Posted in Whathaveyou on August 1st, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Okay, so it looks like the fourth full-length from Swedish progressive heavy rockers Skraeckoedlan will be released next year through Fuzzorama Records, and that the first single from that album, “The Vermillion Sky,” is out Aug. 17. If you get nothing else from this post, that’s enough of a takeaway. What that doesn’t tell you is the way the new record ties into 2019’s Eorþe (review here) — which is reportedly does — or what else they have in the works as regards narrative and so on, which is a whole other sphere to be explored.
I’ve read some preliminary info, but I don’t think it’s public yet and don’t want to give away something I shouldn’t, so please, consider this a heads up on the forthcoming track and the record to be. I haven’t heard it yet, but Skraeckoedlan have never wanted for ambition and this seems like their broadest reaching work yet. Even beyond digging into the single, I am curious as to how it will all come out when it does. Spring, maybe?
Fuzzorama‘s newsletter had the following:
It’s been a while. A good, long four years since Skraeckoedlan released their latest album, Earth. Meaning it’s time for something new. It’s time to take off.
The Vermillion Sky, is the first single from Skraeckoedlan’s upcoming 2024-release and will be available digitally on August 17. A mere 7 minutes can take you pretty far. You will hop planets, watch heavenly bodies collide, traverse galaxies and get drawn into the all-encompassing nothingness. The Void. And there are also rainbows. If that’s not enough, good news. This is only part of a continuous, much larger story. But that is something to be heard (and read) at a later date.
So, come August 17, keep your eyes toward the heavens.
Have a look at The Vermillion Sky!
Skraeckoedlan: Robert Lamu – Vocals/Guitar Henrik Grüttner – Guitar Erik Berggren – Bass Martin Larsson – Drums
The recorded-in-a-cabin-in-the-woods narrative for Swan Valley Heights‘ third album, Terminal Forest, offers quick explanation for the birdsong at the outset of opener “Microbe Galaxy,” which might seem inconsistent until one digs a little deeper into the title. I don’t know which German forest resulted in the six tracks and 46 minutes with which Swan Valley Heights follow-up their 2019 sophomore LP and first outing for Fuzzorama Records, The Heavy Seed (review here), as well as their 2016 self-titled debut (review here) on Oak Island, but the band give a duly pastoral impression in the 11-minute leadoff as homage. The phrase ‘terminal forest’ itself means a forest in the stage of sustainable, incremental sprawl over the long term; an older forest, grown through the initial rounds of grasses, bushes and trees to things like large pines and taller deciduous trees, and so on.
You see where this is going as relates to the work done by guitarist/vocalist David Kreisl, bassist Christian Schmidt and drummer/keyboardist Andy Ozbolt — they’re the forest. They’re the ones who’ve been through the process of organic growth, in their case for at least the last seven years, and who emerge with their third album backed by the lessons they’ve learned and the strong roots they’ve established. Is that what they meant by the title? Probably not, but it’s arguably applicable just the same. Indeed, Terminal Forest does blossom enriched by what Swan Valley Heights have done prior, and the sense of grace they bring to their take on warm-toned, melodic and largely mellow heavy psychedelia is something that has likewise flourished as they’ve moved forward to this point.
To wit, “Microbe Galaxy” — which one assumes is actually something pretty small in relation to an actual galaxy — runs 11:24 and is the first of three extended tracks to feature throughout Terminal Forest. Side B boasts the title-track (10:02) and closer “Star Fever” (12:20) either in succession to close the record if you have the vinyl or with the four-minute fuzz instrumental “Looking for Bird Pet” between them in the digital version, and the album as a whole uses these as not only the bulk of its expression but as landing points from which to continue to expand outward. That is to say, the three shorter pieces — “The Hunger” (5:12), “Space Bash III” (3:09) and the already-noted “Looking for Bird Pet” (4:19) — are complementary to what their longer counterparts are accomplishing, while still offering an impression of their own, whether it’s the drums making the fuzz dance on “The Hunger” or the winding and bopping procession that follows immediately and shows the guitar stepping in to lead the movement.
