In the modern musical landscape, just about everything seems to be known - all the time. Album releases are announced months in advance, and usually songs drip about once per month for about two or three months ahead of time. And bands that have been dormant for a while, usually announce a new release very early to build anticipation. And then there is Neurosis.
Neurosis have been a favorite of mine in the post-metal genre for quite some time - along with now retired Isis, to me, they have been the standard bearers for this brand of metal characterized by sludgy tempos, tribal rhythms, hypnotic patterns, and ambient passages. And screamed vocals - often mixed with clean vocals as well. But Neurosis had been quiet as a band since 2019, when they played their last concert, and their last album, Fires Within Fires, was released in 2016. In 2022, the band issued a statement following founding guitarist Scott Kelly’s admission of long time systematic abuse of his wife and his children. Their response revealed the character of the band, and I assumed they were done. This feeling was strengthened when drummer Jason Roeder announced retiring from touring and was selling off most of his equipment. I thought their body of work would speak for itself, and that we had seen the last of them.
Then we get to March 20 this year. I was looking at the release list for the day, with few interesting releases. Then I noticed it. Neurosis. An Undying Love For A Burning World. What was this? I hadn’t heard anything about Neurosis in a long time. And it turned out to be a new album. And not just that, without Scott Kelly, they had added Aaron Turner on guitar and screaming vocals. Aaron Turner of Isis (and Sumac and Mamiffer). I had to check this out. And I was blown away. An Undying Love For A Burning World opens with We Are Torn Wide Open, a song I only can describe as a shouted chant. And then Mirror Deep follows in crushing fashion. But they really kick into the tribal sludge on the third song, First Red Rays, which is just about a perfect post-metal song. Aaron Turner’s screams, Noah Landis’ ambient sections, and Steve Von Till’s haunting vocals are all present and held together by the glue created by bassist Dave Edwardson and the aforementioned drummer Jason Roeder.
To me, this was the album I didn’t know how much I needed. I think they have created a masterpiece, and I keep returning to it. Now, I know this isn’t for everyone, but it certainly is for me - and I hope you may like it as well!
It’s been about 10 years since I first shared the song Tribal Convictions by VoiVod, and it has only grown in stature with me since then. I love the tribal drum beat by only continuous member, Michel Langevin (or Away, as he is better known - and I just realized that another band where the drummer is the only continuous member is Deep Purple with Ian Paice, which makes for pretty good company), and when I saw that Voivod just released an album with the Quebec Symphony Orchestra, because of course they would, it was a great opportunity to bring the track back to life again.
And yes, I know what you are thinking: Metal and orchestral music don't work. And there are examples that are supporting that claim (Metallica's S&M are fun curiosities, but not really expanding on the original sound, maybe because Metallica's music already is highly orchestrated, especially from Master of Puppets and out, the Norwegian band TNT did something with Trondheim Symphony Orchestra for their 30th anniversary - it wasn’t bad, but it didn’t add all that much. Personally, I loved Deep Purple’s Concerto for Group and Orchestra, written by classically trained keyboardist Jon Lord, but it never got much of a critical acclaim.
However, there have been major exceptions - and to me, they mainly have come from the more avant garde metal bands, who by nature already have an approach to the music that really invites the sonic expansion that comes with an orchestra. I loved Triptykon’s Requiem Live At Roadburn. I love Amen Ra’s A Solitary Reign with Atomic Orchestra. And I love VoiVod’s Symphonique. VoiVod’s music is often angular and sparse - there aren’t the layers of guitar you can find on Metallica’s album - so the enhancement that an orchestra brings almost makes the initial recording sound like demos or sketches, as the orchestra really fills the sound. And they fill it with the sound of cosmic doom, perfectly fitting their world of sci fi horror. So enjoy the Tribal Convictions yet again - this time with Quebec Symphony Orchestra!
I don't know that I have hidden my attraction to odd and quirky music particularly well - it is indeed true. One of my favorite musicians is Les Claypool, bassist and singer in Primus - as well as a host of other side projects: Colonel Les Claypool's Fearless Flying Frog Brigade (their cover of Pink Floyd's Animals album is spectacular), Duo De Twang (Stayin' Alive never sounded more redneck), Oysterhead (with Stewart Copeland of Police fame and Trey Anastasio from Phish - all three of them are really institutions in themselves), and, finally (although this list is not extensive), The Claypool Lennon Delirium. Les Claypool is the unlikeliest of frontmen - he has a well-cultivated quirky look, often enhanced with costumes and masks, he has a nasal voice that for some is a very acquired taste, especially when singing, and if any bassist ever strutted around on stage, it is him. But it works. It works because of a history of being self-effacing (the chant of love for Primus fans is "Primus sucks"), a nerdy approach to both instrument and lyrics, and a genuine likability that you can't put a price tag on (check out Geddy Lee's Paramount show Bass Players Are Human Too - the episode with Les Claypool is fantastic and showcases a personality that is as free from artifice as you can get (unless I simply buy the hype and he has me completely fooled (and yes, I know that parentheses inside parentheses are not proper writing - but as long as I put enough closing parentheses, you know what I mean (thank you Excel for the many lessons in nested parentheses)))).
