With Zardoz on in the background (a masterpiece of psycho-delia cinema, if you’ve never seen it) and a bottle of Augustiner Maximator to dull the senses as I wait for both an eBay auction to end and the purported climatic apocalypse to take me, we cap the week. It’s been pretty dense around there the last two days — at least as far as word counts are concerned — so I’m going to try to keep it short now. Thank you, as always, for reading.

In case you didn’t press play yet, the above is a clip of the Serbian band Consecration playing live. Just a reminder that riff-worship, however underground, is found in all corners of the world. Please enjoy.

If you missed the announcement, The Obelisk and BrooklynVegan have teamed to present a show Sept. 20 at Union Pool in Brooklyn with Suplecs, The Brought Low, and Lo-Pan. I’m very much looking forward to it and I hope you are as well if you’re in the area — or even if you’re not and you just get excited about these things. More power to you.

Next week, I’ll have info about a shuffle in the release schedule for The Maple Forum. Turns out there’s going to be something prior to Clamfight that could be out within a month or so, and unlike everything I’ve put out on the label so far, it’s going to be vinyl. A 7″, but vinyl nonetheless. I didn’t think I’d live to see the day.

I’ll also have my interview with Tony Aguilar of Totimoshi and reviews of Mars Red Sky, Rwake, Alkahest and Skraeckoedlan. We’ll close out the month with August’s numbers, and I’m waiting on a couple Six Dumb Questions interviews, so if any of them comes back, I’ll get that up probably, because I’m compulsive and that’s how I do.

Until then, the weekend. If you’re on the East Coast of the US, I hope you’re safe in the impending Hurricane Irene. I look forward to a couple days of not having power, downed trees in the valley, etc. Been a while, anyway.

Doubtless I’ll find a way to hit the forum nonetheless, and if so, hope to see you there. Otherwise, wherever you are, have a great and safe weekend.

Anyone who heard Massachusetts stoner-doom trio Faces of Bayon‘s debut CD, Heart of the Fire, would likely be glad to tell you the band has a penchant for the epic. Well, the interview I did with guitarist/vocalist Matt Smith, who also did a stretch in landmark New England outfit Warhorse, follows suit. Smith — joined in Faces of Bayon by bassist Ron Miles and drummer Mike Brown — was more than eager to open up on a range of topics surrounding the band.

And to be fair, there’s a lot to talk about. Not only is Heart of the Fire among 2011’s most fascinating and diverse doom releases — balancing punishingly heavy riffs and a darkened psychedelic feel against a narrative documenting the fall of Lucifer — but the circumstances under which it was realized would have been the undoing of many bands. The three-piece’s original drummer, Matt Davis, died in January of this year, leaving Smith and Miles with the difficult choice of pressing on or quitting altogether.

I don’t feel like I need a spoiler alert before I say they kept the band going. Faces of Bayon regrouped with Brown on drums and pushed forward with the release of Heart of the Fire. The album now stands as a tribute to Davis, who both played on and recorded it. Though he didn’t live to see it, Smith credits him for it existing and being released at all.

In the conversation that follows, Smith recounts the devastation the band felt at the loss of Davis and the support of the local community around them that made them keep going, the delays in releasing Heart of the Fire, being the only doom band on the New England Metal and Hardcore Festival this year, what inspired him to adopt the Luciferian concept and how that story — it’s pretty famous, you’ve probably heard it — relates to his own experience of going through a divorce.

The complete 6,000-word Q&A is after the jump. Please enjoy.

