Today is the last Quarterly Review day until July. I don’t know yet what shape that QR will take, whether 50 records, 100 records, 700 records or somewhere between. Depends on how the ongoing deluge of releases ebbs and flows as we head into summer. But if you count this and the other part of this Spring’s Quarterly Review, you get a total as of today of 120 releases covered, and considering the prior QR was just in January, and that one was another 100 records that’s a pretty insane amount of stuff for it being May 12.

And that’s basically the moral of the story, again. It’s a ton of stuff to encounter, hear, maybe live with if you’re lucky. I won’t make it a grand thing (I still have too much writing to do), but I hope you’ve found something cool in all this, and if not yet among the 210 albums thus far QR’ed in 2023, then maybe today’s your day as we hit the end of this round.

Quarterly Review #41-50:

Spotlights, Alchemy for the Dead

There are not many boxes that Spotlights‘ fourth album and third for Ipecac, Alchemy for the Dead, leaves unticked. Thematic, musically expansive, finely crafted in its melody and with particular attention to mood as when the bassline joins then leaves behind the acoustic guitar as a preface to the big finish in the closing title-track, it is a consuming, ultra-modern take on heavy rock from the trio of bassist/guitarist/vocalist Sarah Quintero, guitarist/synthesist/vocalist Mario Quintero and drummer Chris Enriquez, substantial even before you get to the fact that its 47 minutes push LP format limits, it speaks emotionally in rhythm as much as the thoughtful vocal interplay on “Sunset Burial,” growing intense around a central chug of guitar for one of the album’s more brazenly metal stretches. Elsewhere, standout moments abound, whether it’s the channel-panned snare buried in the second verse of “Algorithmic,” the proggy moodshifting in “Repeat the Silence,” Spotlights becoming what Deftones wanted to be in the heavygaze of “The Alchemist,” drift meeting head-on crash in “Ballad in the Mirror,” which also rolls out a fuzz-tone riff of statistically significant proportion then finds room for a swell of airy guitar before dissipating into the next mellow verse circa 2:30, more crashes to come. With the synth/sax/big-riff-and-shout interplay at the center in “False Gods,” Alchemy for the Dead would seem to mark the arrival at where Spotlights have been heading all along: their own version of a heavy of everything.

Spotlights on Facebook

Ipecac Recordings website

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Kanaan, Downpour

The mellotron in the title-track, surrounded by dense bass, fleet runs of scorch-prone guitar and resoundingly jazzy drumming, emphasizes the point: Kanaan are a band elevating heavy rock to their level. The Norwegian trio aren’t shy when it comes to riffing out, as they demonstrate in the Hedwig Mollestad collaboration on “Amazon” and intermittently throughout Downpour‘s closing pair of “Solaris Pt. 1” and “Solaris Pt. 2,” each topping seven minutes. But neither are they limited to a singular nodding expression. While still sounding young and energetic in a way that just can’t be imitated, Downpour boogies almost immediately on opener “Black Time Fuzz,” and is often heavy and grooving like a straightforward heavy rock record, but as that tambourine in “Orbit” shows, Kanaan are ready at a moment’s notice with a flourish of guitar, some key or synth element, or something else to distinguish their pieces and in the soundscaping of “Psunspot” (sic) and the scope they claim throughout side B, they remain one of Europe’s brightest hopes for a future in progressive heavy, sounding freer in their atmospheres and in the build of “Solaris Pt. 1” than they did even on 2021’s Earthbound (review here). There’s a reason just about every festival in Europe wants them to play. The proverbial band-on-fire.

Kanaan on Instagram

Jansen Records website

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Doom Lab, Zen and the Art of Tone

Zen and the Art of Tone, perhaps unsurprisingly, sets itself to the task in its title as Anchorage, Alaska-based Doom Lab mastermind Leo Scheben guides the listener through mostly short-ish instrumental pieces based around guitar, sometimes ultra-fuzzed with a programmed beat behind as on “Whole-Tones on Tail” or the extra-raw 1:24 of “Motörvamp” or the subsequent “Sabotaging the Sabocracy,” a bit clearer at the outset with “X’d Out,” but the drive toward meditation is clear and allows for both the slower, more doomed reaches of closer “Traveling Through the Cosmos at Beyond the Speed of Light” and the playful elder-funk of “The Plot-Twist” or the bounce of “Lydia Ann.” All told, the 12 songs and 36 minutes of experimentation on offer will resonate with some more than others, but Scheben sounds like he’s starting a conversation here with “Mondays Suck it Big-Time” and “Psychic Vampires” and the real question is whether anyone will answer. Sometimes a project comes along that’s just on its own wavelength, finding its own place in the pastiche, and that’s where Doom Lab have been at since the outset, prolific as well as dedicated to exploration. I don’t know toward what it’s all leading, but not knowing is part of enjoying hearing it, and maybe that’s the zen of the whole thing to start with.

Doom Lab on YouTube

Doom Lab on Bandcamp

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Strange Horizon, Skur 14

Barely a year after making their full-length debut on Apollon with Beyond the Strange Horizon (review here), Bergen, Norway, traditionalists dig deeper into the proto-style roots of doom on their four-song second LP, Skur 14. Named after a rehearsal space complex (presumably where they rehearse) in their hometown, the album runs shortest-to-longest in bringing together Scandi-folk-rooted classic prog and heavy styles, but by the time they get to “Tusser Og Troll,” the 14:47 finale, one is less thinking about the past than the future in terms of sound. Acoustic guitar begins “The Road” ahead of the straight-ahead riff and post-punk vocals, while “Cursed and Cast Out” is both speedier in the verse and more open in the hook before shifting into rolls on the snare and more theatrical shove that, much to the band’s credit, they handle fluidly without sounding either ironically over the top or like goobers in any way other than how they want. With the seven-minute “Candles,” the procession is slower and more vintage in form, reminding a bit of Demon Head but following its own anthemic chorus into an extended solo section before side B is dedicated solely to the spread of “Tusser Og Troll,” which ends with an organic-feeling jam laced with effects. A strong second outing on a quick turnaround that shows clear progression — there’s nothing more to be asked of Skur 14.

Strange Horizon on Facebook

Apollon Records store

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Shem, III

Sure, the third album from Stuttgart drone-psych-jammers Shem — titled III, lest there be any doubt — starts off with its 16-minute opener/longest track (immediate points) “Paragate,” but given the context, it’s the second cut on side A, “Lamentum” (2:50), that most piqued my interest. It’s a fading in snippet of a progression, the drums steady, volume swells behind a strumming guitar, some vocal chanting as it moves through. Given the entrancing spaciousness of “Restlicht” (7:34) and “Refugium (Beyond the Gravitational Field of Time and Space)” (11:55), I didn’t expect much more than an interlude, and maybe it’s not intended to be, but that shorter piece does a lot in separating the long cut on III‘s first half from the two on the second, so serves a vital purpose. And in that, it represents III well, since even in “Restlicht,” there seems to be a plan unfolding, even if improvisation is a part of that. Bookending, “Paragate” is mellow when it isn’t congealing nebular gasses to make new stars, and “Refugium (Beyond the Gravitational Field of Time and Space)” finds itself in a wormhole wash of guitar while the ride cymbal tries to hold structural integrity together, the whole engine ending up kissing itself goodbye as it shifts from this dimension to one that, let’s be honest, is probably more exciting.

Shem on Bandcamp

Clostridium Records store

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Melt Motif, Particles. Death Objective

You ever hear a band’s album and think maybe it worked out better than the band thought it would when they started making it? Like maybe they surprised even themselves? That was Melt Motif‘s 2022 debut, A White Horse Will Take You Home (review here). The heavy industrial outfit founded by Kenneth Rasmus Greve and legit-doesn’t-need-a-last-name vocalist Rakel are joined by Brazilian producer Joe Irente for the curiously punctuated 10-track follow-up, Particles. Death Objective, and though they don’t have the element of surprise on their side this time out (for themselves or listeners), Melt Motif as a trio do expand on what the first album accomplished, bringing ideas from electronic dance music, sultry post-rock and hard-landing beats — plus some particularly striking moments of weighted guitar — to bear such that “Warrior” and “I’m Gone” are assured in not needing to explode with aggression and even with all its ticks and pops, the penultimate “Abyss” is more about atmosphere than impact. “Fever” creates a wash and lurches slow and heavy following on from “Broken Floor” at the beginning, but in “Full Moon” it’s a techno party and “Never_Again” feels like experimentalist hip-hop, so if you thought the book was closed aesthetically on the project, the sophomore outing assures it very much is not. So much the better.

Melt Motif on Facebook

Apollon Records on Bandcamp

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Margarita Witch Cult, Margarita Witch Cult

As it begins with the telltale strut and maddening catchiness of “Diabolical Influence,” one might be tempted to think Birmingham’s Margarita Witch Cult are playing in Uncle Acid‘s sinister sandbox, but the two-minute fuzz-chug-punker burst of “Death Lurks at Every Turn” corrects this notion, and the rest of the UK trio’s nine-song/31-minute self-titled Heavy Psych Sounds affirms there’s more going on. “The Witchfinder Comes” is a classic Sabbath-worship roller with multi-tracked vocals — guitarist Scott Vincent is the only one listed on vocals, so might just be layering; Jim Thing is on bass and George Casual on drums — and “Be My Witch” is a lesson in how to make thickened fuzz move, but it’s the pointedly Motörheaded “Annihilation” (1:42) that most stands out, even with the likewise speedy shuffle of “Theme From Cyclops” (1:34) right behind it, the faster takeoff welcome to offset the midtempo home-base of the trio’s grooves. As to that, “Lord of the Flies” nestles itself into a comfortable tempo and resolves in a nod that it seems to have spent much of its five minutes building toward, a last run through the main riff more celebration than repetition ahead of the instrumental “Aradia,” which like “The Witchfinder Comes” featured on the band’s 2022 Witchfinder EP (review here), and the previously-issued single “Sacrifice,” which closes. Bottom line is they’ve got a righteous sound and their first album shows they know how to wield it. The smoke-filled sky is the limit from here. Hail next-gen stoner rock.

