Yer Metal Is Olde: Metallica – Load

By Dr. A.N. Grier

Next year, one of Metallica’s greatest albums will turn 30 years old. Yup, you guessed it, Load. That’s why I’m writing a YMIO piece for it this year. Not just to break the rules and piss off ole Steelio, but because the band just released a remastered version of this precious little gem. Why would they do that, you might ask? No fucking clue. But, for collectors, you can expect a rather fresh-sounding remaster and roughly 10,000 useless demos and live performances. Not that you can’t find all the live performances you could ever want from Metallica. And whoever the jagoff is that keeps adding them to Metal Archives, fucking stop, ya stupid cunt. And if said jagoff is one of you, kill yourself. Anyway, this remastered version is apparently such big news that when I search for the album on iTunes, I get this ridiculously over-bloated version every time. And I suspect this hit piece will be just as big, forever immortalized as one of the greatest recollections of Metallica’s big, fat Load.

Let’s set the stage. It’s the 90s, and things have already gone weird for the band when they hired Bob Rock and dropped their massively successful “Black Album,” splitting their fan base in half while attracting millions of arena-goers all over the world. This led to a strange anticipation during that five-year gap between Metallica and Load. Would they continue on this new path? Or have they got that out of their systems and we’ll return to the days of …And Justice for All? What they did next shocked the world. They cut their hair and put on mascara. The ’80s kids revolted while the hype excited the ’90s kids because they weren’t getting one new album; they were getting two in two years. But Metallica were still metal, right? I mean, they coated their new record in blood and jism, for fuck’s sake. While every kid lied to their mothers about the unsavory artwork, one thing was for sure: the Metallica we all knew and loved was gone forever. Goodbye to the underground tape trading. Say hello to radio rock!

Load marks the beginning of fun-loving tunes and addictive choruses, like those found in “2×4,” “Until It Sleeps,” and King Nothing.” It’s also the beginning of filler-filled albums that could have used a haircut as well. Take the best tracks from Load and Reload, and you could have made a single solid album. But no… Instead, the masses have to suffer through two albums with more than a dozen tracks each and roughly two-and-a-half hours of music. That said, of the two records, Load has arguably aged better, bringing interesting concepts that no one would have expected from Het and co., for example, the underrated “Ronnie,” where Hetfield delivers the story of my serial-killing childhood. Load also marks the first time the band wrote a song in a major key with the lyrically charming “Hero of the Day.” The record is so odd that its weirdness is its charm. Plus, those were the times. How many of these classic ’80s bands got sucked into the nightmarish ’90s MTV mentality?

The band also began toying with longer closers, much like the old days in Ride the Lightning, though “The Call of Ktulu” is a far sleeker track than Load’s “The Outlaw Torn.” That said, the closer is one of the more memorable tracks on the album. Even though it meanders far too much, the climax is worth it, and the closing riff is a nice bookend to the opener. The other with a similar length is the underrated “Bleeding Me.” In comparison, the journey one takes in “Bleeding Me” is one of the better ones in Hetfield’s dark mind. It’s a surprisingly powerful piece that tears me to emotional ribbons. A phrase I cannot use for “Mama Said.” This song sees Hetfield taking us off the asphalt and onto a dusty desert road with horses and shit. A song that supposedly almost didn’t make it on the album, yet was “good” enough for a music video. Which is hilarious because the rest of the band basically makes a cameo, watching Het ride off into the sunset in a fucking cowboy hat and shit-kicker boots. Otherwise, the rest of the album is filler stuffed with mood-killing interludes, unnecessary crooning, and the time-period piece of shit talk box in “The House Jack Built.”

Like my piece on the mighty St. Anger, no one asked for a write-up on one of Metallica’s best Bob Rock records. It’s not metal or the Metallica of the ’80s, but times were a-changin’. But, after the great success the band had with their self-titled record, do you blame them for taking this direction? While every metalhead bashes on this record, it’s not like it was a financial failure. Kids at the time flocked to this fucking record, attracted to the groovy, bluesy riffs and personal emotion of Hetfield’s lyrics. While there are plenty of flaws, and so much wah-wah pedal that the band decided to cut out solos for St. Anger, I’d spin this lengthy record far more than any of the rest of the shit that came out. I mean, at least they didn’t do a hip-hop collaboration like Anthrax. Load and Reload were not the albums any fan wanted, but, for better or worse, Load began a new era for Metallica, and they really didn’t give a fuck what we thought. So, do yourself a favor, listen to the crisp remastered version, relive your Zack Morris years, and don’t waste your hate on Met. Also, pull up your pants and cut your fucking hair.

