How does any Converge show ever make it to tape?
There's something intangible at a Converge show that seems to drive people into a frenzy. That combination of "Concubine"--the opening jolt of the instant first riff, the kick of the rhythm section joining in and finally Jacob Bannon's banshee howl--has nearly destroyed every room I've seen it played in. It's almost like clockwork how readily Converge turns any club into chaos. Even as openers, with a semi-interested audience waiting to see Mastodon or Dethklok, Converge elicits delirium or silent awe within a few measures. One senses that they could provoke a mosh pit at the Pope's funeral.
Sometimes when I'm trying to talk people into seeing Converge with me, I tell them that it's as close as they'll ever get to seeing one of the great early hardcore bands, like Minor Threat, Black Flag or Hüsker Dü. Like their influences, there's an abundance of rage and pain in Converge's show. It's not a place where anyone should stay for too long, but it's a place where everyone needs to go sometimes. I don't know what these four massively-talented guys with DIY energy and chemistry are exorcizing when they perform, but I'm glad that someone does it.
Even so, comparing Converge to their hardcore forefathers doesn't seem sufficient. Which Our Band Could Be Your Life act ever played with the ferocity of Kurt Ballou or Ben Koller? When I get a chance to catch my breath, watching Converge reminds me of the black monolith in 2001: A Space Odyssey. Taking punk to a place where it hasn't been reoccupied by Hot Topic, where the riffs dive and soar, the lyrics hurt and the compositions shatter your ideas of what music can be. Taking metal to a place where even the Vice-reading hipsters who wouldn't even touch Iron Maiden for an ironic t-shirt can be moved. Taking its participants further than they might think they need to go, but leaving them in a better place.
Showing posts with label kurt ballou. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kurt ballou. Show all posts
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Four Good Omens for 2013
New Intronaut:
So what if The Mars Volta broke up and the new Tool got delayed again? Intronaut is making the catchiest, most addictive prog-metal in the universe, as the intoxicating rhythms of "Milk Leg" demonstrate. You'll read about this one on Pitchfork--say goodbye to one of metal's best kept secrets.
New Kvelertak:
From Motörhead to Discharge, the best-punk metal bands have a way to make the same songs sound fresh album after album. The first single from Kvelertak's newest is exactly the kind of fist-pumping slice of shoutalong thrash that you heard on Kvelertak, but producer Kurt Ballou has me hoping that this one will be even better.
New Megadeth:
Dave Mustaine may be an insufferable lunatic, but I love the way his slide guitar plays over what sounds like a banjo(!?) in this preview clip.
New Nails:
Where did these guys come from? Apparently Kurt Ballou has been producing them also, but the black metalcore riff-fest that they're calling "God's Cold Hands" in the first that I've heard of them. Can't wait to hear the rest on Abandon All Life.
So what if The Mars Volta broke up and the new Tool got delayed again? Intronaut is making the catchiest, most addictive prog-metal in the universe, as the intoxicating rhythms of "Milk Leg" demonstrate. You'll read about this one on Pitchfork--say goodbye to one of metal's best kept secrets.
New Kvelertak:
From Motörhead to Discharge, the best-punk metal bands have a way to make the same songs sound fresh album after album. The first single from Kvelertak's newest is exactly the kind of fist-pumping slice of shoutalong thrash that you heard on Kvelertak, but producer Kurt Ballou has me hoping that this one will be even better.
New Megadeth:
Dave Mustaine may be an insufferable lunatic, but I love the way his slide guitar plays over what sounds like a banjo(!?) in this preview clip.
New Nails:
Where did these guys come from? Apparently Kurt Ballou has been producing them also, but the black metalcore riff-fest that they're calling "God's Cold Hands" in the first that I've heard of them. Can't wait to hear the rest on Abandon All Life.
Friday, November 16, 2012
Converge at Highline Ballroom
Converge, Torche, and Kvelertak, of thee I sing. On arguably the year's best touring lineup, three of the best metal bands of the 21st century proved that melodic doesn't mean saccharine, punk doesn't mean sloppy and that hardcore is worth saving.
Norway's Kvelertak amass more contradictions than a week of Mitt Romney campaign promises--a hardcore sextet with three guitarists, death metal without blast beats, shoutalongs in Norwegian. Fighting off mic difficulties and a ruptured disc, singer Erlend Hjelvik riled up the crowd from center stage while the band stormed through most of their 2010 debut. The d-beat riffage of "Mjød" provoked the evening's first mosh pit, and the thrashing "Blodtørst" and "Ulvetid" could have sat next to "Ace of Spades." Kvelertak probably won't tour again until their next album is out in 2013, and they deserve a headlining tour for it.
