MELODIC MELANCHOLIA: THE FUNERAL AND THE TWILIGHT

There's something wonderfully surreal and creepy swirling around The Funeral and the Twilight. Macabre, beards, and some of the best damn vibrato-goth vocals I've heard. Something lurks beneath the music. It digs its claws into you and doesn't let go, peeling away one layer at a time.  

It's confounding. Even rogue critic, Drew Ailes, is at a loss, when it comes to describing TFATT's new album Lust: "decided that IT'S FUCKED. seriously, i don’t understand it. sounds like a mariachi band playing NAPALM DEATH songs in a castle. totally baffling, engrossing music. i think i like it." 

There's the obvious mangled-Morrissey and jumbled-Joy Division comparisons. It's not like they hide it. The lyrics, though, push TFATT beyond the easy comparisons into something that is decidedly more devilish and delicious. Seriously, gems like "i drank your river, i drank it gone and missed, i piss out your river, i piss you out as piss. i put you on the table, i open you up" or "I watched my daughter die. We buried her up to her chest. I watched the first stone cast. Until the very last" course through every song. The music is equally unstable: angst-ridden melodies clamor against any expectation you may have on how all the pieces fit together.

The rawness of the live sets is just as impressive. Straight-up emotional intensity that pierces and lacerates the audience. It was awesome to watch the room steadily fill when they took the stage last year. TFATT has been one of the brightest of many bright spots in the past few years, and we're stoked that they're able to bring back their evolving brand of goth-infused satanic death doom jazz. 

QUIT YOUR DAY JOB: TOTAL FEST WELCOMES BACK BRAIN TUMORS

If you were lucky enough to catch Brain Tumors at last year's Total Fest, then you know the chaos that this four-piece throws at you. Brain Tumors rages through some of the brashest, venomous, feedback-riddled, ass-kicking hardcore to come out in the past few years. Another band that calls Minneapolis home (what's up with the Twin Cities?), they (Drew Ailes, Patrick Dillon, Joel Gomez, and Dan Johnson) direct all of their pissed-off, sarcastic, loud, unrelenting, primal energy at everything they encounter.

That's enough, for me.

But, they don't stop there. They're straight-up performers (which sounds like a slight, but it's not). They seriously do not give a shit - everything, including themselves, is fair game. Take a glance at the tour blog, Hardly Human. It's hilarious from top to bottom, with nothing (bands, labels, bars, people, parking lots, water fountains, food, dogs, etc.) escaping Drew's scathing eye. In spite of things getting under their collective skin, Brain Tumors maintain a tongue-in cheek attitude that helps keep them fresh and entertaining. It's awesome loud, pounding stuff that doesn't allow you to be comfortable, but it also doesn't allow you to take your angst too seriously. Sure, the world is a complete mess, but walking around pissed off gets you nowhere. If you can't take the time to laugh at yourself, then you have no right to the mantra "Fuck YouForever."

Here's a live set, clocking in at 6:39: