Drone Throne, Everybody Dies Alone: Fatal Rips From the Southwest
The morbidly-titled third release and first full-length from Gilbert, Arizona, natives Drone Throne shows the band having undergone some distinct stylistic growth. Everybody Dies Alone is a self-released 12-track collection of sludge that, at times, is primitive to the point of regression. The most notable physical change in Drone Throne is the addition of the rhythm section of Andrew Leemont on bass/vocals and Taylor Kienzle on drums. Former drummer Alex Bank Rollins now joins Garrett Ranous on vocals and guitar, and the shift in personnel shows itself both in the interaction of the two guitars and in the heft of the rhythms and grooves supporting. Everybody Dies Alone manages to weave influences from latter day Darkthrone and Sleep’s Holy Mountain-era Sleep into its primal stew, balancing the simplistic nature of its forebears with the difficulties in making a cohesive singularity from them. Songs like “Bud Clot” and “Stone Dome” quickly mark out an ugly, crusty territory, while “Black Lung” relies more on rolling riffs and fog-headed groove to convey its stonerly vibes. Rollins and Ranous toy with some classic metal melodicism on “Dead Weight” (they seem to be feeling their way through several different styles throughout), but the bulk of Everybody Dies Alone is dedicated to short and abrasive bursts of sludge-punk chicanery.
A rough self-production job (also in the spirit of Darkthrone) doesn’t hurt the songs, but vocals high in the mix early in the album takes some getting used to, especially because of the distorted-shouty nature of the approach. “Black Lung” gets Everybody Dies Alone under way following the “Iron Man”-esque beginnings of aptly-named intro, “Intro.” Joining Ranous and Rollins (and Leemont ) in mix-prominence is Kienzle’s snare, which dominates more than best serves “Bud Clot” and “Greens.” The inclination, though, is to let that kind of thing go. Drone Throne clearly haven’t set out to make a shining production of a record, and while it’s important nonetheless to keep things in balance with each other, however harsh you might want them to sound, it almost becomes a contributing factor to Everybody Dies Alone’s ridiculous charm. The first four tracks’ punk-ish thrust slams head-first into the Sleep-y groove of “Dead Weight,” which cops the riff of “Dragonaut” into a lead line that forms the crux of the song. Drone Throne make it work, and “Dead Weight,” though immediately familiar, introduces the strongest stretch of the album. Gang chants in the chorus maintain the punk spirit, and as “Dead Weight” gives way to “Fatal Rips From the North,” Drone Throne pull off their most impressive shift from stoner rock to black metal. One has to wonder what exactly the band knows about “the North” being from the sandy Southwest in Arizona, but I’ll definitely give them the “Fatal Rips” part, and their Darkthrone-styled simplicity takes a complex idea and makes it sound effortless. The multiple layers of vocals (screams, shouts, etc.) underscore the song’s extremity, and the guitar work shows surprising versatility. Perhaps what makes the track, though, is when Leemont’s bass comes to the fore for a break and clean vocals result in a nod to Om before the final chorus.
“Stone Dome” keeps much the same feel (minus the Om reference) to launch Everybody Dies Alone’s second half. At 1:47, it is among the album’s shortest tracks and also the simplest in terms of formula: Blackened, crusty, punk. Comparatively, the Iron Maiden-type NWOBHM harmonies with which Rollins and Ranous introduce “Contact High” seem like something right out of theory class. Doubtless it’s not a coincidence that the song is exactly four minutes and 20 seconds long – a bong sample prior to the three-minute mark nails home the point – but the song also serves to bring back some of the sludgy elements from earlier in the record, which are then contrasted by the insistent shuffle of “Gettin’ Pitted.” Samples complement farther-back vocals (or at least more drenched in echo), and the whole track has a more rock-centered feel that, in turn, gives way to the slower, more atmospheric “Last of the Larva.” A synth line underlying gives some sense of melody to the track, which is otherwise among Drone Throne’s most pummeling. The sample ending that cut sets the tone for “Ghost Smoke,” on which the only vocalizing is in sample form, sources such as Young Frankenstein being put to good use. Since the album as a whole is so short at 38 minutes, where “Ghost Smoke” might otherwise seem needless, it doesn’t offend, the start-stop midsection serving to unite the varying sides of Drone Throne’s sound. Everybody Dies Alone finishes with its most impressive guitar work on the title cut, veering into genuine solo territory just in time to crash to its close of backwards noises and weirdo ambience.
It’s a simple album in terms of atmosphere – dark, crusty, heavy – but what Drone Throne do with Everybody Dies Alone is nonetheless commendable, especially considering the changes they’ve undergone since their split with fellow Arizonans Toad and their demo preceding. They’re probably still in the process of carving out their sound for themselves – especially as regards Rollins and Ranous just beginning their work with Kienzle and Leemont – but as a first statement of intent, Everybody Dies Alone seems to revel in its overarching frankness. I wouldn’t want to hear Drone Throne necessarily in a smoother production style, since I think they’d lose some of their sludgy edge, but the elements making up these songs present an opportunity to progress in terms of how they’re weighed against each other in the mix. Nonetheless, Everybody Dies Alone has a kind of broken-brain charm that one hopes the band will be able to maintain (as one hopes they maintain this lineup) going forward. Recommended for anyone looking to get their hands dirty.
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Tags: Arizona, Drone Throne, Gilbert, Unsigned bands