Margarita Witch Cult on Facebook

Heavy Psych Sounds website

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Cloud of Souls, A Fate Decided

Trading between charred rasps and cleaner declarative singing, Indianapolis-based multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Chris Latta (The Skyspeakers, Lavaborne, ex-Spirit Division) guides the mostly-solo-project — Tucker Thomasson drums and plays lead guitar; not minimizing anyone’s contributions — Cloud of Souls through a tumultuous journey along the line between ancient-of-days doom and black metal, strident at times like Bathory, sometimes all-out ripping as on the earlier-Enslaved-style “Hiding from Human Eyes,” and growing deathlier on “Where Failure Dies” ahead of the closing title-track, which threatens to break out the razors at any moment but stays civilized in its doomly roll for the duration. Whatever else Latta accomplishes in this or any of his other outfits from here on out, he’ll always be able to say he put out a record with a centerpiece called “Time for Slaughter,” which isn’t nothing as regards artist achievements — the song taps pre-NWOBHM doom until it turns infernal in the middle — and while there’s clearly an aspect of self-awareness in what he’s doing, the exploration and the songwriting are put first such that A Fate Decided resounds with a love for the metal that birthed it while finding its own path to hopefully keep walking across future releases.

Cloud of Souls on Facebook

Cloud of Souls on Bandcamp

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Hibernaut, Ingress

When I tell you Hibernaut has three former members of Salt Lake City psych-blues rockers Dwellers in the lineup, just go ahead and put that expectation to the side for a minute. With guitarist Dave Jones stepping to the front as vocalist, Joey Toscano (also ex-Iota) moving from guitar/vocals to lead guitar, Zach Hatsis (also ex-SubRosa) on drums and Josh Dupree on bass, their full-length debut/first release of any sort, Ingress — recorded of course by Andy Patterson — has more in common with High on Fire and dirt-coated raw thrash than anything so lush, and at 11 songs and 74 minutes long, that will toward the unrestrained is multifaceted as well. There’s rock swagger to be had in “Magog” or the spinning riff of “Summoner,” but “Mines” has more Celtic Frost than Kyuss to it, and that isn’t a complaint. The material varies — at over an hour long, it fucking better — but whether it’s the double-kick rampage of “Kaleidoscope” or the furious takedown of “Lantern Eyed,” Hibernaut revel in an overarching nastiness of riff such that you might just end up scrunching your face without thinking about it. There’s room for a couple nods, in “Projection,” or “Aeons Entombed,” but the prevailing impression is meaner while remaining atmospheric. I like that I have no guess what they’ll do after this. I don’t like having to check autocorrect every time it replaces their name with ‘Hibernate.’ If only I had some gnasher heavy metal to help me vent that frustration. Oh wait.

Hibernaut on Instagram

Hibernaut on Bandcamp

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Grin, Black Nothingness

For their Black Nothingness EP, Berlin-based DIY aficionados Grin — bassist Sabine Oberg and drummer/vocalist Jan Oberg — stripped their sound back to its most essential parts. Unlike 2022’s Phantom Knocks (review here) long-player, there’s no soundscaping, no guitar, no Hammond. There is low end. There are drums. There are growls and shouts and there are six tracks and none of them reaches three minutes in length. This ferocious display of efficiency counterintuitively underscores the breadth of Grin‘s approach, since as one band they feel unrestricted in terms of arrangements, and Black Nothingness — on their own The Lasting Dose Records imprint and recorded by Jan — benefits from the barebones construction in terms of sheer impact as heard on the rolling “Gatekeeper” before each ending measure of “Midnight Blue Sorrow” seems to leave a bruise, or even the opening semi-title-track “Nothingness” staking a claim on hardcore gangshout backing vocals for use pretty much anytime. “Talons” is less in-your-face with its violence, but the threat remains fervent and subsequent closer “Deathbringer” perfectly conveys that sense of exhaustion you have from when you’ve been so angry for so long that actually you’re just kind of sad about it. All this and more in about 12 minutes out of your busy and intensely frustrating life makes Black Nothingness one of 2023’s best short releases. Now rage, damnit.

Grin on Facebook

Grin on Bandcamp

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Coming at you live and direct from the Wegmans pharmacy counter where I’m waiting to pick up some pinkeye drops for my kid, who stayed home from half-day pre-k on Monday because the Quarterly Review isn’t complicated enough on its own. It was my diagnosis that called off the bus, later confirmed over telehealth, so at least I wasn’t wrong and shot my own day. I know this shit doesn’t matter to anyone — it’ll barely matter to me in half an hour — but, well, I don’t think I’ve ever written while waiting for a prescription before and I’m just stoned enough to think it might be fun to do so now.

Of course, by the time I’m writing the reviews below — tomorrow morning, as it happens — this scrip will have long since been ready and retrieved. But a moment to live through, just the same.

We hit halfway today. Hope your week’s been good so far. Mine’s kind of a mixed bag apart from the music, which has been pretty cool.

Quarterly Review #21-30:

Yakuza, Sutra

Since it would be impossible anyway to encapsulate the scope of Yakuza‘s Sutra — the Chicago-based progressive psych-metal outfit led by vocalist/saxophonist Bruce Lamont, with Matt McClelland on guitar/backing vocals, Jerome Marshall on bass and James Staffel on drums/percussion — from the transcendental churn of “2is1” to the deadpan tension build in and noise rock payoff in “Embers,” the sax-scorch bass-punch metallurgical crunch of “Into Forever” and the deceptively bright finish of “Never the Less,” and so on, let’s do a Q&A. They still might grind at any moment? Yup, see “Burn Before Reading.” They still on a wavelength of their own? Oh most definitely; see “Echoes From the Sky,” “Capricorn Rising,” etc. Still underrated? Yup. It’s been 11 years since they released Beyul (review here). Still ahead of their time? Yes. Like anti-genre pioneers John Zorn or Peter Brötzmann turned heavy and metal, or like Virus or Voivod with their specific kind of if-you-know-you-know, cult-following-worthy individualist creativity, Yakuza weave through the consuming 53-minute procession of Sutra with a sensibility that isn’t otherworldly because it’s psychedelic or drenched in effects (though it might also be those things at any given moment), but because they sound like they come from another planet. A welcome return from an outfit genuinely driven toward the unique and a meld of styles beyond metal and/or jazz. And they’ve got a fitting home on Svart. I know it’s been over a decade, but I hope these dudes get old in this band.

Yakuza on Facebook

Svart Records website

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Lotus Thrones, The Heretic Souvenir

The second offering from Philadelphia multi-instrumentalist Heath Rave (Altars of the Moon, former drums in Wolvhammer, etc.) under the banner of Lotus Thrones, the seven-song/38-minute The Heretic Souvenir (on Disorder and Seeing Red) draws its individual pieces across an aural divide by means of a stark atmosphere, the post-plague-and-the-plague-is-capitalism skulking groove of “B0T0XDR0NE$” emblematic both of perspective and of willingness to throw a saxophone overtop if the mood’s right (by Yakuza‘s Bruce Lamont, no less), which it is. At the outset, “Gore Orphanage” is more of an onslaught, and “Alpha Centauri” has room for both a mathy chug and goth-rocking shove, the latter enhanced by Rave‘s low-register vocals. Following the Genghis Tron-esque glitch-grind of 1:16 centerpiece “Glassed,” the three-and-a-half-minute “Roses” ups the goth factor significantly, delving into twisted Type O Negative-style pulls and punk-rooted forward thrust in a highlight reportedly about Rave‘s kid, which is nice (not sarcastic), before making the jump into “Autumn of the Heretic Souvenir,” which melds Americana and low-key dub at the start of its 11-minute run before shifting into concrete sludge chug and encompassing trades between atmospheric melody and outright crush until a shift eight minutes in brings stand(mostly)alone keys backed by channel-swapping electronic noise as a setup for the final surge’s particularly declarative riff. That makes the alt-jazz instrumental “Nautilus” something of an afterthought, but not out of place in terms of its noir ambience that’s also somehow indebted to Nine Inch Nails. There’s a cough near the end. See if you can hear it.

Lotus Thrones on Facebook

Seeing Red Records store

Disorder Recordings website

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Endtime & Cosmic Reaper, Doom Sessions Vol. 7

Realized at the formidable behest of Heavy Psych Sounds, the seventh installment of the Doom Sessions series (Vol. 8 is already out) brings together Sweden’s strongly cinematic sludge-doomers Endtime with fire-crackling North Carolinian woods-doomers Cosmic Reaper. With two songs from the former and three from the latter, the balance winds up with more of an EP feel from Cosmic Reaper and like a single with an intro from Endtime, who dedicate the first couple of minutes of “Tunnel of Life” to a keyboard intro that’s very likely a soundtrack reference I just don’t know because I’m horror-ignorant before getting down to riff-rumble-roll business on the righteously slow-raging seven minutes of “Beyond the Black Void.” Cosmic Reaper, meanwhile, have three cuts, with harmonized guitars entering “Sundowner” en route to a languid and melodic nod verse, a solo later answering the VHS atmosphere of Endtime before “Dead and Loving It” and “King of Kings” cult-doom their way into oblivion, the latter picking up a bit of momentum as it pushes near the eight-minute mark. It’s a little uneven, considering, but Doom Sessions Vol. 7 provides a showcase for two of Heavy Psych Sounds‘ up-and-coming acts, and that’s pretty clearly the point. If it leads to listeners checking out their albums after hearing it, mission accomplished.

