In the spirit of 2008, here's to a paramount moment in political metal.
Black Sabbath--'War Pigs'
Ever the metal prototypes, Black Sabbath were also the first metal band to make a significant political metal song. Alarmingly heavy for a song recorded in 1970, 'War Pigs' was considered so shocking upon its release that Black Sabbath's record label, fearing protests from pro-war audiences, refused to let the band them name their album after it.
Black Sabbath really outdid themselves on 'War Pigs,' which featured Tony Iommi's finest guitarwork and Ozzy Osbourne's greatest singing to date. The melodic, minor-scale intro is featured over the eerie sound of sirens, and it all gives way to some mighty Sabbath riffing and Ozzy wailing.
"Generals gathered in their masses/Just like witches at black masses," goes the famous opening line, which sounds so cool that people ignore how pathetic the attempted rhyme is. But the song really picks up on the chorus:
"Politicians hide themselves away They only started the war Why should they go out to fight? They leave that role to the poor"
"Time will tell on their power minds Making war just for fun Treating people just like pawns in chess Wait 'til their judgment day comes, yeah!"
Working-class Ozzy certainly identified with the idea of the poor being sent to do the bigwigs' dirty work, and his distrust of authority and sense of anti-establishment ran much deeper than San Francisco hippies singing about flowers. His "Wait 'til their judgment day comes" warning, like Bob Dylan's 'Masters of War,' turns religion against the right to a terrific effect, and he couples his political mindset with metal's classic horror imagery (invented by Black Sabbath, of course) in the final verse. Ozzy belts it out:
"Day of judgment, god is calling On their knees, the war pigs crawling Begging mercy for their sins Satan, laughing, spreads his wings"
'War Pigs' was so ahead of its time, it took nearly 20 years for people to realize what a great idea it was to confront the bad guys over what my Dad calls "yeller music." When Faith No More covered 'War Pigs' in in 1989, Black Sabbath was considered fairly passé, but the song has since been covered by the Dresden Dolls, Cypress Hill, the Flaming Lips, Gov't Mule, and many others. When Ozzy and/or Black Sabbath perform the song nowadays, they show images of our current president on the concert screen, and I've been hard-pressed to attend an anti-war rally that doesn't have someone blarring 'War Pigs' out of a boom box.
Metal music is many things, but 'containable' is not one of them. Attempting to generalize or boil down such a colorful, complicated, and still very much alive art form is fruitless, and there's no better proof of that than the holiday-season releases of some heavy metal box sets.
Rhino's four-CD Heavy Metal box tries to throw a little bit of everything in there, from hard rock to NWOBHM to thrash to hair metal, and Earache's Metal: A Headbanger's Companion includes six CDs labeled 'Death Metal,' 'Grindcore,' 'Metal/Rock,' 'Industrial,' 'Punk/Hardcore,' and 'Leftfield.' Neither of these boxes contain any of the same bands, and their attempts to be all-encompassing are thwarted by the diversity of headbanging music. Hell, the past few years' box set anthologies of Black Sabbath, Slayer, Motörhead, and Megadeth can't encapsulate what's great about any of those individual bands. How could any box set summarize metal history, particularly when the word 'metal' is defined in the loosest sense?
With that thought out of the way, take a look at Rhino's box set. Already I can hear the complaints that there's no Ozzy (with or without Sabbath), Van Halen, Mötley Crüe, Guns N' Roses, or AC/DC, but anyone who remotely cares about loud music will already own everything that they need from those guys. Other metalheads will complain that embarrassments like Yngwie Malmsteen, Cinderella and Faster Pussycat get as much disc time as Slayer or Alice Cooper, but it'd be best to remember that great metal music never candy-coats anything, let alone its own history. In a genre where the most significant artists bluntly address the dark side of many issues, confront serious political dilemmas, or make their most gut-wrenching moments available in a movie about their therapy sessions, it'd be foolish to expect a documentation of metal history not to include 'Talk Dirty to Me.' While the box contains several cringe-worthy moments, they're all metal moments, and thankfully you won't find any thinly-disguised pop, such as any of Def Leppard's top ten hits or anything credited to Desmond Child.