#1996 #AmericanMetal #Anthrax #ElektraRecords #GrooveMetal #HardRock #Load #Metallica #YerMetalIsOlde

Yer Metal is Olde: Dark Tranquillity – Character

By Grymm

Once heralded as a promising hotbed of melodic death metal goodness, Gothenburg, Sweden wasn’t quite the same back in 2005 as it was in the mid-to-late 1990s. In Flames was busy chasing the nü-metal dream, trading twin guitar melodies and acoustic folklore and beauty for jumpsuits, dreadlocks, and simplistic riffage. At The Gates, once the spearhead of the entire Gothenburg movement, was long gone at that point, and wouldn’t reunite for another couple of years. It was up to Dark Tranquillity to put the city back on the map, and despite their own dalliances in moody goth territory, it would take 2002’s Damage Done to marry their trademark melodic sensibilities with their newfound love for electronic influences and dark motifs. However, with their few prior albums being all over the map, nobody knew what they had in store for them when Character reared its head in January 2005.

Thankfully, Damage Done was a damn riffy, heavier beast. I remember picking up Character at my local Newbury Comics, right up the street from the Staples where I worked during a lunch break on a particularly bad day, and I was blown away by how “The New Build” didn’t mess around at all. With Anders Jivarp blasting away, and both Niklas Sundin and Martin Henriksson hurling riffs and melodies at you at lightning speed, “The New Build” would set the tone straight away that sure, this is like its predecessor, but it was far nastier and uglier. Well, at least from the first couple of songs, anyway.

From “The Endless Feed” on forward, the moodiness that perpetuated 1999’s dark horse Projector would make its reappearance, but rather than dwelling in sorrow and despair, it would instead converge with the band’s refound ferocity, channeling a completely different animal altogether that would later become a Dark Tranquillity trademark. From there, future live classics like “Lost to Apathy” and album closer (and the only “ballad” on here) “My Negation” would further cement Sundin and Henriksson as a guitar duo just as worthy of praise as the classic duos before them. There’s not a bad moment on Character, with each song making a strong case for a live appearance, and the knowledge that no matter what the band chooses for their live set, it’s a surefire bet that anything from Character would go down swimmingly.

And a giant part of that is due to how Character manages to tie up everything that Dark Tranquillity created up to that point into a tidy, neat bow. While it lacked Mikael Stanne’s moody crooning, the intensity of his growls was never in question, and his savage performance acts as a thread throughout the album. Otherwise, the blazing melodies that were captured during Skydancer, fellow YMIO inductee The Gallery, and The Mind’s I were honed to an impeccable sharpness while the moodier vibes from Projector and Haven blended better than before, especially with a much heavier backdrop. This was a culmination of what made Dark Tranquillity great.

And I could say that about any of DT’s mid-period. Damage Done was the about-face return from more gothic wanderings, and Character’s immediate follow-up Fiction would further tinker with the winning formula, with a welcome return of Stanne’s singing voice. But Character… well, Character hit just right, during the right time, and at the right intensity. It was the perfect storm of melodic precision, death metal heft, and electronic experimentation that was the ultimate soundtrack to long work nights, eager drives home, and repeated listens with friends. Character was, and still is, something special, and now it’s rightfully in the Halls of the Olde, where it belongs.

#2005 #AtTheGates #CenturyMediaRecords #Character #DarkTranquillity #InFlames #MelodicDeathMetal #SwedishMetal #YerMetalIsOlde

Yer Metal Is Olde: Enslaved – Isa

By Dolphin Whisperer

Not a single band out there really sounds like Enslaved—arguably modern Enslaved records included, many of which have landed mixed in these halls. But one thing is consistent in the Angry Metal Guy message: Enslaved’s peak period produced timeless records that should sit atop the rankings of many a list. For many, myself included, that run extends from 2003’s Below the Lights to 2008’s Vertebrae, each incorporating different progressive and psychedelic ideas into Enslaved’s already idiosyncratic black metal approach.

Isa sits at a crossroads. Under the tutelage of Dennis Reksten, who had teamed up with Enslaved at the ripe age of 50,1 the past few albums received a smattering of spacey synth ambience that allowed Enslaved to explore a new dimension in their craft, culminating in 2003’s Below the Lights. But for Isa Enslaved looked to the electronic and crooning talents of Herbrand Larsen, a young audio engineer who had helped those same albums animate and glisten. The shift in personnel brought with it a shift in drama. Not to say that prior works had lacked that kind of tension, but with lesser Viking swagger,2 Isa rolls in its atmosphere through alien soundscapes and vicious harsh vocal cut-ins, with Grutle Kjellson’s inimitable, phlegmy rasp sitting dead center between twisting guitar lines and Larsen’s background counterpoint. No matter how strange and beautiful, Isa remains rooted in the brooding nature of Enslaved’s wintery, black metal identity.

In a manner that eludes many who play for Enslaved’s crown, Isa boasts a brilliant and otherworldly sense of guitar tone that provides and slice and crunch to heroic compositions. Bolstered frequencies lift the snarl of creeping tremolo runs with the weight of Kjellson’s crackling howls into reckoning rolls of Heimdall-weighed power (“Lunar Force,” “Violet Drawing”). Harmonic, heavy-handed, trv metal chords crash down with a classic, grooving beat to swirl a patterned Norse fury among pained wails and into resplendent, progressive modulations (“Bounded by Allegiance,” “Return to Yggdrasil”). Still Enslaved finds a firm footing in black metal, forging Bathory-infused riffage with anthemic tension and classic head-stacked energy to break up any lull in mood that Isa’s narrative lilts present (“Isa,” “Secrets of the Flesh”). And when fresh-at-the-time axe-slinger Ice Dale (Audrey Horne) slips loose with treble-knockin’, tricky blues solos (“Bounded…,” “Neogenesis”), his free and flamboyant style oozes with charisma.

