Posted in Whathaveyou on June 27th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Netherlands-based dark-prog rockers Iron Jinn announced a while back that they’d be supporting and collaborating on stage with Alain Johannes in September, opening a trio of Dutch shows for the singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist (also producer!) known for his work in Eleven, Queens of the Stone Age, Them Crooked Vultures, and so on as part of the latter’s broader European tour. Not a minor gig for Iron Jinn, whose self-titled debut (review here) came out this past Spring through Stickman Records and who played the release show for it at this year’s Roadburn Festival in Tilburg, and my only real complaint with any part of their working with Johannes was I wasn’t going to be able to see it.
Well, in addition to posting the ticket links and the handy reminder below along with the update that they got together presumably to do a bit of prep and see whether the entire idea was going to work at all, Iron Jinn have announced that they and Johannes have together filmed a ‘2 Meter Sessions’ that will be unveiled sometime I guess in the coming months, so that those unable to actually catch them live can have a bit of the experience. If you’re not familiar — and it’s okay, I wasn’t either — the ‘2 Meter Sessions’ is a series that’s been going on for at least 30 years and their YouTube channel has an archive of 150-plus clips to lose your afternoon perusing. Hopefully this one streams as well.
Words from Iron Jinn follow, as per social media:
Stoked to have had Alain Johannes as a guest at the Iron Jinn HQ, a sweet week of jamming on his music, hanging out and playing the legendary 2 Meter Sessies together. Waiting for his return in September to play some exciting evenings at the clubs. Iron Jinn kicks off every night with a full set and this melts into Alain Johannes’ iconic musical legacy (solo/QOTSA/Eleven). Interchanging musicians, instruments and building on each others energy is gonna be the adage and living in the moment will be a necessity. Tickets on sale now at the venues!
Based in The Netherlands, Iron Jinn release their self-titled debut album April 21 through Stickman Records, celebrating with a release show at Roadburn Festival on April 22. The venerable Tilburg fest is a fitting showcase for the band, who’ll present their nine-song/60-minute 2LP cycle after having made their live debut at Roadburn 2018 (review here), working then under the moniker Iron Chin and entrancing a packed 013 Green Room with material it had never heard before. With the collaboration between guitarist/vocalists Wout Kemkens (Shaking Godspeed) and Oeds Beydals (Death Alley, Gewapend Beton, Molassess, The Devil’s Blood) at its foundation and the lineup solidified with Birth of Joy‘s Bob Hogenelst on drums and Gerben Bielderman (Pronk, Pauw, Helm Op, Figgie, etc.) on bass, the album sprinkles moments of clarity amid headed-way-down plunges into atmospheric ethereality, seeking to and succeeding in immersing listeners in a sprawl of dark and progressive heavy rock with the stated goal of evoking the feel of dreams.
It is ostensibly psychedelic, but an is-it-real psychedelia of the unconscious more than an effects wash, and in moments like the winding build to the crescendo of “Blood Moon Horizon” tucked away before closer “Cage Rage” with its extended drone finish or the dual-vocal melody of “Ego Loka” rounding out the three-song leadoff salvo with particularly Swansy vibes after “Winding World” first sounds the alarm at the very beginning of the record — howling lead guitar with frenetic strums behind; Beydals and Kemkens announcing the band’s arrival — before the string sounds swap channels, the effigies are burnt and the mellowing resolution feels like a gift after and before “Soft Healers” plunges once again into foreboding creep groove, jazzy intensity and a feel like being transported to someplace else as (I think?) the keys emulate horns to set up a stretch of electronic low-end beneath the meditative doom drums and second cynical verse — “break through the fourth wall and ‘burn the green room” feels like it’s dropping references — lead to a wobbly weirdo guitar solo emblematic of the manner in which Iron Jinn as a whole is too cohesive to be experimental at least in the we-tried-a-thing-and-recorded-it sense, but remains deep in its exploratory sensibility, notably in the guitars and synth, which makes it fortunate that Bielderman and Hogenelst are there to provide a grounding presence.
