Episode 66 – The Houde Abides: Kataklysm 1993-1996

Have you even the slightest notion of mystical reincarnation? Unfortunately for you, as for the rest of we mortals, even after spending hours with the music of Houde-era Kataklysm, it is unlikely that you will have any tighter apprehension of the matter. On this, the 66th episode of Radical Research, we peel back the lacerating layers of one of Canada's most confounding exports. The music that Kataklysm issued from 1992 to 1996 was directed by the scorched, distorted vision of vocalist, Sylvain Houde, whose mongrel utterances vibrate at a pitch that is inaccessible to any other singer, past or present. The band's music, born of a furious confrontation with Houde's offensive, keeps pace with the vocalist's howling incantations, marshaling the cruel resources of the dreaded Northern Hyperblast. Tune in for a lesson in violence Quebecoise.  Note I: Please consider donating if you listen to Radical Research often: https://www.paypal.me/rrpodcast We also have a webstore where you can find shirts, CDs, and books: http://radicalresearch.org/shop/Music cited, in order of appearance: “Frozen in Time” (The Mystical Gate of Reincarnation, 1993) “Mystical Plane of Evil” (The Mystical Gate of Reincarnation, 1993) “Shrine of Life” (The Mystical Gate of Reincarnation, 1993) “Whirlwind of Withered Blossoms” (Sorcery, 1995) “Elder God” (Sorcery, 1995) “Dead Zygote” (Sorcery, 1995) “Beckoning of the Xul” (Temple of Knowledge, 1996) “The Awakener” (Temple of Knowledge, 1996) Ep. 67 preview: Arachnoid, “Toutes Ces Images” (Arachnoid, 1979)Radical Research is a conversation about the inner- and outer-reaches of rock and metal music. This podcast is conceived and conducted by Jeff Wagner and Hunter Ginn. Though we consume music in a variety of ways, we give particular privilege to the immersive, full-album listening experience. Likewise, we believe that tangible music formats help provide the richest, most rewarding immersions and that music, artwork, and song titles cooperate to produce a singular effect on the listener. Great music is worth more than we ever pay for it.