Proudly New Mexican, Regicide is but one band in the state's massive metal scene. Without pretension and with refreshingly straightforward vocals (no dog-voice), Fall of an Empire is puro hardcore thrash-metal that will appeal to punks and metal-heads alike. Regicide craft their songs with slam-dancing in mind and without the overly technical finger-hammering and show-offy classical guitar chops that often stand in the way of straight-up rocking out. A basic reliance on righteous riffs and progressions keeps me bobbing my head because the music straight-up rocks. Too often, metal outfits get lost in complicated, over-thunk bullshit; Regicide's Fall of an Empire clearly demonstrates the honest virtues of rocking out.
This is mostly upbeat Americana from North Carolina artist Stephen Meyers—AKA “Breadfoot”—who hasn't released an album since 2005. Salvatella features a fair-sized ensemble of instruments, including a great horn section and some nice lap steel, but the stand-out playing is by Breadfoot himself who handily handles the guitar, steel guitar and six string banjo playing at the forefront of these eight songs. Meyer's charming, rough-hewn vocals are reminiscent of Michael Hurley with a drop of that carney-growl Tom Waits does —a style that suits the laid back lyrics that cover the day-to-day, true-to-life subjects common in Americana. If they don't know of him already, fans of Albuquerque's porch-music band Pawn Drive will eat this Breadfoot album up. Here's hoping Breadfoot comes through Burque like he did last time Alibi reviewed his music.
The race between Ariel Pink and White Fence's Tim Presley to see who can first mutate most completely into Syd Barrett is over. The White Fence guy demonstrates his superior Barrettization on this album—a side project with a Bird Records (see this week’s music sidebar) recording artist Cate Le Bon—by singing nonsensically and in a fragile voice with child-like compositions PLAYED ON TOY INSTRUMENTS (kidding, it just sounds that way). That said, Hermits on Holiday isn't a bad album. It reminds me of the more “artistic” albums Billy Childish has put out solo or in collaboration with artists like Sexton Ming: Which Dead Donkey Daddy! It’s interesting once or twice through (ok, maybe just once) and has great cover art—but it's no Thee Headcoats record. Just because you like White Fence doesn't mean you're going to dig DRINKS. But you might.