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Oppressive in its atmosphere and crafted with an unrelenting darkness of aesthetic, Forever the End, the Seventh Rule Recordings debut from Portland, Oregon’s Atriarch is an intelligent masterwork that harkens to a very particular sense of drama. In listening to the record, it’s hard to believe the album is only 36 minutes long, because when you’re in it, the sound is so open, so sparse, and the spaces the guitar, bass, drums and vocals occupy so overwhelming, that it seems hard for a band to affect such a mood in so short a time. It’s a grieving, sorrowful atmosphere, playing modern doom tonality off depressive ‘90s-style guitar weeping that’s more Gothic than “gothic,” but owes something to drunken teenage late nights spent hanging out in cemeteries nonetheless. The four mostly-extended tracks of Forever the End keep to linear structures, and the result is they flow together almost as one larger piece. That they’re wrapped around a central and pervasive sonic misanthropy only enhances this feel, and through all of “Plague,” “Shadows,” “Fracture” and “Downfall,” Atriarch balance doomed heaviness with black metal’s cultish sensibility, vocalist Lenny resting far back in the mix for vicious cavern screams or cutting through with a sort of monotonic clean singing.

“Plague,” the tone-setting opener from which no light can escape, does bleed right into “Shadows,” with Brooks’ guitar emitting patient, cyclical patterns that set the stage for Maxamillion’s drums, which have the solemn duty of holding together material that’s both intricate and slow. The production on the whole of Forever the End is raw – the guitar sounds raw, Nick’s bass, though about the only show of warmth Atriarch have on offer, is raw, the vocals are raw – but the drums sound crisp and clear nonetheless. Maxamillion’s snare seems far back as “Shadows” moves into its lumbering heavier section after three minutes in, but the bass drum and toms come across well, and as the song once again shifts to a quieter movement to set up a solo section from Brooks, the hi-hat is bright, but not at all lacking in presence. That helps as the cacophony builds to the track’s apex – some rare double-kick and killer fills there amid Nick’s bass leading the groove – but it’s still the guitar that leaves the most lasting impression as it and some sampled throat singing close out. Atriarch don’t feel too concerned with “the ending” as an essential piece of the structure of their songs (this too helps the “take it as a whole” vibe of Forever the End), but “Shadows” satisfies on that level nonetheless, and as “Fracture” seems to start with a minimalist sparing of guitar and bass, most striking of all about it is the gradualness, the patience with which Atriarch execute the slow march to dominating heaviness.

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Last night, The Patient Mrs. and I went to see the new documentary God Bless Ozzy Osbourne at its New Jersey “special premiere event.” I had posted the press release on the news forum last week, but the short version is the movie was produced by Jack Osbourne, directed by Mike Fleiss and Mike Piscitelli, and promised “the most honest portrait” of his father (Ozzy, duh) through his years with Black Sabbath and as a mind-blowingly successful solo artist.

Now obviously, to tell the whole story would require a 17-hour Ken Burns special and then some — as Ozzy has simply led that much life — but though God Bless Ozzy Osbourne started out promising by charting his childhood and Black Sabbath‘s formation and first several records, the movie soon took a turn and abandoned that method of storytelling, jumping directly from a scene of current Ozzy watching and being disgusted by the video for “The Ultimate Sin” to the first season of the MTV reality show The Osbournes, which came some 16 years later, and shifting the focus from his sundry triumphs and inebriated antics to his getting clean and, as Sharon Osbourne put it in one of her many dime-store-therapist-lingo interview segments, “growing up.”

That’s fine. I went into God Bless Ozzy Osbourne thinking it was probably going to be a one-sided take on the man’s life, perhaps some effort to restore the dignity that the last decade has stripped him of (The Osbournes playing no small part in that, but by no means being the only misstep), and that’s precisely what it was. The fact is that he’s an entertaining interview — I’ve never been so fortunate myself — and that alone is worth watching. Tony Iommi appeared three or four times, and since the movie-current live footage sprinkled throughout had Zakk Wylde on guitar, I’m guessing it was from 2008-2009, right around the time Iommi and Osbourne were embroiled in that lawsuit over the rights to the name Black Sabbath. I guess they were lucky to get him at all, if that’s the case.

