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This week in Soundscan, supergroup Chickenfoot shifted a ridiculous number of records. I’m baffled too. Elsewhere, Iron Maiden had a solid debut and bands like Nickelback, Hollywood Undead, Shinedown, Slipknot, and Metallica continued on with business as usual.
Meet If These Trees Could Talk, an instrumental band from Akron, Ohio. If These Trees Could Talk border on metal the same way bands like Dredg, Muse, Maserati and Russian Circles do — for the most part they stick to delicate but rocking atmospheric grooves, but occasionally they kick it into high gear for cathartic headbang crescendos. If you’re a fan of well-crafted, intricate, moody music like the above-mentioned bands — in addition to other heady, cerebral rock acts like Tool, Mogwai, and Isis — my guess is you’ll dig this band. This is thinking man’s rock for listeners who revel in musical subtlety; no blast beats or cookie monster vocals to be seen here. For those questioning why this is on a metal site, go fuck yourself. Or just wait ’til the heavy part towards the end of the song kicks in.
ITTCT have been kind enough to offer us up a free track called “What’s in the Ground Belongs To You” from their album Above the Sky, Below the Earth. Stream or download it below. They’ll be releasing a new vinyl through Mylene Sheath sometime this Fall. Enjoy.
If These Trees Could Talk – “What’s in the Ground Belongs To You”
-VN
[Visit ITTCT on MySpace]
MetalSucks contributor and Hipster-Hater Anso DF posted a fine piece about not-metal-but-adored-by-many-metal-fans San Francisco stoner-groove band Dredg on his excellent blog Hipsters out of Metal! We’ve heard all of Dredg’s new record The Pariah, The Parrot, The Delusion (out June 9th), and let me tell you, it is fucking boner-worthy as all hell. “Information,” the obvious choice as first single, is also quite obviously one of the worst and simplest songs on a record full of great and complex songs, but c’est la vie. I’ll let our friend Anso take it from here:
Art-rock quartet Dredg doesn’t exactly do themselves any favors. Their name is tragically similar to powerfully inferior bands like Staind and Trapt. Get past that, and you’ll find their sound is flittery and intellectual; I bet Neil Peart heard them and was like Goddamn these lyrics are pretentious. And worst of all, they signed to a major label that didn’t have the stones to promote them. Which isn’t to say Atlantic did nothing with 2004’s brilliant Terry Date-produced set Catch Without Arms, nor that Dredg is not a difficult act. But while the Discovery Price concept is a strong inducement to purchase, it doesn’t work if the album is invisible to purchasers. Every fucking body who is aware of Dredg LOVES them. That there will be more of us in the coming weeks is indicated by their yawning, quaking new single “Information” (above). And we’re not closeted Coldplay fans like all those Thrice-humpers.
The video for the new single “Information,” after el jumparino.
So. Yesterday was a fucking whirlwind.
Salt Lick BBQ lunch, punctuated by the special rice krispie treat some guy had sold us the night prior. Kip and I were giggling like high school kids stoned for the first time as we were eating THE MOST FUCKING AMAZING BARBECUE FUCKING EVER. From there it was right back into it with a triumvirate of Peelander-Z, Rwake and proggy atmospheric rockers Maserati. Pound down a few Lone Stars, Coffee, Red Bull, keep going. We hit a quality standup comedy showcase next (Eugene Mirman, others) to break things up before indulging in delicious street tacos, then onwards to the Pelican / Dredg show at Emo’s. Once again, Dredg killed it (better sound this time), and once again I’m not much impressed by Pelican. Cut to 6am passing some bottles of cheap red wine around a hotel room with Dredg as I realized I had to leave for the airport… breakfast at Salt Lick offshoot in the airport, plane, pass out, New York.
Thank you to everyone we hung out with all weekend for making this our best SXSW yet. Fucking epic.
The big buzz on the street yesterday was that Metallica would be playing at the 2,100 capacity Stubb’s; was it worth getting there early to ensure a spot inside? The 8 semis parked outside the venue loomed large. Would us plebes even be able to get in? Some friends from the Relapse goon squad opted to try, and apparently getting in wasn’t quite the shit-show we’d anticipated. We opted for Whitechapel instead (bad decision), but did end up listening to three songs from outside the outdoor venue along with a few hundred other kindred souls.
While I was busy not seeing Metallica, I did catch Tia Carrera, Hesta Prynn, Jump Back Jake, Dance Gavin Dance, Whitechapel, Wolves in the Throne Room, Dredg, and then an epic DIY show/party on a bridge over the Colorado River with makeshift performances by Vivian Girls and Trash Talk. Highlights and lowlights after the jump.
In 2006, San Francisco’s Giant Squid released Metridium Fields, which is, to put it mildly, a fucking doozy of an album. Lucky for all of us, then, the band has just completed work at that record’s follow-up, as singer/guitarist Aaron Gregory tells us in a press release:
Based on their incredibly lame name, I assumed, when I sat down to listen to Kill Your Ex’s From Words to Motion, that KYE would be the gazillionth American band making a desperate attempt to sound like they were from Gothenburg. Having now listened to this album, all I can say is, I wish Kill Your Ex played third-rate metalcore.
Instead what we get is horrific yuppie alt-rock that would haunt my nightmares, if any of it were actually memorable enough for even my subconscious to somehow absorb. This garbage isn’t on the same level as Dredg, let alone a band like Muse or Coheed & Cambria; fuck, this shit isn’t even on the same level as Maroon 5. When I think of all the better things that could have been done with the money and resources it took to make this album – feed starving children, research a cure for cancer, get someone high/drunk/laid/whatever – it makes me want to exterminate the entire human race.
I’d say more, but really, what’s the point? I’ve already wasted two minutes of my life I’ll never get back typing shit about this worthless, worthless band.
(Fuck You out of Five Horns)
-AR
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