In a recent interview, I noticed Daniel Mongraine react slightly when informed “The kids in Quebec, they always say, no one can play like Martyr.” He did not so much pause, but register that fact while squinting; all I could think was, he knows. Martyr are, all around, the most instrumentally proficient band that is active today. All of Martyr’s albums collectively contain the peak of musicianship in all modern metal disciplines. Martyr’s 2000 album Warp Zone is criminally under-discussed in the technical death metal cannon; perhaps in part to it’s loose affiliation to modern death metal itself. The tricky thing with Warp Zone, or Martyr as a whole, is that is never clear if they are an old school DM outfit or cutting edge pioneers… Perhaps both. The fretless bass tone is reminiscent of Cynic, and the guitars are undeniably Holdsworthian. The drums recall some Hoglan-esque thrashing and even channel a bit of Tomas Haake. It feels old school, and yet it’s extremity enables it to feel startlingly current. As the years are collected, each wave of new releases must outdo the next with ever expanding complexity, and while albums that were impressive for their base ability have lost their lustre, Warp Zone remains as prolific. As posterity has drawn the dazzle of technicality towards newer and boundary pushing projects, what is left with Warp Zone is pure insurmountable song writing. I love every solo, every time change, and the initiative of all involved on this. Drummer Pat Hamelin does not break out here like he does on succeeding disc Feeding The Abscess, but he adds a kinetic punch to the band after their gloomier, Death inspired debut Hopeless Hopes. While every member brings a profound level of ability to the table, Francois Mongraine’s dual role as guttural vocalist and bassist has turned out to be one of the band’s biggest claim to fame. His mastery of his instrument is a nitrogen combination of jazz melody and sweeping detail; he is always heard. The album begins with the same theme Hopeless Hopes used as an outtro and delves into “Virtual Emotions”, a truly evocative punch. A highlight later on is the redolent soloing in “Carpe Diem” and the tech metal embellishment in “Retry.Abort.Ignore?” (which contains a jazz beat very similar to one found in Ion Dissonance’s Breathing Is Irrelevant). The album closes with “Realms Of Reverie”, a wonderful track that assimilates all the distinct trends and riffs of the entire album and restructures them into a wonderfully cohesive closing melody. It just proves how methodical the writing process was (which is something I wish was developed more thoroughly in Between The Buried And Me’s Colors). I do not consider Martyr a death metal band, although I catch myself calling them such… With Warp Zone, they just seemed ahead of the game, in their own sphere, completely invested in their creation. This is one of the greatest heavy releases ever made, and I hope this edition of WW is the first of many writings to highlight this unsung masterpiece.

Note: For the full treatment, make sure you pick Martyr, Havoc in Quebec City on dvd for great sound, editing, and a flawless performance that soars above any other.

- Alec

Kyuss‘s Welcome To Sky Valley is phase two in Hearwax’s (well, my) recognition of the awesomeness of Josh Homme.  While last week’s Weekly Worship from yours truly was an album that he produced, Sky Valley is an album that actually involves him.  Not only that, but it is the best album he has ever been involved in (other than Songs For The Deaf).

Need something other than that to go on? Well, take the best stoner rock/metal you have ever heard, add in a desert landscape, more weed, and John Garcia‘s infamous croon.  More? Put just a pinch of Black Sabbath (Kyuss’s cover of “Into The Void” on the QOTSA split is unbelievable, just so you know) in addition to dirty production, guitars tuned way (wayyyy) down (and played through bass amps), Brant Bjork‘s pulse-pounding beats and Scott Reeder‘s filthy thick bass lines.

And while most of that description can be used for any of Kyuss’s albums, Sky Valley is its ultimate definition.  Originally pressed with only four tracks (with each track actually containing multiple songs), let’s use the original first suite as an example; “Gardenia” is as thick as a McDonald’s milkshake, “Asteroid” is the best instrumental jam ever and “Supa Scoopa and Mighty Scoop” is one of the most recognizable stoner rock songs to be put on tape.   Sky Valley is an album that has probably influenced your favourite band.  That alone should get you to check it out if you haven’t already.

I’d also like to let you know that I have a boner.

