Ok, I know that it has been far too long since I have updated my blog. It has been, needless to say, a busy few months, with a trip to Europe/South Africa and changes in my job, along with all the rewards and hassles that go hand-in-hand with living in Brazzaville. That said, I have been thinking lately that blogging and writing in general are a great therapeutic diversion, especially here, where I tend to waste far too much time wandering the internet in search of bizarre music.
And, speaking of bizarre music, I decided to christen the rebirth of the blog with a run-down of two of my “desert island discs,” one which I will post today, the other later in the week. In essence, these are albums that I would hope to have on my person in the dreaded, hypothetical what if I get stuck on a desert island scenario. Of course, I would also want a boat in said scenario, allowing me to escape the dreaded, hypothetical desert Island. But I digress…
High on Fire, Surrounded by Thieves
If ever there was a true desert island disc for me, this is it. Since I bought it in the summer of 2002, I have listened to it weekly. It came with me to Togo, to Congo, and I recently purchased it on vinyl. If you have ever ridden in my car, I guarantee I have rocked this, because in my humble opinion, it is the rare record that sounds awesome on a cheap car stereo. It is the apotheosis of why I like extreme music, an artistic statement that manages to be both pummeling and hypnotic. It is a groove monster, unlike so much modern metal, locking into a riff and acting like a crazed, half-satanic reincarnation of James Brown circa 1971, with bass, drums, and guitar achieving a propulsive, perpetual motion thrash.
I guess a little background is in order, especially since those who read this blog are probably not the perma-heshers who know High on Fire intimately. High on Fire came together after the break-up of the legendary Bay Area band Sleep. Sleep was a power trio composed of Matt Pike, Al Cisernos, and Chris Hakius who specialized in music that sounded like Black Sabbath might have if Tony Iommi had a penchant for meditation and the drones of Indian music. Sleep were especially interesting, considering the fact that they came on the scene during the heyday of Grindcore and Death Metal, signing to Earache despite the fact that Sleep’s hypnotic Sabbath-worship could not have been further from the spastic blasting of Morbid Angel or Napalm Death. Though a welcome contrast to the hyper-fast grind coming out at that time (not that I don’t like Death and Grind…I love them; but man cannot live on bread alone), Sleep was short-lived, breaking up after a brief stint on a major label. The cause of the break up was the fact that their last album, known alternatively as Jerusalem or Dopesmoker (an incredibly stupid name, even by the standards of metal, a genre that is either over intellectual, or completely dense), was a 60 minute long track that was rejected outright by the record company for being un-commercial. The subsequent strain resulted in the band breaking up.
In the wake of Sleep, Matt Pike forged on, forming High on Fire. The first HOF release, The Art of Self Defense, was another slab of sludgy rock, hewing very close to the formula that Sleep had established. However, the band really found their sound on their second release, Surrounded by Thieves. On that release, Pike and his crew broke away from the hypnagogic dirges of Sabbath, moving into a mid-tempo thrashy groove that has characterized the band’s sound since. Essentially, the reason why I love this album so much is that HOF combined the low-end boogie of early metal with the mechanical precision of thrash. The result is riffs which are monumental in their single-mindedness; they are designed to bludgeon you with a fierce groove. You know the Nietzsche quote, “If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.” Well, this album is like that, a long player of guitar tone and single minded rhythmic purpose that becomes vertiginous in its tenacity.
Songs like “Eyes and Teeth,” beginning with a nearly subsonic bass, eventually exploding into guitar and tribal drums, set the mood for the album. Matt Pike’s guitar solos are brutal and to the point. Des Kensel makes his drum kit sound like the approach of barbarian hordes. All the while, songs fly by in whiplash fashion, evoking the mythical (ok, completely goofy) beasts that their titles reference; “Speedwolf” sounds just like a song named Speedwolf should sound—fast and razor sharp. “The Yeti” lumbers onto the scene like an angry, awakened thing out of a winter cave. The high point of the album, for me at least, is “The Thraft of Canaan,” where the band takes a breath and settles into a mid-paced brawl with their instruments. The song opens with a feedback laden guitar before deciding to crush you like Dolph Lundgren against the Italian Stallion. Overall, the album plays like a unified whole, each song supported by the two that surround it, becoming an immersive experience.
So, despite all the hyperbole listed above, what are some possible cons? Well, the production is a bit of a love it or hate it deal. Billy Anderson’s production is a sludgy, opaque affair. Personally, I think that murk adds to the psychedelic sound, making the three piece sound like a lava stream rolling over your village. That said, some will find the fact that individual instruments sometimes get lost in the sound off-putting. Also, on a continuum spanning between Britney Spears and Cannibal Corpse, High on Fire certainly hews towards the latter end of the spectrum; though those who dig stuff like Pink Floyd, Hawkwind, or Black Sabbath, may find many things to appreciate about the work, it certainly isn’t for those whose tastes are more saccharine. Still, the next time I am trapped on a desert island, you know what I will be doing: hanging out with Yetis and Speedwolves, while fashioning a catapult out of coconut trees. Really, not a bad way to waste a day or two.
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