Kind of an odd Quarterly Review, huh? I know. The two extra days. Well, here’s the thing. I’ve already got the better part of a 50-record QR booked for next month. I’ve slid a few of those albums in here to replace things I already covered blah blah whatever, but there’s just a ton of stuff out right now, and a lot of it I want to talk about, so yeah. I tacked on the two extra days here to get to 70 records, and in May we’ll do another 50, and if you want to count that as Spring (I can’t decide yet if I do or not; if you’ve got an opinion, I’d love to hear it in the comments), that’s 120 records covered even if I start over and go from 1-50 instead of 71-120. Any way you go, it’s nearly enough that you could listen to two records per week for the next full year based just on two weeks and two days of posts.

That’s insane. And yet here we are. Two weeks in a row wouldn’t have been enough, and any more than that and I get so backed up on other stuff that whatever stress I undercut by covering a huge swath in the QR is replaced by being so behind on everything that isn’t said QR. Does that make sense at all? No? Well fine then. Shit.

Quarterly Review #51-60:

Ecstatic Vision, Live at Duna Jam

This is a good thing for everyone. Here’s why: For the band? Easy. They get a new thing to sell at the merch table on their upcoming European tour. Win. For the label? Obviously the cash from whatever they sell, plus the chance to showcase one of their acts tearing it up on European soil. “Check out how awesome this shit is plus we’re behind it.” Always good for branding. For fans of the band, well, you already know you need it. I don’t have to tell you that. But Ecstatic Vision‘s Live at Duna Jam — as a greater benefit to the universe around it — runs deeper than that. It’s an example to follow. You wanna see, wanna hear how it’s done? This is how it’s done, kids. You get up on that stage, step out on that beach, and you throw everything you have into your art, every fucking time. This is who Ecstatic Vision are. They’re the band who blow minds like the trees in the old videos of A-bomb tests. They’ve got six songs here, a clean 38-minute live LP, and for the betterment of existence in general, you can absolutely hear in it the ferocity with which Ecstatic Vision deliver live. The fact that it’s from Duna Jam — the ultimate Eurofest daydream — is neat, but so help me gawd they could’ve recorded it in a Philly basement and they’d still be this visceral. That’s who they are. And if we, as listeners, are lucky, others will hear this and follow their example.

Ecstatic Vision on Facebook

Heavy Psych Sounds website

—

 

Usnea, Bathed in Light

Oppressive in atmosphere regardless of volume but with plenty of volume to go around, Portland all-doomers Usnea return after six years with their third full-length, Bathed in Light, a grueling and ultimately triumph-of-death-ant work spanning six songs and 43 minutes of unremitting drear positioned in the newer-school vein of emotionally resonant extreme death-doom. Plodding until it isn’t, wrenching in its screams until it isn’t, the album blossoms cruelties blackened and crushing and makes the chanting in “Premeditatio Malorum” not at all out of place just the same, the slow-churning metal unrelentingly brutal as it shifts into caustic noise in that penultimate track — just one example among the many scattered throughout of the four-piece turning wretched sounds into consuming landscapes. The earlier guitar squeals on “The Compleated Sage” would be out of place if not for the throatripping and blastbeating happening immediately prior, and whether it’s the synth at the outset and the soaring guitar at the end of “To the Deathless” or the Bell Witchian ambient start to closer “Uncanny Valley” — the riff, almost stoner — before it bursts to violence at three minutes into its 8:27 on the way to a duly massive, guttural finish for the record, Usnea mine cohesion from contradictions and are apparently unscathed by the ringer through which they put their audience. Sometimes nothing but the most miserable will do.

Usnea on Facebook

Translation Loss Records store

—

 

Oceanlord, Kingdom Cold

The more one listens to Kingdom Cold, the impressive Magnetic Eye Records debut LP from Melbourne, Australia’s Oceanlord, the more there is to hear. The subtle Patrick Walker-style edge in the vocals of “Kingdom” and the penultimate roller “So Cold,” the Elephant Tree-style nod riff in “2340,” the way the bass underscores the ambient guitar and layered melodies in “Siren,” the someone-in-this-band-listens-to-extreme-metal flashes in the guitar as “Isle of the Dead” heads into its midsection, and the way the shift into and through psychedelia seems so organic on closer “Come Home,” the three-piece seeming just to reach out further from where they’ve been standing all the while for the sake of adding even more breadth to the proceedings. If the Magnetic Eye endorsement didn’t already put you over the edge, I hope this will, because what Oceanlord seem to be doing — and what they did on their 2020 demo (review here), where “Isle of the Dead” and “Come Home” appeared — is to work from a foundation in doom and slow-heavy microgenres and pick the elements that most resonate with them as the basis for their songs. They bring them into their own context, which is not something everyone does on their fifth record, let alone their first. So if it’s hearing the potential that gets you on board, fine, but the important thing is you should just get on board. They’re onto something, and part of what I like about Kingdom Cold is I’m not sure what.

Oceanlord on Facebook

Magnetic Eye Records store

—

 

Morass of Molasses, End All We Know

Thoroughly fuzzed and ready to rock, Reading, UK, three-piece Morass of Molasses follow 2019’s The Ties That Bind (review here) with their third album and Ripple Music label debut, End All We Know, breaking eight songs into two fascinatingly-close-to-even sides running a total of 37 minutes of brash swing and stomp as baritone guitarist/vocalist Bones Huse, bassist Phil Williams and drummer Raj Puni embrace more progressive constructions for their familiar and welcome tonal richness. With Huse‘s vocals settling into a Nick Oliveri-style bark on opener “The Origin of North” and the likes of “Hellfayre” and “Naysayer” on side A, the pattern seems to be set, but the key is third track “Sinkhole,” which prefaces some of the changes the four cuts on side B bring about, trading burl and brash for more dug in arrangements, psychedelic flourish on “Slingshot Around the Sun” and “Terra Nova” — they’re still grounded structurally, but the melodic reach expands significantly and the guitar twists in “Terra Nova” feel specifically heavy psych-derived — before “Prima Materia” combines those hazy colours with prog-rock insistences and “Wings of Reverie” meets metallic soloing with Elder-style expanse. Not a record they could’ve made five years ago, End All We Know comes through as a moment of realization for Morass of Molasses, and their delivery does justice to the ambition behind it.

Morass of Molasses on Facebook

Ripple Music website

—

 

Fuzzy Grapes, Volume 1

Real headfucker, this one. And I’ll admit, the temptation to leave the review at that is significant, since so much of the intent behind Fuzzy Grapes‘ Volume 1 seems to be a headfirst dive into the deepweird, but the samples, effects, of course fuzz and gong-and-chant-laced brazenness with which the Flagstaff, Arizona, unit set out on “Sludge Fang,” the Mikael Åkerfeldtian growls in “Snake Dagger” and the art-surf poetry reading in “Dust of Three Strings” that becomes a future cavern of synth and noise before the “Interlude” of birdsong and meditative noodling mark a procession too individual to be ignored. Three songs, break, three songs, break goes the structure of the 25-minute debut offering from the five-piece outfit, and by the time “The Cosmic Throne” begins its pastoral progadelic “ahh”s and dreamy ride cymbal jazz, one should be well content to have no idea what’s coming next. Once upon a time elsewhere in the Southwest, there was a collective of kitchen-sink heavy punkers named Leeches of Lore, and Fuzzy Grapes tap some similar adventurousness of spirit, but rarely is a band so much their own thing their first time out. “Made of Solstice” harsh-barks to offset its indie-grunge verse, fleshing out the bassy roll with effects or keys from the chorus onward, jamming like Blind Melon just ran into Amon Amarth getting gas at the Circle K. “Goatcult” ties together some of it with the harsh/chant vocal blend and a cymbal-led push, finishing with the line “Every day the world is ending” before the epilogue “Outro” plays like a vintage 78RPM record singing something about when you’re dead. Don’t expect to understand it the first time though, or maybe the first eight, but know that it’s worth pursuing and meeting the band on their level. I want to hear what they do next and how/if their approach might solidify.

