Nightfell - The Living Ever Mourn LP

Back in 2012 I was lucky enough to catch Aldebaran play a couple of times on their European tour with Noothgrush, and also to finally witness the impassioned fury of a Tragedy show. Both bands put out incredible albums that year, in Embracing The Lightless Depths and Darker Days Ahead respectively. Extrapolating the directions each album took, with Tragedy eschewing D-beat entirely in favour of a lower, slower approach, and Aldebaran taking their already abyssal sounds to even murkier depths, it's actually not that hard to see how Nightfell came to exist.

Even so, when master of mastering Brad Boatright first mentioned a project brewing between Aldebaran's Tim Call and Tragedy's Todd Burdette, I responded with some glib comment along the lines of "Funeral d-beat, eh? I'm in!". When many months later The Living Ever Mourn was released, any preconceptions I may have had were utterly obliterated by these 8 tracks of terror.

Despite the disparity between each member's other bands, this album is neither simply slow crust punk or fast funeral doom, taking its musical cues from neither doom the genre, nor Doom the band. What it does do is channel the mournful qualities and aggressive atmosphere present in all of Burdette and Call's previous output into something wholly unique, allowing each of them to operate outside the constraints of their other bands. The result is an album that is almost deliberately difficult to classify.

Opening track 'The Last Disease' begins with chiming guitars, before being joined by some downright bombastic drumwork from Call. When they settle into step, the riff is immediately recognisable as one of Burdette's; no-one else manages to infuse that much sadness into their anger, and express it through six strings and amplification. The double-kick rhythm and UGH-ed vocals set this apart as being a far more metal proposition than his usual work, but the synth interlude that leads into 'I Am Decay' doesn't allow things to settle into one particular mould. The track features everything from frenetic drums to funereal string bends, and since it never drops down to the extended torture of doom tempos or gears up to deliver sharp jabs of punk, the overall effect is more of an incessant pummeling.

'Empty Prayers' pushes the boundaries even further out, with Burdette's layered singing (yep, singing) giving the track an elegiac choral atmosphere. The sparse acoustic guitars that enter the fray from around the halfway point are even more unexpected, though they are but a momentary respite from the overwhelming hopelessness before a gigantic fuck-off pickslide and cacophonous clatter bring everything crashing back in.

The blackened buzzsaw tone of 'The Hollowing' is another total departure, demonstrating that if nothing else there's certainly something here for everyone, no matter what your preferred strain of metal. It never feels like they're stretching themselves thin, each track has such an individual identity, yet still feels part of a cohesive whole. Y'know, the way an album should do?

The next interlude is the seemingly obligatory 'move to Portland, start playing neo-folk' moment, but it's thankfully soon brushed aside by the hulking riffage of 'Altars To Wrath'. This is the only song on the album that I could actually picture coming from the players involved, so effectively does it combine their typical styles. The track becomes increasingly Frost-ian as it goes on, perfectly demonstrating just how influential Tom G Warrior's troupe were on every single fractured facet of metal.

Closing with 'Funeral Dirge', a galloping, triumphant number that belies its title, once again the cohesion of these eight seperate parts of a whole is reinforced. When the track fades out with martial drums and howling winds, I immediately want to play through the whole thing again, there are so many stand-out moments just begging to be heard. The Living Ever Mourn is a rare beast in modern times; not merely a collection of songs, but a fully-realised album.

You can still get a copy of this slab of excellence from Parasitic Records.

Nightfell on Bandcamp | Facebook 

This review originall appeared over at Echoes & Dust...

Noothgrush / Coffins split LP

This review originally appeared on Echoes And Dust.

When I caught both Noothgrush and Coffins at the inaugural Heavy Days In Doom Town fest in Copenhagen last year, I almost couldn't believe what I was witnessing. Given that Oakland's Noothgrush had been split up for more than a decade, and that Tokyo's Coffins were from, well, Tokyo, I felt especially lucky just to have gotten the chance to see each of them. I never thought it would happen. That both bands completely decimated the crowd with their respective sets was tantamount to their sheer crushing weight; the power of the riff is constrained by neither time nor distance.

When I got talking to Noothgrush guitarist Russ Kent a few days later before their show in Hamburg, he mentioned that Uchino from Coffins had suggested the idea of both bands embarking on a Japanese tour together.

That was 18 months ago, and only now are both that tour and the resultant split record happening. I guess taking things agonisingly slow isn't something that only applies to their music.

