Friday Full-Length: Black Rainbows, Holy Moon
Posted in Bootleg Theater on November 18th, 2022 by JJ KoczanI’ve always felt a little bad about not reviewing Black Rainbows‘ Holy Moon EP. It’s one of the things I most associate them with in my mind, actually. That “Oh yeah I gotta review that” feeling never goes away for me sometimes. And the Rome-based three-piece are currently in the studio cracking out a follow-up to 2020’s Cosmic Ritual Supertrip (review here), so they’ve been in my head and it’s time to exorcise this particular riffy demon.
First of all, nine years after its first release in 2013, I’m still not sure why Holy Moon isn’t a full-length album. It’s 38 minutes long. It’s got six songs, and even if the title-track is a sample-laced instrumental and the closer is a 12-minute take on MC5‘s “Black to Comm,” so what? Holy Moon followed behind 2012’s Supermothafuzzalicious!! (review here) and preceded 2015’s still-the-best-album-title-ever Hawkdope (review here). It’s actually a pretty crucial moment for the band and in the riotous opener “The Hunter,” you can hear shades of the band they were becoming — ditto that the Core-via-The–Atomic–Bitchwaxy riff (so yes it sounds like “Kiss the Sun”) at root in “Monster of the Highway.”
Meanwhile, “Chakra Temple” digs into more meditative heavy psych in a way that feels genuinely experimental — it’s got throat-singing! — coming from Black Rainbows in the sense that I can’t necessarily think of when they’d done it prior, running nearly nine minutes in the process, “Holy Moon” itself earns its place with its riff and adds a bit of a respectable ‘fuck it’ vibe to the proceedings that has the effect, inadvertently or otherwise, of broadening the listener’s expectation, so that yeah, they can go wherever they want, including to “Chakra Temple” and the penultimate “If I Was a Bird,” which finds the band’s guitarist/vocalist and Heavy Psych Sounds honcho Gabriele Fiori digging into acoustic psychedelia in a way that he’d go on to do a few years later in his side-project The Pilgrim, which put out two records between 2019-2020. Granted, the band — at this point Fiori, bassist Dario Iocca and drummer Alberto Croce — had been toying with acoustics instrumentally since their 2007 debut, Twilight in the Desert, but that still makes “If I Was a Bird” part of the process.
And when they get around to it, they absolutely rip into “Black to Comm.” Like hungry animals feeding on that riff. Then solos start punching in and they absolutely take off on a righteous space rock jam, patterned after MC5 but with their own spin and fuzz and growing mellow and hypnotic before The Riff comes back in at 9:43. That’s right. From about 1:59 to 9:43? Black Rainbows pretty much hang up a sign that says ‘No Squares Allowed’ and take “Black to Comm” out for a walk. Were they the first to do so? No, obviously not. The song’s a cover. But especially for the three-piece at the time, it’s a bold take, and it declares a kind of sonic freedom that still resonates in their work today, now 17 years past their founding in 2005.
No doubt these things are easier to see in hindsight, but Holy Moon accomplished a few things for Black Rainbows in terms of moving them from Supamothafuzzalicious!! to Hawkdope, and that’s a pretty sizable jump. It’s the 
not-at-all-missing link between them. Black Rainbows‘ first three records, which along with a 2012 split with Farflung were first issued through Longfellow Deeds — that’s 2007’s Twilight in the Desert, 2010’s Carmina Diabolo and Supermothafuzzalicious!! in 2012; all of which have been reissued by Heavy Psych Sounds along the way, as has Holy Moon — set out as more straight-ahead desert-style stoner rock. Twilight in the Desert was Cali worship outright, done particularly well but not representative necessarily of the individual sonic personality the band would begin to manifest already in Carmina Diabolo, which, by the way, had the acoustic interlude “Carmen Diabolo” and the seven-minute heavy psych finisher “Space Kingdom.” So they were on their way. As a whole, Supermothafuzzalicious!! was tighter and more streamlined in terms of structure, and by the time they got to Hawkdope in 2015, their freakery had fully manifested in cuts like “Killer Killer Fuzz” and the still-glorious “The Cosmic Picker.”
