Obviously part of revisiting any album is listening to it, but with Murder the Mountains (review here), it almost seems unnecessary because the songs are so memorable. “Wires.” “Into the Eye.” “Number Thirteen” — which I’ll put forward as a candidate for the best song Red Fang have ever written. And even if you don’t remember “Hank is Dead” or “Throw Up” by their title alone, if you heard the Portland, Oregon, band’s second full-length when it was released in 2011 as their first LP for Relapse Records, chances are within the first five seconds it’ll come back. 10 tracks, 41 minutes. It’s not a flawless album by any means, but even its warts become a strength and a part of the band’s overarching personality.

It was a big deal when bassist/vocalist Aaron Beam, guitarist/vocalist Maurice Bryan Giles, guitarist David Sullivan and drummer John Sherman signed to Relapse. Their 2009 self-titled (discussed here) had come out through Sargent House and received mass attention owing to the proto-virality of the video for “Prehistoric Dog,” which was kind of a Black Sabbath Black Sabbath-declarative moment for Pacific Northwest heavy and/or what might’ve been called “party doom” but was really just heavy rock made by a next generation of grown up punks and metallers. That Red Fang had both — punks and metallers, that is — made them all the more a standout.

It was also a big deal when they recorded Murder the Mountains with Chris Funk of The Decemberists, thereby forcing a legion of soon-to-be-beardos to find out who The Decemberists were and maybe, just maybe, listen to a song or two. Funk played some guitar on the album too, and there were guests on organ and percussion, etc., but what still comes through in revisiting these years later is the strength of the songs themselves. Red Fang‘s deceptively clever vocal swaps between Giles and Beam would become a signature element of their work, but the clarity with which the former’s caveman grunts announce the band’s arrival after the intro crashes of opener “Malverde” are still an effective slap from a band said to be working in a pop sphere. That they’d back that song with the ultra-catchy, uptempo swing of “Wires,” led vocally by Beam‘s more melodic approach, gives the yet-unconverted listener a more complete picture of what Red Fang have to offer throughout, while at the same time essentially shoving that same listener deeper into the album, as the shorter “Hank is Dead” careens into “Dirt Wizard”‘s brash punk and the side A-capping chug of “Throw Up” with post-Queens of the Stone Age solo fuzz answering “Hank is Dead” at the outset even as the midtempo stomp speaks of heavier intentions ahead of the chorus, infectious to the last.

“Painted Parade” is about as close as the band comes to pure heavy punk, and that’s plenty close, and Beam leads that charge much as Giles fronted “Malverde” — the band finding ways to do something different without veering too far from their central purpose in terms of songwriting. Like “Wires” answered “Malverde,” “Number Thirteen” backs “Painted Parade” with a call and response in its chorus with Beam and Giles back and forth, but the marching verse is as much a hook, and the later touch of harmony on the third verse is nothing less than a defining moment. For me, it’s the whole key to the album. They shift into the speedier break with Giles taking the lead vocally and move through the guitar solo, surge back into a winding progression and build it to a head, and then it’s not some huge riff that puts “Number Thirteen” over the top, it’s the melody. Gorgeously mixed by Vance Powell, the energy of that movement is a showcase for just how graceful Red Fang are at their best; and just to drive the point home, they finish with another chorus.

Momentum, so much a strength throughout Murder the Mountains, is maintained through “Into the Eye,” and “The Undertow” not only highlights the bass tone that’s added weight all along to the barrage of righteous riffs, but broadens the scope of the record with a more languid tempo and melody; never doomed, but a purposeful comedown, and well placed ahead of the finale with effects noise bringing a few hypnotic seconds before “Human Herd” smacks its way in. A grungy verse into a surge of a chorus that only gets more surging feels like and is a victory lap on the band’s part, and though subsequent reissues (like the one streaming above) of Murder the Mountains have included bonus tracks “Over the Edge,” “Through” and “Pawn Everything,” I tend to prefer the original ending, the subtle touch of tambourine in the chorus of “Human Herd,” the way Beam‘s reach in those last lines, then the cold cut to silence. It all brings into near-perfect summary just how efficient Red Fang‘s work has been the whole time.

