Newspaper Page Text
Christopher Benton
r~
r'Si
WHO: Harvey Milk, Torche
(Presented by Chunklefi
WHERE. 40 Watt Club
WHEN: Saturday, Aug. 1
HOW MUCH: $10
12 FLAGPOLE.COM,; JULY 29,2009 H|i
eads ain't ready, cause Torche (pro
nounced "Torch") is coming back to
town with local faves Harvey Milk.
Here's the advance notice: ever since Torche
started playing monstrous power-sludge riffs
out of Orange stacks in some Miami hole-in-
the-wall, press from the most extreme little-
known zines to the dead-as-nails monoliths of
Spin, etc., have stacked praise on the (former)
quintet, whose work ethic apparently parallels
their stoner-metal tag.
"With Meiinderthal, we just wanted to do
a rock record, but some of those songs were
rushed, and we just had to finish them in
the studio because we're all slackers. I mean,
with the first record (Torche), we were only a
band for three months before we recorded it,
so that one was really rushed," Steve Brooks,
guitarist and lead singer for the gjoup, says.
Flagpole caught up with Brooks (en route
to Indianapolis and recently back from Europe,
where Torche played with the likes of Mogwai,
Mastodon, Isis and Coalesce) who mostly
laughed and charmed his way through the
interview. Like that one kid who never went to
class but always messed up the curve, Torche
is one of the most impressive groups of slack
ers to come around in a minute, and now
the band members rep ATL, so they're kinda
local. Excavated from the dilapidated scaf
folding of Brooks' former band Floor, Torche
keeps with the bone-crunch riff concision
of those bros while.reshaping the motif into
something a little harder to categorize. One
of the top releases of '08, Torche's second LP,
Neanderthal, is the sound of trying to push a
Mack truck through a colander—distilling a
whole lotta metal into something, well, radio
friendly.
Let's deconstruct a little. Torche's songs are
short and get to business quickly, before end
ing abruptly. You can call it vertical compres
sion or a narcissistic chode, but that's not to
say it's unsatisfying for both parties—Torche
just knows where the sweet spot is and how to
hit it and run. Really, Torche pantomimes its
way through familiar metal textures and then
rearranges (and subverts) them into verse-
chorus-verse three-minute headbangers with
sing-along hooks. Anthemic probably describes
the band best, although it is duly heavy, too.
If Melvins covered Foo Fighters and had Michel
Gondry conceptualize a music video, then it
would just be of Torche holding jackhammers
behind a green screen of Takashi Murakami
hentai. I don't know if that makes sense, but
if you were listening to Meanderthal, it should.
Torche is kind of a gateway drug to music
of the down-tuned, metallic and heavy vari
ety; and with a metal group this accessible,
it's bound to get hated on by purists and old
heads. But as Scion becomes synonymous with
subculture (subsuming culture, natch), swag
and schwag caught between car cracks too
tight for fingers to reach, its recent free "Rock
Fest" in Atlanta makes an argument for the
Torche as metal act argument—I mean, surely
being sandwiched on the main outdoor stage
between other (crossover) Georgia metal dudes
(plus girl) Kylesa and Baroness means some
thing. Torche has been called doom and stoner
metal; and there's this term, "sludge-pop,"
that's been bandied about that Brooks appears
very happy to dismiss. Altogether, Brooks
seems unconvinced by such labels, and is the
second metal act in recent memory to tell me
they weren't a metal act: "I don't consider us
a metal band. I never did. I like heavy stuff
but I'm not really a metal head either... We're
just a rock band. Everyone throws in the pop
thing because the tunes are catchy. I consider
us a rock band. The labels are funny—it's the
record labels that are making these descrip
tions. We do what we want."
Either way, Torche slays, but a recent
reconfiguration has threatened the whole
Torche enterprise. At the end of '08, the band
let go of guitarist and founding member Juan
Montoya. Rumors point to creative differences
and a fistfight during a sound check, but
Brooks won't say. Regardless, the group is now
a permanent three-piece, and here's the offi
cial statement on the matter:
"All I have to say is that it's a personal
thing and a professional thing. We were not
all on the same page. He thinks one way, and
the rest of us think another way, and it just
wasn't going to work out if we continued.
