Rews - Pyro album review

Guitar and drums duo, Rews, explode onto the scene with heavy riffs and poppy hooks that deserve far more credit than the rather one dimensional label of "the female Royal Blood".

When Brighton pair Royal Blood created an entirely new sound that drew both mainstream and old school rock fans with their critically acclaimed eponymous debut in 2014, the game changed. Black Sabbath, Deep Purple and Led Zeppelin style riffs and poppy choruses sewed together two so very separate parts of musical culture so inexplicably well that it was almost impossible to see how such an innovative sound could be further innovated. Well, up step REWS, there's a new player in the game.

Shauna Tohill (vocals, guitar and keys) and Collette Williams (drums and vocals) have seen Royal Blood's dirty blues-based gruff and raised them vocal harmonies. Adding such texture to the fuzzy pop cocktail presents you with an idea of what Heart could have sounded like if Tony Iommi, Ritchie Blackmore or Jimmy Page had collaborated.

They don't ever over do the harmonies though. Sometimes their intertwined voices are on show throughout and other times it's either lady on her own with the occasional word given a smattering of extra honey. Either way the tone is measured perfectly, with some songs only given a little extra and others a full blown scream fest - which is quite literally in the case on Violins.

Another avenue where Rews can't be compared to the Royal Blood blueprint is the sheer variety of tracks on offer - something Royal Blood haven't managed over two albums. Let It Roll goes full Sabbath from the intro, whereas Death Yawn (despite the morbidity of the title) is a far more up beat, poppy outing. Your Tears perfectly combines the two styles to produce a song that is both poppy and heavy in equal measure.

With ten songs squeezed into 32-minutes, Pyro is a firecracker of a record that serves to light the fuse of Rews' skyward rocket.

Rating - 4/5

Sons of Apollo - Psychotic Symphony album review

Prog Metal super-group, Sons of Apollo, surpass expectations as they explode onto the scene with debut long-player, Psychotic Symphony.

Since leaving Dream Theater in 2010, Mike Portnoy has had a fair few projects to keep himself busy - Adrenaline Mob, Flying Colours, Winery Dogs. Where Sons of Apollo has become more than a 'side project' is in the quality of the members; Derek Sherinian (ex-Dream Theater), Billy Sheehan (Winery Dogs, Mr. Big), Jeff Scott Soto (Trans-Siberian Orchestra, Yngwie Malmsteen, Journey) and Ron 'Bumblefoot' Thal (Guns 'n' Roses).

Connotations will be drawn with Dream Theater given Sherinian and Portnoy's involvement, but where SOA truly stands apart is in Soto's aggressive vocal style. The man is a beast of a singer, and while many of the songs on Psychotic Symphony are notable for their extensive instrumental sections - as you would expect from a prog album - when Soto is rattling his pipes he exudes the kind of aggressive vigour that a singer akin to James LaBrie can never deliver for Dream Theater.

While you would expect the flavour of this album to be purely prog metal - given the history of it's creator and leader, Portnoy - that's not entirely what we get. The influence of the undercard members - Sheehan and Bumblefoot - is felt with shorter songs firmly rooted in rock.

The album opens with a monster of a track: God of the Sun. An epic four part 11-minute Sherinian composition. It opens with a very middle eastern vibe, with Bumblefoot and Sherinian combining so effectively you can hardly tell when you're listening to a guitar or keyboard. From there Sheehan and Portnoy join the groove and pedal a driving, full-blooded beat. Soto comes in around the three minute mark with the story of the God of the Sun, which brings the end of part two. Part three is an atmospheric sea of soft tones - a total juxtaposition from the first five minutes. At seven minutes we are thrown back into the heavy melee we would expect from these players and after a slinky, John Petrucci-esque solo, the song closes with Soto's story once again. It's a tremendous way to open the album and sets a high standard for what's to come.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VHSUT-ClRo8

Coming Home couldn't be more of a departure from the opening track. We get a Val Halen ish keyboard riff, a scream, and then a more straight forward hard rock sound with Sheehan and Bumblefoot taking more of a driving seat with the crushing riff. The story goes that Sherinian wanted to do a U.K. angle with the song, but Portnoy preferred a more epic, big rock sound. It's the perfect song to be the first single - it grabs you and never lets go.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2troOCI5AAM

Signs of the Time meets the previous two tracks at a crossroads. It's similar in length to Coming Home but takes on more musical attributes from God of the Sun. The highlight is the insanely fast and technical two minute Bumblefoot solo. All of the solos on this record sound like an imitation of Petrucci, but that can only be the highest of praise for Bumblefoot who has openly said how intimidated he initially was by the band's musical style.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6EFROCoQYlc&t=3s

Labyrinth's opening is as different from the rest of the album as it's possible to get. Strings - in similar style to Eleanor Rigby - accompany a weak voice before Soto bellows and cues the ensuing kaleidoscope of progressive artistry. If there's a scale from 1-10 of 'proggyness' on this album, this would certainly sit at the high end. It twists, turns, ducks and dives so many times it's difficult to keep track of what's happening with the time signatures and who's doing what, but that pertains to just how talented these five musicians are to keep the composition so tight while flying full throttle on their respective instruments. My personal favourite part of this track is near the end when Bumblefoot's lethal arpeggios give way to vocal harmonies. It comes from nowhere and adds a little flourish to what is arguably the best track on Psychotic Symphony.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N-rCa1OMa3I&t=137s

The album takes a moment of calm with Alive, an almost David Gilmour-esque track in the way it's given plenty of room to breathe and is hugely emotive. Soto more than aptly shows his chops for metal on this record, but Alive is where we get to experience his vocal dexterity. Shaped more like a ballad, there are moments of musical heaviness but Soto's contribution comes in the form of softer, emotive vocals with accompanied Portnoy and Bumblefoot harmonies. Bumblefoot shines with the solo too. Completely stripped back and free of over driven shredding, he wafts through a wash of reverb and delicate picking.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NRnS1EzDVLQ

Amid the tempestuously chaotic riff, Lost In Oblivion has some moments of utter brilliance, particularly with a bass/guitar unison solo section between Sheehan and Bumblefoot. It's totally mesmerising. The contrast between the verse and chorus is interesting too, jumping between a heavy metal tone and almost pop. Soto's voice handles the change of tone brilliantly too, keeping a deep profile for the verse and rising for the chorus.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YyPQjVUVq4s

Figaro's Whore is Sherinian's shining individual moment on Psychotic Symphony. To best describe this keyboard solo is to compare it to Eddie Van Halen's Eruption. Sherinian's playing style is more that of a guitarist than pianist so when it comes to solos he sounds like he's channeling players such as Randy Rhodes, Jeff Beck and EVH. The song gets it's title from a section within the track that is inspired by Mozart's piece, Marriage of Figaro - as Sherinian has put it: "There had to have been a whore in the equation somwhere, so I wanted to cover that angle of the story!"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mQzX4QrIT94

Divine Addiction - of which Figaro's Whore acts as a prelude - has all the hallmarks of Deep Purple; big organ sound and quintessential 1970s hard rock riff. So quintessentially 70s in fact, Sheehan thought he'd heard it somewhere before. It's a credit to Sherinian's writing that he could compose a riff and melody so close to Deep Purple's iconic sound without plagiarising it!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nh2GSZOtaJU

Psychotic Symphony ends where the album started, with 10 minutes of complex prog, except this time it's an expansive instrumental: Opus Maximus. It's pompous, pretentious, self indulgent, self aggrandising and totally ridiculous. One thing's for sure, it'll be a heinous bastard to play live!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3addS-uEkmo

In the build up to release, Sons of Apollo have been labelled a 'super-group', purely because of the names associated with it, but with this record they have shown they are worth far more than the cliched term would suggest. We shouldn't be surprised - given the lineup - that their musicianship alone sets the new standard of prog metal.

Black Country Communion - BCCIV album review

Black Country Communion aren't and have never been a standard rock band. Comprised of four of the greatest musicians alive today, the super group have undoubtedly become the standard bearers of exceptionally well crafted, soulful rock songs since they joined forces in 2010. BCCIV only further cements their already impressive legacy.

From the ashes, rises a majestic phoenix

After a somewhat acrimonious and rancorous split in 2013 over how seriously band members were taking BCC as a full time project - or not in Joe Bonamassa's case - it seems a perfect example of absence making the heart grow fonder. Or, more accurately, the musical chemistry.

It's worth pointing out that without the split we wouldn't have had some incredible solo albums - Bonamassa's Blue Of Desparation and Glenn Hughes' Resonate - but given how the split happened it was probably for the best anyway.

It's fitting however that the album cover is a phoenix rising from the ashes; a tad self indulgent but at the same time couldn't be more appropriate.

