German post-rockers Shipwrecks released their eponymous three track EP back in 2015. I don’t remember how I stumbled upon it, but it was good enough to impress.
Without wanting to sound too much like a jaded old critic, let’s just say that it is becoming harder to find bands that truly stand out and excite within the post-rock genre. Shipwrecks managed to do so with just three songs.
Those three songs did them proud, earning them support slots touring Europe with Immanu El and Explosions In The Sky.
Two years later, they’ve followed up with a début album – also self titled.
Recording Shipwrecks is a romantic tale of a band locking themselves away in a remote cabin to write and rehearse. They’re a band that sticks to a DIY ethos to do as much as they could in-house. The guitarist oversaw recording and producing. David Caspar, the drummer collected earthy mixed media to make the striking album art. The band used old vintage equipment to capture those warm, rich tones. It almost sounds like a wholesome movie montage.
Not afraid to take their time, the band craft their build-ups. Because, as is the case with most post-rock, this is about long songs full of crescendos.
I find it difficult picking a stand-out track. All of them offer similar things, each with their own little nuances. Long, deliberate, and full of hope. Except the song “Maelstrom”, which feels more ominous than the rest of the tracks. It sounds like you’d expect from something with that name. Listen carefully and you’ll hear murky depths, with something deep underwater bubbling away.
I love the drumming on this album. Regular readers will know that I often focus on the drumming because I am a drummer myself. And this is my style of playing: hard hitting. Not fancy or technical, but packing a punch. Hit with purpose and allow the music space to breathe. There are distinct moments I hear that make me smile, like the when Caspar hits the bright ride bell *ping!* in “Monument”, or playing *dahdahdah DAH* around the kit in “Home”. And of course, he loves to throw in plenty of snare rolls.
As much as I love running a music blog, I find it hard to come up with new ways to describe music. I listen to (and write about) a lot of post-rock and so much of it blurs together. Some quiet picking, rising swells, big crescendo… Which band is this again? And without wanting to unfairly name names, I feel that some of the major players in the scene have released fairly uninspiring and forgettable records in recent years.
Shipwrecks have done well to stand out in a saturated scene. Only two releases in, and they already have a reputation.
Like their name suggests, when you stumble upon Shipwrecks, you’ve found something special. Like a precious sunken treasure, offering knowing references to a rich past. Building upon their influences, Shipwecks offer something familiar, yet not contrived. Nothing groundbreaking – just done well.
I’m a sucker for dystopian texts. It all started at high school, when we read Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World for English. For such an old work of literature, it was remarkably accurate at predicting how the world would change. I adopted this genre wholeheartedly, seeking out similar texts like George Orwell’s 1984 and Animal Farm.
In this current era of militant nationalism and the revival of Nazism, I think that the more people are exposed to dystopian allegories, the better. They offer insight into how things will turn out if we refuse to keep our leaders accountable.
Clearly Prague post-metal band Diary Of My Misanthropy agree. Originally a solo project from Vladyslav Tsarenko, Diary Of My Misanthropy is now a full band, who have just released their dystopian-themed third album, Leviathan.
Ngake and Whātaitai the taniwha. Taken from the book The Taniwha of Wellington Harbour, by Moira Wairama. Illustration by Bruce Potter
For a digital-only release, Leviathan sure boasts some beautiful artwork. Images depict the skeleton of a Loch Ness monster-looking beast sitting upon a rocky lakeshore, looking out through the fog to an isolated cottage.
It reminds me of the local Māori myth of Ngake and Whātaitai, two taniwha (sea monsters) who – according to legend – formed the geology of Wellington harbour where I live. Whātaitai, the less adventurous of the two, tried to follow his friend and escape for the lake where he lived, only to become trapped at the mouth of the newly formed harbour, forced to helplessly watch as the land around him evolved.
