Those who have already been exposed to Fantomas through their self-titled 1999 debut and/or 2001’s collection of theme song covers (entitled «The Director’s Cut») will pretty much give up trying to predict the band’s direction on «Delirium Cordia». For the most part, this would be a very sound choice. It has always seemed (to me, at least) that this project is simply an excuse for Mike Patton to piss on every musical convention ever created just for the sake of doing so. While he has certainly come up with some interesting (if not brilliant) displays of aural extremity, Patton often succeeds in annoying the listener to the point that his more exhilarating moments are regrettably compromised.

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If the sheer number of bands operating under the technical metalcore banner hasn’t started to bother you, it should. Since the likes of The Dillinger Escape Plan exploded onto the scene in the mid to late 90’s, it seems that everyone and their mother has put out a CD to document their attempts at capturing the aforementioned band’s dissonant riffs and twisted rhythmic schemes. Few were successful, until Drowningman came along. They succeeded where others failed, but their achievement was not due to the photogenic mimicry that plagued their contemporaries. What set them apart from the pack was the smooth addition of new elements (i.e., emotional melodic phrases) to an old formula. To the credit of their peers, Drowningman was not the first band to experiment in this manner. However, they were one of very few to make a truly significant contribution to the genre, which had become mediocre on its best days, and painfully listless on its worst.

Enter Ion Dissonance: a French-Canadian quintet that has almost saved the day with their debut album for Willowtip. An immediately noticeable difference between these guys and others of their style is the level of enthusiasm they portray, which comes across nicely on all of this disc’s nine tracks. Additionally, the band members seem to realize that they are at a stage of the game where nothing less than absolute tightness and technical precision will suffice. In response, they flaunt their instrumental skills at every turn. The intricacy of their riffing combined with the flawless time-keeping skills of drummer Jean-Francois Richard is enough drive most DEP clones into early retirement.

As highlights go, I found the all-around craziness of «The Bud Dwyer Effect» to be especially invigorating, although «Failure in the Process of Identifying a Dream» (which shows a moodier, more melodic side to ID’s repertoire) is certainly a standout track as well. «Binary, Part II» is easily my favorite cut, as it alternates harsh screams and malevolent guitar licks with eerily quiet jazz sections which contain mumbled dialogue and echoing laughter in the background. My final pick would be «A Regular Dose of Azure», which starts out with the same punishing fervor that is displayed on the other tracks, but ends with a dual guitar-solo that reminds me more of Armored Saint than the influences one would expect from a band of this sort.

I must commend Willowtip on their decision to sign Ion Dissonance, as their method of aggression is somewhat different from the likes of Sadis Euphoria or Kalibas. There are few out there who are operating at this level of calculated chaos, and I dare say that even fewer will arise in the near future. If you are among those who think that the technical metalcore genre has shown all it has to offer (and I must admit to having felt this way a mere week ago), think again.

To put it bluntly, the current grind scene has become increasingly bland due to over-saturation and an almost complete lack of innovation. Today’s bands are finding it much easier to ride on the coat tails of their predecessors, rather than giving the genre a much-needed shot of adrenaline straight into its heart. The fact that there is so much hype surrounding these «neo-grind» outfits is nearly incomprehensible, and it saddens me to think that an entire generation of misguided youth is actually embracing bands like Gorerotted and Cattle Decapitation with the same fervor that supported Terrorizer and Carcass throughout their early 90’s heyday.

However, there are some currently active bands that seem poised to save the scene from nauseating mediocrity, one of which is Brazil’s Hutt. While not stunningly unique or innovative, this band’s debut release puts them considerably ahead of their peers. With «Miseravel», Hutt shows itself to be a powerful, forward-thinking musical unit with a strong sense of maturity in terms of songwriting and instrumental proficiency. While most bands that possess these qualities end up inadvertently hampering their aggressive nature, such is not the case with this Sao Paulo-based quartet. Each of these ten tracks stings the listener like the crack of a bullwhip across bare flesh. Few surpass one minute in length, which seems ideal in light of the fact that Hutt draws much of its inspiration from the likes of Pig Destroyer, Assuck, and Nasum. To prolong any of these songs would mean lessening their impact, which would be tantamount to sacrilege. For more info (and the opportunity to download the entire CD in mp3 format), check out http://www.hutt.ca.tc/.

