Posted in Questionnaire on November 30th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Kelly Schilling of Dreadnought, BleakHeart and Morningstar Delirium
—
How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
I’m a musician, composer and performer. I was introduced to music at a young age, piano lessons, music in school etc., and latched onto metal as a young teen. I was inspired and impressed by the massivity and culture of heavy music and eventually gravitated towards playing guitar. Going to shows was always so inspiring, I knew that music would be my forever home.
Describe your first musical memory.
My earliest musical memories are of listening to early ’90s “boy bands” and “girl bands”. I remember making up dance routines with my friends to the Spice Girls and Britney Spears for example. Christina Aguilera was the first concert I went to, I don’t remember what age, but I was very young. Aside from that, I remember taking piano lessons as a kid and hating practicing, which is funny to think about now.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
It is tough to pick one musical memory, but some of my best memories are from going to concerts when I was a young teen. My friend and I would wait in line for hours prior to the show in order to solidify a spot front and center. I remember everyone on stage feeling so giant and otherworldly and I loved rocking out during their performance. It definitely led to what I do today.
Years of touring have also brought me a plethora of wonderful memories and I’m incredibly grateful to be able to travel and perform with my bandmates.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
I think there are many instances of being tested throughout life. I feel as if every time I get frustrated I am being tested on my kindness and patience, towards myself and others. I try my best to give others the benefit of the doubt and try to not draw conclusions too quickly.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
Artistic progression can lead to a greater understanding of oneself, to an understanding of personal strengths and weaknesses and how to best use ones strengths and improve upon weakness, or when to ask for help. It can lead to a deeper connection with the world and people around us, and a deeper connection with oneself.
How do you define success?
My relationship with success has taken different forms throughout my life. Success has often meant the completion of a goal, of something that has not yet been obtained and then acquired. But I also think success is having gratitude for what one has already accomplished. I think there is a balance between chasing goals and having gratitude for the present. Otherwise success can become a carrot one is always chasing. I still fall into this trap, but try my best to not get lost in wanting more.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
In the grand scheme of the world I wish I didn’t have to see so much hate and suffering. I wish we could rise above the dark sides of our human form and build an existence that allows everyone to flourish.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
I really love sad ambient piano music and would like to explore more with writing in that realm. I always have ideas for solo work, but that will come when time allows. Hopefully more work with Morningstar Delirium in the future too. I’d love to take classes on various crafts, such as jewelry making, painting, and ceramics, so when time allows I’ll explore some new creative paths.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
I think the most essential function of art is connecting to people and building community. Visual art and music for example are a language in itself that can connect people beyond words, by doing so it bridges language gaps, allowing many around the world to connect who otherwise would not be able to speak. It reminds me that we are all connected, experiencing many of the same emotions despite our different circumstances.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
Autumn time with my partner, halloween, crisp air, the color changes and all that comes with this magical time of the year.
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 25th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
This has been in the works for a while. A Black Math Horseman reunion was teased in 2019, and made manifest in Feb. 2020 with a return to the stage slated for the next month.
The next month, of course, was March 2020. So much for that.
The news that the Los Angeles band damn near every post-rock act for the last decade has been trying to sound like have signed to Profound Lore and will release a self-titled EP on Oct. 21 is some of the best news you’ll see for the rest of the year. I mean that. The legacy of their 2009 album, Wyllt (discussed here, also here), is the real deal, and more than that, it holds up to the 13 years that have passed since it was first released. I know that’s not an eternity or anything, but think of all the shit that’s come and gone since then. Record is a monument.
Their new video for “The Bough” is playing below. Preorders are up for the EP. You know the deal. PR wire info follows.
BLACK MATH HORSEMAN: Self-Titled Comeback EP Set For Release October 21st Via Profound Lore Records; “The Bough” Video Unveiled + Preorders Available
BLACK MATHHORSEMAN have re-emerged from the fog of time and memory with a stunning new self-titled comeback EP, set for release on October 21st via Profound Lore Records.
In 2009, BLACK MATH HORSEMAN released their debut album, Wyllt. The band’s music was unlike almost everything that existed at the time. It was hypnotic, heavy, sonic alchemy that seemed to emanate from another time, another place. The members — vocalist/bassist Sera Timms, guitarists Ian Barry and Bryan Tulao, and drummer Sasha Popovic — had somehow tapped into heavy music’s collective subconscious. A European tour, along with appearances at Roadburn and Primavera Sound, solidified BLACK MATH HORSEMAN’s reputation as a mesmerizing live band. Then, just a few years later, they were gone.
Thirteen years later, their follow-up to Wyllt makes it seem as if the band never stopped playing together. A trance-inducing journey to the center of humanity’s inner turmoil, Black Math Horseman is meant to be listened to as a single, continuous composition.
Conceptually and lyrically, the record continues the storyline from Wyllt, which follows the mysterious character known as the Black Math Horseman. “This is where the character really comes into full bloom with their ‘black math,’ which is aggressive, manipulative reality shaping,” Timms explains.
“The essence of the album is overcoming a great enemy, a great adversarial force, and reaching a place of harmony that has never been found before,” she continues. “You go to a dark place and destroy relationships that you love, all based on ego. Eventually, you have nothing. And when you have nothing, you have to find a new way of doing things. That’s where we’re at now as a band and family, and that’s also the theme of the record.”
Much of Black Math Horseman was recorded in the band’s rehearsal space with engineer Manny Nieto. Covid lockdown kicked in the very next day, so Timms didn’t track her vocals —this time in the studio — until five months later. All subsequent overdubs and mixing were handled by Ian Barry, with guidance from Ben Chisholm.