The rest of the liner notes tell a story. During a dream you meet the beast, and he shows you the world, and how humanity has doomed it. On top of the story, the liner notes also prominently feature two quotes: one from the Black Mirror TV series, and another from Jacque Fresco. I am not familiar with either, so did some research. Both Black Mirror and Fresco ask us to critically examine how we use technology, and ask if we like the humanity is headed.
I’m currently reading Kurt Vonnegut’s first novel, Player Piano. Anyone familiar with Vonnegut will know that he is the master of blending sci-fi with satire, using his wicked wit as easily digestible critique. Player Piano is set in a post-World War America run by super computers and machines. Although the mechanical revolution was first seen as “progress”, the automation of industry left most citizens without work, and thus fulfillment, creating a society sitting on unrest. Without knowing too much about Black Mirror or Jacque Fresco, I can draw marked parallels between their works and Player Piano.
I recently saw a band Staghorn play in St Loius. Like Diary Of My Misanthropy, Staghorn also boasted a post-apocalyptic theme set to post-rock. Staghorn had a spoken word narrative advancing their story as they played. Thinking of this, I assumed that Diary Of My Misanthropy would also have samples featured in their songs. It is a common post-rock convention, after all. Take Lost in Kiev, Platonick Dive and Maybeshewill, for example.
Surprisingly, despite writing a narrative to go with the album, the band doesn’t include them in their songs. We do, however, hear two spoken words quotes. And to be honest, as much as I expected some more spoken word, I think the album could have worked better without any at all. Fresco’s quote in “War Is Peace” hardly stands out in the mix. And the segment on “Black Mirror” – which borrows from the TV show of the same name – is abrasive and serves to interrupt rather than enhance the listening experience. I’m not a complete prude, but the excessive swearing feels gratuitous.
The music is great. Post-metal with influences drawn from doom, industrial, and (dare I say it?) nu-metal. The trio layer their sounds with expertise to create depth and dynamics.
They traverse the spectrum well, from lush textured moments to heavy overdriven segments. Chuggy doom-laden riffs sit next to glitchy electro-beats. Pleasant guitar strumming turns into a monstrous solo as soon as evolving back into padded swells. I can’t fault it.
The mix between high and low-end balance out well. I dislike when “heavy” music focuses too much on bass and distortion.And Diary Of My Misanthropy are heavy, but strike a balance with high-pitched guitar, keys and brighter drum cymbals bringing in treble.
As a drummer, I find the drumming tasteful and interesting – articulate, smart. I like how the keys are played like an actual piano – more organic sounding that the synths that dominate most music these days. Not to say this sounds “natural” – there are plenty of effects playing havoc with tones – but the overall mix sounds crisp. It sounds like people playing instruments with the help of technology, not computers making music with human input.
As was the case in my Masters Of This Land review, I feel that my analyzing of the politics and themes behind this body of work is perhaps overbearing. I’m drawing comparisons to literature and mythology at the expense of critiquing the actual music. However, I wonder: does this signify quality in art? I’m engaging with it at a deeper level, making connections to other works and reading into possible meanings. Great art demands interaction; is evocative, which is the antithesis to passiveness.
Leviathan is excellent. I can endorse the music, artwork and themes. If you feel compelled to check it out, take time to read through the liner notes for the full experience.
Adam Page has brought so much joy to my life that I feel the need to coin an award just to express how he makes me feel.
I still remember the first time I saw him. It was at a bar called Lido on Victoria street, which is now under construction. My friend Sam invited me along, and seeing how Sam’s recommendations are always trustworthy, I made a point of coming. It was weird in a way, because there was no charge for admission – just buy something to eat or drink to support the venue.
Adam led the trio. He largely stuck to vocals and saxophone, but also employed other odd instruments like kazoo and shakers and melodica – just to spice up the sound. He kept his band on their toes, turning to the drummer and saying “give me a disco beat at this pace”, clapping to count him in. Ed Zuccollo was on mini moog, closely watching Adam for key changes. Adam would shout out something like “and now for a solo in the key of E!”, putting Ed on the spot and forcing him to improvise.