- Logan

With the impending release of their seventh full-length album in nearly twenty years, Converge are still the kings of the hardcore underground. The band formed as a five-piece in Massachusetts during the early 90s and revolved through many members until they became the foursome that would release their most influential material during the current decade. While most fans and scensters cite 2001′s Jane Doe as the band’s boldest artistic statement, I beg to differ. Though it would appear the band disagrees with me (see the interview with guitarist Kurt Ballou on ultimate-guitar.com), Converge’s most memorable and poignant slab of sound came in the guise of 1998′s When Forever Comes Crashing. Listening to this record is a scary experience. Aaron Turner’s (Isis) messy and nightmarish artwork (the original cover sleeve shows rotting fetus in some sort of razor contraption) keenly evokes the immediate sense of urgency and decay in Steve Austin’s (Today is the Day) murky and incessantly messy mix. The album explodes open with “My Unsaid Everything,” which decimates as many city blocks as it does time signatures. Aforementioned guitarist/musical mastermind Kurt Ballou, guitarist Aaron Dalbec (currently in Bane), bassist Steve Brodsky (Cave In), and drummer Damon Bellorado plow their way through tracks like knives filleting flesh. Whether it’s balls-to-the-wall hardcore (“The High Cost of Playing God”), vengeful chunks of metal-infused chug-fests (“Towing Jehovah”), or mathed-out headiness (the title track), the band cycle through riffs faster than the average human cycles through a deck of cards. The album’s slower moments are no less horrifying. In fact, “The Lowest Common Denominator” (a ballad of out-of-tune guitars and heavily distorted vocals) and “Ten Cents” (a lounged, easy-fried chill) feel so positively out of place that it won’t be until about the seventh listen that you finally get why they’re on here.

Everything on this album is spastic, moody, and dirty. Jacob Bannon’s vocals are incomprehensible as ever, and his clean crooning incites more confusion than it does recognizability. The beauty and heartache of his lyrics are perhaps more potent than those found on the seminal Jane Doe, finding Bannon stabbing at his demons through lines such as, “under the dead wake of morning I’m finding solace in a diseased heart, and I’m finding love in acts of desperation,” taken from “High Cost…” It all lends to one of the prolific outfit’s bleakest offerings, but one of the most surprisingly awesome. The music itself slices like razor-wire and is catchy as hell. It’s easy to see why those only somewhat acquainted with Converge have never heard this one, and perhaps it’s for the better. It’s a slice of the band’s history that is unlike anything else they’ve put out, giving its diehard fans an experimental offering to rejoice over time and time again.

- Nick

Imagine the best sex you’ve ever had and convert it to musical form – the result will likely be At the Drive-In’s Relationship of Command. Heavy, coarse breathing, like two bodies intertwining over a burning Dub rhythm, as all thought is thrown aside in a powerful fit of passion, suggest you’ve just heard (or rather, experienced) “Arcarsenal” – and when Cedric Bixler-Zavala says “beware”, he means it.

The legendary El Paso quintet are a force to be reckoned with, as is any band that single-handedly reinvents a genre. While their influences are easily apparent, fusing the art punk styling of Drive like Jehu and Nation of Ulysses, the impact of Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez’s Latin roots on Relationship of Command are what make the band’s brand of post-hardcore so unique (as well all their work in music, particularly in The Mars Volta). Particularly on songs like “Pattern Against User” and “Enfilade” the influence of dub and salsa is highly noticeable, but the experimentation hardly ends there, as songs like “Non-Zero Possibility” accentuate the progressive rock tendencies of their music – a style that follows Cedric and Omar throughout their career as well.

Can this simultaneously be the sexiest and most devastating album of all time? Quite possibly, as while Relationship of Command is a nirvana for the ears, it also doesn’t hesitate to lash out, featuring some of the most raw and energetic post-hardcore since The Shape of Punk to Come. “Sleepwalk Capsules” alone, in which Cedric ironically sings “Pacifier pacifies, yeah it pacifies”, rages from start to finish, as well as “One-Armed Scissor” and “Mannequin Republic”.

While the break-up of At the Drive-In resulted in the formation of The Mars Volta and Sparta, there’s certainly far too much experimentation with the former band, and too little with the latter, thus Relationship of Command serves as a form of middle-ground between the two extremes the members separated into. This doesn’t necessarily make either of the aforementioned bands deficient in quality, but perhaps, resembles a pinnacle not only in the members’ careers, but in post-hardcore as a whole.

- Vuk