Starting things off with all three minutes that you need from Iron Butterfly (out of their 17:10 of fame), disc 1 captures some of the greatest hard rock and proto-metal moments in history. A pre-Neil Peart Rush contributes 'Working Man,' Donovan's (?!) greatest achievement is recognized on his backup vocals for Alice Cooper's 'Billion Dollar Babies,' and Hawkind's remaining members are probably fuming that one of their only songs to feature Lemmy on vocals ('Lost Johnny') is the one picked for box set canonization. Girlschool prove that their greatness went beyond their well-known Motörhead collaboration on the positively smokin' 'Demolition Boys,' and probably the single-best songs by Ted Nugent, KISS, and Blue Öyster Cult get proper representation. It's also a blast to find out that 'Kickstart My Heart' was ripped off from Montrose's 'Bad Motor Scooter,' as it is to discover that bands like Uriah Heep and UFO really were good. Of course, the sound of budding icons like Iron Maiden, Judas Priest and Ronnie James Dio finding their respective metal voices is as exciting as watching a trailer for the new Batman movie.
Disc 2 kicks off on the incredibly high note of Motörhead's 'Ace of Spades,' and the CD holds up pretty well by following with Diamond Head's 'Am I Evil,' which is not quite as good as the Metallica cover that made it famous, and Rose Tattoo's 'Nice Boys,' which is, very shockingly, better than Guns N' Roses cover that made it famous. There are definitely a few missteps (Y & T, seriously?), and W.A.S.P. aren't nearly as exciting as the PMRC would have you believe. But some of metal's best goofy moments are captured, such as Saxon's spectacularly over the top 'Denim and Leather' (sample lyric: "Denim...and leather--brought us all together! It was you that set the spirit free!") or Mercyful Fate's 'Black Funeral.' Iron Maiden and Judas Priest are represented at their creative peaks, and 'Witching Hour' by Venom still packs a stronger punch than almost all the black metal imitators that it spawned. It's enough to make any metalhead giddy, and a truly inspired choice comes in ending the disc with Metallica's 'Whiplash,' a headbanging tribute from the band's underground era. Predating Metallica's more challenging material, 'Whiplash' lyrically recalls older metal ("We'll never stop, we'll never quit, 'cuz we're Metallica!") but musically rocks with a speed and intensity that was previously unheard of in rock music. It's so great that you'll be reaching for disc 3 if you haven't already pushed the start button on your CD player again.
However, the 3rd disc is where it all goes to hell. The disastrous state of popular modern rock is almost enough to make one nostalgic for hair metal, but awful tracks by Hanoi Rocks and Accept will crush any cravings that you had for that era. Of course it's not all bad; Twisted Sister's 'I Wanna Rock' rules even without the video with Neidermeyer from Animal House, and 'Rock You Like a Hurricane' is still the only good song that the Scorpions ever recorded. Coinciding with Kevin DuBrow's obituaries (R.I.P.) is Quiet Riot's Who-aping 'Metal Health,' a surprisingly good anthem that's far more enjoyable than 'Cum on Feel the Noize.' Also, I'd be lying if I said that I didn't catch myself enjoying 'Round and Round' by Ratt or Krokus' 'Midnight Maniac.' Spinal Tap's 'Big Bottom' is much classier and wittier than most of these songs, if not as catchy, and Nigel Tufnel is also given tribute on the box set's packaging. Designed to look like a Marshall amp, the box comes with a movable volume knob. Guess how high it goes...