Fuzzy Grapes on Facebook

Fuzzy Grapes on Bandcamp

—

 

Iress, Solace EP

Conveying genuine emotionality and reach in the vocals of Michelle Malley, the four-track Solace EP from L.A.’s Iress turns its humble 16 minutes into an expressive soundscape of what the kids these days seem to call doomgaze, with post-rock float in the guitar of Graham Walker (who makes his first appearance here) atop the solemn and heavy-bottomed grooves of bassist Michael Maldonado and drummer Glenn Chu for a completeness of experience that’s all the more immersive on headphones in a close-your-eyes kind of listen — that low contemplation of bass after 2:20 into “Soft,” for example, is one of a multitude of details worth appreciating — and though leadoff piece “Blush” begins with a quick rise of feedback and rolls forth with a distinct Jesu-style melancholy, Iress are no less effective or resonant in the sans-drums first two minutes of “Vanish” in accentuating atmosphere before the big crash-in finishes and “Ricochet” offers further dynamic display in its loud/quiet trades, graceful and unhurried in their transitions, the surge of the not-cloying hook densely weighted but not out of place either behind “Vanish” or ahead of “Soft,” even as it’s patience over impact being emphasized as Malley intones “I’m not ready” as a thread through the song. Permit me to disagree with that assessment. The whole band sounds ready, be it for a follow-up album to 2020’s Flaw (which was their second LP) or whatever else may come.

Iress on Facebook

Dune Altar website

—

 

Frogskin, III – Into Disgust

Long-running Finnish troupe Frogskin ooze forth with extremity of purpose even before the harsh-throated declarations of 10-minute opener “Mistress Divine” kick in, and III – Into Disgust maintains the high (or purposefully low, depending on how you want to look at it) standard that initial millstone-slowness sets as “Of Vermin and Man” (8:30) continues the scathe and tension in its unfolding and the somehow-thicker, sample-inclusive centerpiece “Serpent Path” (7:21) highlights violent intention on the way to the shift that brings the atmosphere forward on the two-minute still-a-song “B.B.N.T.B.N.” — the acronym: ‘Bound by nature to be nothing’ — which feels likewise pathological and methodical ahead of closer “The Pyre” (11:46). One might expect in listening that at some point Frogskin will break out at a sprint and start either playing death or black metal, grindcore, etc., but no. They don’t. They don’t give you that. And that’s the point. You don’t get relief or release. There’s no safe energetic payoff waiting. III – Into Disgust is aural quicksand, exclusively. Do not expect mercy because there’s none coming.

Frogskin on Facebook

Iron Corpse store

Violence in the Veins website

—

 

Albinö Rhino, Return to the Core

No strangers to working in longform contexts or casting spacier fare amid their doom-rooted riffery, Helsinki’s Albinö Rhino downplay the latter somewhat on their single-song Return to the Core full-length. Their first 12″ since 2016’s Upholder (review here), the trio of guitarist/vocalist/Moogist Kimmo Tyni, bassist/vocalist VH and drummer Viljami Väre welcome back Scott “Dr. Space” Heller (also of Space Rock Productions, Øresund Space Collective, etc.) for a synthy guest appearance and Mikko Heikinpoika on vocals and Olli Laamanen on keys, and the resultant scope of “Return to the Core” is duly broad, spreading outward from its acoustic-guitar beginning into cosmic doom rock with a thicker riff breaking doors down at 9:30 or so and a jammed-feeling journey into the greater ‘out there’ that ensues. That back and forth plays out a couple times as they manifest the title in the piece itself — the core being perhaps the done-live basic tracks then expanded through overdubs to the final form — but even when the song devolves starting after the solo somewhere around 22 minutes in, they’re mindful as well as hypnotic en route to the utter doom that transpires circa 24:30, and that they finish in a manner that ties together both aspects tells you there’s been a plan at work all along. They execute it with particular refinement and fluidity.

Albinö Rhino on Facebook

Space Rock Productions website

—

 

Cleõphüzz, Mystic Vulture

Self-released posthumous to the defunctification of the Quebecois band itself, Mystic Vulture ends up as a rousing swansong for what could’ve been from Cleõphüzz, hitting a nerve with “Desert Rider”‘s blend of atmosphere and grit, cello adding to the space between bass and guitar before the engrossing gang chants round out. With its 46 minutes broken into the two sides of the vinyl issue it will no doubt eventually receive, the eight-song offering — their debut, by the way — makes vocal points of the extended “Desperado” with its organ (I think?) mixed in amid the classic-style fuzz and “Shutdown in the Afterlife” bringing the strings further to the center in an especially spacious close. But whether it’s there or in the respective intros “The End” and “Sarcophage” or the proggy float of “Sortilège” or the Canadiana instrumental and vocal exploration of the title-track itself, Mystic Vulture flows easily across its material, varied but not so far out as to lose its human underpinning, and is more journey than destination. It’s gotten some hype — I think in part because the band aren’t together anymore; heavy music always wants what it can’t have — but in arrangement as well as songwriting, Cleõphüzz crafted the material here with a clear sense of perspective, and the apparent loss of potential becomes part of hearing the album. Some you win, some you lose. At least they got this out.

Cleõphüzz on Facebook

Cleõphüzz on Bandcamp

—

 

Arriver, Azimuth

Expansive metal. Azimuth is the fourth long-player and first in seven years from Chicago progressive/post-metallers Arriver, who answer melody with destruction and crunch with sprawl. From opener “Reenactor” onward, they follow structural paths that are as likely to meld meditative psych with death metal (looking at you, “Only On”) as they are to combust in charred punker aggro rage on “Constellate” or second track “Knot.” The 10-minute penultimate title-track would seem to represent the crossroads at which these ideas meet — a summary as much as anything could hope to be — but even that isn’t the end of it as “None More Unknown” makes dramatic folkish proclamations before concluding with a purposeful nod. “In the Only” winds lead guitar through what might otherwise be post-hardcore, while “Carrion Sun” duly reeks of death in the desert, the complexity of the drum work alone lending gotta-hear status. Plenty of bands claim to be led by their songs. I won’t say I know how Arriver assembled these pieces to make the entirety of Azimuth, but if the band were to say they sat back and let the record write itself and follow its own impulses, I’d believe them more than most. Bound to alienate as well as engage, it is its own thing in its own place, and commanding in its moments of epiphany.

Arriver on Facebook

Arriver on Bandcamp

—

 

This Friday, Feb. 24, Los Angeles-based imprint Dune Altar will release the first single from the debut collaboration from Foreign Body Sensation and Justin Maranga, titled Subterranean Environments. The album — which is out March 31 — contains four tracks running a manageable 38 minutes of evocative and immersive ambient sounds, various drones on guitar peppered with vague samples as on “Bioluminescent Synesthesia,” wooden tongue drum on “In the Layer of the 5-Sided Serpent” (premiering below), melodic wash on “Cenote Meditation” or the loosely cinematic comings and goings of “Dream Cave Floating Photo Double,” which sprawls its wash over 10 minutes and offers some spiritual redemption in its at-least-I-think-it’s piano-laced second half before drifting back into the ether from whence it came.

Well credentialed as the two parties involved are — Foreign Body Sensation is multi-instrumentalist Louis Schultz of Nightjacket, Army Navy, and who has a few Emmy nominations for sound editing to his credit, and Justin Maranga, who not only founded and runs Dune Altar, but is known for his songwriting, guitar, vocals, etc., work in anti-derivative prog-psych breadth-bakers Ancestors as well as the let-loose classic rockers Night Horse — and given the nature of the work itself across Subterranean Environments, it isn’t really a shock that their material is fluid and unfolds with a patient kind of fluidity. “Bioluminescent Synesthesia” runs 14 minutes and is both opener and longest track (immediate points), with a distinct keyboard line over swelling and receding drones.