TerminalForest is rife with precisely this kind of dynamic. As it unfolds through its melodic first verse peppered with stick clicks and airy guitar lines that solidify around an acoustic-inclusive movement where the lead guitar works like Colour Haze playing the bridge of the Ghostbusters theme — that sounds like I’m ragging on it; let me be clear and say I’m not — “Microbe Galaxy” sets a patient and flowing atmosphere that hold firm even for the crunchiest stretches of fuzz in it or the culmination payoffs of “The Hunger” or “Looking for Bird Pet,” “Terminal Forest” or “Star Fever” after.
And ultimately, it is the flow that defines the album; the smoothness and ease with which Swan Valley Heights foster an overarching impression while each piece explores a space of its own, however long that may or may not be. “Space Bash III,” for example — and no, I don’t think there’s a “Space Bash I” or “Space Bash II”; maybe someday we’ll get prequels in the trilogy — is the shortest of the inclusions, but it stands out with the twisting movement of its riff and the airy lead lines around it, neither the first nor last time the band seem to reference what-coulda-been Dutch heavy psych rockers Sungrazer in the proceedings, as the drift and nod of the early going of “Terminal Forest” feels specifically in conversation with the subdued verses of that band’s “Somo,” never mind the consuming fullness of tone that ensues from there, but in Kreisl‘s vocal echo and the easy movement between loud and quiet parts, Swan Valley Heights own the moment, resolving the title-track with building intensity around a circular movement until slamming shut at nine minutes and opening wide from there into a final chorus calling up from under the weight of guitar and bass.
On a lot of records, “Microbe Galaxy” or “Terminal Forest” would be a finale or a crowning achievement wherever else they might be placed in the tracklisting, but after the palette-cleansing roll and riffy jam of “Looking for Bird Pet” — in which genuine-sounding laughter can be heard off-mic before it gets loud for the second time — delves into momentary noodle-prog hypnosis and clears its head with one more wash of fuzz before the drone at the outset of “Star Fever” announces the arrival of the album’s best argument for being about itself; that is, the point at which Swan Valley Heights most enunciate their to-this-point development as a group. A long stretch of intertwining guitar and keys moves subtly toward the inclusion of drums and bass at two minutes in. They’ll soon enough get into the handclaps and surges of fuzz and layered vocal melody — have I mentioned the fuzz? oh, only 15 times? well it’s worth a 16th mention — but they do return to that spaceout, adding vocals later as a precursor to the surprising rager of a solo and the saved-the-biggest-for-last nod that caps “Star Fever” and Terminal Forest as a whole.
There and everywhere throughout Terminal Forest, Swan Valley Heights are thoughtful in their approach and considered in their presentation without losing the natural spirit required for this kind of heavy psych. As a result, they’re not so much playing to style as letting style play to them. Generally speaking, this is not the work of first or second full-lengths, so maybe it’s true that Terminal Forest is the stylistic endgame for the band, but given the linear trajectory of their releases up to now, the fact that they take their time both within and between them, and the apparent commitment to sonic evolution on display in this material as it relates to their past output, it doesn’t seem likely they’ve finished exploring. Terminal Forest demonstrates nascent mastery in Swan Valley Heights‘ ability to careen so fluidly between parts and entire songs, and taken front-to-back, it should go without saying that it’s the high point of their tenure to-date. But, part of what makes it so striking is that it doesn’t actually sound ‘terminal’ in that regard. From seed to forest and toward who knows what, they might just keep growing.
Cheers to whoever runs the Deadly Vipers video editing department. I suppose it’s not that crazy for a tour to end and a good-times-we-had video to surface a couple weeks later, but the French four-piece were out at the end of March alongside Fuzzorama Records imprint heads Truckfighters (from Sweden, if it needs to be said) and Wizzerd for a multinational stint supporting their late-2022 album, Low City Drone (review here), the three labelmate acts rolling through Germany, Austria and the Netherlands as one will. And while I don’t know if they made the clip themselves in terms of actually putting the footage together, having such a project to work on would be a decent way to beat the post-tour blues, if in fact that’s the case.