Though the album was composed as one long song, the band divided it into chapters to accommodate today’s listening habits. Gorgeous centerpiece, and first single, “The Bough” captures a moment of clarity in the main character’s trajectory. “‘The Bough’ is essentially that moment when you realize you have been courting an illusion,” Timms explains. “You’ve put every bit of your heart and soul into courting this illusion, but when you realize that there’s nothing behind it, you want to destroy everything — not only the illusion, but reality and yourself. It’s that lightning bolt of clarity that comes through destruction — that’s what the song is.”
View the band’s captivating video for “The Bough,” directed by Travis Shinn and Jeremy Danger, at THIS LOCATION.
Black Math Horseman will be released on vinyl and digital formats. Find preorders at THIS LOCATION: https://linktr.ee/blackmathhorseman
Black Math Horseman Track Listing: 1. Black Math Horseman 2. Boar Domain 3. The Bough 4. Cypher
“When we came together initially as a band, we had no goals aside from seeing if we could make beautiful music together,” Timms explains of the group’s beginnings. “We made a demo, which turned into an album because it was liked. And then we became a working band that was being asked to play shows and tours. But we had never discussed what the long-term goals of the band were. There became a schism between some members wanting to become a professional band and others wanting to remain in the creative center of the rehearsal space. Those disagreements led to the band dissolving.”
In 2018, the members of BLACK MATH HORSEMAN reconvened. “At first, the conversation was about how we were all in different places now, and could we even go back to being that band that we were?” Timms offers. “It feels like it’s been a thousand years since we wrote that music. Since then, I’d gone in a very different direction and barely even listened to heavy music anymore. So, initially we just got back together as friends to see what would happen. Maybe we’d write completely different music now — and we were all open to that.”
But that’s not how it worked out at all. “When we started jamming again, we didn’t sound any different,” Timms says. “We discovered that the music that comes from us four together is something that we have no control over. It just happens. It’s a recipe that’s beyond us.”
Unlike with Wyllt, Timms chose not to play bass on the new offering. Instead, multi-instrumentalist Rex Elle graciously filled in. “Rex played everything that I wrote and added a few parts of her own, but I didn’t play bass on the album because I wanted to just focus on singing,” Timms explains. “I’m going to be performing without playing bass, and I don’t want my vocal parts to be limited to what I can do while I’m playing bass.”
Ultimately, Black Math Horseman is so much more than a reunion release. It’s a celebration of familial bonds and shared history. “The core essence of the band is the family that we have, and the music we make within that family,” Timms concludes. “There’s nothing else.”
Posted in Reviews on August 9th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
When it’s not busy being both at the same time, Dreadnought‘s fifth full-length, The Endless, is alternatingly beautiful and destructive, the Denver progressive-black-metal-and-then-some outfit weaving genres together toward an individual expressive purpose in craft and reach. It is comprised of six songs that don’t quite run directly into each other across two vinyl sides (three tracks per), each leading off with the longest piece for its half followed by two shorter cuts, so that “Worlds Break” (8:28) and “Liminal Veil” (9:09) are responsible for leading the listener into and through an atmospheric procession winding enough to make one wonder at times if there’s a path underneath at all, but guided by skillful enough hands that the answer is always yes.
Guitarist/vocalist Kelly Schilling, bassist Kevin Handlon, drummer Jordan Clancy and keyboardist/vocalist Lauren Vieira — recently replaced by Emily Shreve — have precious little to prove at this point in their tenure. A decade from their inception and nine years out from their 2013 debut, Lifewoven, they are able to bring “Worlds Break” from the mountain folk of its beginning build through post-metal lushness into scathing, volcanic aural char and ultimately into something that is neither and both and definitively Dreadnought‘s own as much of the record that follows will continue to be — hanging chimes and all — whatever whiffs of influence one might get along the way from Isis or Enslaved, Alcest, or any number of post-rock acts, jazz cats, classical pianists and so on that I’m nowhere near cool enough to know.
That their expansive approach is unified at all is impressive; it was on 2019’s Emergence and 2017’s A Wake in Sacred Waves (review here) as well, but there’s a shift in production in The Endless that pulls Clancy‘s kick down in the mix and feels less directly tied to metal than was the last album. Pete de Boer at World Famous Studios in the duly mountainous Breckinridge, Colorado, produced, mixed and mastered, and the resulting collaboration seems to adjust the balance between fluidity and impact so that as far as “Worlds Break” goes, it never feels any more disjointed than the band wants it to — when the album’s first scream and surge hits at 2:52 into the opener, that shift is supposed to be and to feel sudden, for example — and the aurally poetic rhythm that backs the melodies in the guitar, bass, keys and shared vocals between Schilling and Vieira on “Midnight Moon” is hypnotic without feeling overwrought.
Likewise, one might find throughout that some of the most intense moments aren’t necessarily when they’re blasting out throatrippers and accompanying squibbleriffs, but as with the bassy midsection of “Midnight Moon,” that beginning stretch of “Worlds Break” and the slowdown finish for side A in the title-track that will find a correspondingly doomed complement in side B’s aptly-named capper “The Paradigm Mirror,” it is the tension in their builds, the sometimes manic interplay of (largely clean) vocals and the dynamic nature of what they do that makes The Endless hit as hard as it does. It is a record you feel physically as much as you hear, and even in its moments of release — “The Endless” slowing down for an echoing-scream roll and wash that gives way to residual guitar drift — the ambience is taut.
