Submerged in organ-drenched blues, The Devil Rides Out delve into some gritty atmospheres on their new single “The Righteous Walk.” Even the Perth, Australia, outfit acknowledge that this is new territory for them — their 2011 full-length, The Heart and the Crown (review here) touched on some of the same kind of moodiness in a song like “Hard Love,” but didn’t go nearly as far — and though they assure that the rest of their forthcoming Ugly Creatures LP is full-on, this stuff sounds pretty heavy to me and still has an underlying groove that should tie it well to what one can reasonably expect the rest of the album to offer.

Off to the PR wire:

THE DEVIL RIDES OUT STREAMING NEW SINGLE ‘THE RIGHTEOUS WALK’

The new single for Western Australia’s disciples of all things dirty and doomy THE DEVIL RIDES OUT was delivered to radio this week and has been posted for streaming online here.

The first taste of their upcoming ‘Ugly Creatures’ is probably the least “metal” song that the band have ever released. The irony of this will soon come to light, as overall the new release is easily the heaviest thing they have ever committed to tape, a pitch-black descent into crushing sludge and doom.

For now though, we walk ‘The Righteous Walk’, a blues-drenched lament to loss and redemption. Featuring tasty guest keys from Julian Bolleter, the track simmers and swaggers with vulnerability and menace in equal measure before erupting into a frenzied and desperate climax.

Written in the wake of death and the midst of disintegration, this song – and indeed all of their ‘Ugly Creatures’ – reveals a darker and more reflective Devil. Perhaps no longer running from demons but rather standing and facing them. Walking through the fire… walking the righteous walk…

LIKE www.facebook.com/thedevilridesoutband
FOLLOW www.twitter.com/devilridesout @thedevilridesout
VISIT www.thedevilridesout.com.au

The Devil Rides Out, “The Righteous Walk”

In one of the last shows they’ll play under the Kyuss Lives! moniker, Vista Chino joined forces with Orange Goblin and Red Fang (god damn that’s a good show) at the Metro in Sydney, Australia on Feb. 27. All three bands and many others are down that way for the massive Soundwave festival, and Vista Chino closed their pre-encore set with — wait for it — a new song. The title is either “Dragona” or “Gakona,” but likely it’ll be something else entirely by the time their new album streets, so it probably doesn’t matter yet anyway. Joining drummer Brant Bjork, guitarist Bruno Fevery and vocalist John Garcia was C.O.C.‘s Mike Dean on bass.

Here’s their full setlist:

One Inch Man
Gardenia
Asteroid
Supa Scoopa and Mighty Scoop
100°
Thumb
Green Machine
Freedom Run
El Rodeo
Hurricane
Dargona

Encore:
Whitewater
Allen’s Wrench
Odyssey

I know I already closed out the week, and I hope if this isn’t actually the first video of new Vista Chino someone will correct me, but seeing this, it was too cool not to post. The video’s a little rough (shot on an iPhone), but it should still be enough to give a general idea until something a little cleaner surfaces, which it’s bound to do. Till then, dig you some of this:

Vista Chino, “Dragona” Live in Sydney, Feb. 27, 2013

The self-titled debut EP from Melbourne, Australia’s Motherslug arrives in a CD jewel case with green artwork on the front and a fuzzy black and white band pic on back, over which the four component songs — “Symptoms,” “Rollin’,” “Devils Rise” and “Space Man” — are listed in the Scorpions logo font. Some records just bleed stoner rock, and Motherslug‘s first outing is most assuredly that, moving from an initial Sleep reference at the very start of “Symptoms” — think the beginning of “Dragonaut” — all the way to a bigtime ride-this-riff slowdown at the end of the eight-and-a-half-minute closer. If nothing else becomes clear at the end of the EP’s 26 minutes, you can at least say Motherslug know what they like.

