My love affair with Baroness wasn’t an immediate one. Even after becoming a fan, it took me a while to be fully convinced.
But delving into their back catalogue the last few months, I have realized that they are one of the best bands around. Despite the diversity of their sonic palette, everything they do is absolutely untouchable.
This realization has bid me to systematically buy my way through all of their albums, which brings me to The Blue Record, their wonderful second record.
The Northern Indiana/Southwestern Michigan music scene is an interesting beast. While my hometown of South Bend is the de facto center of it, we’re close enough to other cities that bands that are born out of towns within an hour drive from us end up cutting their teeth in Chicago or Indianapolis or Grand Rapids instead.
Sometimes, this leads me to discoveries of local(ish) bands that I didn’t even realize were somewhat local to me (see also: Lume, Locktender, Cloakroom).
Earlier this year, I had the similar realization (or reminder, rather) that the mathy, heavy post-hardcore outfit Native were also localish (from Michigan City, but played mostly in Chicagoland).
It shouldn’t have been much of a surprise—after all, Native is fronted by Bobby Markos, the bassist of the aforementioned Cloakroom. And while his rumbling, heavy bass strings are a through line between the two bands, that’s about where the comparison ends.
Now this is more like it.
No more weird live versions or late-career tracks from a compilation that is clearly a cash grab.
This here is the real deal: the long-awaiting vinyl pressing of the seminal emo classic The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most, an album that has been equally revered and reviled—usually by the same people at different periods in their life.
But having long since past the point of shame, I can now embrace this album as wholly as I did when I was a shaggy haired, ripped-jean, cardigan-clad, square-frame-bespectacled emo kid.
Wait…I guess things haven’t changed that much…
If you thought that I would have learned my lesson from the bait and switch of Hair of the Dog, you might be wrong.
Expect No Mercy features an even more badass cover than its predecessor: a shining knight and a scimitar-wielding demon are engaged in an epic battle of good and evil. What are they fighting for? What are the stakes?
Apparently, the real battle is between heavy metal and blues rock: and blues rock is winning.
Never judge a book by its cover.
Because if you were to look at the epic, Tolkien-esque painting of wolves and bat wings that adorn this record sleeve and imagine that you were in for some epic, fantasy-inspired heavy metal, you’d be disappointed.
…just like I was, when I first got this record because of the cover, and expected some epic, fantasy-inspired heavy metal.
I discovered all too recently that the Moody Blues weren’t the sort of schlocky, soulless dad rock that I had expected them to be.
Instead, they were charming pioneers that guided much of psychedelic pop’s shift to progressive rock—much closer to The Zombies and Pink Floyd than the Allman Brothers.
After being captured by the incredible Days of Future Passed and the otherworldly On the Threshold of a Dream, I had been searching for the album between them. Having now acquired it, it’s everything I had hoped for.
Speaking of lurching, post rock informed sludge metal…
Ohio’s Mouth of the Architect has long held my ear as one of the must crushing yet beautiful post metal bands around. Quietly is one of the most gorgeous and visceral records I’ve ever heard. So when a friend gave me this split, also featuring the instrumental, fellow Daytonians Kenoma, my hopes were high.
And that hope did not disappoint.
For the last six years, post metal heroes ISIS have been one of my favorite bands. From the first time I heard the crushing, glacial riffs of Panopticon, I was smitten. As I became more familiar with their other works, I regarded that album as a watershed moment: a turning point that would set the direction for the rest of their career, as well as direction for an entire direction of metallurigists.
A few weeks ago, I found that album’s predecessor, Oceanic, for the lowest price I’d ever seen it, so I ordered it without being totally familiar with it. And now, I must recant the narrative I’ve drawn around their discography. While Panopticon may have perfected the post-rock tinged sludge metal that they are celebrated for, Oceanic pioneered it. Continue reading
At some point in the mid to late 2000s, Gorillaz founder Damon Albarn decided that leading the world’s best cartoon band wasn’t enough, and started to aim a bit higher.
After three massive statements filled with star-studded collaborations, Gorillaz became icons in the music world. Each release was a zeitgeist, heralded by a massive web presence.
But then in 2018 they quietly released The Now Now, an album as subdued as its marketing. That doesn’t stop it from being just as rewarding.
If you’ve followed this blog at all, you’re already well aware that I have a very soft spot for a particular kind of heavy, glacial, melodic sludge metal (see: Isis, Cult of Luna, Mouth of the Architect, Spotlights, etc).
My friend Alex knows this, and so when he heard Bloodletting, the latest full length from California post metal outfit Mountaineer, his first reaction was to send me the link.
A few songs in, my first reaction was to buy the record. Said record has a label on it that says, “For Fans Of: Cult of Luna, Alcest, Torche, and Baroness.” That’s a pretty bold FFO if you can’t back it up. Luckily, Bloodletting proves it in spades.