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| PRESS: PIGHEART ALPHA
ROMEO |
UPCOMING
GIG DATES: Finnegan's
Wake: Tooting
Bizarre Presents: | ||||||
| Unpeeled
fanzine Series 5, #2: Feb 04 
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| www.liveclub.co.uk REVIEW SCENE 25: 16/04/04 '...Well, song title of the year goes to ‘Making Bombs While Listening To Leonard Cohen’. No contest there. Wow. This sounds an awful lot like our old pals Normal – discordant grooves sliced with lunatic musical interludes and sinister vocals. Only with a bit of angsty Nine Inch Nails-like tantrums thrown in. Cripes, its completely overblown and really rather wonderful. And if you thought THAT was mad, try ‘Glow In The Dark’, which sounds like the Wu-Tang Clan jamming with Puccini and Mercury Rev. And then comes ‘Your Humble Savant’ and it gets weirder STILL. ‘Shrodinger’s Cat’ is straight-ish hardcore like they used to play at the Bowery, with a dash of ‘Chop Suey’ esque System Of A Down. And ‘Pets’ is the Divine Comedy. With a migraine. Quite extraordinary...' Alex Ogg | |||||||
| www.logo-magazine.com
(original text) London’s Thumpermonkey have a way with song titles, tracks such as ‘Making Bombs While Listening To Leonard Cohen’ and ‘Schrödinger’s Cat’ catching the eye before a note is heard. They catch the ear as well, ‘…Leonard Cohen’ steering a path between the outré noir of Looper and the choppy doobie-punk of Cypress Hill. As for Schrödinger, when he looked in the box the betting is that he didn’t expect to find Suicidal Tendencies demolishing speaker stacks in the company of Faith No More in ‘Cuckoo For Caca’ mode. Different, worryingly scary, and quite marvellous. | |||||||
| www.losingtoday.com
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| www.universalmetropolis.com
(Read full text) Originally published on January 4‚ 2004 '...within the years to come, I believe Thumpermonkey will create one of the classic works of musical art in history, an extended piece and journey through whatever time and story it cares to portray at the time. The Downward, upward Spiral of the next generation...... Thumpermonkey is one of the truly gifted independent artists in the underground music scene. Their consistency and growing skill is cause for reflection and the realisation that the next generation of sound on this planet will surpass anything we see today...' | |||||||
| www.universalmetropolis.com
(Read full text) Originally published on 05/11/2004 'While tracks like Han Solo remind us of his sense of humour and moments like Copper or 4444 exhibit his extraordinary range as a musician and new media composer, Wheezyboy is such a solid track that is so convincing in its moments of brilliance that is almost frightening' | |||||||
| www.unpeeled.co.uk There are, I find, two distinct types of ‘experimental’ music. There’s yer crap, usually a load of mis-matched toss put out by people who can’t actually play or write and then there’s this… Thumpermonkey, exciting, exhilarating and manic in a way that assorted preachers can only dream of. Take the frantic and fascist tight “Delivery Vs Payment”, the lovely sound of a metal growler having his throat scrubbed with razor wire while the backing is, and this is, I presume, the experimental bit, fucking excellent speed-pop-metal zippery, talking of zippery, probably an unconscious thing because the nearsest that Thumpermonkey come to a soundalike is Joyzipper. In toto, “Pig Heart” is a stunningly successful experiment in sound, all sorts of sound in all sorts of odd combinations and like all frantic genius style projects it’s bursting with hundreds of amazingly little vignettes that have all had to be incorporated into a mere ten tracks. Yes, it can be frustrating to hear bits of brilliance casually discarded for the next, but I’d rather have this blitz of sound than any set of verse-chorus humdrummery, besides, there are odd oases of uninterrupted cogence, like “How I Wrote The French Lieutenant’s Woman” & “4444”, plus the odd mutant like “Wheezyboy” that only go through a few major phases. Truly, a brilliant album and you are urged to go to www.thumpermonkey.com to hear for yourself. | |||||||
| www.splendidzine.com A mad symphony of the bizarre, a bipolar freak-out of the mentally corrupt, Thumpermonkey puts a capitol "E" on eclectic. Wielding in one hand a vocabulary that rivals even The Decemberists' resplendent vernacular in its predilection for obscure verbiage, and wild, schizophrenic instrumentation in the other, Pig Heart ferociously attack a unique sonic beast, gracing the tentacles they sever with titles like "Transgenic Mouse Xenotransplant". Thumpermonkey bounces relentlessly off of rubber walls with a madness that's indistinguishable from genius. There's an opportunity here to find out who really cares about you -- any real friend will have you committed if you play "I Am Han Solo Frozen In Carbonite" for them. Make sure to dance really hard all the way to the asylum. Pig Heart have made the album such a no-brainer purchase for fans of off-kilter and truly insane music that these special people can be trusted to seek it out on their own -- even after the lobotomy. | |||||||