It was a brilliant example of great musicianship. Unrehearsed, but still incredibly good.
The highlight of the night was when Adam launched into the Lion King theme song, belting out the African lyrics with intense passion. I found it so funny that I almost fell off my chair, tears rolling down my face with laughter. Adam even paused the song to check that I was OK.
Adam played a series of these gigs over the next month of so, always a free mid-afternoon improvised show at local bars and cafes. Always a complete joy to watch.
I remember him opening for comedy-rockers The Beards the first time the came to Wellington. I think they had some history, both coming from Adelaide. Adam had all the vital ingredients anyway: musical talent, a wicked sense of humour, and a beard. Using a looping pedal and a microphone, he played a set of songs that comprised of beat boxing and beard noises.
Beard noises? Well, when he pull on one long hair it made a high-pitched sound. When he brushed a comb through his follicles percussively, it made a beat. It sounds unbelievable, but he pulled it off.
Another show of note was at Puppies or Happy [I can’t remember which name the venue had at the time]. It was a Star Wars themed gig, to tie in with May the Fourth. Everyone in the band was dressed up as a Star Wars character, with Page dressed in a Boba Fett outfit that was far too small for him, giving him a major wedgie. Ah, the sacrifices we make for music!
I remember one individual was dressed in the infamous sexy slave Leia outfit. Said individual was a guy.
It was a fun night, a gathering of nerds and music lovers. The band ran through hits like “Imperial March” and that fun Cantina tune, adding fun twists to the covers.
It was a glorious period when Adam Page lived in Wellington. The name Adam Page was synonymous with fun times, and those times were frequent. He comes back now and again, often for Fringe festival.
Adam plays weird, but good music. He’s known for his improv looping sets. He released an album of Native American flute songs. He also featured on Name UL’s debut EP.
Adam personifies musical talent. You never know what to expect from one of his shows because they’re so spontaneous. He doesn’t stick to genre or convention, he just plays well and has fun. He’s such a gifted goofball. If you get the chance to see Adam Page live, do it! I guarantee you’ll have a great time.
And that is why Adam Page is the recipient of the 2018 Will Not Fade Award for Awesomeness!
I feel that I need to explain my choice of attire.
Yesterday I posted on Instagram about how I was so excited for the Guitar Wolf gig at Meow tonight, and that I was planning on wearing my finest Hawaiian shirt. Someone from the band Hiboux commented, asking if this was a thing.
In short: no. But there is a weird rationale behind my decision.
You see, this is my third time seeing Guitar Wolf live. The first time was at Bodega. It was the night after seeing Foo Fighters at Western Springs in Auckland – at the time easily the best live act I’d seen. And as amazing as the large-scale Foo Fighters concert was, Guitar Wolf came damned close to topping them in terms of putting on a phenomenal live music experience.
One of the highlights of that night was when the singer pulled me up on stage to join a human pyramid. Another was when he pulled up a guy with a large beard and Hawaiian shirt. He handed his guitar to our lumberjack-looking friend, compelled him to “feel the rock” and instructed him to strum out.
The second time I saw Guitar Wolf was at Mighty Mighty – another defunct Wellington venue. And lo and behold, the same guy – wearing the same Hawaiian shirt and rocking the same awesome beard – was pulled onstage to feel the rock and play guitar. This second time I figured out that he was selected because he won a thumb wrestle.
I vowed to myself that next time, I would like to win the thumb wrestle and transform into a rock god onstage, under tutelage from Japan’s finest. And just to somehow enhance my odds, I decided to dress the same as the lumberjack dude. My thought process doesn’t make much sense, but oh well.
I’m lucky I even made it to the gig. After a long week at work I was knackered. I work as a preschool teacher, and the combination of heat, hay fever and loud children had given me a severe headache. I decided to have a short nap when I got home.
