Big Steven And His Disciples

SANCTA SANCTORUM – “The Shining Darkness” CD ’10 (Black Widow, Ita) – I have a problem. It’s something that I’ve lived with for many years now and while I haven’t mentioned it a whole lot lately, it’s probably something that’s gonna have to come to the fore. The problem that I have is not one with drink, smoke nor any other ingestible mind-altering substance…. That is to say, unless you consider sound waves entering the ear canal “ingesting.” In a sense, I suppose it is. With that in mind, then, it’s incumbent upon me to reveal the nature of this…ahem…issue of mine. The bottom line is that if I hear the name “Steve Sylvester” mentioned in connection to any sort of sound recording, I immediately get a glazed look in my eye. Things like my children eating, paying the mortgage and going to work recede immediately to some back corner of my mind. I then am seized by a fierce and determined nature and, armed with this passionate verve, I arise from my easy chair, stride to the front door and embark upon my quest to obtain whatever recorded medium it is that bears the name of this underground Italian metal legend. No one is safe. I’ve been known to behead elderly women, throw small children to wolves and raze entire cities if need be in order to insert a new SYLVESTER or DEATH SS disc into the Realm-O-Matic and hit “Play.” So, when my age-old buddy Mass (Black Widow Records) emailed me and asked if I’d like to receive a review copy of the new SANCTA SANCTORUM CD, a band fronted by none other than Mr. SYLVESTER himself, I did what only a man named Ray Dorsey would do. I hunched o’er the keyboard, grimaced like the old Horned One himself and typed those fateful words, “Send it now or die.” Well, I really didn’t do that, I actually said something like “Damn right, bro, send it on over!” Either way, “The Shining Darkness” is now in my hands, in the player and the story is…

You need this! If you have any affiliation at all with hard rock/metal and like your crush-dom dark and evil, you don’t have a whole section of the Bible if this isn’t on your shelf. With SANCTA SANCTORUM, our good ol’ STEVE has assembled quite a line-up! On drums is none other than another legend of the underground Italian scene, former DEATH SS and Paul Chain sticksman Thomas Hand Chaste. Bass is handled by another old cronie bassist Danny Hughes, while keys get their pounding by John Di Lallo. Last but not least, that six-string thing is delivered by a guy with what must be one of the most amazing names of all time, Frederick Dope. (Really!) The result of this meeting of the Italian musical minds is a landmark in heavy doom rawk that has scarcely left my player since it’s arrived. While there is a close connection to the dark, sinister metal of SYLVESTER’s DSS days and his solo output, the sound here also (and quite to my great pleasure!) veers even further into the realm of ‘70’s heavy progressive rawk than STEVE has ever gone. Di Lallo’s keys have a lot to do with this. Never becoming over-bearing, they blend into the mixture like a wonderful secret ingredient being folded into a recipe at just the right time. The added depth is something to behold throughout the album. Moreover, Dope’s (man I love that!) guitar is a massive acid tractor from pillar to post. Taking a cue from Iommi, but more so from the FIRST Sabbath record than any other, his sound is vintage yet timeless and his soloing is nasty as hell. Clearly this young guy has studied at the feet of the masters! Tying it all together of course, is SYLVESTER himself. This is a man who’s voice could never be called a model of technical schooling and yet like most of the true ‘70’s gods, his insistent mid-range poses more of a palpable threat, an distinct evil, than any death metal growler you’ve ever entrusted your cochlea to. STEVE’s big secret? What makes him so great? Melody! It’s never complicated but it's always there, and the man once again displays a singular talent for incorporating melodies of nearly pop-like hook into music that is devastatingly heavy and frankly evil. He simply gets better with age.

