Blog — Page 161 of 279

Thus Let Us Drink Beer – Co-Conspirators

Co-Conspirators Brewing Company and the awesome designs of their cans instantly caught my eye when I was perusing the craft beer section.

Word around the campfire has that it after having excelled in DIY brewing competitions and having first convened as part of the Merri Mashers homebrew-centric club with a sincere passion for all things beer, two couples proceeded to conspire together to found their own brewery.

With the mission statement that can be encapsulated in the maxim to make great classic beers while pushing the boundaries of style, they have certainly accomplished their objectives with what has become one of my favourites of their emissions, i.e. The Matriarch NEIPA.

Clocking in at 6.5 ABV, this tarty, hazy beauty foams instantaneously after pouring and spreads her personality with aromas of citrus and fruits. Teaming the Matriarch up with a smoky Islay whisky, not unlike the Ardbeg An Oa that I had with it, elevates the enjoyment event further.

The Butcher expression takes the game up a notch as it is a quite a bit bolder with its both tropical and refreshingly dank aromas, which are embedded in a tasty sea of hop and a pleasantly lingering bitterness which culminates in a dry finish.

Co-Conspirators’ The Undertaker is a rye kind of guy. The Undertaker is actually a pretty good companion to accompany the Sour Matriarch on a lonely night, which makes for a spicy tete-a-tete indeed. Piney. Citrussy. Fruity. Tropical.

A new recent discovery is the Middleman, which can be classified as extended family of the Sour Matriarch as he is also resting on a foundation of grapefruits, citrus and an elongated finish through the alley of pine.

Needless to say, that each of the characters are represented and depicted on the respective cans in the trademark Co-Conspirators cartoon style, which consistently pervades their portfolio. It makes for a nice hello every time you encounter one of the Co-Conspirator family when you open the fridge.

I cannot wait to sample Co-Conspirators’ The Belgian Breakfast and the Wheelman – Blueberry which apparently also has Himalayan Salt added for good measure.

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Photo by T

J Mascis

Factory Theatre

Sydney, Australia

March 1, 2019

Dinosaur Jr. is one of those trios the mere mention of elicits goose bumps from folks devotedly invested in independent music.

While the distortion riddled mothership can turn up the volume quite a bit when it comes to dishing out riffage of gargantuan proportions, the solo explorations of their driving force, i.e. J Mascis, are channelled in more relaxed and laid-back acoustic waters. J Mascis’ sophisticated song-writing craftmanship shines through each of his refined folk-rock tunes, even more because of the deliberately low-key acoustic arrangements.

Incarnating in a live environment, J Mascis instantaneously evokes a tangible and soothing intimacy. It feels like every note coming from the man is meant to sound exactly the way it does and results from a long genesis that he has labourated about.

Distress and heartache might have always been key ingredients of Dinosaur Jr’s oeuvre, but it hardly felt rawer than tonight. While there is an overarching coherent red thread, each song feels like a plaintive microcosm of its own contributing to a whole that is much bigger than merely the sum of its visible constituents.

Stripped back in nature, the precision with which Mascis operates becomes prevalent and the way he picks and plucks, which is at times still framed by a bit of distortion, is a sight to behold.

For the ones who would not guess it or have not witnessed Mascis in the flesh, stage banter is certainly not his forte and it does not have to be as the music speaks for itself.

A memorable and immensely enjoyable apart from the fact that I will never not be delighted to witness one of the original members of one of my favourite bands ever, i.e. Deep Wound, secretly hoping to witness again what happened in 2004 after a Mascis gig when a song of their Radiobeat vinyl 7” from 1983 was performed as an unexpected encore.

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Image courtesy of Feel Presents

Watain

Factory Theatre

Sydney, Australia

February 24, 2019

Watain have somewhat come to encompass the quintessence of Black Metal for me as they combine all facets, e.g. sinister accelerated passaged, aggressive raspy vocals, melodies, riffage galore along with lyrical content circling around theistic satanism, misanthropy, individuality and more philosophical themes.

In a live context, Watain is an energetic force of nature with a consistent and, for the genre, borderline polished yet at the same time visceral and primitive sound. The fact that the band loves their rituals and pyro only amplifies their theatrics.

A well-oiled machine that takes no prisoners and expertly bulldozes whatever it may find in its way, the fact that every now and then a tune is carried by a hefty, stompy groove helps things from getting too one-dimensional.