Noothgrush don't fuck around on their side, their first track 'Humandemic' immediately capturing the sound of Sabbath's Paranoid record, with Russ' SG-through-a-Laney tone complimenting Chiyo Nukaga's trademark gigantic cymbal crashes perfectly. So well do they emulate the doomed vibe of their musical forefathers, that when Dino Sommese (you know, of Dystopia, Asunder, Ghoul, every other fucking band) spews his bile-scorched vocals over everything, it almost seems like a shame to pollute the pure '70s atmosphere. That is until you remember that this is the return of Noothgrush, one of the most disgusting, and disgusted, sludge bands to have been dragged into existence in the '90s. They were just as angry about the era they were living in then, and Dino's hateful howl reminds you that rage has not dimmed one iota; this is miserable music for miserable times.

Their second contribution to the record is a re-recording of their classic track 'Jundland Wastes', which has been floating around in various recorded forms ever since their 1995 Kashyyyk demo. The quality of this recording, even the clarity of the sample playing throughout the intro, is sure to cement this as the definitive version. The mid-track lull allows Gary Niederhoff's malevolently crawling bass to detach from the main riff for a couple of bars, before everything coalesces again and the band drag themselves through the eponymous wastes towards the end of the track. Never mind Tusken Raiders; Noothgrush are the scariest thing to ever inhabit the deserts of Tattooine.

They close out their side with the 9-minute 'Thoth', a tribute to beloved Bay Area DJ Cy Thoth, who passed away this year. Beginning with looped samples of Thoth himself before Chiyo's drums herald the arrival of a monstrous riff, it's classic Noothgrush, even down to Russ' full-fretboard pickscrapes.

The track meanders madly, with further samples of Cy Thoth thrown in throughout, Dino's absolutely ferocious vocals providing sharp contrast to his spoken word psychedelic ramblings.

When the track, and Noothgrush's side, ends with a recording of a laughing Thoth warning everyone to "watch out for cannibal attacks! Everyone is suspect!", it's clear even to those unaware of his work that he was a true original who will be much missed by his community. Thankfully, the heavy music community can welcome one of it's own true originals back to the fold.

It's good to have you back, Noothgrush.

I'll admit it, compared to new Noothgrush material, anything else was going to pale in comparison, but thankfully they share this split with one of my favourite bands of recent years. Given that Coffins have actually covered Noothgrush in the past, on their excellent tribute EP Sewage Sludgecore Treatment, they know exactly how much grime they need to apply to their already putrid death-doom. The first track of their side, 'Drown In Revelation', is able to match the other side for both filth and fury.

Slowly fading in, the ominous approach of the drums soon joined by prowling bass, while the feedback builds and builds, until with an "UGH!" they launch into one of those deadly riffs that Uchino seems to have an endless supply of in his arsenal. Given that this is something like their eighth release in just the last couple of years, they manage to maintain a ridiculously high quality level with all their recordings, with their recent full-length The Fleshland already being one of my favourite releases this year. Around two-thirds of the way through the track, the band kick things up a gear into full-on death-doom mode, the lurching, stuttering riff backed up with punishing double-kick drums, before slowing everything down to a doomed crawl. When they return to that monstrous main riff again, if you're not in full-on headbanging-and-invisible-oranges mode, there's something wrong with you.

'The Wretched Path' continues in that same vile vein, with the influence of Celtic Frost clearly heard in the faster passages of this track. I never though I'd say this, but this track near enough fucking bounces along at points, it's so uptempo. However, don't mistake that for upbeat, I'm sure that whatever Uchino is growling here, the words themselves are foul enough to offset any remotely 'good time' vibe.

I may be biased as I have been eagerly awaiting the release of this record ever since I learned that it might one day become even a possibility, but the half hour of misanthropic sludge and deadly doom on offer across both sides of this LP confirm that it's one of the heaviest releases to be unleashed this year. Ignore at your peril, and prepare to abandon all hope.

You can stream, and buy both digital and vinyl versions of this split via Southern Lord.

Noothgrush - Erode The Person

As I lower the needle on this record, the world outside my window is chaos.

My little corner of the world is being blasted by winds of up to 130mph (apparently), rivers have burst their banks, the roads are paved with black ice, trees creak, snap, and are uprooted, windows of high-rise buildings shatter and rain glass on the idiotic few who have ventured out in this harsh night.
I have been stuck inside a shell of a factory with no heating for hours, waiting until I can hitch a ride back to my hometown with anyone going even near that direction.
Today has not been a good day.