But even so, the “most honest portrait” it wasn’t. Scenes of Ozzy‘s kids from his first and second marriage saying he was a shitty father popped up and were gone with little examination or criticism, flashing back and forth to a current interview thread of Ozzy talking about it, and he still couldn’t remember what year his first daughter was born. In addition, in talking about his relationship with Sharon, they laid out the timing that it began roughly two years before he divorced his first wife, but never mentioned it as an affair, the two of them laughing instead that they were either in bed, on the bus, or on stage at that point in their lives. Har har. And when talking about their marriage, Ozzy says he wanted to start a family and that’s why he married Sharon, completely neglecting to mention his two prior children, who just a few minutes ago, were remembered as begging him not to leave them.

So really, it’s got its issues. Leaving the theater, I couldn’t help but wonder about the footage they left out. They didn’t even interview Zakk Wylde! Robert Trujillo, who played bass with Ozzy‘s band for a while, is never mentioned as having done so, instead showing up as a representative of Metallica — which is laughable — and since you apparently can’t say anything about Black Sabbath these days without Henry Rollins showing up, he was there. Tommy Lee told a few choice stories of touring with Ozzy in 1985, and Rudy Sarzo gave a heartfelt reminisce of the day Randy Rhoads died, but there was a lot they left out, both positive and negative. Here are the five things that most stuck out to me:

1. Master of Reality
After recounting the first two Sabbath albums, they mentioned 1971’s Master of Reality, showed the cover, and then brushed it aside to talk about Vol. 4. Not for nothing, but Master of Reality has been scientifically proven to be the greatest album of all time. They’ve done tests. In labs. Nothing is better. I suppose I shouldn’t complain, because Technical Ecstasy didn’t get mentioned at all. Seriously. Like it didn’t exist. No love for “Rock & Roll Doctor.”

2. Ozzfest
This was a real surprise, especially with the time spent giving the highlights of Ozzy‘s career. The festival of which he was the namesake? Nothing about it ever appeared in the movie.

3. Jake E. Lee
Nope. The guy basically saved Ozzy‘s post-Randy Rhoads career. And nothing.

4. The second, third and fourth seasons of The Osbournes
You’d imagine in watching God Bless Ozzy Osbourne that someone tricked the family into filming their lives for MTV. I think it’s Kelly at one point (might be Jack) who says something about people thinking it was funny, but it was really watching their family fall apart because of her father’s drinking and drug use. Meanwhile, they raked in shitloads of cash on that and kept it going for three years! If it’s that awful, even if you’re contractually obligated, pull out and take the lawsuit. Aimee Osbourne continues to look like a young woman who has her shit together.

5. Any music after 1986.
No No More Tears, no Ozzmosis. In the live footage, Ozzy sings some of “No More Tears,” but no studio album after Bark at the Moon is discussed in detail, and neither is the reunion with Black Sabbath in 1997, the retirement tour, or even the names of the people in the current (as of the movie) band. Mike Bordin is shown playing drums a few times, and Wylde makes regular appearances on stage, but it looks like the camera is actively trying to avoid Rob “Blasko” Nicholson.

I’m glad Ozzy Osbourne is sober. In God Bless Ozzy Osbourne, toward the end of the film, he is shown driving, talking about getting his driver’s license and wanting to have his shit together, feeling like he loves himself for the first time in his life. He speaks clearly and stands up straight and looks nothing like the bumbling man in the garden yelling, “Sharon!” This is all wonderful. I mean it. I also think that part of having that ability to truly be comfortable with who you are means accepting your failures as well as your successes. You could easily say he didn’t make the film, and he didn’t — Sharon is listed as executive producer and Jack is given the aforementioned producer credit — but there’s no question it’s a favorable take rather than a genuine examination of his career and life.

It’s one side of a story to which there are probably 50 other sides, and I’m sure you could make a 90-minute documentary about the first Sabbath album and it would seem too short, but if the project is too much to chew, then what’s accomplished by putting it out there anyway is a few entertaining stories, choice interviews, some live footage (the 1974 California Jam is always welcome), and nothing approaching the raw analysis promised. So it was.

