 |
 |
"I can't get these fucking songs out of my mind!" - Gary St. Clair, grammy award winning producer & song writer "These guys are incredible." - Rev Jones, bassist (MSG, Steel Heart, Black Symphony) "This record kicks ass!" - Bobby Gibb, drummer (Bang Tango) "Sonically, the best record I've ever engineered." - John Blanchard, studio engineer "The drums sound amazing!" - Rikki Rockett, drummer (Poison) "Unbelievable live show." - Stayce Roberts, guitarist/vocalist (Small Town, Boudrows)
Brendan Leeigh interview for GearByOwner.com
@ NAMM 2008
Brendan Leeigh's new kit in Drum Business Magazine, March/April edition
Review from "Jackass Weinerband Monthly Magazine" Hollywood, CA - 07.28.07 The
Thirteenth Hour: Echoes of Life Upon opening the door I saw three somber longhaired gentlemen standing outside my door looking grimfaced and bearing a cd case with the greatest care. As I took in this scene at first I could not believe they were in the same band. After all, they all had the same image. A band should be a hodgepodge of different appearances with no unifying theme. You had your clean cut kid, the straightedge guy with his hair hacked up and falling into his face, the emo guy with all the scars on his wrists, and yes, even a longhaired metal guy. But certainly not three in the same band. Before I could ask what the hell was going on, the angry looking blond one uttered the rage-filled statement "This is The Thirteenth Hour" as he proffered the album. I was a little taken aback at the name, as any band name that starts with "The" should end in a plural, but the seriousness with which he conveyed this made me think twice about questioning it. I took the disc, titled "Echoes of Life", with some trepidation, as the way he held it out seemed almost as if it would burst into flames at any moment. I asked the guys a little bit about themselves and soon found out that the angry looking blond one was Kevin Thomas, the vocalist/rhythm guitarist. He spoke mostly in short, barked monosyllabic statements and I initially thought him a little slow until he took out a piece of paper and wrote a very eloquent piece of prose. It had to do with rainbows bursting into flames and falling out of the sky and turning puppy dogs into hellhounds. Apparently this young man can only communicate effectively through song lyrics. The next member of the band I met was the lead guitarist. I know he was the lead guitarist because for some reason he actually had a guitar with him on a strap and was noodling around on it despite the fact that it wasn't plugged in to anything. Between licks I managed to glean very little information from him other than his name was Andy and the enigmatic phrase "Jackson bad, Carvin good." I was confused by this statement, as everyone knows Jackson makes metal guitars and Carvin makes lame country guitars. But given the fact that he was holding a Carvin guitar (with like 8 or 9 strings on it) and the fact that it looked like it could leave a sizeable dent in my skull if I angered him, I held my tongue. The last representative of The Thirteenth Hour I met was drunk. Not just a little tipsy, but stinking like a refinery, weaving around the room drunk. He mumbled to me that his name was Brendan Leeigh and that he played the drums, but other than that he was remarkably quiet. Didn't go on long diatribes about anything, didn't rant about anything and didn't tell any humorous anecdotes like I've been told drummers like to do. The guy was as quiet, inoffensive and tolerant an individual I've ever met. He was just quietly drunk in the corner. When I inquired as to the whereabouts of the bass player I was eloquently told "No bass player!" When I asked how they recorded an album without a bass player I was told just as eloquently "Pro Tools." I wanted to push the issue, but as the vocalist seemed to be writing a three part epic song about my untimely demise, I decided to let it rest at that. I came to find out these gentlemen were out in search of reviews for their website. It turns out their website was stagnant and boring due to lack of content, and rather than writing some new songs or creating new content, they had decided to merely search out some lame album reviews instead. When I inquired as to why they had come to me, they informed me that my office happened to be closer than anyone else's and they didn't have very much money for gas. They then proceeded to trash my office and show themselves out, leaving the cd on my desk and telling me in no uncertain lyrics what would happen to me if I didn't review it as they requested. So without further ado, here is The Thirteenth Hour.
