The Bulletmonks
Napalm Records
Street: 04.07
The Bulletmonks = Monster Magnet + Motorhead + Turbonegro + Clutch
Got a hankerin’ for some good old straightforward heavy rock n’ roll? Germany’s The Bulletmonks debut record, Weapons of Mass Destruction, is apt to please. However, I’m a bit confused that either the band or the label is calling their sound “Mosh n’ Roll.” There isn’t really anything here that I could see inspiring a lengthy pit session at a show; more like some fist-pumping, headbanging and beer-raising. The speed I thought I would encounter when first spinning the disc isn’t really a driving force behind the album’s songs. It’s a mixed bag of greasy grooving, some stoner-esqe melodies and plenty of Motörhead-inspired guitar soloing. But as far as great jamming music, which is hard to find these days, it more than qualifies. The diversity amongst the songs keep things popping and fresh and the spirit just ups the ante; the whole thing stirs up memories of great classic rock bands while still sounding entirely new. –Bryer Wharton

Casiotone for the Painfully Alone
Vs. Children
Tomlab
Street: 04.07
Casiotone for the Painfully Alone = Cars & Trains + Magnetic Fields
Elouise or Eleanor (whoever this possibly fictional bitch is) has finally disappeared from Owen Ashworth’s songwriting repertoire. She has been replaced by bank robbers and abortions, which I feel is much more exciting. The newest Casiotone album is full of stylistic changes, the biggest being the huge change in instrumentation. The most electronic-sounding instrument on this album is a melotron, and it is kind of refreshing. The Casiotone has been replaced with a baby grand, apparently. This change went really well, though; Ashworth managed to maintain his slightly depressing, boyish charm. And his droning monotone voice is complimented well by the addition of acoustic instruments. I feel as though the highlight, however, is the Plan B-inspired ballad “Killers,” but maybe that is just because it hits so close to home. –Cody Hudson

Children            
Hard Times Hanging at the End of the World
Kemado
Street: 05.12
Children = The Sword + Early Man + (early) Metallica
Although I absolutely loved Children’s one-sided, one-song 12” release of Death Tribe this past year, Hard Times Hanging at the End of the World doesn’t do such a good job when it comes to grabbing me by the balls and not letting go. It’s definitely good; that isn’t the issue. The problem is that the band has become so enamored with Ride the Lightning and Master of Puppets-style riffing that the guitars seem to separate from the rhythm section far too often, and therefore allows the entire record to come across as more-than-a-bit pretentious and not-entirely-cohesive. It’s a fun listen, and the Metallica-cum-stoner rock sound will go over in many a bar across the U.S., but in the long run, I fear that the band will become forgotten due to their lack of being able to carve their own niche in a memorable way, instead relying on formulas that haven’t been proven to hold an audience. –Gavin Hoffman

Crown the Lost
Blind Faith Loyalty
Cruz Del Sur
Street: 05.05
Crown the Lost = Metallica + Slough Feg + Trivium
Pittsburg’s Crown the Lost has made a curious entry into the realm of modern melodic thrash. Crown the Lost play a mid-paced, highly melodic form of thrash metal. The NWOBHM vibe seeps into the record, but so does the melodic style of more well-known so-called modern thrash-metal bands like Trivium. The vocals are definitely the most unique portion of the record—they’re sung in a higher-ranged voice, aside from some very fleeting metalcore-type screams. The guitarwork has some great melodies and includes some technical prowess, but I do find myself losing the rhythm portion of the songs after a few listens. Tempo transitions get a little bungled and at times, sound like they’re played sloppy. Such is the feeling of the album overall—after the initial feeling of Crown the Lost’s sound being different from the rest of the pack, the length of the songs and the album as a whole wears thin and becomes a listening chore rather than pleasure. –Bryer Wharton