The Frankie Goes to Hollywood of “Two Tribes”. Talk Talk. Stadium-era Depeche Mode. Laibach. a-ha’s aural dramas “Stay on These Roads” and “Manhattan Skyline”. “New Year’s Day” by U2. These are the musical building blocks of Ulver’s The Assassination of Julius Caesar.
Apocalyptica are a band that became famous for playing Metallica on cellos. And tonight they’re playing only Metallica covers because it's 20 years since they released Plays Metallica by Four Cellos, their debut album. The quartet formed at Finland’s Sibelius Academy in 1993 and the man responsible for bringing together classical cellists to play metal is Eicca Toppinen. Tonight, referring to their debut album, he admits that they were “expecting to sell 1,000 CDs”.
Scandinavian cello metal sensations Apocalyptica are hitting the UK to mark the 20th anniversary of their breakthrough debut album, the self-explanatory Plays Metallica by Four Cellos.
theartsdesk has a pair of tickets to give away for their Manchester show at Bridgewater Hall on Monday 27th February and a pair for their London show at Royal Festival Hall on Wednesday 1st March. Each winner will also receive a signed copy on vinyl of the remastered Plays Metallica by Four Cellos.
The idea of a heavy metal rock band for children might be somewhat lacking in appeal for some. Images of leather and chains, frightening make-up, Anthrax-style roaring into a microphone and satanic lyrics for dear little Jonti, all a bit overwhelming. But in Finland, where hard rock is a way of life, of course there’s a heavy metal group for kids.
“One thing there's not is the big Metallica ballad – it's all pretty uppity,” said Lars Ulrich of Hardwired… to Self-Destruct, Metallica’s first album for the best part of a decade. If we ignore, for a moment, the Trump-esque grasp of language and assume he meant uptempo rather than arrogant, the drummer appears to be a master of understatement as soon as opener “Hardwired” tears out of the gate, all rabid intent and sweary barking.
It’s a tempo that you’d imagine would be difficult to keep up for a group that’s made up of, in the main, men in their 50s, and you’d be right. So, after the rugged riffing and impeccable precision of “Atlas, Rise!”, things slow down and get even heavier – much like men in their 50s. The impressive, progressive slow chug of “Now That We’re Dead”, however, proves to be little more than a pit-stop as “Moth into Flame” goes through the gears with little consideration for the clutch, pausing only to allow a surprisingly considered vocal melody a chance to jump in.
The riffs throughout the first CD are inspired
The playing is perfect – precise and on point. Not that you’d expect anything else from Metallica who, even when they’re off their game (2008’s Death Magnetic, for instance), still eclipse most other metal bands. The riffs throughout the first CD are inspired and as dense and dark as you could hope for.
The second disc, however, is where things start to unravel slightly – much like men in their 50s. Simply stated, there’s a marked dip in quality as promising intros give way to disappointing songs; it’s like being given the keys to the city and then finding out that the city in question is Milton Keynes. The furious thrash of “Spit out the Bone” excepted, there could – and should – have been much more considered editing here.
That’s not to say Hardwired… isn’t good. In fact, if the best of what’s here had been presented on one disc, it could lay claim to be the best material the band has put out in a quarter of a century. As it is, it needs to lose some ballast… much like men in their 50s.
Overleaf: watch the video to "Moth into Flame"
Familiar words pepper the lead item on the 9am radio news: "Brexit", "Theresa May", "Boris Johnson". Yet the bulletin is delivered in the first language of the 49,000-population Faroe Islands. The self-governing region of Denmark may be a remote cluster of 18 North Atlantic islands, but the Britain-watching contagion has spread to a place which has never been a member of the EU. Denmark is. The Faroes aren't.
The accepted wisdom from last month's relaunched Rock or Bust tour was that the substitution of Axl Rose for incapacitated singer Brian Johnson was as masterful as it was surprising. Whatever the Guns N' Roses man lacked in mischief, the story went, he made up for with malevolent energy. Now, though, it's been over a month of the new band. So is Axl still brimming with curdled anger? Or was the initial hype just a product of the novelty of the situation?
The attack is relentless. Its power pummels like a gale. The 2015 model Mercury Rev begin their set at Iceland Airwaves as they meant to finish. Never has this band been so forceful, so kinetic. Yet their trademark balance of filmic drama and delicate melody was not sacrificed during this convincing revitalisation. On stage at Reykjavík’s Harpa concert hall on the festival's second day, Mercury Rev set a bar so high it sowed seeds suggesting nothing could top this. If they are playing, see them.
Killing Joke are a band that inspire near devotion in their fans. Their 1980 eponymous debut is regularly cited as one of the best of all time, and they’ve managed two very decent outings since the original line-up of Jaz Coleman, Paul Ferguson, Kevin "Geordie" Walker and Martin "Youth" Glover reformed in 2008.
It’s nearly 40 years since bassist Steve Harris formed Iron Maiden and much has changed since then. Singer Bruce Dickinson has learned to fence, fly and kick cancer in the cock, and the band have continued to release albums – albums which, though rarely hitting the high points of their Eighties heyday, have often been pretty decent and admirably ambitious in scope.