Visalia, California, heavy rock traditionalists Westing release their new album, Future, on Feb. 24 through RidingEasy Records. The fourth album from the band overall, it’s also the first since they changed their name in 2021 from Slow Season, adopting the moniker from their till-now-most-recent LP, Westing (review here), which was released in 2016, and their first since welcoming All Them Witches guitarist Ben McLeod to the band with founding members guitarist/vocalist Daniel Story Rice, bassist Hayden Doyel and drummer Cody Tarbell, who also recorded the album and has worked with Cloud Catcher and others. Despite the rebrand, Future‘s nine-song/40-minute run remains loyal to their classically-inspired ethic, with a sound that’s growth malleable enough to position Tarbell‘s drums as the John Bonham stomp beneath opener “Back in the Twenties” as Future struts out of the gate, or turn twang into pastoral sentimentalism in the guitars of “Artemisia Coming Down.”

A tour de force for Rice vocally, from the soul-shouts in the leadoff to the attitude-croon of “Nothing New,” the hilarious-even-if-you’re-not-in-on-the-joke (and I’m not, so I’d know) chorus of, “There ain’t no Larry here,” in side B’s “Stanley Wu” and FM-radio-ready falsetto hook that opens wide in capping shuffle rocker “Coming Back to Me,” it is an album of mature performance and craft throughout — something that feels like it could only be made by a band who know who they are as artists and a group — but infectious in its energy just the same, with a sing-along call and response in centerpiece “Big Trouble (In the City of Love)” that, for as based around classic rocking ideals as it is, is so much more about right now than 50 years ago.

Tarbell‘s production, which is crisp, modern, clear and organic, helps assure that while Future is most certainly in conversation with the past and lyrics like those of “Back in the Twenties” place it squarely in the present — “Another lost generation/Here come the good times/Here come the fascists…” — its sound is nonetheless forward-looking in its realization of the material. It’s not futurist, or sci-fi, or cloyingly trying to be something other than it is for artsy kudos. In the spirit of, say, a band dropping an established moniker after about a decade and moving ahead with a new one, Future is unhindered by its classic aspects.

One would be hard-pressed to think of another American band working at Westing‘s level in the stylistic niche they are. In Europe, the names come easier, with the likes of Graveyard, Kadavar, and hosts of others, but especially on this record, the band distinguish themselves in method and dynamic from the underground pack on either continent. And more than the sound of Future, it’s the songs. After “Back in the Twenties” gives over to the fuzzier but likewise memorable rollout of “Nothing New,” they turn to the atmospheric “Lost Riders Intro,” a two-minute stretch of ambient guitar and drone ahead of “Lost Riders” itself, the central riff there seeming to call out Journey and Thin Lizzy via The Lord Weird Slough Feg (the latter is a stretch, but it’s there) with a moodier stateliness.

The party picks up as “Big Trouble (In the City of Love)” revives the Zeppelin thread to finish out side A — and the aforementioned “Stanley Wu” will make you believe dancing days are here again in short order — but though “Lost Riders” is shorter than “Nothing New,” its dual guitar leads and methodical delivery are neither as upbeat as much of what surrounds nor lost in a brooding mire, establishing a kind of middle ground that pushes outward the expectations for the rest of Future to come, so that when they hit into “Artemisia Coming Down” with its mellow, atmospheric beginning, graceful melody and highlight finishing solo, there’s precedent for the going.

Leading side B, “Artemisia Coming Down” — on the vinyl, “Lost Riders Intro” is integrated into “Lost Riders” as well, so it breaks down to four cuts on each side, eight total; of course it matters less when you’re listening to the album straight through — is another classic turn that Westing make theirs, fleshing out the mood of “Lost Riders” while shifting toward a direction of its own, smoothly shifting into the acoustic-led “Silent Shout,” which makes its title into a kind of single-breath repetition, almost an afterthought worked into its verse lines, so that by the last time it comes around near the song’s finish, it’s expected and welcome, a particularly floaty ’70s dreaminess that also serves to set up the arena-style chorus of “Coming Back to Me,” after the uptick in physical movement that “Stanley Wu” brings. An homage to a local bartender of the same name, its lyrics are less generally relatable, perhaps, than some of the material here, but it’s easy to get wrapped up in the title character’s persona as channeled through the band’s. To put it another way, they bring you into the place, the bar, the character, the story.

This is true of Future across its entire span, and it comes back to the quality of songwriting at work. Many aspects of Westing‘s sound are pointedly not revolutionary. They are classic heavy rockers playing to that ideal, less now than when Slow Season released 2014’s Mountains (review here), perhaps, but they know where their roots lie nonetheless. And as the already noted shuffle of “Coming Back to Me” lets its tension go for that chorus about being free, they make you believe it. Not everybody can do that, in this microgenre or any other, let alone turn the song back around to its boogie and proceed onward like nothing ever happened, until the next chorus arrives. And not for want of trying.

To call it graceful would maybe undercut some of the edges purposefully left rougher — like how the kick drum in “Back in the Twenties” is supposed to thud like that, and the back and forth of “more” and “never enough” in “Big Trouble (In the City of Love),” with “more” throaty and held out so that it’s “moh-ore” with Rice answering himself before McLeod rips out neither the first nor the last righteous solo — but it is lucid and tasteful. Westing may be a new incarnation of what Slow Season was, but part of that is the clear benefit of that band’s experience and chemistry that’s on display throughout these tracks, even with the change in personnel involved in making the record. It moves you like the best of rock and roll can, makes you remember why you fell in love with groove in the first place, and whether it’s up or down at a given moment, or raucous or subdued, it’s got its heart right on its sleeve and craft that’s in a class of its own. One would be a fool to ask more of them than they give here.

The video for “Back in the Twenties” premieres below, followed by the band’s bio… which I wrote. That’s right. It’s a bio I wrote, and I’m posting it under the review of the album, which I also wrote (just now, in fact). In the interest of full disclosure, I was compensated for writing the bio (it’s why I put the bio in blue, to distinguish that promotional content from this editorial content), and in the interest of context, I’ll point you back to that 2014 review to stand for how long I’ve been writing about the band before I got a Paypal kick to do it for the text below. I don’t know if it matters, but there you go.

Enjoy:

Westing, “Back in the Twenties” video premiere

“We’ve never been averse to a self-imposed challenge, really.” – Daniel Story Rice, Westing

Late in 2021, Slow Season announced they’d become Westing, and that Ben McLeod (also of Nashville’s All Them Witches) was now in the four-piece on lead guitar alongside guitarist, vocalist and keyboardist Daniel Story Rice, bassist Hayden Doyel and drummer/recording engineer Cody Tarbell. Their new LP (fourth overall for RidingEasy), Future, is not coincidentally titled.

Says Rice, “We wanted to hit the reset button on some things and so we included a new band name to that list. Fresh start, for the psychological effect of it. We first met Ben in 2014 opening for All Them Witches in San Diego, and we did that again in 2016 and he and Cody corresponded about tape machines, music production, and other similar nerd stuff. We started swapping a few ideas early in 2021 and then flew him out for four days in August 2021. We got Future mostly down in that short span and did some remote stuff for overdubs, but nothing major. Obviously, our creative processes jelled pretty well to allow for such an efficiently productive session.”

So the story of Westing, and of Future, is about change, but the music makes itself so immediately familiar, it’s so welcoming, that it hardly matters. For about 10 years, the Visalia, California, outfit wandered the earth representing a new generational interpretation of classic heavy rock. The tones, warm. The melodies, sweet. The boogie, infectious. They went to ground after supporting their 2016 self-titled third album, and clearly it was time for something different.

Listening to Future opener “Back in the Twenties,” the message comes through clear (and loud) that however much Westing’s foundations might be in ‘70s styles, the moment that matters is now. It’s the future we’re living in, not the future that was. The big Zeppelin vibes at the outset and on “Big Trouble (In the City of Love)” and the local-bartender remembrance “Stanley Wu,” the dare-to-sound-like-Rocka-Rolla “Lost Riders” and the softshoe-ready shuffle of “Coming Back to Me” that leads into the payoff solo for the entire record, on and on; these pieces feed into an entirety that’s somehow loyal to homage while embodying a vitality that can only live up to the title they’ve given it.

“To me, ‘future’ is a word that embodies both hope and dread,” explains Rice, “and the future seems to be coming at us pretty quick these days. In some ways, it really feels like I am living in “the future,” as if I time traveled here and don’t really belong. That feeling pervades this band’s ethos in some ways. I thought Instagram was a steep climb until I met TikTok.”

Is Future the future? Hell, we should be so lucky. What Westing manifest in these songs is schooled in the rock of yore and theirs purely, and in that, Future looks forward with the benefit of the lessons learned across three prior full-lengths (and the accompanying tours) while offering the kind of freshness that comes with a debut. No, they’re not the same kids who released Mountains in 2014, and the tradeoff is being able to convey maturity, evolving creativity and stage-born dynamic on Future without sacrificing the spirit and passion that has underscored their work all along. – Words by JJ Koczan

Westing on Facebook

Westing on Instagram

Westing on YouTube

Westing on Bandcamp

RidingEasy Records on Facebook

RidingEasy Records on Instagram

RidingEasy Records on Bandcamp

RidingEasy Records website

There are a bunch of ticket links here, which, hey, if you happen to be in one of cities listed below and up for hitting the gig, might be helpful. I don’t know. It doesn’t make the post look any neater — and you know I’m all about aesthetics and visual presentation; hence the by-now-retro theme of this site — but I left them there just in case. If you click one and go to the show, fair enough.

Firebreather and The Well, aside from being labelmates on RidingEasy Records and under the general umbrella of ‘heavy music’, don’t have a ton in common sound-wise, and I think that’s a good thing. They’ll complement each other well, with the bombast of the former and the semi-cultish weirdo-heavy rawness of the latter, and while Firebreather‘s Dwell in the Fog (review here) will have been out for more than a year by the time this run starts, it’s still their first time supporting it in the States. It doesn’t seem unreasonable to expect some new material live from The Well, meanwhile, since their most recent album, Death and Consolation (review here), came out in 2019.

In any case, it’s a solid run little less than a month, and I’m curious to see where that TBA date puts them:

PREPARE THE FIRE !!! THE WELL x FIREBREATHER FULL US TOUR THIS SPRING!!

Tue 3/28 – San Diego
Wed 3/29 – LA
Thu 3/30 – Oakland
Fri 3/31 – Portland
Sat 4/1 – Seattle
Mon 4/3 – Denver
Tue 4/4 – Omaha
Wed 4/5 – Chicago
Thu 4/6 – Detroit
Fri 4/7 – Buffalo
Sat 4/8 – Providence
Mon 4/10 – TBA
Tue 4/11 – Brooklyn
Wed 4/12 – Columbus
Thu 4/13 – Louisville
Fri 4/14 – Memphis
Sat 4/15 – New Orleans
Sun 4/16 – Houston
Mon 4/17 – TBA
Tue 4/18 – Austin
Wed 4/19 – Dallas
Thu 4/20 – El Paso (Firebreather only)
Fri 4/21 – Albuquerque (Firebreather only)
Sat 4/22 – Phoenix (Firebreather only)

——————–
This list of ticket links will be updated:

Scottsdale http://bit.ly/thewellpub
San Diego https://addmi.com/e/-NLwmHecNdzlxlyqKhGW
NYC https://link.dice.fm/Xd95d40f17a7
Detroit https://www.ticketweb.com/event/the-well-firebreather-the-sanctuary-detroit-tickets/12852365?pl=sanctuary
Seatlle https://wl.seetickets.us/event/The-WellFirebreather/528015?afflky=ElCorazon
Buffalo https://aftr.dk/3iJ9HVY
Columbus https://www.eventbrite.com/e/518740816747
Houston https://wl.seetickets.us/event/The-Well-Firebreather/528520?afflky=WhiteOakMusicHall
Memphis https://wl.seetickets.us/event/The-Well-with-Firebreather-at-Growlers-Memphis-TN/528261?afflky=Growlers
Portland https://www.treetix.com/198475/soundcontrol

http://www.facebook.com/thewellband
https://www.instagram.com/thewellband/
http://thewellaustin.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/firebreathergbg/
https://www.instagram.com/firebreathergbg/
https://firebreatherdoom.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/ridingeasyrecords/
https://www.instagram.com/easyriderrecord/
http://www.ridingeasyrecs.com/

The Well, Death and Consolation (2019)

Firebreather, Dwell in the Fog (2022)

To my fellow East Coasters, let’s collectively decide not to fuck this one up, hmm? I know February is cold and everyone has shit to do in their life, going out costs money that no one seems to have anymore, on and on. I know all the excuses. I’ve lived every single one of them. But the fact is this is Early Moods‘ first headlining run that hits the Eastern Seaboard — they signed with Nanotear Booking last year following, among other things, a stellar performance at Psycho Las Vegas (review here) — and it’s something you don’t want to miss. These guys are young, hungry, on-point in terms of sound and a genuine presence on stage. If they, and we as the audience, all play our cards right, they could become something really special for doom in the next few years.

Or we could stay home and they could get no support, flame out, be bitter, suck or break up, and not realize their potential to vanguard a new generation’s take on classic doom metal. I’m not saying it’s all on your shoulders personally. I’m saying they’re going for it. They’re putting their work in starting at half-past already, and if you believe in heavy music, the underground, any of it, it’s your responsibility to support a young band giving touring life a real shot, especially as they do it for the first time. And especially since they’re good.

It’s not my job to try to sell tickets for anybody, but Early Moods are the kind of band who can make you believe. Even if you’ve forgotten what that feels like.

Here are the dates:

EARLY MOODS – *ANNOUNCEMENT*

Catch us out on the road next month in support of our new record. Tickets are are on sale now. Which date will we see you at ?