In itself, that might seem unlikely, but it’s essential to Dreadnought‘s approach here, and it allows the band to continue exploring with sound as they make their way through the linear course of their material, introducing staticky synth at the outset of “Liminal Veil” to answer Schilling‘s vocal belting and the avant garde weighted guitar strums, atmosphere central but not at all void of emotion. “Liminal Veil” has more breadth in its nine minutes than many bands do in their entire career, but the same could be said of “The Endless” before it, which is about half as long, or the penultimate “Gears of Violent Endurance,” which follows.
As side B unfolds, the second of its three tracks brings The Endless‘ most immediate and outright blackened thrust, but refuses to be tethered just to that, turning to airy, progressive strum for a verse before digging back in, hinting at thicker tonality, then breaking altogether as Vieira and Schilling harmonize a capella to introduce and Opethian guitar figure and lead into the triumphantly melodic build of the song’s second half, not quite embodying the violence of the title but perhaps the aftermath of those gears’ grinding, immersive in a way Dreadnought aren’t always willing to be but consistent in its will to serve no gods stylistically more than it serves the interests of its own craft. That is to say, Dreadnought have an idea of who they are as a band and they’re no less able to work against it as with it and still carry their audience with them.
It is important to note that, as with any kind of extreme music, that audience needs to be willing to go. The Endless is not without its sense of challenge, either for the band challenging themselves or for their challenging their listenership to keep up with them. But the return on the investment of repeat visits is significant, and just as “Worlds Break” brought an encapsulation of what was to come — a closer’s summary slotted as the opener — so too does “The Paradigm Mirror” end the album with an underscoring of the plan that’s been at work all the while, and not just in the return of those chimes (which have been peppered here and there en route), but also the heavy post-rock wash of guitar and keys through which Schilling‘s voice cuts over a beat stark enough to feel reminiscent of Author & Punisher, a final lyric about howling at the moon leading into the last minute of wash, the chimes, and various other mountain-woods-lost-to-time communions.
Progressive music can take any number of forms, and The Endless reminds that something harsh can also be inviting. Those woods, while gorgeous, can surely kill you. Still, the command Dreadnought wield over their songs and their ability to convey uncertainty without actually being uncertain ensure that the chaos is thematic without hindering the delivery of the material itself. Something so dug in and its-own-thing is never going to be universally accessible, and there are likely those with whom The Endless won’t resonate, but in its force and fragility, coil and strike, it is cohesive to such a degree and of such a scope that it can only be called the work of masters.
Posted in Whathaveyou on June 23rd, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Not sure as to the accuracy of the photo above, as Denver soundspanners Dreadnought posted just a few days ago about bringing second guitarist Ryan Sims into the lineup to help them bring their new material to life on tour with Elder and Ruby the Hatchet later this summer, but it’s nothing if not atmospheric, and so too is the new streaming track “Midnight Moon” that you’ll find at the bottom of this post. That song, which runs a bit under seven minutes long and is thus a perfect lead single for Dreadnought, runs between doom and post-black metal with a keenly directed ambience, thoughtful vocal arrangement, and affectingly wistful close.
The album is available to preorder on CD/LP/DL though Profound Lore — vinyl to be out later this Fall; hazards of the age — and though I don’t see it on the list of dates below, Dreadnought had previously confirmed they were playing Psycho Las Vegas, and I’m perfectly willing to assume that’s happening. What follows here isn’t even a press release, really. I just snagged the info off Bandcamp, but it’s got the info you need just the same, which is song and the preorder link. Aug. 26 is the release date.
For their fifth full length “The Endless”, Denver, CO genre-defying progressive metal outfit DREADNOUGHT present their most spellbinding musical feature yet. With riveting vocal performances, ferocious grooves, and soaring synthesis, the quartet offers a familiarity to the melodic awe of previous records “Lifewoven” (2013) and “Bridging Realms”(2015) as well as the dark complexities within “A Wake In Sacred Waves” (2017) and “Emergence”(2019), but with a beautifully fresh perspective in writing, production, and performance.
At its inception in 2012, Dreadnought’s four members, including guitarist/vocalist Kelly Schilling, drummer Jordan Clancy, bassist Kevin Handlon, and keyboardist/vocalist Lauren Vieira, strove for a project laser-focused on creativity and exploration, pulling from all aspects of their musical backgrounds to craft something exciting and unique. Joining in the common ground of extreme metal, the quartet explores a blend of prog, doom, folk, jazz, classical, black metal, and post rock.
Thematically, “The Endless” departs from the familiar abstract of Dreadnought’s first four albums and dives into a relatable character arc about the human divide of light and suffering. It is an overture to the complexities of the proliferation of life, exploring the trail of choices that shape our world and our lives. It invites the question, can we overcome our nature and make higher minded choices to better humanity and our planet? Or are we lost in a never ending cycle of shadow?
The album opener “Worlds Break” begins in a post-apocalyptic landscape, heeding our need for guidance in the direst of times. “Midnight Moon” leads the listener in trance, through depths of manipulation and fear. As we reach the title track “The Endless”, lush textures and crooning vocals place us among the pits of despair, shock, and loss. “Liminal Veil” offers a vast landscape of celestial drones and enthusiastic grooves, while “Gears of Violent Endurance” reminds us of our primal nature through great ferocity.
In reaching the album closer “The Paradigm Mirror”, the dust begins to settle yet a great tension remains, inviting us to reflect upon vicious cycles of the human experience and how we can escape them.
Tracklisting: 1. Worlds Break 2. Midnight Moon 3. The Endless 4. Liminal Veil 5. Gears Of Violent Endurance 6. The Paradigm Mirror
Produced, mixed, and mastered by Pete de Boer at World Famous Studios. Artwork by Reza Afshar. Design by Shane McCarthy and Kelly Schilling.
