SEATTLE – Tyler Moss, the frontman of up-and-coming local grunge revival band Bent Angles raised quite a few eyebrows after suddenly exiting the band and self-administering a hack-job haircut by cutting off his bangs, sources confirmed through stifled laughter.
“I just felt like it was time for me to make a drastic change and get out of this toxic partnership before it’s too late,” said Moss, while compulsively trying to fix his bangs in the side mirror of a car. “I woke up one morning and realized that to truly let go and feel like a new person I needed to look like a new person. The shears were right there, and I just went to town. Now I feel lighter, flirtier, and more confident than I’ve felt in a very long time. You know the saying, ‘New you, new do.’ The other lead singers in town better watch out, I’m coming for your band.”
Former bassist Greg Stills can’t help but think that Moss’ new hairstyle is a desperate cry for help, but still can’t stop laughing.
“Tyler’s been acting like he was in some sort of abusive relationship, but things were going great before he suddenly flipped out and quit the band. We finished playing a sold-out show, and next thing you know he said it was just ‘too much pressure’ after we asked if we could park the van in his driveway for a few days.” said Stills. “A week later, he’s adding ‘moonbeam’ to all of his social media handles, and saying how he finally has room to grow after being unhappy for so many years. But we’ve only been a band for eight months.”
Scene stylist Herschel Bonaventure suggests that Moss is simply finding himself, and things could actually be much worse.
“By the looks of it, Tyler isn’t too far gone, and he can reverse the damage he subjected himself to. Bucket hats are coming back, and in six months’ time, nobody will even notice that he chopped all of his bangs off like an unsupervised 14-year-old after their first breakup,” said Bonaventure. “If he’s willing to bury the hatchet with his bandmates, they might welcome him back with open arms. It’s probably all just a misunderstanding. And it could be worse. At least he hasn’t dyed his hair red and taken up roller derby.”
At press time, Moss was spotted walking by his former bandmates, pretending to laugh into his cell phone in an attempt to make them jealous.
All the best dreamers, from Jay Gatsby to Don Draper to Robert Zimmerman to Michael Jackson, got their start in the Midwest. You’ll do well to have been born here.
Holy shit, it will inspire you—and get your ass on that no-other-option bus to Tinseltown. Of course, when you make it, you won’t cite “Oprah” as the reason you dropped forensic accounting to make it big in L.A. But that’s the reason. That’s the reason.
So many talents have squandered their shot to make it big because their ticket said “Albany” and not “Los Angeles.” Yes, they smashed the Albany scene, but have you heard of them?
Studies show that odds of making it in Hollywood decrease exponentially after failing to find Slash within the first 48 hours.
Pretty simple when you get right down to it. This town rewards talent, so if you have 30 chart toppers ready to go then everyone will welcome you with open arms.
You’ll need Uncle Ned and Aunt Sheila’s house on weekends when you’re out of laundry and money for CVS-brand Zoloft. Jeez, dude. Ten dollars really was a pretty silly idea, wasn’t it? You can’t even buy a sandwich for 10 fucking dollars.
At least while you get back on your feet. A lot of record moguls will hire you, and it’s not impolite to slip them a demo on your way out.
Sure, you can afford better with your new gig as a high end escort. But come on, dude! All your faves roughed it like this before they cut a deal with Geffen.
Badass, right? Plus, whoever sticks with you through this vagabond stage—that’s your band. Shuffle instruments accordingly.
Shit—this probably shoulda been number 1. If you’re ugly you’re going to want to stay away from L.A. altogether. Consider staying in the midwest, all the ugliest people on the world already live there so you might even be considered somewhat attractive there.
This is a solid debut, and the band shows off their aptitude for the good old loud-quiet-loud formula right out of the gate, as well as drummer Dave Turncrantz’ ability to incorporate understated syncopation into unexpected moments in almost every song. This album sounds like exactly what it is: an entirely enjoyable proof-of-concept for what the band will go on to do. It’s just that they’ll go on to do it even better.
This record went in two directions at once: The soft parts got softer and the heavy parts got heavier. That’s a great concept in theory, and there are some absolute ragers on here, not to mention a few moments where you might be tempted to dig your lava lamp out of the attic. The album’s structure was allegedly inspired by Pink Floyd’s “Animals,” right down to the bookending tracks “Memoriam” and “Memorial.” For any band aspiring to play eclectic instrumental metal, this might be a masterpiece. Russian Circles’ discography is so close to flawless that we’ve somehow put it at #7.
