Portuguese metallers The Voynich Code made an impact as a young force of potential back in 2015 with their self-released EP Ignotum, which despite clear signs of worship of the likes Born Of Osirus, also showed some clear chops and a muscular take on Tech Metal. In such a short time they have turned into a recognisable name in the scene and the release of a full-length debut is therefore surrounded with considerable expectation.Continue reading
I like being in early to an empty festival arena; the main stage with its welcoming wide arms enticing you down into big open area that later on will be filled by up to 80,000 pairs of feet. But at 10.30am, while taking it all in, there were pressing ablutions-related priorities while the facilities were still clean…
Having completed the exiting part of the cycle, it was time to begin filling up again. Running a ring round the perimeter of the whole arena is van after van of greasy and fast food vendors, and this is next port of call – though the stomach was not up for any of the kebab or burger related fare, fortunately there are a couple of recommended less greasy options – the ‘Vegan and Vegetarian’ stand doing a fine falafel and hummus and coffee (and I’m not even a veggie) to kickstart my heart (or at least brain). If you can be bothered to search off the beaten track as we did later in the day there are some decent food stalls in the “Kennels” by the acoustic stage, and right over by the far side of the second stage, where I picked up a very tasty and unsaturated teriyaki chicken noodle feast.
With all of the “main” three stages running simultaneously throughout the day, there are choices to be made… Heart of a Coward was, by all accounts, the right choice to “wake the fuck up” with. At 11 o clock, in front of only a hardy few in the rain (the opening of gates had been delayed to allow the site to be tidied and made safer by the laying down of straw following the previous nights’ downpour) you feared for the Milton Keynes boys, but by the time the set ended people were sprinting down the hill to catch them, hangovers forgotten as circle pits, choreographed headbanging and angsty shouts over slab-heavy grooves well and truly kicked things off.
With Funeral For A Friend completing their slide from the grace of being main support only a few years ago to the same slot they appeared in at the first Download with a performance as gray as the skies, it was time to wander away from the mainstage for another coffee and something different.
I had meant to see Malefice, but I benefitted from that most festival of experiences of accidentally seeing a new band. Stage three at Download is a good one for that; not only does it shelter from the rain by driving in hundreds of people out of the elements, it provides up and coming bands with a captive audience, and Stray From The Path won over some cold, wet new fans.
Saturday arvo was all about the second stage. Apocalyptica offered something different, and won over the inquisitive; Ace Frehely was, by all accounts, a surprising success that occurred while I got drawn into the unmitigated fun of Hollywood Undead instead, who had the main stage eating out of the palm of their hands. Brilliantly entertaining, which is, surely, what mainstage festival bands should be all about.
Back over second stage, Testament crushed with a consummate set of testicles and big fucking riffs, before Carcass continued the smackdown laying. Motionless In White drew the youngest crowd of the day (by the time we left to not be able to get in to see Dub War in the oversubscribed tent of the fourth stage, TeenFest 2015 was in full swing) as Chris and the boys delivered. While wandering to and from others, I caught the first and then later, the last songs of A Day To Remember (‘Downfall of Us All’ and ‘All I Want’), their best two, and all you really need to see, before taking up a good vantage point for Faith No More and Muse. I’d have liked to have seen Body Count, Marilyn Manson, Andrew W.K., and Black Veil Brides – all of whom played during Saturday’s Main Stage one-two knock-out blow, but from the first peals of the massively catch ‘Motherfucker’, to the dying Western-meets-Maiden/Queen of ‘Knights of Cydonia’ the main stage was where it was at.
Faith No More, by Hillarie Jason PhotographyDuring FNM we had lounge jams, 50,000 people singing to Lionel Ritchie song (‘Easy’, natch) casual abuse of one pissed-off looking bedraggled girl in the front row, a set list that held enough back for their upcoming headline show while still showing how far above most other bands they are, arrogance and a performance of excellence; Mike Patton note perfect and enticingly sardonic. It even stopped raining.
People in the UK get particular about their festival headliners, and Muse weren’t selected from the normal pot. However, they were absolutely the right choice. Matt Bellamy is a sickeningly talented individual, nailing Eddie Van Halen guitar techniques while simultaneously hitting falsetto notes that could crack glass, all to the back drop of videos, a stunning light show, pyro, fireworks, streamers, big bouncing black Prisoner balls and a cleverly tailored, dark, heavy set that saw them fire out rarities like ‘Dead Star’ and ‘Agitated’ and epics such as ‘Hysteria’, ‘Micro Cuts’ and ‘Citizen Erazed’, which had even the most sceptical won over even before a last forty-five minute hit-factory, with fervent reaction all the way back as far as the eye could see. Muse more than matched up to Slipknot, the first two days at Download further proving that there are bands, and there are “bands”. And then there are bands. And then there are BANDS.
With things a lot dryer , even the walk back to the tent was alright, though I’m far too old to be lying in a field kept up until 4am by a bunch of young pissheads blasting out Slipknot. Hotel next year for me, methinks!
