Posted in Whathaveyou on December 5th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
The debut album from Portland, Oregon’s Tigers on Opium will be issued through Heavy Psych Sounds, as the Italian imprint announced last week. The well-mustachioed four-piece have two EPs — the latest of them is 2022’s 503.420.6669.vol_two, which featured the single “The Perfect Cocktail” (premiered here) that was also released separately — and various other short releases under their collective belt, and to go with the unveiling of preorders, artwork and album details for their first long-player, they’ve got the first single streaming as well, which is how you do. The album is called Psychodrama, and fair enough.
Last week was the Quarterly Review, so I didn’t get to post the signing announcement as I otherwise would have. I’ll take the opportunity to congratulate the band on the deal. Especially if you have any kind of mind toward European touring, pretty much ever, Heavy Psych Sounds is where you want to be right now. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Nuclear Blast would take them abroad too, but then the band would have to trigger the drums on all their studio output. That ain’t helping. The first single from the record, called “Sky Below My Feet,” has a right on hook and a lead riff that reminds of ’80s metal without actually trying to be it, midsection gets a little Green Lungy, minus the folklore, plus some QOTSA bounce. At the bottom of the post.
Alright, to the information! From the PR wire:
Heavy Psych Sounds to announce TIGERS ON OPIUM signing for their debut full length !!!
Psychodrama is Tigers on Opium’s debut full length.
A structured form of therapy in which a person dramatizes a personal problem or conflict, usually in front of a group of other therapy participants. The other participants usually take part in the drama, though each performance focuses on a single person’s concerns. The goal of psychodrama therapy is to work together in a group to achieve a better understanding of past traumas and the influence they can create, the members must feel willing to work together.
“When I came across the idea of psychodrama therapy, I started to think about how we have so many joint experiences as a society that currently happen or have happened, and how they shape both our singular and collective consciousness. Music has always been a form of therapy for not just me, but a massive amount of the people in the world. I started to conceptualize this as an idea for the album, thinking that we all have so many connections to major/micro events in time, and generally similar interpretations of them. Like the idea of a psychodrama therapy session, I started to envision how the songs could play out about these different moments… Almost like vignettes or snapshots of life, with the song playing the role of the individual, and the listeners playing the role of the group.” — Juan Carlos Caceres (vocals/guitar/keys)
The album PSYCHODRAMA explores various psychological and social experiences that have shaped our cultural evolution. Occultism, Propaganda, Atomic Warfare, Media Consumption, Religion, Social unrest, Nostalgia, Mental Struggle, Pop Culture, Revolution, and Change – are all themes explored throughout the album.
Out via Heavy Psych Sounds on March 1st 2024.
Produced by Juan Carlos Caceres Engineered by Jeanot Lewis-Rolland and Adam Bradley Pike. Tracked in Portland, OR at JLR Audio Productions, Dream Awake Studio, and Toadhouse Recording Drum Tech Ben Engen Mixed by Adam Bradley Pike at Toadhouse Recording in Portland, OR Mastered by Jack Endino in Seattle, WA All songs by Tigers on Opium Lyrics by Juan Carlos Caceres All songs published by Triangles Around Us (BMI) Artwork by Branca Studio
TIGERS ON OPIUM is Juan Carlos Caceres – Lead Vocals, Guitars, Synths, Piano Nate Wright – Drums, Vocals Charles Hodge – Bass, Vocals Jeanot Lewis-Rolland – Guitars, Vocals
Posted in Questionnaire on December 4th, 2023 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: Anthony Gaglia of LáGoon, Oopsy Dazey & The Crooked Whispers
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
I just have fun creating music on my own and with my friends. I’ve been playing guitar since I was really young, but for the first chunk of my guitar playing years I was playing classical guitar and did so all the way through college. I still love playing classical guitar, but I got pretty burnt out on how strict it all felt. My only goal now is to make music that I enjoy and more importantly fun to play live.
Describe your first musical memory.
Cruising around in my dad’s work van listening to music. He had a huge tape collection and he’d pick me up from school and let me pick out a tape and we’d drive around and listen to whatever I picked out as loud as the van speakers would allow. More days than not I’d pick ZZ Top’s Tres Hombres. He gave that tape collection to me a few years back.
-Describe your best musical memory to date.
Man, hard to pick just one. I’ve met so many rad people and travelled to some pretty cool places doing this music thing. In college I composed a classical piece based on Haitian voodoo rhythms and traveled to Doha, Qatar to present it at the World Conference of Undergraduate Research which was pretty unreal, so we’ll roll with that one.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
When I was going to music school and getting all types of music theory shoved down my throat I had this formulaic way of going about writing songs. I thought I needed to jam everything I was learning into the music I was making. I was so focused on every song needing to have key and time signature changes, weird chord voicings, or all of the above. It’s a complex you see a lot of music school kids fall into. If you’re familiar with any of the music I’ve released over the past 8 years it’s pretty obvious I’ve moved away from that haha. I still think there’s a time and place for some of that stuff and still like nerding out on music theory but my songwriting now is definitely more of a “less is more” approach.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
For me it leads to expanding into other genres. I think that’s true in music, other forms of art, and life in general. If you aren’t trying other things you’re just limiting what you can accomplish.
How do you define success?
