As the follow-up to 1998’s Ringmaster, Dusk (Brainticket/Metal Rising), the 2009 offering from San Antonio, Texas, doom bashers Las Cruces, is something of a surprise. Mostly because, since the band more or less called it quits after self-releasing the The Lowest End EP in 2001, there was a good chance we’d have never heard from them again. If for no other reason than because two out of the first three tracks on Dusk have the word “wizard” in their title, that would have been a damn shame.

But not only is Dusk a long time coming in the sense of it being a long time since the band put out their last release, but considering they got back together in 2004 and recorded the album between 2006-2007, it’s been a while on that scale as well. We can only wonder what caused the probably numerous delays that held it back from seeing official release, but finally holding a finished copy of the record, Las Cruces don’t seem to have missed a beat.

Dusk is dudely riffer’s doom. Mark Zamarron, who sings lead vocals on the album (since out of the band) isn’t afraid to let a little classic metal misogyny fly, as “Banished” and “Cocaine Wizard Woman” will attest, but there are souls being burned, Christians being slaughtered and no shortage of blood being spilled otherwise, so I don’t think it’s something particularly against women — they’re just also on the list. If you’ve ever felt like you need a how-to guide for penning heavy metal lyrics, a quick perusal of the Dusk liner notes will do you well.

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Aside from being closest to the valley, Sound Exchange in Wayne on Rt. 23 is one of the few genuine small mom and pop stores left around these parts. I can’t even think of another in North Jersey — maybe that one in Passaic County I can never remember the name of. There used to be Mr. Muck’s right down the road, but that closed a couple years back. And even CD World (owned by FYE) and Coconuts (I think also owned by FYE) on 46 have gone and are going out of business. So really, Sound Exchange is it.

And it’s a record shopper’s store. CDs, vinyl, cassettes, used and new, with some t-shirts and books for good measure. It’s crowded, expertly organized (side-projects next to main outlets; Brant Bjork in with Kyuss, for example), and usually being perused by one or more of the local record store types. You know the type. Anywhere else in the world, they just don’t fit, but flipping the racks, they’re right at home.

Over the years I’ve accrued more buried treasure from Sound Exchange than perhaps any other single physical store, and this time, in addition to the latest Satyricon, I was happy to find used a copy of the 1996 debut full-length from Texas doomers Las Cruces, S.O.L. When last I heard from the band (last year at around this time, actually), they were looking to hook up a release for a new LP, Dusk, through Brainticket. That may not have happened yet, but that doesn’t make S.O.L. any less enjoyable on its own.

Las Cruces was a trio in ’96, consisting of Mark Zammaron on bass and vocals, Michael Hosman on drums and Mark Lopez on guitar. None of them are in the band since the 2005 reunion, and the sonic differences even between S.O.L. and 1998’s Ringmaster are palpable. Ringmaster may have been thicker sounding, but S.O.L. puts an unmistakable Trouble influence to excellent use on straightforward doom cuts “Sophia,” “Valley of Unrest” and “Shotgun.” Lopez‘s guitar is often double-tracked, and though it’s somewhat simplistic, the album is more than welcome to doom its way into my collection. For $6.98, you can’t really go wrong.

Bellowing viscous slabs of meaty stoner riffs and psychedelic itineraries, Dallas trio Wo Fat have little in common with the sly Hawaii 5-0 villain from whom they take their name. Nonetheless, the Brainticketed brainchild of songwriter, guitarist, vocalist and engineer Kent Stump sees the countdown through to zero and blasts strings first into ’70s space like something out of a Monster Magnet video on their second full-length, the aptly journeying Psychedelonaut, turning cuts like “Analog Man” and “Two the Hard Way” into bloozy (we all know which words combine to make that one) anthems of nonconformity and defiance. Floating helpless into the depths of “The Spheres Beyond,” no one can hear you scream for more.

They began their waltz down the riff-hand path with The Gathering Dark, but Psychedelonaut is a next-level effort the dynamism of which is slow to reveal itself and willingly reverential of the lords of both classic guitar muscle-building and any and all waves of stoner rock. You got your Fus all Manchued and your Goblins are all Orange. Amps too on that last one.

Stump‘s adjoining rhythm section, bassist Tim Wilson and drummer Michael Walter, propel the huge side B jam of “Not of this Earth,” making their presence fully known among the blues-becued licks, but it was the guitarist himself who was kind enough to answer some questions via email about the inspirations behind Wo Fat‘s psych turn, whether or not they’re stoner rock and what can be expected from them in the future (hint: it involves vinyl). Interview and some listening music are after the jump.

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If you can?t tell what kind of chicanery Dallas fuzz worshippers Wo Fat are getting up to by the art above and track names like ?The Spheres Beyond? and ?El Culto de la Avaricia,? please check your Kyuss CDs at the door. The Orange amped, moss-covered stoner jams start and don?t stop on their Brainticket debut (second LP overall), Psychedelonaut, a record that begs for the warmth of vinyl like a neglected dog needs water.

The trio make haste with the Captain Beyondisms on the opening title track and offer no let up when it comes to blues riffs and lard-ass grooves. The tones will ring familiar to anyone who?s been around the genre for a while, but growing ever rarer are the American bands playing tried and true stoner music with little pretense of being anything else. It?s hard to hold the simplicity of their sound against them when they perform with such earnestness and dedication to what they do. From ?Enter the Riffian? and the drive down Fu Manchu?s highway on ?Analog Man? — which is literally an ? la Grand Funk proclamation of guitarist/vocalist/principle songwriter/recording engineer Kent Stump?s love of 2? tape — to the us vs. them, Hammond on rye last stand of ?Two the Hard Way,? Wo Fat are crystalline in their drive to make classic, thickly cut, riff-driven rock.

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Elliott’s Keep may not play the most innovative kind of doom, but you have to at very least acknowledge why they’re doing it. The Dallas trio of Ken Aubrey (bass/vocals), Jonathan Briar (guitar) and Joel Oloren (drums) were once part of doom stompers Marauder with Glenn Riley Elliott. When Elliott died in 2004, the three surviving members of Marauder — long since broken up by then — formed Elliott’s Keep in his honor and released their debut, In Medias Res, on John Perez of Solitude Aeturnus‘ Brainticket Records late last year.

Stylistically, they offer bloodied-axe medieval themes and ’90s-esque dark sounds?, throwing the occasional heavier element (like a Sepultura breakdown six minutes into “Iter!”) or growled, snarling vocal into a mostly traditional doom context. They’re not hip and they know it, but they’re not trying to be either, so it works for the duration of the six tracks on In Medias Res. It’s roots doom, but with some more metallic tendencies.

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