own personality present along with no statements forged in an identity. Usually bands which walk the tight rope with their inspirations keeping them in balance, sound like cover bands, albeit dressed under a different title. This one should be no different.

6/10 Powerplay #130

There’s a deft amount of craft present on Stand Up and Nerve. It toys with the idea of imitating their pioneers straight off the bat, but throughout its length this Swedish death metal mock-up ooze personality, standing rightfully on their own two feet, playing a brand of DM that’s strong enough to paint themselves into their own corner. There’s a colourful mix of their own ideas coupled alongside the old Scandinavian template, which not only gives the album an individual flavour, but displays a youthful ambition, a kind of brazenness, with a self conscious pretense throughout. There’s no afterthought of intelligence throughout its length either. It constantly asks the listener to keep up, as the progressive changes are ever-present, chopping and changing in clear vision, that’s effective and really keeps you hot on your toes.

A not so generic experience even if first impressions wavered; this is brutal enough for angry teens, intelligent enough for the grown ups amongst us.

7/10 Powerplay issue #130

Drowned In Flames, ambition blighted, attempt to mesh together an odd coupling of Alice In Chains, and Deftones on their debut EP. Ambitious in a sense that rekindling such acts is a burden of huge proportion; blighted on a mere reflection that it’s just not done very well. Moreover, not only do you need vast elements of craftsmanship to write in the same vein as Alice In Chains, you need a production that goes hand in hand with a project as fuzzy and seismic as the old grungers. It’s obvious DIF don’t have that resource, and in context they’ve had to resort to Studio B generic sound, which doesn’t give credence to a small EP based on a big idea. Musically, the entire release rubs of a little muddled. It feels like a demo, waiting to be sliced up and experimented with, as toying with the warmth of AIC beside an extremity highlights a raw idea, with little direction.

5/10 Powerplay issue #130

Reflections is another debut which lacks a lasting impact because of its unoriginality, and more precisely, its lack of ability to open another door in a proggy landscape. It mulls around Paradise Lost, Katatonia, and Green Carnation, toward the point of simply lifting their hero’s favourite track sections and cutting them side by side. In another light, Twilight’s Embrace are technically excellent. They flaunt an instrumental nous, weighty production, and confident songsmithing to knit their progressive batch together – but it’s these very talents which leave you wanting more. Heaps and heaps of promise, and a few kinks to iron out.

6/10 Powerplay issue #130

Bloodiest’s Descent takes the form of a progressive, artrock journey, attempting to create soundscapes enveloped in a cinematic nature, to hard chuggy metal. They’re a seven piece based in Chicago, that illicitly use all sorts of quasi layering with the guitars and keys to make up the perceived scape. Perceived because most of the time you can only hear two guitars, drums, some keys and a reverberated vocal on playback, which is a complete mishap for a band earthed in the idea of atmosphere. It relies on what’s going on within its meandering background, and if that’s not present – which it isn’t – then the entire wall of sound whimsically crumbles, or ceases to exist. It renders the record a moot flat.

Musically Bloodiest is incredibly artistic and portentous. It fleets quietly and usually ends up crashing and banging, with the occasional amount of metallic edge. This is an album which dances and dances and dances around the point, and when they get there, it’s unfortunately difficult to give a hoot.

6/10 Powerplay issue #130