I haven’t seen a tracklisting for the 2LP version, and perhaps unsurprisingly for something with so much flux and fluidity, there are multiple ways it can be parsed, whether it’s the first three songs on side A or just the pairing of the seven-minutes-each “Winding World” and “Soft Healers,” which on their own do a lot of the necessary scene-setting for what follows, even as “Ego Loka” offers reinforcement of their vaporous motives. Stylistically, Iron Jinn is much the same, and whether one wants to approach it as a work of dark prog, heavy psychedelia edging on the stratospheric, a new branch on the cultish family tree of The Devil’s Blood or the something-else that it ultimately is, what you put into listening is what you’re going to get out. “Truth is Your Dagger” picks up to establish new momentum coming out of “Ego Loka,” unfurling its somehow-drifting angularity on either side of a midsection break held together by Hogenelst that leads into a surge topped by a triumphant delivery of the title-line by Kemkens and Beydals in unison; the encouragement to break out of one’s own conceptions that the concluding lyric “stab your truth” seems to be — and fair enough — the ethic seems to be conveyed by the example of the music itself as much as the words. Whatever else Iron Jinn might be at this point and however one might want to categorize this initial offering, it is markedly individual.
That is to say, if you want to sit with it and parse out where centerpiece “Lick It or Kick It” — lyric video premiering below; the single’s been out for a week or so — comes by its grim ambience, vague threat and theatricality (also glockenspiel, maybe), controlled bombast and abiding tension that seems unreleased even through the fuzzed payoff it gets, amplifier hum carrying into the willful play on Devin Townsend doing ’60s psych that “Relic” posits itself as being, you can do that. I won’t say you’re wrong, and the rewards of closer listening throughout Iron Jinn‘s Iron Jinn are abundant, from the arrangements of synth to the manner in which the guitars work off each other from the outset on, to the subtle energetic push of the vocals coming together and the tent of Weird under which the entire cosmic circus is held, to the chiming notes in “Bread and Games” that seems to push as far into amorphousness as they’ll go until the aforementioned drone epilogue of “Cage Rage” still to come, viewing the world around them with due terror and refusing to capitulate to the demands of genre. But whether you’re with them or not, Iron Jinn are going to that place right where the brain meets the stem, the moment right before you’re actually asleep when you have that last conscious thought, whatever it might be. They’ll take you if you’re willing to go, and I’d bet that if you asked, they already know not everyone is going to be willing.
As “Bread and Games” gives over not-quite-patiently to the here-we-go spacey intro of “Blood Moon Horizon,” and the eventual breakout that everything seems to have been moving toward that’s still preface to the linear build across the first six-plus minutes of “Cage Rage” — a fitting title to encapsulate the jaw-clenching tension throughout — the real accomplishment of Iron Jinn becomes somewhat clearer. The reason it works is because none of the four-piece are playing against each other. Beydals and Kemkens, Hogenelst and Bielderman, drawn together by the smoothness in the production sound by Sebastiaan van Bijlevelt — let alone the scope of the mix — are united in their purpose. Even when Hogenelst sits out “Ego Loka” and “Bread and Games,” and even in the comings and goings around that long final contemplation, the impression is that Iron Jinn are trying this thing and following where it has led them. You wouldn’t be wrong to say it’s a record born out of and for strange times, but the ambition here is even broader than the hour-long stretch of the 2LP. They sound like a band frustrated with conceptions of style driving themselves to create something new, like a sculptor whose medium just happens to be fog, or the first chapter of a book the plot of which is only starting to reveal itself.
Maybe that’s the case, and if so, I won’t predict where Iron Jinn are headed in terms of sound, or why, or how long it might take them to get there, if ‘there’ is even an endgame and the goal is not the going in the first place. What I’ll say instead is that I hope they keep moving. In following Beydals‘ work over the last decade, as a player and songwriter he seems to have been a reluctant focal point, searching for an outlet wherein his expressive intent can flourish, untethered. And it could well be that Iron Jinn, that the creative partnership with Kemkens is the vehicle through which that will happen, but it will be years more before we know, and in a universe of infinite possibility the band could break up before the record’s even out and an asteroid could smash into the ocean and set all the oxygen in Earth’s air on fire, so no, no speculation. But there’s potential and promise at this point, and Iron Jinn builds on past successes — by no means just for Beydals — while carving out their own path, not with arrogance, but with artistic certainty and an awareness of and (if understated) excitement for what they might yet achieve.
