TACTICAL PAGAN – S/T

Industrial music has always seemed to take a backseat to other styles & genres. Ministry changed everyone’s outlook on it in the 90s but that was short-lived before it was sent back into the underground. But in darkness, there’s growth as well and industrial has shifted and blended into a wide range of other genres to create unique amalgamations of music we probably won’t ever hear again. Some have hit the dance floor while others might be found conjoined within Hip Hop. Either way, we still find semblances of it everywhere.

Tactical Pagan (GIVE/TAKE | Avalanche Recordings) is the project helmed by Andy Swan, who has found solace within the digital electronic industrial world. There are levels to this and it’s not a game. Tactical Pagan takes its lead and influences from a number of sources just like its contemporaries, but for the most part, the self-titled release contains a wave of sound bites that’s chill, eerie, and filled with head-nodding beats, all of which don’t conform to any one standard of play. One thing I do have to say though is Tactical Pagan’s album, when not focusing on it, doubles as background music. While there are negative connotations to that remark, it shouldn’t be taken that way as far as this is concerned. I thought about that while listening to “Looking For Weapons” while I was working on a few things. This one is unexpected, with its thumping bass drum that’s soon textured with a distorted bass rhythm before guitar notes come into play. The track itself revolves around a few simple notes BUT! it entrances with its fluidity. It’s quite mesmerizing as vocal samples bleed in and out. If there’s a favorite track on this album, this just might be it. There’s a sense of nostalgia as far as Tactical Pagan is concerned. Swan’s early career began in the 80s and spread on through to the 90s so it makes sense as he unapologetically cites Throbbing Gristle, Cabaret Voltaire, and Whitehouse as inspiration for his own music but at this point, that’s neither here nor there.

There’s more of the same throughout the album, like “State Curfew,” only this time the drum pattern seems more intentional as do those keyboard notes pulling slightly from Ska rhythms. It’s offset by sinister bass notes that are all too inviting. Again, whether listening intently or relegating its duties to serve in the rear, you’ll find the infectious rhythm clawing for your eventual attention. That bassline is life itself. Tactical Pagan is well, tactical in its delivery of songs and neither one sounds remotely like the other. Sure, they may follow the same formula or pattern but they’re distinct. Tactical Pagan focuses much on repetition and that’s the bread and butter here but one thing this isn’t is repetitious. “Trace” takes a different approach musically as vocalist Syan offers a spoken delivery over the track. The structured noise that opens it leads directly into a head-nodding beat with an odd melody bleeding in. For almost 4 minutes the track allures listeners in with its throbbing rhythm, stops, and begins again abruptly.

With so much to take in, this album doesn’t disappoint. There’s a melody, whether obvious or hidden, throughout every track, and sucks you right in. I think about film and what Bram Stoker’s Dracula once said, “The blood is life.” Yeah, it is. And so is this.

THE BODY – THE CRYING OUT OF THINGS

Cacophony is always based on one’s perception. Depending on who is listening, things might be interpreted in several different ways if you’re not familiar with a sound or a specific genre. There have been moments when I thought The Body, the duo of vocalist/guitarist Chip King and drummer/electronics manipulator Lee Buford, had a sound that erupted without direction. But that was at least over a decade ago. The band, which has more than 20 full-length releases under its proverbial belt, both studio albums and collaborative releases, has just released its latest long-player, The Crying Out Of Things (Thrill Jockey).

The Body is rooted within clashing styles of metal and experimentation with electronics, as abrasive instruments scrape against walls of sandpaper. That isn’t meant in the literal sense and nor does it define The Body unequivocally. We could also refer to it as noisy experimentation that traverses the world of metal. There are options but also, we can’t simply define the band within a singular space. The opening “Last Thing” is rhythmic heavy, bordering on tribal, with vocal samples swirling around it over a minute and a half before what sounds like two sets of guitars both screeching and offering a different rhythm. The track remains this way until its eventual demise, leaving a snail trail of sonic disruptions. It’s both heavy and intriguing. “Removal” follows quickly and the duo moves deep within dark crevasses with a hypnotic rhythm as the low-end theory captivates listeners throughout it. It’s surrounded by crusty formations of dissonance and controlled feedback which once again morphs into something much more sinister, albeit much quieter before painting a picture onto a canvas of explosive black and whites. There’s no color, but there isn’t any needed.

Through many of the band’s songs, an underlying melody makes its way to the surface. But “A Premonition” seems to be much more direct with it, embellishing it with horns. The rhythm slinks around airy distortion but the percussion throughout is chillingly good! You never quite expect this from an instrumental outfit but it’s what The Body gives you. It seems the band pushes itself to the limits, sonically, without care how deep in the red some of its instruments can go. Boundaries are crossed without any fucks given. “The Building” though is a different beast altogether as the band moves in a repetitive motion for over 2 minutes without coming across as repetitious. The track has an ambient feel as it drifts across with Felicia Chen’s unsettling vocals here. Soon after, the band changes the complexion of the song with a hypnotic rhythm and chaotic distorted instruments. “All Worries” takes yet again another approach. The slow mesmeric movements here are strongly defined and with intent. It’s both sludgy and exquisite, easing through with grace as the rhythm gives way to its captivating melody. This in of itself isn’t an easy task but The Body seems to accomplish it with ease.

Musically, time has been kind to The Body. It has allowed the duo to challenge their very being with a concise sound all its own. Through The Crying Out Of Things we are allowed into the band’s world, crafted of delicacy and chaos.