The Medea Project: Sisyphus (Self Released) [Alex Swift]
Harsh, drawn-out tones bearing ritualistic and medieval influences fortify Sisyphus – this can only be Goth Doom. That’s not to say they sound comparable to every act in this vein I’ve ever heard. The trudging bass and guitar combos, laden with distortion and revered and reinforced by a dose of sinister imagery, certainly make their influences clear. Still, there are illusions to psychedelic in the hazy and distant production, or even melodic death metal in the discernibly erratic drumming and the murky, harrowing vocals. In fact, as I delved deeper and deeper I noticed an increasingly experimental side to The Medea Project, and they are all the more unique for incorporating cerebral, often strange textures into their style.
Babylon has a slow, stomping progression towards when the verse finally starts, yet feels powerfully effective in setting a dark, oftentimes dusky tone for the album – furthermore, with the small alterations in drum patterns or the chaotic melodies being commanded by the guitars, the experience becomes enthralling. At first, I didn’t care for Brett Minnie’s vocals, yet they grew on me when I noticed that A. Their contrasting nature, between quiet and loud brilliantly works with the elusive tone of the music and B. he has a range which despite not being incredibly impressive, allows him to growl or sing melodiously, dependant on what the anthem requires. To Know Us Is To Fear Us sees him thrillingly growling, as a venomous riff plays out, and the percussive elements embrace volatility. In the final seconds, we tip over into pure thrashing territory with a riff that sounds lifted straight out of the playbook for any number of defining metal acts.
Changing the formula, The Ghosts Of St. Augustine's feels audacious in the way it begins on a mournful synth, before diving into a megalithic instrumental which paves the way for the beautiful opening melody and later for the arresting majority, which never ceases to enthrall this reviewer with the bombastic playing and sinuous rhythmic changes. All this creates an effect which places The Medea Project above such arbitrary labels as sludge and Goth, while allowing them to stand on the shoulders of giants if you will, by aptly paying tribute to Sabbath or Sleep, without tarnishing their legacy. Gloam furthers the risk by turning down the distortion to make for a piece that takes the listener on a voyage through their own psyche, by being scarily pulsating and lashing, while never tipping over into expected or ‘we’ve already heard that’ territory.
Reaver gets back into crushing territory, with a lead part which is as prevailing as menacing. Though, as we may come to expect, halfway in the track lurches into experimental territory with the tempo rearing into overdrive and our vocalist taking on a weird and perilous snarl, before the track comes thundering to a commanding crescendo. I’ve got no idea what the title stands for, or indeed who Geoff is but, G.E.O.F.F is made perfect by its tongue in cheek, retro-style persona and it’s clever illusions to Desert rock, giving off a distinctly QOTSA vibe, while still being very much its own, distinct creation. Fear switches between moments of charming euphoniousness and aggressive catharsis on a dime, once more contributing to that authoritative sense of uncertainty which the record uses to its advantage incredibly well. We close out on the Desert Song which stresses these musicians' love of soundscapes and psychedelia by creating a wall of sound over a long period using different textures and sounds, which collide and clash on chaotic beauty.
I won’t try and decode the connection between the word ‘project’ and the Greek tragedy where a former princess of the barbarian kingdom and wife of Jason, Medea, murders her two kids after he leaves her for another princess. With the album name Sisyphus – a god who continues his punishment of forever pushing a boulder up a hill as we speak - maybe there’s a message there about determination and tyranny, but it’s probably just a cool name. What I will say is that I hope this particular project is a long one with lots of twists and turns along the way – in that sense, it would be much like an ancient Greek tragedy – maybe that’s the connection. 8/10
Overlaps: In Your Room (Time To Kill Records)
The prevailing feel of Overlaps is a distinctly sassy, attitude-ridden alternative rock. Everything stands between the frustrated post-grunge elements of Breaking Benjamin, crossed with the angsty, and to be honest somewhat outdated elements of an act in the vein of elastic or garbage. It’s clear where Overlaps is drawing their influences from, and if you’re into that scene you will probably get some value out of In Your Room.
On opener Your Eyes, the instrumentals, and rhythms are executed with razor-sharp precision, while the melodies and hooks are made to hit with forcefulness – they’re aided by the mixing, which treads a line between grimy and crystal clear. Can I say that the piece left a particular impression on me? Not really – I would have liked to have seen the groves stand out a little more and for more of that angry, unleashed side which shines through in places, to reveal itself. To their credit, these musicians definitely know their audience. Tracks in the vein of the smirking Mr. Right and the relentless I Don’t Need, stamp their marks with distinctive tempos and chorus lines that feel refined. Each aspect is very well performed. These anthems are almost perfectly treading the line between solid, unfiltered rock while still appealing to an accessible sensibility – speaking as somebody who loves that in their music, I can definitely respect that path.
