Assembled at the behest of SloomWeep Productions and offered as two separate digital compilations, StonedChine Vol. 1 and StonedChine Vol. 2 are specifically focused on the growth of underground heavy sounds in China and the Chinese diaspora. Each volume offers one or two tracks per band and has a runtime that, on its own, would be a 2LP — Vol. 1 is 54 minutes/eight tracks/five bands, Vol. 2 is 63 minutes/six tracks/three bands — if physically pressed. The styles included run a gamut between and sometimes within the bands themselves, as Alpaca from Shanghai lead off with 2019’s single “Drown” (12:04) and the maybe-new “Jauria” (8:03), moving between sludge to psych-dub jamming to grindcore in their first piece while in “Jauria” they use a declarative chug as a backdrop for a Crowbar-style airing of grievances, shifting into a dramatic solo section before looping back to the central riff.

Immediately, StonedChine Vol. 1 claims extremity as part of Chinese heavy, and The Hermit, who close with the whistle-from-the-movie-inclusive “Kill Bill” (6:19) with their Bongzilla-type crust ‘n’ crackle sludge, reinforce the message. But the ‘various artists’ release doesn’t skip on the variety either, as Ramblin’ Roze picks up from Alpaca with a turn toward heavy rock that nonetheless keeps the threat of violent intent palpable with an opening news-broadcast sample about nine hikers being found murdered in the woods.

That song is “Mountain of the Dead” (8:35), and with feedback building behind its start, one expects an onslaught, or, given the content, at very least a madcap boogie in the vein of Japan’s Church of Misery, but the fuzzy roll that ensues is more Uncle Acid in its languidity and guitar interplay, melodic grunge-doom vocals more straightforward to keep up with the tempo boost as they kick into a “Hole in the Sky”-style riff and transition back to the hook with Heaven and Hell-style purpose, lead guitar howling behind the vocals before it goes down the drain at the end. Ramblin’ Roze‘s “Escape” (4:37) is partly acoustic and has an even stronger lead vocal performance, a thick Zeppelin vibe that grows raucous near its conclusion after a relatively peaceful start. They’ve reportedly had lineup changes since 2020’s debut LP, Howl of the Coomb, from which “Mountain of the Dead” is taken as a remaster, but would fit on any number of EU/US heavy rock imprints.

Guangzhou-based deathsludge rockers Rude Gove offer two tracks from last year’s Chirp of Doom in “Save My Soul” (4:15) and “Yeti” (4:15), rawer in production and more beastly in their assault, like they dug a whole in their own low-end mud and decided to record there. Peppered with lead guitar hinting at melody, “Save My Soul” is gritty, low and guttural, and “Yeti” follows suit with a speedier swing and more open cymbal crash, the vocals veering toward cleaner throaty shouts but still with plenty of Carcass-type gurgles to fill it out, catchy and no less coated in dirt-dust for that.

Based in Melbourne, Australia, meditative psych explorers SPAWN issued their righteous Live at Moonah Arts Collective (review here) through SloomWeep in 2021, and are the most tripped-out act on either volume of StonedChine, with “Meditation in an Evil Temple” (6:28) as their lone inclusion, resonant in its worldly acid flow. They’re a sharp curve from Rude Gove just before and they give way to the aforementioned The Hermit to cap Vol. 1, but can’t help but stand out even from the scope of intent Alpaca laid out. Returning to harsh vibes, “Kill Bill” — from The Hermit‘s 2021 The Wall of Desire EP — boasts some subtler layering in the guitar near its finish and is fluid in its movement from one part to the next, making its primary impression in bite with some depth underneath.

Vol. 2 is perhaps more solidified in its methodology, but consistent in the purpose of highlighting the Chinese underground. “My Pet Depression” (8:04) and “Endless Parade” (13:32) come from Apollo 20‘s Endless Parade 10″, released in 2021, and they appeared in succession there as well. The melodies in the vocals of the former remind a bit of Acid Bath‘s brooding slog, but “Endless Parade” offsets its early whispers with blown-out shouts soon enough before re-mellowing and nestling into an engaging solo-topped jam at about six minutes in that carries them for the duration, some cricket chirping added among the light effects swirl to help ease from one to the other.

A lucid ending there lets the punch of bass at the outset of BanyanRiver‘s “The Ghost of Temptation Still Haunts On Me” (15:36) have that much more impact, and as the longest cut on either volume of StonedChine, it declares itself with a patient buildup and a slow, Black Sabbath‘s “Black Sabbath”-type pull in a short opening movement before a dead stop and feedback arrive to announce an ultra-dense janga-janga march. By the time it gets to including what might be vocals beamed in through another dimension, it’s a semi-metallic thrust that will drop to chants and meditative doom, but the bass and drums still hold the march as the guitar gradually freaks out en route to the inevitable noisy ending. “All is One” (7:48) launches from there with standalone chant-like vocals for its first minute-plus, and maintains that ceremonial spirit as it works its way into a central nod, growing furious and punk in its shove at 5:35 and riding that speedier course to its end, laced with feedback.

Bass also introduces HallucinGod‘s “Go Space” (6:49), which is a less-directly sludged nod at first, clean vocals resting atop an angular but flowing doomer riff, turning semi-psych with guitar effects and backing vocals in its midsection before reviving its prior lumber. HallucinGod‘s second track, “Marijuaua Desert” (11:27) (sic), is broader in its arrangement and remains grounded in the kickdrum even as the guitar reaches into ethereal atmospherics branched outward from the solid groove underpinning. Layered group chanting in the verse fascinates and gives over to speech in the left channel and swirl in the right, but the hint toward the intensity to come is in that drum, which grows steadily more active before taking off into a modded High on Fire-style breakout turned almost cosmic in HallucinGod‘s hands, if only momentarily. They’ve grown huge in the interim, which is shown in the slowdown and subsequent roll toward the return of the folk instrumentation that started the track for its ending, which fades out and brings StonedChine Vol. 2 with it.

With more than a few surprises throughout, these two StonedChine compilations get their point across in the freshness of the bands’ approaches to heavy. As SloomWeep posits, the Chinese heavy underground is new — the label counts 2011 as the country’s first stoner-doom show; Never Before (who don’t feature here) played — and many of these acts sound accordingly young, but it’s new bands, new players and new ideas that result in new sounds, and it may be that the bridges being constructed between styles by some of these groups, whether it’s sludgy grind-dub or just an individualized take on doomed psychedelia, will continue to flesh out as the next decade or so plays out. In any case, the mission of StonedChine in showcasing China’s flourishing heavy scene — as well as SloomWeep‘s roster of talent — is unquestionably a success, and coming out of a comp with the homework of more bands to dig into is an ideal made manifest here. It’s not a minor undertaking, but being split between its two volumes helps, and both the educational value for those outside its own geographical sphere and as a listening experience, easily worth the minimal chasedown. All you have to do is be willing to hear something new.

Various Artists, StonedChine Vol. 1 (2023)

Various Artists, StonedChine Vol. 2 (2023)

SloomWeep Productions on Facebook

SloomWeep Productions on Instagram

SloomWeep Productions on Bandcamp

To be withdrawn is the principal aspect of bring a hermit. One pictures the long white beard of someone living in a cave on a hillside, who has removed themself completely from society and would rather be alone. Introversion taken to its most extreme end. Hermits also traditionally have the assumption of some known wisdom. Think of Nietzsche’s Also Sprach Zarathustra. We believe the hermit knows something because, since they choose to eschew human contact, they must invariably spend all that time lost in deep thought. It’s an evocative title for Surya Kris Peters‘ first physically-pressed LP — that being The Hermit, on Electric Magic Records — and the cover of the album shows the figure from the tarot card of the same name, underscoring the notion of wisdom at work behind the pulling of one’s self out of the larger public sphere.

It’s easy to see or at least to read into why Surya Kris Peters — aka Christian Peters, also guitarist/vocalist/spearhead of the off-focus-but-not-entirely-defunct Samsara Blues Experiment — might pick the title. Surya Kris Peters has had a couple digital releases out over the last year, and Peters‘ prior solo-project, Soulitude, collected home recordings for the So Came Restless Night (review here) album in 2013, but still, one might understand The Hermit as a phase in a musical withdrawal into the self, Peters delving in its eight tracks/43 minutes deeply into the roots of his own influences, blending electronic and analog elements for rich, varied, almost-entirely instrumental soundscapes and mood pieces that, in some way, define who he is as an artist at this moment.

It can be a dark vision, as on the penultimate “Chandra Luna,” which starts out with a rare moment of whimsy before shifting into slow-rolling synth march, or on the contemplative grunge minimalist guitar work of the earlier, shorter “Winterbottom.” The lack of vocals across most of the board — something Peters also chose to keep out of 2015’s Status Flux digital-only long-player — adds as much to the evocative feel as it detracts. We aren’t told directly what the percussive start of opener “Eremitage” or its space-synth/sitar are expressing, so we put our own meaning behind it. In that way, The Hermit engages rather than repels, working against its title to bring the audience in, and that’s a thread that continues as the album progresses through “Ragamati”‘s East-meets-West krautrock blend, the melancholy drift of “Snow Feather” after “Winterbottom,” and so on.

