Posted in Whathaveyou on April 12th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
The joke here is obvious, right? That ‘summoning the slayer’ is what every dude shouting ‘SLAYERRRRRRRR’ at every show has been doing since probably 1984. Looking at the Hieronymus Bosch-meets-Guillermo Tel Doro cover art though, clearly Detroit’s Temple of Void had their own ideas about where they were coming from on their fourth album and label debut for Relapse Records. The five-piece have steadily worked on either side of the line — often on both sides — of death and doom metals, and after their 2020 third album, The World That Was (review here), the newly unveiled eight-minute single “Deathtouch” finds them gloriously grueling and headfirst into extremity as ever, but check out too a bit of melody near the ending. Maybe hints of some of the expansion of their sound the PR wire is hinting at below.
Either way, I’ll take it. “Deathtouch” is duly lethal. You’ll find it at the bottom of this post. Consider the slayer summoned, though there are of course more singles to come before the June 3 release.
Info:
TEMPLE OF VOID ANNOUNCE RELAPSE DEBUT SUMMONING THE SLAYER OUT JUNE 3
SHARE “DEATHTOUCH” MUSIC VIDEO
WATCH/SHARE:
https://orcd.co/templeofvoid-sts
Cave dwellers TEMPLE OF VOID finally return from the inky abyss on their highly anticipated new album, Summoning the Slayer, out June 3 on Relapse Records. Watch the “Deathtouch” music video, directed by The C.O.I.N.
Summoning The Slayer is out June 3 on LP/CD/CS/Digital. Physical pre-order via Relapse.com are available HERE: https://store.relapse.com/temple-of-void-summoning-the-slayer
Digital Downloads/Streaming HERE: https://orcd.co/templeofvoid-sts
The critically acclaimed, Michigan-based quintet—featuring Alex Awn (guitars), Don Durr (guitars), Mike Erdody (vocals), Jason Pearce (drums), and Brent Satterly (bass)—hunkered down during the last two years, expanding upon their brand of fusty, artfully brutish death-doom with equal parts process and imagination. The outcome is an album that feels massive yet sepulchral, exploratory yet distinguishable—as if crafted deep below and inspired by all the things (mentally and physically) that come with their subterranean endeavor. Summoning the Slayer creepily evolves TEMPLE OF VOID.
Produced, mixed, and mastered by Arthur Rizk (Power Trip, Sumerlands, Candy, and more,) Summoning the Slayer pairs long-time influences and a bevy of non-metal vectors into hulking columns of heavy and desolation. Focus tracks “Deathtouch,” “Hex, Curse, & Conjuration” and “The Transcending Horror” showcases TEMPLE OF VOID’s death-doom at its heights and their massive, crushing lows. But the group’s fourth album is more than that. The album’s capper, “Dissolution,” is one example of the Detroiters stretching out, the song’s ‘70s rock/singer-songwriter motifs hitting The Moody Blues and Nick Drake hard. Lyrically, Summoning the Slayer eschews commonplace horror tropes with a deeper, broader psychological discussion of the self. TEMPLE OF VOID’s ultimate death-doom metal journey is now complete.
Photo Credit: Brian Sheehan
SUMMONING THE SLAYER TRACKLIST: Behind The Eye Deathtouch Engulfed A Sequence of Rot Hex, Curse, & Conjuration The Transcending Horror Dissolution
TEMPLE OF VOID Is: Michael Erdody – Vocals Don Durr – Guitar Jason Pearce – Drums Alex Awn – Guitar Brent Satterly –Bass
You have your coffee yet? I’ve got mine. Today’s Friday, which means day five of this six-day Spring 2022 Quarterly Review, and it’s been a hell of a week. Yesterday was particularly insane, and today offers not much letup in that regard. If you’d have it another way, I’m sorry, but there’s too much cool shit out there to write about stuff that all sounds the same, so I don’t. I’ve had a good time over this stretch and I hope you have too if you’ve been keeping up. We’ll have one more on Monday and that’s it until late June or early July, so please enjoy.
And thanks as always for reading.
Quarterly Review #41-50:
Pike vs. the Automaton, Pike vs. The Automaton
Matt Pike acoustic? It happened, and YOU were there! Truth is, the strumming foundation on which “Land” is built is just one example of Pike vs. The Automaton‘s singular get-weirdness, and followers of his career arc through Sleep and High on Fire from playing basements to winning a Grammy will recognize pieces of cuts like “Abusive” and “Trapped in a Midcave,” the all-out rager “Alien Slut Mom” (which of course was the lead single), the bombastic expanse of “Apollyon,” the even-more-all-out-rager “Acid Test Zone” and the dug-in get-weirdness of “Latin American Geological Formation” as one of heavy music’s most influential auteurs welcomes (?) listeners into a world of swirling chaos, monsters, conspiracies and, of course, riffs. The album saves its greatest accomplishment for last in the 11-minute “Leaving the Wars of Woe,” but if you’re old enough to remember when Rob Zombie did those off-the-wall cartoons for White Zombie videos and the Beavis and Butt-Head movie, listening to Pike vs. the Automaton is kind of like living in that for a while. So yeah, awesome.