Fós: Rinne mé iarraidh (Self Released)
The beautiful vocals of Orla Cadden Patel, like opera with a Celtic tinge, set the tone on Rinne mé iarraidh. In the background, layers of distortion offset by the maddened guitar textures of multi-instrumentalist Fionn Murray, whirr and hum creating cerebral chaos. The makings of a rhythm, lending a vague sense of cohesion to the intangible opener that is An raibh tú ar a Gcarraig, are defined entirely by the hammering drum beats that heave and pulsate from start to finish!
When An buachaillín bhán begins, I feel like a stranger who has witnessed a ritual not designed to be seen by the eyes of the uninitiated! I’m not familiar with drone metal, yet like a work of art that I may not be able to fully comprehend I can’t help but appreciate the artistry. If indeed music that intends to create an atmosphere can be understood on a scale of great to weak, then I would argue that the experimentation with different textures, the contrasts of the melodic with the chaotic, and the affluence with which the changes progress. My understanding of music may initially cry out against the way a track in the vein of Gabhaim molta Bride, rejoices in structureless serenity, yet over time I will become hypnotized by the multifaceted imagination of such a piece. The EP bows out on A chomaraigh aoibhinn ó– the instinctual electronic textures, and bone-chilling clashes between the peacefulness of the vocals and the primitiveness of the instrumentals, leaving us on a somber if mesmerized state.
I cannot see myself returning to Fós often. However, should I ever wish to hide from the rules of this world and immerse myself in the disarray of elements that lay outside of many people's understanding, their work, and that of others like them, may provide that tranquil escape. 7/10
Death On Fire: Ghost Songs (Self Released) [Alex Swift]
Displaying a comprehension of scale and ferocity that is needed in selling a melodic death metal album, Death On Fire Pack many of the elements of a great band. Guitars gnash and battle oftentimes eviscerating to the sound of our frontman’s snarls, other times climbing with a sense of magnitude and glory. Where Ghost Songs falls short is in some of the compositional and production elements. In the brutal, fast moments such as opener Lies We Eat, you may have intersecting grooves happening in the backgrounds, yet without bringing them to the fore, there’s little for the listener to sink their teeth into, leaving a feeling a cold dissatisfaction to prevail. Furthermore, pieces in the vein of the End Complete will attempt to come across as epic and theatrical, while leaving a weird muted effect to rein over the instrumentals and percussion, and - an aspect which really infuriated me – pushing the screams so far into the foreground that it drowns out any detail or nuance that may be present.
Ultimately, the aspects dragging this record down are a massive shame. These anthems, in and of themselves, are far from bad and demonstrate all the elements that are required for a truly enthralling experience. Take Withering Away as an example. From what I can make out the song is backed by an arpeggiated guitar riff that rises and falls in heroic fashion, and a drum rhythm which despite not being awfully spectacular intends to nail down an intense and ceaseless feel for the track! Why then, am I so tediously disinterested? Perhaps it’s due to the fact that a demo-esque quality pervades throughout. We all know the purpose of demo recordings, its cutting edge floor material that a band writes when trying to get the basic idea for a song, which they will later flesh out and develop in the studio. Nothing, across all 10 of these songs feels fleshed out, which again, is such a pity – I feel had more time and thought gone into crafting and refining every little detail, you could be reading a very different review.
Do I have any inclination to return to Death On Fire? I don’t know, I suppose I would be interested to hear if they work on their failings, but I can’t say anything here left me an aching desire for more. I fully understand that melo-death often has a delicate line to tread between well-oiled accessibility and unbridled aggression, but without the shade to make that debate worth happening, all that’s left is a disorganised scrap heap. Finding anything value requires digging. 4/10
Harsh, drawn-out tones bearing ritualistic and medieval influences fortify Sisyphus – this can only be Goth Doom. That’s not to say they sound comparable to every act in this vein I’ve ever heard. The trudging bass and guitar combos, laden with distortion and revered and reinforced by a dose of sinister imagery, certainly make their influences clear. Still, there are illusions to psychedelic in the hazy and distant production, or even melodic death metal in the discernibly erratic drumming and the murky, harrowing vocals. In fact, as I delved deeper and deeper I noticed an increasingly experimental side to The Medea Project, and they are all the more unique for incorporating cerebral, often strange textures into their style.