Turns out I needed that nap more than I’d realised. I woke up at 10pm – four hours later! I quickly threw on the all-important Hawaiian shirt and raced down to Meow. I’d missed the opening acts, but thankfully got to the gig in time for the main act.
And what a beautiful sight it was. Three grown men onstage wearing leather jackets and velociraptor masks. The guitarist cracked a can of beer open and emptied it into the mouth of the dinosaur.
Image: Kay Hoddy
After a short intro track the trio ditched their dino masks. Seiji led the trio on vocals and guitar. He wore wraparound sunglasses and was dripping with sweat for most of the set. Half of the appeal of Guitar Wolf is their energy, and Seiji injects so much of his personality into the show – making exaggerated expressions and motions as he plays. Toru kept the beat on drums, and frantically combed his hair back – rockabilly style – between songs. They also had a new bass player – Hikaru. I remember previous bassist, U.G. had taken to his bass guitar with a saw, cutting off the bottom portion that he didn’t need, seeing as he only played three strings. Hikaru was great, energetically flicking his hair around, and supporting on vocals.
Guitar Wolf are not for everyone. They take cues from punk, rock, rockabilly and garage to create their unique “jet rock n’ roll” – think Japanese Ramones. They’re ear-splittingly loud, with plenty of feedback and distortion. And they’re fast too. OK, so they’re not the tightest act out, but why let technical ability get in the way of a good show?
Seiji had good banter – or at least from what I could understand. He made a shout out “my cousin, Prime Minister of New Zealand” during their cover of “Summertime Blues”. He asked if we had boyfriends/girlfriends/both, before teaching us how to love. He also asked the crowd what the highest mountain in New Zealand is, which had him stumped when he couldn’t understand the name Aoraki.
The pick of destiny. Image: Kay Hoddy
If you can’t tell yet, the show was great. I had the best time.
Like, literally.
BECAUSE THE HAWAIIAN SHIRT WORKED!!!
Ok, so maybe it wasn’t the shirt. But I accomplished my goal.
As soon as Seiji removed his guitar strap I knew my time had come. He thrust his arm out into the crowd and I raced forward to grab his hand. He didn’t thumb wrestle me as I’d expected, but I clung on hard, trying to gain favour with him.
Seiji pulled me onstage, gave me his guitar, turning a knob so that the volume maxed out, squealing with feedback. Then he placed a guitar pick in my hand, raising it high above me head in a classic rock star stance. He shouted instructions my ear. To be honest I can’t even remember what he said – I was on such a buzz – but the gist is that I had to rock out.
I began strumming in time with the band. I’m not a guitarist and had no idea about chords, so I just played open, with my hand resting lightly on the strings on the neck to prevent too much feedback. My apologies to those who attended and had to put up with the cacophony I cause.
Seiji instructed me as I played. I don’t know if I understood correctly, but he guided me to wait, before strumming when he cued me. The next challenge was to jump in time with the band as we played. They all crouched down and I followed their lead, unsure of my role.
Image: Kay Hoddy
I have no idea how long I was on stage, but I was having the time of my life. I had bloody fingers and knuckles from the sharp guitar strings, but I didn’t care – it was worth it. At one point I noticed that one of the guitar strings had broken, and I wondered if I had done that, or had Seiji broken it earlier?
To finish, Seiji held me and pulled me down to the floor of the stage, removing the guitar from me. A man at the front of the crowd grabbed my legs and hoisted me up, and next thing I know, I was crowd surfing. It was unnerving, but I felt supported and nobody dropped me.
Image: Kay Hoddy
The rest of the set was great. People congratulated me on my newfound rock god status. Guitar Wolf kept playing their furious music. It was fun.
They left the stage, before coming on with an encore of a few more songs, and Seiji wrapped up with a second, solo encore.
Guitar Wolf prove that a rock show needs to be exactly that – a show! They have the look, the attitude, and the energy – as well as the music. If you get the chance to see Guitar Wolf in action, do it! Just don’t forget your earplugs!
