Beyul is the second Yakuza album to be released via Profound Lore. The continually underrated Chicago-based four-piece issued Of Seismic Consequence (review here) in 2010, and in that time, not much superficial has changed. Vocalist Bruce Lamont continues to lead the way with his warnings of the consequences of excess and his saxophone, guitarist Matt McClelland, bassist Ivan Cruz and drummer James Staffel doing a more than able job in keeping up and at times setting the course for Yakuza’s post-metallic shifts between ambient spaces and grinding aural crush. Once again, Sanford Parker helmed as producer as he has since sharing those duties with Matt Bayles on 2006’s Prosthetic Records debut, Samsara, and as with the ensuing Transmutations (2007, also Prosthetic) and Of Seismic Consequence, the pairing works well and to the advantage of the material. Hell, cellist Alison “Helen Money” Chesley even returns for a guest appearance on three of Beyul’s tracks, so if you were thinking their sixth album might be some radical departure from the successful blend of progressive metal, ambient hum and jazz textures Yakuza was able to accomplish on Of Seismic Consequence – to be blunt – it ain’t. What Beyul is, however, is not only a logical extension of the ideas the band presented the last time around, but a tighter performance, with burgeoning melodic breadth to complement the stylistic freedom that seems to have always been at their core. Of progress, they continue to make a rolling stone, but how they’re doing that has changed. Perhaps the most notable difference between Beyul and its predecessor – again, superficially – is its length, which has dropped from a heady 51:55 to a vinyl-ready 38:46, and the adoption of a structure as well that feels suited to the LP form, a split perceivable between the two longest tracks, highlight cut “Man is Machine” (8:29), and the following “Fire Temple and Beyond” (9:55). If there are plans for a vinyl release, I don’t know, but even on a CD, Beyul seems to be driving toward that form, the last four of the album’s total seven tracks pushing further into the blistering avant garde – by now long since familiar territory for Yakuza.

With the most diverse and engaging vocal performance of his career fronting the band, Lamont remains a focal point throughout Beyul, developing the range he began to establish last time out and reserving a harsher approach for the penultimate thrasher “Species” (1:26), the mounting chaos of which serves as a release for much of the tension the album has built to that point. Earlier tracks like “On the Last Day” or the opener “Oil and Water” meld post-metal tribal-style rhythms with varying degrees of memorability in songwriting. Rabidly percussed, “Oil and Water” nonetheless has a chorus, and not a weak one, but coupled with the intensity of the initial churn, the two competing sides feel almost like the title, and even when they offer some release for the tension around 1:45, and screaming lead guitars pave the way for effective echoing vocals, the insistent thud is shortly to resume. If Yakuza had meant to write a catchy pop song, it might be an issue, but to date, that’s never been their aim. The thrashing riff they seem to be ending with gives way to one last chorus, and “On the Last Day” continues the push into maelstrom, offsetting with sax-led jazz ambience. Chesley guests here, as on “Man is Machine” and “Fire Temple and Beyond,” which follow in succession, and Angela Mullenhour and Tim Remus also contribute to “On the Last Day,” resulting in a kind of orchestral experimentation that’s met with multiple layers of vocals. In the heavier parts – because, despite effective contrast, that’s what they are – the line “Deny it all” is a sustained standout from Lamont, and that sets up the expectation for more of a chorus, which “Man is Machine” delivers after an initial plod and washes of low end wipe the slate clean from the pummeling opening duo. For guest spots, Mars Williams and Dave Rempis join Chesley and Mullenhour, and of course Lamont, McClelland, Cruz and Staffel as well, on “Man is Machine,” giving the song even more of a sense of culmination. Nonetheless, it’s the song that stands itself out, the repetition of “The body distorting the mind” following a faster cadence that reminds curiously of early ‘90s Primus before they cycle back into the lumbering verse.

Read more »

For the last couple months, we’ve followed the unfolding tale of Doommantia.com’s founder, Ed Barnard, who suffered a heart attack at the end of July and has since been left homeless. Donations have been taken over at their site, and hopefully wherever you are or whatever your situation, you’ve had a chance to give and support Ed in these tough times. On Oct. 13, the Doommantia Bash benefit show was held in his honor and by all accounts I’ve seen, that was a success, but there’s more to be done.