Releasing projects that I’m proud of and being the best friend, son, and husband I can be.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
We found an overdosed couple in the bathroom after one of the shows I played in college. It was the first show of mine my now wife ever came to. The guy survived but unfortunately his girlfriend wasn’t able to be resuscitated. It was a pretty heavy scene.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
A classical album. I’ve got a few solo, duo, and quartet guitar pieces I’ve composed. Someday I’d like to get those worked out with some other players and record a live performance of them.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
Bringing people together and giving them a sense of community they might not have without it.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
Posted in Whathaveyou on November 17th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
‘The Endless Road Home’ closes Lord Dying‘s new album, Clandestine Transcendence. It is the second track to be featured from the upcoming MNRK Heavy (formerly E1/eOne Heavy) release, which the Portland, Oregon-based four-piece will issue on Jan. 19, 2024. Preorders up, link below, all that stuff. The band was already on tour in Europe for this record — alongside Conan, no less — so if you’re there and you saw them, I’d love to hear how they were. The what-if-goth-Voivod shenanigans of “The Endless Road Home,” the shift toward melodic vocals, and the underlying threat of being pummeled at just about any interval make the four-minute piece a complex slab of progressive metal, furthering the righteous, way-dug-in weirdo chase that Lord Dying undertook with 2019’s Mysterium Tremendum (review here), which brazenly redefined their course.
A controlled chaos of intricacy suits them as “The Endless Road Home” demonstrates. You’ll find its video along with that for all-caps first single “I AM NOTHING, I AM EVERYTHING” under the blue text below, which of course comes from the PR wire:
LORD DYING: Portland Progressive Sludge Metal Conjurors Unveil “The Endless Road Home” Video; Clandestine Transcendence Full-Length To See Release This January Via MNRK Heavy
Portland progressive sludge metal conjurors LORD DYING are pleased to unveil their haunting new animated video for “The Endless Road Home,” the closing track of their long-awaited new studio album, Clandestine Transcendence.
From the earliest rumblings of their debut demo and self-titled EP (both issued in 2011), through the piledriving force of 2013’s Summon The Faithless and devastating despair of 2015’s Poisoned Altars, LORD DYING has composed masterfully melancholic music for the misanthropic, with grit and grime.
In 2019, the band delivered Mysterium Tremendum. The heady and adventurous existential reflection on death of that record served as the impetus to a trilogy, and that story continues in 2023 with an increasingly ambitious follow-up, Clandestine Transcendence.
On Clandestine Transcendence, LORD DYING cofounders Erik Olson (guitar, vocals) and Chris Evans (guitar) are joined by Alyssa Mocere (former bassist for Eight Bells) and Kevin Swartz (current drummer of Tithe). Produced by Converge guitarist Kurt Ballou (High On Fire, Code Orange, Kvelertak) at his God City Studios, the twelve-track opus steps even further into the great unknown, filled with riffs and vibes.
Mysterium Tremendum – Latin for “awe-inspiring mystery” or “terrible mystery” depending on one’s view of existence – began a narrative centered on a central character the band calls The Dreamer, a conceptual theme that drove expansive, sometimes monstrous, and even plaintive and vulnerable music. Olson describes The Dreamer as an immortal being who wants to die. On Clandestine Transcendence, he gets that wish.
Of “The Endless Road Home,” Olson notes, “This song is dedicated to all the road dogs, travelers, bands, crew, people that make tours happen, people that go to shows and general rabble rousers. We salute you.”
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Clandestine Transcendence is a wholly immersive listen. Tension, drama, and atmosphere abound all over songs like “The Universe Is Weeping” and “Unto Becoming.” The massive scope and melodic vocals found on album three expand further on Clandestine Transcendence. Sharpened songwriting, emphasizing hooks, helps push both extremes of the band beyond prior limits. Simply put, the softer side is even dreamier; the heavy side is twice as brutal.
Clandestine Transcendence Track Listing: 1. The Universe Is Weeping 2. I AM NOTHING, I AM EVERYTHING 3. Unto Becoming 4. Final Push Into The Sun 5. Dancing On The Emptiness 6. Facing The Incomprehensible 7. A Brief Return To Physical Form 8. A Bond Broken By Death 9. Break In The Clouds (In The Darkness Of Our Minds) 10. Soul Metamorphosis 11. Swimming In The Absence 12. The Endless Road Home
LORD DYING: Erik Olson – vocals/guitar Chris Evans – guitar Alyssa Maucere – bass/vocals Kevin Swartz – drums
Posted in Bootleg Theater on November 10th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
There was no real arguing with Holy Grove at the time, either. Based in Portland, Oregon, the bluesy heavy psychedelic soul rockers made their self-titled debut (review here) in 2016 through Heavy Psych Sounds. The response, if it wasn’t immediate, was close enough to it to be indistinguishable, and justified. Production by Billy Anderson and Adam Pike and Mike Moore (the latter two overdubs), still-stunning cover art by Adam Burke, a sound as thick as fuzzy as you like and the powerhouse vocals of Andrea Vidal cutting through with command and presence. I don’t want to call it a no-brainer for fear of being misinterpreted as saying the record is dumb, but certainly for those listening to it, the “well duh this sure rules” factor was pretty high.
Holy Grove circa Holy Grove was Vidal, bassist Gregg Emley, guitarist Trent Jacobs and drummer Craig Bradford. The latter didn’t stick around, and the band would go through a succession of drummers for the better part of the next half-decade, even booking a run in early 2020 that would’ve featured Andy Patterson (The Otolith, ex-SubRosa, ex-Iota, etc.) on drums — like everything else that Spring, it was canceled, but the prospect existed — but the groove fostered by the ‘original’ or at least the ‘initial’ lineup of the band wants for nothing. Beginning the seven-track procession with the nodder “Death of Magic” before its apparent revival in the slow-lumbering “Nix” — Emley introducing on bass the central riff that hearkens to C.O.C.‘s “Albatross,” as well as to Quest for Fire and, while we’re on “duh,” Black Sabbath — the album immediately knows its place, what it is, what it wants to do, and why. There is no questioning of purpose, no tentative rolling of metaphoric dice. Sometimes a band just sounds like they know their shit rules. To wit, “Holy Grove.”
