Weedeater articulates the frustration and despair of being trapped in a mere body of nerves and bone with the modern rock version of the blues: Grinding doom.
A hot female singer (who can actually sing) is matched to guitars & programming, mostly mid-tempo, juggling real & synth drums. Martin Atkins produced.
Bright, clean leads soar like eagles over dark jungle chord progressions. Fuzzed vocals are shouted with the battlecry intensity of sex, death, and revolution.
A distinct and impassioned vocal now known as much for his work with Borknagar as his band, Vintersorg, our man turns in his cleanest, most precise record yet.
I own all the D.R.I. records (except that Full Speed Ahead travesty) as all good punkers should, but I certainly don’t need 37 covers of gurgled nonsense.
Tsunami Bomb pull off the “chick-fronted punkpop band” well, considering bands like Tilt, Dance Hall Crashers, and (early) No Doubt have done it so perfectly.
While Bad Seed spin-offs wither in their self-created pits of despair, they might wonder where the soul went. Barry Adamson has it, and he’s not giving it back.