Costa Rican death sludge four-piece VoidOath are set to issue their first full-length, Ascension Beyond Kokytus, Sept. 30 through Cursed Monk Records and Cognitive Discordance Records. The project bears relation to the likewise-longform Crypt Monarch in guitarist/vocalist Christopher G. De Haan (who may or may not have also produced) and guitarist Jose Rodríguez, as well as Age of the Wolf in De Haan and drummer Gabriel Ortiz — VoidOath is completed by bassist Allan Salas — and the album follows 2020’s debut EP, Illumination Through Necromancy, which was one of any number of gruesome death-doom-infused offerings that, in that wretched year, felt just right for the moment being lived. And so I’m not just parroting PR wire info at you that you can read for yourself in blue below, Ascension Beyond Kokytus is a horror narrative lyrically, though to be perfectly honest, these songs could be about sunshine and puppies and rainbows and if they sounded like this, that’d probably still be true.
And with that bit of context out of the way, let us now consume rot. Don’t be fooled by the bit of brighter progressive flourish in the opening riff of “From Gods to Morsels (Destruction)” as the album rounds out, VoidOath are here for death. De Haan‘s vocals are either gut-born growls or far back shouts, and they occur in such a mire of low-wash tone that even when the band are playing fast — which they do from time to time across the five-song/49-minute offering — it’s hard to tell just how much the song is actually moving. Maybe that’s an exaggeration as the 15-minute opener and longest track (immediate points) “Orion-Cygnus Descent (Arrival)” launches into blasts and stretches of abyssal churning, but Ascension Beyond Kokytus is nothing if not exaggerated, pulling elements of sludge, atmospheres of filth-coated slow death metal and just an edge of post-metallic drone to coincide into their particular sphere of cohesive extremity. There is purpose to the music beyond backing the story being told lyrically, and as “Festered Sepsis Lacerations (Assimilation)” (premiering below) crushes as the most straight-ahead death metal inclusion — shades of un-Egyptified Nile, Incantation, etc. — the overarching groove would be a lifeline were it not the very undercurrent pulling you continually downward.
The last, let’s say dying, distortion of “Festered Sepsis Lacerations (Assimilation)” leads to a brief centerpiece interlude in “A Flare in Emptiness” — it could easily have been the start of the subsequent “Alabaster Ruminations (Isolation)” and I suspect from its placement and title that its use as a bridge from one half of the tracklist to the other is a momentary, almost subconscious, break from the onslaught — and the inhale before VoidOath dive back in is welcome. Vague speech, either sampled or not, tops the initial rollout of “Alabaster Ruminations (Isolation),” and what emerges after is noisier and less generally hinged, but ultimately settles after about the eight-minute mark into a steadier push, soon topped with high-blood-pressure leads and an interplay of higher throatrippers and low growls — the harmony of decay — before giving way suddenly to the aforementioned riff to “From Gods to Morsels (Destruction)” and its reassertion of marching bludgeonry. Some gallop, some push, but the balance is decisive and the judgment is harsh as VoidOath work toward setting up the all-out force of the last five or so minutes, moving from crash-cymbal-driven lumbering to start-stop hits, to squibbly gallop, a build of intensity (ha!) and a last fade of residual noise, like the threat moving away at last.
Imagine being picked up by some very, very large hand and squeezed until your ribs break and entrails come spewing out of your various orifices like so much chunky juice from a piece of fruit. So it is that VoidOath execute their debut album.
Kokytus, in Greek mythology, is one of the five rivers surrounding Hades. It is safe to assume that in ascending beyond it, one is well and truly fucked.
“Festered Sepsis Lacerations (Assimilation)” premieres below. Enjoy if you can:
Cognitive Discordance Records, in conspiracy with Cursed Monk Records, is proud to announce the debut full-length of Costa Rica’s abysmal sludge conjurers VoidOath. Titled Ascension Beyond Kokytus, the horror-themed conceptual album will be out on 30 September 2022. For the American release, Cognitive Discordance Records (Costa Rica) is issuing a limited run of Jewel Case CDs; for the UK/European release, Cursed Monk Records (Ireland) is releasing a limited edition of digipak CDs.
The dark, heavy and melt-inducing sound of VoidOath is the outcome of their approach to illustrate diverse horror works in a disturbing, frantic and distorted way. Their first EP, Illumination Through Necromancy, released in May 2020, was well received. The San José doom monstrosity VoidOath is now poised to reveal Ascension Beyond Kokytus, their first full-length release, deep within the cold, frost and blood in the farthest and isolated regions on the planet. Ascension Beyond Kokytus is based on John W. Campbell Jr’s Who Goes There? (Frozen Hell) and its adaptation of John Carpenter’s film The Thing (1982). Dwelling on deep feelings of fear, despair, loneliness and horror, the album drowns its listener in seamlessly endless waves of crushing violence and noise.
Track Listing: 01. Orion-Cygnus Descent (Arrival) (15:45) 02. Festered Sepsis Lacerations (Assimilation) (6:31) 03. A Flare in Emptiness (0:31) 04. Alabaster Ruminations (Isolation) (13:23) 05. From Gods to Morsels (Destruction) (12:52)
Produced, mixed and mastered by A Cabin in the Woods Recordings (Crypt Monarch, Engraved). Artwork by Nataly Nikitina. Layout by Cerrabuz.
—BAND LINEUP— Christopher De Haan – Guitars, Vocals Gabriel Ortiz – Drums Jose Rodríguez – Guitars, Synths Allan Salas – Bass
I don’t know what day it is. The holiday here in the States has me all screwed up. I know it’s not the weekend anymore because I’m posting today, but really, if this is for Tuesday or Wednesday, I’m kind of at a loss. What I do know is that it’s 10 more records, and some quick math at the “71-80” below — which, yes, I put there ahead of time when I set up the back end of these posts so hopefully I don’t screw it up; it’s a whole fucking process; never ask me about it unless you want to be so bored at by the telling that your eyeballs explode — tells me today Wednesday, so I guess I figured it out. Hoo-ray.
