Now That’s What I Call 2017!

It’s been one hell of a year, not just for music, but in general. Christ it was tough going, but from this burlap sack shit came some golden discoveries, shared here because I discovered them this year, though they may have come out earlier, because that’s how music works.

Slowly Building Weapons – Sunbirds (Art As Catharsis)

This is hardly surprising as I did the write-up on it for Astral Noize magazine’s Top 20 of this year, but I was only able to do that because it was a truly staggering piece of work. Legions ahead of their 11 year old debut Nausicaa, Sunbirds was amazing partly because it got made at all, its imposing shadow writ gargantuan across my sonic earscape. An essential record for any number of reasons, if you don’t check this out you are a donkey.

OmAdvaitic Songs (Drag City)

Yes, it’s from 2012, but I didn’t spend any time with this masterpiece until this year, and it became the record I listened to the most without exception. From beginning to end, the spirit of Advaitic Songs fed directly into my bloodstream and fed my very being, its total dedication to what it was being majestically inspiring in itself. This is a tremendous example of one of those records that’s extremely easy to listen to but very hard to play, due in no small part to the perfect rhythmic presence of Emil Amos of Grails on drums. Transcendent.

Probably NotThe Same Pain (Circle House)

I caught this band at the Cavern in Exeter by accident, as I was there to see Dead Ground, who were also very good, but Probably Not were incredible. No banter, supremely intense and honest and with the songs to back up not facing the crowd, The Same Pain was a true joy to experience. The fact that they’d only been a band for 5 months by the time this record was made gave me hope; hope that bands like this could still form and make records. Honestly brilliant, and I can’t wait for more out of them.

Piss VortexFuture Cancer (Indisciplanarian)

A band that I listened to because of their ace/terrible name while trawling through videos from Obscene Extreme, this Danish quartet broke my face. Of the records I’ve heard, Future Cancer was a hair ahead of their other material, which is all excellent. A worryingly thrilling sound that owes as much to the likes of Breach as it does to crust, Coalesce and breakneck grind, I couldn’t recommend this highly enough to fans of extreme music if this was the only extreme band in existence. Staggering.

Kikagaku MoyoHouse In The Tall Grass (GuruGuru Brain)

Floating out of Japan with the grace of a muslin curtain, I discovered this fabulous team of throwbacks when I started getting back into Bandcamp again. There’s loads of top stuff on this label, but I spun House In The Tall Grass every day for a fortnight upon hearing it at first, and revisited it for the remainder of the year. Completely devoid of brutality in any form, this encapsulated everything I wanted from old psych, right down the production. If you’ve got a drive to take somewhere and you need to feel peace and excitement at once, this is the record for you. Great.

 

Convulsing/Siberian Hell SoundsSplit (Art As Catharsis)

The second entry from the Australian label in this list (who also put out Hashashin’s magnificent opus this year), this split was fucking outrageous. Listening to Convulsing’s Engraved Upon Bleached Bone first was like undergoing major surgery while getting a serious kicking, and I was genuinely concerned that this would be a one horse race, but Siberian Hell Sounds’ The Breath Of The Beast was equally enthralling and fierce, the 40 minute run time felt like about 60 seconds. 60 seconds in a burning building, but 60 seconds all the same. Colossal.

BeastwarsThe Death Of All Things (Destroy)

Directly responsible for restoring my faith in sludge and doom after a good couple of years chasing those musical dragons, the New Zealand quartet’s third record was an oddly elegant effort, with no dead wood and a welcome, likeable character. Broad of sound and with proper songsThe Death Of All Things reminded me of how I felt when I discovered Ahab’s game-changing The Divinity Of Oceans. A tremendous record to listen to when doing just about anything, the news of their singers’ ailing health and a subsequent Instagram post showing that they were back playing together was one of the best moments of the year. Super.

Hobo MagicThe World Today

This Australian trio delivered a massive shot in the arm despite their awful name. From the initial seconds of Follow The Holy Riff, this album delivered at least two trucks of The Goods, devoting its every moment to being as meatily rewarding as possible. Even I felt proud of this record and I had nothing to do with it. Resplendent in its hulking size, The World Today is pair of open arms hugging you into The Riff, not just the in melodic terms but in spirit. Giant.

DiocletianGesundrian

One of the most compelling listens I’ve had all year came to light in the last few days, a direct result of delving into the New Zealand scene through gig posters, blog posts and internet radio recommendations. Gesundrian is a monstrously oppressive sounding album, the fourth from these deathly kings. Blasting like cannon across a bloodied, muddy battlefield, Diocletian seem intent on demonstrating how it feels to be trampled by rampant horses through sound alone. Where many have tried and failed, Diocletian sound like heavy sword combat without a shred of irony but plenty of iron. Unyielding.

Hopefully you enjoyed my list, though it’s unlikely you would if you like Waylon Jennings or Lil Pump, but if that’s your jam, hey, you go.

The Way Of Things – First Kick At The Ball

The first episode of The Way Of Things was a triumph in itself; a distillation of no only my personal music history, but an introduction to the whole idea of this marvelous show and yes, it is god-damn marvelous. This began a year-long crusade for local bands, extremity, and the abolition of the notion of the guilty pleasure.

It also marked the beginning of a shift in my depression, my view of myself as a person of worth, and an untold amount of shit happening behind the scenes that I won’t mention here.

Review: Tammy King – Higher Paradise

Originally published by Fortitude Magazine. http://www.fortitudemagazine.co.uk.
0002704934_500
Recorded at Wolverhampton university, Higher Paradise is the debut solo EP by Tammy King. The 21 year old has recently been seen plying her trade on the X Factor tour and supporting agit-pop-amazon P!nk, following a bout of sessioneering. The Warwickshire native has a number of songs on YouTube,  showing her skill at singing covers.

More importantly, this era of her development shows her moving away from being a session/sideperson towards being an artist in her own right, something that has evidently been her focus since day one. A fairly bare-bones affair, with King accompanying herself for the most part, Higher Paradise contains 4 original compositions, two with a full band.

First things first-King has a stand-up voice. Lots of control and dexterity, and a fearlessness to go for the big intervals. Occasionally the guitar work falls short, as evidenced on the KT Tunstall-ish ‘You Can’t Take Me Alive’. The production is extremely uneven, as though it was simply recorded and not mixed. In truth, an artist who has plenty of studio and live experience shouldn’t have let this through, and the conveyed feeling is one of naivety and slapdashery.

‘Living In Disguise’ is a significantly improved showcase of Kings’ ability. Melodically more astute and aware, better balanced, and despite the low-rent lyricism, the verses are slow-burning and tense; less is definitely more in this case. As ‘Fossils’ stumbles into view, the slack-as-a-bag-of-ties playing starts to rear it’s head again. The backing track carries aBeverley-Knight-unplugged vibe, though the vocals sound like they were recorded in a different studio with other people.

Final track ‘Scent On Your Skin’ weighs in with slide guitar, tenderly muted country drums, and a well-judged vocal performance from King. Four songs of this calibre would have been great-King sounds much more comfortable and personable in this style than reaching awkwardly for second hand gospelisms.

There is absolutely no question that King has a serious voice, capable of a great deal, but is hamstrung in this instance by an unforgivably incompetent production and some disappointing musicianship. The whole recording has a hesitant air, which may stem from first-time jitters about her own material. There’s an abundance of natural skill and a proper set of lungs to build on here, but Tammy needs to decide who she is.

Watch for future changes, as there’s a warm, gentle voice underneath these songs.