Only 30 seconds of this disc had elapsed when multiple references to the «proggy» folk-metal of Amorphis became clear. Before indulging this thought any further, however, an introduction is in order. Lumsk is a seven-piece band from Norway that specializes in mature, thoughtful compositions that are as focused as they are diverse. The Scandinavian folk influence is most prominent on the first track, entitled «I lytinne tva». This song displays the talents of violinist Siv Lena, whose fluid string playing weaves a melodious tapestry of emotion that is somehow passive, yet urgent. This creates the ideal canvas on which singer Vibeke Arntzen’s vocal lamentations take form. While her performance is too typical of this genre (and thus, not overly impressive), it creates a sufficient sense of moodiness and intrigue.

«Ormin lange» begins with the melancholy tones of a pipe organ, over which a brief soliloquy foreshadows the story to come. According to Norwegian legend, Asmund Fregdegjaever was a gallant soldier who rescued a princess from the clutches of an evil female ogre named Skome-gyri. Sure, it sounds cheesy, but there is scarcely a nation in the world whose folklore doesnТt include the usual story of a «damsel in distress». Thus, Lumsk doesnТt lose any points for this disc’s conceptual leanings. Getting back to the track at hand, it seems that this band is intent on distinguishing themselves from others of their ilk. Upon the intro’s conclusion, guitarists Bjornar Selsbak and Eystein Garberg engage the listener with a doom-laden riff that is simultaneously contemplative and crushing. The title of this song is derived from the name of the ship that Asmund sailed on to carry out his heroic task, and it is especially fitting given the track’s epic keyboard melodies and haunting vocals.

Next up is «I trollehender», which serves as yet another exercise in punishing heaviness. We’re not talking about the type of heaviness that is/was practiced by Evoken or Thorr’s Hammer, but it is nonetheless extremely effective in context with the bandТs memorable songwriting skills. Lastly, we have «Kampen mot bergetrolli», which continues in the fine tradition of its three predecessors. This cut combines the bulky riffs of the previous two tracks with more fine string work by Siv Lena and the prominent keyboard presence of Espen Warankov Gobo. As its main theme soars into oblivion, one can’t help but feel disappointed by this disc’s mere 20-minute duration.

As this review comes to a close, I find it necessary to mention that the previous reference to Amorphis is perhaps not entirely fair. While the conceptual similarities between the two bands will undoubtedly raise the same comparison for many, the members of Lumsk are obviously trying to venture away from more frequently traveled waters. Where so many of their peers tend to obscure their metal roots through symphonic wankering (Therion, anyone?), this band embraces all of their influences and molds them into something that both captivates the mind and devastates the body. Check them out at http://www.lumsk.com.

At the risk of sounding arrogant, I must express my dismay at the number of mediocre band interviews that zine editors are willing to print these days. What s worse is that few (if any) seem concerned about the endless string of mundane, noncommital answers that run continuously from one interview to the next. It s only when they are confronted with a truly demanding set of questions that bands are forced to come out of their shell and start talking in earnest. However, there exists an exceptional minority of musicians who don t require a highly provocative, in-your-face set of queries in order to get the ball rolling. We are glad to report that Ferrara Brain Pan is one such musician. For the appropriate background info, be sure to check out our review of Brain Pan s latest project (Forms Of Things Unknown) and check out his website (http://www.formsofthingsunknown.com). Furthermore, it might help some of you to check out the New Gibralter Encyclopedia of Progressive Rock (http://www.gepr.net) for relevant info on some of the more esoteric musical movements that Ferrara refers to throughout the interview.