Double-umlauted Finnish riffonauts The Fërtility Cült make their debut with Eschatology. The four-piece formed in 2008; their purported and noble mission to worship early Black Sabbath via the most potent means – i.e. getting stoned and riffing out. Three years later, their first full-length finds them more or less doing just that. Eschatology boasts five extended tracks — the shortest is second cut “Into the Sacred Grove” (7:38) – and a sound that matches its nudie-goddess-lady-meets-nebulous-gas-cloud artwork, the inclusion of saxophone helping at once tie The Fërtility Cült to the heyday of ‘70s prog (think the first two King Crimson records played at half speed) and distinguish them among their many fellow pilgrims. The extra dose of weird that Ryhänen adds with his horn goes a long way in setting a psychedelic tone for Eschatology, and though the term from which the album takes its name refers to knowing or theorizing the end of times, the album itself is far less apocalyptic than it is interstellar, where commonly the former relates to post-metal crush, The Fërtility Cült follow the vapor trails of Kimmel’s guitar through a star system of circular riffs and languid cosmic pacing.

Eschatology feels mostly instrumental, and rightly so given the expanse in these songs. Bassist Kaila proves able to add a reasonably diverse range of styles to the music with his singing, but it’s mostly an afterthought compared to the guitars, which set the tone and tempo immediately on opener “Cosmic Kaishakunin.” It’s actually one of the album’s more straightforward songs, with discernable verses and an instrumental chorus, but The Fërtility Cült aren’t trying to be mindful of structure as much as they’re using it to set up the jam, which is really the essential piece of the song. A bridge sets up a heavier part – Kaila’s low end well matched by Kimmel and drummer Mäkinen – and soon “Cosmic Kaishakunin,” finds Kimmel and Ryhänen pitting solo against solo, not quite the beheading promised in the title of the song (“kaishakunin” referring to the person charged with cutting someone’s head off as part of the Japanese ritualistic suicide, seppuku), but then, The Fërtility Cült’s specialty seems much more to be heady grooves than titles for them.

And a while lot of those grooves will be familiar to heads who’ve been around stoner rock for any amount of time, the Tampere outfit manage to put an individual mark on the nod-worthy “Into the Sacred Grove” (also a much more appropriate name). Again, Ryhänen is a big part of that, enacting improvised-feeling leads that give way to an underscoring rhythm for Kaila’s vocals, following his bass line. The addition of organ played by Antti Loponen further fills out “Into the Sacred Grove,” and a far-off spoken part leads to an extensively-wah’ed guitar solo that, in turn, gives itself over to the organ and sax to set up a return to the chorus. The Fërtility Cült may have started out wanting to pay homage to Black Sabbath, but they’re clearly doing more than that on Eschatology, as backing vocals sneak in to complement Kaila and the start-stop groove in the guitar begins to feel like the skeleton on which the flesh of the song is constructed, there’s clearly more at play here than just recognizable progressions. Still, with the overdriven fuzz of “Rheopolis” in both the bass and guitar, there’s no question that some listeners are going to hear The Fërtility Cült and be able to predict where the band is headed next.

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Can’t help but think maybe it’s time I institute Wino Wednesday as a regular feature on this site. Any thoughts? Jeebus knows he’s got enough of a back catalog that I could post something different every week for a year, and by then, he’s bound to have put out two or three new albums, prolific as he is.

Leave a comment and let me know what you think. While you’re mulling it over, check out this new clip for the Premonition 13 track “La Hechicera de la Jeringa” from the band’s Volcom debut, 13:

It’s always hard to speculate on what motivated a band to get together, but if the ultra-visceral EyeHateGod-style sludge of Witchden is anything to go by, the Minneapolis foursome are clearly upset at Joe Mauer‘s lack of homerun production at home over the last couple seasons. On the four uploaded tracks from the upcoming full-length, Consulting the Bones, Witchden vent their frustration amid dank riffage and the burnt-throat screams of aptly-named vocalist Jason “Herb Headie” Micah.

