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!

Well, I guess we’ve finally reached that moment, but before I reveal my favourite song and album of the year, I do want to give out consolatory honours to some albums and songs that, had I been ranking things this year, would’ve been right up there at the top, competing for bearded glory. I’ve already mentioned Black Mountain’s Wilderness Heart, Sweet Apple’s Love & Desperation, Dirty Sweet’s American Spiritual, and The Kings of Frog Island’s III, all of which should be highlighted, but I want to add the following albums and songs into their company…

High On Fire’s Snakes for the Divine, The Sword’s Warp Riders, Year of No Light’s Ausserwelt, Agalloch’s Marrow of the Spirit, Tweak Bird’s Tweak Bird, Souvenir’s Young America’s The Name of the Snake, and The Adjusters’ Reckless Relations. Every single one of ‘em is highly recommended.

Shit, I don’t think I can stop there. Okay, let’s also add Night Horse’s Perdition Hymns, Alcest’s Écailles de lune, Dead Trooper’s Cynicist, Brother Dege’s Folksongs of the American Longhair, Trap Them’s Filth Rations, the Melvins’ The Bride Screamed Murder, Electric Wizard’s Black Masses, Torche’s Songs for Singles, Violent Soho’s Violent Soho, Daughters’ Daughters, and Year Long Disaster’s Black Magic; All Mysteries Revealed. I could probably keep going, but these stand-outs will have to do.

As for songs, there was Black Mountain’s “The Hair Song” and “Sadie,” and Sweet Apple’s “Do You Remember,” and “Flying Up a Mountain,” but there were two others I had a tendency to play over and over again all year long, and those were Against Me!’s “Spanish Moss” and The Sword’s “Night City.”

But now, let’s just get this damn year-end thing over with…

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The Best Beard of the Year

Despite the fact that he probably spent most of the year sportin’ an old-timey mustache, I’m giving beard of the year to Dirty Sweet singer, Ryan Koontz. I became enamored with Dirty Sweet this year after I heard their amazing sophomore album, American Spiritual, and kind of developed a man crush on Koontz thanks to this beard (my wife can vouch…I wouldn’t stop watching videos of him and his band in action). If we’re to judge his beard by this picture, it screams gnarly sophistication. Sometimes it’s okay to have a beard that makes you look like a serial rapist, but other times you want that 1800s professor of psychology look. With its prevalent chin and neck growth, distinguished wisps of grey, and droopy ‘stache, it’s a beard that says I teach radical theories by day and guzzle cognac and chase wenches by night.

Speaking of serial rapist beards, the best collection of beards in one band goes to Valient Thorr. I mean, who else, right? These guys are beard champions. The key to their success? A Complete lack of soap and lots of denim. And a nod to Blacktusk bassist Jonathan Athon for sheer length. He’s got one hell of a pavement tickler there.

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