Back when vinyl was king, it was common for bands to release 12” EPs featuring exclusive material to tide fans over while waiting for the artist’s next full length album. More often than not this material was top notch stuff rather than the uninspired cut / paste filler “bonus tracks” that often get tacked onto the end of present day releases. That said, it’s something of a pity that vocalist Sarah Jezebel Deva’s new Malediction EP is a digital-only affair, because the three songs featured reflect that era; quality music created in the interest of giving the fans something special.

Malediction is short, sweet, and to the bloody point, boasting material as good as if not better than that featured on Sarah’s previous solo outing, The Corruption Of Mercy. Lead track ‘Lies Define Us’ is a gorgeous and memorable hook-laden piece standing head and shoulders above typical goth metal fluff, featuring Soilwork frontman Björn “Speed” Strid singing clean harmonies against Sarah’s leads and clocking in under four minutes for maximum impact. In contrast, ‘When “It” Catches Up With You’ is about the Sarah Jezebel Deva band as a whole rather than being a vocal showcase, officially smacking Angtoria off its pedestal as being the strongest band-oriented work Ms. Deva has ever done thanks to riff-heavy guitars, monster drums, with everyone involved getting a chance to shine.

The icing on the cake, however – or the thorn in the eye as he’d probably dub it himself – is Cradle Of Filth frontman Dani trading lead vocals with his former backing singer on ‘This Is My Curse’. And it’s a performance guaranteed to please any fan of the Nyphetamine and Thornography albums. He could have faked his way through it and phones in a flat-headed performance, but backed by a canvas of blastbeats and black metal attitude, Little Lord Filth sings, grunts, whispers, shrieks, moans and screams his way through the track at his theatrical best. No question, COF fans will be impressed. Sarah, meanwhile, leads the charge with the sort of performance that would and should have been welcome on a Cradle Of Filth record.

It’s also worth noting that in a twisted act of fate, former Cradle Of Filth keyboardist / composer Martin Powell agreed to come on board and add his talents to Malediction. He gives the EP just the right amount of symphonics, proving that less is indeed more when compared to the majority of present day orchestral metal car crashes currently on the go.

Here’s hoping initial sales numbers will be strong enough for Listenable Records to consider printing a limited run of Malediction on vinyl, or at least on CD (in other words, BUY it, don’t steal it). It’s much too good to be restricted to the digital ether.

- ‘This Is My Curse’ is available for streaming courtesy of Dominion Magazine here.

Watch for an in-depth interview with Sarah, coming soon. We discuss the new EP and Sarah’s bandmates, Björn Strid’s and Dani Filth’s contributions to the EP, life after Cradle Of Filth, and luring Martin Powell into the Malediction production with the promise of a bar of soap.

Sarah Jezebel Deva

Björn “Speed” Strid

Dan Abela

Dani Filth

Call it a safe bet that a fair number of progressive metal fans feel slighted by having two giants of the genre – vocalist Russell Allen (Symphony X) and Mike Portnoy (ex-Dream Theater) – slamming down ton of bricks modern-edged metal with nary a 5/8 time signature or widdly keyboard flourish in sight. Nope, this is feelgood freight train mayhem minus the seatbelts done up old school, with the dynamic prog duo and guitarist Mike Orlando relying on musicality rather than gutteral aggression and the same old boring-ass downtuned chords to get their message across. Allen is a monster right out of the gate, his melodic bellow on lead-off tracks ‘Undaunted’ and ‘Psychosane’ laying the groundwork for some of the strongest material of his career (and wiping those damn Allen/Lande albums from memory). Orlando was either schooled in Stuck Mojo, or the band’s guitarist Rich Ward – who was in Adrenaline Mob for about 5 minutes – made a lasting impression on his songwriting. When it comes down to the groove crunch, and there’s plenty of it, Orlando’s shred is also an echo of Zakk Wylde, giving folks a welcome taste of Black Label Society. With Portnoy providing the backbone for the Allen/Orlando-penned tunes, it shouldn’t be a surprise that Adrenaline Mob’s overall sound is far and away from your average balls-out 4/4 metal band.

