Chrome - Feel It Like A Scientist (2014)

One hour of sheer outer-space energy, frenzy, and mass mirage, brought to you by the masters of mania themselves -- Chrome. With "Feel It Like A Scientist" Helios Creed delivers the most thrilling brand of Chrome's music since the passing of Damon Edge. The brand new line-up consists of: Lou Minatti (guitar), Steve Fishman (bass), Anne Dromeda (background vocals), plus two of the previous members; Aleph Omega (drums: "Ghost Machine", "Angel Of The Clouds"), and Tommy Grenas (keyboard: "Retro Transmission", "Tidal Forces (No Humans Allowed Pt II)", "Ghost Machine", "Angel Of The Clouds"). And surprisingly the re-formed ensemble captures the core of Chrome's sound as old-school, genuine, and with all its rawness and experimentality -- it's all there with a touch of fresh ideas, like female background vocals.

The title suggests a realist, or say a naturalist perspective. But "Feel It Like A Scientist" is exactly on the contrary, a record of surreality -- a sonic thin ice on which Darwin is skating. The paradox of the real/unreal with Chrome might as well epitomize a notion recurring in two other cinematic and psychoanalytic parallels: Cronenberg's channeling of reality within the unreal ("The Brood", "Dead Ringers") and Lacan's the Real. In an interview regarding "The Fly", Cronenberg was asked about whether he would direct a love-story without 'the gore', 'the effects', and 'the horrifying aspect', and his answer was: "This is the realistic story I think, to me this is a real love-story... For me this is naturalism." The same thing can be said about Chrome. Chrome created what later came to be known as acid punk and cyber-punk, and the word 'punk' here says exactly why we can't simply call their music surreal -- this is not hippie psychedelic rock, this has to do with the reality within the unreal.

In the title of the record there is a second curiosity: How is one supposed to simultaneously be a scientist and feel? Feeling is sensual after all and opposed to the rational mode of thinking often associated with science. The naive way of answering this would be approaching it as if it was just an odd simile. After all there are academicians who easily come up with the word 'conceit' in case of a problematic metaphor. But right there, we are approaching the Lacanian Real -- the impossibility of it to come alive through language being the clincher. Needless to mention, as with the previous times I've made use of Lacan's theories, here too I'm not employing the Real on a psychopathological level, nor am I to coalesce it with the Marxist theory as Žižek does; but I am rather applying it to this particular work of art, so the entire process can be observed as being utilized in the Symbolic Order. Why is then that so we can't have sensation and science at once? Why does the very notion seem 'paradoxical'? the answer lies in the Imaginary, as well as the Symbolic; the other two Orders of the psyche prior to the Real.

In the realms of these two Orders, which are of course themselves inside the realm of the Real -- their substratum, one is always bound to either make an imaginary choice of one attribute --take science par exemple-- with a total disregard for the other -- take sensation, or, to make the distinction clear with a help from language. Let's put it this way: in the Symbolic, language tells you it's impossible to have both sensation and rationale in one place, as the two words clearly bear animosity toward each other, and in the Imaginary, you make a choice between the two yourself. The realm of the Real is though at odds with the rest: there is exactly where both attributes are present and neither is ignored, and there is the place to 'feel it like a scientist'. Now, I don't want to babble how art is always a means for the impossible, because it certainly isn't at most of the times, but it more or less becomes so with the artist overcoming transcendental forgeries and frauds --Buddhism included-- and it is certainly the case with Chrome.

On "Feel It Like A Scientist", Chrome take the listener on a sonic ride, a ride because there is the least tendency for inertia on this record, 'Slave Planet Institution' and 'Nymph Droid', the closer of the record, being the only exceptions. Of course this is not to be mistaken with the beat, which for instance bands like Wooden Shjips incorporate. The beat here is relentless and it follows the listener throughout every song, this indeed resembles a hunt, or even a haunt; the beat is soulless, proto-industrial, proto/post-punk, and so regardless of how sick and twisted the imagery of the lyrics, vocals, and guitar riffs are, it continues to advertise its dehumanized dance. Further, the darkness conceived in this record is an alien darkness, and the pillars supporting this mass structure are the funereal psychedelia of the guitar/synth effects -- the flagrant de-morphing of the vocals. This is the record to once more remind Killing Joke fans who the forerunners of fear in punk are, and the record to bowl over a couple of contemporary indie/space rock listeners.

