Like many in the current crop of Swedish heavy bands, Stockholm-based Amaxa owe much of what they do directly to post-Sabbath early ’70s riffing, bands less given to outwardly stonerized lyrics or a focus on what would become doom. Organ shows up on their self-titled, self-released debut LP, but even when it picks up, “Shooting Star” is more psychedelic and thicker toned than you’d call what Deep Purple were doing at the time. They cite Mountain specifically and Swede-prog progenitors Kebnekajse, and I’m no one to argue, but it’s impossible to ignore the trailblazing bands like Graveyard, Witchcrat and Burning Saviours have done over the course of the last decade as well. Either way you look at it, Amaxa are playing off ideas that will be readily familiar to experienced listeners within the genre.

The band is comprised of guitarist Peter Pedersen, bassist Anders Broström, vocalist/organist Erik Broström and drummer Jimmy Halvarsson, and much of what might distinguish them among their peers in Sweden’s crowded retro set lies in the organ and how it’s used to play up prevailing psychedelics that come through alongside blues rock riffing and palpable tonal warmth while the production balances modern techniques and the already-stated retro aesthetic. Longest cut “Welcome in Sanity” meters out darker stomp, but even so keeps the pace moving centered around an undulating bassline from Anders and Jimmy‘s tense ride cymbal, both of which open wide in the chorus to the 6:19 track, which in turn has room in its second half for a sort of mini-freakout shuffle. At very least, Amaxa are schooled in the tenets of the sound they’re presenting on their first album.

Killer low-end is a regular feature throughout Amaxa‘s Amaxa, but “The Heartache of Philip Marlowe” belongs to Peter‘s guitar and to Jimmy‘s cowbell. Tonally, it’s some of the best fuzz Amaxa have on offer, and put to a start-stop groove in the verse that Erik matches in his vocals. The album ends with fitting swirl and some heretofore unheard melodic complexity, hinting of things to come maybe on future releases, and if nothing else, the fact that they self-released it and pressed to vinyl bodes well for a sense of professionalism to grow. Because apparently I have a Soundcloud account now and because Amaxa (also on Thee Facebooks here) posted the tracks there, here’s the full record:

Formed in 2011, the German five-piece Carrion Mother made their debut this fall with the self-released rumble of Koronis, a full-length demo recorded in their rehearsal space — obviously they’ve got one of those pro-type setups, since the three extended tracks sound better than a lot of records I get around here — in Regensburg. “Earth,” “Giver of Warmth,” and “Venus, Goddess” are embroiled in post-metal tonal crush and doomly lumber, driven by the dual guitars of Raffael D. and Julius K. and the varied screams and clean vocals of Aris S., who affects melodies and rhythmic shouts with apparent ease and knows when to step back and let the ambience hold sway.

And as one might expect for three tracks and a total 48:47, there’s no shortage of ambience. Carrion Mother aren’t as directly indebted to the Neurosis school of riffing, but one can hear a bit of Cult of Luna or maybe even some of Burst‘s thinking-man’s post-hardcore in the latter stretches of “Earth.” It’s largely the guitars responsible for setting the mood, while Fabian B.‘s bass and Joe W.‘s drums lock into complex but still flowing grooves behind. This frees up Raffael and Julius to meander as they will, and Aris to come and go in the manner of Rosetta‘s Mike Armine, able to both convey emotion and scream his lungs out when the song calls for it.

Each of the three tracks starts out soft before unveiling its full brunt, and as the longest, the opener would seem to show the most patience, but once it gets going — just before three minutes in — the intensity of riffing in “Venus, Goddess” more than makes up for any wanting ease in the transition. They build a tower out of that riff, Aris‘ vocals resting further back to let the unified chug come to the fore, and even when they break into the chorus, they hold onto the momentum propelling them forward. “Venus, Goddess” turns what seems like a bridge into a seven minute groove, adding on leads, slowdowns and rhythmic insistence to the core figure only to cap their debut outing with final comedown noodling, symmetrical to the start of each song, but hardly as adrenaline-inducing as the rush they hone at their most active.