There is no accident that I was able to bring in Geddy Lee when I talk about Les Claypool. Claypool is a die-hard Rush fan, and Primus even went on tour playing Rush's seminal A Farewell To Kings album (part of a stretch of albums that really defined their career, starting with 2112 and to me running through Grace Under Pressure, although most Rush fans would probably end it with Moving Pictures) in its entirety. I can also recognize some of Lee's bass tone in Claypool's bass - when he plays it more traditionally. But Les Claypool isn't about tradition - he is about invention and pushing the instrument further. His combination of the funky slap style from the 70s and 80s, a chordal approach to his playing, and speed and agility on his runs (Wikipedia also suggests a flamenco influence) is completely his own. While John Entwistle may have played the bass as a solo instrument and Geddy Lee and John Paul Jones filled out a ton of space to support guitar work that sometimes was ethereal, Les Claypool combines that - but also finds a way to fill the sonic landscapes with lush cascades of runs, chords, and, yes, melody. And when he started out, nobody approached the bass even close to how he did.
In the mid 2010s, he paired up with Sean Ono Lennon and formed The Claypool Lennon Delirium, and their approach to what Lennon labeled "progadelica" fits Claypool's quirkiness and the ethereal tone of Lennon's voice. Their music ranges from songs sounding like Danny Elfman's The Nightmare Before Christmas (Troll Bait) to trippy prog (Boomerang Baby, South of Reality), to more straight up psychedelia (Amethyst Realm). They have released three albums: Monolith of Phobos (2016), South Of Reality (2019), and just recently, The Great Parrot-Ox And The Golden Egg Of Empathy, and I love all three of them. You can clearly hear Claypool's influence all over them, but it is equally clear that Lennon has his own musical vision here as well. He is a solid guitarist, but to me, it is the voice he brings - and a sense of melody that clearly harkens back to that very famous band from the 60s. But I will not dwell on his heritage here, because Sean Ono Lennon stands very competently on his own two feet. And paired up with Claypool, we get a combination of two great but distinctively different musical approaches, much like Pink Floyd had in Gilmour/Waters and that other band had in Lennon/McCartney. Here, Lennon has the melodic and fluid style of Gilmour and McCartney, while Claypool is the counterpart bringing an edge (or, more accurately in this case quirkiness (yes, I like the word a lot (what is it with me and nested parentheses today?))) similarly to Waters and Lennon in the aforementioned songwriting pairs.
On the album The Great Parrot-Ox And The Golden Egg Of Empathy, there is one track that just has etched itself onto my brain like a Nerve Tattoo (thank you, Motorpsycho), and that is the song Meat Machines. It has a long synthesized intro for a little over a minute before the guitar comes in - and then there is Claypool's bass anchoring it all with a tone right from Geddy Lee's playbook. It is filled with treble, which really makes it pop, but when the pre-chorus sets in, the rich bottom appears as well. It may not be earthshatteringly original when it comes to the melody, but it is wonderfully constructed, and even more so, it is wonderfully written, both musically and lyrically. It asks the question "is there more to us?" - "are humans nothing more than meat machines?" It is filled with standout lines, like "It's such a very precarious line between stoned and petrified" and "when you can't see the maze you're in, how can you escape it?" It asks many big questions - and what I love is that it doesn't try to answer them. And I would argue that this is a case of asking the questions itself is answering them.
It's been a long time again. Luckily, this time I didn't have to reopen the site - or I wasn't met with a "Tore doesn't live here anymore" message the way I was the last time I popped back in. I always have plans. Great plans. And then life pops in and gets in the way. But this time, there has been so many great releases. So many. And some of them were surprise drops as well. But I want to start with an old favorite of mine. Tori Amos. And no, it's not because there is only a vowel difference in our first names. It is because I have been genuinely moved by here latest album, In Times Of Dragons.
In the beginning of her career, with albums like Little Earthquakes and Under The Pink (I am choosing to ignore Y Kant Tori Read - although it is charming in its way), she really moved me. Massively so. But sometime after Boys For Pele, I lost the connection I had to her music. I loved From The Choirgirl Hotel, but I don't remember much of it. It didn't stick the same way the first three albums had. And To Venus and Back really didn't click. Then I loved Strange Little Girls, the collection of cover songs, including Slayer's Raining Blood - although I have to admit that some of her choices for arrangements were pretty far out there.
So I lost touch with her music for a while, but around the time of the album Native Invader from 2017, I started picking up her music again. The time was right for me to explore the 16 year gap, more or less, and it revealed good albums. Not stellar, to me, but good. Ocean To Ocean followed, and I caught her on tour for the first time. Needless to say, I loved the show - and not even a boot on her broken foot slowed her down.
But In Times Of Dragons is to me an album that brings me back to the old days. This time, again, she has something to say, and she's not afraid to speak her mind. From an artistic point of view, I have always been a huge proponent of "show, don't tell," but these days, subtlety gets lost in the constant roar of what Tori Amos unabashedly label the patriarchy. She hits hard this time. Her words are direct. They are political. They are charged. And she is unapologetic. The lyrics in Shush make clear just how she feels: "Southern girls know what it means/when the patriarchy menacingly says/you shush yourself now."
And then there is the music. The piano churns out bass heavy chords, slogging along at a pace that is heavy. So very heavy. We feel the weight of what she is singing about. Her right-hand hits lighter notes - there is a sprinkling of treble notes as well. But there is very little light that is shining through.
And then there is the added weight of the final lines: "I knew a girl who wrote/'Silent All These Years'/Where is she." And on those notes, those words, the song ends. Having followed her embrace and empowerment of femininity since the beginning, those words, with the callback to Silent All These Years, hit hard. And that sets the tone for the rest of the album. This is prime Tori Amos. This is greatness. This is one of the greatest female voices of all time. This is what you NEED to listen to!