In short, “The Shining Darkness” is clearly one of the best releases in the Black Widow labels’s storied history, and that’s saying something! Leave it to STEVE SYLVESTER to put his name on such a release, that’s really no surprise. It’s another of his wonderful works that just keeps flowering more & more each time I hear it. Shine On You Crazy Diamond

http://www.blackwidow.it/

Psych With Teeth

BLACK LAND– “Extreme Heavy Psych” CD ’10 (Blood Rock, Ita) – Remember that song “The Way We Were?” Barbra Streisand, right? Hell, my dad loved Barbra Streisand…well, not in the Biblical sense, I s’pose my mom might have had a problem with that although I’m betting he’d have liked it but…damn, I’m ADHD-ing all over the place, now aren’t I? Thing is, that song started out with that line, “Memories, like the corners of my mind….” That’s what I was thinking when I started spinning this little piece of the pie that Mass from Black Widow Records sent me(BW is the exclusive distributor of Blood Rock Rec). (He sent me a ton of shit recently, and I’ll be getting to it all coming up, but stay patient…). See I started listening to this disc from Italy’s BLACK LAND and for some reason, I was hit with memories of a gigantic convention hall in King Of Prussia, PA. ‘twas there, some several years back that, in digging thru a box of dusty metal rekids on the floor, I came face to face with a hunk of vinyl from a British band called Mournblade. “Live Fast Die Young” was a cool find because it ended up being one of those quirky NWOBHM albums I love so much…the ones like Legend, Witchfinder General, Shiva, Split Crow, etc. that DID NOT sound like Judas Priest or Maiden. Now before you go getting your tighty whiteys in a bind, I’ve got nothing against those Metal Gods. Anybody who’s ever seen my shrine to “Stained Class” will attest to that. No, I just really had a fond place for the bands from that era who took a path-less-trodden than all the dual-lead, laser riffing monsters of the day and Mournblade was one. Kinda imagine a cross between Motorhead, Sabbath and some quite odd heavy-handed version of Hawkwind and you might be close.

So, imagine my surprise when I spun this new (and apparently 3rd) effort from BLACK LAND. Now to be fair, I’d say that BL has a lot more of the Sabbath end of the stick up their sleeves than the NWOBHM obscurities I described above but at the same time, my reaction was unmistakable…about three songs in and one word went thru my mind: Mournblade. That’s pretty damn cool and original…I mean, how many bands do you hear who remind you of friggin’ Mournblade?! I just love the style here…. Long songs to begin with, and you know how I like that! These guys will start with a heavy, Iommi-an lick, topped with some spacey electronic overlays and explore that for awhile. Then, just when you think you’ve got ‘em pegged, a rhythm shift snaps into action and your being dragged down the road on a Harley of a riff. Man, you can almost see Lemmy standing under his shower-level mike and nodding with a wart-ridden smile. The strength of this keeps up for an entire album, 8 songs including a triad of 9-minute behemoths that the word “truck” might suit quite nicely. Guitarist Willer steals the show here, not only with his simple-yet-effective riffs but more than once, this dude unleashes a wah-wah lead frenzy that completely takes u by surprise in it’s ferocity and peels some serious paint. Gotta say, as usual Black Widow delivers the goods, this time by distributing another bad-ass CD on the Blood Rock imprint. Just don’t get carried away and start putting out Babs Streisand stuff now, Mass! Extreme Heavy Sucker

http://www.myspace.com/blackland/

Forbidden Evil!

FORBIDDEN – “Omega Wave” CD ’10 (Nuclear Blast, US) – You know what I’ve been thinking? This has been one helluva year for the SF Bay Area. I mean, think about it. The Giants just won the World Series. Now, as a baseball fan, had somebody told you on April 1 that they would be holding the title in November, would you have bought that over MLB’s nearly pre-ordained Yankees/Phillies match-up? Don’t think so. And, as an Oriole fan, I gotta say it was nice to see at least SOMEBODY wearing black and orange hoist that trophy since, even now in the “Buck Era,” the chances of the O’s doing it any time soon are slim and none. And as Chuck Thompson would say, slim just left town.

