From drum & bass to mathematical grindcore, the must hear albums of the week
ALBUM OF THE WEEK
Double O – Firm Meditation (Rupture)
Few can match the Rupture crew for positive influence on modern-day d&b. The legendary club sessions spearheaded by David ‘Double O’ Henry and Indi ‘Mantra’ Khera have become a nexus for the scene’s vitality, holding true to the underground roots while incubating fresh talent and building a grassroots community. Rupture’s importance is no secret these days, and in turn Mantra and Double O are becoming more widely recognised as artists in their own right. Mantra has only recently minted her first solo EP on Sneaker Social Club, but Double O has been steadily building a catalogue of killer plates since the mid 00s, appearing on labels like Hidden Hawaii and 117 as well as through Rupture’s in-house label.
Henry’s roots in production reach right back to the early 90s and the breakthrough hardcore years, though. A few scattered 12”s of ruffneck breakbeat can be found under the 007 moniker, and while they might not reach the heights of what he makes now, they do set out certain qualities which hold true right up to his debut album proper, Firm Meditation. Ragga jungle was one of the earliest iterations of sped-up breakbeat to come through in a natural cross-pollination of soundsystem cultures, and Henry’s tracks displayed Jamaican roots from the get-go. He’s maintained that approach through the modern arc of his productions, and Firm Meditation comes loaded with the same unmistakable traits – toasting MCs, dub siren blips and of course bucketloads of bass. What’s different about Henry’s approach is how he folds these elements into his tunes.
Ragga jungle was typically about frenetic energy driven by aggravated Amens, but Henry’s approach is more nuanced. This album undoubtedly rolls with physical intent, but it reframes the abundant soundsystem samples with fresh approaches to synthesis and production. Rupture regular Theory chimes in on ‘Repatriation’ as he and Henry explore a needlepoint drum hypnosis which leaves ample room for dubwise FX splashes there just wouldn’t be the space for in typical ragga jungle. ‘Corsica Groove’ zeroes in nimble break slicing more akin to Platinum Breakz-era Metalheadz, cooling off the eventual Amen flare ups with icy pads and punctuating the groove with ‘uh’s and ‘ah’s from an unknown MC.
There is a classic dimension to Henry’s sound too. ‘Testing Ground’ clatters with the thunderous gallop of OG breakbeat hardcore, teetering on the edge of 4/4 jungle tekno. ‘Probe’ goes one step further into those open-ended, experimental years by dropping a seminal sample of techno from 1991 courtesy of LFO’s ‘Mentok 1’ – whether the track title is a wry nod to another LFO b-side from the same period remains to be seen.
While Firm Meditation is resolutely focused on jungle and d&b from start to finish, Henry sounds free in himself to indulge many different avenues. ‘Victory V’ taps into warm, melodic keys and some welcome Apaches, ‘Bad To Worse’ revels in light-footed drum funk peppered with Detroit-tinted synth flourishes and ‘The Game’ heads down a disorienting labyrinth of breaks with the non-linearity which made so much early jungle so mesmerising.
Through everything, what’s abundantly clear is how steeped in the culture Henry is. Firm Meditation is the sound of someone who has spent their life entrenched in breakbeats, and much like Rupture overall it edges the sound forward without losing sight of the fundamentals. This isn’t about reinventing the wheel(up), but rather celebrating everything brilliant about the genre as it stands 30 years deep. If you value the ‘real’ in modern jungle, this album is all you need to hear.
OW
Celine Gillain – Mind Is Mud (Cortizona)
Resisting the hackneyed comparisons one might infer from her work to Laurie Anderson or Leslie Winer, Celine Gillain’s latest album Mind Is Mud shows us that the Brussels-based artist seeks to explore more than just one facet of her craft. Here she explores the concept of the “mudflow”, “a swamp of emotional confusion” and a more figurative, perhaps major version of the post-COVID brain fog many of us know all too well. Those who have experienced brain fog usually recall it as unpleasant – a slurred affect, diminished ability to communicate well, and a general aura of lethargy. But for Mind Is Mud, Gillain asserts that she embraced, rather than resisted, her bout of brain fog (whether really, or figuratively after the fact), opening up an untrodden wealth of cool.