Endtime on Facebook

Cosmic Reaper on Facebook

Heavy Psych Sounds website

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High Priest, Invocation

Don’t skip this because of High Priest‘s generic-stoner-rock name. The Chicago four-piece of bassist/vocalist Justin Valentino, guitarists Pete Grossmann and John Regan and drummer Dan Polak make an awaited full-length debut with Invocation on Magnetic Eye Records, and if the label’s endorsement isn’t enough, I’ll tell you the eight-song/44-minute long-player is rife with thoughtful construction, melody and heft. Through the opening title-track and into the lumber, sweep and boogie of “Divinity,” they incorporate metal with the two guitars and some of the vocal patterning, but aren’t beholden to that anymore than to heavy rock, and far from unipolar, “Ceremony” gives a professional fullness of sound that “Cosmic Key” ups immediately to round out side A before “Down in the Park” hints toward heavygaze without actually tipping over, “Universe” finds the swing buried under that monolithic fuzz, “Conjure” offers a bluesier but still huge-sounding take and 7:40 closer “Heaven” layers a chorus of self-harmonizing Valentinos to underscore the point of how much the vocals add to the band. Which is a lot. What’s lost in pointing that out is just how densely weighted their backdrop is, and the nuance High Priest bring to their arrangements throughout, but whether you want to dig into that or just learn the words and sing along, you can’t lose.

High Priest on Facebook

Magnetic Eye Records store

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MiR, Season Unknown

Its catharsis laced in every stretch of the skin-peeling tremolo and echoing screams of “Altar of Liar,” Season Unknown arrives as the first release from Poland’s MiR, a directly-blackened spinoff of heavy psych rockers Spaceslug, whose guitarist/vocalist Bartosz Janik and bassist/vocalist Jan Rutka feature along with guitarist Michał Zieleniewski (71tonman) and drummer Krzystof Kamisiński (Burning Hands). The relationship to Janik and Rutka‘s other (main?) band is sonically tenuous, though Spaceslug‘s Kamil Ziółkowski also guests on vocals, making it all the more appropriate that MiR stands as a different project. Ripping and progressive in kind, cuts like “Lost in Vision” and the blastbeaten severity of “Ashen” are an in-genre rampage, and while “Sum of All Mourn” is singularly engrossing in its groove, the penultimate “Yesterday Rotten” comes through as willfully stripped to its essential components until its drifting finish, which is fair enough ahead of the more expansive closer “Illusive Loss of Inner Frame,” which incorporates trades between all-out gnash and atmospheric contemplations. I won’t profess to be an expert on black metal, but as a sidestep, Season Unknown is both respectfully bold and clearly schooled in what it wants to be.

MiR on Facebook

MiR on Bandcamp

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Hiram-Maxim, Colder

Recorded by esteemed producer Martin Bisi (Swans, Sonic Youth, Unsane, etc.) in 2021-’22, Colder is Hiram-Maxim‘s third full-length, with hints of Angels of Light amid the sneering heaviness of “Bathed in Blood” after opener/longest track (immediate points) “Alpha” lays out the bleak atmosphere in which what follows will reside. “Undone” gets pretty close to laying on the floor, while “It Feels Good” very pointedly doesn’t for its three minutes of dug-in cafe woe, from out of which “Hive Mind” emerges with keys and drums forward in a moody verse before the post-punk urgency takes more complete hold en route to a finish of manipulated noise. As one would have to expect, “Shock Cock” is a rocker at heart, and the lead-in from the drone/experimental spoken word of “Time Lost Time” holds as a backdrop so that its Stooges-style comedown heavy is duly weirded out. Is that a theremin? Possibly. They cap by building a wall of malevolence and contempt with “Sick to Death” in under three minutes, resolving in a furious assault of kitchen-sink volume, that, yes, recedes, but is resonant enough to leave scratches on your arm. Don’t let anyone tell you this isn’t extreme music just because some dude isn’t singing about killing some lady or quoting a medical dictionary. Colder could just as easily have been called ‘Volcanic.’

Hiram-Maxim on Facebook

Wax Mage Records on Facebook

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The Heavy Co., Brain Dead

Seeming always to be ready with a friendly, easy nod, Lafayette/Indianapolis, Indiana’s The Heavy Co. return with “Brain Dead” as a follow-up single to late-2022’s “God Damn, Jimmy.” The current four-piece incarnation of the band — guitarist/vocalist Ian Daniel, guitarist Jeff Kaleth, bassist Eric Bruce and drummer TR McCully — seem to be refocused from some of the group’s late-’10s departures, elements of outlaw country set aside in favor of a rolling riff with shades of familiar boogie in the start-stops beneath its solo section, a catchy but largely unassuming chorus, and a theme that, indeed, is about getting high. In one form or another, The Heavy Co. have been at it for most of the last 15 years, and in a little over four minutes they demonstrate where they want their emphasis to be — a loose, jammy feel held over from the riffout that probably birthed the song in the first place coinciding with the structure of the verses and chorus and a lack of pretense that is no less a defining aspect than the aforementioned riff. They know what they’re doing, so let ’em roll on. I don’t know if the singles are ahead of an album release or not, but whatever shows up whenever it does, The Heavy Co. are reliable in my mind and this is right in their current wheelhouse.

The Heavy Co. on Facebook

The Heavy Co. on Bandcamp

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The Cimmerian, Sword & Sorcery Vol. I

The intervening year since L.A.’s The Cimmerian made their debut with Thrice Majestic (review here) seems to have made the trio even more pummeling, as their Sword & Sorcery Vol. I two-songer finds them incorporating death and extreme metal for a feel like a combined-era Entombed on leadoff “Suffer No Guilt” which is a credit to bassist Nicolas Rocha‘s vocal burl as well as the intensity of riff from David Gein (ex-The Scimitar) and corresponding thrash gallop in David Morales‘ drumming. The subsequent “Inanna Rising” is slower, with a more open nod in its rhythm, but no less threatening, with fluid rolls of double-kick pushing the verse forward amid the growls and an effective scream, a sample of something (everything?) burning, and a kick in pace before the solo about halfway into the track’s 7:53. If The Cimmerian are growing more metal, and it seems they are, then the aggression suits them as the finish of “Inanna Rising” attests, and the thickness of sludge carried over in their tonality assures that the force of their impact is more than superficial.

The Cimmerian on Facebook

The Cimmerian on Bandcamp

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Nepaal, Protoaeolianism

Released as an offering from the amorphous Hungarian collective Psychedelic Source Records, the three-song Protoaeolianism arrives under the moniker of Nepaal — also stylized as :nepaal, with the colon — finding mainstay Bence Ambrus on guitar with Krisztina Benus on keys, Dávid Strausz on bass, Krisztián Megyeri on drums and Marci Bíró on effects/synth for captured-in-the-moment improvisations of increasing reach as space and psych and krautrocks comingle with hypnotic pulsations on “Innoxial Talent Parade” (9:54), the centerpiece “Brahman Sleeps 432 Billion Years” (19:14) and “Ineffable Minor States” (13:44), each of which has its arc of departure, journey and arrival, forming a multi-stage narrative voyage that’s as lush as the liquefied tones and sundry whatever-that-was noises. “Ineffable Minor States” is so serene in its just-guitar start that the first time I heard it I thought the song had cut off, but no. They’re just taking their time, and why shouldn’t they? And why shouldn’t we all take some time to pause, engage mindfully with our surroundings, experience or senses one at a time, the things we see, hear, touch, taste, smell? Maybe Protoaeolianism — instrumental for the duration — is a call to that. Maybe it’s just some jams from jammers and I shouldn’t read anything else into it. Here then, as in all things, you choose your own adventure. I’m glad to be the one to tell you this is an adventure worth taking.

Psychedelic Source Records on Facebook

Psychedelic Source Records on Bandcamp

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Hope Hole, Beautiful Doom

There is much to dig into on the second full-length from Toledo, Ohio, duo Hope Hole — the returning parties of Matt Snyder and Mike Mulholland — who offer eight originals and a centerpiece cover of The Cure‘s “Sinking” that’s not even close to being the saddest thing on the record, titled Beautiful Doom presumably in honor of the music itself. Leadoff “Spirits on the Radio” makes me nostalgic for a keyboard-laced goth glory day that never happened while also tapping some of mid-period Anathema‘s abiding downer soul, seeming to speak to itself as much as the audience with repetitions of “You reap what you sew.” Some Godflesh surfaces in “600 Years,” and they’re resolute in the melancholy of “Common Sense” until the chugging starts, like a dirtier, underproduced Crippled Black Phoenix. Rolling with deceptive momentum, the title-track could be acoustic until it starts with the solo and electronic beats later before shifting into the piano, beats, drift guitar, and so on of “Sinking.” “Chopping Me” could be an entire band’s sound but it’s barely a quarter of what Hope Hole have to say in terms of aesthetic two records deep. “Mutant Dynamo” duly punks its arthouse sludge and shreds a self-aware over-the-top solo in the vein of Brendan Small, while “Pyrokinetic” revives earlier goth swing with a gruff biker exterior (I’d watch that movie) and a moment of spinning weirdo triumph at the end, almost happy to be burned, where the seven-minute finale “Cities of Gold” returns to beats over its gradual guitar start, emerging with chanting vocals to become its own declaration of progressive intent. Beautiful Doom ends with a steady march rather than the expected blowout, having built its gorgeous decay out of the same rotten Midwestern ground as the debut — 2021’s Death Can Change (review here) — but moved unquestionably forward from it.

Hope Hole on Facebook

Hope Hole on Bandcamp

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Didn’t we just do this? Yeah, kind of. It’s been a weird season, but I knew last month when I launched the Spring 2023 Quarterly Review that it needed to be more than two full weeks and given the timing of everything else slated around then and now, this is what worked to make it happen. For what it’s worth, I have QRs scheduled for July and early October, subject to change, of course.

The bottom line either way is it’s another batch of 50 reviews this week and then that’s a wrap for Spring. It’s a constant barrage of music these days anyhow, and I’m forever behind on everything, but I hope at least you can find something here you dig, whether previously familiar or not. We go.