Maybe the heaviest sans-bass low end since Floor? That’s not a minor claim, but at very least Wellington, New Zealand’s End Boss put themselves in the running with They Seek My Head, their debut album. The guitars of Greg Broadmore and Christian Pearce are the crushing foundation on which the band is built, and with Beastwars‘ own Nathan Hickey on drums, there’s a reliable base of groove to coincide as all that weight becomes the backdrop for E.J. Thorpe‘s vocals to soar over top on cuts like “Heart of the Sickle” and “Punished.” It’s a wide breadth throughout the eight songs and 33 minutes, allowing “Becomes the Gold” to show some emotive urgency while “Nail and Tooth” seems only to be sharpening knives at the outset of side B, while “The Crawl” just about has to be named after its riff and fair enough. “Lorded Over” hints at an atmospheric focus that may or may not further manifest in the future, but the closing title-track is what it’s all about, and it’s big nod, big melody, big hooks. You can’t lose. Onto the ‘best debuts of 2022’ it goes.
Fred Laird (Earthling Society, Taras Bulba) and Mike Vest (Bong, Blown Out, etc.) released their self-titled debut as Artifacts & Uranium in 2021 as a collection of three massive dronescapes. Their follow-up, Pancosmology, telegraphs being more compositionally-focused even before you put it on, running eight songs instead of three, and indeed, that’s how it turns out. There are still massive waves of exploratory drones, guitar, electric piano, drums programmed and real — Nick Raybould plays on half the tracks, so a potential third in the duo — synth, bass, whatever a Gakken Generator is, it all comes together with an understated splendor and a sense of reaching into the unknown. Witness the guitar and synth lines of “Silent Plains,” and are those vocals buried so deep in that mix? I can’t even tell. It doesn’t matter. The point is that for 37 minutes, Laird and Vest (and Raybould) take you on a psych-as-spirituality trip into, around and through the universe, and by the time they get to “The Inmost Light” noisewashing at the finish, the feeling is like being baptised in a cold river of acid. If this is the birth of the gods, I’m in.
After the slower rolling opener “Broken Dick,” Night City‘s debut cassette EP, Kuang Xi, works at a pretty intense clip, taking the Godflesh vibe of that lead track, keeping the abiding tonal thickness, and imbuing it with an also-’90s-era Ministry-ish sense of chaos and push. The four-song outing works from its longest track to shortest and effectively melds heavy industrial with brutal chug and extreme metal, and one should expect no less from Collyn McCoy, whose plumbing of the dark recesses of the mind in Circle of Sighs is a bit more purely experimentalist. That said, if “Encryptor/Decryptor” showed up as a Circle of Sighs track, I wouldn’t have argued, but the use of samples here throughout and the explicitly sociopolitical lyrics make for coherent themes separate from McCoy‘s other project. “Steppin’ Razor” uses its guitar solo like a skronky bagpipe while calling out Proud Boy bullshit, and in fewer than three minutes, “Molly Million$” finds another gear of thrust before devolving into so much caustic noise. The version I got also featured the dancier “Tomorrow’s World,” but I’m not sure if that’s on the tape. Either way, a brutalist beginning.
Rise Above Records signing a band that might even loosely be called doom is immediately noteworthy because it means the band in question has impressed label owner Lee Dorrian, formerly of Cathedral, who — let’s be honest — has some of the best taste in music the world over. Thus Friends of Hell unleash 40 minutes of dirt-coated earliest-NWOBHM-meets-Celtic–Frost chugging groove, with former Electric Wizard bassist Tasos Danazoglou (currently Mirror) on drums and Sami “Albert Witchfinder” Hynninen (Spiritus Mortis, Reverend Bizarre, Opium Warlords) on vocals, biting through catchy classic-sounding cuts like “Into My Coffin” and side B’s “Gateless Gate” and “Orion’s Beast.” Unremittingly dark, the nine-song collection ends with “Wallachia,” a somewhat grander take that still keeps its rawness of tone and general purpose with a more spacious vibe. It is not a coincidence Friends of Hell take their name from a Witchfinder General record; their sound seems like prime fodder for patch-on-denim worship.
The second full-length keeping on a literally-underground theme from 2021’s From the Basement (review here), the 10-song/35-minute What Lies Beneath finds founding Delco Detention guitarist Tyler Pomerantz once again getting by with a little help from his friends, up to and including members of Hippie Death Cult — Eddie Brnabic shreds over instrumental closer “FUMOFO” — The Age of Truth, Kingsnake and others. Angelique Zuppo makes a highlight of early cut “Rock Paper Scissors,” and Dave Wessell of Ickarus Gin brings a performance that well suits the strut-fuzz of “War is Mine,” while instrumentals “What Lies Beneath” and “Velcro Shoes” find Tyler (on bass and guitar) and drummer Adam Pomerantz digging into grooves just fine on their own. The shifts between singers give a compilation-style feel continued on from the first record, but a unifying current of songwriting brings it all together fluidly, and as “A Slow Burn” and “Study Hall Blues” readily demonstrate, Delco Detention know how to take a riff out for a walk. Right on (again).
