When it comes to 12th Records, it’s a safe bet that whatever else you’re going to get, the disc is going to have massive tone. The label is the imprint of Electric Amplifiers, which, unsurprisingly, the bands it puts out are using. 12th Records doesn’t issue discs often, but the label has been home to debuts and landmark albums from High on Fire, YOB, Ocean Chief and Starchild, among others, so when they get behind something, it’s worth paying attention. In the case of the Sardinian outfit Black Capricorn, that’s no less true than it’s ever been. Their 2011 self-titled debut keeps with the label’s tradition of engulfing fuzz – rhythm guitarist/vocalist Fabrizio “Kjxu” Monni’s riffs are given front-and-center attention in the band’s sound, and rightly so. On some levels, Black Capricorn is preaching to the converted here, but if it’s going to be stoner rock for stoner rock’s sake, I’m not going to hold it against the groove of “Il Tamburo del Demonio,” which seems to split the band’s attention between worship of the cosmos and worship of the capital-g Goat. Whatever they’re doing thematically, though, it’s the lurching tonal thickness and warmth that’s going to lure you in and keep you for the record’s 46-minute duration, and Black Capricorn – who’ve since added Il Baro on vocals/synth and a full-time lead guitarist in Andrea “Lord Fex” Cadeddu – make the most of it here.

Black Capricorn’s Black Capricorn was recorded in 2009, and Lord Fex does appear on guitar alongside Kxju on the closing duo of “The Maelmhaedhoc O’Morgair Prophecy” and “Liquid Universe,” but he’s credited as a guest musician, as is Claudio Monni (relation to Kxju assumed), who plays on the rest of the songs. The actual lineup is listed as Kxju, bassist Virginia and drummer Rachela, and if the distinction is that the trio recorded live and the other parts were added later, not knowing whether that’s the case or not, I’d believe it, given the natural flow of the material on the album. It is unpretentious in its awareness of genre and style to the point that the sample use on “Capricorn One” – taking its name from the 1978 sci-fi thriller – is more charming than redundant, and that from the opening riff that begins “Sa Bruxia,” Black Capricorn seem less concerned with innovation than exploration of nuance. That is to say, their debut doesn’t do much to reinvent the style of psychedelic stoner rock, but it develops a personality within it and makes the aesthetic conventions work to its advantage, at least for the most part. “Sa Bruxia” features the first of many excellent nod-ready grooves to come, and the integration of Claudio Monni’s lead work is fluid, sounding not at all out of place with the lumbering riffs surrounding.

For the most part, Kxju keeps his vocals to far-back echoes, and that works well in enhancing the album’s psychedelic feel, but on “Capricorn One,” he switches to a gruff, blown-out approach that does well to offer change from the first two tracks – “Perpetual Eclipse” being the second and keeping much the same vibe as the opener, with an added didgeridoo intro from Kxju. That switch is subtle compared to the overall effect of Black Capricorn, which is as though someone was shouting, “Follow that giant riff!” but with the more upbeat instrumental and desert-ed “Il Tamburo del Demonio” following, it has time to sink in before the album highlight “10,000 Tons of Lava” takes hold and blends the two processes. Virginia’s bass, which has warmth to match Kxju’s, should already have been noted as an element working greatly in Black Capricorn’s favor throughout the record, but on “10,000 Tons of Lava,” the contribution is undeniable. Accompanied by the strongest vocal performance here-included and rumbling low beneath a momentary break, it is the stuff of stoner rock dreams and immaculately put to tape. As Kxju’s effects swirl out into interstellar oblivion, I’m more locked in with what Virginia and Rachela are doing behind them, which probably wasn’t the original intent of the song but doesn’t weaken the impression it leaves.

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6:14AM - Woke up a bit ago from a dream that The Patient Mrs. was pregnant. There wasn’t much action happening — it’s not like she was pregnant and we were in a car chase; that was a separate dream — but it was one of those super-realistic dreams that you’re not sure when you come out of it which side of reality you’re on. Funny shit. I can’t even go to sleep without being hounded to reproduce. You’d almost think my genes weren’t totally fucked.

