Labels: self released
Review by: Kunal Nandi
From the outset, you don’t quite know what to expect. Some lovingly esoteric watercolours feature on the front and back covers, depicting a depressed individual male clutching his head and a wanking hand respectively. They even set their stall out as awkward bastards by splitting this whole affair into a double CDEP set when everything could have quite easily fitted on the one disc, but even that is pure practical genius when you actually listen to it. It’s like they acknowledge the fact that they’re almost too challenging for the average, uneducated ear, and so enforce an intermission on you in order to give you a chance to recover and make a cup of tea.
Musically we’re in pretty technical metal hardcore territory, and in that respect, Eiger totally hold their own in terms of precision playing against the supposed leaders in that scene, being as they are tighter than a gnat’s crotchet, especially with the drumming at the base of it all. What this does differently is how it fearlessly runs the gamut, taking in influences from every which way possible, hurling them back up at you. We’ve got judicious use of the chug, reminiscent of Helmet at their very best, the head-spinning spiralling guitar lines of Drowningman, the stop-start time changes of Fugazi through to joyously straight-up classic rock moments, and a rich seam of melody permeates the whole thing weirdly enough. “When One Door Closes, Another One Shuts”, a track that dates back to their demo from at least a couple of years ago still has one of the best rock outros since Kyuss’ “Supa Scoopa & Mighty Scoop”; hummable yet doomy. Amazing.
What really sets this apart, and makes it sound so wonderfully, unapologetically British (or rather, Northern British) are the vocals. Your main man here screams with the best of them, phlegm flying in incoherent rage like the rantings of a city centre street preacher. Much of the time however, is spent doing spoken word, relying as much on observational humour and surreality in an anecdotal style that is far from gimmicky. Further to that, they sideswipe you with exhilarating sung vocals that soar from the muck, pitch perfect and full of power, especially when they’re backed up by the other three band members like some sort of gospel choir. The effect is like Botch playing the working men’s club from “Phoenix Nights”; wholly strange and totally addictive, and most importantly, DIFFERENT. And perhaps even more important than that, ROCKING. The greatest thing I’ve heard a British band do in months, if not years, thank Satan Eiger are here, caving people’s heads in and filling our formerly closed minds. Double amazing.