Oversize
Vital Signs
If the grim, abstract artwork, self-professed love of ‘90s alternative music and performance references of Higher Power, Fiddlehead and Outbreak Festival weren’t dead enough giveaways, Oversize are among the current class produced from hardcore’s love affair with shoegaze. It’s definitely good to have more like this around, if a tin ear for pure shoegaze makes it difficult to get along with a sound that could simultaneously put you to sleep and blast out your eardrums. At least something like Oversize is the happy, listenable, formationally stable compromise. And as one might expect from a band who clearly recognise Deftones as their aspirational acme, they can sound pretty large while doing it.
It goes without saying that Vital Signs is a step up for Oversize after their previous EPs. Naturally, a bigger release in this style will feel that way, though the retooling has been more carefully calculated here. With a largely slower pace comes this empowered feel, Oversize’s closest approximation yet to a typical shoegaze-y wall-of-sound setup. Opener Stalling seems to do exactly what its title suggests with some clumsy first steps, but that’s not indicative of what goes on elsewhere. By far, Vital Signs represents the most comprehensive and adept take on Oversize’s vision yet. The bass churn and clear-to-crushing guitars have the exact synergy they should; the mix is impressively deep and rich; overall, the feel of Vital Signs is that of a band re-emerging into the world renewed.
Granted, the issue that a lot of acts like this have with engagement hasn’t exactly gone away with the refurb. If anything, it might be more pronounced, now that Oversize are crafting longer bodies of work with fewer big shifts. It’s not the most stark of albums on immediate impact, and when its exploration of grief deliberately frames its nuances for listeners to explore and enjoy in their own ways, it almost seems like a deliberate decision to remain at arm’s length. Not that it’s a harmful one; Sam McCauley’s voice would likely invite that freedom, even if it weren’t stated outright. But compared to someone like Loathe or Deftones themselves, that extra crank of impact isn’t quite there yet. A couple more standout tracks would be a good start towards getting there, something which Vital Signs does admittedly lack in at present.
Still, for the advancements in sound alone, Oversize’s debut full-length is worth a dive into. It’ll definitely find its audience (like all of these tend to do), maybe even percolating outside of the hardcore spaces the band seem to currently be nestled in. And although—also like all of them—there’s some work needed to properly stand out, it’s not so drastic that it needs to be dwelled on too heavily. The bulk of growth seems to have already been done in the interim, and Vital Signs feels like the product of a band who’ve embraced it wholeheartedly. For what it is right now, this is extremely solid stuff.
For fans of: Deftones, Hum, Basement
‘Vital Signs’ by Oversize is released on 28th February on Sharptone Records.
Split Dogs
Here To Destroy
The people who’ll get the most enjoyment from Split Dogs are the ones who believe that ‘real’ music died on 31st December 1979. Indeed, the band’s own self-assessment as like “Status Quo but queer and hard” almost feels specifically built to unite the disparate tribes of ‘70s rock enjoyers. On one side, you’ve got the punks who were down for progressivism and the smash-‘em-up attitude from day dot; on the other, you’ve got the rockers who…maybe weren’t, but were too busy rockin’ all over the world to care. And in the middle—done up to not sound half-a-century old, thank Christ—is Split Dogs’ Here To Destroy.
Naturally, that makes for a particularly familiar suite of sounds, even more so than the straight-up classic punk of its eponymous predecessor. Now, the instrumental tone is far more indebted to classic rock, most noticeable when the punk fury drops out to be replaced by a cocksure swagger on Lafayette or All In. It’s across the board, though, and supercharged by the gnashing that turns this whole thing into a concoction of bitter-downing, glass-throwing pub-rock. With Harry Atkins’ proudly hoary voice, it’s something that Split Dogs are committed to lean into. Outside of recorded fidelity, there’s not a fingerprint of modern interference to be found across this album. It’s almost impressive in its commitment to the old ways, doubly so when Here To Destroy achieves all it needs to in just a mite over 20 minutes.
The point still stands even when what Split Dogs are achieving doesn’t have a massive breadth. On one hand, it’s good that nothing’s ever lingered on too much, avoiding the risk of running it down prematurely. On the other, though, from the opening bite of Stay Tuned to the album’s single permitted bit of flair on All In’s closing bars, the roadmap is practically a straight line. Not to say there’s an abundance of filler—that’s an area that brevity does a lot to stifle—but you aren’t getting some out-there musical subversion of Split Dogs’ vaunted ‘70s throwbackdom. At least the writing puts the fore the queer punk spirit that remains prescient even today; if there’s a place where Here To Destroy’s bite clamps down the hardest, it’s there.
On the whole, though, it’s hard to be disappointed by Here To Destroy making the most of its design space, as narrow as it can sometimes feel. Here’s an album that equally props up its twin pillars of the oldies without ever being dated or paralysed by its reverence to the past. It’s the kind of quick, sharp, classic-style basher that doesn’t need to expend enormous creative brainpower to work. Split Dogs simply know what’s effective, lay it down, and reap the benefits for themselves. And in rock music, it’s hard to get more classic than that.
For fans of: Chubby And The Gang, The Meffs, Bruise Control
‘Here To Destroy’ by Split Dogs is released on 28th February on Venn Records.
Eric Bass Presents
I Had A Name
To quell any possible curiosity—yes, Eric Bass does, indeed, play bass. It’s for Shinedown, but don’t hold that against him too much. The fact he’s releasing a solo album at all (even under the graceless moniker of ‘Eric Bass Presents’) suggests creative aptitude far beyond the majority of butt-rock backing drones. As for its concept—a rock opera about a dystopian society whose characters personify Bass’ mental health, neurodivergence and faith—that’s extravagantly above his world’s normal pay grade.
