The drunken heavy rock charm of Canyon Creep‘s 2001 full-length, Hijack the World, makes itself known almost immediately on the aptly-titled intro, “Intro.” Starting off with some dramatic sampled horns that may or may not have been recorded from a tv and may or may not have come from Flash Gordon, a voiceover soon comes on to set the stage:

“Once upon a time
in a land called suburbia
There lived a noble breed of men
Men who spent their lives on a never-ending quest
For honor, glory… and fine chicks.”

So it goes, and “No Brakes” picks up as the first chapter of that quest — rife with unpretentious, ballsy riffing and a not-in-the-slightest serious mood. I managed to nab a copy of Hijack the World on the cheap thanks to All That is Heavy‘s ongoing series of $6.66 killer deals — along with records by Rite, Bongripper, Tweak Bird, Wellwater Conspiracy, Monkey3, Jason Simon, and so on — and with production by Billy Anderson and art by Italian collective Malleus in their early days, felt lucky to do so.

It tops 28 minutes and I suspect if it was going to change the planet it probably would’ve done so at some point in the last 12 years, but the San Francisco trio’s first and only studio outing tapped into a heavy riffing dudery that’s still prevalent today, guitarist/vocalist Tony Buhagiar keeping to a throaty delivery offset by some of the corresponding backing vocals of bassist Dave V. (who takes a lead spot on “Can’t Afford You”) and drummer Jerry Rivera. Songs are by and large short and straightforward, the longest being six-track and highlight “Black Bra” at 4:59, but extras like the gang shouts at the beginning of “I Got the Shakes” and the (surprisingly righteous) bluesy guitar interlude “Warm Beer” add to the no-frills appeal already present in the Northern California ode “Yreka,” which shows some of its date in lyrics bitching about guys in baggy pants, but winds up on the winning side of the argument anyway.

But the high point of the record is “Black Bra,” the unabashed dudeliness of which stands as symbolic of an era when “not being PC” meant more than an excuse for white people to post racist shit on Facebook. They’re doing it in the name of comedy, but there’s a narrative at work anyway and the cleverness of lines like, “Got stuck with a bad borracho/Started talkin’ shit and tryin’ to act all macho/He grabbed your ass and you decked el gacho/With a brick and I would’ve loved to watch you, yeah,” underscoring not only stoner rock’s ongoing penchant for interspersing Spanish lyrics (always fun), but a divide where charm and a familiar misogyny part ways. They’re on the right side of that argument too, and the brick has a lot to do with it, but more relevant, the song rocks and sets up the ending “Can’t Afford You,” “Yreka” and “Give Me Some,” all three of which are about scoring, on some level.

Canyon Creep can get filed maybe not under lost classics, but under decent records worth a look for those like me who may have missed them when they first came out. Another 10 or 15 years and all this stuff will get reissued by somebody or other. Buhagiar and Rivera play together in Tuco Ramirez, and at least according to the Canyon Creep Thee Facebooks, there’s a second Canyon Creep album being worked on that never came to fruition during the band’s first run, which ended in 2002 after Hijack the World came out. Whether or not it ever comes together, the debut may be a blip on history’s radar, but it’s a blip with some cool riffing and beery grooves, and that’s enough for me to dig it.

Canyon Creep, “Warm Beer” & “Black Bra” from Hijack the World

Canyon Creep on Thee Facebooks

Tuco Ramirez on Thee Facebooks

One more for Desertfest before the week is out. Joining a lineup that features a riff head’s dream roster of acts — Colour Haze and Dozer and Truckfighters and Yawning Man and Lowrider and Conan are playing, but you know, no big deal — is San Francisco’s Castle, who released their sophomore full-length, Blacklands, on Prosthetic Records last year. To be blunt, shit is wild. Here’s the official announcement, swiped from the Desertfest London website:

Castle Announced For Desertfest

Formed in 2009, San Francisco’s Castle have created two albums thus far; “In Witch Order” (2011) and last year’s “Blacklands”, which was produced by the legendary Billy Anderson. The lineup consists of Mat Davis (guitar), Elizabeth Blackwell (bass, vocals) and Al McCartney (drums). Together they mix the best elements of classic doom with early black and thrash metal into a tumultuous and inventive maelstrom of oppressive sonic excess, a power trio touched by the hand of the the opposer himself.

