Listen/Watch Here – Youtube
Directed By: No Future
Produced By: Mulatto Beats
Co-Produced: CJTheFlii
Edited + Creative Direction: Jake Osmun
Skeleton is a cinderblock curb stomp through 27 minutes and 11 tracks on their newest, self-titled debut release. Every second spent with the Austin, Texas rangers leads to this deadly sense of killing ability that transposes more into forming cracks of the whip against cattle, orchestrating domination over an audience.
From the initial seconds of “Skeleton,” the group together forms under obliterating and pulverizing instrumentation that allows seconds of rejuvenation before being crushed again. The grooves of quick snaps on the percussion is instantly harmful and creates movement while the growls enact less of a lending hand and more of a clenched fist. With co-signs of an antique thrash sound, Skeleton transfers a unique coat of blood to push their debut farther.
One of the singles that was released, “The Sword” is a behemoth of a track that opens slowly but is foreboding through these almost frighteningly calm string sections. Stalking like a mighty predator, Skeleton suddenly pounces on the listener and begins to claw away with riffs disguised as knives. While oftentimes short assaults, Skeleton is covered head-to-toe in mosh pit starting instrumentation that strikes through this combination of rugged and precise.
Later tracks like “At War” and “Taste Of Blood” proceed to peel back the security blanket and throw the listener into this gauntlet of sound. But this is where Skeleton can succeed in creating pieces that are truly harrowing. With the moments that seem to turn into hours on the breakdowns and blast beats, Skeleton forms a firmer grip with each track until finally the listener is encapsulated completely. Aggression and atmospheric building is how Skeleton can thrive and begin to show these colors of war banners for intimidation factor.
They ride into the scene with iron warhorse style as a conquering mix between blackened metal and thrash where worlds collide to destruction. The journey here with Skeleton is a surprisingly quick one and begins to bleed over as the display begs to be re-spun at every opportunity. Once the final track, “Catacombs” waltz into play, Skeleton has already burnt down 10 of the tracks in rapid-fire succession. With machine-gun grace, they take one last stab into the dark for one of the strongest send-offs of the record. Also the longest piece on the album, “Catacombs” has moments of slow burn that begin to suddenly fire on all cylinders.
Skeleton is able to annihilate with its instrumentals and bring the dead back to life with the vocals. While Skeleton does not create anything that is Earth-shattering, what they do is stuck to well and they can successfully shift lanes to form around them. Where days fade to weeks, Skeleton is a record that etches into the skull for its consistency through hurt.
1977 in London, England, before group called the Sex Pistols were able to emancipate a group of youth forever with a new style of dress and music that would go on to change how society operated. This influence stemmed from another group, The Damned which pushed into Pathway Studios to record their debut record, Damned Damned Damned.
With 12 tracks that span over the course of 30 minutes, The Damned are a geared up punk pioneer that sail among fairly easily transitional waters. Not really having the same jagged edge as their counterpart, Damned Damned Damned was more reflective of quick tracks that got a crowd to move instead of revolt and spit. Opening with “Neat Neat Neat,” the bass coming from Captain Sensible is a thumping catalyst that rips apart the diving board as the other three members plummet off. From Dave Vanian on vocals, Brian James on guitar and vocals, and Rat Scabies on percussion, the half-serious half-diabolical mix is a carnival that transposes into their sound.
Describing a political landscape that reflects more the thoughts of today, The Damned illustrate, “No crime if there ain’t no law, no cops left to mess you around. No more dreams of mystery chords, no more sight to bring you down…” they continue on to finish, “I said neat neat neat, she can’t afford no cannon. Neat neat neat, she can’t afford no gun at all.” So to become a stance that boosts anarchy in the U.K., The Damned are the more approachable but still seedy cousin that exists in the movement.
As they march on with “Born To Kill,” the crowds of noise grow larger and the nearly addictive style of play coincides within liberation. Describing initially, “I got a calling time of day, I beat a lot, lot of crime away…” to then illustrating, “It’s no kind of big deal, no Carnegie steal. I don’t feel like no hell, when I’m born, said I’m born, yeah I’m born, and I’m born to kill.” The guitars and bass here are like a switchblade that clearly marks the percussion and the short snare pops as separate entities. On one level of slice, The Damned is loud and rambunctious, but then they can show a different side of identifiable pop levels of digestibility.
With “Feel The Pain,” the slow burn of the instrumental is a three-and-a-half-minute break that is not only necessary but allows a recoup of ideas where every track begins to bleed into each other. The Damned without question is able to strike matches on Damned Damned Damned, but the slurred emotional distress of “Feel The Pain” is another face of the coin.
Before fading into sound, Damned Damned Damned puts the blade away and instead opts for a gentle handshake with a cover of The Stooges’ “1970,” disguised as “I Feel Alright” where a new era is ushered out and then immediately put into power by command and conquer tactics. Where one wave washes and the other dissipates, London cracks the pavement as a marker once more.
Listen/Watch Here – BandCamp/Spotify/Amazon/iTunes
Featuring: Jadasea + Earl Sweatshirt
Produced By: DJ Blackpower, Darryl Johnson, KeiyaA, rbchmbrs, red-lee
Track List: Love Supremacy, Alert*, Coat Of Many Colors, Never Thought (Tribute), 222, More Gifts, What’s Home 1/2, Delicate, No No, Plans, Get Rich Quick Scheme, Trail Of Tears, Weight Of The Word*, Iz U Stupid, Da Screets, Allstar
Where the man appears to feel as if he was on Mars, so far removed from the general principle of society is when an artist can dig hands into the dirt and come out with something resembling worth. On LIL BIG MAN, Maxo is a genuine narrator who is able to pull the audience into the back frames of his psyche located through the abstract production which pours over and begins to bury.
The opening works of “Time” are met with a subtle build-up that transposes into open-air synths and a piano run that strikes more nostalgia than future constructing. As Maxo’s vocals set up these adjacent deliveries where he is more present, he creates conflict with his instrumental. He begins to describe through a cloud of reawakened smoke, “Cause I done seen niggas die over fake shit, just to find out the money don’t make shit. ‘Cept a lot of handouts and a lot of wide mouths from niggas you ain’t seen in a few, then they wonder who receiving the loot.” While rhyming, Maxo has this form that can orchestrate choruses as simple, memorable, but ultimately a real boost to his portrayal.
Oftentimes, albums that have little to no features can become difficult to comprehend every minute detail and show some erosion to the attention span of the listener. Maxo solves this by having a record that is 10 tracks and just barely over 30 minutes with many of the pieces featuring these interludes of droning instrumentation that hypnotize the listener.
Especially shown on the track “No Love” where Lojii is actually able to start the track off and switches hands as this game of vocal chess. Lojii describes, “I got a lot on my vision, got the future looking finished. Dodging Benz, doing business, I’m only starting from the finish.” He then continues on to illustrate, “Only checking for a check, your favorite rapper not a threat, way too loud with the threats, only caps with the text.” If the Road Warriors could be a team-up of relaxed rappers, Maxo slides into frame and is able to use Lojii’s verse like a springboard.
He begins, “Damn, I ain’t really been living, money all in my vision. Really out here tryna get it, God really my witness. Momma know I been sinning.” He continues on to finish,” I ain’t even tryna brag none, but it’s hard turning that bread down when you member days when you had some.” Never does the mix become too complex, but is just the right amount of flowing and stuttered production that can give hope where musical corpses lie.
And as the sun does one more lap around, LIL BIG MAN seems to be a revolutionary point for Maxo that illustrates grace over bombastic nature. Before disappearing into the throes of community, Maxo cracks the pavement and stumbles on back into the isolated sands of Mars.