08.09.23 – Wed. – Festival site

Before show

Good to know I started this coverage off yesterday by getting the day wrong in the header. It’s Wednesday now. That was Tuesday. Like a fine-toothed comb, my editorial eye.

Shade is at a premium in Âncora as Ruff Majik soundcheck. “All You Need is Speed,” “Mourning Wood,” and so on. I was hoping to get here to see that, and I trekked from the hotel where I’m staying across the beach with the Atlantic Ocean on what felt to me like the wrong side to get here. It’s beautiful. Sand in the sneakers. Families playing in tide pools. The odd tom check ringing out into the ether. I’m on a bench by a couple of the food stalls. Still need to go backstage if I can and get a bottle of water since the one I had from the airport was too big to fit in my new bag. I already met Mariana from High Priestess. And I took a nap before I came, so I was almost coherent, if it of breath from the walk up and over the dunes to the grounds here. Mariana said she followed the river. Might try giving that a shot on the way back.

It’s calm here, which beats pacing back and forth in the room being anxious for the show to start. Tonight is the pre-show, with four bands and a DJ set from the poster/cover artist Branca Studio. I don’t know how long for it I am, as it goes to almost half-past 3AM and I feel like I got hit by a truck, but fun will be had or the beatings will continue. Or something like that.

Doors aren’t open yet, but sooner or later. Nonetheless, here’s how the evening unfolded in front of the smaller Stage 3 while the two main stages loomed off to the left like giant sleeping tortoises:

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Plastic Woods

Plastic Woods asked before I think the third song, “Who wants some fucking doom?” And then they delivered on that promise with a stonerly roll duly thick and at a slower tempo than the frenetic boogie of their opening (the fest) salvo. Andalusion power trio (with an asterisk), and a powerful sound. I knew next to nothing about them before they went on — to wit, I knew they were playing — but you go into these things with a certain sense of adventure and finding a band you didn’t know about and want to hear more from is the best-case outcome from that. Then they broke out the flute, and grooved Tull-y for a bit before launching into the next largesse-bent riffer plod and then breaking out an acoustic to add shuffle to a classic rocker. A lot there to like — a lot there period; one might call them stylistically restless, in and out of the bounds of heavy — and they’re young, so they played like it even when they threw in a handful of sudden-stop jazz skronk chops, giving SonicBlast a surprising, eclectic and energetic launch from which the entire weekend can only benefit. All over the place but cohesive, plus flamenco vocals, guitar and even a bit of dancing. Will not be the opener forever. I bought 2021’s Dragonfruit on CD, will probably close a week with it at some point. I can’t wait to dig in and to follow them and see the band they become, because at least based on this first impression, they could grow into something very special.

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Ruff Majik

Easily one of my most anticipated bands of the entire weekend, and this year’s Elektrik Ram (review here) — which I put on during the flight over here because, well, it had been a couple days — is a huge part of why. “Rave to the Grave,” “She’s Still a Goth,” “Delirium Tremors” and “Hillbilly Fight Song” mixed in among “All You Need is Speed,” “Jolly Rodger,” “Gregory,” “Lead Pills and Thrills” and “Swine Tooth Grin” from 2020’s The Devil’s Cattle (review here) and the deep cut “Wax Wizard” from their 2016 EP, The Fox, for a more rolling, jammier vibe. Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded if they did the new record in full, but the older grooves were a treat and a reminder to my brain very much consumed by their latest work — Elektrik Ram is my most listened to album of the year so far, no question — that their other stuff is righteous as all hell too. I tried to stay up front after taking pictures but there wasn’t even room to get into the crowd, which is fair because people have been telling me all day about their show at SonicBlast 2018. I ran into Johni Holiday and Jimmy Glass earlier and got to hang out a bit. They drove 27 hours to be here, after a 12-hour flight from South Africa to wherever they played first in Germany. Marauders, they are. They had strobes going hard for most of their set, completing the multi-sensory blowout. I’m willing to admit it probably would’ve taken some effort on their part for me to be left cold, but that they actually killed was a bonus. Some of the best 45 minutes I’ve spent in 2023. I’d say they should come play the States, but outside the odd festival — lookin’ hard at you, Monolith on the Mesa and/or Desertfest NYC 2024 — I’d have to wonder if my home country is ready for that. West Coast, probably. Their time finished with a sing-along to the slower riff at the end of “Delirium Tremors,” which the crowd kept going after they stopped. They earned that.

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Scatterbrainiac

Classic-style heavy hardcore punk, which is reasonable ground for a fest to cover that counts OFF! among its headliners. Not my thing, but they’re local-ish being from Porto — I fell asleep on the ride from the airport, but it wasn’t so far; I was basically falling asleep anyway by noon — and had the crowd that was hanging out igniting a circle mosh near the front of the stage. They tore it up, but I find I don’t have much more than that kind of generic praise, as I lack the background to know which specific root influences they’re working from — though the singer has a Black Flag tattoo on his wrist, and that’s definitely relevant to the discussion — but tonight seems to be all about having a good time, lineup-wise, and Scatterbrainiac delivered hard without taking away from that. I probably won’t buy the record, but they were up there putting the work in to do it right, and I can respect that in just about any situation, regardless of style.

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After show/next morning

Nagasaki Sunrise were closing out with the aforementioned Branca Studio DJ set after, but headed toward 1AM, my ability to withstand WWII-themed d-beat declines sharply, plus I had the walk back to the hotel ahead of me, so I chickened out. Lame, I know, but Deathchant are slated for 1:35AM tomorrow and if I want to see any of it, that means planning ahead. I’ll take being lame now as a trade for being cool later.

It ended up not really mattering, since I could hear the band just fine on my excursion back across the boardwalk and on the beach at night, phone flashlight shining, and from my room I got to listen to the Branca DJ set which started off with Witchcraft and plunged from there into heavy ’70s and stoner glories of various stripes. “Sunrise (Come My Way)” by Buffalo, always a standout, and no less so circa 3AM bleeding through the window as I crawled into bed as one lost in the desert might crawl toward water. Also water. Need more water.

Because apparently I made it a thing — whoops; thanks for nothing, honesty — I’ll note that I did so, so, so much socializing today, and it was alright. Enjoyable even. I met people I’ve known on social media and various characters from the Euro underground — Stoner Johnny, Roberto Lucas of Denpa Fuzz, Tom Van de Sande who was keeping calm during Ruff Majik’s set and who DJ’ed at Freak Valley this year, Claire from Purple Sage PR whom I’ve not seen in an actual decade but to whom I speak at least three times a week, Berto from Spinda Records, Ricardo who runs the fest, the one and only Scott “Dr. Space” Heller, plus Johni and Jimmy from Ruff Majik whose friendship and ease in each other’s presence transcends the band and is indicative of a lifelong partnership, Diogo Miguel who has sent me awesome music, a couple dudes from Monarch (who play Friday), a photog named Daniel who said very nice things about the site in the photo pit, Mariana from High Priestess and fuggin’ Vape Warlök both of whom should have new music manifest soon, on and on. The proverbial butterfly, me.

And that was exhausting as only that kind of thing can be when you’re as out of practice as I am — most of the talking I do in a day is to my kid — everybody has been kind and generous and in addition to the perfect weather, the warmth of the welcome I’ve received has only underscored how fortunate I am to be here.

Thanks for reading. The fest-proper begins in a few hours and today, tomorrow and Saturday are a full-on assault. I’ll spend a lot of time writing on my phone and taking pictures, and the resulting posts will hopefully look like this in their basic structure. Stay tuned for more to come, I suppose. And thanks again.