2/16 – San Diego, CA- Brick By Brick
2/17 – Tucson, AZ – Groundworks
2/18 – Scottsdale, AZ- Yucca Tap
2/19 – Albuquerque, NM – Sisters
2/21 – Austin, TX- Lost Well
2/22 – Shreveport, LA – Shreve Station
2/23 – Atlanta, GA – Boggs
2/24 – Charlotte, NC – Snug Harbor
2/25 – Baltimore , MD – Holy Frijoles
2/26 – Philadelphia, PA – Kung FunNecktie
2/27 – Brooklyn, NY – Saint Vitus
2/28 – Youngstown, OH – Westside Bowl
3/01 – Detroit, MI – Sanctuary
3/02 – Chicago, IL – Live Wire
3/03 – Lawrence, KS – Replay Lounge
3/04 – Denver, CO – Hi-Dive
3/05 – SLC, UT – Urban Lounge
3/07 – Seattle, WA – Substation
3/08 – Portland, OR – High Water Mark
3/09 – Sacramento, Ca – Cafe Colonial
3/10 – Oakland, CA – Eli’s
3/11 – Palmdale, Ca – Transplants

#earlymoods
#ustour2023

https://www.instagram.com/early_moods
https://www.facebook.com/earlymoods/
https://earlymoods.bandcamp.com/releases

https://www.instagram.com/easyriderrecord/
https://www.facebook.com/ridingeasyrecords/
http://www.ridingeasyrecords.com/

Early Moods, Early Moods (2022)

Throughout their relatively quick five-year run Aleph Null were only ever Philip on guitar/vocals, Carsten on bass and Jens on drums. The band was founded circa 2012 in Düsseldorf and Nocturnal was their lone full-length, self-produced and self-released with a pickup soon after by RidingEasy Records for a 2LP issue. By then, the German three-piece had already garnered a reputation for choice riffs and plus-sized tonality for which the seven-song/42-minute offering would end up serving as something of a culmination, having released their first EP, Dale, in 2012, and a second, Belladonna, in 2013. And though they’d follow Nocturnal with the not-unsubstantial four-songer Endtime Sisters in 2016 as their final release, it’s the album itself that seems to most encapsulate who they were as a band, where they were coming from and where they were going before they decided, ultimately, not to go.

It was, as I recall, a well-hyped record. The social media word-of-mouth among the international underground had taken hold by the time 2014 came around, and an eager audience surfing Bandcamp tags and other recommendations found Aleph Null with a sound to devour, able to crush as with opener “Roman Nails” and the slowest lurches of 11-minute finale “Nocturnal Part II,” but in all the ‘cool riffs bruh’ discussion of Nocturnal I ever saw — and granted, I don’t read reviews and this was eight years ago — I don’t remember much mention of the band’s ability to pivot from their sludge-rocking foundation into other styles. A record that goes from reinventing the verse of “21st Century Schizoid Man” to Sabbath-boogie-circa-’75 on centerpiece “Black Winged Cherub,” never mind the sleek, Graveyardian groove of “Muzzle of a Sleeping God,” topped off with cowbell as it is, or the vocal layering in second track “Backward Spoken Rhymes” adding melodic breadth to the feedback-laden rolling plod of the leadoff’s ending — there’s a lot more going on with Nocturnal than just the manner in which it riffs, though that too is a thing to get excited about.

Part of what makes the album so satisfying to dig into these years after the fact is that righteous bit of misdirection at the top. “Roman Nails” is a massive, spacious-feeling groove, communicating its largesse through tonal density and vocal echo, and even the snare drum manages to sound thick. It is slow enough to be called lumbering but not as slow as Aleph Null will get, but where one might expect it to lead into more of the same from the rest of what follows, they instead decide to reinterpret ’90s-style heavy rock — definitively not grunge but not long after it in the timeline — into the creeper sensibility of “Backward Spoken Rhymes,” declining lead guitar swirling around before a chugging verse takes hold in leading to a bigger hook, like a dirtier-toned version of Deliverance-era C.O.C., but more born out of that influence than trying to capture it exactly. That is, in particularly impressive fashion for it being their first record, Aleph Null bring that style into their own context rather than try to convince the listener all of a sudden they’ve gone Southern heavy. It’s a striking one-two, and it’s not the last twist, as “Muzzle of a Sleeping God” — which indeed seems to start with backward speech and swirls, manifesting the prior title — plays through its languid shuffle, making its way smoothly into a more weighted progression in its fourth minute as a kind of arrival point for where that initial movement was leading. When this band wanted to, they could land with a thud to shake the ground, but clearly as represented across Nocturnal, that wasn’t all they had in mind.

The aforementioned “Black Winged Cherub,” with its hey-remember-mashups vibe, leads fluidly into the longer “Stronghold,” which is suited to its position ahead of the two-part closer. Slowed down The Sword riffing, with an effectively shouted chorus, leads into a dreamier stretch of lead-topped nod, but it’s the bass that’s the bed for the verse while the guitar spaces out, the drums giving skeletal structure beneath but not overplaying — you wouldn’t immediately think of it as classy or thoughtful, but it’s both. And the way the vocal melody aligns with the guitar feels like what would’ve been a sign of things to come from Aleph Null for future releases. If I was reviewing it as a new album today, I’d talk about “Stronghold” as broadcasting their potential for listeners to hear, right up to its noisy, multi-tiered feedback finish, which fades out before hitting seven minutes and gives way to “Nocturnal Part I,” the three-minute instrumental interlude-plus that seems wholly intended to hypnotize ahead of the more extended capper “Nocturnal Part II,” its rumble indicative of a threat of what’s to follow even as the quieter ambience feels like a departure from nearly everything else on offer with Nocturnal thus far.

“Nocturnal Part II” arrives — and it is an arrival — with a seamless transition and feels right to move quickly into its verse. Its roll is immediate, encapsulating, engrossing and the doubling of the vocals for the last line of the initial verse signifies the change into a speedier push, a vital swing playing back and forth with the tonal morass as the title line is dropped after three minutes into the march. They cycle through again, growing more chaotic simultaneously as they reinforce the underlying plot they’re following, and hit into the last big slowdown with time to spare, feeling well within their rights to tear down the wall of sound they’ve worked so diligently to build all the while.

As noted, Nocturnal isn’t the final release Aleph Null had during their time, but it is something of a shame that the LP didn’t get the sequel it seemed to set up throughout its run. In 2017, Philip and Carsten re-emerged with the duo Milkbrother and issued a first, self-titled EP (discussed here), and there was potential there as well, but to-date there has never been a follow-up. The history of rock and roll, let alone heavy rock, is littered with footnotes of one-album killers who never manifested what might’ve been, and maybe Aleph Null belong in that category, but that does nothing to undercut the accomplishments of this debut.

As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.

—

This was a pretty shitty-feeling week. On a personal level, this is a pretty shitty-feeling time. And I’ve been kind of bummed on the site too, the whole process of reviewing trying to keep up with news, doing premieres, emails coming in that I don’t have time or really desire to answer, on and on, and I’ve been asking myself what I’m continuing to do this for. Not money, since there isn’t much if any to speak of. Not free records, since even bands I’ve written about for over a decade are giving me shit about sending a download like I’ve been working the long-con writing about music for the last 18 years so I could start leaking stoner rock albums now, so what is it? There’s an audience, I think, but if I’m doing this for an ego boost, I’m selling myself cheap, and that doesn’t really feel good either. So what? I can write for Creem? Do a show on Gimme Metal? I can travel to fests a couple times a year if I’m lucky and can get away? That last one is actually the best argument, but the payoff for the level of labor it actually takes to do this thing the way I feel like it needs to be done is still low.

I know I want to hit 15 years, which I will in 2024, but if things stay the way they are now, I’ll reassess after that where I’m at with this whole project. I told myself I wasn’t going to make any big decisions during the pandemic when there was no live music happening, and I’ve been really, really down on any number of things lately, so this doesn’t seem like a time to decide either way, if it’s just that I’m in a shitty place mentally. But when would be good? Am I delaying ripping off a Band-aid if I say another year? And who am I without The Obelisk? It’s been so long I don’t even know. I barely know who I am with it.