Still, especially for a first release and a band who’s been around for a year, Carrion Mother‘s Koronis shows a more than firm grip on aesthetic and sets them up with any number of avenues for growth their next time out. At very least, it’s certainly worth a listen to the Bandcamp stream and all the instant gratification that might provide:

With a potent and natural-sounding mixture of desert groove and classic rock jangle, the mostly-German four-piece Iguana debuted earlier this year with Get the City Love You, a 10-track LP steeped in love of ’90s melodicism and post-Queens of the Stone Age lumber. That influence shows up particularly on cuts like “Vague as a Mirage” and “Get the City Love You,” which have some of the style of low-end push that made British outfit Crystal Head‘s first album so engaging earlier this year, but it’s only a sliver of the whole breadth of Iguana‘s work. Even the title-track isn’t so limited, winding up in a start-stop that reminds of Primus‘ “Wynona’s Big Brown Beaver” as well as the aforementioned desert thud.

Helping any grunge comparison you might want to make, vocalist Alexander Lörinczy (also guitar) boasts elements of classic Chris Cornell in his style, and though it’s an easy comparison to make, that winds up adding to the individuality of Iguana, since the music surrounding moves from the dreamy laid-back psych of “Morning Eve” to the Easternisms of “Madinat al Yasmin,” the early central figure of which I’d swear I’ve come across before either from Master Musicians of Bukkake or in one of Siena Root‘s endearing raags. “Madinat al Yasmin” moves into vaguely-doomed stomp, with Alexander May‘s bass featuring heavily in the mix alongside psychedelic leads and insistent riffing from Lörinczy and guitarist Thomas May. Even with two guitars, though, Get the City Love You doesn’t feel thicker than it should, keeping some space in the recording from the start of opener “New Moon Flyby,” which barely hints at the stylistic complexity to come, despite being a solid execution of Alice in Chains-style harmonizing.

There’s a lot to soak in on the 48-minute album, and after the eight-minute “Fukushima 50″ — which boasts a circuitous rhythm that would make Fatso Jetson proud — the ensuing “Über-Idolizer” has a difficult task in distinguishing itself through a slower tempo. Nonetheless, Lörinczy‘s easy moves into and out of falsetto and drummer Robert Meier‘s bluesy kick drum make the track more than an afterthought, and a layered chorus in the penultimate “Down on You” ensure that the momentum carries into understated closer “Freshly Tranquilized,” which caps the promising debut with a warm instrumental build, no more or less sweetly-toned than anything Iguana has had on offer prior.

Get the City Love You was released in June on Sweet Home Records. Were it not for the fact that the two bands have already toured together, and so he’d obviously be aware of them, I might have sent their stuff on to Christian Peters from Samsara Blues Experiment for consideration of Iguana as a fit on his Electric Magic imprint. In any case, Iguana – who also had an EP out in 2008 — give themselves a solid foundation creatively here from which to cohere and build their next time out, and show a noteworthy range in their songwriting in the meantime.

They’re all over the internets — be it Thee Facebooks, Spotify, SoundCloud, their own site, iTunes, etc. — but I thought the video for “Morning Eve” from the album would be a good first impression for anyone not yet introduced. And wouldn’t you know it you can put videos on the internet now? What’s next, electronic mail?

Hope you dig it:

Lest you judge them by their overly-braided press shot, Ojai, California-based four-or-five-piece Pleasure make an immediate positive impression with unretrofied heavy ’70s muscle, freewheeling Soundgardenisms, desert-heavy jams and a sense that any of the four tracks on their debut For Your Listening… EP can go anywhere at any time. Easy grooves and chunky riffing meet with rhythmic nuance, echoing vocal soul and a richness of approach that goes beyond the individual influences from which they draw all seem to come around to the same point: Pleasure are on the right track and they got there awfully fast.

Comprised of four tracks, all topping six minutes and each named for its number in the running order, For Your Listening… starts chatting up your special lady almost immediately with “1,” getting underway with a classic groove one might expect from Sweden before Southern California, and soon enough the vocals show likewise Graveyard-style vigilance, though the guitars post-chorus are hookier and the vocals more assured and swaggering. Changes throughout the tracks, from loud to soft, builds to peaks, are pulled off with ease and the whole thing winds up with a distinctly Californian flow despite culling inspiration from a range of classic outfits, Sabbath being pivotal but by no means principle by the time “3″ hits its lead-driven payoff.