More pics after the jump.

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08.08.23 – Tue. – 5:58PM – Newark Airport

Got a new camera bag — notably not a Jansport backpack with some bits of extra foam stuffed into the bottom. Hey, gotta have a soft landing.

That cosmic backpack, which served me so very well for however many years, met its end this summer when The Pecan took it to camp and the bug spray that went with her — along with a ton of other stuff, which is why she needed the bigger bag in the first place — spilled out. It was organic hippie stuff, but whatever lemon verbena/ginger-smelling crap was in there, that smell was never coming out. It got washed in the sink, left outside in the rain, on and on. I lost a couple tags that were on the zipper pulls — a My Sleeping Karma one was particularly treasured, along with a bunch of old fest wristbands that I’d probably never do anything with but that I liked seeing anyhow — but so it goes. Let a fire sweep the earth to make way for this harder-shell floral wonder. The Patient Mrs. found it. It’s way more comfortable than was the backpack. Will not smell like roses by the end of this weekend, I’m sure. Doesn’t now, except for fun-pretend.

I am headed out in a few hours to SonicBlast Fest in Portugal. Even accounting for the experience of a new bag — and if you don’t think that shit matters to me, I’ve got 14-plus years of backlogged neuroses for you to check out — and the fact that I’ve never even been through Portugal on my way elsewhere, let alone to this festival, I still feel excessively nervous.

It’s not music. It’s people.

You know what happens? People come up and say hi, and I get so worried I’m gonna screw it up. Bands, people who read the site, label folks, promoters — I hope at some point to run into the people behind this thing, so that’s a social interaction — and I just feel like anything I say, if someone knows me from this site, I’m just going to disappoint. Then I’ll forget someone’s name I’ve met before. I’ll stumble and say something stupid, or I’ll just look funny with my lazy eye and uneven face, my ever-growing fat ass and my general air of ‘here’s a guy who probably doesn’t think much of himself and is right on nearly all accounts in that’ and my lack of eye contact because who the fuck am I in the first place to look anyone in the eye.

I thought maybe that kind of thing would get easier when I hit middle age. I put on weight? I’m 41, who gives a fuck? What, someone’s gonna try to nail me and then see me and be like, nah, forget jigglebelly? Of course not. And what the hell is even the point of being this old if I’m still such a mess in my head? But I’m terrified of meeting people and coming off wrong, of not meeting whatever expectation someone might have. If you’re reading this, please say hi so I can tell you thanks in-person, which is very, very important to me, but please be gentle and go slow. I’m in a new place with new people and there’s a reason I spend so much time in front of my laptop (and writing on my phone, which I am now and will likely be all weekend) and it’s because that thing everyone does where they function in society on any level whatsoever, well, it’s just not really where I’ve ever been at.

Funny story though and quick: a woman a couple people in front of me on the security line. Total wreck. Flailing with three or four bags, taking stuff out to put in the little trays, telling the TSA people what’s in there — her makeup was the black bag, which was brought back after she put it through the machine because there was a Bluetooth speaker in it, on and on. Flowing shawl was the key. I saw her and immediately recognized: this is a person who writes. And you know what? A little while ago, I walked past her sitting at the edge of the wine bar near these gates and there was the laptop with the word processor open.

Sad part of that is I didn’t fit in grad school either. But, as I told my mother the other day when she asked innocently if I was looking forward to this trip — short answer: yes — and I unloaded a rant about how nervous I am for it, once the music starts, everything is okay. All this? The airport, the packing, the days of nervous mental list-making that definitely should have been actual list-making, etc. All of it evaporates tomorrow night when the first band goes on.

This will be fun. I know it will. And the people will be great. People I meet at shows say the nicest shit. Sweethearts, all. Amd I’ll be on the Iberian fucking Peninsula for the first time! With Acid King! And Ruff Majik! It’s like my two favorite records of the year so far, plus Sasquatch and a god damned ton of others. Yeah, I’ll make an ass out of myself in nearly every conversation I have, maybe lose a social media follow or two, but the music will be there and that’s where I want to be.

So me and my new bag are on our way, and if you’re there and you see either of us — me or the bag — please know that while I’m a big weirdo even among a deviant subculture comprised almost exclusively of weirdos, I appreciate your support more than I’ll ever be able to say. Thanks for reading.

Welcome back to the Summer 2023 Quarterly Review. I hope you enjoyed the weekend. Today we dig in on the penultimate — somehow my using the word “penultimate” became a running gag for me in Quarterly Reviews; I don’t know how or why, but I think it’s funny — round of 10 albums and tomorrow we’ll close out as we hit the total of 70. Could easily have kept it going through the week, but so it goes. I’ll have more QR in September or October, I’m not sure yet which. It’s a pretty busy Fall.

Today’s a wild mix and that’s what I was hoping for. Let’s go.

Quarterly Review #51-60:

Weite, Assemblage

Founded by bassist Ingwer Boysen (also High Fighter) as an offshoot of the live incarnation of Delving, of which he’s part, Weite release the instrumental Assemblage as a semi-improv-sounding collection of marked progressive fluidity. With Delving and Elder‘s Nick DiSalvo and Mike Risberg in the lineup along with Ben Lubin (Lawns), the story goes that the four-piece got to the studio with nothing/very little, spent a few days writing and recording with the venerable Richard Behrens helming, and Assemblage‘s four component pieces are what came out of it. The album begins with the nine-minutes-each pair of the zazzy-jazzy mover “Neuland,” while “Entzündet” grows somewhat more open, a lead guitar refrain like built around drum-backed drone and keys, swelling in piano-inclusive volume like Crippled Black Phoenix, darker prog shifting into a wash and more freaked-out psych rock. I’m not sure those are real drums on “Rope,” or if they are I’d love to know how the snare was treated, but the song’s a groover just the same, and the 14-minute “Murmuration” is where the styles unite under an umbrella of warm tonality and low key but somehow cordial atmosphere. If these guys want to get together every couple years into perpetuity and bang out a record like this, that’d be fine.

Weite on Facebook

Stickman Records store

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Mizmor, Prosaic

The fourth album from Portland, Oregon’s Mizmor — the solo-project of multi-instrumentalist, songwriter, producer, vocalist, etc.-ist A.L.N. — arrives riding a tsunami of hype and delivers on the band’s long-stated promise of ‘wholly doomed black metal.’ With consuming distortion at its heart from opener/longest track (immediate points) “Only an Expanse” onward, the record recalls the promise of American black metal as looser in its to-tenet conformity than the bulk of Europe’s adherents — of course these are generalizations and I’m no expert — by contrasting it rhythmically with doom, which instead of fully releasing the tension amassed by the scream-topped tremolo riffing just makes it sound more miserable. Doom! “No Place to Arrive” is admirably thick, like noisy YOB on charred ambience, and “Anything But” draws those two sides together in more concise and driving style, vicious and brutal until it cuts in the last minute to quiet minimalism that makes the slam-in crush of 13-minute closer “Acceptance” all the more punishing, with plenty of time left for trades between all-out thrust and grueling plod. Hard to call which side wins the day — and that’s to Mizmor‘s credit, ultimately — but by the end of “Acceptance,” the raging gnash has collapsed into a caldera of harsh sludge, and it no longer matters. In context, that’s a success.