Thrash metal is so prevalent today that it's easy to forget just how shocking and inventive it was upon it's inception. But at the end of the box set's prominent hair metal disc, Anthrax's 'Caught in a Mosh' and Megadeth's 'Peace Sells' sound like they've landed from another planet. Music critics tend to give grunge all the credit for bringing rawness and reality back into mainstream rock, but the bands showcased on on the box set had as much to do with the alternative nation, and look no further than Overkill, Testament, and the big four of thrash for proof. Disc 4 contains the last gasps of hair metal, including a pair of overlong tracks from Whitesnake and Great White, and Lita Ford's 'Kiss Me Deadly,' which is never as good as I hope it will be.
After 'Kiss Me Deadly,' the fourth disc really brings it home. King Diamond and Manowar show that metal didn't lose it's campiness with the arrival of thrash, and the one/two of Slayer's 'South of Heaven' and Metallica's 'One' captures two of the greatest rock bands ever changing the course of American music. The set abruptly ends in the early'90s, before the prevalence of stoner rock, math metal, black metal, death metal, alternative metal, doom metal, power metal, or nü metal, but the potency of songs like Pantera's 'Cowboys from Hell' and Prong's 'Beg to Differ' suggest that metal is in great hands, still evolving, and as powerful and as relevant as ever by the time that the box is over. Sepultura's fantastic 'Dead Embryonic Cells,' which closes the set, resembles little that precedes it and still doesn't grasp the heights that Sepultura went on to reach. Metal has grinded the ax for a long for a long time, withstanding all sorts of fads and turmoil, and proof that metal will continue to thrive is found on the Heavy Metal box.
To the uninitiated, there are many great metal records that are perfect starting places for exploring the genre. But this is a box for dedicated metal fans, like the ones described in those songs by Manowar. It's bitchin' to finally hear those obscure artists that Scott Ian swore by, and hearing these songs in their historical context is a revelation. There's no metalhead who won't learn anything from this box, and no music lover who won't find something to rock out to.
Poor Job for a Cowboy. Metalheads prepared for JFAC's full-length debut, Genesis, by enduring a slew of hype that the second coming of Pantera wouldn't be able to live up to. Thanks in large part to two of the least-metal things in existence, the music press and Myspace, JFAC sold over 13,000 copies of Genesis the week that it came out. Those numbers are almost unheard of for a death metal band, especially on their first album, and since then it's been up to the band to show that they're not the metal equivalent of the Arctic Monkeys. Or worse, Dane Cook.
Job for a Cowboy recently tried to prove their worth on this year's 'Radio Rebellion' tour, which wrapped up November 18 at the Irving Plaza. The self-consciously anti-mainstream name of the tour speaks for itself; if your band is really so rebellious, you shouldn't have to tell everyone, and besides, death metal itself is already anti-mainstream by definition. As if the tour name weren't enough, JFAC co-headlined with Behemoth, established underground metal stars who haven't seen nearly the success of JFAC in a much longer career. Paired with openers Beneath the Massacre and Gojira, four very different metal bands rocked their respective asses off to win approval from the excited and somewhat skeptical crowd.
After a solid but forgettable set from Canada's Beneath the Massacre, Gojira established themselves as the stars of the evening. Their fanbase has grown considerably since they scored the opening slot for Lamb of God earlier this year, and their blend of progressive and thrash metal has earned them heaps of acclaim, as well as collaborations with Max Cavalera and the American release of their earlier albums. Easily the most versatile and musically accomplished band on the bill, Gojira pulled no punches on conceptual metal tracks 'Ocean Planet' and 'Backbone,' bringing a strong sense of melody to their storming technical metal. With their most recent album, From Mars to Sirius, becoming 2007's word-of-mouth metal success, these guys may be on the verge of a Mastodon-esque breakthrough. I bet that Job for a Cowboy are jealous.