Both Wes Wilson and Tony Melino did a stint on guitar in Annihilation Time — Pleasure is them plus Zach Doiron, Taylor Hellewell and Chris Everett — and the band continues to have an affiliation with Annihilation Time offshoot Lecherous Gaze to the point of playing a show together this Friday, Dec. 14 at Carpenteria & Linden Pub in Carpenteria, CA (more on that here), but sonically there’s little in common, as Pleasure hit on natural classic rock with engaging and accessible songwriting and an exciting but mostly unpunked energy. They formed in 2012 and For Your Listening… is their first release (though there are some other jams posted that are worth checking out), but hopefully it’s not too long before Pleasure check in with another installment, because the impression they make with these tracks goes beyond being a pleasant surprise and right into “I want to hear more of this right now.”

Pleasure are on Thee Facebooks here. Check out For Your Listening… on the player below, courtesy of their Bandcamp:

Aptly-titled and steeped in classic metal and punk, the First EP debut from Philly heavy bashers No Stayer is only about 12 minutes long, but that’s enough to give an indication of the sometimes bizarre range of influence from which they’re working. Solos rip in crisp, classic fashion and the central riff of A side “Undesired” is right out of the Judas Priest playbook of metallic swagger, but Pro-Pain-esque barks and gang vocals top the would-be hook of the chorus and as brash as they are, the trio have a pervasive sense of professionalism throughout both that track and “Forest by the Mountain,” which follows on side B.

That extends to the packaging of the 7″ as well, which comes in a high-quality matte cardboard sleeve with a thick-paper lyric sheet, also two-sided to mirror the vinyl itself. “Undesired” and “Forest by the Mountain” likewise show varied personalities — the latter’s speed-gallop riffing seems to come more from the early (of course) Metallica school of alcoholic frenzy, and while the vocals could very well wind up showing a Motörhead influence in the rhythm, they’re not quite there yet and so stay unipolar in their harsh throatiness. No Stayer claim a punk influence, and “Undesired” shows it more than “Forest by the Mountain,” but neither cut is out of place next to the other, and the B side culminates with a rushing solo and furious metallic drumming before returning to the verse/chorus progression.

As advertised, First EP is a first EP, but No Stayer have been around since 2009, and “Undesired” and “Forest by the Mountain” sound like they’ve been worked over and honed, either in a practice space or a live setting. The production value — tracks were recorded at Permanent Hearing Damage by Steve Roche this past summer — also greatly helps the sense of professionalism that comes through, and the packaging for the physical 7″ release only confirms it. They may just be starting out in terms of recording, but if Kvelertak were coming through, I’d go seeNo Stayeropen any night of the week, and likely spill some beer on myself in the process. Thrash on, gentlemen. Looking forward to more.

Here’s “Undesired” and “Forest by the Mountain” from the No Stayer Bandcamp page:

From the gong and the very first guitar jangles and cymbal washes of “Fists of Stone,” the opening cut on Fortress of Narzod‘s debut EP, Power in the Hands of Fools (on Chief Designer Records), I thought for sure the three-track release was going to be a wash of Hawkwind space rock as filtered through Monster Magnet‘s ’90s-style swagger. Turns out the Aussie trio had other plans in mind, as “Fists of Stone” quickly thickens up its riffing as guitarist Andrew Pickering kicks into a more distorted tone and both bassist Jim Lewis (also vocals) and drummer Scott Pridham are keen to match pace.