Put Lansing, Michigan’s Room 101 up there with Primitive Man, Indian and any other extreme-sludge touchstone you want and their debut long-player, Sightless, will hold its own in terms of sheer, concrete-tone crushing force. In answering the potential of 2019’s The Burden EP (review here), the album offsets its sheer bludgeoning with stretches of quiet-tense atmospherics, “Boarded Window” offering a momentary respite before the onslaught begins anew. This balance is further fleshed out on longer tracks like “Dead End,” with a more extended break and the title-cut with its ending guitar lead, but neither the sub-five-minute “Windowlicker” nor “Boarded Window” earlier want for mood, and even the finale “The Innocent, the Ignorant and the Insecure” brings a feeling of cohesion to its violence. This shit is lethal, to be sure, but it’s also immersive. Watch out you don’t drown in it.
Heralded by the prior single “With the Devil Hand in Hand” (posted here), which is positioned as the closer of the 41-minute five-tracker, Hydra‘s second full-length, Beyond Life and Death, finds the Polish four-piece pushing deeper into doomed traditionalism. Where their 2020 debut, From Light to the Abyss (review here), had a garage-ist edge, and if you work hard, you can still hear some of that just before the organ kicks in near the end of “On the Edge of Time” (if that’s a “Children of the Sea” reference we can be friends), but after the more gallop-prone opener “Prophetic Dreams” and the penultimate “Path of the Dark”‘s whoa-oh backing vocals, the crux of what they’re doing is more NWOBHM-influenced, and blending with the cult horror lyrical themes of centerpiece “The Unholy Ceremony” or the aforementioned closer, it gives Hydra a more confident sound and a more poised approach to doom than they had just two years ago. The adjusted balance of elements in their sound suits them, and they seem quickly to be carving out a place for themselves in Poland’s crowded scene.
The two 12-minute tracks “Opiate the Sun” and “Foret” bookend Swiss trio E-L-R‘s second LP for Prophecy Productions, Vexier, and the intention would seem to be plain in hooking and immersing the listener in the experience and flow of the album. Like their wildly impressive 2019 debut, Mænad (review here), this collection has plenty of post-metallic elements, and there’s specifically a post-black metal bent to “Three Winds” in its earliest going — by the midsection it’s come apart into broad, open spaces, but the rush comes back — and the centerpiece and shortest track, “Seeds,” which seems to shine even brighter in its melody than the opener, as the vocals are once more presented on a level plane with the rest of the atmospheric elements, far back in the mix but not at all lacking resonance for being vague. “Seeds” is a fitting summary, but “Fleurs of Decay” leans into the expectation of something harsher and “Foret” boasts a more complex linear build, stretches of drone and a broader vocal arrangement before bringing the record to its gentle finish. I liked the first record a lot. I like this one more. E-L-R are doing something with sound that no one else quite has the same kind of handle on, however familiar the elements making it up might be. They are a better band than people yet know.
Titled Three or III, depending where you look, the third long-player from Denver instrumental heavy rockers Buffalo Tombs follows relatively hot on the heels of the second, Two (review here), which came out last October. Spearheaded by guitarist/bassist Eric Stuart, who also recorded the instrumentation sans Patrick Haga‘s own self-recorded drums (lockdown? depends on when it was) and mixed and mastered — Joshua Lafferty also adds bass to “Ancestors” and “Monument,” which are just two of the six contemplations here as Buffalo Tombs explores an inward-looking vision of heavy sounds and styles, not afraid to shove or chug a bit on “Swarm” or “Gnostics/Haint,” but more consistently mellow in mood and dug into its own procession. “Familiars” hints at aspects of heavy Americana, but the root expression on III comes across as more personal and that feeling of intimacy suits well the mood of the songs.
Posted in Questionnaire on March 31st, 2022 by JJ Koczan
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: Ben Lombard of Bog Wizard
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
I play guitar and do most of the vocals for the band Bog Wizard, and usually have at least a hand in the writing process, whether that’s interpreting things Harlen (drummer) is throwing at me or putting together my own riffs.
I’d always sort of had an interest in music, both of my parents played instruments when I was young, but past learning the C-chord on an old acoustic, I didn’t really pick up an instrument until middle school when I started playing snare drum in the school band. That progressed to general percussion, but I’d only ever learned to read music halfway, and to this day can pick out the rhythm but not the note names from a piece of sheet music. Sometime in late high school I got a guitar for my birthday, but ended up quickly trading it for a bass that I began noodling around on.
As far as how the band got started, I met Harlen and some others in college that were in a sort-of band, sort-of looking for a bassist, and I ended up going over to try out, and eventually started to hang with them regularly. It wasn’t too long before someone told me that I played bass like a guitar and I should play guitar, and from there Harlen and I both sort of learned our instruments together I suppose.
From there it took about ten years and half a dozen band names before we actually formed Bog Wizard and stuck with the moniker.
Describe your first musical memory.
I think it would have to be either my mom singing or playing either the piano or the flute. I would always sit next to her on the piano bench and go through all the sheet music books she had, handing her ones that I thought looked interesting and trying to get her to play them. Unfortunately, interesting looking also usually meant difficult, and she would often sigh and laugh a little about what I picked before trying to play it anyway.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
I might just have to throw a couple answers out there for this one, it’s hard to pick favorites! I’ll start with the best concert I’ve been to, had to be the Devin Townsend Project, Gojira, and Opeth together at The Vic in Chicago. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen any of the bands, I’d seen Opeth many times at that point and had even seen Devin open for Gojira before. Devin was great, Opeth was great, but Gojira stole the show, and was hands down the best live set I’ve ever witnessed. Something about their whole presence, the energy and the performance, was just on another level. A close runner-up for the winner here would be the time I saw Dethklok and Mastodon co-headline at the Fillmore in Detroit.