Torche intentionally changed the pace, showcasing more of the fleshed-out, major key glories from Harmonicraft and Meanderthal than their piledriving blasts of their singles. Not that the wallop wasn't there--the deadly Bo Diddley of "Letting Go" and Siamese Dreamscape in "Kicking" set the night for a cinder block-heavy stoner-pop show, driven by the supermelodies of guitarists Steve Brooks and Andrew Elstner and the restless drumming of Rick Smith. The lovely "Snakes are Charmed" and "Across the Shields" held up not only next to brutal tracks like "Pirana," but the two bands that Torche played between.
Now in their third decade as a band they've been in since boyhood, Converge shouldn't be surprising anyone. But their new album All We Love We Leave Behind is an accentuated version of their track record to date, as math-ridden and as straightforward as anything they've put together. This week's set was heavy on the new album, with the grinding "Trespasses," mathcore freakout "Aimless Arrow" and sweat-inducing title track eliciting as verbal and physical a reaction as anything from Jane Doe or Axe to Fall.
Technical problems couldn't derail the band, who carried on with segments of "Hot for Teacher" and even "Linus and Lucy" while the Highline staff worked out the sound issues. Singer Jacob Bannon whipped around the microphone like a limb, dodging bandmates, crowd surfers and stage divers with the deftness of a professional dancer. Kurt Ballou, whom, it should be noted, also produced the best albums by Torche and Kvelertak, is as vital a guitarist that punk rock can claim. By the time the crowd was satiated with a rare encore, 1996's "The Saddest Day," it was clear that Converge are one of the only bands ever to appear both DIY and born into greatness.
Norway's Kvelertak amass more contradictions than a week of Mitt Romney campaign promises--a hardcore sextet with three guitarists, death metal without blast beats, shoutalongs in Norwegian. Fighting off mic difficulties and a ruptured disc, singer Erlend Hjelvik riled up the crowd from center stage while the band stormed through most of their 2010 debut. The d-beat riffage of "Mjød" provoked the evening's first mosh pit, and the thrashing "Blodtørst" and "Ulvetid" could have sat next to "Ace of Spades." Kvelertak probably won't tour again until their next album is out in 2013, and they deserve a headlining tour for it.
Torche intentionally changed the pace, showcasing more of the fleshed-out, major key glories from Harmonicraft and Meanderthal than their piledriving blasts of their singles. Not that the wallop wasn't there--the deadly Bo Diddley of "Letting Go" and Siamese Dreamscape in "Kicking" set the night for a cinder block-heavy stoner-pop show, driven by the supermelodies of guitarists Steve Brooks and Andrew Elstner and the restless drumming of Rick Smith. The lovely "Snakes are Charmed" and "Across the Shields" held up not only next to brutal tracks like "Pirana," but the two bands that Torche played between.
Now in their third decade as a band they've been in since boyhood, Converge shouldn't be surprising anyone. But their new album All We Love We Leave Behind is an accentuated version of their track record to date, as math-ridden and as straightforward as anything they've put together. This week's set was heavy on the new album, with the grinding "Trespasses," mathcore freakout "Aimless Arrow" and sweat-inducing title track eliciting as verbal and physical a reaction as anything from Jane Doe or Axe to Fall.
Technical problems couldn't derail the band, who carried on with segments of "Hot for Teacher" and even "Linus and Lucy" while the Highline staff worked out the sound issues. Singer Jacob Bannon whipped around the microphone like a limb, dodging bandmates, crowd surfers and stage divers with the deftness of a professional dancer. Kurt Ballou, whom, it should be noted, also produced the best albums by Torche and Kvelertak, is as vital a guitarist that punk rock can claim. By the time the crowd was satiated with a rare encore, 1996's "The Saddest Day," it was clear that Converge are one of the only bands ever to appear both DIY and born into greatness.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Song of the Day: Converge, "Plagues"
I didn't realize it at the time, but I once saw Converge open up a show with "Plagues."
They were the second act on a four-band bill, nearly buried with an evening slot. People were there to see Mastodon and Dethklok, and it sounded like many of them would be getting their first dose of Converge that night. Most of the audience kept talking while the band set up their instruments. Kurt Ballou was tuning up his guitar when Jacob Bannon tensely paced out on stage and started introducing the band. When he abruptly broke the tension with a scream, I realized that Ballou had been playing "Plagues" for the past few minutes.