Isa’s breakout and break-though progressive escapades give it the full life force for which Enslaved had been aiming with their earlier experimentations. Though never quite as out there as Norwegian neighbors Borknagar or Arcturus, Enslaved sense of cinema expanded through Isa via bookend atmospherics (“Intro,” “Outro”) and similarly-toned chord reprisals that reinforce the empyrean vibrations throughout every track. The gentle piano punctuation on “Lunar Force” gives shimmering, moonlight assist to the already gothic allure of its foremost stride. You can feel the arena swing that the now legendary, leaned-back Dale supplies to “Isa” and “Bounded by Allegiance” part in reverence to chorus breakaways, harmonized chants, and fluttering acoustics, only to return with additional amplified impact—crushing and unified attack. Isa lives on the edge of crescendo, with its first potential peak (“Bounded…”) ending in a hard stop before yet another catastrophic riff climb, which allows its twelve-minute epic “Neogenesis” the proper environment to build, to soar, to entrance with the majesty that it should. While no strangers to epic narrative, Enslaved used Isa to cement their legacy as masters.

If you ask a dozen Enslaved fans who find their aughts work to be their pinnacle, you may not always hear Isa come out as the dominant choice and for good reason. Much of the songwriting flex that Isa showcases presents in different fashions on many of this celebrated band’s works in that time frame. Whether the stronger gallop of Below the Lights, the heavier-handed psychedelia of Monumension or Ruun, or the near pure progressive romp of Vertebrae, Enslaved has many faces that they’ve worn well and better than other bands. But Isa stands alone for me as the balance of collective visions in the form of a well-armored black metal warrior—an album worthy of adoration from diverse angles of metallic enjoyment.

#2004 #2024 #BlackMetal #Enslaved #Isa #NorwegianMetal #ProgressiveBlackMetal #ProgressiveMetal #TabuRecordings #VikingMetal #YerMetalIsOlde

Yer Metal Is Olde: Monstrosity – In Dark Purity

By Maddog

The year is 1999. Valfar is alive, but Billie Eilish is not. Yours truly enjoys one last year of freedom before kindergarten. Bruce and Adrian rejoin Iron Maiden, and Madonna’s Ray of Light celebrates its first birthday. In the background, death metal mutates. Brutality proliferates; Suffocation has disbanded (for now), but Cryptopsy, Dying Fetus, Nile, and Deeds of Flesh have hit the scene. Technicality flourishes, as Necrophagist and Decapitated prepare to release superhuman debuts. Gorguts’ Obscura has ushered in a decades-long march toward dissonance. Death has proggified death metal forever, releasing their swansong a few months prior. Opeth is doing Opeth stuff. Meanwhile, vintage death metal is not dead, but it sputters. Titans like Morbid Angel and Deicide have already released their most iconic works; indeed, few of the old guard (save Immolation and perhaps Cannibal Corpse​​) have excellent studio albums in their future.

Amidst this turmoil, Florida’s Monstrosity hangs by a thread. After releasing a stellar sophomore record Millennium in 1996, the band lost both its vocalist (Corpsegrinder, poached by Cannibal Corpse) and its guitarist. After replacing them and experiencing another round of guitarist turnover,1 Monstrosity trudges to the studio and records In Dark Purity. Against all odds, the album is an icon. More polished than Millennium, In Dark Purity builds on the ABC’s of death metal without mimicking its ancestors. Unlike the truly experimental artists of their era, Monstrosity trounces the listener with chunky mid-paced riffs. On face, their guitar-centric attack may seem akin to the likes of Cannibal Corpse, but Monstrosity innovates around the edges. Ever-evolving rhythms keep your neck on its toes, off-kilter melodies add character, and the tempo ranges from Autopsy to Deicide. Both thrilling and unmistakable, In Dark Purity outshines most of death metal’s classics.

In Dark Purity’s most enduring feature is its creativity. Tinged with Death, the album’s nonstandard rhythms induce delicious whiplash and break free of genre shackles (“In Dark Purity”). While Lee Harrison’s drums aren’t flashy, they spring to life in support. The most potent example is “Perpetual War,” whose fluid drum performance and furious riffs make it one of the greatest tracks of the 1990s. Not to be outdone, Monstrosity’s melodies embrace subtle strangeness as well. Channeling Slayer’s Hell Awaits, Monstrosity’s accidentals and hopscotching riffs stand out among the overcrowded Florida swamps (“Hymns of Tragedy”). While Kelly Conlon’s (Death) bass presence is subtle, he bubbles to the surface with some delectably wonky backbone melodies (“Shapeless Domination”). For all their creativity, Monstrosity never innovates for innovation’s sake; rather, In Dark Purity’s power grows with each quirk. The flailing solo of “Shapeless Domination” wouldn’t hit as hard without Harrison’s wild tom fills or its truncated measures, and the most neck-snapping segments of “Perpetual War” are its nine-beat extravaganzas. Monstrosity’s take on death metal stands apart.