Either way, it’s a welcome check-in from the Perpignan outfit in addition to a reminder/herald for the album. You can see the tour was a good time and the crowds showed up and that’s all fine, but the song brings to the forefront the strengths of the band in terms of craft and presentation, the songwriting wholly embracing a desert rock style while keeping the production full and modern. Maybe that doesn’t sound so off-the-wall on paper, but on “Last Rise” and throughout the record they bring freshness of perspective to the tenets of genre without coming across as too derivative or needing to mask their influences by superfluous arrangement elements. Solid, fuzzy, engaging heavy rock. You’ll pardon me if I don’t argue with it.
The video follows here and the album stream is down near the bottom of the post. You know the drill.
Please enjoy:
Deadly Vipers, “Last Rise” official video
Deadly Vipers did a video to the song ‘Last Rise’ with material from their European tour spring 2023 supporting Truckfighters.
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 10th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Been waiting for this since Valley of the Sun were announced for Desertfest in London and Berlin, and all the better for the Ohio four-piece that they’ll go further after the latter fest, keeping on with additional club shows supporting last year’s killer The Chariot (review here) album, which offered a ready definition of a band firing on all cylinders.
And of course, before they let out for international waters, Valley of the Sun will support UK harmonizers Church of the Cosmic Skull on a US tour (info here), and that as well is something I’m very much looking forward to. I’m not sure with whom they’ll be playing in Europe and the UK, but I do know that this is hardly the band’s first time over there and there’s no shortage of acts for them to meet up either as local support or doing the whole run, I have no idea.
In any case, these guys staying active post-pandemic is only good news, and as The Chariot wrought their most mature sound to-date, one might rightly think of these tours as a victory lap. The dates for UK and EU are below, venue info in the poster, which you can click to enlarge.
From social media:
TOUR ANNOUNCEMENT!!!
We’re heading back to the UK and EU this May to rock off all your beautiful faces!!! Ticket links below:
05/05 UK DESERTFEST LONDON 07/05 UK EDINBURGH 08/05 UK NEWCASTLE 09/05 UK SHEFFIELD 10/05 UK MANCHESTER 11/05 UK NOTTINGHAM TBA 12/05 UK BRISTOL 13/05 UK BOURNEMOUTH 15/05 CH LUZERN 16/05 IT TORINO 17/05 HR ZAGREB TBA 18/05 AT GRAZ TBA 19/05 DE PASSAU 20/05 DE DESERTFEST BERLIN 21/05 DE HANOVER 22/05 DE WIESBADEN TBA 23/05 DE MUNSTER 24/05 BE EEKLO 25/05 NL EINDHOVEN 26/O5 DK ESBJERG 27/05 DE KIEL
VALLEY OF THE SUN are: Ryan Ferrier – Guitar/Vocals Lex Vegas – Drums Chris Sweeney – Bass, Keys Josh Pilot – Guitar
Posted in Whathaveyou on January 17th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Sweden’s Truckfighters earn extra points for charm with the self-deprecating name they’ve given their upcoming ‘Who’s Drumming on This’ Tour. One recalls wondering the same thing about tours past, and it seems to be the perennial question for the long-running fuzz mavens, as bassist/vocalist Oskar Cedermalm (also Firestone) and guitarist Niklas Källgren (also Enigma Experience) have employed a swath of skin-bashers over the better part of the last two decades. Presumably, that mystery will be solved at least internally before these shows actually start, though if Truckfighters hit the road with a drum machine at this point, would anyone even blink? I guess maybe it’s not the same for the kind of rock they’re playing. Might be interesting to try, if only once.
I was fortunate enough to see them last month at their own festival in Stockholm, and as headliners, they shared drums with Firestone, who opened the main stage. It was quite a day and Truckfighters were nothing if not a fitting cap for it, their energy inimitable — despite 15 years’ worth of bands who’ve tried — and their songs ingrained in their audience like the classics that only a little more time will allow them to become.
They’re due for a new record, though.
From socials:
(#128293#) Hey ho, we will go on tour in Germany, Austria, Netherlands as soon as mid March! Block your calendars, call your friends, then listen to the entire Truckfighters catalogue on repeat! Then come see us for fuzz sake! Support band(s) will be announced shortly.
Ticket links will be added very soon and you will find them on https://www.truckfighters.com/dates-2 and in the FB events linked next to respective tourdates below.
