The tab’s been open for the last week in my browser, and that’s as long as Temple Fang‘s Live at Krach Am Bach has been out. I exhausted however many streams were allotted listening through the two-song/52-minute set the Amsterdam psych-of-spirit four-piece played at the June 2023 edition of the Krach Am Bach Festival in Beelen, Germany, and, well, April is tax season here in the US, so I was thinking maybe I could write off the three-euro download if I classify The Obelisk as a failed business venture. Yes, I do consider “failed business venture” a compliment.

There is a cassette pressing of Live at Krach Am Bach as well, 100 copies. It looks pretty sweet, with Maaike Ronhaar‘s on-stage photo of guitarist/vocalist Jevin de Groot as seen from behind mid-testimony printed on a black and white j-card, kind of a bootleg vibe, but pro-shop, as is the recording by Niek Manders for which guitarist Ivy van der Veer handled the mix. To be honest, I just didn’t have the €10 for it this morning or I’d have picked that up, but you take what you can get, and that Temple Fang — de Groot, van der Veer, bassist/vocalist Dennis Duijnhouwer and drummer Daan Wopereis — are able to put together an enticing live record at this point should come as little surprise. Live at Krach Am Bach is their sixth one in the last two years.

One might extrapolate from that some idea where the band’s priorities are generally when setting six live releases against their lone studio LP, Fang Temple (review here), which first arrived in 2021 and was pressed the next year through Stickman Records, and its later-2022 EP follow-up, Jerusalem/The Bridge (review here), but if Manders has a penchant for recording off the board while doing front-of-house sound for the band, that has only to this point served them well. To wit, Live at Krach Am Bach is — I believe — the third release from the tour they were doing at the time in 2022. It follows Live at Schlachthuis and Live at Freak Valley (review here), both released last April (the former on tape, the latter a CD/LP on Stickman), and as with those, the narrative around the performance is part of the character that emerges from listening.

I don’t want to just cut and paste the story from their Bandcamp, but the summary is that, as documented elsewhere, they were somewhat winging the tour as they got settled in with Daan Wopereis taking over on drums for Egon Loosveldt, playing different material. It started to rain before they went on. Between songs on the recording, you can hear Duijnhouwer say to the crowd, “Amazing view from here — you guys look good in plastic.” If you had no idea what was going on at the time — if you didn’t know that the audience had either put on ponchos or otherwise tried to cover themselves to keep the water off so they could enjoy the show — you could be forgiven for being confused. Is he on acid? Is he a serial killer? “You look good in plastic?” What the hell is that supposed to mean? It’s ponchos. Chill out.

By then, de Groot has already professed to being on the verge of tears and called the crowd “fucking beautiful, all of you,” before singing out “Take me to the place I have always been” ahead of “Gemini” (21:46) moving into its final phase in the last third, a build that starts with mellow bass, drums and guitar and resolves its extended flow with a striking and memorable chorus, de Groot, Duijnhouwer and maybe van der Veer sharing vocals. Both “Gemini” and “Not the Skull” (32:22) featured on 2020’s Live at Merleyn and the recorded-in-2019/released-in-2022 Live at Ocii and Live at Vera, but in different forms with “Silky Servants” included in “Gemini” and “The Radiant” between the other two pieces in the non-festival setting. If your eyebrow went up at Live at Krach Am Bach being the third offering from a single tour, I’ll note that the sets from Live at Schlachthuis and Live at Freak Valley were each comprised of one track only, “Grace,” which to the best of my knowledge, like “Gemini,” has yet to feature on a studio recording.

In addition, both “Gemini” and “Not the Skull” have evolved since those earlier 2019 recordings. That turn back to the chorus of “Gemini” in the back end doesn’t happen with “Gemini/Silky Servants” on Live at Occii, and “Not the Skull” at Krach Am Bach was 11 minutes longer than the studio version that appeared on Fang Temple. What one can glean from this is an ethic of openness to the moment. Standing on stage, the members of Temple Fang are in conversation with each other musically — not just with the “Yeah” at 29:33 into “Not the Skull” to mark the change as the band aligns around Duijnhouwer‘s boogie-shove bassline for a finish likewise raucous and rocking — and the amorphous character of the material that’s been revealed over time comes across as purposefully not definitive. This is what these songs were this day, in the rain, in Germany. The next day it might have been a completely different experience.

The underlying message might be that we limit our reach when we impose rules and definitions on ourselves, of style or substance. If Temple Fang went out and delivered the same set every night in the same way, well, they’d probably still be pretty cool because they play well individually and as a group, but the personality would be different, and by not limiting themselves, they are inspiring on a level that goes beyond the meditative aspects of their exploratory psych or the outright soul with which de Groot tears into a given solo. The songs aren’t completely shapeless by any means — as noted, “Gemini” lands a hook, and “Not the Skull” is all the more encompassing for its plotted movement toward that ending — but on Live at Krach Am Bach, it’s clear they’ve been allowed to breathe and become what they will. Along with the basic audio of the thing, that’s also part of what’s being preserved here. They capture it vividly, and it is an idea worthy of the reminder.

Which I guess is how you get to six live records in a two-year span.

They’re doing a weekender now and have another booked for later in April, two German and one Dutch show for each, and have been confirmed for Sound of Liberation‘s Lazy Bones Festival 2024 this October in Hamburg. I wouldn’t be surprised if more dates surface around that, or if they have another offering or two to make before they next hit the road, reveling as they do in the universe of infinite possibility.

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

—

My sister called a few minutes ago. My mother fell. She’s 77, needs new knees, is figuratively and literally crippled by fear at the prospect of surgery. No serious injury — this time — but it’s a stirring reminder of her advancing age and of course of my own. My father is dead and they didn’t live together, and my sister, who lives in the same house with her own husband and two kids, is primary. I’m of course glad she didn’t get hurt. Takes the day down a peg.

But the whole week was a mess, really. The Patient Mrs., The Pecan and I started out Sunday on a four-plus-hours trip to somewhere in New York’s Finger Lakes — which it turns out are gorgeous; go figure — to see Monday’s eclipse in totality. We stayed somewhere in Pennsylvania on Sunday night, and one skinned Pecan knee from running by the motel pool later, continued the ride north Monday to meet up with family friends and their kids who had likewise made the trip from their home in Brooklyn.

