It’s hard to imagine that the Tokyo Dragons, in their brief, two-album career, could have influenced anybody, but here come fellow UK’ers Black Spiders, swingin’ their hot nuts and givin’ me the fear like the Dragons used to do. Of course, it might make more sense to compare the Spiders’ explosive, hi-top arena rock to bands like KISS, AC/DC, and Motörhead (all of whom the band have referenced in their music by way of lyrics or cover songs), and I wouldn’t be surprised to find out there’s a Soundgarden, Circus of Power, and Four Horsemen freak in their ranks too, but you know what I’m getting at here: this is music for keg parties, biker rallies, or any event where a hot tub and cocaine are present. Sons of the North is the band’s first full-length after a steady diet of EPs for the last two plus years (The St. Peter EP, Cinco Hombres [Diez Cojones], and No Goats in the Omen) and thumps its chest so loud and proud it bruises the heart deep inside. Old fans of the band will notice some familiar bite in the previously released songs “Stay Down,” “Just Like a Woman,” and “St. Peter”, but the way the album seamlessly weaves eye-lined sleaze rock excitement (“KISS Tried to Kill Me,” “Easy Peasy,” “What Good’s a Rock Without a Roll?”) with bearded stoner rock bullying (“Blood of the Kings,” “Man’s Ruin,” “Si, El Diablo”) is a mouthful of deliciously bloody meat you’ll want to feast on for a long time to come. Pull this one out at the next hot tub biker keg party rally you attend and you’ll find yourself fighting and fucking the night away, guaranteed.
Check out the video for “Just Like a Woman” from Sons of the North (even though this video was shot when they released the song on No Goats in the Omen)!
First, I want to apologize for the lack of posts lately. The laptop has been suffering some major issues and so I’ve been without a full-time computer for about a week now, but a new one has been procured, so we should be getting back on track here real soon. I’ve got plenty of new stuff to throw your way. Anyway, I manged to watch some movies during all that non-computer time, so here you go…
Frozen
The idea behind Frozen, the 2010 horror movie about three skiers stuck on a chair lift high above a mountain side, kind of reminds me of the old Mitch Hedberg joke about the above-ground swimming pool commercial, and how it can only be 30 seconds long because that’s the most amount of time you can depict having fun in an above-ground swimming pool. I didn’t think it would be possible to squeeze a whole movie’s worth of scares out of such an above-ground premise (and it wasn’t, really), but Frozen does manage to push your anxiety meter well into the red simply because it thrives on a totally reasonable, palpable fear. That being said, it’s not hard to predict what lies ahead for our stranded skiers (i.e. finding a way down, frostbite, etc.), who don’t seem to be taking their survival very seriously (do up your coat, idiot!), and you have to be able to handle the kind of dialogue that evolves from a stranded situation, such as blaming, arguing, crying, and reminiscing. However, the circling, hungry wolves were an excellent touch.
I don’t know if Gozu got their name from the bizarro Japanese film or not but I’m just gonna go ahead and assume they did because it makes ‘em that much better, brother. Grand theater of perversion and fear? You better believe it. Some of the song titles on Locust Season, their Small Stone debut, read like a ransom note cut from a 1980s TV Guide (“Regal Beagle,” “Kam Fong As Chin Ho,” and “Jan-Michael Vincent”) while some could be contents found in any serial killer’s tickle trunk (“Meth Cowboy,” “Jamaican Luau,” and “Meat Charger”). They might as well be singing about Yakuza attack dogs or bottles of breast milk or a soup ladle up the ass is what I’m getting at here, man, and with the lo-desert chicanery blasting away behind it all, I feel like all four walls are closing in on me fast and hard. The whole damn deal is raw, reeks of rancid rubber, and is as rough n’ tumble as a Boston bar brawl. Imagine a heavier Queens of the Stone Age with the sun-kissed flavour of Fu Manchu, the motorcycle madness of Valis, and the time traveling blues of Orange Goblin, and you’ve got yourself the gonzo glory of Gozu. A dope album in every sense of the word.
Black Spiders
Frozen
Gozu