So how were Job for a Cowboy? There's no denying that their music is authentic--this is death metal, warts and all, with enough attitude and no songs that sounded like they were aiming for KROQ. But that's where it ends--there's nothing that distinguishes them from the dime-a-dozen jokers that crowd up the Sounds of the Underground lineup and the Ozzfest second stage. They're competent performers, not particularly catchy or aggressive, and unable to leave a lasting impression. The most memorable aspect of their show was the band's jarring tendency to gob and snotrocket, which seemed like overcompensation (look at how dirty we are!). They're not bad at all, and they could potentially make some good records. Very, very few rock bands put out their best music right at the start of their career. But JFAC's current place in music is that of a death metal Matisyahu--capable, legit, but nowhere near being anything special or living up to the hype. The crowd was clearly aware of this, listening attentively and clapping politely between songs, but obviously saving their energy for Gojira and Behemoth.
Of the increasingly few corpse-paint wearing, costume-wearing death metal bands in the world, Behemoth are the one that could pass for Emperor doing their best imitation of a KISS show. Since black & death metal bands are often laughable in equal measure with how seriously they take themselves (Varg Vikernes' quotes in Lords of Chaos come to mind), it worked in Behemoth's favor that they were willing to be so goofy onstage. Had a stone-faced death metal frontman smashed a guitar or torn up an enormous bible onstage, he would have seemed childish, but Behemoth's Nergal carried himself such a great sense of humor that the most tired death metal tactics worked for him. For a power trio, Behemoth creates quite a din, and a small KISS influence can also be found in their music, which is often catchier than their peers' and just as extreme. The songs from their most recent albums, this year's The Apostasy and their breakthrough Demigod, suggested that they are as strong now as they've ever been, and I'd recommend their show to any metal fan. Recent efforts to have Behemoth banned from performing in their hometown of Poland became all the more laughable in light of Nergal's stage banter, which took on standard metal nemeses like Christianity and 'the man' in a tone that was always more poking fun at than outright attacking.
"Say fuck yeah!" Nergal bellowed, raising his fist. Fuck yeah!
Probably the best thing about the holiday season is that once again, it's time for everyone's year-end top-ten lists. So here it is--support these awesome artists and give your friends (or yourself) the gift of rock.
The ten best records that I heard in 2007, in alphabetical order:
The past few years have not been kind to Dillinger Escape Plan. Since the release of the magnificent, skull-pounding Miss Machine in 2004, the band has suffered through a busload of lineup changes and tour cancellations, mostly stemming from health problems. Nerve damage forced guitarist Brian Benoit to quit the band, and founding guitarist Ben Weinman suffered a rotator cuff injury which pulled Dillinger off of 2005's Gigantour. In late 2007, Weinman and drummer Chris Pennie were the only two original members left in the band, but the past few months have seen Pennie quitting to join emo-prog wankers Coheed & Cambria and Weinman breaking his foot and canceling a tour. Somehow, along the way, Dillinger Escape Plan made one hell of a great album, Ire Works.
Ire Works is not going to win back the fans who were annoyed by the relatively melodic moments on their last album, 2004's Miss Machine. As brutal as Miss Machine was (Rolling Stone panned it as being 'too heavy'), it alienated some listeners who craved the sonic assault of their debut, Calculating Infinity. That monster of an album approached the G.G. Allin standard of a record declaring war on the listener. But for a band with an already very established past, Dillinger Escape Plan are showing no sign of turning back. Ire Works takes Dillinger to a new level of brutality while also stretching their melodic sensibilities further than anyone had any right to believe they could go, making it not just their most accomplished and impressive album to date, but quite possibly the year's best. Musically, it's in the same league as the newest by Nine Inch Nails, High on Fire, Grinderman, and Radiohead, but none of those bands have outdone themselves to the extent that Dillinger have.
Opening tracks 'Fix Your Face' and 'Lurch' are classic Dillinger noise barrages, and their no holds barred assault is the fastest opening to ever grace a Dillinger record. "You want a fiction you can't have," bellows charismatic screamer Greg Puciato, and while he's probably screaming about some girl, he could easily be talking about the noise-metal enthusiasts who'd prefer than DEP not grow as a band. It's moments like those two songs that accentuate the almost poppy verses on the slithering, syncopated 'Black Bubblegum,' which discloses Dillinger's edgy pop sensibilities. Like Ween, Dillinger Escape Plan seem weirdest when they're at their most accessible--the listeners can't believe their own ears and are left wondering if the band is about to pull the rug out from under them. With tracks like 'Bubblegum' and the 2-minute epic 'Sick on Sunday,' the latter of which couples Ministry and Aphex Twin influences with a falsetto-heavy second half, Dillinger have proven that they can flirt with accessibility without losing any of their bite.