Quarterly Review #1-10:

HIGH LEAF, Vision Quest

An awaited debut from this Philadelphia heavy rock scene outfit, HIGH LEAF‘s Vision Quest makes its home among heavy tropes (also some minute cultural appropriation in the title) with unabashed glee and deceptively sharp songwriting. Certainly opener “Green Rider” is perfectly willing to beat you over the head with its chorus — and rightly so, you have it coming — but the spacious title-track that follows stretches over eight minutes and seamlessly works through drift and heavy psych impulses to get to the post-grunge roll that makes its increasingly aggro presence known past six minutes in, and that’s by no means the final bit of sludge to be had as the later “Hard to Find” leans toward nastiness only to be offset by the funky outset of “Painted Desert,” having pushed deeper from the Kyussery of “Dead Eye” and a swagger in “Subversive” worthy of comparison to Earthride. This lineup of the band has already split (there’s a new one, no worries), and how that reboot will affect HIGH LEAF going forward obviously remains to be seen, but this is a ‘serving notice’-type debut, doubling down on that in closing duo “March to the Grave” and “The Rot,” and the eight songs and 38 minutes commune with groove and riffs like they’ve been speaking the language the whole time. There’s definitely a vision at work. Let’s see where the quest takes them.

HIGH LEAF on Facebook

HIGH LEAF on Bandcamp

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JAAW, Supercluster

Fucking hell I wish this was what the future sounded like. It rocks. It’s interesting. It’s driven to be its own thing despite traceable roots. It’s got edge but it’s not hackneyed. It’s the tomorrow we were promised when industrial rock and metal became a thing in the 1990s and that corporate alt-everything and pop-punk usurped. I knew I wanted to write about it now, because it’s coming out now, but I’ll tell you honestly, I’ve barely scratched the surface of JAAW‘s Svart-issued debut, Supercluster — recorded at Bear Bites Horse in London by Wayne Adams, who’s also in the band alongside Andy Cairns of Therapy?, Mugstar‘s Jason Stoll and Adam Betts (of Squarepusher and others) — and this is the kind of album that’s going to be years in revealing itself. How about this? Sometime in 2028, if this site is still here, I’ll follow-up and let you know what I’ve found digging into the sinister groove of “Rot” or the shout-kraut rumble and noise of “Bring Home the Motherlode, Barry,” “The Dead Drop” going from minimalism to full heavy New Wave wash in five minutes’ time, and so on, but for right now, let it serve as the cannonball to be lobbed at anyone who says there aren’t any acts out there doing new things or pushing different styles forward, because hell’s bells, that’s the only place this goes even as it also seems to go everywhere at the same time, unto closing out with a Björk cover “Army of Me” as imagined by Ministry doing ’90s drum ‘n’ bass. Some things are just bigger than the year of their release, and I look forward to living with this record.

JAAW on Facebook

Svart Records website

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The Bridesmaid, Come on People Now, Smile on Your Brother

From the opening drone-and-toy-chime-forward over industrial black metal of “Leytonstone: Eat Your Landlord” through the sample-fed machine sludge-turned-psych experimentalism that gives way to a shimmering haze of jazz metal in “Cleveland: And the Rain Came Down” and the can’t-fool-me-by-now acoustic strum at the start of “Summerland: A Long, Maintenance-Free Life” that runs a current of cello under its aural collage and low-end lumber early only to bask in news-and-drone departure with percussion later on the way to what post-hardcore could still someday be, the name of the EP is Come on People Now, Smile on Your Brother and The Bridesmaid deliver the proceedings in a manner more suited to Kurt Cobain‘s fuckall rasp of that line rather than the Youngbloods original. So it’s probably the latter. In any case, the UK solo-plus-friends outfit helmed and steered by JJ Saddington are an aural barrage, and while the temptation is to think of the three-song/21-minute offering as a blender on liquefy, the truth is the material is more thought out, more considerately mixed, and more engaging, than that kind of spastic randomness implies. If you can keep up with the changes, the adventure of listening is well worth the ankles sprained in its twists, but you should go into it knowing that the challenge is part of the appeal.

The Bridesmaid on Facebook

The Bridesmaid on Bandcamp

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Milana, Milvus

If the hard push and tonal burl of comparatively straight-ahead opener “The Last Witch” aren’t convincing, stick around through “Celestial Bird Spirit” and “Impermanence” on the rest of side A before you resolve one way or the other as regards Milana‘s debut album, Milvus. The Mallorca-based four-piece are for sure in conversation with fest-ready modern European heavy rock, and that’s the thread that weaves throughout the album, but in the 11-minute “Impermanance,” they build on the more temperate rollout of “Celestial Bird Spirit” and find an intriguing blend of atmosphere and dense fuzz, more moody than psychedelic, but smart to hold back its weightiest tonality for the rolling end. Appropriately enough, “Lucid Reality” brings them back to ground at the start of side B, but still has an atmospheric effect in its verse, with vocal layering over open-spaced guitar and an alt-rock pickup as they move toward the chorus, and Howling Wolf gives a class-conscious definition of the blues, in the long intro of “Gray City Lights,” setting a difficult standard for the rest of the song to match, but the organ helps. And all seems well and fine for “Whispering Wind” to wrap up mirroring the rocker “The Last Witch” at the start until the song breaks, the harmony starts, and then the growls and massive fuzz start in the last minute and it turns out they were metal all along. Go figure. There’s growing to do, but there’s more happening on Milvus than one listen will tell you, and that in itself is a good sign.

Milana on Instagram

Milana on Spotify

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New Mexican Doom Cult, Necropolis

Swedish upstart four-piece New Mexican Doom Cult offer a distinctly Monolordian weep of lead guitar on “Seven Spirits,” but even that is filtered through the band’s own take, and that’s true of their first full-length, Necropolis more generally, as the Gävle outfit now comprised of guitarist/vocalist/principal songwriter Nils Ahnland, guitarist Johan Klyven Kvastegård, bassist Emil Alstermark and drummer Jonathan Ekvall present seven songs and 48 minutes of dug-in rockers, distortion keyed to its fuzziest degree as Ahnland hints vocally on “Underground” toward a root in darker and more metallic fare ahead of the chugging build that rounds out the eight-minute centerpiece title-track and the make-doom-swing ethic being followed in closer “Worship the Sun.” “Vortex” is a highlight for the melody as much as the double-dose of nodfuzz guitar work, and opener “Architect” sets an atmospheric course but assures that the sense of movement is never really gone, something that’s a benefit even to the righteous Sabbath blowout verse in the penultimate “Archangel.” Much of what they’re doing will be familiar to experienced heads, but not unwelcome for that.

New Mexican Doom Cult on Facebook

Ozium Records on Bandcamp

Olde Magick Records on Bandcamp

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Gentle Beast, Gentle Beast

Capable double-guitar heavy rock pervades the 43-minute Gentle Beast by the Swiss five-piece of the same name. Mixed by Jeff Henson of Duel and issued through Sixteentimes Music, the eight-song run is defined by knowing itself as stoner rock, and that remains true as “Super Sapiens” departs into its post-midsection jam, eventually returning to the chorus, which is almost unfortunately hooky. “Greedy Man” is almost purely Kyuss in its constructed pairing of protest and riff, but the “Caterpillar” shows a different side of the band’s character in its smooth volume shifts, winding leads and understated finish, leading into the sharper-edged outset of closer “Toxic Times.” In the forward thrust of “Joint Venture,” the opener “Asteroid Miner” with its gruff presentation, and the speedier swing of “Headcage” reinforcing the vocal reference to Samsara Blues Experiment in the leadoff, Gentle Beast tick all the boxes they need to tick for this debut long-player some four years after the band’s initial 7″ single, setting up multiple avenues of possible and hopeful progression while proving dexterous songwriters in the now. Won’t change your life, but isn’t trying to convince you it will, either.

Gentle Beast on Facebook

Sixteentimes Music store

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Bloodsports, Bloodsports

Denver four-piece Bloodsports — also stylized all-lowercase: bloodsports — give a heavygaze impression with “Sky Mall” at the launch of their self-titled debut EP that the subsequent “Crimp” gleefully pulls the rug right from under with a solo section like All Them Witches grew up listening to The Cure after its Weezery verse, and the proceedings only gets grungier from there with the low-key Nirvana brooding of “Sustain” (also issued in 2022 as a standalone single) and its larger-scale, scorch-topped distorted finish and the shaker-inclusive indie ritual that is “Carnival” until it explodes into a blowout ending like the release of tension everyone always wanted but never actually got from Violent Femmes. Some noisy skronk guitar finishes over the hungover fuzz, which is emblematic of the way the entire release — only 11 minutes long, mind you — derives its character from the negative space, from its smaller moments of nuance, as well as from its fuller-sounding stretches. They’re young and they sound it, but there’s a sonic ideal being chased through the material and Bloodsports may yet carve their aural persona from that chase. As it is, the emotive aspects on display in “Sustain” and the volatility shown in the roll of “Sky Mall” make in plain that this project has places it wants to go and areas to explore, and one hopes Bloodsports continue to bring their ideas together with such fluidity.

Bloodsports on Instagram

Candlepin Records on Bandcamp

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Night Fishing, Live Bait

Recorded seemingly almost entirely live on audio and video, vibrancy would seem to be the underpinning that draws Night Fishing‘s Live Bait together, if fishing isn’t. The Denver four-piece are a relatively new formation, with guitarists Graham Zander (also Green Druid) and Zach Amster (Abrams), bassist Justin Sanderson (Muscle Beach) and drummer Gordon Koch (Call of the Void) all coming together from their sundry other projects to explore a space between the kosmiche, heavy rock and semi-improv jamming. The turns and fills and crashes that round out the second of three cuts, “No Services,” for example, feel off-the-cuff, but throughout most of “Alone With My Thoughts” and at least in the initial Slift-like shuffle at the start of “Slapback Twister,” there’s a plan at work. At 25 minutes, they’re only about a song shy of making Live Bait a full-length — though another track might mess up the shortest-to-longest and alphabetical ordering Live Bait has now, which are fun — but the instrumentalist exploration is suited to the nascent feel of the outfit, and while I don’t think Night Fishing is anybody’s only band here, if they can build on the sense of purpose they give to the jangly rhythm and airy solo of “Slapback Twister” and the right-on push of “Alone With My Thoughts,” they can make their records as long or as short as they want and they’re still bound to catch ears.