This weekend I’m driving to Richmond, Virginia, to attend the Alabama Thunderpussy reunion (info here), and next week I’m going to Sweden with the guys in Kings Destroy to the Truckfighters Fuzz Festival in Stockholm. My hope is that these events and the respective and concurrent time with friends will redirect some of my general energy, because if you want to look back, I’ve had kind of a sour taste in my mouth since I returned from Psycho Las Vegas, and every trip I take in service to covering bands, I pay for in resentment from my family and my own guilt upon my return. It can be and has been a brutal metric.

Even if I stopped The Obelisk tomorrow, I can’t really ever see myself not writing. Could I freelance? Think maybe Lee over at The Sleeping Shaman would have a spot to let me do what I want? I don’t know. To be honest I haven’t given a post-Obelisk life much thought, I think in no small part because The Obelisk takes up such a significant portion of my time and my identity now. Could I just be a dad for a few years? Would I go out of my mind? Am I not going out of my mind now?

Maybe not. Things could be and have been worse. But it’s been a while since I’ve looked forward to getting up in the morning, even though the coffee is good. I’ve been hit or miss on music the last few weeks though, and that troubles me deeply. Though the new Forlesen record has been blowing my mind this afternoon.

A few hours alone in the car will do me good driving to Virginia and back, and Sunday is the Gimme Metal Obelisk-athon, so that will be something to listen to at least for as long as I can stand the sound of my own voice. I want to review that Forlesen next week, and Sky Pig if I can get to it. Looking like the Quarterly Review — another 100-album one — will have to wait until January, because the task is year-ending stuff for 2022 will be significant. Blah blah, scheduling.

I also just booked a Witchthroat Serpent video premiere for next Wednesday. So that’s a thing.

Thanks to everybody who’s left a list so far in the year-end poll, and thanks for reading. Have a great and safe weekend.

FRM.

The Obelisk Collective on Facebook

The Obelisk Radio

The Obelisk merch

And now for the heartwarming tale of a band getting bigger. Early Moods come along and start kicking ass and yesterday I’m reading they’re starting to work with Nanotear for booking (you might know Nathan Carson from Witch Mountain if not the booking end of things) and now today they’re announcing a (prior booked) trip to the East Coast supporting no less than High on Fire. From here to where? Europe? Oh that’s gotta be in the works. They’re too good at what they do for Europe not to have noticed. Is their self-titled (review here) the best debut album of 2022? I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it yet. But I know it’s on the damn list.

Also somewhat curious that their post hashtags Nuclear Blast. I know that’s Municipal Waste‘s label now, and fair enough, but it honestly wouldn’t surprise me if they saw something they liked in a young band taking on classic doom metal at such a high level and with their kind of nascent stage presence. I don’t know anything in that regard, mind you — the self-titled came out on RidingEasy Records, and if their next one does too, it’ll only be to the band’s benefit; Daniel knows how to make a band happen — but it’s something that caught my eye just the same. If that announcement comes, I’ll just make another post, pat myself on the back for noticing what turned out to be a dropped hint.

So anyway, tour dates, huh? Here you go:

We’re hitting the road this December w/ @municipalwaste @highonfireband & @gelhc !

Tickets go on sale Friday, October 28th at 10:00AM Local Time at the link in bio.

Dec 1 – Hampton Beach, NH – Wally’s
Dec 2 – Brattleboro, VT – The Stone Church
Dec 3 – Hartford, CT – The Webster Theater
Dec 4 – Patchogue, NY – 89 North
Dec 6 – Asbury Park, NJ – House of Independants
Dec 7 – Mechanicsville, PA – Lovedraft’s Brewing Co
Dec 8 – Virginia Beach, VA – Elevation 27
Dec 9 – Greenville, NC – The State Theatre
Dec 10 – Columbia, SC – The Senate
Dec 11 – Tampa, FL – The Orpheum

Poster art by @gianluca_fusco.

#MunicipalWaste #HighOnFire #GelHC #EarlyMoodsBand #NuclearBlastRecords

https://www.instagram.com/early_moods
https://www.facebook.com/earlymoods/
https://earlymoods.bandcamp.com/releases

https://www.instagram.com/easyriderrecord/
https://www.facebook.com/ridingeasyrecords/
http://www.ridingeasyrecords.com/

Early Moods, Early Moods (2022)

See you back here Monday, huh? Yeah. If onslaughts of new music are your thing and you’ve been following along throughout this week — first, thank you — and second, we’ll pick up after the weekend with another 50 albums in this double-wide Fall 2022 Quarterly Review. This was a good week though. Yesterday had some genuine killers, and I’ve added a few to my best-of lists for the end-of-year stuff to come. There’ll be another Quarterly Review then too. Never any trouble filling slots with new releases. I’ve already started, in fact.

Madness. Didn’t I say something yesterday about one thing at a time? Ha.

Quarterly Review #41-50:

Crippled Black Phoenix, Banefyre

There are times where I wonder if Crippled Black Phoenix aren’t just making fun of other bands, their audience, themselves, and everything, and then there are times when I’m pretty sure they are. To wit, their latest outing for Season of Mist, Banefyre, is nearly an hour into its 90-plus-minute runtime before they offer up the 10-minute “Down the Rabbit Hole,” and, well, if we’re not down it by then, where the hell are we? See also “Wyches and Basterdz” near the outset. Whatever else they may be, the long-running, dynamic, progressive, dark heavy rock troupe surrounding founding songwriter and guitarist Justin Greaves are like nothing else. They offer shades of influences, discernable elements from this or that style, this or that band — “The Reckoning” has a bit of The Cure, “Blackout77” filters that through Katatonia, etc. — but are never working to be anyone but themselves. Accordingly, the thoroughly British depressive triumphs throughout Banefyre — looking at you, “I’m OK, Just Not Alright” — are part of an ongoing narrative of creative development that will hit its 20th year in 2024 and has offered listeners an arc of emotive and stylistic depth that, in whatever genre you want to try to confine it, is only ever going to escape. The only real tragedy of Banefyre is that they’ll probably have another record out before this one can be properly digested. That’ll take a few years at least.

Crippled Black Phoenix on Facebook

Season of Mist website

—

 

Chat Pile, God’s Country

An Oklahoma hardcore-born circus of sludge-toned tragedies personal, cultural and socioeconomic played out across nine songs/42 minutes held together at times seemingly most of all by their disenchantment, Chat Pile‘s debut album, God’s Country is arthouse angularity, raw aggression and omnidirectional intensity. As the UK’s post-industrial waste once birth’d Godflesh, so now come vocalist Raygun Busch, guitarist Luther Manhole, bassist Stin and electronic-drummer Cap’n Ron with brilliantly constructed tales of drugs, murder, suicide, loss, violence, misery, and general wretchedness of spirit, presented instrumentally with quick turns that draw from hardcore as noted, but also death metal, sludge, industrial doom, and so on. The lyrics are masterful drug poetry and delivered as such, semi-spoken, shouted, some singing, some acting out, such that you never know from what direction the next punch is coming. “Why” tackles homelessness, “Pamela” demonstrates the impossibility of coping with loss, “Slaughterhouse” is what it says, and closer “Grimace_Smoking_Weed.jpeg” resolves its nine minutes in long-held feedback and crashes as Busch frantically screams with decreasing intelligibility until it’s even words anymore. A perfect finish to a stunning, terrifying, moving first album. Don’t go into it expecting listenability. Even as “I Don’t Care if I Burn” offers some respite, it does so while describing a murder fantasy. It’s not the only one.