It is remarkable that six albums into their career, highlights of the set tonight are the in-your-face songs from their most recent emission, the change of dynamics of which only enhances the fiery aural assault. While the band is certainly able to showcase nuances and can draw from a large repertoire, the songs from “Trident. Wolf. Eclipse” are a masterclass in thrashing brutality.

The chaos that ensues as a result of their sonic mayhem including quite a bit of disconcerting feedback recycling is enthusiastically celebrated by their faithful audience as they are pummelled by tremelo riffing and blast beats.

As far as tradition is concerned, they know how to honour the legacy of the genre, yet they always infuse their style with enough experimental parts to keep one on one’s toes.

Watain is without a doubt one of the most musically adept and powerful bands to have ever emerged from the grim realm of Black Metal and they offer a matching live show that is edifying.

Black Metal has always been synonymous with Norway and with its anti-establishment take on things combined with the demonization of Christianity, it has never ceased to be one of the more fascinating and obscure constituents of the partisan metal cosmos, which reached its peak during the late 1980ies.

The genesis of the movement can be boiled down to a core of disenfranchised Norwegians who made headlines with not only their musical emissions but particularly via their less savoury acts like church-burnings and murder, a group of people whose stories director Jonas Åkerlund focuses on with his drama.

Åkerlund, known for producing videos for a range of artists ranging from Madonna to Rammstein, zeros in on the aversions, animosity, inter band rivalries and relationships of the individuals who founded the band that became known as Mayhem.

Given Åkerlund’s pedigree and involvement in the black metal scene, i.e. being the drummer for the pioneering constantly envelope pushing cult outfit Bathory, he has the ability to strike the balance between an insider’s view and a more objective portrayal of the matter and he manages to go a bit further than what had been previously reported through mainstream media.

Based on Michael Moynihan and Didrik Soderlind’s non-fiction book Lords of Chaos, Åkerlund has infused Lords of Chaos with ample irony and humour to make it more than a mere glorification of the ascent of suburban teenagers to become and transform into world renowned anti-heroes.

The focus is firmly on the twisted relationships between band members Euronymous, Dead and Varg, the emergence of the band Mayhem and the transition to what to this day still operates under the banner of Burzum under the guidance of Varg.

The “interesting”, in the best way possible, choice of Sigur Ros to provide the soundtrack creates an interesting counterpoint to the subject matter and adds another dimension apart from the shock value the mainstream audience would expect.

In essence, the merit of Åkerlund’s work lies in not merely showcasing the horror movie elements and revelling in the violent acts that lie within the story but the portrayal of extreme angst, personal demons rather than the ones informing the lyrics, the ominous atmosphere and underlying factors that caused what ultimately eventuated, i.e. murder and mayhem.

The Water of Life – Old Kempton

It comes with the history of Australia that it does not have a history that is particularly long in harking back, so it is nice every now and then to come across an entity that found its inception in the nineteen hundred not unlike Old Kempton Distillery , which is located in Dysart House, a colonial mansion in Kempton, which is nestled between Hobart and Launceston.

Now, while “Old” Kempton usquebaugh is certainly a telling name, it does certainly not have to rely on its heritage and rich history as what I am about to wax lyrical about is something else:

Having originally originated as the producer of single malt whisky, with each ingredient harvested on the original site on the Plenty Highway/estate and with those operations going until 2015, the attention to detail and assurance of quality of the ingredients reverberates on throughout Old Kempton’s current operations that have seen the distillery not only move to a new site but elevated its status into becoming a veritable player on the ever competitive global stage of quality whisky distillers.

Clocking in at 64% ABV, their limited run Sherry Cask matured Strength is something to be experienced.

Without an iota of artificial colouring, this sweet and robust little double distilled number was channelled through copper pot stills, which makes for a real sherry treat.

Saying that it is a solid drop would be an understatement par excellence.

While my first exposure to Old Kempton’s spiritus frumenti was certainly not underwhelming, their individually numbered Pinot Small Cask Single Malt Whisky small batch single malt whisky blew both my mind and palate.

What was meant to commemorate the convict William Henry Ellis, i.e. the founder of Dysart House, encapsulates and showcases the essence of why Tasmanian whiskies are held in such high esteem.

Handcrafted at the hoochery and matured in specially-selected ex-pinot oak casks, the subtlety of gives it nuances that feel almost too dear to be just swallowed down.

While I usually am not averse to swirling a good drop for an ample amount of time around my palate, I find it hard to let this one go down the hatch.

A visit to Old Kempton seems mandatory when we are visiting Tasmania later this year to cover the 2019 incarnation of the Dark Mofo festival.

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Photo courtesy of Old Kempton