It’s interesting to note that for all the pounding and punishment served up on Omertá, tracks like ‘Indifferent’ and ‘All On The Line’ could do well on commercial radio avenues or at least attract folks weaned on the whole Three Doors Down / Shinedown hype machine. Meanwhile, the Mob’s cover of Duran Duran’s ‘Come Undone’ (featuring Halestorm vocalist Lzzy Hale turning in a stellar guest spot) is a scorching top-notch update on the original hit, with more than enough bite to scare away your average programming director.

In the end it’s the heavier tracks like ‘Undaunted’, ‘Feelin’ Me’, ‘Down To The Floor’, ‘Psychosane’, ‘Hit The Wall’ and ‘Freight Train’ that leave a lasting impression. Allen is in clearly his element, while Orlando is a beast destined to become a much bigger name as Adrenaline Mob chugs forward. And even though Portnoy could have phoned in his performance, you get the impression he had a stupid amount of fun crushing heads rather than sorting through a mountain of prog metal details to get to the end.

Fave tracks: ‘Undaunted’, ‘Come Undone’, ‘Feelin’ Me’, ‘Freight Train’, ‘Psychosane’

When Halestorm surfaced in 2009 with their self-titled major league debut – after a decade in the trenches creating a buzz – they hit a home run with fans of modern day radio rock. The band was immediately lumped into the Nickelback / Shinedown section of the bus and rewarded with a legion of fans for their trouble. Safe, predictable and formulaic, they became a success through a mix of pushing the right commercial buttons, good looks, and touring their collective asses off on some big-name road trips. For all the accolades, however, Halestorm was considered by those listening from the sidelines as a solid act but not worth writing home about. The release of the ReAniMate covers EP in 2011 punched a king-sized hole in the “safe and predictable” tag-line, scaring the hell out of the naysayers (and some fans) with wonderfully obnoxious covers of anthems ‘Slave To The Grind’ (Skid Row) and ‘Out Ta Get Me’ (Guns N’ Roses), and a ballsy rendition of The Beatles’ classic ‘I Want You (She’s So Heavy)’. The live shows around the release sent a clear message that in spite of popular fluff in their repertoire, Halestorm is a tooth and nail rock band capable of bringing the roof down around your ears.

For anyone that didn’t jump on board at the beginning of the Halestorm trip, new outing The Strange Case Of… is exactly that: strange. It kicks off with a tip of the hat to the fans of all things heavy with ‘Love Bites (So Do I)’, essentially daring rivet-heads everywhere not to get roped in by the up-tempo shred and vocalist/guitarist Lzzy Hale’s rant-tastic delivery. Second track ‘Mz. Hyde’ is just as much of a surprise thanks to a chugging Stray Cats groove (!), followed by the soaring crush of ‘I Miss The Misery’ and the too-Papa-Roach-for-its-own-good rocker, ‘Freak Like Me’. Only four songs in, it’s clear as to why Lzzy is considered to be one of, if not the best female vocalist on the scene today. Her delivery is classic Joan Jett attitude mixed with Corey Taylor intensity (as needed) and a young Sebastian Bach’s insane vocal range. Everything you hear has been and can be pulled off live, with interest.

The weirdness of The Strange Case Of… strolls in with the delivery of three (!!) back-to-back-to-back mid-album ballads (‘Beautiful With You’, ‘In Your Room’, ‘Break In’), effectively stopping the freight train momentum cold. Wading through the sap, it feels as if someone in a suit ham-fisted the running order while muttering “There’s gotta be hit around here somewhere…” The band would have been better off shelving two of the songs for bonus material at a later date, particularly since the country-rock closing track ‘Here’s To Us’ (coming to a cover band near you, mark my words) is a monster ballad with “HIT” scrawled all over it. Credit where it’s due, they recover nicely with the brilliant ‘You Call Me A Bitch Like It’s A Bad Thing’ and ‘Daughters Of Darkness’, featuring Lzzy doing a bang-up job as a satanic cheerleader on the latter.

Now, here’s the kicker…

In spite of the complaints above, the damn thing works as a complete package. No bloody idea how or why, but in spite of my claims to being Metal To The Core, the Lord Of Eternal Grimness and the dood who puts anger in the word “dangerous” Halestorm have won me over. The ballads remain annoying considering how they’re placed, but it’s possible to listen with half-an-ear and not want to reach for the “skip” button. And admittedly, ‘In Your Room’ is a solid interlude and will remain that way so long as Glee leaves it the fuck alone.