In the short time since they started, they have supported such luminaries as Kylesa, Witch Mountain and Hammers of Misfortune. Those three bands combined give a neat, but by no means comprehensive, indication of what you can expect from their sound, on stage and record.

While undoubtedly giving a big nod (or should that be head bang?) to the old-school, they also make an effort to out-stretch their talents into technically demanding territories, exploring realms that you may not expect of them. This gives their stage show an unpredictable, and at times mystical ambiance. All this is taken further on it’s way by Elizabeth Blackwell’s fearsome vocals, ranging from plaintive despair to blood-curdling desperation. A band that will stand out a little from the rest of the fuzzy, stoned crowd of Desertfest, make sure to catch them this year for something refreshingly different, and decidedly more metal!

Words Courtesy of Rich After Sabbath

The only thing really subtle about Kowloon Walled City‘s Container Ships is how subtle it is. The tiny bits of melody that makes their way into the guitars of Scott Evans and Jon Howell, or the surprising effect the record — their second behind 2009′s Gambling on the Richter Scale and label debut on Brutal Panda Records – can have on the listener’s mood despite being so outwardly intense and seeming so cerebral in their approach, that pesky tendency to kick a face with a song.

It’s not the kind of thing you generally think of as ambient, but Container Ships has more to it than its surface heaviness. Its seven component tracks run a vinyl-ready 35 minutes and opening argument “The Pressure Keeps Me Alive” winds up somewhere right in the middle of Kowloon Walled City‘s scope of pace. Evans handles vocal duties with a kind of post-hardcore semi-speech, melodic enough when it needs to be and likewise able to turn within a line’s span into an all-out shout. Tonally, they’re more indebted to Godflesh than the Neurosis/Isis sphere of post-metal, but some of those elements are there, particularly on the centerpiece title-track or side B closer “You Don’t Have Cancer,” the two longest cuts at 7:11 and 8:44, respectively. Most of the album moves quicker, pushed ahead by Jeff Fagundes‘ about-t0-fly-apart drumming (spoiler alert: it never flies apart) and Ian Miller‘s thankfully prominent low end righteousness.

Third track “Beef Cattle” owed so much of its thrust to Godflesh‘s “Anthem” that I wanted to see if it also synched up with Jesus Christ Superstar. I couldn’t get it to work, but someone more enterprising might have better luck. Far from being turned off by the clarity of the derivation — that is, not liking the track for how blatantly it reminds me of something else — I mark “Beef Cattle” as one of Container Ships‘ several high points, its familiarity offset by the context of what’s surrounding, whether it’s the fast-paced rhythmic insistence and weighted crashes of “’50s Dad” before or the extended and gracefully executed build of “Container Ships” that follows. Kowloon Walled City don’t stay in one place long enough to be redundant.

Miller‘s tone makes “Cornerstone,” looming large overhead alongside the guitars in the song’s second half, and though one might argue the track is overshadowed by its more memorable companions, “Container Ships” before and the strong hook of “Wrong Side of History” after,  effective pacing — just slower than middle, but floating here and there — and a solid linear structure make it less of a stumble than it might otherwise be. Still, “Wrong Side of History,” which builds no less momentum into closer “You Don’t Have Cancer” than “Beef Cattle” did into “Container Ships” to round out Container Ships‘ first half, is a defining point of the album. A late-era Akimbo sense of controlled chaos pervades and Evans‘ vocals calling out raised fists and clenched fingers — not to mention the delivery of those lines — push the song over the side of the hardcore designation without veering musically from their stated course. It’s the best chorus here. I wouldn’t want a whole album of it, but like with “Beef Cattle,” it works within the scope of Kowloon Walled City‘s approach.

They once more bring the proceedings to a crawl with “You Don’t Have Cancer,” wind noise setting a bed for the creeping build the payoff of which ends the album with largesse if not excess of tempo. By the crashes that hit just past the six-minute mark, the final cut on Container Ships is already operating at its peak level. The band don’t so much gradually wind the song down as mostly drop off, leaving just the guitar to riff through one more cycle before the sustain fades and then cuts out. Ultimately, Kowloon Walled City walk a pretty fine line of genre, but they do it with feet that land heavy enough to leave a mark. If you’ve never encountered them before, either on Gambling on the Richter Scale or their splits with Ladder Devils/Fight Amp or Thou, Container Ships should make for a rousing introduction.