Rock and roll!
Guitar Wolf have three more dates in New Zealand:
Saturday 25th November, Whammy Bar, Auckland
Sunday 26th November, Kewpie Party Boat, Tauranga
Monday 27th November, Secret Show, West Auckland
Philadelphia post-metallers Rosetta have recently released their sixth album entitled Utopioid [Will Not Fade review here] – a portmanteau of Utopia and Opioid. Utopioid is a concept album composed of four distinct sections that explore the extremes of texture and dynamic. It is also the band’s third independent release, offered for pay-what-you-want on Bandcamp. This is an interesting move in the current age of streaming, but the band not only recouped recording costs, but also achieved top-selling status on Bandcamp.
Believing Utopioid to be an album worth hearing live, Rosetta just underwent an extensive tour across North America. After a short break, they will embark on another tour throughout Asia and Oceania in a month.
Will Not Fade’s Joseph James chatted with guitarist Eric Jernigan about the album, the band’s philosophy, and touring.
Will Not Fade: Obviously you have reason to be proud of your latest record. What sets Utopioid apart from the other albums for you?
Eric Jernigan: Thank you! This is the first time everyone opened his contributions to direct criticism from another. As always the primary focus was to create something that spoke to us as individuals. But we also learned that each one of us does better work in collaboration, challenging as that process may have been at times.
With the four parts of the album, did you write each separate section in sequence, or did you write everything and then arrange them by mood? Because this album is cyclical, so I was wondering about the order it was written in.
We dedicated certain blocks of time to each movement, but if the creative fire went dark for a certain section we allowed ourselves to explore new ideas or tweak existing songs based on what we were in the mood for. Can’t waste time after all.
Does coming up with a concept make writing music easier or harder?
I think musically speaking many concept albums are born haphazardly and later sequenced to fit the story at the artist’s convenience. We avoided that by drawing the map for the concept shortly after we finished the first song structure, and we stuck to it religiously. It made certain aspects of writing feel more cumbersome, but we know it produced our strongest work to date.
Tone, texture and timbre are clearly important to you. What are some ways you try to achieve these things?
I’ve found lately that purposefully limiting the number of tools at my disposal can force some extra creativity to the surface.
To continue that discussion of collaboration, who’s idea was it to create the remixes of your songs included on A Dead-Ender’s Reunion? How does it feel hearing someone else’s take on music you wrote?
We’ve been friends with Will Benoit (Living Phantoms) for many years and deeply admire his work as both a producer and a songwriter. It’s a real treat to hear your music filtered through the mind of a respected peer.
With the recent record, you stressed that this was worth hearing live, and have tried to tour it more widely. Is it hard living on the road so much?
As long as we remain cognizant of the privilege inherent in sharing our music with audiences around the world it’s not hard. No one likes operating on minimal sleep for 30 days straight or sitting upright in a van for hours on end, but the reward is worth the effort.
How was the American tour you just finished?
It helped remind us we live in an unbelievably beautiful country. We found a few hours to visit Yellowstone National Park on a cold day in late October and saw a bunch of geysers, a herd of bison, and a pack of wolves. And then of course we ruminated on the crushing power of the supervolcano lurking beneath us.
What are you expecting from the upcoming Asia/Australia/NZ tour? You’ve chosen a good time of year as we are coming into summer.
It’s been 5 years since we were in Australia and all the rest of the territory is brand new for us. Couldn’t be more excited. Hoping as always to find extra time to meet interesting people and check out whatever sights we can manage.
sleepmakewaves are opening for you in Australia, and Spook The Horses in NZ. They are strong bands, and I actually thought sleepmakeswaves showed up This Will Destroy you when I saw them play together once [Review]. What is your process for choosing support acts?
Actually we’re the support for sleepmakeswaves in Australia, so we built the rest of the tour around that. Spook the Horses have been on our radar thanks to Robin from The Ocean and Pelagic Records, so we were stoked when our NZ agent suggested them. In general we aim to travel with bands who push music somewhere new and hope to make friends along the way.
