It’s been a while since I posted some quick-fire nuggets of MDG “wisdom” about my week in music rather than hundreds of words of self-indulgent waffle about a single record.
As always, I’ve veered from one extreme to the other.
From the metallic hardcore cacophony of Converge and Trap Them to the twisted Lynchian torch songs of Lana Del Rey with a dash of dank death from Miasma.
It’s been a good week.
Lana Del Rey
I am obsessed with her to the point of OCD. My sonic stalking has now shifted to the second track from her debut, Blue Jeans. My bones turn to ice and my conscious mind evaporates leaving only raw emotion every time she hits the climax of this song. Even on the 87th play.
I’m looking forward to her debut in January. I’m bound to be disappointed, surely there’s no way she can maintain this standard.
Someone somewhere recently linked to a Cosmo Lee Pitchfork review which prompted me to dig out Axe to Fall again. It rips, it roars and is red and tooth and claw and is so damn lean but something still prevents me from truly being completely won over.
A (mildly) interesting aside: I have friends who don’t like metal at all who love this record.
It’s like Trap Them and Monkey Defies Gravity were a metallic hardcore Joey and Pacey, our destined union delayed longer than any onlooker could bear.
And by the tender moonlight we looked into each other’s eyes and… bare-knuckle brawled until our gums frothed with blood and we collapsed concussed into each others arms*.
Buzzsaw guitar tone + hardcore + dark pyschedelia = a thousand types of awesome.
I couldn’t stand Darker Handcraft when it came out. It literally gave me a headache yet I listened to it four times on the bounce today.
Evictionaries is the standout for me, verging on being as catchy as Black Breath and that’s saying something.
* I may have been a Dawson’s Creek fan (at my age, I know) but what do you think I am, a pussy?!
This has got a lot of love among seasoned death metal fans. Miasmal share more than a few letters in their name with Disma.
It’s the same sort of murky old school death metal that lurches through the gloom, a few skulls tied to its belt, smashing shit up.
Its queasy, rumbling atmosphere is certainly highly enjoyable but Miasmal doesn’t have quite the same OOMPH that Disma socks you with on Towards The Megalith.