Night Fishing on Instagram

Brutal Panda Records website

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Wizard Tattoo, Fables of the Damned

Following last year’s self-titled debut EP, Indianapolis solo-project Wizard Tattoo cuts itself open and bleeds DIY on the seven songs and 40 minutes of the self-recorded, self-released Fables of the Damned, beginning with distinct moments of departure in opener “Wizard Van” and “The Black Mountain Pass,” the latter of which returns to its gutted-out chorus with maestro Bram the Bard (who also did the cover) cutting through the tonescape of his own creation to underscore the structure at work. There are stories to be told in “The Vengeful Thulsa Dan” and the folkish “Any Which Way but Tuned,” which brings together acoustics and chanting like a gamer version of Wovenhand, deep-mixed tom thud peppered throughout while the chimes are more forward, while the seven-minute “The Ghost of Doctor Beast” picks up with the slowest and most doomed of the included rollouts, “God Damn This Wizard Tattoo” ups the tempo with a catchy chorus, a little bit of mania in the hi-hat under the guitar solo, and hints dropped in the bassline of the grunge aspects soon to be highlighted in instrumental closer “Abendrote.” The sense of character is bigger than the production, and that balance is something that will need to be ironed out over time, but the dug-in curio aspects of Fables of the Damned make it engaging, whatever it may or may not lead toward.

Wizard Tattoo on Facebook

Wizard Tattoo on Bandcamp

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Nerver & Chat Pile, Brothers in Christ Split

I’ll never claim to be anything more than a dilettante when it comes to noise rock, and I’ll tell you outright that Kansas City’s Nerver are new to me as of this Brothers in Christ split with Oklahoma City’s Chat Pile, but both acts are coming from a strong Midwestern tradition of post-industrial (talking economy not genre) disaffection and building on momentum from strong 2022 releases, those being Nerver‘s even-the-CD-sold-out (aha! but not from the label! got it!) sophomore full-length CASH and Chat Pile‘s much-lauded debut, God’s Country (review here), and the scream-topped bombast of the one and volatile emotive antipoetry of the other make fitting companions across the included four songs, as Nerver‘s “Kicks in the Sky” underscores its jabs with deep low rumble as a bed for the harshly delivered verse and “The Nerve” shoves itself faceward in faster and less angular fashion, consuming like Chicago post-metal but pissed off like Midwestern hardcore while Chat Pile build through “King” en route to the panicked slaughter of “Cut,” which is sure enough to trigger fight-or-flight in your brain before its sub-five-minute run is up. Neither arrives at this point without hype behind them, both would seem to have earned it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go put on that Nerver album and play a bit of catchup.

Chat Pile on Instagram

Nerver on Facebook

Reptilian Records website

The Ghost is Clear Records website

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Whatever you might ultimately think of KISS — whether you remember the first time you heard “Detroit Rock City” and it changed your life forever or you’ve been put off by the unbridled moneygrabs of their decades spent merchandising instead of creating and/or turned off by periodic clueless statements about how rock is dead rooted in their own declining ticket sales; or, you know, maybe a bit of both — there’s no denying they’re an institution in heavy rock and roll and hot damn, could they write a hook. Many hooks, in fact. Enough that they’re still celebrating them half a century after the fact and one can’t really argue.

Maybe the 50th anniversary of KISS is something you’re celebrating in your household and maybe not — for what it’s worth, I think their impact has been both positive and negative, like most things — it certainly seems fair enough that Indiana’s Wolftooth are marking the occasion. The song of course comes from KISS‘ self-titled debut, released on Feb. 18, 1974, and while staying true to the original structure and don’t-need-nothing-fancy-when-you-have-songs sensibility of the band who first made it, Wolftooth‘s treatment recalls the heavy they brought to 2021’s unafraid-to-go-big Blood & Iron (review here), which was released through Napalm Records, and if the cover tune is a stopgap on the way to the four-piece’s next LP, you’re not about to hear me argue the point. Dudes are rockin’ it.

Their announcement was quick, to the point, and unlike this post, right in time for Bandcamp Friday. Here it is:

Today we celebrate 50 yrs of one of the most iconic bands in rock history. This song was so much fun to do and we are truly honored to have had the chance to pay tribute the only way we know how! ⚔️(#128058#)⚔️

If you would like to purchase the song available for download at our bandcamp and streaming on all services.

https://www.facebook.com/wolftoothmetal/
https://www.instagram.com/wolftooth_metal/
https://wolftooth.bandcamp.com/

Wolftooth, “100,000 Years” (KISS Cover)

On Friday, Feb. 10, Indianapolis five-piece Veilcaste will release their new album, Precipice, through Wise Blood Records. It is their third album somewhat retroactively. Formerly known as Conjurer and begun in 2010 under that name, the five-piece became Veilcaste in 2020 (didn’t we all?) and the seven-song/40-minute Precipice is their first long-player with the newer moniker following a split last year with Tusk, also on Wise Blood. The downer sludge metal crux of the record is near immediate, and from the first “ough” in opener “Asunder Skies” which is followed promptly by “I said, ‘ough'” — quite literally the first words on the first song — the album lets you know you’re in for a walls-closing-in crunch.

The guttural barks of “aurora” in the chorus from vocalist Dustin Mendel — it becomes “uh-ruh-ruh” — backed with growls by guitarist John Rau cross genre lines between death-doom, sludge and a kind of underground late ’90s groove metal, reminiscent of the self-directed wretchedness of Pissing Razors or Skinlab but here transposing that disaffection onto the weighted tones of Rau and Brian Wyrick‘s riffs, the depth in Gabe Whitcomb‘s bass and the midtempo plod in Chris Cruz‘s drums to which the entire album seems to march.

Bookending with closer “Empty Hell” (the longest track at 7:10), “Asunder Skies” is a grim beginning for describing something so mindbogglingly beautiful — i.e. aurora borealis — and that’s not the last time Precipice surprises with its point of view. “Dust and Bone” is dude-regretful from its held-out verse riff to its dejected chorus — “I’ve never believed I’m anything more to you/Than wasted time,” sung in a cleaner delivery — and “Drag Me Down” answers immediately with more severe chug, lead guitar positioned over a chug that lives up to the title it’s been given, dense and consuming.

A heads-down groove is locked into place after the midsection solo, filled out by deceptively floaty lead lines, pushing everything into that chug and reminding a bit of some of -(16)-‘s slower intensities, but soon shifting into more extreme fare with low-register melodic vocals, seeming all the more metallic ahead of the distraught agonies of centerpiece “For Us,” which manifests an even-more outright misery. It is the shortest inclusion at 4:11, but gets its point across in even less time than that, with an intensity of emotion set to a crash-laden nod, tense like the fist you didn’t realize you were keeping closed until your fingernails dug into your palm, and ending suddenly into the deeper thuds and rumble at the outset of “Relapse in Reason.”

As Precipice — and to be sure, by this point we’re well over the edge — lumbers forward in its sadness, disaffection and mostly-inward aggro loathing, the back and forth between songs on either side of six minutes, longer, shorter, longer, shorter, longer, shorter, longer, lends momentum to the proceedings in such a way as to underscore the collection as more third full-length than first, as much as the uptick in production value (the band recorded at Earth Analog and with Carl Byers at Clandestine Arts Recording, who also mixed; Collin Jordan mastered) gives fresh vibrancy to so much death. “Relapse in Reason” is particularly consuming, bordering on hypnotic in its middle as it rears back to unleash its repeated title line almost like a chant with deep-mixed echoes filling it out and some flourish of guitar melody.

They kick into a kind of harsh meander for a bridge and end with a few punkish lines as though to remind everyone where the sludge comes from before the penultimate “A Gasp of Air” seems to call out YOB circa 2005 in name as well as chug. A mounting intensity is bolstered by the backing vocals behind Mendel, and the turn to a more angular breakdown is made that much smoother with the fluidity of the two guitars driving it, working their way into and through winding crashes en route to an instrumental stretch that, if it doesn’t have organ — that is, if it’s guitar effects or some such — certainly sounds like it.

“A Gasp of Air” finishes suddenly, as it would, and the arrival at “Empty Hell” is announced by standalone guitar and an unfolding into a massive but more patient procession, opening in the verse and allowing space for the shouts that emerge there before the okay-that’s-definitely-organ returns alongside a layer of soloing guitar in the chorus, Veilcaste almost sneaking in melody where they can amid all the crush. Are they offering hope? Not really. I mean, the song is called “Empty Hell,” and it crashes out after four minutes into a kind of group-chant, drawling, zombie anguish, what one imagines the dead sound like on the other side of the wall to the Dry Land in Earthsea.

At the same time, the guitars, drums and bass push into a part that’s an apex more emotionally than in raw volume, but clearly what earned “Empty Hell” its spot as the finale, likewise mournful and angry, before turning back to a last, heavier, darker pummel, ending with one more slow-spit fury and a heavy silence after. Through its various turns of purpose, the songs are pulled together by tone, by the vocals and indeed by the emotional expression that coincides with the heft on display. Weighted, dense and aggressive as it is, Precipice isn’t so much mad at you as it is pulling you into its viewpoint of a world that isn’t what it should or could be.