Fear not; In Dark Purity is brainy, but it’s a bonanza of bangers. The album’s most well-known track is “Destroying Divinity,” whose explosive main theme kicks off the proceedings with a bang. In Dark Purity shines brightest during its climaxes, which are often dumb fun. For instance, “Suffering to the Conquered” uses a tranquil Azagthothian solo to lead into a three-chord riff that rocks me every time. Jason Avery’s fearsome growls raise these moments into the thermosphere, and “The legions gather // They form behind their king // Suffering to the conquered // Left dead for all to see // Pray for the impaler” raises the bar for the genre. At times, In Dark Purity’s brain and its heart join hands, like the pummeling crescendos of “The Angels [sic] Venom.” From its simple firestorms to its adventurous compositions, In Dark Purity is a spectacle.

Having reached the age-old crossroads between thoughtful songwriting and sick riffs, Monstrosity chose both. In doing so, they forged an album that’s both immediate and timeless. In Dark Purity was one of the first death metal records to capture my heart in my mid-teens. In the years since, as I’ve felt out its nooks and crannies, my love has only grown. Most impressively, Monstrosity is still alive and well, with 2018’s The Passage of Existence breaking our very own score counter. And their 2 AM set aboard 70K last January was likely the greatest death metal show I’ve ever experienced. Whether you’re a long-time Monstrosity fan or a newcomer, you owe In Dark Purity a spin.

#1999 #2024 #AmericanMetal #CannibalCorpse #DeathMetal #InDarkPurity #Monstrosity #OlympicRecordings #Slayer #YerMetalIsOlde

Yer Metal Is Olde: Fates Warning – FWX

By Dolphin Whisperer

Thirty-five years ago, Fates Warning solidified their shift from torchbearers of US power metal with 1989’s Perfect Symmetry, forever moving their progressive path away from power metal and into an emotional, twisting fusion of playful and grooving tunes that no one has assembled quite the same way since. Primary songwriter and guitarist Jim Matheos has anchored the Fates Warning playbook throughout all these changes—from wizards and wailing (Night on Bröcken1 to The Spectre Within), to Rushin’ and rollin’, and to the edges of Fates Warning’s technical limits. So then, already twenty-plus years into their career at the launch of FWX, what left had Matheos and co. to explore with the Fates sound?

Leaning into similar ideas with which Matheos had already been exploring with his OSI project, FWX does touch down on organic ambience, pulsing electronic rhythms, and hypnotic guitar loops that pushed the Fates Warning boundaries into an alternative rock-inflected territory. At the turn of the ’00s, it wasn’t uncommon to hear a creeping Portis/Radiohead influence in downcast music, and from a similar timeframe you can hear this same exploration in Porcupine Tree works, Deadwing in particular, so hearing this flair in retrospect doesn’t feel too out of place. But at the time of its release, despite Fates Warning never lacking in overdriven riffs that build great songs in a wide range of progressive manners—eclectic but not particularly experimental—FWX did not land widespread critical acclaim.

The first time FWX graced my ears in full, its lack of progressive grandeur, namely in the histrionic solo department, took me aback. At the tail end of a career loaded with technical highlights and in a scene growing populated-to-bursting with descendants of the Dream Theater/Symphony X school of excess, Fates Warning built with a different kind of virtuosity—meticulous kit grooves, delayed chord loops, recursive and swelling melodies. In that lane, Matheos finds a kind of guitar-driven power that lands both more immediate in force and more playful in counterpoint layering than anything Fates Warning had produced since their landmark Parallels. The primary pattern of “Simple Human” crushes against doubling bass pulses and slinky, scattered high-frequency chord stabs; the doom-weighted drag of “Crawl” guides a laser-precise lead warble to crescendo; the high energy strum-stride of “Stranger (With a Familiar Face)”—FWX simply shouts its extremities where albums before it required a focused digestion.

But the shift from tactical flex serves twofold, with FWX riding a wave of emotion in a subdued manner, giving greater weight to its themes. Ray Alder had plenty already led his dramatic pipes to the softer identities of classic cuts like “Leave the Past Behind“2 (Parallels, 1991) or “Shelter Me” (Inside Out, 1993). Age graced Alder’s voice kindly, though, allowing him to find a lower register to inject increased doses of pathos into playful odes to depression (“Another Perfect Day”) and persistent negative thoughts (“Handful of Doubt”). Most importantly, time had also left scars enough to cap off FWX with one of Fates’ most beautiful tracks, “Wish,” where his pleading cry matches Matheos’ heartbeat-hum guitar pickings and mournful solo. In an album that already indulges in stellar songcraft, Alder’s success keeps FWX worth revisiting over and over.