It starts with some distant radio static but before it’s passed the two-minute mark, the listener is already surrounded by its headphone-worthy depth of mix and the reach of its auroral waveforms. The static returns, loosely post-apocalyptic, as the piece moves into its midsection, but there’s more here than sci-fi (or actual) end of the world scenarios, and the light that the title hints toward seems to come to the fore later on over that same melancholy keyboard line, weaving in and around until the radio finds its song and closes out, letting “Cenote Meditation” — is it a meditation on C? safe to presume — which like “In the Lair of the 5-Sided Serpent” as noted below feels fleshed out from an initial studio improvisation.

But fleshed way out, mind you. Guitar drifts far back, and maybe it’s Moog or something on the lower end, with manipulated effects up front, but the sound is farther away, and if you want to go ahead and close your eyes and take a couple belly breaths, indeed it’s true to its title in being a safe space for that. That is to say, there’s no explosion coming, which in context is a relief, and though “Cenote Meditation” is the shortest track (complementing the opener and capping a vinyl side A), it is not as still as it feels, finding a krautrocky line of low end synth in its second half while the guitar and other keys or hand-chimes move dynamically through and out.

This lets the harp-strum classic you’re-dreaming-now-like-it’s-tv beginning of “Dream Cave Floating Photo Double” commence with an immediate sense of waking, but yes, waking in a dream — self-aware titles or at least ones offering some potential explanation of intent or after-the-fact narrative are a hallmark of the style — and exploring the unconscious with outstretched hands leaving trails behind them as they move through a dense-feeling air.

There’s a build happening in “Dream Cave Floating Photo Double,” or at least an acquisition of more layers, and it might be Subterranean Environments‘ richest piece in terms of how much is actually happening, but at no point is it overbearing or out of line with what surrounds. Rather, when played all together, the four tracks flow easily into each other and give a whole-album sense of the listening experience. That is, on their own, they might take you to a different place, but listening all at once, the going is by no means rough. I wouldn’t say the penultimate cut has a payoff necessarily in the way one might think of drums crashing to a big rock finish or some such, but it leaves an impression just the same.

And with the maybe-looped hand percussion moving like water in a stream while the guitar is the sunlight reflecting off the surface, “In the Layer of the 5-Sided Serpent” is perhaps where we’ve gone in that dream cave, the non-lyric vocals of Mollie Weaver of Mihi Nihil (the ‘h’s are pronounced like ‘k’s, apparently) marking a human presence without really being anymore grounded than the guitar or synth, that sun drum continuing to do the work of adding a current of movement beneath the surrounding airiness. There isn’t danger in the lair, and it doesn’t feel like we’re there to steal some treasure or a egg made of rare-element gemstones, but the continuing of the light percussion after the other instrumentation fades away seems to hold us in place for a time nonetheless, until its own fadeout ends the album. Perhaps some look-it-in-the-eye hypnotic resonance there lingering in the brain.

I have neither the qualifications to, nor, honestly, the interest in name-dropping influences here, but ambient music, minimalist kraut electronics and modern cosmic psych drift are loose aesthetic touchstones for what’s happening in these Subterranean Environments. Schultz and Maranga engage in a fair amount of world building (if that didn’t come through above) and offer opportunity for their audience — which will not be everybody, but those who give due attention will be rewarded in kind — to either lose themselves in the procession or try to reach out and grab each bit of ethereality on the air as it moves past. Happy trails, in any case.

If you either are or can put yourself in a place to meet it properly, you’ll find “In the Lair of the 5-Sided Serpent”

 

Subterranean Environments is the first collaborative release from multi-instrumentalists Justin Maranga (Ancestors, Night Horse, Dune Altar) and Foreign Body Sensation [aka Louie Schultz (Army Navy, Nightjacket). The album is an instrumental journey through infernal atmospheres via hypnotic ambient textures and haunting melody.

“In the Lair of the 5-Sided Serpent” is the lead single off of “Subterranean Environments”, the first collaborative release from multi-instrumentalists Justin Maranga (Dune Altar, Ancestors, Night Horse) and Foreign Body Sensation. It features a heavily manipulated improvisational vocal performance from MOLLIE WEAVER (Mihi Nihil). With the constant rhythm of a sun drum as its backbone, the sound is inviting, though the alien wails become threateningly unfamiliar. Jarring moments remind you that whether underground or on it, we’re all suspended in space.

Initially recorded as a live-in-studio improvisation in 2019 by FBS and Maranga, the piece was edited and added to over time. When “Subterranean Environments” was finally mixed and sequenced, something still seemed to be missing from “In the Lair…”. The pair invited Mihi Nihil vocalist Mollie Weaver to improvise a wordless performance over their music, and what she returned with truly embodied the soul of their 5-Sided Serpent.

Tracklist:
1. Bioluminescent Synesthesia (14:29)
2. Cenote Meditation (6:38)
3. Dream Cave Floating Photo Double (10:24)
4. In the Lair of the 5-Sided Serpent (7:24)

Foreign Body Sensation on Facebook

Foreign Body Sensation on Instagram

Foreign Body Sensation on Bandcamp

Ancestors on Facebook

Ancestors on Instagram

Ancestors on Twitter

Ancestors on Bandcamp

Ancestors website

Dune Alatar on Facebook

Dune Altar on Instagram

Dune Altar website

Guess this is it, huh? Always bittersweet, the end of a Quarterly Review. Bitter, because there’s still a ton of albums waiting on my desktop to be reviewed, and certainly more that have come along over the course of the last two weeks looking for coverage. Sweet because when I finish here I’ll have written about 100 albums, added a bunch of stuff to my year-end lists, and managed to keep the remaining vestiges of my sanity. If you’ve kept up, I hope you’ve enjoyed doing so. And if you haven’t, all 10 of the posts are here.

Thanks for reading.

Quarterly Review #91-100:

Hazemaze, Blinded by the Wicked

This is one of 2022’s best records cast in dark-riffed, heavy garage-style doom rock. I admit I’m late to the party for Hazemaze‘s third album and Heavy Psych Sounds label debut, Blinded by the Wicked, but what a party it is. The Swedish three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Ludvig Andersson, bassist Estefan Carrillo and drummer Nils Eineus position themselves as a lumbering forerunner of modern cultist heavy, presenting the post-“In-a-Gadda-da-Vida” lumber of “In the Night of the Light, for the Dark” and “Ethereal Disillusion” (bassline in the latter) with a clarity of purpose and sureness that builds even on what the trio accomplished with 2019’s Hymns for the Damned (review here), opening with the longest track (immediate points) “Malevolent Inveigler” and setting up a devil-as-metaphor-for-now lyrical bent alongside the roll of “In the Night of the Light, for the Dark” and the chugging-through-mud “Devil’s Spawn.” Separated by the “Planet Caravan”-y instrumental “Sectatores et Principes,” the final three tracks are relatively shorter than the first four, but there’s still space for a bass-backed organ solo in “Ceremonial Aspersion,” and the particularly Electric Wizardian “Divine Harlotry” leads effectively into the closer “Lucifierian Rite,” which caps with surprising bounce in its apex and underscores the level of songwriting throughout. Just a band nailing their sound, that’s all. Seems like maybe the kind of party you’d want to be on time for.

Hazemaze on Facebook

Heavy Psych Sounds store

—

 

Elephant Tree, Track by Track

Released as a name-your-price benefit EP in July to help raise funds for the Ukrainian war effort, Track by Track is two songs London’s Elephant Tree recorded at the Netherlands’ Sonic Whip Festival in May of this year, “Sails” and “The Fall Chorus” — here just “Fall Chorus” — from 2020’s Habits (review here), on which the four-piece is joined by cellist Joe Butler and violinst Charlie Davis, fleshing out especially the quieter “Fall Chorus,” but definitely making their presence felt on “Sails” as well in accompanying what was one of Habits‘ strongest hooks. And the strings are all well and good, but the live harmonies on “Sails” between guitarist Jack Townley, bassist Peter Holland and guitarist/keyboardist John Slattery — arriving atop the e’er-reliable fluidity of Sam Hart‘s drumming — are perhaps even more of a highlight. Was the whole set recorded? If so, where’s that? “Fall Chorus” is more subdued and atmospheric, but likewise gorgeous, the cello and violin lending an almost Americana feel to the now-lush second-half bridge of the acoustic track. Special band, moment worth capturing, cause worth supporting. The classic no-brainer purchase.