One more album of this quality with the trademark on-stage fireworks to match and Halestorm will be headlining the big, big rooms, because in the end this is full-on bad-ass arena rock, even in the quietest moments.

Fave tracks: ‘Love Bites (So Do I)’, ‘Mz. Hyde’, ‘Here’s To Us’, ‘You Call Me A Bitch Like It’s A Bad Thing’, ‘Daughters Of Darkness’

The long awaited Nightwish follow-up to Dark Passion Play from 2007, Imaginaerum, is a masterpiece. The greatest thing since the creation of fire. Grander the invention of the wheel. A tour de force that has pushed the power metal and classical music scenes to learn French and admit they have no clue what “bombastic” really means. A showcase of musical genius that has composer John Williams considering changing his last name to Holopainen. Better than half-drunk pre-marital sex. So awesome they had to make a movie about/for/with it. Blah blah fucking blah add nausea…

Yes indeed, the media hack hype machine has been puckering up and kissing ass ever since the album was made accessible to the press, likely upping the sales of Chapstick by 200%. Only thing is, Imaginaerum is a bloody masterpiece, particularly if you’re a Nightwish fan that’s been able to see beyond Tarja Turunen’s cleavage.

If not for potential accusations of plagiarism, Nightwish could have gotten away with calling the album Tuomas In Wonderland. Spawned and nurtured by keyboardist / songwriter / founder Tuomas Holopainen, Imaginaerum is his full blown journey into the depths of fairytales and fantasy, something that’s been a here-and-there part of the Nightwish formula from album to album since the band’s inception. It earns the title “epic” before things are even a third done, the majority of the songs being a clear cut and necessary step up and away from Dark Passion Play on almost every count. Just how far one is willing to be yanked down Holopainen’s personal rabbit hole depends on how much time you’re willing to invest in a new, insanely ambitious, and occasionally bizarre take on a traditional soundtrack.

For starters – literally – Nightwish and their record label had the good sense to release second track in, ‘Storytime’, as the first single. Unlike the moronic cheeseball kick-off for Dark Passion Play – the sickly sweet Disney-flavoured ballad ‘Eva’ – ‘Storytime’ pushes expectations into the stratosphere instead of the Kleenex aisle at the drugstore. It sets the tone for Imaginaerum as a whole, complete with trademark Nightwish keyboards and crunch guitars, orchestral accents, sharp melodic hooks, classical opera nuances, and like it or not, Anette Olzon’s non-operatic vocals. This isn’t a blueprint effort by any stretch, so although the original Nightwish foundation is intact, everything slapped around it makes for a much different rollercoaster ride.

With every dose of crowd-pleasing familiarity – ‘I Want My Tears Back’, ‘Rest Calm’, ‘Last Ride Of The Day’, ‘Storytime’ – there’s an unexpected bend in the road that leads to double-take territory. Third track in, ‘Ghost River’, starts as a light and melodic Nightwish anthem (circa ‘Amaranth’) before being stomped into a much more ominous shape by bassist / vocalist Marco Hietala, while ‘Turn Loose The Mermaids’ can easily pass for a Blackmore’s Night track. And the massive ‘Song Of Myself’ is Imaginaerum’s four-part cornerstone, a 14 minute showcase of all the elements that make Nightwish 2011 / 2012 the symphonic monster it is.

Two of the biggest and welcome surprises are the smokey jazz club track ‘Slow, Love, Slow’ (complete with brushes, trumpet and guitar solo), and ‘Scaretale’. Both songs show off very different sides of Olzon, with ‘Scaretale’ being her best recorded work to date. She delivers her lines with the tongue-in-cheek witchery of a starring role in Evil Dead: The Musical (“Squealing PIGS!” indeed), adding a ton of personality to an already twisted Willy Wonka’s day-at-the-circus song arrangement. It’s one of the go-to tracks each time the album shuffles around.