17.3.23 (DE) Regensburg, Alte Mälzerei https://fb.me/e/5wwnXKYbS 18.3.23 (AT) Wien, Arena https://fb.me/e/4bjJL8KdV 19.3.23 (DE) München, Backstage https://fb.me/e/541vbJw2J 20.3.23 (DE) Berlin, Lido https://fb.me/e/5zWTAsayK 21.3.23 (DE) Hamburg, Bahnhof Pauli https://fb.me/e/3inf8Z1OI 22.3.23 (DE) Leipzig, WERK 2 23.3.23 (DE) Köln, Club Volta https://fb.me/e/1T1Ey3HQW 24.3.23 TBA 25.3.23 (NL) Groningen, Vera https://fb.me/e/44tIbBs2E 26.3.23 (NL) Amsterdam, Melkweg https://fb.me/e/3bRthqJwb
Posted in Whathaveyou on January 9th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
German heavy psychedelic rockers Swan Valley Heights will release their new album, Terminal Forest, March 31 on Fuzzorama Records. The Munich-based trio made the announcement and posted the cover art on socials, which is pretty standard, and the label followed up by making it the headlining feature of their ‘Fuzzletter’ — it continues to amaze how versatile the word ‘fuzz’ is, never mind the practice of fuzzing out itself — which is fortunate, since it makes the information less subject to the winds and whims of the algorithm, tyrant of our days as it is.
There is no audio yet public from Terminal Forest, or private for that matter, at least in my case, but I was fortunate enough to see Swan Valley Heights play in Stockholm at the first night of the Truckfighters Fuzz Festival #3 (review here), and that was a joy. The band toured north to that fest with fellow Munich natives Colour Haze, which is a suitable pairing highlighting not only the serenity in Swan Valley Heights‘ sound as well as the harder-hitting stretches that offset. In 2022, Swan Valley Heights also toured with Greece’s Stonus on a run I’m proud to say was presented by this site.
When it arrives, seemingly on March 31, Terminal Forest will be the band’s first outing since The Heavy Seed (review here) in 2019. Not that long, considering, but a welcome return nonetheless.
From the fuzzwire:
Swan Valley Heights – Terminal Forest
Swan Valley Heights announce new album and release show!
March 31st! Save the date
TERMINAL FOREST will be out and we cannnnnot wait to release this cabin-crafted son of a log into the troposphere.
Hallelujah
-Yes-, you’re looking at the official cover artwork, painted by the brilliant Dario Puggioni. What a man.
Infos on pre-orders, the first single and *impending festivities* will be announced in the coming days & weeks.
Posted in Reviews on December 27th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Fuzz gratia fuzzis. France’s Deadly Vipers have dug their hands into pilot-ready dunes and emerge with their second album and first for Fuzzorama Records, Low City Drone, collecting eight tracks that, while varied in their individual purposes, speak to an overarching love of the form and play to desert rock stylizations with marked and particular aplomb. The follow-up to 2017’s well-received Fueltronaut (review here), the 45-minute offering sounds bigger, broader in its soundscapes and brighter in the sunny warmth beating down thereupon, finding sonic kinship not only with the likes of Kyuss and Slo Burn, Dozer, Astrosoniq and Truckfighters — who of course run the Fuzzorama label and whose Niklas Källgren mixed and mastered the recording; David Hannier at Seven Theory Studio, SJPC, France, engineered — but with the generation of bands they helped plug in and turn up: the likes of earlier 1000mods, Valley of the Sun, and so on.
They know what they’re going for, in other words, and the mindful impact and flow of Low City Drone is the result — a groove that permeates loud or quiet, fast or slow, and carries the listener from the intro “Echoes From Wasteland” with its quiet beginning and click-pedals-on springing forth, gradually unveiling the full heft that Deadly Vipers have on offer, all the way to the seemingly complementary finisher “Big Empty,” which likewise starts quiet and builds its way engagingly toward a satisfying last crescendo, peaking, spacing out, and ultimately returning to cap with a riff that subtly calls out Kyuss‘ “Asteroid” and the earlier “Atom” as if to underscore the message they’ve been transmitting all along. I do not know the geology of Perpignan, France, from whence they hail and if you think desert rock can only come from the American desert, by now there are at least a quarter-century’s worth of killer bands to readily demonstrate otherwise. Deadly Vipers elbow their way onto that list with this record.