Dreadnought w/ Elder & Ruby the Hatchet 8/3 Brooklyn, NY @ Elsewhere 8/4 Philadelphia, PA @ Underground Arts 8/5 Pittsburgh, PA @ Mr. Smalls Funhouse 8/6 Baltimore, MD @ Metro Gallery 8/7 Charlottesville, VA @ Championship Brewing 8/8 Raleigh, NC @ The Pour House 8/9 Atlanta, GA @ The Earl 8/10 Orlando, FL @ Will’s Pub 8/12 Houston, TX @ White Oak 8/13 Austin, TX @ The Ballroom 8/14 Fort Worth, TX @ Tulips 8/16 Albuquerque, NM @ Sister Bar 8/17 Phoenix, AZ @ The Rebel Lounge 8/18 Las Vegas, NV @ Psycho Swim ** Elder only ** 8/22 Boise, ID @ Neurolux 8/23 Portland, OR @ Dante’s 8/24 Seattle, WA @ Substation 8/26 Oakland, CA @ Starline Social Club 8/27 Los Angeles, CA @ Catch One 8/28 San Diego, CA @ Brick By Brick 8/31 Denver, CO @ Hi-Dive 9/2 St Paul, MN @ Turf Club 9/3 Chicago, IL @ Reggies 9/4 Detroit, MI @ Sanctuary 9/5 Toronto, ON @ Velvet Underground 9/6 Montréal, QC @ Les Foufounes Électriques 9/7 Quebec City, QC @ L’Anti 9/8 Portland, ME @ Geno’s Rock Club 9/9 Brattleboro, VT @ The Stone Church 9/10 Boston, MA @ Middle East / Downstairs
Posted in Questionnaire on August 2nd, 2021 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Yianna Bekris of Vouna
—
How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
I have a project called Vouna that I use as an outlet for my musical creativity. I compose, perform, and record all Vouna’s music, and in the live lineup I sing and play guitar. I’ve been writing little doomy songs on my own for a long time, just for the hell of it. I decided that it would be something I would share with other people after my former bands went on hiatus and that was the start of Vouna as it is today.
Describe your first musical memory.
Driving in the car with my dad while he blasted cassettes that he recorded off the radio in Greece.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
I think all the moshing I did while watching death metal bands in my teen years is the reason I’m still alive today.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
I try to be open-minded when presented with empirical evidence and sound arguments. I do think it’s possible there is more than what can be tested empirically but for me empiricism still reigns supreme, and that has yet to be truly challenged for me. Although sometimes the music that comes to me feels like it’s a transmission from another universe.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
In my case, I create art as a compulsion and it often doesn’t feel like it’s leading anywhere aside from me becoming more competent in enacting an impulse.
How do you define success?
There isn’t really a catch-all definition in my opinion, but I usually feel like something is a success because of some feeling of accomplishment or fulfillment or because some quantifiable metrics were satisfied. I’ve found that the feeling of success can be ephemeral or an illusion.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
I’d prefer not to answer this question, I’ve seen some fucked up shit.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
My next album. After a long time of feeling like I was spending too much effort figuring out how to interface with a computer I was able to establish a flow that felt more natural while recording this album, Atropos. I think having a new comfort in the format and manner in which I create music for Vouna will allow me to be more effective in translating whatever is going on in my head to songs.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
“Art makes life worth living.”
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
You’ll have to forgive me, what the hell day is it? The url says this is day eight, so I guess that’s Wednesday. Fine. That’s as good as any. It’s all just 10 more records to my brain at this point, and that’s fine. I’ve got it all lined up. As of me writing this, I still haven’t heard about my busted-ass laptop that went in for repair last Saturday, and that’s a bummer, but I’m hoping that any minute now the phone is going to show the call coming in and I’ll just keep staring at it until that happens and I’m sure that will be awesome for my already brutalized productivity.
My backup laptop — because yes, I have one and will gladly argue with you that it’s necessary citing this week as an example — is a cheapie Chromebook. The nicest thing I can say about it is it’s red. The meanest thing I can say about it is that I had to change the search button to a caps lock and even that doesn’t respond fast enough to my typing, so I’m constantly capitalizing the wrong letters. If you don’t think that’s infuriating, congratulations on whatever existence has allowed you to live this long without ever needing to use a keyboard. “Hello computer,” and all that.
Enough kvetching. Too much to do.
Quarterly Review #71-80:
Amenra, De Doorn
I’ve made no secret over the last however long of not being the biggest Amenra fan in the universe. Honestly, it’s not even about the Belgian band themseves — live, they’re undeniable — but the plaudits around them are no less suffocating than their crushing riffs at their heaviest moments. Still, as De Doorn marks their first offering through Relapse Records, finds them departing from their Mass numbered series of albums and working in their native Flemish for the first time, and brings Caro Tanghe of Oathbreaker into the songs to offer melodic counterpoint to Colin H. van Eeckhout‘s nothing-if-not-identifiable screams, the invitations to get on board are manifold. This is a band with rules. They have set their own rules, and even in pushing outside them as they do here, much of their ideology and sonic persona is maintained. Part of that identity is being forward thinking, and that surfaces on De Doorn in parts ambient and quiet, but there’s always a part of me that feels like Amenra are playing it safe, even as they’re working within parameters they’ve helped define for a generation of European post-metal working directly in their wake. The post-apocalyptic breadth they harness in these tracks will only continue to win them converts. Maybe I’ll be one of them. That would be fun. It’s nice to belong, you know?