From Sleep to All Them Witches, Witch Mountain and YOB and well beyond, Holy Grove seemed content to let the riffs sort out their own place in a heavy underground sphere. Their doom, always heavy, was restrained in its severity by languid tempos and an abiding sense of largesse, and the stops and volume swells and scorching leads of “Holy Grove” demonstrate clearly their focus on craft over specific genre adherence. Their songs, on Holy Grove and its 2018 follow-up, Holy Grove II (review here), can be expansive, crunching or both, and “Nix” early serves as a precursor to the closing duo “Hanged Man” and “Safe Return” later, both of which also top seven minutes in length, while even the shorter, riff-centered “Huntress” — centerpiece of the record, mind you — has an atmospheric impression cast through its tones, the reach of its mix, and the treatment on Vidal‘s vocals, intermittently layered and dynamic in keeping with the instruments surrounding, aligning with the rest of the band for the speedier, ultra-Iommic swing push at the end of “Huntress.”
There wasn’t much more Holy Grove could’ve done to bring people on board, short perhaps of mailing everybody on the planet who might be interested a free copy of the record. The energy of the second half of “Huntress” is maintained into “Caravan,” which offsets the thrust of its verse by opening to a stop in its chorus, Vidal controlling a tempest with backing vocals in a moment reminiscent but not necessarily derivative of Witch Mountain, whose former singer Uta Plotkin seemed capable of similar conjurations but whose style is more doom overall. Jacobs takes a particular burner of a solo in “Caravan” — if it’s been a while since you heard the album, listen for it — and just before giving over to the last two tracks, Holy Grove find the highest gear in terms of shove that they’ll hit on their debut. When “Caravan” stops, it’s a heavy silence.
And at 8:49, “Hanged Man” announces its arrival with far-back, fading-in vocals and a pointed spaciousness reinforced as the guitar holds out its first distorted riff like the version of “Black Sabbath” that might’ve showed up on Dehumanizer had they re-recorded it (and why didn’t they?), and unfurls with patience toward its stop-chug and twist-around blues verse, at once traditional and their own. Guitar howls in the second cycle through, and the roll of the chorus gives over to a consuming tempo push, multi-tiered, that summarizes the trajectory and dynamic the band have employed throughout, whether that’s shifts in volume or meter, mood or vibe, let alone volume. “Hanged Man” slows again to slide into its final hook, and ends big to let the momentum carry over to “Safe Return” (7:20), which rounds out with more bluesy stomp, breadth in its backing-vocal-inclusive chorus, and a raucous finish well earned after the tempo kick.
All this was, was a killer debut record. 2016 had a few of them — King Buffalo, Elephant Tree, Vokonis, Spaceslug, Year of the Cobra, etc. — but Holy Grove stood out because, yes, Vidal is just that kind of a performer, and also because Holy Grove is executed with such clarity of vision. It’s not that the record’s perfect — it’s not supposed to be — but that for what it’s doing, it’s doing it in just the right way for itself. It’s its own thing. It exists within a sphere, a genre, and there are plenty of the pieces that make it that will feel familiar to those who know the style more generally, but beyond those superficialities, the persona of Holy Grove was cast in the lack of pretense of this first record and the absolute heart put into the songs.
It’s been five years, but I’m still hopeful Vidal, Emley, Jacobs and a drummer can get a third full-length together. There was still a lot of potential in II amid the band’s strident progression, but in addition to being interested in how they might have grown, I’d be happy just to have a few more songs from them. They never officially broke up or anything, but there hasn’t been a ton of activity in the last three or so years, which I get. Nonetheless, the revisit here only reminds of why I’d been hopeful in the first place.
As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.
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Today’s Friday. Kid went to school Monday and Wednesday this week. Tuesday was election day — The Patient Mrs. is now on the school board, which will be good to balance against the two bought-off, book-banning fascists who also got elected — and yesterday and today are teacher’s convention. I don’t know if other states/countries have something similar — probably — but it’s basically two professional development days for teachers, and there is an actual convention they can go to. For kids it’s just days off.
So, days off. Which, of course, are days on.
Yesterday morning dragged so long I’m pretty sure I’m still there. I did finally get the kid out of the house to go to the grocery store, but it was an ‘early Zelda’ day at about 3PM — normally I might try to keep the tv off until 5 or thereabouts — and my back was so sore I could barely move like the entire day, and every word out of The Pecan’s mouth between 5:30AM when she got up and after 9PM when she finally went up to bed because The Patient Mrs. and I were going to bed and I finally convinced her to get the fuck out of our room so we could do that was whined. Whining. All day. Every fucking thing. Whine whine whine. Even about non-complaint stuff. All fucking day. All. Fucking. Day.
I tried to get the babysitter today and she didn’t text me back. I wouldn’t text me back either.
It’s also my sister’s birthday, which is nice. Dinner here, probably. Need to vacuum after working on the kitchen this week, but the new ovens (yes, two) are in and the new cooktop works (though fewer of our pans are induction-ready than we thought), so The Patient Mrs.’ DIY bent continues. She cut out the front of the cabinet to hold the double-oven. It was pretty fucking impressive. Measure twice, and all that.
This weekend is Heavy Psych Sounds in New York. Between family celebration and my back I don’t think I’m going to make it, but if you go there or to Baltimore, have a great time. I’ll be back here on Monday with more shenanigans in pursuit of an eventual sponsorship from Doan’s.
Have fun, be safe, drink water. Thanks for reading.
Posted in Reviews on October 31st, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Most bands get one debut. Here’s Hippie Death Cult‘s second. It’s been an interesting few years in the life of the Portland, Oregonian heavy rockers, who with their third full-length, Helichrysum, mark a new path forward. In the two years between 2019’s 111 (review here) and 2021’s Circle of Days (review here), the then-four-piece built remarkable momentum for a time that at least in part included pandemic shutdowns, and as they resumed domestic and international touring — fests, headlining dates, support slots, the whole thing — later in 2021 they bid farewell to vocalist/organist Ben Jackson. A change up front is always significant, and the departure of the keyboard that had up to then been a likewise formidable presence and distinguishing feature in their sound would probably derail some acts, but Hippie Death Cult not only kept going as a trio, they also faced the departure of drummer Ryan Moore this past January.