But in fact, a lot becomes clear by the EP’s end, and it’s not so much about seeking out hidden breadth — though to that end, I’d note the psychedelic break in “Rollin’,” which thankfully was not a Limp Bizkit cover — as it is about approaching Motherslug on the level of their intent. Having been a band for just over a year now, not even a year when they put these cuts to tape, there’s a lot about Motherslug that sounds exploratory, feeling out different ideas to see what works in their songwriting, but Cam (vocals), Fergus and Matt (both guitar), Cyn (bass) and Nick (drums) come out of the gate with a solid presentation of their genre and a clear idea, basking in the glow of Sabbath‘s “Hole in the Sky” in the early verses of “Rollin’” even as they push their thickened riffs into churning crash later in the track before putting the second half of the riffy bookend in place. Cam‘s singing reminds mostly of middle-era Alabama Thunderpussy or any number of other stoner singers, but he shows some drive toward fleshing out his approach as well on “Devils Rise” with a Cathedral-style cadence, and though high in the mix, his vocals don’t grate like so many heavy rock singers’ do.

And Motherslug are hardly the first nascent heavy rock unit to put their frontman out front, but with a song like “Devils Rise” — a little slower, a little more on the doom end of stoner doom — one really does want that sense of being swallowed whole by the riffs, and burying the vocals under the guitars and bass is how that happens. Again though, I’m not about to hold that against a self-releasing band on their first EP. By and large, the sound on Motherslug‘s Motherslug is crisp and professional — not too clean, but clean enough to display some will toward accessibility on their part. The closer, longer by two full minutes than anything else on the EP, keeps to a middle pace between the more shuffling “Rollin’” and “Devils Rise,” beginning with winding guitar and quickly locking in its central groove. Cyn provides the bridge between the opening run and the aforementioned final slowdown of the track with viscous, satisfying low end that pushes air en route to the rest of the band joining back in just past the five-minute mark.

That slowdown lasts for about the last three and a half minutes of the song, and though Motherslug have left themselves some room to grow, they’ve also made their intentions thunderously apparent. For listeners long inducted into the realm of stone, the tracks on the Motherslug EP should more or less feel like coming home, and though the band live quite literally on the other side of the planet, I can still just imagine the pint glasses raised in their honor in some darkened venue. Not revolutionary, not aiming for revolutionary, but a thoroughly enjoyable listen for the converted and something to build from should Motherslug seek further development.

Motherslug on Thee Facebooks

Motherslug on Bandcamp

It was a nice thought to imagine YOB and Elder arriving in the Southern hemisphere to align themselves with the thunderous New Zealand outfit Beastwars and stomp their way across Australia, but seems it’s not to be. At least not now. Elder and Beastwars both put out word that the tour (which was alluded to here back in November) was a no-go. Bummer, but hopefully it’s not the last opportunity for these bands to get together.

Here’s Elder‘s announcement followed by the whole of their Spires Burn/Release EP from their Bandcamp just because it rules and some local East Coast dates they have coming up this week and beyond:

It is with great regret that we have to announce the official cancellation of our Australian/New Zealand appearances coinciding with the cancellation of Doomnations 2013. We received word this morning that the festival would not be taking place this year due to “logistical issues”.

I assure you that we are deeply disappointed to postpone our travels, but would nevertheless like to thank all bands, fans and promotors who supported us in this endeavor. We hope to one day have the privilege of performing for you!

Elder upcoming live dates:
Jan 23 O’Brien’s Allston, MA
Jan 24 St. Vitus Bar Brooklyn, NY
Jan 29 Ralph’s Worcester, MA
Mar 14 Great Scott Allston, MA

Caking a ’90s alternative influence in fuzz, heavy riffs and a gnarly feedback bent, Aussie heavy rockers Drifter unveil their gritty debut EP, Head, with few frills and a pervasive garage-type rawness. The five-song release is over in 13 minutes, so you know the Melbourne-area trio aren’t wasting much time getting down to business, and sure enough they don’t. Cuts like “I’ve Been Bad” and the punkier “Priest” run from point A to B, and even the crunchier, grunge-derived “Halo” keeps to a more or less basic structure and lack of pretense, leading into closer “So Long,” which reminds of something Nick Oliveri might have brought to the table in Queens of the Stone Age, filling out sound-wise in the chorus behind the half-screamed vocals of guitarist Dan King, bassist Scott Fraser and drummer Dave Payne.

