
Part of Doomsday Student's newfound notoriety is indebted to ex-Arab on Radar member Mr. Clinical Depression, who voiced that this relighting of the band had excluded him from the lineup and stolen his writing contributions, deeming them a "fraudulent band playing in the likeness of AOR." It's amusing to find an accomplished musician claiming a band with such pioneering members to be guilty of swindling, aware that outfits such as AIDS Wolf, bbigpigg, and Gila Monster are abound.
As reprehensible as an act like this is, I wouldn't condone it if the crime's product weren't so outstanding. Doomsday Student made their presence known by releasing the opener to their debut, A Jumper's Handbook: an instance of aligned stars for followers awaiting anything that would at least have the caliber of a postscript to Yahweh or the Highway. Composed of a primal cymbal-snare whirlwind, ferociously sour guitar dueling, and Eric Paul voicing his obscene assessment of creation, "Ape In Love" possessed all of Arab on Radar's well established features and rectified their very marginal flaws.
Clocking in at 20 minutes, the succeeding tracks are further testament to the renovations made of the AOR format. With newcomer Paul Vieira and Steve Mattos (also of Athletic Automaton) maneuvering guitars, they favor a considerable deal of low end, and at their highest frequencies (ex: "Dime Store Horsey") strike tortured shrieks. Eric Paul's dirty-minded lyricism no longer exists in the foreground, now acting as a narrative buried deeply enough to be phonic noise to accent the instrumental fury. When audible, Paul's hyper-sexual ramblings are just as comprehensible as they were when shrouded by the band.
A Jumper's Handbook is a return to simplicity, for the betterment of conjuring a potent, noisy, sweat-drenched atmosphere, however, it doesn't address itself to extremity. Possibly adopted from Eric Paul and drummer Craig Kureck's time spent in the Chinese Stars is a prominent rhythmic foundation in which the guitars are rooted, best represented by the start-stop disco of "Her Hairy Graveyard". With age, the members of Doomsday Student have documented themselves to be adroit at their craft, welding together the finest traits of their past ventures into a coherent whole. While we're on the subject of craft, Handbook is arranged with an album's intent, as it closes out with a swelling apocalyptic repetition led by a wretched mantra, "he don't wanna stop."
[Doomsday Student Website]
[Buy A Jumper's Handbook from Anchor Brain]
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