Heavy Metal Ketchup #9: Iced Earth, Hollowpoint, Holy Moses, more

What does it mean that, of the five ear-bleeding albums accounted for below, the two I get long-winded about are both by bands of manly men from Tampa, Florida -- neither playing especially sun-shiney music? Yes, it's a major swing state. No, I won't get superstitious.

Taylor Hollingsworth, Bad Little Kitty (Mass Music): Let it be noted that this Alabama-based alleged "rough-and-tumble garage rock scorcher" actually sounds more like a far-less-than-scorching Jesus and Mary Chain tribute: Loud Beach Boys without any singers who can pull it off, in other words. The more you listen, the more precious it feels, especially the punchline-free tape-manipulation-collage title track joke routine it ends on. 

Hollowpoint, Dust & Blood (Hollowpoint): Self-released dude-rock from Tampa -- good guitar player; too often lummoxy and cumbersome otherwise. Think James Hetfield blowharding for latter-day Soungarden, maybe, though there's a more convincing '70s-blooze-sludge attack to "Mountain Stomp" and "Forever Insane" and "Outta My Head." "Decomission" is a good "Immigrant Song" rip, and "C-Blues" a true beaut of a guitar instrumental. Words balance possible secret Christian-rock leanings (like lots of grunge-associated Southern bands in the post-Collective Soul /Creed era -- one title is "In God We Trust") with caballero geography  (in "Mexico") about the Rio Grande. The chorus of "Whiskeyman," where in just one more day the sun will come and wash us away (hey, aren't those basically "Black Hole Sun" lyrics?) got stuck in my head for a whole week. Which is more than I can say for most post-grunge signed to bigger labels lately.

Holy Moses, Agony of Death (Wacken/SPV): By-the-book Teutonic über-thrash fronted by a blond goddess who frequently screams like a plain old boring guy. Longest word in a song title (and longest song, at 8:17) in "Pseudohalluzination," but aren't all halluzinations already pseudo by definition? How redundant! Sabrina Classen's dress on the comic-bookish album cover is a machine made out of metal, and it doesn't look comfortable at all.

Iced Earth, The Crucible of Man (Something Wicked, Part 2) (Steamhammer/SPV): I totally respect these guys. As Tampa men playing British glory-metal go, they are clearly the real deal. They are not lazy, and have no use for ugliness or mediocrity -- they've put out a viking's boatload worth of albums over the years, and a ton of thought and finesse goes into those albums. They come up with real melodies, often (in "Epilogue" at the end of this record, for instance) gorgeous demi-classical ones. "The Dimension Gauntlet" is undeniably anthemic, and "A Gift or a Curse" can probably hold its own against most any Queensryche-type pomp-and-circumstance ballad you've heard lately. Only problem is that I almost never actually enjoy listening to this stuff. Never was a big Iron Maiden fan, either. My loss, no doubt. Regardless, I still plan to keep Iced Earth's definitive 2004 two-disc career overview The Blessed and the Damned on my shelf for future reference. 

Infidel,  I, Oathbreaker (Caroline): Stoner metal, I guess.They manage to take "Enter Sandman"/"Sex Type Thing" type riffs and sometimes moderately John Garner (of Sir Lord Baltimore) type howling and make it consistently plodding and ignorable. Which is probably an accomplishment of sorts.