Liquid Sound Company, Psychoactive Songs for the Psoul
A quarter-century after their founding, Arlington, Texas, heavy psych rockers Liquid Sound Company still burn and melt along the lysergic path of classic ’60s acid rock, beefier in tone but no less purposeful in their drift on Psychoactive Songs for the Psoul. They’re turning into custard on “Blacklight Corridor” and they can tell you don’t understand on “Who Put All of Those Things in Your Hair?,” and all the while their psych rock digs deeper into the cosmic pulse, founding guitarist John Perez (also Solitude Aeturnus) unable to resist bringing a bit of shred to “And to Your Left… Neptune” — unless that’s Mark Cook‘s warr guitar — even as “Mahayuga” answers back to the Middle Eastern inflection of “Blacklight Corridor” earlier on. Capping with the mellow jam “Laila Was Here,” Psychoactive Songs for the Psoul is a loving paean to the resonant energies of expanded minds and flowing effects, but “Cosmic Liquid Love” is still a heavy rollout, and even the shimmering “I Feel You” is informed by that underlying sense of heft. Nonetheless, it’s an acid invitation worth the RSVP.
Flying snakes, crawling birds, two tracks each over 17 minutes long, the first Iceburn release in 20 years is an all-in affair from the outset. As someone coming to the band via Gentry Densley‘s work in Eagle Twin, there are recognizable elements in tone, themes and vocals, but with fellow founders Joseph “Chubba” Smith on drums and James Holder on guitar, as well as bassist Cache Tolman (who’s Johnny Comelately since he originally joined in 1991, I guess), the atmosphere conjured by the four-piece is consuming and spacious in its own way, and their willingness to go where the song guides them on side A’s “Healing the Ouroboros,” right up to the long-fading drone end after so much lumbering skronk and incantations before, and side B’s “Dahlia Rides the Firebird,” with its pervasive soloing, gallop and veer into earth-as-cosmos terradelia, the return of Iceburn — if in fact that’s what this is — makes its own ceremony across Asclepius, sounding newly inspired rather than like a rehash.
As regards ambition, Gods & Punks‘ fourth LP, The Sounds of the Universe, wants for nothing. The Rio De Janeiro heavy psych rockers herein wrap what they’ve dubbed their ‘Voyager’ series, culminating the work they’ve done since their first EP — album opener “Eye in the Sky” is a remake — while tying together the progressive, heavy and cosmic aspects of their sound in a single collection of songs. In context, it’s a fair amount to take in, but a track like “Black Apples” has a riffy standout appeal regardless of its place in the band’s canon, and whether it’s the classic punch of “The TUSK” or the suitably patient expansion of “Universe,” the five-piece don’t neglect songwriting for narrative purpose. That is to say, whether or not you’ve heard 2019’s And the Celestial Ascension (discussed here) or any of their other prior material, you’re still likely to be pulled in by “Gravity” and “Dimensionaut” and the rest of what surrounds. The only question is where do they go from here? What’s outside the universe?
Released (appropriately) by Profound Lore, Vouna‘s second full-length Atropos is a work of marked depth and unforced grandeur. After nine-minute opener “Highest Mountain” establishes to emotional/aural tone, Atropos is comprised mostly of three extended pieces in “Vanish” (15:34), “Grey Sky” (14:08) and closer “What Once Was” (15:11) with the two-minute “What Once Was (Reprise)” leading into the final duo. “Vanish” finds Vouna — aka Olympia, Washington-based Yianna Bekris — bringing in textures of harp and violin to answer the lap steel and harp on “Highest Mountain,” and features a harsh guest vocal from Wolves in the Throne Room‘s Nathan Weaver, but it’s in the consuming wash at the finish of “Grey Sky” and in the melodic vocal layers cutting through as the first half of “What Once Was” culminates ahead of the break into mournful doom and synth that Vouna most shines, bridging styles in a way so organic as to be utterly consuming and keeping resonance as the most sought target, right unto the piano line that tops the last crescend, answering back the very beginning of “Highest Mountain.” Not a record that comes along every day.
One gets the sense in listening that for Mikael Monks, the Burning Saviours founder working under the moniker of Heathen Rites for the first time, the idea of Heritage for which the album is titled is as much about doom itself as the Scandinavian folk elements that surface in “Gleipner” or in the brief, bird-song and mountain-echo-laced finish “Kulning,” not to mention the Judas Priest-style triumphalism of the penultimate “The Sons of the North” just before. Classic doom is writ large across Heritage, from the bassline of “Autumn” tapping into “Heaven and Hell” to the flowing culmination of “Midnight Sun” and the soaring guitar apex in “Here Comes the Night.” In the US, many of these ideas of “northern” heritage, runes, or even heathenism have been coopted as expressions of white supremacy. It’s worth remembering that for some people it’s actually culture. Monks pairs that with his chosen culture — i.e. doom — in intriguing ways here that one hopes he’ll continue to explore.
Some things in life you just have to accept that you’re never going to fully understand. The mostly-solo-project Unimother 27 from Italy’s Piero Ranalli is one of those things. Ranalli has been riding his own wavelength in krautrock and classic progressive stylizations mixed with psychedelic freakout weirdness going on 15 years now, experimenting all the while, and you don’t have to fully comprehend the hey-man-is-this-jazz bass bouncing under “L’incontro tra Phallos e Mater Coelestis” to just roll with it, so just roll with it and know that wherever you’re heading, there’s a plan at work, even if the plan is to not have a plan. Mr. Fist‘s drums tether the synth and drifting initial guitar of “Abraxas…il Dio Difficile da Conoscere” and serve a function as much necessary as grooving, but one way or the other, you’re headed to “Systema Munditotius,” where forward and backward are the same thing and the only trajectory discernible is “out there.” So go. Just go. You won’t regret it.