Three quarters of the way through, which feels reasonably fancy. And today’s a good one, too. I hope as always that you find something you dig. Now that I know what day it is, I’m ready to start.
Quarterly Review #71-80:
MWWB, The Harvest
It’s difficult to separate MWWB‘s The Harvest from the fact that it might be the Welsh act’s final release, as frontwoman Jessica Ball explained here. Their synth-laced cosmic doom certainly deserves to keep going if it can, but on the chance not, The Harvest suitably reaps the fruit of the progression the band began to undertake with 2015’s Nachthexen (review here), their songs spacious despite the weight of their tones and atmospheric even at their most dense. Proggy instrumental explorations like “Let’s Send These Bastards Whence They Came” and “Interstellar Wrecking” and the semi-industrial, vocals-also-part-of-the-ambience “Betrayal” surround the largesse of the title-track, “Logic Bomb,” the especially lumbering “Strontium,” and so on, and “Moon Rise” caps with four and a half minutes of voice-over-guitar-and-keys atmospherics, managing to be heavy even without any of the usual trappings thereof. If this is it, what a run they had, both when they were Mammoth Weed Wizard Bastard and with this as their potential swansong.
Look. Maybe it’s a fan-piece, but screw it, I’m a fan. And as someone who liked the second run of Corrosion of Conformity‘s Animosity-era lineup, this previously-unreleased LP from the three-piece that included C.O.C. bassist/vocalist Mike Dean and drummer/vocalist Reed Mullin (R.I.P.), as well as guitarist/vocalist Jason Browning, is only welcome. I remember when they put out the single on Southern Lord in 2010, you couldn’t really get a sense of what the band was about, but there’s so much groove in these songs — I’m looking right at you, “Hard Time Killing Floor” — that it’s that much more of a bummer the three-piece didn’t do anything else. Of course, Mullin rejoining Dean in C.O.C. wasn’t a hardship either, but especially in the aftermath of his death last year, it’s bittersweet to hear his performances on these songs and a collection of tracks that have lost none of their edge for the decade-plus they’ve sat on a shelf or hard drive somewhere. Call it a footnote if you want, but the songs stand on their own merits, and if you’re going to tell me you’ve never wanted to hear Dean sing “The Green Manalishi (With the Two-Pronged Crown),” then I think you and I are just done speaking for right now.
Seven Nines and Tens, Over Opiated in a Forest of Whispering Speakers
I agree, it’s a very long album title. And the band name is kind of opaque in a kind of opaque way. Double-O-paque. And the art by Ahmed Emad Eldin (Pink Floyd, etc.) is weird. All of this is true. But I’m going to step outside the usual review language here, and instead of talking about how Vancouver post-noise rock trio Seven Nines and Tens explore new melodic and atmospheric reaches while still crushing your rib cage on their first record for the e’er tastemaking Willowtip label, I’m just going to tell you listen. Really. That’s it. If you consider yourself someone with an open mind for music that is progressive in its artistic substance without conforming necessarily to genre, or if you’re somebody who feels like heavy music is tired and can’t connect to the figurative soul, just press play on the Bandcamp embed and see where you end up on the other side of Over Opiated in a Forest of Whispering Speakers‘ 37 minutes. Even if it doesn’t change your life, shaking you to your very core and giving you a new appreciation for what can be done on a level of craft in music that’s still somehow extreme, just let it run and then take a breath afterward, maybe get a drink of water, and take a minute to process. I wrote some more about the album here if you want the flowery whathaveyou, but really, don’t bother clicking that link. Just listen to the music. That’s all you need.
In March 2021, T.G. Olson, best known as the founding guitarist/vocalist for Across Tundras, released a self-titled solo album (review here). He’s had a slew of offerings out since — as he will; Olson is impossible to keep up with but one does one’s best — but II would seem to be a direct follow-up to that full-length’s declarative purpose, continuing and refining the sometimes-experimentalist, sometimes purposefully traditional folk songwriting and self-recording exploration Olson began (publicly, at least) a decade ago. Several of II‘s cuts feature contributions from Caleb R.K. Williams, but Olson‘s ability to build a depth of mix — consider the far-back harmonica in “Twice Gone” and any number of other flourishes throughout — is there regardless, and his voice is as definitively human as ever, wrought with a spirit of Americana and a wistfulness for a West that was wild not for its guns but the buffalo herds you could see from space and an emotionalism that makes the lyrics of “Saddled” seem all the more personal, whether or not they are, or the lines in “Enough Rope” that go, “Always been a bit of a misanthrope/Never had a healthy way to cope,” and don’t seem to realize that the song itself is the coping.
Issued on limited blue vinyl through StoneFly Records, Freebase Hyperspace‘s first full-length, Planet High, is much more clearheaded in its delivery than the band would seem to want you to think. Sure, it’s got its cosmic echo in the guitar and the vocals and so on, but beneath that are solidified grooves shuffling, boogieing and underscoring even the solo-fueled jam-outs on “Golden Path” and “Introversion” with a thick, don’t-worry-we-got-this vibe. The band is comprised of vocalist Ayrian Quick, guitarist Justin Acevedo, bassist Stephen Moore and drummer Peter Hurd, and they answer 2018’s Activation Immediate not quite immediately but with fervent hooks and a resonant sense of motion. It’s from Portland, and it’s a party, but Planet High upends expectation in its bluesy vocals, in its moments of drift and in the fact that “Cat Dabs” — whatever that means, I don’t even want to look it up — is an actual song rather than a mess of cult stoner idolatries, emphasizing the niche being explored. And just because it bears mentioning, heavy rock is really, really white. More BIPOC and diversity across the board only makes the genre richer. But even those more general concerns aside, this one’s a stomper.