Micah is joined in Witchden by guitarist Adam Alexander Rivkin and bassist Andy ‘The Machine” Green, both of whom also handle backing vocals, but it’s drummer Jeff “Kong” Moen whose name is likeliest to be familiar. Moen is also a member of Sourvein in the band’s latest incarnation, and though there’s no word on how exactly he handles the commute from Minnesota to North Carolina or if in fact he’s still in Sourvein at all, he brings a characteristic crash and thud to Witchden tracks like “All Just a Lie” and the punishing “Ossuary.”

The album is listed as “coming soon,” which could mean two weeks or five months, but if the songs Witchden put on their ReverbNation page are anything to go by, they’re at least worth checking out. The band is also on Thee Facebooks, if that’s your druthers.

Virginian four-piece Freedom Hawk began to carve their name on the American riffy consciousness with 2009’s self-titled full-length, released by MeteorCity. That album earned generally favorable comparisons to Fu Manchu (from me as well), and on the follow-up, Holding On, the double-guitar unit maintain that smoothly-grooved sensibility, adding to it more memorable songwriting and a vocal approach from guitarist T.R. Morton that inherently reminds of Ozzy Osbourne’s early solo work in both cadence and tone. On first listen, that’s going to be what most stands out about Holding On. The production of Vince Burke (Beaten Back to Pure), who also helmed the self-titled, and the mix of Small Stone’s house engineer Benny Grotto of Mad Oak Studios push Morton’s vocals to the fore, and whether it’s “Faded” bringing to mind “Diary of a Madman” with its backing track later on the album or the earlier “Living for Days” copping a feel off “Bark at the Moon,” Freedom Hawk have a clarity of purpose in their use of the Ozzy influence that’s hard to ignore. It’s a twist on, “Well, if it was good enough for Sabbath,” and to Morton’s credit, he’s able to pull off the style better than anyone I’ve heard in the genre since Sheavy’s Steve Hennessey, and able to do it while also busting out a slew of quality riffs on which Holding On’s 13 tracks are based.

It’s a rock album in the tradition of rock albums. Nine of the 13 cuts are between four and five minutes long, and all of them – the exception being the 1:50 interlude “Zelda” – have a classic rock accessibility that will no doubt set many to bemoaning the state of rock radio. Morton and fellow guitarist Matt Cave work well off each other in terms of riffs and solos, and lead the way through straightforward heavy rock the diversity of which isn’t immediate, but which works nonetheless in a variety of moods, from the mid-paced stomp of opener “Thunder Foot” to the barn-burning “Living for Days” (the shortest non-interlude at 2:50), which follows immediately. The rhythm section of bassist Mark Cave (brother to Matt) and drummer Lenny Hines provides stability beneath the riffs, but the songs have an innate sense of structure as well, so it’s not like they’d fall off the rails otherwise. Not to say Hines and Mark don’t contribute – the tonal thickness of the latter is essential and Hines’ pulsating kick is like the floor on which the wah-infused boogie of “Bandito” plays out – just that the material on Holding On is built around solid verses and choruses, not meandering jams that require the bass and drums to ground them in order to establish some rapport with the listener.

With “Edge of Destiny,” the pace cuts somewhat from “Living for Days,” but Freedom Hawk’s ability to write the noted solid choruses comes to the fore. I’ve found in sitting with Holding On that the songs are not so much breaking new stylistic ground as they are digging into what’s already been done in order to create something memorable and distinct from it. The album is a grower in the sense that the more you listen to its tracks – and like a lot of Small Stone’s output over the last few years, it is very much a collection of tracks despite an accomplished flow between them – the more they leave an imprint on you, so that the grown-up punk of “Her Addiction” (a highlight for Hines in showing off his endurance) doesn’t stand itself out from the rest of Holding On until you’ve been through the album a few times, but ultimately proves worth the several listens it takes to get to that point. Morton, the Cave brothers and Hines have a lack of pretense that’s pervasive, and as “Zelda” – which is probably their most Sabbathian moment, with piano and guitar interplay that could’ve set up any number of Master of Reality’s heavy groovers – gives way to the album’s strongest movement in its midsection, Freedom Hawk have only just begun to show off what they can do within the parameters of their genre.

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