It's all for the best. I look forward to what he
comes up with, with other people. I just hope
he can work well with them. But the rest of
us, man, that dark cloud that was making us
unhappy is gone. We're having a good time
now," Brooks says.
Brendon Small, creator of Metalocolypse,
recently said in an interview: "If you're an
investor in some genre of music, I'd say metal
is a good bet." And in a world where Mastodon
just made a pop album that gets MTV2 airplay
and Deathklok got a Billboard top 20 debut,
I'd agree, but with one caveat—if there really
is an impending crossover, I'd put all my
money on Torche. Be a smart investor and put
your money down to check 'em out at the 40
Watt.
BOREDOMS
Super Roots 10
Commons
I hold anything by Boredoms—
specifically anything they made
after 1998—as purely and wholly
necessary: perfect laugh-along and/
or squirm-under-the-exquisite-gravity
Expando Mindfuck Music. Releases
are often masturbatory, insularly self-
referential, formally screwed and most
require utmost listener-patience. The
vast rewards, though, are always worth
it, as the art itself is perpetually aimed
over your standard-issue angry/tender/
confessional/paranoid “rock music"
dynamics toward something elevated,
holy and experientially transcendental.
They've somehow made the authentic
air and feel of Ritual an available and
portable privilege, and this is big news
in dead hermetic times like these, Billy.
Super Roots 70 is no exception,
and everything about it is emblematic
of these rarified qualities: it's the
ninth installment of their decades-old
Super Roots EP project, and was
sold on one website for all of an hour
before it was out-of-print. It consists
of one original track called “Ant 10,"
and four guest-DJ remixes, one of
which just may be a pseudonym of
resident genius/honcho Eye. It is
also a continuation of the monolithic
protocol established by 2001 's Vision
Creation Newsunand continued hence:
an ocean-sized and umpteen-voiced
percussion-swell pushes beautiful and
erratic melodic ideas to the point of
ecstatic explosion; everything erupts,
releases, builds again to an orgiastic
head-spinning trance-point, erupts,
subsides and begins again. Sounds,
of course, are heavy and huge and of
every coloration—organic as a human
voice, satisfying as a punk guitar, alien
as a computer blip. Here, the purveying
sense of beat is akin to house-music;
a strange harpsichord holds dominion,
and, everything, of course, is perfect.
Jim McHugh
THE BEGGARS' QUO
...It Only Gets Better from Here
Favorite Gentlemen
The Beggars’ Guild's greatest
strength turns out to be its primary
liability on the band's new album ...It
Only Gels Better from Here. It’s acces
sible and catchy, but to a fault, and
it all sounds like something you’ve
heard before. Sure, there are few new
tricks when it comes to straightforward
Americana-influenced Tock and roll,
but bandleader T.J. Edmond's songs
could use a little more personality and
idiosyncrasy. There’s nothing wrong
with writing a hard-luck, hard-times
Springsteen tune like album opener
“Only Gets Better, - but when all a song
does is suggest past mastery without
adding much of its own, it makes the
jump from accessible to anonymous.
Edmond, a South Carolina native
now living in Atlanta, also owes a
heavy debt to Tom Petty, whose shadow
looms large over the rest of the disc.
Edmond also has a tendency to slip
into a mid-'90s, clenched-throat sing
ing style; if anyone's been clamoring
for a grittier Counting Crows, they’d do
well to check out The Beggars' Guild.
Recorded in seven different studios,
...It Only Gets Better from Here has
trouble focusing. While the band never
departs from well-established American
rock and roll templates, a little brev
ity would go a long way. Had it been
played at a faster tempo, the plodding
“Yours and Mine' could’ve been an
engaging, CCR-style pop song. Songs
like “Feet on the Ground" or “Wait for
It” would work better cut off around the
three-minute mark, rather than wearing
out their welcome with superfluous •
returns to generic choruses.
