Archive for Sacrilege

Review: Our Place of Worship is Silence

Posted in Reviews with tags , , on March 28, 2017 by Magadh

Our Place of Worship is Silence, The Embodiment of Hate, Broken Limbs Recordings

 

opwis1This came out in October of last year and I really meant to review it then. But at that point I was so drowned in real world foolishness that it slipped away. But I guess that’s how it always seems to work. I’m seldom right up on the cutting edge of events.

 

The first thing that needs to be said about this record is that it nearly caused me to wreck my car on the highway. This was not due to its overwhelming quality, but rather to the peculiarity of its recording values. I have a car stereo that’s old enough to where I can’t like my phone to it wirelessly and have to depend on a hardline connection. Quite often the first sign that the jack is breaking is that only one of the stereo tracks will play. As I made the turn onto I-90, I must admit that I was rather distracted at the thought that this was happening and my efforts to jiggle the cable back to life I nearly ran off the road.

 

opowis2The fact of the matter is that this record sounds like it was recorded in a sewer pipe by a crew of bigfoots (bigfeet?) who stumbled on to someone’s gear all set up and decided to bang out some death metal. Strange as it may sound to say it, this actually works. There are lots of records that one could point to in which the the deficiencies of the recording actually end up adding, in some only partially expressable way, to the quality of the output. One example might be Sacrilege’s Behind the Altars of Madness, where the imprecision of the recording process gives the music a dark, swirling quality that makes up for any lack of clarity is made up for richly in terms of the atmosphere it creates.

 

The Embodiment of Hate has a grubby, discontinuous quality which holds the interest quite nicely. I’ve read other reviewers compare this early Nihilist demos, but to me it sounds like Nominon, especially in their demo phase (which can be heard here, here, and here). In any case, the comparisons are more about tone and texture than the actual music itself. The music is guttural, the tuning low, I mean really low. I could probably hear this music better if I was an elephant or perhaps some species of gray whale, but the parts that I can hear I like.

opowis3I suppose that my only real beef with this record is that off all the changes in level amongst the various instruments I find that the guitars are never quite as loud as I’d like them. Of course, I’m a guitarist, so caveat very much emptor. I feel like I can hear different things more prominently at different times. The effect of this is to give each cut an individuality that their collective grunginess and simplicity might not intrinsically convey.

 

In all seriousness, this is a pretty ripping slab of death metal. The riffs are dark and unrelenting, and the vocalist sounds like he’s spent the last six months gargling masonry nails. They’ve found a way to write simple, straighforward metal songs that keep you interested. It doesn’t sound clean or clear, but it sounds right and that is, in fact, a lot more important.

Crust/D-Beat Playlist

Posted in Playlists with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 3, 2013 by Magadh

We’ve been brewing up some weird stuff down in the bunker, but through the fumes it occurred to us that people might have an interest in what we were spinning in our long nights over the soilent vats. We’re going to try to offer up playlists on a bi-monthly basis, each with a thematic base. The theme here (as the title indicates) is a combination of crust and d-beat.  Discerning listeners will note that there are a couple of things in this list that are a bit marginal in terms of these categories, but I think they fit in terms of atmosphere. In the end, it’s up to you to decide.


1. Skitsystem, “Apokalypsens Svarta Änglar
2. Martyrdöd, “Vägen Ur
3. From Ashes Rise, “The Final Goodbye
4. Hellcrawler, “Devastation
5. Infäme, “Adeu Amarg
6. After the Bombs, “Bloody Aftermath
7. Monastery, “Mutilating
8. Passiv Dödshjalp, “Virtuella Bojor
9. Viimeinen Kolonna, “Sinä Häviät
10. Livstid, “Permafrost
11. Misantropic, “Raise the Gallows
12. G-Anx, “Victims of Our Ignorance
13. Instinto, “Dominación
14. Crude S.S., “Destroy Capitalism
15. Anti-Cimex, “Braincell Battle
16. Final Warning, “The Bunker
17. Disfear, “Misanthropic Generation
18. Warcollapse, “Timebomb State
19. Mördare, “Rivers of Diesel
20. Masakari, “Rapid Dominance
21. Kvoteringen, “Sjuk Värld
22. Discharge, “Doomsday
23. Infernöh, “Länge Leve Mig
24. Wolfpack, “A Basic Urge to Kill
25. Sacrilege, “Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Magadh