Each of the five tracks ends in feedback, and it’s King‘s guitar leading the way for almost the entirety of the proceedings, but Drifter do find room to work some complexity into their approach and their style. It’s a jump in aesthetic from “Halo” to “Priest” that’s striking even with “All Over Town” between them, the latter working off an almost pop-punk progression to showcase its “take that, maturity”-type chorus while the former churns and builds a considerable tension in just a three-minute span while also proffering one of those in-spite-of-itself hooks that made grunge so powerful a pop force in the first place. In terms of the sheer fuzz, “All Over Town” might be my favorite track. King‘s riff is simple and the vocal cadence touches on Fu Manchu without ever going overboard. Like the EP as a whole, it’s also over before you know it.

That works though, since if Drifter started spacing out it would take away from the immediacy of their hooks and the punkish base they show on Head. The CD arrived in a creatively-folded sleeve with the recording info, tracklisting and a cartoon cover of caveman beardos in shorty-shorts, so it’s good to know that whatever else Drifter have going on, they’ve got a good sense of weirdness to match. Can only help them going forward, and in the meantime, they work a bit of that into the music as well. You can hear the tracks on Head by hitting up the Drifter Bandcamp or looking them up on Thee Facebooks. Here’s the EP in its entirety for your perusal:

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

I guess it’s spring going on summer in Australia right now, but if ever anything was going to turn it back to winter, it’d be the plodding miseries of Melbourne’s Subterranean Disposition, whose dramatic and atmospheric approach takes the best parts of the European tradition and pits them against a modern sludgy edge. The one-man project of Terry Vainoras, the band nonetheless includes guest female vocals and saxophone, wanting little for diversity.

You can hear it for yourself on the stream below, which went live today to honor the fact that Subterranean Disposition‘s self-titled Hypnotic Dirge Records debut is available for preorder now. Details follow, courtesy of the PR wire:

Subterranean Disposition album streaming in full and available to order!

Subterranean Disposition is an experimental death-doom recording project from Terry Vainoras, a veteran of the underground Australian metal scene spanning a career almost two decades in length and also known for his involvement with Cryptic Darkness, The Eternal, and Insomnius Dei. The debut album from Subterranean Disposition is now available to order from Hypnotic Dirge Records, in both digipak and jewel cases formats. In addition to the CD version which is available for the label’s website, the full self-titled album has also been made available for free streaming in its entirety at Hypnotic Dirge’s bandcamp page where you can also purchase the digital download for $5.00.

Originally inspired by and conceived as a follow up to the music Mark Kelson had written for his and Terry’s Collaboration on the Insomnius Dei album ‘Illusions of Silence’, the debut self-titled Subterranean Disposition album explores further the use of dissonance and ambience, lending more dynamics to the long passages of darkness and light, crafted from the influence of early 90’s doom metal and modern sludge with forward thinking embellishments in song writing. Also permeating the record are the use of female vocals courtesy of Pheobe Pinnock, and guest saxaphone from D’arcy Molan, both musicians from the Australian scene. Considering all the elements present in the album, you can expect nothing less than an all-encompassing, broading, dark, and experimental ride through devastating darkness on the debut Subterranean Disposition album.

Links:
Order CD: http://www.hypnoticdirgerecords.com/subterraneandisposition-selftitled-tobuy.php
Free streaming/$5 digital downloads: http://hypnoticdirgerecords.bandcamp.com/album/self-titled