The Anette vs Tarja vocal war will continue to rage amongst the fans, of course, but Olzon should be given her due. With the exception of ‘I Want My Tears Back’ – which very well could have been another ‘Wish I Had An Angel’ with Turunen up front – there’s no pining from this seat for the band’s former singer. And even then, it’s more out of ‘What if?” curiosity than thinking Olzon doesn’t belong.

And for the record, Hietala’s voice is still gold every time he opens his mouth.

My only real complaint – other than the continued muzzling of guitarist Emppu Vuorinen as a shredhead soloist – is Imaginaerum’s overblown length. Folks will argue that the album needs to be as long as it is given Holopainen’s focus this time out, but it’s doubtful even the most loyal of diehards can keep their enthusiasm up from top to bottom for repeated listens (ie: spoken word passages in large earfulls have limited appeal). Give it a year and fans will be raving about select songs rather than the amount of awesome threaded through the entire package. They’ll still be raving, though, and rightly so.

Ultimately, Imaginaerum is a masterpiece in the Nightwish universe, and an impossibly high benchmark for other symphonic metal bands to reach much less surpass. That said, it would be nice to see the band return in a few years with a naked back-to-basics album of vocals / guitars / keys / bass / drums, just to prove they don’t need to rely on high budget bells & whistles to produce something noteworthy and thoroughly enjoyable.

When a band releases an album for free, the knee-jerk reaction is to dismiss it as a collection of odds and bits that aren’t worthy of an official “real world” physical release. A Southern Revelation is available at no cost to friend and foe alike (details below), featuring brand new material written and recorded in the wake of a label-instigated shitsorm that would have ripped a lesser band to shreds. Call it nine shots of venom capped off with a chaser celebrating the good old days, served up as a middle finger dedicated to Tiefdruck Musik boss Daniel Heerdman following the botched release of My Ruin’s previous record, Ghosts And Good Stories.

A bloodletting rather than an exorcism, vocalist Tairrie B. Murphy tears down Heerdmann, false promises, industry politics and the posers it spawns, ever the elegant wordsmith whether she’s a raging scream or calculated spoken word. Always a treat to listen to – “listen” being the operative word – lyrical violence abounds, with Tairrie venting in her trademark no-bull fashion on ‘Walk Of Shame’, ‘Middle Finger’, ‘Seventh Sacrament’, ‘Deconsecrated’, and the killing blow, ‘The Soulless Beast’. And while certain folks may feel that there’s no such thing as bad publicity, being compared in song to the devil and stamped as “The Great Pretender” by name should be food for change of thought.

Tairrie’s voices are the razor-tipped hand to guitarist/husband Mick Murphy’s iron glove, who carries her attack on a platform of trademark Black Sabbath-meets-Black Label Society shred. Thank to an album production that’s even more bare bones than Ghosts And Good Stories, with a heavier bottom to boot, Mick offers advanced schooling in riff and dirge without getting in his wife’s space. It’s a balancing act that pays off, particularly on ‘Tennessee Elegy’, ‘Walk Of Shame’ and ‘Seventh Sacrament’. It’s also fair to say that ‘Deconsecrated’ and ‘The Soulless Beast’ are two of the Murphy clan’s finest songs to date thanks to the ear-popping dynamics and over-the-top performances.

It’s worth noting, however, that for all the screaming bloody murder to be had, it’s Mick Murphy’s rock roots that come shining through as the album’s foundation. Maybe it has something to do with the fact it was written and recorded in Knoxville, Tennessee rather than their usual LA haunts. By no means are the songs or performances watered down; on the contrary, they have that top tier garage band appeal.

As for the aforementioned feelgood chaser, My Ruin cap things off with a crushingly dirty rendition of Van Halen’s ‘Mean Streets’. The song may seem out of place at first glance, but for a band that has paid tribute to KISS and AC/DC in similar fashion, it’s a reminder that when the venting is done and the rage is spent, My Ruin is still in it for the love of music.

A Southern Revelation is available for free beginning December 7th. Go to www.myruin.net to download your copy.

It’s been a long, long, long time since Iced Earth has done anything for me, with Something Wicked This Way Comes from 1998 standing as the last knock-down no-holds-barred skull basher in guitarist / founder Jon Schaffer’s catalogue. There have been some noteworthy moments since then – ‘The Phantom Opera Ghost’ from Horror Show and ‘The Reckoning’ from The Glorious Burden being the mindblowing faves – but nothing that dug its hooks in down to the bone for the space of a full album. With that in mind, the usual industry hype that preceded the release of Dystopia sounded like smoke-blow for the hopeless fanboy, automatically setting my expectations on the low side as a failsafe against disappointment.