A highlight and focal point for the four-piece — the lineup: standalone vocalist Fred Chinarro, guitarist David Migaud, bassist Thomas Gronnier and drummer Rudy Carretero, any of whom might provide backing vocals — is the nine-minute title-track, “Low City Drone,” which is a standout in more than runtime, but before they get there, “Atom” picks up from “Echoes From Wasteland” with the first declaration of Kyussism in its riff and Chinarro‘s John Garcia-esque melodic belt-out. Catchy, the post-intro leadoff breaks at about its halfway point and throws in some speedier push and some well-placed distinguishing keyboard from Gronnier before turning back to the slower progression, mellowing out, building back up. A sense of Deadly Vipers weaving their way from one part to the next — not ever more abrupt than they want to be, but not staying still by any means — pervades Low City Drone, and much to its benefit.
The title-track puts the bass forward in the mix (not a complaint) early and sweeps into its hook at about 90 seconds into its comparatively extended runtime, verse vocals laced with echo to add to the spaciousness. The second verse/chorus trade finds the bassline holding across a break and guitar solo peppered with statistically significant crashes and jamming gradually toward organ-topped boogie and thrust, the chorus reemerging over top to effectively convey an uptick in intensity. They calm it down and mellow it out, but it’s just taking a breath before the last push — bass bouncing all the while — after which they bring it down gracefully, hit a final crash and precede side A closer “Welli Welloo” with a few seconds of silence before diving into the more straight-ahead hook, the backing vocals behind Chinarro subtly adding to the memorability of the song from within that wall of fuzz surrounding. The mini-closer marks the album’s midpoint with a summary of what’s worked best so far about Low City Drone in its tone, its awareness of craft and where it’s going, its pacing for maximum groove, etc. Deadly Vipers make their lack of pretense an essential facet of their style, and their clear passion and celebration of the fuzz feels sincere and is all the more engaging for that.
Marked by some sitar-y psych-leaning guitar in its second half before its big blowout — that’ll come back in the closer, briefly — the four-minute instrumental (more than an intro in substance as well as length) “Meteor Part II” leads side B in an apparent answer to “Meteor Valley” from the first record, not quite hypnotic and not quite trying to hypnotize, but comfortable in its nod just the same. “Last Rise” arrives with near-immediate ceremony in its lumbering beginning and the “ahh” vocals that come to back the chorus. The fuzz sounds like it just ate a very large dinner, and is what the comedian Patton Oswalt once referred to as ‘B-word fat,’ but Deadly Vipers still manage to bring it down to a stretch of dreamy guitar and melodic bass before blending the heavier low end back in, keys complementing en route back to the verse. They don’t bring back that “ahh” hook, but “Last Rise” ends with satisfyingly massive plod just the same, the organ the last thing to go before the penultimate “Ego Trip” picks up like nothing just happened; riffy business as usual on Low City Drone.
Fair enough, since that’s kind of true, and pretty clearly intentional on the part of the band. In its pace and progression, there’s a bit of cowbell in there past the midsection and it comes back at the end, later bass quirk in the suddenly-jazzy synth-accompanied bridge, and near-shouted resurgence, “Ego Trip” is maybe the most clearly aligned of the bunch with Truckfighters, but the personality it shows serves the album well carrying into “Big Empty,” which spaces the vocals out more, again leans on the bass like in the title-track (still not a complaint), and ties together the desert and the expanse atmospheres with one more fluid execution, lead guitar rising here, there a quick breath setting up the final movement across the last minute and a half, the moment of arrival as they harken back in the ending to “Atom” for just a measure before closing.
That’s fairly emblematic of Low City Drone as a whole, not just in its summary of what Deadly Vipers have wrought across the record, but also the depth that coincides with its forward shove and the sense of atmosphere that results organically from the amalgam that is their approach. Along with songwriting, one of the band’s strengths is their ability to hold their material together amid such tonal reverie, to not lose themselves in the world they’re making. That they’re ultimately clearheaded isn’t necessarily a surprise given how they presented themselves on Fueltronaut, but Low City Drone pushes them further along their charted course and feels purposeful in the moves its makes, delivering on potential while setting them up for continued growth and intricacy. One could ask no more of Low City Drone than one receives, and patient, repeat listens are all the more rewarded. It may be a wasteland, this ‘big empty,’ but it teems with life just the same.