Word went out yesterday of the Doommantia Vol. 1 digital compilation being available. Put together and organized by the band Compel, it’s $7 on Bandcamp and there are an astounding 39 bands included. Ed‘s special lady, Sally Doomvixen, posted the news last night that Ed was back in the hospital overnight with chest pains again, and though the situation doesn’t seem as serious as last time, the bills are no less devastating.

So you haven’t taken time yet to help out Ed Barnard, I once more urge you to do so, and this time, you get over four hours’ worth of music in return from great bands. More info follows, courtesy of Doommantia:

The DOOMMANTIA Benefit Compilation Has Arrived, 39 Tracks, Over 4 Hours For Only $7…

The first ever Doommantia.Com Compilation is now available for download for only $7 from BANDCAMP. Immediate download of no less than 39 tracks of doomy goodness, over 4 hours long. Bands featured are Blackwolfgoat, At Devil Dirt, Low Gravity, Ichabod, Fister, Undersmile, Compel, Iron Man, Wizard’s Beard, Oceans Rainbow, Beelzefuzz, Conan, Lazarus Complex, Spyderbone, Order Of The Owl, Dope Flood, War Injun, Heathen Bastard, Halmos, Kriz, Bongripper, Demonaut, In The Company Of Serpents, Switchblade Jesus, Pale Divine, When The Deadbolt Breaks, Bastards Of The Skies, Gorgantherron, Screaming Mad Dee and Alex Vanderzeeuw, Chowder, War Iron, Hollow Leg, Crawl, Desolation, Ketea, Sludgethrone, Vulture, Wolfpussy and The Departure. That is some bang for your buck!!!

All proceeds go to the Ed Barnard homeless fund so it is a very worthy cause. Thanks to all the bands involved and to Tim Davis who worked so hard putting all of this together. Head to BANDCAMP now to get your download.

Captured on Church of Misery‘s first-ever US tour in their 17-year history, the footage below of Japan’s most lethal doomers comes from June 2 at the Scion Rock Fest in Tampa, Florida. The band, who’d already set a serial pace across Europe in the spring, hitting both Desertfest London and Roadburn, slammed into the States for a successful run, thrilling longtime fans who’d never gotten the chance to experience the band’s Sabbathian loyalism live and single-handedly raising the nation’s t-shirt GDP by no less than 30 percent.

The song “El Padrino” was the leadoff track on Church of Misery‘s last album, 2009’s Houses of the Unholy, and like the vast majority of their material (the portion that’s not dedicated to covers of heavy ’70s legends and/or Saint Vitus), it’s about a serial killer. That’s what they do. This time, it’s Adolfo Constanzo, a Cuban-American drug dealer, cult leader and mass murderer in Mexico City in the 1980s. It’s kind of like the guy was doing Church of Misery a solid just by existing.

Anyway, they put his story to good use, as you can see in the footage of “El Padrino” below:

Church of Misery, “El Padrino” at Scion Rock Fest 2012

At the fest, founding bassist Tatsu Mikami and Australian guitarist Tom Sutton — who joined in 2006 and was replaced in the band’s always tumultuous lineup by Ikuma Kawabe (ex-Dhidalah) following the US tour — sat down for an interview and discussed their roots, the nonexistent doom scene in Japan and how it’s kept them original, and much more.

Dig it:

Church of Misery, Interview at Scion Rock Fest 2012

Special thanks to Scion A/V Metal for allowing me to premiere this footage. Stay tuned for more to come.

What do you say when staring into the face of the greatest album of all time? Fuck if I know.

For months, I’ve been kicking around the idea of starting a periodic feature highlighting the best and most influential albums in heavy rock, stoner rock, doom, whatever — a Canon of Heavy. All along I’ve known that, though I didn’t want it to be like a top-10 or to go by number or date or any other particular order, the first inductee into said canon would have to be Black Sabbath‘s 1971 masterpiece, Master of Reality. The rest of the time since has been trying to figure out what the hell to say about it.

Because while endless words have been written in its praise and its singular influence has bled into enough bands and records to make Helen of Troy’s thousand ships look paltry, the basic fact of the matter is that Master of Reality was and is perfect, and that’s all the explanation it really needs.

