Dead Meadow - Howls From The Hills (Xemu)
4/5
By: Thomas Hannan
They let you know what you're in for right from the start, this lot. Three minutes of manipulated feedback exist at the beginning of opening track 'Drifting Down Streams', and they're entirely necessary, there so you can get yourself in to the right mindset for 'Howls From The Hills' (a very appropriate title), so you can become accustomed to the kind of sonic aesthetic that will rule over the next hour of your life. No, it's not a pure and simple drone-fest - there are lots of charming rhythmic flourishes and moments of strong melodic presence here - but to come straight in to one of these behemoths of riffs straight after listening to nearly any other kind of sound you claim to name would leave one feeling particularly queasy if these moments of feedback weren't there. You'll be left experiencing some very woozy feelings come the end of this record, but trust us, you'd feel much worse if that feedback hadn't strapped you in for the journey.
It requires attention, because not all is as it first appears with Dead Meadow. Because they play very heavy, remarkably sizeable riffs and play them incredibly loud (it's another one of those records that exists at the same volume no matter what level you play it at - always LOUD), you think they're playing fast - but this is a trick of the light (kinda), one they pull of best on the monstrous 'Dusty Nothing' and the Melvins-like 'The White Worm'. They're actually playing really very slowly, it's just that there's so much going on that despite it all happening at a relatively sluggish pace, you nonetheless struggle to keep up.
People will tell you this is drug music, but having never touched the stuff that this is supposedly meant to soundtrack and experience of, I can with a clear mind and conscience state that it stands up brilliantly to a wholly sober listen. I doubt people contemplate questions like 'what time signature is that they're playing in on 'Jusiamere Farm'' (answers on a postcard, please - well, alright, email...) when they're completely off their tits, giggling to themselves and dribbling in to their Cypress Hill records, but you can ponder things like that if you choose to, because far from being merely a masterfully atmospheric band, they're also a compositionally fascinating and inescapably clever one.
When they drop the electric guitars in favour of acoustic ones for 'The One I Don't Know', it's like the bottom has dropped out of your world. Only then do you realise how caught up in their fuzz you really were, and how those opening minutes of feedback really did settle you in for the ride brilliantly. It's a masterful change of tact that reinvigorates the rest of the album, and is followed by their fastest moment with 'Everything's Going On' (a misleading title if ever there was one), where, oddly, they play at their quickest pace and yet seem to use the least notes - there are two guitar tones repeated over and over, and whilst it eases you back in to the clamour after that acoustic interlude, it's arguably the least inspiring thing here. They don't need pace to impress. In fact, they can do without it.
'One and Old' fares much, much better - at nigh on ten minutes long, it's the lengthiest thing here, certainly the scariest, and arguably the best. The least rewarding instantly, you'll find yourself coming back to it time and time again, just because you can get physically lost in this kind of music in a way that other bands don't even attempt. This, their seminal second LP, ends on 'The Breeze Always Blows' in a way that could even be considered pretty - it contains a riff your mum could admire the colour in, but a drum sound at which she'd probably vomit. It's there as if to remind you that buried under the clamour, there were songs after all. What's fun, and the reason that this is a purchase you'll get years of enjoyment out of, is the process of discovering them.
Stream 'Everything's Goin' On' from 'Howls From The Hills' HERE.
Your Feedback
Login to post your comment