Swans - To Be Kind (2014)

"The Taste for Nothingness

Dull soul, to whom the battle once was sweet,

Hope, who had spurred your ardour and your fame

Will no more ride you! Lie down without shame

Old horse, who makes his way on stumbling feet.

Give up, my heart, and sleep your stolid sleep.

For you old rover, spirit sadly spent,

Love is no longer fair, nor is dispute;

Farewell to brass alarms, sighs of the flute!

Pleasures, give up a heart grown impotent!

The Spring, once wonderful, has lost its scent!

And Time engulfs me in its steady tide,

As blizzards cover corpses with their snow;

And poised on high I watch the world below,

No longer looking for a place to hide.

Avalanche, sweep me off within your slide!"

I wanted to quote the Baudelaire poem since I believe once read without its Romantic implications of the awe for nature, it would perfectly maintain what I've interpreted to be Gira's current philosophy, means, and perception of music — that is the avalanche, the flow of absurdity, and the Will to null. Jennifer Church; who performed guest vocals on "To Be Kind" - after being mistaken for Annie Clark by both fans and the press at the release of 'A Little God In My Hands' — when asked about what she was singing, referred to something radically interesting that I'd like to relate to what has been just said.  "The vocal line…hrmmm I suppose you could call it “Gira-nese” - It’s mysterious - and I think he likes it that way - (a little godlike chant in your head perhaps…)," she replied. And there exactly lies the answer. In fact, there are no words involved, there are no lyrics, there is "no story to tell" like Francis Bacon once said; leaving out 'Just A Little Boy'.

Of course, one might ask what about Gira's own vocal lines, he does sing in proper English after all. First, this is by no means abstract music or — in the case of the lyrics — one-hundred percent Dadaist like those of Kurt Schwitters' in "Ursonate", this of course deals with inclusive songwriting as much as it deals with the exclusive. And secondly, I would like to refer to the point of creation of some of these seemingly sound lyrics, which at times — as stated by Gira himself in a number of interviews — is rooted in not an ordinary say, muse, but rather nothing at all. "I didn't have words, and I just started singing and at one point...I see it all I see it all I see it all...kind of seemed to fit with the kind of the spiritual aspect of the music" says Gira on who 'The Seer' is. This, whether call it method evolves into a more vulgar approach with "To Be Kind", as Gira frees his voice more and more throughout almost every song on the record; a possible upshot of their heavy touring and the various experimentations they did during each performance of the same song.

At this point, it is more or less clear that as Gira was inspired by Sade and Genet during the early Swans days; the time he also spent writing short stories that Hubert Selby, Jr. would later call them "hallucinatory" among other things. He is now relatively (or even more intensely) driven by what Heidegger called anxiety — an anxiety formed by the fear of nothingness, death. In the same interview, Gira clearly states that it is not the environment that inspires him but "the fear of death". Now, this anxiety is not the anxiety one might usually think of; that is, the anxiety the so-called psychotherapist would want to exorcise. This isn't being depressed in the sense most people tend to think either, and as a matter of fact, such thinkings are often implanted by the same, forgive me saying, pseudo-psychoanalysts. This is the very essence of living, and in this case, writing songs. And in the case of Swans, it can relate to the idea of the Will to null as well. The songs can be seen as manifestations of this nothingness that death brings with itself. One would want to become God and one would want to imitate death too.

Still and all, "To Be Kind" can be also seen as a more 'mild' effort in contrast to "The Seer". That statement might seem to contradict what I've said earlier about the vulgarity of the vocals, and it sure does. Yet the vocals tell but one side of the story. On the sonic side, "To Be Kind" uses the same formula "The Seer" did; the embracing of the lengthy, organic, and improvisational composings, contrasted with a number of more accessible, shorter songs, with the single difference that in "To Be Kind" those of the latter tend to be more groove-oriented and less startling compared to, say, their counterparts in "The Seer". The lengthy ones still remain as agonizing, though. And most of them offer a good deal of brand-new sections in comparison to their previous versions, which you might have heard before either on "Not Here / Not Now" or during one of the live performances.