Mizmor on Facebook

Profound Lore Records store

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The Whims of the Great Magnet, Same New

With a couple quick drum taps and a clearheaded strum that invokes the impossible nostalgia of Bruce Springsteen via ’90s alt rock, Netherlands-based The Whims of the Great Magnet strolls casually into “Same New,” the project’s first outing since 2021’s Share My Sun EP. Working in a post-grunge style seems to suit Sander Haagmans, formerly the bassist of Sungrazer and, for a bit, The Machine, as he single-track/double-tracks through the song’s initial verse and blossoms melodically in the chorus, dwelling in an atmosphere sun-coated enough that Haagmans‘ calls it “your new summer soundtrack.” Not arguing, if a one-track soundtrack is a little short. After a second verse/chorus trade, some acoustic weaves in at the end to underscore the laid back feel, and as it moves into the last minute, “Same New” brings back the hook not to drive it into your head — it’s catchy enough that such things aren’t necessary — but to speak to a traditional structure born out of classic rock. It does this organically, with moderate tempo and a warm, engaging spirit that, indeed, evokes the ideal images of the stated season and will no doubt prove comforting even removed from such long, hot and sunny days.

The Whims of the Great Magnet on Facebook

The Whims of the Great Magnet on Bandcamp

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Sarkh, Helios

German instrumentalists Sarkh follow their 2020 full-length, Kaskade, with the four-song/31-minute Helios EP, issued through Worst Bassist Records. As with that album, the short-ish offering has a current of progressive metal to coincide with its heavier post-rock affect; “Zyklon” leading off with due charge before the title-track finds stretches of Yawning Man-esque drift, particularly as it builds toward a hard-hitting crescendo in its second half. Chiaroscuro, then. Working shortest to longest in runtime, the procession continues with “Kanagawa” making stark volume trades, growing ferocious but not uncontrolled in its louder moments, the late low end particularly satisfying as it plays off the guitar in the final push, a sudden stop giving 11-minute closer “Cape Wrath” due space to flesh out its middle-ground hypothesis after some initial intensity, the trio of guitarist Ralph Brachtendorf, bassist Falko Schneider and drummer Johannes Dose rearing back to let the EP end with a wash but dropping the payoff with about a minute left to let the guitar finish on its own. Germany, the world, and the universe: none of it is short on instrumental heavy bands, but the purposeful aesthetic mash of Sarkh‘s sound is distinguishing and Helios showcases it well to make the argument.

Sarkh on Facebook

Worst Bassist Records store

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Spiritual Void, Wayfare

A 2LP second long-player from mostly-traditionalist doom metallers Spiritual Void, Wayfare seems immediately geared toward surpassing their 2017 debut, White Mountain, in opening with “Beyond the White Mountain.” With a stretch of harsher vocals to go along with the cleaner-sung verses through its 8:48 and the metal-of-eld wail that meets the crescendo before the nodding final verse, they might’ve done it. The subsequent “Die Alone” (11:48) recalls Candlemass and Death without losing the nod of its rhythm, and “Old” (12:33) reaffirms the position, taking Hellhound Records-style methodologies of European trad doom and pulling them across longer-form structures. Following “Dungeon of Nerthus” (10:24) the shorter “Wandering Doom” (5:31) chugs with a swing that feels schooled by Reverend Bizarre, while “Wandersmann” (13:11) tolls a mournful bell at its outset as though to let you know that the warm-up is over and now it’s time to really doom out. So be it. At a little over an hour long, Wayfare is no minor undertaking, but for what they’re doing stylistically, it shouldn’t be. Morose without melodrama, Wayfare sees Spiritual Void continuing to find their niche in doom, and rest assured, it’s on the doomier end. Of doom.

Spiritual Void on Facebook

Journey’s End Records store

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The River, A Hollow Full of Hope

Even when The River make the trade of tossing out the aural weight of doom — the heavy guitar and bass, the expansive largesse, and so on — they keep the underlying structure. The nod. At least mostly. To explain: the long-running UK four-piece — vocalist Jenny Newton, guitarist Christian Leitch (formerly of 40 Watt Sun), bassist Stephen Morrissey and drummer Jason Ludwig — offer a folkish interpretation of doom and a doomed folk on their fourth long-player, the five-song/40-minute A Hollow Full of Hope taking the acoustic prioritizing of a song like “Open” from 2019’s Vessels into White Tides (review here) and bringing it to the stylistic fore on songs like the graceful opener “Fading,” the lightly electric “Tiny Ticking Clocks” rife with strings and gorgeous self-harmonizing from Newton set to an utterly doomed march, or the four-minute instrumental closer “Hollowful,” which is more than an outro if not a completely built song in relation to the preceding pieces. Melodic, flowing, intentional in arrangement, meter, melody. Sad. Beautiful. “Exits” (9:56) and “A Vignette” (10:26) — also the two longest cuts, though not by a ton — are where one finds that heft and the other side of the doom-folk/folk-doom divide, though it is admirable how thin they make that line. Marked progression. This album will take them past their 25th anniversary, and they greet it hitting a stride. That’s an occasion worth celebrating.

The River on Facebook

Cavernous Records store

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Froglord, Sons of Froglord

Sons of Froglord is the fourth full-length in three years from UK amphibian conceptualist storytellers Froglord, and there’s just about no way they’re not making fun of space rock on “Road Raisin.” “Collapse” grows burly in its hook in the vein of a more rumbling Clutch — and oh, the shenanigans abound! — and there’s a kind of ever-present undercurrent sludgy threat in the more forward push of the glorious anthem to the inanity of career life in “Wednesday” (it doesn’t materialize, but there is a tambourine on “A Swamp of My Own,” so that’s something), but the bulk of the latest chapter in the Froglord tale delivers ’70s-by-way-of-’10s classic heavy blues rock, distinct in its willingness to go elsewhere from and around the boogie swing of “Wizard Gonk” and the fuzzy shuffling foundation of “Garden” at the outset and pull from different eras and subsets of heavy to serve their purposes. “Froglady” is on that beat. On it. And the way “A Swamp of My Own” opens to its chorus is a stirring reminder of the difference drumming can make in elevating a band. After a quick “Closing Ceremony,” they tack on a presumably-not-narrative-related-but-fitting-anyway cover of Creedence Clearwater Revival‘s “Born on the Bayou,” which complements a crash-laced highlight like “The Sage” well and seems to say a bit about where Froglord are coming from as well, i.e., the swamp.

Froglord on Facebook

Froglord on Bandcamp

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Weedevil & Electric Cult, Cult of Devil Sounds

Released digitally with the backing of Abraxas and on CD through Smolder Brains Records, the Cult of Devil Sounds split EP offers two new tracks each from São Paulo, Brazil’s Weedevil and Veraruz, Mexico’s Electric Cult. The former take the A side and fade in on the guitar line “Darkness Inside” with due drama, gradually unfurling the seven-minute doom roller that’s ostensibly working around Electric Wizard-style riffing, but has its own persona in tone, atmosphere and the vocals of Maureen McGee, who makes her first appearance here with the band. The swagger of “Burn It” follows, somewhat speedier and sharper in delivery, with a scorcher solo in its back half, witchy proclamations and satisfying slowdown at the end. Weedevil. All boxes ticked, no question. Check. Electric Cult are rawer in production and revel in that, bringing “Rising From Hell” and “Esoteric Madness” with a more uptempo, rock-ish swing, but moving through sludge and doom by the time the seven minutes of the first of those is done. “Rising From Hell” finishes with ambient guitar, then feedback, which “Esoteric Madness” cuts off to begin with bass; a clever turn. Quickly “Esoteric Madness” grows dark from its outset, pushing into harsh vocals over a slogging march that turns harder-driving with ’70s-via-Church–of–Misery hard-boogie rounding out. That faster finish is a contrast to Weedevil‘s ending slow, and complements it accordingly. An enticing sampler from both.

