Showing posts with label Sepultura. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sepultura. Show all posts

CD Review: Cavalera Conspiracy – Pandemonium

CD Review: Cavalera Conspiracy – Pandemonium
Napalm Records
All Access Rating: A-

Cavalera Conspiracy - Pandemonium 2014
A raging, all-consuming swarm of roaring metallic noise has descended upon the world, and its name is Pandemonium, a fitting title for the latest dose of anger-inducing, teeth-gnashing vitriol from the brothers Cavalera, Max and Igor.

Abandoning melody just as the disillusioned and hopeless might turn away from God, Cavalera Conspiracy delivers their most visceral record to date, combining the heavy brutality of Brazilian death/thrash metal kingpins Sepultura – founded in part by Max and Igor – with the hammering industrial violence of latter-day Ministry.

Every track is a delirious aural madhouse, beginning with the bludgeoning, buzzing hive of activity "Babylonian Pandemonium" and rushing headlong into the pounding "I, Barbarian," with its odd, fun-house guitar effects. Air raid sirens, barking dogs and snippets of speeches contribute to the disorienting sonic melee, flooded with Max's gutteral bellow and blunt lyrical imagery, drums relentlessly pummeling away, down-tuned breakdowns and searing, psycho guitars going off in unusual directions, as if following some insane muse.

Any red meat tossed in the vicinity of the ravenous "Bonzai Kamikazee" would immediately be devoured whole, its pawing, clawed riffs lunging at enemies real or imagined. Charging just as hard, the thundering "Cramunhao" simply overwhelms the senses, growing increasingly powerful and dense. And even when Cavalera Conspiracy is in danger of going completely off the rails – the unhinged insanity of "Scum" and "Apex Predator" being two instances – they are forever grounded in mauling, disciplined grooves that leave discernible trails so nobody gets lost, although it is next to impossible to keep up with the runaway speed of "Insurrection" and the swift, strong currents of energy that carry "Not Losing The Edge." Not to mention the fact that they stuff the record with a bevy of interesting auditory elements, rewarding repeated listens with new textures and discoveries.

One of the most intense and ferocious records to date from the Cavalera brothers, Pandemonium makes Soulfly seem an unnecessary distraction for Max. This is one Conspiracy theory that demands more investigation.
– Peter Lindblad

CD Review: Sepultura – Sepultura and Les Tambours du Bronx: Metal Veins – Alive at Rock in Rio

CD Review: Sepultura – Sepultura and Les Tambours du Bronx: Metal Veins – Alive at Rock in Rio
Eagle Rock Entertainment
All Access Rating: A-

Sepultura - Sepultura and Les
Tambours du Bronx: Metal
Veins - Alive at Rock in Rio 2014
Whether assimilating the organic tribal rhythms of their native land into their swirling sonic maelstrom or harnessing the harsh abrasions of industrial beats for nefarious musical purposes, Sepultura has always been game for some adventurous percussive experimentation, even in the band's post-Max and Igor Cavalera era.

When the Brazilian thrash/death metal beasts stormed Rock in Rio in 2013, innovation and crushing brutality collided head on, as Sepultura teamed with disciplined French industrial percussion mob Les Tambours du Bronx for an intense, groundbreaking performance that grabbed a frenzied audience by the throat and never released its grip.

Available on CD, DVD or Blu-ray – the DVD containing an essential behind-the-scenes look at how this awe-inspiring collaboration was conceived – from Eagle Rock EntertainmentMetal Veins – Alive at Rock in Rio introduces the metal world to Les Tambours du Bronx, an ensemble known for intricate stick work and pounding the hell out of 225-liter barrels with axe handles or beech wood bats in perfect synchronization. Percussion isn't all they do, however, as Les Tambours du Bronx sprinkle in edgy samples and synthesized sounds to create an atmosphere of nihilistic, Ministry-like barbarism in "Fever" and a manic, thundering cover of Prodigy's "Firestarter."

Building an enormous, monolithic background of powerful drumming, the group, in lockstep throughout, provides energy and muscle in support of Sepultura's unbridled and relentless rage, which reaches a fever pitch on ferocious classics "Refuse/Resist" and "Territory," with Andreas Kisser's growling, surging riffs setting up fiery solos, such as the one that tears through "Big Hands," and drummer Eloy Casagrande matching Les Tambours du Bronx beat for marauding beat.

None of it compares to the riotous send-off that is the closer "Roots Bloody Roots," the chanting crowd having worked itself into a lather as the orgies of roaring vocals, rampaging rhythms and withering, corrosive guitar fury that erupt in sanitariums of sound like "Delirium," the charging "Spectrum" – from the visionary Kairos full-length – and a darkly sinister "We've Lost You" rise to blazing crescendoes.

