Big Mess/Black Norse
Split Tape
Salty Speakers
The blues come in myriad forms these days -both in life and tape decks. Existence isn’t sweet without the sour and on the new Black Norse/Big Mess split tape, the noisy post-doom blues and pummeling stoner blues are pretty damn sweet. It’s been years since their last releases, but these 6-tracks mark a return for two bands whose numerous other projects and geographic locations have somewhat capped their output and gigs. Somehow they not only never lose a step, but here we find Big Mess and Black Norse at the top of their respective games.
Big Mess’s contribution is an instrumental war of attrition that veers between jarring post-hardcore, sludgy chords and hints of mathrock that might resemble a cross between Unsane and Unwound. The droning, doom-inspired riffage is notable, but it’s so often betrayed by noisy, dissonant chords and angular notes that render the “doom” or “drone” tags wholly inadequate.
On the opener, “The Cutting Edge of Puppetry,” Olivia Close’s earthquake of a bass line sets the pace while Nick Wiedeman’s jagged guitar notes and chords cut a path upon which we know they’ll eventually join forces. Like pounding railroad spikes, they repeatedly bludgeon a few chords while Nick Egersheim’s relentless floor tom thunders along. The rattling, overdriven bass powers the song behind a wall of low end noise, but Wiedeman’s lines and flourishes are far cleaner and free to roam -it’s a powerful and deceptively melodic recipe. In the ender, “Song for Bella,” they work over a simple, yet potent progression to the point where it’s practically unrecognizable -building in layers of notes that continually collide and amalgamate, evolving into a new twisted heap of noise. While droning can sound like there’s simply no destination and no pace, Big Mess constructs sounds and tears them down in a way that’s far more purposeful and experiential.
Not to be outdone, Black Norse returns with a crushing trio of stoner gems to blow minds and eardrums. The sheer enormity of the recording is immediate and impressive. 7 years in, the duo’s song pacing has slowed a bit and their bluesy riffs thickened -mostly shedding the punk-influenced, noisy metal that dominated their last full length recording. Here, they still channel early Kyuss but with a more polished 70’s influence that recalls a burly version of The Sword. Guitar/vocalist Ben Troy is a songwriting wrecking machine and working with Dean Baltulonis at Wild Arctic studios provided even greater access to the raw power and sonic potential that Black Norse were meant to fulfill.
Troy’s vocals -a ghostly, reverb-laden take on Soundgarden’s Chris Cornell- aren’t just held notes above the riffs, but a lynch pin that provides distinction from others in the stoner metal genre. We could name a dozen influences from grunge to post metal to psych rock that make up Black Norse’s distinguished sound, but by any measure, their 3 dynamic songs are expertly crafted. While it’s possible to get lost in their crushing, bass-driven vibrations, the repetitive parts don’t last long -so this isn’t really that kind of high. Black Norse is the stoner who wants to go do shit, and listening to their side of the tape, that shit might be something like riding a roller coaster standing up. The sheer number of guitar and bass tracks on the recording, combined with spirited songwriting and tempo changes, create an intense, swerving narrative that makes passivity impossible. Their opener “Hell Fire,” lives up to its name by letting loose an onslaught of sensory overloading guitars and towering vocals amidst Ryan Harrison’s frenzied drumming. By contrast, “White” begins an airy meditation in which that roller coaster ride finally smoothes out -momentarily. Only to rocket off the tracks again with an echoed scream into melodic free fall that ends with a breakdown and guitar lead that burns like atmospheric re-entry -ala Acid King’s Lori S. May the ride never end.
Black Norse and Big Mess celebrate the tape’s release w/Green Bastard and INNIS this Saturday May 21st at The Brickhouse in Dover, NH.
MID DECAY 