Weedevil on Facebook

Electric Cult on Facebook

Abraxas on Instagram

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Dr. Space, Suite for Orchestra of Marine Mammals

When I read some article about how the James Webb Space Telescope has looked billions of years into the past chasing down ancient light and seen further toward the creation of the universe than humankind ever before has, I look at some video or other, I should be hearing Dr. Space. I don’t know if the Portugal-based solo artist, synthesist, bandleader, Renaissance man Scott “Dr. Space” Heller (also Øresund Space Collective, Black Moon Circle, etc.) has been in touch with the European Space Agency (ESA) or what their response has been, but even with its organ solo and stated watery purpose, amid sundry pulsations it’s safe to assume the 20-minute title-track “Suite for Orchestra of Marine Mammals” is happening with an orchestra of semi-robot aliens on, indeed, some impossibly distant exoplanet. Heller has long dwelt at the heart of psychedelic improv and the three pieces across the 39 minutes of Suite for Orchestra of Marine Mammals recall classic krautrock ambience while remaining purposefully exploratory. “Going for the Nun” pairs church organ with keyboard before shimmering into proto-techno blips and bloops recalling the Space Age that should’ve had humans on Mars by now, while the relatively brief capper “No Space for Time” — perhaps titled to note the limitations of the vinyl format — still finds room in its six minutes to work in two stages, with introductory chimes shifting toward more kosmiche synth travels yet farther out.

Dr. Space on Facebook

Space Rock Productions website

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Ruiner, The Book of Patience

The debut from Santa Fe-based solo drone project Ruiner — aka Zac Hogan, also of Dysphotic, ex-Drought — is admirable in its commitment to itself. Hogan unveils the outfit with The Book of Patience (on Desert Records), an 80-minute, mostly-single-note piece called “Liber Patientiae,” which if you’re up on your Latin, you know is the title of the album as well. With a willfully glacial pace that could just as easily be a parody of the style — there is definitely an element of ‘is this for real?’ in the listening process, but yeah, it seems to be — “Liber Patientiae” evolves over its time, growing noisier as it approaches 55 or so minutes, the distortion growing more fervent over the better part of the final 25, the linear trajectory underscoring the idea that there’s a plan at work all along coinciding with the experimental nature of the work. What that plan might manifest from here is secondary to the “Liber Patientiae” as a meditative experience. On headphones, alone, it becomes an inward journey. In a crowded room, at least at the outset it’s almost a melodic white noise, maybe a little tense, but stretched out and changing but somehow still solid and singular, making the adage that ‘what you put into it is what you get out’ especially true in this case. And as it’s a giant wall of noise, it goes without saying that not everybody will be up for getting on board, but it’s difficult to imagine the opaque nature of the work is news to Hogan, who clearly is searching for resonance on his own wavelength.

Ruiner on Facebook

Desert Records store

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Welcome to day two of the Summer 2023 Quarterly Review. Yesterday was a genuine hoot — I didn’t realize I had packed it so full of bands’ debut albums, and not repeating myself in noting that in the reviews was a challenge — but blah blah words words later we’re back at it today for round two of seven total.

As I write this, my house is newly emerged from an early morning tornado warning and sundry severe weather alerts, flooding, wind, etc., with that. In my weather head-canon, tornados don’t happen here — because they never used to — but one hit like two towns over a week or so ago, so I guess anything’s possible. My greater concern would be flooding or downed trees or branches damaging the house. I laughed with The Patient Mrs. that of course a tornado would come right after we did the kitchen floor and put the sink back.

We got The Pecan up to experience and be normalized into this brave new world of climate horror. We didn’t go to the basement, but it probably won’t be the last time we talk about whether or not we need to do so. Yes, planet Earth will take care of itself. It will do this by removing the problematic infection over a sustained period of time. Only trouble is humans are the infection.

So anyway, happy Tuesday. Let’s talk about some records.

Quarterly Review #11-20:

Bell Witch, Future’s Shadow Part 1: The Clandestine Gate

Cumbersome in its title and duly stately as it unfurls 83 minutes of Billy Anderson-recorded slow-motion death-doom soul destroy/rebuild, Future’s Shadow Part 1: The Clandestine Gate is not the first longform single-song work from Seattle’s Bell Witch, but the core duo of drummer/vocalist Jesse Shreibman and bassist/vocalist Dylan Desmond found their path on 2017’s landmark Mirror Reaper (review here) and have set themselves to the work of expanding on that already encompassing scope. Moving from its organ intro through willfully lurching, chant-topped initial verses, the piece breaks circa 24 minutes to minimalist near-silence, building itself back up until it seems to blossom fully at around 45 minutes in, but it breaks to organ, rises again, and ultimately seems to not so much to collapse as to be let go into its last eight minutes of melancholy standalone bass. Knowing this is only the first part of a trilogy makes Future’s Shadow Part 1: The Clandestine Gate feel even huger and more opaque, but while its unrelenting atmospheric bleakness will be listenable for a small percentage of the general populace, there’s no question Bell Witch are continuing to push the limits of what they do. Loud or quiet, they are consuming. One should expect no less in the next installment.

Bell Witch on Facebook

Profound Lore Records website

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Plainride, Plainride

Some records are self-titled because the band can’t think of a name. Plainride‘s Plainride is more declarative. Self-released ahead of a Ripple Music issue to accord with timing as the German trio did a Spring support stint with Corrosion of Conformity, the 10-song outing engages with funk, blues rock, metal, prog and on and on and on, and feels specifically geared toward waking up any and all who hear it. The horns blasting in “Fire in the Sky” are a clear signal of that, though one should also allow for the mellowing of “Wanderer,” the interlude “You Wanna…” the acoustic noodler “Siebengebirge,” or the ballady closer “The Lilies” as a corresponding display of dynamic. But the energy is there in “Hello, Operator,” “Ritual” — which reminds of Gozu in its soulful vocals — and through the longer “Shepherd” and the subsequent regrounding in the penultimate “Hour of the Mûmakil,” and it is that kick-in-the-pants sensibility that most defines Plainride as a realization on the part of the band. They sound driven, hungry, expansive and professional, and they greet their audience with a full-on “welcome to the show” mindset, then proceed to try to shake loose the rules of genre from within. Not a minor ambition, but Plainride succeed in letting craft lead the charge in their battle against mediocrity. They don’t universally hit their marks — not that rock and roll ever did or necessarily should — but they take actual chances here and are all the more invigorating for that.

Plainride on Facebook

Ripple Music store

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Benthic Realm, Vessel

Massachusetts doomers Benthic Realm offer their awaited first full-length with Vessel, and the hour-long 2LP is broad and crushing enough to justify the wait. It’s been five years since 2018’s We Will Not Bow (review here), and the three-piece of bassist Maureen Murphy (ex-Second Grave, ex-Curse the Son, etc.), guitarist/vocalist Krista Van Guilder (ex-Second Grave, ex-Warhorse) and drummer Dan Blomquist (also Conclave) conjure worthy expanse with a metallic foundation, Van Guilder likewise effective in a deathly scream and melodic delivery as “Traitors Among Us” quickly affirms, and the band shifting smoothly between the lurch of “Summon the Tide” and speedier processions like “Course Correct,” the title-track or the penultimate “What Lies Beneath,” the album ultimately more defined by mood and the epic nature of Benthic Realm‘s craft than a showcase of tempo on either side. That is, regardless of pace, they deliver with force throughout the album, and while it might be a couple years delayed, it stands readily among the best debuts of 2023.