Most bands that toss off minute-long interludes are wasting CD space, but there is not a wasted moment on Ire Works, from the hiccuping 'When Acting as a Wave' to the Penderecki-resembling strings on 'When Acting as a Particle.' Perhaps Dillinger are proving to Pennie, who was responsible for similarly short tracks on Miss Machine, that they can get along fine without him, but whatever the case may be, Dillinger work wonders in preserving the art of the album, throwing out twists and turns that make for an enthralling ride. It is also to their credit that they made the rare metal album that gets better as it goes along. The horn section that Dillinger enlists on 'Milk Lizard' not only doesn't suck, it gives flavor to what may be their most hard-rock sounding and maybe their best song to date. Lest one think that Dillinger were making their Black Album, 'Milk Lizard' is bookended by the eardrum-drilling 'Party Smasher' and '82588,' the latter of which takes it's title from the release date of ...And Justice for All. In the next 20 years, some band is going to name a song '111307'--I'd bet on it.
But Dillinger really proves their mettle (metal?) on the last three songs. 'Dead as History' recalls prime Nine Inch Nails, and would have been a solid way to end the album, but raging 'Horse Hunter' manages to upstage even that, thanks in part to a guest spot from Mastodon's Brent Hinds. But there's no way to prepare for how the absolutely fantastic 'Mouths of Ghosts' closes the album. After a beautifully sparse beginning, it works into a piano-led buildup that gives new drummer Gil Sharone a chance to shine on percussion before roaring into an epic of Zeppelin-esque proportions. 'You were a mouth without a heart, an action without meaning,' belts out Puciato near the songs climax, 'And you walk afraid.' While the last chord rings out, the listener gets a chance to regain their senses--drained, awed, and jonesing for a lot more.
One of my favorite writers, Amy Dupcak, wrote a first-rate review of Ire Works--check that out here...
Earlier this year, I reviewed Decapitated's performance at Summer Slaughter. "Decapitated tore through a frantic, monster-riffed show that ensured their status as one of the most exciting metal bands in the world, and the most brutal Polish import since Andrew Golota," I wrote, and that doesn't start to do justice to how great the show was. (For a better sense, pick up their most recent album, Organic Hallucinosis, one of the best of 2006). What I didn't mention was that I had the honor of meeting the guys before the show outside the venue, and they were as friendly and gracious as any gawking fan like myself could hope--truly standup guys. I ended my piece on them by mentioning that Decapitated "promised to return to New York soon, with Amon Amarth. I'm there." From here, I can see my Amon Amarth tickets resting on my bookshelf.
It looks like NYC will be treated to only one Decapitated show this year, as drummer Witold "Vitek" Kieltyka has passed away. A few days ago, Decapitated were in a devastating bus accident in Russia, in which both Vitek and singer Adrian "Covan" Kowanek received serious head injuries. This morning, it was officially announced that Vitek has died. He was 23.
Vitek was a drum prodigy who started playing death metal with Decapitated in 1996, at the age of 12. As a drummer, he went far beyond the call of duty of keeping the band's timing. His fluid double-bass action and head-spinning fills were at the forefront of the band's greatness, and live he made his extreme technical skill seem effortless. It's hard to imagine a bunch of metal warriors like Decapitated not persevering in the face of such a tragedy, but it's even harder to believe that they'll ever have such a talent as Vitek behind the kit for them.
This is probably the saddest day in metal history since the death of Dimebag Darrell. Best thoughts are with the band and their families right now. Rest in peace, Vitek.
