Posts Tagged ‘Sludge’

The second record from German sludge/doom band Turin Horse, ‘Prohodna’, follows last’s year’s debut ‘Uncleared’ with more thunderous riffing, oily atmospheres and a powerful vocal performance, but has it got what it takes to take Turin Horse out of the shadows? It is out now through the band’s Bandcamp page.

The churning, sludgey horrors of the title track immediately comes grinding forward, with shredded vocals roaring over a tar thick riff. Hypnotic dirges of nasty, blackened doom loom and lurch from the darkness, while ghostly clean guitar floats amongst the miasma, creating brief interludes of light and space. The majestic heave of ‘Every Seed Every Stone’ is glorious, while the dissonant ‘I Am the Pain’ adds a new, uncomfortable edge. The thick low end helps with the aural density and the visceral roars that accompany tracks like ‘A Hunger’ really add to the nastiness.

‘Prohodna’ is a thunderous, constant barrage of harsh vocals, churning EyeHateGod riffs and a poisonous, smoggy atmosphere. Turin Horse are violent, smothering and raw, and this record does everything to hit that home hard. There are a few moments of respite (the title track), but they are as dark and mesmerising as the brutality. I love this.

Crawling for Carrion - Rake and Roads Artwork.jpg

Crawling for Carrion are a UK based sludge project, and their debut release is a two track EP made of covers. ‘Rake and Roads’ reintreprets ‘Rake’ by Townes Van Zandt and ‘Roads’ by Portishead, attempting to draw out the innate heaviness of them both. It is out now through Giganto Records, owned by the brainchild behind this project, multi-instrumentalist Chris West.

Now, these are two songs I have never heard, so I’m interested in what Crawling for Carrion do here. ‘Rake’ is a rumbling, soulful beast with a gravelly, crooning vocal performance from guest Jake Harding of Grave Lines. While not as heavy as I had anticipated, there is something really magical and uplifting about these poetic lyrics winding its way. The sinister layer of murk surrounding ‘Roads however feels much more in line with what you’d expect Portishead to sound like, slid through sludgy filters. Grinding riffs murmur under a ghostly performance by Vodun vocalist Chantal Brown, making this a very ethereal moment.

I like how Crawling for Carrion have done these tracks, and how they’ve worked hard in not only reimagining the originals but adding enough to create something new and interesting. ‘Roads’ is the better of the two, but this is a fine little release that is worth looking out for.

Mule Skinner - Airstrike

NOLA hardcore deathgrinders Mule Skinner left a 20 plus year gap between their underappreciated debut ‘Abuse’ and their latest slab of nastiness, ‘Airstrike’, and it feels like they haven’t missed a beat. An album that oozes with a confident and almost maniacal edge, it is out now through F.O.A.D. Records. Prepare yourself for half an hour of venomous power.

Savage violence is the name of the game here, with opener ‘Suicide Vest and the title track immediately striking you firmly across the face. Blasting carnage with hardcore roars pepper your ears, while the whole shebang is coated in this horrid, Lousiana murk. They’ve inherited that NOLA grime that has become somewhat of a trademark of that city’s music scene, and while the quick parts are killer, it is the descent into roiling, uncomfortable groove that really strikes me. ‘Chocking Agent’ gets both parts perfectly, while the razor sharp ‘Battle Worshiper’ comes with a layer of rust, designed not just to lacerate but also to infect.

A pioneer in the fertile breeding grounds of nihilism that NOLA became, Mule Skinner are as important as EyeHateGod and Soilent Green in this part of the world. ‘Airstrike’ should give them the platform to prove it once more. Imagine Terrorizer or Brutal Truth but covered in tar, and you’ll know what Mule Skinner are all about. Excellent stuff.

Dark, noisy sludgelords Vor have dragged themselves from the swampy, Spanish underground to bring us ‘Depravador’, a two man journey of apocalypse through music. Abrasive and violent, we are brought this latest release by Third I Rex Records.

The opening track showcases immediately the potency of this drums and bass combo, with dizzying low end throbbing with filthy, fuzzy tone. Hatred fuelled shrieks leap from behind each horrifying riff but this isn’t merely directionless noise. The grinding grooves of ‘Black Goat’ bring a very EyeHateGod vibe, while the crusty ‘Cudgel’ could sit comfortably on a Black Flag record. Vor’s music is diverse and heavy as fuck, never falling into one trick pony territory. Sludge meets noise meets hardcore punk attitude and the collision is nuclear.

The merciless, face destroying groove that permeates the filth encrusted monolith ‘Daga’ is only rivalled by the shrieking brutality of closer ‘Dark Fraga’. ‘Depravador’ is a record that pulses with a miasmic, tortured soul. It isn’t easy to categorise what Vor do, but it isn’t difficult to describe it. They contort, they disturb, they smother, they fucking rule.

Bodies on Everest - A National Day of Mourning

British noise/sludge/drone enthusiasts Bodies on Everest have released this… this monstrous beast called ‘A National Day of Mourning. An abrasive mix of noise, drone and miserable sludge all compacted into one, it plows a new furrow in the search for extreme music’s farthest reaches. It is out now through Third I Rex Records.

Opener ‘Unreleaseddeathvideo.flac’ hums ominously, building towards a crumbling, cacophonous conclusion. Imagine what the opening of Hell might sound like, and you’re close. Apocalyptic samples float amongst the crackling feedback, while a clutching hand reaches fpr a thread of your psyche, ready to unravel it as the oppressive ‘Tally of Sevens’ crawls on. Imagine the blackened drone of Sunn0)))) melting into the most choking of Godflesh’s works and you’d be close. Imagine the rumble of Conan but filtered through tar and a black hole. Imagine Killing Joke and Iron Monkey make a record together, and you’d get the insistent nihilism of ‘Suspicious Canoe’.

Keep imagining, but you’ll never quite get close enough to really classify this aural miasma. The awesome crush of ‘Tally of Sevens’, the sinister storytelling of the monolith ‘Gold Fangs in Enemy Territory’, the ‘man in a robot insane asylum’ creeps of ‘Shotgun or Sidearm’; this is a record like nothing you’ve ever experienced. By the end of the mind crippling closer ‘Who Killed Yale Gracey’, you’ll never be the same. You will, however, be reaching for the play button just one… more… time…