Chat Pile on Instagram

The Flenser store

—

 

Early Moods, Early Moods

Fuck yes Gen-Z doom. Yes. Yes. Yes. Show the old men how it’s done. Please. Not a gray hair in the bunch, or a bullshit riff, or a lazy groove. Early Moods got their influences in line with their 2020 debut EP, Spellbound (review here), and you can still hear some Candlemass in “Broken,” but their self-titled debut LP stamps its foot to mark their arrival as something new and a fresh take on classic ideas. Vocalist Alberto Alcaraz is a distinct presence atop the hard-distorted guitars of Eddie Andrade and Oscar Hernandez, while Elix Feliciano‘s bass fuzz-rumbles through the interlude “Memento Mori” and Chris Flores‘ big-room-ready kick counts in the Trouble‘d early highlight “Live to Suffer.” Later on, “Curse of the Light” leans into the metal end of classic doom metal ahead of the chugging roll of “Damnation” and the finisher “Funeral Macabre,” but Early Moods have already put these things in play by then, as demonstrated with the eponymous title-track. Songs are tight, crisply produced, and executed to style with a promise of more growth to come. It’s an easy record to get excited about, and one of 2022’s best albums. I might just buy the tape and the CD.

Early Moods on Facebook

RidingEasy Records store

—

 

Larman Clamor, With a Deadly Hiss

Less than a year after a return born of celebrating the project’s 10th anniversary with the Ink fo’ Blood (review here) full-length, prolific visual artist, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist and singer Alexander von Wieding returns with Larman Clamor‘s latest, With a Deadly Hiss. As ever, formalities are dispensed with in favor of deceptively intricate arrangements of slide acoustic and electric guitar, whatever’s-around-style percussion and von Wieding‘s telltale throaty vocals, which on “Swamp Jive” and even a bit of the six-minute finale “Eleventh Spell to Cast” draw back the throaty grit in favor of a more melodic, somewhat less performative delivery that suits the material well. Songs are mostly short — there are 11 of them and the aforementioned closer is the longest by about three minutes — but each is a blinking glimpse into the humid, climbing-vine world of von Wieding‘s creation, and in instrumentals like the manic percussion of “Monkey and the Trash Goblins” and the distortion-backed algae-delica of “Iguana at the Fountain,” the brashness of “Tortuga” and the playful falsetto of the leadoff title-track are expanded in such a way as to hint of future paths to be explored. One way or the other, Larman Clamor remains an entity unto itself in concept, craft and delivery, and if With a Deadly Hiss is just another forward step en route to the next stop on down the road, even better.

Larman Clamor on Facebook

Larman Clamor on Bandcamp

—

 

The Necromancers, When the Void Rose

Recorded in 2021, The Necromancers‘ third album would seem to have a mind toward picking up where the Poitiers, France-based four-piece left off pre-pandemic with 2018’s Of Blood and Wine (review here). Can hardly blame them, frankly. Now self-releasing (their first two albums were on Ripple), the semi-cult heavy rockers bring an air of classic metal to the proceedings but are remarkably cohesive in their craft, with guitarist/vocalist Basile Chevalier-Coudrain fronting the band even in the studio as demonstrated on the ’80s metal roller “The Needle,” which follows the eight-minute doom-adjacent unfolding of “Crimson Hour” — and that “adjacent” is a compliment, by the way; The Necromancers are less concerned with playing to genre than with it — wherein guitarist Robin Genais adds a short but classy solo to underscore the willful grandiosity. Bassist Simon Evariste and drummer Benjamin Rousseau underscore the grooves, prominent in the verse of the title-track, and while it’s guitars up front in traditionalist fashion, the truth is all four players are critical here, and it’s the overarching affect of the whole that makes When the Void Rose such an engaging listen, rather than the individual parts. That is to say, listen front to back for best results.

The Necromancers on Facebook

The Necromancers on Bandcamp

—

 

Les Lekin, Limbus

Though instrumental across its vast stretches, Les Lekin‘s Limbus — their first full-length since 2017’s Died with Fear, also on Tonzonen, and third overall — begins with a verbal message of hope, lyrics in German, in the beginning intro “Licht.” That gives a specifically covid-era context to the proceedings, but as the subsequent three massive sans-vocal pieces “Ascent” (14:14), “Unknown” (8:18) and closer “Return” (22:00), unfold, they do so with a decidedly otherworldly, deeply-weighted psychedelic verve. The narrative writes itself in the titles, so I’ll spare you the pretense of insight (on my part there), but note that if it was escapism through music being sought on the part of the meditative Salzburg three-piece, the richness of what’s on offer throughout Limbus is generous enough to share that experience with the audience as well. “Ascent” swells and builds as it moves duly upward, and in “Unknown,” the trio explores post-metallic atmospherics in a crunching midsection without ever losing sight of the ambience so central to what they’re doing, while it would be hard for “Return” not to be the highlight, drums and initial bass rumble giving way to a huge sounding, engrossing procession of atmospheric density. Les Lekin have been a critical favorite for a while now, and it’s easy to hear why, but their work here holds far more than academic appeal or to-genre conformity. They embody the release they would seem to have sought and still carry an exploratory spirit despite the clearly charted course of their songs.

Les Lekin on Facebook

Tonzonen Records store

—

 

Highbay, LightShower

LightShower is the fourth session from Hungarian jammers Highbay to see release in the last year-plus, and it arrives with the immediately noteworthy backing of Psychedelic Source Records. In the vein of many of that collective’s offerings, it is live recorded, probably improvised, and wholly instrumental, the trio vibing their way into a groove early on “Walking on Bubbles” and holding gently to that locked-in, entranced feel across the following five jams. The shimmering guitar tone, particuly as “Miracle Under Water” moves into the more extended “Spaceship” and the pleasantly funky “FunKing Dragons Above Fissure Mountains,” is a highlight, but the intention here is a full set, and I won’t take away from the fuzzier, riffier emergence later on in “FunKing Dragons” either, or, for that matter, the ready-to-wander post-rock float of closer “3D(ays) Trippin’.” It’s a big universe, and Highbay have their work cut out for them if they want to feel their way through all of it, but “Spaceship” mellows its way off into a greater beyond, and even “Hungover Sadness (’90s Romance)” manages to not be a drag as filtered through the trio’s chemistry. Maybe it will, maybe it won’t be the last time Highbay are heard from this year, but they’re yet another name to add to the list of Psychedelic Source-associated acts whose jammy sensibilities are helping manifest a new generation of Eastern European lysergic rock and roll.

