Mr. Paul
Sounds like smashing an old lady in the face with a collection of boutique distortion pedals and a church pew, while trying to whitewater raft in a sieve. But in a good way.
Favorite track: Night of Blood in a World Without End.
Pay Dues Make Do
Nonpareil. inimitable. words that come to mind when the body is mentioned. you can try and make the same noises, it won't carry the same weight. the creation of a realm of their own. everyone is invited. the finished product seems to suggest that no ego went into the creative process. Creation as communion.
Favorite track: Bearer of Bad Tidings.
It has been said by more than a few intrepid listeners that The Body is the most brutal band on the planet. With ravishing grimness and impenetrable walls of noise, the duo of Chip King and Lee Buford create music that goes beyond what is normally considered harsh and violent, advocating a doctrine of misanthropy to those brave enough to take the plunge. Since their recording career began in earnest in 2004, The Body has expanded the definition of what it means to be a metal band, incorporating elements of noise, avant-garde composition, and experimental electronic music into their crushing doom and searing black metal foundation. Christs, Redeemers, the duo’s latest transmission of loathing and revulsion, finds King and Buford pushing even further into the horrifying unknown.
Christs, Redeemers conjures this atmosphere of foreboding and isolation sonically, lyrically, and visually. The album opens with washes of sound and one forlorn voice penetrating the ether before launching into the brutal, ghostly dirge of “To Attempt Openness,” featuring frequent collaborators the Assembly of Light Choir. Unexpected bursts of noise, generated by guitars and electronics, puncture any sense of comfort or complacency and eerie samples float from the ether. King and Buford masterfully use the spectral space between the sounds to create almost unimaginable tension, employing silence as effectively as they do cacophony. This restraint, the knowledge of when to punish with volume and when to punish with the absence thereof, bestows the moments of fury with gravity.
King’s screams are the centerpiece of the band’s aesthetic: panic-stricken and distraught, constantly on the verge of breaking. His lyrics are no less unhinged. On the album’s colossal closer “Bearer of Bad Tidings,” he shrieks “Life worthless and devoid of any meaning…all the world a grave.” Buford’s drums act as both a stabilizer and instigator of the madness, at times pushing the proceedings further into oblivion and others providing a lifeline for the listener as the guitars and electronics deliberately push you toward the brink.
The album was recorded at Machines With Magnets in Pawtucket, RI, where The Body has recorded all previous album releases. During the recording process King and Buford play the double role of players and auteurs, bringing in a diverse group of collaborators, from the aformentioned Assembly of Light Choir to noise musician Work/Death and Ryan Seaton of Callers, to realize their hell scapes. They will be touring the US extensively in the fall.
supported by 112 fans who also own “Christs, Redeemers”
I love the light and shade between Bryan's dirty and Emma's forlorn vocals. There are so many layers to this recording that are driven home through contrast. Plus the riffs are brilliant and get me moving. I can't stop listening to Thou and Emma in general lately. spaceman2250
supported by 105 fans who also own “Christs, Redeemers”
One of the most unsettling albums i have heard in a while. Chat Pile creates a grotesque blend of noise and groove that brings me back everytime. scarface6204