Benthic Realm on Facebook

Benthic Realm on Bandcamp

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Cervus, Shifting Sands

Cervus follow 2022’s impressive single “Cycles” (posted here) with the three-song EP Shifting Sands, and the Amsterdam heavy psych unit use the occasion to continue to build a range around their mellow-grooving foundation. Beginning quiet and languid and exploratory on “Nirvana Dunes,” which bursts to voluminous life after its midpoint but retains its fluidity, the five-piece of guitarists Jan Woudenberg and Dennis de Bruin, bassist Tom Mourik, keyboardist/guitarist Ton van Rijswijk and drummer Rogier Henkelman saving extra push for middle cut “Tempest,” reminding some of how The Machine are able to turn from heavy jams to more structured riffy shove. That track, shorter at 3:43, is a delightful bit of raucousness that answers the more straightforward fare on 2021’s Ignis EP while setting up a direct transition into “Eternal Shadow,” which builds walls of organ-laced fuzz roll that go out and don’t come back, ending the 16-minute outing in such a way as to make it feel more like a mini-album. They touch no ground here that feels uncertain for them, but that’s only a positive sign as they perhaps work toward making their debut LP. Whether that’s coming or not, Shifting Sands is no less engaging a mini-trip for its brevity.

Cervus on Facebook

Cervus on Bandcamp

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Unsafe Space Garden, Where’s the Ground?

On their third album, Where’s the Ground?, Portuguese experimentalists Unsafe Space Garden tackle heavy existentialist questions as only those truly willing to embrace the absurd could hope to do. From the almost-Jackson 5 casual saunter of “Grown-Ups!” — and by the way, all titles are punctuated and stylized all-caps — to the willfully overwhelming prog-metal play of “Pum Pum Pum Pum Ta Ta” later on, Unsafe Space Garden find and frame emotional and psychological breakthroughs through the ridiculous misery of human existence while also managing to remind of what a band can truly accomplish when they’re willing to throw genre expectations out the window. With shades throughout of punk, prog, indie, sludge, pop new and old, post-rock, jazz, and on and on, they are admirably individual, and unwilling to be anything other than who they are stylistically at the risk of derailing their own work, which — again, admirably — they don’t. Switching between English and Portuguese lyrics, they challenge the audience to approach with an open mind and sympathy for one another since once we were all just kids picking our noses on the same ground. Where’s the ground now? I’m not 100 percent, but I think it might be everywhere if we’re ready to see it, to be on it. Supreme weirdo manifestation; a little manic in vibe, but not without hope.

Unsafe Space Garden on Instagram

gig.ROCKS on Bandcamp

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Neon Burton, Take a Ride

Guitarist/vocalist Henning Schmerer reportedly self-recorded and mixed and played all instruments himself for Neon Burton‘s third full-length, Take a Ride. The band was a trio circa 2021’s Mighty Mondeo, and might still be one, but with programmed drums behind him, Schmerer digs in alone across these space-themed six songs/46 minutes. The material keeps the central duality of Neon Burton‘s work to-date in pairing airy heavy psychedelia with bouts of denser riffing, rougher-edged verses and choruses offsetting the entrancing jams, resulting in a sound that draws a line between the two but is able to move between them freely. “Mother Ship” starts the record quiet but grows across its seven minutes to Truckfighters-esque fuzzy swing, and “I Run,” which follows, unveils the harder-landing aspect of the band’s character. The transitions are unforced and feel like a natural dynamic in the material, but even the jammiest parts would have to be thought out beforehand to be recorded with just one person, so perhaps Take a Ride‘s most standout achievement — see also: tone, melody, groove — is in overcoming the solo nature of its making to sound as much like a full band as it does in the 10-minute “Orbit” or the crescendo of “Disconnect” that rumbles into the sample-topped ambient-plus-funky meander at the start of instrumental closer “Wormhole,” which dares a bit of proggier-leaning chug on the way to its thickened, nodding culmination.

Neon Burton on Facebook

Neon Burton on Bandcamp

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Thousand Vision Mist, Depths of Oblivion

Though pedigreed in a Maryland doom scene that deeply prides itself on traditionalism, Laurel, MD, trio Thousand Vision Mist mark out a progressive path forward with their second full-length, Depths of Oblivion, the eight songs/35 minutes of which seem to owe as much to avant metal as to doom and/or heavy rock. Opener “Sands of Time” imagines what might’ve been if Virus had been raised in the Chesapeake Watershed, while “Citadel of Green” relishes its organically ’70s-style groove with an intricacy of interpretation so as to let Thousand Vision Mist come across as respectful of the past but not hindered by it creatively. Comprised of guitarist/vocalist Danny Kenyon (ex-Life Beyond, Indestroy, etc.), bassist/backing vocalist Tony Comulada (War Injun, Outside Truth, etc.) and drummer Chris Sebastian (ex-Retribution), the band delves into the pastoral on “Love, the Destroyer” and the sunshine-till-the-fuzz-hits-then-still-awesome “Thunderbird Blue,” while “Battle for Yesterday” filters grunge nostalgia through their own complexity and capper “Reversal of Misfortune” moves from its initial riffiness — perhaps in conversation with “We Flew Too High” at the start of what would be side B — into sharper shred with an unshakable rhythmic foundation beneath. I didn’t know what to expect so long after 2018’s Journey to Ascension and the Loss of Tomorrow (review here), which was impressive, but there’s no level on which Thousand Vision Mist haven’t outdone themselves with Depths of Oblivion.

Thousand Vision Mist on Facebook

Thousand Vision Mist on Bandcamp

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New Dawn Fades, Forever

Founded and fronted by vocalist George Chamberlin (Ritual Earth), the named-for-a-Joy–Division-tune New Dawn Fades make their initial public offering with the three-songer Forever, which at 15 minutes long doesn’t come close to the title but makes its point well before it’s through all the same. In “True Till Death,” they update a vibe somewhere between C.O.C.‘s Blind and a less-Southern version of Nola-era Down, while “This Night Has Closed My Eyes” adds some Kyuss flair in Chamberlin‘s vocal and the concluding “New Moon” reinforces the argument with a four-minute parade of swing and chug, Sabbath-bred if not Sabbath-worshiping. If the band — whose lineup seems to have changed since this was recorded at least in the drums — are going to take on a full-length next, they’ll want to shake things up, maybe an interlude, etc., but as a short outing and even more as their first, they don’t necessarily need to shock with off-the-wall style. Instead, Forever portrays New Dawn Fades as having a clear grasp on what they want to do and the songwriting command to make it happen. Wherever they go from here, it’ll be worth keeping eyes and ears open.

New Dawn Fades on Facebook

New Dawn Fades on Bandcamp

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Aton Five, Aton Five

According to the band, Aton Five‘s mostly-instrumental self-titled sophomore full-length was recorded between 2019 and 2022, and that three-year span would seem to have allowed for the Moscow-based four-piece to deep-dive into the five pieces that comprise it, so that the guitar and organ answering each other on “Danse Macabre” and the mathy angularity that underscores much of the second half of “Naked Void” exist as fully envisioned versions of themselves, even before you get to the 22-minute “Lethe,” which closes. With the soothing “Clepsydra” in its middle as the only track under eight minutes long, Aton Five have plenty of time to develop and build outward from the headspinning proffered by “Alienation” at the album’s start and in the bassy jabs and departure into and through clearheaded drift-metal (didn’t know it existed, but there it is), the work they’ve put into the material is obvious and no less multifaceted than are the songs, “Alienation” resolving in a combination of sweeps and sprints, each of which resonates with purpose. That one might say the same of each of the three parts that make up “Lethe” should signal the depth of consideration in the entirety of the release. I know there was a plague on, but maybe Aton Five benefitted as well from having the time to focus as they so plainly did. Whether you try to keep up with the turns or sit back and let the band go where they will, Aton Five, the album, feels like the kind of record that might’ve ended up somewhere other than where the band first thought it would, but is stronger for having made the journey to the finished product.