No doubt I could stop right there and an entire section of the population who might see this post could only nod in agreement — “Yup.” — but it would be half-assed, and frankly, it’ll be more fun this way. Here are just a few of my reasons why it had to be Geezer Butler , Tony Iommi, Bill Ward and Ozzy Osbourne, and why Master of Reality had to be the first Canon of Heavy inclusion.

Is it the Best Album Ever?

Yeah, pretty much. Opinions vary and we can go back and forth forever about this or that record, what’s better about what, but when it comes down to it, Master of Reality really is flawless. From the coughs that open “Sweet Leaf” to the last chord that closes “Into the Void,” there isn’t a moment misspent. Sure, you have interludes “Embryo” and “Orchid” and the whispered section after “Children of the Grave,” but even these are perfectly suited to their purpose, no longer than they need to be to bridge the gap to and from the song before into the next track while adding to the atmosphere.

And each of its main tracks was a defining moment. “Sweet Leaf,” “After Forever,” “Children of the Grave,” “Lord of this World,” “Solitude” and “Into the Void” — you could look at any one of those songs and mark out its influence, whether it’s “Sweet Leaf” codifying what decades later would in no small part define stoner rock or  “After Forever” offering the earliest template for Christian metal — but more importantly to the idea of Master of Reality as a whole is how well they work with each other, driving you forward into the culmination of “Into the Void,” which comes as the final answer to successive exclamations of “this is the heaviest thing ever,” “no, this is the heaviest thing ever!” No matter how many times I hear Master of Reality, it never loses its power. One does not listen to it so much as one is brought into its countenance.

It was The Birth of The Heavy — and though it’s sold over two million copies since, it remains an underground treasure. You listen to Master of Reality and it’s not like putting on anything else, any other big release. The album connects on an individual level, and not just in a handshake-from-a-famous-person kind of way. Its thickened, sludgy lumber is the stuff of legend, but each legend is a personal, human story as well.

Third Time Around

We all know the cliche about thirds, so I’ll spare you that, but arriving in July 1971, Master of Reality came not even a full year after Black Sabbath‘s landmark second album, Paranoid and only 17 months after their self-titled debut, which is widely regarded as the moment that hard rock became heavy metal. Nonetheless, the growth the band underwent in that time — they toured as well, astoundingly — is stunning, and where Black Sabbath was formative and raw and Paranoid was chaotic and bitter, the third album refined all of Sabbath‘s ideas to that point into a drug-fueled lurch that they’d never again match. In their rush to get the next LP out and maintain their chart position, they wrote the single best collection of songs heavy music has ever known.

They were, by their own admission, drugged out of their minds at the time. And yet, their songwriting would never be in this space again. Black Sabbath and Paranoid are both truly great albums, and I don’t doubt that in time they’ll be included here as well, but the reason it’s Master of Reality first is because Master of Reality marks that crucial moment where “heavy” became more than just a mindset and truly manifested itself sonically in Iommi‘s guitar and Butler‘s bass, where the riffs came to ultimate prominence, and where the band hit the intersection of knowing what kind of music they wanted to be making without over-thinking their processes. The bassline of “After Forever,” the unmitigated stomp of “Lord of this World,” the percussive thrust of “Children of the Grave” — how much time did they actually spend on these songs? Hours?

With Master of Reality, Sabbath found the balance sound-wise they’d never be able to find in a real life filled with narcotic excess and personal drama. Further, it’s the most efficient album they ever made. By the time they’d record Vol. 4 in May 1972, that moment had simply passed, and while they were by no means done and there was still plenty more for them to say in their original incarnation, Master of Reality was as crucial as they ever got.

“Solitude”

There’s ongoing debate about whether it’s even Osbourne singing or Ward, but what’s special about the penultimate cut on the album is that it’s no less heavy than anything around it for its lack of assault. Sure, “Black Sabbath” from the same album was a creeper and “Planet Caravan” is a better execution of psychedelia, but “Solitude” is among the purest executions of doom ever recorded. You’re not journeying through space so much as through the depths of your own wretchedness, and long gone are tales of mysterious demons at the foot of your bed. All that’s left is yourself and the miserable bastard you’ve become:

My name it means nothing, my fortune means less
My future is shrouded in dark wilderness
Sunshine is far away, clouds linger on
Everything I possessed, now they are gone

