Local
Grooves
Exhumed
Anatomy Is Destiny
(Relapse)
It's rare for a band to hit its stride more than a decade into its
career, but I swear that's what's happening with gore-metal veterans
Exhumed. They've been together since 1991 and have released tons of
singles and EPs as well as two full-lengths prior to Anatomy Is Destiny.
Their previous album, 2000's Slaughtercult (Relapse), was over-the-top
Carcass worship at its best and had one song, "Fester Forever,"
whose guitar solo was so obnoxious and ridiculous it made me fall out
of my chair laughing the first time I heard it.
Still, it wasn't the kind of album that suggested much room for "artistic
growth," which is why Anatomy Is Destiny is a surprise.
You can actually hear the individual instruments, a novel approach for
the band and one that reveals a whole new level of songwriting sophistication.
It's still death metal, so I'm not talking about flutes and string sections
here, but the interplay between the barfing vocals, dual guitars, and
blasting, 220-bpm drums is quite impressive and proves, for anyone who
doubted it, there's more to Exhumed than chainsaws and fake blood. Not
that there's anything wrong with chainsaws and fake blood. (Will York)
Greans
Grean Light
District (Outtanowhere)
The Greans seem suspiciously gimmicky, judging from the a in
their name, their debut album title, Grean Light District, and
the picture of asparagus on the back of the CD. But there's nothing
down-homey about their music. Any recording with enough wham-bam mix-down
to make me drop the Sunday funnies and bust an impromptu moonwalk is
more than good background music for a Southern-fried cook-off. The show-tuney
horns on "INI" make it one of the funkier tracks I've heard
on a first effort – even outpacing "Funky," which was,
in the Greans' words, created as theme music for a "pimp walking
with a spliff."
The beats are the meat and potatoes of Grean Light District,
almost compensating for the four Ohio-reared MCs' slightly protein-deficient
lyrics. To their credit, these MCs don't hit the typical rap cul-de-sacs,
like the obligatory track that enumerates the ways they are so fresh.
"Red" delves into slave narratives but barely scrapes the
surface, and on "Chessgames," the Greans serve up sucka MCs
with "truths like Sojourner," though Slick Rick still has
better metaphors for hip-hop brinkmanship. Few would debate that
the Greans out-rhyme your average backpacker rappers, but given that
they live a stone's throw from clever cats like Azeem, Mr. Lif, and
Boots Riley, I'd challenge them to step it up on the next go. Greans
play Sun/31, Ashkenaz, Berk. (510) 525-5054. Sept. 7, Bruno's, S.F.
(415) 648-7701. (Rachel Swan)