Did we see the eclipse? Nope. Cloudy. It got dark, then it got light. It was weird, nowhere near as cool as we all tried to sell it to the children as being, and if the question is whether or not it was worth the five-hour drive home (The Patient Mrs. did the outbound trip; credit where it’s due) listening to The Pecan whining about not being able to play mahjongg on The Patient Mrs.’ phone, let alone the money for gas, food and lodging, my answer is a resounding no. Some you win, some you lose.

Tuesday I wrote all day. Following on from Spring Break all last week, this Wednesday was another day off from school for The Pecan. Most of the day was rainy and I chose to forego her ritalin since it was just the two of us and the dog, and I firmly believe that made her morning, afternoon and evening harder. She was a mess all day, and even after The Patient Mrs. came home from work to take her to her afternoon ice skating lesson while I did my remote-learning Hungarian language class upstairs, I could hear screaming from the ground floor. Something or other. Nothing that mattered for more than an intense four seconds, certainly.

I had gotten less than half of the Heavy Temple review that went up yesterday written in the morning before The Pecan woke up, and since I had homework to do before class, that was the sum total of my writing time for the entire day. It’s never enough, I know, but Wednesday was particularly spare. More so than I’d prefer, whatever the surrounding circumstances.

I’m still behind from that. I have the Horseburner album announcement — which was in my notes as DONE and which I’ve already fucking referenced in a post as a past event — waiting to be finished so it can go up. WyndRider got signed to Electric Valley for their second LP. That’ll be up Monday too I guess. I know this entire endeavor is small stakes, that nobody really cares about these things except me, and that I’m doing my best, but it is frustrating to put everything you can into a thing and come up short of where you want to be. That’s all.

So maybe Temple Fang closing the week is my way of telling myself to be less rigid. Or maybe they’re on my mind because next week is Roadburn and I’m actually going to be there for the first time in five years. That’s where I first saw Temple Fang, as well as Death Alley, of which Dennis Duijnhouwer was a founding member, and his prior band with Jevin de Groot, the cosmic-doom proposition Mühr, whose performance remains among the best live music experiences I’ve ever had.

I’m nervous to be back in Tilburg. I’m older. I’m worn down. I’m out of shape physically and mentally in ways that I just wasn’t in 2019. I’m tired all the time. Running in circles around my brain is the mantra that when the music starts it’ll all be okay.

Have a great and safe weekend. Have fun, watch your head, hydrate, all that stuff. See you back here Monday for a Darsombra video premiere and all the rest of it. For now I think I might head up the hill and check on my mom.

FRM.

The Obelisk Collective on Facebook

The Obelisk Radio

The Obelisk merch

 

08.11.23 – Fri. – Press trailer

Before show

Hot one in Âncora today. I walked over via the beach, crossing from one boardwalk to the other on the sand instead of going by the river as I did yesterday. No regrets. Waves crashing in, a humid haze in the air reminding of home, summer, that feeling where you want to swim instead of walk. Swimming sounds pretty good, actually. I may have to settle for soaking myself in one of the sinks I’ve been using to refill my water bottle.

Rolled in like I knew where I was going. Day one down, I’m an expert now. Ha. I ran into the Temple Fang dudes and Jack from Elder, saw Weedpecker setting up to open the day on the third stage, said a quick hi to Ricardo. It’s that kind of thing. See people, say hi, and then I usually feel that pull to go sit by myself somewhere and write. The press shack is air conditioned. It is a mercy. Actually cooler here than in New Jersey, where I live, but I’ve got more resources at home to stay cool, and I’m not running back and forth all day taking pictures and writing. Not usually, anyhow. Sometimes we all have those days.

Got to bed a little after three, woke up at 9AM, showered first, coffee second. Sorted pictures to go with the review of day one, which considering how much I saw took some time, quick check-in with the family — everybody’s fine; they said don’t come home (no, not really) — and had an hour left over to sneak in a nap before getting heading over here from the crash spot.

By the course of my history with festivals today will be the hardest day. Tired from a late night last night with the prospect of another full day tomorrow, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed. I’m doing a lot of slow breathing. Too bad I haven’t run into anyone running an impromptu yoga class. Maybe I’ll start one later if I have 10 minutes to spare and am feeling like making a spectacle of myself, which is how you know it won’t happen.

A lot of water, coffee until I get the jitters, which I’m approaching with the usual lack of caution like I’m trying to burn a hole in my stomach, and food somehow some way. The latter is my only real goal today beyond survival. And a big part of that, I suppose. It’s gonna be a good one. You can see the lineup above. I don’t need to tell you.

I don’t know if you’ve been keeping up or what — that review of day one was a beast; I don’t imagine anyone reading it front to back, and if they do, I’m sorry about the typos; more to come! — but what a time this is, and what a place. Maybe I’ll be invited back and maybe not — not sure what I add except jamming the backstage espresso maker — but if this is actually a once-in-a-lifetime experience, I’m lucky it’s my life it’s happening in.

Conan, Clutch and Stoned Jesus over the P.A. Thinking of you, Igor, and the war on the other side of this continent. Stay safe.

Here’s the day:

Weedpecker

Clearly SonicBlast knows how to pick its leadoff acts. The fest is three-for-three with Plastic Woods, Desert’Smoke and now Weedpecker coming all the way from Poland. Stratospheric in lush and proggy three-part harmonies at the start, a calming entry to the day that will unfold in its wake, and solidified from there around a few more terrestrial riffs and big finishes. Immediate vibe, well received. The growth this band has undertaken throughout the last 10-plus years shouldn’t be discounted, and if I was going to see them at any point, I’m glad to do so after their late-late 2021 album, IV: The Stream of Forgotten Thoughts (review here), which as you might expect is the pinnacle of their evolution to-date. But the thing about the trajectory they’ve had that I want necessarily expecting was how fluidly their heavier rock stuff fit with the ’70s melodies and the echo in the guitar that it’s hard to imagine can’t be heard in Spain from here. Not a band I expected to see, but they packed the third stage like it was much later in the day and closed with “Nothingness” from their second LP, II (review here) with one more engaging mellow-heavy flow that I watched from a little spot on a bench in the shade. That was pretty much perfect.

