Danava have always been able to separate themselves from other Iommi-inspired retro rockers by infusing an unabashed weirdness into all that they do. Hemisphere of Shadows, the Portland band’s third full length and first since 2008′s UnonoU, is no exception, and, in fact, the addition of a second guitarist (Andrew Forgash) means the blitzkrieg of riffs are now twined-out to inflict a maximum assault of strange. With a much shorter run-time than previous albums and a decidedly tighter focus, Hemisphere of Shadows finds Danava reigning in their druggy psych-metal jams without strangling them, and without stripping them of their cosmic, downer, prog, and occult flourishes. Danava seem to be so on point here that there’s no way they didn’t record this album at Stonehenge one white hot and foggy night, and with songs like “Shoot Straight With a Crooked Gun,” “The Last Goodbye,” “I Am the Skull,” and “The Illusion Crawls” (featured earlier this year on a split with Lecherous Gaze and Earthless) galloping around like Ichabod Crane in an Iron Claw t-shirt, Hemisphere of Shadows will find all kinds of favour with fans of ’70s freak n’ roll and fuzzy good times.
Sometimes you come across a band too big for their platform boots, a gang of cigarette suckers with stars for eyes who’ll turn any storage closet in any bar into their own personal dressing room. The singer’s got a $150 scarf wrapped around his neck even though he looks like he can’t afford to eat. He’s all ribs, eyeliner, and petulant posturing while his band plays the dutiful, leather-jacketed longhairs, masters of their bloozy craft. The Nuclears are that band. Or they fucking sound like it, anyway. And while there’s no doubt that this New York-by-way-of-Washington band’s sound drips with elements of a champagne n’ limousine glam rock, it’s the raw power and punk rock attitude that really propels this self-titled debut, making it a drunken, desperate mess of rock n’ roll energy. Flat out, this album sizzles the second it drops, it’s first half a shakin’ jukebox of ragged riffs and shout-along glory; there’s not a song amongst “Pay Yer Dues,” “Get Me Outta Here,” “A Blindfold & A Cigarette,” “Get Up!,” and “Tanzen Macht Frei” that hasn’t been touched by a handful of essentially influential bands like The Ramones, The Stooges, early Aerosmith, and Hanoi Rocks. Now, the train could’ve kept a-rollin’ right along and everything would’ve been super fine, but the album’s second half goes off the tracks a bit thanks to a grouping of songs whose styles and sounds are all over the map. There’s not a bad song in the bunch, per se, but they don’t deliver the same flow and punch as the first-half songs; the near seven minute “Eclipso” has shades of Black Sabbath (particularly “Children of the Grave”) running throughout, “Fast Cars & Loud Guitars” and “Rock & Roll Riot” (both of which would’ve been totally at home on the first half) are gutter rock numbers that do The Dictators proud, “Turn On You” is an organ-fried gospel/soul song, and “You Can Make It” brings the Rolling Stones’ country n’ blues to life. Listen, all that second-half confusion aside, there’s something endearingly blue about The Nuclears, like a well-earned thigh bruise, and even though they’re not entirely new to the scene (ex-Drag Citizen singer Nick Vivid has some miles under him), they’re on the cusp of stumbling into a whole heap of hot action. And when that happens, brother, we’re gonna be dealing with one confident, bad-ass, braggadocios bunch.
Now, it’s not in my nature to quote press sheets or bios because they rarely contain anything helpful, but I’m gonna make an exception here for The Atomic Bitchwax’s fifth full-length album, The Local Fuzz, because the following sticking point is so strong and succinct, and sums up this effort in such a way that’s just about impossible to ignore: “a single, glorious 42-minute song that contains no less than 50 riffs back-to-back.” Now, I didn’t actually count all the riffs, but these New Jersey cosmic rockers ain’t ever lied to me before, and besides, the song is pretty damn glorious, so do yourself a favour and put away the abacus, let your ponytail out, and lose yourself in your musty, well-worn couch. TAB aren’t the first to write a one-song album, and probably won’t be the last, but it takes a certain amount of stamina to spend the better part of an hour rollin’ through a spacey jam, and you’ve got to have a hell of a lot of faith in your listeners not to get up from that couch to get a snack and never come back. That shouldn’t be a problem here, though, because they’ve been doing the former for years now, usually in much smaller doses, and the relentless attack of The Local Fuzz’s prog-laced groove will hold your attention like a flaming meteor shower (even when it slows down for a brief moment just over the halfway mark). You know, I thought TAB floated a little off track with 2009′s 4, but The Local Fuzz puts everything right again, no doubt about it, and that includes the naked fem-bot on the cover, who recalls the hot-bodied, big-tittied familiarity of covers past (I, II, 3, and the Spit Blood EP).
Check out a nine minute slice of “The Local Fuzz” from The Local Fuzz!
Danava
The Nuclears
The Atomic Bitchwax