A three-way split released in gorgeous 180 gram LP (limited to 500), with each of its participants represented in a different primary color – red for Californian desert rockers WaterWays, blue for UK prog instrumentalists Sons of Alpha Centauri and yellow for Australian brotherly noise rock duo Hotel Wrecking City Traders – the latest Bro Fidelity Records is every bit as intricate and lush in its psychedelia as its Alexander von Wieding artwork. The three bands display distinct personalities between them and as WaterWays come first with side A all to themselves and twice as much material as either Sons of Alpha Centauri or Hotel Wrecking City Traders, they’re obviously meant as a focal point. No wonder, given the band’s lineup. WaterWays boasts in its ranks guitarist Gary Arce of Yawning Man, bassist/vocalist Mario Lalli and drummer Tony Tornay (both of Fatso Jetson) and vocalist Abby Travis, who in the past has collaborated with the likes of Masters of Reality and Eagles of Death Metal, so if they come first of the three acts represented here, at least they earned it via pedigree. It’s also not the first time Hotel Wrecking City Traders – who also run Bro Fidelity Records – have sought to highlight Gary Arce’s work. The band collaborated with Arce on a 2011 collaborative 12” (review here). And as WaterWays’ first release was a late-2010 split with Yawning Sons, which is Arce’s pan-oceanic collaboration with Sons of Alpha Centauri, he would seem to be the figure tying everything together on this split, particularly as his influence has bled into the work of Ben and Toby Matthews of Hotel Wrecking City Traders on their contribution here, the 9:37 closer “Pulmo Victus.” Before them, on side B, Sons of Alpha Centauri dig deep into their archives to unearth the 8:48 track “27,” from an early recording session, and of course on side A, WaterWays take their time unfolding four songs of textured dune-minded psych, Lalli and Tornay’s well-honed chemistry underscoring Arce’s expansive tone and Travis’ sweetly melodic vocals.

Travis is joined vocally — presumably by Lalli — by low-register rhythmic singing on opener “Piece of You,” playing up a progressive feel early into the split. “Piece of You,” “Queen,” “The Blacksmith” and “WaterWays” are all relatively short, none touching five minutes, and they play out with more structure to them than one is necessarily used to in the often jam-minded context of Arce’s work. The guitarist in no small part defines any band he touches. His tone is inimitable and unmistakable, and for the most part, though it’s not what Yawning Man usually traffics in, he does well with the material, which still feels and sounds open despite having set verses and choruses. He’s hardly caged here – there’s still plenty of room in these songs for him to wander as he will, and even Yawning Man’s freest material doesn’t linger time-wise – but it’s Travis’ vocals that wind up characterizing much of what separates WaterWays from the slew of other Arce projects. She’s got just enough quirk in her voice to make “Piece of You” stand alongside the Palm Desert tradition of weird explorations while still injecting a soulful breathiness into “Queen,” somewhat ironically jarring the listener back to the sandy ground with the punctuated line, “You’re fucking high.” “Queen” has a Western march in its snare from Tornay and Lalli has no problem keeping up and setting the melody on bass while Arce emits echoes of what seems like an eternal lead. It would be the highlight of WaterWays’ section of the split but for “The Blacksmith,” which has “hey-ya, hey-ya” backing vocals behind Travis reminiscent of but not caricaturing Native American chants and the band’s most engaging chorus here. By contrast, the eponymous “WaterWays” offers “lalala”s and an introductory progression that reminds strikingly of Geto Boys’ “Damn it Feels Good to be a Gangsta,” which left an impression as a featured track in the movie Office Space. Sonic coincidence most likely, and the song moves away to a drum-led section with Tornay setting the course on his toms, but the vocals here seem like an afterthought added once the instrumental progression was set, and the repeated line, “Go the waterways,” falls short of the lullaby it seems to be reaching to be, its pacing just a little too quick to soothe in its four-minute course. Crash cymbals toward the end and layered vocals don’t exactly help in that regard either, though the song remains undeniably infectious.

Read more »

I love a weekender tour. It lets bands still get their music out to people and, you know, also have a life, maybe hold a job, maintain interpersonal relationships, etc. You know, the little things we do that don’t necessarily involve riffs and giant ride cymbals. Aussie doomers Adrift for Days are headed out this weekend in support of their soon-to-be-reviewed Come Midnight… sophomore album, and the following news came in on the PR wire about the shows (there’s one in August as well), which I’ve decided to post in no small part because I wish I was in Australia right now. It’s 52/11° in Melbourne, which sounds just about right to me.

