Brass Knuckle Evangelists No Sin No Soul
Self-Released
There are places all over the world where people much cooler than me — people who accessorize with ascots and fedoras instead of a beard — are having a Devil approved good time. They’re sippin’ bourbon and throwin’ dice in smoky rooms filled with ebony beauties and slick-grinned denizens. New York’s Brass Knuckle Evangelists play rooms just like these every night of their life, whether they’ve actually got a gig or not, and their woozy rock ‘n blooze is the midnight match for mischief’s fantastic fire. No Sin No Soul, the band’s debut five-song EP, oozes organ-fried righteousness and pulpit bravado, but the preachy Memphis soul of “Good Time (Ain’t No Crime),” “You’re The Devil,” “Work Me,” and “Up All Nite” are infused with a greasy, burnin’ rubber punch, no coincidence given the band’s sleaze rock roots (ex-members of Joker Five Speed). The EP’s final selection, a cover of Don Nix’s “Goin’ Down,” offers a gritty, city take on the well-traveled song also covered by such legends as Jeff Beck, Deep Purple, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Joe Satriani, and Gov’t Mule. No Sin No Soul ought to put an ultra-shine on your alligator shoes, especially if you’re into Beasts of Bourbon, The BellRays, The Booze, Chinatown, Diamond Dogs, The Dirtbombs, Izzy Stradlin’, or The Jim Jones Revue. I hope New York City is big enough for two goddamn savvy bands because Brass Knuckle Evangelists are giving The Compulsions some funky company.
When I first heard “The Devil’s Orchard” from Heritage, I knew immediately that Opeth’s tenth album was going to be different, was going to make a statement, was going to grab people’s attention, for better or worse. Yes, the Swedish progressive metal band has traveled a long way from Orchid‘s death/black metal roots, gradually emphasizing the progressive aspect more and more with each release, especially in recent years with Ghost Reveries and Watershed, but Heritage is the weirdest Opeth offering yet. Make of that word what you will, but with Heritage Opeth fans the world over can expect an album that’s devoid of growling vocals (Damnation it’s not, though), flushed with odd time signatures, accentuated with classical guitar flourishes, and bursting with a clean guitar tone that noodles through bluesy riffs bordering on a jazz-metal fusion. Sure, some of that’s familiar territory, but it’s never been delivered in such overwhelming doses and is sure to divide the ranks. It’s also worth noting that Per Wiberg’s organ is featured more prominently than ever before and the songs, which have an average length of about six minutes (not one of them breaking the ten minute mark), are quite short as far as Opeth songs go. It all adds up to one unusual and unforgettable Opeth experience (including the highly symbolic cover by longtime collaborator Travis Smith), one you might not warm up to if you’re looking for another My Arms, Your Hearse or Morningrise. However, if you’ve always loved what Mikael Åkerfeldt and company can do when they let their genius freak freely, if you’ve got a soft spot for their mellower stuff and have dug the direction the band’s been heading, Heritage might just win you over.
Blood Ceremony Living With the Ancients
Rise Above
It’s been three years since Toronto’s Blood Ceremony drew us into their sect of satyrs with their self-titled debut, binding us to dungeon walls until such a time our sacrifice was desired, and it seems that moment has indeed arrived. Sorcerers of retro ritual rock, Blood Ceremony lay down doom-powered riffs over top hellfire organ, but their weapon of choice is the dark mistress Alia O’Brien, whose mastery of voice and flute are the spells that bind and hypnotize. Like its predecessor, Living With the Ancients is a bone-carved chalice overflowing with the fog of a pagan prog potion, and where one ends with a hymn to Pan the other begins with another such ode to the great half-man, half-goat God, thus continuing the sacred bloodline of influence and imagery that courses through all they do. You’ll also find demons, witches, hermits, magicians, ancient Roman priests, and W. Somerset Maugham’s caricature of Aleister Crowley at this monster’s ball, a medieval European masquerade not unlike the pentagram parties thrown by The Devil’s Blood, Ghost, Year of the Goat, Witchcraft, and so on. So, go ahead, offer yourself up to Blood Ceremony’s wicked ways. You’ll be glad you did.
Brass Knuckle Evangelists
Opeth
Blood Ceremony