Were it not for the fact that Golden Void are fronted by guitarist Isaiah Mitchell — also of Earthless, whose name already lingers with an underappreciated mystique despite the fact that they’re still touring — their self-titled Thrill Jockey debut (available on “baby poop yellow” vinyl) would probably just be another excellent showing of organic heavy psych in a sea of same. The kicker is that but for the weight and profile Mitchell‘s pedigree brings to the new San Francisco-based four-piece, not to mention a few killer guitar solos, the two acts have very little to do with each other. And as turns out to be the case throughout the seven tracks/36 minutes of Golden Void‘s Golden Void, that’s a big part of the new band’s appeal.

In Golden Void, Mitchell is joined by bassist Aaron Morgan, drummer Justin Pinkerton and keyboardist Camilla Saufly-Mitchell, and though his guitar playing remains a defining factor here as in Earthless, its purposes are markedly different. Earthless was for a time and probably still is the strongest American presence in jam-based heavy psychedelia worldwide (Tia Carrera, from Austin, also come to mind, albeit on a smaller scale), with sprawling extended tracks ranging through and past Hawkwindian space. That influence shows up here and there on Golden Void as well — it would almost have to, as the band are named for a Hawkwind track from 1975′s Warrior on the Edge of Time – but the songs are not epic classic rock jams, they’re regular songs, with verse parts, chorus parts, and most of all, with singing.

Mitchell proves a more than able vocalist throughout Golden Void‘s debut, doubtless to the surprise of many who might have assumed Earthless stayed instrumental out of some lack of ability rather than an aesthetic choice. Opener “Art of Invading” pits a grunge-style (think vague hallucinations of Soundgarden) against Saufly-Mitchell‘s melodious keyboard, warm basslines from Morgan and Pinkerton‘s natural, popping snare, rising to a grand but still unpretentious apex that sets the course for the rest of the album. Highlights persist in the thicker “Virtue,” the dreamier Hendrixian airiness of  “Jetsun Dolma” and the rising tensions of the early push in “Badlands” — best performance of the album from the rhythm section, who drive it — and pretty soon it’s apparent that you’re more than halfway through listening and there hasn’t been a clunker yet.

I suppose on some level that should be a surprise, but it isn’t really and becomes less of one with repeat listens to these songs. Someone good at something turns out to also be good at… that thing… in a different band. Fair enough. Mitchell puts an album’s worth of soul into the solo of “Jetsun Dolma” as the band builds up behind, and the pop-minded organ sounds of “Shady Grove” bring out a late-’60s psychedelia in a way that continues Golden Void‘s streak of individual identities within the cuts. So too do the closing duo of “The Curve,” which revives the distorted shuffle of the earlier “Virtue,” and the ’70s prog of finale “Atlantis,” the longest track at 7:47 and perhaps the strongest statement of purpose Golden Void make on their debut offering.

“Atlantis” caps with memorable self-harmonizing from Mitchell, as Saufly-Mitchell (who one assumes is his wife; the bio doesn’t say), Morgan and Pinkerton drop out, leaving the vocals to underscore this as just the beginning of Golden Void showcasing their creative breadth. They are as naturally flowing in the longer track as in any of the others, which hover between about four and a half and five and a half minutes, but it’s that last showing of progressive ethereality that really sets the band up to expand their sound next time out. I wouldn’t be surprised to find more such layering in future works, and if Mitchell is to continue Golden Void either as a central- or side-project, then the band already has one collection of songs to its collective credit that lives up to the formidable legacy preceding them.

Golden Void on Thee Facebooks

Thrill Jockey Records

The band released a split with Fight Amp and their Brutal Panda labelmates Ladder Devils in 2010, but Kowloon Walled City are definitely due a follow-up to 2009′s heavier-than-your-face Gambling on the Richter Scale, and the good news is it seems to be in the works. Kowloon Walled City‘s tracks from the Lose/Lose/Lose three-way split are below, and while you dig into them, take a look at the following info off the PR wire:

KOWLOON WALLED CITY Recording New Album

San Francisco’s KOWLOON WALLED CITY are putting the finishing touches on the recording of their upcoming 2nd full length.  Their first record in three years is being recorded at Sharkbite Studios in Oakland, CA, with guitarist/vocalist Scott Evans handling the production duties. To chronicle the recording process, the band will post a series of studio journals via Decibel Magazine, with the first one being available here. A late fall release is being planned on Brutal Panda Records, with release date and additional album info to be announced in the near future.