—

Monarch

Heavy, progressive, and not laid back but not forced in its push, Monarch were more rooted in original-era heavy than Weedpecker just prior, but on a different wavelength. Big early ’70s vibes, but modernized, and they’ve been through a few lineup changes, but if there were hiccups, I didn’t hear them, and I watched the full set while writing, which I also take as a sign of genuinely enjoying a thing as well as appreciating where it’s coming from. I’d love a new record from these guys, after 2019’s Beyond the Blue Sky (review here) — issued through no less than Causa Sui’s label, El Paraiso Records — and I have to feel like if Mondo Drag can do it, so can they. Keyboards complementing a bassline that had the earplugs vibrating in my head, they were remarkably well suited to the atmosphere here, with the beach over that way, sometimes languid but not lazy, melodic and drifty but filled out with a heft and the keyboards that make them even more their own thing. SoCal and Portugal seem to mesh well. Sun and breeze, beach and the ocean. Complementary West Coast vibes. Hey man, it doesn’t even snow anymore where I live. I can get down.

—

Naxatras

Speaking of bands I never thought I’d see who’ve made strikingly proggy turns, here come Naxatras heralding 2022’s modus redirect, IV (review here). The Greek outfit made an impact in Europe almost from their very beginning, or so it seemed to me across an ocean, and the chemistry of their jammier early work provides an easy explanation why. They mixed instrumentals and vocalized pieces, and were serene in a manner that was their own, creating the space while also inhabiting it. Like I said, this is my first time watching them play, so I can’t speak to how the presence of the keyboard on stage has affected their live show one way or the other, but they were hypnotic, and I found myself standing out front in the crowd for a few minutes, near the sound booth, just kind of drinking it in, because that’s what Naxatras’ music does to me. Those times when you feel like your blood is moving too fast — that’s what they’re there for, to put you back in a place that feels less combustible. It wasn’t a surprise that their sound was so gracefully enveloping, but it was a pleasure to experience in-person, and their subdued space ambience and subtle push of bass were more than I might reasonably have asked for. Bonus extra trippy, lightly funked, smoothly grooved.

—

Temple Fang

You never quite know what’s coming with Temple Fang, and they seem to like it that way. They’ve replaced their drummer I think since I saw them at Freak Valley last year (review here), and the single-song set they played there was put together as a last-minute change from their original plan that worked so well they ended up releasing it as a live record (review here). The kind of band who don’t think twice about playing a full show comprised solely of new material, and a treasure for that as well as for the soul they bring to their expansive heavy psychedelia. They opened with “Gemini” and set themselves on a course of ultra-patient ebbs and flows, proffering the kind of cosmic rock that reminds you that the universe is so big human brains lack the capacity to fathom it. Guitarist/vocalist Jevin de Groot and bassist/vocalist Dennis Duijnhouwer have a creative partnership that goes back more than a decade, and Temple Fang is more its own thing with time. I couldn’t find a shady spot anywhere, so meandered a bit, digging the jam as it unfolded. Whatever these guys do next — live-recorded studio LP with a solidified lineup? — just count me in already. Their songs build worlds. Vast, heavy, soulful, spontaneous, immersive, always with the chance of a freakout looming. They’ve got a thing, to be sure, but the thing is everything.

—

Greenleaf

Fuuuuuuuuck. Greeeeeeeeenleaf. They light fires, fortunately not literally, with the sheer physicality of their delivery. And I’m dying to hear what they do after 2021’s Echoes From a Mass (review here), since the longer they proceed with the current lineup of founding guitarist Tommi Holappa (also Dozer), vocalist Arvid Hällagård, bassist Hans Frölich (“everybody say hi to Hans, it’s his first time here”) and drummer Sebastian Olsson becomes more established with each passing LP and subsequent touring cycle, the latest album rife with emotive heavy blues that was neither culturally appropriated from Black American culture nor masculine caricature. As someone who’s heard a decent amount of heavy blues, this is a feat to be appreciated. They played “Bury Me My Son,” which made me feel ways, and hard-boogied from there into the stomp of “Good Ol’ Goat” followed by “Needle in My Eye,” also from the latest record and one I had kind of forgotten about. “Bound to Be Machines” from 2014’s Trails and Passes (review here), ignited a sing-along, and they jammed on it a bit, emphasizing how very badly they need to put out a live record. I stood up front for their whole set, planted my feet and ignored my aging back (I tried to write ‘aching’ there, but my phone autocorrected, and really, that’s more honest, so I’m leaving it) as they built up the start of “Tides” — Arvid noting that he’s an astronaut in the video; dude’s between-song banter was on point in a sarcasm that might’ve been too dry for some of the crowd but was twice as hilarious for that — playing that song through like the condensed epic it is and then pushing right into the finale, which was “Let it Out” from 2018’s Hear the Rivers (review here). I’d been trying not to get my hopes up for a new song in the set. That didn’t happen, but if you think I’m sad about it, you severely underestimate how much of a dork I am for this band. Hands in the air, the day’s first crowd surfer that I saw — hold onto that phone, guy — and the convincing shove from the band that made it all happen. Great fucking band.

—

Mondo Generator

I haven’t heard their new record yet — it’s out in Oct. 13 and called We Stand Against You — but they played some stuff from it, and it sure does have that brain-collapsing punk-born intensity one should expect from the Nick Oliveri-fronted three-piece, with Mike Pygmie on guitar and Mike Amster (who wore a Saint Vitus Bar shirt) drumming. I saw them last summer, so knew to expect selections from the Oliveri back catalog — “13th Floor” by Queens of the Stone Age, Kyuss’ “Green Machine,” and so on — and there’s little debating he’s contributed to, not just played on, some of the most crucial heavy albums of all-time. More than two, which is not something a lot of people can say. I paused to grab a quick bite to eat — meat and cheese as I’m in survival mode and they didn’t have any spinach or other salad stuff that I saw — and to do battle once more with one of the backstage coffee makers, which I’ve now jammed twice. Because incompetence. So Oliveri, Pygmie and Amster are on stage tearing whatever track from the new record a second (or first, as it were) asshole, and I’m trying to pick which button to push and trying not to be in the way, not really successful at either. By the time that coffee was gone, I realized just how much my ears were ringing despite the plugs, so clearly SonicBlast meets whatever ‘loud enough’ quota you’ve got. “Allen’s Wrench” led into Queens’ “Millionaire,” and that was it. Where the hell would you go after that anyway?

