Artist: Corrosion of Conformity
Title: Corrosion of Conformity
Type: Album
Label: Candlelight Records
Righto, put any doubt from your mind, I’m an old bastard. Yep, I’m 42. Too old to review and too old for metal some may cry. Well, I invite those nay-sayers to dare meet me in the pit after a few scrumpies; metal is not a unit of time, it’s a state of mind. That is equally true of the reformed and relaunched Corrosion of Conformity with their self titled album. The test? I received this band’s link to review and I remembered when I was young and first saw them on the ‘Voting With A Bullet’ tour, and then a couple of decades later and I was part of the establishment when I last saw them live, each time, despite radical line up and style changes, CoC were excellent!
I like expressive hardcore, hence my love of Animosity and Technocracy, a sound that owed at least as much to punk as it did metal, and was part of the early, thrashy, crossover scene populated by such acts as DRI. Equally, I love the Southern groove of Pepper’s Wiseblood period. For year after year, having last seen CoC when they played with Clutch and Stinking Lizaveta at the now demolished London Astoria, I’ve followed the band, and only missed 2011 revival shows because of circumstances beyond my control. So, what does this latest Bloodstock main staging slice of CoC bring with the return of the classic Animosity line up of Reed Mullen, Woody Weatherman, and Mike Dean taking over vocals again? The first opening Sabbathesque chords of ‘Psychic Vampire’ promise a pure stoner vibe, a sound that is jarred awake from its THC haze by a sudden blast of furious punk guitar work before settling down into mellower verse. That early anger again reigns in the frantic verse that punches through the mellow fog of the track, as CoC skilfully blend the two seemingly at odds periods of the band, even displaying some of their Southern Groove chops in the closing riffs.
Following hard on the opener’s heels is ‘River of Stone’, combining a traditional rock metal riff with complex and varied time changes that keeps the 6 minutes plus of the track evolving and mutating, bringing a feeling of Voivod to the sound. However, despite the complexity of the piece, it still sounds like it could be played live by the now three piece, with band members playing with a new intensity that maybe they didn’t need when the band had the extra guitar to fill out the sound. In contrast to this extended track is the follow up, ‘Leeches’ a two minute punk ear bashing that will have spike haired heads bobbing along with the band’s long haired metal fans in a flurry of leather and elbows. Amongst these rock blitzes is ‘El Lamento de las Cabras’ (The Lament of the Goats), a haunting instrumental that melds the darkest and most funereal tones of the true country sounds of the American desert. A dirty Seattle grunge sound is reference in ‘Newness’; metal swaggers to the front in ‘What We Become’; whilst punk group vocals and feedback run through the sprint of ‘Rat City’, each track with its own identity and own appeal, the fact that each is as unique as it is good showcasing this trios ability.
For track after track, this newly revitalised Corrosion of Conformity mix the assorted sounds that cover their now thirty year career, melding together stoner, metal, punk, Southern rock, and true hardcore, bringing to the album a combination of urgent new energy tempered with skill gained from years of playing. Almost 7 years have passed since the band’s last full length release ‘In The Arms of God’, and with Pepper being busy with Down, it is a tribute to CoC that they have come back with such a strong album. This eponymous album may well be their career defining release, offering something to fans of all the eras of the band, as well as sheer quality to attract the new listener.
(9/10. Spenny Bullen)
01/02/2012 at 9:10 am
I love what Keenan did with COC (you just have to read my profile here or dip into my blog to realise how much his work with this band has impacted on me) and, to me, “In The Arms Of God” is by far their finest hour. This self-titled most certainly rocks but it just doesn’t have the elephant-sized bollocks of Keenan-era COC. I even prefer Mullin’s lilting vocal to Dean’s treble-y howl. Wicked words though, Spenny, you old skool warrior!