This isn’t to say that SHVPES have had an easy ride. Rather than riding on the coattails of Griffin’s lineage, SHVPES have spent almost a decade grinding away in the UK’s underground rock scene; making a mix of nu-metal and metalcore that Maiden fans would baulk at. Anyone who’s been around Britain’s smaller circuit would have seen their name on a bill at some point, and this culminated in the Birmingham band rising up the ranks to support Bullet for my Valentine on their 2018 arena dates.

Their debut, ‘Pain. Joy. Ecstasy. Despair’, was a unique blend of genres, but SHVPES cast the net even further on ‘Greater Than’. They take from everything from the grandiosity of U2, to the glitch-hop of Dan Le Sac VS Scroobious Pip. On album closer ‘Counterfeit’, they bounce from shit-kicking hardcore to Prince-styled funk. Like System of a Down in their heyday, it never comes across as forced experimentation – it comes across as a logical creative decision by a band brave enough to push boundaries.

You can also draw comparisons to System of a Down on a thematic level. ‘Greater Than’ deals in the darker side of life – from cheating partners on ‘Something Else’, to mental illness on ‘War’, to a real life incident where their friend was left fighting for his life on the haunting ‘Afterlife’. Yet, Griffin’s lyrical approach, combined with the playful experimentation of the music, keeps the record from being a downer.

‘Hey Brother’ exemplifies this. Like several of the songs on ‘Greater Than’, ‘Hey Brother’ deals with the subject of anxiety. However, Griffin personifies the disorder as a dramatic friend, asking “hey brother, where’d you go? How you been?”. This, combined with a raw, punky performance from the band, makes the song cathartic rather than mopey.

The only missteps on the album are the throwaway songs where SHVPES indulge their hip-hop influences to their fullest. ‘Two Wrongs, No Rights’ and ‘I’m Stuck’ both clock in at under 2 minutes long, almost as if the band knew that these songs wouldn’t be taken seriously. ‘Note To Cell’ is also an uncharacteristically uninspired track tucked away near the end of the album.

Apart from these minor mistakes, SHVPES deliver important messages sound tracked to riotous music. After a decade of grinding away, ‘Greater Than’ is a big step towards the band finding the success they deserve.

SEAN LEWIS

Yet, every fan of “The D” must admit that the comedy rock duo has had a downward trajectory from the start. From the cult hit of the original Tenacious D TV show, to the middling movie, to the disaster that was ‘The Rise of the Phoenix’. The evidence is out there: the joke is wearing thin.

It may surprise you to learn that, so far, the ‘Post-Apocalypto’ web series has been a welcome return to the band’s stoner comedy roots. It is not a masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination, but the graphic, still frame imagery can occasionally provoke pure grossed-out laughs. For fans of The D, it harks back to the golden age when it didn’t feel like the band were trying too hard.

Unfortunately, half the track-listing for the soundtrack to ‘Post-Apocalypto’ are skits ripped straight from the show. Tenacious D have always included skits on their albums, and some of them have been among the funniest things in their catalogue. Sadly, on this album, they are pure padding.

The skits from the episodes that have been currently released make you feel like you’re retracing old ground. The skits from future episodes fall incredibly flat. I mean, the idea of The Terminator defeating a Lovecraftian monster called “Daddy Ding-Dong” sounds like it would make a great cartoon. Would anyone in their right mind want to just listen to the audio from it?

With the skits best ignored, it is up to the songs to save ‘Post-Apocalypto’ from Armageddon.

While some provoke a snort and a smirk, anyone expecting songs that match the quality of the debut will be disappointed. Highlights like the amazingly obscene ‘Making Love’, and the metal parody ‘Daddy Ding Song’ save the album from being unlistenable. As with the skits, however, all the songs are better within the context of the show.

So basically, just watch the show. It is probably the best thing Tenacious D have done since ‘The Pick of Destiny’. As for this slapped together soundtrack, it may please superfans, but for everyone else, it is a bit of a slog.

SEAN LEWIS

‘You Won’t Get What You Want’ does have its reference points. Suicide, The Jesus Lizard, and Swans immediately spring to mind. Yet, there’s not a single notable artist that has layered noise, grind, and industrial in such an overwhelming and terrifying way.

Starting with a blast of ominous industrial noise, ‘City Song’ sets a pitch black tone for the rest of the album. This bleeds into ‘Long Road No Turns’, which has a buzzing, waspy riff that induces a primal anxiety. By the time ‘Satan in the Wait’ kicks in, you are deep within the mire. ‘You Won’t Get What You Want’ masterfully creates a brooding, intense atmosphere that only intensifies as you sink further into it.

On ‘The Flammable Man’, Daughters’ grindcore roots rear their ugly head. Despite being a little over two minutes long, it manages to create the same tension as seven minute monoliths like ‘Ocean Song’. Daughters shift gears into full on Trent Reznor mode on ‘Less Sex’; the subdued synths and sudden blasts of feedback, coupled with a surprisingly soulful vocal performance from Alexis S. F. Marshall, create a seductively dark slice of industrial rock.

‘Daughter’ combines a primordial performance from drummer John Syverson with synths and guitars that sound like they’re influenced more by nightmares than conventional music. ‘The Reason They Hate Me’ is a prime example of why Daughters hate the term “math rock”. Guitarist Nicholas Andrew Sadler’s performance may be complex, but it doesn’t come across as calculated. The overall vibe takes precedent over technical mastery on ‘You Won’t Get What You Want’.

The album climaxes with ‘Guest House’, with Alexis finally letting the tension release with a manic vocal performance. A yelped refrain of “knocking and knocking and knocking and knocking and knocking/let me in” haunts the track. No thank you.