Heavy psych vibes persist, though, and the crux of Power in the Hands of Fools seems to stem from playing one side off the other. “Fists of Stone,” “(Now) There’s No Way Out” and the longer closer “Mighty Isis” offer solid riff-led groove, but there’s an impulse at work here too that comes from jamming, and particularly in Lewis‘ tone, one gets a sense that Fortress of Narzod could ride out a part for a solid eight to 10 minutes if they felt like it. They don’t come close, even on “Mighty Isis,” which tops seven, but flourishes like video game-style “space organ” and a mid-’60s psych guitar line to the centerpiece “(Now) There’s No Way Out” speak to ideas beyond those of simplistic stonerisms. Lewis‘ vocals come in more blown out but still well balanced in the mix in classic punk fashion, and when he delivers the titular line as the chorus, the effect isn’t catchy — that is, it’s not an over-the-top hook — so much as memorable.

“(Now) There’s No Way Out” also “gets heavy” in the sense of stomping into thicker fuzz in its second half, but even then, Lewis keeps his vocals consistent despite the louder guitars and drums from Pickering and Pridham and the effect is almost like the song is swallowing its own chorus. Pickering layers in a plotted but effective solo and Pridham punctuates Lewis‘ runs with snare pop and straightforward cymbal work that nonetheless does much to fill the sound before the bluesy solo is cut short and Lewis opens “Mighty Isis” with a bassline immediately grooving over cascading feedback and soon alternating lumber and grungy verse progressions.

The extra runtime between “Mighty Isis” and “Fists of Stone” or “(Now) There’s No Way Out” — which run 4:13 and 4:33, respectively — can be attributed to jamming out in the middle and at the end of the song. Pickering snakes through another impressive solo at the halfway point that leads back to the verse and soon enough, Fortress of Narzod are making good on that whole “ride a part out for a long time” thing, Lewis’ bassline being the force tying the pieces together while Pridham gives it another go on the gong before hitting into a fill that relaunches the riff and leads the way out of the song and the EP as a whole, the guitars offering last-minute slow wah swirl and crunchy fuzz in kind as the progression fades perhaps just a little too quickly.

My longstanding affection for Aussie heavy taken into account, Fortress of Narzod‘s debut probably doesn’t offer much that will honestly catch experienced listeners off guard, but Lewis, Pridham and Pickering give a solid showing of genre on Power in the Hands of Fools and enough of an indication of their style to make me curious to see where their blend of stoner and psych might lead and if they continue to expand on the nascent affinity for extra touches like the gong, the organ, 12-string acoustic, etc. Here’s a video for “(Now) There’s No Way Out” to see if you don’t agree:

Fortress of Narzod on Thee Facebooks

Fortress of Narzod’s website

Melting together dreamy spacedelic explorations with heavy riffing and bouts of all-out extremity, Pittsburgh’s own Supervoid make their self-released debut via the two-tracker EP, Endless Planets. There are those who decry the use of harsh vocals in stonerly contexts. I’ve never been one of them. Vocalist Brian flows naturally between clean singing and newer-school metallic sludge growls, and where he uses either the choice works to the songs’ favor.

“Arcane Groves,” at just under 10 minutes, has more room to space out, and “Wake of the Smoke Jumper” is more straightforward in its post-Mastodon chug, but both tracks give a solid first showing from the band, whose heaviness arrives in distorted bursts through the two guitars of Joe and Dave, John‘s bass and the precise timekeeping of Greg‘s drums. There are touches of post-metal jangle in their tones, but Endless Planets feels altogether meaner and straightforward than most of what that genre designation implies, and the classic rock leads in the second half of “Wake of the Smoke Jumper” are coming from someplace else entirely.

The songs were recorded and mixed by Dave Hidek at Treelady Studios and the production is thick and professional, giving a basic idea of the sound Supervoid are hitting on and showing some potential for what they might do with it going forward. Endless Planets is apparently available on CD and the band has made it a name-your-price download at the Supervoid Bandcamp as well. Here’s the stream, courtesy of that page:

Five dudes with burl enough for seven, UK-based riffloaders Mage make their full-length debut with Black Sands, a record that serves as their diploma earned by graduating from the Down/Orange Goblin school of dudely thrust. Tones are thick, songs are straightforward, drinks are drunk, heads are smashed and tasty basslines abound across the 10-track outing, which is strong in presence and large in sound. They seem to know they’re not fucking with the formula, but they also seem to know which parts of it they want to make their own.