Posted in Reviews on September 22nd, 2022 by JJ Koczan
On occasion, throughout the last eight years or so that I’ve been doing this kind of Quarterly Review roundup thing, I’ve been asked how I do it. The answer is appallingly straightforward. I do it one record at a time, listening to as much music as possible and writing as much as I can. If you were curious, there you go.
If, more likely, you weren’t curious, now you know anyway. Shall we?
Quarterly Review #31-40:
Russian Circles, Gnosis
You wanna know how big a deal Russian Circles are? I didn’t even get a promo of this record. Granted, I’m nobody, but still. So anyway, here I am like a fucking sucker, about to tell you Gnosis is the heaviest and most intense thing Russian Circles — with whose catalog I’m just going to assume you’re familiar because they’re that big a deal and you’re pretty hip; bet you got a download to review, or at least an early stream — have ever done and it means literally nothing. Just makes me feel stupid and lame. I really want to like this album. That chug in “Conduit?” Fuck yeah. That wash in “Betrayal?” Even that little minimalist stretch of “Ó Braonáin.” The way “Tupilak” rumbles to life at the outset. That’s my shit right there. Chug chug crush crush, pretty part. So anyway, instead of sweating it forever, I’ll probably shut Gnosis off when I’m done here and never listen to it again. Thanks. Who gives a shit? Exactly. Means nothing to anyone. Tell me why I do this? Why even give it the space? Because they’re that big a deal and I’m the nerdy fat kid forever. Total fucking stooge. Fuck it and fuck you too.
Are not all gods mere substitutes for the power of human voices united in song? And why not tonight for finding the grace within us? As Brother Bill, Sister Caroline and their all-colours Septaphonic congregation of siblings tell us, we’re only one step away. I know you’ve been dragged down, wrung out, you’ve seen the valleys and hills, but now’s the time. Church of the Cosmic Skull come forward again with the message of galactic inner peace and confronting the unreality of reality through choral harmonies and progressive heavy rock and roll, and even the Cosmic Mother herself must give ear. Come, let us bask in the light of pure illumination and revolutionary suicide. Let us find what we lost somewhere. All gods die, but you and I can live forever and spread ourselves across the universe like so much dust from the Big Bang. We’ll feel the texture of the paper. We’ll be part of the team. Oh, fellow goers into the great Far Out, there’s reverence being sung from the hills with such spirit behind it. Can you hear? Will you? There’s nothing to fear here, nothing sinister. Nothing to be lost except that which has held you back all along. Let it all move, and go. Open your eyes to feel all seven rays, and stand peeled like an onion, naked, before the truth being told. Do this. Today.
Saarbrücken duo Pretty Lightning follow 2020’s stellar Jangle Bowls (review here) with a collection of 14 instrumental passages that, for all their willful meandering, never find themselves lost. Heady, Dead Meadowy vibes persist on ramblers like “Sediment Swing” and “Splinter Bowl,” but through spacious drone and the set-the-mood-for-whatever “Glide Gently (Into the Chasm),” which is both opener and the longest track (immediate points) at just over five minutes, the clear focus is on ambience. I wouldn’t be the first to liken some of Dust Moves to Morricone, and sure, “Powdermill” has some of that Dollars-style reverb and “The Secret is Locked Inside” lays out a subtle nighttime threat in its rattlesnake shaker, but these ideas are bent and shaped to Pretty Lightning‘s overarching purpose, and even with 14 songs, the fact that the album only runs 43 minutes should tell you that even as they seem to head right into the great unknown wilderness of intent, they never dwell in any single position for too long, and are in no danger of overstaying their welcome. Extra kudos for the weirdness of “Crystal Waltz” tucked right into the middle of the album next to “The Slow Grinder.” Sometimes experiments work.