The project feels like finding a pearl at the end of a mudslide, thanks to the fact that the easiest pearls to find, not blocked by mud, have all already been taken. One of few ‘unmuddy’ elements sounds to be Gillain’s voice, which sings and speaks like the only vestige of non-lethargy, of ‘sanity’ (for wont of a better word). Immediately on the opener comes the stressful mid-pandemic imposition of capitalism – “I need money!” – while themes of renewal still poke through – “like lightning from our footsteps, we started over…” Soon come the impressive vocal arps of ‘High Definition’ and the janky madhouse moods of ‘The Authoritarian’, which are difficult to describe beyond their paranoid, random-humoured feel. ‘Peer Pressure’ is more measured and definable, a dark grime number with themes of assassination and revelation. The stylistic fog expands, with the incredible beatless ballad ‘My Secret’ hearing Gillain indulge careful vocal timestretchings on sibilant parts, giving the impression of an unreliably serpentine narrator. Then comes an increasingly arhythmic coda, with ‘You The Client’ and ‘Empty’ sounding like broken club bits held together by toothpicks and paperclips, with mud as the binding agent.
Where “muddiness” is a term in the music production world to refer to clashing frequencies, which produce a subjectively unpleasant sound not to the tastes of most baithead mixing engineers – problematic ideas of dirt, mud and insanity held in mind, too – Gillain uses the idea to great, ironic effect here.
JIJ
Khanate – To Be Cruel (Sacred Bones)
Originally conceived at the turn of the millennium, New York based industrial-tinged drone-doom supergroup Khanate amassed a devout cult following through their utterly horrid form of caustic, audible malevolence. A supergroup in essence, made up of James Plotkin and Alan Dubin of OLD, Tim Wyskida of Blind Idiot God and Stephen O’Malley of Burning Witch and Sunn O))), the members would officially disband in 2006, three long years before the arrival of their long-gestating posthumous fourth full-length Clean Hands Go Foul.
Citing lack of commitment from certain members, the band had gone on record several times to express their sincere doubts that any form of reunion would ever take place. Hence the shock and sheer elation when they surprise dropped their despicable comeback in the form of new fifth album, aptly titled To Be Cruel.
At three beastly monolithic tracks all reaching the 20-minute mark, every inch of the menacing noise-doom chaos that originally made Khanate such an underground darling of early 21st century experimental and extreme metal is ever present here.
From the squelching distorted static that lingers throughout opener ‘Like A Poisoned Dog’, constantly testing and demanding patience while imbuing each sonic second with torrential dread, to the bombastic sludging heft towards the back end of the title-track, To Be Cruel is hideous listening even by Khanate standards, as if to make up for their absence with their most uncomfortable and confrontational collection yet. Even vocalist Alan Dubin sounds utterly deranged like an unapologetic soul spewing its venom from whatever cavernous ring of hell it now resides due to its unspeakable sins.
While no official reunion or tour dates have been announced as of yet, they have revealed that all four previous LPs would be receiving the reissue treatment in the near future, delighting avid followers of aurally debauched soundscapes the world over. Whether you’re already a member of the cult, or a newcomer to the nightmare fuel that is Khanate, you’re sure to abandon all hope once spiralling down their musical psychosphere, and realising why their return is such a joyous delight within the realms of uncompromising metallic extremity.
ZB
Zanias – Chrysalis (Fleisch Germany)
Criminally underrated as they go, Zanias (Alison Lewis) returns for her third full-length album, Chrysalis, following up 2021’s Fleisch debut Unearthed. Just as a chrysalis is an intermediary stage between something larval and something fully developed, the album explores Lewis’ recent experiences of transitionings-between; moving gracefully through grief, evading burnout, escaping capitalism.
“Darkwave empress” is just one of many popular crownages to have been ascribed to Zanias over the years. But Chrysalis hears her move out from just this, indulging in increasingly dark-fantastical, glossy sonics. And that’s not to mention her newfound use of a very contemporary visual style. An ultra-sleek, almost wyvernal abstract sigil appears on the cover, screaming “edgy, experimental, electronic” – not always the case for Zanias. Every sound is imbued with a synaesthetic turquoise, adding an arcane feel to the album.