Arriving home to find the repress of Noothgrush's 'Erode The Person' LP lurking behind my storm doors wasn't so much a pleasant surprise as a fucking necessity. A soundtrack to the foulest of moods on the foulest of days.

 

So it was with actual NEED to hear something other than a howling gale that I cranked up the volume, collapsed on my floor and let the opening squalls of feedback fill the room.

The feedback lasts mere seconds before Chiyo Nukaga's tumbling, tribal, one-woman-drum-circle kicks in, accompanied by a woozy riff for a couple of bars before the whole thing falls apart with a howl.
Things slow to a neanderthal stomp, the track crashing along haphazardly, held together by one of the most corrosive tones I've heard. It lumbers, the strings bend, tempos shift, and bassist/vocalist Gary rages against "the closed mind of my species".
The tempo lurches up and down, before settling into a doomy plod towards the finish line. The feedback rises and consumes the whole thing once again.

"People are scared, angry, hostile, hate everything, don't know what they hate, don't have anybody else to talk to... just angry, desperate!"

So begins the second track, the 9-minute slog 'Deterioration'. It goes from that sample into one of the doomiest marches I've heard in a while, all spaced-out strings and battered cymbals.

There's enough space in the music to focus on the words, reading along with the lyric sheet as I go, something I NEVER do. Matching these words to this song makes for just about one of the biggest downers you can experience outside of chemical narcotic experimentation.
About halfway through the riff switches up to something a little more light-hearted. Relatively speaking, of course. Oh, spoke too soon, it crashes out into a hungover series of droning, aching picked-out notes.
The last third of the song is almost cheery, with lyrics concerning the extinction of the species as it stands, and 'a rise of altruism and compassion [...] what we know as human will be dead and a superior species will thrive'. Probably the most positive lyrics ever spewed from the gaping maw of doom.

The final track of side A is a Pink Floyd cover. I fucking hate Pink Floyd. I'll give it a shot anyway.
The guitar tone is fuzzed-up and nasty, so it already surpasses anything I've ever heard by the most over-rated band in the world.
This cover is an exercise in minimalism, the drums hitting sparsely but hard, the strings stretching out their contribution to breaking point. I dig this, but it's still never gonna make me reconsider my opinion about the band being covered.

Side B claws it's way out of my speakers with a wretched scrrrape of a song, 'Oil Removed'. Fucking foul. That's a good thing, incase it wasn't obvious. At a running time of three-n-a-half minutes, it's probably the most accessible thing on the whole record. But that's a purely relative term, obviously, it's still a rotting corpse at a beauty pageant compared to other songs of this made-for-radio length.

Final and title track, Erode The Person, is a low and slow beast. Over a minute passes before the other instruments join the bowel-shuddering bass. It's a torturous ten-minute slab of self-loathing, hateful noise, and it's just what I needed to hear tonight. No sarcasm, it really is.
With just a couple of minutes to go, the song momentarily races for the finish line with a downright little boogie of a riff before exhausting itself into an out-of-breath finale.

I mentioned before that I rarely pay attention to the lyrics of most bands operating within the sludge idiom, but this band actually has great mini-essays accompanying each track. These songs, the words, they actual MEAN something. If I knew more about existentialism, environmentalism, gender politics, and the examination of the self in relation to the environment it inhabits, I'd be able to pinpoint their references, but as it stands I'm a fucking philistine, so all I can do is appreciate the themes and words as they are presented here.
This is sludge to get your neurons firing.

I normally don't write this bullshit with the intent to recommend releases, I don't review records so much as simply document my own thoughts on them, giving me a chance to really think about what I'm hearing, but I can wholeheartedly recommend this album. If you're a fan of heavy music with something to say (even if you have to decipher the inhuman screeches with the aid of the record insert), please get a hold of this album as it was originally intended.

I picked this disgusting little beauty up from Portland, Oregon's PARASITIC RECORDS. The guy who runs it was super fast in getting back to me about buying this, and the delivery was fast as fuck too, so support this excellent label/distro by either picking this up, or checking out what else they've got for your listening displeasure.
http://parasiticrecords.blogspot.com/

There aren't many places to hear the almighty Noothgrush online, but they are experiencing something of a resurgence at the moment, with reissues coming out on various labels, a collection of radio sessions or something out on Southern Lord, and an appearance scheduled for next year's Maryland Death Fest.

Now if only they'd get confirmed for Roadburn...