They had found themselves. One tends to think of Fiori as the driving force in Black Rainbows — he’s the sole remaining founder, often credited as songwriter along with guitar, vocals, lyrics, various keys, etc., and certainly seems to be the root of their aesthetic — but Holy Moon feels like a whole-band progression from where they were to where they were going. And as a listening experience, what might at the time have seemed like throwaway material or half-a-song in the case of the title-track, issued to keep momentum going between proper studio albums — an ethic the band followed earlier this year when they put out Live at Desertfest Belgium (review here) ahead of the album they’re making now for release in 2023 — actually captures the transitional moment that was in progress for them. For “Holy Moon” alone, never mind the range between “Chakra Temple” into “If I Was a Bird” into “Black to Comm” back-to-back-to-back, the let’s-get-weird spirit of the Holy Moon EP might make it their most purely stoner rock offering. That’s not something they’ve always wanted to be, and it’s not necessarily what they’ve become, though there’s material on Cosmic Ritual Supertrip that argues otherwise, including the sample-laced closer “Fire Breather,” but it’s territory to which they laid claim on Holy Moon in a way they hadn’t before.
Also, there’s something inspiring about a band just putting a thing out there and letting it be what it is. Maybe Black Rainbows didn’t want to push Holy Moon as a full-length. Okay. Their LPs are reliably north of 40 minutes and this is less than that, with the no-lyrics title-track and the extended cover, so yeah, it might not feel complete. But the fact that they let it be what it is, recognized its worth on its own level, and issued it with what might’ve been perceived as rough edges demonstrates a self-awareness that many bands never develop, never mind in the span of five or six years past their debut.
It’s a ripper. I’m not going to say I’m glad I never reviewed it then so that I could appreciate it now — I did post about it; see here, here, here and here ; it’s not like this is the first time it’s ever been covered in this space — since it’s nagged at me for so long, but I am happy to have the occasion both to dig into it (sort of) properly in a spirit of looking forward to their next release. If you haven’t checked it out, maybe you’ll also dig where they’re coming from.
As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.
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So, last Thursday, not yesterday, I had arthroscopic surgery on my torn meniscus. They took out about 20 percent of it, apparently, which seems like plenty. It was a evidently a pretty bad tear, had flipped back on itself, blah blah. This happened, again, while getting up from sitting on the floor of the Kulturkirken Jakob in Oslo at Høstsabbat, because life is ridiculous. Could’ve happened anywhere, right? Had to be while I’m standing up to take pictures of a band. Fine. If that’s going to be my experience of middle age, at least the music is still good if I’m not.
Last weekend I was in some serious fucking pain. Starting about Friday night through let’s say Tuesday morning, could barely put weight on it. I thought I did something to screw it up, because Thursday after the operation I was veritably hopping around, but when I went back on Monday to have it checked the surgeon was like, “Nah dude toughen up everything’s cool.” Already it was getting steadily better, Sunday to Monday (last Saturday and Sunday were pretty bad, and I note that so that if I see this years later I can remember it), but this past Monday was also my follow-up with the neurologist I met with (virtually) a month ago.
I was on my own this time, which is never a good thing, since my wife was at work. I was supposed to have blood drawn before the appointment. Didn’t. Just got lost between everything with the knee. And there was a questionnaire that I was supposed to fill out that, because it came to my email with a bunch of other attachments instead of coming through the patient portal site (American healthcare is a fucking nightmare with digital integration; it’s like all these infinite-dollar companies decided to let their nephews make their websites), I most certainly didn’t do either. So it was a short, frustrating, humiliating appointment as the doctor reminded me repeatedly of the ADHD diagnosis she brought out last time and that the reason I felt overwhelmed all the time is my abby-normal brain goes from zero to fight-or-flight with almost nothing in between. I have a follow-up Dec. 14. Have had the blood drawn (seven fucking vials of it) and will do that questionnaire as well (it’s an uneditable pdf, so need to figure out quite how to do it), but yeah, it was an embarrassing, shitty-feeling day on the whole, and to be frank, it defined a good portion of the week. As awful.