It’s clean and maximized to the glossiest brim, evoking the glint of an age-bitten, magic weapon: our highlight ‘Metrics’ comes as a delectable slice of metallic ethereal pop, for all intents structured like a standard pop track, but stylistically dipped in an intense sonic banishment liquid. Stuttering harmonies play out in its reflections, a theme also translated to the lasery ‘Lovelife’, which echoes a sad ghost of hi-NRG with it sixteenth-note FMs, before transcending upwards into a stunning white noise-laden climax. Lyrically and vocally, Zanias keeps it mournful and pastoral, with the track ‘Closing’ refraining “somebody (who) loves me watched me die,” and the dulcimery ‘Teatree’, on which she confesses “it’s kinda hard to get where I’m going so far”. We imagine a banshee in equine form, embarking on an inhospitable quest.
Our favourite albums are the ones in which every sound seems to have come from the same world. And while it’s not without easy references – fans of Waterbaby, Fauness, and Cocteau Twins will all love this – the playful genre tags that come with Chrysalis tell us all about the very original world it came from: “gravewave”, “icewave”… this is an impressive project, and a cohesive set of inspirations from which all other artists and producers should take note.
JIJ
Enforced – War Remains (Century Media)
Hailing from Richmond, Virginia, hardcore crossover thrash beasts Enforced have stood out in the scene thanks to their loyal adoration to the thrash metal titans they draw so much influence from. While many crossover acts such as Mindforce, Drain and Exhibition do their utmost to strike an ideal balance between the frenetic retro-riffage, technical leads and pummelling breakdowns, Enforced skew closer to the likes of Power Trip in terms of metallic bite with adjacent hardcore motifs.
Produced by Eternal Champion’s Arthur Rizk (Ghostemane, the aforementioned Power Trip), War Remains is the band’s much anticipated third full-length, following on from their breakout 2019 debut At The Gates, and the much heftier and more refined Kill Grid released in 2021.
Boasting the reliable bevvy of skull-caving grooves and trudging hardcore chugs such as on the bouncing title track, to Slayer’s Kerry King worship face-melting guitar solos on standout single ‘Hanged By My Hand’, Enforced find themselves in a unique middle-ground between the metal headbangers and hardcore kickboxers, embraced on both sides and bridging the still seismic gap between the two similar yet not identical scenes of heavy music.
Bruising, anthemic, and not afraid to either pay homage to their 80s heritage or channel much more modern hardcore venom, War Remains is the album many knew the band always had in them, and with a Century Media backing, it feels like their ideal time to lead the call for the ever-burgeoning crossover scene.
ZB
Bdrmm – I Don’t Know (Rock Action)
A new home for Hull shoegazers Bdrmm and with the move from Sonic Cathedral to Mogwai’s Rock Action comes a bump in quality too. Not that their 2020 debut album ‘Bedroom’ was shabby in any way, far from it, but I Don’t Know feels like a step up.
That said, it was recorded in the same studio (The Nave, Leeds) with the same producer (Alex Greaves) as their debut, so what’s the difference? “We’re still coming from the same place,” says singer-guitarist Ryan Smith, “but the influences have got much broader.” Boy, have they. Seems they’ve been checking out everyone from Steve Reich to Boards Of Canada and while the shoegaze foundations are still very much in place, they’ve build a new extension full of strings, synths, samples, beats and the like.
For example, opener ‘Alps’ slowly shimmers into view. With warm drones and melodic keys, not to mention an insistent beat deep in the background, it comes on like an ambient dance remix. The band reveal it was written as they drove through the Alps listening to “Thom Yorke’s electronic stuff”. It shows.
Of course, old habits die hard and they’ve not done a total volte-face. All this fresh listening they’ve been doing and the new-found influences it’s unearthed only compliments the vast walls of guitars on tracks like ‘It’s Just A Bit Of Blood’ or ‘Pulling Stitches’, while ‘We Fall Apart’ has that motorik groove which was much admired on their debut outing.
And then there’s the eight-minute plus closer ‘A Final Movement’. It’s a melancholic epic that gently retreats out of sight like the opener shimmered into view. Five minutes in the vocal fades and haunting strings strike up, the song swelling towards it conclusion and a gentle church bell fade.
It’s shoegaze for sure, but Bdrmm are bringing something new to the table here. All strength to them, this is a bold record.