When the Freaks Come to Feed was next on this disc, which was proving to be very trying on my ears. Squealing guitars and screaming vocals assailed me and I very nearly pushed the skip button when suddenly harmony vocals soothed my frayed nerves and stopped my hand in mid-air. As I type this I still cannot get the vocal hook out of my mind. I can definitely imagine this song playing in constant rotation on Weinerband Online Radio or any other station that doesn't balk at distorted guitars and non-synthesized instruments. The bass and drums work together on Freaks to create a groove, while guitars mostly provide accents. Whoever the bass player was on this, he definitely was adequate. The lead guitarist also proved his worth with a solo that does its job by adding a melodic flavor to the song without dragging it on needlessly. The next song, Victims of Society is more of the same, although the theme of the lyrics is very much an indictment of the media's tendency toward sensationalism and where blame is laid after tragic occurrences. Personally, I don't know what they're talking about, as without the media I wouldn't be able to keep up on Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan's activities 24/7. Other than that, I guess the song is okay. There's guitars and stuff going on. At this point, my ears were exhausted from the sonic assault they had received and I welcomed the clean guitar at the beginning of the title track Echoes of Life. The vocals here were more heartfelt, but still not quite angsty enough for my tastes. One of my favorite vocalizations is the sound of a child old enough to know better throwing a tantrum. That elusive sound is really what I seek in most of the music we feature. But, as I had little choice, I reviewed on. Echoes was lulling me into a state of relaxation, when suddenly some of the heaviest guitars I've ever heard came crashing down on top of me and mercilessly shoved my face into a beltsander. From there I was in for a ride, as the band mixed crushing guitars hammering drums and surprisingly melodic vocals. This was a bit of a change from the tone of the rest of the album, and showed a hint of some deeper songwriting ability that hasn't quite come to the surface. This one track makes me want to see what these guys could come up with on their next effort with a little more musical maturity. Colorblind is the counterpoint to the previous track. There is nothing safe or calming about this song. It is just viciousness from start to finish. There is no sign of the melodic vocals on this song, everything is abrasive. My major complaint with this song is after awhile, the same verse chorus combination over and over is grating. Much as I enjoy it when bands like Deitypunch play the same thing endlessly in a song, here it seems like they would have been better off cutting out at least 1 verse and chorus. This song comes complete with the 'core breakdown I was so missing in their other songs, but it just barely manages to break the repetitive nature of the song. The next track, Prisoner of World seems like rehashing old ideas. The music seems dated and the vocals are just more of the same screaming. The composition of this song seems less mature than some of the other efforts on this album, as if it was written before a big transition within the creative center of the band. I felt like studded leather jackets and bullet belts would suddenly come flying out of the speakers. And since I was a die-hard Culture Club fan in the 80's, this frightened me more than anything I had previously heard on the album. I will say the soundscape in the middle of the song added a fresh element with what sounded to be dogs howling in the rain. I'm not quite sure what it's supposed to be, but that's what it sounds like to me. By now, I figured we were just about out of quality material, when suddenly Collapse began. The drums, guitars and vocals in the verse pushed me back in my seat under a rapid-fire onslaught, and I realized that my ride was not yet over. The quick delivery of the vocals in the verses on this one gives a sense of urgency and franticness that pushes the listener toward something unseen. Just when you think you'll be pushed off a cliff, suddenly melodic vocals take over in the chorus, complete with harmonies (though somewhat sour harmonies.) Collapse is definitely a refreshing wakeup after the last couple tracks. Earlier I referred to the song Colorblind as sounding vicious. I had no idea. The next track gives new meaning to the word. It is aptly titled Vicious. Words cannot be applied to the intense anger that comes through here. I would like to mention the little snippets of dialogue before each chorus. These are delivered through a bullhorn, or maybe even something as simple and archaic as an intercom. It brought to mind some angry CEO delivering angry instructions to a frightened receptionist. This is the image I have in my mind when I listen to this song, and it is my hope that some of you reading this will forever have that image in your minds as well. I think it adds a new 'level' to the song, and I'm glad I could be of assistance in that. As the album winds down one might be tempted to discard the last couple tracks and go back and relisten to some of the earlier ones. This would be a mistake, as one would then not have the experience of Heartsblood. This song begins with some more clean guitar and shows some songwriting that branches out from mere powerchords. More melodic vocals begin this song, but more somber even than those found in Echoes. There is an element of madness in this one, made much more noticeable if one were to read the lyrics. When the whole band comes in here, we visit many different musical themes while Heartsblood seems focused on telling a story rather than just throwing out some verses and choruses. The unifying theme is the melodic chorus with another of those vocal hooks that got stuck in my head. I have to say, this song was a lot more complex than the usual scream, scream, whine that I usually listen to, and a good portion of it probably went over my head. Give me a good three chord song any day. When it came time for the solo, like 18 minutes into the song, I was astonished to find that even though it seemed to drag on for like 5 more minutes, I didn't find myself getting bored. The writing that went into this piece of music destroyed my previous misconception that all solos in songs are merely musical masturbation with no rhyme or reason. Now I can thank The Thirteenth Hour for showing me the truth: that almost all solos in songs are merely musical masturbation with no rhyme or reason. Sons of the Apocalypse is the final track on this album. It has been a wild ride, and the ending is no different. The hi-hat count into this song gives the impression that these guys are here to do a job and they will do it with no bullshit. Although this song sounds a little dated as some of the other tracks do, the sheer heaviness propels this one through with blunt force. I believe some blood actually came out of my ears on this one. So there is my review of The Thirteenth Hour's debut album "Echoes of Life." I hope the guys are satisfied with this, just as I hope they won't come back and break anything else. This is not the greatest album I've ever heard, but it was better than getting the flesh eating virus on your genitals. I hope everyone out there in Weinerband Land has enjoyed this musical journey outside of the comfort of trends and the uniformity of the mainstream at least as much as I disliked it. Well Weinerband fans, always remember our motto: Weinerbands may not be the most original, but at least they don't take chances. Join us next month for our interview with the guys from Rock Tart as their battle with Sheepshank continues. A.
Toole
Review from "The Daily Independent" Ridgecrest, CA - 10.06.02
"Although
these four band members of The Thirteenth Hour look rather docile
without their instruments, the minute they took the stage, as
the third band to perform, they metamorphosised way beyond the
Thunderdome of heavy metalists. Not only did they drive it hard,
they pounded it in with the banging of their heads in rhythm
to the beat, whipping their oh-so-long tresses through the air,
again and again. To do so had to require extreme concentration
as even spectators felt euphoric, dizzy. |