The production on this record shows just how hot Russian Circles was at this point. Not only was Kurt Fucking Ballou handling the engineering, but much of the tracking was done at Steve Goddamn Albini’s Electrical Audio studio. And unsurprisingly, as with just about everything Ballou touches, the sound is just absolutely impeccable, especially the drums. That man just knows exactly how to mic a kit, and it helps that the drumwork on this record is just dynamite. Exhibit A: track #2, “Arluck.” Ballou puts the drums just a notch higher in the mix than you might expect, and the outcome is magical. The band also does more with transitions between songs than in the past, creating a seamlessness that is fairly common in the genre, but that reaches its apex here. The segue from the gentle “Ghost on High” to the crushing “Sinaia” is so perfectly-executed that it might as well be a single track. The end of the record starts to feel a little more generic – the chuggy riffs in “Quartered” are a little uninspired – but again, “generic” Russian Circles is better than a whole lot of other stuff you could be listening to.
Adding a strings section to a metal record is always a dicey proposition. You risk sounding too soft or too pretentious or too much like you’re trying to hang with bands whose genre tags include words like “symphonic.” But unsurprisingly, Russian Circles nails it, adding cello by Allison Chesley and violin by Susan Voelz. Their contributions don’t change the fundamental shape of the band’s sound; they just add depth and nuance, which is pretty much exactly what you should expect from these sorts of collaborations. Bassist Brian Cook showcases his ability to shift on a dime from reliable rhythm section journeyman to standout virtuoso. This album feels like a bleak but oddly pretty winter afternoon between Christmas and New Year’s, and we cannot more highly recommend having it in your ears while you take a long walk in the woods.
Now that we’ve hit the top half of the list, we could easily and happily put the remaining records in almost any order and be happy with it. First off, this album is NOT a recording of all those dudes on the cover singing a metal version of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic,” so be careful about gifting this to your veteran grandfather. We learned that one the hard way. No, “Station” is an outstanding introduction to Russian Circles’ unique sound, which is to say – though this is generally the kiss of death in underground and heavy music – it’s pretty accessible. It also includes “Harper Lewis,” perhaps Russian Circles’ signature song, an immaculately-constructed piece of post-metal that features guitarist Mike Sullivan’s understated virtuosity at finger-tapping and knowing exactly how and when to use his loop pedals. Speaking of, it’s kinda odd that we’ve gotten this far in the list without even mentioning Sullivan, who, as guitarist, has a sort of de facto leadership role in the band. But his ability to do exactly what each song needs, which often means stepping back and letting Cook and Turncrantz run the show, is a big part of what makes this band great.
It’s easy to think of Russian Circles primarily as a studio band because, well, they make kick-ass records. But also because their sound is dense and layered and they only have three full-time members, so they obviously have to rely pretty substantially on multitracking. But they are still crushingly heavy live, thanks largely to how well Sullivan knows his way around a pedalboard. This live set from Belgium captures that brilliantly.
There was a critical consensus when this album came out that the songs felt a little more feral than fussed-over, and that rough-around-the-edges quality will be pretty apparent by the time the album is halfway over. The chuggy bass works perfectly on tracks like “Vorel,” coming across more as an organic outgrowth of the songwriting than like a post-metal take on “Kill ‘Em All,” which is sometimes more the case on their earliest work. There are also some really intense mid-song tempo shifts that briefly make us think of technical death metal, a genre that we can imagine these guys listen to, but would never ever describe them as. We wouldn’t argue with anyone who made this their #1 or #2 pick.
Holy HELL, did they ever go hard on this one. This was Russian Circles’ pandemic album, and it shows in every single note. It’s the sound of a creative mind in isolation scratching ferociously at the walls. We have to imagine that, at some point, they were tempted to title it “Quarantine” because that’s the best possible description of its aesthetic. The YouTuber critics at Thralls of Metal put it best with two perfect encapsulations of “Gnosis’” whole deal: “The riffs in half of these songs are out to hurt you” and (paraphrased): “I never thought I’d stank-face to Russian Circles.” We couldn’t put it better. The one outlier, “O Braonáin,” a dreamy 105-second lullaby, sounds like something you could play at an Irish funeral, but shouldn’t, because when the first notes of “Betrayal” hit without warning, the deceased’s family would be very upset with you. This record is awesome, and a legitimate contender for #1.
This was probably Russian Circles’ heaviest work before “Gnosis” dropped over a decade later, and it is just about perfect. The songwriting is top-notch. The see-sawing dynamics – loud and soft, abrasive and sonorous, grandiose and modest – are cohesive and organically intertwined. And album opener “309” is an unassailable masterpiece, a twisty and complex 9-minute scorcher that brings together thrash, doom, ambient, and an overarching apocalyptic sensibility that carries throughout the whole record.