Not, not, not a coincidence that Massachusetts four-piece Oxblood Forge — vocalist Ken Mackay, guitarist Robb Lioy, bassist Greg Dellaria and drummer/keyboardist Erik Fraünfeltër — include an Angel Witch cover on their third long-player, Decimator, as even before they get around to the penultimate “Sorcerers,” the NWOBHM is a defining influence throughout the proceedings, be it the “hey hey hey!” chanting of “Mortal Salience” or the death riders owning the night on opener “Into the Abyss” or the sheer Maidenry met with doom tinge on “Screams From Silence.” Mackay‘s voice, high in the mix, adds a tinge of grit, but Decimator isn’t trying to get one over on anyone. This blue collar worship for classic metal presented in a manner that could only be as full-on as it is for it to work at all. No irony, no khakis, no bullshit.
They keep this up, they’re going to have a real band on their hands. Desert Storm/The Grand Mal bandmates and twin brothers Ryan Cole (guitar/bass) and Elliot Cole (drums) began Wall as a largely-instrumental quarantine project in 2020, issuing a self-titled EP (review here) on APF Records. Vol. 2 follows on the quick with five more cuts of unbridled groove, including a take on Karma to Burn‘s “Nineteen” that, if it needs to be said, serves as homage to Will Mecum, who passed away earlier this year. That song fits right in with a cruncher like “Avalanche” or “Speed Freak,” or even “The Tusk,” which also boasts a bit of layered guitar harmonies, feeling out new ground there and in the acousti-handclap-blues of “Falling From the Edge of Nowhere.” The fact that Wall have live dates booked — alongside The Grand Mal, no less — speaks further to their real-bandness, but Vol. 2 hardly leaves any doubt as it is.
The second self-recorded outing from Pennsylvania trio Boozewa, Deb, offers two songs to follow-up on Feb. 2021’s First Contact (review here) demo, keeping an abidingly raw, we-did-this-at-home feel — this time they sent the results to Tad Doyle for mastering — while pushing their sound demonstrably forward with “Deb” bringing bassist Jessica Baker to the fore vocally alongside drummer Mike Cummings. Guitarist Rylan Caspar contributes in that regard as well, and the results are admirably grunge-coated heavy rock and roll that let enough clarity through to establish a hook, while the shorter “Now. Stop.” edges toward a bit more lumber in its groove, at least until they punk it out with some shouts at the finish. Splitting hairs? You betcha. Maybe they’re just writing songs. The results are there waiting to be dug either way.
Posted in Whathaveyou on May 19th, 2021 by JJ Koczan
Some records, they come your way, you put on a track, you skim through, blah blah blah, you check it out, you go, “okay, I get it,” and you move on, either to “this is cool” or “nah.” Vouna‘s Atropos is the other kind of record, which is the kind you put on, maybe with the intention of skimming through, and then you leave it on and just let it go because frickin’ awesome and demands nothing less than full attention even when, say, you’re supposed to be listening to something else to review it at just that particular moment. Sorry, other record(s), I’ve got someplace to be.
That place is “Highest Mountain,” as it happens, the nine-minute lead single from Atropos and one of the five songs on what’ll be the second Vouna long-player when Profound Lore does the honors this July 16. I’ll hope to have more on it before then, but for now I guess I should probably finish listening to it first. Or maybe I shouldn’t, because it’s kind of making the rest of the planet feel lightweight in comparison right now. Just a little further…
Info from the PR wire:
VOUNA ANNOUNCE NEW FULL-LENGTH, DROP POWERFUL SINGLE
Olympia, WA’s VOUNA – featuring multi-instrumentalist and composer Yianna Bekris – has announced a new full-length album titled, Atropos, to be released on July 16, 2021 via Profound Lore Records. Bekris unveils a towering and singular doom metal wonder in a unique visioning reminiscent of My Dying Bride, Sub Rosa, Paradise Lost, and Evoken. Upon the thick foundation of doom, multiple musical textures intertwine into her sound: atmospheric black metal, dungeon synth, dark-wave, film scores, and Rebetiko. It is through these woven sonic tapestries that Bekris creates vivid atmospheres expressing the myriad emotions surrounding death, mourning, and suicidal ideation. Atropos, named for the Greek fate who cut the thread of life thus determining the final fate for mortals, not only conveys the inevitability of death, but also explores its contrasting and dynamic nature through immersive compositions representing despair, loneliness, anxiety, peace, and dignity.
Today, VOUNA has released the first single off of Atropos titled, “Highest Mountain”. The powerful track displays 9+ minutes of soaring and crushing doom, black metal, goth, and a triumphant resolve.
About the track, Bekris comments: “This song is about someone who is dying and wants to be buried at the peak of the highest mountain as their final wish. I have always been fascinated with mountains, and I even named this project after them (Vouna meaning mountains in Greek), and it seems like such an honor to be buried at the top of a tall mountain. It isn’t necessarily about a specific mountain that exists.”
“Highest Mountain” is streaming now.
Along with the full-length announcement, the release of “Highest Mountain”, track listing, album artwork by Amjad Faur, Bekris has also revealed guest appearances on the forthcoming full-length, including an appearance from Wolves In The Throne Room’s Nathan Weaver. Digital pre-order for Atropos is available now via Profound Lore Records.