KOWLOON WALLED CITY have previously released a split 7″ with THOU, split 12″ with FIGHT AMP / LADDER DEVILS, an EP and a full-length.  Their recordings are available for free streaming / download at this location.

Always diverse, always intriguing, the Roadburn lineup continues to expand its horizons and those of anyone lucky enough to get tickets. Word just came down the wire of San Franciscan metallers Castle being added. Check it out below, followed by their new video for the song “Corpse Candles” from their Van Records sophomore outing, Blacklands. Right on:

San Francisco’s Castle bringing “true” metal to Roadburn 2013

Like your metal chunky? Full of old-school doomy riffs? So do we! That’s why we’re really happy to announce that San Francisco’s metal juggernaut Castle have been confirmed for the Roadburn festival on Thursday, April 18th at the 013 venue in Tilburg, Holland.

Signed to Ván Records, Castle have created quite a buzz with their energetic live shows and their extremely well-reviewed albums “In Witch Order” and “Blacklands”. The lineup is a classic power trio comprised of bassist/vocalist Elizabeth Blackwell, guitarist (and occasional vocalist) Mat Davis and drummer Al McCartney. Their churning, roiling metal is filled with intensely catchy riffs framed by memorable songwriting and delivered with gusto and true metal panache.

Mostly delving into mid-tempo, heavy headbanging territory, Castle are anything but an anachronistic throwback band. Instead, they take the classic sound of doomy metal and infuse it with creativity and relentless drive to create a vital and unstoppable onslaught of chunky riffs, catchy hooks and bludgeoning energy that reminds us of the metal we grew up worshipping, but in an undeniably contemporary way.

Celebrate the pure joy of real metal with Castle at the Roadburn festival, you will find us in the front row headbanging like we used to do in our bedrooms when we were 13!

If you’re reading this and you celebrate either the Jesus-in-Christmas or the secularized Xmas, then chances are congratulations are in order: You’ve made it through another one. The Patient Mrs. and I got back a little bit ago from the last of the familial hoedowns, and with that, an episode of Iron Chef America and our collected loot strewn about the place in Roman-style excess, the evening seems to have come to a conclusion. I hope you had a good one.

Since Friday was my office party and — class act that I am — I got loaded early, I never officially closed out the week, and I thought some Blue Cheer would be the way to go. In the car up to Connecticut and back yesterday and today it was Deep Purple, Sungrazer, Warning and Kyuss, but holiday Cheer is about as close as I get to holiday cheer, so I hope you enjoy it. I haven’t drooled over Outsideinside in a couple weeks anyway, so I’m due.

If you’re in the US and don’t have to work tomorrow, I hope your weekend continues to be excellent and that you get to relax a bit before having to cram five days’ worth of work into four the rest of this week. If Xmas isn’t in line with either your belief system, you’re celebrating Hanukkah, Lemmy‘s birthday, something else or nothing at all, I hope you had a good weekend whatever it may have entailed.

Along with a shit-ton of laundry, tomorrow I’m going to try to make my way through reviewing the new BeenObscene album, and this week I’ll have Six Dumb Questions with guitarist/graphic artist Scott Stearns of the recently-reviewed Bibilic Blood and the semi-recently-reviewed Morbid Wizard, as well as, I think some new music from Dwellers, who were reviewed just a couple days ago. Very timely around here all of a sudden.

In any case, much fun to come this week, so please, stay tuned. In the meantime, see you on the forum and back here tomorrow for more good times.

Although still centered around the guitars of Evan Caminiti and Jon Porras, the second album from San Francisco’s Barn Owl through Thrill Jockey finds the duo beginning to further branch out of themselves. Lost in the Glare maintains the heady soundscapes of its predecessor, 2010’s Ancestral Star, but revels in deceptively complex “minimalism” that includes manipulated cassettes, bass clarinet, and (gasp!) drums, which serve as well-placed landmarks for the full-length’s eight tracks. There are still plenty of stretches where it’s just Caminiti and Porras, but the deviation from that formula is what gives Lost in the Glare its character, which nestles somewhere between Hex-era Earth’s Americana and the ethereal inaccessibility of SunnO)))’s amplifier overload. Barn Owl place themselves in solid company sound-wise, and don’t so much innovate the notion of what drone is as add their personality to it – I acknowledge that might be splitting hairs, but what I mean is that as evocative as some of this material is, it’s that evocation that’s most particular to what Barn Owl does, rather than the sounds themselves. There are a lot of people who plug in guitars and sustain notes for unreasonable amounts of time, feed through effects and loops and build impossible tension and crescendos therefrom, but far fewer who do it as richly as does Barn Owl on Lost in the Glare.