Review: War Master

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on January 18, 2013 by Magadh

War Master Pyramid of the Necropolis Torture Garden Pictures Company

WMCoverIt’s been said that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and this is an adage that holds with special intensity in the world of underground music. I know that there is a general idea that rolls around in the scene that what people are doing is supposed to be, in some significant sense, original. With music as simple and uncomplicated as hardcore and the various variants of metal that surround it, there is very little new under the sun. This is not exactly tragic, at least to my way of thinking. In the first place, most of the bands that I listened to in my youth were so unstable that they could barely get there shit sufficiently together to record even on album’s worth of material. And then there was the case of the bands that surpassed this threshold but probably shouldn’t have. How many times did one experience the case of bands whose first release was awesome and who then saw fit to pollute their legacy by recording utter crap as a follow up. Case in point: Sacrilege. Behind the Realms of Madness was one of the finest examples of the productive crossover between hardcore and thrash metal in Great Britain in the early 1980s. Their follow up, Within the Prophecy, was a monuments to self-indulgent metal riffing featuring boring and interminable solos, and eight minute songs.

In light of these ruminations, I give you War Master. On hearing the name of this band you would be forgiven for thinking that they were basically a bunch of Bolt Thrower worshippers. And, of course, you’d be right. Pyramid of the Necropolis is straight out of the Bolt Thrower playbook circa 1989. Having talked at so much length about bands that made unwise stylistic decisions, I suppose it is worth acknowledging that after their first two records, Bolt Thrower went on to release the same record about six times over. For me that was ok. In any case, I will say that War Master’s moniker is slightly ironic in the sense that the music that they play sounds much more like the Bolt Thrower of Realm of Chaos than it does War Master. Anyway, I will say that War Master the band do play some excellent guttural crust that is tuned down so low that only elephants can actually hear all of it. Given that what they are trying to do is to mine a vein that another band fully established, War Master do an excellent job. They pay homage to the sound without trivializing it, and that is pretty impressive given what they’ve set out to do.

Magadh

Adventures in Punkland, Part 1

Posted in Articles with tags , , , , , on July 10, 2012 by Magadh

In January of 1986, my family moved from Walla Walla, Washington to the little town of Long Eaton, outside of the city of Nottingham in the U.K. I was very excited about this. I hated my high school and I hated Walla Walla even more. I figured anything had to be better than that. I only had the vaguest idea what was happening with the punk scene in the U.K. Looking at human culture a place like Walla Walla in those days was sort of like astronomers looking at objects thousands of light years away. For me, the reality of punk in those days was the Punk and Disorderly compilations, plus a few Crass and Chaos U.K. records thrown in for good measure.

I told my friends that I was going to live in the U.K. Some of them were jealous, wanting just as much to get out of Walla Walla as I did. Mostly they were pretty excited about the idea that I was going to be able to see what amounted to us to the Mecca of punk rock, as we understood it from repeated viewings of the UK DK video. My buddy Jerry, who was I think a little annoyed that this opportunity was being bestowed on someone so much less cool than him, said, “you’ll probably just get beat up.”

Old Market Square, Nottingham

Long Eaton was a little town with not much going on, but it was only about a half an hour’s bus ride from central Nottingham. On the first Saturday of our stay there, I rode the bus into town to see what was what. I made my way from the bus station under Broad Marsh shopping center up into the middle of town, all the while looking for some way to get my bearings. When I got to Old Market Square, I found an anti-apartheid march forming up. I think at the time I assumed this kind of thing happened every day. There were some young punk rock types in the crowd to whom I introduced myself. They were quite friendly and gave me some pointers about things to do and places to go.

