CD REVIEWS ISSUE 6 Page 11
By Bob Nalbandian
ALABAMA THUNDERPUSSY
Staring At the Divine
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3.0 EYESFlat-out, "Ol' Unfaithful" ought to be a summer song of mammoth proportions for anyone who's ever hoisted a PBR, referred to themselves as a hessian or let out a rebel yell with their shirt off at midnight (and hey, that's girls too, as Mensclub will tell ya). It kick-starts Staring At the Divine in fine fashion, mainlining the unwary and paving the way for an album full of the meaty hooks and sweat-soaked Southern drama of the best latter-day COC tracks. Only ATP is only more genuine somehow, a little less immediately catchy, but more hefty and underground, with a sludge-veined integrity, a less tinkered-with studio experience - one senses the only "pro tools" involved here were bottle openers and hand rollers. Not every song packs the wallop of "Ol' Unfaithful"; if they did, we'd be looking at the next Led goddamn Zepplin here, but there are plenty of stomping stoner raveups, plus moodier bits like "Twilight Arrival" (think Tool with barbecue sauce on their faces) to enforce that moonlit, spooky swamp vibe. Closes with "Amounts That Count," a banjo-and-dobro-laced acoustic number that would make Johnny Cash tip his hat and smile. At their best, ATP exude the drunken, slightly dangerous, enticing vibe of the f**ked-up good ol' boy at the bar who's teetering on the line between buying you shots of whiskey all night or kicking the living bejesus out of you in the parking lot - and might just end up doing both before sunrise. Not safe and not all that pop, ATP's got the songs and the swagger to make what they do a religion for a legion of like-minded wild and woolly sumsabitches. (Keith Bergman)
ORIGIN
Informis Infinitas Inhumanitas
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3.5 EYESAsk and ye shall receive, eh? I bitched about the paper-thin production on the first record, and here comes Origin with a sophomore album that beats the debut to death with clubs and pisses on its remains. Vastly superior sound this time out, and the music ups the ante laid out by the whole speed-demon Krisiun/Hate Eternal camp, blistering in tempo and technique, but full of more interesting bits and start-stop dynamics than any three albums from the above mentioned! Not insanely technical in that time-change Dillinger math-metal way, but more in a percussive sense, where the drums buck and twist under fairly regulation riffs to create an atmosphere of barely controlled chaos and furious intensity. It never lets up, making for a bruising ride - even the breakdowns are almost ludicrously over-amped with double kick and finger-bleeding guitar triplets. If you're looking for breathing space, you're in the wrong record, Jack! Get hurt or get out, basically. If you're up for the ride, and you're up-to-date on your insurance premiums, then pick up your new favorite death metal record of 2002, at least in terms of sheer, uncompromising, robotically precise savagery. (Keith Bergman)
Shockwaves CD REVIEWS ISSUE 6 Page 12