Steel Mammoth – Atomic Mountain

Ektro Records, 2007

I don’t care if you’re a pop fan who likes coordinated dance moves and electro-falsetto effects, this album art has to draw you in.  A skull with ram horns, lightning bolts, and what looks to be some kind of World War I helmet is impressive by itself, but check out that band logo.  It has to mean guitar shredding and vocal wailing lies within.  I, uh, even dig the colors of orange, light brown and black.  That reminds me of Halloween YEAH!  Okay, so the three Finnish guys on the inside booklet look like they’re making a mockery of their band photos by posing like goofballs, but that can’t be enough of a deterrent from picking up this record.  This disc has to roar.

As much as the cover looks like this is going to be some kind of Motorhead at light speed, it is not an accurate representation of the band’s sound.  Steel Mammoth may be confident in their artistic choices of rock ‘n roll visages, but they end up hiding behind the amps and guitars with their music level.  “Black Team” does start off rather well, though it isn’t anywhere near the heavy metal I expected.  Instead, the songs reminds me of Steppenwolf and that “Magic Carpet Ride” song … which is a good song, sure, but it’s more of a jam than an exultant rocker.  Initially I waved it off as just a slow, safe start for Steel Mammoth.

“Heart of Bone” has a great squealing guitar amidst its sense of despair, and the chorus of “Barbarian lords, we ride alone/until we’re just a pile of bones” is an excellent mantra for barbarian dudes who can’t be bothered with those wenches and their emotional demands.  Unfortunately, after this one the songs get disappointing fast.  A song like “Blackout Leather” screams nitro shredding or at least some kind of howling.  Instead, it jollies along at mid-tempo with some very fey vocals by some guys named Garfield Steel and Juicyifer (nope, not the band Jucifer … well, that’d be confusing anyway).  Lemmy would even have a hard time making this a powerfully sounding rock effort, for despite moments of volume during the chorus the entire song goes on too long with a limp.

“Commando Leopard” sounds like it could be another flaming hammer to your skull if you heard it … and behold, it is!  But not in a great way at all, for the band sort of drones on for nearly three minutes before the noise sets in.  That’s right, for about nine minutes they just turn to a kind of space out music that would probably be the soundtrack to one’s time spent in a dungeon.  Strange echoes, rumblings, and what sounds like the crumpling of paper.  I guess they sort of gave up at this point.

If “Riders of Death” didn’t start off with some kind of riff that could hold one’s attention for at least ten seconds, this review was going to be over.  Thankfully, the guitar intro was somewhat interesting even if the rest of the song just sort of repeated it while dabbling with some high-pitched twanging by a second guitar.  The deeper chanting during the chorus is probably the best metal impression one is going to get from this record, which at least shows they could pull it off.  It’s too bad that, yet again, “Riders of Death” goes on too long for little reward.

You can hear a few tunes at MySpace or at Ektro Records if you wish, though make sure you don’t accidentally knock over your latte when snapping your fingers.

I had such high hopes for this record and the metal that it should have brought that I waited to listen to it for the right time.  I expected to drive everyone away within a mile radius due to the volume that would come out of my speakers.  Instead, it’s a rock ‘n roll album that people wouldn’t want to necessarily get out of their arm chairs to break a beer bottle for.  Whoever created that horned skull on the album cover should just sign up to craft Motorhead’s or Mastodon’s upcoming album and let Steel Mammoth mimic a Journey album cover for their next record.  Rock ‘n roll indeed.

So, despite a few decent songs, I’m labeling this one a bust.  It should have been better.  Since this is their debut record, there is certainly hope that Steel Mammoth has moved on from the lightweight rock to a stronger dose in later albums.  Listening to a few tunes on their MySpace page, the only one that stands out as something improved is “Nerheim War Cry”, which is a pretty good metal song.  If they record more of those, they can keep putting skulls on their album covers.  If not, perhaps an illustration of a plushy gray elephant is a better representation of what Steel Mammoth really represent.

Spider Cunts – Stuck Up -N- Mean

Beer City Records, 2000

I couldn’t resist.  Sifting through yet another dollar bin I came across a band name that consisted of two words I thought I would never see together.  Spider Cunts.  Did the group members sit around one day and think about how spiders had sex, and then thought well, what about spider reproductive organs?  Let’s name ourselves after one of those?  No idea.  Since the four ladies of the band looked content (not angry, not vengeful) on the back cover photo I figured they were either holding something back or just wanted to get my attention with their band name (er, success!).  What amazed me after buying the disc was that when I looked the group up, they didn’t have a single review on allmusic.com or rateyourmusic.com.  I deemed that a travesty, so these next few paragraphs needed to be written.

Spider Cunts don’t get cute with the type of music they play, for a Beer City band should sound like they’re in-your-face rock and roll and, indeed, they are.  With songs like “Punch You in the Neck!” and “60 Stitches in 6 Weeks”, it’s immediately apparent this ain’t no pop band.  The first track of “Rage” is pretty much what the rest of the album sounds like with its chugging bass and simply chorded guitar.  As the song picks up into a sort of punk/hardcore hybrid, vocalist Amyl Nitrate shouts out about how angry she is.  Not she needed to explain herself, for the following songs of “Hey!” and “Scream 4″ pretty much sound the same way both musically and lyrically.  You get the message about Spider Cunts immediately.

