News.RttP{piggy died :(}

In my bookstore travels I noticed Continuum Publishing's series of
elongated record reviews called 33 1/3. These palm-sized-paperbacks contain 100 or so pages in which various writers/scholars expound upon long-since released but influential albums by a series of pop artists. Although I keep looking, I NEVER see any metal albums in the series (Hendrix, Tull, and
Zeppelin are a start, but only on a Rolling Stone level, hardly kvlt as
Heavy Roatation). Initial reactions to a book about an album, taken as a
whole, may be fittingly sceptical, even if we are familiar with the writer.
Norman Mailer may indeed have a lot to say about Celtic Frost's Emporor's
Return (if confronted with it). However, we all experience our music on an
individual basis, so who the fuck cares what someone else has to say about
Exile on Main Street? But then again, what is the point of reading a
review, much less writing one? You can read a review, but the listening
experience (particularly for extreme metal) is as individual as a person's
DNA. The concert (or drinking party) may be the communal affirmation of
that experience, but when we put on the headphones, we are all applying the
listening experience to our own past, present, and futures (or lack
thereof). The best way to find new music is to hear about it firsthand from
an older sibling, friend, the radio, or by sheer accident.
So, with that caveat, I'd like to begin a flashback / nostalgia
series of a different sort. The 80's were a strong time for metal, and my
first impressions as a teen were profoundly hopeful, empowering, and
rebellious. We all knew how blown away we were when we first heard Reign in
Blood, and do I ever remember my disappointment with the pacing and guitar
sound of Slayer's next release, South of Heaven (still an OK album, but
hardly a follow-up to RIB). Others will not agree, that South of Heaven is
their favorite release by Slayer. Point proven.
I begin with Voivod's third release, Killing Technology (1987).
You never knew quite what to expect from Voivod. The band kept reinventing
themselves, not for the sake of following whatever trends were afoot, it
was more like a progression like their Mascot from Morgoth: on 'War and
Pain' he was a soldier, on 'Rrroooaaarrr!!!" he'd upgraded his genetic
structure into a mega-tank the U.S. Army would jizz over, and on 1987's
"Killing Technology" he'd become a spider-creature in space,
half-genetic/half-mechanized like Darth Vader, kept alive and dangerous
through wires, gauges, and control panels (drummer Away / Michael Langevein
sure has a knack for detail in those album covers). Voivod's progression
from Punk-Thrash executioners to technical math metal was somewhat
unexpected, but it worked somehow.
When KT was first released by Noise Records in 1987, the first thing I
noticed was that the crisper, cleaner production by Harris Johns actually
brought out their distortion and burtality more to the forefront. While the first albums contain great thrash metal that
withstands the test of time, sometimes the raw production was tough for
some reviewers to get around. Xavier Russell of Kerrang! Magazine verily
CRUCIFIED "War and Pain" (he went so far as to nickname them 'A-VOID-Vod'),
but "Killing Technology" reversed his opinion of the band 180 degrees.
The next, and most remarkable thing on KT was Piggy's (Denis D'Amour's)
guitar work. His riffs now contained more diminished and augmented
than power chords, and he'd taken full advantage of their dissonant
properties now that Voivod has progressed further into their Sci-Fi song
concepts. The effect was disorienting (as space and nether-regions will
impact the human psyche) but effective. When you move an augmented chord up
or down the neck by whole steps (2 frets at a time), and Diminished chords
a step-and-a-half (three frets at a time), you technically have the same
chord, the notes have only switched positions on the strings as you go
along. Songs were full of this technique, along with strange time
signatures and structures. It really was strange to hear, but it was still
Voivod: sharp-edged riffs, brutal vocal patterns, and thunderous drums. The
progression has a profound impact on me, still reeling from bands like Metallica,
Slayer, Possessed, Kreator to name just a few. Voivod sounded different than any other
thrash band out there.
The title track introduces the album with an eerie soundscape
detailing the cockpit of the spaceship you see on the cover. The Voivod
creature breathes softly in the background, with the obvious assistance of