Even “Paranoid,” which one could argue covered some of the same depressive lyrical ground, didn’t dare unmask itself to such an extent, and when they tried again to cover similar ground on “Changes” from Vol. 4, the result was a laughable farce of emotionality. The minimalist blues of “Solitude” is unmatched in the Sabbath catalog, which even elsewhere offers righteous judgment (“Lord of this World”) and brazen defiance (“Children of the Grave”), but never again the same kind of peculiar ambience and first-person exploration of damaged psyche. It is beautiful and doomed in like measure, and the lead-in it provides the introductory and signature riff of “Into the Void” gives both songs a context emblematic of the strength of the album as a whole work.

The Legacy

Goes without saying, again. Go grab a CD or record off your shelf of any even moderately heavy variety, and there’s a good chance that whether or not the band knows it, there’s some aspect of Master of Reality to be found therein. The album is elemental in the actual, scientific sense — providing the pieces through which compounds can be made. A lot of Black Sabbath from this period is like that. With Master of Reality though, this was the record the first two were driving toward and the record that the remaining five released by the original lineup were coming from.

In terms of a Canon of Heavy, Blue Cheer and Hendrix were heavy before it, and others like Budgie, Atomic Rooster, Deep Purple and Led Zeppelin ran concurrent, but none could stand in line with its crushing weight or sheer sonic mass. And none have since, Sabbath included. One need only name a band from either the heavy rock, doom or sludge genres to find someone who’s tried, pivotal or obscure, but Master of Reality stands unto itself, carved in stone. Time has not diminished it, and I think if time tried, the record would simply kick its ass, which is the same treatment it has dealt out to everything else in its path for the last 41 years.

Like I said: perfect.

It’s a pretty ballsy move after 17 years in the game to leave the comforts of love and life behind and hit the road full-time, but if Orange Goblin have ever been anything, it’s ballsy. The London-based four-piece just got off the road with Down, and if the photo above from this year’s Bloodstock festival didn’t tip you off, their momentum has never been higher.Well fucking earned.

Frontman and occasional Obelisk contributor Ben Ward posted the following tour dates and info on his Thee Facebooks this morning, and it seemed the least I could do to share. They’ll hit the road starting in January on their first headlining run through the UK.

Dig it:

I’ve been banging on for years that Orange Goblin fans are the best in the world. Now it’s time to prove me right people, please go out and buy your tickets and let’s sell out this first tour as a full-time band. Get all your mates and mates, mates to buy them as well! That would rule!

All venues are on sale now except Liverpool, which goes on sale at 9am on Friday!

Within the next couple of weeks we will also be announcing dates in Ireland, the USA and Canada, then a full European touring and festival schedule will be announced in 2013.

I’m sure that in your lifetime you’ve heard a line so catchy that you wanted to make a whole song out of it. Well, Electric Wizard have too. The only difference is they actually wrote the song with the catchy line in the first place as well. So what you get with “Legalise Drugs & Murder” is some of the most stripped down Electric Wizard to date, the seminal UK doomers referencing themselves lyrically — the title being taken from a verse in “The Chosen Few” from 2007’s landmark Witchcult Today full-length — even as they continue to reference a slew of horror flicks, Sabbath, and, of course, the devil.

The Dorset mainstays released “Legalise Drugs & Murder” as a 7″ single earlier this year through Rise Above, coupled with the track “Murder & Madness.” Decibel magazine included a new 2012 demo of the track “Satyr IX,” which originally appeared on 2010’s Black Masses. And ever ones for outdoing themselves, the Jus Oborn-led troupe (of which I believe the picture above is outdated in terms of rhythm section) culled together those three songs as side A of a cassette EP called, of course, Legalise Drugs & Murder, that’s included exclusively with the Oct. 2012 issue of Terrorizer, the cover story of which — well look at that — also just happens to be on Electric Wizard.

So it’s an exclusive, limited Electric Wizard tape, that they’ve released to go with this one issue of Terrorizer and then it’s gone, off into catalog completist obscurity. Should go without saying I was dying to get my hands on one. I put word out on Thee Facebooks that if any kind soul in the UK could help me out, I’d gladly pay for the mag, shipping, etc., and it wasn’t five minutes before a hero emerged. Huge thanks go out to Phil Steventon of Stafford for taking it upon himself to send me a copy of the mag and the tape. It’s been kicking ass all over the tape  players in my car and office since.