Out of gigs we’ve performed ourselves, our most recent one at Mulligan’s Pub in Grand Rapids with Starman Deluxe (who filled-in last minute) and Iron Mountain stands out. The crowd was there to rock, it was a great lineup, and they gave us our first real mosh-pit, definitely an awesome night.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
I suppose being a teenager and realizing that I might be bisexual or gay instead of straight was a big one. I’m still wrestling with the finer points of that actually, 15 or more years later. Not the question of if I’m straight or not, I’m not, more how far into the gayness spectrum I am, haha.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
Hopefully being more satisfied with the work one produces! Being able to express more clearly the thoughts and feelings you want to express, a heightened ability to express yourself in your chosen medium, regardless of what that may be.
How do you define success?
In steps, and there are many, and they depend on your ambitions. A small success for us was getting our music out there in the first place, having a physical thing that we created that we could put into the hands of others. Another might be playing our first gig, and then our first gig outside our hometown. Starting to collaborate with other artists, coming to the realization that there are people out there, maybe even a fair amount of people, that want to hear our music, that are waiting for us to put out more. This all sounds like success to me, with hopefully more to come!
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
The ugliness in some people that the pandemic brought out, their absolute disregard for the wellbeing of those around them.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
There are so many ways this answer could go. I suppose I’ve never really had a plan about where to point my creative interests, I’m pretty happy with where I’m at in Bog Wizard right now, so, further Bog Wizardy things? We do have some things in the works, we might have something going on with some unconventional cover songs in the future, trying to turn non-metal into metal, basic alchemy stuff.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
Expression, whether of self or of an idea, and the ability to put that expression or idea out into the world for others to perceive, perhaps providing a connection between people who would have otherwise never met or interacted.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
I’m looking forward to the weather being consistently warm enough for me to get outside on a regular basis, I spent far too much time cooped up inside over the winter and that needs to change. More specifically, I’ve been getting into disc golf more and more over the past couple years, and I’m going to try to get out and practice a lot more as I’d like to eventually get good enough to play in my local league.
Shenanigans ensue. April 1 is the arrival date for Bog Wizard and Froglord‘s A Frog in the Bog split/collaborative release, and it may just turn out that it’s all an elaborate prank and none of it, none of us, you or me or the bands or the songs or anything at all, actually exist. But, assuming the world is in some cruel way what it seems to be, the five-track outing, which finds Bog Wizard summoning Froglord onto “The Frog Lord” — there’s a “ribbit” there, audible, you can hear it — and the UK-based Froglord bringing Bog Wizard aboard for the closing companion-piece “The Bog Wizard,” there’s clearly a plan at work here. In some of Bog Wizard‘s over-the-top doom-metal melodrama and majickal-or-however-you-want-to-spell-it thematic, the outing brings to mind a rawer, suitably mossier take on Merlin‘s chicanery, but from the moment the listener first faces the “Reptilian Death Squad” through the grueling rumble of “The Bog,” “The Wizard” (not at all a cover) and “The Bog Wizard” — arranged shortest to longest as they are on either side of five and a half minutes long — there’s clearly a plan at work.
The plan is “fuck it.”
Listening to this chirruping reptiles begging for sex at the outset of “The Frog Lord,” which picks up from the ultra-subdued lull-away-your-conscious-mind finish of “Reptilian Death Squad” — god damn these words are fun to write — there’s charm to spare. Bog Wizard and Froglord are a solid match tonally, with the latter more produced with more clarity than the Michigan trio of guitarist/vocalist Ben Lombard, bassist Colby Lowman and drummer/synthesist/vocalist Harlen Linke, but there’s atmosphere to both and the fact that they’re so clearly on the same page in terms of storyline and the overarching riff-what-thou-wilt mindset assures that the 37 minutes of A Frog in the Bog are consistent just the same. And if they weren’t, would it really matter? Do you go into a Bog Wizard and Froglord split — even if you know nothing of either act’s prior work; Froglord‘s entirely new to me if it makes you feel better — expecting clean progressive rock? Hell no you do not. You expect lumbering riffs, abiding murk, and the willful sense that whatever’s going on and however lumbering a given stretch might be, there’s a good time being had. So happens that’s precisely what’s delivered.
You’ll note the videogame-style cover art here; I speak from experience in telling you that neither playing instructions nor controller overlays are included, but they do have the courtesy to tell you that in the fine print. Perhaps next time. I know I’ve got a couple NES controllers laying around, and as merch/sticker ideas go, that’d be a new one as far as I’ve seen. As it stands, A Frog in the Bog is brilliant in its regressive take, refusing to operate on any terms other than those it sets for itself, and engaging its audience with craft and personality alike. It would be dumb to ask more of it than that. Don’t be dumb.
Bog Wizard and Froglord both give a solid idea of where they’re coming from in the clip for “The Frog Lord” below — I’d be interested to know what venue Froglord filmed at — and in the midst of it all, you’ll see somebody’s kid dancing, orb tricks, and so on.