No argument there, but it’s worth considering that “Asunder Skies,” the opener so many despairing moments ago, was agape at a natural phenomenon. The problem, then, is anthropocene. No argument there either. There is a kind of omnidirectional anger in the material — one always wants to shout that the real problem is capitalism, especially for US bands — but whether it’s an airier lead line or a quick break ahead of the next onslaught, there is a dynamic at play around the central, core grim impression of the songs. One way or the other, Precipice reads like a fist to the brain and, with little actual fanfare, pretense or bullshit, creates an atmosphere no less extreme than its most bitter despondencies. And one way or the other, Veilcaste are impressively pissed off and able to write songs about it without coming apart at their foundation. That is not nothing, considering.

Some comment from the band, preorder link and PR wire info follow the full stream of Precipice below.

Please enjoy:

Dustin Mendel on Precipice:

“Our last album, Sigils, was roughly about amateur occultists and magick users and the consequences that come from misunderstanding or getting their info from unreliable sources. Basically they didn’t do their homework and it bites them in the ass. Our new album, Precipice, is the other side of that coin. It’s more about taking your time, learning from a master, real grimoire, and having an actual understanding of the science of magick. Their intentions are true and their techniques tested and perfected. That doesn’t mean their end goal is always good, but they succeed in their endeavor rather than the cosmos nearly destroying them for misuse. This record is also the most personal in terms of lyrics. We drew from what’s been going on in our lives over the last 4 years and all of the changes we’ve gone through in that time.”

Pre-Order on Bandcamp: https://veilcaste.bandcamp.com/album/precipice

Wise Blood Records presents “Precipice,” the new album from Indianapolis doom titans VEILCASTE. World-ending heaviness for fans of emotive sludge (Yob, Neurosis), crushing doom (Electric Wizard, Conan), and even death/gloom like Mother of Graves and Tiamat. Recorded and mixed by Carl Byers at Clandestine Arts. Mastered by Collin Jordan, who has worked with Yob, Cough, Windhand, Pelican, and Apostle of Solitude.

Originally formed as Conjurer in the winter of 2010, the band changed names to Veilcaste in early 2020. After releasing Veilcaste’s split with Tusk in 2022, Wise Blood is proud to work with them on this exceptional record. The stunning cover art by SoloMacello is going to look amazing on Vinyl and Jewel Case CD. Veilcaste’s riffs are heavier than dying stars. Venture into the darkness and press play.

Recorded at Earth Analog & Clandestine Arts Recording
Engineered & Mixed by Carl Byers at Clandestine Arts Recording
Mastered by Collin Jordan at The Boiler Room

Layout by John Rau Design
Cover Art by Luca Martinotti/SoloMacello
Photos by Gary Cooper

Veilcaste is:
Chris Cruz – Drums
Dustin Mendel – Vocals
John Rau – Guitar & Vocals
Gabe Whitcomb – Bass
Brian Wyrick – Guitar

Veilcaste on Facebook

Veilcaste on Instagram

Veilcaste on Bandcamp

Wise Blood Records on Facebook

Wise Blood Records on Instagram

Wise Blood Records on Bandcamp

Wise Blood Records website

Evansville, Indiana’s Faerie Ring will release their second album, Weary Traveler, on April 14 through cooperation between King Volume Records, Wise Blood Records and Kozmik Artifactz. The follow-up to 2019’s The Clearing (review here), the album is a six-song beast of mammoth fuzz and doomly celebration, presented across two three-song sides running 40 minutes with to-tape production by Alex Kercheval at Postal Recording Studio, dialed in for largesse from the outset on its leadoff title-track and “Silver Man in the Sky” (premiering below), moving between slowed-down ’80s-metal-at-night chug and lumbering still-kind-of-a-party doom, catchy all the while and setting out on the journey not so much weary as resolute.

“Weary Traveler” is the shortest song here at 5:05 — it bookends with closer “Motor Boss” at 5:37 — and though it’s among the more unabashedly massive, “Silver Man in the Sky” is emblematic of the accessibility of the album as a whole at 6:36 of fluidly unfolding plod, more intricate in its weaving together layers of Kyle Hulgus‘ and James Wallwork‘s guitars (the latter also handles vocals) atop the emergent roll and will to boogie that’s made to flow so well through Alex Wallwork‘s bass and Joey Rhew‘s drumming.

Whether it’s the turn of “Weary Traveler” to an almost bomb-tone nod filled out by swirling feedback later, the apparently-hammer-on-a-pan bangs mixed well into the rhythm of “Silver Man in the Sky,” the slowed-down The Sword twists in the second half of “Never Rains at Midnite,” or the noisy intro to the shoving “Lover” on side B after the nine-minute psych-doom outbound adventure of “Endless Color / Dope Purple,” the shimmering latter stretch of which reminds of some of King Buffalo‘s ambient flourish after so much by marching, or the harmonica-laced shuffle and swing of the speedier-but-still-thick “Motor Boss,” each piece on Weary Traveler offers something to distinguish it from the bunch while adding to the overarching scope of the album.

The narrative — blessings and peace upon it — has it that this is the result of the fact that, while the band recorded live, being in the studio with Kercheval for a week allowed them time to experiment and flesh out happy accidents during the recording, try new ideas and offbeat ways of doing things. Fair enough. That’s not something every act gets to do, and Weary Traveler is indeed stronger for the attention to detail, but the real story of the album is more about the growth in songwriting and the clarity of the band’s presentation even as they drop to noise before the finish in “Lover” or the fact that “Endless Color / Dope Purple” — which, yes, does have some organ on it — is able to move from its initial march into its long stretch of hypnotic drift with such organic seeming care.

So, attention to detail. Fine. But Weary Traveler has some funk to it too tucked in amidst the doom. The relatively uptempo beginning and bassy punch in “Never Rains at Midnite,” the blues-via-tonal-wash of “Motor Boss,” and even the direct transition from “Lover” that leads into it are emblematic of Weary Traveler functioning as a good time, daring to have and to be fun, and that doesn’t necessarily feel transgressive as much as it’s simply something not every band is willing to do. It makes the listening experience front to back on Weary Traveler easier to undertake — the record is not at all the slog its title might imply — and even in the construction of the tracklist, how they start side B with “Endless Color / Dope Purple” before the (relatively) speedier concluding one-two of “Lover” and “Motor Boss” demonstrates the care put into this particular execution of their craft; a significant step forward from where they were on The Clearing even as it expands on the ideas that first album put forth.

The pan, the piano in “Never Rains at Midnite,” the looping their sounds through an AM radio discussed below, these are nifty bits of nuance and though that sounds like I’m devaluing their effect on the record, I’m not. But without the underlying foundation that’s present here in the songs, Weary Traveler would simply fall flat instead of triumphing as it does.

Still, there’s something insular about these tracks, something dug into itself and its own making — the process as part of the outcome, maybe. And maybe hearing that in the music is what I get for reading the bio and the power of suggestion there, but still, even in the depth of tone between the guitars of Hulgus and Wallwork there’s evidence of just how purposeful each consideration on Weary Traveler is, and even if some ideas were birthed by off-the-cuff studio experiments — I’d also believe “Endless Color / Dope Purple” didn’t have a title before it was recorded, but I don’t know that — that shouldn’t be taken to mean Faerie Ring didn’t have their collective shit together going in to work with Kercheval. At their core, these songs have been ironed out and honed for maximum impact.

Their affect is modern — they sound big, they speak to classic metal early and more cosmic fare later on, and they blur the lines between different heavy styles in between, etc. — and their sound, crushing and spacious in kind, is still developing. After going from one extreme of recording in a basement to the other of working in a pro-shop studio, one might expect them to find a space in between for a crucial third album (unless they decided this is how they want to roll, which would also be understandable, considering the results), but wherever they end up, it seems likely the lessons they learn across Weary Traveler — how to be as much Red Fang as Electric Wizard while being neither, for example — will serve them well as they move forward. What matters more than that, though, is that Faerie Ring declare essential aspects of themselves here and present them to the listener in a spirit of mutual appreciation — because make no mistake, they’re into it too — and righteous, dug-in, weighted revelry.

“Silver Man in the Sky” premieres on the player below, followed by more from the PR wire.

Please enjoy:

Faerie Ring, “Silver Man in the Sky” track premiere

Faerie Ring on “Silver Man in the Sky”:

“The main riff in Silver Man in the Sky was conjured within a dense weed fog mid-2019 at 3am. With it came images of mysterious blades, lightning, and an even more mystifying silver skinned man looming in the æther. If you have an ass, it’ll kick it. Our ode to the almighty Power Trip.

Our hearts might’ve said Power Trip, but our Caveman hands said Electric Wizard. This entire album was recorded live in studio straight to tape just how God intended. Two Sunn Model T’s roaring into infinity. Stacks of ’70s $50 solid state Peaveys were the icing on the cake that really set this track off. By the end of the session, our V’s were flying us.

This was our first foray into recording at a real studio. With that came the ability to experiment and try things outside the box. Objects that weren’t musical all the sudden became the key to unlocking a song. We needed a striking steel sound, therefore I found myself in the booth with a doobie hanging out of my mouth hitting an iron skillet with a hammer into a vintage $20,000 Telefunken Mic then cooking our dinner in it an hour later. What really blew our minds was the pan strike turned out to be in the same key that we were playing and slid in pitch perfect with the rest of the song. Lightning in a bottle kept getting captured over and over like that. I credit that to living at the studio for a week creating this album for your consumption. An undeniable banger for all banging’s sake! A monolithic celebration for all things volume.”

“Endless Color” Rainbow Splatter Variant: https://wisebloodrecords.bandcamp.com/album/weary-traveler

King Volume preorder: https://kingvolumerecords.limitedrun.com/bands/faerie-ring

Kozmik Artifactz preorder: http://shop.bilocationrecords.com/navi.php?suchausdruck=faerie+ring

Faerie Ring – Weary Traveler
Release Date: April 14, 2023
Labels: King Volume Records with Wise Blood Records and European distribution through Kozmik Artifactz

Faerie Ring, the hazy and gloomy stoner doom band from Evansville, Indiana, channels their love for bombastic riffs, soaring vocals, high fantasy, and science fiction into Weary Traveler, a mystical and weed-inspired romp recorded by Alex Kercheval (Coven) and set for release through King Volume Records on April 14, 2023.