In addition to the Roadburn release show, Iron Jinn have slots lined up at Desertfest London, Sonic Whip, Bridge Festival and Void Fest, as well as club dates and gigs supporting and performing with the venerable Alain Johannes in September. You’ll find those dates, the preorder link, and more info under the premiere of the “Lick It or Kick It” lyric video below, courtesy of the PR wire.
Iron Jinn are Oeds Beydals (The Devils Blood/Molassess/Death Alley), Wout Kemkens (Shaking Godspeed/De Niemanders), Bob Hogenelst (Birth of Joy/Molassess) and Gerben Bielderman (Pauw).
‘Iron Jinn’ tracklisting 1. Winding World 2. Soft Healers 3. Ego Loka 4. Truth Is Your Dagger 5. Lick It Or Kick it 6. Relic 7. Bread And Games 8. Blood Moon Horizon 9. Cage Rage
Credits Written by Iron Jinn Recorded and mixed at Galloway Studio by Sebastiaan van Bijlevelt Mastered by Pieter Kloos Video concept and styling Louise Te Poele Camera, animation and editing Daan van der Pluijm Handwriting by William van Giessen Released by Stickman Records
The release party takes place at Roadburn Festival Saturday April 22nd. Other shows we can announce at this point are:
14.04.2023 – Live At The Farm, Varsseveld Gelders Goed 05.05.2023 – London (UK), Desertfest London 06.05.2023 – Nijmegen (NL), Sonic Whip 12.05.2023 – Eindhoven (NL), Bridge Festival Eindhoven 27.05.2023 – Den Haag (NL), Sniester 12.08.2023 – Void Fest, Waldmünchen (DE) 08.09.2023 – Zwolle – Hedon Zwolle w/ Alain Johannes 09.09.2023 – Leiden – Gebr de Nobel w/ Alain Johannes 10.09.2023 10.09.2023 – Heerlen – @de nieuwe nor w/ Alain Johannes
Iron Jinn are: Oeds Beydals Gerben Bielderman Bob Holgenelst Wout Kemkens
Posted in Reviews on March 23rd, 2020 by JJ Koczan
I’ve got a fresh cup of coffee and 50 records that need to be reviewed, so it must be time for… constant distractions! Oh, no, wait, sorry. It must be time for the Quarterly Review. Yeah, there it is. I know there’s a global-pandemic-sized elephant in the room as a backdrop for the Spring 2020 Quarterly Review, but it seems to me that’s all the more reason to proceed as much as possible. Not to feign normality like people aren’t suffering physically, emotionally, and/or financially, but to give those for whom music is a comfort an opportunity to find more of that comfort and, frankly, to do the same for myself. I’ve said many times I need this more than you do, and I do.
So, you know the drill. 10 records a day, Monday to Friday through this week, 50 when we’re done. As Christopher Pike says, let’s hit it.
Quarterly Review #1-10:
Total Fucking Destruction, …To Be Alive at the End of the World
The long-running experimentalist grind trio Total Fucking Destruction remain a sonic presence unto themselves. Their strikingly apropos fifth LP, …To Be Alive at the End of the World, begins with the five-minute psychedelic wash of its unrepentantly pretty, somewhat mournful title-track and ends with a performance-art take on “The Star Spangled Banner” that shifts into eight or so minutes of drone and minimalist noise before reemerging in manipulated form, vocalist/drummer Richard Hoak (also the odd bit of flute and ocarina), bassist/vocalist Ryan Moll and guitarist Pingdum filling the between space with the blasts and jangles of “A Demonstration of Power,” the maddening twists of “Attack of the Supervirus 1138” and other mini-bursts of unbridled aggression like “Stone Bomb,” “Doctor Butcher” and the outright conceptual genius of “Yelling at Velcro,” which, indeed, is just 20 or so seconds of yelling ahead of the arrival of the closer. In an alternate future, Total Fucking Destruction‘s work will be added to the Library of Congress. In this future, we’re boned.
For the six-song/51-minute The Deep, Italian three-piece Humulus somewhat depart the beer-rocking ways of 2017’s second LP, Reverently Heading into Nowhere (review here). Sure, the riff of “Gone Again” is pure Kyuss idolatry (not a complaint), and “Devil’s Peak (We Eventually Eluded Death)” brims with drunkard’s swagger, but factor in the wonderfully executed linear build that takes place across the eight-minute “Hajra,” the mellow emotionalism of the penultimate acoustic track “Lunar Queen,” and the two extended psychedelic bookends in opener “Into the Heart of the Volcano Sun” (14:48) and closer “Sanctuary III – The Deep” (14:59), and the narrative becomes decidedly more complex than just “they drink and play riffs.” These elements have been in Humulus‘ sound all along, but it’s plain to hear the band have actively worked to push themselves forward in scope, and the range suits them, the closer particularly filled with a theatricality that would seem to speak to further storytelling to come on subsequent releases. So be it. They called the album The Deep and have dived in accordingly.
An atmosphere of melancholy is quickly established on The River‘s third LP, Vessels into White Tides (on Nine Records), and for being the London four-piece’s first album 10 years, it takes place in a sense of unrushed melody, the band rolling out a morose feel born of but not directly aping the likes of My Dying Bride and Paradise Lost as the vocals of guitarist Jenny Newton (also strings, percussion) — joined in the band by guitarist Christian Leitch, bassist Stephen Morrissey and drummer Jason Ludwig — make their presence felt soon in opener “Vessels,” which unfolds gracefully with a crash and rumble fading into the beginning of the subsequent “Into White” (15:01) with the four-minute string-laced “Open” and the 9:44 shifting-into-intensity “Passing” preceding closer “Tides,” which is duly rolling in its progression and offers a sweet bit of release, if wistful, from some of the more grueling moments before it, capping not with a distorted blowout, but with layers of strings reinforcing the folkish underpinning that’s been there all along, in even the most tonally or emotionally weighted stretches.
Mountain Pass, which begins with “The Northern Face,” ends with “The Southern Face” and along the way treks through its on-theme title-track and the speedier “You Don’t Know Death,” catchy “Thunder I Am” and fairly-enough bluesy “Devil Blues,” has its foundations in oldschool metal and punk, but is a decidedly rock-based offering. It’s the debut from Oakland’s Phantom Hound, and its eight component tracks make no attempt to mask their origins or coat their material in unnecessary pretense — they are what they are; the album is what it is. The three-piece dip into acoustics on the instrumental “Grace of an Angel,” which shifts with a cymbal wash into the lead guitar at the outset of the eight-minute title-track — the stomp of which is perhaps more evocative of the mountain than the passing, but still works — but even this isn’t so far removed from the straightforward purposes of “Irons in the Fire,” which stakes its claim to dead-ahead metal and rock, barely stopping along the way to ask what else you could possibly need.
Munich-based trio Chang, with clear, modern production behind them, present their debut EP release with the 29-minute Superlocomotodrive, and though it’s short, one is left wondering what else they might need to consider it an album. What’s missing? You’ve got the let’s-jam-outta-here in the six-minute opener and longest track (immediate points) “Mescalin,” and plenty of gruff riffing to back that up in “Old Rusty Car” and the later title-track, with a bit of Oliveri-era Queens of the Stone Age edge in the latter to boot, plus some psychedelic lead work in “Sterne,” some particularly German quirk in “Bottle Beach” and a massive buildup in tension in the finale “Bombs Whisper” that seems to arrive at its moment of payoff only to instead cut to silence and purposefully leave the listener hanging — an especially bold move for a first release. Yeah, it’s under half an hour long, but so what? The heavy rock terrain Chang are working in is familiar enough — right down to the less-than-P.C. lyrics of “Old Rusty Car” — but there’s no sense that Superlocomotodrive wants to be something it isn’t. It’s heavy rock celebrating heavy rock.
Though the grunge influence in the vocals of guitarist Simone Pennucci speak to more of a hard-rocking kind of sound, the basis of The Dhaze‘s sprawl across their ambitious 53-minute Sound Effect Records debut album, Deaf Dumb Blind, is more in line with progressive metal and heavy psychedelia. Bassist Vincenzo La Tegola backs Pennucci on vocals and locks in fluid mid-tempo grooves with drummer Lorenzo Manna, and makes a highlight of the low end in “Death Walks with Me” ahead of the titular trilogy, presented in the order of “Deaf,” “Blind” and “Dumb,” which flow together as one piece thanks in no small part to the synth work added by La Tegola and Pennucci together. Obviously comfortable in longer-form stretches like “Death Walks with Me” or the earlier “Neurosis,” both of which top nine minutes, the Napoli trio bring a fervent sense of variety to their work while leaving themselves open to future growth in terms of sound and playing with the balance between elements they establish here.