a respirator. Suddenly a persistent beeping emerges to the forefront of the
mix, sounding blips of an approaching object on the radar screen. This goes
on for 48 seconds until the album announces, in a robotic voice ìWE ARE
CONNECTEDî. It resumes for four more blips, then the band rips through the
ambient tomb with a tribal assault. At first it sounds like a standard
bludgeoning we'd come to expect from hearing Voivod before, but the time
change announced by the verse moves the riff up and across the strings six
ways to Sunday. Confronted with this odd technicality, the listener isn't
allowed enough time to turn away when Snake (Denis Belanger) begins his
lyrics. His snarling has retained all of its authority, but as the song
progresses he recites some of the words with a repetetive, robotic monotone
in keeping with the cybernetic creature on the cover.
A few minutes into the song, it's apparent that the band are now
approaching their music as narrative rather than the straight-shot Venom
worship they'd previously been known for. While not strictly a concept
album, the band structure the songs on KT according to the unified themes
of space conflict, catastrophic meltdown, and continuing triumph of
nature's hostility over human exploration (no matter what the terrain).
After the second chorus, the band breaks down into an eerie interlude with
backwards-gating, heavy delay, and simulated ëwarning' sounds.
You're going to pay for this
Ready or not . . .
A sudden stop, then the song speeds up into a jagged lunge. Images
of predator and prey emerge, as if the Voivod are relentlessly stalking
their dinner through an asteroid field. Then they reach their quarry with
muted subtlety first, then thrashing aggression by song's end.
ëOverreaction' starts off with Blacky's lead-in on bass. Voivod
definitely knew how to play, but what set Blacky apart was his raw,
abrasive tone, picking style (he sounded like he was using an switchblade as a pick sometimes), and his scale walking. They added up to a
technique which apparently helped influence Jason Newsted's playing. Once
the track gets underway, you notice that the dissonant chord voicings of
the previous title track aren't just a fluke; Voivod's writing approach has
indeed pushed beyond its previously lo-fi boundaries. Madness, as a human
reaction to encroaching disaster, seems to be another thematic yarn
unspooling from this record. That, and the impeccable theme that our doom is brought about from devices of our own making (in this song, nuclear power), unifies this record.
ìTornadoî comes in next with a sinister thundering riff--its structure designed to invoke terror,
particularly of storms. The verse glides into a deceptively Discharge-sounding 4/4 bludgeoning, as though you're belting it down the highway while the storm chases you from the malevolent sky grinning at you from your rearview mirror. Snake belts his lyrics like a predator, and as the
song progresses Piggy's guitar lines sound like something you might hear
emanating from the Emergency Broadcast System, when it is no longer a
fucking test. The bridge moves up and down the fretboard like a funnel cloud, back and forth in an illusory simple pattern. Then the final chorus, which keeps repeating into the
fade-out, is probably the creepiest part of the song.
The next one ëToo Scared to Scream' is my least favorite on the
record, but only in the shadow of the other cuts. The vocals are more in
chant/hypno mode than the usual throat-shredding, but the music isn't missing any of those signature
elements balancing aggression with peculiarity. Full of paranoia and apprehension, Snake seems more Earthbound during this song than the others (during one verse he tells us "I run away from everybody / I'm an experimental schizo" *pronounced skiz-zo, LOL*), perhaps more in keeping with their King Crimson influences than Motorhead. Nevertheless, the song builds up into a more engaging pattern after the main verse, and its central theme of urban wariness rather than sci-fi exploration seems to be a harbinger of their approaches on later albums like "Nothingface" and "Phobos."
"Forgotten in Space" is my favorite cut. I've noticed with too many albums that bands will put their least shitty songs towards the back. But you know you have a classic, like 'Melissa,' 'Master of Puppets,' or 'Reign in Blood' when the quality stays above ground throughout the running time. This track has my favorite story, of a prisoner ejected from a penal colony in space. No, not transported, not transferred, just basically shoved out into the fucking vacuum.