Aton Five on Facebook

Aton Five on Bandcamp

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Giants Dwarfs and Black Holes, In a Sandbox Full of Suns

Their second LP behind 2020’s Everwill, the five-song In a Sandbox Full of Suns finds German four-piece Giants Dwarfs and Black Holes fully switched on in heavy jam fashion, cuts like “Love Story” and “In a Sandbox Full of Suns” — both of which top 11 minutes — fleshed out with improv-sounding guitar and vocals over ultra-fluid rhythms, blending classic heavy blues rock and prog with hints and only hints of vintage-ism and letting the variety in their approach show itself in the four-minute centerpiece “Dead Urban Desert” and the suitably cosmic atmosphere to which they depart in closer “Time and Space.” Leadoff “Coffee Style” is rife with attitude, but wahs itself into an Eastern-inflected lead progression after the midpoint and before turning back to the verse, holding its relaxed but not lazy feel all the while. It is a natural brand of psychedelia that results throughout — an enticing sound between sounds; the proverbial ‘not-lost wandering’ in musical form — as Giants Dwarfs and Black Holes don’t try to hypnotize with effects or synth, etc., but prove willing to take a walk into the unknown when the mood hits. It doesn’t always, but they make the most of their opportunities regardless, and if “Dead Urban Desert” is the exception, its placement as the centerpiece tells you it’s not there by accident.

Giants Dwarfs and Black Holes on Facebook

Interstellar Smoke Records store

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Spinda Records has announced picking up two bands in the last 40-or-so hours, sending word down the PR wire that Argentina’s Fin del Mundo and Portugal’s Travo have signed to the label — the latter also a collaboration with Portuguese imprint Gig.Rocks — with new releases coming soon. I’ve heard the new Travo and it’s right on modern heavy psych, sounding like it’s from another galaxy. I don’t know the status of Fin del Mundo‘s next offering, but if Spinda wanted to do a pressing for their pastoral 2022 second EP, La Ciudad Que Dejamos, hearing it for the first time following word of their signing, I’d hardly argue.

The record is righteously heavy in the bass and has a bit of post-rock float in the vocals and guitar, a kind of heavy-indie psych-gaze, melodically focused and flowing. It’s only four songs, so perhaps it might be paired with their similarly-constructed 2020 self-titled across a compiled 12″? Just tossing out ideas, here. Either way, “El Incendio” sounds like The Cure in a way that sits well alongside Travo‘s more blasted cosmic rock.

Details are sparse but follow here in not-really-organized-looking-but-organized-in-my-head-and-it’s-my-site-so-bite-me fashion, along with audio and video from both acts:

FIN DEL MUNDO – NEW BAND!!!

Post-rock & shoegaze band FIN DEL MUNDO from Argentina joins Spinda Records. Some exciting news are coming… but in the meantime please enjoy their live session for the KEXP, with nearly 900.000 views in 8 months!

FIN DEL MUNDO:
Julieta Heredia – guitarra
Julieta Limia – batería
Lucía Masnatta – guitarra y voz
Yanina Silva – bajo y coros

TRAVO – NEW BAND!!!

We’ve some awesome news to share with y’all. TRAVO’s upcoming second studio album ‘Astromoporh God’ is fully ready, sounds amazing and is coming out in Autumn through an Iberian collaboration between Gig.Rocks and Spinda Records. Keep an eye as both album pre-order and live dates are just behind the corner. (#128247#) Francisco Gaspar

Enjoy this live video from their gig at Sonic Blast 2022!

TRAVO:
David Ferreira – Bass
Gonçalo Carneiro – Electric Guitar, Synthesizer
Gonçalo Ferreira – Vocals, Electric Guitar, Synthesizer, Percussion, Organ, Piano
Nuno Gonçalves – Drums

https://www.facebook.com/lasfindelmundo
https://www.instagram.com/lasfindelmundo/
https://findelmundo.bandcamp.com/
https://linktr.ee/FinDelMundo

http://facebook.com/travoband
https://www.instagram.com/travo_band
https://travoband.bandcamp.com/
https://linktr.ee/travo_band

https://www.facebook.com/SpindaRecords
https://www.instagram.com/spindarecords
https://spindarecords.bandcamp.com/
https://www.spindarecords.com/

Fin Del Mundo, Live on KEXP

Fin Del Mundo, La Ciudad Que Dejamos (2022)

Travo, “The Beast/Sinking Creation” live at SonicBlast Fest 2022

Travo, Sinking Creation (2022)

Putting this here in part as a note to myself. Asimov and the Hidden Circus released their album Flowers in June 2020, and while the fact that it’s three years later invariably makes the Saturn Eye Records cassette (K7) edition out now a reissue, it’s also the first physical pressing the full-length has received, so again we see old paradigms and definitions not really fitting what’s happening now. But the songs are interesting, and I hear a sonic point of view in the material that has depth as well as space in atmospheric terms, so while I’ve skimmed through, this is basically me making a note to myself to dig in further. Will that happen this week, month, year? I would say part of what makes life exciting is not knowing, but really it just makes life overwhelming, frenetic and depressing.

Still, the music’s good, and one hangs a hat on that when possible. Also, I like tapes. They’re never gonna be as cool as LPs, even ironically, but they continue to fill a gap between CDs and vinyl and if you’re wondering why they’re still pressed, the answer is that sometimes somebody will see something about a tape release and think, hey gee, maybe I should check that out, and then share that with a friend or two of their own, which is exactly what has happened here if you’re reading this sentence.

To wit:

SE-008: Flowers by Asimov And The Hidden Circus

Order link: https://shop.saturneyerecords.com/product/flowers

New Release SE-008: May has finally brought us ‘Flowers’ on tape from Asimov And The Hidden Circus. This is a very special reissue for Saturn Eye Records and has been in the making for several months now.

Asimov’s unique blend of hypnotic, far out sounds have a way of breaking through barriers of negativity and bringing one to head-nodding peace. You will groove – you will smile. It’s therapeutic psychedelic music in its heaviest form, and we are absolutely thrilled to share it with you on this new format.

These tapes are in a limited edition of 100 copies (an undisclosed amount will be available direct from @asimovstenarmusik in August). Available now from shop.saturneyerecords.com.

Recorded at the height of the Covid 19 pandemic. Original vinyl release was June 1st, 2020. New tape released May 12th, 2023.

Tracklisting:
1. People Of The Mountain Sermon 07:40
2. The Seeker 04:45
3. Until The Morning Comes 05:43
4. Shaman Sacrifice 05:44
5. Shadows Of Summer 04:20
6. The Merchant 08:06
7. The Healer 13:07

https://www.facebook.com/Asimov.Pt/
https://www.instagram.com/asimovstenarmusik
https://asimovstenarmusik.bandcamp.com/

https://instagram.com/saturneyerecords
https://shop.saturneyerecords.com/
https://saturneyerecords.com/

Asimov and the Hidden Circus, Flowers (2020)

If you work in an office, or you ever have, or you’ve ever spoken to someone who has or does or whatever — which is everybody, is what I’m saying — then you’ll probably have a good idea of why I cringe at saying “happy Friday” as though the end of a workweek’s slog is a holiday even with the next week peering just over the horizon beyond the next 48 hours of not-your-boss time. Nonetheless, we’re at the end of this week, hitting 50 records covered in this Quarterly Review, and while I’ll spend a decent portion of the upcoming weekend working on wrapping it up on Monday and Tuesday, I’m grateful for the ability to breathe a bit in doing that more than I have throughout this week.