Talking of previous versions of some of the songs, it would be relatively curious to hint at the unfolding of Swans' each composition, which has been revolving around the short tunes Gira writes on his acoustic guitar — since "My Father Will Guide Me Up A Rope To The Sky". The process follows with the rest of Swans accompanied with Gira himself initiating a long voyage, deep into the unknown, improvising and jamming around each of those acoustic pieces during the rehearsals and even live gigs. The function of multi-instrumentalist Thor Harris along with lap-steel guitarist Christoph Hahn here is of drastic importance, where the duo are practically capable of transmuting almost everything. The Thor Harris is to be regarded as the mastermind of all things esoteric about the new sound of Swans; whether because of him channeling sickening improvisations on his (at times handmade) wind instruments, or texturing each composition with the delicate, every so often menacing, sound of bells. On the other hand, Mr. Hahn injects sonic heroin in the body of each song. Add to that the unrelenting drumming — also the exceptionally beautiful hammered dulcimer lines — of Phil Puleo, the crackerjack bass-lines of Christopher Pravdica, the universal musicianship of Norman Westberg, and many of the other contributors outside the Swans; then you have what makes this line-up stand out as the most yielding, the most fierce Swans line-up since forever. In substance, Swans' music on "To Be Kind" remains as collective, as dangerous, and as organic, that it is as though a Hermann Nitsch piece is being performed by some krautrockers high on acid - it's psychedelic, it flows, and it swallows you up.

Enough of sounds, let's get back to language. Within this affair of the nonsense, there are numerous allusions too — think Finnegans Wake — from the obscure and more personal ones like Nathalie Neal, to Howlin' Wolf, Toussaint Louverture and Kirsten Dunst. Yet this record, more than celebrating the supine Justine from Von Trier's "Melancholia", celebrates the child. It could be Howlin' Wolf, it could be Bob Biggs' screaming baby-image, it could be the Freudian id, it could be the Deleuzean child dreaming of the cosmos, or it might be the child Bataille observed in Kafka, Sade, Baudelaire, Genet, William Blake and Emily Brontë — "the child in revolt against the world of Good, against the adult world, and committed, in his revolt, to the side of Evil." (Literature And Evil, 1957)

Queen Elephantine - Scarab (2013)

I've always been extra-busy, and this year wasn't anything different, so, I'd like to apologize from all the bands who have sent me review requests, including Queen Elephantine, the fabulous space rockers, who, being unaware of the fact that I've been a fan of their music for quite a long time, sent me an email about a year ago. Their most recent album, "Scarab", is also a terribly underrated one, probably because the stoner scene is more interested in horseshit like Kvelertak. In any case, if you're into the ritualistic drone and psychedelia of Expo '70, Harvestman, Bong, and Ginnungagap or the minimalist music of La Monte Young, Charlemagne Palestine, Popol Vuh, and everything in between, you're gonna adore Queen Elephantine.

They've slowly moved away from the drone doom conventions, and "Scarab" marks the pinnacle of their deviations, where the songs don't tend to follow a groove but an idea, precisely what makes the record a great example of experimental rock/metal as well. Yet to me it seems that there're more walls of limits left to be broken, and I believe if they can accept the fact that there won't be any difference in the level of attention they'll get if they break those as well, they'll make one of the most perfect avant rockers of the decade.

Merchandise - Totale Nite (2013)

Trying to revive post-punk without having any new ideas would come to nothing but a roundabout of cliches. Merchandise seem to know that impeccably. On their latest offering "Totale Nite" they've attained a musical bridge between the new wave sound of acts like the Teardrop Explodes, Men At Work, the Police, and a more indie, shoegaze variation of psychedelic/space rock of Moon Duo, Spaceman 3, and Comets On Fire; something like a sleek, less noise rock influenced version of A Place To Bury Strangers for the lack of better examples.

