February 13, 2012
I’ve been skating by lately, doing the bare minimum, a post here, a post there. I have essentially been avoiding the inevitable. I have been fighting myself to come home after a 13 hour day at my “job” and write this article. Not because I don’t feel motivated by the music, not because I have no passion for it. Yet I cannot procrastinate any longer. I need to share with you, Serial Hawk. Hot damn, my fingers are tingling, my mind is racing and I feel a bit funny in my stomach. What was I waiting for?
Serial Hawk is a Seattle three-piece, loud as fuck, stoner metal band, with Will on guitar, Adam on bass and Justin on drums — a simple formula creates exponential results in an expedition up a mountainous terrain of big stacks, amps clipping, tubes and transistors overheating, big riffs and punishing volumes!
Unfortunately I have not had the pleasure of seeing these guys live, but what I hear digitally is what keeps me interested and satisfied. I got a hold of Will awhile ago, after my HWOIG interview and wanted an interview with another great Seattle band that I had liked for awhile now. Will agreed and I treated it like a one night stand … all the satisfaction of scoring but never calling back.
Shame on me. So I’m back and here to score again with another great Seattle band and see what makes them tick.
Who and what is Serial Hawk?
Will: We’re a band from Seattle that plays loud. I’m Will (guitar/vocals), over there is Adam (bass) and in the kitchen is Justin (drums). As a band we’ve always been a pretty straight-forward group of dudes that loves to play heavy music inspired by countless bands from the Pacific Northwest and beyond.
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November 30, 2011
I’m a dark individual with a heart of gold and I need to tell you about a band that is out there killing it and doing it their own way. A band that stands out from the rest of the pack would be: He Whose Ox Is Gored. Don’t let the name scare you away; this band has been on the Seattle music scene for three years now. Dare I say a staple of what Seattle continues to provide for people who love music. A dark, brooding band that crosses a few genres, but you could ultimately chalk up as an instrumental/doom metal hybrid fueled by beer! If you have ever listened to Isis, M83 or Torche, you will no doubt like HWOIG.
HWOIG caught my eye one drunken night and I’m ashamed to say I don’t know where I was, or how I got there. But the name, of all things to remember, was there early in the afternoon in my subconsciousness when I finally woke up. So I found them on MySpace (yes, this was over three years ago!) and gave them a listen.
Memories flooded back to me of the show and I was hooked. I read up on them, found them on YouTube, and watched them market themselves through a viral campaign dubbed OXscan 2.0, were one can walk the streets of Capitol Hill and find their 2D barcodes for free music, or for a price of your choosing to support touring, recording costs, and of course beer money! Before I knew of such great places like Bandcamp, I was stuck going to my MySpace page and listening to them.
It would take a move to Houston, the overwhelming sense of homesickness and a what-the-fuck-have-I-done for me to really start plugging myself back into the Seattle music scene. Luckily there are great guys like Nik Christofferson “theseattlerockguy,” who writes, reviews, promotes and takes splendid lo-fi video of some amazing bands. (I may plug Nik a lot … Because he kicks so much ass in the department “Of Kicking Ass.”)
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October 16, 2011
Upon first listen of We Were Promised Jetpacks‘ sophomore album “In The Pit Of The Stomach” one thing comes to mind; they stepped up and made an album that shows a pleasant departure from the somber ballads I had loved in their first album, “These Four Walls,” and grew as a band.
“In The Pit Of The Stomach” is well-titled, because that is just where you’ll feel it. As usual, Adam Thompson’s lyrics are gut wrenching in his native Scottish tongue, sung full-heartedly and at times painfully with emotion. Matching perfectly with Sean Smith’s slightly over-driven Fender bass tone and clever grooves that lock in with drummer Darren Lackie’s fast hands and steady feet. Add Michael Palmer’s high register riffs and lush melodies, you’re taken to a faraway place inside yourself.
As a whole, the album is darker and rougher with a new found maturity that comes from two years on the road between studio time. The opening track, “Circles and Squares,” drives the listener home with a bombardment of guitars and cymbals, then fades away to the main guitar riff and an amazing bass groove. Moving into the album with tracks like “Medicine” and “Human Error,” Thompson’s accent prevails in his lyrics, bringing a pleasant separation from many of the “indie” bands currently dominating the scene.
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