The Return of the Gangsta, Thanksta…The Gorge, Seven)Suns and Cleric (Live Review)

After an extended break due to graduate school, teaching and writing academic things (woo!), I have decided to return to the game…of unpaid, thankless blogging.  Such competition.  Much fun.  Okay, bad meme and misconstrued references aside, I’m glad to be back.  These past couple years have been filled with concerts and various musical adventures, so strap in! It’s going to be…a ride.

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Because apparently we’re about to go punk.  And that means skateboarding images! Because I’m one of those “damn millennials.”

I’m going to call these past couple years, at least from my super relevant perspective, the United States era of sludgy, grimy and depressing as shit doom, funeral doom, and stoner metal.  Pallbearer, Bell Witch (Mirror Reaper is album of the decade, change my mind), Mastodon, Sleep (new tour!) and all those masturbatory Black Sabbath startups…each have pulled, or continue to pull, the boundaries of metaldom back to its slow, riff driven blues and stoner roots.  Specifically, in St. Louis, there is an interesting development of punk attitude and grungy, working class, almost Birmingham-esque live trend, providing a widening space for road warriors Weedeater, Corrosion of Conformity, Eyehategod, Black Label Society and, most recently, Pallbearer.  Because, when the levee breaks…

Okay, so, in this scene, where does the jazz, the technicality, the Djent! belong?  Apparently in the St. Louis, Cherokee coffee house, Foam.

“What a transition!” — Nobody

I had the pleasure of attending the Cleric headlining tour, opened by tech metallers, The Gorge, and string quartet, Seven) Suns, at the Foam coffee house in St. Louis.  That’s right,  a coffee house.  Metal and hipsters.  Fuck yeah!  The venue is intimate — I couldn’t think of a better word for small — and run by some fabulous baristas/bartenders.  I only wish I got their names.  Poor journalism on my part, but oh well.  What’s important is the beers were cheap, the coffee hot, and the atmosphere warm, inviting.  Perfect for some twisted, weird ass metal.

Disclaimer: A major label needs to sign The Gorge.  Seriously.  If some Nuclear Blast intern is looking for some mobility, here’s a tip: put The Gorge on the executive’s table and drop that fucking mic in your new office space.

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Did I mention this was at a coffee house? Look at that face…

I’ve been following The Gorge for about a year now.  I saw them open for Weedeater back in, I believe, August 2017.  I’m too lazy to look so just take my word for it.  The Gorge adds some melody to the djenty meshuggah framework, all the while maintaining a jazz-conscious feel for groove.  Their live performance is cathartic, culminated in politically-driven and emotionally jarring lyrics.  I mean, their album art for Thousand Year Fire is a drawing of the Cahokia Mounds!  How else to bring attention to the voices of a colonized and destroyed culture than through some djenty, emotionally jarring metal? So, in a postcolonial perspective, besides the album being written and performed by a juxtaposed personality of bearded and clean cut white dudes, The Gorge brings some cultural and political significance to the table.  Told ya I’ve been in academia for a hot minute.  Don’t be surprised when I go there, metal bros.

String quartet, Seven)Suns, added discomfort to this cathartic atmosphere.  One of my biggest complaints regarding the venue is the layout.  There is no “stage,” but who can blame em? It’s a coffee house. However, it’s kinda hard to see the performers, especially when the audience, including myself, are mostly around or over six feet tall.

A toast for the short folks and those who would rather sit at the bar! 

String quartet, Seven)Suns has worked with Dillinger Escape Plan, and have an energetic live presence, breaking dissonant and melodic runs with passionate grunts that do not feel out of place or forced.  Each string could be heard, and I’m not gonna lie, I have a soft spot for the cello.  Its sound is just too damn beautiful for its own good.  If I were to describe Seven)Suns’ stage presence, it would be creepy.  Beautifully unsettling.  A nice transition from The Gorge’s brutality into Cleric’s…I don’t even know.

I’m not gonna lie, I only started listening to Cleric earlier in the day.  I heard their name cast around in internet forums of the most obscure and pretentious sort, but, as usual, I cast them into a general, maybe later part of my brain.  But, Fuck, was I blown away.  As soon as Larry Kawartowitz set up his fucking obnoxiously large china symbol, I knew the room was in for an experience.  Drum lord, Lars Ulrich, would faint at the sight of that behemoth.

I can hardly describe Cleric’s sound.  A little Gorguts here; a little Frank Zappa there.  And a large helping of general holy shittery that is just Cleric.  Keyboardist, vocalist, second base, guitarist — pretty much everythingist — Nick Schellenberger took full advantage of the space.  His dual microphone rig and passionate stage presence brought even the sound guy (mustachio’d, dressed, roller bladed, and fuzzy hat guy, you the best) to the front, headbanging and bouncing.  This band is tight, folks.  Think of a metaphor for tight and Cleric will shatter it with two synchronized doom chords.  The bass (Daniel Kennedy) and lead/rhythm guitarist (Matt Hollenberg) were synched perfectly with the drums, casting aside count downs in favor of good ol’ fashioned, felt nonverbal communication.  And, punctuating the evening, Cleric played an extremely emotive rendition of, I believe, “The Treme,” a nine minute piece transitioning from technical what the fuckery to an existential sense of doom.  Incredible work from everyone involved.