Have fun. Let yourself enjoy a thing.
This, particularly:
Bog Wizard feat. Froglord, “The Frog Lord” video premiere
A Frog in the Bog is a collaborative concept split album. What that means is that this split has been written from the ground up to tell a cohesive story. Both halves of the split feature shared vocal parts between the bands, in the conclusionary tracks.
Bog Wizard and Froglord are both very narratively driven bands, telling tale of their respective characters. The Froglord is a god-like swamp dwelling being with a congregation of worshippers and followers. The Bog Wizard is an angry hermit wizard whos only preferred company is the creatures he summons to do his bidding, and he’s highly protective of his territory.
A Frog in the Bog tells the story of their fateful meeting, as the Froglord encroaches into the Bog Wizard’s well-guarded territory with his congregation, from each of their unique perspectives. It describes the Bog Wizard’s anger as he realizes this being has intruded on his land, the curiosity of the Froglord as to who and what lies in the swamp, their ultimate battle, and face to face meeting. Who will win?
Track Listing for A Frog in the Bog: 1. Bog Wizard – Reptilian Death Squad (8:12) 2. Bog Wizard – The Frog Lord, feat Froglord (12:21) 3. Froglord – The Bog (5:27) 4. Froglord – The Wizard (5:34) 5. Froglord – The Bog Wizard, feat Bog Wizard (5:35)
Bog Wizard is: Ben Lombard (guitar/vox) Harlen Linke (percussion, synth, vox) Colby Lowman (bass)
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 23rd, 2022 by JJ Koczan
You don’t need me to tell you about the charm factor here, right? Two bands, disparate in locale, come together to collaborate and unite in creative purpose on a split where they also appear on each other’s tracks, and not only that, but they’re brought together a narrative spanning both of their work, given it 16-bit cover art (that’s right, I’m thinking Genesis-era, or maybe one of those super-underrated SNES RPGs; I’d play it either way) about a Froglord encountering a Bog Wizard. I don’t know how the Bristol, UK, and Michigan-based acts know each other, and frankly, it’s a secondary consideration given the above. However it came about, this sounds pretty awesome.
As someone who appreciates a good story and has dug Bog Wizard‘s work to-date — Froglord‘s various singles on Bandcamp are right on as well, just new to me — this feels like a no-brainer. Hail the reptilian death squad, which I’m sure someone out there believes is a real thing.
To wit:
Bog Wizard/ Froglord to release collaborative concept split, A Frog in the Bog on April 1st, 2022
A Frog in the Bog is a collaborative concept split album. What that means is that this split has been written from the ground up to tell a cohesive story. Both halves of the split feature shared vocal parts between the bands, in the conclusionary tracks.
Bog Wizard and Froglord are both very narratively driven bands, telling tale of their respective characters. The Froglord is a god-like swamp dwelling being with a congregation of worshippers and followers. The Bog Wizard is an angry hermit wizard whos only preferred company is the creatures he summons to do his bidding, and he’s highly protective of his territory.
A Frog in the Bog tells the story of their fateful meeting, as the Froglord encroaches into the Bog Wizard’s well-guarded territory with his congregation, from each of their unique perspectives. It describes the Bog Wizard’s anger as he realizes this being has intruded on his land, the curiosity of the Froglord as to who and what lies in the swamp, their ultimate battle, and face to face meeting. Who will win?
Track Listing for A Frog in the Bog: 1. Bog Wizard – Reptilian Death Squad (8:12) 2. Bog Wizard – The Frog Lord, feat Froglord (12:21) 3. Froglord – The Bog (5:27) 4. Froglord – The Wizard (5:34) 5. Froglord – The Bog Wizard, feat Bog Wizard (5:35)
Preorders for cassettes, vinyl, and CDs available March 4th!
US Shipping merch via Bog Wizard, UK via Froglord
Bog Wizard is: Ben Lombard (guitar/vox) Harlen Linke (percussion, synth, vox) Colby Lowman (bass)
Posted in Reviews on December 16th, 2021 by JJ Koczan
Day four. Fancy pants. Yesterday was the most effective writing day I’ve had in recent memory, which makes today kind of a harrowing prospect since the only real way to go after that is down. I’ve done the try-to-get-a-jump-on-it stuff, but you never really know how things are going to turn out until your head’s in it and you’re dug into two or three records. We’ll see how it goes. There’s a lot to dig into today though, in a pretty wide range of sounds, so that helps. I’ll admit there are times when it’s like, “What’s another way to say ‘dudes like to riff?'”
As if I’d need another way.
Anyhoozle, hope you find something you dig, as always. If not, still one more day tomorrow. We’ll get there. Thanks for reading.
