Why I Grind.

In order that I might avoid repeating content and occupy yet more internet space reviewing dirge I thought instead to pose a question: Why does one like Grindcore?

The underlying motivation for this can be sourced at various springs, but recently I have found it necessary to go over the tired old quota of qualifiers as to why this particular form isn't the same as Death Metal or Punk- often this becomes a conversation more about defending and justifying grind's existence rather than extolling it's virtues.

To overcome this, then, I elect to note features of Grind that I deem to be it's property, the 'unique selling points' to borrow from the very ungrind world of marketing terminology. The identified aspects are just a beginning, I hope people will contribute their own ideas.

1. FRANTICNESS.
Without getting bogged down in the kung-fu competitiveness of drumming technique and speed, for me the foremost aspect of Grind is it's hyperactive, fidgety attitude.
This surfaces in many ways- perhaps most obviously in the ubiquitous 'microsong' - and permeates not only the actual music itself but also the aesthetic at large.
The nature of Grind's songs is frantic: the structures change very quickly and usually provide no quarter for the musician's ability, often benefitting from ignoring said abilities in favour of just banging it out as fast as possible.
To contrast this have you ever noticed how despite incredible drumming much Death Metal seems plodding and slow?

2. FUCK YOUR RULES.
Music as a whole is beset by code.
Flowing not only from the audiences requirements of having their entertainment product clearly labelled, but pouring top-down from bands trying to set out attainable goals for their music. This includes Grind, like virtually any other anything ever.
However the rules that get fucked are the rules of the music business.
Grindcore operates in a way that ERODES the values of other music- ignoring the behest of quality and production. Again it benefits from from this counteraction; much of the best grind is incredibly under-produced, and packaged in simple black-and-white imagery. Ok so this is undoubtedly leftover genetics from Punk DNA, however Grind evolved this idea- bound the concept of anti-quality up with a fierce attitude to create a non-style.
The minute you start to properly produce a Grind band BAM!!! oh shit they have become Death Metal, or Punk or Crust etc etc ad nauseum.
Perhaps true Grind is platonic: an unobtainable idea that can never be corrupted into being.

3. ENJOY YOURSELF RIGHT NOW.
Grind is fun.
Sure but so are a lot of genres, right?
Grind is like being held hostage by fun!
The music is so lively and energetic that the natural reaction is to start smashing shit the fuck up. And I mean that in a the best of ways, unlike the live scenes of the other extreme genres. Maniacal screaming, catchy riffs and blastbeats combine with a force strong enough to blur the boundaries of positive crowd behaviour and negative toughguy postures- resulting in a delightful mix of crowd surfing and silly wrestling. This is because the music is IMMEDIATE and FUN.
Due to Grind's disregard of quality and chaotic nature the live spectacle will probably be an exhilarating mess. It won't matter, don't let your mate who's well into Meshuggah whine about the instrument levels and things going in-and-out of key (or lacking one in the first place). These attributes are the entire reason to be seeing a Grind band in the first place- they are going to be as worn out as up-river salmon after 15 mins of playing their guts out (and if they are TRUE like say, Wormrot, having watched the entire gig from the front) so band and audience will come together in a commune of blissful exhaustion. Or you could go to a Metal gig and watch people nod a bit and buy expensive t-shirts, it's you life.

Those are my thoughts, GIVE ME YOURS.

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LOVER (Total Fucking Destruction - Hater, 2010)

Choose-your-own-review of TFD's album HATER!!

1. It's Saturday afternoon and you are supposed to be writing a review of this TFD album for some blog or whatever- but HELL NO GIRLFRIEND! you recently lost your magic pen, the proximity of which is required to be able to write of review that is any good at all.

Boldly you unzip a mediafire rar and prepare to do your best all by yourself.

DO YOU LIKE GRINDCORE? yes goto:10 no goto:5 I'd rather look for this magic pen! goto: 11

2. The production here is quite good, if a tad drum-oriented (understandable considering) and the song structures are well thought out.

