Review Summary: Crushing reworks of fellow New Zealand artists' songs.
As the wait continues for a brand new Beastwars record, the New Zealand quartet decided to bridge that gap with a collection of covers reworked in their scorching sludge/stoner style. Choosing tracks solely from fellow Kiwi acts, I must admit I was not acquainted with any of them prior to this album. However, I listened to the original versions before diving into
Tyranny of Distance and was surprised to hear the varied range from acoustic ditties to post punk and metal. The way the band reimagined most of them is impressive, feeling like completely new tunes overall. Adding to them one of the most brutal voices in the genre, the instrumentals needed to deliver. Luckily, they do, keeping true to previous affairs. “Emmanuelle” remained closest to the recording done by Snapper, the pile driving riffs marching alongside a blend of clean and lung spitting screams. It’s quite the ear worm from a first listen and main highlight here. Same goes for The Gordons’ “Identity”, where the pounding drums fight the murky guitars for the loudest instrument in the mix. Matt’s roaring joins as well, so the results become noisy and a lot of fun. Meanwhile, Superette’s folksy cut, “Waves” brings forth a steady, meaty groove, complete with urgent, raucous vocals. A round of paranoid-sounding synths grace the song’s second half, complementing an overall manic atmosphere.
The rest of the record focuses on moodier sonic territory, “We Light Fire” (by Julia Deans) reminiscing Oxbow’s distorted chord picking on
An Evil Heat. Matt’s croons, whispers and clean shouts do an excellent job as the track turns louder by the minute. Moreover, Children Hour’s “High and Lonely” leaves the bass to build up tension, before the guitars turn the volume up with muted riffs. The brooding vibe is sustained throughout, especially via the singer’s mad, raucous interventions.
Tyranny of Distance ends up as a bold move, offering Beastwars an incentive to do their own thing within the boundaries of existing tunes. At times, they had to adjust softer parts between lumbering moments to maintain the connection between the original and their own version. This is available especially for the low key numbers they picked up. Nevertheless, the group did a splendid job infusing them in the fuzz-drenched madness. You could just as well place the LP as part of their own discography. At 31 minutes long, the short length is the only downside, but it’s just enough to keep you on your toes for the next full length.
