Albums that rock hard, fast, infectiously

It's all about blood, sweat and beers in the latest roundup of Vegas music releases:

VARIOUS ARTISTS, "Clovenhoof's True Underground Vol. 1" (clovenhoofproductions.com): He's one of the patron saints of the Vegas metal scene, sans the celestial connotations -- perhaps "patron Antichrist" would be a more fitting handle. As a show promoter and head of his own indie label, Lord Clovenhoof, a tireless, goateed dude named Pat, does as much as anyone to stoke the flames of the local metal ranks (and he does so by tossing plenty of crucifixes into said fires, no doubt).

His latest release shines a light on the darkest corners of the Vegas underground with raw, lo-fi thrash (Crucify the Enslaved), one-man slam grind (Phalloplasty), haunting, depressive black metal atmospherics (Valkynas), heavyweight doom death (Spun in Darkness) and lots more over 13 tracks.

It's an excellent snapshot of the scene, grim as an autopsy photo.

CARAVELS, "Well Worn" split 12 inch (facebook.com/caravels): Their songs are like wind sprints: manic bursts of energy, followed by a breath catching moment or two, and then it's time to get heart rates back to ventricle exploding levels.

Caravels have been tightening the screws on their emotive post-hardcore for a few years now and this split release with Virginia instrumentalists Gifts from Enola sees them balancing texture and torque with both finesse and fury. Hyperventilating vocals and slash and burn guitars get ratcheted up into a grand crescendo of frustration and release, and then aplomb gives way to atmosphere and reflection.

It's some physically draining stuff.

Seriously, someone toss these dudes a towel to dry off with, already.

THE PEOPLE'S WHISKEY, "8 Tracks and Dub Sacks" (reverbnation.com/thepeopleswhiskey): Instant gratification is their business, and business is good, even during these challenging economic times.

The People's Whiskey's visceral, infectious bar punk is posited on high energy and higher blood alcohol levels. The band comes on like one long prolonged head rush, all guitar frenzy and punch- drunk melody underscored by a sub-honky-tonk swing, in places.

Their tunes are upbeat in tempo and temperament, fat-free and a lot like the Friday nights the band occasionally sings of: You may not remember everything tomorrow, but that hardly matters when today is all about living it up like there won't be a tomorrow anyway.

Contact reporter Jason Bracelin at jbracelin@reviewjournal.com
or 702-383-0476.