The first spin through Dystopia yanked jaw to floor. Repeated listens since then – again and again… and again – have convinced me that Iced Earth is back in the game and capable of surpassing the brightest moments of The Dark Saga / Something Wicked… breakthrough era from over a decade past.

Dystopia’s charm and staying power stem from the fact that Schaffer has dialled back his penchant of the past five years for delivering music in epic and sometimes too-big-to-be digested portions. By no means is this a sign he’s lacking in ambition these days; it’s just being channelled in a new (old) way. And, Schaffer should be applauded for stripping things down and keeping focus on the bloody point. The lead off title track is old school bombast diehard fans came to expect of Iced Earth long ago – without a grand lyrical display or truckloads of musical nuance gumming up the works – ultimately setting Dystopia’s tone. Big on singalong hooks, ‘Anthem’ and ‘V’ are custom built for the stage, while the crushing ‘Days Of Rage’ and frantic pair ‘Dark City’ and ‘Boiling Point’ play the opposite end of the spectrum, the last clocking in at a mindboggling and thoroughly enjoyable less than three minutes. Dystopia’s crowning glory, however, may well be the oddly upbeat punk-flavoured closing track, ‘Tragedy And Triumph’, which shoves its message home as much through the music as the lyrics.

It’s worth remembering that Schaffer has been taken to task in the past for seemingly ripping himself off by recycling song arrangements, and Dystopia features two glaring (real or imagined) examples; the ballad-esque ‘Anguish Of Youth’ and crusher ‘Dark City’, which come off as newer renditions of ‘I Died For You’ and ‘Slave To The Dark’ respectively (both from The Dark Saga). Whether this was a conscious move or not, Schaffer is guilty only of following the example set by AC/DC and Iron Maiden, and both tracks in question are stand-out pieces of work.

In the end, new vocalist Stu Block (Into Eternity) should be credited – particularly by those us who have been fence-sitting for over a decade – for bringing the raging intensity back to Iced Earth’s music (circa the Night Of The Stormrider record). The perfect cross between on again-off again singer Matt Barlow and longer-gone Tim “Ripper” Owens, Block’s previously untapped lower range turns out melodies that are lush yet gritty, and his high end shrieks are as potent as ever. Schaffer’s decision to take Block in was pure (evil) genius, and his writing is the proof in the pudding. Plenty of high points to choose from in Block’s performance, with ‘Anthem’, ‘Dark City’, ‘Tragedy And Triumph’ and ‘Boiling Point’ being the faves of the moment. The icing on the cake is that Block doesn’t cap off every phrase with a growled “ah!”, an agonizing tick that was Barlow’s one unfortunate trademark.

Dystopia is a unexpected surprise for the doubters and a gift for Iced Earth’s long term fans. Still, it’s a safe bet the faithful didn’t see a pounding of this magnitude coming their way.

Fave tracks: ‘Anthem’, ‘V’, ‘Dark City’, ‘Boiling Point’, ‘Tragedy And Triumph’

Check out my recent interview with Block here.

Kittie threw down the gauntlet in 2007 with Funeral For Yesterday, an album that earned them a truckload of credibility amongst the metal masses for nailing the coffin shut on the alterna-nu-metalcore sound that yanked the spotlight in their direction in the late ‘90s. The highly anticipated 2009 follow-up, In The Black, cemented Kittie’s place at the table occupied by old school metal purists and a younger generation with its collective head in the right place. No surprise, then, that I’ve Failed You stomps even deeper into the realms of metal, crushing any lingering thoughts of the foursome as nothing more than an all-female novelty act. The level of musicianship and song dynamics on the album, on the other hand, is a bloody revelation.

Not that Kittie didn’t have the chops before, but if “maturity” is a dirty word the ladies have been mud-bathing for the last year and come out all guns blazing.

The opening salvo of the title track sets the tone for the album, with drummer Mercedes Lander off on a rip-and-tear, turning in what has to be her best recorded work to date. Most of the songs occupy a comfortable mid-tempo pocket, but the proceedings are neither dry nor predictable thanks to Mercedes’ ridiculous energy level throughout (read: if it can be hit, it will be pounded). As busy as the drums get, however, the songs feature miles of space for frontwoman/sister Morgan Lander and guitarist Tara McLeod to play around with. There’s plenty of what has become trademark shred from the pair, lessons in all things Carcass and Black Sabbath learned well. And, Lander has (finally) found the perfect balance of naked-growls-to-melodic-clean singing, often letting one approach dominate from song to song rather than phoning in a trendy Soilwork flip-flop vocal performance that so many of Kittie’s peers get away with.

The band and producer Siegfried Meier have taken a “keep it simple, stupid” approach with the entire package and it shows, right down to a brilliant 36 minute all killer / no bullshit running time.

Picking fave tracks off I’ve Failed You is a pain, which is perhaps the ultimate stamp of approval. First single ‘We Are The Lamb’ is the Kittie crusher guaranteed to hook the masses, with the rhythmically clever ‘Empires (Part 2)’ showing off the band’s chops. ‘Ugly’ is a short but sweet injection of piss-and-venom, while ‘What Have I Done’ shines for its Sabbath dirge, which becomes something even heavier and meaner mid-song. On the lighter end of the scale ‘Never Come Home’ is melodic Morgan updating the Funeral For Yesterday vibe, and ‘Time Never Heals’ lets folks off the rollercoaster with class.

Of course, there are the drama queens out there that’ll fluff off the above as a Canadian homeboy paying lip service to his own. A fair accusation, but completely off the mark because if I’ve Failed You sucked it wouldn’t be worth wasting time or precious earwax on, origins be damned. To these ears, I’ve Failed You is a damn near perfect record, and it takes a lot to impress someone as jaded and spoiled as Yours Truly.

Maybe it was a full moon, the previous evening’s entertainment, or a case of pre-flight jitters, but my first run through Kicking & Screaming left me cold and underwhelmed. Bach’s voice was shot full of holes, the songs were toothless, and there were too many damn ballads to be take the album title seriously. The 21-year-old fanboy rattling inside my brain was having none of it, however, and for the next month at home in Toronto the album received regular airplay on a set of cheap-ass portable iPod speakers (due to a bizarre gardening accident involving the car stereo). Slowly but surely, Kicking & Screaming revealed its true self. By the time it hit the big metalhead approved junk-in-the-trunk office sound system, there was no choice but to drown those first impressions.

Putting the bottom line before wiseguy prose, this is the album Skid Row wishes they could cough up. Call it shades and reflections of the Skids’ classic first two albums (the self-titled debut and Slave To The Grind). And while there’s no ‘Youth Gone Wild’, ’18 & Life’ or ‘Monkey Business’ to be had after a dozen listens, it far surpasses anything Baz’ former bandmates have done since Johnny Sollinger was tapped to try and follow the Bacharoo Banzai Show.

The jury is still out on whether it overpowers Bach’s previous ton of bricks, Angel Down, as Kicking & Screaming is a grower that has to be absorbed over time rather than pounded back like a free Jäger shot.

The record shows promise with the title track and four-on-the-floor ‘My Own Worst Enemy’, but it’s third song in, ‘Tunnelvision’, that kicks things into gear with a dark Slave To The Grind feel and Bach’s full vocal program. New guitarist Nick Sterling’s playing is an updated take on the Snake Sabo / Scotti Hill duo rolled into one – more convincing as a groove player rather than a shredhead – giving Bach deep pockets (finally) to seek, find and yank out the hooks. And there are tons of ‘em. As a result, it’s hard not get sucked into the brawl of ‘Tunnelvision’, the stellar ‘Dance On Your Grave’, ‘Dirty Power’, ‘One Good Reason’, and the respectable ‘80s cheese of ‘As Long As I Got The Music’.

The record offers up three ballad-esque bits – which is two too many for these ears – with only ‘I’m Alive’ weighing in with the clout of an ‘I Remember You’.

The vocals versus personal taste will ultimately earn Kicking & Screaming the pass / fail grade. Whether it’s Mother Nature proving he’s hit his 40s or by design, Bach’s trademark raging howler monkey delivery is secondary to his melodic mid-range and an all too often overlooked lower register (see ‘I’m Alive’). When he does lay down the gut-to-throat grit, as on ‘Dance On Your Grave’, ‘One Good Reason’, ‘Tunnelvision’, and ‘Dirty Power’, you kinda wish he’d pushed the envelope for the entire record. That said, Kicking & Screaming is nowhere near the agonizingly painful disappointment of something like Rob Halford’s 2010 outing, Made Of Metal, which was far too tentative for a metal god.

Hell, let’s be honest; Kicking & Screaming is an unexpected and welcome kick in the teeth once it hits cruising speed.

In the end, Bach is cursed to have anything he does weighed against his Skid Row days because he gave the band its identity; a like-it-or-lump-it situation for him and the diehard fans. Kicking & Screaming will be viewed by most followers as the closest either party has come to the glory days of those first two albums. At the very least Bach has earned bragging rights this time out, and that well worn middle finger in the air is more than justified.

Five albums old, Japanese melodic cyber-death metal outfit Blood Stain Child have made a habit of overhauling their sound from record to record. The symphonic Euro-metal mess of their 2002 debut, Silence Of Northern Hell, evolved into various forms of Scandinavian worship in the years that followed, chanelling a grittier and altogether fugly Children Of Bodom on Mystic Your Heart in 2003. The band officially hit their stride two years later with Idolator and a trance-laced take on melding classic and new age In Flames, which continued on Mozaiq in 2007, albeit with more focus on electronic elements, female backing vocals, and a new singer in the driver’s seat. Blood Stain Child’s fanbase has grown with them in spite of these changes, but nothing could have prepared folks for the metamorphosis that has resulted in arguably the strongest album of their career.

Epsilon sees bassist / original vocalist Ryo back up front, replacing his one-album replacement Sadew, only he now shares duties with Greek female singer Sophia, who has effectively changed the way Blood Stain Child does business. Between the melodic and oft-times pop elements of her voice and pushing mad scientist Aki’s electronica up front, evil genius / guitarist Ryu’s vision of creating something unique have been realized. Call it perplexing and bloody impressive, because Epsilon is one of those albums where steel-chewing metalheads should be screaming bloody murder when confronted with anime inspired techno-pop in the mix, yet it works. Make no mistake; the guitars, solos, and death metal screams are the hook-heavy foundation of Epsilon, so there’s no lack of edge, but Blood Stain Child have tapped into something guaranteed to be emulated and ripped-off the world over, as all good things are.

The album packs a wallop from the word “go”, with the first five tracks setting up Ryo’s return to the mic and Sophia as the band’s new voice. She shares equal time up front rather than being some disposable enhancement, loading tracks ‘Sirius VI’, ‘Forever Free’ and fan favourite ‘Stargazer’ with an unexpectedly brash amount of melody. Call it a twist on Soilwork’s trademark flip-flop vocal attack. Personal faves in this regard are ‘Eternal’, ‘La+’, ‘Unlimited Alchemist’, ‘Stargazer’ and the guilty pleasure ‘S.O.P.H.I.A.’, the last of which incorporates every element splattered across the Epsilon canvas. Musically, the record is an up-tempo slash and burn for the most part, powered as much by organic drums as potentially (but not) annoying techno beats. Lone ballad ‘Sai-Ka-No’, and ‘Merry Go Round’ – complete with early ’80s Howard Jones meets Thompson Twins keyboards – round things out, with only ‘Electricity’ and ‘Dedicated To Violator’ (an homage to the band’s former drummer) disturbing the flow. A matter of taste, really, but the last two tracks step much too deep into the realms of happy happy joy joy rave for some diehard metal fans.

The only occasional downside to Epsilon is the tweaking of Sophia’s voice on some tracks. It makes sense that some processing was done given the cybernetic nature of the music, but her natural voice and deeper range is much more impressive and instantly seductive. It’s nowhere near the auto-tuned car crash of that disaster Ke$ha, so giving Blood Stain Child the benefit of the doubt, money is on the reality-based Sophia having a better chance to shine a hell of a lot brighter next time out.