DO YOU LIKE CLEAN SOUND? Yes goto:3 no goto4:

3. As you continue listening you start to really dig the overall vibe, but wonder if it's all a bit too tongue in cheek IS IT? yes goto:8 no goto:6

4. The problem is Grind should always be about blasting to fuck punk-arse volumes, not this studio malarky, but having said that it is Rich Hoak so maybe you GIVE IT ANOTHER CHANCE? yes goto:10 no goto:7

5. Not liking Grindcore you wonder why you ever let Alex pester you into doing this silly reviewing game in the first place- you load up gmail (or similar) and prepare to tender your resignation email when PROF busts in- "Great Scott I'm back again!!" but that's another review...

6. You decide a sense of humour is a good thing for extreme music to have, and moreover this album is full of good ideas in terms of riffs and dynamics. MADE UP YOUR MIND YET? yes goto:9 no goto:10

7. Nah, shag this for a game of hopscoth you decide to go listen to your ASSUCK vinyl instead, but realise only digital music exists now BECAUSE YOU LIVE IN THE FAR FUTURE!!! DAH-DAH!!!

8. You just can't get over the sense that this isn't played quite straight enough, but it is enjoyable so do you GIVE IT ANOTHER CHANCE? yes goto 10 no goto 7

9. SO there we have it HATER is pretty darn good overall, irreverent, catchy and blasty in equal measures. TEN GOLD STARS! Ok, having done that you decide now is the time to dust off some old plastic classics GOTO 7

10. Ok, Grind is go! However the owner of this blog (Alex Layzell) has been pestering the fuck out of you on FB chat recently, kind of OFF PUTTING? Yes goto:7 no goto:2

11. Ok, before we get started on this TFD business you decide you reallllly need that magic pen which enables you to write the review blogs all the girls don't like! You brave up and wedge your hand down the back of the sofa and THERE IT IS! THE MAGIC PEN!! Ok you think, now I can get on with this bullshit... buuuuutt you have been meaning to see if that vinyl you bought last week off ebay sounds good VINYL FIRST, OR REVIEW? vinyl goto: 7 review goto: 2

Haves a facebookes

Aside: to best enjoy this choose-your-own-review you should repeat it repeatedly (actual TFD joke)

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Don't Be Swindler (My two cents ((or pence, really) on the physical format debate)

A few days ago I was reading this post on the gold-standard of grind blogs Grind & Punishment. For those how have not read it I'll sum it up: the author has finally acquiesced to his music no longer being in a physical format due to the prevalence of digital media.

+++++bzzzzzzt++++

Now this little old nugget of worms caused particularly strong feelings in me gulliver, and I immediately posted up a comment what where I spoke my brain.

And then it occurred that mayhap Grandpa Oram's outlook on this might be, heaven forfend, informed by a different set of experiences than yer average kid who knows how to fetch music down a series of tubes.

So let's begin by stating my gut feeling, and then I'll try and expand upon it.

I think that digital-only music basically harms music, in the long run.

GOSH! WOW! WHAT!? etc etc...

++++++BZZZZZT+++++++++

I also must make it clear that I download a fantastic amount of music. BUT WAIT! How can I possibly find a moral perch between these two seemingly opposed aspects?

I consider it pretty straightforward: downloading music in order to find what one likes is much like listening to radio, or getting given a mixtape. In many cases I will never see a real copy of whatever-it-is in front of me so stealing it from the electric ether is most likely the only option.

And taking that as a given I don't think many will opt to actually pay for that privilege, not really. Be honest about it.

And here we arrive at a bit of an issue, powerful enough to warrant discussion despite it's obviousness.

Someone has paid for that music at some point. These days that person is probably going to be the band themselves (especially if you like grindy old bunk like I do). So the underground musician is paying to entertain you: that is my first objection.

++++++++BLOGCAST INTERRUPRTED+++++++++

Greetings earthbound readers of unpopular music related entity 'Grind to Death'.

This is a communique from far-future Humans (now called Hoomanz) that have colonised the universe, sort of like in your contemporary film Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure only different enough to avoid copyright infringement.

