(Andy Synn once more serves as our in-house ambassador for the UK Metal scene)
Like I’ve said before, many times, it’s impossible for any of us here at NCS to cover all the artists/albums we really want to, which means some hard choices have to be made each month.
This extends, obviously, to these irregular “Best of British” columns, as while I’d love to highlight each and every band from here that I think would be worthy of your time… I just don’t have the time myself to do so.
Case in point, I’m probably not going to be writing anything about the new albums from Green Lung (which is a good album, no doubt, but they already receive enough praise and attention elsewhere), Noctule (simply because I haven’t heard it), or Burner (which, to be totally honest, I thought was a massive disappointment, though I’m sure lots of people are going to love it), so you’ll just have to form your own opinions on those without my penetrating insights (I know, I’m so sorry).
The three bands I’ve chosen to cover here today, however, all have much less exposure, and all skew much more towards the harsher side of the sonic spectrum, which is why I thought it was more important to feature them than some of the more hyped-up members of the scene… a decision which, hopefully, you’ll all agree was the right one after checking them out.
JØTNARR – FEET FIRST ON THE CORPSE PATH
Let me tell you something… the excellently-titled new album from Black/Crust bruisers Jøtnarr is such a break-neck barn-burner of a record that I had to go back and check what I’d previously written about the band (and give their last couple of releases a listen) to confirm that, yes, while they may have been building in intensity for years now (with 2022’s Rotten Fucking Planet in particular achieving a new level of aggression) this really is the heaviest, harshest they’ve ever been.
And whether you attribute that to the slightly reworked line-up, or simply a response to the world around us, one thing is clear… they aren’t pulling any punches this time around.
Ok, maybe that’s a slight exaggeration, as there’s a few unexpectedly melodic touches to be hear during tracks like “Hold Tight” and blistering mid-album highlight “Yestermorn” (which welds a dash of melody onto an iron-clad chassis of feral blackened fury), and the band even provide a sombre instrumental interlude in the shape of the brooding “The Tremor Beneath All Things”, but these moments are less about Jøtnarr choosing to take their foot off the gas and more about them really winding up for an even bigger swing (with the killer closing combo of the wild, blast-driven “Lychgate” and visceral, venom-spitting closer “Father of Plagues” hitting even harder as a result).
Of course, by skipping straight to the end there I feel like I’ve overlooked a few things – like the punishing, sub-two-minute Punk-Metal pounding of opener “Every Stone a Grave” or the sheer, scorching riffosity of early stand-out “Lady of the Blade” – but that just means you should go check them out yourself ASAP, especially if you’re a fan of bands like Tragedy, Trap Them, Martyrdöd, and maybe even Mantar, and are in the market for something similarly uncompromising and in-your-face.
KULK – CHOOSING TO DIE
With their latest album having been released on the seemingly ubiquitous (in a good way) Church Road Records, it’s hard to say that Kulk haven’t received a fair bit of hype and attention… but I’d still say they’re closer in stature (and overall exposure) to the other two bands mentioned here than they are for the more zeitgeist-grabbing names mentioned in the intro.
Maybe not for long though, as while Kulk are ostensibly billed as a Drone/Doom duo, you’ll notice that their songs are much shorter and less sprawling than most bands of that nature (all but two of the tracks on Choosing to Die clock in at under four minutes, continuing the shift towards a more primal, punkier approach which they started on It Gets Worse), instead opting for an uglier, sludgier swagger and a brutish, bare-bones heaviness that’s closer in both style and spirit to the self-proclaimed “Battle Doom” of Conan… albeit, to my ears at least, less “Caveman” and more Primitive Man in sound.
But even here the comparison only goes so far, as Kulk‘s approach is even more succinct and stripped-down, eschewing large sections of slow-burning dread – with perhaps only the skulking sonic mass of “Ache” (easily one of the album’s best song) erring slightly in this direction – in favour of more instant impact, with songs like jagged-edged opener “An Endless Knife”, the mercilessly heavy hammering of “We’re Worried About You” (where it honestly sounds like drummer Jade Squires is doing her absolute best to punch straight through her kit), and the appropriately apocalytpic churn ‘n’ burn of “Collapse” leaning more towards the Lord Mantis/Eyehategod end of the spectrum.
Sure, the combined brevity and intensity of the album, while impressive, does mean it kind of speeds past a little too fast for its own good, and maybe a suitably colossal closer (something more akin to “Lone Individual” from their last album, perhaps) might have added just the right amount of icing to this pleasingly dense, heavily distorted cake, but the decision to move away from the dronier and more drawn-out of many of their peers (and some of their own previous works) has ulimately paid off very nicely for Kulk here.
REMOTE VIEWING – STATE VIOLENCE
If you’re not familiar with the back-catalogue of sludgy noise-merchants Remote Viewing, well, do I have a good place for you to get started.
Or you can just dive straight into their recently-released fourth album, State Violence, and let OTT opening track “#makemoneymakelovemakemoney” introduce you to the band’s cacophonous blend of humongous guitars, hammering drums, and howling vocals that lands somewhere between the overwhelming power of Neurosis and the abrasive attack of Will Haven.
But while your initial impression of State Violence is likely to be “holy shit, this is loud“… and it definitely, is, the band brute-forcing all this sheer sonic mass down into an even denser, more compacted core that threatens to explode out in all directions at any second… you’ll find (or, at least, I hope you’ll find) that it’s the subtleties and nuances which make this album stand out from the crowd.
“Retrain As a Swan”, for example, my burst out of the gates with some of the heaviest, heftiest riffage on the entire album (though the doom-laden strains of “Straight to VHS”, which also features some absolutely killer work from new drummer John Breslin behind the kit, might just take the title in that regard) but it’s the harshly hypnotic melodies introduced in the song’s second half which really ensure it leaves a lasting impression.
It’s on singular stand-out “HUMAN RIGHTS”, however, where State Violence truly reaches its peak (which is no slight on equally brilliant follow-up “Accidental Holiday”, which finds the group easing off to take a much needed breather, which allows them to then scream all the louder as the album comes to an end), marrying their signature sludgy stomp and throat-scarring vocals to a greater sense of moody introspection, aided and abetted by some winding, weeping cello, that helps it build to a an unflinchingly caustic, but undeniably cathartic, emotional climax.
Ultimately State Violence is the sound of a band taking bits and pieces of their previous works – the ugly weight of Blood Loss, the subtle dynamics of It’s Better This Way, and the palpitating rage of Modern Addictions – and spinning them into a new shape, one that’s a little nastier, a little noisier, and a little more perfect for fans of bands like Great Falls, Ken Mode, and other artists who take a similar sense of obscene pride in all their rough, ragged edges.