Weary Traveler is a marked step forward in the band’s songwriting and recording processes. While their debut album (2019’s The Clearing) was an amalgam of massive riffs recorded in a friend’s basement, Weary Traveler delivers a coordinated and deliberate buffet of cohesive songs meticulously written by the band. Just as important, the album was professionally recorded at Postal Recording Studio in Indianapolis by Alex Kercheval, an essential part of the legendary rock band Coven. Under Kercheval’s guidance, the band recorded directly to tape and took numerous opportunities to experiment in the studio.

“Alex Kercheval is a genius,” says guitarist Kyle Hulgus. “In the beginning of ‘Lover,’ one of our singles, we have a section that sounds like it’s coming through a radio… Well, Alex did this by broadcasting the raw tape tracks over AM radio, then recorded the radio, dialed it in, then bounced that through a series of outboard pre-amps for about 15 seconds. It was amazing.”

Experimentation was a key part of the creative process in Weary Traveler. For “Silver Man In The Sky,” another single, the band wanted the sound of an anvil, so they took an iron skillet (which the band wound up cooking in a few hours later) into the recording booth and bashed it with a hammer in front of a $20,000 Telefunken microphone. As Kyle recalls: “There was a moment in the song where we were sending a signal from a Steinway piano worth more than my house through a Death By Audio Fuzz Delay into a Sunn Model-T. I felt like a mad scientist.”

Working in a professional studio also gave them access to professional equipment for the first time. From the Steinway piano to the Telefunken microphone, the band found the perfect complements to its arsenal of Sunn Model-T & Orange amplifiers and Big Muff & Turbo Rat pedals. With these components combined, the band created an album that is crisper and more focused—while still generating the same loud energy that made The Clearing so impressive. Incredibly, Alex Kercheval managed to capture the entire album in one go, which provided him and the rest of the band with multiple days to perfect the record’s sound.

Weary Traveler is punctuated by three distinctive, enthralling singles: “Silver Man In the Sky,” “Never Rains at Midnight,” and “Lover.” “Silver Man In the Sky” combines massive, Sleep-inspired riffs with Brant Bjork-styled flourishes, “Never Rains At Midnight” is a foot-stomping headbanger that displays traces of Trouble and The Obsessed, while “Lover” channels Fu Manchu energy through a gloomy Doom delivery. Overall, Weary Traveler is a six-pack of masterful riffage and stunning melodies.

Recording: Alex Kercheval & Morgan Satterfield at Postal Recording Studio
Mastering: Cauliflower Audio
Art: Jerry Hionis (@Wyrmwalk)
Logo: Daniel Porta (@thepitforge)

Band: James Wallwork (Guitar & Vocals), Kyle Hulgus (Guitar), Alex Wallwork (Bass), Joey Rhew (Drums)

Faerie Ring on Facebook

Faerie Ring on Instagram

Faerie Ring on Bandcamp

King Volume Records on Facebook

King Volume Records on Bandcamp

King Volume Records store

Wise Blood Records on Facebook

Wise Blood Records on Instagram

Wise Blood Records on Bandcamp

Wise Blood Records website

Kozmik Artifactz store

Kozmik Artifactz on Facebook

Kozmik Artifactz on Instagram

Oh, hello. I didn’t see you come in. What’s going on? Not much. You? Well, you see, it’s just another 10 records for the Quarterly Review, you know how it goes. Yup, day seven. That’s up to 70 records, and it’ll keep going for the rest of this week. Have I mentioned yet I was thinking about adding an 11th day? What can I say, some cool stuff has come along this last week and a half since I’ve been doing this. Better now than in a couple months, maybe. Anyway, make yourself comfortable. Hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading.

Winter 2023 Quarterly Review #61-70:

Jason Simon, Hindsight 2020

What this sweetly melodic and delicately arranged 2022 collection lacks in marketing — the title Hindsight 2020 is accurate in that that’s when it was mostly recorded, but ‘let’s remember an awful time’ is hardly a way to pitch an audience on a vinyl — but as Jason Simon (also Dead Meadow) languidly meanders through covers of Tom Petty (“Crawling Back to You” becomes ethereal post-rock), Jody Reynolds & Bobbie Gentry, The Gun Club, Jackson C. Frank, Bert Jansch and John Prine, the latter of whom passed away after contracting covid-19, without the lockdown from which this record probably wouldn’t exist as it does. Probably not a coincidence. On banjo for three peppered-in originals starting with a relaxed mood-setting intro, as well as guitar, vocals, Moog, bass, Juno-60, and mandolin throughout, Simon and a few companions dig into these folk roots, making them his own and creating a whole-album flow for what might in less capable hands be a hodgepodge of competing influences. As it stands, by the time the melancholy strum of “October” takes hold, Simon has long since succeeded in creating a vibe that rightly has “Ghosts Gather Now” as its centerpiece, pulling as it does from these spirits to make something of its own. 2020 sucked; nobody’s arguing. But at least in hindsight something beautiful can come out of it.

Jason Simon on Bandcamp

Piaptk store

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Smoke, Groupthink

Virginian trio Smoke cast an eye toward the trailblazing heavy psych of Sungrazer on “Temple” from their early 2022 debut album, guitarist Dalton handling the melodic vocals that will soon enough grow throatier in their passionate delivery, but even more than this, Groupthink sees the band — Dalton, guitarist Ben and drummer Alex; first names only — digging full-on into turn-of-the-century-style nodding heavy, shades of Man’s Ruin-era classics from the likes of Acid King, maybe even some of Sons of Otis‘ bombed-out largesse, showing themselves filtered through a next-generational execution, varied enough so as not to be single-minded in idolatry as “Davidian” picks up energy in its late solo, the 18-minute “One Eyed King” earns its lumbering payoff and lines of floating guitar, “The Supplication of Flame” arrives based around acoustic guitar forward in the mix ahead of the electrics (at least at first) and closer “Telah” basks in a righteous stomp that underscores the point. At 58 minutes, Groupthink isn’t a minor undertaking, but it is one of 2022’s most impressive debut albums and laced with potential for what may develop in their sound. It is stronger in craft than one might initially think, and has to be to hold up all that heft in its fuzz.

Smoke on Facebook

Smoke on Bandcamp

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Rifle, Repossessed

Not so much ’70s-style retroism as tapping into a kind of raw, ’90s heavy rock vision — Nebula, Monster Magnet, as well as Peru and greater South America’s own storied history of fuzzmaking — Rifle‘s Repossessed is relatively rough in its production, but as in the best of cases, that becomes a part of its appeal as the Lima-based three-piece of guitarist/bassist/vocalist Alejandro Suni, guitarist Magno Mendoza and drummer Cesar Araujo ride their riffs down the highway and into a fog of tonal buzz, fervent, butt-sized low end and druggy, outsider vibes. “The Thrill is Back” struts coated in road dirt as it is, and that thrill is found likewise in the scorch-psych of “Demon Djinn” and the earlier blowout “Fiend” that follows opener “Seven Thousand Demons” and sets a bluesy lyrical foundation so that six-minute finale “Spirit Rise” seems to offer some sense of realization or, if not that, then at least acceptance of this well-baked way of life. As the band’s first release, this late-2022 seven-song/32-minute offering feels ready to be pressed up on vinyl by some discerning purveyor, if not for the underlying desert rock drive of “Madness” then surely for the swing in “Sonic Rage,” and it’s one of those records that isn’t going to speak to everyone, but is going to hit just right for some others, dug as it is into a niche between what’s come before and its own encapsulation of a red-eyed stoner future.

Rifle on Instagram

Rifle on Bandcamp

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Mother of Graves, Where the Shadows Adorn

If there should be any doubt that Indianapolis’ Mother of Graves are schooled in the sound they’re shooting for, let the fact that Dan Swanö (Katatonia, Opeth, on into infinity) mastered the recording/mix by the band’s own Ben Sandman make it clear where their particular angle on melancholic death-doom is coming from in its grim, wintry soul-dance. Where the Shadows Adorn follows 2020’s likewise-dead-on debut, In Somber Dreams (discussed here), but the stately, poised rollout of a song like “Rain” and the subdued sections before “Of Solitude and Stone” enters its last push, has all the hallmarks of forward growth in songwriting as well as in confidence on the part of the band. Front to back, Where the Shadows Adorn is deathly in its consumption, a fresh interpretation of a moment in history when the likes of Katatonia especially but also acts like My Dying Bride and others of the Peaceville ilk were considered on the extreme end of metal despite their sometimes-grueling tempos. The question remains whether this is where Mother of Graves will reside for the duration or if, like their influences, their depressive streak will grow more melodic with age. As it stands, adorned in shadow, their emotional and atmospheric weight is darkly majestic.

Mother of Graves on Facebook

Wise Blood Records site

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Swarm, Swarm

This self-titled four-songer is the first release from Helsinki, Finland’s Swarm, and though it’s billed as an EP, its 28 minutes are wrought with a substantial flow and unifying melodic complexity due both to the depth of vocal complementary arrangements between singer Hilja Vedenpää and guitarist Panu Willman, as well as the intertwining of Willman and Einari Toiviainen‘s guitars atop the rolling grooves of Leo Lehtonen‘s bass and Dani Paajanen‘s drumming; the whole band operating together with a sense of purpose that goes beyond the standard ‘riff out and see what happens’ beginning of so many bands. A line of rhythmic notes atop the riff in “Nevermore” around five minutes is emblematic of the flourish the band brings to the release, and one would note the grungier float in “There Again,” and the moodier acoustics of “Frail” and the more full-on duet in the verses of closer “We Should Know” — never mind the pre-fade chug that caps or the consuming heft offsetting those verses — as further distinguishing factors. Self-released in June 2022, Swarm‘s Swarm carries the air of a precursor, and though it’s not known yet to precisely what, the note to keep eyes and ears open is well received. To put it another way, they sound very much like they know what they want to be and to accomplish as a group. If they’re heading into a debut album next, they’re ready to take on the task.

