Red Fang
Murder the Mountains
Relapse

When the calender turns over, I like to look ahead at what albums are coming out, and one of ‘em, above all others, usually ends up in my sights. This year’s most anticipated release for me was Red Fang’s Murder the Mountains, simply because their 2009 self-titled full-length debut was a real rager and, two years later, its scuzz still won’t wash off. Well, Murder the Mountains is finally here, which means it’s time to peel the crust off the ol’ denim vest, unearth your favourite beer cozy, and lock in for a blazin’ good time, right? Well, unfortunately, this one’s not quite the same party Red Fang was, and it seems that the Portland, Oregon band, once capable of delivering killing blows with homemade warhammers and toasting victory with pints of mead, are now doing all they can just to hold their torn and tattered banner high as they march wearily on home. The crux of Murder the Mountains is its thicker density, the majority of the songs taking on a much sludgier vein (“Malverde,” “Throw Up,” “Number Thirteen,” “Into the Eye,” “The Undertow”), making the Melvins and Big Business obvious influences this time around. Because of that, however, the album kind of lumbers lazily along, and stoner metal stand-outs like “Hank is Dead,” “Dirt Wizard,” “Painted Parade,” and “Human Herd” can’t seem to gather any kind of epic momentum. And “Wires,” the album’s single and hook, an interesting mix of desert-pop, encapsulates the production work done by Chris Funk of The Decemberists and has a “Prehistoric Dog” vibe to it, but “Prehistoric Dog” it ain’t. Listen, Murder the Mountains isn’t bad, it’s just not amazing. I still believe mightily in Red Fang and their place alongside their metal contemporaries like Baroness, Torche, The Sword, Priestess, etc., but this one just didn’t live up to my own hype.

Listen to “Dirt Wizard” from Murder the Mountains!

Year-end, best-of lists are the worst. I’ve never read one I’ve agreed with. If they don’t make me mad as hell they make me question my own taste and judgment…for about three seconds. But man, do I ever hate those three seconds! Of course, the truth of it is it’s all arbitrary bullshit, nothing more than one-upsmanship (sic) spouted from the pedestal of holier than thou record collections by bearded twats just like me. Which brings me to my 2010 wrap-up, naturally. I urge you to take it for what it is, a cursory, but hopefully entertaining, glance at the most noteworthy aspects of the 105 albums I reviewed this year. And nothing more, except maybe your own three seconds of lame agony.

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Black Sleep of Kali
Our Slow Decay
Small Stone

Debut album from Denver’s Black Sleep of Kali, which, despite its name, is a furious force of sludge metal devilry that’s more whack-a-mole doom than it is a slumbering death crawl. And it’s no easy feat keeping up that kind of  eternal energy with an average run time of six minutes for the eight songs laid down here, but I suppose anything is possible when you’re drawing your annihilation inspiration from a dark and violent goddess. Right, so it all rolls heavily along like an avalanche of Baroness worship, but the sonic assault of Our Slow decay isn’t without its groovy riffs, hardcore fluctuations, and punk metal aesthetics either, which makes for a fairly dynamic, anarchic listen that will not only knock your walls down but will piss on your rug, too. Definitely a big-balled gut bucket of bubbling black action, this one.

Listen to “The Crow and The Snake” from Our Slow Decay!

Buy Black Sleep of Kali’s Our Slow Decay from Small Stone!