—

Bombino

Led by the group’s namesake, Nigerian guitarist and songwriter Omara “Bombino” Moctar, they might not have been the first Tuareg jammers on the SonicBlast bill this year, but they were perhaps even more danceable, and the crowd was ready for it. Onstage as a three-piece, guitar, bass, drums, they took that nothing-too-fancy approach and unfurled sweet desert grooves without a care in the world for what heavy means or to whom. But coming through the SonicBlast P.A., the bass couldn’t help but add weight, smooth as those lines were, and when Moctar took a solo, well, you knew it. He’s had Hendrix comparisons, which is a very nice thing to say about somebody who plays guitar, and I guess in some of the held-out solo notes and brash sweeps it’s there, but the namedrop isn’t really adequate to describe what Bombino does or how it relates to the musical and political history of Niger and the rock and roll therefrom, never mind the West African roots of rock music more broadly, or reggae, jazz, blues, etc. Bombino put out a record earlier this year called Nomad that was produced by Dan Auerbach from The Black Keys, so I guess that’s something. He could shred or bounce or vibe out make the guitar run in dizzying circles, sometimes in succession, and was clearly a master of his craft. There was one sing-along early in the set that didn’t take I think mostly because of the language barrier, but they did try it twice, and they got a better result the second time, as well as again later on. I think maybe I missed it happening, but when they were done it was nighttime.

—

Scowl

A few firsts here. First Negative Approach hat I’ve seen. First cover of “99 Red Ballons.” First bit of onstage skanking. Second blacklight-responsive hair, as it happens. Scowl, from Santa Cruz, California, did OFF! proud in terms of hardcore punk, but would occasionally break into cleaner, more rock-based parts too, making them unpredictable as well as sonically volatile. I won’t pretend to be familiar, but they’ve got one record that came out before the end of the world and they accomplished the energy-change that the punkier side of SonicBlast has pulled off a couple times in the last two days, and vocalist Kat Moss shouted out Bombino from stage, which was cool, but from the noise assault before they even started, it was clear that Scowl’s would be an entirely different kind of dance party. A very fast, very angry, stomping and gnashing song was dedicated to those who feel like they don’t fit in, so while I didn’t come into their set knowing much about them, I got to learn a bit, including that stuff about their album, the singer’s name, and that they seem like nice kids who mean well. Go get ’em, you wholesome hardcore slaughterers.

—

Thurston Moore Group

I saw Sonic Youth I’m pretty sure on the Sonic Nurse tour, and duh, they were Sonic Youth. And when it comes to Thurston Moore solo, I still have my Psychic Hearts CD from 1995 or whenever it was, and so yeah, I’m down for Thurston Moore Group’s lightly noisy, floating cosmic shoegaze exploding into blastbeats from its otherwise peaceful beginnings in “Hashish” from his 2020 album By the Fire and the subsequent “Hypno Brain.” I’m not sure what else one might expect. Between the two guitars, bass and keys, that assault was significant, but “Siren,” the 12-minute By the Fire track from whence that blast comes, has a sweet comedown on the other side of that, a subdued indie sway no more afraid to be pretty than caustic. Feedback and noise rang out as it started misting, and Moore and company dropped hints of space rock and psych fuzz along with all that ready scorch, and it seemed like by that point the band was warmed up, drumstick at the ready for guitar manipulation shenanigans that helped make Moore the kind of figure who might headline a festival like this, creating a kind of wave of noise and riding its crest to see where they might end up. The answer there os more noise, and that’s just fine. They were in and out of it for the duration, and the mist held too, never really becoming rain, thankfully, but ambient droplets on the breeze were refreshing as evening became night and the Thurston Moore Group wrapped with one more dive into noise and feedback, no less at home there than the verse they left behind. Fun moment: when I was getting food in back, I went to sit down at a table outside the trailer where you get the food and when I asked, “mind if I sit here?,” I looked up and sure enough, Thurston Moore Group band meal. I can’t confirm or deny, but the words “ah shit you’re Thurston Moore” may have left my mouth.

—

Frankie and the Witch Fingers

Okay, so it turns out that the bassist of L.A.’s Frankie and the Witch Fingers, Nikki Pickle, was sitting in last night with Death Valley Girls, whose singer was stuck in California, and of whom she is a former member. Learning new things every day here. With guitarist/vocalists — Josh Menashe and Dylan Sizemore — flanking either side of the stage and an urgency born of mathier punk but which is most definitely not that thing, Frankie and the Witch Fingers translated some of the intensity of the hardcore acts who’ve played this far into a heavy rock context. They had some keyboard going, the occasional slowdown into a funkier groove, and they were loved by the SonicBlast crowd (it’s not their first time here), but by and large their trade was forward thrust, and while it may have appeared otherwise, they weren’t screwing around. I’ve had no fewer than eight espressos today. The one I had after dinner could’ve been nine. At their fastest, in the frenetic first part of their set, I felt like maybe that wasn’t enough. So I grabbed another and went back out front. By then the mist was becoming genuine rain. Less convenient. Frankie and the Witch Fingers shuffled back into speedier fare and I started thinking about my camera getting wet, or my phone, even, which I’ve been writing on all weekend. Might end up leaving earlier than planned, which, since it’s 12:30, is still not actually all that early, at least for me. Portugal goes late. Rock and roll. I still got to see Frankie and the Witch Fingers close with a cover of “Now I Wanna Be Your Dog,” which was fun and made sense in a mathematically extracted way.

—

Elder

This is the first time I’m seeing them since they put out Innate Passage (review here) late last year, so it was a particular joy when they followed “Compendium” from 2015’s Lore (review here) with “Merged in Dreams/Ne Plus Ultra” from the new album. The space in front of both stages was full, and even though it was raining, it didn’t look like folks were in a hurry to seek shelter. Thousands of people. Jack doing backing vocals with Nick on the new stuff, Mike swapping guitar for keys, then back, that kind of groove that so much of progressive heavy has tried to emulate in the last 10 years or so but that no one’s gotten quite right or at least not at the level Elder to it. Maybe the rain lightened up. Maybe it didn’t, but standing there watching perhaps the foremost heavy band of their generation still exploring after 15 years and continuing to outdo themselves; it wasn’t the kind of thing you easily walk away from. Or walk away at all. They are exceptional. Another level. And then another. And another. And everything they do has heart, sincerity and a sense of evolution from where they’ve been in the past. It was humbling to witness. This is the biggest crowd I’ve seen them play for, and there’s not a doubt in my mind they can still push further, grow broader in sound, keep chasing whatever ideal version of their approach they’re after. At least I hope they do. I don’t have enough hyperbole for it. Closing out as they will with “Gemini,” it’s like they were up there inventing colors.

—

After show/next morning

I had already apologized to one of the dudes from Acid Mammoth for not seeing his set, and I’ll extend those apologies to Black Bombaim, who at least I’ve seen before. I guess next time I’m buying a camera bag it’ll be made of rubber? I don’t know. I felt bad leaving, but it was coming on 2AM and I had no trouble hearing Black Bombaim jam from my room, so at least there was that. Sounded cool from a distance.

For what I expected to be a rough day — the middle of three days is always a little adrenaline comedown as compared to the first or last — it wasn’t. I put my head down, worked, and pushed ahead, which is what you do. I was haggard by the end, but a video chat with The Patient Mrs., some sleep, a shower, some more coffee and almond butter for breakfast and I feel like a new person… who’s spent 24 of the last 48 hours having his ears blown out by the coast in Portugal. Sometimes it’s weird to realize these things.

One more day to go, and it’s a big one, as I might be prone to say about Jupiter or this or that blue supergiant star (the scale of those being completely different, both are nonetheless unfathomably huge). I’ll be ready. Thank you for reading.

Click ‘read more’ for pics, and thanks again.

Read more »

[Click play above to stream Temple Fang’s Live at Freak Valley in its entirety. Album is out on CD April 21 through Stickman Records with preorders available here and through Electric Spark/Right on Mountain on LP with preorders available here.]

Temple Fang were smack in the middle of the fourth and final day of 2022’s Freak Valley Festival, Saturday, June 18. Their set (review here) was the centerpiece of the lineup, and by the time they went on, the assembled masses had long since been sun-baked and ear-blasted in a celebration of heavy vibe unto itself. The narrative — blessings and peace upon it — goes that just before being introduced by Volker Fröhmer, whose robust “liebe freunden” greets bands and fans alike in announcing each act to hit the stage and is a part of the ritual itself and features on many of the Live at Freak Valley-type releases but is absent here, the Amsterdam four-piece scrapped the setlist they were going to play.

Maybe it was material from their 2021 studio debut, Fang Temple (review here), or the then-unreleased Jerusalem/The Bridge EP (review here) that came out at the end of last year, but either way, they put it aside in favor of “Grace,” a yet-unrecorded single piece that would comprise the entirety of their set. Recorded by Niek Manders, the Stickman-backed Live at Freak Valley presents “Grace” in in full breadth, feeling likewise bold and searching in its approach as its circa-45-minute run holds sway in a series of builds and crashes, meditative and consuming in a way that live music, especially outside on a sunny day, can’t always be. By no means alone in this regard for that long weekend, it was nonetheless a beautiful, affirming moment to be alive.

Comprised of guitarist/vocalist Jevin de Groot, bassist/vocalist Dennis Duijnhouwer, guitarist/keyboardist Ivy van der Veer (who also sings a little here) and drummer Egon Loosveldt, Temple Fang have — including Live at Freak Valley — now issued four live albums in the last three years, starting with 2020’s Live at Merleyn (review here) that was their first release. Put in a ratio to studio recordings, that’s four-to-one, at least as regards LPs; though I’ll gladly argue that Jerusalem/The Bridge wanted nothing for substance, so if it’s four-to-two, fine. Still, let that math — which gets even murkier when one considers the live-recorded basic tracks of Fang Temple — stand as testament to their ethic as a group and, amid the other narrative surrounding Live at Freak Valley, serve as a demonstration of their priorities.

At least thus far into their tenure and as much as has been possible over the last few years, they’re a live band. That they’d even be comfortable enough to step out on a stage and play a 45-minute-long song to a crowd that’s never heard it before supports the argument, let alone that they would consider releasing it afterward or that “Grace” unfolds in such a patient manner, fluidly shifting in volume and dynamic before its sweeping final movement, a multi-tiered apex with a subtly doomed riff at its foundation that turns to space rock and airy comedown lead work before another soloing tonal-wash crescendo. I don’t know if it was the first time Temple Fang had broken out “Grace” at a show, but standing in front of the stage and watching it happen at Freak Valley, it certainly felt like a landmark for them, which this release seals it as being.

Would it be too on-the-nose to call “Grace” graceful? Probably. But while the nature of from-stage recordings is such that the sundry little bumps and flubs along the way that go almost universally unnoticed by the crowd (and can define an evening for the band in question, whoever it might be) become part of the finished product, and that’s invariably the case here as well, the slow rise of effects noise and cymbals that begins it and shifts within two minutes to anticipatory howls of guitar set as fitting a scene as one could hope for what follows, in range as well as methodical delivery. Loosveldt‘s drums enter after the third minute with Duijnhouwer‘s bass, one guitar softly noodling, the other holding to undulating swells of manipulated feedback as they immerse the audience  in the song-in-progress seemingly before it’s even started.

The first verse is Duijnhouwer‘s, and like the rest of “Grace,” it is rolled out gently, complemented by dual-channel echoing guitar solos from one lyrical stanza to the next, de Groot joining on vocals to deliver what no one knew then was the title of the song in a next-stage kind of arrival that more fully reveals the build that’s been taking place all the while beneath the entrancing sounds on the surface, consciousness buried but by no means absent from the proceedings, just sort of placed to the side in favor of the invitation to the crowd to get lost early and stay that way for the duration. Bass and drums hold steady as the guitar drops the scorch to allow the next verse to begin. Nine minutes have passed, whatever time used to mean, and they get back to what’s now revealed itself as the chorus, and at 10:30, a vocal culmination is met by a heavy surge, winding soloing from de Groot underscoring that first build’s payoff stretch.

It is, as noted, not the last. A jazzy flow distinguishes the next movement of “Grace,” making a Pink Floyd comparison feel both lazy and necessary as it re-coalesces and moves into more angular guitar on either side of the 18-minute mark, and though they hit into some improv-sounding urgency about five-to-six minutes later, they emerge unscathed from the freakout — Loosveldt at the foundation, as ever — as they pass 26 minutes into the track, and from there set up the massive ending noted above, fully hypnotic in going to ground and engrossing in the construction from there, the sense of destination apparent even as the journey there continues as from about 30 minutes on, Temple Fang are fully dug into this procession to be realized from there out, the weight of the lumber a few minutes later nod-rolling until more active guitar kicks in for the outward launch and carries through the (spoiler alert) false peak before they actually get to the top of that (right on) mountain, ending with a brief bit of serenity as they look out from it and see how far they’ve come before a noisy finish reinforces the point.