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Before I had the opportunity to hear their music, I already knew a few things about All Is Suffering. A handful of articles from numerous sources advised me that they were a Maryland-based quartet which specializes in a rather eclectic brand of extreme metal. They also seemed to have an interesting sense of humor (more on that in a future installment), not to mention an unreasonable distaste for Buddhism. It sort of makes me wonder; what kind of traumatic childhood experience could possibly induce contempt for a philosophical system which embraces tolerance as one of its central tenets? Isn’t Catholicism supposed to fit that bill? Then again, maybe these guys know something that I don’t. Maybe we should be investigating the Dalai Lama’s private life, instead of blaming Pope John Paul for his failure to include compulsory neuterings as a requirement for priesthood.

Alright….now that I’ve successfully veered completely off-topic, let’s get back on track. «The Past…» is essentially a collection of AIS material from three different recording sessions. The first five tracks consist of the band’s newer material, while the remaining songs were either culled from their 7 (released in 1999), or taken from an early demo session. I usually have an aversion toward discography-type albums, but I must admit that this disc has provided me with one of my more interesting listening experiences in recent memory. I don’t necessarily mean to imply that AIS is unique, because each of the songs on this album reminds me of something I’ve heard before. But they confront the usual pitfalls of blandness or originality by throwing a blanket of crust over everything. As comparisons go, imagine the agonizingly heavy plod-core of Bolt Thrower’s newer material, the frenzied mind-fuck of early Napalm Death/His Hero Is Gone, and the frightfully unbalanced melodic structures of The Bodybag Romance. Agitate thoroughly, then dust it off with the raw attitude of Amebix. This recipe should give you a rough approximation of what AIS is up to, but you’re still not quite there. While they have undoubtedly predisposed themselves to negative karma, AIS truly delivers with this exceptional slab of well-tempered brutality.

Dipnoi is sort of a «second» band for bassist Bernardo Andrea, who some of you might know as the main man behind Brazil’s finest grind outfit, Are You God?. Before I proceed any further, it would be highly advisable for potential listeners to dispose of any expectations, however, because this band is very different from Andrea’s parent project. The first thirty seconds of the title track had me thinking that Dipnoi was essentially a throwback to the mid-paced thrash metal that Sacred Reich established during the late eighties with albums such as «The American Way». While the band revisits this style several times over the course of all three tracks, they deviate from it frequently enough to defy the trappings of any specific genre. This is especially apparent when vocalist Ricardo Matsurnoto enters the picture. His more aggressive singing is of the rhythmic barking variety (a la Lamb Of God), but there is another side to his approach, which employs the rough, yet melodic crooning of Glenn Danzig or Burn It Down’s Ryan Downey. Overall, Matsurnoto’s delivery is too modern-sounding to appease my tastes, but it’s only fair for me to point out that I’ve always hated Burn It Down, and none of Danzig’s projects has ever appealed to me in the least.

The riffing on this disc is obviously Dipnoi’s strength, and the production (provided by Tchelo Martins) gives them an added punch that quickly put me in a head-shaking frenzy. Everything is perfectly clear, but not to the extent that it diminishes their power. Additionally, the solos of guitarist Mario Izzo are very tight and distinguished, and sometimes recall the accomplished (though underrated) fret work of ex-Suicidal Tendencies six-stringer Rocky George. Hence, I can comfortably say that Dipnoi has a lot of things working in its favor. The only other thing that really bothers me here is their tendency to add a nu-metallish groove element to certain sections, which (in my opinion) hurts them in the long run. Before I sign off though, I must admit that my first listen to «Torn» was a difficult one, as I was expecting something quite different from what I got. But as I mentioned earlier, this is probably the worst mistake a reviewer can make. A preconceived notion is indeed a tough beast to conquer. But at times, it’s a beast that must be conquered. Check these guys out for free http://www.mp3.com/dipnoi.

This disc arrived with a sticker which says «File under Dark Ambient/Goth/Art Rock/Experimental». Unfortunately, these terms have become rather ambiguous due to the sheer number of bands who are (mis)labeled as such. Journalists have a funny way of subjectively applying genre tags to everything they hear, with little regard for how they might be misconstrued. This is the reason that everything from Wishbone Ash to Magma gets slapped with the «progressive rock» tag, while Naked City and Spyro Gyra end up together in the «jazz» bin. One would think that music journalists have an obligation to act as a sort of shore beacon. After all, they have taken it upon themselves to navigate through a complex mire of indiscernible styles and overlapping genres. They should ultimately emerge from this experience with a keen understanding of how their critical skills can be used to elicit clarity and coherence. Instead, their readers are often left with a series of vague comparisons and indistinct references which do nothing to guide them.