Here’s the info:

Adrift for Days mini tour July 2012

Sydney psychedelic droners Adrift for Days are hitting Melbourne, Adelaide and Sydney as part of a mini-tour in support of their new album Come Midnight…

On Come Midnight… Adrift for Days have retained the smoky, psychedelic heaviness that they’ve become known for, while also ambitiously expanding their sound. This sprawling album incorporates elements of doom, drone, stoner, sludge, blues, ambience, psychedelic rock, and post-metal. As a result, the album as a whole is hard to pin down to a single style or genre.

Their latest meditation is an ambitious, 71-minute concept album that draws influence from Earth, Jimi Hendrix, YOB, The Doors, Neurosis, Pink Floyd, Rosetta and Boris — and is currently streaming in full over at Art as Catharsis.

Be sure to catch Australia’s psychedelic droning doom giants when they hit your town!

Adrift for Days mini tour July 2012

Melbourne: 13 July at John Curtin Hotel: Mushroom Giant, Adrift for Days (NSW), Spider Goat Canyon, Roussemoff.
Adelaide: 14 July at Enigma Bar: Space Bong, Adrift for Days (NSW), Hydromedusa, Leather Messiah.
Sydney: 10 August at The Lansdowne Hotel: Space Bong (SA), Adrift for Days, Summonus, We Lost the Sea.

The same lineup that brought forth Aussie trio Arrowhead’s self-titled demo in 2009 returns for the self-released full-length Atomsmasher, a 10-track collection of straightforward fuzz jams that keeps holy a sort of stoner rock traditionalism. Nods to mid-period Fu Manchu abound both in sonics and the laid back atmosphere that pervades despite the tonal heaviness, the vocals of guitarist Brett Pearl having more in common here with Scott Hill’s delivery than there seemed to be on the introductory offering. Atomsmasher stays to verse/chorus delivery and presents itself as a collection of songs – that is, no discernible narrative thread running through or tracks bleeding directly into each other – typified by driving riffs, the warm, complementary bass work of Dave Lopez and strong choruses anchored by Matt Cramp’s groove-heavy drumming. It’s a record that establishes its ideas quickly but grows in appeal on subsequent listens, and whereas some of these songs seem at first to be acting as anchors for the tracks surrounding – take opener “Cobra DeVille,” “Blood from a Stone,” “Eagle Death Machine” and closer “Mayflower” as examples of the songwriting at its strongest – further investigation shows “Horse Called Doom,” “Stampede,” and “Holdfast” standing up in terms of quality, even if they’re not as immediate in doing so.

Looking at how Atomsmasher is structured, the aforementioned highlights come spaced apart with two songs between each (the exception being “Mayflower,” which ends the album), and whether that’s on purpose on the part of Arrowhead or just how the tracklisting felt right when they started to put it together, it shows an intriguing drive toward symmetry that the songs mirror in their own individual constructions. Make no mistake: Arrowhead have made a rock record, but it’s never that simple, and there are nuances of tone and phrasing on Atomsmasher, musically and vocally, that remind of just that point. Not that they’d tell you that. Or at least not that they’d tell you that while making the memorable hook of “Cobra DeVille” sound like something that just happened, anyway. Cramp fills out the drum lines while start-stop riffing lays a bed for leads for Pearl in the bridge, and then they unleash one of Atomsmasher’s best choruses in a fashion that’s pure The Action is Go. I’m not about to begrudge Arrowhead digging on some Fu Manchu, and they throw in some Kyuss/Slo Burn-type desert rocking for “Cobra DeVille” – which takes its title from the original name of the band – and the following title-track, which is a little more insistent in its drumming and freewheeling in transitional guitar leads from Pearl, despite keeping the Hill-esque vocal.