Combining burly modern heavy riffage, progressive flourish and a liberal dose of chicanery, Montana’s Wizzerd end up in the realm of Howling Giant and a more structurally-straightforward Elder without sounding directly like either of them. Their Fuzzorama Records label debut, the quizzically punctuated Space‽: Issue No. 001 echoes its title’s obvious nods to comic book culture with a rush of energy in songs like “Super Nova” and “Attack of the Gargantuan Moon Spiders,” the swinging “Don’t Zorp ‘n’ Warp” space-progging out in its second half as though to emphasize the sheer delight on the part of the band doing something unexpected. So much the better if they’re having fun too. The back half of the outing after the duly careening “Space Chase” is blocked off by the noisy “Transmission” and the bleep-bloop “End Transmission” — which, if we’re being honest is a little long at just under five minutes — but finds the band establishing a firm presence of purpose in “Doom Machine Smoke Break” and the building “Diosa del Sol” ahead of the record’s true finishing moment, “Final Departure Part 1: The Intergalactic Keep of the Illustrious Cosmic Woman,” which is both an adventure in outer space and a melodic highlight. This one’s a party and you’re invited.
Desert 9 is one of several projects founded by synthesist Peter Bell through a collective/studio called Mutaform in the Brindisi region of Southern Italy (heel of the boot), and the seven-song/63-minute Explora II follows quickly behind June’s Explora I and works on a similar theme of songs named for different deserts around the world, be it “Dasht-e Margo,” “Mojave,” “Gobi” or “Arctic.” What unfolds in these pieces is mostly long-ish-form instrumental krautrock and psychedelic exploration — “Arctic” is an exception at a somewhat ironically scorching three and a half minutes; opener “Namib” is shorter, and jazzier, as well — likewise immersive and far-outbound, with Bell‘s own synth accompanied on its journeys by guitar, bass and drums, the former two with effects to spare. I won’t take away from the sunburn of “Sonoran” at the finish, but the clazzic-cool swing of “Chihuahuan” is a welcome respite from some of the more thrust-minded fare, at least until the next solo starts and eats the second half of the release. The mix is raw, but I think that’s part of the idea here, and however much of Explora II was improvised and/or recorded live, it sounds like the four-piece just rolled up, hit record and went for it. Not revolutionary in aesthetic terms, but inarguable in vitality.
Originally pressed to tape in 2019 through Fuzz Ink and brought to vinyl through Sound Effect Records, Greek sludgers Gagulta begin their self-titled debut with an evocation of the Old Ones before unfurling the 13-minute assault of “Dead Fiend/Devil’s Lettuce,” the second part of which is even slower than the first. Nods and screams, screams and nods, riffs and kicks and scratches. “Late Beer Cult” is no less brash or disaffected, the Galatsi-based trio of ‘vokillist’ Johny Oldboy, baritone bassist Xen and drummer Jason — no need for last names; we’re all friends here — likewise scathing and covered in crust. Side B wraps with the 10-minute eponymous “Gagulta” — circle pit into slowdown into even noisier fuckall — but not before “Long Live the Undead” has dirty-steamrolled through its four minutes and the penultimate “War” blasts off from its snare count-in on a punk-roots-revealing surge that plays back and forth with tortured, scream-topped slow-riff madness. I don’t know if the Old Ones would be pleased, but if at any point you see a Gagulta backpatch out in the wild, that person isn’t fucking around and neither is this band. Two years after its first release, it remains monstrous.
Some 20 years removed from their debut album, Accidentally Making Enemies, and 13 past their most recent, 2009’s Eye Tree Pi (review here), London’s Obiat return at the behest of guitarist/keyboardist Raf Reutt and drummer Neil Dawson with the duly massive Indian Ocean, an eight-song collection spanning an hour’s listening time that brings together metallic chug and heavy post-rock atmospherics, largesse of tone and melody central to the proceedings from opener “Ulysses” onward. Like its long-ago predecessor, Alex Nervo‘s bass (he also adds keys and guitar) is a major presence, and in addition to vocalist Sean Cooper, who shines emotively and in the force of his delivery throughout, there are an assortment of guests on “Eyes and Soul,” “Nothing Above,” “Sea Burial” and subdued closer “Lightness of Existence,” adding horns, vocals, flute, and so on to the wash of volume from the guitar, bass, drums, keys, and though parts were recorded in Wales, England, Australia, Sweden, Norway and Hungary, Indian Ocean is a cohesive, consuming totality of a record that does justice to the long wait for its arrival while also earning as much volume as you can give it through its immersive atmospherics and sheer aural heft that leads to the ambient finish. It is not a minor undertaking, but it walks the line between metal and post-metal and has a current of heavy rock beneath it in a way that is very much Obiat‘s, and if they’re really back to being a band again — that is, if it’s not another 13 years before their next record — watch out.
Vienna five-piece Maunra enter the fray of the harsher side of post-metal with Monarch, their self-released-for-now debut full-length. With throaty growling vocals at the forefront atop subtly nuanced double-guitars and bouts of all-out chugga-breakdown riffing like that in “Wuthering Seas,” they’re managing to dare to bring a bit of life and energy to the generally hyper-cerebral style, and that rule-breaking continues to suit them in the careening “Embers” and the lumbering stomp-mosh of the title-track such that even when the penultimate “Lightbreather” shifts into its whispery/wispy midsection — toms still thudding behind — there’s never any doubt of their bringing the shove back around. I haven’t seen a lyric sheet, so can’t say definitively whether or not opener “Between the Realms” is autobiographical in terms of the band describing their own aesthetic, but their blend of progressivism and raw impact is striking in that song and onward, and it’s interesting to hear an early ’00s metal influence creep into the interplay of lead and rhythm guitar on that opener and elsewhere. At seven tracks/41 minutes, Monarch proffers tonal weight and rhythmic force, hints toward more melodic development to come, and underscores its focus on movement by capping with the especially rousing “Windborne.” Reportedly the album was five years in the making. Time not wasted.
Still mostly instrumental, formerly just-Ohio-based progressive heavy rockers Brujas del Sol answer the steps they took in a vocalized direction on 2019’s II (review here) with the voice-as-part-of-the-atmosphere verses of “To Die on Planet Earth” and “Myrrors” on their third album, Deculter, but more importantly to the actual listening experience of the record is the fact that they’ve never sounded quite this heavy. Sure, guitarist Adrian Zambrano (also vocals) and bassist Derrick White still provide plenty of synth to fill out those instrumentalist spaces and up the general proggitude, and that’s a signal sent clearly with the outset “Intro,” but Joshua Oswald (drums/vocals) pounds his snare as “To Live and Die on Planet Earth” moves toward its midsection, and the aggression wrought there is answered in both the guitar and bass tones as 12-minute finishing move “Arcadia” stretches into its crescendo, more about impact than the rush of “Divided Divinity” earlier on, rawer emotionally than the keyboardier reaches of “Lenticular,” but no less thoughtful in its construction. Each piece (even that intro) has an identity of its own, and each one makes Deculter a stronger offering.
A definite 2LP at nine songs and 68 minutes, Sergeant Thunderhoof‘s fifth full-length, This Sceptred Veil, is indeed two albums’ worth of album, and the songs bear that out in their complexity and sense of purpose as well. Not to harp, but even the concluding two-parter “Avon/Avalon” is a lot to take in after what’s come before it, but what Bath, UK, troupe vary their songwriting and bring a genuine sense of presence to the material that even goes beyond the soaring vocals to the depth of the mix more generally. There’s heavy rock grit to “Devil’s Daughter” (lil eyeroll there) and progressive reach to the subsequent “Foreigner,” a lushness to “King Beyond the Gates” and twisting riffs that should earn pleased nods from anyone who’s been swept up in Green Lung‘s hooky pageantry, and opener “You’ve Stolen the Words” sets an expectation for atmosphere and a standard for directness of craft — as well as stellar production — that This Sceptred Veil seems only too happy to meet. A given listener’s reaction to the ’80s metal goofery of “Show Don’t Tell” will depend on said listener’s general tolerance for fun, but don’t let me spoil that for them or you. Yeah, it’s a substantial undertaking. Five records in, Sergeant Thunderhoof knew that when they made it, and if you’ve got the time, they’ve got the tunes. Album rocks front to back.