Elements of thrash and show up in “Degenerate” and opener “Cosmic Cruiser X” and the later “Surfing Temporal Tides” speak at least to a lyrical affinity for that which rocks and is stoner, but the mood remains relatively consistent throughout the album, which is a well-written collection of songs obviously geared toward a live setting, where they can be consumed with both proper volume and inebriation. Mage — good luck finding them on the Googles — got together late in 2010 and released a self-titled EP in Spring 2011, so Black Sands is the result of some relatively quick work, but there’s a sense of songwriting experience at work and so ideas are stated clearly and with suitable force.

Vocalist Tom fits the tracks well with a semi-melodic gruffness, matching the two guitars of Woody and Ben while Mark drops low end righteousness and Andy keeps the groove steady on drums, shifting with seeming ease on quick tempo changes like those of “Drowning Doom.” Closer “Hulk Out” is faster in its intro and effective in its starts and stops, but undone by what feels like a hackneyed lyrical reference and lines like, “You’ve never seen anger like this before,” though that kind of chest-beating is nothing new for the genre and at 2:45, it’s also the shortest track on the album — over before you can look up “hulking out” on the Urban Dictionary.

Mage have made the record available in its entirety on their Bandcamp. The band is on Thee Facebooks here, and the album can be purchased through Witch Hunter Records as well. Because we live in a bright an wondrous future, here’s the full stream:

They may share the album title Into the Sun with Texan rockers Dixie Witch, but Gothenburg-based four-piece Molior Superum are nothing if not of their environment. The youngins have their hearts in the right place, though, blending the ’70s grooves for which their native Sweden has developed such a consuming fetish of the last decade or so — to the benefit of all, I’d argue — with more straightforward stoner influences, both ’90s-derived and the modern incarnation of desert-styled rhythm-making. In fact, the closest comparison I can make, particularly as regards the vocals, is to the British act Stubb, whose “Soul Mover” cadence seems to find reinterpretation on Into the Sun opening cut “Decibel Grand.”

Self-released and with a vinyl issue reportedly forthcoming, Into the Sun follows last year’s Towards the Haze digital single, and two of the songs on that release — namely “Towards the Haze” and the bluesy “Plainrider” — show up here as well on the recording helmed by guitarist Kalle Lilja of retro specialists Långfinger, alongside the lasting impressions left by the fuzz boogie of “Sad Man’s Boogieland” or the Swedish language “Snygg och Stark,” which deepens the call and response arrangement between guitarist Carl Isaksson, bassist Lars Sandström and drummer Jens Fuglede (or some combination of them, anyway), all of whom provide vocals throughout the course of the record.

Molior Superum is rounded out by guitarist Oskar Öberg, and though they’re young, they seem to present a clear idea across Into the Sun of what they want to sound like, so unless they change their minds (always possible), they make a decent complement for bands like Mamont, Mud Walk, Deville, Skraeckoedlan, Snailking and others up and coming from Sweden’s next generation of heavy rock-influenced acts. The entirety of Into the Sun is streaming now at Molior Superum‘s Bandcamp page (the band is also on Thee Facebooks here), from which I snagged the player below:

If the “ex-members of Dopefight” doesn’t get you, the repurposed nod to “Symptom of the Universe” that launches headfirst into grinding punk probably will. Brighton-based trio War Wolf, who will release their Riding with Demons debut 10″ on Headless Guru Records early in 2013, are not shy in their intent, and their intent is bludgeoning. As someone who was genuinely bummed at the demise of Dopefight earlier this fall, to see two out of the three members emerge with new material so quickly is like they hardly missed a beat. I haven’t done a side-by-side comparison with Dopefight‘s last demos, but War Wolf definitely has their own personality.

That personality? More punk, more abrasive vocally, less stoned, more given to fits of grinding like the one noted above, which comes early into Riding with Demons on the track “Stench of Death.” More mosh-ready hardcore. But there remains a propensity every now and again to slow things to an excruciating crawl and bask in sounding as fucked up as possible, which is nothing if not consistent. Riding with Demons is short, but it’s a bold mission statement nonetheless, like what earliest Hatebreed might have been if it ever put on a Vitus record, or like a drunkard’s Napalm Death.