So, yeah, SF is atop the sports world right now and we haven’t even begun on music. To put it simply, 2010 has witnessed a hundred megaton explosion in the Bay Area thrash scene. It’s been a confluence of brutal greatness, seeing spectacular new releases from longtime luminaries like Exodus, Heathen, Death Angel and now, FORBIDDEN. Of course, it would be real easy for me to lie right here. I could say that I have been the biggest FORBIDDEN fan since the release of their first album, “Forbidden Evil” in 1988. However, there would be a problem with that. It wouldn’t be the truth. At all. Now let me make one thing perfectly clear: I haven’t had anything against these dudes. It’s not like I found out their albums were the carriers of some strange disease and, therefore, vowed to keep them from crossing my threshold for fear of contamination. It’s not that I have some personal grudge against any of the band members for running off with a wife or girlfriend or stealing any of my shit. I’m pretty sure none of them have ever done any of those things. No, there really is no explanation for it. Sometimes even a guy like me who tries to keep up with everything that goes on in the music scene whiffs on something entirely. I mean, hell, Columbus missed an entire continent when he thought he was in the West Indies and he got a holiday for it, so take it easy people! Thing is, I just never checked these guys out! I have no idea why. Probably was too busy listening to Natas rehearsal tapes or something. So, when I started hearing a lot of talk online, on Facebook and all, people going on about a new FORBIDDEN album, first one since 1997, I went “Hmm…” When the comments began alluding to the fact that this was on the order of a new Heathen release I was like, “Whoa, wait a minute Charlie, either these people are imbeciles or I need to be schooled.” I looked again at the names of said persons, realized they were decidedly not idiots and headed to class. Thus, a crash course ensued in ass-busting records like the aforementioned “…Evil,” and “Twisted Into Form” and with that thrash credo under my belt, I sauntered into Record And Tape Traders on Monday Oct 25 and plunked down $ 11 for “Omega Wave.” As it would turn out, choices don’t come a whole lot smarter than that.

Simply put, this record is an MMF. That is to say, my friends, it’s a monster-mother-fucker. It kicks ass…and then it kicks some more ass. Then it takes what’s left of your sorry butt, drags you behind the woodshed and gives you a fine, sound beating if you need one. And if you don’t, it gives you one anyway, in spades and like a red-headed stepchild. This sumbitch has simply got it all. It takes all the best aspects of the fresh and early thrash scene, ratchets it up with super unique ideas and riffs (pretty hard to do now some 30 years down the line from “Kill ‘Em All”) and laces it with wonderful dollops of cherry topping like great vocals and lead guitar work that will have your head spinning for days. Oh, and did I forget? Simply superb, memorable songs. Interestingly, “Omega Wave” is kind of a tale of two halves and I’ll explain what’s so cool about each. After the soaring intro called “Alpha Century,” filled with some dazzling guitar harmonies that would do Tipton & Downing proud, FORBIDDEN launches into a headlong thrash assault. Borne on smokers like “Forsaken At The Gates” (Why do I miss titles like this so much!) and “Adapt Or Die," this is the sound of a band that despite their…ahem…maturity…are sounding as hungry, pissed and lethal as it gets. Craig Locicero and Steve Smyth pull one nasty, saw-toothed riff after another out of their axes and surgically rivet your ass to the wall as Russ Anderson lashes out with vox that are at once raw, powerful and still way-tuneful. At this point comes a strange little 2-minute instrumental called “Chatter,” after which we go down the rabbit hole…and I mean that in the best possible way! While the first half of this album is a brutal thrash attack (adorned by some Voivod-like progressions in “Swine”) we really see the magical creativity of the band unfurl from “Dragging My Casket” on. Here, the songs begin to spread out, pushing closer (and into) the 6-minute range and the ideas flow like molten lava. Through “Hopenosis,” “Immortal Wounds” and “Behind The Mask,” the originality and light and shade continues to grow, peaking in awesome fashion with “Inhuman Race” and then tying everything together as the odd structures and thrash lasers come together perfectly in the scorching title cut. Matt Camacho (bass) and Mark Hernandez (drums) form a ten-ton foundation as atop their punishing blows, Locicero and Smyth weave guitar riffs and leads that will at once have your head Linda-Blair-ing and snagged by deep hooks at the same time. Anderson becomes a vocal chameleon here, laying down one of the most impressive performances I can remember in this kind of music. The guy can effuse gnarly power one minute and thoughtful melody the next and it all makes sense. Bringing everything into focus is the poitively scintillating production job courtesy of Locicero and Tim Narducci and the eye-popping cover art takes me back to a basic truth: Nothing looks better on the cover of a metal album than a big fucking skull! Remember that “Stained Class” jacket and put this baby in heavy rotation cause Frisco is the capital of heavy music once more! A Fresh Chalice Of Blood