The song itself emphasizes the best parts of Wizard‘s do-a-lot-with-a-little ethic, cycling its title line as a chorus a chant while peppering in a few verses for good measure and rounding out with hypnotic repetition of the line “children of the grave.” I had thought maybe they’d include a “Satan’s slaves” to complement, since that’s how it worked in “The Chosen Few,” but they don’t even go that far, just letting the sleepy groove and malevolent fuzz carry the song out. “Satyr IX” is a grittier version of the original and “Murder & Madness” is five and a half minutes of horror atmospherics, nodding low end and whispering creepiness — a decent setup for the perversions that ensue on side B.

One might recognize “Patterns of Evil” from Black Masses, but not by much. The remix Electric Wizard — Oborn is credited as producer/mixer, though guitarist Liz Buckingham shares songwriting credit — have given the song has made it altogether rougher-sounding than it was on the album, and if they weren’t pleased with the original version, I can only wonder what that might mean for the sound of their next record, if they’re thinking that far yet. “Lucifer (We’ve Gone too Far)” is darkly psychedelic as was “Murder & Madness,” though more manic, with repetitive incantations of either one portion of its title or the other amid samples and a bizarre rush, and though the closer “Our Witchcult Grows…” is no less referential than the track “Legalise Drugs & Murder,” the song itself actually has little in common with the Witchcult Today title-cut from which it’s derived.

Instead, they close out the Legalise Drugs & Murder tape with strange, effects-laden chanting. It might be filler, but if so, it’s effective on the level of mood, keeping the cult horror vibe at the fore to end of an already strange listen. If this tape is any indication of where Electric Wizard are headed with their next full-length, then things could be taking a turn for the weird any minute now. Of course there’s no sure guarantee that it is or isn’t a sign of their direction overall, but it’s fun to speculate, and Legalise Drugs & Murder may just end up as a blip on the band’s discography, but it’s a cool listen and something I was glad to get while the getting was good.

The year has begun to wind down, at least in terms of Wino releases, and of the several Wino-inclusive records 2012 brought along with it, I think it’s safe to say that the Wino & Conny Ochs, Heavy Kingdom, collaboration debut was the surprise of the bunch. They’re an odd pairing to look at them on stage, but Ochs‘ singer-songwriter cooing and Wino‘s rougher, road-weary edge made a striking combination, and what bleeds through even on the record is the impression that they really enjoy playing together.

That came across on the tour as well. I was fortunate enough to get to see them at the St. Vitus bar in Brooklyn on Aug. 22 (review here), and it was a refreshing performance in a way few are. After the apparent and untimely dissolution of the dual-guitar project Premonition 13, who impressed in their own gig at that venue as well, to find Wino so invested in another project, especially one so different from the last, was encouraging and indicative of not just his creative breadth, but his oft-tested resolve to not quit making music. And to have Ochs there (he’s the one in the tight pants) acting as the guiding hand into the strange realm of folk construction just made the experience sweeter.

You’ll find the title-track to Heavy Kingdom below, coupled with the Savoy Brown cover “Hellbound Train,” taken from the 1972 album of the same name. Special thanks to Liz Ciavarella-Brenner for filming.

Please enjoy and have a happy Wino Wednesday:

Got home from work last night and found a big ol’ box of Clamfight CDs. It was enough to have made the workday worthwhile.

They’re geeerjus, as you can see in the totally natural, not-at-all-arranged picture above. I’m always stoked on everything The Maple Forum puts out, but Clamfight are friends going back years and years. We played shows together when they were barely a band, and I’ve only become more of a fan as they’ve grown into the unwieldy riff ‘n’ thrash monster they are now. I vs. the Glacier is going to stomp your face.

It’s a four-panel digipak. Here’s the full outside cover, with firehorses and scantily :

Here’s the inside cover with the disc:

And here’s a closer look at the cover:

We’re eying a January release. Stay tuned for pre-order info. Of course, the band might also have some copies with them on the upcoming Clamfight, Kings Destroy and Black Pyramid “We vs. the Weekender” tour, about which you can find more details here or here.