Still, especially for the material on which Jacob Felix Heule contributes drums, the principal point of comparison is Earth. Naturally, those tracks – “Turiya,” “Midnight Tide,” and “Devotion II” most prominently, though gong washes show up on “Devotion I” as well along with tanpura courtesy of The Alps’ Michael Elrod – come off as more structured than some of the others, but even opener “Pale Star,” which is among the farther-ranging cuts on Lost in the Glare, has some sense of progression to it, and when the abrasive feedback cuts out with just under a minute left, there’s a sense that the song is over and what you’re hearing is a sustained conclusion. Such is the method by which the album teaches the listener how to read it. Barn Owl follow “Pale Star” with the aforementioned “Turiya” and move briskly through the song at a pace set by Heule, with Caminiti and Porras playing distinctly off each other rather than working in tandem to create a general wash as they did on the opener. It’s not fast by any stretch, but “Turiya” is one of the album’s most active moments, with Heule keeping time on the ride and adding tom flourishes to the midsection. With the gradual development of “Devotion I,” the lushness of “Pale Star” is affirmed. The song starts with echoing guitar and moves gracefully into psychedelic melodiousness; the gong and tanpura giving a classic Western feel to classically Eastern ideas. Caminiti and Porras don’t so much step aside for Elrod as they did on “Turiya” for Heule’s drumming, but the fluidity of the former’s contribution and punctuating nature of the latter’s add to the overall versatility of the droning. It’s as peaceful as it is complex.

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Like a lot of people, I feel safe saying one of the heaviest live shows I’ve ever seen was a Black Cobra show. Unlike a lot of people, I can say the gig took place in a shoe museum. Yup, that’s right: a shoe museum. As in a museum… for shoes. Wanna know something else? Torche played too.

I was in Los Angeles on a pseudo-business trip, and in between squandering my savings at Amoeba Records and eating the best Mexican food I’d ever had, I caught wind of Black Cobra being in town. Can’t say it was much of a surprise, since Black Cobra‘s reputation for touring so damn much is well earned and they can pretty much pop up anywhere at any time, but when I walked into the place and saw the shoes belonging to former and/or dead A-list celebrities, well yeah, it felt a little surreal.

That was 2006. Black Cobra had just released their first album, Bestial, and were really just starting to amass their cred as a live band. Since that time, they’ve put out three more records — the latest being the stellar Invernal (review here) on Southern Lord — and have come to be recognized as one of the most brutal acts in their generation of Heavy. They’re outclassed by none in terms of performance, and for being comprised solely of guitarist/vocalist Jason Landrian and drummer Rafa Martinez, their presence is staggering.

Invernal was produced by Converge guitarist Kurt Ballou in his Godcity Recording Studio in what Landrian reveals was a matter of days; even fewer than either the band or the respected engineer/mixer thought going into the project. The album is righteous in its intensity and focus, and working from Antarctic themes lyrically and musically, comprises some of the most pummeling Black Cobra material to date. To be blunt, they’ve outdone themselves, and as much as they’re known for being a live band more than a studio band, Invernal deals any such characterizations a decisive blow.

From his home in foggy San Francisco, Landrian took my call and discussed working with Ballou and what his and Martinez‘s time at Godcity was like, their upcoming tour with Kyuss Lives! and The Sword (I went right for the hard-hitting questions on that one, as you’ll see), the thematics at play with Invernal, how he and Martinez work together in the studio and on the road, and much more.

Complete Q&A is after the jump. Please enjoy.

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Technically speaking, I don’t think I’m cool enough to even talk about bands like this, but the echoing tones of San Franciscan duo Barn Owl nonetheless get suitable visual accompaniment in the new video for the track “Turiya,” so I figured I’d post it. The song comes from Barn Owl‘s new album on Thrill Jockey, Lost in the Glare, which — by some bizarre cosmic coincidence — happens to come out today, Sept. 13. Imagine that.

Here’s the clip, directed by John Davis:

Tonight I was supposed to go to the ball game in hopes of seeing a certain shortstop get his 3,000th hit (being a numbers guy myself, I can appreciate that), but it got rained out. My backup was to catch Sourvein and Kings Destroy in Brooklyn, but by the time I’d driven back to Jersey from The Bronx, well, I’d already driven to The Bronx and back, and Brooklyn‘s even harder to get to, so my motivation was pretty much dead. I’ve no doubt all parties will survive and the show will go/has gone on despite my absence. If you went, I hope you had a good time. I hung around the house and failed at several endeavors in succession. Most you lose. Some you win.