Quarterly Review #31-40:
Dang!!!, Sociopathfinder
It would take all the space I’ve allotted for this review to recount the full lineup involved in making DANG!!!‘s debut album, Sociopathfinder, but the powerhouse Norwegian seven-piece has former members of The Cosmic Dropouts, Gluecifer, Nashville Pussy, and Motorpsycho, among others, and Kvelertak drummer Håvard Takle Ohr, so maybe it shouldn’t be a surprise they get down to serious business on the record. With influences spanning decades from the ’60s-gone’90s organ-laced electro-rock of “Long Gone Misery” and the Halloween-y “Degenerate,” to the rampaging heavy rock hooks of “Manic Possessive” and “Good Intentions” and the “In the Hall of the Mountain King”-referencing closer “Eight Minutes Till Doomsday,” the 12-song/46-minute outing is a lockdown-defiant explosion of creative songwriting and collaboration, and though it features no fewer than six guitarists throughout (that includes guests), it all flows together thanks to the strength of craft, urgency of rhythm, and Geir Nilsen‘s stellar work on organ. It’s a lot to take on, but pays off any effort put in. Unless you’re a sociopath, I guess. Then you probably don’t feel it at all.
Following up their 2019 debut, People (review here), Swedish classic-heavy trio Stew offer an efficient nine-song/38-minute excursion into ’70s/’10s-inspired boogie rock and heavy blues with Taste, balancing modern production and its own yore-born aesthetic in sharp but not overly-clean fashion. The vocal layering in the back half of opener “Heavy Wings” is a clue to the clarity underlying the band’s organic sound, and while Taste sounds fuller than did People, the bounce of “All That I Need,” the blues hooks in “Keep on Praying” and “Still Got the Time,” subtle proto-metallurgy of “New Moon” (one almost hears barking at it) and the wistful closing duo of “When the Lights Go Out” and “You Don’t Need Me” aren’t so far removed from the preceding outing as to be unrecognizable. This was a band who knew what they wanted to sound like on their first album who’ve set about refining their processes. Taste checks in nicely on that progress and shows it well underway.
Are the crows I hear cawing on “Tyrant of the Unreal” actually in the song or outside my window? Does it matter? I don’t know anymore. Los Angeles-based psychological terror rock unit Nothing is Real reportedly conjured the root tracks for the 87-minute 2CD Transmissions of the Unearthly with guest drummer Jeremy Lauria over the course of two days and the subsequent Halloween release has been broken into two parts: ‘Chaos’ and ‘Order.’ Screaming blackened psychedelia haunts the former, while the latter creeps in dark, raw sludge realization, but one way or the other, the prevailing sensory onslaught is intentionally overwhelming. The slow march of “King of the Wastelands” might actually be enough to serve as proclamation, and where in another context “Sickened Samsara” would be hailed as arthouse black-metal-meets-filthy–psych-jazz, the delivery from Nothing is Real is so sincere and untamed that the horrors being explored do in fact feel real and are duly disconcerting and wickedly affecting. Bleak in a way almost entirely its own.
After immersing the listener with the keyboard-laced opening instrumental “Alektorophobia” (fear of chickens), the third album from UK outfit Jerky Dirt, Orse, unfolds the starts and stops of “Ygor’s Lament” with a sensibility like earlier Queens of the Stone Age gone prog before moving into the melodic highlight “Orse, Part 1” and the acoustic “Eh-Iss.” By the time the centerpiece shuffler “Ozma of Oz” begins, you’re either on board or you’re not, and I am. Despite a relatively spare production, Jerky Dirt convey tonal depth effectively between the fuzz of “Ygor’s Lament” and the more spacious parts of “In Mind” that give way to larger-sounding roll, and some vocal harmonies in “The Beast” add variety in the record’s second half before the aptly-named “Smoogie Boogie” — what else to call it, really? — and progressive melody of “Orse, Part 2” close out. A minimal online presence means info on the band is sparse, it may just be one person, but the work holds up across Orse on multiple listens, complex in craft but accessible in execution.
A scouring effort of weirdo horror heavy, the five-track Lunacy from South Carolina’s Space Coke isn’t short on accuracy, seemingly on any level. The swirl of nine-minute opener “Bride of Satan” is cosmic but laced with organ, underlying rumble, far-back vocals and sundry other elements that are somehow menacing. The subsequent “Alice Lilitu” is thicker-toned for at least stretches of its 13 minutes, and its organ feels goth-born as it moves past the midpoint, but the madness of a solo that ensues from there feels well cast off (or perhaps on, given the band’s moniker) the rails. Shit gets strange, people. “Frozen World” is positively reachable by comparison, though it too has its organ drama, and the ensuing “Lightmare” starts with an extended horror sample before fuzzing and humming out six minutes of obscure incantation and jamming itself into oblivion. Oh, and there’s a cover of Danzig‘s “Twist of Cain” at the end. Because obviously. Doom filtered through goth kitsch-horror VHS tape and somewhere behind you something is lurking and you don’t see it coming until it’s too late.
Broken into two halves each given its own intro in “Intervention” and “Celestial Convoy,” respectively, the debut full-length from Stockholm’s Black Solstice brings back some familiar faces in guitarist Anders Martinsgård and drummer Peter Eklund, both formerly of Ponamero Sundown. Ember, with flourish of percussion in “Signs of Wisdom,” grunge-style harmonies in “Burned by the Sun” and just a hint of winding thrashy threat in “Firespawn,” is deeply rooted in doom metal. They count Sabbath as primary, but the 10-track/42-minute offering is more metal than stonerized riff worship, and with vocalist “Mad Magnus” Lindmark and bassist Lelle B. Falheim completing the lineup, the four-piece boast an aggressive edge and hit harder than one might initially think going in. That is no complaint, mind you. Perhaps they’re not giving themselves enough credit for the depth of their sound, but as their first long-player (following a few demos), Ember finds a niche that hints toward the familiar without going overboard in tropes. I don’t know who, but someone in this band likes Megadeth.