Babylon has a slow, stomping progression towards when the verse finally starts, yet feels powerfully effective in setting a dark, oftentimes dusky tone for the album – furthermore, with the small alterations in drum patterns or the chaotic melodies being commanded by the guitars, the experience becomes enthralling. At first, I didn’t care for Brett Minnie’s vocals, yet they grew on me when I noticed that A. Their contrasting nature, between quiet and loud brilliantly works with the elusive tone of the music and B. he has a range which despite not being incredibly impressive, allows him to growl or sing melodiously, dependant on what the anthem requires. To Know Us Is To Fear Us sees him thrillingly growling, as a venomous riff plays out, and the percussive elements embrace volatility. In the final seconds, we tip over into pure thrashing territory with a riff that sounds lifted straight out of the playbook for any number of defining metal acts.
Changing the formula, The Ghosts Of St. Augustine's feels audacious in the way it begins on a mournful synth, before diving into a megalithic instrumental which paves the way for the beautiful opening melody and later for the arresting majority, which never ceases to enthrall this reviewer with the bombastic playing and sinuous rhythmic changes. All this creates an effect which places The Medea Project above such arbitrary labels as sludge and Goth, while allowing them to stand on the shoulders of giants if you will, by aptly paying tribute to Sabbath or Sleep, without tarnishing their legacy. Gloam furthers the risk by turning down the distortion to make for a piece that takes the listener on a voyage through their own psyche, by being scarily pulsating and lashing, while never tipping over into expected or ‘we’ve already heard that’ territory.
Reaver gets back into crushing territory, with a lead part which is as prevailing as menacing. Though, as we may come to expect, halfway in the track lurches into experimental territory with the tempo rearing into overdrive and our vocalist taking on a weird and perilous snarl, before the track comes thundering to a commanding crescendo. I’ve got no idea what the title stands for, or indeed who Geoff is but, G.E.O.F.F is made perfect by its tongue in cheek, retro-style persona and it’s clever illusions to Desert rock, giving off a distinctly QOTSA vibe, while still being very much its own, distinct creation. Fear switches between moments of charming euphoniousness and aggressive catharsis on a dime, once more contributing to that authoritative sense of uncertainty which the record uses to its advantage incredibly well. We close out on the Desert Song which stresses these musicians' love of soundscapes and psychedelia by creating a wall of sound over a long period using different textures and sounds, which collide and clash on chaotic beauty.
I won’t try and decode the connection between the word ‘project’ and the Greek tragedy where a former princess of the barbarian kingdom and wife of Jason, Medea, murders her two kids after he leaves her for another princess. With the album name Sisyphus – a god who continues his punishment of forever pushing a boulder up a hill as we speak - maybe there’s a message there about determination and tyranny, but it’s probably just a cool name. What I will say is that I hope this particular project is a long one with lots of twists and turns along the way – in that sense, it would be much like an ancient Greek tragedy – maybe that’s the connection. 8/10
Overlaps: In Your Room (Time To Kill Records)
The prevailing feel of Overlaps is a distinctly sassy, attitude-ridden alternative rock. Everything stands between the frustrated post-grunge elements of Breaking Benjamin, crossed with the angsty, and to be honest somewhat outdated elements of an act in the vein of elastic or garbage. It’s clear where Overlaps is drawing their influences from, and if you’re into that scene you will probably get some value out of In Your Room.
On opener Your Eyes, the instrumentals, and rhythms are executed with razor-sharp precision, while the melodies and hooks are made to hit with forcefulness – they’re aided by the mixing, which treads a line between grimy and crystal clear. Can I say that the piece left a particular impression on me? Not really – I would have liked to have seen the groves stand out a little more and for more of that angry, unleashed side which shines through in places, to reveal itself. To their credit, these musicians definitely know their audience. Tracks in the vein of the smirking Mr. Right and the relentless I Don’t Need, stamp their marks with distinctive tempos and chorus lines that feel refined. Each aspect is very well performed. These anthems are almost perfectly treading the line between solid, unfiltered rock while still appealing to an accessible sensibility – speaking as somebody who loves that in their music, I can definitely respect that path.
So why am so discernibly ‘not fussed’ on this record? Well, it all comes down to the fact that treading exquisitely well thought our line is sort of all that Overlaps are achieving. They’re not doing anything creative with the idea, just appealing to those who love them. While there’s still nothing wrong with that, I don’t doubt that they could really impress if they felt the need to. Take a song like Wasted– a brilliantly paced rager that haunts with a lurking sense of dread before exploding into a rapturous chorus. A decent technique but think of all of the ways they could have played with this idea by throwing the listener curveball after curveball and using the tenseness as an opportunity to have the instrumental flourishes play with our expectations. Alternatively, look to the closer Queen Of Peace, which actually does experiment with unexpectedness in the way that I mentioned, yet stops short of trying to create an atmosphere of excitement, where each twist and turn remains a mystery.