Elephant Tree on Facebook

Elephant Tree on Bandcamp

—

 

Mirror Queen, Inviolate

Between Telekinetic Yeti, Mythic Sunship and Limousine Beach (not to mention Comet Control last year), Tee Pee Records has continued to offer distinct and righteous incarnations of heavy rock, and Mirror Queen‘s classic-prog-influenced strutter riffs on Inviolate fit right in. The long-running project led by guitarist/vocalist Kenny Kreisor (also the head of Tee Pee) and drummer Jeremy O’Brien is bolstered through the lead guitar work of Morgan McDaniel (ex-The Golden Grass) and the smooth low end of bassist James Corallo, and five years after 2017’s Verdigris (review here), their flowing heavy progressive rock nudges into the occult on “The Devil Seeks Control” while maintaining its ’70s-rock-meets-’80s-metal gallop, and hard-boogies in the duly shredded “A Rider on the Rain,” where experiments both in vocal effects and Mellotron sounds work well next to proto-thrash urgency. Proggers like “Inside an Icy Light,” “Sea of Tranquility” and the penultimate “Coming Round with Second Sight” show the band in top form, comfortable in tempo but still exploring, and they finish with the title-track’s highlight chorus and a well-layered, deceptively immersive wash of melody. Can’t and wouldn’t ask for more than they give here; Inviolate is a tour de force for Mirror Queen, demonstrating plainly what NYC club shows have known since the days when Aytobach Kreisor roamed the earth two decades ago.

Mirror Queen on Facebook

Tee Pee Records store

—

 

Faetooth, Remnants of the Vessel

Los Angeles-based four-piece Faetooth — guitarist/vocalist Ashla Chavez Razzano, bassist/vocalist Jenna Garcia, guitarist/vocalist Ari May, drummer Rah Kanan — make their full-length debut through Dune Altar with the atmospheric sludge doom of Remnants of the Vessel, meeting post-apocalyptic vibes as intro “(i) Naissance” leads into initial single “Echolalia,” the more spaced-out “La Sorcie|Cre” (or something like that; I think my filename got messed up) and the yet-harsher doom of “She Cast a Shadow” before the feedback-soaked interlude “(ii) Limbo” unfurls its tortured course. Blending clean croons and more biting screams assures a lack of predictability as they roll through “Remains,” the black metal-style cave echo there adding to the extremity in a way that the subsequent “Discarnate” pushes even further ahead of the nodding, you’re-still-doomed heavy-gaze of “Strange Ways.” They save the epic for last, however, with “(iii) Moribund” a minute-long organ piece leading directly into “Saturn Devouring His Son,” a nine-and-a-half-minute willful lurch toward an apex that has the majesty of death-doom and a crux of melody that doesn’t just shout out Faetooth‘s forward potential but also points to what they’ve already accomplished on Remnants of the Vessel. If this band tours, look out.

Faetooth on Facebook

Dune Altar on Bandcamp

—

 

Behold! The Monolith, From the Fathomless Deep

Ferocious and weighted in kind, Behold! The Monolith‘s fourth full-length and first for Ripple Music, From the Fathomless Deep finds the Los Angeles trio taking cues from progressive death metal and riff-based sludge in with a modern severity of purpose that is unmistakably heavy. Bookended by opener “Crown/The Immeasurable Void” (9:31) and closer “Stormbreaker Suite” (11:35), the six-track/45-minute offering — the band’s first since 2015’s Architects of the Void (review here) — brims with extremity and is no less intense in the crawling “Psychlopean Dread” than on the subsequent ripper “Spirit Taker” or its deathsludge-rocking companion “This Wailing Blade,” calling to mind some of what Yatra have been pushing on the opposite coast until the solo hits. The trades between onslaughts and acoustic parts are there but neither overdone nor overly telegraphed, and “The Seams of Pangea” (8:56) pairs evocative ambience with crushing volume and comes out sounding neither hackneyed nor overly poised. Extreme times call for extreme riffs? Maybe, but the bludgeoning on offer in From the Fathomless Deep speaks to a push into darkness that’s been going on over a longer term. Consuming.

Behold! The Monolith on Facebook

Ripple Music website

—

 

The Swell Fellas, Novaturia

The second album from Nashville’s The Swell Fellas — who I’m sure are great guys — the five-song/32-minute Novaturia encapsulates an otherworldly atmosphere laced with patient effects soundscapes, echo and moody presence, but is undeniably heavy, the opener “Something’s There…” drawing the listener deeper into “High Lightsolate,” the eight-plus minutes of which roll out with technical intricacy bent toward an outward impression of depth, a solo in the midsection carrying enough scorch for the LP as a whole but still just part of the song’s greater procession, which ends with percussive nuance and vocal melody before giving way to the acoustic interlude “Caesura,” a direct lead-in for the noisy arrival of the okay-now-we-riff “Wet Cement.” The single-ready penultimate cut is a purposeful banger, going big at its finish only after topping its immediate rhythmic momentum with ethereal vocals for a progressive effect, and as elliptically-bookending finisher “…Another Realm” nears 11 minutes, its course is its own in manifesting prior shadows of progressive and atmospheric heavy rock into concrete, crafted realizations. There’s even some more shred for good measure, brought to bear with due spaciousness through Mikey Allred‘s production. It’s a quick offering, but offers substance and reach beyond its actual runtime. They’re onto something, and I think they know it, too.

The Swell Fellas on Facebook

The Swell Fellas on Bandcamp

—

 

Stockhausen & the Amplified Riot, Era of the Inauthentic

For years, it has seemed Houston-based guitarist/songwriter Paul Chavez (Funeral Horse, Cactus Flowers, Baby Birds, Art Institute) has searched for a project able to contain his weirdo impulses. Stockhausen & the Amplified Riot — begun with Era of the Inauthentic as a solo-project plus — is the latest incarnation of this effort, and its krautrock-meets-hooky-proto-punk vibe indeed wants nothing for weird. “Adolescent Lightning” and “Hunky Punk” are a catchy opening salvo, and “What if it Never Ends” provokes a smile by garage-rock riffing over a ’90s dance beat to a howling finish, while the 11-minute “Tilde Mae” turns early-aughts indie jangle into a maddeningly repetitive mindfuck for its first nine minutes, mercifully shifting into a less stomach-clenching groove for the remainder before closer “Intubation Blues” melds more dance beats with harmonica and last sweep. Will the band, such as it is, at last be a home for Chavez over the longer term, or is it merely another stop on the way? I don’t know. But there’s no one else doing what he does here, and since the goal seems to be individualism and experimentalism, both those ideals are upheld to an oddly charming degree. Approach without expectations.

Artificial Head Records on Facebook

Artificial Head Records on Bandcamp

—

 

Nothing is Real, The End is Near

Nothing is Real stand ready to turn mundane miseries into darkly ethereal noise, drawing from sludge and an indefinable litany of extreme metals. The End is Near is both the Los Angeles unit’s most cohesive work to-date and its most accomplished, building on the ambient mire of earlier offerings with a down-into-the-ground churn on lead single “THE (Pt. 2).” All of the songs, incidentally, comprise the title of the album, with four of “THE” followed by two “END” pieces, two “IS”es and three “NEAR”s to close. An maybe-unhealthy dose of sample-laced interlude-type works — each section has an intro, and so on — assure that Nothing is Real‘s penchant for atmospheric crush isn’t misplaced, and the band’s uptick in production value means that the vastness and blackened psychedelia of 10-minute centerpiece “END” shows the abyssal depths being plunged in their starkest light. Capping with “NEAR (Pt. 1),” jazzy metal into freneticism, back to jazzy metal, and “NEAR (Pt. 2),” epic shred emerging from hypnotic ambience, like Jeff Hanneman ripping open YOB, The End is Near resonates with a sickened intensity that, again, it shares in common with the band’s past work, but is operating at a new level of complexity across its intentionally unmanageable 63 minutes. Nothing is Real is on their own wavelength and it is a place of horror.

