Title:Atomic Church By: Roachpowder Released by: Music Cartel Released on: March 13, 2001 Rating (out of 10): 7 Date: 06/29/2001
Psychedelic Sex Rock for the Zero's
Throbbing, burnout metal (i.e. the Lynyrd Skynyrd/Alice In Chains hybrid) has never been my bag, but that doesn't mean it ain't good. Case in point: Sweden's Roachpowder and their sophomore effort, Atomic Church, a rocket-fueled menu of trippy space-metal anthems, sweet on sleazy and sick on my speakers. Copping their name from the pages of William S. Burroughs, Roachpowder has delivered a new breed of Swedish heavy-metal that sounds a lot more like their American counterparts, such as LA fuzz masters Fu Manchu, than it does their homeland brethren. (Then again, they aren't completely Swedish either; two members of the quartet are exiled Chileans. The band remains of Scandinavian descent, though.)
When I think of Swedish heavy-metal, At The Gates (and their legacy through bands like Arch Enemy), The Haunted, and In Flames are the first names that pop into my head. Stoner metal had never entered my mind until I took my first spin with Roachpowder. Even then, I didn't believe they were from Sweden, where death-metal is the name of game, with Studio Fredman reigning over Gothenburg and Peter Tägtgren ruling the Abyss. Yet Roachpowder follows in the footsteps of England's Electric Wizard and weighs in with their own kind of corrosive low-end sludge-rock.
While I can't say Roachpowder's brand of bong metal is all that original—far from it—at least they've chosen the alt.metal highroad over the obnoxious, shitsounding nu-metal regime that pukes all over radio and MTV's TRL. That in itself should be commended; when it comes to the stamp of American metal, I'll take oily grunge over the rapcore riffing that every suburban two-car garage kidband emulates nowadays. I'm just fucking tired of hearing the same bouncing bullshit metal every time I turn around.
At least Roachpowder bucks that trend—and lights a big fat one while doing it.
From the Kentucky buzzsaw opening of "House of the Wicked," down deep into its dirt rock rumble, lead singer Francisco Rencoret wraps his pipes around the grooves with a washed-out-jean-jacket swagger deserving of that pot leaf patch on the sleeve. The spacey "Purgatorio Amoroso" plays perfectly into the wah pedal intro of "All Hail And Kneel Before Me," before the band charges into a Malibu beach GTO drag race like the second coming of Sweetwater meets Motorhead. It's clear by now that Rencoret is Chile's Dave Wyndorf, living up that fuckstar attitude like the smarmy dirtball he is...even if he isn't.
When Rencoret croons, "she took me higher, so pleased" over his brother's oversaturated Sabbath grind in "To Ebola With Love," you know Francisco is returning to every SoCal backyard 70s porno he's seen—and John Holmes is his god. When that cum-drenched backseat romp winds down, "Balls Of The Sun" turns it up a notch with the band doing their best Nazareth over the spanking cowbell peeking from behind the velvet curtains. This must be Roachpowder's lyrically sonic answer to Negasonic Teenage Warhead. Hell, yeah.
The somber harp instrumental of track six must have been included to scare the crap out of those getting down with the record midway through; it's bright and out of place and makes perfect sense. After that bizarre exercise, Roachpowder plods through four more tunes to continue feeding the acid crush. This crush includes the groovy swamp stomp of "Oceans Red" introduced by the "me sa hooooo-nah, me fuckee boomboom long time" soundbite which, although outdated, is on the cusp of being as retro-chic as the band's sound. Finally "Into The Centre" concludes the 50 minute toxic cruise with a warped Rick Springfield rhythm. Right on.
Roachpowder ain't nothing new, but they infect with a raunchy, booze-soaked grungerock bathed in bongwater stinky enough to turn off most kids still moshing to last year's neo-metal. If you like your Monster Magnet sleaze metal twisted in Swedish rolling papers moistened with a little Soundgarden lament, cut through the haze and pack some Roachpowder into your bowl. Park your Firebird in the drive then smoke, bake, and repeat.
R.I.Y.L. COC, Kyuss, Orange Goblin or any band mentioned above.