Either way, it’s fucking heavy and the trio find room to work a political bent as well, sampling former UK Prime Minister Tony Blair talking about the start of the Iraq War on “Liberation” before nailing the d-beat on closer “Slain Deity,” which is positively sprawling at 2:18. I’m about the least-likely proponent of hardcore-based anything you’re going to find, but with the sense of extremity underlying most of Riding with Demons, War Wolf prove they’re not going for any kind of tough-guy pose-out, and they’re a little too reckless to tie completely to one genre or another. Let’s hope they stay that way.

War Wolf is on Thee Facebooks here, and here’s the stream of Riding with Demons, courtesy of the War Wolf Bandcamp:

Dually-fronted Swedish six-piece Mud Walk recorded their latest EP, The Drifter’s Forgotten Lore, in San Francisco earlier this year. Released by Ella Music Nation, it’s a five-track collection of unpretentious retro heavy rock, fervent in its groove and varied between the warm low-end vibing of “I’m Good When I Hear the Guns” and the unmitigated shuffle of “On the Loose,” which has enough early ’70s swagger in its execution to live up to its title. Put to tape at the US Women’s Audio Mission, it’s a thickened garage stomper with bluesy thrust and soulful vocals vying for prominence in a way that only adds to the excitement of the listen.

The Drifter’s Forgotten Lore is Mud Walk‘s second EP behind 2011′s Barefoot Band, and is more than cohesive enough to make me wonder what the band might be able to do with a full-length release. Much of the focus inevitably is going to be on vocalists Johanna Bayard (also harmonica) and Anna-Stina Jungerstam — one can almost see the line forming to make mostly inaccurate comparisons to Heart circa Dreamboat Annie — but on opener “Alaska” (also the longest track at 4:47; points), guitarists Stina Årman-Assargård and Liv Platzer lack nothing for presence or prominence, and throughout the release, the double-Jonna rhythm section of bassist/backing vocalist Jonna Wikblad and drummer Jonna Karlsson consistently provide the foundation that keeps it all together.

To wit, “Sole Times” seems to be a moodier waltz at first, with vocals further back in their analog echo, adding to the psychedelic vibing, but in the final third, Wikblad underscores a start-stop riff with some classic funk and the sense of movement so prevalent throughout The Drifter’s Forgotten Lore is revived. Likewise, though Bayard‘s harmonica features heavily in the 2:50 closer, “Hounded,” it’s the rolling groove that emerges near the halfway point that makes the track such a landmark to end the EP. It’s a strong release from a young band with a firm handle on their aesthetic, more fully produced than the first, but still natural-sounding, and however much bell-bottomed worship seems to emerge from Sweden, acts like Mud Walk seem to be able to maintain their own spin on the style even as they affirm the tropes of the burgeoning subgenre.

The EP is available now from Ella Music Nation — I don’t have Spotify, but apparently Mud Walk is on Spotify — and they’re on Thee Facebooks and Twitter as well. The EP isn’t streaming publicly anywhere to the best of my knowledge, so here’s the video for the title-track to Barefoot Band, which should still give some idea of what Mud Walk are all about.

Dig it:

From the first creepy fuzz line that launches “God Lie,” the opening cut from Phoenix, Arizona, doomers Goya‘s debut demo, the atmosphere of the disc is mired in cultish lurch. Electric Wizard is a pervasive and near-defining influence, but the trio Goya — who formed in April and released the self-titled five-track demo last month — are nowhere near settled on simply that. Elements of blackthrash show up in the guitar line of “God Lie,” and there’s an underlying impatience in these songs — like they were played fast — that hints of intensity to come. Though frankly, it’s early even to tell that.

Tracks like “Blackfire” and “Opoponax” delve even further into the post-Witchcult Today stream of cult doom, Jeff Owens‘ guitar layering in with keys in a familiar but still thoroughly fucked wash of fuzz and distortion. In making a bed for themselves in Electric Wizard‘s influence, Goya have given themselves a solid starting foundation, and centerpiece “Mourning Sun” wants nothing for low-end rumble thanks to Owens‘ crushing tone and the bass of Jirix-Mie Paz, both of which seem to lumber forth at the march of Shane Taylor‘s persistent kick drum, no less indomitable in the mix than Owens‘ guitar is impenetrable.