Nothing is Real on Facebook

Nothing is Real on Bandcamp

—

 

Red Lama, Memory Terrain

Copenhagen heavy psych collective Red Lama — and I’m sorry, but if you’ve got more than five people in your band, you’re a collective — brim with pastoral escapism throughout Memory Terrain, their third album and the follow-up to 2018’s Motions (discussed here) and its companion EP, Dogma (review here). Progressive in texture but with an open sensibility at their core, pieces like the title-track unfold long-song breadth in accessible spans, the earlier “Airborne” moving from the jazzy beginning of “Gentleman” into a more tripped-out All Them Witches vein. Elsewhere, “Someone” explores krautrock intricacies before synthing toward its last lines, and “Paint a Picture” exudes pop urgency before washing it away on a repeating, sweeping tide. Range and dynamic aren’t new for Red Lama, but I’m hard-pressed to think of as dramatic a one-two turn as the psych-wash-into-electro-informed-dance-brood that takes place between “Shaking My Bones” and “Chaos is the Plan” — lest one neglect the urbane shuffle of “Justified” prior — though by that point Red Lama have made it apparent they’re ready to lead the listener wherever whims may dictate. That’s a significant amount of ground to cover, but they do it.

Red Lama on Facebook

Red Lama on Bandcamp

—

 

Echolot, Curatio

Existing in multiple avenues of progressive heavy rock and extreme metal, Echolot‘s Curatio only has four tracks, but each of those tracks has more range than the career arcs of most bands. Beginning with two 10-minute tracks in “Burden of Sorrows” (video premiered here) and “Countess of Ice,” they set a pattern of moving between melancholic heavy prog and black metal, the latter piece clearer in telegraphing its intentions after the opener, and introducing its “heavy part” to come with clean vocals overtop in the middle of the song, dramatic and fiery as it is. “Resilience of Floating Forms” (a mere 8:55) begins quiet and works into a post-black metal wash of melody before the double-kick and screams take hold, announcing a coming attack that — wait for it — doesn’t actually come, the band instead moving into falsetto and a more weighted but still clean verse before peeling back the curtain on the death growls and throatrippers, cymbals threatening to engulf all but still letting everything else cut through. Also eight minutes, “Wildfire” closes by flipping the structure of the opening salvo, putting the nastiness at the fore while progging out later, in this case closing Curatio with a winding movement of keys and an overarching groove that is only punishing for the fact that it’s the end. If you ever read a Quarterly Review around here, you know I like to do myself favors on the last day in choosing what to cover. It is no coincidence that Curatio is included. Not every record could be #100 and still make you excited to hear it.

Echolot on Facebook

Sixteentimes Music store

—

 

The underlying experimentalism of Venetian Veil‘s new single “The Lamb” is there in the foundation of the song’s dying-light ambience. A 15-years-running collaboration from Sacramento, California — Susan Hunt and Jim Willig, hi — they put atmosphere ahead of traditionalism throughout the impending The Lands of the Living and the Dead, which is more substantive in flow and makeup than an EP but perhaps less in runtime than one commonly expects a full album to be; though perhaps we can just call it a “release” and chalk up one more convention being thoughtfully thwarted.

Mood is the defining current in “The Lamb,” but there is percussive movement in a kind of linear build as well, peppered through with wistfully cinematic keyboard and a purposefully understated figure of electric guitar. There’s a lift to the end some of Hunt‘s lines that reminds of Patrick Walker on the last 40 Watt Sun, but that’s more likely sonic coincidence than any influence either way, the two parties operating in largely different spheres.

But “The Lamb” doesn’t necessarily speak for the entirety of The Lands of the Living and the Dead — out Nov. 11 on Dune Altar with vinyl to follow — as “Quiver” just before rests on electronic pulsations and finds Willig on lead vocals, opener “Asleep in the Land of the Living” starts the release with a threat of feedback and exploratory but not necessarily harsh guitar noise, and the later “Awake in the Land of the Dead” drones pastoral ahead of the soundtracky “Treeline” and the Badalamenti-style brood-gaze “Phantom,” a subsequent remix of which closes. Still, life is short and the dictates of promotion are such that (most of the time) one doesn’t actually put out an entire offering while announcing it, so here we are. “The Lamb” offers intrigue and mystique, and in that and its patience certainly represents the rest of what surrounds.

I’d advise finding out for your sweet self on the player below which is followed by the aforementioned release announcement.

Enjoy:

VENETIAN VEIL is a creative duo from Sacramento, California, who, over the course of the last decade, have released a string of EPs and albums exploring a vast array of dark and ethereal sounds.

Having already started playing together in 2007 in the experimental post-metal band (Waning), Jim Willig (Lament Cityscape, Audioemetic) and Susan Hunt began releasing music as Venetian Veil in 2010. From the gothic kosmische instrumentals of their Conjurings audio cassette series and live film scores, to their more song-oriented albums fusing ambient, goth, and shoegaze sounds, the band has actualized their own virtual world of sound: the sounds of sleep transmissions from the minds of another world.

With their upcoming mini-album THE LANDS OF THE LIVING AND THE DEAD, Venetian Veil weaves a tapestry of sound that could be described as minimilist-Morricone meets post-goth folk with the patience of Steve Von Till and the melancholic worldly beauty of Dead Can Dance. The album will enter the land of the living on 11.11.2022. Make a wish.

https://www.facebook.com/venetianveil
https://www.instagram.com/venetianveil
https://venetianveil.bandcamp.com/
https://www.venetianveil.com/

http://www.facebook.com/dunealtar
http://instagram.com/dunealtar
http://www.dunealtar.com/

Venetian Veil, Conjurings Vol. 3 (2022)

You have your coffee yet? I’ve got mine. Today’s Friday, which means day five of this six-day Spring 2022 Quarterly Review, and it’s been a hell of a week. Yesterday was particularly insane, and today offers not much letup in that regard. If you’d have it another way, I’m sorry, but there’s too much cool shit out there to write about stuff that all sounds the same, so I don’t. I’ve had a good time over this stretch and I hope you have too if you’ve been keeping up. We’ll have one more on Monday and that’s it until late June or early July, so please enjoy.

And thanks as always for reading.

Quarterly Review #41-50:

Pike vs. the Automaton, Pike vs. The Automaton

Matt Pike acoustic? It happened, and YOU were there! Truth is, the strumming foundation on which “Land” is built is just one example of Pike vs. The Automaton‘s singular get-weirdness, and followers of his career arc through Sleep and High on Fire from playing basements to winning a Grammy will recognize pieces of cuts like “Abusive” and “Trapped in a Midcave,” the all-out rager “Alien Slut Mom” (which of course was the lead single), the bombastic expanse of “Apollyon,” the even-more-all-out-rager “Acid Test Zone” and the dug-in get-weirdness of “Latin American Geological Formation” as one of heavy music’s most influential auteurs welcomes (?) listeners into a world of swirling chaos, monsters, conspiracies and, of course, riffs. The album saves its greatest accomplishment for last in the 11-minute “Leaving the Wars of Woe,” but if you’re old enough to remember when Rob Zombie did those off-the-wall cartoons for White Zombie videos and the Beavis and Butt-Head movie, listening to Pike vs. the Automaton is kind of like living in that for a while. So yeah, awesome.