It's an odd song for anyone to start a show with--slower and longer than nearly any other song that Converge has recorded, including everything on their terrific new album All We Love We Leave Behind. "Plagues" would not have been my pick as an introduction to Converge or a choice to win over Dethklok fans. But seeing "Plagues" uncaged by a recording gave me a new love for it. I can't hear it now without playing it again, or noticing how Ballou is able to seam an act like plugging a guitar into a composition. The main riff reminds me of Nick Hornby's description of a Paul Westerberg piano solo:
"A better pianist would have wrecked the moment, filled in the gaps, failed to recognize how the tune has exerted a spell over the right listener...Just as you know intuitively when the simplest and crudest brush strokes have been made by a proper artist, I can never listen to the solo without thinking that it's played by a born musician--not a virtuoso, not even someone who could make a living as a piano in a cocktail lounge, just a man who thinks and feels and loves and speaks in music."
They were the second act on a four-band bill, nearly buried with an evening slot. People were there to see Mastodon and Dethklok, and it sounded like many of them would be getting their first dose of Converge that night. Most of the audience kept talking while the band set up their instruments. Kurt Ballou was tuning up his guitar when Jacob Bannon tensely paced out on stage and started introducing the band. When he abruptly broke the tension with a scream, I realized that Ballou had been playing "Plagues" for the past few minutes.
It's an odd song for anyone to start a show with--slower and longer than nearly any other song that Converge has recorded, including everything on their terrific new album All We Love We Leave Behind. "Plagues" would not have been my pick as an introduction to Converge or a choice to win over Dethklok fans. But seeing "Plagues" uncaged by a recording gave me a new love for it. I can't hear it now without playing it again, or noticing how Ballou is able to seam an act like plugging a guitar into a composition. The main riff reminds me of Nick Hornby's description of a Paul Westerberg piano solo:
"A better pianist would have wrecked the moment, filled in the gaps, failed to recognize how the tune has exerted a spell over the right listener...Just as you know intuitively when the simplest and crudest brush strokes have been made by a proper artist, I can never listen to the solo without thinking that it's played by a born musician--not a virtuoso, not even someone who could make a living as a piano in a cocktail lounge, just a man who thinks and feels and loves and speaks in music."
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Song of the Day: PTB, "Dark Horse"
Seven albums into the peerless career, Converge released their best-yet record, Axe to Fall. The kickoff track, "Dark Horse," is a beautifully violent pit-starter, a thrashcore slice of urgency.
Not since Reign in Blood has a metal record opened so ferociously. The main riff imagines a mathier, heavier Black Flag, propelled by a galloping rhythm section. Most bands need two singers to match how Jacob Bannon sings the verses and screams the chorus. The moment where Ben Koller's drums cut out for a split second before going right into blast beats may be the most adrenalizing note on record.
Punk is almost by definition too raw and sparse to lend itself to orchestration. You won't see a String Quartet Tribute to Minor Threat available anytime soon. Yet this keyboard orchestral arrangement of "Dark Horse" has my head moving up and down repeatedly.
Someone calling himself (I assume) PTB recorded this version with a Yamaha MO8 Synth. Programmed orchestras obviously aren't as exciting as the real thing, but even through a synthesizer it's revelatory to hear how well "Dark Horse" translates to an orchestral arrangement. I like how the piano, horns and strings all take parts of Kurt Ballou's guitar line--PTB's choices work, but they also leave room to wonder how much further "Dark Horse" can be explored. Maybe classical punk isn't such a bad idea.
Not since Reign in Blood has a metal record opened so ferociously. The main riff imagines a mathier, heavier Black Flag, propelled by a galloping rhythm section. Most bands need two singers to match how Jacob Bannon sings the verses and screams the chorus. The moment where Ben Koller's drums cut out for a split second before going right into blast beats may be the most adrenalizing note on record.
Punk is almost by definition too raw and sparse to lend itself to orchestration. You won't see a String Quartet Tribute to Minor Threat available anytime soon. Yet this keyboard orchestral arrangement of "Dark Horse" has my head moving up and down repeatedly.
Someone calling himself (I assume) PTB recorded this version with a Yamaha MO8 Synth. Programmed orchestras obviously aren't as exciting as the real thing, but even through a synthesizer it's revelatory to hear how well "Dark Horse" translates to an orchestral arrangement. I like how the piano, horns and strings all take parts of Kurt Ballou's guitar line--PTB's choices work, but they also leave room to wonder how much further "Dark Horse" can be explored. Maybe classical punk isn't such a bad idea.
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