 Written by: Sabrina TVBand
Today The Runaways, the first all-female rock band, are highly respected. Widely acknowledged as the progenitors of the riot grrrl movement, and known for being Joan Jett and Lita Ford’s first band, The Runaways stand tall in the annals of music history. But in the 70's they were, at best, a cult favorite. The second Runaways album, 1977’s Queens of Noise, is their strongest release. In its time it only reached #172 on the Billboard 200, but it’s plain to see that contemporary audiences didn’t recognize greatness when it was right in front of them. Every Runaways album has at least two or three solid cuts, but I don’t think it’s possible to make a compelling argument that Queens of Noise isn’t the best one, even if it doesn’t have "Cherry Bomb." This is by far their most consistent and enjoyable collection of songs.
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 Written by: Sabrina TVBand
It’s about time I put my cards on the table; I’m not a big fan of Bruce Dickinson. I have an appreciation for many Dickinson Iron Maiden songs, but like Klaus Meine I find that Dickinson has a voice that becomes grating after a few minutes. He also has an aggressive and very British nerdy goofball energy. I realize I’m mostly alone in having this opinion, but I stand by it. The Di’Anno years of Iron Maiden have been overshadowed by the subsequent Dickinson years in a big way, but Iron Maiden’s self-titled debut is still one of their stronger albums. Di’Anno is known for being a more limited vocalist than Dickinson, but within that limited range I find his voice to be a lot more enjoyable.  Written by: Sabrina TVBand
In 1984, guitarists who could play fast were rarities. Not just “fast,” but “very fast.” Eddie Van Halen, largely because of his tapping and legato chops, was one of the fastest guitarists in his day. Al Di Meola was also pretty fast, although he didn’t make it sound easy. The fastest picker, indisputably, was Yngwie Malmsteen. Rising Force was not Yngwie’s first album; he’d first appeared on Steeler’s self titled debut in 1983, and subsequently on No Parole from Rock ‘n’ Roll by Alcatrazz. Those were the albums that introduced him to a wide audience, and let the world know how fast guitar could be played. But Yngwie’s solo debut, Rising Force, would be his first album as unquestioned artistic leader; it’s where he showed the guitar world that he was more than just a fast hired gun.
The Sleeping Village has been around for a few years now, and during that time, a lot of reviews have unceremoniously disappeared into the dark confines of our archives, destined to never see the light of the front page again. Music appreciation, however, is a timeless affair, and in that spirit, here is a review retrieved from the depths.
Written by: The Voiceless Apparition
34 years?! It's crazy to say that Paradise Lost have been a band for 34 years. The masters of doom and melancholy have been going steady ever since their inception with no break-ups or hiatuses in between. After a brief wait, Paradise Lost return with their 16th opus Obsidian, the follow-up to the masterful Medusa. Said album was a slight return to their original death/doom roots, albeit with a modern context...but enough about the past. Obsidian is split into three different and distinct styles. You have the more death/doom-leaning tracks, the more gothic rock/metal-based tracks, and a subtler bridging between the two styles. It feels like a natural progression from the last album, with many of the trademarks we all love and adore about Paradise Lost, but with many twists and turns along the way. Welcome to the world of Obsidian.
The Sleeping Village has been around for a few years now, and during that time, a lot of reviews have unceremoniously disappeared into the dark confines of our archives, destined to never see the light of the front page again. Music appreciation doesn't start and end upon release, and in that spirit, here is a review retrieved from the depths.
Written by: The Administrator
To be frank, I approached Four Dimensional Flesh with immense trepidation. Brutal death metal and/or slam aren’t exactly locales I find myself frequenting with any kind of regularity--if I pass through, it’s usually a lone track in the midst of an otherwise innocuous playlist. While the dedication to slammin’ riffs and woodpecker-on-a-hot-tin-roof percussive fills are certainly attractive bedfellows, the trademark drainpipe gutturals and resonance chamber bree-brees really ain’t this scribes cup o’ vox. And yet here we are, plumbing the gurgling pipes with a grim sense of glee. Why? Because Afterbirth strives to make slam interesting. And it is this quality that remains Four Dimensional Flesh’s greatest strength amongst strengths  Written by: The Administrator
On this fine Sabbath Sunday, we inksplattered inhabitants of the Sleeping Village have been dipping our toes in the dangerous and troubled waters of 80’s era Black Sabbath. As one does. In the grand scheme, the general sentiment is that if it ain't Ozzy or Dio, it ain't Sabbath. While I personally tend to find the albums featuring said vocalists the most appealing, we are talking about Iommi, the Rifflord Most High, and as such, there are certainly some diamonds in the rough. Case in point: 1983's Born Again--perhaps the most maligned of the black sabbathian sheep. Is it fair to say I'm disappointed that Born Again was Ian Gillian's only foray with the boys from Birmingham? My rational is that this one-off album, despite repeatedly getting the short end of the stick--often deservedly so-- demonstrates a whole lot of unactualized promise. 
Written by: The Administrator
Despite not having the largest back catalog or most widespread popularity, Wo Fat are one of those rare monolithic bands who deliver with such marked consistency that, as time goes on, their albums seem less like moments in a discography, and more like myths that comprise a greater lore. Their latest LP comprised of new material, 2016's Midnight Cometh, is no outlier. On this no-nonsense affirmation of their core aesthetic, swirling, psychedelic, and pseudo-hypnotic riffage paves the way through a chest-deep swampy ambiance. When I think "stoner," this album rises as a prototypical paragon of the sound and the style. Maybe I'm jaded for thinking it is such a prime exemplar, but so be it. This album simply reeks of smoke. It perpetually sits behind a hazy veil. This is stoner music of the highest order, plain and simple. |
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