Unfortunately, even the songs that have more engaging (re: amusing) lyrics don’t separate themselves from the angrier songs.  “7 A.M. Love Affair”, a tune about two drunk people skipping the whole dating phase, is just more shouting.  “Brooklyn Lager” is the band’s tribute to their favorite brew, which is probably a better choice to screech about than Corona with lime or Stella Artois.  Of course, besides the lyrics the song sounds just like “Closed Deli Breakup”, “Boys With Morals 2000″ and “Liquor, Heavy N Hard”.  In fact, if one stripped the vocals from every track I bet at least half of the songs are composed the exact same way.  Unfortunately there’s just nothing to distinguish each song from each other as they all mostly conclude in less than two minutes and the entire thing shoves you out the door in less than thirty minutes.  For a debut record I suppose such urgency to just get it all recorded without a nod towards variety is somewhat understandable given a new band’s excitement.  But given that one song is enough of an idea of how the whole record sounds, there’s really not much of a need to spin the whole thing through that often.

Spider Cunts can be heard on Last.fm, sure, but the live video is what you should see.

As excited as I was to see an all girl band named Spider Cunts, I just can’t say that this album lived up to my hopes of rock ‘n roll brilliance.  I guess I wished too hard for hooks and repeat spins, when all it really sounds like to me is a clumsily organized hardcore effort.  Perhaps if I had seen them live I’d appreciate their choice of music more, because I imagine the animated set would have made the band more impressive than the sound off of this disc.  As it stands, it comes across as boring regardless of some of the slick song titles.

Regardless of what I think of their music these days,Spider Cunts certainly could have been bigger during the early nineties when Hole, Sleater-Kinney, Bikini Kill and other grrrlish bands were popular.  But they came out in 2000, so nearly a decade after the movement was in its prime Spider Cunts had a go of it to see if anything was left.  As it turns out, they only put out one record … so I guess that answers that about the grrl movement of 2000.  By the way, looking further into the liner notes apparently Amyl Nitrate got knifed in the face by some guy named Thomas “Ducky” French and he was on the run.  It may be twelve years on, but I hope they got that Ducky guy.  He probably turned himself in eventually, for having a group named Spider Cunts after you likely isn’t good for your health now or later.

Lil Jon & the East Side Boyz – Crunk Juice

TVT Records, 2005

Sometimes I look at an album that I bought some time ago and think “Why did I buy this?”.  I suppose I had wondered if Lil Jon could actually carry an album.  All I know about him is that he likes to yell out “Yeah!”, “What!”, and “Okay!” on the various songs that he cameos on for other artists.  Perhaps that’s all he says on his own songs, so I could have been terribly curious as to how this would go when I picked this record up.  I also saw one heck of a party on that front cover.  Okay, the East Side Boyz look a little pathetic and the girls, well, they give off the air of being bored.  But look at Lil Jon!  That guy is an animal!  He doesn’t even want to finish his crunk juice as he pours it on the stage (Yeeeeaaayuhh!).  It’s coming back to me now.  I want in on this party.

The “Crunk Juice Intro” claims that this is going to be most incredible experience I’ve ever felt in my life.  I should also sit back, smoke a blunt, and turn the volume way up.  With the terribly echoed vocal effects and stumbling production, I had my doubts of whether or not I should believe the East Side Boyz on this one.  “What U Gon’ Do” starts this self-proclaimed incredible experience with those heavy bass thumps that have to sound great with the car windows open.  As for the lyrical content, ah, I have no idea what is going on.  Apparently if my hos are acting up in a club and I step up to them, they don’t do sh*t.  Yeah!   What!  And if the bitches don’t … oh, you get the idea.  Essentially, make sure the ladies and you are on the same page about your feelings for each other otherwise there could be disillusionment.

“Get Crunk” shows that Lil Jon, who happens to also be the producer for this album, likes to constantly repeat words and lyrics in close proximity.  Whoever the drugged up East Side Boy is that begins the song ends up sounding like he has a stutter thanks to the constant mixing and repeating of his words.  The same thing happens on “White Meat”, which again portrays one of the East Side Boyz as a stuttering spliff-dangling amateur that is neither engaging nor revolutionary.  The only noticeable part of the song is Lil Jon’s bludgeoning delivery on the chorus, which has him railing against his fellow club goers.  It’s no wonder he’s more known for his cameos than his rapping, for his voice is atrociously guttural.  If one wanted to frighten children with a voice that sometimes is manipulated to sound even deeper than it is, thus resembling a certain demon, throw some Lil Jon on.  He’s got that charm.