Earth - Angels Of Darkness, Demons Of Light II (2012)

The 90's Earth has been my church for years. It's been this ocean of ideas floating around, which, no matter how many times I've considered to be through with it, always has proved to have something fresh underneath, next time that I returned to it -- sort of like Jarmusch in cinema, with the exception of the sense of humor. On the other hand, the so called post-rock Earth of the 00's might be seen as less universal, and more of a safe ground for Dylan Carlson to continue working on a singular idea that is, acid folk played in a drone fashion. The idea started, for all we know, with the release of "HEX", in 2005, but it has plagued whatever they've done, ever since. "Hibernaculum", "The Bees Made Honey In The Lion's Skull" and the duology of "Angels Of Darkness, Demons Of Light", have all been variations on the same theme. Yet, the second volume of "Angels Of Darkness, Demons Of Light", released earlier this year, made me come back a number of times, mainly because of its instrumentation, and the rather variant tone it is carried through.

Hull - Beyond The Lightless Sky (2011)

Hull have always been an interesting band for me to check out. Josh Graham's artwork was being how I got into discovering their 2009's "Sole Lord", the music was what subsequently made me keep tracking of them. "Sole Lord", a record carrying the post-metal label, but one that transcended almost everything associated with post-metal, is just a planet, compared to the universe, that is "Beyond The Lightless Sky". The new record is like a time-bomb, ready to explode as soon as you hit the play button; with three layers of mammoth riffs coming one after another, howls, growls, and screams; sheer attack of the bass and the drums, and the next minute there's barely anything left of you. Hull offer not a tight, controlled chaos, seen in the kinds of Keelhaul, Zebulon Pike, and Mastodon; but a radically free, almost 80's hardcore punk brand of progressive metal, all dreamed up within a massive, brutal mindset of sludge metal. Add Tamara Waite-Santibanez's artwork to the sound, and you'll have one of the best stoner/psych/doom releases of 2011.

U.S. Christmas - The Valley Path (2011)

If Bong are channeling Sabbath, worshiping Hawkwind, and sounding like Sleep; then, USX may as well be worshiping Hawkwind, while channeling Neil Young, and sounding like Neurosis. Their latest offering is the 40-minute song/record "The Valley Path". A record relatively limited in scope and length, compared to last year's "Run Thick In The Night", but nevertheless a fantastic sonic experience from start to finish. Psychedelic metal might not exist as a well-constituted subgenre, though it would remain as one of the very few terms capable of describing the music of U.S. Christmas, which is far from the spectrum of rock in general. While some other terms that could also come as close, in categorizing the sound of USX, would be, respectively; folk metal, progressive and post-metal. And as far as the folk metal consensus goes, USX will have barely anything to do with it, but, given that particular consensus (same as progressive metal) has already been manipulated to a point-of-no-return, altering what the term suggests at its core, to disguise a number of worthless pop-wannabes as its representative artists and therefore its definition; one could see USX -- and Neurosis before that -- as both the founders and forerunners of genuine folk metal.

Bong - Bethmoora (2008)

What does the word 'Bong' remind you? Bongzilla? Bongripper? These guys are simply Bong; some freaks who diametrically know what they are doing, which is a sinister re-imagining of psychedelia, within the drone doom domain. It's as if Om were supposed to work on an album like Sunn's "Black One" -- yes, precisely, if that were the case, the result would have been "Bethmoora". The album contains three songs; all of them running over 20 minutes. A highly experimental record one might asses, but the length here plays the same role it does in La Monte Young's, that is nothing. Nothing? Indeed. The time here is thoroughly ignored, or better say; suspended. The entire sonic astration takes more than an hour and it barely exceeds four musical themes, and yet, Bong's music has a lot to do with the beat, and it is nowhere as close as the "Earth 2 Special Low-Frequency Version"-type drone. It would be thus more proper to call Bong, purveyors of slow-motion kosmische metal, rather than drone doom.