Carl Begai

Second-tier hair rockers Keel pretty much fizzled out after their self-titled fourth album from 1987, not even the sign-of-the-times high rotation ‘Somebody’s Waiting’ video and a Bon Jovi support tour able to muster a “Hell Yeah!” from folks outside the band’s loyal fanbase. Frontman Ron Keel and guitarist Marc Ferrari have been kicking around ever since, there have been understated returns to Keel territory (Larger Than Live in ’89 and and Keel VI in ‘98), but Streets Of Rock N’ Roll is the band’s first real noteworthy sign of life in over two decades. Playing on the fact the band struck their loudest chord with second album The Right To Rock, the new outing is dubbed a 25th Anniversary comeback but only hints at the old days beyond the classic line-up minus one. Diehard fans can forget hearing Ronnie’s trademark ‘Speed Demon’ howl, and all traces of reverb-pumped ‘You Think You’re Tough’-era Ratt metal have been traded in for a straightforward simmer-to-boil-and-back rawk direction. Not a bad thing if you’re willing to go in with an open mind.
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For the record, I was one of those people that bitched and screamed and wondered what the hell Blaze Bayley had done to my Iron Maiden when he stepped in to replace Bruce Dickinson in 1995. Never mind that Steve Harris had slammed head first into a writer’s block and couldn’t pen his way out of a paper bag at the time; as the new pipes in the Church Of Ed the unfortunate Bayley took the lion’s share of abuse for The X-Factor and Virtual XI. The fact he’d torn up some decent stretches of road in fine fashion with Wolfsbane prior to his tenure didn’t help matters. His firing from Maiden in ’98 was a blessing in more ways than one, however, because from my first time through his Blaze debut Silicon Messiah in 2000 Bayley came off as a talented, driven and even charismatic vocalist. The very last thing his detractors had expected. He’s held the course for the past decade, through five “solo” albums and a swamp of professional and personal issues, leading him to put out the finest work of his career thus far on Promise And Terror.
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As if in response to all the New Wave Of Wannabe Soilwork Death Metal bands that spent most of the last decade running amok, educated old school no-nonsense rock ‘n’ roll has resurfaced in recent years to an unexpected degree. Never mind the (warranted) Chickenfoot hype and the fact that Airbourne are allowed to exist in spite of being an illegitimate beer swilling bastard cousin of the AC/DC franchise right down to the Australian postal code. Quality acts The New Black, David Chastain’s Southern Gentlemen and new-era Sinner have earned themselves some well deserved mileage by keeping things simple, concerned far more with having fun with the music rather than bludgeoning folks into submission with their oh-so-righteous aggression. Add the bare-bones DareDevil Squadron to this growing list, an act that has learned their Thin Lizzy and Iron Maiden lessons well to the point that they see nothing whacked about combining the two. (continue reading…)

It’s probably considered bad form to use the term “wow” to describe a what is essentially a doom metal album but… well… wow. Not since Theatre Tragedy’s first two albums – which aren’t nearly as gothic as folks like to think – has a gloom laden record dug its hooks in this deep and dragged me in so completely. A lush and epic soundtrack to personal demise, Woods 4 features frontman / founder David Gold twisting things in unexpected fashion, having exchanged the black metal-inspired vibe of Woods III: Deepest Roots And Darkest Blues for a oft-times slower, brazenly progressive and ultimately heavier album. Very Devin Townsend of him in fact, as Gold continues his own tradition of not playing to expectation. Lines can be drawn to Candlemass and Solitude Aeturnus in particular, and the Theatre Of Tragedy comparison holds merit in that one doesn’t have to be a fan of the deep and dark to get into Woods IV. The band has concocted a record that blurs the “doom” line without disrespecting the required genre dynamics as outlined by the purists. Some will bitch of course, but I’m currently looking into patenting can-openers for the mind.
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As I Lay Dying girlie man Tim Lambesis’ shred-happy Ode To Arnold continues, picking up where Austrian Death Machine’s 2007 debut Total Brutal left off. More of the same out-of-control Suicidal Tendencies mile-a-minute Slipknot skate punk glorifying Mr. Schwarzenegger’s cinematic career, all tied together by grin-worthy between-song banter provided by Josh Robert Thompson. Call it the thrash version of a Conan O’Brien skit gone mad guaranteed to muscle the funnybone of anyone with a background in Arnie, bottom line being you can’t in all fairness carve on something done in the interest of having a bit of fun with the noise. And Lambesis is having a riot. Lead track ‘I Need Your Boots, Your Clothes, And Your Motorcycle’ is one of the ADM’s strongest songs to date, showing off his head for dynamics within the mayhem (he writes, sings and plays almost everything except for the solos), something that has been improved upon since the debut. ‘Who Told You You Could Eat My Cookies?’ sits at the other end of the spectrum, all piss and vinegar and Machine Head-ness. Fave tracks of the moment, however, are the Pumping Iron tribute ‘It’s Simple, If It Jiggles It’s Fat’, the Mr. Freeze-inspired ‘Allow Me To Break The Ice’, and ‘Conan, What Is Best In Life?’, which closes the first disc with the finesse of a truck kissing a brick wall.
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Launched two years before his return Loudness in 2001, vocalist Minoru Niihara’s XYZ-A is his hammer-and-nails outlet for material not exactly suited for Akira Takasaki and the boys. Known for a sound that flirts generously with classic Deep Purple and UFO while keeping things on the metal side, XYZ-A has rebounded from two consecutive uninspired records (I.V. and Wings) with an album very similar to their stellar second outing, Metalization (2001). Lead-off song ‘Z To A’ and the title track, ‘Learn From Yesterday! Live For Today! Hope For Tomorrow!’, are signature up-tempo scorchers in the spirit of the band’s previous album opening crowd pleasers ‘Labyrinth’ and ‘Miracle’, drummer Funky Sueyoshi leading the charge with his Alex Van Halen skinbashing and guitarist Fumihiko Kitsutaka laying down his much needed pissed off Michael Schenker shred. (continue reading…)