Helichrysum, then, represents a kind of going to ground. With Jackson and Moore gone, the band held fast with the core duo of bassist and now-lead vocalist and lyricist Laura Phillips and guitarist/riffmaker Eddie Brnabic (who also produced and mixed here, with assistance from Ben Barnett and Jeremy Romagna engineering) bringing in the classic-styled Harry Silvers (also Robots of the Ancient World) on swing-drums. Tours continued, songwriting and recording obviously happened or we wouldn’t be talking about a new record, and they even managed to get it released in time to keep a two-year interval between albums — whether or not that was a goal, I don’t know, but it’s impressive, considering — while reimagining their sound.
And there’s the crucial point. With Phillips up front and the organ gone, and with Silvers on drums in place of Moore — I’d imagine drummers could opine on their respective styles based solely on the builds of their respective kits on stage; rack cymbals out, soon-to-be-busted crash and big kick in — Hippie Death Cult aren’t trying to deny things are different this time, and that’s about more than just no-keys or the gender of their lead vocalist. They’re diving headfirst into it. In the brooding chug of on-theme opener “Arise,” the rawness of the punch in the bass and the corresponding currents of prog and metal that were in Brnabic‘s guitar to start with are highlighted from the outset, and while the dynamic and the chemistry of Hippie Death Cult has shifted — Phillips letting out the first of the album’s several righteous screams as they transition to the guitar solo at about four minutes into the six-minute piece; a sample about a minute later brings more with the lava-flow finish; not a complaint — both are accounted for in the new incarnation of their sound. It’s a little different, and that can be scary, I know, but the lesson of Helichrysum is that sometimes it’s worth starting over.
From “Arise” on through the smooth-boogie, maybe-written-later-in-the-process “Shadows,” which follows, and into the mellower psych-doom of “Better Days,” Phillips owns the role taken on in the material, and she, Silvers and Brnabic seem to revel in the subsequent centerpiece “Red Giant” and the subsequent hippies-go-metal “Toxic Annihilator,” the two shortest inclusions on the album and, at least as applies to the latter, the most aggressive output they’ve had to-date, in case you were concerned that just because Hippie Death Cult have never thrashed before that might mean they couldn’t do it. They do, and make it their own. Bolstered by the tension of Brnabic‘s speedy chug in “Red Giant” — hard-boogieing through its layered solo with a willful recklessness that, frankly, rules, they set up “Toxic Annihilator” not only with more vocal screams (as opposed to the tubes in their amps, likely also screaming) but a swagger they’ve never really shown before in a brief, stage-minded series of stops as well as the riff parade preceding — the energy at the start of “Toxic Annihilator” is electric, palpable.
The last time Hippie Death Cult made a three-minute song it was the acoustic interlude “Mrtyu” on 111. In its production, “Toxic Annihilator” isn’t metal, but in its actual construction and purposes, it most definitely is, and it’s easy to imagine that what feels so much like it was written for the stage is duly flattening in a live setting. Atop a torrent of guitar, Phillips shouts her way through the early verse with Silvers‘ crash for complement, then croons through the build up to an almost Slayer-ish growl (thinking Tom Araya at the end of the intro to “Angel of Death,” minus the high note preceding) at the transition point to a headspinning, hypnotic digging in marked by another scream at the start of the next cycle through before the making-sure-the-barn-is-all-the-way-burnt solo finishes.
For anyone missing keys, the penultimate “Nefilibata” is introduced by organ before it nestles quickly into its midtempo groove, and all seems business as usual — amazing how effectively ‘usual’ is redefined here while staying true to a high standard of what that means — until a layered arrangement of melodic vocals marks it out from its surroundings, emblematic perhaps of a reconstructed band trying something new that might or might not further manifest in their sound as they move forward, but it makes “Nefilibata” a late highlight, and with the reorientation of that initial organ line, there’s no interruption to the flow that has carried them really from “Arise” without any more hitches than they’ve seemingly wanted there to be as they turn to “Tomorrow’s Sky” to close, the by-now familiar thud of the drums, a spacious guitar, and yes, a little more keys, coming about as close as Hippie Death Cult might to drift with the guitar floating above, mirroring the lower-frequencies of the drums and bass holding the rhythm while feeling bright and engaging in the doing.
Fluid front-to-back, “Tomorrow’s Sky” wants nothing for angularity as its early melancholy gives over to a verse with a lightly progressive feel and the band oozes toward the somewhat-understated winding finish with a grace that’s both familiar from what they’ve done in the past while also distinct from it in form. New, in other words. It’s not just that Hippie Death Cult went through lineup changes before they made their third LP. They took advantage of the opportunity those changes represented to bring new perspectives to what they do, and so while Helichrysum is more outwardly raw in its sound than they’ve been before, the songs that comprise it benefit from the vitality that becomes so much of the album’s focus. They will, one hopes, continue to grow organically as they settle further into this modus over the next few years, but the efforts they’ve made and the resilience they’ve shown already have their payoff here.
Portland heavy rockers Robots of the Ancient World will release their second album for Small Stone Records, 3737, on Nov. 17. The five-piece issued their first record for the label, Mystic Goddess (review here), in 2021, and have gone from tracking with Jack Endino to producing themselves with Billy Anderson as an engineer, so pretty clearly they’re not looking to waste time in the recording process. Their actual-debut was 2019’s Cosmic Riders, and especially considering the years between, they’ve managed productivity where others have stagnated or disappeared altogether, which is something to be commended.