Of course, there’s such a thing as being too ambitious. Even My Chemical Romance had to get their feet wet before making The Black Parade, a step that you’d presume Bass views as optional. If he didn’t, his debut effort wouldn’t have gone so deep in on its grand, uninhibited, possibly unregulated vision, with more than a passing glance at MCR’s classic paid. It can be obvious—Wanna Go To Hell? wants to be the exact coda that Blood was—though it’s more relevant to the breed of excess. Bass also strives to balance the zany with the macabre, in the process making an album of chimeric hard rock that often feels like bits of songs stitched together with just enough connective edges to squeak by. And yet with the scattered child vocals that are Christmas carol-shrill on New Graves, and the smatterings of electro-rock and hip-hop on that track and The Churches Of The Dead, the thread can seem lost to the point of no return.
It’s a little ironic that, for Bass’ seeming desperation to spread his wings wider than a pudgy little radio-ready form would allow, I Had A Name is routinely best in its most straightforward moments. Azalia’s “oh-way-ah” is a very Shinedown-esque vocal (aided by Bass’ own delivery cribbing some notes from Brent Smith), complete with the walloping, full-fat thud that behooves their greatest hooks. Speaking of which, We Can’t Go Home and Mind Control have that ready-for-radio propulsion on theirs, and the dustier, emptier production of All Good Children / Our Guts makes its low-slung acoustics work, with no qualifiers. Well, okay, maybe the qualifier that the Our Guts section doesn’t need to be there, a fragment of cabaret parping that’s proof positive that Bass’ unfettered artistry could do with some…fettering.
And yet, there’s sort of purity to how I Had A Name has fallen out in this specific state. It’s got the energy of the overreaching pet project assembled during COVID that it is, for the lack of extra hands in the pot to reduce or redirect literally anything about it. If Eric Bass Presents is to be a commercial venture, that might be something to consider in the future, but making yourself known with a swing as almighty as this is definitely a statement. And even if it doesn’t welcome revisits with open arms, I Had A Name continues to live as an oddball piece of trivia. The bassist of Shinedown…made a rock opera…so full of ideas and concepts that it actually bears analysis. Oh, and there’s also a tie-in graphic novel being released with it. The insane world we live in, eh?
For fans of: Thirty Seconds To Mars, My Chemical Romance, Shinedown
‘I Had A Name’ by Eric Bass Presents is released on 28th February.
Dark Chapel
Spirit In The Glass
So, who wanted this side-project from the guitarist of Black Label Society who isn’t Zakk Wylde? …Anyone? …No? Well, that’s a rather mountainous hurdle placed in front of Dario Lorina’s Dark Chapel from the beginning, where there’s not even the bankability of sufficient name recognition to send them on their way. Then again, no amount of slavish brand loyalty could convince anyone that Spirit In The Glass is more than cripplingly mediocre. If you’re really in the market for a below-average Alice In Chains…well, the regular Alice In Chains are still going and they’ve been fitting that mould swimmingly with their latest work. Rainier Fog might’ve had staying power in negative numbers, but even it’s got more about it than this.
If there’s any explanation for why this exists to be found, it’s likely another bout of hubris of a longstanding musician who believes their boundaries are unfairly rigid, as opposed to exactly how they should be. How else can you explain Lorina’s decision to get behind the mic himself, with a voice like an emaciated Dave Grohl suffering from strep throat? Maybe the vocal multitracks and harmonies would help if they weren’t the most threadbare things ever. Add to that the fact that they’re often so much louder in the mix than the instrumentals, and you’ve got a real problem when it’s all so lifeless. Musically, the spirit of classic metal has all but evaporated, leaving behind a series of flat, hollow placeholders that, in the case of All That Remains and Bullet In Our Chamber, are also amateurishly cumbersome.
On the bright side, whenever there’s a solo, Dark Chapel begin to sound like an actual band who know what they’re doing. Paradoxically, Bullet In Our Chamber gets given the most lift thanks to its, bluesier and immeasurably more fluid than anything else on the song (maybe even the album). It might be the penultimate track, but Gravestoned Humanity goes a step further, picking up a little weight that’s still not properly sludgy or grungy, but is further off the starting blocks than most. And yet, the fact it’s so late and isolated in its quality makes the indication of a significant turnaround pretty fleeting. You only have to rewind a couple of tracks for further proof, as already-atomised momentum dies a death at the hands of the one-two Dead Weight and Dark Waters—one, a cold, austere piano-ballad; the other, an acoustic dirge where the main instrument is slaughtered by its tunelessness and total lack of dynamism. It’s a miserable portion of an album that already has an issue with engagement, be that on the part of the listener or, seemingly, Dark Chapel themselves.
And all throughout, you’re left in befuddlement as to the purpose of all of this. It hardly feels like a creative outlet to scratch an itch not touched in Lorina’s day job; you’d get a better version of this on any Black Label Society album. It’s also not some incredible statement when the building blocks—as eroded down as they may be—are so immediately recognisable. Maybe it was all done on a dare; who knows? Ultimately, though, Spirit In The Glass isn’t worth the time to take up what it’s offering. In itself, that isn’t much, and any suppositions of a badass, down-and-dirty metal album are upended and tossed into the sun in no time flat. Again, even Alice In Chains At Home is better than this.
For fans of: Alice In Chains cover bands, Black Label Society cover bands, Down cover bands
‘Spirit In The Glass’ by Dark Chapel is released on 28th February on MNRK Heavy.
Words by Luke Nuttall