For the rest of these songs, “Lovers & Friends” attempts to be the slow jam except for that very distracting repetitiveness that Lil Jon keeps doing.  Totally ruins whatever mood was attempted.  I was amused at the practicality of the vocalist when, during his portrayal of a love making session, he offers his girl a pillow to bite.  What a conscientious gentleman!  There’s also “Real N*gga Roll Call” which lays out the rules as to who is real and who isn’t real.  What do people do when they listen to this song and determine that they’re one of the unreal ones?  Where do you go?  I wouldn’t go anywhere near Lil Jon and this East Side Boyz, that’s for sure.  I would leave town.  When Ludacris and R. Kelly show up on “In Da Club”, I’m only mildly disappointed that it isn’t a 50 Cent cover.  Well, there goes any possibility of meager redeeming value for this record.

Lil Jon and his crunkin’ can be found on his website and MySpace, but you probably have better things to listen to anyway.

Alright, honestly, why would anyone listen to this crap?  There are so many better crunk artists, never mind hip hop artists, out there.  And forget the lyrics, there are even better drum ‘n bass artists out there!  Who needs Lil Jon and his hack producing skills?  Those weak beats?  Those annoying East Side Boyz?  This album is garbage and a waste of plastic.  To think that Allmusic.com has labeled this record Lil Jon’s best is just unbelievable.  There is absolutely no reason to go listen to his other records if this one is considered one of his best.  Yeesh.  Oh yeah, this is some serious Golden Trash Can material.  What!

Stereophonics – Performance and Cocktails

V2 Records, 1999

I was excited to get this record at a serious discount because I had enjoyed a few strong tracks from the Stereophonics’ 2005 record “Language. Sex. Violence. Other?”.  You know me, I like the rock ‘n roll.  Therefore, with these British lads I figured if they sounded great in 2005, they must’ve sounded either tougher or more freewheeling back in the late nineties.  Plus, that expression on the lady’s face on the cover is quite amusing.  It looks like she’s undead and this guy is about to get a serious face-sucking surprise pretty soon.  The Bon Jovi lookalike in the background has no idea what is about to go down as he laughs at his own joke of “Hey buddy, we’re both wearing jean jackets!”.  In conclusion, so far this album looks like it contains rock, humor, and zombie chicks, so its possession was necessary!

The Stereophonics originate from Britain during that Brit rock era with Oasis, Blur, Pulp and the like.  Thankfully the group doesn’t bother with anything too cheeky as “Roll Up and Shine” blares out with more rock ‘n roll than any of those aforementioned groups.  Kelly Jones’ raspy vocals and the strong presence of guitar and bass make the song a fine introduction for the album.  “The Bartender and the Thief” turns the volume knob even louder to complete a powerful 1-2 rock shot that quickly sets the listener up for what is coming for the rest of the album.  Rock ‘n roll all the way, right?

Nope.  The songs come to a sudden halt with the pensive, soft strummer of “Hurry Up and Wait”.  Now, I understand the switch over to something a little slower because too much of the same thing can sound monotonous, but the song reveals quite a bit about the group.  For one, they aren’t content with one level of music.  As “Hurry Up and Wait” reveals, the Stereophonics also want you to think about love and waiting for the right person it seems.  That’s nice, thanks.

“Pick a Part That’s New” picks up a little bit as a pop ditty, whereas “Just Looking” dabbles with hot and cold flashes of quiet guitar strumming and blasts of repetitive chorus.  Hey, where is this consistent rock ‘n roll that the first two tracks promised?  “Half the Lies You Tell Ain’t True” tries to revive the comatose, but the group just can’t seem to decide on where they want to stick in terms of momentum.  None of the later songs on the disc remedy this confused indecision.

I understand that some people like the variety of tempos, lulls, and emotional moments, but I don’t think the Stereophonics do that well either.  Most of the hooks during the livelier songs aren’t luring enough while the music choices on the slower ones sometimes make the songs feel a little too long.  Jones’ vocals, initially interesting, are limited in their range and creativity, which makes the softer tracks sound a bit thin.  When “She Takes Her Clothes Off” and “Plastic California” meander in, get going, and conclude as usual, it becomes apparent that the Stereophonics fit the rock ‘n roll mold as merely a group that sounds loud at times but doesn’t put a whole lot of effort into being unique.  You’ve heard them before about four to five years earlier, in fact.

The band has plenty to see and do on their website, but as always MySpace and Last.fm have a few tunes you can listen to.

I’m calling this a Bust because I expected more out of the Stereophonics.  I thought the songs would be consistently more edgy or original, but they sound like a slightly more modern version (at the time) of many nineties rock bands.  Perhaps that’s why I just get this feeling that the record, despite its volume and perceived energy level, is ultimately quite dull.  I don’t think I’d ever put this album on over something a lot more interesting with its rock like Dinosaur Jr, Built to Spill, or even the Strokes.  Maybe the group’s record from 2005 was the band’s new sound that interested me, but this album from the early days lacks character and long term draw.  The group is still chugging along so don’t let a disappointed reviewer’s opinion of a decade-old album sway you from checking them out.  Just don’t start with this album.