Hailing — because metal bands hail, to be sure — from the Pittsburgh area, newcomers Lost Psychonaut boast in their ranks two former members of sludgers Vulture in guitarist/vocalist Justin Erb and bassist Garrett Twardesky, who, together with drummer Tristan Triggs, run through a debut LP made up of five tracks that skirt the line between groove metal and heavy rock, tapping-like-flowing-kegs influences from the likes of ’90s-era C.O.C. and others such burl-laced groovers. Tales of day-to-day struggles make a fitting enough backdrop to the riff-led proceedings, which commence with the prior-issued single “My Time” and roll-groove their way into a duo of longer cuts at the end in “Restitution Day” (8:46) and “On a Down” (7:44). Frankly, any mention of the word “Down” at all in a song that feels so outwardly “buried in smoke” can hardly be coincidental, but that nod is well earned. With a couple years behind them, they know what they’re going for in this initial batch of songs, and the clearheaded nature of their approach only gives their songwriting more of a sense of command. There’s growth to be undertaken, but nothing to say they can’t get there.
I suppose you could, if so inclined, live up to Liquido di Morte‘s slogan, “We play music to take drugs to,” but you’d be shorting yourself on the experience of a lucid listen to their third long-player IIII. Issued in limited handmade packaging by the band, the Milan instrumentalists offer a stylistic take across the late-2019 five-tracker that stands somewhere between heavy post-rock and post-metal, but in that incorporates no shortage of thoughtful psychedelic meditations and even some kraut and space rock vibes. The primary impact is atmospheric, but there’s diversity in their approach such that the centerpiece “Tramonto Nucleare” begins cosmic, or maybe cataclysmic, and ends with an almost serene roll into the floating guitar at the outset of the subsequent “Rebus (6,5),” which is the longest inclusion at 13:40 and an encompassing, hypnotic srpawl that, whether you take drugs or not, seems destined to commune with expanded or expanding minds. The front-to-back journey ends with “The Fattening,” a cinematic run of synth after which a slaughter feels almost inevitable, even if it arrives as silence.
Bonus points to Netherlands four-piece Black Burned Blimp for including song titles like “What Doesn’t Kill You, Makes You Weirder” and “The Good, the Bad and the Fucking Horrific” and, at the start of “Desert Wizard,” the sample from Trailer Park Boys wherein Mr. Lahey declares, “I am the liquor” on their debut LP, Crash Overdrive. Native to a heavy rock legacy that includes acts like 13eaver, 35007, Astrosoniq and Celestial Season, among many others, the band hint toward melodic complexity while remaining focused on raw energy in their songwriting, such that even the drumless, harmonized and minute-long “Flock” seems to seethe with unstated tension for “Robo Erectus,” which follows, to pay off. It does, though perhaps with less of a tempo kick than one might expect — certainly less than the careening “The Good, the Bad and the Fucking Horrific” a few tracks later — but somehow, no matter what speed they’re actually playing, Black Burned Blimp seem to make it sound fast. Vitality will do that.
Though their arrival comes amid a German heavy rock underground that’s nothing if not well populated, Fulda-based five-piece Crimson Oak present with their self-titled debut long-player a stylistic take that’s both modern and genuine sounding, finding solid ground in well-crafted songs drawing more from ’90s-era heavy and punk in “Danger Time,” which follows the contemplative “Of My Youth,” the bulk of what surrounds expressing a similar level of self-awareness, up to and including the nine-minute side B opener “Brother of Sleep,” which sets psychedelic guitar against some of the album’s biggest riffs (and melodies). There’s middle ground to be had in cuts like “Displace” and “Sunset Embrace” still to come and “Fulda Gap” earlier, but Crimson Oak seem to touch that middle ground mostly en route to whichever end of the spectrum next piques their interest. At seven songs and 42 minutes, it’s not an insubstantial LP, but they hold their own with confidence and a poise that speaks to the fact that some of this material showed up on prior EPs. That experience with it shows but does not hold the band or songs back.
