For attempted proof in life that “less is more,” we could try to advertise TGI Friday’s appetizer portion sizes, or, far more auspiciously, we could consider the Canadian DUO (that’s two people for you math majors out there) of drummer and bassist singer Greber who foment up this beautiful mess of metal noise which, perhaps best of all, is so comfortably inhabiting of already existent metal tactics.
Actually, like the last band I reviewed Cloud Rat and like The Smashing Pumpkins on my cutesy favorite “1979” on the post I mention before, Greber open their album with some computer ambience, as if in shameless jibing and compromising with the times we live in, relinquishing style and endorsing fully the concept of approachability. “Backhanded Interest,” then, the album’s opener, as I alluded to before, is essentially a la carte, smoke shop speed metal, with albeit a couple things that will really impress you — band tightness, a six/eight time signature, and the fact that drummer Steve Vargas sounds like he has about seven arms. There’s almost like an R&B-like sense of rhythm to how he orchestrates these symphonic slews of snare hits, within the band’s grooves which early and often can give way to both pauses as well as changes in tempo and/or time-signature. “Prophetic” is a standout along these lines which slows down two thirds of the way through into a sort of half-dissembled outro with dual vocals. One of the singers sounds a little like Tim Armstrong, for a sort of half-a**ed fusion of punk and metal like we had yesterday, but despite the dispositional seriousness this is metal with structurally an implicit sense of humor — all of these songs willing to be melodic and then to collapse, or self-amputate, so as to move along like a complete, spherical ball. The slow tempo of “By Any Other Name” gives the album added freshness through energetic variety, all the while retaining the spooky sense of the spontaneous a la a permutation on the time signature and a timely volume dissipation when the vocal starts. Most called to mind around here for me are another duo, the Melvins, with Marc Bourgon’s bass really sounding just like Buzz Osborne’s guitar (I just learned recently that PEDALS on the bass are actually a thing at all). “Sever the head of the master”, at one point Bourgon barks, and Cemetery Preston sets as an overall multifarious feast for the sonic insurgent at large.