I wanted to close out this week with something modern, melodically satisfying and heavy as all hell, and the 17-minute “We Can” from Grayceon‘s All We Destroy fits all those bills perfectly. In the interest of honesty, I’ll confess that I’m not listening to it as I write this — as is my usual habit — instead streaming the new Sungrazer album for the umpteenth time on the Dutch 3voor12 site, which you might recognize as being where all those Roadburn audio links lead.

Yesterday I talked with guitarist/vocalist Mike Scheidt from YOB — whose new album, Atma, was reviewed Wednesday — for about 50 minutes, from which I’ll put a Q&A together hopefully in the next week or two. The plan is to take pictures at their NYC show Tuesday and use them with the feature, but you never know, a piano might fall on my head. If one does, the interview’s done anyway. It was killer.

Next week, I’ll have a review of that show, plus new albums from Ramesses and Borgo Pass, among others. Next Friday is also the Truckfighters gig at the Cake Shop in NYC where if you tell them you read The Obelisk, you get in for free. More info on that is here, but the short version is it’s a pretty sweet deal, and I hope one you’ll take advantage of if you’re in the area. Next week I’m also going to go back and revisit the top albums list from last year and see how it holds up. That’ll be fun. Maybe just for me, but fun all the same.

Alright, now the Sungrazer‘s over and I’m listening to Grayceon. No regrets. Wherever you are, have a great and safe weekend. See you on the forum and back here Monday with a track from The Brought Low‘s new EP and other goodies.

On the back of the self-released debut from San Francisco post-doomers Nero Order, there’s written the following: “There is sustenance and there is death. Beyond this, nothing is for everyone. Do not mistake familiarity for cohesion. He who draws a line does not necessarily do so for want of the ability to create a circle. There is the wheel and there is the road. This is our will.” It’s a far cry from Type O Negative’s “Don’t mistake lack of talent for genius” from the back of Bloody Kisses, but apparently, Nero Order, whose four-track/54-minute full-length is called The Tower, have a lot to say. Indeed, the four-piece, which formed in 2006, is virtually clawing at “the epic” from the get-go. From that on the back of the digipak to “All of nature is restored by fire,” quoted inside, to the fact that the shortest song on The Tower, “Celebration of a Wounding,” checks in at nine minutes and the longest is nearly twice that, Nero Order’s ambition seems limited only by how much a disc and a listener’s attention will hold. Joined by Oxbow and literature’s own Eugene S. Robinson for third cut, “Every Pillar and its Crumbling,” the band seems all the more geared toward the grand.

That has its ups and downs, like everything. Anyone who’s ever heard Napalm Death knows a 30-second song can be an epic and that mere track length doesn’t determine anything more than a band’s ability to interconnect and/or repeat parts. The Tower at times has that part-collection feel to some of its songs, and somewhat ironically, it’s “Celebration of a Wounding,” which follows opener “Signs of Five” (11:21), that affects the most cohesive build. While much of the other material follows the post-hardcore/post-metal (whatever genre you want to stick these guys in, they’re post-it) ethic of intellectualism in approach, it seems to do so at the expense of a structure. That’s not to say guitarist Harper doesn’t have an idea the path the tracks are taking – it’s not like Nero Order are just jamming out – but it’s hard to write a song that’s 11 minutes long and that still feels like a song. The Tower drifts into and out of fast and slow tempos, and vocalist Lindo adapts his voice from woeful shouting to semi-melodic clean singing accordingly, and though the vocals are well mixed, they sound dry and like they’d benefit from some reverb, to help accentuate the sonic space Nero Order are creating musically. The rhythm section of Hoyt on bass and Butler on drums has its work cut out for it in keeping up with the changes, but one expects if “slapping it together and rolling with it” was Nero Order’s thing to start with, The Tower would be a much different record.

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Bay Area foursome The Burial Tide specialize in sludge-laden crushing atmospherics, choosing to slow down the likes of Sleep and Eyehategod and complement with synth noise and samples rather than bite off the same Neurosis/Isis line that an endless string of bands seems to want to pretend they just thought of, like, right now. Their debut demo (their demobut, if you’d prefer) is self-titled and was produced by Brainoil‘s Gregg Wilkinson at Earhammer Studio.