Begun as Paleskin before a probably-for-the-best name change, Tampere, Finland’s Dome Runner offer a hard-industrial bridge between Godflesh at their angriest and earliest Fear Factory‘s mechanized chugging assault. Conflict State Design is the trio’s first full-length, and along with the stated influences, there’s some pull from sludge and noise as well, shades of Fudge Tunnel in “Unfollow” met with harsh screaming or the churning riff underscoring the explosions of synth in “The Undemonizing Process,” like roughed-up Souls at Zero-era Neurosis. With the seven-minute extreme wash of “Impure Utility of Authoritarian Power Structure” at its center, Conflict State Design harkens back to the dreary industrialism of two decades ago — it very pointedly doesn’t sound like Nine Inch Nails — but is given a forward-thinking heft and brutality to match. Amid something of an industrial revival in the heavy underground, Dome Runner‘s debut stands out. More to the point, it’s fucking awesome.
Varese, Italy, instrumentalist heavy post-rockers Moonlit almost can’t help but bring to mind Red Sparowes with their debut album, So Bless Us Now…, though the marching cymbals early in the 17-minute finale “And We Stood Still Until We Became, Invisible” seem to be in conversation with Om‘s meditative practice as well, and the violin on the earlier “Empty Sky/Cold Lights…” (11:25) is a distinguishing element. Still, it is a melding of heft and float across “For We Have Seen” (12:29) at the beginning of the record, more straight-ahead riffing met with a focus on atmospherics beyond conventional sense of aural weight. Each piece has its own persona, some linear, the penultimate “Shine in the Darkest Night” more experimentalist in structure and its use of samples, but the whole 55-minute listening experience is consuming, minimal in its droning finish only after creating a full wash of mindful, resonant psychedelic reach. With titles drawn from Nietzsche quotes from Thus Spake Zarathustra, there are suitably lonely stretches throughout, but even at its maddest, So Bless Us Now… holds to its stylistic purpose.
Not to be confused with New York outfit Spacelord, the now-decade-plus-runnin German instrumental kosmiche-harvesters The Spacelords present Unknown Species across three — and I’m just being honest here — wonderful extended works, arranged from shortest to longest as “F.K.B.D.F.” (8:10), “Unknown Species” (14:53) and the initially-unplugged “Time Tunnel” (20:26) unfurl a thoughtful outbound progression that finds beauty in dark times and jams with intent that’s progressive without pretense — and, when it wants to be, substantially heavy. That’s true more of the end in “Time Tunnel” than the initial synth-laced drift of “F.K.B.D.F.,” but the solo-topped punch of the title-track/centerpiece isn’t to be understated either. In 2020, the trio released their Spaceflowers (review here) LP, as well as a documentary about their recording/writing processes, and Unknown Species pushes even further into defining just how special a band they are, gorgeously constructed and impeccably mixed as it is. Can’t and wouldn’t ask for more.
A debut outing from Michigan-based newcomers Scrying Stone, the 29-minute Scrublands flows like an album so I’m going to consider it one until I hear otherwise. And as a first album, it sets melody and tonal density not so much against each other, but toward like purposes, and even in the instrumental “Ballad of the Hyena,” it finds cohesive ground for the two sides to exist together without contradiction and without sounding overly derivative of its modern influences. “At Our Heels” makes an engaging hello for first-time listeners, and the faster “The Marauder” later on adds a sense of dynamic at just the right moment before the fuzzy overload of “Desert Thirst” dives into deeper weedian idolatry. There’s some boogie underneath the title-track too, and as a companion to the willing-to-soar closer “Dromedary,” that unrushed rush feels purposeful, making Scrublands come across as formative in its reach — one can definitely hear where they might branch out — but righteously complete in its production and songwriting; a strong opening statement of potential for the band to make en route to what might come next.
Posted in Questionnaire on November 23rd, 2021 by JJ Koczan
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: Karen O’Connor of The Lucid Furs
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
If you would have told 20 year old me if I thought I would end up singing on stage in front of a crowd, I wouldn’t have believed you. I puked after trying out for a solo in high school choir. My first involvement with the music scene was doing event booking and then screen printing t-shirts for bands. At that time I only sang to my dog, almost never publicly unless I had too many drinks.
I was asked to join my first band, Karmic Lava, after doing karaoke at a party, “White Rabbit” I think. I tried to back out of it but my friend Rob Cedar razzed me until I finally caved and came to my first band practice. I am very glad that he did. After a few live shows I came out of my shell. The music was good, just not really what I wanted to play and I didn’t have much of a hand in writing. Two years later, I left the project and began seeking out musicians to form my own, that project turned into The Lucid Furs. I still work for musicians as a printer and try to show my support to anyone who puts themselves out there, knowing how much courage and hard work it takes.
Describe your first musical memory.
