(Independent) 

Blues-rock revival

Victorian three-piece Black Devil Yard Boss breathe new life into Australian blues-rock with their debut EP. Although this is their first release, they’re no angsty ensemble straight out of their parents’ garage. It’s tightly orchestrated music by experienced musicians, with some members coming from Mammal and others from Pete Murray’s Stonemasons. The group have developed an individual sound to go along with the unique name. Pete Williamson’s vocals are raspy in all the right ways, really emphasising that devil-may-care attitude. The riffs in Into Your Fire and Fiver In My Pocket are something you could only hope to replicate on Guitar Hero. When combined with drum and bass lines that tie the guitar and vocals together perfectly, it’s nearly impossible to sit still when listening. It makes you want to dance, jump, smash a guitar, just do something. It’s a promising, energised and catchy debut from a band that I’m betting would be even better live.

CHELSEA HEANEY

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(Independent)

Exuberant genre fusion

I’m sure this was not the intention, but some of the songwriting in The Definition Of... is so condensed that it allows for a cool peculiarity: frontwoman Sian Evans sometimes talk-raps. This is particularly distinctive in the album’s initial tracks. It adds to their already three-headed beast – gypsy-jazz, diva bluegrass, R&B folk – all very ear-friendly crossbreeds. Even when Evans lets down the dreadlocks and advocates for Mother Earth and shampoo-tested chimpanzees (Concrete, Paper, Plastic), she’s conscious not to crease the folds of her warm velvety poise, translucent in tracks such as Woman and Cliché. Her deep, clear vocals are the obvious centrepiece of the album, with a troupe of sliding brass and drumsticks hop-stepping to her swinging rhythm. In Did You Ever?, shades of Fiona Apple blur into Evans’ own husky groans, and even the theme of ever-failing relationships seems the same – the difference being Evans sings with voluptuous confidence, not skinny-girl naiveté.

ALICE REZENDE

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(Tee Pee)

Progalicious

LA five-piece Ancestors make slow-burning, elongated prog-metal. At times they do it pretty well. Unfortunately this album, even by prog standards, is too big and cumbersome to enjoy with any consistency. At 70 minutes, with four of its eight tracks coming in at 13 minutes-plus, Of Sound Mind is a big ask. It’s not the length I object to, just that they don’t do a whole lot with it. Where Mastodon or The Mars Volta operate within tight structures on their own labyrinthine efforts, Ancestors spread out and meander. Sometimes this works for them, when they dwell on a good riff or find a knot of tension between guitar and organs, but more often than not their use of space is at best inefficient, at worst boring. Justin Maranga’s vocals are the weak link, and all the best moments occur when he’s not singing, like the rather beautiful instrumental Challenging or the bubbling electronic ambience that introduces The Trial. There is some talent in Ancestors, but Of Sound Mind obscures it instead of amplifying it.

MICHAEL PINCOTT

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(Shock)

Will make you proud to be American

You’re a country fan. You appreciate the song as a storytelling medium. When the chips are down, you find solace in its tales of heartbreak, rural spirit and working-class woe. You understand it’s not about the musical variety, but the heart and soul of the performer. You can sense this strength in the work of Kevin Welch. You recognise his worldly lyrical craftsmanship (“Kurosawa was a samurai, Achilles was a gimp”) as a cut far above the rest. You admire the emotional power of his drawl and the dexterity of his acoustic twanging. You look past the glaring genre clichés and pay this very serious and personal record due respect, listening from start to finish with a straight face. And you sure as hell aren’t reading a Brisbane street press for music recommendations.

ALASTAIR CRAIG

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(Masif/Stomp)

Rebooted sounds coming from the Hill

The latest Hard Trance Bootlegs comp reinstates Sydney-via-UK’s Steve Hill and the obscured Masif DJs for another round of hard remixes inspired by classic progressive and uplifting tracks – not a hard guess really, since Hill owns the brand and basically lives for this type of thing. Hill’s solo disc is a credible effort; while you’d expect the thing to be full of cheesy remixes – and make no mistake, there are a few – it sounds like a reasonable attempt to keep things at a fun club level, without making the same mistakes other brands seem to constantly make at both programming and technical levels. As for the Masif DJ disc – well, if divas, classic JP melodies and stiff percs appeal to you, you’re going to love those 78 minutes. Though derivative of late night big-room jaunts, Hill remixes pepper both discs, giving at least the illusion of exclusivity; also, the control he exerts over this comp is definitely in the listener’s favour, compared to dance brands being distributed on the majors.

SCOTTY HARMS

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(Independent/MGM Distribution)

Dark industrial tones from a band left reeling

Album three has been four long years in the making for Perth’s Crimes of the Primary. Following the death of guitarist Sean Brindle in late 2008, rather than call it quits, the industrial act’s remaining members saw the project through. The resulting 10-track is a dark, hypnotic affair shrouded in distortion and cold vocals. That’s not to call it a cold album though; the mixture of sung, spoken and digitally manipulated songlines do provide variation. The instrumental side of things can sometimes get a little bogged down, however – particularly the slower tracks like Lucky Boy and He Beds In, which are trudging industrial electronica. The title track’s heavier rock passages and the NIN-esque One Thousand Words inject needed energy, and Another Crisis, with its keys and synths, is almost tender. COTP describe World Class as “one for the stoners”. That’s not far off the mark, but check your anxiety at the door.

NILS HAY

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