As if this lineup for Fates Warning—the last of its kind as long-time drummer Mark Zonder, master of his craft, would not return for the 2013 follow-up—needed additional fuel for success, this streamlining approach yielded a timeless sound that I’ve been exploring for well over fifteen years. I’ve cried to FWX. I’ve also celebrated with FWX. I have loved and lost and loved again, watched people drift away while I blame myself or the world around me, finding solace in its dark and plaintive themes while enraptured by its dreamy and thundering soundscape. For a long time, FWX seemed like an unplanned farewell. And though Fates Warning has not officially hung up the spurs yet, “Wish” will always feel like a send-off filled not with regret but acceptance. That’s the beauty of iconic albums in our own listening history. Whether it’s what I need or what I want, spinning FWX turns any time into a time full of peak-quality tunes.

#2004 #2024 #AmericanMetal #FatesWarning #FWX #MetalBladeRecords #PorcupineTree #Portishead #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveRock #Radiohead #Rush #YerMetalIsOlde

Yer Metal Is Olde: Pain of Salvation – One Hour by the Concrete Lake

By Dolphin Whisperer

Music consumption looks much different today than it did in 1999. Hot new radio singles have become algorithmically or otherwise boosted pushes on major streaming services. Deluges of notifications from Bandcamp, Facebook/Instagram, and highly esteemed review sites have supplanted the physical zine scene.1 Various online chatter spaces with easy methods of sharing links,2 information, digital files have plowed over tape-trading, mix-disc swapping, and forcing your friends brazenly to plug into your extreme musical wiles. This is all to say that dates of releases find an easier path to peeping eyes, and archival data sits more completely from a variety of sources. So the oddity that Pain of Salvation’s sophomore album One Hour by the Concrete Lake emerged as the first available album for an majority of release regions just wouldn’t happen in the world of 2024.

Originally released in 1998 via Japanese label Avalon, One Hour wouldn’t make it to Europe and North America until 1999 via InsideOut Music, which also happened to be before that same entity re-issued PoS’s debut, Entropia (1997 release via Avalon). What’s important, though, particularly to the ethos of this kind of feature, is that One Hour explores themes of environmental waste and resource injustice that feel as applicable now as then, however idealistic in view—the liner notes even have environmental studies and other works cited. In this bleeding heart ethos and yet-to-crystalize PoS identity, One Hour, musically, flips about synth tones of metallic moods that fit more with peers of the day Dream Theater and Queensrÿche than earlier (or later) works do. But as the title track breaks way to “Inside,” there’s an undeniable rhythmic persistence that matches vocalist Daniel Gildenlöw’s chiseled and flamboyant persona that, for better or worse, defines all Pain of Salvation releases.

Yet, the idea that Pain of Salvation is a band more of a certain time in style defines the uniqueness that One Hour has to offer. Birthed in a 90s rock and metal scene forever changed by grunge, Pain of Salvation has often had a knack for working muddy and moody guitar sounds about their intricate and intimate works. Blowout tones force tracks like “New Year’s Eve,” “Water,” and “Black Hills” to crash against bright and melodic contrast, which allows triumphant crescendos to squirm into sonically moistened ears. And into these buttered receptacles PoS can also inject the out-of-place, late-album, mostly acoustic ballad “Pilgrim,” ripe with cheese and drama, with the preceding journey through auditory grit helping its brief run feel earned.

Bookended by companion pieces “Inside” and “Inside Out,” One Hour’s structure is not as adventurous as later material,3 but its traditional approach allows its departures and message to come through with an extravagant focus. The early “count this” challenge of “Handful of Nothing” and the last syncopated frenzy of “Shore Serenity” stand out like prog-pinched thumbs against the smoothed-out flow between other tracks. And, in turn, the simpler load of “Water” flowing with a natural grace into “Home” delivers tidy but still tempo-tricky in the high tide of Gildenlöw’s prog-hippie lamentations. One Hour forces itself to bend against its own ideas.

Likewise, One Hour by the Concrete Lake stands in a long line of Pain of Salvation excursions that are reactions to their own work and outside perceptions. With One Hour featuring more double-kick runs than any other album their future would hold, Pain of Salvation set out to show the world that, yes, you can call them metal. And as the proverbial tongue out to that same sentiment, its sappiest features aim to be a quirk in the whole to which one must grow accustomed. One Hour’s early placement in the band’s discography means that it didn’t have to make as hard a left turn as ’07’s Scarsick or the Road Salt albums later would. And in its youth, it playfully flips the sounds that built one side of progressive metal—the Gentle Giant prog mania, the Pink Floyd waning, the amp-toned riffs of classic rock—to be flashy in a way that most modern progressive music isn’t. So if you’ve never snorted the manbun metallers Pain of Salvation, consider One Hour by the Concrete Lake to be your way in like so many accidentally did way back when. And if you’ve overlooked this release in the wake of its more acclaimed follow-ups, well… don’t!4

#1998 #1999 #2024 #DreamTheater #GentleGiant #InsideOutRecords #OneHourByTheConcreteLake #PainOfSalvation #PinkFloyd #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveRock #Queensryche #SwedishMetal #YerMetalIsOlde

