A long time ago, in a post (zip) code far, far away, I was just a simple, dedicated reader of Heavy Blog. When it got to the weekend and there were no posts, I didn’t know where else to go on the Internet. For reals. Back then, I really loved the Best of British feature. It was always interesting to see what the home nations had to offer, especially in comparison to the more dominant US and European markets. I shed a single British tear on the day of the last ever Best of British post. It was salty.
Guess what though? Best of British is back! Yours truly will be picking some of the choicest acts from these parts and compiling them into a nifty little post for you guys to pick apart and, inevitably, love with all of your beautiful hearts. On this, the debut edition of the new and improved feature, I’m looking at a trio of acts from the city I spend most of my social life in. A city known as much for the foul inhabitants as it is the cultural hot spots. This is Glasgow. ‘mon then.
This five piece play the sweetest style of melodic hardcore you’ll find this side of the Atlantic. Every blown out scream and whispered lament is wrought with genuine emotion. It’s not often you’ll find me sticking on the “sappy” stuff so take it is a big deal that this lot can keep me interested. Boysetsfire and Mogwai meet at a crossroads on their wonderful Four Seasons release. Each of the four have their own vibe and bite, which is surprising because every fucking season in Scotland is the same. Grey weather, raincoats and wet shoes are maybe partly to blame for the mood of these gentlemen. Whatever is bringing Rainfalls down doesn’t really matter though, they’ve turned these negatives into some vibrant, charming hardcore. Check out the acoustic versions of the Four Seasons for added feels.
Hilarious lyrics? Turn of the century nu-metal synths crashing all over the place? Big, grindy death metal riffs? It can only be Mortuary Gangbang. This faceless group of Glaswegians are deviants of the highest echelon, blasting classic Slipknot grooves over the aforementioned nu-metal whips and cracks. Throw in some of the funniest lyrical content I’ve ever cast my perverted eyes on and would you look at that? Instant gratification from musicians with one goal; to play some fucking heavy tunes and piss themselves laughing too. “My Dad, The Prostitute” really does have to be heard to be believed. Now, if you’re thinking about writing them off because of the crude artwork or the offensive (if you’re a shite artist) content of Morgueasmic, then move on. Consider growing a funny bone or maybe get down to the corner and make yourself useful.
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Now. Instrumental music is probably even further down my pecking order of genres than melodic hardcore. I can’t pay attention normally without someone screaming or crying directly into my head holes. Vasa can hold my attention and then some. This ensemble of musos veer far from the all too quiet land of post rock. The quiet to loud dynamic is present but the dynamics involved in this lot’s particular brand of jam keep everything moving forward and upward. Wicked, piercing guitars and jangly bass tones are huge and bombastic in the most complimentary manner to the driving beats that crash all over the shop. With a full length due any minute now, Vasa are also hitting up ArcTangent festival; making waves all over the place, these chaps from the cholesterol capital of the country are.
So, that about does it for the first Best of British post in some time. Dig what you hear? Go give these guys some love. Don’t rate them at all? Aim your grievances at me and let me now below who I should be listening to. Really, I love hearing new music so fire your one man grind projects at me, even your three synth power metal band. I’m all ears baby.