BCCIV kicks off with the sole single Collide. With John Bonham's son Jason behind the skins it's unsurprising a good amount of this album has a Zeppy feel but nowhere is that influence more obvious than here. It cuts a striking resemblance to Black Dog with Bonamassa's tumbling riff but Glenn Hughes gives the song a different dimension with his soaring vocals. It's the shortest song bar one on this record but by golly does it make up for that with out and out power.

Last Song For My Resting Place is the first example on this disc of the long form song structure we've come to expect from BCC. At eight minutes it's certainly an epic and it's bolstered by the strength of the song writing. Accompanied by a mandolin and fiddle and backing vocals courtesy of Hughes, Bonamassa tells the story of Wallace Hartley - the man who played his violin as the mighty Titanic sank into the icy Atlantic waters. The song glides effortlessly through four minutes at a solemn pace before it kicks into high gear with a dark and dramatic Bonamassa solo. It's a classic for the BCC archives, no doubt.

L to R: Joe Bonamassa, Glenn Hughes, Jason Bonham and Derek Sherinian

Don't let the musical grandiosity of The Cove fool you: it's a song about Hughes' love of dolphins. While I have no issue with the subject in itself, it's not the standard of songwriting we've come to expect from BCC. It's dressed up with Hughes' signature wailing but it's sadly one of the weakest songs the quintet have produced - which given the standard they've accrued still makes it a decent track.

All is well again on follow up track The Crow. A pounding riff slaps you in the face and reminds you just what BCC are capable of. The relay of solos midway through are the highlight; first a groovy bass solo from Hughes, followed by the shimmering organ of Derek Sherinian and capped off by Bonamassa.

Love Remains is a simply written, somber tribute Hughes wrote to his father on his way to his memorial service. Sadly, when he went to record it his mother died and so the song became a homage to both. Hughes almost imitates a choir with his angelic vocals on the chorus. It's a touching song that adds nuance to an otherwise hard edged album.

Awake is the best track on the record from a technical viewpoint. It's the perfect example of all four musicians in tune with each other - interweaving fiddly riffs around a high speed tempo.

The album closes with When The Morning Comes. It offers a brilliant juxtaposition between Bonamassa, Bonham and Sherinian's Zep driven riff and Hughes' chilled out vocals. Bonamassa gets his heavy blues solo in, Bonham's fluid fills and dappled throughout Sherinian's delicate piano - it's a triumph of song writing and composition. Sherinian - who maintains a a fairly low profile throughout BCCIV - shines on this track for his dexterity of style. One verse he's playing a light and airy organ to accompany Hughes and the next he's delivering a searing Jon Lord style Deep Purple solo.

I really hope BCC stick together for the long haul. They are one of the best bands in the world but it remains to be seen if the phoenix will continue to soar or disappear into the ash once again.

Rival Sons Live at Cambridge Junction

The comparisons between the very first live show I saw and the most recent are startling.

In 2011, I was introduced to Led Zeppelin's The Song Remains The Same film, shot at Madison Square Garden in the summer of 1973. The inhabitants of the Mothership were at their peak, jet-setting across the globe, considered Gods among men. That live performance was everything rock music should be; controlled but completely unleashed and primal in the same token. The cohesion of Page, Plant, JPJ and Bonham was mesmerising, magical and magnificent, holding 20,000 in awed spectators in the palm of their hand and feeding off the electricity that filled the air that night in New York. At Cambridge Junction, some 44 years later, in front of some 19,250 fewer people, Rival Sons had the same effect. 

Credit: Jane Dawson

Rival Sons - who many have coined the new Led Zeppelin - have evolved immeasurably since their Earache label debut album, Pressure and Time, in 2011. Head Down (2012) and Great Western Valkyrie (2014) were great albums in their own right, but are mere thumbnails in time compared to the soulful sensation of Hollow Bones (2016): their Led Zeppelin IV to continue the analogy.

Credit: Jane Dawson

The Long Beach, California, quartet (quintet when you include keyboardist and beard enthusiast Todd Ogren-Brooks) opened with the first three tracks from Hollow Bones; Hollow Bones Pt.1, Tied Up and Thundering Voices.

Great Western Valkyrie got a generous showing throughout the night too, getting as many track plays as Hollow Bones; the raucous Electric Man, the infectiously groovy Secret - one of my absolute favourite Rival Sons songs - Belle Star, the beautiful Where I've Been - in memory of a dearly departed friend - and Open My Eyes, which borrows its drum intro heavily from Zep's When the Levee Breaks: that's no bad thing, mind.