Middle cut “Mourning Sun” is the highlight of the 37-minute demo’s five cuts, if only for the more individualized approach it seems to be showing, but 11:30 closer “Night Creeps” carves out a righteous plod of its own as Owens intones “forever dead/forever stoned” in a Jus Oborn cadence before embarking on the assault of wah noise that will cap the demo. No complaints. It’s recognizable for the most part, but Goya are just getting started and for the centerpiece alone, the demo’s worth a look.

In that regard, Owens, Taylor and Paz have made the tracks available as a pay-what-you-will download or a $5 CD (limited to 100; 13 left as of this post), both available through their Bandcamp, from whence this stream also comes:

Not everybody likes extreme sludge. Well I fucking do, so when a band like Old and Ill comes along with a demo like Live Slow Die Old, I want to take a little time out and mark the occasion. Taking cues alternately from High on Fire, Electric Wizard and croaking, lurching black metal, the three-piece got started in Las Cruces, New Mexico, in 2008 but relocated (as I’m told people do sometimes) to Austin, Texas, from which their abrasive, malevolent dirges now emanate.

The demo was released Sept. 27, and it’s a wash of bleary-eyed distortion, frustrated sway and molasses-thick doom. The 10-minute “House of Wax” lurches even when the pace “picks up,” and it’s not so much in any kind of witchy/culty way, but how Jamus Reichelt, Jason Joachim and Garrett T. Capps earn their Electric Wizard comparison is through the efficiency of their material and how much they squeeze out of classic grooves and — in the case of “House of Wax” particularly — a well-mixed lead that seems to scream out from the surrounding tonal murk. At about 35 minutes, Live Slow Die Old is vinyl-ready and loaded with stomp enough for two vinyl sides, its meatiness resonant through “House of Wax” and its fellow extended cut, the viscous 12:16 “Stag Hunt.”

Sandwiched on either side by the faster “Throat Feast” and “Public Universal Fiend,” the two longer tracks are a big part of the overall impression Live Slow Die Old makes, with doomed groove and growling vocals — something few bands do and even fewer do as well as Old and Ill — hitting home on “Stag Hunt” while the post-Chris Hakius drumming in the midsection only underscores the band’s righteous lineage and “let’s take this and do something else with it” ethic — admirable. It’s probably easy to point to other acts working in a similar vein (Cough come to mind, most immediately), since after a certain point if you play slow and scream, someone’s gonna come along and compare you to Eyehategod, but if this is Old and Ill‘s first outing, they’ve put the four years leading up to it to good use in finding individuality within established genre tropes.

It may not set them up for the most prolific career, but even the roughness in these tracks feeds the nastiness of the atmosphere and the production lets more than enough low end through to give a genuine sense of rumble. Misanthropic cave echoes only enhance the dismal tonal thickness, and I wouldn’t put it on at my next family BBQ, but Old and Ill‘s Live Slow Die Old demo serves its purpose in serving notice: These guys are fucking serious. I dig it.

And in that spirit, I share. Check out Old and Ill‘s Thee Facebooks page here for more info on them, or dive right into the stream below, courtesy of their Bandcamp:

Ambient duo Sunwølf make it pretty easy to immerse yourself in their debut release, Beyond the Sun (Ark Noise). The album, which hits 26 minutes but is full-length enough at that time, will see a physical release in November but is available digitally now, through Bandcamp and the like as is the way of things these days. Drummer/organist Dominic Deane and guitarist/sampler Matt Carrington hit on a balance not unlike that of Panopticon-era Isis, finding a space to dwell between drone-minded stillness and forceful post-metallic psychedelia.