Track listing: 1. Highest Mountain 2. Vanish 3. What Once Was Reprise 4. Grey Sky 5. What Once Was
Album Details: Recorded at the Owl Lodge in 2020 by Yianna Bekris with assistance from Nathan Weaver and Aaron Weaver. Drum recording: Ethan Camp with assistance from Alex Doherty. Mixing by Greg Chandler at Priory Recording Studios. Mastering by Dan Lowndes at Resonance Sound Studio.
Guests: Entrail (Entrail): violin on “Vanish” Caitlin Fate (Organelle, Vouna): electric lap steel on “Highest Mountain” Autumn Kassel (former Vouna synth player): synth interlude on “What Once Was” Asia Kindred Moore (Sangre de Muerdago, Solace): harp on “Highest Mountain” and distorted harp on “Vanish” Nathan Weaver (Wolves in the Throne Room): additional vocals on “Vanish”
Album Artwork by: Amjad Faur Promotional Photo by: Dreaming God
Posted in Reviews on October 8th, 2020 by JJ Koczan
We’ve reached the portion of the Quarterly Review wherein I would no longer know what day it is if I didn’t have my notes to help me keep track. I suppose it doesn’t matter — the day, that is — since it’s 10 records either way, but I’d hate to review the same albums two days in a row or something. Though, come to think of it, that might be a fun experiment sometime.
Not today. Today is another fresh batch of 10 on the way to 60 by next Monday. We’ll get there. Always do. And if you’re wondering, today’s Thursday. At least that’s what I have in my notes.
Quarterly Review #31-40:
Bell Witch & Aerial Ruin, Stygian Bough Vol. I
The collaborative effort Bell Witch & Aerial Ruin and their 64-minute full-length, Stygian Bough Vol. I — the intention toward future output together hinted at in the title already confirmed by the group(s) — is a direct extension of what Aerial Ruin, aka Erik Moggridge, brought to the last Bell Witch album, 2017’s Mirror Reaper (review here), in terms of complementing the crushing, emotionally resonant death-doom of the Washington duo with morose folk vocal melody. Stygian Bough Vol. I is distinguished by having been written by the two-plus-one-equals-three-piece as a group, and accordingly, it more fluidly weaves Moggridge‘s contributions into those of Bell Witch‘s Dylan Desmond and Jesse Shreibman, resulting in an approach like if Patrick Walker from Warning had joined Thergothon. It’s prevailing spirit is deep melancholy in longer pieces like “The Bastard Wind” and “The Unbodied Air,” both over 19 minutes, while it might be in “Heaven Torn Low I (The Passage)” and “Heaven Torn Low II (The Toll)” that the trio most effectively bring their intent to life. Either way, if you’re in, be ready to go all the way in, but know that it’s well worth doing so.
Traditional doom with flourish both of noise and NWOBHM guitars — that turn in the second half of opener “Transformation” is like a dogwhistle for Iron Maiden fans — I hear Cruthu‘s second album, Athrú Crutha, and all I can think of are label recommendations. The Michigan outfit’s 2017 debut, The Angle of Eternity (review here), was eventually issued on The Church Within, and that’d certainly work, but also Ván Records, Shadow Kingdom, and even Cruz Del Sur seem like fitting potential homes for the righteousness on display across the vinyl-ready six-song/39-minute outing, frontman Ryan Evans commanding in presence over the reverb-loaded classic-style riffs of guitarist Dan McCormick and the accompanying gallop in Matt Fry‘s drums given heft by Derek Kasperlik‘s bass. Like the opener, “Necromancy” and “Dimensional Collide” move at a good clip, but side B’s “The Outsider” and closer “Crown of Horns” slow things down following the surprisingly rough-edged “Beyond the Pale.” One way or the other, it’s all doomed and so are we.
Whereas 2017’s Berdreyminn (review here) existed in the shadow of 2014’s Ótta (review here), Endless Twilight of Codependent Love brings Iceland’s Sólstafir to a new place in terms of their longer-term progression. It is their first album with an English title since 2005’s Masterpiece of Bitterness, and though they’ve had English-language songs since then, the mellow “Her Fall From Grace” is obviously intended to be a standout here, and it is. On the nine-song/62-minute course of the album, however, it is one impression of many, and in the raging “Dionysus” and post-blackened “Drýsill,” 10-minute opener and longest track (immediate points) “Akkeri,” richly atmospheric “Rökkur,” goth-lounging “Or” and worthy finale “Úlfur,” Sólstafir remind of the richly individual nature of their approach. The language swaps could be reaching out to a broader, non-Icelandic-speaking audience. If so, it’s only in the interest of that audience to take note if they haven’t already.
Curse is the first long-player from Portland, Oregon’s ILS, and it’s a rager in the PNW noise tradition, with uptempo, gonna-throw-a-punch-and-then-apologize riffs and basslines and swaps between semi-spoken shouts and vicious screams from Tom Glose (ex-Black Elk) that are precisely as jarring as they’re meant to be. I don’t think Curse is anyone’s first time at the dance — Glose, guitarist Nate Abner, bassist Adam Pike or drummer Tim Steiner — but it only benefits across its sans-bullshit 28-minute run by knowing what it wants to do. Its longest material, like the title-track or “Don’t Hurt Me,” which follows, or closer “For the Shame I Bring,” rests on either side of three and a half minutes, but some of the most brutal impressions are made in cuts like “It’s Not Lard but it’s a Cyst” or leadoff “Bad Parts,” which have even less time to waste but are no less consuming, particularly at high volume. The kind of record for when you want to assault yourself. And hey, that happens.