| www.u-magazine.com (Read Full Text) Feb 22, 2006 Ethereal, Eclectic, Crushing and Haunting "Chap with the Wings, Five Rounds Rapid" By Thumpermonkey This is a fantastic album, well constructed and recorded, with much depth. Most of the time it’s scary good, sometimes it’s just plain scary. As is the case with most eclectic albums of this ilk, I suspect there is not a lot here for the casual listener, which is perhaps the albums Achilles heal. There is an enormous variance across the album so listening to only one or two songs fails to give the listener a proper gestalt of the talent going on here, and most of it has a technical complexity that I would imagine is lost on even the most astute listener giving songs a single pass. That being said, while I do appreciate simple well executed music, rarely does it have the “legs” of a more challenging, complicated work that can be enjoyed for a much longer period of time, as ones tastes meander over different aspects of a particular album. A good album allows room for growth, and I believe that can safely be said about this music. While hard to compare with any other existing music, for those that beg for a comparison, I think the closest I could place it would be as a contemporary of Tomahawk, which is Mike Patton's current project (which if you like Thumpermonkey, is also a band I suspect you would enjoy for it’s off kilter rhythms, twisted lyrical content, and brutally heavy music, intertwined with delicate lines and occasional electronica.) Let’s talk about more specifically about the 9 tracks on the album. Kicking off things is the ethereal sounds of Whenthisrecordisplayedonmarsmankindwillhaveascendedtothegodhead. With a vocal line reminiscent of a choir (albeit a gonzo choir, singing about spinning bowties), and synthy backing tracks, it is an odd start to an odd album. A taste of things to come indeed. Next up is Tzizimime, which is my pick for sleeper hit on the album. I was not so enthused at first, but as time has progressed, this is the track on the album that I find in my head when I am away from a set of headphones or speakers (although I suspect I am only in phase 2, of many phases to come). It should also be added that this is perhaps some of the albums finest Bass work, however, it is the only track on the album that I have issues with the guitar tone, as I personally think there is too much room-bleed or ‘verb on the guitar part at the beginning which makes it sound of lesser quality than the rest of the album, although, as stated, this is a purely subjective judgement and guitar everywhere else is superb. Crushing when it needs to be, but also full of dynamic range as required, including some glassy-nice clean tones as well. This is followed by Not the Motorcycle Diaries, a very strong track, possibly “the single” if one had to be chosen. This track showcases the best overall guitar on the album throughout across a single song. I was immediately taken by this song, and proved a good jumping off point for the rest of the album for me. After this comes A Loving Mother, which is perhaps the most disturbing song I’ve ever heard in recent years. I almost wish I never heard it. The Bass tone on this is fantastic, and the song is well assembled, although perhaps exists as a cautionary tale of what happens when too much time is spent in Pro-Tools. Chilling to the bone. Following this nightmare comes the track Doughboy, which is instrumental, and surprisingly restrained. It starts quiet and slow, and eventually gets heavier and heavier. I must say, on initial listening I half expected the song to break into some Kill ‘Em All-esque choppage, and part of me still wants that, but part of me also is glad that it doesn’t, as frankly, it’s been done. This track is also featured as the soundtrack to a short (and disturbing) movie that plays off the CD when it is stuck in a laptop. Something to do with an unhealthy obsession with Avril Lavigne…I don’t know…it’s all so confusing. But in a good way. Don’t Wake Me follows this, and this is the only track on the album so far that I have yet to appreciate. It will come. Give it time. Memory Fat, is a track that I heard a while ago and also was immediately accessible to me. It was a first favourite that I could not stop listening to. Nothing coy or weakling about this song at all, and is yet another track in which the vocal range of Michael Woodman shines through. He is able to go from falsetto, to well articulated, to guttural scream within a single phrase, and pulls of all three styles better than many singers are able to do any single one. Also, the line “Come On! Rub some Creatine on my Gums” just gets me