I prefer to review albums the year they are released in order not to appear dated, but sometimes albums find their way to me the following calendar year. I respect the effort (and, in some cases, money) bands put into sending me their music for review, so the least I can do is give them some blog time. Here’s a quick run through some music that was released in 2011, because it’s never too late…

Nordic Nomadic
Worldwide Skyline
Tee Pee

When Chad Ross of Toronto psychedelic rockers Quest for Fire decides to go solo, he does so as Nordic Nomadic, and his output (2007′s self-titled album and this one), while softly bathed in psychedelic waters, is not drenched in the kind of fuzz that soaks Quest for Fire’s body of work. Instead, Ross reverts, like a mystic on a mountaintop, to the natural order of things, his dreamy folk dictated by delicate finger picking that dances over haunting drone, distant distortion, and deep bass, his voice a spiritual messenger sent to soothe your soul.

Listen to “Growin’ Horns” from Worldwide Skyline!

Chest
MMXI EP
Self-Released

Roman numerals? Check. Skull wearing a crown? Check. Band name so good I can’t believe it’s never been taken? Check again. Yeah, I did all sorts of book cover judging with this four-song EP, making a barrel full o’ assumptions that the substance was going to match the style, and sure enough, it does. Chest’s MMXI EP is some bad-ass, bottomed out business, a feast of Finnish doom served at a rotting roundtable where the ghosts of Galahad and Gawain are scrounging up the sludgy scraps. It’s a thing of beauty when the eyes and ears work together, isn’t it?

Listen to “Seed of Chaos” from MMXI!

Palo Verde
Zero Hour
Phratry Records

Lauren K. Newman (drums) and Terrica Kleinknecht (guitar) originally began life as Stickitin, an experimental double drum duo (!), but must’ve decided that they could make a lot more sludgy noise if one of ‘em picked up a guitar, and thus Palo Verde was born. These Portland, Oregon (there it is again!) DIY females are as back-to-basic as they come, recording and self-releasing their own albums over the years out of their home studio, and have gigged in a million and one bands you and I have never heard of, a devotion no doubt laced with small traces of insanity. Which is why we get something like the unrehearsed four-song, 45 minute Zero Hour, completely unlikable in the best way possible, an unbearably raw, amplified beat down powered by corrosive, dying batteries. Apparently Palo Verde are best experienced live, but this album is certainly making an impression.

Listen to Zero Hour here!

Bring the Knife
Bring the Knife
Thrashachusetts Records

Bring the Knife is a Boston metal band whose self-titled debut 7″ fuses Anthrax thrash with C.O.C. crossover, tosses in a whole bunch of Wylde-esque squealing harmonics (courtesy of ex Glamorous Stuntcock axe wielder Pattie the Gimp), and delivers a barroom mosh madness that ought to have people betting on hardcore elbow thrusts like basketball games. Released on singer Duncan Wilder Johnson’s own Thrashachusetts Records label, Bring the Knife contains all kinds of treacherous bite, specifically Johnson’s socially conscious verbal attacks on “At the End of Days” and “I Walk Through Flames Every Hour to Feel Free” and the B-movie brain punch of “Werewolf Fuckdown” and “Viking Skull Thrust”.

Listen to “Werewolf Fuckdown” from Bring the Knife!

Infernal Overdrive
Last Rays of the Dying Sun
Small Stone

Discovering that Boston hero* Marc Schleicher has surfaced as the front man for New Jersey rock n’ road warriors Infernal Overdrive is one hell of an early Christmas present, my friends. Hell, I’m not sure I’d be here today if it wasn’t for Schleicher’s brawlin’ brand of East Coast riff n’ roll, so to hear him once again stranglin’ the six-string like a twenty dollar hooker is something special; a sure sign that the wheel of the American rawk machine is back in the grip of one of its most prolific drivers. Last Rays of the Dying Sun, the band’s full-length debut, is, quite simply, arena rock for dive bars, like KISS or Cheap Trick on a chain link tour through Southern wilds, and the way they saturate it with razor-backed hooks, sky high solos, nasty drum fills, and blacktop lingo (“I-95,” “Electric Street Cred,” “Rip It Out,” “Motor”) will lead a man to submit himself to a life of drinkin’, cheatin’, lyin’, and dyin’. Or, if you prefer, a life of glory. You know, I don’t think this one actually comes out until 2012, but either way, Small Stone has finished this year off — or started the next — on a definite high note.

*I’m not from Boston, but I have spent many years there vicariously through people much cooler than me, and I would be utterly shocked to find out that anyone who played in Cracktorch, Antler, and Quintain Americana isn’t a hero in that town.

Listen to “Rip It Out” from Last Rays of the Dying Sun!

Motherboar
The Beast Becomes the Servant
Born of Fire Records

It’s been about five years since their debut, Raising the Death Toll, so when I saw that Motherboar had finally released their sophomore album, The Beast Becomes the Servant, I said to myself, ‘Oh yeah, Motherboar, I forgot about them!’ I’m not sure what took the band so long to finally return to the fold (perhaps drummer Benny Grotto was holed up in his Mad Oak Studios the entire time fulfilling his role as the busiest producer/engineer heavy music has ever known), but I’m so glad the Boston band is back to their brutal ways. I once referred to their debut as the ‘kind of beautiful mess you’d end up with if you spent your summers growing up listening to Motörhead, Clutch, Ironlung, and Wino, kicking chickens, and picking things out of your beard,” and I suppose not much as changed other than the fact that there’s a lot more sludge to the band’s metal than I remember. It’s still awfully mighty, black and frantic, though, and leans heavy on the hardcore, so an updated reference list might include Mastodon, Black Breath, Doomriders, etc., but dig all the slick riffs and salacious solos in amongst the callous, calculated crust; you’ll be convinced these guys are hiding some kind of cock rock codpiece under their extreme, bloody, broken bottle exterior. The Beast Becomes the Servant was a long time coming, but delivers every bit the aggression, anarchy, and acridity you desire. Or I desire, anyway. I’m not sure what you’re into, but if it’s not this, you’re in trouble.

Check out the video for “Croctosquatch” from The Beast Becomes the Servant!