MUSE SETLIST
Psycho
The Handler
New Born
Interlude
Hysteria
Micro Cuts
Dead Star
Agitated
Citizen Erased
Dead Inside
Supermassive Black Hole
Mercy
Time Is Running Out
Reapers
Stockholm Syndrome
Encore:
Uprising
Plug In Baby
Knights of Cydonia
STEVE TOVEY
Nick Fiction (aka Nick Brewer), the only remaining member from the last Roses Never Fade album, is joined by Nathan “Nate” Opposition of Ancient VVisdom fame (because now AVV have, like, distortion and stuff he clearly needs another acoustic outlet), and The Way To Light’s Austin Rathmell with the intention of producing brooding acoustic neofolk.
There is no percussion here, no other instrumentation, just a pure, minimalist strumming and vocal methodology, that endeavours to evoke a monastic, empty church feel.
Starting out with some annoying swooshing noises (and little else) that fill the whole of the five minutes (!) of opening track ‘To Valleys And Shadows’, the second Roses Never Fade album, Devil Dust (Neuropa) is clearly trying to set an ambience of reflection and prepare the listener for a melancholy moment of introspection, a mood that isn’t achieved either on the introduction, or once the album proper commences.
A pattern soon emerges as tracks directly alternate between a simple, uncomplicated acoustic picking interspersed and shrouded with embellishing motifs and backed with oh so earnest whispers, and harmony vocal songs over strumming. Unfortunately neither approach is fully effective, especially once the pattern is noted, as neither the music nor the vocal is dark or interesting enough to draw the required atmosphere. There is no being enveloped into a state of other, or past, worldliness, such as the induced meditative mental journey that Ulver’s Kveldssanger (Head Not Found) inspires.
Whether seeking to yield a particular emotive or reflective response, or simply playing unassuming songs, Devil Dust doesn’t really achieve anything. At its best, neofolk, or rather acoustic neofolk (for neofolk is more a shared ideology than any real musical consistency, of which the Cold Meat Industry and industrial/dark wave inspired works of artists like Blood Axis, Ordo Rosario Equilibrio and Amber Asylum are the more interesting and suggestive) at the very least induces emotions, sympathies and reactions. Devil Dust just happens, really, and while it’s a quite nice when it’s on, that’s it. It doesn’t emote, or inspire much beyond apathy or boredom.
4.5/10
STEVE TOVEY
When a band has as prominent an underground reputation as Cold World it is hard to miss the hype that’s been surrounding the release of their latest album, How The Gods Chill (Deathwish). As a new listener to the band, their reputation certainly preceded and it was hard not to start the album with high hopes. Firmly rooted in their usual hardcore style, this record also mixes influences from the rap scene, collaborating with artists like Kool G and Meyhem Lauren.
Despite not usually a fan of rap, this rapidly pans out as the most exciting part of the album with ‘Hell’s Direction’ beginning being one of the few genuinely enjoyable moments. The main vocals in comparison lack any real depth and, despite switching between shouted and sung sections, fail to add any life or interest to the music. It’s obvious these musicians are proficient, however, like the vocals, the music’s lack of any real variation quickly leads to the album becoming repetitive and boring.
The riffs may have a slightly punk feel but the music wanders too often into the realms of catchy, which is at odds when the band is so busy also trying to be angry. Cold World may be trying to capture the struggle of real life struggles however whatever rawness they manage to capture is quickly counteracted by the polished production sound.
While the band may have a steady stream of followers and continue to build a strong reputation on the underground, there is very little about this album that really inspires. While the hardcore scene continues to produce a wealth of talented artists and exceptional albums, anyone would be forgiven for giving this one a miss.
3.0/10
CAITLIN SMITH
The early-90’s saw a sea change in the world of rock and metal, and a slew of great albums adorned the mainstream. These weren’t frilly-shirted or leather-trousered types, these were check-shirted and ripped jeans types, bringing some incredible music. Alice In Chains, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden shaped the soundscape. Yes, it meant “metal” had to go and lick its wounds, but it never went away. Indeed, Pantera, White Zombie and Metallica will tell you, it certainly didn’t stop good metal bands being successful or releasing great albums (OK, Metallica’s last great album was pre-grunge, but you get my point, and besides Garage Inc was bloody good).
But while metal burrowed underground and into mainland Europe, “Rock” was mortally wounded. Manowar’s black arrow of death sent straight to the heart of all those who played false metal was actually fired by bands that didn’t play metal at all (though Dirt, for one, is one heavy motherfucker). But, do you know what? That wasn’t a bad thing at all, as it meant the end of hundreds of unimaginative, middle of the road plod rock bands.
As well played as it is, Gus G.’s I Am The Fire (Century Media) is the exact sort of album that it was great that grunge killed. A guitar “virtuoso” proving that he can shred, widdle, and solo with the best of them, but without the distinctiveness or feel of the great (I’d take a Slash or Adrian Smith or Ritchie Blackmore solo over one of Gus’s any day, maybe technically not as proficient but guys who make their leads sing) but has no imagination beyond stock chords for “riffs” and obvious, underwhelming vocal lines when songwriting. It’s like Gus is saying “this album isn’t about how great I am on guitar, it’s about songs”. Yes Gus. Boring ones’
Joined by a cast of proficient if unexciting B-list vocalists, the two best tracks on here are the two instrumentals; ‘Vengeance’ featuring Dave Ellefson, a spiky track that could have been the music under a track off Rust In Peace and ‘Terrified’ featuring Billy Sheehan, a riffier, thrashier number.
4 / 10
STEVE TOVEY