Swarm on Facebook

918 Records on Facebook

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Baardvader, Foolish Fires

The self-titled-era Alice in Chains-style vocals on Baardvader‘s second LP, Foolish Fires, make them a ready standout from the slew of up and coming European heavy rollers, but the Den Haag trio have a distinct blend of crunch in their tone and atmosphere surrounding that make a song such as “Understand” memorable for more than just the pleading repetitions of its title in the hook. Opener “Pray” sets a hard-hitting fluidity in motion and “Illuminate” answers back as it caps side A with (dat) bass and airy guitar in an open soundscape soon to be filled with a wall o’ fuzz and more dug-in grunge spirit. As they make their way toward the louder, vocally-layered, highlight-solo finish that the 10-minutes “Echoes” provides, there’s some trace of The Machine‘s noisier affinity in their tones on “Blinded Out,” including the solo, and “Prolong Eternity” culminates with intensity leading into the already-noted closer, but “Echoes” has the throatier shouts — like “Illuminate” before it — to back its case as the destination for where they’ve been headed all along, and works to send Foolish Fires out as a triumphant demonstration of Baardvader‘s appeal, which is relatively straightforward considering how much they nod along the way, their sound sharing grunge’s ability to be aggressive without being metal, heavy without being aggressive, and something of their own that still rings familiar. They’re just beginning to realize their potential, and this record is an important step in that process.

Baardvader on Facebook

Baardvader on Bandcamp

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Love Gang, Meanstreak

Rest easy, you’re in capable hands. And even if you didn’t hear Love Gang‘s 2020 debut, Dead Man’s Game (review here), the fact that the Denver four-piece went down to Austin, Texas, to record with Gian Ortiz of Amplified Heat producing tells you what you need to know about their boogie on Meanstreak. And what you need to know is largely that you want to hear it. As one might expect, ’70s vibes pervade the eight-tracker, which puts the guitars forward and de-emphasizes some of the organ and flute one might’ve encountered on their first LP, saving it for side B’s “Shake This Feelin’,” the six-minute stretchout “Headed Down to Mexico,” and the closing “Fade Away,” where it ties together with the thrust of earlier cuts like the circuitous “Blinded by Fear” (not an At the Gates cover, though that would be fun), or “Deathride” and the title-track, which shove shove shove as the opening pair so “Bad News” can complete the barnburning salvo. Tucked away before the finale is “Same Ol’ Blues,” a harmonica-laced acoustic cut dug out of your cool uncle’s record collection so that some day, if you’re lucky, some shitbird younger relation of yours may come along and find it here in your own record collection, thus perpetuating the cycle of boogie into perpetuity. Humanity should be so lucky.

Love Gang on Facebook

Heavy Psych Sounds store

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Astral Magic, We Are Stardust

The first and probably not last Astral Magic release of 2023, We Are Stardust, finds project-spearhead Santtu Laakso — songwriting, synth, bass, vocals, mixing, cover art, etc. — working mostly in solo fashion. Jonathan Segel of Camper Van Beethoven/Øresund Space Collective adds guitar and violin (he also mastered the recording), and Samuli Sailo plays guitar on “Drop It,” but the 11-song/60-minute space rocker bears the hallmarks of Laakso‘s Hawkwindian craft, the songs rife with layers of synth and effects behind the forward vocals, programmed drums behind bolstering the krautrock feel. There’s a mellower jam like “Bottled Up Inside,” which puts the guitar solo where voice(s) might otherwise be, and “Out in the Cold” touches loosely on Pink Floyd without giving over entirely to that impulse or meandering too far from its central progression, letting the swirling “Lost Planet” and “Violet Sky” finish with a return to the kosmiche of the opening title-track and “The Simulacra,” which feels almost like a return to ground after the proto-New Wave-y “They Walk Among Us,” though “ground” should be considered on relative terms there because by most standards, Astral Magic start, end, and remain sonically in the farther far out.

Astral Magic on Facebook

Astral Magic on Bandcamp

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Thank You Lord for Satan, Thank You Lord for Satan

Self-recorded exploratory songcraft is writ large across the Buh Records self-titled debut from Thank You Lord for Satan — the Lima, Peru, two-piece of Paloma La Hoz (ex-Mitad Humana) and Henry Gates (Resplandor) — and the effect throughout the born-during-pandemic-lockdown eight-song offering is a kind of poised intimacy, artsy and performative as La Hoz handles most of but not all the lead vocals with Gates joining in, as on the moody shoegazer “Wet Morning” ahead of the pointedly Badalamenti-esque “Before EQ1.” Opener “A Million Songs Ago” is a rocker, and “Wet Morning” too in at least its including drums, but that’s only a piece of what Thank You Lord for Satan are digging into, as “Isolation” feels duly empty and religious and “Conversations al Amanecer” and “When We Dance” has a kind of electronic-inflected pop-psych at its core, willfully contrasting the folkish “Sad Song” (with Gates‘ lead vocal) and “Devine Destiny,” a side B counterpart to “Isolation” that reveals the hidden structure beneath all this go-wherever-ism, or at very least ends the album on a suitably contemplative note, some electronic snare-ish sound there rising in the mix before being cast off into the ether with the rest of everything.

Thank You Lord for Satan on Facebook

Buh Records on Bandcamp

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Druid Stone, The Corpse Vanishes

Consider this less a review of The Corpse Vanishes, which is but a single Dec. 2022 three-songer among a glut of releases — including at least one more recent — from Herndon, Virginia’s Druid Stone available through their Bandcamp. The ethic of the band, as led by guitarist Demeter Capsalis, would seem to be as bootleg as possible. Shows are recorded and presented barebones. Rehearsal room demos like “The Corpse Vanishes” and “Night of the Living Dead” — which jams its way into “What Child is This” — here are as raw as raw gets, and in the 20-minute included jam on Electric Wizard‘s “Mother of Serpents,” which was recorded live on Dec. 2 and issued four days later, the power goes out for about three of the first five minutes and Capsalis, who has already explained that most of the band had other stuff to do and that’s why he’s jamming with two friends for the full set, has to keep it going on stage banter alone. Most bands would never release that kind of thing. I respect the shit out of it. Not just because I dig bootlegs — though I do — but because in this age of infinite everything, why not release everything? Don’t you know the fucking planet’s dying? Why the hell would you keep secrets? Who has time for that? Fuck it. Put it all out there. Absolutely. Whether you dig into The Corpse Vanishes or any other of the slew, you might just find that whatever you listen to afterward seems unnecessarily polished. And maybe it is.

Druid Stone on Facebook

Druid Stone on Bandcamp

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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: Bram the Bard of Wizard Tattoo

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

I guess I’d say I’m a music maker. I take songs that are banging around in my head, organize them a bit, record them, and then share them. I’ve found it to be an addictive but cathartic experience.

I got into playing music at an early age. My mother put me in piano lessons when I was eight, and when I was older, I played percussion in my high school marching band. I got my first guitar when I was 16 and played drums in a garage band with some friends covering songs by Nirvana and Metallica. When I was in my mid-20s and 30s, I played guitar, bass, drums, and/or keyboards in a few different classic rock cover bands around Southern Indiana. We mainly played songs by ZZ Top, The Allman Brothers, The Doors, etc.

Listening to and playing music has always been a big part of my life. Recording and releasing music was just the next logical step.

Describe your first musical memory.

Embarrassingly enough, my first musical memory is of listening to Kenny Rogers when I was around six or seven. I’m pretty sure I got into him because of watching the Gambler movies, but I had several of his tapes on cassette and would listen to them on long road trips with my family. It was the first music that I remember listening to outside of whatever my parents would put on, and I still think “The Gambler” is a cool song. I don’t care what anyone says!

Describe your best musical memory to date.

I have a lot of fond memories of playing in classic rock cover bands in dive bars around Southern Indiana, but I’d have to say my best musical memory is going to see an Indianapolis punk band called Sloppy Seconds when I was in junior high. I had some older friends that got me into heavier music and they took me with them. It was my first real show without an adult and it’s still one of the greatest experiences of my life. No other concert has topped it since.

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

The recent event with our Supreme Court overturning abortion rights is very concerning, and it’s really tested my belief in this country and what it stands for. I never thought that we’d take such a giant step backward like this and it’s scary to see it happening.

Where do you feel artistic progression leads?

I honestly don’t know. I started recording music because I wanted to get the songs that were stuck in my head out. Hopefully, my music will keep progressing and improving, and I’ll get better at expressing myself with more complex arrangements and better performances. I don’t know what the end looks like, but I bet it will be pretty cool.

How do you define success?

If just a few people listen to and like my music, I’ll consider it a success. That’s all I need.

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

Indiana Jones and The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. I absolutely loved the first three movies growing up and that last one soured how I view them now. They’re making another sequel too which I think is criminal. Hollywood is creatively bankrupt.

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

I’ve got three new songs that I’ve written for Wizard Tattoo that I’m excited about recording and releasing as part of a full-length album next year. My wife and I are also working on an ’80s synth-rock project that’s different than anything I’ve ever done before.

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

To connect people with one another. I think art is the purest form of communication that we have. Words are a clunky way to express ourselves, but you can listen to a song or look at a painting, and really connect with how someone felt when they created it and what they truly were trying to say.

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

Going to shows with friends, spending time with my family, and just chilling in a hammock with a beer in my backyard

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Wizard Tattoo, Wizard Tattoo (2022)