Favorite Albums of 2017 Number 4 - Royal Thunder's WICK

The only reason this album isn't higher on my list is because the numbers are really meaningless and interchangeable based on my mood. A couple of years ago, Royal Thunder's last album, Crooked Doors was my number 1. This year's WICK feels very much like a follow up to that album, not just because it's the next one they made, but because there is a sense of connected themes, lyrically and musically, that I can't help but think is no accident as the band has developed their artistry and point of view considerably over the past few years.

While the album could be argued to be split in two sections with the more upbeat (relatively speaking) songs up front before going into the more introspective and moving tunes, this is by no means to suggest that it's not cohesive. One thing easily leads to another and everything is connected. There's a progression that makes sense and connects the songs to one another and possibly to the previous album. Maybe I read too much into it, but opener "April Showers" talk of "fifty pills in the wall" and closer, "The Well"'s final line "these walls will tear us down" feel like there's more than just a common word between them considering the overall themes of loss and isolation that appear in between those lines. Then there's the hymn-like ending of the final song that fans will recognize from Crooked Door's "Floor." The vaguely religious allusion and connecting of loss to ritual is haunting.

As usual, the band is tight. Josh Weaver's riffs are complex enough to keep things interesting without losing the rock structure. These songs are not meant to be rousing anthems but there is a little bit of an 80s metal vibe going on through a couple of songs like "Sinking Chair" and "April Showers" that drives them into your being. And of course, Mlny Parsonz's vocals are beyond phenomenal. In particular, the ballad, "Plans" is a gut-wrenching and cathartic performance that feels like an open wound, finally getting some healing air after a past due bandage is removed. 

Overall this album may be a little more "mainstream" than any of their previous releases. But to me, that makes it even more daring, since they do this without losing any of their power or perspective. If anything, what I find is that the melodies lull you into what might be an easy, "radio-friendly" hard rock mood before taking an unexpected turn that illuminates the brilliance of the whole. A given note or chord might be more major than minor, but the band has figured out how to still imbue it all with their same emotional heft. This is an album that, like all of their work, gets you headbanging and pondering the pains of existence at the same time. 

Royal Thunder is easily my favorite band of the last several years. I will buy anything they put out at this point, really. You should, too.

Best Albums of 2015: Number One

If one album, one artist, can be credited with me coming back to heavy music it's the one at the top of my list. Once I heard this album, I couldn't stop and I kept trying to find other bands that would come close to what I loved about this. This is doomy and heavy but it's not just that. There's a range and more than that, it is deeply personal and moving in unexpected ways. It reminds me of specific things I loved about metal as a kid, is clearly influenced by those things, and yet not frozen in that time. It's Crooked Doors by Royal Thunder and as far as I'm concerned, it's really a masterpiece of an album.

Back in 7th grade, early on in the year that a bunch of kids from other elementary schools filtered in to my tiny world, I met a guy that let me borrow an album by an artist that I'd certainly heard of, in urban legends and warnings, mostly, but had never actually listened to. That cassette tape of Ozzy Osbourne's Bark at the Moon opened my ears and mind to a world of darkness that would speak to me very closely for the next few years of outcast pubescent confusion (new album?). The internal turmoil and mental anguish about the world that was captured more by the tension of the music itself than by any specific lyric, and manifested in a black catharsis (another album?), is exactly what I was going to need and that moment is a major turning point in my life. All of this is what Crooked Doors brings to something you wouldn't necessarily think of at first: the break-up album. And that's basically what this is about - the end of a marriage, specifically between singer/bassist Mlny Parsonz and guitarist Josh Weaver - though it also includes some explorations into breaking away from cults and brainwashing, which come to think of it, is kind of the same thing.

This album has an overwhelming emotional cohesion to it that only reveals itself with more listens. The opening track "Time Machine" sets up the entire journey of regret, resentment and rebirth in a beautifully bittersweet way. "I'm looking for a time machine, but I can not go back and change one single thing, it's staying all intact," sings Parsonz, using the more vulnerable side of her commanding vocal range, over a tune that slowly builds into a power ballad with so much power that there are moments you forget the ballad part completely. But it's toward the middle of this seven minute wound baring that the song goes into a certain free fall motif that will be repeated several times and in different forms throughout this album, firmly gluing the entire thing together as a whole. And then it builds towards a solo from Weaver that would demand full blown torches be held up by the audience. And this is just the first song!