After the surgery, they gave me Tramadol, which is an opiate that I kind of read as half-assed vicodin? I don’t know, and I honestly haven’t been curious enough to look it up. The only real relief I’ve gotten is from THC. I’ve also noticed that being stoned is kind of the only time I can shut my brain the fuck up and perhaps quell some of that crushing feeling that dominates much of my day-to-day. Disposable vapes on sale up the road have served well but are expensive, and money is as tight as sympathy is low. Clearly if I feel like I need a chemical comedown to get through my afternoon, that’s gonna be on me. My neurologist prescribed 75mg of Bupoprion, better known as Wellbutrin, which is an antidepressant. Back on meds I go. I guess that particular experiment stopping the Citalopram, better known as Celexa, a few months back that I had been on for years was not a success. Maybe I should seek ADHD meds as well, but given The Patient Mrs.’ experience in this regard, I’m not inspired. Ritalin, which I understand is both highly addictive — not a minor concern, as I am often habit-forming — and effective, is not forthcoming. Also I worry that if I don’t feel compelled to pick up everything on the floor and do dishes and laundry all the time, the house will go to shit since that kind of thing is very much my responsibility.
Perhaps the summary here is that shit is complicated.
Also busy. On Monday, the three of us in our first bit of whole-family air travel since the start of the pandemic will fly to the Mexican West Coast for a wedding of good friends on Tuesday. We fly out Monday AM, will return Thursday because flights actually on Thanksgiving are cheaper. That gives us Friday to get ready because Saturday we’re hosting my family from up the road and likely The Patient Mrs.’ family from Connecticut as well for turkey, etc., dinner, I think partially out of guilt for not being around on the day itself.
In any case, the rush continues as we move into December. The first weekend is the Alabama Thunderpussy reunion in Richmond, Virginia, that The Obelisk is presenting and that I’m driving to. The week after that is Truckfighters Fuzz Festival in Stockholm and I’m traveling with the Kings Destroy guys. I honestly don’t even know when I’m flying out or back. None of this stuff is anything to complain about — with the exception perhaps of the daunting prospect of eight waking hours Mexico and back on a plane with The Pecan, who is going to need to have explained to him multiple times why he can’t go in the cockpit and actually fly the thing; we rented a Switch at our local library-of-things, but still — between family time, The Patient Mrs. wrapping up her semester, flying to Mexico and back, driving to Richmond (five and a half hours; doable but takes some time, certainly) and back, flying to Sweden and back, covering these shows — I think I might want to go see Freedom Hawk in Brooklyn on Dec. 19 as well — the impending neurology follow-up and then pretty much right into the holidays and The Pecan’s break from school, I feel somewhat justified in being overwhelmed. While we’re here with the established backdrop of malfunctioning equipment that is my mind, I’ll add that I’ve also put on weight and am actively, by-the-minute engaged in hating myself for it even as I continue to both restrict and binge food. What a waste of my time that feels like. But it’s always there.
I go to the orthopedist again later this morning (it’s 6:30AM, was up at four to write today, as usual) to have the stitches taken out of my knee. If he tells me I need physical therapy — my mobility is limited and given the pain I only really started doing the prescribed stretches again yesterday, so it’s not outside the realm of possibility — I might just start to cry. It doesn’t seem take much these days in that regard.
So next week, with the travel, I have nothing scheduled for review. That’s a first in a few years at least. Monday I’ll either have a writeup for Candlemass or 16 — I’m going to listen to both today and decide what I’m feeling more to write up over the weekend — and I’m sure I’ll past one or two things along the way during the week between Tues., Wed., and Thanksgiving, before closing out the week on Friday (we’re home late Thursday night, so I don’t expect to have much ready to go ahead of time), and I need to do the next Gimme Metal show before we leave on Monday so it can air on Friday as well, oof, but even having nothing planned bothers me. It’s a big emotional drag that’s part of my whole compulsion to write, compulsion to create content here thing that has me horrified that if I stop for a few days, I won’t be able to start again. This is actually something I worry about.
So now that I’ve unloaded all of this on you — sorry about that, by the way; surely you have your own shit going on and if you’re still reading, thanks for not leaving to do the probably better things you have to do as part of your day — I’m going to literally and figuratively limp into the ending of this week in utter terror of what lays ahead.
As always, I hope you have a great and safe weekend and I thank you for reading. Don’t forget to hydrate, watch your head, and so on.
New merch coming soon, I hear.
FRM.