http://www.myspace.com/forbiddenofficial/

The Pastoral Master

PERSEPHONE’S DREAM – “Pan: An Urban Pastoral” CD ’10 (Progrock, US) – Yup, I know people, we’ve been through the whole “what the hell does ‘progressive’” discussion/argument/back-alley-fist-fight enough times around here. I mean, c’mon, I don’t have this bloody bent nose for nothing. I’ve stood my ground on my hard-assed stance that prog can mean a bunch of different things…and all correctly…over enough years that I can match wounds with Quint any day of the week. But that’s all kinda silly, you know, because what I have in my hands right now is this new disc by PERSEPHONE’S DREAM and there ain’t no doubt this one is a prog masterpiece. It’s interesting to note that a lot of concept albums over time have slipped easily into the so-called “prog” genre: “2112,” “Tales Of Topographic Oceans,” “The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway,” the list goes on forever and it’s clear that “Pan…” takes a seat quite comfortably in the upper tiers of this well-populated theater. That’s not to say that this, PD’s 5th album blurs, non-descript, into a long hallway of similar releases. Sure, you’ll hear hints of things (a bit of a Kansas overtone in “Selene Rising,” some Yes rhythmic in “Youth’s Denial”) but these are only jumping-off-points at best. No, PD brings a lot to the table here…whether it’s Rowen Poole’s guitars, going everywhere from metallic to lush 12-string or Ashley Peer’s sensual, powerful vocal delivery, this is vibrant stuff. The thing that’s so great about it is the way the music incorporates so many lights & shades and yet still manages to flow with a smoothness that implies much thought and care. I’m also very impressed by the lyrical themes here. While I’m not going to spill any of the proverbial beans, I’ll say you’re in for quite a treat when you read the liner notes and lyric booklet. In all, you can call me Ray, you can call me Jay and you can call “prog” whatever you want. The fact remains that with “Pan…”, PERSEPHONE’S DREAMS pipes are calling you home! At The Gates Of Dawn

http://www.persephonesdream.com/
http://www.progrockrecords.com/

Grand Halls 49

DIAMOND REO – “Dirty Diamonds” (Kama Sutra, 1976) – I remember when I moved into the house I’m currently living in. I mean, ok, we’re talking awhile back…like maybe 19 years and 2 wives ago. But that part of it’s my cross to bear, not your’s so I’ll stick with the basics here. I moved into this shell of a 1920’s home on my parents’ street after a stroke of luck (or maybe just a stroke) took the original owner, a delightfully eccentric old codger named Mr. Gus. Sheezus, bro, there was a lot of work to be done and I made a helluva lot of trips to the old hardware store (conveniently called “The Hardware Store”) on Philadelphia Road. The one time in particular my loot included a heavy-ass strain of paint remover. Funny thing is, had I thought a little bit I could’ve probably saved myself a couple bucks and just pulled this, the 2nd of 3 albums by Pittsburgh hard rock band DIAMOND REO off the shelf. Reason is, I doubt there’s anything made by man or beast that could strip the shellac like the unholy racket created by this fearsome foursome over the 30-some minutes etched into the vinyl of “Dirty Diamonds.” Truly, Frank Czuri, Warren King, Norm Nardini and Rob Franks were not going to confuse themselves in anybody’s mind with Rush or anything like that. I mean, there were no 10+ minute opuses about necromancers dwelling in the tracks of this ebon slab. No, DIAMOND REO instead went straight for the jugular with 3-4 minute sonic tree stumps, bar-room hard rock scalders with names like “Scratch My Back” and “Power.” The thing that really put these fuckers over the top, though, were the vocals of Czuri and Warren King’s guitar. The former comes at you like a steroid-ridden prize fighter, all punk attitude, nasty vox and a slathering dash of Bon Scott school boy leer, strapped together with a sense of melody that could pry back the top of a can of Iron City with one syllable. The guitar tone of King is absolutely ridiculous. It pure Gibson-through-Marshall crunch, drenched with a caustic, acetone volatility that would simply slice the flesh off a hippo. The force of this greatness is felt no better than in the opening volley, “All Over You,” truly one of the greatest, heaviest hard rock songs of all time. Truth be known, however, there isn’t a letdown anywhere throughout the course of this swaggering beast of a record. Could the same thing be said for the band’s debut, “Diamond Reo” or this sucker’s follow up, “Ruff Cuts?” Not really. I mean, they are decent heavy rock records and surely worth your attention but brothers and sisters, when that next job needs to be done & you need the industrial strength paint peeler? Look no further than “Dirty Diamonds.” Absolutely Filthy