Forms of Things Unknown is the pet project of one Ferrara Brain Pan: an eccentric multi-instrumentalist whose accolades date back to 1977, when he paired up with veteran noise connoisseur Boyd Rice for a recording which never saw the light of day. To date, Brain Pan has remained prolific with a total of fourteen official recordings under his belt. His musical range covers everything from atmospheric works (with 23 Degrees and Darmstadt Pharmacy) to the experimental/psychedelic weirdness of Faust. For the sake of the uninitiated, we might best describe the latter outfit as a German band which (along with Amon Duul II) occupied the progressive rock sub-genre known as Kraut Rock. There is little point in describing this style any further, as words inevitably fail. But Brain Pan’s mere association with such an inventive movement serves to distinguish him as an «artist’s artist». His music can genuinely be called «esoteric», because its diversity and conceptual density will prevent less diligent ears from stepping any closer. It seems that rather than doing a disservice to the potential listener, the jacket sticker on «Cross Purposes» actually gives a good impression of what lies within.

This 30-minute EP begins with the humorously-titled «Black Candles & Pentagrams’n'Shit»; a track which covers just over half the album’s duration. It is divided into two sections, the first of which is called «Risen, The Judas Moon». This cut begins with a sustained metallic ring which waxes and wanes in volume until the 3-minute mark is reached. Various woodwind instruments (which sound like reeds, or maybe some sort of oboe) begin to weave in and out of the mix, resulting in an ambiance of wailing, primal urgency. Occasional percussion rolls accentuate their lament as the woodwinds allow a low synth growl to bring them into the next section, «Errant Bodies». This track is slightly more structured than the previous entry, with a deep, resounding bassoon melody (or is it bass clarinet?) hanging over a subtle atmospheric backdrop. Before long, we’re led into another two-part saga entitled «Mariam Matrem», which means «Mother Mary». This track is basically a re-arranged Christian hymn, which might imply that Brain Pan intended for «Cross Purposes» to illustrate some sort of religious dichotomy. Whatever the case, «Mariam Matrem» is a beautifully executed piece which features a multi-tracked Baroque melody, presumably played on flutes. The listener is gradually pulled into a soprano vocal section that is sung entirely in Latin. Those of us who are still recovering from the painful memories of a Catholic upbringing will find the performance of vocalist Shannon Wolfe very compelling, if not traumatic. It’s almost comedic that so many horny young males are moved to orgasm by such singers as Cristina Scabbia (Lacuna Coil) or Anneke van Giersbergen (The Gathering) when a singer of Wolfe’s aptitude is prowling about. Her performance occupies a range which is likely inaccessible to either of the aforementioned vocalists, and she truly rises to the occasion.

This disc comes to its conclusion with the song «Stupid Blood», which is a Howard Devoto cover. It begins with an ominous note sequence which sounds like it’s being played on a keyboard, until closer inspection reveals that Brain Pan’s woodwinds are the source. Rich baritone vocals soon enter the picture, with guest singer Bob Ayres creating a vibe that is melancholy, and yet eerily emotionless. The song ultimately progresses into a huge display of compositional grandeur, complete with a sax solo and intense interplay among various other horns and woodwinds. The song eventually develops into an odd, yet spectacular amalgam of instruments, which collectively evoke visions of a bagpipe quintet.

Material of this nature has a propensity for dullness when it becomes lengthy, and hence, unfocused. I would normally be grateful for a recording that lasts a mere 30 minutes, but in this case, it’s not enough. It seems that the three pieces on «Cross Purposes» are complete, in the sense that drawing them out for longer durations would be pointless. Had three more tracks of similar material been added, this would have been a perfect release. Those who appreciate avant-grade music that resides a little «outside the box» will certainly enjoy Forms Of Things Unknown. Further inquiries will be satisfied at: http://www.formsofthingsunknown.com.