Twenty years in the making, Karma is the follow-up to Winger’s cock rock out-of-nowhere classic self-titled debut. It took a major wrong turn (synthetic second album In The Heart Of The Young), the resulting heaps of MTV abuse (Beavis & Butthead), the grunge era, and a directionless comeback album in 2007 (IV) to get the band back to what they did best. Simple yet ballsy, Karma is one of those records where fans don’t have to dig for adjectives to convince themselves it doesn’t suck. It helps that expectations were nil going in beyond hearing a sappy ballad or two, but no one predicted a stripped down rock-the-metal record. Guitar riffs dominate thanks to Reb Beach not having to fight his way through a cluttered mix, starting things off at a run with ‘Deal With The Devil’ and ‘Stone Cold Killer’ falling somewhere between Winger’s Pull record, and Danko Jones’ highest octane moments. (continue reading…)

Rammstein’s latest platter of tongue-in-cheek violence, Liebe Is Für Alle Da (translated: Love Is For Everyone), proves that so long as you have a singer that should be in theatre and a killer producer it’s possible to write the same songs over and over again and still be successful. The band continues along their tried and true crunching industrial demolition path, relying on their traditional “big, bigger, biggest, Rammstein” execution to grab you by the throat and drag you in. Indeed it does, with an iron fist. First three songs ‘Rammlied’, ‘Ich Tu Dir Weh’ (I’ll Hurt You’) and ‘Waidmanns Heil’ (’Hunter’s Salute’) are predictable Rammstein anthems that succeed through larger-than-life production / engineering; nothing mindblowing but mean and intense when listened at a proper unhealthy volume. Fourth track in, however, things start to become twisted. ‘Haifisch’ (‘Shark’) sounds like it was yanked off a mid-‘80s Depeche Mode album for kids, followed by the eyebrow-raisingly brutal ‘B********’ complete with a death-vocal chorus courtesy of frontman Til Lindemann. And with each trip through the record it become increasingly apparent that this is Lindemann’s show. As heard-it-all-before as the music may seem at times, he’s able to give each song serious depth, dark or humourous or up-yours brazen. Make no mistake, unlike 10 years ago the man can sing. (continue reading…)

The Great Canadian Curveball is back. Not a reference to Townsend’s neatly shaped skull, rather a tribute to his ability to change gears from album to album without losing his fanbase or footing as one of metal’s / music’s most original contributors. Addicted is part 2 of Townsend’s four part musical journey through all things Dev, picking up the pace considerably from the quietly brilliant Ki album from a few months back. Hatemongers need not apply, however, as Addicted is the big dumb rock record the man warned us about. On top of that, it’s a good spirited big dumb rock record celebrating the stomping foot and banging head and singing-for-the-hell-of-it voice. Lots of heavy crunch, no splatter, and far from weak. (continue reading…)

It’s a strange day in hell when a band bridges the gap between Dimmu Borgir and Voivod. Ana Kefr’s debut succeeds in doing just that; a vicious stand-alone conceptual piece featuring an uncompromising and ultimately unique sound in spite of the comparisons drawn. The Death Cult Armageddon vibe over top an instantly recognizable Voivod thrash and clatter is a shock to the system as lead-off track ‘The Day That Guilt Turned White’ gathers momentum, to the point that one wonders if Shagrath and Away were conscripted for the recordings. Dynamics reign, however, as Ana Kefr churn out what is quite possibly one of the most captivating listening experiences of the year, never remaining in one place too long yet smart enough to keep things simple and to the point. (continue reading…)