The briefest of perusals through our archives will indicate that we Villagers cover a sizable share of doom (and affiliated genres.) For me, doom and stoner rock are the progenitorial genres--the heavy music that got me into heavy music to begin with. Regrettably, I just haven’t been in the mood for the low ‘n’ slow for some time, and while a number of solid releases have come and gone, nothing has truly drawn me back into the fold.
Not until today, that is, when Fumarole’s latest single, Valley, found its way into our drafty scriptorum...and stayed here, on repeat, for quite some time indeed. And now, gateway opened, I'm clambering inside the doomier corners of the promo pit with grossly wild abandon. Thanks, Fumarole, for your unintentional service. But enough blathering; let's get to the track in question.
In the drafty scriptorum of this Sleeping Village, power metal--and, by extension, said genre's upper echelon--serves a remarkably utilitarian purpose: pumping us the fuck up. In the turbulent seas of heavy music, very little rivals the charybdian draw of power metal's trademark infectious chest-pounding braggadocio.
As such, regardless of your contradictory opinions, and despite the (generally) bloody subject matter, an untouchable positivity reigns eternal in this particular arena. There's nothing like a little dose of Powerwolf or Judicator or Blind Guardian or Turisas or Falconer or Sabaton to banish a bad mood. Soaring vocals, lusty choral battlecries, meathook melodies, stomping riffage, and the promise of (obnoxiously) omniscient keyboard provide, for better or for worse, a highly energetic and uplifting experience. And, for that alone, power metal has earned a perpetual timeshare in our township.
Written by: Izzy
Slipknot is a household name. - Love ‘em or hate ‘em, every metalhead can recognize Corey’s rough gravelly vocals in an instant, and for a lot of people, including myself, Slipknot was a gateway to the heavier side of metal. And I can say I’ve loved every album of theirs for one reason or another: S/T, Vol. 3 and The Gray Chapter mix in perfect amounts of aggression and catchiness, Iowa is still one of the most blistering and unrelenting albums I’ve ever heard, even All Hope Is Gone which is pretty much universally considered their worst album still stands out completely unique with the different direction they took in riff writing. Even though I agree it’s definitely their weakest project.
So expectations are always high for Slipknot, especially with the singles for this album. Given "Unsainted" and it’s soaring chorus and emotionally charged breakdown, and "Solway Firth’s" near perfect return to classic Slipknot form, I was thinking this was gonna be an incredible album. But I’ve beat around the bush enough so I’ll just be honest, We Are Not Your Kind was a disappointing album. Not bad, but I expected better.
Despite all the insult-flinging in our direction, we Villagers just had to have Captain Graves (of Advent Varic) back for another review in typically pugilistic fashion. Today: Tartarus Horde's self-titled debut. Enjoy! - Ed.
I've been summoned to The Village once again. This time for some music out of my realm of normal listening. You know The Captain prefers a more depressive style. They sent me a weird device called a "tape," I've never seen anything like it. I searched far and wide at the stores to find a mundane object here on your planet to find a way for it to play. On Saturn 9, I usually just take whatever files I feel, maybe this was a smart move, or a way to prevent me from stealing their music. I bet this was this was the work of the Necrosexual, that Weak bastard.
It's been a while since The Captain has made it down to the Stoned Village,* or I mean, Sleeping Village, what's the difference? I've been up on Saturn 9 laying down some new track for the world to decimate themselves to.
Here we have The King's Pistol. These fools don't even know what they've gotten themselves into with the likes of me. The bass player, Andy, seems to be scared of my threats, and is worried I'm going to come to his work. He gave me the address, the silly bastard. Why would you give The Decimator of Worlds your location, doesn't he know I have a space ship?
We provide thoughtful reviews of music that is heavy, gloomy...and heavy enough to wake us from slumber. Written by a certain groggy-eyed and highfalutin' peasantry.