I’ll say as much in closing out the week as well, but thanks for reading. As always, I hope you enjoy.

Quarterly Review #41-50:

Black Helium, UM

It’s just too cool for the planet. Earth needs to step up its game if it wants to be able handle what London’s Black Helium are dishing out across their five-song third record, UM, from the sprawl and heavy hippie rock of “Another Heaven” to the utter doom that rises to prominence in that 12-minute-ish cut and the oblivion-bound boogie, blowout, and bonfire that is 15:47 closer “The Keys to Red Skeleton’s House (Open the Door)” on the other end, never mind the u-shaped kosmiche march of “I Saw God,” the shorter, stranger, organ-led centerpiece “Dungeon Head” or the motorik “Summer of Hair” that’s so teeth-grindingly tense by the time it’s done you can feel it in your toes. These are but glimpses of the substance that comprises the 45-minute out-there-out-there-out-there stretch of UM, which by the way is also a party? And you’re invited? I think? Yeah, you can go, but the rest of these fools gotta get right if they want to hang with the likes of “I Saw God,” because Black Helium do it weird for the weirdos and the planet might be round but that duddn’t mean it’s not also square. Good thing Black Helium remembered to bring the launch codes. Fire it up. We’re outta here and off to better, trippier, meltier places. Fortunately they’re able to steer the ship as well as set its controls to the heart of the sun.

Black Helium on Facebook

Riot Season Records store

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Seismic, The Time Machine

A demo recording of a single, 29-minute track that’s slated to appear on Seismic‘s debut full-length based around the works of H.G. Wells sometime later this year — yeah, it’s safe to say there’s a bit of context that goes along with understanding where the Philadelphia instrumentalist trio/live-foursome are coming from on “The Time Machine.” Nonetheless, the reach of the song itself — which moves from its hypnotic beginning at about five minutes in to a solo-topped stretch that then gives over to thud-thud-thud pounding heft before embarking on an adventure 30,000 leagues under the drone, only to rise and riff again, doom. the. fuck. on., and recede to minimalist meditation before resolving in mystique-bent distortion and lumber — is significant, and more than enough to stand on its own considering that in this apparently-demo version, its sound is grippingly full. As to what else might be in store for the above-mentioned LP or when it might land, I have no idea and won’t speculate — I’m just going by what they say about it — but I know enough at this point in my life to understand that when a band comes along and hits you with a half-hour sledgehammering to the frontal cortex as a sign of things to come, it’s going to be worth keeping track of what they do next. If you haven’t heard “The Time Machine” yet, consider this a heads up to their heads up.

Seismic on Facebook

Seismic linktree

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These Beasts, Cares, Wills, Wants

Something of an awaited first long-player from Chicago’s These Beasts, who crush the Sanford Parker-produced Cares, Wills, Wants with modern edge and fluidity moving between heavier rock and sludge metal, the three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Chris Roo, bassist/vocalist Todd Fabian and drummer Keith Anderson scratching a similar itch in intensity and aggression as did L.A. sludgecore pummelers -(16)- late last year, but with their own shimmer in the guitar on “Nervous Fingers,” post-Baroness melody in “Cocaine Footprints,” and tonal heft worthy of Floor on the likes of “Blind Eyes” and the more purely caustic noise rock of “Ten Dollars and Zero Effort.” “Code Name” dizzies at the outset, while “Trap Door” closes and tops out at over seven minutes, perhaps taking its title from the moment when, as it enters its final minute, the bottom drops out and the listener is eaten alive. Beautifully destructive, it’s also somehow what I wish post-hardcore had been in the 2000s, ripping and gnarling on “Southpaw” while still having space among the righteously maddening, Neurot-tribal percussion work to welcome former Pelican guitarist Dallas Thomas for a guest spot. Next wave of artsy Chicago heavy noise? Sign me up. And I don’t know if that’s Roo or Fabian with the harsh scream, but it’s a good one. You can hear the mucus trying to save the throat from itself. Vocal cords, right down the trap door.

These Beasts on Facebook

Magnetic Eye Records store

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Ajeeb, Refractions

Comprised of Cucho Segura on guitar and vocals, Sara Gdm on bass and drummer Rafa Pacheco, Ajeeb are the first band from the Canary Islands to be written about here, and their second album — issued through no fewer than 10 record labels, some of which are linked below — is the 11-song/42-minute Refractions, reminding in heavy fashion that the roots of grunge were in noisy punk all along. There’s some kick behind songs like “Far Enough” and “Mold,” and the later “Stuck for Decades” reminds of grainy festival videos where moshing was just people running into each other — whereas on “Mustard Surfing” someone might get punched in the head — but the listening experience goes deeper the further in you get, with side B offering a more dug-in take with the even-more-grunge “Slow-Vakia” building on “Oh Well” two songs earlier and leading into the low-end shovefest “Stuck for Decades,” which you think is going to let you breathe and then doesn’t, the noisier “Double Somersault” and closer/longest song “Tail Chasing” (5:13) taking the blink-and-it’s-over quiet part in “Amnesia” and building it out over a dynamic finish. The more you listen, the more you’re gonna hear, of course, but on the most basic level, the adaptable nature of their sound results in a markedly individual take. It’s the kind of thing 10 labels might want to release.

Ajeeb on Facebook

Spinda Records website

Clever Eagle Records website

The Ghost is Clear Records website

Violence in the Veins website

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OAK, Disintegrate

One might be tempted to think of Porto-based funeral doomers OAK as a side-project for guitarist/vocalist Guilherme Henriques, bassist Lucas Ferrand and drummer Pedro Soares, the first two of whom play currently and the latter formerly of also-on-Season–of–Mist extreme metallers Gaerea, but that does nothing to take away from the substance of the single-song full-length Disintegrate, which plies its heft in emotionality, ambience and tone alike. Throughout 44 minutes, the three-piece run an album’s worth of a gamut in terms of tempo, volume, ebbs and flows, staying grim all the while but allowing for the existence of beauty in that darkness, no less at some of the most willfully grueling moments. The rise and fall around 20 minutes in, going from double-kick-infused metallurgy to minimal standalone guitar and rebuilding toward death-growl-topped nod some six minutes later, is worth the price of admission alone, but the tortured ending, with flourish either of lead guitar or keys behind the shouted layers before moving into tremolo payoff and the quieter contemplation that post-scripts, shouldn’t be missed either. Like any offering of such extremity, Disintegrate won’t be for everyone, but it makes even the air you breathe feel heavier as it draws you into the melancholic shade it casts.

OAK on Facebook

Season of Mist store

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Ultra Void, Mother of Doom

“Are we cursed?” “Is this living?” “Are we dying?” These are the questions asked after the on-rhythm sampled orgasmic moaning abates on the slow-undulating title-track of Ultra Void‘s Mother of Doom. Billed as an EP, the five-songer skirts the line of full-length consideration at 31 minutes — all the more for its molten flow as punctuated by the programmed drums — and finds the Brooklynite outfit revamped as a solo-project for Jihef Garnero, who moves from that leadoff to let the big riff do most of the talking in the stoned-metal “Sic Mundus Creatus Est” and the raw self-jam of the nine-minute “Måntår,” which holds back its vocals for later and is duly hypnotic for it. Shorter and more rocking, “Squares & Circles” maintains the weirdo vibe just the same, and at just three and a half minutes, “Special K” closes out in similar fashion with perhaps more swing in the rhythm. With those last two songs offsetting the down-the-life-drain spirit of the first three, Mother of Doom seems experimental in its construction — Garnero feeling his way into this new incarnation of the band and perhaps also recording and mixing himself in this context — but the disillusion comes through as organic, and whether we’re living or dying (spoiler: dying), that gives these songs the decisive “ugh” with which they seem to view the world around them.