Peters seems to be worried less about tying these pieces together than making them complete individually, but The Hermit has a certain kind of flow all the same — one certainly assumes “Moonstruck Serenade” and “Chandra Luna” are related thematically, based on their titles and placement next to each other — and while some cuts are more built up, as is “Ragamati,” a song like “The Legend of Raja Shakuu” basically relies on synth with a background of effects wash for its nine-minute stretch, so the context is fluid depending on the song, and though he quite clearly knows what he’s doing, Peters keeps a sense of experimentalism underlying the material here, so that creative growth is a prevalent aspect of the album’s forward progression. Indeed, it might be the defining characteristic.

Some of the tradeoff there is that at times the experiments can feel more driven by the exploration than songwriting, leaving one to wonder as “Moonstruck Serenade” gives way to “Chandra Luna” what live drums might’ve brought to the proceedings alongside the percussion deep in the mix, or even another player to join in on the fun with the analog synth — how these pieces could continue to be built out. That’s not the mission of The Hermit, obviously, and it’s not as though this material hasn’t been worked over, I’d guess meticulously, in its layering and mix, just that by their very nature, they lead the listener into a creative sphere as well in terms of thinking of directions they could keep reaching further. “Chandra Luna” boasts the only vocals on the album, and they’re buried deep and echoing, chant-like, so not much of an anchor there, and closer “La Morriña” (“the nostalgia”) brings together suitably wistful guitar and underscores it with theremin-esque resonance, giving a sense of weirdness to what would seem to be otherwise unabashed emotionalism.

Maybe part of that undercutting is related to the process of making The Hermit so personal, a deflection of emotional seriousness with humor — one could write a thesis on the psychology of solo albums — but either way, it’s a last-minute moment of quirk to follow-up on the intro to “Chandra Luna” and show that Peters isn’t completely ingrained in the expression of darker sonic ideas. Being so self-contained, Surya Kris Peters as a project seems like the kind that could easily become prolific over the next several years — one might recall that Samsara Blues Experiment worked at a pretty good clip between records as well for a while there — but whatever happens going forward, as the first physical release, The Hermit represents Peters‘ creative breadth well and communicates far more to its audience than its antisocial title might indicate.

Surya Kris Peters, The Hermit (2016)

Electric Magic Records BigCartel store

Electric Magic Records on Thee Facebooks

Electric Magic Records on Bandcamp

Surya Kris Peters, the solo vehicle of Christian Peters, guitarist/vocalist of Samsara Blues Experiment, has two albums under its belt already in last year’s Status Flux and Moonstruck, but The Hermit is the first of his outings to receive a vinyl release. Available to preorder now through Electric Magic Records, the record can also be streamed in full on the label’s Bandcamp (see embed below) and brings together instrumental experimentation and far-ranging psychedelic meditations with a personal sense of intimacy in the creative act. Here delving into classic organ, there exploring a soundscaping drone, it’s an album that has about as many sides to its personality as it has tracks, but there’s a hypnotic current overriding as well, so it’s still possible to get lost in it.

As, of course, you’re welcome to do in checking out the album below. Release info follows:

Kosmic Kris’ new soloalbum LP is now available for preorder. This is limited to only 100 pieces of white wax, with screenprinted artwork and the seductive smell of creativity… don’t expect rock music, expect the higher realm of sonic bliss.

Introspective, contemplative, evocative: SURYA KRIS PETERS is the soloproject of Samsara Blues Experiment-mainbrain Christian Peters. His first LP “The Hermit” offers a selection of the previously only digitally released albums “Status Flux” (Aug 2015) and “Moonstruck” (Jan 2016). “The Hermit” can be seen as a summary of Peters´ musical influences reaching from childhood memories of Mike Oldfield and Bedrich Smetana to adolescent impressions by Trance To The Sun and Saturnia, sprinkles of Krautrock (esp. Popol Vuh and Klaus Schulze), and actual favorites like synthesizer drone-minimalist Eliane Radigue and sounds from Far East by artists like Osamu Kitajima and Ananda Shankar. While being rooted in the early days of electronic music Surya Kris Peters yet takes on a different approach. He masters to add his own perspective to music without being nostalgic.

This first LP-edition is limited to 100 items of virgin-white vinyl with silkscreened artwork and handwritten labels. A true work of art, and soon a collectors item!

1. Eremitage 05:12
2. Ragamati 04:50
3. Winterbottom 02:26
4. Snow Feather 05:35
5. The Legend Of Raja Shakuu 09:18
6. Moonstruck Serenade 02:59
7. Chandra Luna 09:38
8. La Morriña 03:42

http://electricmagic.bigcartel.com/product/surya-kris-peters-the-hermit-lp
https://electricmagicrecords.bandcamp.com/album/the-hermit
https://www.facebook.com/electricmagicrecords/

Surya Kris Peters, The Hermit (2016)