thinking. What the devil ARE then talking about? I love that. The best art should provoke questions. Also, the tracks vocals refer again to the character “Doughboy”, with the song also containing a momentary refrain to a riff from the song of the same name, providing cohesion across the tracks that are every bit as themed as Green Day’s American Idiot. Melissa Leaves the Wrong Kind of Audit Trail gets my vote for both best song title ever, and my favourite overall track on the album. This track clocks in at just over 6 minutes, as such, is not for the uninitiated, but shows strong overall performances both instrumentally and vocally. The guitar line in 7/4 running from about 1 minute in to about 2:30 is something that I find I am striving to learn to play myself (always a good sign) and the song also descends into a very cool noise-core interlude, which is done in a refreshing way, such that it’s not just a rip-off of Sonic Youth, but has some fresh ideas going on, utilizing several techniques to create the wall of sound that ensues. Even more refreshingly this decent into chaos is brought back together, cued subtly by the percussionist and resolves with a very strong musical epilogue. Closing the album on a subdued note, much as it starts, is the track My Debt to Scientology, which is a haunting piece played solo on Piano. An odd bookend to what was a strange, eclectic album. Throughout the whole album, the percussion holds all this music together, and while strictly speaking I think I maybe hear perhaps 3 points that sound like there is a beat that drags behind, (and maybe it’s not the drums, but other instruments…AND maybe it’s intentional). Frankly, any percussionist that can keep up with weirdo song structures such those featured on this album deserves some kind of medal. Someone give this man a hug. All in all, fantastic. I am truly a new fan. I am listening to it every chance I get, and attempting to convert others. Quite the sailor’s choice indeed. 6.8
out of 7.4 | |||||||
| www.unpeeled.co.uk | |||||||
| www.indielaunchpad.com | |||||||
| www.burnyourears.de Amerikanische Webzine-Kollegen vergleichen den weirden musikalischen Output der Briten auf „Chap With The Wings, Five Rounds Rapid“ mit FRANK ZAPPA, aber da muss ich passen, dessen Musik ist mir nicht gerade geläufig. Experimentelle Bands wie MARS VOLTA fallen mir da eher ein, denn auch THUMPERMONKEY LIVES! arbeiten mit schrägen Tönen, sehr eruptiven Parts und zwischendurch mit wunderbaren Harmonien. Harsche, gerne auch progressive Gitarrenausbrüche stehen neben melancholisch-gefühlvollen Klangwelten (könnte man so auch bei SONIC YOUTH finden), regelrechte Wutausbrüche kontrastieren normal-schönen Gesang, dominant lautes Instrumentengewitter paart sich mit sehr leisen, zurückhaltenden Soundkreationen, und auch popige Refrains bzw. Strophen werden eingebaut. Das ganze Album bewegt sich zwischen Extremen, klingt aber wunderlicherweise noch homogen genug, um problemlos verdaut und voller Freude gehört werden zu können – im Gegensatz zu Combos wie beispielsweise FANTOMAS, die über weite Strecken einfach nur anstrengend sind. THUMPERMONKEY LIVES! klingen ebenfalls anstrengend, nur auf eine wesentlich angenehmere Weise. – So widersprüchlich es auch ist. Verschafft Euch am besten selbst einen Eindruck von der Musik und testet den Song "Not The Motorcycle Diaries“ auf der Bandhomepage. Das ist zwar ein auf Anhieb zugänglicher und "harmloser“ Titel, aber er offenbart schon einige Eigenheiten des Trios, das übrigens – wie nicht anders zu erwarten war - textlich auch ziemlich kryptisch arbeitet. Es gibt also eine Menge zu entdecken und zu ergründen, und das macht einen Großteil der Faszination dieses Werks aus. Ich drücke jetzt jedenfalls erneut die Play-Taste und werde mich Schicht um Schicht weiter zum Kern dieses Albums vorgraben… wünscht mir Glück! | |||||||
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Contrast the name of the band, the album and the song titles and you’d be forgiven for feeling confused. But hold on to your handles, wait til you hear the thing! Initial track "When This Record is Played on Mars, Humanity Will Have Ascended to the Godhead" is over before you’ve read the title. It features a slow electronic beat, washed with vocal harmonies and synth squeaks and burbles. Interesting start, then. Next move, "Tzitzimime" reminds me of Peter Hammill and is none the worse for it. Diversity follows: "Not the Motorcycle Diaries" is shoutier Grant Lee Buffalo; "A Loving Mother" begins its journey with a tirade from Bedlam, meets up with Rolf’s Stylophone, and gets finally mugged and strangled by someone’s guitar strings… which leads neatly into the plaintive, lush chords of "Doughboy", a track culminating in a lot of bashing a la early Black Sabbath. Is the title a tribute to Ozzy? "Don’t Wake Me" - great harmonies and prominent bass; "Memory Fat" - David Bowie meets Napalm Death (really! – very