When I was a kid my grandparents had this huge antique reed organ in their living room. Spent lots of my time pretending I was playing it while watching Lawrence Welk reruns on public TV. I vividly remember the day I realized I was finally tall enough to reach the foot pumps from the bench.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
In 2018, we played a show at World Famous Kenton Club in Portland. Not a particularly packed gig but, the energy in the room was radiant. As I got off stage I was stopped by a woman, who informed me that we had just played her wedding reception. Their previously reserved spot had double booked, so they moved it to our show spur of the moment. They were super cool, we took some pictures with them, hooked them up with some merch and a round. I’m not much for ceremonies but it did feel nice to participate in a momentous life event of a stranger.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
My beliefs are continually being tested and that’s a good thing. I am too new to this world to permanently dig my heels in.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
A sense of inner peace and enhanced self worth.
How do you define success?
I only ever really set loose goals. Having a rigid definition for success always brought out the avarice in me. Right now the goal is simply to continue writing and touring with my three best friends. Continue pushing forward expanding the band’s horizons and making new connections with potential partners.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
The US political atmosphere between the years 2016 and now.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
I’d like to create a communal working space, not just my band but other bands from my area. There has always been a lack of functional private secure spots for musicians here, now more so than ever after the pandemic.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
Comradery and connecting people from other walks of life.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
I made sure our tour route landed us near SC on our Monday off so I can stop in Hilton Head Island and see my Grammy. She’s 95 years old, sharp and a tack, very sweet and a riot at happy hour.
West Michigan sludge purveyors Bog Wizard will release their admirably filthy second full-length, Miasmic Purple Smoke, on Dec. 3 through The Dregs Records. The band lurch into action in following up their earlier-2021 split with Dust Lord (discussed here) and their Summer 2020 debut, From the Mire, as well as 2018’s tellingly-titled Campaign EP, with a collection of six tracks that runs 41 minutes pulling together willful gruel and a guttural sense of the epic.
To wit, “Barbaria” — premiering below — leads the murky dirge procession with eight minutes that find guitarist/vocalist Ben Lombard, drummer/synthesist/vocalist Harlen Linke and bassist Colby Lowman playing howls of its title lyric off of grim, throaty growls, riffs born of the school of Electric Wizard, Windhand, Monolord, etc., readily plodding in raw tones reminiscent of the great history of underrated Midwestern dirt sludge — consider Fistula and the many branches of their dysfunctional family tree, but more doom-informed than punk in the realization.
Though one says that and has to acknowledge Miasmic Purple Smoke‘s tempo outlier in the penultimate “Stuck in the Muck.” So yeah, dudes can play fast when they want to. They can also Sabbath swing like madmen on the title-track or harness cosmic destruction on 12-minute finale “The Void Beckons” — if you’re wondering where the synth is at, there it be — or churn with early-metal ferocity that they just let fall apart like a rehearsal room jam on “The Rogue” (with Linke and Lowman keeping it going; brilliant) or dare some ambience in the interlude “Grimdark” just ahead of the boogie reset at the start of side B, with its “woo!”s and all.
Fuckery abounds amid stylistic shifts, and that shouldn’t be terribly surprising for a band who’ve branded themselves ‘nerd doom’ and tout their love of Dungeons and Dragons, and so on — context for that Campaign EP — but while they’re having a good time in their D&D-meets-ADHD-doom, Bog Wizard‘s sophomore long-player subtly melds sounds and purposes. Whether it’s in the buried-in-mud riffery of “The Rogue” or the somehow-deeper low end that pervades throughout “The Void Beckons,” their passion for what they’re doing is infectious, and the barebones recording becomes an aesthetic unto itself that, again, is part of a long tradition.
You can see in the quote under the track the band talking about the escapist aspects of a song like “Barbaria,” and Bog Wizard are hardly the first to embrace storytelling as a mode of transporting oneself to another world. That they do so in such delightfully gruesome fashion serves to make Miasmic Purple Smoke even more charming in its dungeon-esque atmosphere. Dungeon doom. Cave doom.
Max experience points for those who listen.
Enjoy:
Bog Wizard, “Barbaria” track premiere
Barbaria, the first single off Miasmic Purple Smoke, Bog Wizard’s sophomore full length release, out Dec 3rd 2021.
What the band has to say about the track:
“The album Miasmic Purple Smoke was written and recorded over the course of the last year. The process of this and playing the music itself has been our bit of escapism to keep sane. Much as we have done in the past with our D&D characters and the stories we put ourselves into, and often write our songs about. Using escapism and fantasy in tumultuous times.
“The song Barbaria is embracing this escapism, and allowing our inner barbarian rage to bubble over a bit. It represents the anger and frustration felt over the last year and a half, and provides a way to vent those darker thoughts. And of course, as is our method of operation, channeling the barbarian characters we have played over the years. Gotta keep the nerd in our nerd doom.”
Bog Wizard is a Doom/ Sludge/ Stoner metal band riffing off the satanic panic era with heavy fantasy/ D&D themes. NERD DOOM.
Track Listing for Miasmic Purple Smoke 1. Barbaria [8:30] 2. The Rogue [10:08] 3. Grimdark [1:46] 4. Miasmic Purple Smoke [7:16] 5. Stuck In The Muck [1:19] 6. The Void Beckons [12:26]
Run time: 41:25
Bog Wizard is: Ben Lombard (guitar/vox) Harlen Linke (percussion, synth, vox) Colby Lowman (bass)
