Gates Ajar

Furtively stalking the heavy metal jungle with nimble, albeit rollicking and stampeding, Skid Row-meets-Tank ardor is Sydney, New South Wales' umlaut, ginger and Felinae digging Sabïre, a dual i.e. two-man trad metal outfit which portentously rocks the mantle with its digitally independent seven-track EP charmingly called Gates Ajar...Feel free to chuffle or "prusten", now!

Joined by drummer/wingman Paul Corben, front leopard-man/keyboardist/four-&-six-string-er Scarlett Monastyrski, excluding Spain's Witchtower, Sabïre leads the recent turd-tossing (i.e. shit-kicking) charge of gruff Tank-sounding stalwarts such as Harlot's Grip, Pulver and Roadrash, to name a meritorious few.

This is vastly the case succeeding "Helheim", a rather tolerable, if not subtly gripping, Himalayan, as well as Oedipal, chant-fueled instrumental intro capped by a demoniacally whooshing chthonic breeze reminiscent of that ignominious, mind-searing scene from 1981's Indiana Jones & The Raiders Of the Lost Ark (in which, upon "ajar-ing" said scurillous ark, an evil Nazi's face melts in gnarly kid-wowing fashion). Next, SM's raucously energetic, nasal and smug Algy Ward-evoking inflections bring the animal house down on the Priest lauded "One For The Road" as it tears, vampire bat-like, out of both Hades and speakers with boisterously buzzing power chords and kinetic, wham-bashing drum beats sure to make your pet ocelot or snow leopard roar...

I'm known to unleash a stentorian bellow myself when the going gets rough, so imagine my unreserved glee surrounding the wickedly pumped up and jumping, no-nonsense sing-along liberator (in addition to inspiring, AC/DC/Bullet-like "ode-to-the-underdog"), "Rise to the Top". Not wanting to spoil things by full disclosure, expect a fiercely ambitious and drum-heavy, not to mention wholly anthem-ic, precursor to yet further heavy rolling, countryside flattening Aussie 'Vickers' in the ubiquitous "Black Widow".

Another top shelf humdinger, along with the domineering "Rise to the Top", is the greasily sleazy, super sardonic and motorized slip-streamer, "Slip of the Whip" (dig its cyclically teetering main riff, then try to remain impassive!). Afterwards, you've the nefariously shuffling, long-winded, five-minute center-piece fiend "Daemons Calling", possessed as it is of a milder, Halidol injected stoner metal refrain, which, to my pointy ears, recalls the placidly hip likes of Dozer, Kal-El and Fireball Ministry, for instance.

Not only am I down with the rakishly stimulating guitar antics and concocted, mashing battery, but also consider the record's oh-so-"tremulous" production imbues a fluid (but no less maniacal) shimmer evocative of an Orient-ally antiquated and ephemeral, portal cloaking sheen.

Closing with the crystalline feel-good rocka-roller, "Make Me Shiver", one is left with a savory valedictory taste in maw thanks to its psychically cloying, if not downright winsome, chorus: "You make me shiver/Ooh! You make me cry!/You make me shiver/Ooh! You make me sigh!". To be sure, anticipate a swath of variety, heedless of Gates Ajar's hip shooting flair - similar to yet another metallic newcomer in India's super lowbrow and frugal, albeit affably thrilling, Machete, with its respective Saint Ironside demo (er, shoehorned in at the last moment due to a technicality...ho-hum, and a bottle of [dark Kraken] rum!).

Much like the lid to Pandora's Box, Sabïre's first foray is hard to shut down - or put away - whence loutishly unbolted...