Showing posts with label Black Label Society. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Black Label Society. Show all posts

CD Review: Zakk Wylde – Book of Shadows II

CD Review: Zakk Wylde – Book of Shadows II
eOne Music
All Access Rating: A

Zakk Wylde - Book Of
Shadows II 2016
A sequel two decades in the making, Zakk Wylde's Book Of Shadows II seems at odds with the gregarious personality – not to mention the increasingly muscular physique – of its bearded viking of a creator.

Foregoing the mighty roar of a typical Black Label Society or Ozzy Osbourne release, Wylde crafts a dog-eared, toned-down hymnal of introspective, bittersweet ballads with a soulful Southern-rock drawl reminiscent of the Allman Brothers on this, his beautifully rendered second solo album.

The assured work of a man once broken and lost and cautiously hoping beyond hope that he's completely healed, Book of Shadows II, due out on eOne Music, is deeply moving, with the lush, pastoral "Autumn Changes" and "Lay Me Down" and a bluesy "Tears of December" serving notice immediately that Wylde, for all his fortitude, is acutely aware of his all-too-human vulnerability. "Darkest Hour" and "Forgotten Memory" – with its echoes of Jimi Hendrix's "Little Wing" – quietly and gracefully swan dive all the way to rock bottom and yearn for salvation, while "Lost Prayer" has a hopeful, sunny glow ensconced in blues tradition.

Here, warm organ sounds coat a rich, organic blend of tasteful electric and acoustic guitar meditations, all backing resonant vocals soaked in too much melancholy. Melodies slowly evolve and take shape, in no hurry to articulate the inner turmoil of the artist. Tracks such as "Sorrowed Regret" and "The Levee" start out spare and haunting, before Wylde adds instrumental flesh to these creaking bones, in a sense gradually bringing them back to life in some sort of folk-rock resurrection. Spiritual and cathartic, Book of Shadows II is full of woe, evocative of a life of hard-earned lessons and turning inward to confront whatever demons are still in there.
– Peter Lindblad

CD Review: Black Label Society – Catacombs of the Black Vatican

CD Review: Black Label Society – Catacombs of the Black Vatican
eOne Music
All Access Rating: A-

Black Label Society - Catacombs of
the Black Vatican 2014
Whatever horrors there are hiding in the Catacombs of the Black Vatican they can't possibly be any more terrifying than what's yet to be discovered in Zakk Wylde's scraggly beard.

Nevertheless, the ninth album from the biker-metal doomsayers in Wylde's Black Label Society is certainly gloomy and eerie in places, this cavernous dungeon of monstrously heavy riffs, deep-dredging melodies, squealing solos and a few gritty ballads all haunted by painful memories and reeking of death.

Rummaging through the Catacombs of the Black Vatican, the old bones and skulls of Black Label Society's past are encountered, but do not linger in those sealed-off vaults. Wylde certainly doesn't. Although the brawny guitars, wicked grooves and rumbling rhythms found here have a familiar ring, there is a fresh vitality to this material that's palpable, throwing everything good about Alice in Chains, Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath and even Southern rock in a boiling cauldron and casting timeless spells with those magical ingredients.

An absolute pile driver, its great mass heaving to and fro, "Fields of Unforgiveness" delivers a great pounding, while the stoned, churning blues of "Believe" is especially thick and meaty, its repeated riff not only powerful, but also memorable, seemingly feeding off its own energy. And in "My Dying Time," another in a long line of grungy, riff-heavy tracks with elongated, almost graceful curves, Wylde, sounding more like Layne Staley than ever before, confronts his mortality without fear, whereas the growling "I've Gone Away" and a very dark, Black Sabbath-like "Empty Promises" – Wylde's solo here is a shower of sparks – crawl through a sonic gutter bloody and vengeful.

Strong, shifting melodic currents run through Catacombs of the Black Vatican, as it swerves and bends to the mighty will of its creators, little flowers of sonic beauty sprouting through cracks in the hard sonic cement. Nonetheless, thanks in large part of Wylde's affecting vocals, the ballads "Angel of Mercy" and "Scars" somehow manage to sound both earthy and lush, each as pretty as anything in the Black Label Society canon, the latter inheriting its Southern accent directly from the Allman Brothers. Blessed be the Black Label Society.
– Peter Lindblad




CD Review: Various Artists - Re-Machined - A Tribute to Deep Purple's Machine Head