If it’s possible, “Horse Called Doom” is even more fuzzed out, the rhythm reminding some of the tension Dozer created on their first album, but solidly working in its own sphere to set up “Blood from a Stone” as the second of Atomsmasher’s four trail-marker choruses. Pearl takes an opportunity to recount a workingman’s blues lyrically while the guitars trip out a little more on effects during the verse, leaving Lopez and Cramp to keep the groove going, which of course they do with no trouble whatsoever. It’s the first of several tracks to top five minutes, but they put that time to good use with riffs and a decently-balanced instrumental break in which lead guitar permeates but doesn’t dominate any more than it should, defying expectation just a bit in extending another couple measures before kicking back into the chorus one last time. Just when you think they might solo themselves into oblivion, they pull it back, ending firm on two quickly-faded hits following the last chorus, setting up “Diamonds to Dust” as the end of the first side.

Read more »

It’s easy to tell right off the bat that Australian traditional doom outfit Rote Mare are well versed in the ways of their forebears. What began as a one-man project for guitarist/vocalist Phil Howlett, the band released seven CDR demos between 2005 and 2009, and after evolving into a full four-piece, wasted no time in issuing the Sorrows Path EP and the subsequent Serpents of the Church long-player via Altsphere Productions. The album, which came out toward the end of last year, consciously offers grand paeans to Black Sabbath and Celtic Frost, and winds up in the process having plenty in common with bands like Reverend Bizarre and Apostle of Solitude, who took and take a similar guitar-led, sans-frills approach, letting riffs and melodies carry across the ideas and moods they want to convey. In the case of Rote Mare, the mood is pretty singular: Doomed. Five of the total seven tracks on Serpents of the Church are over 10 minutes long – centerpiece “Funeral Song” hits 14:36 – and though the pace varies somewhat, it’s mostly from crawling to lumbering to creepy. With a total runtime of 76:20, Rote Mare’s first full-length as a complete band is a cumbersome affair. Howlett is joined in the band by guitarist Sean Wiskin, bassist Jess Erceg and drummer Ben Dodunski, and together they plod through the songs, mostly led by the guitar (the aforementioned centerpiece is an exception in this regard), and though it doesn’t lack personality, it’s a long trip to make and a long time to be drenched in Rote Mare’s woes. Serpents of the Church (as opposed to, one assumes, its “servants”) probably could have been two full-lengths and no one would’ve batted an eye. Though that kind of glut of material generally speaks of some self-indulgence on the part of the band involved, none of these tracks feel overwritten, so it may just be a case of Rote Mare, and Howlett as the one who’s probably still the guiding force despite having brought in the other three members, continuing an already established prolific nature in this form. So be it.

“Funeral Song” and “The Martyr,” which between them account for a full 27 minutes of listening time, provide a fitting summation of what Serpents of the Church is all about. Touches of Trouble show up in Howlett’s riffing, and his tradeoffs between sorrowful melodic singing and gruffer shouts, especially in “The Martyr,” remind of Chuck Brown of Apostle of Solitude, but Rote Mare seem less concerned with carving out a highly individualized niche in doom than with paying homage to their favorite bands via riffs and crashes. I’ve heard far worse done with less noble intentions, and if Serpents of the Church has anything at all, it has its heart in the right place. The first thing you hear on the record, for example, is the slow riff that becomes the central figure of the opening title-track, and as much as the already-noted later two tracks summarize the scope of the album as a whole, that initial riff tells a lot of the tale. It comes through a rough but relatively flat production and sounds downtrodden in the doomed tradition. It’s not long before Howlett’s vocals kick in – the second guitar seems to be the final element to arrive – and the slow rolling groove continues as he switches to a throatier approach during the chorus. The riffs are relatively simple, and if you’re familiar with the genre of traditional doom or have ever seen the inside of the Bizarre Reverend’s rectory, then a lot of what Rote Mare are doing here won’t be shocking. “Crossroads,” which follows the titular opener, follows a similar course, marking its territory early on a grooving doom riff and building around it, picking up its pace and filling out the sound somewhat later on, but keeping more or less the same progression throughout that process. Hey, if you can’t take slow, agonizing plod, you might as well pack it in as regards doom.

