With catchy hooks and displays of actual talent, this self-titled album reminds us all of what’s its like to be 16, with only lust and liquor on your mind.
Nine. That’s the number of producers on Decomposer. It helps emphasize their ability to seamlessly transfer from goofy and gross to soulful and serious.
Like the first time you were blown away by Wire, or confounded by Mark E. Smith’s lost-with-a-purpose ranting. The Lights are onto something substantial.
These modern metal veterans haven’t gotten the exposure they deserve, writing an exotic blend of Latin rhythms, guitar textures, and post-Seps metal riffery.
“Civil Salvage” starts in with a replicated gypsy tinge, followed by the dark 16 Horsepower vaudeville country of “Death On The Sickbed” and “Culture of Prey.”
Not my fave fuzzy garage unit. Any NYC hipster oughtta dig into Bad Afro’s roster and realize what posers they are, but ya can’t teach those trendies anything.
German powerhouse Caliban does the whole metalcore meets the NWOSDM (New Wave of Swedish Death Metal) thing well. For a debut full-length, this is really good.