Funniest thing happened when I slipped on First Light’s Freeze, the new album by Castanets- as I pressed play, the wind picked up a little bit. At first I didn’t notice, but as I kept walking, cold, dreary, vacant track after track passing by, the temperature actually dropped. By the time I was nearing the album’s end, the sunny Indiana day in which I had begun to listen to the CD had been replaced by vacuous arctic tundra. It snowed so hard every building was covered and by the time I got to “Reflecting in the Angles,” the album’s last song, I was left, alone, dying on a sheet of ice. And let me tell you, if you are EVER planning on enduring a slow, frostbitten death, I cannot recommend a more perfect soundtrack than First Light’s Freeze. Do not be fooled by the sticker on the album’s front that boasts an appearance from labelmate Sufjan Stevens, as this album could not be farther away from the energetic, usually chipper pop associated with Stevens. This is austere, it is sparse, and it is uninviting.
So what does it sound like? A singer/songwriter trapped in a frozen cabin all winter without outside contact, his only sources of sanity coming from a tape recorder, a drum machine, and a microphone. If Iron & Wine had been berated by all his friends and moved to Alaskato seek refuge. Elliott Smith’s winter vacation. On “Into the Night,” the album’s first substantial track (there are 5 pleasant mood-setting instrumentals among the other songs) songwriter and lead sing Raymond Raposa sings: “Let’s take a walk dear, into the murderous night.” It does not get any brighter from this point. “Good Friend, Yr Hunger” is a beautiful banjo led number, and is the closest the group gets to a conventional song, but lyrics such as, “friend I cannot befriend you true / in seeking out my light in you” show a solitude that betray the fleshed out arrangement.
The most remarkable song on the album, though, is the title track, which begins with carefully picked guitar and glockenspiel, which after a period of silence give way to Raposa’s hardened voice and the sound of water dripping, of ice melting, of some warmth, but the songs final line “The night is long / Come light,” leads to a vacant drum machine beat, a sign there will be no conclusion, and only after this do we find ourselves back with the guitar line that we began with, leaving our protagonist struggling through the night, no closer to day than when we met him. There is promise of a brighter period in the driving (well, for this album, at least) “No Voice was Raised,” which has Raposa’s voice buttressed by a delayed electric guitar and beautiful female vocal backing. Near its conclusion, the song gives way to a wall of Sonic Youth-esque noise, the least expected turn on the album, and one that clashes with the songs refrain, “no voice was raised / no song was sung.”
The album’s isolation (“I wanna get high on something / go dancing with someone,” are the most poignant lines from “Dancing with Someone (Privilege of Everything)”) is both its highest spectacle and its biggest flaw. There is little relief from the albums frigid tone, making the album much better as one large expression of a feeling than as a collection of individual tracks. However, if you’re the kind of person who spends all summer indoors with the blinds drawn, loathing every moment until the temperature drops, First Light’s Freeze could be the soundtrack to your next ice fishing or snow shoeing adventure.
(Asthmatic Kitty Records)
Good Riddance – Thoughts and Prayers
The fire still burns brightly for Good Riddance
It would seem that the current US administration has proven to be fertile fields for political punks. If there is a positive to have come out of the past few years, it is in the form of angry punk rock records. The aptly titled Thoughts and Prayers, the new record by Good Riddance, could very well be the best of them. For many like myself, Good Riddance was the gateway to a world of punk rock socio-political commentary; wrapped in aggressive, melodic hardcore that opened your mind as much as it punched a hole in the wall. 1996’s A Comprehensive Guide to Moderne Rebellion and the really terrific 1998 record Ballads from the Revolution, were eye-opening propositions for a wide-eyed kid. Good Riddance resonated because their songs were hard-hitting commentary that sounded like broken-hearted punk rock songs. They sang intelligently about inequality, human despair, and the sometimes broken system in which we live in. And when their broken-hearted punk rock songs weren’t about society and politics, they were broken-hearted punk rock songs about broken hearts (don’t think there have been love songs as good in the genre as “Jeannie” and “Not With Him”).
Four years since their comeback record, Peace In Our Time, we get the much more furious Thoughts and Prayers. 12 songs of trademark breakneck melodic hardcore that talks about the divisive current political climate without going as far as saying things like “Trump sucks”. But that’s never been the Good Riddance way. Vocalist and chief lyricist Russ Rankin has always found a way to express his anger and disappointment with poise and intelligence- sounding more like a well-read poet than a man yelling on a street corner.
