Released: 2015, Prosthetic Records
Reviewer: Metal-Rules.com UK Team
Damian Murdoch Trio is made up of three talented musicians with Aussie guitarist Damian Murdoch leading the charge alongside two exceptionally skilled companions in Michael Posche (Drums) and Harry Stockle (bass), both of Austrian decent. A Triumvirate of allying forces combining to create 'Electric Tentacles' a nine track album which contains a wealth of content that obliterates all the basic matter of all that is funk and groove, reforms said basic matter, launches it into the primordial ooze and rapidly expands its evolution to form some quantum funk metal creature of vastly superior intelligence and levels of aggression. As a wholly instrumental piece this album relies heavily on the ingenuity of each member, with each one adding their well characterised style and ability to combine into some extremely tight compositions.
The album opens with 'The Opener' and the creature breathes life, emitting some toxic fumes of highly combustible riffery and infectious rhythm. The mantra is to spread this filthy smog cloud, expand it and let it envelop the listener causing cranial convulsions of righteous fulfilment. The second track 'Funky Desert Rider' is aptly named with a rolling funk base introduction that metamorphoses into a darker atmosphere. The dark atmosphere is then penetrated by the returning funk and all is well again in the world. There is a clever structure to this shift in style then return and it flows very naturally over the course of the song. Natural yet un-natural as several elements are wielded and forged into a unified dancing blade of experimental metal.
The Final Absturtz brings a sickening portion of dirty blues driven guitar which helps bring on that sought after and lauded sneer of approval. A combination of slow yet punctuational formations, easily spreading and feeding off its own sordid base point. All this to a very basic yet fundamental beat which has been improvised on time and time again, although time and time again there is this niche to be exploited which Damian Murdoch and his fellow musical bandits fully and pervertedly twist into positions that most parents would shield their children's eyes/ears from.
Every track on this album has its own special attributes that make it more and more enjoyable. Visceral Circles of Cosmos is a revolving dose of well annunciated bass lines which dominates the feel of the song before The Eternal Search For The Alpha announces Damian Murdoch once again to battle between the two conjoined twins of varying end pollutions. All this before Lean Kathleen's Killing Machine which reunites these two battling body sharing mutant, hybrid funk abiding citizens to another sort of lighter musical compromise.
The battle is well endured by all sides as they settle their differences and enjoy each others company once again. The Dragon Slayed The Princess acts as the cooling formulae to a previously hostile environment. Michael Posche and Harry Stockle coerce Damian back into the fray slowly but within reason until these heavy bottom end issues rise to the surface again. By this point Damian has held onto this agreement of force, again providing some muddy tone emulsion into this now zombie being of extra-terrestrial funk dimensions. Sleazeball acts as a fair penultimate piece to this album.
The last piece of this disorientating 'Ocean' of an album is titled Jump Rope With Electric Wires. This may describe the elation of getting a once defunct car to start, or it may not. Recently this reviewer has lived through such trials and has wished thats said reviewer would have had access to such facetious tunage. Ones self would have felt better about one's self having no capability of fixings one's car's problems as long as there was a song making fun of such mentioned activities. A funky end to a funky album, with a funky fundamental outlook which would be hard to properly categorise.
An ancient albino hippy pummel horse possibly? A Homo Erectus skull caving rock badungin? Whatever they have created brings streams of funky tears to ones eye holes. The album has such beautiful moments of perfectionist solos covered with more than exceptional bass licks and accompanied drum sections that truly make this an album that combines some of the lost virtuoso material that such greats as Steve Vai, Satriani and maybe even Yngwie portrayed a few decades ago. Each and every moment is perfectly complimented by the next. Each member feeds off the other and the gastronomical result is a solid formation of funk nuggets, one which one would collect for this Easter season and hide for random kids to find. If that is sick then blame the crucified apostle that probably brought funk to Jerusalem in the first place.