Anyway we are just intervening into what our futuregoogle stats has termed the most negative post on the primitive early web to point out all the obvious logical flaws that 'Luke Oram' (real name, Luke Dram) has made in this post. He needs to big-time get over his starving musician bullshit and grow at least one pair. Here in the actual future us Hoomanz enjoy universally free information, and file sharing porn and music was it's inception. So good work.

+++++++++OVER AND OUT+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Now personally I don't have much issue with making music for free, christ knows I have done it enough over the years (all music available free online, countless trips around the country to play gigs for no pay) and I very much doubt that will ever change. But I do see a odd perspective creeping in: many will say such things as 'but it's your hobby' or 'other people are willing to do this for free so why should I pay for your crap music Luke?' and those observations are of course correct- if I turn down a gig someone else will indeed take it for nothing, and yes, I do this because I enjoy it.

I consider this to be a fundamental risk to music however.

You see these days the only currency in music is attention. There is no money actually in the act of creating or playing music, only in the cultural capital created by doing this which is leveraged against tertiary sales like tshirts. I believe a band should be first and foremost a band, making music and playing it. Merch is fine but is not the reason why I bothered to learn all the riffs.

So us bands find ourselves in the somewhat narcissistic position of paying for that attention by funding everything with no return ever; I wish music could be more than that but I can at least accept it. But here comes the next problem: little old band saves up their cash and records some music, plonks it online and waits for the interest to come rolling in but it never comes. Or maybe it does, very hard to tell how many people have your music once it's proliferated across the mindbending multitude of P2P networks.

Unbeknownst to them hundreds of people download their music, but because they don't know about it little old band assumes no-one cares.

Gigging goes just as bad for them alas, the interested audience have no direct relationship with the group and aren't in the same location so no-one turns up. Six months later little old band calls it quits because they think there is no interest and as musicians they owe rent and shit.

Ok ok, so far I am being a bit glib and pessimistic but let me assure you this is from experience.

SO you ask me LUKE, HOW DO I AVOID BEING A PARASITE FAN?

Well my young apprentice, there are a few ways available to the enterprising chap or chapette.

First and foremost music like grind is a community, and if you claim to love it you need to be supporting it somehow, this could mean chartering a team to find a record shop still trading and buying some music, or it could mean actually going to see some bands play live, right in front of you!! This way you'll be giving the music you consume not only some money from the gate, but the actual manna of attention! A good gig is what keeps a band going, what makes them bother to release that cool ep you swagged from soulseek yadda yadda yadda.

++++++++BLOGCAST INTERRUPTED AGAIN+++++++++++++

Dear humans of the 21st century, we are actually from the future unlike the previous interruption. We are very sorry we didn't get here in time to prevent it. The news is grim, here in the far future we are ruled by a race of heartless robot masters, sort of like your contemporary film Terminator only different enough etc etc. We urge you to stop file sharing right now- the computer virus that spawned our digital overlords began as a corrupted song in a Metallica album that was being fileshared. We replaced Metallica with agents in an attempt to stop the initial spread, but this is the second film now and things have gotten worse. Please heed the warnings of Agent Luke Oram

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You can also improve your own experience of the music by appreciating it's finer qualities, and by this I mean not listening to everything through the inbuilt speakers of a laptop. Bass-less tinny zero dynamics crap is not music, it's not how that music actually sounds at all- it's like being a Botticelli enthusiast but only clicking 'save images as' from a google search. DOES THIS SOUND LIKE THE TYPE of person your child-self wanted to grow up into? A dull, disengaged collector of not-even-real music files? Thought not.