Yer Metal is Olde: Mastodon – Leviathan

By Saunders

Back in their early days, Atlanta’s progressive sludge juggernaut Mastodon could do little wrong. I remember perusing my local independent record store and being taken by the striking artwork and Relapse seal of approval on 2002’s debut Remission, roughly around the time of its release. After being crushed and destroyed by the iconic opening track, my love affair with Mastodon began. I have experienced the highs and lows of the band’s storied career; from the magical peak from Remission to 2009’s masterwork Crack the Skye, through the more streamlined and uneven period of the past decade-plus, turning these once critical darlings into a divisive, though wildly successful act. Yet I’ve never truly disliked a Mastodon album, enjoying their modern work on a lesser scale while acknowledging their peak days are well behind them. But it was their early material that solidified my love for the band. This is all a long-winded way to introduce their colossal sophomore opus and modern classic Leviathan as the latest inductee in the Halls of Olde to mark its twentieth anniversary.

Whereas the explosive Remission was a raw, ugly, abrasive slab of sludgy, grinding extreme metal with a subtly ambitious streak and technical edge, 2004’s Leviathan marked a more refined, adventurous, and progressive shift. Still boasting a heaving, thunderous punch, Leviathan’s musical template formed a perfect match with the album’s epic conceptual narrative, based on the classic novel Moby Dick by American writer Herman Melville. Aside from the increasingly varied moods, textures, and melodic and progified leanings, Leviathan’s double-pronged vocal assault began to evolve in appealing, contrasting ways, dabbling in cleaner vocal hooks and dynamic trade-offs. The vocal diversity was further bolstered by quality contributions from Clutch frontman Neil Fallon and Scott Kelly (Neurosis). Meanwhile, the intimidating instrumental skills of the band’s four members were pushed and taken to new levels, broadening their sonic palette and exploring rich, intricate progressive territories, from mellower channels to the predominant ironclad riffage and roughened, sludge-driven heft.

It’s easy to marvel at Leviathan’s attention to detail, ambitiously complex arrangements, emotional depth, and outstanding musicianship. However, these varied elements are always in service of quality, memorable songcraft, and grounded maturity, impressing so early in the band’s career. Raw, riffy, and adrenaline-spiking, “Blood and Thunder” is a classic opener and perfect introduction to the album, beefed up by a superbly burly guest performance by Fallon. Aside from the sprawling length, gorgeous melodies, and shifting tides of the epic “Hearts Alive,” for all its proggy intricacies and grand scale, Leviathan is a remarkably focused and compact album, packing tons of cool ideas into tightly packed and memorable tunes. Ruggedly built, catchy, and aggressive songs like “I am Ahab,” “Island,” “Iron Tusk” and the driving, thrashy “Aqua Dementia” contrast neatly against their melodic counterparts, such as the psych-drenched excellence and earworm hooks of “Seabeast,” featuring woozy melodies and a crushing climax. “Naked Burn” follows a similarly trippy trajectory to ‘Seabeast,” again showcasing the spidery axework of Brent Hinds and Brett Kelliher, while Hinds’ developing cleans deliver memorable vocal hooks.

Leviathan has an excellent flow, and the pacing and sequencing are fluid and slick, while the songwriting quality retains a high standard throughout. On their journey, Mastodon took some brave and challenging risks and leaps forward on Leviathan, without sacrificing heaviness or their rough-edged roots. In particular, the clean yet gritty production and unrefined cleaner vocal choices contain an endearing charm that holds up well twenty years after its release. Brann Dailor’s restlessly inventive drumming may not work for all listeners. Still, I remain in awe of his incredible chops and how they complement the technical and endlessly interesting guitar work, not to mention the mighty bellows and low-end muscle of Troy Sanders.

Musically, Mastodon branched well beyond sludge confines to embrace their progressive inclinations, classic rock influences, and southern roots, crafting tune after tune of intriguing, clever arrangements loaded with layers to peel back and reveal, along with a slew of instantly gratifying hooks. Brawny sludge rock punch intertwines with brainy prog metal and technical nuance to awesomely cohesive and memorable effect. Leviathan is a timeless album, a classic example of Mastodon operating at the peak of their powers, and arguably their crowning achievement. And like any album worthy of Yer Metal is Olde treatment, Leviathan remains an influential pillar that still sounds fresh, innovative, and exciting to this day.

#2004 #2024 #AmericanMetal #Leviathan #Mastodon #ProgressiveMetal #ProgressiveSludge #RelapseRecords #Review #Reviews #Sludge #YerMetalIsOlde

Yer Metal Is Olde: Opeth – Still Life

By El Cuervo

With a highly-anticipated new album due on the 22nd of November,1 there’s little introduction required for a progressive metal institution like Opeth. But on the eve of new material, I’m casting my ears back 25 years to the release that established these Swedes as one of the greatest bands in metal.2 I’ve loved most styles of Opeth and count a number of their records among my favorites ever. But, gun to my head, Still Life is at the top of my list. Is it the stylistic apex of their career? Possibly not; the mercurial Ghost Reveries represents the logical conclusion of their discography up to that point, seamlessly blending all facets of their sound that permeated their first decade of releases.