As one would hope, one of the aspects carried over from Mystic Goddess to the newer six-tracker is a lack of pretense. Dudes aren’t trying to be anything other than the fuzz-toned weirdos they are, and with the returning lineup of vocalist Caleb Weidenbach, guitarists Nico Schmutz and Justin Laubscher, bassist Trevor Berecek and drummer Harry Silvers (now also in Hippie Death Cult), that particular brand of quirk is all the more identifiable as the band swings, sways and swaggers toward and through the organ-laced culmination of 10-minute apex finale “Silver Cloud,” which ends the procession with all due ceremony without losing sight of the fact that even in those last moments, they’re headed somewhere.
Lest you doubt their stonerly bona fides, “Hindu Kush” leads off with a rising buzz of amp noise that becomes the riff — feedback still there until the crash-in — and proceeds to unveil the roll. Mellow, not hitting too hard and certainly not quiet, the two guitars, bass and drums leave room for Weidenbach‘s vocals, though honestly he sounds like he wouldn’t necessarily have trouble cutting through anyhow. Circa-’75 Ozzy and first-two-LPs Danzig might be touchstones there, but one way or the other, Weidenbach is the source of a lot of the attitude of 3737, and with “Hindu Kush,” the record gets a classic-feeling (those backing vocals in the chorus) fuzz rocker that leans into doom and psych in the spirit of the modern underground.
Opening catchy was clearly a priority between “Hindu Kush,” which is the shortest of the non-interludes at 4:45, and “Creature,” which follows, and after its own quiet guitar intro sweeps into full-brunt tonality chugs into its verse with subtle pace and genuinely seems to shove its chorus forward through the speakers. They throw some jabs in the bridge in the second half, and rally around that one more time after the last hook, and then they’re quickly onto the “Children of the Grave”-esque start of “Holy Ghost.” Feels like fair enough use of that chug. I’m pretty sure everyone on the planet who didn’t wishes they wrote that song.
“Holy Ghost” takes off with due thrust and a sharper edge to its riff. The guitars split in the verse, one channel chugging, the other strumming, but they align in the chorus to emphasize the message being sent about songwriting — namely that Robots of the Ancient World are on it — and find their way back with renewed vigor, Silvers in back pushing the entire thing forward. While maybe not as outwardly catchy as “Hindu Kush” or “Creature,” “Holy Ghost” pulls the listener deeper into 3737 and maintains the standard of craft, the mix of influences at work showing metallic flashes in the solo, some maybe-organ in there maybe-prefacing the closer, scorch and toms building to a head, pushing, pushing, finally crashing. Side A over.
The personality shifts somewhat as they move into “Moustache” — a love song? for a moustache? I haven’t seen lyrics, so I’m going with ‘yes’ with lines like “I miss you so bad,” and so on — and top the seven-minute mark for the first time, some of that additional minute-ish as compared to “Creature” or “Holy Ghost” no doubt due to the trippy outro that bookends with the subdued beginning. The methodology would seem to be ‘hypnotize, punch, hypnotize again’ for “Moustache,” but it’s also got a hook as the guitars wait then don’t to solo, and when it shifts back to the intro part to finish, they just kind of drop everything, which one can appreciate. “Screw it, we’re doing this now.” Right on.
Turn up the volume near the end and you can hear a TV in the penultimate acoustic interlude “Apollo,” which for sure gives a recorded-at-home vibe, whether or not it was. But while the 2:26 purposeful-meander is intended to lead into the direct-to-riff start of “Silver Cloud,” which is a crescendo even before the already-noted big finish. What might be an extra, semi-backward cymbal is worked into the mix after about two minutes in, both adding psychedelic flair and grounding the march for a few measures as a precursor to the classic-style dual soloing that Robots of the Ancient World have been apparently holding in reserve.
That looseness of swing is a misdirect — “Silver Cloud” would come apart were it not so sharply performed — but the 10:49 cut begins its build by going to ground at around four minutes in. Some Doors-y ranting in a sparsely-guitared midsection jam — somewhat ironically it’s the bass that holds it together — carries them through the next stage, and then it’s all-in, all-go, where’s-the-tambourine-oh-good-I-think-it’s-in-there-somewhere until the last strains of keys fade out. In 37 minutes, 3737 has come farther than it might at-first seem, and the level of control and balance in Robots of the Ancient World‘s approach makes difficult moments in songcraft sound easy.
Being their third album overall, one expects a certain level of realization to take place. It’s reasonable to think that nearly five years after their first record, the band collectively has an idea of their sound and what they want their songs to do. If that’s not the case, and the actual-math of 3737 is these dudes rolled out of bed and these jams just magically happened, well, I’m glad someone got it on a hard drive because that’s a pretty special moment right there. But more likely is this material has been worked on and thought through, and in that, the organic nature of its presentation is doubly striking.
“Holy Ghost” premieres on the player below, and more info follows from the PR wire.
Please enjoy:
Portland psychedelic stoner doom outfit ROBOTS OF THE ANCIENT WORLD will release their 3737 full-length via Small Stone Recordings on November 17th.
ROBOTS OF THE ANCIENT WORLD released their Mystic Goddess full-length in 2021. The high-octane recording offered up a hallucinatory sound excursion through a wide range of styles that kept listeners engaged while never losing focus or sacrificing flow.
Two years later, the band is back and more potent than ever. With the assistance of renowned engineer, Billy Anderson, ROBOTS OF THE ANCIENT WORLD delivers a relentless rock ‘n’ roll album spanning thirty-seven minutes and thirty-seven seconds. But the title is more than just the duration of the recording, and the band took notice of the number’s significance. There exists a theory in numerology that guardian angels attempt to communicate through divine numbers – specifically the repetition in numbers, and this one specifically is to remind us that, “magic and manifestation are knocking at your door,” and that, “you are about to attract your inner most desires.” Emerging from the pandemic and coping with the loss of loved ones, heartache, and mental anguish, the band decided to harness this energy and pour it into 3737.