Performed live, these songs
. could be rip-roaring rockers, veering
between ferocious guitar solos and
more hushed moments when Edmond's
vocals take over. But on this recording,
the tunes come across as restrained
and indistinct, a little too careful and
staid. More risks, guys, more chances!
Chris Hassiotis
The Beggars' Guild is playing at the
40 Watt Club on Thursday. July 30.
BLACK MOTH
SUPER RAINBOW
Eating Us
Graveface
Eating Us marks the fourth full-
length release from Pennsylvania
natives Black Moth Super Rainbow.
This record is chock full of psyche
delic, candy-coated, electronic pop that
immediately permeates the brain and
remains there indefinitely. Following
up experimental post-rock invention
Dandelion Gum (2006), BMSR has
added even more layers to its already
complex and lush orchestration. It's
evident on Eating Us that the band has
opted for a more polished sound rather
than the lo-fi basement tape recordings
of previous works. To do this, BMSR
enlisted the help of producer Dave
Fridmann (The Flaming Lips, MGMT,
Weezer), who suitably juxtaposed live
instrumentation with the band's notori
ously electronic/synth-filled sound.
BMSR still utilizes what must be
its favorite instrument throughout the
album, the vocoder. There's so much
vocoder on this album that it wouldn’t
be surprising if T-Pain's name came up
under a similar artist search. Luckily,
the songs are constructed in such a
way that the vocals are actually the
least noticeable thing on the album,
sounding at times like instruments
themselves. The opening track. “Born
on a Day the Sun Didn't Rise," is one
of the catchiest, most hook-laden
songs on the album. “Twin of Myself"
is perhaps the best song on Eating
Us. as Rhodes’ piano and synths
come together to make a whirlpool of
melody that transforms the darkest
day into a sunshine-filled basket of
lollipops—it's that damn dreamy! But
songs like “American Face Dust" and
“Dark Bubbles" are more reminiscent
of the melancholy yet spacey odes of
Grandaddy. Sometimes creepy, but
mostly sweet, the latest offering from
BMSR is just plain good, and even the
“vocoderization" of all the lyrics doesn't
get old. All in all, Eating Us is one of
the best releases of the year sc far
Charley Lee
Black Moth Super Rainbow is play
ing at the Drunken Unicorn in Atlanta
on Wednesday. July 29.
ASHER ROTH
Asleep in the Bread Aisle
SRC/Universal Motown
I really don't know what to think
about Asher Roth. My gut reaction
is to run kicking and screaming. I
remember the first time I heard his big
hit, “I Love College"—a sophomoric
and borderline inane homage to being
a douchebag—I literally felt sick to my
stomach I'm used to music glorifying
drugs and alcohol, indiscriminate sex
or even abject violence, not beer pong
However, I admit«was curious about
the other songs on Roth's debut record,
Asleep in the Bread Aisle, and after
giving the album a thorough listening,
I now can't help but admit that I sort of
like the guy.
Roth has a certain charm to him,
and his beats aren't half bad. As for his
flow, Eminem comparisons abound but,
to tiis credit. Roth recognizes this com
parison, and even names a song on
his album "As I Em." The thing about
Asher Roth is that the guy raps about
what he knows: white, middle-class
things like playing Mario Kart, eating
Cheetos and basically being ridiculous.
His lyrics are sometimes clever, often
embarrassingly average, but almost
always interesting On Lark on My Go
Kart." Roth sings: "Puffing on the best
cut bud tryna get butt from Ms. Muffet/
Me and Teddy Rockspins stirring up a
ruckus egging all the houses smashing
all the pumpkins.. .Ash Roth be the
King of the Blumpkins."
Roth may not share any life experi
ences with traditional dope-slinging
rappers, but he seems to do fine
enough rapping about what he knows.
And when your goal is to be “King of
the Blumpkins," well, maybe it's a little
easier to hit the mark. Overall, Roth's
debut album is surprisingly catchy,
and probably a good record to play
while you’re lying out at the pool this
summer.
john Seay