Again, this venue creates and maintains community.  The openers, the staff, the small, but passionate crowd, were caught in Cleric’s strange, chaotic apocalypse.  Check out their groundbreaking underground album, Regressions sometime for a general feel before the record goes out of print.  Also, make a trip to Foam if you find yourself in the neighborhood.

Next week:  Weedeater (Round Two)

Final Verdict:  I’m done assessing shit.  Just take what you want from the review.  The venue was accommodating.  The show was kick ass.  

 

 

 

 

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Review: Paradise Lost – The Plague Within

After a series of more commercial airings, Paradise Lost returns to their gothic/doom roots with their 2015 LP release, The Plague.

Doom metal is one of those metal subgenres that should stand higher amongst the metal community.  Black Sabbath basically coined its inception in Master of Reality: slowed, downtuned tempo, and lyrics exploring melancholic subjects, i.e. “Into the Void.” However, the genre remains a backdrop to the waves upon waves of hardcore/metalcore/posthardcore/whatever-core outfits.  But, that’s okay.  Over here at Reviews From the Other Side, that’s just the way we like it.  At least the doom movement produced some of the heaviest sounds in existence, if not in sound, then attitude.  Even HIM — or more specifically, Ville Valo — tries, every now and then, to mention their “doomy” sound.  To which Electric Wizard comes out, and with three earth shattering notes, sends the Hot Topic fiends back to their holes.  I guess it’s an understatement to say the entire doom genre is respected, but popular? Okay, that’s enough ramblings with the word doom.  Well, maybe a couple more times.

Out of the doom movement came a trifecta of sad sacks, who aspired for melody atop the mother genre’s head lowering riffs:  Paradise Lost, Anathema, and My Dying Bride.  Coining “gothic metal,” Paradise Lost stands as one of the most inspirational doom metal outfits of the 90’s.  The band always walked the lines of gothic metal in albums Icon and, you guessed it, Gothic.  They solidified that desire with Draconian Times.  As their songwriting matured, the band then explored more commercial territories, leaving behind the slow, plodding death/doom riffs and growling vocals of their namesake.  Even vocalist, Nicholas Holmes, started to stagnate, his performances uninspired and directionless.  He’s always been too Hetfield for my taste, so it’s not like I listened to Paradise Lost for their powerful, soaring vocals.  2015, however, saw a return to form.  With The Plague Within, Paradise Lost crushed metaldom with lead single, “Beneath Broken Earth,” a straight, doom metal track serving as a memento to the despair of the 90’s death/doom movement.  The single promised slow, heavy, dark.  And, boy did they follow up.

The Plague Within is a record blessed with an ear for its fanbase.  Straight from the get go, “No Hope In Sight” alludes to Draconian Times, with poison-laced guitar melodies and an overarching doom riff.  Short, sweet, hopeless. That’s the Paradise Lost fans were screaming for.  That’s the record they got, well, with a little — and by that, I mean a lot — of exploration and experimentation.  Now, for a band as experienced as Paradise Lost, I originally expected more evolution, something fresh separating The Plague Within from its predecessors.  Sure, there’s the return of Holme’s growls, even some double bass and plodding tracks throughout, but the album doesn’t progress musically.  The band promised a return album years ago.  Perhaps, the band discovered, four albums later, they were alienating their fanbase.  Or, probably the easiest guess, perhaps the record label was tired of their shit.  Either way, all I can say is: welcome home.

By the time “Eternity of Lies” hit its climactic, catchy midsection, I remembered why I listened to Paradise Lost in the first place.  Paradise Lost embodies the romanticism of goth and buries it behind layers death.  This binary of musical emotions, complete with powerful drums and the occasional piano melody, returns in The Plague Within, ultimately sounding more Paradise Lost than, say Believe In Nothing. You get every metal influence in this album, from the brutality of “Flesh From Bone,” to, as previously stated, pure, unadulterated doom in “Beneath Broken Bone.”  “Eternity of Lies” is a future Paradise Lost classic, embodying the band’s trademark descent into beauty.  For the first time, I actually enjoyed Nick Holmes’ studio performance.  Throughout the album, the veteran vocalist tackles multiple styles, showing versatility not seen since pre-Icon. Yes, his growls have aged, but what can you expect from an aged growler.

Axemen Greg Mackintosh and Aaron Aedy are the unsung heroes of Paradise Lost.  “No Hope In Sight,” for instance, exploits the band’s mastering of the acid riff, a “less is more” approach.  They play off each other seamlessly, and when they find that “sweet” progression, they attack until the music bursts with catharsis.  Go back and listen to “Yearn For Change,” from Draconian Times — I apologize for the frequent mentions — and you’ll see exactly what I’m talking about. It’s only fitting that closer, “Return to the Sun,” pushes the album to its creative heights, highlighted by Holmes’ emotional clean/harsh vocal combo.  Oh, and I guess the choir and symphony helps.  All around, a complete, metal performance.

Overall, Paradise Lost’s The Plague Within succeeds in its nostalgic quality, a worthy return to form after a set of directionless releases.  Although the album lacks musical progression, the band continues to remind listeners of their influence on the metal community.  A solid production, through and through.

RATING:  4/5 

All rights, properties, and content of the featured image belongs to its owner.  Image found at http://www.apochs.net/paradise-lost-reveal-the-plague-within-artwork-tour-dates/.  I have, in no way, used said image for profit.