As a result, we are left with an album rich with addictively heavy riffing complemented by pummeling drums, groovy bass lines, and Caleb Weidenbach’s raw and commanding vocals. ROBOTS OF THE ANCIENT WORLD intended to deliver something meaningful, not only to the band but to the world. 3737 is the answer.
3737 was written and recorded by the band, mastered by Justin Weis, and comes wrapped in the cover art of Zaiusart.
The record will be released on CD and digital formats via Small Stone Recordings and on limited edition vinyl by Kozmik Artifactz. For preorders, visit THIS LOCATION: https://smallstone.bandcamp.com/album/3737
3737 Track Listing: 1. Hindu Kush 2. Creature 3. Holy Ghost 4. Moustache 5. Apollo 6. Silver Cloud
ROBOTS OF THE ANCIENT WORLD: Caleb Weidenbach – vocals Nico Schmutz – guitar Justin Laubscher – guitar Trevor Berecek – bass Harry Silvers – drums
Posted in Reviews on October 3rd, 2023 by JJ Koczan
I broke my wife’s phone yesterday. What a mess. I was cleaning the counter or doing some shit and our spare butter dish — as opposed to the regular one, which was already out — was sitting near the edge of the top of the microwave, from where I bumped it so that the ceramic corner apparently went right through the screen hard enough that in addition to shattering it there’s a big black spot and yes a new phone has been ordered. In the meantime, she can’t type the letter ‘e’ and, well, I have to hand it to Le Creuset on the sturdy construction of their butter dishes. Technology succumbing to the brute force of a harder blunt object and gravity.
Certainly do wish that hadn’t happened. What does it have to do with riffs, or music at all, or really anything? Who cares. I’m about to review 10 records today. I can talk about whatever the hell I want.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
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Samsara Blues Experiment, Rock Hard in Concert
10 years after releasing 2013’s Live at Rockpalast (review here), and nearly three after they put out their 2021 swansong studio LP, End of Forever (review here), German heavy psych rockers Samsara Blues Experiment offer the 80-minute live 2LP Rock Hard in Concert, and while it’s not their first live album, it gives a broader overview of the band from front to (apparent) back during their time together, as songs opening salvo of “Center of the Sun,” “Singata Mystic Queen” and “For the Lost Souls” from 2010’s debut, Long-Distance Trip (review here), melds in the set with “One With the Universe” and “Vipassana” from 2017’s One With the Universe (review here), End of Forever‘s own title-track and “Massive Passive,” and “Hangin’ on a Wire” from 2013’s Waiting for the Flood (review here) to become a fan-piece that nonetheless engages in sound and presentation. If you were there, it’s likely must-own. For the rest of us, who maybe did or didn’t see the band during their time — glad to say I did — it’s a reminder of how immersive they could be, especially in longer-form material, and how much influence they had on the last decade-plus of jam-based heavy psych in Europe. Recorded in 2018 at a special gig for Germany’s Rock Hard magazine, Rock Hard in Concert follows behind 2022’s Demos & Rarities (review here) in the band’s posthumous catalog, and it may or may not be Samsara Blues Experiment‘s final non-reissue release. Whether it is or not, it summarizes their run gorgeously and puts a light on the chemistry of the trio that led them through so many winding aural paths.
Sounding modern and full and in opening cut “Marrow” almost like the fuzz is about to swallow the rest of the song, Restless Spirit step forward with their third long-player, Afterimage, and establish a new level of craft for themselves. In 2021, the Long Island heavy/doom rock trio offered Blood of the Old Gods (review here), and their guitar-led energetic surges continue here in Afterimage riffers like the chug-nod “Shadow Command” and “Of Spirit and Form,” which seems to account for the underlying metallic edge of the band’s execution with its sharper turns. Their first album for Magnetic Eye Records, its eight tracks fit smoothly into the label’s roster, which at its baseline might be said to foster modern heavy styles with a particular ear for songwriting and melody, and Restless Spirit dig into “All Furies” like High on Fire galloping into a wall of Slayer records, only to follow with the 1:45 instrumental reset “Brutalized,” which is somehow weightier. They touch on the ethereal with the guitar in “The Fatalist,” but the vocals are more post-hardcore and have a grounding effect, and after starting with outright crush, “Hell’s Grasp” offers respite in progressive flourish and midtempo meandering before resuming the double-plus-huge roll and pointed riff and noodly offsets, the huge hook coming back in a way that makes me miss doing a radio show. “Hell’s Grasp” is the longest piece on the collection at 6:25, but “From the Dust Returned” closes, mindful of the atmospherics that have been at work all along and no less huge, but clearly saving a last push for, well, last. I’ll be interested in how it holds up over the long term, but Magnetic Eye has become one of the US’ most essential labels in heavy music and releases like this are exactly why.
When did Graham Clise from WitchLecherous Gaze, etc. — dude used to be in Uphill Battle; I remember that band — move to Australia? Doesn’t matter. It happened and Stepmother is the raw, garage-ish fuzz rock outfit the now-Melbourne-residing Clise has established, with Rob Muinos on bass and vocals and Sam Rains on drums. With Clise on guitar/vocals peppering hard-strummed riffs with bouts of shred and various dirtier coatings, the 12-tracker goes north of four minutes one time for “Do You Believe,” already by then having found its proto-Misfits bent in the catchy “Scream for Death.” But whether they’re buzz-overdosing “Waiting for the Axe” or digging into the comedown in “Signed DC” ahead of the surf-informed rager of a finale “Gusano,” Planet Brutalicon is a debut that presents fresh ideas taking on known stylistic elements. And it’s not a showcase for Clise‘s instrumental prowess on a technical level or anything — he’s not trying to put on a clinic — but from the sound of his guitar to the noises he gets from it in “The Game” (that middle part, ultra-fuzz) and at the end of “Stalingrad,” it is very much a guitar-centered offering. No complaints there whatsoever.
Pilot Voyager, The Structure is Still Under Construction
WARNING: Users who take even a small dose of Pilot Voyager‘s The Structure is Still Under Construction may find themselves experiencing euphoria, or adrift, as though on some serene ocean under the warm green sky of impossibly refracted light. The ethereal drones and melodic textures of the 46-minute single-song LP may cause side effects like: momentary flashes of inner peace, the quieting of your brain that you’ve been seeking your whole life without knowing it, calm. Also nausea, but that’s probably just something you ate. Talk to your doctor about whether this extended work from the Hungarian collective Psychedelic Source Records (szia!) is right for you, and if it is, make sure to consume responsibly. Headphones required (not included or covered by insurance). Do not be afraid as “The Structure is Still Under Construction” leaves the water behind to float upward in its midsection, finally resolving in intertwining drones, vague sampled speech echoing far off somewhere — ugh, the real world — and birdsong someplace in the mix. Go with it. This is why you got the prescription in the first place. Decades of aural research and artistic movement and progression have led you and the Budapesti outfit to this moment. Do not operate heavy machinery. Ever. In fact, find an empty field, take off your pants and run around for a while until you get out of breath. Then drink cool water and giggle. This could be you. Your life.
Philadelphia has become the East Coast US’ hotbed for heavy psychedelia, which must be interesting for Northern Liberties, who started out more than two decades ago. The trio’s self-released, 10-song/41-minute Self-Dissolving Abandoned Universe — maybe their eighth album, if my count is right — with venerated producer Steve Albini, so one might count ‘instant-Gen-X-cred’ and ‘recognizably-muddy-toms’ among their goals. I wasn’t completely sold on the offering until “Infusorian Hymnal” started to dig a little further into the genuinely weird after opener “The Plot Thickens” and the subsequent “Drowned Out” laid forth the crunch of the tones and gave hints of the structures beneath the noise. “Crucible” follows up the raw shove of “Star Spangled Corpse” by expanding the palette toward space rock and an unhinged psych-noise shove that the somehow-still-Hawkwindian volatility of “The Awaited” moves away from while the finale “Song of the Sole Survivor” calls back to the folkish vocal melody in “Ghosts of Ghosts,” if in echoing and particularly addled fashion. Momentum serves the three-piece well throughout, though they seem to have no trouble interrupting themselves (can relate), and turning to follow a disparate impulse. Distractable heavy? Yeah, except bands like that usually don’t last two decades. Let’s say maybe their own kind of oddball, semi-spaced band who aren’t afraid to screw around in the studio, find what they like, and keep it. And whatever else you want to say about Albini-tracked drums, “Hold on to the Darkness” has a heavier tone to its snare than most guitars do to whole LPs. Whatever works, and it does.
“Good Night, Ophelia” is the first single from the forthcoming debut full-length from semi-goth Portland, Oregon, heavy rock four-piece Nyxora. There are worse opening shots to fire than a Hamlet reference, I suppose, and if one regards Ophelia’s character as an innocent driven to suicide by gender-based oppression, then her lack of agency is nothing if not continually relevant. Nonetheless, for Nyxora — Vox on, well, vox, guitarist E.Wrath, bassist Luke and drummer Weatherman — she pairs with dark-boogie riff recorded for edge with Witch Mountain‘s Rob Wrong at his Wrong Way Studio. There are some similarities between Nyxora and Wrong‘s own outfit — I double-checked it wasn’t Uta Plotkin singing some of the higher-reaching lines of “Good Night, Ophelia,” which is a definite compliment — but I get the sense that fuller atmosphere of Nyxora‘s first LP isn’t necessarily encapsulated in this one three-and-a-half-minute song. That is, I’m thinking at some point on the album, Nyxora will get more morose than they are here. Or maybe not. Either way, “Good Night, Ophelia” is an enticing teaser from a group who seem ready to dig their niche when the album is released, I’ll assume in 2024 though one never knows.
I hate to do it, but I’m calling bullshit right now on Sydney, Australia’s Old Goat Smoke. Sorry gents. To be sure, your Bongzilla-crusty, ultra-stoned, Church of Misery-esque-in-its-madcap-vocal-wails, goat weed metal is only a pleasure to behold. But that’s the problem. How’re you gonna write a song called “Old Goat Smoke” and not post the lyrics? I shudder to think of the weed puns I’m missing. Fortunately, it’s not too late for the newcomer band to correct the mistake before the entire project is derailed. In that eponymous one of three total tracks included, Old Goat Smoke cast themselves in the mold of the despondent and disaffected. “Return to Dirt” shifts fluidly in and out of screams and harsher fare while radioactive-dirt tonality infects the guitar and bass that have already challenged the drums to cut through their morass. So that there’s no risk of the point not being made, they cap this initial public offering with “The Great Hate,” and eight-and-a-half-minute treatise on feedback and raw scathe that’s likewise a show of future nastiness to manifest. Quit your job, do all the drugs you can find, engage the permanent fuck-off. Old Goat Smoke may not have ‘bong’ in their moniker, but that’s about all they’re missing. And those lyrics, I guess, though by the time the 20 minutes of Demo have expired, they’ve made their caustic point regardless.
German transport-themed heavy rock and rollers Van Groover — as in, one who grooves in or with vans — made a charming debut with 2021’s Honk if Parts Fall Off (review here), and the follow-up five-song EP, Back From the Shop, makes no attempt to fix what isn’t broken. That would seem to put it at odds with the mechanic speaking in the intro “Hill Willy’s Chop Shop,” who runs through a litany of issues fixed, goes on long enough to hypnotize and then swaps in body parts and so on. From there, the motor works, and Van Groover hit the gas through 21 minutes of smells-like-octane riffing and storytelling. In “A-38″ — the reference being to the size of a sheet of paper in Europe; equivalent but not the same as the US’ 8.5″ x 11” — they either get arrested, which would seem to be the ending of “The Bandit” just before,” or are at the DMV, I can’t quite tell, but it doesn’t matter one you meet “The Grizz.” The closer has an urgency to its push that doesn’t quite sound like I’d imagine being torn apart by a bear to feel, but the Lebowski-paraphrased penultimate line, “Some days you get eaten by the bear, some days the bear eats you,” underscores Van Groover‘s for-the-converted approach, speaking to the subculture from within. Possibly while driving. Does look like a nice van, though. The kind you might write a song or two about.
Facts-wise, there’s not much more I can tell you about Hotel Lucifer than you might glean from looking at the New York four-piece’s Bandcamp page. Their self-released and self-titled debut runs 43 minutes and eight tracks, and its somewhat bleak, not-obligated-to-heavy-tonalism course takes several violent thematic turns, including (I think.) in opener “Room 222,” where Katie‘s vocals seem to talk about raping god. This, “Murderer,” “Torquemada,” “The Ultimate Price,” “Picking Your Eyes Out” and 12-minute horror noisefest closer “Beheaded” — only the classic metaller “Training the Beast” and the three-minute acoustic-backed psychedelic voice showcase “Echidna” seem to restrain the brutaller impulses, and I’m not sure about that either. With Jimmy on guitar, Muriel playing bass and Ed on drums, Hotel Lucifer are defined in no small part by the whispers, rasps and croons that mark their verses and choruses, but that becomes an effective means to convey character and mood along with the instrumental ambience behind, and so Hotel Lucifer find this strange, almost willfully off-putting cultish individualism, and it’s not hooks keeping your attention so much as the desire to figure it out, to learn more about just what the hell is going on on this record. I’ll wish you good luck with that as I continue my efforts along similar lines.
Its five songs broken into two sections along lines of “Obscure Fire” pairing with “Of Silence” and “Descending” leading to “Into the Depths” with “Of Eternal Doom” answering the question that didn’t even really need to be asked about which depths the Russian stoner sludge rollers were talking about. The Sleep-worshiping three-piece of guitarist/vocalist SAA, bassist KKV and drummer PAN — whose credits are worth reading in the band’s own words — lumber with purpose as they make that final statement, each side of Obscure Fire working shortest to longest beginning with the howling guitar and drum thud of the title-track at nine minutes as opposed to the 10 of “Of Silence.” At two minutes, “Descending” is barely more than feedback and tortured gurgles, so yes, very much a fit with the concrete-toned plod of the subsequent “Into the Depths” as the band skirt the line between ultra-stoner metal and cavernous atmospheric sludge without necessarily committing to one or the other. That position favors them, but after a certain point of being bludgeoned with huge riffs and slow-nodding, deeply-weighted churn, your skull is going to be goo either way. The route Megalith Levitation take to get you there is where the weed is, aurally speaking.
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 30th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Portland-based psych-turned-heavygaze outfit Blackwater Holylight will launch a month of European touring at Desertfest Belgium in the company of Amsterdam’s Iron Jinn. The band presented a comparatively grim thesis with 2021’s Silence/Motion (review here), taking the atmospheric penchant of their first two albums and, in part, using it as a means to explore the drear of its time, not that either the time or the drear are necessarily over.
I finally got to see the band after wanting to since their debut about a year ago at Psycho Las Vegas (review here), and they took to the main stage there with according mastery of their sound and approach. The latest album put them on their first US headlining tour, and they’re headliners internationally now too, their outward growth in sound greeted with a corresponding uptick in listenership. Well met, and all that.
If you didn’t hear it, Iron Jinn‘s 2023 self-titled debut (review here) is a dark-prog smorgasbord, which makes this a good pairing. Plus, Iron Jinn will have just been out in September supporting Alain Johannes and doubling as his backing band, so they should be plenty warmed up.
Blackwater Holylight posted the dates as follows:
BLACKWATER HOLYLIGHT- (#128165#)EUROPE(#128165#) WE COMING FOR YA(#128165#)
Cannot wait to return to so many countries and friends we’ve missed dearly. Please join us and @iron_jinn for a month a mayhem LETS GO!
@doomstarbookings and BWHL present CHAPEL OF ROSES TOUR: 20.10.23 Antwerpen (BE) – Trix / Desertfest 23.10.23 Paris (FR) – Supersonic 24.10.23 Nijmegen (NL) – Merleyn 25.10.23 Eindhoven (NL) – Stroomhuis 26.10.23 Bochum (DE) – Die Trompete 27.10.23 Dresden (DE) – Chemiefabrik / Heavy Psych Sounds Festival 28.10.23 Berlin (DE) – Urban Spree / Heavy Psych Sounds Festival 29.10.23 Malmö (SE) – Plan B 30.10.23 Gothenburg (SE) – Skeppet GBG 31.10.23 Stockholm (SE) – Bar Brooklyn 02.11.23 Helsinki (FI) – Kuudes Linja / Sonic Rites Fall Fest 03.11.23 Tallinn (EE) – Hungr 04.11.23 Riga (LV) – Vagonu Hall 05.11.23 Vilnius (LT) – Narauti 06.11.23 Warsaw (PL) – Chmury 07.11.23 Krakow (PL) – Zascianek 08.11.23 Prague (CZ) – Modra Vopice 09.11.23 Vienna (AT) – Arena 10.11.23 Budapest (HU) – Instant 11.11.23 Ljubljana (SI) – Channel Zero 13.11.23 Munich (DE) – Feierwerk 14.11.23 Zürich (CH) – Klub Komplex 15.11.23 Frankfurt (DE) – Nachtleben 16.11.23 Lille (FR) – La Bulle Café
* Ljubljana date has been changed to Channel Zero.