Read more »

Well, maybe the Western Australian rockers aren’t crossing the line here, unless it’s the line between what is a stoner rock video and what isn’t. Not much question which side of that line they’re on. The clip features footage from the 1978 film Cosy Cool, full of wheelies and biker dudes and a little bit of cultish violence at the end there for good measure. Can’t leave that out.

The song, “Broken White Line,” is also catchy as hell, and one of the most memorable from The Devil Rides Out‘s The Heart and the Crown, which was reviewed earlier this year. Dig it and the subsequent PR wire informations:

The genesis of the clip came about when a member of the band won a beat up old VHS copy of the 1970s Australian biker flick Cosy Cool at a local cult video night. Coming across this vintage grindhouse obscurity felt like destiny somehow and the band set about scouring the internet in search of the filmmakers — not easy some 35 years later. They eventually managed to track down Gary Young, the director/star of the film, who was initially reluctant to licence the film for a video clip but was won over when he received a copy of the song.

The resulting video is an affectionately grimey tribute to a bygone drive-in era of “ozploitation” cinema, backed by a high-octane soundtrack courtesy of The Devil Rides Out. Among other things it features a cameo appearance from the Commanchero Motorcycle Club — many of whom would end up either deceased, injured or in prison several years later in the wake of the infamous Milperra Massacre.

The Devil Rides Out are currently holed up over the southern summer, writing material for album number two, set for release in the second half of 2012. They support Dead Meadow (US) and Pink Mountaintops in Perth on Saturday, April 7, at The Bakery.

Australian three-piece Looking Glass made their debut in 2006 with a self-titled offering of heavy riffs and low-bottom grooves. It was a solid first showing, had some potential, and was ultimately up-front in what it was trying to achieve – riffing out, tossing in some psych. The follow-up, 2007’s 2, was also self-released and expanded greatly the psychedelic flourishes, pushing to the fore a jammed sensibility that the first outing didn’t have. It too was more a showing of potential, though, and listening to this year’s III, it seems as though Looking Glass – guitarist/vocalist Marcus de Pasquale, bassist/vocalist/keyboardist Lachlan Paine and drummer Clinton Paine – have spent the last four years making sure the potential they showed their last two times out started paying off. In short, it worked. III – the switch to Roman numerals being evident in the digipak artwork – blends the approaches of Looking Glass’ two prior releases, focusing in its earlier tracks on riffy drive and rhythmic crunch, and then gradually shifting into more spacious and expansive elements, more than doubling the runtime of songs like the catchy “Electric Mistress” or “Child of Vertigo” with the massive closing duo “Wizard of the Skull” (12:05) and “The King in Yellow” (11:07).

But for the smoothness of the transition by which that shift takes place, III would almost certainly be following a vinyl structure. Rather, it seems to be that rare thing these days: a CD actually meant to be a CD. The 49 minutes have a linear pattern, so that as “Child of Vertigo” (4:46) gives way to the transitional “Spiral Altar” (8:47), there’s less of a jump than there might be if, say, you were meant to flip a record from one side to the other. That said, the last two tracks are just about two minutes shorter than the five preceding, and that time can be largely accounted for in the acoustic interlude “Shores of Carcosa,” which divides opener “Heavy on the Hook” and “Electric Mistress” from “Child of Vertigo” and “Spiral Altar,” so maybe it could go either way. In any case, Looking Glass do well with the compact disc structure, and the progression of their songs is carried across without sounding forced or losing the momentum built by the first several tracks. To that end, “Heavy on the Hook” lives up to its name as the launch for III. Undeniably riff-based, it finds Marcus shouting far back in the mix behind Clinton’s propulsive drumming and righteously thick fills from Lachlan. At about halfway through, the groove opens up, Lachlan hits the wah and things go full-stoner, which serves as a solid lead-in for “Electric Mistress,” which is III’s best chorus and most classic jam. Marcus unrepentantly noodles through a solo and Sabbathian transitions smoothly executed by the Paines lead the way back into the song’s inevitable finish. By the time “Shores of Carcosa” comes on with a bit of finger, the breather is appreciated.

