Tourettes
Detestimony
7.6
I know I’m bound to be martyred shortly after many of you scan through the following text, but I am at a stage in my writing where I just don’t give a fuck anymore. A handful of our so-called elitist readers will be immediately turned off when they discover that my descriptive vocabulary consists of dirty words like Slipknot, Marilyn Manson, Deftones, and Korn. Bah! Ya know, those types that are dead set against bands going anywhere with their careers? Hey, success is the enemy, right? Making a living off of your hard work is not permitted. At this junction of my review, I would like to take this opportunity to tell those close-minded pricks to suck my taint. Click the back button NOW before you reach that point of no return, and are drawn in by that other ghastly word, accessibility.
Now, for those of you that are still with me, and are willing to throw caution to the wind and give this upcoming act a fair chance, I thank you for sticking around through my rant. Lets move on! Correct me if I’m wrong here, but when a band literally sells everything they own just so they can afford to tour the world and share the music they love with others, that spells out true dedication and drive. This is only one of many defining characteristics of Australia’s Tourettes that is evidence that they deserve every last ounce of notoriety that they can dig up.
Stylistically an infusion of the abovementioned acts, this female fronted quartet from Sydney has larger hairier balls than the entire nu-metal scene combined. Fans of Kittie and Otep are sure to weep at the sight of their beloved girl groups being destroyed by the explosive entity that is Michele Madden and company. Tourettes are a real to life representation of the dictionary definition in every way; an erratic outburst of obscene proportions where every bit of energy is exhausted.
On their second self-financed undertaking Detestimony, the songs shape-shift from one extreme to another. A universal template is put into play as the basic foundation, but from there the band plugs in certain elements from their bottomless grab bag of ideas that are not commonly used in the genre. Employing a ‘shoot from the hip’ formula, the Tourettes line of attack is to kick ass now, and demand answers later.
Musically, guitar passages (courtesy of Ash Manning) range from heavy down-tuned grooves, Meshuggah like chug fests, and eerie chorused clean phrases, while low end segments (handled by Ross Empson) have a Tool-esque feel, with slightly more technicality. Finally, Mike Quigley’s drum work is a great deal like that of Lacuna Coil. Industrial samples that recall Fear Factory and The Kovenant are used throughout each of the eight tracks, exuding quite a unique vibe. Ms. Madden’s vocals are especially difficult to pinpoint. No one singer in the business has a voice that matches up with hers. Thorough dissection reveals possible merged vocal DNA codes of such greats as Layne Staley, Mike Patton, Corey Taylor, and Angela Gossow. A very versatile talent, indeed.
The highest point on Detestimony for me was the Deftones meets Antichrist Superstar era Marilyn Manson cut “Faust”. Written about the struggles of success, this track is the band’s autobiography, so to speak. With the line ‘…traded your heart to be a star…’ this seems more than apparent. Coming in a close second is “Don’t Blame Me” where we see the band going way out there and back again. An experimental song, it grinds one minute then has a carnival feel reminiscent of the old self-titled Mr. Bungle album.
Though it has died down somewhat in the last couple of years, this style of metal is still very marketable and on demand. With Detestimony, Tourettes have given fans of the genre something new to latch onto and the haters all the more reason to turn their noses towards the sky. Maybe they will rethink their hasty opinions, after all, it would be a sin to pass this disc up.