Two thirds through the set, we heard three tracks that Rival Sons recorded right at the beginning of their careers; Tell Me Something, Face Of Light and Torture. For songs written before any of their big hits, I was bowled over by the greatness of these tracks. Tell Me Something and Torture are what you would normally expect from Rival Sons, whereas Face Of Light is reminiscent of Zep's The Rain Song, albeit almost half the length.

Heading into the final stretch, Rival Sons played the penultimate track from Hollow Bones, Hollow Bones Pt. 2 - a frenzied seven minute number that's so chaotic it's incredible the band members keep it together. It's hard rocking, but also quiet and reserved in spots before erupting again, with Jay screaming various religious affirmations at the top of his lungs.

Finally, the Sons played their first single from Head Down; Keep On Swinging. This was also the first song I'd heard of theirs after being recommended to listen to them. It's easy sing-along chorus was a great way to end the show.

What comes across so marvelously in a live environment is their ability to be in the "pocket". To get to a place within the music where they're so comfortable that they could be at the O2 Arena or practicing at home, it still oozes the same gut wrenching passion and soul that sucks you in and leaves you yearning for more. 

Credit: Jane Dawson

The comparisons between the individual members of Rival Sons and Led Zeppelin are interesting to explore too. You almost don't notice Rival Sons' bassist, Dave Beste, in the best possible way. He's unassuming but incredibly crucial, piping up occasionally for backing vocal duties. Michael Miley on drums looks and plays more similarly to John Bonham than he'd probably be comfortable admitting - even ripping through a long Moby Dick style solo a la The Song Remains The Same while his band mates enjoy a rest. The comparison with Scott Holiday and Jimmy Page isn't in playing style especially, but in the way they experiment with sounds. For Page it was a theremin and using a celo bow over his guitar strings, for Holiday it's the plethora of pedals that bestow him the nickname 'Fuzz Lord'. Lastly, but by no means least, Jay Buchanan is the first front man in decades to revitalise the character of the 1970s. Not in the way he thrusts his 'pocket rocket' like Robert Plant, but the way he leaves you hanging on every word, howling and shrieking as if his body has been possessed by the spirit of the music: it's utterly, irresistibly, sensational.

Jay said at the end of the gig, rather beautifully I think: "We've been opening for Black Sabbath for 18 months, and that's so cool, but nothing beats this! It's so much more intimate and we love it."

Crobot - Welcome To Fat City album review

Welcome To The Potsville Nebula!

I would advise drawing a deep breath before diving into Crobot. If you don't, you may well be left a stupefied mess by this blast of cosmological psychedelia.  

Credit: nuclearblast.de

Musically, they're controlled in their chaos - like King Crimson minus the idiosyncratic acid-driven, seemingly decade long instrumentals - swirling and swaying a miasma of rhythm, riffs and quirky distortion until you're induced into a psychedelic coma: Crobot would have fitted right in cerca 1966-69.

The genre is a tricky one to pin down though - heavy psychedelic space rock - at a punt. Imagine what would have happened if Jefferson Airplane, Deep Purple and Black Sabbath had given birth to a sub-genre and you'll get a vague idea of just how out there Crobot are!

Despite WTFC being a very spacey album, there are varying degrees of pothead craziness interwoven throughout the 12 tracks. The title track, for example, opens with a colossal smash of drums and riffage, and is only added to with guitarist Chris Bishop's unique use of a Vox Joe Sattriani Time Machine Delay pedal, creating some kind of inter-dimensional, oscillating warp speed shrill - an effect that pops up regularly in this edition of Crobot's discography. 

Bringing the insanity of the album back down to earth a little is Easy Money - the only track on the album that harks back to the roots of the blues with a heavy, plodding rhythm and a harmonica solo. 

If there's one example on here of a song starting as one thing and quickly changing to a total juxtaposition, it's Hold On For Dear Life. A perfectly serene guitar tone is projected for 30 seconds or so, before an enormous, monstrous, marauding Sabbath-esque barrage comes crashing through the ether like a locomotive pounding through a sleepy village. To give it higher praise still, it has very much the same balking impact as Tony Iommi's ominous opening strums on the band's eponymous track.

Much in the same vein as Hold On To Dear Life - except without the opening diversion - Plague Of The Mammoths delivers yet more Sabbath inspired doom. What's more, we're treated to an entire solo from Bishop with the Vox Joe Sattriani Time Machine Delay, producing a mesmeric, other worldly soundscape. 

Once you've regained your breath from your 35 minute odyssey through the potsville nebula, you'll want to start all over again!

Rating - 4/5