Probably the best of these was the direction to visit a record store called Select-a-Disc that was just off the square. Finding Select-a-Disc was a real piece of good fortune. They had more punk records there than I had ever seen in one place before. [At that point it had been to Time Travellers in Seattle, as well as the old Tower Records by Seattle Center, but Select-a-Disc put them both in the shade. I wasn’t to see a better record store until I moved to Portland and discovered 2nd Avenue, but that’s a different story]. I looked around for a couple of hours like a kid in a candy store. Finally, I realized it was getting late and I was going to have to split. Aside from my bus fare, I only had a couple of pounds on me, so I quickly bought something that fitted into my price range and headed out the door.

What I bought, completely by serendipity, was the Anglican Scrape Attic flexi. Considering the it was done on the basis of about five seconds’ reflection, it was well done. I think I must have bought it because it had a song on it by Sacrilege, who I’d never heard at that point, but the cover of whose Behind the Realms of Madness I’d seen (and been intrigued by) in MRR. In addition, it included cuts by the Japanese bands The Execute and Lip Cream, another by Hirax, and, most crucially as it turned out, one song by Concrete Sox. I say crucially because I discovered when I got home that Concrete Sox were actually from Nottingham.

I should point out that in those days I was pretty innocent of the burgeoning crossover movement that was going on between the punk and underground metal scenes. Most of what I knew came from attacks on this trend in MRR. Listening to Anglican Scrape Attic was a seriously mind altering experience. Not only was the music different than most of the punk that I had heard up to that point, but it had an overtly political dimension that was, if not entirely new to me, at least more prominent than in most of the music that I had heard in the U.S. The Concrete Sox cut, “Eminent Scum (Parts 1+2)” was about animal rights and hunt saboteuring, neither of which were the kind of things that got much play in the North America, even from more political bands like the Dead Kennedys. Until that moment, I think I was blissfully unaware that fox hunting actually went on.

I was determined to learn more, so I wrote a letter to Concrete Sox explaining who I was and asking if I could meet them. I must have included my telephone number, because a few days later I got a call at my parents’ house from their drummer John. He asked me if I wanted to come down to their practice space, which was at a community center somewhere in Nottingham (I don’t remember where now). I was kind of shocked. As a small town kid, I sort of expected them to blow me off.

I didn’t take this picture, but I have one just like it somewhere. I can still remember Vic wearing that shirt. It was from the Bob Geldof Run the World thing (and was meant ironically in Vic’s case, of course)

As I recall, I met John in front of the tower where his council flat was, which was above the Victoria Center shopping mall (what a strange place for low income housing). He took me to where they practiced and introduced me to the rest of the band. I was kind of apprehensive, but it turned out that they were a really nice bunch of guys. When I walked in, their guitar player Victim (or Vic for short) was just plugging in. He cut loose with a burst of music that was faster and louder than anything I had ever heard in my life. Their singer, Sean, was a hulking fellow (or at least so I recall), but he was jovial and had a habit of saying, “Jolly, jolly good” in a peculiar imitation of a British upper crust accent.

Les and Sean from Concrete Sox

Their bass player Les walked in with a cassette that somebody had made for him of Metallica’s Ride the Lightning. This kind of surprised me, since where I came from the people who were into punk didn’t really associate much with people who were into metal bands, even crazy ones like Metallica. It would have been different if I had been from some bigger city like SF or LA, but being from the hinterlands, I was kind of behind the times. Anyway, after chatting with the band briefly, they got down to the business at hand. I had only ever heard one of their songs, and that only on the little turntable in our living room. For the next hour or so, I was treated to their full set, played at blistering, cyclonic pace and at a volume that caused my eardrums to compress. It was the start of my real education in punk.

To be continued…

Magadh