The six-track outing opens quietly enough with the fade-in feedback of “Genesis” (as appropriate a beginning as any), and gradually reveals its instrumental sprawl in a slow-boiling progression that continues for the song’s six minutes. By my count, it’s the longest of Beyond the Sun (points), but it hardly tells the whole story of what Sunwølf are setting out to accomplish musically. Particularly by veering to and away from Deane‘s drums, the two-piece add a sense of variety to their purposeful lack of movement, so that although “Solar” refuses to pay off its own build, some satisfaction comes as the thicker guitar and insistent percussion of “Morose Land” feeds into an overall heavier vibe. That sensibility continues through Beyond the Sun‘s title-track, though that cut is slower, and soon enough, Sunwølf have momentum on their side as they continue through the rest of their debut.

Production is clear and crisp — they recorded with Ross Halden (Wild Beasts) and had Mell Dettmer (SunnO))), Earth, etc.) master — but as the guitar and cymbal washes of “Inertia” live up to the track’s name, it”s clear Sunwølf aren’t interested in sticking solely to one aspect of ambient heaviness or another. Carrington samples a playground late into the track and “Inertia” winds up evocative as it moves directly into the swell of “Time Stands Still” — take them from their names alone and understand that Beyond the Sun is not an album about movement — which incorporates acoustic guitar over a bed of organ hum, culminating in a feedback outro that offers transition into closer “Home.”

Perhaps its Sunwølf‘s most complex track, perhaps not — depends on the process of crafting the prior drones — but the layering of guitars over each other makes for the most evocative melody here on offer, wistful in a still-ethereal vaguery, sad and hard to pin down. Like most of Beyond the Sun, however, it’s a blip, there and gone, faded out almost as it just seems to have set the foundation for a genuine development. Maybe Sunwølf aren’t interested in that kind of thing, but if they are, they have the groundwork set on a track like “Home,” which just as easily could turn into a nine-minute post-metal build but ultimately remains humble in its scope.

Sunwølf are a relatively new band, and Beyond the Sun is their first release, but as it makes for a solid late-night listen, I thought I’d post the tracks here for your perusal. If interested, you can check them out live Oct. 13 in Leeds (poster above), or find out more about them at their Tumblr, buy Beyond the Sun at their BigCartel store, or just check it out on their Bandcamp, from which the following stream is hoisted:

London four-piece DeepSeaGreen have a pretty strong foothold in laid back grooves and fuzzy tones. On “Coagula,” one of the highlight cuts from their 2011 EP and latest release, Valsorda, they balance them both with a natural, bluesy-kind of feel, nestling into a catchy chorus that seems to put them in line with upstart acts like The Dirty Streets or maybe even a more grounded The Flying Eyes — post-Graveyard semi-retro heavy rock and roll — but then the swaggering Fu Manchu-style fuzz takes hold on “Over Song,” and the roots have shifted. Blues is still there, but the rock is heavier, however much the groove remains what rock critics mistakenly call “danceable.”

Founded by the brotherly duo of guitarist Jon and drummer Daniel Jefford and also featuring guitarist/vocalist Trent Halliday and bassist Marco Menestrina, I find it’s the aspects of DeepSeaGreen‘s sound that I can classify the least that I most enjoy. It would be easy to trace the bouncing blues of “Put Me Out” to Clutch, but then how does one account for the garage rock stomp of EP opener “Soul, Stray Cats and the Cosmos?” Valsorda follows a 2010 acoustic EP and its smooth production is a result of working with Fabio de Pretis at Blue Noise Studios in Rome. That’s a pretty far cry from London’s West End, though I can’t argue with the results. I’d go to Rome just to capture Menestrina‘s bass tone in “Nowhere to Hide,” though I guess that’s not saying much, because I’d go to Rome anyway if I could afford it.

The EP rounds out with “Small Stones,” which follows much the same course as “Coagula” or “Put Me Out,” but if DeepSeaGreen‘s modus is going to be to break out a warm-sounding blues jam every couple of tracks, that’ll work. They’re headed to Foel Studios in Wales to record a follow-up to Valsorda sometime before the end of September (time’s running out), and they toured Europe this past summer, playing in Italy, Austria, Germany, France and of course the UK.

Pretty cool stuff that just goes to show how much is happening in Britain right now. You can get more info at DeepSeaGreen‘s website, or their Thee Facebooks. Here’s the stream of Valsorda, which I grabbed from their Bandcamp: