Posted in Whathaveyou on December 31st, 2014 by JJ Koczan
With a steady supply of sludgy fuckall in tow, Connecticut trio Stone Titan will hit the road on Jan. 2 for an 11-show run beginning the next night in Richmond, Virginia. Having been fortunate enough to catch the band earlier this year, I have a pretty easy time recommending a set to anyone who needs a dose of alternately grueling, bludgeoning heavy fueled by a hooch and nihilism. Which is pretty much everybody, right? Because that’s the way the world works?
They recently announced the run with characteristic excitement at the prospect of touring once again:
STONE TITAN WINTER TOUR
Hey all you stupid fucks. We leave for tour on Friday in case you forgot (you probably did). Come drink your feelings away with us.
The title explains most of this. USA and a lil’ taste of Canada.
We will be touring in support of no new record. We might bring some special goodies though. We will see.
A “*” indicates that you need to help us get a “gig”. As you can see, we need help.
1/2- Going to Richmond, VA a day early to get dumb. 1/3- Richmond, VA @ Cedar Haus 1/4- Knoxville, TN @ Poison Lawn w/ In La Kesh & Maker 1/5- Lexington, KY @ Al’s Bar 1/6- Columbia, MO @ TBA 1/7- Kansas City, MO @ Vandals w/ Ignis Gratis 1/8- Omaha, NE @ West Wing w/ Genocide Pact 1/9- Minneapolis, MN @ Secret Service w/ Larry Wish and His Guys, Weakwick 1/10- Winnipeg, MB @ Handsome Daughter w/Plague, Beast & Violent Gorge 1/11- Duluth, MN @ The Happy Hole w/ Agitate, Nopamine & Ire Wolves 1/12- Madison, WI @ The Wisco w/Satans Dealer, Blunt & No Question 1/13- Akron, OH @ Annabelle’s 1/14- Western MA @TBA
Posted in Reviews on September 2nd, 2014 by JJ Koczan
It was the lineup for Kind that drew me off the Fabled Couch of Self-Pity™ and out to Worcester on Friday night. A drummer of unstoppable swing in Elder‘s Matt Couto and a bassist of raw metallic power in Rozamov‘s Tom Corino meeting with a tripping-out Darryl Shepard (Black Pyramid, The Scimitar, so many others) on guitar and vocalist Craig Riggs of Roadsaw topping it off? This gig at Ralph’s Rock Diner was their second show — they’ll go down to New York in October on a weekender alongside The Golden Grass — but still, I knew it was something I wanted to see. Turns out I was right.
I’ve been hearing about Kind since before they had a name, Darryl mentioning to me somewhere along the line that he and Matt had been jamming. Both were excited about the project, and I was particularly interested when the focus seemed to be on effects, psychedelics and really exploring parts and where they might go. I wasn’t sure how Riggs was going to fit in, but figured it was at least worth showing up to see the band in a formative stage. They shared the bill with Connecticut sludgers Stone Titan, Worcester native death thrashers Xatatax and Maine’s Eastern Spell who dealt out doomly punishment to close the night, and though they’re a new act, I was still somewhat surprised when I rolled into Ralph’s — slowly through that dirt parking lot, always — and found they were going on first.
As advertised, the vibe was psychedelic. Shepard‘s guitar was a jam-leading wash right from the start. Song titles were a mystery, but Riggs had jotted down a lyric sheet as a reminder for certain parts, and there was a lot of line repetition and atmospheric vocalizing from him as well, adding to the melody and liberal soloing from Darryl over the more than solid foundation created by Couto and Corino in the rhythm section, the bass adding a few choice runs of its own to the mix. They were louder than the size of their amps would have indicated, coming through the Ralph’s P.A. — that place has good sound and a guy running it whose passion is obvious — but even more important to me than the volume was the tone, which was organic and full and made lush at times through an assortment of reverb, wah and loops.
In Blackwolfgoat, Shepard explores a wide range of effects and drones and experiments, but in actual groups, he’s always been a rock player and a rock songwriter. Even Hackman, which had plenty of far-out moments, was hardly a psychedelic band. For his guitar work specifically, Kind seemed to be the marrying of those two sides — loops, echoes, space leads trailing away endlessly meeting with driving riffs and forward movement. Couto, who at any point you might see him seems like he’s just two sticks away from jamming, set a varied pace throughout their set, tempo changes ultimately playing a role in mood as well as songs came to bigger finishes. For his part, Riggs held back the impulse to sing over everything, which is a trap a less experienced vocalist undoubtedly wouldn’t know to avoid, and gave the music plenty of room to develop and move on its own. Like Shepard, he’s more known for straightforward work — Roadsaw get down to business, live and on record — but he ran his voice through a range of effects and added to the ambience rather than pulled away from it.
Their last jam particularly started out with a softer echoing guitar line that reminded of YOB, but took a different evolutionary course, almost entirely instrumental by the end so that Riggs stood on the side of the stage with a bottle of beer and watched the trio finish it off in grand style. They were clearly still getting established and getting used to each other on stage — Riggs and Shepard used to play together in Roadsaw, but that was a while ago at this point — but what I was able to see from watching them was that they have a pretty clear idea of how open they want their sound to be and that they’re headed in that direction. When they record, it will be interesting to hear how much these jams turn into songs, and more, how much they don’t.
Three summers ago, I saw Stone Titan in Wallingford, Connecticut, opening a varied five-band a lineup dubbed Fuzz Fest (review here), and though they were young, they left an impression with their raw take on sludge groove. At Ralph’s, they showed that the time since last I saw them has been put to use defining a more individual sound. There was still some Eyehategod in there, and they had that whole we-play-sludge-so-we-don’t-give-a-fuck-about-anything attitude down pat, but for the most part, their take was meaner, tighter and more cohesive than it had been. Three more years of playing will do that — at least you’d hope so — but I know they’ve had some road time as well over that time and it showed. I’m not sure they’re done growing, but I was impressed with the progression all the same.
Between each band, I went outside to my car. The Patient Mrs. was away for most of last week on one of her I’m-brilliant-so-I-do-awesome-things field trips, and I had brought the little dog Dio with me to the show, knowing she’d rather stay in the car for a couple hours with me checking in than be home alone. Worcester’s own Xatatax were on next, with SET guitarist/vocalist Mountain Jeff on drums, and I knew I wanted to see that, having run into a couple of their songs once at O’Brien’s in Allston. When the went on, they were aggressive and probably way more death metal than I was looking for, but as crisp and sharp as one would hope, with lots of Slayer in the guitars and some slow/fast tradeoffs that deepened the groove.
I wound up staying through Xatatax‘s whole set, but cut out during the five-piece Eastern Spell, who were lethal in a metallic sense but still more geared toward doom than Xatatax. They had multiple split 7″ with Maine countrymen Sylvia for sale — or one with multiple covers, maybe — and made a point of bludgeoning with riffs and metal-born aggro style. Mosh doom, I was calling it by the time I started to think about making my way out of Ralph’s. Like Xatatax, they were viciously tight, I just felt like it was time to go. The room still had plenty of heads left in it after I was left.
A bit of an investigative purpose — I wasn’t going so much to rock out as I was to see what Kind actually sounded like — but a solid evening all the same, and I was relieved to find the couch still waiting for us when the little dog and I returned.
By the time I had eyes to see the above wisdom scrawled on the wall next to the urinal at Cherry Street Station in Wallingford, Connecticut, I was already several Newcastles into the night. The last time I was at the venue was for a show with A Thousand Knives of Fire, Bloodcow and others, and that was years ago, but not much had changed. Bands still set up in the corner of the main room, the bar was up a couple steps and there was a patio outside for the smokers. Hockey was on the big screen and beer was cheap. I had arrived early — a fruitless stop at Redscroll Records preceded — and immediately set about chipping away at the cash in my wallet. When in doubt: drink.
I had a good hour to do so, and Newcastle goes down like candy, so the cash and the beer were both going quick by the time Stone Titan started up. Fuzz Fest — a collection of local Connecticut acts put together by Ron Vanacore of Curse the Son (who played third) — didn’t actually feature all that much fuzz. With a name like that, you’d expect six or seven Fu Manchu clones on the bill, but instead, the lineup culled acts from different prongs of the doom umbrella, starting with Stone Titan‘s heavy sonic debt to the riffs of Jimmy Bower. They were so young I wondered if they’d have been allowed at the show if they weren’t playing it, but honest about where they came from; an Eyehategod cover went a long way in transitioning them in my mind from “derivative” to “charming.”
Either way, their collective heart was in the right place, and theirs was the start of a night of several impressive covers. The Connecticut scene, if nothing else, has good taste. King of Salem, who played second, covered “Swinging the Chain” from Black Sabbath‘s Never Say Die, and that sat well alongside their straightforward heavy rock. Guitarist/vocalist Simon Tuozzoli and drummer Mike Petrucci were joined by a bassist (who, if I’m not mistaken, had the night’s only five-string; one too many) and guitarist who looked imported directly from another band.
I was a fan of King of Salem‘s Prophecyway back when I reviewed it, so it was cool to hear some of that material live, and while it was abundantly clear that Tuozzoli and Petrucci were the core of the band, the other half, situated on the right side of the stage area, did well with their parts, the guitarist adding solos to Tuozzoli‘s riffs that were both fluid and accomplished. It was a strange set, but a good one, and an excellent transition point between Stone Titan and Vanacore‘s own outfit, who occupied the center position on the bill.
After hearing their Klonopain full-length, I suspected that the disc, while enough to give an overall impression of their sound (and a favorable one), didn’t do the band full justice, and their live show proved that assertion correct. Petrucci was pulling double-duty, drumming for Curse the Son as well as King of Salem, and he’d reportedly only practiced with Vanacore and bassist Cheech once, two days earlier, but you wouldn’t have known it watching the trio play. He adapted to the songs excellently, and Vanacore‘s tone, which came out of two green cabinets and a green head with “WEED” where “Green” might otherwise have been, was among the highlights of the night.
As the driving force behind the show, their crowd was the biggest. The way the P.A. speakers were set up, it made the stage area look small, but it was actually deep enough so that most of the equipment was backlined, and the high ceiling in the room made it so Curse the Son were able to pull off a loud, full sound, which they did, expressing a clear love for the riffy arts. Admirable enough that Vanacore got the show together in the first place, but doubly so that Curse the Son didn’t then headline or screw anyone into a shitty timeslot. It was a well-constructed evening and good to see everyone getting into the bands. Going to shows in New York, it’s easy to get lost sometimes in how much of a social obligation it is. For me at least, as an outsider up for the weekend, it was refreshing to have it be just about the music.
And just when I was most feeling that after Curse the Son‘s set, there came Lord Fowl. It’s not really doing them justice to call them the “find of the night,” because I’d heard three of the total five bands before, but they fucking destroyed, either way. A double-guitar/double-vocal four-piece from just south on I-91 in New Haven, they powered through a set that included the best cover of Thin Lizzy‘s “The Boys are Back in Town” that I’ve ever heard — and I’ve heard a few — and hands down the night’s highest rock quotient. Their set had that same feeling you get watching Roadsaw or one of those really killer Small Stone acts rip it up, where you just know this is how rock and roll should be done and the bullshit factor is nil.
They had a CD for sale, which I bought, and if there’d been others, I’d have gotten them too. The night had already been a winner, but Lord Fowl absolutely made it, and when they finished, I immediately commenced nerding out about how righteously good they were. I haven’t listened to the disc yet only for lack of time, but I’ll get there for sure, as I want to hear if they’ll be able to translate their live energy to an album. Here’s hoping.
Post-that, anything was going to be a comedown, but Sea of Bones closed out the night in front of a wall of amplifiers (the drums, also huge) and emitted the kind of volume that rendered earplugs all but useless. Seriously, I could feel them vibrating in my ears. The levels on their three mics — one for each member of the band — were off, but honestly, with that much noise coming from the cabs, I don’t think anything would have helped. You could’ve blown out the P.A. three times over and still not heard the screams of drummer Kevin, guitarist Tom or bassist Gary (all first names only). Easy to blame the sound guy for that, but even he could only do so much to stem their massive tonality.
My last beer was gone by the time they started playing, and it had been my intention to split a couple songs in, but Sea of Bones held my attention and feet in place. If you’ve never heard them, their ultra-doom borders on post-metal at times, but is mostly angrier and less intellectually pretentious than much of that genre. If they toured, you wouldn’t need my recommendation to check them out, because they’d already be huger even than Tom‘s pedal board. What they had in common with the rest of the acts in the Fuzz Fest lineup, though was a readily evident passion for what they were doing.
And if you’re going to book a show of local acts and try and foster a developing scene, that’s how you do it: by loving what you do and showing that to others. Kudos to Vanacore on picking the lineup he did (the shout-out in my direction from the stage was unnecessary, but also appreciated), since they may have all come from different ends of the genre, but there was an undercurrent that bound them all the same. When I left, it was too late for me to call my mother as per the advice of the men’s room wall, but I was comfortable anyway in knowing my time had been well spent.