Pike vs. The Automaton website

MNRK Heavy website

—

 

End Boss, They Seek My Head

Maybe the heaviest sans-bass low end since Floor? That’s not a minor claim, but at very least Wellington, New Zealand’s End Boss put themselves in the running with They Seek My Head, their debut album. The guitars of Greg Broadmore and Christian Pearce are the crushing foundation on which the band is built, and with Beastwars‘ own Nathan Hickey on drums, there’s a reliable base of groove to coincide as all that weight becomes the backdrop for E.J. Thorpe‘s vocals to soar over top on cuts like “Heart of the Sickle” and “Punished.” It’s a wide breadth throughout the eight songs and 33 minutes, allowing “Becomes the Gold” to show some emotive urgency while “Nail and Tooth” seems only to be sharpening knives at the outset of side B, while “The Crawl” just about has to be named after its riff and fair enough. “Lorded Over” hints at an atmospheric focus that may or may not further manifest in the future, but the closing title-track is what it’s all about, and it’s big nod, big melody, big hooks. You can’t lose. Onto the ‘best debuts of 2022’ it goes.

End Boss on Facebook

Rough Peel Records website

—

 

Artifacts & Uranium, Pancosmology

Fred Laird (Earthling Society, Taras Bulba) and Mike Vest (Bong, Blown Out, etc.) released their self-titled debut as Artifacts & Uranium in 2021 as a collection of three massive dronescapes. Their follow-up, Pancosmology, telegraphs being more compositionally-focused even before you put it on, running eight songs instead of three, and indeed, that’s how it turns out. There are still massive waves of exploratory drones, guitar, electric piano, drums programmed and real — Nick Raybould plays on half the tracks, so a potential third in the duo — synth, bass, whatever a Gakken Generator is, it all comes together with an understated splendor and a sense of reaching into the unknown. Witness the guitar and synth lines of “Silent Plains,” and are those vocals buried so deep in that mix? I can’t even tell. It doesn’t matter. The point is that for 37 minutes, Laird and Vest (and Raybould) take you on a psych-as-spirituality trip into, around and through the universe, and by the time they get to “The Inmost Light” noisewashing at the finish, the feeling is like being baptised in a cold river of acid. If this is the birth of the gods, I’m in.

Taras Bulba on Facebook

Echodelick Records website

Weird Beard Records webstore

—

 

Night City, Kuang Xi

After the slower rolling opener “Broken Dick,” Night City‘s debut cassette EP, Kuang Xi, works at a pretty intense clip, taking the Godflesh vibe of that lead track, keeping the abiding tonal thickness, and imbuing it with an also-’90s-era Ministry-ish sense of chaos and push. The four-song outing works from its longest track to shortest and effectively melds heavy industrial with brutal chug and extreme metal, and one should expect no less from Collyn McCoy, whose plumbing of the dark recesses of the mind in Circle of Sighs is a bit more purely experimentalist. That said, if “Encryptor/Decryptor” showed up as a Circle of Sighs track, I wouldn’t have argued, but the use of samples here throughout and the explicitly sociopolitical lyrics make for coherent themes separate from McCoy‘s other project. “Steppin’ Razor” uses its guitar solo like a skronky bagpipe while calling out Proud Boy bullshit, and in fewer than three minutes, “Molly Million$” finds another gear of thrust before devolving into so much caustic noise. The version I got also featured the dancier “Tomorrow’s World,” but I’m not sure if that’s on the tape. Either way, a brutalist beginning.

Night City on Facebook

Dune Altar website

—

 

Friends of Hell, Friends of Hell

Rise Above Records signing a band that might even loosely be called doom is immediately noteworthy because it means the band in question has impressed label owner Lee Dorrian, formerly of Cathedral, who — let’s be honest — has some of the best taste in music the world over. Thus Friends of Hell unleash 40 minutes of dirt-coated earliest-NWOBHM-meets-Celtic–Frost chugging groove, with former Electric Wizard bassist Tasos Danazoglou (currently Mirror) on drums and Sami “Albert Witchfinder” Hynninen (Spiritus Mortis, Reverend Bizarre, Opium Warlords) on vocals, biting through catchy classic-sounding cuts like “Into My Coffin” and side B’s “Gateless Gate” and “Orion’s Beast.” Unremittingly dark, the nine-song collection ends with “Wallachia,” a somewhat grander take that still keeps its rawness of tone and general purpose with a more spacious vibe. It is not a coincidence Friends of Hell take their name from a Witchfinder General record; their sound seems like prime fodder for patch-on-denim worship.

Friends of Hell on Instagram

Rise Above Records website

—

 

Delco Detention, What Lies Beneath

The second full-length keeping on a literally-underground theme from 2021’s From the Basement (review here), the 10-song/35-minute What Lies Beneath finds founding Delco Detention guitarist Tyler Pomerantz once again getting by with a little help from his friends, up to and including members of Hippie Death Cult — Eddie Brnabic shreds over instrumental closer “FUMOFO” — The Age of Truth, Kingsnake and others. Angelique Zuppo makes a highlight of early cut “Rock Paper Scissors,” and Dave Wessell of Ickarus Gin brings a performance that well suits the strut-fuzz of “War is Mine,” while instrumentals “What Lies Beneath” and “Velcro Shoes” find Tyler (on bass and guitar) and drummer Adam Pomerantz digging into grooves just fine on their own. The shifts between singers give a compilation-style feel continued on from the first record, but a unifying current of songwriting brings it all together fluidly, and as “A Slow Burn” and “Study Hall Blues” readily demonstrate, Delco Detention know how to take a riff out for a walk. Right on (again).

Delco Detention on YouTube

Delco Detention on Bandcamp

—

 

Room 101, Sightless

Put Lansing, Michigan’s Room 101 up there with Primitive Man, Indian and any other extreme-sludge touchstone you want and their debut long-player, Sightless, will hold its own in terms of sheer, concrete-tone crushing force. In answering the potential of 2019’s The Burden EP (review here), the album offsets its sheer bludgeoning with stretches of quiet-tense atmospherics, “Boarded Window” offering a momentary respite before the onslaught begins anew. This balance is further fleshed out on longer tracks like “Dead End,” with a more extended break and the title-cut with its ending guitar lead, but neither the sub-five-minute “Windowlicker” nor “Boarded Window” earlier want for mood, and even the finale “The Innocent, the Ignorant and the Insecure” brings a feeling of cohesion to its violence. This shit is lethal, to be sure, but it’s also immersive. Watch out you don’t drown in it.

Room 101 on Facebook

Room 101 on Bandcamp

—

 

Hydra, Beyond Life and Death

Heralded by the prior single “With the Devil Hand in Hand” (posted here), which is positioned as the closer of the 41-minute five-tracker, Hydra‘s second full-length, Beyond Life and Death, finds the Polish four-piece pushing deeper into doomed traditionalism. Where their 2020 debut, From Light to the Abyss (review here), had a garage-ist edge, and if you work hard, you can still hear some of that just before the organ kicks in near the end of “On the Edge of Time” (if that’s a “Children of the Sea” reference we can be friends), but after the more gallop-prone opener “Prophetic Dreams” and the penultimate “Path of the Dark”‘s whoa-oh backing vocals, the crux of what they’re doing is more NWOBHM-influenced, and blending with the cult horror lyrical themes of centerpiece “The Unholy Ceremony” or the aforementioned closer, it gives Hydra a more confident sound and a more poised approach to doom than they had just two years ago. The adjusted balance of elements in their sound suits them, and they seem quickly to be carving out a place for themselves in Poland’s crowded scene.