Psychedelic Source Records on Facebook

Psychedelic Source Records on Bandcamp

—

 

Sound Animal, Yes, Yes, You

Think of this as less of a review and more of a general reminder to throw a follow in the direction of Berkeley, California’s dug-in-as-hell Sound Animal, or at very least let your ears pay a visit every now and again to soak up some of the weirdo drone, dance, psych electronics and whatever else might be had on any given afternoon from the prolific solo-project. “Yes, Yes, You” is the latest single, but likely not for long, and it plays out across 3:33 of keyboardian ambience and recitations of the titular reassurance that would be soul-pop were they not so definitively experimental and part of such an ongoing creative splurge. Tucked away in a corner of the Bandcamp dimension, Sound Animal comes across as an outlet for ideas as much as sonics, and with the persistent thud of a beat beneath, one, two, three, four, the melodic serenity of the wash feels like direct conversation, with the listener, the self, or, more likely, both. It is beautiful and brief, as I’m told life also is, and it may just be the thing that came after one thing and before the next, but if you stop for a minute or three and let it sink in, you just might find a more substantial place to reside. Not gonna be for everyone, but the fact that “Yes, Yes, You” is so vague and yet so clearly encouraging rather than accusatory speaks to the artistic purpose writ large throughout Sound Animal‘s e’er expanding catalog. Wouldn’t be surprised or sad to find a subsequent single going somewhere else entirely, but again, just a reminder that it’s worth finding that out.

Sound Animal on Facebook

Sound Animal website

—

 

Warcoe, The Giant’s Dream

Somewhere between classic metal and doom, heavy rock’s riff-led impulses and cultish atmospheres there resides the Pesaro, Italy, trio Warcoe and their debut album, The Giant’s Dream. Led by guitarist/vocalist Stefano — who also plays bass on some of the later tracks — with bassist Carlo and drummer Francesco proffering thickened roll and punctuating rhythm all the while save for the early acoustic interlude “Omega Sunrise,” the band nestle smoothly into a modern-via-not-at-all-modern sphere, yet neither are they retro or aping ’70s methodologies. Maybe that moment has passed and it’s the ascent of the ’80s metal and doom we’re seeing here — or maybe I just slated Warcoe and Early Moods the same day and both bands dig Trouble and Death Row/Pentagram, I won’t pretend to know — but the bass in “Fire and Snow” is more of a presence than bass was pretty much ever 40 years ago, so to call The Giant’s Dream anything but ‘now’ is inaccurate. They lean into rock on “Thieves, Heretics and Whores” and manifest grim but stately lurch before the fade of the penultimate “Scars Will Remain,” but wherever each piece might end up, the impression is abidingly dark and offers a reminder that Italy’s history of cult doom goes farther back than most. Paul Chain, Steve Sylvester, your legacy is in good hands.

Warcoe on Facebook

Forbidden Place Records on Bandcamp

—

 

DONE, Aged and Untreated

Hard to find info on the Boston or Boston-adjacent extreme-metal-inflected, sludge-toned dark hardcore outfit DONE — and that may just as well be anti-social-media mystique creation as the fact that their name is ungooglable — but the tape slays. Aged and Untreated hammers 15 scathing tracks into its 28 minutes, and dies on a hill of wintry black metal and barking hardcore mostly but not completely summarized in the turns of “Soulsplitter.” The fun part is when they bounce back and forth, throw in some grind on “To Curt on Waverly,” scratch your eyes out with “Dance for Them” — the second cut behind says-it-all-in-a-minute opener “Nah” — and willfully crash into a wall on the comparatively sprawling 2:35 “I Fucking Hate Thinking About You.” Haven’t seen a lyric sheet and probably won’t if my success rate in tracking down relevant factoids is anything to go by, but shit, I lived on the South Shore for seven years, including the record-breaking winter of 2014, and it sure felt a lot like this. Maybe they’re from Arizona, and if they are, I’m sure some hack would say the same thing, but hell’s bells Aged and Untreated is an intense listen, and its wreck-your-shit violence is meted out such that even the slightly-slower punch in the first half of “Hope Trickle” makes the song feel sarcastic. I wouldn’t put it on every day, but yeah. Righteously pissed.

Tor Johnson Records on Bandcamp

Tor Johnson Records store

—

 

Day two of the Fall 2022 Quarterly Review brings a fresh batch of 10 releases en route to the total 100 by next Friday. Some of this is brand new, some of it is older, some of it is doom, some is rock, some is BongBongBeerWizards, and so on. Sometimes these things get weird, and I guess that’s where it’s at for me these days, but you’re going to find plenty of ground to latch onto despite that. Wherever you end up, I hope you’re digging this so far half as much as I am. Much love as always as we dive back in.

Quarterly Review #11-20:

Fu Manchu, Fu30 Pt. 2

Like everyone’s everything in the era, Fu Manchu‘s 30th anniversary celebration didn’t go as planned, but with their Fu30 Pt. 2 three-songer, they give 2020’s Fu30 Pt. 1 EP (posted here) the sequel its title implied and present two originals and one cover in keeping with that prior release’s format. Tracked in 2021, “Strange Plan” and the start-stop-riffed “Low Road” are quintessential works of Fu fuzz, so SoCal they’re practically in Baja, and bolstered by the kinds of grooves that have held the band in good stead with listeners throughout these three-plus decades. “Strange Plan” is more aggressive in its shove, but perhaps not so confrontational as the cover of Surf Punks‘ 1980 B-side “My Wave,” a quaint bit of surferly gatekeeping with the lines, “Go back to the Valley/And don’t come back,” in its chorus. As they will with their covers, the four-piece from San Clemente bring the song into their own sound rather than chase down trying to sound like Reagan-era punk, and that too is a method well proven on the part of the band. If you ever believed heavy rock and roll could be classic, Fu Manchu are that, and for experienced heads who’ve heard them through the years as they’ve tried different production styles, Fu30 Pt. 2 finds an effective middle ground between impact and mellow groove.

Fu Manchu on Facebook

At the Dojo Records website

—

 

Valborg, Der Alte

Not so much a pendulum as a giant slaughterhouse blade swinging from one side to the other like some kind of horrific grandfather clock, Valborg pull out all the industrial/keyboard elements from their sound and strip down their songwriting about as far as it will go on Der Alte, the 13-track follow-up to 2019’s Zentrum (review here) and their eighth album overall since 2009. Accordingly, the bone-cruncher pummel in cuts like “Kommando aus der Zukunft” and the shout-punky centerpiece “Hektor” is furious and raw. I’m not going to say I hope they never bring back the other aspects of their sound, but it’s hard not to appreciate the directness of the approach on Der Alte, on which only the title-track crosses the four-minute mark in runtime (it has a 30 second intro; such self-indulgence!), and their sound is still resoundingly their own in tone and the throaty harsh vocals on “Saturn Eros Xenomorph” and “Hoehle Hoelle” and the rest across the album’s intense, largely-furious-but-still-not-lacking-atmosphere span. If it was another band, you might call it death metal. As it stands, Der Alte is just Valborg, distilled to their purest and meanest form.

Valborg on Facebook

Prophecy Productions webstore

—

 

Sons of Arrakis, Volume I

2022 is probably a good year to put out a record based around Frank Herbert’s Dune universe (the Duniverse?), what with the gargantuan feature film last year and another one coming at some point as blah blah franchise everything, but Montreal four-piece Sons of Arrakis have had at least some of the songs on Volume I in the works for the better part of four years, guitarists Frédéric Couture (also vocals) and Francis Duchesne (also keys) handling recording for the eight-song/30-minute outing with Vick Trigger on bass and Eliot Landry on drums locking in tight grooves pushing all that sci-fi and fuzz along at a pace that one only wishes the movie had shared. I’ve never read Dune, which is only relevant information here because Volume I doesn’t leave me feeling out of the loop as “Temple of the Desert” locks in quintessential stoner rock janga-janga shuffle and “Lonesome Preacher” culminates in twisty fuzz that should well please fans of Valley of the Sun before bleeding directly and smoothly into the melodic highlight “Abomination” in a way that, to me at least, bodes better for their longer term potential than whatever happenstance novelty of subject matter surrounds. There’s plenty of Dune out there if they want to stick to the theme, but songwriting like this could be about brushing your teeth and it’d still work.

