22 - Flux (2010)

Panic! At the Disco are a fun and catchy, yet sentimental and consistently grabbing band. Meshuggah are the near antithesis of everything previously mentioned: dark and heavy, but still (ball)grabbing, and with their own brutal, manmade representation of what evil can sound like. Understand me when I (and many internet goers) describe this band as "Panic! meets Meshuggah." There's an inherent energy here: in both the singer's voice and his phrasing, the guitar and bass lines (and their near-constant duel for the limelight), the syncopated hand patterns of the drummer, and the absolutely driving and pulsing rhythms created by all of it together; but what really makes me love this band is the weird knack they have for seeming both robotic (those rhythms) and absolutely human (that vocalist). While they never, ever reach evil status, the sound that 22 create dabbles equally in the netherworldly, effectively creating some kind of spiritual experience... or at least that's what they seem to be going for. I'll buy it.

Note: Physical copies of anything by this band are nigh impossible to find for the time being. Rest assured, this rip sounds absolutely fine, and will work in any (i.e., most) media player, including iTunes (as it is Apple's native format). V0 will be up... soon.

@Avg. 261 AAC (.m4a)

Last Chance to Reason - Level 2 (2011)

Get it while it's hot, folks. The first real gem of 2011.

I tend to post these blurbs in a hurry, and for no real reason. I feel rushed, though I'm only answering to myself and keeping to an extremely loose "schedule" that only I, myself, have made, and that's never been indelibly engrained into or on to anything, anywhere, ever. Once I start writing one of these things, my brain kickstarts an invisible timer, and if I haven't vaguely gotten what I want to say about a specific band or album into a word document by the time that timer hits its double-zeros... well, I suppose that's when that "very specific danger" that the OCD-laden hold themselves as submissives to appears in my itinerary, threatening to ruin my sunny day.

That's not happening this time.

No, I really want to say a lot of things about this album, but even if I don't, I want to leave you with a sense of what I feel it is. Level 2 isn't just a slab of metal--it's something that each of us experiences, time and time again, during our most translucent moments: a very resolute... something. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it's undoubtedly some not-quite-lucid-or-tangible sense of power. As an example: I tend to grin like an asshole whenever I feel absolutely confident, no matter who's around me; and I grin that very same grin whenever I spin this album. The way it opens, the way it climaxes, and the way it ends are all just so analagous to the human condition in its most triumphant crises. If you're wondering what that means, spin this one on an extra-hardy cardio workout or during your very own cop-chase--you may, then, have an idea.

The perfect digital marriage of Between the Buried and Me and Cynic.

@V0

Kaddisfly - Discography (2002-2007)

I love this band. I really fucking adore this band. My inner eight year-old suddenly bursts forth in a frenzy of adventurous glee and seafaring surmise every time I spin Set Sail the Prairie; and whenever I hear Buy Our Intention..., a slightly younger conjectured child shows himself still, with that same gleeful expression eclipsing his face, but now with a newfound sense of green-thumbed innocence. Kaddisfly, to me, are a denouement, wrought from the idea that music can possess its own spirit, with no fear of undending ambition.

However pretentious and schoolgirl-like I may sound, Kaddisfly are the only band that, after years of listening and loving, still incite me to explore their wondrous world.

2002 - Humania @192

2003 - Did You Know People Can Fly? @192

2005 - Buy Our Intention; We'll Buy You a Unicorn @V0: Part 1 & Part 2

2006 - The Four Seasons @V2

Note: Apparently I don't know how to properly zip albums with the words "sail" or "prairie" in them, so the posting of this band's most recent opus has been delayed by way of God paying me back for all those nights of faking altruism to impress women. --But I'm not taking "Discography (2002-2007)" out of this post's title because I'm laz--I mean, because for some reason I can't. Yes, Blogger is the only one to blame here.

Painted in Exile - Revitalized (2009)

The words that, to me, accurately relate my feelings for this three-song'd twenty-seven minute EP, just aren't springing to mind. Had I written this while it was still fresh to my ears, I might have gotten something slightly more convincing written down here, but I guess this is God's way of kicking me in the balls for never, ever, under any circumstance, posting in even half of a scheduled routine. But anyway. . .

This is good. None of Painted's peers have ever done anything quite like Revitalized. Instead of being brutal, it's heavy-hitting; instead of being wank-y, it's just kind of over-indulgent, but backed by a gentle taste. If you've ever wondered what Edge of Sanity, Persefone, or Disillusion might sound like if they went deathcore, this is probably a close heir.

Note: The general sound on this album isn't quite "par quality," which is easily its worst aspect, but this is a V0 rip--trust me, I was there.

Fun-fact: "Revitalized" is misspelled on the actual front cover. That's a post-worthy anecdote, right?

@V0

The Pax Cecilia - Blessed are the Bonds (2007)

Like the last post, this album belongs on a plateau of good things to come from post-rock in the last few years. Most of the more underground Urban Outfitter-inclined music fans have heard it, and it's probably even somehow overrated by those same rabid groups, but fuck me if this really isn't essential in some way or another. I'm definitely exaggerating, but take that last sentence with only half a grain of salt. Blessed are the Bonds is a fantastic album, chock full of strained passages and the kind of desperation only a dying non-theist knows.

One difference to note between this album and the last, however, is that they're almost complete opposites of one another. These Monsters... was relatively subdued, particularly in the climaxes, while this one thrives on them and emerges from "The Hymn" with the "Most Intense Post-Rock Album" award. For anyone who loves post-rock with tons of experimental and ambient flourishes, and maybe a dash of that screaming stuff.

@320: Part 1 & Part 2

These Monsters... - These Monsters... (2006)

These Monsters... is, at least to me, one of the better things to emerge from the post-rock genre in the last few years, albeit one with an unusual vibe. Every track brings to mind something in-between weird dreamscapes and green oceans: it can't decide on whether it wants to soothe or cause trouble. It could be the electronica-tinged percussion, or the Deku horn-like saxophone riffing its way into your nightmares. Either way, they're both completely at odds with the never-relieved and ever-flowing pace of the music itself. Yeah, that's it. Flow is something this album has too much of. The climaxes aren't particularly climactic, but they just keep going, and flowing, anyway, without consent.

For anyone who loves mood-setters and the more brooding types of post-rock. I would say steer clear of sunny days with this one, but nah. You decide.

Note: Two-second gap between tracks 1 and 2. It bothers me too.

@256

Kong - Snake Magnet (2009)

Been anxiously awaiting this one's arrival in my mailbox, and wadda-ya-know. Kong plays this weird blend of grungy post-hardcore and frailed-at-the-edges sludge with mathy riffs tossed in for good measure. Once it comes together, it kind of sounds like the homeless child of Hella and The Melvins with yelled, mostly nonsense lyrics. In fact, that thing I wrote for Ehanre's The Man Closing Up applies here, too. But that's all irrelevant. This album is awesome, and I can't get enough. Most definitely destined for my Best-of-2009 list.

Buy this album
@V0

Ehnahre - The Man Closing Up (2008)

This album is ugly. Imagine a giant, rustic elephant with the torn flesh of a once-living lion hanging from its lips, bulbous black eyes dried to a crevice, and skin blistered to pus-filled pools, and you'll have a rough idea. Some truly raw, unsettling stuff here. Not for a sunny day.

Note: Don't forget your headphones.

@V0