#mind funk

Exhorder: The Law (1992)

Here it is, kids: arguably the best Pantera album recorded by a band other than Pantera.

As many of you know, Exhorder’s 1992 sophomore LP, The Law (and its predecessor, Slaughter in the Vatican, for that matter), bear an uncanny resemblance to Pantera’s concurrently released Cowboys from Hell and Vulgar Display of Power, and there was absolutely zero coincidental about it!

While there’s no way to prove this beyond a reasonable doubt (and, as we know, history is written by the victors), this New Orleans’ quintet are widely credited with establishing the fundamental groove metal blueprint (smudged by southern sludge) that their nemesis subsequently perfected and rode all the way to the heavy metal big leagues.

Not only were Kyle Thomas’ enraged roaring and self-empowering lyrics absolute ringers for fellow N.O.L.A. native Phil Anselmo, but Vinnie LaBella and Jay Ceravolo’s muscular, molten lava rhythm guitars likely contributed to Diamond Darrell’s transformation into Dimebag Darrell. 

Though I will say, knowing that inspiration can also be a two-way-street, that The Law’s blood-red cover art sort of looks like cross between Pantera’s I Am the Night (1985) and Power Metal (‘88) albums.

Meaning that the jury is still out (and probably always will be), but it doesn't take a musical genius to realize that both bands were mining a very similar vein at exactly the same time -- one that saw the brutal values of thrash and death metal honed to a groove-oriented, bluntly focused approach. 

And Exhorder's second LP showed marked improvement over their flawed debut; pushing the boundaries of their aggressive sound so as to radically broaden their dynamic and melodic range, without losing touch with its core elements. 

Prime examples included the title track, “Soul Search Me,” the alternately thrashy and sludgy “Unforgiven,” and “(Cadence Of) The Dirge, ” all of which employed a dizzying array of neck-snapping starts and stops with the monolithic force of a “Primal Concrete Sledge” -- oops! 

But Exhorder weren’t averse to trying new things, so while the tangled riffs of “I Am the Cross” recalled prog-thrashers Dark Angel, the elastic guitar licks and slap-bass of “Un-Born Again” fell in with countless other bands (Mordred, Mind Funk, Saigon Kick, Faith No More, etc.) that were flirting with the short-lived funk metal craze of the time.

Yet the most conspicuous number here was Exhorder’s surprisingly faithful rendition of Black Sabbath’s “Into the Void,” which stands in stark contrast to the mold-breaking, risk-taking experiments all around it, but was likely requisitioned for that very reason by the good folks at Roadrunner Records. 

All of the above made The Law a valiant effort that would go down as a minor extreme metal classic of the early ‘90s, and yet it still couldn’t prevent Exhorder from breaking up a short time later, no doubt feeling robbed (and they wouldn’t be the last) by their old friend Anselmo as Pantera shot to fame.

But this wouldn’t be the last fans heard of singer Thomas, who went on to front the excellent (if short-lived) Floodgate, before joining Chicago doom gods Trouble, then southern fried stoned rockers Alabama Thunderpussy, and finally helming a partial Exhorder reunion for 2019’s Mourn the Southern Skies album.

p.s. -- Some of these words evolved from my All-Music Guide review of The Law.

Primus: Tales from the Punchbowl (1995)

The last time I purchased a Primus LP was 25 years ago, when the lovably idiosyncratic prog/funk/alternative/metal trio released 1995’s Tales from the Punchbowl -- now let me tell you why ...

‘93‘s Pork Soda had already been a major disappointment for me, seeming at once rushed and devoid of new ideas, at least when compared to the twin triumphs that were 1990’s career-launching Frizzle Fry and ‘92’s commercial breakthrough Sailing the Seas of Cheese.

But when I heard Tales from the Punchbowl’s brilliant introductory single, “Wynona’s Big Brown Beaver,” I threw all caution to the wind and rushed to buy Primus’ fourth long-player, fully confident that a return-to-form was all but guaranteed.

After all, “Wynona’s” double-entendre-filled character comedy both harked back to, and even improved upon, prior favorites like “John the Fisherman,” “Jerry was a Race Car Driver” and “Tommy the Cat” -- plus its music video was so wonderfully original and exquisitely weird!

So maybe my expectations going in were just too lofty, because except for the compelling, sinister melodies found on “Southbound Pachyderm,” the rest of Tales from the Punchbowl left me cold -- ice cold.

Beginning with forgettable, nonsensical poor cousins to the above like “Mrs. Blaileen” and “Del Davis Tree Farm” through to epic-length misadventures like “Professor Nutbutter's House of Treats” and “Over the Electric Grapevine,” which lacked even a modicum of the necessary focus to leave a lasting impression.

And don’t get me started on a non-song like “Glass Sandwich” or filler interludes like “Hellbound 17½ (Theme From)” and “De Anza Jig,” because I bet even band members Claypool, Herb and LaLonde would look back on them today and admit they were totally treading water.

Which is a bummer, because I’m just as sure that Primus have crafted some very fine songs in all the years and albums since Pork Soda and Tales from the Punchbowl, but I have neither the energy or curiosity to find out, at this stage in the game.

p.s. -- Oh, and while I can’t blame Primus for replacing the very ‘90s, low-tech digital rendering used for the original CD cover art, it’s hard to get excited about this reissue’s toy tugboat replacement, but whatever!

Saigon Kick: The Lizard (1992)

Saigon Kick’s problem was that they couldn’t decide whether they wanted to be harbingers of Alternative Metal like Jane’s Addiction or Hair Metal pin-ups like Extreme, so they tried to be both ... any guesses as to how that turned out?

Well, let me tell you ...

I clearly recall interviews of the time in which Saigon Kick guitarist and general mastermind Jason Bieler (that’s Bieler, not Bieber!) openly acknowledged that Perry Farrell and co. had shown him the way; that his band need not behave like dumb jocks in makeup and spandex to succeed.

And so, there followed a frightfully good, eclectic, even fun eponymous debut, but average sales soon put the band’s artistic courage (and their label’s support) in check, leading to even wilder musical and aesthetic schizophrenia on 1992’s sophomore album, The Lizard.

The faux-Eastern vibes of “Cruelty” are pure Jane’s Addiction and, along with comedic curios like “My Dog,” “Chanel,” and the Satriani-esque instrumental “Sleep,” stands in stark contrast to “safer” metallic gambits like “Freedom,” “All Alright,” and an achingly gorgeous ballad “Love is on the Way,” which became a minor MTV hit, but, if you ask me, was a billion times better than “More than Words”!

So, to be clear: I’ll take this half-baked exotica over mindless cock rock any day, and I still thoroughly endorse the fabulous metal riffage of “Peppermint Tribe” and title track, as well as the thoughtful alterna-pop of “God of 42nd Street” and “Feel the Same Way,” which benefit from tight vocal harmonies by Bieler and frontman Matt Kramer.

Alas, Saigon Kick’s record sales continued to lag behind their aspirational peers, and both Kramer and bassist Tom Defile made their exits before the following year’s third album, Water, leaving Bieler to do it all himself, with drummer Phil Varone and new four-stringer Chris McLernon.

No dice, the jig was up, and the 1990s music scene would soon move on without Saigon Kick as significant players, proving that, even in Rock ‘n’ Roll, you can’t always have your cake ... and eat it too.

Atom Seed: Get in Line (1990)

With their vibrant, forceful, propulsive funk-metal sound, the Atom Seed were England’s de facto answer to the Red Hot Chili Peppers -- or at least they tried to be ...

Maybe it was the easy prospect of marketing them as such that convinced FM/Revolver to sign the London-based quartet (comprised of singer Paul Cunningham, guitarist Simon James, bassist Chris Dale and drummer Amir), because they sure rose rapidly through the ranks of the city’s pub scene.

In any case, within a year of the Atom Seed’s formation, their debut full-length Get in Line was already in stores, and plucky barnstormers like “What You Say,” “Shake that Thing” and “Bitchin’,” were indeed pure Chili Peppers, leaving little to the imagination thanks to Cunningham’s percussive barks and Dale’s accomplished slap-bass shenanigans. (*)

On the rare occasions when they weren’t blatantly ripping off Flea and co., the Atom Seed recalled others, among the era’s many funk metal disciples, including the Infectious Grooves (“Rebel”), Saigon Kick (the title track) and Faith No More (“What?!”).

This reverential formula is only abandoned for three anomalies: the vaguely psychedelic groover “Shot Down,” solid acoustic ballad “Better Day,” and a righteous alt-metal trip aptly named “Castles in the Sky,” showcasing impressive escalating riffs and licks from James.

But none of it could hold a candle to the real deal R.H.C.P, as they neared the peak of their creative and commercial powers.

Later licensed for American release by London Records, Get in Line unfortunately went absolutely nowhere and the Atom Seed were promptly dropped (**) before too long, leading to their break-up before the summer of 1993.

* The talented Dale went on to play with Bruce Dickinson’s Skunkworks project.

** The demos for a sophomore album entitled Hard Sell Paranoia were allegedly rejected and said album allegedly still lingers, unreleased in somebody’s vaults.