So why is it Still Life that sticks with me? It falls in the middle of Opeth’s progression from inception to apex and marks the start of what most fans would consider their classic run. As such, it finds itself stretched in two directions. While lesser bands would be pulled apart, what leaks out here is nothing but quality. The songwriting is smoother and more sophisticated than My Arms Your Hearse, while its rougher edge distinguishes it from the professional, Steven Wilson-backed production that defines Blackwater Park. In fact, the guitar tone here is the best in the Opeth catalog, rivaled only by Orchid.3 It’s this sweet spot—ornate, dynamic songs fused with death metal production and riffs—that encapsulates Still Life. Look no further than the multiplicitous, textured movement of “Serenity Painted Death.” As if its opening riff wasn’t good enough alone, the transitory passage that begins at 0:50, traversing a shredding lead, tempo shift, dramatic pause, and outrageous groove, demarcates a song of rare quality. And there are seven more minutes to follow, shuffling harmonized singing, delicate acoustics, and gripping story-telling.

Dynamic songwriting isn’t the only ‘best-in-catalog’ quality heard on Still Life. While the aforementioned groove excels, the first lead on “The Moor” and the guitars on the back half of “Face of Melinda” are worthy adversaries for some of the best riffs in metal. Meanwhile, the opening minutes of “The Moor” conjure the strongest atmosphere in the Opeth discography, with harmonized guitar whines and subtle acoustic melodies offering a mesmerizing introduction. “Face of Melinda” is my favorite Opeth track, bar none. It’s the archetypal Åkerfeldt tune, with spell-binding acoustic prettiness, poignant lyrics, and huge riffs. I wouldn’t like to guess how many times I’ve listened to it in total. But most of all, Still Life houses my favorite obscure progressive rock reference, in a band that’s famous for them. The acoustic lead on “Benighted,” while stunning, is a blatant rip-off from Camel’s “Never Let Go”.

I will also emphasize that although this piece has thus far cited examples from incredible songs, Still Life is an incredible album. While the individual melodies and instrumental parts that occupy these 62 minutes are excellent, it’s how these are woven into movements that eclipse the mere tracks that encase them. Still Life is symphonic in feel, compositionally closer to a classical symphony than an album of tracks. There’s a natural lilt in its progression, flowing within the seven songs, but more importantly, outside these seven songs too. It’s almost impossible for me to hit play from any point on the record and not then listen all the way through.

Romantics describe love at first sight; metalheads describe love at first listen. Opeth opened my ears to what was possible with music, and it was Still Life that opened my ears to Opeth. The completionism of Ghost Reveries engages my brain, but the aesthetic of Still Life engages my soul. There’s a big fat hole in the core of your being if you can’t engage with music like this. It’s what perfection sounds like.

#1999 #DeathMetal #Opeth #PeacevilleRecords #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #StillLife #YerMetalIsOlde

Yer Metal is Olde: Amorphis – Tales from the Thousand Lakes

By Grymm

Now here’s a desert island pick if there ever was one… Back in 1994, I discovered The Karelian Isthmus, the 1992 debut album by Finnish death metal upstarts Amorphis, at my local Newbury Comics. Upon hearing that its follow-up was due to drop soon, I played that album front-to-back on numerous occasions in preparation of its arrival, fully expecting a continuation of the debut’s doom/death musical motifs. Instead, the then-quartet added a keyboardist, discovered progressive rock, and took such a musical and lyrical left turn that not only turned heads, but also charted a path that would eventually lead Amorphis to a level of stardom not only in their homeland, but also well beyond that that would leave many other bands envious of their ascent and continued influence. This was no “second album slump.” This is Tales From the Thousand Lakes, highly influential, undoubtedly original, and today’s Halls of the Olde inductee.

Lyrically, as an impressionable teenager, I had questions. What happened to the Celtic and occult themes? Who was Sara, and why do I have to become a bird to enter, and escape, her murky house? What makes it so murky? Why am I forbidden to ever, in this world, allow my brother to water his warhorse upon the seashore?1 Why does my brother even need a fucking warhorse to begin with? Well, Amorphis veered away from the occult and Celtic-inspired war stories to focus on the Kalevala, Finland’s prized literary masterpiece collection of poems compiled by Elias Lönnrot, who would also inspire the likes of one J. R. R. Tolkien. Packed with stories full of mysticism, romance, and battles, the Kalevala made an incredible lyrical backdrop to the sudden about-face that Amorphis took on Tales.

How much of an about-face are we talking about here? Gone are the blast beats, the tremolo melodies, and Swedish-inspired death/doom of The Karelian Isthmus, and in their place were beautiful keyboard melodies, prog-like jams, and a pneumatically catapulted leap in terms of musicianship and songwriting… which is all the more amazing when you factor in the average age of the group at the time was somewhere around 20 years old. From the moment “Thousand Lakes” takes hold, the next 40 minutes fly by like the eagle in the album’s liner-note artwork. “Into Hiding” and album single “Black Winter Day” showcased clean singing by Kyyria frontman Ville Tuomi, a key element that would go on to become one of Amorphis’ trademarks for albums to come, and would also set a nice counterpoint to rhythm guitarist Tomi Koivusaari’s growls.