No question, Epsilon is an album created by the band for the band. They’ve simply left the door wide open for anyone with balls big enough to join the party.

Fave tracks: ‘Ultimate Alchemist’, ‘Sirius VI’, ‘Stargazer’, S.O.P.H.I.A.’, ‘Eternal’

I was recently taken to task by a couple diehard Stephen King fans for this blog offering my compliments for Under The Dome, given the brush off for “damning him with faint praise” because my tongue didn’t take up residence in King’s ass. With that in mind I’ve decided to weigh in on his “little” epic, which turned out to be a satisfying read despite the widespread slamming he’s received for it.

Yes, I know I’m a bit late considering the book was published in 2009, but if you don’t like it there’s the door ————————>

The basic premise of the story (click here here for a synopsis that ruins the end for you) is classic science fiction:

– small town Somewheresville (in this case, Chester’s Mill) is cut off from the rest of the world by an invisible force field, dubbed The Dome.

– things go from peculiar to bad to worse for the folks on the inside.

– you’re in a Stephen King story; karma’s a bitch.

As Stephen King books go, Under The Dome has moments reminiscent of Needful Things and It, but it isn’t and will never be considered one of his best works by his legion of Constant Readers. Everything from the sheer bulk of it (1,000+ pages), to lack of character depth, to King’s in-your-face views on religion and the Obama administration have been cited as reasons why Under The Dome fails to live up to expected high quality King-ship. Then there’s the end of the story, which has left some folks screaming “foul” for being too empty, too quick, too Hollywood…

Bah. Getting there was half the fun.

In all fairness, the criticism heaped on Under The Dome is understandable. The page count is daunting if you’re used to reading books that rarely hit the 500 mark, as is keeping track of the cast of characters (additional fingers and toes of your nearest neighbor are required to keep an accurate head count). King’s potshots at the church and related religious ilk are numerous, and the big bang outro has all the earmarks of a Roland Emmerich wet dream. If, however, you’re willing to treat the story as a bit of morbid sucks-to-be-them entertainment instead of an exercise in benchmarking, Under The Dome is a solid read.

It’s clear from the outset that King is bent on having a fun with the unsuspecting Chester’s Mill populace. His writer’s voice is the hook, keeping things light all the way through, even when describing various methods of dispatching folks and assorted critters to the great beyond, the twisted baddie Rennie’s warped state of mind, or the joys of necrophelia. And although it may sound like a Hellraiser gore fest, Under The Dome is in fact a psychological “What if?” horror story that offers up some terrifyingly plausible scenarios with regards to the (in)human condition. Sure, King tries to get away with blowing science fact all to hell on occasion – aviation experts will probably have issues with a certain plane crash, for example – but the diehard nitpickers should leave their pocket protectors in the drawer before settling in. This is supposed to be fun, and if you’re not in it for the escapism you should have stayed at work.

Whether the book would have benefitted from being trimmed by a third is up for debate. Given that it involves an entire township, having a cast of only five or six characters would have ultimately dried things out far too quickly. Ensemble crew though it may be, the core of Barbie (King’s reluctant boy-named-Sue hero), Julia (tooth and nail reporter), Rennie (the Boss Hogg of Chester’s Mill), Rusty (too smart for his own good doctor) and Cox (helpless military presence) keep things centered, with the supporting cast woven in and out to keep things moving forward, stopping folks dead, and blowing things up. Through it all, King’s barbed wit pokes like a nail to the funny bone.

The only real gripe I’ll offer are the kids; too damn many rugrats running around, with only two of them offering any real impact on the story. I was reminded more than once of how Spielberg and his writers fucked up the Jurassic Park franchise with kiddies when they could and should have been left on the cutting room floor.

To be fair, the presence of one little brat for the utterance of the classic King-ism “socktagon” made me lol my ass off for 10 minutes. Nicely done.

Perhaps the only unfortunate aspect of Under The Dome is that I was constantly reminded of The Simpsons feature film from 2007, which features the town of Springfield trapped under a dome. King wasn’t influenced by America’s #1 family, of course, having planted the seeds for the book back in 1976, but I admit that silent prayers were said the deeper I went into it, hoping to hell nobody named Homer, Bart, Lisa or Marge showed up to join the party.