The story of Parsonz and Weaver includes a stint in a cult, which they left long ago, but it informs several songs on this album, particularly "Floor" which is about a specific "ritual" Mlny was put through at this church. Not only do you get the sense that this time in her life is important to the issues of the relationship and the break-up, but it is an incredibly apt subject to include in this context, regardless. "I can feel him fall me, I can feel him fall on me, I am trembling, what is happening to me, white wash this memory," she wails at one point and she could be talking about some god, some cult leader or her husband. And then there's "this is such a mess, I know that there's something more, something tells me this is over, now open these doors," which really requires no further comment. The point here is this is a person at a major crossroads in her life and that comes with realizations, repercussions and resignations that are overwhelming, freeing and melancholy. The fact they continue to play music together speaks volumes about their friendship and commitment to their art, but I'm sure there's a cost and these songs are like the beautiful scars that remain. And not only do her lyrics convey this in both direct and indirect ways, but the music always supports it.

That free falling motif I mentioned earlier comes through most in the slightly more ballady "Forgive Me, Karma" which opens with several falling guitar runs before going into a what is just a slight tease of Parsonz sweetest singing. Evan Diprima's drums particularly stand out to me during the quieter moments of this song, providing what could be the backbeat to the cosmos itself. By the time we get to the double farewell punch of closers "The Bear I" and "The Bear II" you should feel somewhat exhausted, and these two straight up ballads got your back. But they might tear you up with heartache.

I really can't say enough how great Parsonz is vocally, lyrically and emotionally. There are moments where you hear her strain for a note that maybe someone trying to achieve perfection, rather than honesty, would avoid. But strain she does, and she doesn't care if you hear it. That strain that shows up every so often is a huge part of what pushed this album to my top spot. That last song, "The Bear II" featuring Parsonz singing over piano and strings, in anyone else's hands might come across as too syrupy or overdone, but when she sings "and I wish I had the heart to move on, but I am not, no I am not that strong," it's like an invasion of privacy on our part instead of an exploitation of emotion on hers. And to have gone through an entire album where her voice is mostly about power and loudness, and end on this note of broken vulnerability is the bravest thing she could do and ultimately the biggest demonstration of her power.

Dead Sara and Royal Thunder: Rock is a Woman

Mlny is power.

The lineage of ladies tearing up some rock n roll, be it heavy or smooth is long and storied. And it's important to note because as much as we can say it shouldn't matter if they are male or female, so long as they're good, the stigma, roadblocks and flat out victimization of women in rock makes those that succeed that much more vital. In a strange. ironic and troubling way it adds to their appeal that there is this history of an industry (and a culture, really) that is as much against them as it is about exploiting them. So to this day, I always feel like there's more pure rock rebellion and badassery going on when I hear a strong woman's vocals at full volume, destroying her own throat if she must, just to get something out. And because of this, I can't stop listening to two bands in particular lately: Dead Sara and Royal Thunder.

Emily Armstrong's vocals are what rock dreams are made of. There's really nothing else I can say about it beyond that. She somehow has a sweetness that is wrapped in a fuck it all rasp or maybe it's the rasp that breaks through the shell of sweetness. Or maybe, oh who the fuck knows? Look, I'm sure this can be analyzed and dissected by people that know more about this stuff than I do, but really, just listen to her and feel the full range of expression that comes through. That damaged yell is the sound of catharsis which is the sound of rock n roll at it's most basic. Whether it's sexual, angry or just simply rebellious for the sake of it, it all begins with that sound. It's Janis Joplin, Roger Daltrey, Robert Plant and whoever the hell else you can think of all wrapped up in this one woman who still makes it hers. 

Then there's Mlny Parsonz of Royal Thunder, adding a witchy quality and subtle sense that you might get your ass kicked. No matter how personal and vulnerable her lyrics get (and they do) she is not someone you feel like you can fuck with. Any pain she exposes is done in the service of taking power from it with her voice, which is another vital element of the rock catharsis. Royal Thunder is heavy metal in a very traditional sense while at the same time encompassing some more modern forms of the genre. Because of that, Mlny in every way, transcends the concept of "girl who rocks" and becomes a perfect vessel for the history of Metal from Sabbath through the 80s (I hear some Ratt in there, in a good way) and beyond, taking grunge, sludge and whatever else with her. They tend to keep it slow and deep and there's no better voice for it as far I'm concerned. The fact that she also plays bass like a boss is just a bonus but not one that should be overlooked. 

Now go play their music, loud as fuck, as intended. 

Erin Armstrong takes flight.