Hydra on Facebook

Piranha Music on Bandcamp

—

 

E-L-R, Vexier

The two 12-minute tracks “Opiate the Sun” and “Foret” bookend Swiss trio E-L-R‘s second LP for Prophecy Productions, Vexier, and the intention would seem to be plain in hooking and immersing the listener in the experience and flow of the album. Like their wildly impressive 2019 debut, Mænad (review here), this collection has plenty of post-metallic elements, and there’s specifically a post-black metal bent to “Three Winds” in its earliest going — by the midsection it’s come apart into broad, open spaces, but the rush comes back — and the centerpiece and shortest track, “Seeds,” which seems to shine even brighter in its melody than the opener, as the vocals are once more presented on a level plane with the rest of the atmospheric elements, far back in the mix but not at all lacking resonance for being vague. “Seeds” is a fitting summary, but “Fleurs of Decay” leans into the expectation of something harsher and “Foret” boasts a more complex linear build, stretches of drone and a broader vocal arrangement before bringing the record to its gentle finish. I liked the first record a lot. I like this one more. E-L-R are doing something with sound that no one else quite has the same kind of handle on, however familiar the elements making it up might be. They are a better band than people yet know.

E-L-R on Facebook

Prophecy Productions store

—

 

Buffalo Tombs, III

Titled Three or III, depending where you look, the third long-player from Denver instrumental heavy rockers Buffalo Tombs follows relatively hot on the heels of the second, Two (review here), which came out last October. Spearheaded by guitarist/bassist Eric Stuart, who also recorded the instrumentation sans Patrick Haga‘s own self-recorded drums (lockdown? depends on when it was) and mixed and mastered — Joshua Lafferty also adds bass to “Ancestors” and “Monument,” which are just two of the six contemplations here as Buffalo Tombs explores an inward-looking vision of heavy sounds and styles, not afraid to shove or chug a bit on “Swarm” or “Gnostics/Haint,” but more consistently mellow in mood and dug into its own procession. “Familiars” hints at aspects of heavy Americana, but the root expression on III comes across as more personal and that feeling of intimacy suits well the mood of the songs.

Buffalo Tombs on Facebook

Buffalo Tombs on Bandcamp

—

 

The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.

Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.

Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.

The Obelisk Questionnaire: Collyn McCoy of Circle of Sighs & Night City

—

How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?

I’ve recently come to terms with the fact that what I do probably fits best into a “composer/producer” box. For a long time I considered myself a bassist who just happened to write some tunes. A “band dude” in other words. But then there was a stretch, from about 2017 to 2021, when I really wasn’t playing much bass at all. I was making a lot of music, in a lot of different projects, but only a bit of it involved four strings tuned way down low. So I figured maybe “bassist” isn’t what I should lead with.

Coming to terms with that fact happened to coincide with “composing” and “producing” becoming a much bigger part of what I do vocationally. I produce a good deal of music for video games, which involves a bit of composing (and performing), but mostly finding talent, booking studios, and following the head chef’s recipe to ensure that the soup gets made to everyone’s liking. But I’ve been doing some film composing as well and in fact I just finished the score to a very fun (and bloody violent) horror film that will be hitting the festival circuit soon. I can’t say much more but if you like Goblin, Tangerine Dream, Vangelis, and John Carpenter, the score is right in that wheelhouse.

But even a lot of the “avocational” music I make (i.e. my own shit) really doesn’t easily fit in a band box. I mean I get an idea and I make it happen but is it something I’m going to play out? Do I need to put together a new band and go play shows for every thing I do? Do I need to make shirts, sell merch, do a van tour? I mean I would love to, but that seems exhausting. Tommy Meehan from Deaf Club, Cancer Christ, etc etc seems to pull it off, plus make music for a bunch of cool cartoons my daughter loves, but he’s a bit younger than me and also, I’m pretty sure, super-human.

All that said, the Night City live iteration is coming together nicely and will soon be a thing.

Describe your first musical memory.

My dad was a musician — a bassist actually — so there were always musical instruments and musicians around the house. I remember my dad’s friends coming over for a jam session — jazz stuff, standards mostly — and I was bangin’ along on a little electric piano in the corner and to my toddler ears, it worked. Dad’s friends seemed to agree, or at least they were stoned enough that it worked for them in an Ornette Coleman sort of way. Beyond that, though — and this is a very very clear musical memory — it was hearing Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love” while going to day care in my dad’s Volkswagen Camper Van. That breakdown section gave me chills, and still does. I don’t care if it’s supposed to be Robert Plant jizzing. It’s musical magic.

Describe your best musical memory to date.

DesertFest UK and DesertFest Germany with Ultra Electric Mega Galactic were both fantastic experiences. I’ve played to bigger crowds — a few anyway — but none more appreciative and “on the same page.”

There were a few Aboleth shows that were really special — Clarksville, TN, comes to mind. We were a new-ish band and our album had only been out about a week but there were people singing along to every word. Gave me the feelz.

Also, I did play bass live on network TV with Tony Danza — not the tech-metal band but the actual Tony Danza — which crossed something off a bucket list I didn’t know I had.

But lately, it’s when I take my daughter to her piano class and hear the massive leaps in progress that she makes each week. I get moist eyeballs every time. Every. Damn. Time.

When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?

I gave up on firmly held beliefs a long time ago. They never work out. But I suppose accepting the fact that I’m a lot more flawed of a human being than I thought I would be by now, as a middle-aged dude — but that that’s actually OKAY — was a sort of breakthrough.

Where do you feel artistic progression leads?

I honestly don’t know but I’m dying to find out. I’ve been on this journey for a long-ass time and I feel like I’m discovering new things all the time. It’s like a video game where you think you beat the final boss only to realize that was just the end of the first level. Sorry, I’ve been working on games long enough that I’m starting to think in those terms.

How do you define success?

Contentment. Satisfaction. It’s not even happiness necessarily — not everyone is happy or meant to be happy all the time — but just knowing that you hit one out of the park in a way that can always hold up as an example of achieving what you want to achieve.

What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?

A Serbian Film. Without hyperbole I can say that a part of me died when I saw that movie. The Trump Years, especially the pandemic portion of that, had a similar effect on me — just that gross realization that humanity is a lot more nihilistic, self-destructive, hateful, and stupid than I previously had thought.

Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.

I have some really big fuckin’ ideas for Circle of Sighs and I’ve barely scratched the surface of what I want that project to become. It was never meant to be a band. A creative collective, sure, and music would be a part of what that collective creates. But I always envisioned CoS as more of a touring multimedia event that draws from a whole bunch of disciplines — visual art, theater, video, projection mapping, dance, even mime. And I’m zero percent joking about the mime thing and in fact we recently starting incorporating mime into our live show and believe it or not it was really well received. But CoS, in its ideal final form, will be a lot more like Blue Man Group, Mummenchanz, or Cirque Du Soliel than say Black Label Society. I shouldn’t even need to be on the stage. Anyone should be able to pick up the gauntlet and run with it.

I mean a production like that would take a lot of money, and that’s not a thing that I have a lot of, but perhaps some investor or grantor would allow it to happen. Never say never!

What do you believe is the most essential function of art?

Expressing something that can’t be better expressed — or understood — any other way.

Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?

Hanging out with friends and not having to mask up. Seeing them laugh with their actual mouth holes, hearing them speak not through a wall of microfibre. I mean I was bullish on masks and still am when necessary, but I missed seeing my friends visages and it’s great that I’m starting to again.

I’m looking forward to watching my daughter grow up just so long as it doesn’t happen too fast.