Having said all that I do not like the elitist record collector fallacy either, but it is a different kettle of oranges so just take it as read I don't mean become one of those either. Hah, good luck avoiding my judgemental wrath on this one buster you have it stacked the fuck against you, I've been backtracing your internets and you've totally downloaded the entire slap-a-ham catalogue, AND DELETED THE COVER ART TO SAVE HDD SPACE you philistine, the art is part of the album! Which brings me to another point:

When I was a child, running in the night I saw a cool album cover in a shop. I won't mention what it was but it had a awesome looking well-know monster on it and 23 years later that is why I like the sound of guitars, because I bought that album. uuuuuuurrrrRRRGH I AM NOT LIKE YOU, I COME FROM ANOTHER and eventually forged a life-long relationship with vinyl as a music ritual. It could be any form of physical format however, it doesn't matter so long as it completes the proper fan<>band transaction.

So anyway, as you can all tell I'm against everything now with no real solution just like everyone else. Whoooope.

+++++++++FINAL BLOGCAST INTERRUPTION+++++++++

Right you lot, this is the actual future here, not like those other two imposters. Let us tell you this, here in the future no-one cares about your weak problems- we got space invaders, mole men and twelve different Zombie holocausts to deal with so do you think we give any thought about how some 3000000 year old spoilt chumps listened to long-dead formats of something I'm informed was called music? Hell no buster. I'm called LUUUUK ORRAMM, distant descendant of Luke Oram as it happens. Basically we believe he started this post as a genuine moan about the state of music but got worried it was boring and somewhat pointless. Anyway I'm the last human alive and I'm just about to finally defeat the Crawling Terror from Dimension Zogg by exploding all the universes. Good day.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

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Blast to the Future (XharoldshitmanX - Driven By Complete And Utter Disgust)

13:23, 10/03/11

Luke Oram stands in a large room that is full of clocks and junk, in order that you the viewer might be appropriately suggested of the concept of time.

Gingerly he un-clips a cd from it's case and leans forward to power up a stereo- it's big al right, huge speakers and probably pumps out 4.4 gigawatts of power when shit is cranked.

There is a rumble as the unit comes online and Luke readies a prodding digit, momentarily to hit play.

It is at this moment the door flings open and an older, scholarly gentleman (let's call... Prof) comes gambolling in, evidently excited.

"Luke, whatever you do, don't play that cd!" he exclaims.

"I already did Prof, and there's nothing on it..."

"Great Scott!"

19:00, 08/08/2010

Somewhere in bleakest Perth (that's in Scotland, fact fans) four canny lads have assembled into a powerviolence type band, and are just about to begin their first rehearsal but something seems to be amiss.

They are looking anxious because their fifth member has not arrived.

"Where the hell has that fool got to?" moans the guitarist "I cannae tell, but it spells doom for us" replies his drum bashing comrade.

The band look dejected and begin to pack up their gear, seeming resigned to this just not working.

13:27, 10/03/11

"Christ Prof, the image on the cd is vanishing" proclaims a desperate Luke as he waves the quickly-fading jewel case infront of Prof's nose.

"We gotta act fast Lukey, or this review you are trying to do is going to fall short of your already considerably poor standard!... to the Mondeo!"

19:30, 08/08/2010

The last of the doomed band members pauses as he leaves the practise space to flick of the light, he seems downtrodden as the other guys have already left. Suddenly Luke and Prof appear as if out of no-where.

"Hey fella, you need to get back in there and bust out the sodding blasts, pronto!" screams luke.

"Ach I cannae, they've all quit. We should have never got that lazy git involved in this"

"Wait! I have a way we can push this post even further out of whack" pipes in Prof.

21:30, 08/08/1984

It's prom night at Perth high school, and one young couple is about to fall deeply in love and become future parents to a no-show band member when Luke and Prof pounce out from behind a chip shop.

"Hey pal, freeeeedom my arse" cries Luke at the amorous chap, who immediate headbutts Luke right in the chops. The ploy works however, as his sweetheart gets bored and wanders off to buy a battered mars bar.

19:00, 08/08/2010

Somewhere in bleakest Perth (that's in Scotland, fact fans) four canny lads have assembled into a powerviolence type band, and are just about to begin their first rehearsal, everything in place they start to tear into viscous grinding power, seeing as the previous bit means the no-show guy now never existed in the first place.

13:23, 10/03/11

Luke Oram stands in a large room that is full of clocks and junk, in order that you the viewer might be appropriately suggested of the concept of time.

Gingerly he un-clips a cd from it's case and leans forward to power up a stereo- it's big al right, huge speakers and probably pumps out 4.4 gigawatts of power when shit is cranked.

There is a rumble as the unit comes online and Luke readies a prodding digit, momentarily to hit play.

It is at this moment the door flings open and an older, scholarly gentleman (let's call... Prof) comes gambolling in, evidently excited.

"Luke, how was that xharoldshitmanx cd?"

"Really sweet Prof! I loved the bassy sound of it and was just about to try it out on the big stereo!"

"Great Scott, they are some Great Scotts!"

"Indeed" replies Luke "but I'm not sure how I'm going to pad out a review of 3 tracks... hmmm I need some kind of terrible gimmick..."

THE END.

ABOVE: I hope they don't mailbomb me after reading this shit.

HAVE A MYSPACES

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Off the Hook (Butcher ABC, Butchered feast of being)

When I was a child there was a dark and dingy steam not far from where I lived.

Us local kids would spend a lot of time constructing dangerously unsafe fortresses in the slimy trees that sprouted over the stream from it's ochre banks.

But there was this one tree.

Must have been dead straight going up the trunk for about 20 feet and then the tree suddenly fanned out, and sat there in that bristled crown was the shack of the Hippy Man.

Us local kids were very scared of the Hippy Man: a shadowy figure for whom it was alleged clothing held no interest. The Hippy man: beleaguered mental shambles taken flight from an asylum. The Hippy Man: he who had shown his willy to a young Timmy down the road, who was ever since a mute.

I never saw the Hippy Man, and being scared of heights never made to climb up that tree in order that I might observe his rotten shack.

Although one particularly strange summer I began to see him in my dreams. All us local kids did.

Many years later I would hear the sludgey, gorey deathgrind of Japanese brutalist BUTCHER ABC, and this would lead me to dramatically betray my readership by admitting the these two events have no relation whatsoever.

ABOVE: well it looks like the guy from that documentary, so fuck it.

BUTCHER ABC makes Satanically groovy filth, often with a wee tot of 'grindrock' thrown in as well for good measure (singer 'analtoshit' also handles/d vocals is my faves CSSO). On this particular release almost every track has a meaty riff to stab into your carcass (it's a butcher joke, get it? GET IT?) often paired with especially glottal throatings that may or may not be pitch-shifted at various points, when the tempo picks up the vocals take on more of a Japanese hardcore flavour.

It is formulaic but successful; following this pleasing pattern to produce proven output.

And like a lot of Japanese extremity BABC is infused with a lively sense of fun throughout, very much seasoned in character and left to mature for 21 days (yeah, getting tenuous now). In fact often I am reminded of Coffins only more upbeat (there's probably some kind if relation between these two groups, they were both in that same documentary I mentioned in the caption) and with a less bass-heavy sound that focuses more on the vocal and drum dynamic.

For me the slightly different cultural references found in JapBrutal music like BABC produce a somewhat incongruous effect: it all seems slightly fresher due to being that little bit different to the hundreds of euro goregrind groups, I don't immediately understand where they are coming from and exactly where they are going so the music still has the ability to surprise and entertain me.

Butcher ABC are just on the edge of this world and in being so remain interesting due to being forever out of reach.

Just like the Hippy Man.

Perhaps there is a relationship after all.

Have a LINKS

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OBSEEN EXSTREAM (Maruosa, Exstream 2011)

You know what riles my blood?

Poser chumps who claim to like violent sounds but actually are just following fashion.

Now Steve, I hear you say, surely all music has a fashion aspect to it? Even grind?

My response would be; of course it does, and don't call me Shirley. Or Steve.

However attractive a gateway to a scene, following something purely because you like wot the people wot like it like to look like makes you a glib effort vampire adorning yourself with the chance aesthetics of someone's genuine passion. Moreover it makes you into a soulless hipster (aside: if that upsets you it's because you are already a soulless hipster, sorry) and I suggest you direct your browser away from this fine blog henceforth.

Years of being this much of a cantankerous sod has made me seek some kind of voight-kampff test to determine which of my many, many, many acquaintances is a real human who likes music and

which are replicants.

The best method so so far discovered is to take SUBJECT A: grind fan claimant and make them listen to something like MARUOSA.

You see, this kind of abusive electronic music is the same as grindcore, but arriving from of different place altogether.

Freshly dropped from the consistently awesome GRINDCORE KARAOKE is the rather descriptively titled EXSTREAM, latest release from Japanese speaker-botherer MARUOSA.

It's brutanic, a hyper-confusing melange of digital blasts, aggro-style ranting and guitar slams and despite the overall 'digital feel' it's very song-oriented. In fact it's catchy! A lot of the tracks have a upbeat (as well as up tempo) feel, taken the terrorising nature of the music as a given you can tell it's maker is having an absolute whale of a time with this, which for me it totally refreshing.

Too much earbashing audio takes the easy route of covering itself with obvious samples in a tired attempt at attaining an oppressive sense of anguish (as recently covered HERE). The only thing oppressive about EXSTREAM is the square-waved 808 kick pounding you in the ossicles.

ABOVE: fuck you, y'know?

As far as this reviewer is concerned cutting up sampled beats and sounds is just as valid an expression of true grinding freakery as learning to play guitars (which we all know are for old men anyway) so before you all give me one billion comments about laptops aren't grindcore I invite you all to re-read my opening glop and take a long hard look in the shower.

And if that hasn't convinced you to give this a go then my name isn't Austin Derbyshire*

HAVE A LINKS:

MYSPACE

GRINDCORE KARAOKE

*it isn't

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Grant Ou Cher a Listen (Gran Toucher)

You guessed wrong folks, this wont be about any emperor's new clothes popular singer, it's about an underground UK band that hail from the middle of nowhere.

Being stuck in Exeter can't be easy for those wanting to grind, so I consider it a kind of duty to gather whatever attention this article may generate and deposit it all over GRAN TOUCHER.

The band don't have much music available at the minute (some myspace demo type stuff is up) but before you all go straight to the comments in order that I might be lambasted for daring to feature such new music let it be in mind how DIY I am, (much more than you) and to me last week is ten years ago and tomorrow is next year. YEAH. or do I mean....

Anyway the point is GT recently posted up a pretty promising video of a gig in Camborne (That's in Cornwall. Seriously a grind band played in Cornwall. Cornwall is like 5 hours drive SOUTH of here) wherein the comedy west country plebbing about that opens the vid gives way to some rather nice Power Violence stuff- lots of blasts and some quite choice slow bits so we might obtain the state known as mosh.

ABOVE: I'm a cider drinker, I drinks me cider all day etc etc

This more PV influenced sound is good, beats the deathier stuff the band have on offer via social networking by a long way, and should be putting them a bit ahead of the curve- in their area I gather the dominant sound is still the kind of lifeless and played-out DM everyone was doing 5 years ago- The vocal style has also developed, more embittered with hate or perhaps just more distorted due to camera microphones being overdriven. Either way I prefer cheap live recordings to cheap demos any day of the week so it's double thumbs up girlfriend.

Hopefully all this effort might amount to GT being able to access some quality support slots sometime soon.

Until then you will all just have to watch this distorted-ass video: You may want to skip it on a bit if you can't deal with the beauty of the wes cunry accent- but that would qualify you as a clown now wouldn't it...

Have a myspace

Pour your disdain for me into the comments section, below.

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Industrious, Deft (Prumyslova Smrt)

Sorry chaps but I'm about to pull a gamechanger: rather review a specific release I just want to draw peoples (supposed) attention to this band that I really like.

Prumyslova Smrt (which I am "reliably" informed could be pronounced prew-me-slova smerrrt) come from a place with one of the best grind scenes in the world; the Czech Republic.

I could write an essay (maybe I will, hmmmm) on the volume of decent groups operating in CZ, and it seems to be more widely recognised in mainland Europe than is evidenced in conversations I have with English-language countries grinders.

In fact once I was speaking with a Polish dude at a crust gig and he told me CZ has so much of this stuff because "it is athiest country", and that guy seemed pretty on the ball.

ABOVE: Artwork from their split with Valhalla Pacifists.

Their name translates as "Industrial

Death" and it's a good job I don't speak Czech or I would have avoided a name like that, which summons impressions of tired 90's angster Trent Reznor. Luckily the actual music of PS is BADASS 'European' style grind, you know the sort of grind that hasn't forgotten how to destroy passers by whilst it blames it all on god (5 points per reference there kids) and is unafraid to have snare RIGHT UP in your ear-face.

I love to hear grind that is unashamedly sung in it's native tongue. Being English can make one pretty lazy with this kind of matter to begin with and I think there is a real expectation that bands should record in English to have international appeal. PHOOEY TO THAT I like unintelligible screeching, it rules hard. Which is good because that is what you get here, mostly high-register violence... occasional gutterals for teh brootalz crowd, occasional gang vocals to prove how HxCx for life shit is. Me like.

These guys recently toured the UK with the also-excellent Lycanthrophy (aside: I made a poster for the Birmingham gig of this tour, and had an extensive argument with the promoter about the spelling of 'Lycanthropy') but I was unable to make it. Don't judge me, I live 2 hours drive from Brum. Honestly. Hey, screw you.

Anyway if any heads did see these gigs please use the comments to tell me they sucked, and that my opinions are shite and this isn't even a review. I'll send you flowers.

ABOVE: KICK IT! dun-nuh-nuh-nuuuuh, dun-nuh-nuh-nuuuuh,

This band have a wicked manic edge to their sound: the instruments are quite sludgy and the snare and vocals pierce right through it all- imagine Eyehategod on amphetamines instead of opiates and you'll be in the right kind of territory: angry and misanthropic noise with a undercurrent of grinning prankster. 10 gold stars your homework is to listen to this band.

MYSPACE

FACEBOOK

WEBSITE

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Are You Excitements? (CSSO- Are you excrements? 2001)

It was probably around 2002 when I first heard CSSO and I still recall the initial reaction: WHAT? WHY? WHAT IS THAT WEIRD GUITAR SOUND? THE FUCK? and WHAT DOES CSSO EVEN MEAN?

At this point I had seen bands like Napalm Death but having just lived through the atrocities of the Nu-Metal wars (1998-2001) I was pretty much off my heavy sounds. Right off them in fact and totally digging the Japanese Harsh Noise kings (Masonna, Merzbow etc) and slap bang in the middle of a serious prog habit (sue me).

So basically getting back into a bunch of juvenile screaming and chugging seemed unlikely.

But not impossible; this band offered a way to combine the exuberant psychosis of the first-wave grind I had known with the experimental and playful approach inherent to much noise music.

Written down I will admit that it sounds like a terrible proposition, (tantamount to that most profane of punk crimes: not taking nastiness seriously) but this music is as lousy as it is brilliant, a garish microwave dinner thrown at the wall of understanding.

CSSO produce the kind of incongruous marriage of ideas you only get from somewhere else. Somewhere not where you are from. Somewhere good.

The tracks on are you excrements? sound as if a resurrected zombie Elvis has been forced to record a comeback extra special 5000 years hence, when only fuzzy grind is popular for some frankly tenuous reason.

Frequently the music farts itself out into a squelchy synthy coma that pratts about for ages, only to suddenly explode into feedback-drenched riffing ala guitar wolf and monstrous gurgly splatter vocals.

Many of you will not like this stuff, there is much more stupid dickerey and much less blasting than some of the band's earlier work however it's just full of amusing/ genius/ dumb ideas; perhaps a retarded cousin of fantomas or melt banana that is by some cruel twist better looking than either and thus the object of my affections.

ABOVE: Some dudes, taken from the CSSO myspace page so it's BOUND TO BE THEM.

One of the best elements of CSSO's sound on this album are the crazily wah-wahed guitars. They take a rather nasty and cheap guitar sound, distort that in a bad and fizzy manner and then as if THAT isn't enough they proceed to wah them all over the place. Often the left and right channel are being wahed out of synch and it's a wonderfully disorienting experience, scuzzy knives of axe skronk slashing you up and down and in and out.

I'll hazard that the name 'are you excrements' is a reference to Hendrix's 'Are you experienced' as many elements of the production (not just the guitars) are sort of psychedelic and trippy, especially the long bonged-out jams that are left when the blasting subsides. It leads one to wonder just what a certain J. Hendrix would have made of this appropriation but DONT WORRY KIDS I've engaged the services of a well-known clairvoyant (who's name must remain a secret) just so we can find out OK LET'S TRY THIS:

HENDRIX'S GHOST: awww hey man, what's up?

LUKE ORAM: hey J (I call him J), just wondered what you made of the weird you-isms used by the band CSSO on their album 'are you excrements?', especially the track 'Mental Rape'?

HENDRIX'S GHOST: it's an honour dude, up here in heaven ALL MUSIC has blastbeats. Anyway I gots to fly, band practise with Mieszko Talarczyk

UNNAMED CLAIRVOYANT: EEEUUURGH the ghost of Hendrix has left me, that'll be 300 Euros.

ABOVE: dead dudes dig the grind.

Well there we have it, CSSO and the soul of Dad's favourite proved beyond doubt that the basic blocks of grindcore CAN be used to make some things far beyond the scope of their creators. And that occasionally they SHOULD be used as such.

If you have any problems with that, or with any of this sarcastic nonsense please leave a comment TA TA.

MYSPACE

Other greb I went on about:

Merzbow

Masonna

Guitar Wolf

**I don't think I need to link to Elvis, Hendrix or ND**

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Gathering of Cultures (The Atrocity Exhibit, Damned and Blasted 2010)

OK so right off the bat I'm going to admit that I know the guys in this band, and be assured that does indeed compromise whatever objectivity I may have had. To compensate for this egregious transgression I am only going to say that this band are awesome once: "This band are awesome once" (yeah you like what I did)

What I'm going to blather on about for the rest of this post are the myriad reasons WHY I would think such a thing, and those would also be reasons for anyone who is reading this to check them out.

Reasons to be Grindful are Three:

One: Their tunes are proper. You know, proper like when you listen to Insect Warfare and think "This is really great, and their songs are proper". Like that.

TAE have deemed that well-balanced song writing and nicely flowing tracks are, for them, more important than continually shredding you up with top-of-range tempi.

This is a good thing. Their recent CD (which I still haven't paid them for, fuck you the band) develops over the course of the album, offering up memorable tracks that have bits of Grind, Crust, Doom (and other tasty stuff) all over the place but are also consistent, it feels like the same band.

Two: Their drummer is proper: This happy chap can blast, but knows when it's time to just smash the crash and let the other instruments thunder. Do you see the theme developing here? A theme that not only has words like 'grind' 'blast' 'owns' but also 'taste' 'thought' and 'appropriate'. It works, supplies the modern-slick-double-kick whilst reminding us how good it was when some shitty punk bands decide they were just going to hit that junk as fast as they could loose teeth and cash giros.

ABOVE: They look like this, mind.

Three: The guitars SOUND proper (sick of this proper thing yet?). All the string takes on Damned and Blasted have real weight to them, like at a gig where valve amps are really shoving the air about. It's a great thing precisely because it ISN'T the usual hyper-gain Death Metal sound, it's dirty with heft and chunk. It means that when the band slow down a bit (which they do especially well on album closer track "The gathering of vultures") one gets to appreciate these choice riffs in all their meatsome countenance. Same goes for the Bass guitar; solid sounding. In these days of many bass-less grinders it's nice to hear a four-guy grind group in full grunt.

So there are my three reasons for my opinion that this band are awesome (once) and I encourage you all to INTERNETS THE HELL outta this.

Myspace

Facebook

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