Precious few seconds are wasted throughout, and yet the band’s abiding personality is dudes-having-a-good-time. Songs are heavy but lighthearted and now and then bright-toned, guzzling PBR but executing with a clearheaded class. It was an album that set the band on tour for years and established them as the leaders of a wave of Portland/PNW heavy that’s abated some the last two years or so but still provides reliable listens on the regular. Red Fang themselves, as noted, hit the road hard, touring with Saint Vitus in 2011 (review here) and going to Europe in 2012. In 2013, they released Whales and Leeches (review here), toured toured toured, did a few other short releases, a Scion A/V EP (remember those?), toured toured toured, a one-off here and there, fests and whatnot into 2016’s Only Ghosts (review here), which remains their latest full-length. They of course toured toured toured to support it, and periodic singles have followed since — the latest, “Stereo Nucleosis” (posted here), came out in July 2020 — but a stretch coming on five years between LPs is easily the longest of their career.

Whatever may come or not from Red Fang in the next couple years, they’ve become statesmen of Portland heavy and of American heavy rock in general, and their contributions in craft and attitude alike continue to resonate, influencing style and substance alike. This album sounds no less vital today than it did nearly a decade ago when it was first released.

As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.

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Oh hi. Didn’t see you there. It’s 6:30 in the morning. The Pecan’s been sleeping past 7 (!) or at least not really getting out bed until then — he’s already stirring — so I let myself sleep until 5, which has felt like a gift the last couple days. I got up yesterday and managed to put together all of today’s posts — this one aside — before even getting him for breakfast. A boon in these days when preschool remains virtual. Which is, by the way, a fucking disaster.

He stayed with his aunt and grandmother on The Patient Mrs.’ side for an overnight last week. The Patient Mrs. and I, of course, spent the entire day sitting on the couch watching Star Trek. I shit you not, and it was glorious. You think I’m just not mentioning the sex, but no. No sex, just Trek. A pure and necessary headfirst dive into restorative boredom. I might, might have showered. I can’t remember just now. But anyway, in trying to convince The Pecan to lay down and go to sleep and then watching as he held out and sat up until, at last, he literally toppled over into unconsciousness, The Patient Mrs.’ sister sent a text remarking on his “astonishing willpower.” That has become a kind of running joke this week as regards behavioral issues.

Astonishing willpower as he continues to bite himself when asked to color his school calendar. Yes, we’re consulting with a behaviorist. With occupational therapy, with speech therapy (he’s boomed in language, but some of his frustrations are language-related; plus it’s a way to get him more socialization so we take whatever services we can get). Coordinating with the school — he’s in early pre-K to do this work. But yes, astonishing willpower.

An ambulance just went by in the dark, one blinking light, obviously keeping it quiet. Wonder if they’re cutting through the neighborhood or making a stop here. 4,000 people died yesterday. Knew we were creeping up on that. I keep an eye.

And hey, angry white people tried to overthrow the US government this week in a move that everyone saw coming including the police, who let it happen. Made for good tv. Gotta give that to whatshisname.

Well, kid’s up. I should go get him. Breakfast, grocery shopping, then virtual school, then I have a tele-health appointment with a psychiatrist to talk about my meds, which I am nervous about I guess. Like do I need to get on Zoom and perform depression for you? Must I manifest my diagnosis to legitimize it, sit on my back legs to beg for pills so I can go a day without thinking of obliterating myself? Yeah let’s do that. Sweet.

We’ll see how it goes. If I can make it through without being confrontational, I’ll call that a win.

New Gimme show today, 5PM. The Pecan does a guest spot in the voice track. Look out for it. He has fun.

Next week is booked front-to-back. Couple good reviews, couple premieres, all that stuff. Trying to set up a video interview with Kadavar. We’ll see how that goes too.

Great and safe weekend. Don’t forget to hydrate. Wear your mask over your nose. All that stuff.

New year, same FRM.

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