Posts tagged ‘arch enemy’

May 21, 2013

A Taxonomy Of Extreme Metal Vocals

corpsegrinder

Since its inception in the 1970s, metal has been a proving ground for vocalists. First there were the operatic screams of genre pioneers like Ronnie James Dio (of Rainbow, Black Sabbath and a lengthy solo career), Judas Priest’s Rob Halford and Iron Maiden’s Bruce Dickinson, but in the late 1980s, as thrash gave way to the new, more aggressive form known as death metal, the preferred voice shifted from a high-pitched howl to a low roar, known alternately as “death growls” or “Cookie Monster vocals.” In the earliest days of death metal, the frontmen (and while there have been some excellent female extreme metal vocalists, including Arch Enemy‘s Angela Gossow, Cerebral Bore‘s Simone Pluijmers, Sinister‘s Rachel van Mastrigt-Heyzer, and Landmine Marathon‘s Grace Perry, this has been an overwhelmingly male style, even by metal standards) bellowed from deep in their chests and guts, attempting to sound as much like a raging demon as possible, the better to put across the mandatory lyrics about Satan and murder. For the most part, genre pioneers like Cannibal Corpse’s Chris Barnes, Deicide’s Glen Benton, Immolation’s Ross Dolan, Morbid Angel’s David Vincent and Suffocation’s Frank Mullen were guttural and menacing, but intelligible. But there was an exception: Obituary’s John Tardy.

Tardy’s vocals were qualitatively different from his peers’ in two major ways. On the one hand, his pitch and overall feel were much less controlled than anyone else’s at the time—he didn’t sound like a snarling demon so much as that unhinged, unclean guy you didn’t want sitting next to you on public transportation. But Tardy’s greatest innovation was demonstrated on Obituary’s 1989 debut album, Slowly We Rot. Rather than limit himself creatively by writing lyrics, the vocalist chose to simply improvise his way through several tracks, making vocal sounds not unlike those Boredoms frontman Eye Yamatsuka was exploring more or less concurrently on the other side of the planet. Tardy was an acknowledged influence on then-Faith No More singer (and later John Zorn collaborator) Mike Patton, who told me in a 2005 interview for The Wire, “I was probably 18 or 19 when that record came out. I thought the guy was a fucking genius, because there were no words. There were certain little phrases, like ‘wuuugh’ and ‘aaagh,’ and that really hit me at the time. I realized he was using the voice as an instrument within a song form. Especially with that form of music, that is genius, because no one knows. There’s nothing to say anyway. It’s a sound. Better that than hearing him talk about disemboweling some virgin.”

Over the years, and particularly in the new millennium, extreme metal vocals have become conventional. No longer a disturbing aberration, they are now a genre requirement, no different than blasting double bass drums or downtuned guitars. However, multiple styles have emerged within what might seem to outsiders like a limited approach. Traditional, old-school death metal vocals are still practiced by traditionalists like Cannibal Corpse’s current frontman, George “Corpsegrinder” Fisher, and dozens of others, including the veterans cited above, whose bands still tour and record. But other subgenres have their own favored vocal styles. Black metal, for example, requires a high-pitched, unearthly shriek, or a sort of croaking sound from the back of the throat—Cradle of Filth’s Dani Filth is a perfect example of the former method, while Immortal’s Abbath opts for the latter, sometimes sounding like a hell-spawned toad and others like Popeye the Sailor. Grindcore, which marries death metal and hardcore punk, demands an earnest, almost breathless barking type of vocal (with some, like GridLink/ex-Discordance Axis frontman Jon Chang, opting instead for full-on screaming) that’s mostly unintelligible because of the speed at which the lyrics are delivered; if the bands would slow down, the words might become clear.

Some of the most extreme vocalists of all seem to bypass the vocal cords entirely, using the throat primarily as a kind of resonating chamber. Attila Csihar, of Sunn O))) and many other projects, rumbles in a range previously attained only by Milan Fras of Laibach, while Will Rahmer of late ’90s/early ’00s New York death metal thugs Mortician had a voice so low—he made Barry White sound like Barry Manilow—that his death growls were as close as metal vocals have ever gotten to being totally inaudible; they blended with the riffs and the simplistic drum programming (Mortician had no drummer) so seamlessly it was easy to mistake them for bass amp feedback.

