The Metal Column – January 2011

Right, let's avoid any idealistic New Year sentiment for a second and just admit it: January is a drag, man. It was always going to be impossible to top Napalm Death’s rampaging display at Ivory Blacks this time last year, but nevertheless it’s a particularly meagre month for metal.

Still, glaring cynicism aside, there might just be enough sustenance here to keep us nourished

Kicking things off at the 13th Note (6 Jan), Pennsylvania crew Tigers Jaw take their melodic guitar attack to the murky Glasgow basement, sharing the floor with anguished New York post-hardcore quintet and Deathwish records mainstays End Of A Year.

Forgetting for a moment that any post-Phil Lynott incarnation of Thin Lizzy is, in essence, just a bangin’ tribute, this revised line-up featuring Dio/Def Leppard guitarist Vivian Campbell and Ricky Warwick of The Almighty on vocals has the potential to be anything but a joyless rehash. Hitting Glasgow’s O2 Academy and Aberdeen Music Hall (7 & 8 Jan respectively), they’re joined by unhinged legends of meat and potatoes rawk, Supersuckers and The Union.

From the old guard to the new, the O2 Academy plays host to a bill of Scottish metal upstarts that same Saturday (8 Jan) with Arbroath's Vidi Well leading the charge alongside the deep groove of Inverness's Zombie Militia and Paisley metalcore crew Blood Red Visions.

Rising North East thrashers Fallen Fate take to Ivory Blacks (15 Jan) before the highlight of a suitably slow month. Nearly six years on from Lifesblood For The Downtrodden, bearded Southern sludge-merchant Kirk Windstein and his seminal New Orleans outfit Crowbar return to punish King Tut's (18 Jan). Alongside a truly bowel-shaking back catalogue, this is a rare opportunity to hear new material from forthcoming ninth effort Sever The Wicked Hand.

Back in the Academy, hard rock heavyweights The Cult (29 Jan), mark their return to Glasgow, brandishing a handful of new tracks as part of their multimedia ‘Capsule’ project. Joined by the bonged-out genius of Chris Goss’ desert welling Masters Of Reality, it’s as solid a rock bill as you’re likely to meet in the thick of winter.