CD Review: Various Artists – Re-Machined – A Tribute to Deep Purple’s Machine Head
Eagle Records
All Access Review: B+
Re-Machined - A Tribute to Deep Purple's Machine Head 2012
“Why in the world would anybody bring a flare gun to a Frank Zappa concert, let alone shoot it off inside the venue?” Even after all these years, isn’t that the question that springs to mind every time “Smoke on the Water” and that swinging sledgehammer of a riff, seemingly plucked out of thin air by that six-string magician Ritchie Blackmore, comes crashing through the speakers?
Whatever the reasons for such a brain-dead decision, it certainly had far-reaching consequences for Deep Purple. As related through the oral history of “Smoke on the Water,” Blackmore and company went to Montreux, Switzerland to make a record. They’d rented the Rolling Stones’ mobile studio and were all set to head into the Montreux Casino to record their archetypal heavy-metal manifesto, Machine Head, an album with all the driving horsepower of the finest Mustangs Ford ever manufactured. Then, that infamous “stupid with a flare gun” got trigger-happy and set off a blaze that burned the entire complex to ash, forcing a rather desperate Deep Purple to find other another place to make history. Through the ice and snow, the Mark II lineup hauled that mobile to an almost completely vacant hotel, where the band, working under severe time constraints and less-than-ideal conditions, somehow managed to forge a masterpiece.
The stakes, of course, were not nearly as high, but in some ways, this was rock music’s Apollo 13 moment – a small crew a long ways from home, their master plans derailed by a fire and other acts of God, forced to scramble and improvise on the fly to accomplish what they’d set out to do. On some level, what Deep Purple did was heroic, all the more so considering the incredible results produced by their perseverance and ingenuity. And so, with 2012 being the 40th anniversary of their groundbreaking accomplishment, it’s hard to imagine an album more deserving of a mostly sincere, star-studded homage as Re-Machined – A Tribute to Deep Purple’s Machine Head, which has taken on greater significance with the fairly recent passing of legendary Purple keyboardist Jon Lord and news of the band's nomination for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Getting behind the wheel of “Highway Star,” Chickenfoot and the thrown-together combination of Glenn Hughes, Steve Vai and Chad Smith open up the throttle on differing, frenzied versions of one of the greatest car songs of all-time, with Chickenfoot’s thundering, hot-wired live test-drive of the original wildly pushing into the red and Smith-Hughes-Vai’s take smoking its tires and leaving terra firma to soar into the stratosphere on Hughes’ prayerful wail. On their earthy funk workout of “Maybe I’m a Leo,” Smith and Hughes, a one-time member of Deep Purple’s Mark III crew, lock into the kind of chunky, soulful rock grooves that thicken and add organic, savory flavor to what was somewhat of a thin, starry-eyed stew cooked up by Purple so long ago, while “Lazy” gets a smoldering, bluesy makeover by guitarist Joe Bonamassa and screaming singer Jimmy Barnes.
Less inspired, Metallica’s surprisingly atrophied reworking of “When A Blind Man Cries” – not included on Machine Head initially, as it was a B-side of the “Never Before” single – doesn’t gnash its teeth or exhibit the kind of dynamic energy one would expect of them. Worse yet, the Flaming Lips disappointingly choose to take the piss out of “Smoke on the Water” and robotically dance with this sacred cow, much as Devo did in deconstructing the Rolling Stones’ “Satisfaction.” Arty and interesting in its own way, it also seems a waste of the Lips’ prodigious talent and even more proof that they’ve lost their way, whereas Iron Maiden simply plow through an explosive and gripping, if perhaps a bit too faithful, cover of “Space Truckin’” – recorded in 2006 as a B-side while making A Matter of Life and Death, and it’s sat on the shelf ever since.
What better time for it to find new life, and what better time for Joe Elliot, Steve Stevens, Duff McKagan and Matt Sorum to come together as Kings of Chaos and vigorously shake some glam action out of “Never Before,” or for Carlos Santana and Papa Roach’s Jacoby Shaddix to smoothly maneuver through “Smoke on the Water,” with Santana playing off Blackmore’s riffage and making the track a multi-cultural experience. And then there’s Black Label Society, these hairy metal barbarians storming the gates of “Never Before,” with Zakk Wylde’s wah-wah guitar supernovas barely shining through nests of grungy folk. Diverse, with examples of incredible musicianship, Re-Machined takes some liberties with Machine Head, and more often than not, they’re worth the gamble. Maybe now everyone will forget about that damned flare gun.
-            Peter Lindblad