Meads of Asphodel, The - The Mill Hill Sessions
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Asphodel – The Mill Hill Sessions (Godreah) review by Pete.
You can almost picture the scene. The Meads Of Asphodel are exhausted. They have battled throughout the night and their chain mail rests heavy upon them, drenched in claret from numerous battles. They have traversed tricky mountain plateaus and been besieged by trollish demons. They have battled their way through enchanted forests, at the mercy of grim and evil necromancy. They would have no doubt rescued the princess but they were alas too stoned to aide the fair maidens calls. There has been much ale consumed and bladders are full as they approach a massive grassy Hill. Their horses stamp restlessly, steam rising from their nostrils in the foggy dew laden cold break of day. Metatron's steed is at deaths
door. Never one to master a full-grown horse or even a pony, his ass is ravaged by the arduous journey. At the top of the craggy mound they spy the object of their quest, an olden Mill that is untouched by the ravages of time and one that is home to a state of the art modern recording studio. However there is a guardian to vanquish. An ancient and hoary dragon who's breath is as fetid as the odour emanating from our intrepid musical pilgrims unwashed bodies. The dragon gets ready to charge and Metatron spits at the ground in contempt mouthing the words, "that's the last fucking time we record here lads"!
In reality though they caught the bus to Mill Hill, which is a particularly uninspiring suburb of North West London and one that really has little to offer in the way of redeeming qualities. The last time I actually passed through here I did so as quickly as possible, stopping long enough to grab a can of Special Brew to help me on my way. Luckily there is a good music complex and it was here that The Meads gathered to record these two sessions. The sound is full bodied, sharp and somewhat arrogant. Snares crash loudly and everything is high in the mix giving this a raw yet thoroughly presentable demeanour. The first session comprises of 6 tracks that many who are au fait with the Meads previous outputs will recognise in this unabridged by studio tomfoolery format. Second session is My Beautiful Genocide, a sprawling opus of great magnitude and one that clocks up a remarkable 23 minute playing time. Joining the somewhat at times Hawkwind inspired black metal mentalists on this performance are none other than (err) 2 members of Hawkwind, Alan Davey (bass) and Huw Lloyd Langton (guitar).
The first thing that strikes you about opener God Is Rome is just how damn punk rock it sounds. The riff machinery fires up in gnarly obtuse manner and the vocals vomit in with all the finesse of an English football hooligan at a West Ham match. Yet behind the thick rumbling bass tone there is a melody blossoming and one that is catchy as hell and will have you snottily singing along in its wake. Metatron is either on fine form or fine drugs. Like the archangel who was biblically the voice of God, he is oft to go into spoken word sermons that are jaunty and amusing (the normal themes are embraced, namely death, doom and more death). The first of these rears its ugly head on Grisly Din Of Killing Steel and is done so to an accordion accompaniment providing a sea shanty pirate induced backdrop. 50 Grains Of Sand is crusty as hell, permeated with an anarcho grind, which is pure manna to an old sodden soap dodger like me. The Watchers Of Catal Huyuk progresses in a pompous battle march that is enhanced by gung ho cymbal clatters sounding like the crash of steel on armour. To top the sesh off we have an angular (read shambolic) version of Sepultura classic Refuse / Resist. This was surely never meant to be more than a good old drunken mash up and check out the grand attempt at a death grunt (well yelp actually), which sounds like it was acquired by means of a large anal dildo penetration.
My Beautiful Genocide is the work of the warped and the sort of thing I would expect from other British fruitcake, Archdrude Julian Cope. We venture in with a chord that sounds like it has escaped from The Dead Kennedy's back catalogue before the snarling vocals bark in and lead us on a merry jig. As yobbish as the vocal approach is, the meandering melody counterpoises things with some brilliant and more than familiar set pieces. The Hawkwind contribution is obvious and at one point we are taken off on a passage that sounds like it is straight out of Warriors On The Edge Of Time (and if I picked the wrong album blame the drugs, I could spend a week going through my Wind collection, so bite me). Another blues based interlude plucks up acoustically reminding me of another well-known piece that had Steve and I both tearing our hair out (and believe you me I haven't got much left to spare). Suddenly it bit, literally, as this was Moondance by Van Morrison, which was used on American Werewolf In London. It is all ruined by Metatron telling us to "fuck the world and blame the devil", and the guitars flailing away in pub rock abandon. Hell there's another 10 minutes of this but you get the picture and to sum it all up this is a bonkers track from a barking mad band. Many groups are flaunting with the spirit of the 70s but The Meads are truly up there reliving a tradition of Astounding Sounds, Amazing Stories. That said this is going to be far from many black purists ideals and an album that is likely to have forums overflowing with tissy fits of indignation. In response I can only post the following in reply with the immortal words, "fuck the lot of you"! Genius never meant to be understood anyway.
Review by Pete/Live4Metal.com
[ Discography ]
Label:
Godreah |
Item Code: FAFF 04 |
Country:
United Kingdom
|
Year:
2005 |
Genre:
Black Metal
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