And I look forward to seeing Yob tonight. Which is not musical so much as it is spiritual. I mean I’m not a religious guy by any means, but I’ve seen Yob probably 100 times and it is exactly the same as every beatific event I’ve ever read about — enlightenment, “seeing the light,” holy bliss, ego death — it’s all that and more. But, like, fuckin’ doom.

https://www.facebook.com/NightCity666
https://www.instagram.com/nightcity666/
http://www.facebook.com/dunealtar
http://instagram.com/dunealtar
http://www.dunealtar.com/

https://www.facebook.com/circleofsighs/
https://circleofsighs.bandcamp.com/
https://circleofsighs.com/
https://metalassault.bandcamp.com/
http://facebook.com/metalassaultla
http://instagram.com/metalassault

Night City, Kuang Xi teaser

Circle of Sighs, “His Box”

Ah man, this is pretty cool. The namechecks below are right on. I hear exactly the part in “Molly Million$” that is the source of the Ministry comparison. Night City is another guise in the increasing number of them from Los Angeles-based Collyn McCoy, known for Circle of Sighs (on whose record I got to guest last year or was it the year before?), Aboleth, Diesel Boots, Trash Titan, The UEMG and so on, and it leans to the industrial side of the dark atmospheres one might expect from Circle of Sighs. There’s a lot going on with it and no tracks streaming yet — I think I had a request in to do a stream? — but a teaser is live and you’ll find it at the bottom of the post.

Also, I think this is like the 33rd post today? They’re not in order of preference or anything, don’t worry. But really, I think this might be number eight or nine on the day. I gotta look.

Oh the things you think about when the beats start to get crushing.

Anyone out there doing laundry?

From the PR wire:

Night City – Kuang Xi

Dealing in Godfleshian cyber-brutality, NIGHT CITY is an industrial/sludge metal project from multi-instrumentalist Collyn McCoy (Circle of Sighs, Aboleth). Anarchist, anti-authoritarian, and anti-capitalist, this project draws thematically from near-future dystopian speculation–think the gritty and disaffected cyberpunk worlds of William Gibson, Neal Stephenson, and Phillip K. Dick. Mirroring the unfiltered harshness of these literary visions, Night City sonically recalls such benchmark acts as Throbbing Gristle, Swans, Ministry, Author & Punisher, and Killing Joke. Perhaps most consequential, however, is the unrelentingly heavy formula established by the aforementioned Godflesh.

In the world of Night City, machines grind bones. Obsolete technologies gain sentience, taking their revenge against the selfish creators who abandoned them. It is an undoubtedly grisly affair. While occupying this unique aesthetic arena, Night City seeks to bring industrial metal back to its aesthetic roots and the implicit harshness and leftist politics demonstrated by the progenitors of the style, all while moving the genre forward in terms of production and sheer heft. To this end, Night City’s debut EP – the four-track Kuang XI – will be released March 11th via Dune Altar, an LA-based label defined by a demonstrated willingness to release music across an eclectic spectrum. The title itself is a dual reference to the Mandarin phrase for “crazy happy,” as well as the computer virus featured in Gibson’s Neuromancer. At risk of making a statement, Kuang XI is the opening salvo of the Next Wave of American Industrial Metal.

Night City sits at the cross-section of two impulses. On one hand is McCoy’s desire to recreate the overwhelming sensation of encountering industrial metal for the first time. On the other is a drive to write music with politics at the core–anarcho-socialism, post-capitalism, toxic media, social media, climate change, workers’ rights, the reemergence of global fascism, and revolution are all topics and targets of the Night City lens. The result of this thematic, intellectual, and sonic conglomerate? A blunt soundtrack for rage and revolt. A digital death rattle for a rancid, dystopian world.

March 11, 2022 on Dune Altar.

NIGHT CITY
Kuang XI

a1. Broken Dick
a2. Encryptor/Decryptor
a3. Steppin’ Razor
a4. Molly Million$

program repeats on side B

https://www.facebook.com/NightCity666
https://www.instagram.com/nightcity666/
http://www.facebook.com/dunealtar
http://instagram.com/dunealtar
http://www.dunealtar.com/

Night City, Kuang Xi teaser

Los Angeles four-piece Deathchant issue their self-titled debut on Jan. 10 through King Volume Records (LP) and Dune Altar (tape), and there’s some weird shit afoot. So, get this: Seven tracks/29 minutes. On the shorter end of an LP, but whatever. All the songs have one-word titles, so you’d think maybe pretty stripped down, right? And it’s Southern California, so you’d think maybe some boogie involved or some jams, right? Not really. Deathchant, led by guitarist/vocalist TJ Lemieux, make short work of expectation and offer a feedback-drenched take on darker heavy rock, so that even the strut of opener “Pessimist” can just absolutely collapse into biting noise at a moment’s notice — which it does — and then resume its course like nothing happened. There are “hey wait!” moments like that all over the album, and to add to that, Lemiuex‘s vocals are coated in reverb — he did similarly his band Child (who are not to be confused with the Australian blues rockers of the same name) — in such a way that in context of some of the severity surrounding feels like a tip of the hat to Wovenhand that immediately gives the songs a distinguishing element. There’s no shortage of groove to go around in “Pessimist” or elsewhere, and as the album unfolds with “Control” and “Ritual” — which as I understand it was going to be the title-track at one point — there is a linear character to the transitions that the noise-factor only helps further.

Side A of the LP is those three songs: “Pessimist,” “Control” and “Ritual,” and the momentum factor isn’t to be understated. While Deathchant is short, and was recorded live obviously in an effort to capture an energetic vibe (easy to argue success there), the material doesn’t sound any more rushed than they want it to, and they’re in control the whole time of the thrust, which particularly as the drifting centerpiece “Eulogy” takes hold on side B and turns its wash over to the unbridled push of “Breathe,” “Hex” and closer “Trigger,” is key. Every song on the second half of the record is shorter than anything on the first, and it’s almost as though the band swapped out what would be the usual tack for an A/B long-player, putting the up-front rockers in back and the more ranging material up front, “Eulogy” notwithstanding. Either way, even at their most driving, in the forward pummel and tonal crush of “Breathe” or the chugga-shuffle of “Hex,” they hold firm to the atmosphere created by the earlier cuts, so that the most rocking of tracks is still imbued with a darker underlying spirit. As “Trigger” surges outward in go-go-go fashion before cutting to a closing minute-plus of eerie sampled noise and far-away guitar, the core blend of Deathchant‘s aesthetic is maintained — it is volatile, exciting and unpredictable. These are not words I use lightly.

Lemieux, who’s responsible for the songwriting and joined in the band by John Bolino, Colin Fahrner and George Camacho, also helped to mix the recording which was engineered by Stephen Schroeder (who also mastered it), has been and is involved in a number of projects, but Deathchant find their footing quickly on their self-titled, and potential abounds for further exploration, and the lean nature of Deathchant itself only furthers interest in how their ethic will develop over the longer term.

Want the short version? Cool track. Give it a listen:

Recorded live over a 2 day period at a secluded cabin in Big Bear, California. Mixed by TJ Lemieux and Stephen Schroeder. Engineered and Mastered by Stephen Schroeder. All Songs & words by TJ Lemieux. Copyright 2018 RAGWEED.

DEATHCHANT is the brainchild of TJ Lemieux (CHILD, Psychedelic speed freaks, Mainline ladies, Babylon) formed in 2018 in Los Angeles, CA. They have been dubbed Psychedelic rock, proto-metal, doom, stoner metal, noise-punk, hard rock, and everything in between, but if you ask them it’s “rock and roll with psychedelic influences.” Their imagery and sound seem to fluctuate rapidly between a peaceful meditative eastern-tinged message of unity and all out warcry with an underlying message of love and peace-through-violence.

Driven by Thomas (TJ) Lemieux’s brooding aesthetic and signature psychedelic guitar character, DEATHCHANT echoes through the darker side of Proto-metal and hard rock. Reflections of past endeavors from TJ Lemieux, John Bolino, Colin Fahrner, and George Camacho (Roast, psychedelic speed freaks, high rise, Babylon) cascade into an immersive wall of noise-induced heavy metal mania, equal parts paranoia and transcendental harmony. These four create a sound that is loud, massive, and about as melodic as a sonic assault of this magnitude can be. They resonate with wherever or whoever you are and deliver an excitingly raw and catchy brand of rock and roll. Ask a freak!!

Deathchant on Instagram

King Volume Records on Bandcamp

King Volume Records webstore

Dune Altar webstore

Dune Altar on Thee Facebooks