English); "Melissa Leaves the Wrong Kind of Audit Trail" should be avoided by anyone with a hangover or an aversion to revved engines. The final track "My Debt to Scientology" features a delicate piano figure that wouldn’t be out of place on a late night jazz station, a soundtrack for wandering the dripping halls of a Bladerunner apartment block. "Sounds like a bunch of fuckin’ loons dickin’ about" says a passing woman. "Yay!" says I: "Yay for the fuckin’ loons!" Obscure, and not a little deranged; a startling sonic collage, musically accomplished, and in a little decoupage box that they pasted up all on their own. Well worth buying. Author: Rescendant [Ed's note: "Decoupage" is decorating a surface by lacquering over cut-outs - it says so in my dictionary. References to other bands include Melvins, Adam and the Ants and 10cc, sounds good to me | |||||||
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Thumpermonkey
are an unusual band judging by debut album, CHAP WITH WINGS, FIVE ROUNDS RAPID;
a schizophrenic and all over the place record. | |||||||
Subba-Cultcha 20 Aug 2006. If I wrote for a certain other weekly music magazine that begins with the letter ‘N’ and has a penchant for making ridiculously pretentious analogies to describe bands in their reviews pages, then I’d probably say something along the lines of, ‘Imagine David Bowie and Mike Patton in a padded cell in Gotham City Asylum for the Criminally Insane, swinging chainsaws and angle grinders at the nurses as Frank Zappa attempts to lobotomise them with a rusty spoon whilst wearing a t-shirt reading “Dead Girls Don’t Say No” – however, I write for SubbaCultcha, and thus, am above holding such overblown sentiments. But imagine it anyway – Rob Zombie should direct the movie I think. The London three-piece definitely get an A-Star in being weird, so hats off to them for that, and their sound lies somewhere smack bang in the middle of prog-rock, psychadelia and metal, and at their best are evocative of Zappa, Mike Patton, and at other times with the dark rumblings of early Sonic Youth. At their worst, they sound like a very average grunge band, the type of which never makes it beyond the pub circuit. Standout track ‘Memory Fat’ has a gorgeously theatrical comparability to System of a Down with a Bowie-esque vocal, although it has to be said, treads a very thin line between theatrical and overblown – one wrong move and they could end up being Muse, and another one of those is the last thing anyone needs right now. What the world needs now is a bit more acid-tinged, challenging music that makes your parents squirm in their seats – and if Thumpermonkey carry on in this vein, then that’s exactly what we have on our hands.(Chris Bell). | |||||||
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| www.toxicpete.co.uk '...Now hold on a minute!! What's goin' on? As Thumpermonkey storm through 'Not The Motorcycle Diaries' I'm left feeling both drained and excited. 'Not The Motorcycle Diaries' is a toxic concoction of rock, speed metal and God knows what else that lifts the hairs on the back of the neck as it tears down the walls and lifts the roof. Angry, aggressive riffs punctuate the vocal line as this gutsy trio weave their individualistic magic. Thumpermonkey rock, of that there's no doubt. So what's new? Well, Thumpermonkey are actually melodic rocksters. They drop superb harmonies into the roaring melee when you're least (if ever) expecting them. They lay down some massive work throughout this very tasty release; angry sounding staccato metal vocals that suddenly melt away to release breathtakingly juxtaposed soft rock voices - heavy runs and riffs that give way to melodic choral keyboards - a sort of heaven meets hell with unexpected results. 'Not The Motorcycle Diaries' is a big song with a big character - ballsy yet harmonious - gutsy and rewarding. A great and unpredictable piece of work to test the senses and work up an appetite for more. Excellent!...' | |||||||
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'Not The Motorcycle Diaries' Review. 'Thumpermonkey
are a band all about those lurching off kilter time changes, colossal chugging
riffs and screeching vocal screams. Obviously, you'll find the odd Fantomas or
System of a Down album in this band's record collections. NOT THE MOTORCYCLE DIARIES
does all the above with an air of dark menace and a twinkle of near insanity in
its eye - guitar riffs splinter off into unusual new directions and the lead singer
veers violently between raging tasmanian devil and innocent choirboy, screaming
something about Argentina and lepers along the way. They may have forgotten to
include a tune amidst all the chaos, but Thumpermonkey get by by managing to confuse
and scare you shitless simultaneously - an arresting and in-your-face debut, NOT
THE MOTORCYCLE DIARIES is explosive stuff.' | |||||||
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