In the track “Don’t Have Time”, he sings about the futility of repeating history to trumpet nationalism; “And those same old fears arise / With eyes too drawn to counteract / The ghost in you comes rushing back / Too caustic to subside / Just what have we done? / We killed a mother’s only son / Just to remain at number one“. And lyrically, much of takes a similar route of well-written stanzas that question a lot of what is going on in the world at the present time. Songs like the opening “Edmund Pettus Bridge” (let’s hope everyone knows the significance of this landmark), replete with Michael Douglas Wall Street sound byte, sings of social inequality but does it with a trace of hope. While songs like “The Great Divide” are an example of melodic hardcore’s finest moments; unrelenting sonic pummeling that is as melodic as it is potent. “Wish You Well” takes cues from Good Riddance’s “softer” tones of catchy choruses and mid-tempo verses; akin to the track “Saccharine” (from 2003’s Bound by Ties of Blood and Affection). Perhaps the best thing about the 12 songs here is that they are all very succinct, potent, with rarely a moment of filler. The album is consistently good, and while it rarely deviates from the Good Riddance sound, it never lacks in the fire and fury we’ve come to expect.
The album itself SOUNDS fantastic, credit again to Bill Stevenson and Jason Livermore at The Blasting Room for their production. The guitars rip at the right levels while the percussion work hits just right. The mixing levels are as close to perfect as you can get without any one element dominating over another- a constant the band have found since 1999’s Operation Phoenix (no surprise, the first of their albums to have been produced at the Blasting Room).
The appeal of Good Riddance has always been two-fold. Firstly, their music has shown steadfast quality, and the albums have found longevity due to the way Rankin and company write their songs. With lyrics referring to and talking about a multitude of humanist issues without having to directly reference them, they remain political, timely, writing music as urgent as it was through the 90s as it is today. That may be a sad indictment of society itself, but it doesn’t take away from their effectiveness and influence. Rankin himself has said that their music may not have changed the world per se, they continue to open eyes and minds. This writer can attest to the latter- and the importance of that can’t be underlined enough. Their early discography spoke to my generation about life, self, and the interconnected reality of the world we live- no matter how hard to try not to believe it. Thoughts and Prayers is a furious, timely, and potent slab of hard-hitting melodic hardcore and shows that the fire clearly still burns as passionately for Good Riddance as it did all those years ago. And perhaps it’ll be what A Comprehensive Guide to Moderne Rebellion and Ballads From the Revolution was to me for a whole new generation.
Hatriot – From Days Unto Darkness
From Days Unto Darkness is a relentless pummeling of thrash metal’s best qualities
When it comes to Bay Area thrash metal, there are two bands that sit atop the mountain forever entwined to its history; Metallica and Exodus. Both bands linked together by Kirk Hammett, both bands crucial to the Bay Area’s most destructive form of music. Exodus may not have their name in lights as Metallica does, but Exodus’ influence cannot be mistaken- and many point to them as being the one true progenitor of Bay Area thrash. Hatriot, a band that was started by Exodus vocalist Steve Souza in 2011, are a real chip off the ol’ block. Surprisingly, it isn’t just musically that Hatriot follows suit from Exodus, its a family thing too. While Steve Souza left Hatriot in 2015, his sons Nick and Cody continue on percussions and guitars with the latter taking on vocal duties once the older Souza returned to Exodus.
Hatriot does more than just follow on the Exodus path; they’ve loudly carved their own slice of the thrash pie. Led by Kosta Varvatakis shredding guitar work and Cody Souza’s blistering (sometimes ominous) vocal work, Hatriot may have found their Fabulous Disaster, ironically, also three albums in.
From Days Unto Darkness is a relentless pummeling of thrash metal’s best qualities; machine gun percussion work (I’m a sucker for some great double bass drums), shredding guitars, soaring solos, and vocals that does the growling well, and the screaming even better. Tracks like “Organic Remains” and the blistering “Carnival of Execution” showcase the band’s ability to craft songs that are equal parts urgency and solid musicianship. Thematically, From Days Unto Darkness covers the usual thrash metal spread; the end times, death, destruction, and humanity’s failing graces- all done with equal breakneck, ear piercing destruction sonically. “World, Flesh & Devil” is perhaps the album’s best outing- a raging beast of a song, that if carnage could be written in music form, this is it incarnate. At 4:26, it is one of the shorter tracks of the release, but much of the album features in at the 6-7 minute mark- a trademark of thrash metal’s desire to not only showcase talent but to do it over extended periods.
What the album lacks perhaps is that one magnum opus of a track. Sure, it’s not easy for any band to write “Master of Puppets”, but From Days Unto Darkness rarely takes a breather. It’s mostly positive, but while Master had at times, slow interludes to let you catch your breath, Hatriot takes absolutely no prisoners- staying true to their thrash metal heritage. If you’re not quite up for it, this album will hammer you into a stupor.
The halcyon days of Bay Area thrash metal may be long resigned to nostalgic documentaries, but Hatriot are not interested in just being a throwback to their roots. From Days Unto Darkness is not for the weak and if this is the sign that thrash metal is alive and kicking, then the future and present are in damn good hands.