Sons of Arrakis on Facebook

Sons of Arrakis on Instagram

—

 

Voidward, Voidward

Voidward‘s self-titled full-length debut lands some nine years after the Durham, North Carolina, trio’s 2013 Knives EP, and accordingly features nearly a decade’s worth of difference in sound, casting off longer-form post-black metal duggery in favor of more riff-based explorations. Still at least partially metallic in its roots, as opener “Apologize” makes plain and the immediate nodder roll of “Wolves” backs up, the eight-song/47-minute outing is distinguished by the clean, floating vocal approach of guitarist Greg Sheriff, who almost reminds of Dave Heumann from Arbouretum, though no doubt other listeners will hear other influences, and yes that’s a compliment. Joined by bassist/backing vocalist Alec Ferrell — harmonies persist on “Wolves” and elsewhere — and drummer Noah Kessler, Sheriff brings just a hint of char to the tone of “Oblivion,” but the blend of classic heavy rock and metal throughout points Voidward to someplace semi-psychedelic but nonetheless richly ambient, and even the most straightforward inclusion, arguably “Chemicals” though closer “Cobalt” has plenty of punch as well, is rich in its execution. They even thrash a bit on “Horses,” so as long as it’s not another nine years before they do anything else, they sound like they can go wherever they want. Rare for a debut.

Voidward on Facebook

Clearly Records on Bandcamp

—

 

Indus Valley Kings, Origin

The second long-player from Long Island, New York’s Indus Valley Kings, Origin brings together nine songs across an expansive 55 minutes, and sees the trio working from a relatively straightforward heavy rock foundation toward more complex purposes, whether that’s the spacious guitar stretch-out of “A Cold Wind” or the tell-tale chug in the second half of centerpiece “Dark Side of the Sun.” They effectively shift back and forth between lengthier guitar-led jams and more straight-up verses and choruses, but structure is never left too far behind to pick up again as need be, and the confidence behind their play comes through amid a relatively barebones production style, the rush of the penultimate “Drowned” providing a later surge in answer to the more breadth-minded unfurling of “Demon Beast” and the bluesy “Mohenjo Daro.” So maybe they’re not actually from the Indus Valley. Fine. I’ll take the Ripple-esque have-riffs-have-shred-ready-to-roll “Hell to Pay” wherever it’s coming from, and the swing of the earlier “…And the Dead Shall Rise” doesn’t so much dogwhistle its penchant for classic heavy as serve it to the listener on a platter. If we’re picking favorites, I might take “A Cold Wind,” but there’s plenty to dig on one way or the other, and Origin issues invitations early and often for listeners to get on board.

Indus Valley Kings on Facebook

Indus Valley Kings on Bandcamp

—

 

Randy Holden, Population III

Clearly whoever said there were no second chances in rock and roll just hadn’t lived long enough. After reissuing one-upon-a-time Blue Cheer guitarist Randy Holden‘s largely-lost classic Population II (discussed here) for its 50th anniversary in 2020, RidingEasy Records offers Holden‘s sequel in Population III. And is it the work for which Holden will be remembered? No. But it is six songs and 57 minutes of Holden‘s craft, guitar playing, vocals and groove, and, well, that feels like something worth treasuring. Holden was in his 60s when he and Randy Pratt (also of Cactus) began to put together Population III, and for the 21-minute “Land of the Sun” alone, the album’s release a decade later is more than welcome both from an archival standpoint and in the actual listening experience, and as “Swamp Stomp” reminds how much of the ‘Comedown Era’s birth of heavy rock was born of blues influence, “Money’s Talkin'” tears into its solo with a genuine sense of catharsis. Holden may never get his due among the various ‘guitar gods’ of lore, but if Population III exposes more ears to his work and legacy, so much the better.

Randy Holden on Facebook

RidingEasy Records store

—

 

The Gray Goo, 1943

Gleefully oddball Montana three-piece The Gray Goo remind my East Coast ears a bit of one-time Brooklynites Eggnogg for their ability to bring together funk and heavy/sometimes-psychedelic rock, but that’s not by any means the extent of what they offer with their debut album, 1943, which given the level of shenanigans in 10-minute opener and longest track (immediate points) “Bicycle Day” alone, I’m going to guess is named after the NES game. In any case, from “Bicycle Day” on down through the closing “Cop Punk,” the pandemic-born outfit find escape in right-right-right-on nods and bass tone, partially stonerized but casting off expectation with an aplomb that manifests in the maybe-throwing-an-elbow noise of “Problem Child,” and the somehow-sleek rehearsal-space funk of “Launch” and “The Comedown,” which arrives ahead of “Shakes and Spins” — a love song, of sorts, with fluid tempo changes and a Primus influence buried in there somewhere — and pulls itself out of the ultra-’90s jam just in time for a last plodding hook. Wrapping with the 1:31 noise interlude “Goo” and the aforementioned “Cop Punk,” which gets the prize lyrically even with the competition surrounding, 1943 is going right on my list of 2022’s best debut albums with a hope for more mischief to come.

The Gray Goo on Facebook

The Gray Goo on Bandcamp

—

 

Acid Rooster, Ad Astra

Oh, sweet serenity. Maybe if we all had been in that German garden on the day in summer 2020 when Acid Rooster reportedly performed the two extended jams that comprise Ad Astra — “Zu den Sternen” (22:28) and “Phasenschieber” (23:12) — at least some of us might’ve gotten the message and the assurance so desperately needed at the time that things were going to be okay. And that would’ve been nice even if not necessarily the truth. But as it stands, Ad Astra documents that secret outdoor showcase on the part of the band, unfolding with improvised grace across its longform pieces, hopeful in spirit and plenty loud by the time they get there but never fully departing from a hopeful sensibility, some vague notion of a better day to come. Even in the wholesale drone immersion of “Phasenschieber,” with the drums of “Zu den Sternen” seemingly disappeared into that lush ether, I want to close my eyes and be in that place and time, to have lived this moment. Impossible, right? Couldn’t have happened. And yet some were there, or so I’m told. The rest of us have the LP, and that’s not nothing considering how evocative this music is, but the sheer aural therapy of that moment must have been a powerful experience indeed. Hard not to feel lucky even getting a glimpse.