But what made the album such a tremendous standout in 1994 were the copious amounts of swirling, circular melodies dotted throughout. Whether they’re from keyboardist Kasper Mårtenson (“Thousand Lakes,” “Black Winter Day”) or lead guitarist Esa Holopainen (literally every song on here except for “Thousand Lakes”), those melodies oftentimes drift throughout the entire song, but not once do they feel like they outstay their welcome. In fact, they make each and every song soar through the clouds, helping to paint the fantastical words that both Lönnrot and Amorphis would sketch with their respective stories and music.

Tales From the Thousand Lakes would remain a one-of-a-kind album, not only for the listeners, but for the band as well. Half of the key players (Mårtenson, Tuomi, and drummer Jan Rechberger) would depart not long after, though Rechberger would return for 2003’s tepid Far From the Sun. With the exception of the immediate follow-up Elegy, Amorphis would step away from the works of Lönnrot until 2006’s Eclipse. Still, Tales From the Thousand Lakes is an impressive snapshot of a band stepping outside their comfort zone, and not only finding an enchanting world but also asking the listener to come along for the journey.

Steel Druhm

There are a few truly special metal albums that live close to rusty heart of Steel. One of the closest is Tales from the Thousand Lakes by Finnish titans Amorphis. Back in 1994, I hadn’t yet heard their The Karelian Isthmus debut when I stumbled upon a review of their follow-up via Metal Maniacs. The brief but positive description got me fired up to hear it and I set out to track it down. Whatever positive spin the review gave Tales in no way prepared me for the might and majesty of this sweeping piece of music. I still vividly remember the moment I first put the album on in my grad school apartment after it arrived from a metal import company and how that beautifully somber opening piano piece reverberated off the high ceilings of the old building I inhabited. It felt massive and timeless and it instantly drew me in. By the time the intro faded and “Into Hiding” finally hit, there would be no stopping the journey until the very last notes faded away.

That’s the real power of Tales. It’s one of those rare albums you want to spin from nuts to butt and appreciate the full journey and all its varied textures and moods. It’s as far from a singles album as it gets, and though the songs are universally stellar, they lose much of their power and mystique when listened to in isolation from the whole. The album has a magical ebb and flow, with the doom and death elements pulling against one another but finding true harmony in the conflict. The endlessly rolling, trilling guitar lines from Tomi Koivusaari and Esa Holopainen weave transcendent, ethereal spells that envelope the other instruments and flow directly into your heart and soul. The heavy moments feel all the more weighty because of how melodic much of the material is, and those death roars by Tomi bring the thunder from the Arctic tundras.

While the wonderful “Black Winter Day” has ever been the album’s “single” and a great way to draw listeners in, it’s not even one of the standout tracks here, which speaks highly of just how massive Tales really is. To me, the album’s crowning moments arrive with closer “Magic and Mayhem” with its mournful yet martial marching stanza that conjures images of warriors slogging through heavy snow and ice, to its artful blend of death metal and what could have been very cheesy 70s synth effects. It’s a juggernaut of a song and the perfect ending for the odyssey the album drags the listener through.

I’ve spun Tales countless times since that very first listen back in the winter of 94, and though I don’t break it out as often as I did 15-20 years ago, when I do it’s always like visiting a familiar and comforting world where everything exists in perfect synchronicity. That original aura and mystery still pulsate from the music and draw me in. Every single time. That makes for a truly special piece of metal art. If you haven’t heard Tales from the Thousand Lakes, may Wotan have mercy on your miserable poser soul, for I shall have none.

#1994 #Amorphis #DeathMetal #DoomMetal #Kyyria #ProgMetal #RelapseRecords #TalesFromTheThousandLakes #YerMetalIsOlde

AMG is 15 Years Olde!

By Carcharodon

Yes, that’s right, this little blog turns 15 today. On this very day 15 years ago, the first ever entry appeared on angrymetalguy.com, as The AMG shared very important thoughts on Amorphis and, um, MySpace. It seemed like a bit of a non-event at the time and, frankly, it was. It took 11 years(!) for anyone to even comment on it. Happily though, 15 years of beefin’ with Ripper Owens and zero private equity investment later, AMG Industries has not gone the way of MySpace. In fact, thanks to a lot of hard work and some brvtal sabbaticalizings—and a few grievous errors notwithstanding—it’s become a bit of Thing (like Yer Mom). And it’s a Thing we’re quite proud of (unlike Yer Mom).

Over the next two weeks, we’ll be running a series of features in which Melvins—the living dead and the happily departed—reflect on the many grave mistakes that led them to a life of servitude, slaving in the Skull Pit. We hope yYou will join us in wishing AMG a happy 15th, and help celebrate this little corner of the internet, which we’ve carved out through being too naïve to write only positive reviews.

Remember, we’ve been judging your taste since 2009. Thou Shalt Have No Other blogs!

#2024 #AMGTurns15 #Amorphis #BlogPost #blogsPosts #RipperOwens #YerMetalIsOlde