There is almost unbearable tension between the two entities in this unforgettable and utterly unique live experience, as the push-pull dynamics Les Tambours du Bronx and Sepultura engage in are breathtaking to behold. At times, the drumming does threaten to overwhelm Sepultura, as impossible as that seems. Nevertheless, Metal Veins – Alive at Rock in Rio clearly separates itself from the pack, making other, more mundane concert releases seem tame by comparison.
– Peter Lindblad

Metal Evolution - "Nu Metal"

Metal Evolution: Nu Metal - Episode 108
Sam Dunn
VH1 Classic


All Access Review: B+


Woodstock ’99 was burning and blame for the mayhem was placed squarely on Fred Durst and the rap-metal hooligans of Limp Bizkit. Destruction of property, flat-out arson, even the reports of rape that allegedly occurred in the mosh pit – at least in part, Limp Bizkit was responsible for all of it. Witnesses for the prosecution, some of whom give their testimony in “Nu Metal,” the most recent episode in Sam Dunn’s “Metal Evolution” series, which appears on VH-1 Classic, say Durst, in particular, fanned the flames of the riots that forced organizers to prematurely bring Woodstock ’99 to an ugly end. Even Korn’s Jonathan Davis, a one-time Bizkit ally, turns on Durst, telling Dunn that instead of attempting to calm a crowd that was growing increasingly mad, Durst egged them on. He exhorted the crowd to “break stuff,” and the mindless thugs followed his lead.
Durst, unapologetically, remembers things differently. Expressing little, if any remorse, Durst recalls the Bizkit Woodstock ’99 show as the “greatest concert ever.” And then, showing a little of that adolescent petulance that Durst is infamous for, he sulks about how nobody ever wanted Limp Bizkit playing in the same sand box as the nu metal children. The rap guys didn’t want to be lumped in with metal and the metal guys didn’t want anything to do with hip-hop, continues Durst. That’s too simple of an explanation of why Limp Bizkit has been ostracized from the music community since the violence at Woodstock’99. Battles with other bands, the departure of guitarist Wes Borland and lukewarm albums in the aftermath of Three Dollar Bill Y’All and Significant Other all combined to doom Bizkit, and to his credit, Durst admits to Dunn that this monster that he created called Fred Durst could have handled things better. Clearly, some anger management counseling would have done him a world of good. Or, maybe he just needed to grow up a little.
The story of Limp Bizkit dominates much of the second half of Dunn’s look at “Nu Metal,” and with good reason. Bizkit blew up in the late ‘90s on the strength of Significant Other’s massive single “Nookie.” As crazy as it sounds, considering his explosive temper, Durst even became a label executive at Interscope Records – that fact escaping Dunn, along with the failure to mention that Bizkit’s Woodstock ’99 performance came a day before the disastrous riots. Still, there’s something unsatisfying about placing so much emphasis on Limp Bizkit, especially considering there are far more influential nu metal bands Dunn could have spent more time on. Ah, but perhaps that’s just a personal preference, even though you get the feeling from “Nu Metal” that Dunn – who plainly admits to not being a big fan of nu metal, while also reluctantly admitting that it does, indeed, have its place in the history and developmental of heavy metal – also wish he could give more attention to the Sepulturas, the Korns, and the Rage Against The Machines of the world.
All of them get their moment in the sun in “Nu Metal,” and this is where Dunn gets it right. Where the Limp Bizkit segments seem to focus too much on the controversy surrounding the band, when the subject turns to Pantera, Rage, Korn and Sepultura, Dunn digs his fingers into the groundbreaking nature of nu metal. With Pantera, Dunn’s interest lies with the band’s adherence to deep grooves and an unyielding devotion to what Phil Anselmo refers to as the “money riff.” As for Rage, it’s the combination of music and message that gets top billing, with guitarist Tom Morello also talking about the band’s meshing of ‘70s hard rock riffs, thick grooves and his own role as a sort of DJ bringing his six-string “eccentricities.” And Korn’s Fieldy and Davis discuss at length about the band’s Sacramento origins and its innovative use of detuned strings.
But, it all goes back to Anthrax and the band’s monumental summit rap-metal summit with Public Enemy on their collaborative 1991 reworking of “Bring the Noise,” and Dunn starts his exploration of “Nu Metal” there before moving on – at Scott Ian’s request – to Faith No More. Even if nu metal has its detractors and those who aren’t so sure that the integration of metal and rap was done as artfully as it could have been, there were, and still are, bands that do it well. Dunn’s interviews nicely hone in on what was crucial to the rise of nu metal, and his dexterous use of concert images and video footage, as always, is on display here, as is Dunn’s singular ability to make you feel as if you are accompanying him on this journey and that his interest in the subject matter is genuine and sincere. Time, again, is his enemy. There’s only so much a filmmaker can pack into an hour’s program, and Dunn’s fills to the brim with insightful commentary and well-paced storytelling. Woodstock ’99 may have been nu metal’s Altamont, but as Dunn shows, it didn’t end there. And neither does the story of heavy metal.
-        Peter Lindblad

Metal Evolution Nu Metal
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