Their pacing and their tonality might be familiar, at least to those who’ve felt Sunn and Orange amps vibrate their chest cavity at close range, but The Burial Tide‘s noisy side brings with it an air of individualism and artistry that suits the band well over the course of The Burial Tide‘s two component tracks, “Wayfarer” and “Prophets and Shadows.” The latter cut seems to deteriorate rather than close, and the former keeps a suitable balance between the crushing riffs, harsh vocals and the ambient edge.

They’ve got the social networking spectrum pretty much covered, all the more conveniently so with a page that seems to be specifically dedicated to letting you choose your adventure when it comes to getting in touch with and/or hearing their songs, but because it’s easily accessible and because I can, here’s all of The Burial Tide‘s The Burial Tide, streaming from their Bandcamp page:

It was four years ago, so you’ll have to forgive me if I can’t remember just what it was that struck me as so problematic about cello-laden San Francisco three-piece Grayceon’s 2007 self-titled first album. I vaguely recall thinking the band were too smart for their own good, taking the tropes of doom and exploiting them while also somehow pretentiously positioning themselves above them intellectually. Or maybe I’m making that up and I just thought the songs sucked. I really don’t know. Whatever it was, it was enough to keep me away from 2008’s This Grand Show (released, like the first record, on Vendlus), and as Grayceon make their Profound Lore label debut with All We Destroy, and I revisit the trio’s sound – obviously developed some in the intervening time – it’s a mixture both intriguing and tight-knit. The cello of Jackie Perez Gratz (who has guested for Agalloch, Neurosis and Cattle Decapitation, and who also plays in Giant Squid) features heavily, counterbalanced by the guitar of Max Doyle and drums of Zack Farwell, both also of the thrash outfit Walken.

Gratz and Doyle contribute vocals to All We Destroy, though mostly the former, and Grayceon moves into and through different modes of heaviness as the six tracks play out. Second cut “Shellmounds” finds Farwell ripping through black metal blastbeats (cleverly mixed so as to not dominate Gratz’s overlying vocals), and opener “Dreamer Deceived” takes churning post-metal riffage and puts the onus on a vocal narrative and the varying atmosphere of the cello to stand Grayceon out, which, to the band’s credit, it does. Short cuts to quiet passages, interludes or whatever you’d want to call them, provide some respite from the crash, but there’s a tension in “Dreamer Deceived” that sets the tone for much of All We Destroy, and as Gratz and Doyle’s voices come together for combined semi-melodic chants, the experience is less that of a song than a performance. The diverse structures of the material – chorus-based but not necessarily chorus-dependent – feed that idea as well. Some background screaming (another black metal element to go with the drumming on “Shellmounds”) adds a glimpse of extremity, and the overall impression of the first two tracks is that while Grayceon have their feet in a variety of sounds, they feel no need to commit to one over the other. If you’re looking to pigeonhole them – as perhaps I was when I encountered their debut – they don’t make it easy.

“Shellmounds” has a satisfying linear build, made all the more effective by Doyle’s angular riff-work, but there’s no question that the meat of All We Destroy comes on with the staggering 17-minute “We Can.” Though it meanders some (how could it not?) with the metallic guitar at around eight minutes in, it’s Gratz’s most memorable vocal – the lines “As I live and breathe/You can’t save me” being especially chilling – and the point on All We Destroy where the band’s dynamic range most shines. An interplay of screams past the 10-minute mark reminds some of earlier Kylesa, but here, Grayceon are in territory all their own, and two minutes later, when they return to the huge central figure riff – the massive fucking plod of it – it’s as satisfying as the album gets, outshining the even-slower section that follows, Gratz running counter to Doyle and adding, true to the nature of her instrument, a melancholy and thoughtful feel to the song’s close. Honestly, “We Can” probably could have been the album itself and I’d still feel like I got my listen’s worth.

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Their version might not be as rockin’ as the one Puny Human did on Sucking the ’70s II, and they may not be doing anything sonically that Monster Magnet didn’t do 20 years ago (or Hawkwind 20 years before that) but San Franciscan space weirdos Lumerians made a cool video for their cover of The Osmonds‘ song “Crazy Horses,” which they redubbed in the French “Chevaux Fous,” and I figured what the hell. For its visual oddness alone, it’s worth the two and a half minutes it takes to watch.