Anyway, once I was up, the thought of there being writing to do assured I wouldn’t go back to sleep — if you’re awake, you might as well be productive — so here I am. The four hours I got should suffice, or maybe I’ll be lucky and crash back out after this post. I’m not too worried about it. And hey, there’s Cuda, doing “Hellfire.” Who doesn’t want to be awake for that?

It might seem a strange choice to wake up and suddenly say, “I’m gonna go post a Cuda clip!” but it makes sense on some level as I was thinking about the nature of obscurity last night as I started to put together the new podcast — oh yeah, there will be a new podcast this weekend — and was ripping tracks from bands who had vastly different levels of success in their time. I don’t want to give away the theme in advance, but it got me thinking about all the stoner bands that popped up in the period between the mid-’90s and early-’00s and how many if any of them will have the chance to be rediscovered however far down the line.

Cuda was a one-shot offshoot from Bongzilla. Guitarist Spanky and bassist Cooter Brown assembled a four-piece and released the stonerly Hellfire EP on 12th Records in 2001. It’s the only thing they ever put out that I know of. Under half an hour of music 10 years ago and that’s it. Amazing how many acts have come and gone on one official release over the years. Hell, my band did it, if you want to put “official” in quotes.

This coming week, aside from that new podcast I already mentioned, I’ll get that Sungrazer interview posted. It’s not long, but there’s some insight to it that I think is cool and guitarist Rutger Smeets talks about being on tour with Colour Haze and RotoR, which is badass. I’ll also have reviews of discs from El Camino, Nordic Nomadic, The Dive and Russian Circles (and someone else), and in case the podcast isn’t enough audio for you, a premiere of a new track from SerpentCult. Lots of good stuff to come.

If you’ve emailed me in the last week or two and I haven’t gotten back yet, I apologize. Things have been really busy for me between work and school, and I just haven’t had the chance to be on my laptop and conscious at the same time. I’ll hammer all that out this weekend. Hope you have a good one. Be safe and we’ll see you on the forum and back here Monday for more zany fun.

Guitarist/vocalist Matt Pike formed High on Fire in 1998. It was about six months after his former outfit — a little group called Sleep — broke up, and together with drummer Des Kensel and bassist George Rice, Pike began to move in a less directly Sabbath-minded direction. The band’s first release came out in the form of a 1999 self-titled EP on 12th Records.

Not only was High on Fire‘s High on Fire the first output from the band, it was also the first 12th Records release. The label, which was and remains the imprint arm of the Electric Amp company, put out High on Fire prior to the band’s signing with Man’s Ruin for their first full-length, 2000′s The Art of Self-Defense.

Of course, High on Fire would go on over the course of subsequent releases on Relapse – 2002′s Surrounded by Thieves, 2005′s Blessed Black Wings and 2007′s Death is this Communion — to come to the forefront of modern metal consciousness, eventually signing with E1 for the release of last year’s Snakes for the Divine, but in 1999, they were still pretty much just Matt Pike‘s new band post-Sleep.

The High on Fire EP isn’t nearly as thrash-laden as the trio’s sound would eventually become, but those elements are there, particularly in Kensel‘s pulsating kick and the way he and Pike interact. George Rice, who would stick around until being replaced by Joe Preston (the Melvins, Thrones) for Blessed Black Wings, offered a stonerly thickness under the guitar solo in “10,000 Years,” and Pike‘s vocals actually find him trying some cleaner singing, which is something he wouldn’t attempt again for some time, instead relying on the rasp that came to typify the band’s first several LPs.

If you can find it, the EP is definitely worth a listen for fans of the band who may have joined up later. There are copies of the CD out there, and I’m told of this new phenomenon called “down-loading” (I may have that wrong) in which computers can be used like record players, but whatever futuristic means you use to acquire it — I was fortunate enough to find it at a semi-reasonable price in physical form — consider it recommended.

All three of these songs — “Blood From Zion,” “10,000 Years” and “Master of Fists” — showed up again on The Art of Self-Defense, but there’s nothing quite like hearing how it was the first time for the first time. If I was Frank Kozik (and I’m not, much to my ongoing disappointment), I’d have signed them too.