Not calling out other reviews (they exist; I haven’t read any), but any writeup about Melt Motif‘s debut album, A White Horse Will Take You Home, that doesn’t include the word “sultry” is missing something. Deeply moody on “Sleep” and the experimental-sounding “Black Hole” and occasionally delving into that highly-processed ’90s guitar sound that’s still got people working off inspiration from Nine Inch Nails‘ The Downward Spiral even if they don’t know it — see the chugs of “Mine” and “Andalusian Dog” for clear examples — the nine-track/37-minute LP nonetheless oozes sex across its span, such that even the sci-fi finale “Random Access Memory” holds to the theme. The band span’s from São Paulo, Brazil, to Bergen, Norway, and is driven by Rakel‘s vocals, Kenneth Rasmus Greve‘s guitar, synth and programming, and Joe Irente‘s bass, guitar, more synth and more programming. Together, they are modern industrial/electrionica in scope, the record almost goth in its theatrical pruning, and there’s some of the focus on tonal heft that one finds in others of the trio’s ilk, but Melt Motif use slower pacing and harder impacts as just more toys to be played with, and thus the album is deeply, repeatedly listenable, the clever pop structures and the clarity of the production working as the bed on which the entirety lays in waiting repose for those who’d take it on.
Moongazer is the second full-length from Bologna, Italy-based heavy psychedelic blues rockers Tenebra, and a strong current of vintage heavy rock runs through it that’s met head-on by the fullness of the production, by which I mean that “Cracked Path” both reminds of Rainbow — yeah that’s right — and doesn’t sound like it’s pretending it’s 1973. Or 1993, for that matter. Brash and raucous on its face, the nine-song outing proves schooled in both current and classic heavy, and though “Winds of Change” isn’t a Scorpions cover, its quieter take still offers a chance for the band to showcase the voice of Silvia, whose throaty, push-it-out delivery becomes a central focus of the songs, be it the Iommic roll of “Black Lace” or the shuffling closer “Moon Maiden,” which boasts a guest appearance from Screaming Trees‘ Gary Lee Conner, or the prior “Dark and Distant Sky,” which indeed brings the dark up front and the distance in its second, more psych-leaning second half. All of this rounds out to a sound more geared toward groove than innovation, but which satisfies in that regard from the opening guitar figure of “Heavy Crusher” onward, a quick nod to desert rock there en route to broader landscapes.
Doom Lab, IV: Ever Think You’re Smart... And Then Find Out That You Aren’t?
With a drum machine backing, Doom Lab strums out riffs over the 16 mostly instrumental tracks of the project’s fourth demo since February of this year, Doom Lab IV: Ever Think You’re Smart... And Then Find Out That You Aren’t?, a raw, sometimes-overmodulated crunch of tone lending a garage vibe to the entire procession. On some planet this might be punk rock, and maybe tucked away up in Anchorage, Alaska, it’s not surprising that Doom Lab would have a strange edge to their craft. Which they definitely do. “Clockwork Home II (Double-Thick Big Bottom End Dub)” layers in bass beneath a droning guitar, and “Diabolical Strike (w/ False Start)” is a bonus track (with vocals) that’s got the line, “You’ll think that everything is cool but then I’ll crush your motherfucking soul,” so, you know, it’s like that. Some pieces are more developed than others, as “Deity Skin II” has some nuanced layering of instrumentation, but in the harsh high end of “Spiral Strum to Heaven II” and the mostly-soloing “Infernal Intellect II,” Doom Lab pair weirdo-individualism with an obvious creative will. Approach with caution, because some of Doom Lab‘s work is really strange, but that’s clearly the intention from the start.
What you see is what you get in the sometimes manic, sometimes blissed-out, sometimes punk, sometimes fluid, always rocking Medicine by White Fuzzy Bloodbath, which hearkens to a day when the universe wasn’t defined by internet-ready subgenre designations and a band like this San Jose three-piece had a chance to be signed to Atlantic, tour the universe, and eventually influence other outcasts in their wake. Alas, props to White Fuzzy Bloodbath‘s Elise Tarens — joined in the band by Alex Bruno and Jeff Hurley — for the “Interlude” shout, “We’re White Fuzzy Bloodbath and the world has no fucking idea!” before the band launch into the duly raw “Chaos Creator.” Songs like “Monster,” “Beep-Bop Lives” and “Still” play fast and loose with deceptively technical angular heavy rock, and even the eight-minute title-track that rounds out before the cover of Beastie Boys‘ “Sabotage” refuses to give in and be just one thing. And about that cover? Well, not every experiment is going to lead to gold, but it’s representative on the whole of the band’s bravery to take on an iconic track like that and make their own. Not nearly everybody would be so bold.
With the vocal melody in its resonant hook, the lead guitar line that runs alongside and the thickened verse progression that complements, Secret Iris almost touch on Euro-style melancholic doom with the title-track of their debut 7″, What Are You Waiting For, but the Phoenix, Arizona, three-piece are up to different shenanigans entirely on the subsequent “Extrasensory Rejection (Winter Sanctuary),” which is faster, more punk, and decisively places them in a sphere of heavy grunge. Both guitarist Jeffrey Owens (ex-Goya) and bassist Tanner Grace (Sorxe) contribute vocals, while drummer Matt Arrebollo (Gatecreeper) is additionally credited with “counseling,” and the nine-minutes of the mini-platter first digitally issued in 2021 beef up a hodgepodge of ’90s and ’00s rock and punk, from Nirvana grunge to Foo Fighters accessibility, Bad Religion‘s punk and rock and a slowdown march after the break in the midsection that, if these guys were from the Northeast, I’d shout as a Life of Agony influence. Either way, it moves, it’s heavy, it’s catchy, and just the same, it manages not to make a caricature of its downer lyrics. The word I’m looking for is “intriguing,” and the potential for further intrigue is high.
Posted in Questionnaire on November 16th, 2021 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: David Wachsman of SÖNUS
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
I’d define what I do as basically trying to create my ultimate band; a mix between Black Sabbath, Hawkwind, The Stooges, Motörhead, Monster Magnet, etc. I discovered Hawkwind through falling in love with Motörhead; a few trips (in the chemical sense) around the cosmos later and I would forever be a convert. Space Rock, Stoner Rock, Psychedelic Rock, Heavy Metal, Rock N’ Roll, perhaps touch of Chaos Magick… Call it what you will, but as far as I’m concerned, I just want to take the noises I hear in my head and share them with all you lovely people!
I came to it by being introduced to Rock and Roll by my father before I was even born. It was planted like a seed in my psyche when I was just a little bit more than a seed myself, and it grew with me as I grew. This incredible music, the unfathomable power of it! One day my mom gave me an electric guitar and an amp for Christmas and well… here’s the result of that decision all these years later — the gift that keeps on giving! I taught myself how to play, developed my style, dabbled in a few bands and projects and put it aside to finish my degree until one day the whole world closed down and I had nothing but time… and so my first (and upcoming second) albums came to be!
Describe your first musical memory.
My first musical memory is hearing my Dad play Led Zeppelin on one of his many post-divorce weekend visits with me. I don’t know how old I was exactly, but aside from playing them for me in the womb, my dad would always bring a few albums to listen to on the long drive up to San Francisco where I’d stay with him every other weekend as a kid. What can I say, it was quite formative! As I grew he would introduce me to more and more amazing bands that would coalesce into my taste in music; Black Sabbath, Pink Floyd, AC/DC, Ozzy, Blue Öyster Cult, etc., etc.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
Perhaps my best musical memory (and I’ve been fortunate enough to have quite a few great ones) was meeting Nik Turner of Hawkwind before a club show he played in San Francisco. As he shook my hand he asked me what song I hoped to hear that night, to which I replied “Ejection!” He smiled and thanked me for coming and then walked away to get ready for the show — I was awestruck! But it doesn’t end there… As they played their electrifying set of classic Hawkwind Space Ritual-era tracks, I was moshing with this middle aged man who was clearly an old school punk by the way he was thrashing around. He was a nice guy, we were singing, grinning, and moshing along with each other for some time.
At a certain point in the set he put his arm around my shoulder and said “Hey man, what do you want them to play?!” I replied with “Ejection!” To which he assured me that he had heard they weren’t playing that one on this tour. It wasn’t really disappointing as I loved all their songs anyway (and I do mean all — Hawkwind is nearly a religion for me). Well, wouldn’t you know it but just as that middle-aged punk got done telling me they weren’t playing “Ejection,” from the stage Nik Turner says “…and now I’d like to introduce my friend Jello Biafra to the stage…” and so the old punk turned to me and smiled before rushing to the stage!
I shook Nik Turner’s hand, and moshed with freakin’ Jello Biafra! AND they played a goddamn incendiary version of “Ejection!” It almost seems like a fantasy, but it happened! To make that night more legendary — I had just recovered from an inner ear injury which had me bedridden with intense vertigo for a month about a week before the concert; being so discombobulated, I managed to headbang so hard that night that I gave myself whiplash and a minor concussion from rocking out so goddamned hard. To this day I still say it’s well worth the occasional neck pain and tension headaches for that absolutely legendary experience; I’m just glad I was able to remember it given the concussion!
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
My mother raised me as a Christian until I finally accepted that I was an atheist, or an agnostic at age 16, much to my father’s relief. She took me to church every Sunday, and I went to the youth group where I befriended a very sweet and kind girl who was six years older than me. She dated a boy from the church who was two years older than her. They gave talks about practicing abstinence… of course it was inevitable that one day she was brought before the congregation to announce that she was a filthy sinner, and that she had given into lust and had become pregnant.
Now, the boy was not brought up to face the scorn of the congregation with her, mind you, he was seated uncomfortably with his head hung in shame on a pew on the other side of the church. I watched this kind girl cry and plead for forgiveness — for the restoration of her soul — for salvation from the fires of hell. I saw in her eyes the shame, the fear, the self-disgust. I saw the judgement and a peculiar sense of what I later realized was conniving joy in the eyes of those around me — they loved every salacious second of it. They loved the way it made them feel morally superior to sit in judgement of this young girl as if they sat on the very throne of god himself. I thought, is this the mercy of Christ? Is this the love of god? And of course, that’s when they sent the donation baskets around… That’s when it all clicked in my young mind and I learned a truth about the relationship between human nature and power that I would not forget.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
Hopefully to new sources of inspiration and fulfillment weaving into a sense of pride and satisfaction in what you’ve managed to create. Hopefully people will take interest in the unknown and the uncomfortable; hopefully they will appreciate the challenge and join you for the journey, but as long as you believe with conviction that you are pursuing your art and expression, then you can and must go, perhaps alone if need be, into the uncharted reaches of your imagination and the very limits of your capabilities and there you must batter down the walls that seek to hold you in and limit you, time and time again.
How do you define success?
Being able to live a life of contentment and relative comfort with those you love. Inner peace in the face of outer turmoil. Remaining uncompromising in your art.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
I’ve seen a few disturbing sights in my time. Before turning to music, I studied as an Archaeologist and Anthropologist; I’ve worked around California as well as Ecuador and Ireland, and I’ve been fortunate to have the opportunity to travel around a fair amount. I’ve seen the ways in which people live in affluence and in poverty, I’ve seen the ways in which people are exploited or abused by governments and business interests both foreign and domestic. I’ve seen life, death, joy, and sadness and I would not wish away any of it as each experience, pleasant or unpleasant, contained a lesson.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
I’d really like to one day write some short stories; sci-fi, sword and sorcery, horror — I have a deep love for those genres as is obvious to anyone who’s ever listened to my music. I think that’d be a lot of fun, and it’d be great to expand upon certain ideas I’ve had lying around for years.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
Art is the expression of an individual’s soul — the attempt to encapsulate a fragment of the totality of their being. A landmark in time proclaiming your existence. A rebellion against the anonymity forced upon us by the unstoppable march of the ages, and perhaps one of the few good things to manifest from the ego.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
Seeing the ways in which our society is altered (hopefully for the better) after the fallout of this pandemic, hopefully seeing the nations of the world work together to combat the many forces that threaten our continued existence. But barring that, I’m looking forward to the Next Michael Moorcock Elric novel to read as the world either slides deeper into the shit, perhaps actually improves its condition, or merely limps along into the next era with all of the requisite hopes and horrors therein, after this dark period.
The ongoing nature of the COVID-19 pandemic, the varied responses of publics and governments worldwide, and the disruption to lives and livelihoods has reached a scale that is unprecedented. Whatever the month or the month after or the future itself brings, more than one generation will bear the mark of having lived through this time, and art, artists, and those who provide the support system to help uphold them have all been affected.
In continuing the Days of Rona feature, it remains pivotal to give a varied human perspective on these events and these responses. It is important to remind ourselves that whether someone is devastated or untouched, sick or well, we are all thinking, feeling people with lives we want to live again, whatever renewed shape they might take from this point onward. We all have to embrace a new normal. What will that be and how will we get there?
Thanks to all who participate. To read all the Days of Rona coverage, click here. — JJ Koczan
Days of Rona: Jeff Wilson of KOOK (Santa Clara County, California)
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How have you been you dealing with this crisis as a band? As an individual? What effect has it had on your plans or creative processes?
The band decided in mid-March to stop getting together…about the same time our county ordered us to shelter in place. We have members with co-morbidities and members who have to be in contact with the elderly, so it wasn’t really a choice.
For me personally, it has been an unusual experience, in that it’s been pretty normal. I have been a permanent remote employee for many years, and already work from home, and my work gets busier when the shit hits the fan in the world. My kids have been home from school, and we’ve been dealing with distance learning but they’re tech-savvy and in middle and high school, so we don’t have the kind of homeschooling nightmares some parents have. Feels a bit like the first half of summer… but with a lot more generalized anxiety and portents of doom.
On the “band plans” side, we had a two-week summer tour booked for June. Plainride was coming out to the West Coast from Germany and we were going to link up with them from southern California up to Seattle, and then we were adding some dates around the outside with Great Electric Quest and a bunch of other friends… so that’s a huge bummer. I was really looking forward to the whole thing. I always do.
For making new music… we’re in a weird spot. We have a close to an hour of material for III written, arranged, and rehearsed, and we have another four or five songs in various stages of development. We haven’t really been passing parts back and forth, because we’ve never really worked that way, but we’re going through individually and refining, reworking, and adding to the stuff we have written…we have good pre-production practice recordings of everything. For me it’s giving me the time to really carefully write some bass parts with no pressure to hurry. I also grabbed a MOOG sub25 synth right before lockdown and have a footpedal rigged up. We managed to use it a few times in practice and get a feel for what it adds, and it’s awesome…so now I get to live my dream of being Geddy Lee. I’m adding synth to different places in a way that I can actually pull off live. As soon as we know what the shelter-in-place situation is going to be like for the next few months… I suspect we’ll book some studio time.
How do you feel about the public response to the outbreak where you are? From the government response to the people around you, what have you seen and heard from others?
I have been very pleased with California, and Santa Clara County’s response. We were one of the very first counties in the nation to shelter in place, and it very much was the right choice. Some of the very first deaths in the country were right here, and a dad from my kid’s school (the same age as me) passed away in March. Right now in Santa Clara County, a county with two million residents that is the heart of Silicon Valley, we have 66 people hospitalized with coronavirus, and have recorded only 129 deaths. I’m a science and data guy… I get that people are facing real hardship, but the alternative is death… life has to win, right? 129 deaths are already too many, but most people here are taking the disease and shelter in place order very seriously. I’ve been obsessed with writing music about the end of the world since I was a teenager, but I have no interest in seeing it happen right now. The lockdown protests everywhere are insane and point to serious problems with culture, politics, race, and privilege in this country. I have a multi-hour rant about that, but I’ll spare the readers.
What do you think of how the music community specifically has responded? How do you feel during this time? Are you inspired? Discouraged? Bored? Any and all of it?
Creative people have to create, and I’ve seen some really great output and creativity. Jordan Olds and the 2 Minutes to Late Night crew are cranking out amazing covers. Our friend (and Karl’s godson) Lucust French of Burn Thee Insects went into the desert with a generator and tracked drums, and then came back and tracked the rest of a brand new song (with video) under the name of his solo project LAZER BEAM, it’s great. He livestreamed a bunch of it, and it sounds like he’s going to do some more. Mike Scheidt can continue serenading us with acoustic lullabies till the end of time in my opinion. Jeff Matz’ looped jams and the progress of his custom electric baglama is of great interest to me. It has been really good to be able to stay at least somewhat connected over the internet and social media. I’ve also been able to clean my friend list significantly based on the sharing of certain content and opinions (mostly wild conspiracy bullshit).
Bandcamp’s no-fees days have been great. I know artists that 100 percent make their living off of Bandcamp, and every penny helps. One day per month actually makes a big difference, because the community kept sharing and helping promote.
Who I really feel for is small venues, independent promoters, small tour bookers, and hustling multitaskers who make their living doing 50 jobs (playing in four bands, booking shows, doing live sound, engineering, tour driving/selling merch for other artists, etc.). The incredible amount of uncertainty they face, when many of them were already struggling in the best of times, is heartbreaking. It feels very likely that the large systems and governments that are trying to keep people afloat will just overlook live music (and art in general). I hope I’m wrong, and there have been a million fundraisers and government petitions floating around to raise money and awareness that I really hope have an impact.
What is the one thing you want people to know about your situation, either as a band, or personally, or anything? What is your new normal? What have you learned from this experience, about yourself, your band, or anything?
First I’ll just say I feel terrible for anyone directly touched by the virus; I know people who have lost friends and family members, and I’m sure most of you do too, and in the US at least, this is going to drag out for a long time. We’re fine and taking care of ourselves and each other. This will pass and we’ll still be here making weird music that confuses people and challenges eardrums. We miss each other, and we miss making music and playing it for people. For me, going to the studio and practicing is like going to the gym… no matter how shitty I feel before I go, I always feel great when we’re done. It’s similar to how I feel when I go see a great show… there’s always a kind of catharsis that comes with the end of a great set. The world is missing out on a whole lot of mood improvement and catharsis right now, at a time when it feels like we could use more of both.
Posted in Reviews on August 23rd, 2019 by JJ Koczan
Zed‘s vision of rock and roll is not polite. It is not about accommodation. It’s the kind of rock and roll that drinks both your beer and its own, is loud, goes late, and damns tomorrow because it had already damned today first. It’s the kind of rock and roll that might put a large black rooster on its album cover and let the dick joke make itself. It is, as they might put it on their latest offering, “The Other Kind.” Volume is the fourth full-length from the San Jose, California, four-piece, and sees their edge undiminished in their decade-plus tenure. As their alliance with Ripple Music enters its third release, with the label having stood behind 2016’s Trouble in Eden (review here) and a reissue earlier this year of 2013’s Desperation Blues (discussed here), it results in a collection running 10 tracks and 48 minutes of aggressively executed straightforward heavy rock with a broad foundation in punk, metal and classic rock; the amalgam well familiar to those who’ve followed Zed over their years.
In that regard, what ultimately distinguishes Volumeis the clarity with which it is delivered. The band’s lineup — guitarist/vocalist Peter Sattari, bassist Mark Aceves, guitarist Greg Lopez and drummer Sean Boyles — has never sounded so firm in their purpose, and while their songwriting acumen has always been central to their style, the material here feels tighter and even more purposeful than that of Trouble in Eden, and the energy in the band’s performance has never been so effectively captured. Credit at least in part for that needs to go to engineer Tim Narducci (also of The Watchers), with whom the band worked on part of the recording last time around as well as on Desperation Blues — their 2010 debut, The Invitation, was self-recorded — and who obviously gets what they’re going for. It’s right there in the name of the album: Volume. Zed are not trying to convey some grand concept in their sound unless that grand concept might be the largesse of their sound itself, and thus Volume becomes its own celebration of that intangible thing that rock and roll has celebrated since its first hijacked blues riff — a vitality that simply can’t be heard at anything less than a shout.
Broken neatly in half with a longer cut closing each side, Volume might also be stating itself as a recommendation to the audience, though I’m not certain that with Zed that really needs to be stated at this point. How else would one take on tracks like “The Other Kind,” “The End” or the shreddy side B highlight “The Great Destroyer” but as loud as possible? The choruses of the slowed-down “Wings of the Angel,” the side B leadoff “Chingus” (video posted here), and “Hollow Men,” on which Boyles seems to give his cymbals an extra-cruel beating, are certainly standouts, and even as “Wings of the Angel” or “Poison Tree” pull back on pace as compared to the thrust of “The Other Kind” or “The Great Destroyer,” there’s no letup in terms of efficiency in their craft.
“Poison Tree” is perhaps the catchiest of the bunch, which is no easy feat considering its surroundings, and as Zed expand the palette with some B3 on the penultimate “Time and Space” courtesy of Brad Barth, their central mission of song-driven, riff-led heavy remains steady through the extra flourish en route to the closer “The Troubadour,” which is the longest inclusion on Volume at 6:31 and finds the band taking more chances in terms of melody, layering vocals for a chorus effect to go with Sattari in a fashion that is every bit worthy of finishing out the record even though it runs counter to the harder-edged approach heard earlier. Airy leads and a legitimately soaring chorus add atmosphere to the finale that one wouldn’t necessarily guess Zed would be interested in harnessing, but is only more welcome for that. Even “The Mountain,” from Trouble in Eden, which tapped into some similar ideas in the guitar, didn’t dare go so far as the vocals, and a greater focus on melody only suits the song itself, which, given how much of Zed‘s approach — again — is about the songs, makes Volume stronger on the whole.
Signal of a new direction for Zed? Probably not, and I say that not because I think Zed are creatively stagnant — far from it, given the efforts they take to refine their songwriting here, though they might bristle at calling anything they do “refined” — but because they don’t sound like a band who are interested in fixing what clearly isn’t broken in their sound. “The End” has a less throaty vocal in its initial verse as well, and it may be that their dynamic is expanding, but if it’s going to happen, Zed seem to be conscious enough to let it happen in an unforced way. Because while their overall affect is loud, clear and full, both recorded and on stage, they don’t do anything that feels unnatural in either side. They’re not going to seek out vintage equipment to record on or spend tens of thousands of dollars on this or that mixing board, and they’re not going to find some overly slick digital cut and paste method for putting riffs together.
They’re a songwriting and performance band, and that’s what you get on Volume. You get songwriting, you get performance. Sure, they’ve grown in the three years since Trouble in Eden — though they’re not so mature as to, say, not make a dick joke on their album cover — but the core of Zed remains unchanged, and it seems more likely than not that that’s how it will be for the duration. Zed were not inexperienced in bands when they formed, and as a group who knew what they wanted going in, they’ve been walking their path steadily ever since. What’s truly impressive about that is not just that they’ve brought this mission to bear in the memorable tracks of Volume, but that there’s that accompanying performance aspect. In payoffs for “Wings of an Angel,” or “Chingus” or “The Great Destroyer” — take your pick, really — they harness not just a live energy, but the energy of a band confident in the righteousness of their voluminous cause. And so they are.
You can’t manufacture charm, but you can do a Lego stop motion video for one of your songs, and that’s pretty much the same thing. Say hello to Zed‘s “Chingus,” the second track to be released from their upcoming long-player, Volume, which is out one month from today, on July 26 through Ripple Music. I had occasion this weekend to see Zed at Maryland Doom Fest and I talked to bassist Mark Acaves about the video. My immediate question was how long it took to put together. The answer? Three months. Three months of work. A quarter of a year. That’s pretty nuts.
When you see the video, though, you’ll hardly be able to say it wasn’t worth the effort. With cameos from KISS — Ace Frehley seems to step in on lead guitar — as well as the Lego ghost of Lego David Bowie, the Predator chasing an Alien, and finally, the Misfits, it’s all a lot to take in. You better watch it twice. I feel like the sheer amount of labor involved — let alone the cost of the sets; as my mother always said, “Legos aren’t cheap” — warrants that at least. Plus the song rocks, so that’s nice too. Call it a win all around.
I said as much in the Maryland Doom Fest review, but these guys absolutely tore it up at the festival, 100 percent rising to the occasion of playing right before Conan on the last night of the thing and giving the crowd one last bit of supercharged rock and roll before everybody got their head smashed in. They were great and as “Chingus” follows “The Other Kind” in terms of audio from the record — let alone the cover art of the thing, which is not subtle almost enough to be subtle, full circle-style — “rising to the occasion” would seem to be the theme all the way around.
Volume is out in a month. Links and more info follow the clip below, courtesy of the PR wire.
Enjoy:
Zed, “Chingus” official video
LEGO Stop Motion Music Video for the song “Chingus” off of the forthcoming album “VOLUME” from Ripple Music. http://www.ripple-music.com
This video was made with a bunch of Lego’s doing stop motion photography on an iPhone 8S using StopMotion Studio.
Zed is: Pete Sattari- Guitar/Vox Sean Boyles – Drums Greg Lopez – Guitar Mark Aceves – Bass
Posted in Whathaveyou on May 27th, 2019 by JJ Koczan
New Zed is a ripper, which definitely makes it kin to old Zed. The album, out in July, is called Volume, and fairly enough so, and the track they’re streaming from it — available for listening at the bottom of this post, among other places — is called “The Other Kind.” If you want to think of it as a kind of check-in to let all interested parties know that Zed haven’t lost the chip on their collective shoulder since 2017’s Trouble in Eden (review here), I think that’s probably reasonable. Dudes know how to both turn and knock heads.
They’re fresh off their first excursion to European soil for a quick run that wrapped at Desertfest London 2019, so it’s hard to imagine the record announcement coming at a better time in terms of momentum. Their second album, Desperation Blues (discussed here), was also reissued by Ripple earlier this year, so you know, full calendar and all that. Busy busy.
Details come via the PR wire:
ZED return with VOLUME on RIPPLE MUSIC | Stream and share new song ‘THE OTHER KIND’
Volume by ZED is officially released on 26th July 2019
Making their roaring presence felt in the Bay Area rock scene since 2007, with heavy footprints and sonically indelible marks are San Jose earth shakers ZED. With a sound based on the core principles of blues, heaviness and groove, this quartet is the genuine article. No bell bottoms, wizard sleeves or hip huggers for this crew. Instead, it’s a barrage of head-bobbing, air-guitaring, hip-shaking, blues-driven riffage as delivered by the true bastards of rock and roll.
From their inception ZED made a name for themselves with their crushing live shows and incessant grooves. Having played together in various projects since 1998, including releasing several albums with the band Stitch for Prosthetic and Metal Blade Records, guitarist/vocalist Peter Sattari and bassist Mark Aceves joined up with guitar wizard Greg Lopez and drummer extraordinaire Sean Boyles to create a sound that was uniquely their own. Drawing from their varied influences, ranging from classic ’70s rock to punk and hardcore, by way of metal and old school funk, ZED write music fuelled by nasty grooves. The band has even been called, “a pissed off Led Zeppelin with Chris Cornell meets Ian Astbury on vocals.”
In recent years the band’s momentum has exploded, signing to Ripple Music and growing into a household name in the stoner rock community. Their hard-grooving live show has seen the band perform as headline support at Maryland Doom Fest and numerous SXSW events. They recently capped off their first European tour with a benchmark performance at Desertfest Lodon, where Kerrang! Magazine caught their set and said, “Their booze-drenched blues’n’roll almost breaks into a riot as both band and audience raise the roof and plenty of Hell in the process, leaving the most triumphant first impression.”
Volume by ZED is officially released on 26th July 2019 on Ripple Music.
TRACK LISTING: 1. The Other Kind 2. The End 3. Wings of The Angel 4. Hollow Men 5. Take Me Home Again 6. Chingus 7. Poison Tree 8. The Great Destroyer 9. Time and Space 10. The Troubador
Zed is: Pete Sattari- Guitar/Vox Sean Boyles – Drums Greg Lopez – Guitar Mark Aceves – Bass
Posted in Bootleg Theater on February 18th, 2019 by JJ Koczan
Man, get ready for a trip. Due out March 25, II is the aptly-named second full-length from likewise aptly-named San Jose desert-style noise kooks KOOK, and it’s a far-out blower with an underpinning of the bizarre, earthy psychedelia born of Californian sands with just a bit of urbane crunch to its tones. Like if Queens of the Stone Age moved to Oakland, kept their edge and got weird, or if Fatso Jetson nixed the boogie and added more angry and a bit of Faith No More at their least predictable. The six-tracker runs 44 minutes and seems destined to be A research subject for years to come on the relative potency of edibles. Delivered through Glory or Death Records, it commences with “Escape Velocity,” which serves as an eight-minute barrage of you in the future asking what the hell just happened, and only ups the volatility factor with “Chains” and “Left Behind,” which offsets its languid groove and hook with a sense that at any moment it might haul off and punch you upside the head. Does it? Yeah, and a suitable reeling racket of noise follows as though KOOK also need to recover.
They don’t, but you might. Those three tracks are side A of the thing and they’re beastly in their scope and conjuring of ’90s bizarro threat rock and under-influence suggestion. “Escape Velocity” seems to tip hat to the Melvins in Karl Larson‘s guitar and the out-for-a-walk bassline of Jeff Wilson, but the punctuation of Erik Wilkins‘ drumming makes for sharper corners, and Troy Aschenbrenner‘s vocals are way out there on another plane, covered in hair, if you know what I mean. Still, they hold together this first of two cuts on II over eight minutes long — “Left Behind” is the other one, and it’s just a bit longer — and with the aggro strut of “Chains,” they preface the fuzzed swing of “Human Container” at the setoff of side B, which turns beastly in a second-half slowdown that devolves into a noise wash sustained in effects on a long fuckall fade ahead of “Frequency 8,” which underscores the you-are-not-in-control-but-they-might-be vibe while casting another assault of tone and coming out of it somehow making sense en route to closer “Chased by Monsters,” where they line up tense chug and subsequently tap into their inner Primus carnival manifestation. Shit gets wild. Shit starts wild, and then gets wilder. And then they end by thrashing out because fucking of course they do.
Being a gentleman of a certain age, I remember when the Heaven’s Gate cult warned that Planet Earth was about to be recycled and the only way to avoid that grim fate was to hitch a ride on the UFO hiding behind the passing comet Hale-Bopp. KOOK sample audio and imagery from Heaven’s Gate’s leader, Do — whose writings you can still find online, if you’re up for falling down a hole — and the somewhat futuristic but also completely off the rails thematic could hardly suit them better. It’s high time someone took on the subject matter, and KOOK would seem to be the perfect band to do it. It’s a riotously colorful niche of cultism.
Ahead of the official release next month, KOOK hit the road (they’ll have copies of the album at the merch table) and play alongside many righteous bands in and around appearances at SXSW, the stoner revival of which has not gone unnoticed. Nonetheless, it’s a schedule busy enough to suit KOOK‘s sound, and before they go, they’re giving another glimpse at the weirdo triumphs II has in store. Preorders for the record are up if that’s your thing, and you can check out the “Escape Velocity” lyric video below, with all the Hale-Bopp you need and some dizzying rocket footage to boot.
Dig and enjoy:
Kook, “Escape Velocity” lyric video premiere
The third lyric video and song released from KOOK’s upcoming album, II, available (digital, vinyl, tape, and CD) via Glory or Death Records 3/26/29 at http://wearekook.bandcamp.com. A song for those who follow the blind into the unknown and find only darkness.
Headed out to Texas this March to play some shows at SXSW and touring to California to celebrate the release of our second album, II. Playing with amazing bands along the way we can’t list them all, but come see a show if we pass near you!
KOOK live: MAR 14 Austin, TX Spider House Cafe and Ballroom Wicked Bad Stoner Jam MAR 14 San Antonio, TX The Mix MAR 15 Arlington, TX Division Brewing MAR 16 Austin, TX Kick Butt Café Gravity Fest MAR 17 El Paso, TX The Rockin’ Cigar Bar & Grill MAR 18 Albuquerque, NM Moonlight Lounge MAR 20 Tempe, AZ Palo Verde Lounge MAR 21 San Diego, CA The Bancroft MAR 22 Los Angeles, CA 5 Star Bar MAR 23 El Monte, CA Silver Dollar Saloon
KOOK is: Karl Larson-Guitar Troy Aschenbrenner-Vocals Eric Wilkins-Drums Jeff Wilson- Bass
moving. Maybe that’s an exaggeration as the 15-minute opener and longest track (immediate points) “Orion-Cygnus Descent (Arrival)” launches into blasts and stretches of abyssal churning, but Ascension Beyond Kokytus is nothing if not exaggerated, pulling elements of sludge, atmospheres of filth-coated slow death metal and just an edge of post-metallic drone to coincide into their particular sphere of cohesive extremity. There is purpose to the music beyond backing the story being told lyrically, and as “Festered Sepsis Lacerations (Assimilation)” (premiering below) crushes as the most straight-ahead death metal inclusion — shades of un-Egyptified Nile, Incantation, etc. — the overarching groove would be a lifeline were it not the very undercurrent pulling you continually downward.