I recently attended dunk!festival in Vermont, where Pelican and Junius were among the top billing acts. One thing I noticed is that they appear to have more cross appeal than many other bands who played the festival because they cross from post-metal through to doom/sludge territory. But then there was also Russian Circle, who don’t have vocals, and still have managed to achieve similar success. I realise that when Rosetta formed, the idea of post-rock/post-metal wasn’t so prevalent, but do you think that including vocals affects how accessible you are as a band?
To be honest accessibility has never been among our goals so we don’t spend much time thinking about it. Many of our friends in prominent instrumental bands receive unsolicited offers from random singers no one’s ever heard of: “Hey, obviously you left out vocals because you just haven’t found the right front person yet.” Likewise I’m sure there’s a contingency of people who’d prefer we didn’t incorporate screamed and/or sung vocals. Truth is none of that has any bearing on what we create.
After parting with Translation Loss Records, all your albums have been released independently. Talk me through that decision. How does staying independent compare to the option of re-signing to a label?
Translation Loss is a great label that helped us out immensely over the years. Independence simply gives us a more direct line to our listeners and vice versa. We value that connection.
If you were to give advice to a band starting out, would you still recommend the DIY route?
There’s no other way for a young band as far as I know!
When you first decided to offer your music at a pay-what-you-want price, did you expect to earn enough to cover recording costs? Has this helped you gain more exposure?
No, there was a lot of trepidation within the band on the eve of the release of The Anaesthete. We’re lucky to have a wide-ranging group of supporters who understand that music and art are valuable. I doubt it’s helped us gain more exposure, but who’s to say?
How does it feel to have gained best-selling status on Bandcamp?
We are immensely proud of that achievement. Again, we owe that honor to our fan base for their contributions.
Bandcamp offers different formats like FLAC and WAV, and I noted that you recently re-uploaded Utopioid at a higher res.. Do you care about how people access your music (iTunes, Spotify, Google Play etc…)?
For me the idea of caring about how people access our music is tantamount to exploring how people devote their attention to the consumption of music in general. If caring means I wish people would actively listen to our records rather than stream them from Youtube while reading pointless articles online, then yes. But I also recognize music serves different purposes for everyone.
Do many people still buy the physical albums when they are made available? Is there still a demand of supposedly outdated media like cassette tapes?
Yeah, with each album we expect more digital and less physical but demand for CDs and vinyl is actually increasing. We manufactured a small run of cassettes for Utopioid and have been psyched to see them selling through our Bandcamp page and at shows.
I see that you have offered bonus tracks on a few albums for the Japanese editions. Now that the internet opens up access to a global audience, do you feel that you still have separate markets based on location?
That’s a good question. For the most part I think the internet has effectively leveled things in that respect. Nonetheless, it’s tradition in Japan to have some bonus material on a CD. So far we’ve always had the extra tracks around so it’s fun to release them with a great label like Tokyo Jupiter.
Rosetta has been around for 14 years now. How does being in a band now compare to back when you started?
As you might expect the responsibilities of life outside the band weigh a little heavier these days. Luckily the balance is manageable for the most part.
Rosetta Asia/Oceania Tour dates
29/11 Kaohsiung TW – Paramount Bar
30/11 Taichung TW – Sound Live House
01/12 Taipei TW – Revolver
02/12 Singapore SG – Analog Factory
03/12 Kuala Lumpur MY – Rumah Api
05/12 Perth WA – Badlands
06/12 Adelaide SA – UniBar
07/12 Melbourne VIC – Howler
08/12 Brisbane QLD – The Zoo
09/12 Sydney NSW – Oxford Art Factory
12/12 Wellington NZ – Valhalla
13/12 Auckland NZ – Ding Dong Lounge
15/12 Launceston TAS – Greenwood Bar
16/12 Hobart TAS – Brisbane Hotel