The internet has probably helped a lot too. Lost Tribe are an unapologetic piece of goth rock, tough and coarse. Their sound is something akin to sonorous salt in a widening wound.
I’ve never been the type of person who says they “like all kinds of music.” I take umbridge with those who parrot this neutral position, “all kinds of music.” Firstly, these supposed omnivores are not neutral. More often than not they are the first to raise issue with what is being played. “What’s this stuff. Kinda dancey is it?” This first issue leads onto the next. Your “all kinds of music” head appears to know absolutely nothing about music and will therefore commit such idiocies as “dancey” or, god forbid, “bandy.” Someone’ll be dancing on my grave before I wretch up the pleasantry, “I like all kinds of music.” Perhaps I’ll keep that for the stone, “Liked all kinds of music.” Electronics has been my pillar. But, as my youthful visage escapes down the plughole I do find my staunch synthesizer stance mellowing and a stray guitar finding its way onto my turntables. I can blame age, but I’m also blaming NYC based Blind Prophet Records. Sean Ragon’s label sallies forth with some synthesizer gold whilst turning my taste-buds towards some of the more traditional sounds of drum kit, double base and electric guitar.
The first thing that hits home with BPR’s latest is the artwork. The sleeve is a beautifully produced piece of metal pastiche. The record itself is a pretty full blooded affair. Tough, dark punk is the name of the game. An audio assault rains as soon as the needle hits the groove. “Fading into the Fog” pits guitar against man, with neither coming off the better. The sound has a corrosive quality, “White Noise” dissolving in a medley of harsh vocals. “Winter” is a stringy piece of dark rock. The pace across the record is fast, the bass lines thick and the vocals rough. “Gunk” is an aggressive amalgamation of breaking larynx and guitar. “Forever” maintains the anguish, a hard and strained piece. The tracks have a locomotive power, propelled every onward by fiery pistons. The record, to the end, is a speed driven affair. “Dream Catcher” finishes the barrage in a hail of strings and snares.
In my old age my music horizons are broadening. The internet has probably helped a lot too. Lost Tribe are an unapologetic piece of goth rock, tough and coarse. Their sound is something akin to sonorous salt in a widening wound. It is not a sound I would be immediately drawn to, but I can appreciate the ferocity and intensity of it. I still have no time for those espousing a Swiss stance on music, but I can appreciate the multifaceted sounds that BPR are extolling. Blind Prophet keeping the flames lit.
Lost Tribe is available on Blind Prophet.