In releasing “Grace” on Live at Freak Valley, Temple Fang give the moment its due ceremony. The video of the set (filmed by Rockpalast) has been available for some time, but the capture of the song pressed on plastic feels especially crucial in light of the scope of the piece itself, and for those who were there, should be considered nothing less than essential. No brainer. Likewise, if you’ve followed Temple Fang to this juncture, “Grace” comes through as a significant forward step in a hopefully continuing progression of chemistry and craft, and while the single-song-album may be an endgame for many longform acts — one recalls de Groot and Duijnhouwer‘s decade-ago cosmic doom project Mühr offering the 47-minute one-tracker LP, Messiah (discussed here; review here), as their final outing in 2013; this isn’t that in sound or purpose, but it’s a relevant example given the personnel — Temple Fang seem to have found a place from which they can keep exploring, regardless of how long whatever they do next might end up being or not.

So maybe it wasn’t the set they had planned on playing, but Temple Fang‘s will to follow their instinct and bring “Grace” to life in front of the Freak Valley crowd more than earns this preservation. It was one in a weekend of righteous performances, but something special that comes through on Live at Freak Valley as shared between artists, art, and audience that now can stand even longer.

Temple Fang, Live at Freak Valley Festival 2022

Temple Fang on Facebook

Temple Fang on Instagram

Temple Fang on Bandcamp

Electric Spark Records on Facebook

Electric Spark Records on Instagram

Electric Spark Records website

Right on Mountain on Facebook

Stickman Records on Facebook

Stickman Records on Instagram

Stickman Records website

It was covered here last year as well, but just as a refresher: GockelScream is a private festival — if you want to go, you need to write for tickets — put together at the behest of ElbSludgeBooking and held in a secret location in Dürrröhrsdorf-Dittersbach, Germany. And why would such a thing be covered? Well first, because I think it’s awesome and if the notion of attending a private fest with however few other people fortunate enough to do so doesn’t pique your imagination, then the international reach of the lineup hopefully will. Take a look at the day splits below. You’ve got bands from Germany and Austria, of course, but also Israel, the US, Sweden, Poland, France and the Netherlands. For what’s basically a birthday party, that’s some significant reach.

Details, if you want ’em, are available by emailing ElbSludgeBooking, and while no, I don’t think this is going to be the hugest event of the year, I also don’t think it’s trying to be. This is something for friends or those willing to be friends, and if that’s you, then I hope you go and make friends and have a great time watching killer bands. You got Temple Fang and Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree (among others) playing on the same day. Ecstatic Vision and Clouds Taste Satanic meeting up (maybe touring together?), and Deathchant, Karkara, Moonstone and DUNDDW on the last day with a slot still open. Got until May to fill it and there are a ton of acts on the road then around Desertfest and the rest of the Spring festival season. Seems to me there probably won’t be a problem finding someone, it’s just a question of waiting to see who it is.

This is the kind of thing that, if I had all the money in the universe, I’d both host and attend on the regular. Maybe with a different poster, but you get the idea.

From the PR wire:

Gockelscream #4.0

May 26-29 – Dürrröhrsdorf-Dittersbach

Gockelscream #4 will go down in Dürrröhrsdorf-Dittersbach from 26. to 29.05.2023.

So here are the day splits:

Friday: Ecstatic Vision (USA), Clouds taste satanic (USA), Black Smoke (PL), Hypnotic floor (A)

Saturday: The Great Machine (ISR), Temple Fang (NL), Stew (SWE), Bees made honey in the vein tree (GER), Love your witch (ISR)

Sunday: Deathchant (USA), Karkara (FR), Moonstone (PL), DUNDDW (NL)+ slot open still

Line up:

Our goal for GockelScream is always to make it just like a big party with great music. We try to come up with a one-of-a-kind line-up with bands that are not in the normal concert circuit.. Some of the bands play for the first time in our area or even in Germany. This year we wanted to get some more heaviness into the mix too because we are Elb”SLUDGE”booking, okay?

The location:

Last year we had to move the location for the fest and quickly found the perfect match for our purposes. The place in Dürrröhrsdorf-Dittersbach lies in a small valley, next to a small river. It’s a private property and the people there are just super supportive and share our DIY-attitude. We have plenty of space there for lotsa people, camping, 2 stages and the infamous Rattenbar. We couldn’t be more happy.

How to get in:

Write a mail to gockelscream (at) elbsludge.de and you will get all the information you need.

Event page: https://facebook.com/events/1338937726922664/

https://www.facebook.com/Elbsludgebooking/
https://www.instagram.com/elbsludgebooking/

Ecstatic Vision, “You Got it or You Don’t” live at Duna Jam 2022

You’ve got the forerunners of Greek heavy rock in 1000mods as a headliner and Black Rainbows who should have a new record in the can by then, Dutch out-there-searchers Temple Fang and burly Osnabrückian sludge metallers Iron Walrus, Gnome who are frickin’ everywhere right now, Acid Mammoth who crush and I hope have a new LP out this year, Mother Engine, dreamy Darmstadt instrumentalists Lucid Void, plus the eternally weird Beehoover and DŸSE, and did I miss anybody? I don’t think so. In any case, this is pretty strong first announcement from the venerable and long-running Stoned From the Underground Festival in Germany. Set to take place July 13-15, it’s always a spot on the summer’s heavy circuit and an event I’ve admired from afar for a long time even if I haven’t always necessarily covered it. I don’t have an excuse, I’m only one person and I think more than 20 years on from when they started out, the fest needs me to write words about it not in the slightest. They are an institution.

In any case, it’s already a solid assemblage and obviously there’s more to come. Earlybird tickets seem to be on sale now, so if you know you’re going to be in the neighborhood or if you’re putting yourself there for the festival, traveling, etc., you might as well get the bargain. For the rest of us, a bit of daydream fodder:

Dear Stoned community,

So far we’ve been holding back on band announcements, but now we’re really getting started. Enjoy with us:

1000mods
BLACK RAINBOWS
Temple Fang
Acid Mammoth
Mother Engine
DŸSE
Gnome
Beehoover
IRON WALRUS
Swan Valley Heights
Lucid Void
…and more

Daniela Uhlig is already working at full steam on our new artwork for 2023, which will follow in the next few days – stay tuned!

Stoned from the Underground 2023 (Onlineticket): https://events.design-erfurt.de/produkt/sftu-2023/

https://www.facebook.com/stonedfromtheundergroundfestival
https://www.instagram.com/stonedfromtheunderground
http://www.sftu.de/

1000mods, Live on Rockpalast 2022

Picking up from last time, and leading into next time, this episode continues the Some of the Best of 2022 coverage for ‘The Obelisk Show,’ and I feel reasonably comfortable assuming that would come through clearly even if I didn’t say it outright.

You’ll note this one starts pretty heavy and aggro with 16. That’s on purpose. My timeslot on Gimme Metal follows artist-guest specials, and I’ve felt at times in the past like it’s a really abrupt shift from most of those — sometimes death metal, grind, and otherwise extreme — and what I do, which is different. I know that’s the point, but I wanted to see if I could make that transition smoother than it otherwise can be. We’ll see how it goes, I guess.

From there, there’s a good amount of branching out, and while this is by no means all of the killer stuff that 2022 has wrought, my hope is that at least some of the sprawl comes through, some of the combination of new and old bands, and so forth. Next episode, which will be #100 and the last one of the year — bit of an event in the life of the show — will continue the thread.

Thanks for listening if you do, thanks for reading if you are.

The Obelisk Show airs 5PM Eastern today on the Gimme app or at: http://gimmemetal.com.

Full playlist:

The Obelisk Show – 12.09.22 (VT = voice track)

-(16)-	The Floor Wins	Into Dust
Telekinetic Yeti	Rogue Planet	Primordial
Cities of Mars	Towering Graves	Cities of Mars
Colour Haze	See the Fools	Sacred
VT
Moura	Lúa vermella	Axexan, Espreitan
Ufomammut	Pyramind	Fenice
MWWB	Logic Bomb	The Harvest
King Buffalo	Avalon	Regenerator
Geezer	Stoned Blues Machine	Stoned Blues Machine
Charley No Face	Big Sleep	Eleven Thousand Volts
My Sleeping Karma	Prema	Atma
Kadavermarch	The Eschaton	Into Oblivion
Ruby the Hatchet	Soothsayer	Fear is a Cruel Master
UWUW	Landlord	UWUW
Caustic Casanova	A Bailar con Cuarentena	Glass Enclosed Nerve Center
Hazemaze	Ceremonial Aspersion	Blinded by the Wicked
VT
E-L-R	Forêt	Vexier
Temple Fang	Jerusalem	Jerusalem/The Bridge

The Obelisk Show on Gimme Metal airs every Friday 5PM Eastern, with replays Sunday at 7PM Eastern. Next new episode is Dec. 23 (subject to change). Thanks for listening if you do.

Gimme Metal website

The Obelisk on Facebook

One could not accuse Temple Fang of not making the most of their 2022. In addition to following the late-2021 release of their debut album, Fang Temple (review here), with a vinyl issue through Electric Spark this past Spring, signing to Stickman Records to release the 2CD just last month, touring and making stops at the likes of Roadburn, Freak Valley (review here) and frickin’ Duna Jam, releasing 2020’s Live at Merleyn (review here) on tape and hosting their own inaugural Right on Mountain Festival in Nijmegen, the Amsterdam-based four-piece will wrap the year on Nov. 29 — tomorrow — by issuing Jerusalem/The Bridge, a 21-minute, two-song offering on Electric Spark and Right on Mountain that pushes their sound even further.

And in fascinating ways. They offer the narrative below, and the timing is a little opaque, but as the band — guitarist/vocalist Jevin de Groot, bassist/vocalist Dennis Duijnhouwer, guitarist/pianist Ivy van der Veer and drummer Egon Loosveldt — looked to integrate Loosveldt into the lineup, it seems they essentially did so by writing together. “Jerusalem” (10:04) and “The Bridge” (11:44) came about as a part of that. They had already moved forward from Fang Temple, the basic tracks for which were taken from live recordings, and though they were ostensibly touring to support that album, would head out with new songs in tow, and having seen them perform live this summer, I can tell you first hand that what they present on stage is a vision of cosmic psychedelia very much their own.

“Jerusalem” and “The Bridge” capture an emerging duality in progress, structurally and in terms of presentation. Duijnhouwer and de Groot switch out as lead vocalists between the two, and each has a strong persona coming through the material. For Duijnhouwer, he fronts the mellow-space-riffer “Jerusalem” very much in command of the proceedings, not a krautrock auteur — the band’s vibe is too collaborative for such things — but aware of the audience and mindful of the engagement of the listener. a A hairy roll of groove is duly underscored by righteous-punch bass, and a verse/chorus pattern unfolds, molten but catchy, across the song’s first half before a short break of guitar introduces the build on which they’re about to embark.

Enter van der Meer on piano — an element one does not expect (or hope, for that matter) Temple Fang are utilizing for the last time — as an essential part of the lush fluidity that ensues. In plotted but exploratory fashion — that is, they know where they’re going even if they’re willing to throw in a few turns en route — the band coalesce toward a mini-apex, a dropdown and rebuild, pushed into prog territory by Loosveldt‘s snare work alone, never mind the trades in guitar lines between de Groot and van der Meer or the winding conclusion that seems to end the song suddenly despite the distance traveled. “Jerusalem” is vibrant, a push in tempo and rhythm but not a shove, memorable in its early chorus, and it insists on nothing because it doesn’t need to. By the time they’re done with it, the case is well and gorgeously made.

“The Bridge” also has a build, but is less business-up-front-party-in-the-back (the mullet structure) in enacting it. There’s little hint early of the consuming wash of distortion to come, but a standalone guitar introduction clues the listener immediately to the shift toward outright exploration. There are verses, a chorus of sorts, but as de Groot takes over on vocals, with Duijnhouwer seeming to answer each measure of the initial echoing vocal lines on bass, the direction is handwriting-on-page lyrically and there’s a patience in how the track plays out that feels like a departure from “Jerusalem” even as the tonal richness of the guitar and bass is consistent. A second-ish verse is backed by headphone-ready, am-I-imagining-this whispers circa the five-minute mark as the volume continues to grow into the chorus, and it’s when the howl of lead guitar starts that the song reveals its full scope.

The great irony of “The Bridge” is that it never really lets go of its structure. But it sounds like it does. “Jerusalem,” on the other hand, drops the verse/chorus tradeoffs for an instrumental back end while coming across as more straightforward. This is Temple Fang. As “The Bridge” slow-careens through its somewhat understated payoff, it’s more about spiritual realization than pummeling volume, and the execution remains dynamic — which is to say, it’s not like they get to a riff, ride it out for four or eight lines and end the song; there’s more happening — and Loosveldt and Duijnhouwer hold the central progression together even as the guitars seem intent on pulling it apart at around eight minutes in. There’s a comedown, a quick resurgence, and over bass and sparse guitar, de Groot ends with cyclical recitations of the chorus lyric; the band letting go with gentleness that probably shouldn’t be as surprising as it is.