I don’t want to make it seem that I’m criticizing Overlaps for not catering to my delicate taste for complexity, yet I can’t help feel something is crucially missing from the formula, and that they’re capable of far more. This is not bad by any stretch. There’s plenty of aspects here that I would normally absolutely adore. Still, they won’t win me over by appealing to a fanbase that I’m not already a part of 6/10
I don’t want to make it seem that I’m criticizing Overlaps for not catering to my delicate taste for complexity, yet I can’t help feel something is crucially missing from the formula, and that they’re capable of far more. This is not bad by any stretch. There’s plenty of aspects here that I would normally absolutely adore. Still, they won’t win me over by appealing to a fanbase that I’m not already a part of 6/10
Fós: Rinne mé iarraidh (Self Released)
The beautiful vocals of Orla Cadden Patel, like opera with a Celtic tinge, set the tone on Rinne mé iarraidh. In the background, layers of distortion offset by the maddened guitar textures of multi-instrumentalist Fionn Murray, whirr and hum creating cerebral chaos. The makings of a rhythm, lending a vague sense of cohesion to the intangible opener that is An raibh tú ar a Gcarraig, are defined entirely by the hammering drum beats that heave and pulsate from start to finish!
When An buachaillín bhán begins, I feel like a stranger who has witnessed a ritual not designed to be seen by the eyes of the uninitiated! I’m not familiar with drone metal, yet like a work of art that I may not be able to fully comprehend I can’t help but appreciate the artistry. If indeed music that intends to create an atmosphere can be understood on a scale of great to weak, then I would argue that the experimentation with different textures, the contrasts of the melodic with the chaotic, and the affluence with which the changes progress. My understanding of music may initially cry out against the way a track in the vein of Gabhaim molta Bride, rejoices in structureless serenity, yet over time I will become hypnotized by the multifaceted imagination of such a piece. The EP bows out on A chomaraigh aoibhinn ó– the instinctual electronic textures, and bone-chilling clashes between the peacefulness of the vocals and the primitiveness of the instrumentals, leaving us on a somber if mesmerized state.
I cannot see myself returning to Fós often. However, should I ever wish to hide from the rules of this world and immerse myself in the disarray of elements that lay outside of many people's understanding, their work, and that of others like them, may provide that tranquil escape. 7/10
Death On Fire: Ghost Songs (Self Released) [Alex Swift]
Displaying a comprehension of scale and ferocity that is needed in selling a melodic death metal album, Death On Fire Pack many of the elements of a great band. Guitars gnash and battle oftentimes eviscerating to the sound of our frontman’s snarls, other times climbing with a sense of magnitude and glory. Where Ghost Songs falls short is in some of the compositional and production elements. In the brutal, fast moments such as opener Lies We Eat, you may have intersecting grooves happening in the backgrounds, yet without bringing them to the fore, there’s little for the listener to sink their teeth into, leaving a feeling a cold dissatisfaction to prevail. Furthermore, pieces in the vein of the End Complete will attempt to come across as epic and theatrical, while leaving a weird muted effect to rein over the instrumentals and percussion, and - an aspect which really infuriated me – pushing the screams so far into the foreground that it drowns out any detail or nuance that may be present.
Ultimately, the aspects dragging this record down are a massive shame. These anthems, in and of themselves, are far from bad and demonstrate all the elements that are required for a truly enthralling experience. Take Withering Away as an example. From what I can make out the song is backed by an arpeggiated guitar riff that rises and falls in heroic fashion, and a drum rhythm which despite not being awfully spectacular intends to nail down an intense and ceaseless feel for the track! Why then, am I so tediously disinterested? Perhaps it’s due to the fact that a demo-esque quality pervades throughout. We all know the purpose of demo recordings, its cutting edge floor material that a band writes when trying to get the basic idea for a song, which they will later flesh out and develop in the studio. Nothing, across all 10 of these songs feels fleshed out, which again, is such a pity – I feel had more time and thought gone into crafting and refining every little detail, you could be reading a very different review.
Do I have any inclination to return to Death On Fire? I don’t know, I suppose I would be interested to hear if they work on their failings, but I can’t say anything here left me an aching desire for more. I fully understand that melo-death often has a delicate line to tread between well-oiled accessibility and unbridled aggression, but without the shade to make that debate worth happening, all that’s left is a disorganised scrap heap. Finding anything value requires digging. 4/10