THE HIDDEN HAND (usa) & ALIX (it) in Sojo, July 7th (Guy Peters)
INTERVIEW SCOTT “WINO” WEINRICH
CONCERT REVIEW
… and then The Hidden Hand, the power-trio led by Scott “Wino” Weinrich. If you glance over this guy’s credentials,
you’d expect him to attract huge crowds (which was not the case) – he not only formed The Obsessed, one of the best and most
important doom metal bands in the wake of Black Sabbath, but was a key member of Saint Vitus as well. On top of that, the guy
founded cult favorite Spirit Caravan (which he disbanded a few years later), played with ex-Pentagram Vic Griffin in Place of
Skulls and now leads The Hidden Hand. You could say he’s about the most important musician in the doom-scene of the past 25
years, while several people even credit him with inventing stoner rock. Whatever his contribution may be, it’s Wino the
musician that we’re talking about here and as a guitar player he’s worshipped by tons of colleagues, ranging from Dave Grohl
(who invited him to play on the Probot-album), Pantera’s Phil Anselmo, Fugazi’s Joe Lally (whom he taught bass) and
Henry Rollins, who once gave an accurate description of his style: “[Wino’s] guitar playing sounds like TROUBLE –
not the band, the situation.” He’s right, as Wino has been the author of loads and loads of skull-breaking riffs and ripping
guitar solos that incorporate several decades of music history, from Blue Cheer’s muddy fuzziness to Black Sabbath’s titanic
bludgeoning. It’s not that he churns out the most brutal music imaginable – it’s no Slayer, Mastodon or Napalm Death – but
in a way his style is as heavy and – more importantly – as passionately sincere as theirs. His immense guitar
sound is already quite impressive in itself, but his stage presence really tops it off, as he has more charisma than
yesterday’s bands combined. Being in The Hidden Hand is not just entertainment, it’s hard work, but you’ll rarely see
musicians this dedicated and determined to rip things up. Although he may look like Michael Moore’s younger brother,
Bruce Falkinburg’s an incredibly energetic stage animal, jumping around bare-chested and laying down grooves that are so
heavy the floor nearly started trembling. Drummer Dave Hennessy makes the visual aspect of the band even weirder, being the
youngest by far, and looking as if he could’ve been a member of Pavement or some band like that. The band kicked off the set
with “Falconstone,” their contribution to the High Volume-compilation of stoner rock released by High Times Magazine
, but subsequently tore through their debut release (and only album so far) with an overpowering eagerness. Wino –
often in his usual pose, bended backwards – churned out chord sequences that were at once sludgy and complex, Falkinburg
assaulted his 4-stringed weapon as if there was no tomorrow and Hennessy topped it off by combining intricate drum patterns
with more straightforward hard-hitting (not to mention the manic fills during “Sunblood,” which they dedicated to organizers
Benny and Sara). Falkinburg and Wino both shared vocals, which they did with an indignant ferocity. Of course, The Hidden
Hand’s Divine Propaganda was the most politically-inspired album of Wino’s career, an intelligent and unapologetic
dissection of the cancers of American society directed by a religious right represented by good ole Dubya. Songs like
“Bellicose Rhetoric,” the album’s title track and the brief punk-assault of “Screw the Naysayers” don’t need much of an
explanation. So, there’s definitely a punk undercurrent throughout Wino’s career – and Falkinburg’s performance certainly
added quite a lot of “punk” as well – but more than anything, The Hidden Hand is about those guitar antics. Songs like
“Oamyata,” “Tranquillity Base” and “For All the Wrong Reasons,” they’re slabs of agitprop that attack the gut AND the
head with a cleverness and force that’s simply amazing. Yet, no matter how much the live versions of these songs exceeded
the expectations raised by the album (no matter how good a producer you are – you’ll never capture the live presence of a
band like this on tape), the icing on the cake was definitely the new stuff the band played. Because the album isn’t out yet
(it’s due out in the fall on Southern Lord (US) and Exile on Mainstream (Europe)) and because of their refusal
to waste energy on useless banter between the songs (except for a “We like it HOT!”), I’m not really sure how many
new songs they actually played, but what I heard was damn impressive and repeatedly stunning. I asked Wino about it after
the show, and he confirmed that the new songs have taken quite a different direction: they’re a deviation from the “standard”
path, so to speak. It’s not that his albums were really simple to begin with, but the new material seems to be based on the
familiar doom/hard-rock, while there’s an experimentalism added that veers between the complexity of ‘70’s prog-rock and the
more atmospheric soundscapes that Dave Hennessy brought into the band, with a background in Ostinato (a band that’s close to
post-rock). Instead of easily recognizable grooves, these songs deal in another matter, with soft/loud-dynamics, feverish
twists and turns and climactic noise bursts. It certainly didn’t sound accessible at first, but the band’s ultra-tight
interplay and virtuosity soon convinced you that something special was goin’ on on stage. After a 10-song set, the band
played two encores that had ‘em turn up all the meters in the red, the sweat fly in all directions and the energy barely
bearable. All the while, Wino & Co. played with the fierceness of deranged preachers, except that they really knew what
they were doing. I may not be an expert on Wino’s output – I mean, I’ve probably only heard a fraction of al the stuff
he’s done in his entire career – but based on a) the new material I heard and b) the band’s performance, I think it’s pretty
safe to say that Wino’s an icon who’s currently making the music of his life and enjoying every single minute of it. It’s
quite a blast to witness that, believe me.
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I hadn’t even heard of Alix before they stepped on the stage, except for the fact that they are a female-fronted stoner
band, but with their short 9-song set they proved that they do deserve a wider audience. Because I got my hands on their
latest album only after the show, I’m not exactly sure which songs they delivered, but it pretty much seemed to follow the
order of Ground, as the two opening songs from that album – “Out of the Sighs” and the title track kicked off the gig
on a groovy note: while guitar player Pippo de Palma squeezed a warm, fuzzy desert sound out of his guitar, bass player
Franco Romanelli started dancing all over the place and bangin’ his head to the straightforward bashing of drummer Andrea
Insulla. While they’re obviously inspired by the classic stoner sound – led-heavy bass lines, crashing cymbals and a fat
guitar tone that hovers between crushing chords and psychedelic leads – they sounded more accessible than most of their
stoner brethren out there, occasionally with a merciless groove (“Ground”) that recalled Unida’s booty-shakin’ blend of
desert rock and in-your-face hard rock. Of course, it wouldn’t be as special if it weren’t for singer Alice, whose unique
voice, which switched from a deeply sensual whisper to nearly ecstatic shrieks - is something different, to say the least.
Think of a merger of Siouxsie (but more vibrato), Shirley Manson (not as girlish) and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ Karen O.
(but less hysteric) during songs like “Like a Flood” and “Take My Hands” which are basically based on one or two soulful,
recurring patterns. Sometimes the barrage of caterwauling became something of an acquired taste - especially during the
songs that seemed to explore the territory between straightforward stoner and stuff you might call “alt rock”
(“I’ll be Gone,” “Fun”) – but it worked excellent during the songs that would have you move your head unconsciously,
like the opening tracks, the funky “Take My Hands” and the final song, during which the bass player switched to electric
slide guitar and led the band through a particularly pleasing romp that was well-received by the audience.