‘You Won’t Get What You Want’ doesn’t conjure up feelings that are associated with other albums. It conjures the same feeling you get after watching ‘It Follows’ – it’s disconcerting, frightening, but above all else, captivating. You may think you’ve heard it all before, but you’ve never heard ‘You Won’t Get What You Want’.

SEAN LEWIS

So, with a big, chartbusting ballad under their belts, and singer David Draiman removing his iconic chin piercings, ‘Evolution’ is set up to be a step in a more mature direction. In fact, Draiman cited Metallica’s landmark “black album” as a major reference point for ‘Evolution’, and it’s heartening to hear that on some level he achieves these lofty ambitions. Disturbed aren’t reinventing the steel, but they are a refreshingly solid mainstream rock act that harks back to good old days when the genre was on top.

As rock ballads go, you could pop ‘A Reason To Fight’ in a playlist along with ‘November Rain’ and ‘The Unforgiven’ and no one would grumble, whilst ‘Are You Ready’ is a ready-for-the-radio metal single bound to destroy festivals next summer. ‘Already Gone’ is the most successful attempt to capitalise on the surprise success of ‘The Sound of Silence’, with its immaculately produced strings and suitably melodramatic performance from Draiman.

The album’s downfall is twofold. The first major problem arises in the number of ballads on ‘Evolution’. Disturbed would have been fools if they didn’t try to replicate the success of ‘The Sound of Silence’, yet the sudden shifts between metal posturing and folksy strumming can be jarring. Out of context, ‘Hold on to Memories’ is a cute little tune about holding onto the ones you love; after the industrial metal bounce of ‘Stronger on Your Own’, it comes across a bit Spinal Tap.

This self-seriousness is also a problem when Draiman decides to indulge his vocal idiosyncrasies. Take the “evil” laugh at the start of ‘Stronger on Your Own’ as an example. Great rock is built on a foundation of camp. When its combined with a serious effort to mature a sound, it leaves you not knowing whether to laugh or cringe.

‘Evolution’ is a commendable stab at making Disturbed the premiere act rock needs. Unfortunately, the desperation to hold on to the crossover success of ‘The Sound of Silence’ is a little too on the nose. This, combined with Disturbed’s unwillingness to grow out of their nu-metal roots, makes ‘Evolution’ an uneven ride.

SEAN LEWIS

Despite their ups and downs, Joyce Manor have produced two fully fledged modern classics. This would be their debut, and the perfection of the formula, ‘Never Hungover Again’. Their last album, ‘Cody’, proved that maturity doesn’t have to be a dirty word in the punk community, as they replaced pure punch with a more subtle, creeping melancholy. ‘Million Dollars To Kill Me’ continues down the path of self-discovery, chronicling the pitfalls of drifting unconsciously into the mundane world of adulthood.

Throughout the record, there’s a sense of sighing nostalgia. On the stream of consciousness ‘I’m Not The One’, the second verse spins a tale of a hardcore show. The promoter books “the shows where they sell the most clothes cause they’re so limited”, while the crowd is “trying to decide who’s good, and who’s just poor”. ‘Friends We Met Online’, meanwhile, is a look back at the online communities that defined the adolescence of many music nerds. Despite the song’s genuinely sweet statements about forums being “a really big part of our lives”, the song smashes the rose tinted goggles with the realisation that they’re misremembering “such sad horrible times”.

This disappointment seems to linger in the life of singer and guitarist Barry Johnson. In the song ‘Million Dollars To Kill Me’, Johnson’s reflections on a lost lover lead him to the realisation that he’s become the “asshole from a bar on a break in a break room” and he’s “never happy”.

At this point, you may be thinking that Joyce Manor are coming across as quite a bummer on ‘Million Dollars To Kill Me’, yet they are careful to balance this out with major key melodies that draw influence from everything from ’90s pop-punk to psychedelia. ‘Big Lie’ trades off its musings on loneliness with a surf inspired riff on the chorus. Meanwhile, the title track and ‘Silly Games’ are heavily indebted to the fuzzed out pop rock of Weezer’s ‘Blue Album’.

‘A Million Dollars To Kill Me’ is a natural progression of maturity for Joyce Manor. If ‘Cody’ was about leaving behind the heightened drama of youth, then this one is about settling in to the monotony of adulthood. This is the best thing about Joyce Manor: their evolution never feels like it reached a destination, leaving the band to mature along with their audience.

SEAN LEWIS

The most obvious evolution in their sound is adding John Jarvis, a bass player, to their line-up. The added low end makes Pig Destroyer’s sound almost overwhelmingly dense. On pure grindcore blitzkriegs like ‘Trap Door Man’, the combination of the guitar tone, blast beats, and low end create a wall of noise that could blast a hole in a bank vault door. Meanwhile, ‘Mt. Skull’ is a thick wall of sludge that hits you in the face full force.

This added weight to their sound is made the more impactful with the (slightly) slower tempos of ‘Concrete Beast’ and ‘House of Snakes’. Bordering on pure sludge metal, these songs prove that after 20 years, Pig Destroyer can keep up with youngsters like Conjurer in terms of making modern extreme metal. Its enough to make Eyehategod want a herbal tea and a lie down.

‘House of Snakes’ is a roll of the dice, but one that pays off. Purists may wince at the song’s seven-minute run time, but Pig Destroyer crawl from a punishing sludge stomp to a brutal death metal finale in what may be the band’s apex. It’s hard not to see any extreme metal fan at least begrudgingly acknowledge the talent on display.

‘Head Cage’ is yet another giant leap forward for one of the leading lights in boundary pushing extreme metal. Like the medieval torture device the album takes its name from, it’s skull-crushingly heavy. Try it – if you’re brave enough.

SEAN LEWIS