No Dime Store Souvenir Here, Baby!

SOUVENIR’S YOUNG AMERICA – “The Name Of The Snake” CD ’10 (Init, US) – I can picture it vividly…walking slowly through a forest, a draping canopy of leaves hanging tentatively over my head… the brisk autumn air has not yet gotten to these internal fronds and their summer green remains, only to have begun to feel the chill of the season. As that thought occupies my mind, I round a turn in the trail and I feel the shadows lift as the natural ceiling rises like the hand of a giant, fingers uncurling slowly and I stroll into the clearing. Sunlight bathes my optical reserve as the lush, layered colors of fall unfold in what seems to be both a moment and lifetime. The golden reds, yellows and browns stream into sharp relief on both sides of the gorge in front of me and I sit for a moment near the cliff’s edge, overtaken by both the majesty of the forest from which I've emerged, the magic-like transition and the spectacle now before me. All of this is the same kind of feeling I get when listening to the new record by Richmond VA’s SOUVENIR’S YOUNG AMERICA. Having been familiar (and quite inspired by) this band’s previous offering, 2007’s “An Ocean Without Water,” I was thrilled to find this little gem hiding in the “Various S’s” section of The Soundgarden in Baltimore the other night. I have to say that it was a $9 very well spent. SYA is a band composed of: Ken Rayher – guitars; Jonathan Lee – keyboards, electronics, organs, pianos; Graham Scala – guitars, electronics, acoustic guitar; Patrick DeWit – percussion; Noah Saval – harmonica. That’s pretty easy, to list the line-up and what instruments they play. What’s not so fucking easy is to explain what these cats sound like and that’s why I began this piece the way I did. This is an instrumental band that, through the 4 lengthy songs on this release are not as readily described through particular guitar riffs, snappy choruses or toe-tapping rhythms. More so, as with the landscape above, the vistas of SYA’s music are much easier to describe as layers of color and shaded, draped with melodies of power, beauty and heaviness. Think Pelican or, maybe even more, Across Tundras, replete with the kind of memorability and sign-posts often reserved for much more “accessible” stuff. Each of the 4 numbers here seems interconnected to the others, and yet they still somehow stand on their own, the record finishing incredibly strong with the acoustic-laden shimmer of “Dust (Erasing The Future)” and “Amnesia (A Victor’s History).” This is simply a fantastic and highly-original piece of work, harkening the listener to push “repeat” a shit-load of times without any threat of boredom. It is at once heavy, beautiful and overpowering. The inclusion of 3 additional numbers from the “September Songs” EP is only icing on the proverbial cake! Snakes Alive!

http://www.myspace.com/souvenirsyoungamerica/

Hang In There!

Been beset with computer problems which may keep The Realm from being updated for a week or so, but we should be back up and running asap. Keep watching this spot!