Ultra Void on Facebook

Ultra Void on Bandcamp

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Aktopasa, Journey to the Pink Planet

Italian trio Aktopasa — also stylized as Akṭōpasa, if you’re in a fancy mood — seem to revel in the breakout moments on their second long-player and Argonauta label debut, Journey to the Pink Planet, as heard in the crescendo nod and boogie, respectively, of post-intro opener “Calima” (10:27) and closer “Foreign Lane” (10:45), the album’s two longest tracks and purposefully-placed bookends around the other songs. Elsewhere, the Venice-based almost-entirely-instrumentalists drift early in “It’s Not the Reason” — which actually features the record’s only vocals near its own end, contributed by Mattia Filippetto — and tick boxes around the tenets of heavy psychedelic microgenre, from the post-Colour Haze floating intimacy at the start of “Agarthi” to the fuzzy and fluid jam that branches out from it and the subsequent “Sirdarja” with its tabla and either sitar or guitar-as-sitar outset and warm-toned, semi-improv-sounding jazzier conclusion. From “Alif” (the intro) into “Calima” and “Lunar Eclipse,” the intent is to hypnotize and carry the listener through, and Aktopasa do so effectively, giving the chemistry between guitarist Lorenzo Barutta, bassist Silvio Tozzato and drummer Marco Sebastiano Alessi a suitably natural showcase and finding peace in the process, at least sonically-speaking, that’s then fleshed out over the remainder. A record to breathe with.

Aktopasa on Facebook

Argonauta Records store

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Troll Teeth, Underground Vol. 1

There’s heavy metal somewhere factored into the sound of Philadelphia’s Troll Teeth, but where it resides changes. The band — who here work as a four-piece for the first time — unveil their Underground Vol. 1 EP with four songs, and each one has a different take. In “Cher Ami,” the question is what would’ve happened if Queens of the Stone Age were in the NWOBHM. In “Expired,” it’s whether or not the howling of the two guitars will actually melt the chug that offsets it. It doesn’t, but it comes close to overwhelming in the process. On “Broken Toy” it’s can something be desert rock because of the drums alone, and in the six-minute closer “Garden of Pillars” it’s Alice in Chains with a (more) doomly reimagining and greater melodic reach in vocals as compared to the other three songs, but filled out with a metallic shred that I guess is a luxury of having two guitars on a record when you haven’t done so before. Blink and you’ll miss its 17-minute runtime, but Troll Teeth have four LPs out through Electric Talon, including 2022’s Hanged, Drawn, & Quartered, so there’s plenty more to dig into should you be so inclined. Still, if the idea behind Underground Vol. 1 was to scope out whether the band works as constructed here, the concept is proven. Yes, it works. Now go write more songs.

Troll Teeth on Facebook

Electric Talon Records store

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Finis Hominis, Sordidum Est

Lead track “Jukai” hasn’t exploded yet before Finis Hominis‘ Sordidum Est EP has unveiled the caustic nature of its bite in scathing feedback, and what ensues from there gives little letup in the oppressive, extreme sludge brutality, which makes even the minute-long “Cavum Nigrum” sample-topped drone interlude claustrophobic, never mind the assault that takes place — fast first, then slow, then crying, then slow, then dead — on nine-minute capper “Lorem Ipsum.” The bass hum that begins centerpiece “Improportionatus” is a thread throughout that 7:58 piece, the foundation on which the rest of the song resides, the indecipherable-even-if-they-were-in-English growls and throat-tearing shouts perfectly suited to the heft of the nastiness surrounding. “Jukai” has some swing in the middle but hearing it is still like trying to inhale concrete, and “Sinne Floribus” is even meaner and rawer, the Brazilian trio resolving in a devastating and noise-caked, visceral regardless of pace or crash, united in its alienated feel and aural punishment. And it’s their first EP! Jesus. Unless they’re actually as unhinged as they at times sound — possible, but difficult — I wouldn’t at all expect it to be their last. A band like this doesn’t happen unless the people behind it feel like it needs to, and most likely it does.

Finis Hominis on Facebook

Abraxas Produtora on Instagram

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Space Shepherds, Losing Time Finding Space

With its title maybe referring to the communion among players and the music they’re making in the moment of its own heavy psych jams, Losing Time Finding Space is the second studio full-length from Belfast instrumentalist unit Space Shepherds. The improvised-sounding troupe seem to have a lineup no less fluid than the material they unfurl, but the keyboard in “Ending the Beginning (Pt. 1)” gives a cinematic ambience to the midsection, and the fact that they even included an intro and interlude — both under two minutes long — next to tracks the shortest of which is 12:57 shows a sense of humor and personality to go along with all that out-there cosmic exploratory seeking. Together comprising a title-track, “Losing Time…” (17:34) and “…Finding Space” (13:27) are unsurprisingly an album unto themselves, and being split like “Ending the Beginning” speaks perhaps of a 2LP edition to come, or at very least is emblematic of the mindset with which they’re approaching their work. That is to say, as they move forward with these kinds of mellow-lysergic jams, they’re not unmindful either of the listener’s involvement in the experience or the prospect of realizing them in the physical as well as digital realms. For now, an hour’s worth of longform psychedelic immersion will do nicely, thank you very much.

Space Shepherds on Facebook

Space Shepherds on Bandcamp

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I’m not going to pretend to have heard every band in this 16-strong announcement from Portugal’s SonicBlast Fest 2023, and honestly, that’s part of the appeal as far as I’m concerned. And if you’re looking for bigger names, certainly bringing in The Black Angels and Thuston Moore of Sonic Youth ought to qualify. But check out Mythic Sunship being confirmed, Mirror Queen heading abroad once again from their home in New York, Dozer supporting their first album in 15 years, Crippled Black Phoenix bringing their thoroughly English gloom to the otherwise sunshiny proceedings, Sasquatch pushing their forever-tour further presumably after completing the recording of their next LP, Danava and Love Gang both supporting new releases, on and on.

Is this the part where I tell you how killer the lineup looks and perhaps list off the various parts of my body I’d cut off in order to attend? Yeah, probably. But my own escapism aside, you can see for yourself what SonicBlast has put together in terms of a diverse range of sounds based around a unifying heavy ideal, and between the new names and those previously confirmed, it seems like it’s going to be a special couple days for those attending as well as the bands actually playing the thing. Maybe that could be you too.

Here’s the latest from social media:

We’re so proud and honored to announce 16 more bands that’ll blow our minds this summer, at SonicBlast Fest 2023 — The Black Angels, Thurston Moore Group, Bombino, Dozer, CRIPPLED BLACK PHOENIX (official), Imarhan, Hällas, Scowl, SPY, Sasquatch, LOVE GANG, Mythic Sunship, Etran de L’Aïr, DANAVA, Mirror Queen and scatterbrainiac!!

Join us in this crazy heavy psychedelic weekend by the ocean at Praia da Duna dos Caldeirões, Âncora, Portugal!

*** many more to be announced soon ***

Full festival tickets are already on sale at BOL (https://garboyl.bol.pt/Comprar/Bilhetes/114471-sonicblast_fest_2023-garboyl_lives/Sessoes) and at masqueticket.com

Artwork by Branca Studio

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