Between the Buried and Me are a progressive metal band from North Carolina that been receiving a good amount of attention lately for their versatile, well-crafted fourth album, Colors. As one would hope for in any band that recently covered Sepultura, Queen, Blind Melon, Depeche Mode, and Mötley Crüe all on the same album, Colors is a diverse, creative record that stretches the band further than they've ever gone before. After seeing their Halloween-night show this year at the Blender Theater, I'm convinced that Between the Buried and Me are one of the best metal bands to emerge in the past few years, and that Colors is in the running for this year's top ten. Not bad for a band with such an unfortunately screamo-sounding name (allegedly derived from a Counting Crows song?).
As they've been doing on this tour, BTBAM played Colors in its entirety at the Blender Theater, front to back. While that deprives their show of some spontaneity, the album itself is so surprising and enjoyable that it was great to hear the whole way through. If their were ever a time for BTBAM to focus on one record for their entire show, now is the time. The album's oddly melodic beginning, 'Foam Born (a) The Backtrack,' almost resembles mid-'90s Weezer, and the way that the keyboard intro and harmonized vocals broke into thrash metal aggression live felt completely natural. Sort of like if System of a Down were louder and indulged themselves more. Or a metal version of Man Man.
Like most modern American metal bands, BTBAM's metal is pretty non-melodic, but they are able to convey their strong sense of melody in the non-metal movements in their compositions. Sounding like kids who didn't forget the '90s-rock radio that they grew up on until they discovered Pantera, BTBAM spliced their throbbing, death-grunt metal with all sorts of catchy, melodic progressions that could easily have been hit songs had they been further developed. Instead, the band uses these interludes to make their own songs distinct and unpredictable, keeping listeners on their feet by infiltrating Mr. Bungle-esque solfege into 'Sun of Nothing' or elements of Tool into 'Informal Gluttony.'
For all the left-turns that Between the Buried and Me throw into their music, it always feels natural, and the music is never slowed down by all the changes. Most bands that interject a few melodic measures into their metal songs only cause distraction and impede the buildup of their compositions, and it appears that they're only changing the tone and the time signatures for show. But for BTBAM it never felt forced, and they blended an array of styles with seemingly little difficulty. Keyboardist/vocalist Tommy Rogers is foremost impressive for making keyboard metal that doesn't sound super-lame, but he was also able to death grunt and harmonize when either was appropriate. Guitarist Paul Waggoner, the band's other founding member, evoked monstrous heaviness and elegant sparseness whenever necessary.
By the way, the entire band was dressed in full farmer's outfits, complete with overalls and straw hats. Whether that was a statement about their geographic roots or just Halloween fun was never elaborated on, but the stunt was particularly suited for the country-hoedown interlude in 'Ants of the Sky.' Sounding a bit like '5-Piece Chicken Dinner' off of Paul's Boutique, the jam was accompanied by a guy in a cop suit who danced out onstage with his prosthetic junk hanging out of his short shorts, a la Johnny Knoxville's old guy skits in Jackass. Trick or treat...
'Ants of the Sky flowed seamlessly into the absolutely stupendous 'Prequel to the Sequel,' and it wasn't long before Between the Buried and Me ended their set with the 15-minute album closer and centerpiece, 'White Walls,' an anthology of twists and turns that was as perfect a grande finale as one could hope for. However, they encored with 'Selkies: The Endless Obsession,' a standout from their previous album, Alaska. In hindsight, the song's soaring keyboard intro stands as a clear sign of the mastery that was to come on Colors. At the rate that they're improving, the next one just may be a masterpiece.
Next year, BTBAM are embarking on a US Tour with Opeth and Dream Theater--I dare say, Between the Buried and Me are the main reason to go.
Of the openers, Metal Blade metalcore heroes Animosity were by far the best, grating Nintendo-metal clowns HORSE the Band were by far the worst, and the trancey, Isis-on-quaaludes wallowers that opened the show were as forgettable as their name.
