Soil – Redefine
J Records
________________________________________________________
I was supposed to interview
Ryan McCombs last weekend but he never called.
Redefine was released on March 23, so with McCombs and the rest of
Soil knee
deep in important PR communicato from now until forever, I don’t know if the
interview will ever happen. What I do know is that my first remark to him
was going to be, “When I listen to your music, I want to punch somebody in
the face.” And friends, believe me when I tell you that that is the highest
compliment I could possibly afford him. Soil, and McCombs’ vocals in
particular, are so visceral, so guttural, that anything less than murderous
rage pumping through your veins halfway through the temple-slamming first
song “Pride” is merely an insult to, well…pretty much anything. But the
cincher with this gas-guzzling Chicago outfit is that they run rough shot
over the agro-based, nu-schlock bands they are supposed to be contemporaries
with – the exact reason I should hate them.
But I’ll be damned if they don’t push all the right buttons and do things
all the right ways. I mean, these beasts made it big on their seminal 2001
ball-buster Scars and still had the charisma and proper respect to the rock
to return with an equally blistering effort here. That makes two albums, 24
songs, and not one fucking radio-friendly hit since signing to a major
label. Even their tribute to late Drowning Pool singer Dave Williams,
“Remember,” is as heavy as they come. Other songs to check out here include
“Redefine,” the deathly catchy “Can You Heal Me,” and “Cross My Heart.” But
really, the whole album is pure speed, a guillotine high of biker metal layin’ bloody rubber all over your broken skull. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I
have some faces to stomp.
________________________________________________________
I was supposed to interview
Ryan McCombs last weekend but he never called.
Redefine was released on March 23, so with McCombs and the rest of
Soil knee
deep in important PR communicato from now until forever, I don’t know if the
interview will ever happen. What I do know is that my first remark to him
was going to be, “When I listen to your music, I want to punch somebody in
the face.” And friends, believe me when I tell you that that is the highest
compliment I could possibly afford him. Soil, and McCombs’ vocals in
particular, are so visceral, so guttural, that anything less than murderous
rage pumping through your veins halfway through the temple-slamming first
song “Pride” is merely an insult to, well…pretty much anything. But the
cincher with this gas-guzzling Chicago outfit is that they run rough shot
over the agro-based, nu-schlock bands they are supposed to be contemporaries
with – the exact reason I should hate them.