The latest innovation in extreme vocal technique is what’s aptly known as the “pig squeal” style, which sounds utterly inhuman and has actually become divisive even within the death metal community. The guttural-but-still-recognizably-words approach of “classic” death metal is abandoned in favor of gurgles and bubblings that seem impossible to produce using a human throat—the impression is of a badly malfunctioning toilet on the brink of explosion. And of course, there are the ear-piercing squeals that serve as punctuation at the end of lines. The overall effect is both alienating and personality-flattening, as the effect saps all the vocalist’s individuality. A perfect example of this phenomenon is Inherit Disease’s 2010 album Visceral Transcendence, on which four different guest vocalists appear—none of whom can be identified, or even told apart from the primary gurgler.

Like most formerly underground artistic strategies, extreme vocals have been incorporated into the avant-garde (or, perhaps, had their existing avant-garde nature recognized by peers). Sunn O))), with Attila Csihar on vocals, have performed as part of a gallery installation by visual artist Banks Violette; Morbid Angel vocalist Steve Tucker’s growls were incorporated into Matthew Barney’s surrealist film Cremaster 2; Brutal Truth frontman Kevin Sharp and Mike Patton, among others, have worked with John Zorn. “Pig squeal” sounds have yet to make the transition to art-scene acceptance, though—some things remain beyond the pale, which is probably exactly how the artists want it.

Here’s a Spotify playlist featuring all the bands discussed above, plus a few more:

June 5, 2012

Kreator

Phantom Antichrist (Nuclear Blast)

by Phil Freeman

Buy it from Amazon

Kreator are one of the “Big Three” German thrash metal bands of the 1980s (paralleling the “Big Four” in the U.S.: Metallica, Megadeth, Slayer and Anthrax). Along with Destruction and Sodom, they established a new paradigm for German metal, seizing the spotlight from veterans like Scorpions and Accept. Each of these bands brought something different to the table. Sodom were practically cavemen, battering their instruments in a manner that made Venom and Motörhead sound like prog-rockers. Destruction were their polar opposites, tight, hard-riffing masters of the thrash form who created some of the most anthemic songs of the era. Kreator fell somewhere in the middle—while tracks from early albums like Pleasure to Kill and Endless Pain had a punky aggression, their guitar sound and frantic double bass drumming was pure metal. What really set Kreator apart, though, was vocalist Mille Petrozza‘s lyrical sensibility, which was more explicitly political and socially engaged than anything his peers were offering. He went beyond rote criticisms of government oppression and dealt with subjects like environmental damage and Germany’s Nazi legacy.

After five superb albums (Endless Pain, Pleasure to Kill, Terrible Certainty, Extreme Aggression and Coma of Souls) between 1985 and 1990, Kreator underwent some stylistic shifts on a string of less artistically and commercially successful albums: 1992′s Renewal, 1995′s Cause for Conflict, 1997′s Outcast and 1999′s Endorama saw the band embracing elements of industrial and eschewing things like guitar solos and high-speed riffing. But in their third decade, beginning with 2001′s Violent Revolution and continuing on 2005′s Enemy of God and 2009′s Hordes of Chaos, they’ve reclaimed their status as thrash metal royalty. Their experimental phase over, they’re now about retaining hard-earned status. And Phantom Antichrist, despite its inscrutable title, is a hell of a holding action.

Kreator’s thrash sound is as muscular as ever in 2012, but there are some surprises to be found on the album. The third track, “From Flood into Fire,” sounds like the band has been listening to Swedish melodic death metal act Arch Enemy; the opening guitar fanfare is almost identical to “Enter the Machine,” the opening track from that band’s 2005 album Doomsday Machine, and the chorus has the same fist-pumping quality that’s taken Arch Enemy from club shows to festival main stages. Other tracks, notably the galloping “Civilization Collapse,” the marching “The Few, the Proud, the Broken,” and the moody “Your Heaven My Hell,” seem to take elements from recent Iron Maiden; they’ve got the same meditative, folk-through-a-wall-of-amps feel as albums like A Matter of Life and Death and The Final Frontier, and on “Your Heaven My Hell,” bassist Christian Geisler gets the kind of space in the mix Steve Harris has long enjoyed.

All that said, Kreator are still themselves, and there’s not a bad song on this record. The guitar team of Mille Petrozza and Sami Yli-Sirniö (with the band since 2001) trade lead lines, shifting between raw thrash intensity and classically-inspired shredding, and Petrozza’s vocals are as fierce as they’ve ever been. Drummer Jürgen “Ventor” Reil, like Petrozza a founding member of the group, is a hard-hitting, relentless player who’s nevertheless capable of surprising subtlety when the occasion requires. While Phantom Antichrist offers only nine tracks (plus a short instrumental intro) in 45 minutes, that turns out to be a plus, as they make every song count, shifting style just enough from track to track that the disc never becomes samey or monotonous. These guys are true masters of their art, and this is one of the best albums of their career.