Apart from the consciously-titled three-minute noiseblaster finale “Antithesis” that’s clearly intended to contrast with what comes before it, Bismut‘s second LP for Lay Bare, Retrocausality, is made up of five extended instrumental pieces the shortest of which is just under 13 minutes long. The Nijmegen-based trio — guitarist Nik Linders, bassist Huibert der Weduwen, drummer Peter Dragt — build these semi-improvisational pieces on the foundation they set with 2018’s Schwerpunkt (review here), and their explorations through heavy rock, metal and psychedelia feel all the more cohesive as a song like “Vergangenheit” is nonetheless able to blindside with the heavy riff toward which it’s been moving for its entire first half. At 71 minutes total, it’s a purposefully unmanageable runtime, but as “Predvídanie” imagines a psych-thrash and “Oscuramento” drones to its crashing finish, Bismut seem to be working on their own temporal accord anyhow. For those stuck on linear time, that means repeat listens may be necessary to fully digest, but that’s nothing to complain about either.
UK instrumentalists Cracked Machine have worked relatively quickly over the course of their now-three albums to bring a sense of their own perspective to the tropes of heavy psychedelic rock. Alongside the warmth of tone in the guitar and bass, feeling drawn from the My Sleeping Karma/Colour Haze pastiche of progressive meditations, there is a coinciding edge of English heavy rock and roll that one can hear not so much in the drift of “Temple of Zaum” as in the push of “Black Square Icon,” which follows, as well as the subtle impatience of the drums on “October Dawn.” “Move 37,” on the other hand, is willfully speedier and more upbeat than much of what surrounds, but though opener/longest track (immediate points) “Cold Iron Light” hits 7:26, nothing on Gates of Keras sticks around long enough to overstay its welcome, and even in their deepest contemplations, the feeling of motion carries them and the listener effectively through the album’s span. They sound like a band realizing what they want to do with all the potential they’ve built up.
From cinematic paranoia to consuming and ultra-slow rollout of massive tonality, the debut offering from Megadrone — the one-man outfit of former Bevar Sea vocalist Ganesh Krishnaswamy — stretches across 53 minutes of unmitigated sonic consumption. If nothing else, Krishnaswamy chose the right moniker for the project. The Bandcamp version is spread across two parts — “Transmission A” (21:45) and “Transmission B” (32:09) — and any vinyl release would require significant editing as well, but the version I have is one huge, extended track, and that feels like exactly how Transmissions From the Jovian Antennae was composed and is supposed to be heard. Its mind-numbing repetitions lead the listener on a subtle forward march — there are drums back in that morass somewhere, I know it — and the piece follows an arc that begins relatively quiet, swells in its midsection and gradually recedes again over its final 10 minutes or so. It goes without saying that a 53-minute work of experimentalist drone crushscaping isn’t going to be for the faint of heart. Bold favors bold.
Sax-laced noise rock psychedelic freakouts, blown-out drums and shouts and drones, cacophonous stomp and chaotic sprawl, and a finale that holds back its payoff so long it feels cruel, KLÄMP‘s second album, Hate You, arrives less than a year after their self-titled debut, and perhaps there’s some clue as to why in the sheer mania of their execution. Hate You launches with the angularity of its 1:47 title-track and rolls out a nodding groove on top of that, but it’s movement from one part to another, one piece to another, is frenetic, regardless of the actual tempo, and the songs just sound like they were recorded to be played loud. Second cut “Arise” is the longest at 7:35 and it plays back and forth between two main parts before seeming to explode at the end, and by the time that’s done, you’re pretty much KLÄMPed into place waiting to see where the Utrecht trio go next. Oblivion wash on “An Orb,” the drum-led start-stops of “Big Bad Heart,” psych-smash “TJ” and that awaited end in “No Nerves” later, I’m not sure I have any better idea where that might be. That’s also what makes it work.
Preceded by two singles, Heni is the debut EP from Rio de Janeiro psychedelic tonal worshipers Mábura, and its three component tracks, “Anhangá,” “III/IV” and “Bong of God” are intended to portray a lysergic experience through their according ambience and the sheer depth of the riffs they bring. “Anhangá” has vocals following the extended feedback and drone opening of its first half, but they unfold as a part of the general ambience, along with the drums that arrive late, are maybe sampler/programmed, and finish by leading directly into the crash/fuzz launch of “III/IV,” which just before it hits the two-minute mark unfurls into a watershed of effects and nod, crashing and stomping all the while until everything drops out but the bass only to return a short time later with the Riff in tow. Rumbling into a quick fade brings about the toking intro of “Bong of God,” which unfolds accordingly into a riff-led noisefest that makes its point seemingly without saying a word. I wouldn’t call it groundbreaking, but it’s a first EP. What it shows is that Mábura have some significant presence of tone and purpose. Don’t be surprised when someone picks them up for a release.
It’s still possible to hear some of Astral Sleep‘s death-doom roots in their third album, Astral Doom Musick, but the truth is they’ve become a more expansive unit than that (relatively) simple classification than describe. They’re doom, to be sure, but there are progressive, psychedelic and even traditional doom elements at work across the record’s four-song/43-minute push, with a sense of conceptual composition coming through in “Vril” and “Inegration” in the first half of the proceedings while the nine-and-a-half-minute “Schwerbelastungskörper” pushes into the darkest reaches and closer “Aurinko ja Kuu” harnesses a swirling progressive spread that’s dramatic unto its last outward procession and suitably large-sound in its production and tone. For a band who took eight years to issue a follow-up to their last full-length, Astral Sleep certainly have plenty to offer in aesthetic and craft. If it took them so long to put this record together, their time wasn’t wasted, but it’s hard to listen and not wonder where their next step might take them.