NM
The Locust – Plague Soundscapes (reissue) (ANTI)
Los Angeles noisecore synthpunk insects The Locust are still regarded as one of the most ridiculous, absurd and challenging acts of the early 21st alternative scene. Dressed in matching insectoid morphsuits and playing an overwhelming concoction of mathematical grindcore and spazzed out punk, their formula was directly poised to be as diabolical as possible, whilst retaining a tongue-firmly-in-cheek quality due to their hilariously overlong song titles and political-driven hyperbolic lyrics.
Whilst remaining on indefinite hiatus following the release of their third and subsequently final album New Erections in 2007, the group would reform in 2019 for a slew of festival appearances adorned in new uniforms to usher in their next era, which would be tragically cut short by the untimely passing of drummer Gabe Serbian, ultimately putting an end to all future tour dates and plans for new material.
It’s a bittersweet concept then that the group’s masterwork, 2003’s incomparable Plague Soundscapes has finally been reissued for long time followers and newcomers alike to celebrate its 20th anniversary. Clocking in at 21 minutes spread out over 23 tracks, with barely any reaching the one-minute mark, the album was a shot of sugar-coated methamphetamine directly to the veins of an overly serious scene which succeeded at maximising, parodying and mutating punk to a state of frenetic shitheadedness that no group has ever come close to replicating.
From the squelching synths of ‘Live From The Russian Compound’, to the technical wizardry of ‘Teenage Mustache’, to the start/stop mangled groove of ‘The Half-Eaten Sausage Would Like To See You In His Office’, the ability of the group to marry head-melting compositional knowhow with severely deranged audible abandon, infuriated, captivated, confused and enthralled in equal measure, while their howling, bratty three-vocal pronged approach became their iconic/ironic calling card. And with initially bizarre yet eerily prophetic lyrical musings such as “Want to stay young? Well abort now, otherwise you’re going to make a great dead cop”, it’s abundantly clear how of, ahead, and not of any time or era The Locust truly were. In short, this is what would happen if members of Devo and The Residents started a grindcore band, and no further elaboration should be necessary.
ZB
Montreal’s Lunice has been a busy boy since debut LP CCCLX. A slew of singles and remixes have kept us going in the six years since, with contributions to video game soundtracks and movie scores reflecting both a broadening of project scope and, in wider terms, the increasing presence of electronic and ‘dance’ producers in mainstream visual culture products. This is before we come to the impressive live work ethic in the form of a relentless touring schedule, and, of course, his sometime collaborative platform with Hudson Mohawke, TNGHT which itself reignited in 2019 following its own six year break.
OPEN is very much a new bookend, then, reflecting where things have gone in the time between album one and now. In many ways, it continues to build on the foundations its predecessor laid. A sticky, head-nodding, hypnotising blend of humid hip hop, trap and bass-heavy beats, proving, among other things, that the studio head responsible is apparently capable of creating some of the densest and meatiest drums in town. Standout gems include the chip music-hued ‘Life Happening’, juke and garage influenced ‘Make Face’ and ‘Open’, and the playful-yet-heavy lead single ‘No Commas’ —one of the cuts featuring Cali Cartier.
MH
Loma Prieta – Last (Deathwish)
San Francisco screamo revivalists Loma Prieta have been keeping the underground emo-powerviolence/skramz concept at the forefront of their sprawling, cathartic sonics since 2005, releasing a slew of EPs, full-lengths and splits with other scene greats such as Italian legends Raein.
Returning a near-decade since the release of the expansive post-rock indebted 2015 LP Self Portrait, the years of lockdown, American political poison and the encroaching ugliness of the modern world have all come to be excised on Last, their sixth and most culminative work to date.
Retaining much of the mercurial melodies the group have embraced in their later years, cuts such as the unhinged ‘Sunlight’ and ‘Circular Saw’ teem with purposefully compressed, antagonistic fuzz, smothering the tortured vocal shrieks at every turn. The latter harbours melancholic slowcore shoegazing motifs akin to influences such as Saetia or City Of Caterpillar, which are explored to full effect on the near-six-minute penultimate track ‘Glare’, offering a swaying dichotomy between muted vulnerability and despairing abrasion.
After an eight-year creative respite, Last feels like as if Lome Prieta never left; distilling over two decades of hardcore, screamo and post-rock into one harrowing, hyper-aggressive yet equally delicate work of cathartic expression.
ZB
This week’s reviewers: Neil Mason, Oli Warwick, Zach Buggy, Martin Hewitt, Jude Iago James.
