Labels: Southern Lord
Review by: Kunal Nandi
Q “” What do you call the guy that always hangs around the band?
A “” The drummer.
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA ahem, but anyway… Dave Grohl seems to have pretty much managed to take care of himself in the decade or so since Kurt checked out, proving himself as a proficient musician, as adept in front of the drumkit as behind it, and able to come up with the odd bit of anthemic poppy grunge when the mood takes him. At his best (e.g. the first two Foo Fighters albums), he combined diamond-hard rockage with innate hummability. At his worst (e.g. the last two Foo Fighters albums), the music was toothless, derivative and dull.
You’re going to be hard-pressed to find a mainstream rock-fan (or more importantly, a reviewer from your average weekly rock-rag) that considers Probot as anything less than a major cultural event, and that’s a shame, because it’s a perfectly serviceable rock album in its own right, and doesn’t really need the glaring media spotlight thrust upon it to such an extent. I mean, the one person who probably doesn’t really care how Probot does is Dave Grohl. It’s been bubbling away in the background for the better part of four years now, and if that didn’t make this record lack cohesion enough already, the fact that there are 12 different vocalists can’t help. However, it does enable me to use the old bad-reviewer technique for padding out reviews by going through each track one by one. You can stop reading now if you like.
First up, and it’s Cronos from Venom, whose snarling vocals are more than adequately backed up by a supremely evil sounding riff, that is perversely catchy too. I know nothing of Venom, aside from the fact that they were a thrash band from oop north, but it’s quite clear to me that the guy’s still got what it takes. I am much more familiar with Max Cavalera’s work, and the karaoke-Sepultura, of “Red War” makes me wish that Kurt had lived long enough to do that tour where Sepultura supported Nirvana. By this early stage, doubts are already setting in that Dave Grohl is simply mimicking his heroes’ former bands, creating mere carbon copies. For example, Lee Dorrian’s track has all the hallmarks of his band Cathedral, being as it is slow, lumbering doooom, but it is first and foremost, innately melodic and polished “” no doubt Grohl’s influence. However, when a song like Lemmy’s contribution “Shake Your Blood” kicks in, you hardly care about any of that. Straight-up dumbass rock, with a verse, a chorus and an ending you could bite into, and meaningless lyrics about “rocking out” and er, “shaking your blood”. It’s fun! That’s the idea! Actually, I’ll stop going through all the tracks “” it’s taking me bloody ages. However, I will say that Wino (ex-Spirit Caravan, St. Vitus, Place of Skulls and The Obsessed, now of The Hidden Hand) acquits himself beautifully as usual, and Tom G. Warrior (not his real name “” what does the “G’ stand for if that’s his bloody surname?) from Celtic Frost (another Cobain favourite) provides some gnarly wordage to the (least popular judging by the internet consensus) dayglo-Godflesh of “Big Sky”. “Secret” vocalist Jack Black confirms his wanker status, despite a strong voice, and makes me wish that we could’ve had another 80’s underground rock legend instead.
You can’t even level an accusation of it being major label tosh at this either, because it’s not on a major. In fact, if my hard-scrounged cash ends up being used to get the next Warhorse album out sooner, or that more rare Boris stuff gets reissued, instead of being spent on animal-testing supergun parts for burgeoning warlord states, then I’m pretty chuffed about that.