Dressed with a skin tight pressure suit
Swimming in the universe
It's the best place you can be
It's the last place you will be

Along with the labrynthine structure of the song, there's a more pragmatic element to consider: 'Space' is the most headbanging of the lot, especially during the guitar solos. Compounded with the lyrics and their delivery, "Forgotten in Space" is one of my favorite Voivod songs.
This far into an album, most bands seem to sag. But presentation is everything, and 'Ravenous Medicine' continues to forge into human fears of the unknown, and of changes imposed upon us by uninvited forces. This track explores the medical horror angle you might find in the films of David Cronenberg, where the results of experimentation make Frankenstein's Monster seem like an acheivement worthy of the Nobel Peace Prize.
The band's discipline with their craft is actually the most transparent in this cut. They begin by bludgeoning with a minor-diminished pattern, punctuated by the tribal underpinnings that by this point in the album is grafted to their newfound direction and skill. Then, by the time the verse plunges in, they descend into almost Venom-simple punk riff that's almost laughable in its uptempo bounciness, until the subject matter becomes more apparent through the vocals. Mutatation, Mutilation, Abasement unto you the listener, either in the role of volunteer or participant in the grisly experiments taking place. Do it for Science.
And as the song progresses into repeated chanting “They're going to do it to you” you feel dirtier and dirtier for your complicity, or your victimization.
The next track, “Order of the Blackguards” is an apt contribution to the concepts of KT, but could also be seen as a testament to its time. I don't think Voivod were ever on the PMRC's shitlist, but those hearings in the mid-80's America impacted rock music, especially metal, on a global scale. Granted, you don't see many independent releases brandishing the black mark “Parental Advisory” stickers. However, immigration and border officials can still turn foreign bands away from touring this great freedomland of ours. They don't even have to have a reason, other than the tracks laid by the PMRC (which within a few years had become a pretty lame duck) and the McKaren-Walter Act of ___.
The song is one of the more thrashy songs of the bunch, more compliant to the staightforward approach of Sodom and Kreator. “The books are burning on . . . Your mind's running slow.” I wonder if the song is about the censorship trends of the day, and of the possible future. George Carlin makes sense when he points out that legislators want to control language because that's the way you control thought. The pacing is this one has no letup, it actually gets most intense towards the middle as Piggy's soloing gets more ferocious. Then the bridge hits you like a phalanx of cops in full riot gear: “The Blackguards Control, The Blackguards Control, The Blackguards Control” is repeated as the song nears its end, alarm clock style.
“This is Not an Exercise” seems a fine epilogue for this album. First, the balance between technicality and brutality is again made manifest in obvious force. Second, the catastrophic results of nuclear technology gone awry are central to the lyrics (Remember that TV movie “The Day After”?). And finally, there is an eyewitness feel to this song which perfectly illustrates Voivod's progression an talent. They have made the effort to make it clear that they had not completely abandoned their thrash and bludegeon approach on their first two releases, they have retained it and made it unique with the progressive and hyper-spacey seasonings of Pink Floyd, King Crimson, Ornette Coleman, and dare I say even Frank Zappa.
Although “Cockroaches” closes the album, I remember it as a bonus track when CDs were prized over vinyl and not vice versa. Although not a straight-up thrash anthem (it has some odd time signatures and riffage), its brevity and compressed feel incorporate the same elements so attributable to this album. Whereas the beginning title track clocks in at over seven minutes, this one barely hits the three minute mark, closing an excellent and canonical album by one of the best metal bands of the 1980's.
Voivod's next release, “Dimension Hatross” would be a continuation of the dircetion they undertook with KT. You could almost place the two albums side-by-side as a double album, so similar are they. Not redundant, mind you--Piggy chooses some motifs for his riffs in DH that really seem inspired by actual alien interference. But it was also the videos that Voivod shot for the tracks “Tribal Convictions” and “Psychic Vacuum” where their creativity really showed through. Although obscure (VH1 sometimes plays them on “Metal Mania,” when they have exhusted every Whitesnake and Europe video first), there are reported plans to release them on a big DVD set later in the year, which will hopefully include some concert footage. Although I've only seen the band twice (once in 1987 and in 2003), Snake was always a great frontman and the band really had their changes tight. The band have been through many incarnations, sometimes crippling, but KT is a testament to some of their finest work, and a perfect introduction for the uninitiated.

sorry about the fucky line breaks, if any

this article appeared in Jess's farewell issue of HEAVY ROTATION (summer '05 i think?), one of my more recent attempts to rekindle my writing routine. Turns out it was relatively timely. Bummer. RIP PIGGY THIS AFFECTS ME A FUCK LOT MORE THAN DIMEBAG SORRY