Fans of this band might be anticipating a surprise with this disc, as CODC»s lineup has changed considerably since they released «The Genocide Machine» in 2001. The band’s drum and bass slots were vacated during the intervening years, but they were only able to obtain one replacement, that being drummer Mike Rosswog. Rather than wait for a new bassist to come along, original members Joe Horvath (vocals) and Jason Andrews (guitar) decided to move forward with the recording of their fourth opus, «Human Harvest».

After listening to this album for a mere thirty seconds, it becomes apparent that the absence of a bass player has only amplified CODC’s insatiable hunger for pure aural savagery. After a brief sample of spoken dialogue, the listener is treated to the equivalent of a 12-gauge shotgun going off in his face. It all starts with Andrews’ guitar riffs, which have evolved into a presence that is blunter and and more forceful than in the past. Fans of the sharper, more precise riffs that adorned «The Genocide Machine» might initially find his new style to be less appealing, but this will likely change with repeated listens. Where the previous record was technically satisfying due to the clarity of the guitar tracks, » Human Harvest» is a bit foggier and more dense. In fact, it may be necessary to scan backwards after certain passages just to figure out what the hell is going on. This is especially true on the first and third tracks (»A Family Tree To Hang From» and «Salt Rock Eyes», respectively), where the mix is thick to the point of near-suffocation. But the band somehow allows this potential flaw to become an asset, in that it creates an impenetrable atmosphere which enhances the album as a whole. With this simple bit of groundwork laid out, CODC proceeds to immerse you in a world of frightening extremes. Whether it’s the brutally short (3-5 second) disintegration of tracks like «No Tolerance For Silence» and «White Trash Headache», or the perverse intermingling of grind and truncheon-swinging doom on «Harvest at Dawn» and «Corsage of Fresh Meat and Rotting Pride», this disc is an unmitigated assault against moderation and restraint. «Mother Pig» is one of very few disparate tracks on the album, as it features the aforementioned grind/doom duality, but with a liberal dose feedback and caustic shrills laced throughout.

Several people have already pointed out the supposed parallels (both thematic and musical) between «Human Harvest» and Pig Destroyer’s «Prowler in the Yard» album. Such comparisons aren’t entirely fallacious, as there is a sort of familiarity in how the tracks flow. Both records evoke a sense of manic urgency with their sudden tempo changes, abrupt stops and starts, and overall style of songwriting (which might best be described as «stream of conscious»). Releases such as these don’t appear to be overly calculated, as the musicians are clearly pulling inspiration from the gut, rather than spending countless hours trying to think everything through. Here is where the sheer brilliance in these bands clearly shines through; their instinctive approach to writing and playing doesn’t necessitate a lapse in tightness or execution. With this release, CODC once again proves that beauty and brutality can (and often does) walk hand in hand.

Amidst the likes of Sinister and Inhumate, a new breed of death-wielding diabolos has arrived. The four-piece death squad known as Desensitised is but one of these bands, but their approach to the genre proves to be a little off the beaten path. Originally formed in 1994, the Eindhoven-based quartet has spent a good amount of time playing gigs throughout Western Europe, sharing bills with such noteworthy acts as Agathocles, Dead Infection and Rebaelliun. Despite repeated difficulties in maintaining a stable line-up, Desensitised is now entering their eighth year as a band, and a full length CD entitled «Thriving On The Carnage» is in the works. The three songs on this promo CD will also appear on that album, and from the looks of things, I’m definitely interested in hearing what else they have to offer.

The music here is of a very direct style, which merges the «less is more» mentality of Jungle Rot with a melodic edge that somehow fuses classic hardcore riffs with the «tunefulness» of the early death metal pioneers, such as Morgoth and Obituary. While none of these songs is particularly technical, the tempos are skillfully arranged to maximize their punch. Desensitised will likely be releasing their debut any day now, so head on over to www.listen.to/desensitised for more info.