Acid Rooster on Facebook

Sunhair Music store

Cardinal Fuzz store

Little Cloud Records store

—

 

BongBongBeerWizards, Ampire

A sophomore full-length from the Dortmund trio of guitarist/synthesist Bong Travolta, bassist/vocalist Reib Asnah and (introducing) drummer/vocalist Chill Collins — collectively operating as BongBongBeerWizards — Ampire is a call to worship for Weed and Loud alike, made up of three tracks arranged longest to shortest (immediate points) and lit by sacred rumble of spacious stoner doom. Plod as god. Tonal tectonics. This is not about innovation, but celebrating noise and lumber for the catharsis they can be when so summoned. Willfully repetitive, primitive and uncooperative, there’s some debt of mindset to the likes of Poland’s Belzebong or the largesse of half-speed Slomatics/Conan/Mammoth Weed Wizard Bastard, but again, if you come into the 23-minute leadoff “Choirs and Masses” expecting genre-shaping originality, you’ve already fucked up. Get crushed instead. Put it on loud and be consumed. It won’t work for everybody, but it’s not supposed to. But if you’re the sort of head crusty enough to appreciate the synth-laced hypnotic finish of “Unison” or the destructive mastery of “Slumber,” you’re gonna shit a brick when the riffs come around. They’re not the only church in town, but it’s just the right kind of fun for melting your brains with volume.

BongBongBeerWizards on Facebook

BongBongBeerWizards on Bandcamp

—

 

Mosara, Only the Dead Know Our Secrets

Any way you want to cut it with Mosara‘s second album, Only the Dead Know Our Secrets, the root word you’re looking for is “heavy.” You’d say, “Oh, well ‘Magissa’ has elements of early-to-mid-aughts sludge and doom at work with a raw presentation in its cymbal splash and shouted vocals.” Or you’d say, “‘The Permanence of Isolation’ arrives at a chugging resolution after a deceptively intricate intro,” or “the acoustic beginning of ‘Zion’s Eyes’ leads to a massive, engaging nod that shows thoughtfulness of construction in its later intertwining of lead guitar lines.” Or that the closing title-track flips the structure to end quiet after an especially tortured stretch of nonetheless-ambient sludge. All that’s true, but you know what it rounds out to when you take away the blah blah blah? It’s fucking heavy. Whatever angle you’re approaching from — mood, tone, songwriting, performance — it’s fucking heavy. Sometimes there’s just no other way, no better way, to say it. Mosara‘s 2021 self-titled debut (review here) was too. It’s just how it is. I bet their next one will be as well, or at very least I hope so. If you’re old enough to recall Twingiant, there’s members of that band here, but even if not, what you need to know is that Only the Dead Know Our Secrets is fucking heavy. So there.

Mosara on Facebook

Mosara on Bandcamp

—

 

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: Daniel Story Rice of Westing, Brim, Sun Umbra & Fuzz Family Booking

—

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

Composing lyrics along with vocal melodies and harmonies are my largest contributions to the music of Slow Season/Westing, Brim, and Sun Umbra, but I do write songs or just instrumental parts for guitar and keys as well. As far the lyrical side goes, I think that I am trying to find a way to express feelings and ideas that I find difficult to express in a strictly verbal sense. Music is very therapeutic for me in that way.

I came to do this work by very intentionally practicing songwriting in my early twenties. I would perform an exercise where I would open a newspaper with my eyes closed and put my finger on a column at random. Whether it be a classified add or murder mystery, I would set about writing a song using the details of that randomly selected newspaper content as a creative exercise.

After toiling on bedroom recording projects for awhile, I finally got the gumption to emerge and collaborate. I joined my first band when I was 23 because I felt confident enough in my singing abilities to provide a second harmony part to some three-part harmonies a friend had. I brought my lap steel along because I could fake proficiency at that instrument with enough reverb and a volume pedal. Soon enough I had started to play keys and harmonica in that band and began to gain confidence from the repetition of performance after performance. Cody Tarbell joined that band as our third drummer and we soon broke away and started to do what would become Slow Season in late 2011.

Describe your first musical memory.

I remember choking on a coin while the congregation sang a hymn at the church my parents and grandparents attended in Porterville, CA. I think I was two years old. I remember singing mixed with hushed panic as one of my parents hung me upside down and hit my rear end until the coin dislodged. I have no idea if there is an extended metaphor there or not. The second memory I have is attempting to harmonize to Beach Boys songs with my mom while we drove in the car. She sang either the alto or tenor parts in a church where instruments weren’t allowed and four-part shape note hymnals honed my musical ear.

Describe your best musical memory to date.

I started crying a teeny bit when King Crimson played “Epitaph” and just generally killed it at the Fox in Oakland in late 2019. It was an incredible show and helped me to process what had been yet another difficult year in my life.

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

Outside of personal spiritual matters, I’d say a music-related belief I once held was that analog recording was superior to digital because the limitations of the medium became a component of the art’s aura itself. Now that I’ve done a record with Cody that incorporated some digital aspects into the latter parts of the production I can decisively say that that’s not really true. What’s more, recording digitally enabled us to work remotely with Ben [McLeod] since he wasn’t able to finish every single thing he needed to in the four days we had to record the new Westing record.

Where do you feel artistic progression leads?

Hopefully to a better understanding of self, others, and life in general. Inevitably it will probably lead you away from fans of your early work as you grow and change as an artist and as person. Sometimes that means more financial “success” and sometimes that means less “success” but in the end at least you did what you had to do. I def don’t begrudge some of my favorite older artists their later output because the music they make now isn’t for me – it’s for the old fart I’m gonna become and the people that became old farts alongside the artists from their own generation.

How do you define success?

In broad terms I think it means reaching your deathbed without having compromised your core values. In musical terms, to me it means sharing my thoughts and feelings in a way that I can feel honest and uncompromised by economic interests. Financial success in music to the point that it paid my bills would probably destroy the pleasure and therapy of it for me.

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

Most of the films that I’ve viewed in the last few years. I used to like movies but the vast bulk of productions in the last decade or so have gotten so dumb/redundant. I hate walking away from a screen feeling robbed of time and attention with nothing to show for it.

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

I’d like to either score a film or write and direct a serialized music video series. Either way, I want to be a part of combining visual narrative forms with music that will help audiences to interpret the visual art and immerse themselves more fully into the experience.

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

Yikes. I’d say it mostly has to do with mediating our own confusing lived reality with our own imagined reality of the ideal. We are finite creatures who shit and stink and die and yet can also comprehend truth and beauty and the infinite. That’s a lot of therapeutic ground to cover, and I’m guessing music in addition to visual arts and narrative forms help with this in psychological, spiritual, and even concrete physical ways. I’ve gotten into to the ideas of Ernest Becker, Otto Rank, and Norman O. Brown in the past and that has helped me to make some sense of cultural functions like the arts.

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

Harvest time in my garden and the creation of a community garden next year at the non-profit I volunteer with. The focus is on organic, sustainable practices that address the realities of the seemingly permanent California drought. We are going to break ground in August on a community modeled after the Community First! Village in Austin which provides housing, relationships, services, and dignified income opportunities to people who are chronically homeless.

https://www.facebook.com/slowseasonmusic/
http://instagram.com/slowseasonmusic
http://slowseasonmusic.com/

https://www.facebook.com/sunumbraband
https://www.instagram.com/sunumbra/

http://facebook.com/bandbrim/
https://www.instagram.com/brimband/
https://brimband.bandcamp.com/releases

https://www.instagram.com/fuzzfamily/
https://www.facebook.com/fuzzfamily/
https://visaliahomestead.weeblysite.com/

https://www.facebook.com/ridingeasyrecords/
https://www.instagram.com/easyriderrecord/
http://www.ridingeasyrecords.com/

https://www.facebook.com/royaloakie/
http://instagram.com/royaloakie
https://royaloakie.bandcamp.com/
https://www.royaloakierecords.com/

Brim, California Gold (2022)

Slow Season, Westing (2016)