It is a tale of the going and the gone, and what does any of it mean? Well, we exist in an incomprehensible universe that’s either expanding around us at all times every single atom or perhaps already contracting in an unstoppable crush of everything and who the hell even knows. So what does anything mean? We live, maybe, and we die. Maybe there’s solace in that truth — it is a thing to know — but if you want to talk about rock and roll, it means that Temple Fang have left Fang Temple behind, and that their first album, glorious as it was, was not the sum total of what they have to offer by a longshot in sound or style. Not one for betting, but I’d wager Jerusalem/The Bridge isn’t either, and rather that the real heart of the band is in the process of manifestation, the sheer creativity itself. However they choose to interact with their audience, whatever route they take to entrancing the crowd before them, real or imagined, it is the journey that will define them and the journey that they’re for and with which they’re searching and communing.

Jerusalem/The Bridge is streaming in its entirety on the player below, and I feel fortunate to host it ahead of the release tomorrow. The prior-alluded background follows in blue, courtesy of the band.

Thanks and enjoy:

When we found our new drummer Egon Loosveldt in August of 2021 we had 5 weeks with him to prepare for the upcoming run of shows we had booked, the first ‘real’ shows after the pandemic.

Because our first ever jams with him were so inspired, instead of teaching him the old songs we decided we were gonna go off the deep end and write a totally new set of material, a bit of a risky move as we didn’t know how audiences were going to react to us playing all new stuff but a decision essential to us as a band and what we hold sacred, the music and the moment.

We also knew, as the official tour started in April 2022, we wanted to hit the road hard and therefore wouldn’t have time to do much recording. However, when we heard our beloved Galloway Studios in Nijmegen was to be demolished and build back up from scratch at a different location, we knew we wanted one last chance to record there. So in May 2022, after doing three shows in Switzerland and Austria, we drove 700+ miles from Graz to Nijmegen, set up our backline and recorded what was essentially our live set at the time while the building around us was being torn down, slowly covering everything in a layer of dust.

The two songs on this EP represent two different poles of Temple Fang. Sung by Dennis, Side A (“Jerusalem”) is a hard hitter, born from the original sessions with Egon and featuring a surprise turn on piano from Ivy. This take was done right after setting up our gear and checking sounds, the only one we ended up doing of this song.

Sung by Jevin, Side B (“The Bridge”) was a song we had been kicking around for a while, originally intended for “Fang Temple” but not fully realised until a few weeks before this tour. A slow-burner, harboring a lot of tension and not much release. Thanks for listening, XO DD/TF

Jerusalem/The Bridge is released in an edition of 500 on black vinyl, 300 through Electric Spark and 200 through Right on Mountain. Digital through Stickman.

Produced, engineered and mixed by Sebastiaan van Bijlevelt at Galloway Studio, Nijmegen
Assistance by Niek Manders
Mastered by Alex McCollaugh at True East Mastering, Nashville
Art and Design by Right On Mountain
Music by Temple Fang

Temple Fang is:
Dennis Duijnhouwer: Vox, Bass
Jevin de Groot: Vox, Guitar
Ivy van der Veer: Guitar, Piano
Egon Loosveldt: Drums

Temple Fang on Facebook

Temple Fang on Instagram

Temple Fang on Bandcamp

Electric Spark Records on Facebook

Electric Spark Records on Instagram

Electric Spark Records website

Right on Mountain on Facebook

A few different tours coming together here, right? Stoned Jesus, Greenleaf and Somali Yacht Club on the road together. Elder, Pallbearer and Irist. Hippie Death Cult out there on their own now that their would’ve-been-tourmates High Reeper dropped off. Naxatras making the rounds. Sasquatch doing like they do on a stretch with Orange Goblin before continuing a longer European run (you should always stretch first; ain’t nobody getting younger). Electric Citizen out with Fu Manchu. All of this is organized, mapped out ahead of time, and a lot of it is starting this weekend at Up in Smoke 2022 in Pratteln, Switzerland, as though to save you the time, money and effort necessary to hit up all these individual tours, which may or may not be routed everywhere to start with.

You can see the final lineup below with Fu Manchu, Orange Goblin and Elder getting top billing, and as the first of Sound of Liberation‘s Fall festivals in Europe — Keep it Low in Munich and Desertfest Belgium will follow in the coming weeks, and there’s a bunch of others besides — Up in Smoke is distinguished by vibe even more than timing. I’ve always been curious what it would feel like to sleep in the venue after a show. Indoor camping. Are there showers? Could be a pretty smelly affair by the third day; Up in Stink Lines, if you will. But more about the mindset. Are you so locked into the experience at that point that you wake up, find breakfast and are ready to roll as a part of the thing? I’m not sure I’d ever actually be brave enough to do it — not exactly the camping type in any context — but it could be interesting. Sound of Liberation has also posted the time-table, if you’d like to know more about what time to wake up.

The lineup below is final final final, and the day splits make it look like one hell of a festival. If you’re going to be there, I hope it’s a blast. I’d love to hear about it:

UP IN SMOKE 2022 – DAY SPLIT & DAY TICKETS – UP IN SMOKE FESTIVAL Z7 Pratteln 2022

Hey Friends,

we are getting closer and closer!

Check out the festival line up day split below!

Day Tickets are available from now on!

(#127915#)Day Tickets & 3 Day Passes:
www.sol-tickets.com

(#127915#)Day Tickets & 3 Day Passes with sleep over possibility in the venue:
www.z-7.ch

Friday, September 30th:

Fu Manchu
monkey3
Mother Engine
Temple Fang
Electric Citizen
ECHOLOT

Saturday, October 1st:

Orange Goblin
Elder
Sasquatch
Slomosa
Pallbearer
Irist
CARSON
Midnight Deadbeats

Sunday, October 2nd:

Stoned Jesus
Mars Red Sky
Greenleaf
Naxatras
Somali Yacht Club
HALF Gramme of SOMA
Hippie Death Cult

Cheers,
Your SOL-Crew

https://www.facebook.com/events/598002655273695/
https://www.facebook.com/Soundofliberation/
https://www.instagram.com/soundofliberation/
https://www.sol-tickets.com/
http://www.z-7.ch/
https://www.upinsmoke.de

Orange Goblin, Live at Hellfest 2022