Read more »

Noise-infected Aussie five-piece Whitehorse specialize in the kind of death/doom that’s so lurching and massive in its brown metal tonality that it sounds slow even on the few occasions the band decides to speed things up. The Melbourne, Victoria, group have released enough live albums and EPs since 2005 to be called prolific, but the sludge-grooving Progression (Sweat Lung Records) is only their second full-length in that time, following a 2007 self-titled released by 20 Buck Spin. At a vinyl-ready 38 minutes, Progression is preceded in 2011 by the Document: 250407 EP, and a split with Rhode Island avant doomers The Body has already followed, but the album was clearly made to stand on its own, and it does, inflicting its dreary, darkened atmospherics well beyond the point of oppression. Whitehorse – guitarist Adrian Naudi (ex-The Berzerker), bassist Pete McLean, drummer Dan McKay, noise-maker David Coen and vocalist Peter Hyde – delve into the depths of viciousness, the ultra-slow riffing providing some groove that, again, is more prominent in the faster stretches, but still holds firm to some doom-based ideals and sets a firm ground for Hyde to launch his all-out brutal vocal assault in the forms of death growls and blackened metal screams that play well off each other on songs like the later “Time Worm Regression.”

Nothing polarizes quite like harsh vocals. Some people just can’t take it. I’m not one of them. If you can scream or growl effectively, fit with the rhythm and the atmosphere set by the music, then I’m all for it, and as far as that goes, Hyde has a handle on both technique and presentation. His growls echo over McKay’s crashes and the thudding riffs of Naudi and McLean, sounding disenfranchised and inhuman at the same time. Given Australia’s history of death/doom (dISEMBOWELMENT walks by and waves), Whitehorse aren’t exactly innovative, but they do what they do well, and Coen’s added noises and electronics do much to distinguish the band from others of their ilk. At their heart, they are unrelentingly heavy, and as the five tracks of Progression – “Mechanical Disintegration,” “Progression,” “Control, Annihilate,” “Time Worn Regression” and “Remains Unknown” – play out, Whitehorse’s blend of sludge and death/doom becomes even more effective, until finally the same plodding drums that introduced “Mechanical Disintegration” lead the way out of the 10:45 “Remains Unknown.” Hyde is a big part of that heaviness, since he never wavers in the filthiness of his approach, but each member of the band plays a part, including Coen, whose presence is immediately felt on the opener, playing off McKay’s drums with echoing rhythmically-timed noises of his own. There is a sense of foreboding about the opening of Progression, and Coen is a big factor in it.

Read more »

A death/doom outfit in the gloomy and mournful tradition, Subterranean Disposition (website here) is comprised of one man: Terry Vainoras. The Melbourne, Australia, native has played in acts like Insomnius Dei and The Eternal, and with Subterranean Disposition (one can only assume someone out there calls the band SubDis, whether it’s Terry himself or not), he explores the sorrowful aspects of European-style metallic melodrama.

Very European-style, actually. The song Vainoras has uploaded to Subterranean Disposition’s SoundCloud page shows a heavy My Dying Bride influence, particularly in the vocals, which in their spoken parts are more acted out than sung. Ranging musically from heavy thuds and expressions of an Iliad of woes to the open space that sampled ocean waves provide, the song “The Most Subtle of Storms” moves deftly between its parts and offers a considerable taste of what Vainoras has to offer.

Helping the song in that respect is that it’s almost 15 minutes long. Taken from Subterranean Disposition’s upcoming self-titled full-length, it’s rougher production-wise than most Eurodoom these days (one generally thinks of something lush and elaborate, and Vainoras isn’t there yet), which gives it a feel tossing back to the ’90s earlier days of the genre sound-wise with the complexity of the modern style. There are some kinks yet to be worked out in terms of the mix (at least until the saxophone kicks in; it’s smooth sailing from there), but here’s “The Most Subtle of Storms” from Subterranean Disposition’s Subterranean Disposition: