Andrew Danso

Though their music may say otherwise, The Birthday Massacre aren’t coy by any stretch of the imagination. While it’s easy to rule out what the band create as balderdash, as a collective they are smart enough to recognise a demand, which justifies their own means when it comes to an output – a very cynical one indeed (you can’t honestly believe that they enjoy making this guff). Imaginary Monsters is the follow up EP to Pins and Needles, flaunting a handful of new tunes as well as a couple of remixes for fans to sink their teeth into.

Like most follow ups, the material on here is reactionary; a collection of demos that would otherwise be kept under wraps, should the previous album perform poorly in the market. Surprisingly, some of the material here merits a great deal more patience than that of Pins and Needles, with the remixes giving a different flavour by way of moodiness and rhythmical power, which was never unearthed in the textures of the heavy synth’d originals.

Yet, it all washes off quite easily. With Pins and Needles being the EPs source of life, this is a band now standing still, squeezing every penny out of a contemptuous following who rule their parent’s moneybags. Imaginary Monsters is a release made for a fan base, endorsed in the colour of cynicism. Worse, it’s played by a bunch of musicians, who appear to only speak one language, through their chosen instrument.

4/10 Powerplay issue #138

With today’s records becoming more and more complex, it’s not surprising to see heads being turned to the more stripped down voyeurisms of instrumental rock – without doubt a trend has been developed. The fad surely soon to die out (as soon as this well fed audience find something else pretentious enough to hang their coats on). But phenomena it might be; musically it’s easy to disregard as tasteless, and stale, but artistically, it’s as rich as ever, with challenging concepts for fans to mull over and newcomers to enjoy the rhythmic simplicity.

Russian Circles aren’t much different to most post-rock instrumentalism; they’re content on building an atmosphere with whatever instruments they have (which on playback doesn’t make for a huge production at all, being a trio), and clamour on riff after riff, with the occasional loop splattered on top of the chaos.

Stylistically, they’re a clever bunch. Often living within the sludge akin to Celtic Frost, they climax to speeds as bold as Tool, and jam out within spacey lulls, littered in ambient guitar effects, with the occasional percussive boom. Better yet, in their meticulous structure, the undercooked production on the album makes the band feel spontaneous, as if they’re making the racket in the room right next to you. It all makes up for a concrete (and first) full-length, if unremarkable.

7/10 Powerplay issue #138

Shield Your Eyes shoot themselves in the foot. So wrapped in their disharmony and discontent, when they decide to put their minds to structure and tune, they tend to produce moments of magic. Mellow numbers Glad and Crowd work excellently, because they have simple explanations, but more importantly they have the inner workings of heart, and tangibility, something that the listener can really touch, and get their hands dirty with. Alternatively, the more hectic, math-orientated material rubs off as something incoherently predictable. It precisely washes into nothing, despite its crashing, whacking and scientific zaniness. A more indie approach to Dillinger Escape Plan, Shield Your Eyes are difficult to understand, but encroach a sense of arrogant appreciation and misplaced pomposity through their mathematic romance.

It’s easy to be churlish in a discourse about the math genre, and there are a few tricks Shield Your Eyes pull throughout playback. Their production is clever, by way of spontaneity – it’s all been taped in a hotel room, which gives the band a vintage gradient to mix into their hyper modern vibe. The tunes themselves recall bluesy and American licks, which contrast radiantly with the menacing nature of the tracks. Another is the precision of the albums pacing, which batters you to begin with, but fleets into dreaminess and idle, before plundering manically down the spiral.

6/10 Powerplay issue #138

It’s very rare that we come to enjoy acts who aren’t academic by their own standards. Often it takes reassessment through each album before one sticks within public domain, and should it be the case with Taste Of Tears, they haven’t got much to learn despite Once Human being their full-length debut.

The album flows in melodic metal, with progressive flights and complex rhythm work sketchfully plotted throughout its length. This is certainly a frayed effort, feeling like ones reckless rush of blood at work, instead of the balance in adrenaline and thought - it is a cry for a producer, a hierarchy, to reign in a lot of the whimsy impulse on show, and make do with whatever edits need to be made.

Potential is what Once Human carries in abundance. Usually debuts never avoid the rough around the core, and getting a feel for an act is just as important as what’s heard sonically on the disc. In this quartets case, there’s something very amiable about their enthusiasm and wealth of ideas, which sets up an album based on a strong set of fundamentals, and powerful spirit.

6/10 Powerplay issue #138