November 17, 2010

Crystal Viper

Legends (AFM)

by Phil Freeman

Buy from Amazon

The grip traditional metal holds over headbangers of a certain age is astonishingly strong, and hard to explain to anybody who wasn’t around when this style was developing in the early 1980s. Bands like Judas Priest and Iron Maiden, along with dozens of lesser-known brethren, set the paradigm: powerful, upper-register vocals; screaming lead guitars; galloping rhythms; drums like cannon-fire. In America, the style came and went, primarily because no homegrown bands succeeded with it, except for Dio. Ronnie was always the odd man out, though, pushing the theatrical, fantasy-driven thing farther than anybody else dared.

No, in the States, metal was glam, then thrash, then death, and now it’s a fistful of subgenres all feuding with each other about which ones are truly metal and which ones are bullshit for boneheaded kids who don’t know what real music sounds like. Aside from glam, it’s always been about appearing life-sized, rather than over the top. American headbangers worship Rob Halford and Bruce Dickinson (and Dio, perhaps even more in death than in the last few years of his non-Heaven and Hell career), but we relate to Metallica and Motörhead (British, but adopted, especially since Lemmy lives in L.A. now). A band like Manowar, that traffics in rhetoric implying that metal is some sort of mystical brotherhood and gives every impression of living by some opaque code, gets laughed at.

In Europe, though, traditional metal is still a major force, its larger-than-life musical and lyrical values, and performances based more around instrumental skill than attempts to convey badassery continuing to win over young listeners. Power metal takes this sound to its ultimate extreme, but there are plenty of bands around making albums that could have been released at any time between 1980 and today. And as I get older, and sicker of guttural vocals, downtuned guitars, and songs I can’t remember a minute after I hear them (but boy are they “brutal”!), traditional metal becomes more and more appealing. I know with that last sentence, I’m sounding like Mike Scalzi of San Francisco’s Slough Feg, who articulated similar sentiments in a rant on InvisibleOranges.com, but the simple truth is, a lot of death metal, black metal, thrash metal, grindcore, etc., is just lacking in the anthemic power I’m seeking these days. I want to be catapulted out of myself by the raw glory of a metal song, not smacked in the face with a fistful of tossed gravel.

Crystal Viper is a traditional metal band from Katowice, Poland. Legends is their third studio album, fourth release overall (they also put out a live album, with a few studio tracks tacked on, earlier this year). They’ve been through more than their share of lineup turnover since forming in 2003; the only member who’s been a constant presence has been vocalist Marta “Leather Wych” Gabriel. Since the band is managed by her husband, this raises questions, but never mind that. Legends is a really good album.

Like its two predecessors (2007′s The Curse of Crystal Viper and 2009′s Metal Nation), the album runs just about 45 minutes and includes nine songs and a short intro. The cover, as you can see above, is awesome: seriously, a scythe-wielding werewolf riding a horse outside a moonlit castle? Not only would the horse require special training to allow a werewolf on its back (imagine its shock if, say, they passed through a clearing, the light of the full moon fell upon its to-that-point human rider, and he suddenly became a slavering man-beast), but the werewolf would likely have to exhibit extraordinary self-control to keep from eating the horse. But I digress.

The songs are melodic and catchy. There are no ballads to slow things down. The band gallops forward, and Gabriel, whose voice is like a cross between that of power metal queen Doro Pesch and Arch Enemy vocalist Angela Gossow at her cleanest, sings of larger-than-life topics (though her actual words are often obscured by a thickish accent, track titles like “Blood of the Heroes,” “Goddess of Death,” “Night of the Sin,” “The Ghost Ship,” “Secret of the Black Water” and “Black Leviathan” give strong hints). There are guitar solos. They’re performed with energy and skill. (In addition to singing, Gabriel is the band’s rhythm guitarist, something that separates her from almost every other female vocalist in metal right now.) The bass is prominent in the mix, and somewhat high, in imitation of Iron Maiden’s Steve Harris. This isn’t even a headbanging album; it’s a fist-pumping album.

Here’s a video. If you like what you see/hear, buy it from Amazon (MP3 only; there’s no domestic CD release yet).

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