Sunday, 13 August 2017

52 Albums That Shaped My Life - #36

Down - NOLA
(Elektra Records, 1995)
Buy the album here

I turned over the CD case of Down’s debut album in the old Virgin Megastore in Glasgow, and was met with an image that would burn itself in to my brain.  A thorn-crowned Jesus figure with a joint hanging casually from his lips with dark shadows for eyes, nearly drowned in monochrome roughness.  A relatively mainstream metal fan in those days, I found the extreme metal scene to be foreign, out of reach, and filled with noises my ears couldn’t understand.  I was intrigued by what I heard, but I didn’t know why, and ended up backing away from it for years.  While Down aren’t extreme metal, this picture on the back cover of their first album, NOLA, generated the same subconscious response.  This was not my usual fare.  It had an underground feel to it despite the familiar and influential names involved.  While Down was comprised of Pepper Keenan of Corrosion of Conformity, Kirk Windstein and Todd Strange of Crowbar, Jimmy Bower of Eyehategod, and Phil Anselmo of Pantera, something about the independent, DIY image that the artwork, logo, and track listing conveyed had me questioning if it was going to be something I could handle.  Problem was, I was hooked on the band already, I just didn’t know it.  I anxiously walked by the CD several times until my curiosity completely consumed me, and I ended up laying out £15 for it in 2000.  That’s £400 new money.  I had entered a new world.


As “Temptation’s Wings” filled my room with 60s and 70s-inspired, metal-edged hard rock and Phil Anselmo’s growl, I was simultaneously relieved, disappointed, and incredibly excited.  Relieved that this wasn’t some bizarre, experimental side project that I might have to pretend to like; disappointed that it wasn’t exactly that and a bit more; and excited that I had just found a band that represent everything I’ve ever wanted from music.  The riffs are big but aren’t trying to be heavier than they need to be.  The drums are concerned with feel and gentle details as much as getting your head banging.  The leads and harmonised guitar parts are about emotion and storytelling rather than showing off any technical prowess.  The vocals are aggressive but with a crooning quality to them that provides this stoner rock with punch and melody.  This is all wrapped in the swampy production that has become associated with the Nola scene in general, and more specifically with the self-generated lore of band production base, Nodferatu’s Lair, to create a sound that nods to influences but is stirringly unique. 

By the time the final riff of “Temptation’s Wings” blended into the sharper opening of “Lifer”, I was committed.  I remember nearly breaking my neck on first hearing this song.  Bower’s insistent percussion mandates ferocious headbanging, and to this day I consider “Lifer” a pit-starter with soul.  It’s familiar lyrical and thematic territory for Pantera fans, but with this Southern Rock setting the edges soften, the puffed-out chests deflate, and honest emotion starts to seep through.  It’s heavy metal that wants you to snap your neck, but look after your soul and the souls of those around you.


My memories of hearing these first two Down songs are so strong that I often struggle to look beyond them for my favourite tracks, but “Stone The Crow” steps right up and demands its place alongside these tracks.  If anything, it ups the Southern Rock vibe, gently caressing you with its lilting down home guitar, while simultaneously hitting you hard with lyrics that only hint at the strain in Anselmo’s heart regarding his Southern upbringing, identity, and his place in a culture that is inherently racist.  While Anselmo’s racist outbursts have tainted Down’s career, the band’s identity is not entirely caught up in false or blinded notions of the Good Ol’ South.  For some, it’s more about Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, guitar riffs, and a lot of weed.  While crushing odes like “Eyes of the South”, with its incredible jammed-out intro, gigantic bass sound, and unstoppable twin guitars, revel in imagery of the South and love of it what it offers to some of its inhabitants, Down’s true identity is found in “Hail to the Leaf” and Nola’s defining track, “Bury Me In Smoke”.  In the former, the sound of a bong bubbling away undercuts the heavy riff and more aggressive and direct drumming to intertwine with Anselmo’s tortured lyrics and create an atmosphere of clouded judgement and self-hatred.  In the latter, we find Down’s declaration of greatness.  “Bury Me In Smoke” is a huge and confident song fuelled by weed and driven by brilliant guitar riffs.  It brings together all the elements Down displayed in the preceding songs, but knows where this album’s, and this band’s, heart truly lies: In allowing the main riff to fade away then briefly reprising it before the album finishes, Down remind us that at its core, this is music for people who love heavy and honest guitars.  All the drugs, self-hatred, and ideas about the South can step to one side: Hail to the riff.

No comments:

Post a Comment