Cheap Thrills - March 2022
This month: psych rock, shoegaze, Warhammer 40k-themed death metal!
Welcome to this third installment of Cheap Thrills, my monthly roundup of "name your price" releases on Bandcamp. These are albums and EPs that can be legally downloaded and streamed for free, but I highly recommend spending a few dollars if you find anything that you enjoy. You can peruse January and February's entries for additional recommendations.
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Our first album for this month has some sentimental value for me. Back in college, I discovered a band called The Pax Cecilia. Their 2007 album Blessed are the Bonds had gained some traction on a music forum that I frequented at the time, and I was intrigued by posters' descriptions of the band's sound. Post rock? Screamo? Classical? I downloaded the album for free on the band's website (it's still there) and listened to it over and over again, utterly captivated by what I was hearing. Blessed are the Bonds quickly became a very important album to me, not just because of the DIY manner of its release (you could also email the band for a free CD, which I did) but also for its gorgeous blend of the aforementioned genres. Unfortunately, The Pax Cecilia faded away, and aside from a few demo tracks released in 2014, there was little to indicate that the band was still active.
Enter Ode and Elegy!
For all intents and purposes, Ode and Elegy is a continuation of The Pax Cecilia legacy, a "sister project" that further hones the qualities that won me over more than a decade ago. You can even get a free CD on the official webstore if you're interested (just pay for shipping). This time around songwriter Kent Fairman Wilson is joined by an army of nearly 40 musicians including former bandmate and drummer Gregory Austin, a string quartet, a brass section, and a choir. The result is a sonic tapestry even grander in scope than Blessed Are the Bonds, full of slow rises and falls that culminate in crescendos as cathartic as they are bombastic. If you have the time—and the patience—Ode and Elegy is well worth the 55 minutes that it takes to listen to it in full. Hell, it was worth the 15 years that I waited for it!
The song rose first from whisper,
Then a prayer, then a poem.
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A band with a name like Poison Popcorn might not sound all that appetizing (the album cover probably isn't doing it any favors, either), but they are more than capable of cooking up some tasty instrumental jams. Fixed, the latest album from this eccentric Shetland group, is an hypnotic blend of psychedelic rock and jazz fusion that has become my go-to grading soundtrack for the last few weeks. That's a dubious distinction for sure, but I'll say that the album keeps me from losing my mind when reading papers!
One thing of my favorite things about Fixed is how organic and improvisational it feels. At first, I didn't even notice the relatively subdued guitar and keys, but this was because they are almost entirely dedicated to creating ambient soundscapes. From there, the incredible rhythm section keeps things fresh with an ever-changing array of grooves that nudge the songs along at a relaxed but purposeful pace. Add in some soulful saxophone solos (did I forget to mention that there's sax?), and baby, you've got a stew going!
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As we're going to see throughout this month's column, there is plenty of sad music out there. However, Memphis indie rockers Late Night Cardigan know how to make the best out of a bad situation. With their debut album Life is Bleak and It's My Cheat Day, the band is throwing a pity party—and we're all invited!
Late Night Cardigan may only have one album and EP under their belt, the band could easily share a stage with acts like Hop Along, Laura Stevenson, and/or Snail Mail. I might even go so far as to say that they would end up a crowd favorite before the night was through. Life is Bleak... is a relentlessly catchy album, full of guitar hooks and sing-along choruses that perfectly suit the "anxiety pop" tag that the band has jokingly applied to their Bandcamp page. Bad days have never been this fun.
I guess it all makes sense
But I'm having a hell of a time saying it out loud
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I love me a good wall of sound. Drone, black metal, shoegaze—you name it. If you stack enough distorted guitars or synths on top of one another to create an almost perfectly rectangular waveform, I'm there. This brings us to Parannoul, a one-man-band from Seoul whose speaker-rattling, lo-fi take on emo perfectly captures the unbearable heaviness of young adulthood.
To See the Next Part of the Dream is wonderfully rough around the edges and distorted enough to give bands like Have a Nice Life and Boris a run for their money. The guitars and drums clip so hard that the album sounds loud at nearly any volume setting, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Besides, the amateurish recording quality (and singing) only amplifies the earnestness with which this anonymous solo musician pours out his heart. When I say that this is bedroom emo writ loud, I mean it. Parannoul's lyrics are painfully frank, referencing anxiety, deferred dreams, ennui, and self-loathing—heavy stuff, in more ways than one—but the album does end on an upswing, with the final track trading the melancholy for a sentiment approaching optimism. Tomorrow's another day, and Parranoul hopes that at the very least, something new will be waiting for us.
Age of fluctuation
Age of confusion
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Does the world needs more sci-fi themed death metal bands, let alone more bands that draw inspiration from Warhammer 40,000? The answer is obviously yes. This is a well that will never run dry, or rather a warp gate that will never close. Thus, when Dominus Nox entered my recommendations feed from the grim darkness of the 41st millennium, I was immediately on board.
Now, death metal fans would be right to question whether Dominus Nox is yet another Bolt Thrower imitator, and thankfully, the band manages to dodge that particular depleted-uranium bullet. Instead, they draw from Swedish death metal, packing just enough melody to sound triumphant without becoming saccharine. The songs charge ahead with galloping rhythms reminiscent of Amon Amarth, but buzzing with with that glorious HM-2 chainsaw (or in this case, chainsword) guitar tone. I'm not invested enough in Warhammer 40k lore to accurately assess the accuracy of the lyrical content, but even I had a great deal of fun reading the lyrics and imagining legions of corrupted Space Marines chanting their dark deities' names as they storm an Imperial forge world.
With the skulls you claim
The gods will know your name
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That's all for this month! Join me in a few weeks for more "name your price" goodies. Take care.