After hearing “Heartbreaker” recently at the Saint Vitus Bar, I broke out Goatsnake‘s first album, I, this past weekend, and it was one of those “holy shit” moments, as in, “holy shit, why don’t I listen to this record more?” I was on a pretty sizable Goatsnake kick for a while there, but like all good kicks, they kind of fell from the consciousness forefront and ‘G’ is a hard space to reach on the shelf and blah blah blah.

The point is that it’s a mistake I’m working to correct. If you need convincing to break some Goatsnake out today, here are five solid reasons you should do so:

1. Because it’s sunny or rainy or whatever.

Unlike most bands, Goatsnake can go with any kind of climactic condition. This is because they play both kinds of music: Stoner and doom.

Sunny day? You’ve got “Slippin’ the Stealth” from the first record ready to go. Rainy as shit? Their version of Sabbath‘s “Who are You?” is fittingly miserable. A band for all days, they were.

2. Because unless you’re one of 30 people, you haven’t seen this video.

Someone took it upon themselves to make an animation for the song “Raw Curtains” from 2000’s Dog Days EP. Check it out:

3. Because of Greg Anderson’s guitar tone.

This one kind of goes without saying, but seriously, when was the last time you heard a Sunn amp do that? Okay, it probably hasn’t been so long at this point, but when was the last time you heard a Sunn amp do that in 1999? They were truly ahead of their time.

4. Because Pete Stahl is a weirdo.

See also: earthlings? You could write a masters thesis on the layering and the melodies thrown into “IV” from the first record — and don’t think I haven’t wanted to — but whatever level you want to approach it on, the way Stahl rides that groove is unreal. He’s basically riff-surfing. Not to mention Guy Pinhas‘ bass line. Seriously, if you’re not listening to Goatsnake yet, try and resist this:

5. Because if we all do it, maybe they’ll tour.

I’m not going to say I want a new Goatsnake record, because I think all these dudes, including Stuart Dahlquist (Asva) who played bass on the second record, Flower of Disease, and drummer Greg Rogers (also, like Pinhas, of The Obsessed) have other stuff going on, but a couple East Coast shows would be much appreciated, like one in my back yard with the bug zapper going. Let’s try and make that happen.

Sure, you might know Mighty High guitarist/vocalist Chris “Woody High” MacDermott from the periodic “Spine of Overkill” columns he writes for this site, or maybe from his posts on the forum (he’s Woody, duh), but here’s something you probably didn’t know about him. He is a man with a very specific ability. Where some are engineers and others painters and still others painting engineers, our friend Woody has a unique gift. He can turn anything you say – literally anything – into a pun about weed. Now, that might not sound that impressive, but imagine how far away some of the shit you say on a daily basis is from being about weed. Phrases like, “I have to get my oil changed,” and, “Have you seen that shipping invoice?” are just as subject to his individual skillset as something like, “Do you have any cookie dough because I’m bombed off my ass?” might be. Not only is he a master of the weedy pun, but he’s actually clever about it. Aside from being funny because they’re about weed and because he makes them so quickly and so constantly, they’re good puns. And I like puns whether they’re good or bad, so good ones are like a bonus.

Mighty High’s Legalize Tre Bags plays out like the wholesale embodiment of this ethic: Take your life, make it about weed. Joining Woody in his mission are drummer Jesse D’Stills, bassist Matt “Labatts” Santoro and guitarist Kevin Overdose, the latter two having come aboard following the release of the band’s last full-length, …In Drug City (review here). The album is a joint issue (get it?) between Ripple Music and the band’s own Mint Deluxe Tapes (“tapes” being another sort of running gag Woody has going), and basically what you’re getting when you pop it on either in download, CD or gorgeous deluxe gatefold vinyl form is 33 minutes of stoner punk charm. The band offers no quarter for their influences – Motörhead, The Stooges, Black Flag, Black Sabbath, Slayer, etc. – and right from the start of the 1:16 opener “I Don’t Wanna Listen to Yes,” they are a striking reminder of just how far the rest of the world has its head up its own ass and how everyone else who claims to not take themselves too seriously still does. If they didn’t, they’d be Mighty High, ripping through the 11 tracks of Legalize Tre Bags (think a dime bag, but smaller) like the salve to soothe an infection of self-indulgent hipster Brooklones.

They show their native borough some love in “Come on! I’m Holdin’,” and cuts like “Mooche,” “Cheap Beer, Dirt Weed,” “Tokin’ and Strokin’” and “Loaded Loaded” all deal with the various sides of drug culture – mostly the side that likes to get fucked up. “Drug War” manipulates samples of Ronald Reagan à la Ministry to make it seem like the former president is calling out George Bush for smoking pot, and album highlight “Chemical Warpigs” is not only the best pun on the record, but the kind of innate genius that has you wondering why no one before was able to put those two ideas together – the references seem obvious, but I’ll say anyway it’s Slayer’s “Chemical Warfare” and Sabbath’s “War Pigs,” and the song takes musical parts from both like an organic mashup that, unlike every mashup I’ve ever heard, doesn’t suck. At a ranging 4:16, “Chemical Warpigs” is the longest song on Legalize Tre Bags, but Mighty High offer no letup on charm, which is pretty much what lets them get away with this level of musical shenanigans without completely falling on their face.

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After a week that was fairly heavy on the self-releasing bands — what with Arrowhead, Black Space Riders, Crystal Head, Biblical and Sanctus Bellum — it seems only fitting to cap off with the likes of Borracho, who are one of the strongest yet-to-be-aligned heavy rock groups in the US right now, at least as far as I’m concerned. They released the above video for the track “Concentric Circles” from their 2011 Splitting Sky full-length debut while I was away, so not having had the chance to post it yet, it seems only fitting to do so now. Better late than never, and so forth.

All the better better late than never too, because it just so happens Borracho have a ton going on right now. They’re playing SHoD again this year, driving north to Connecticut for it, and I very much look forward to seeing them there. And I don’t know who else is involved, but they’re slated to have a track on an upcoming compilation from the Ripple Effect blog, and they’re currently in the studio wrapping some other material. Meanwhile, the Splitting Sky track “All in Play” will also get the video treatment come next month. So there’s much in the works for the Washington D.C. outfit, who — again — are just a killer band. Splitting Sky grew on me something fierce and continued to do so well after I reviewed it. I didn’t think much of it at first, but it turned out to be an album I just couldn’t put down.

In fact, thinking of it now, I can’t help but wish I brought the record with me to Connecticut, where I am for the weekend as is often my wont (and my want) in the summertime. I’ll be here until at least Sunday, which is refreshing, as I worked late every night this week and slept poorly, etc. Hopefully over this long Memorial Day weekend, I’ll have a chance to catch my breath a little bit, rejuvenate some and maybe not be such a miserable bastard when forced to return to real life. I won’t hold out much hope for that last potentiality — damn these unrealistic expectations! — but the rest doesn’t seem out of reach. Not while I’m here, anyhow.

Wherever you are, please be safe this weekend. Every other commercial I heard on the radio on the way up here was like, “If you drive drunk the cops are gonna rape your soul,” so please, take care out there. I’ll be kicking around on the forum every now and again and I’ve got a ton of email I need to answer — a really pathetic amount; I’m sorry if you’ve gotten in touch lately and I haven’t yet responded — but in general I’m going to try to have a good time and I hope you do the same.

Next week I’ll have new audio from Wino (you’ll never guess what day) and Black Shape of Nexus and, provided I have time to transcribe it, a truly epic interview I did the other day with Stephen Flam of Winter. It was badass, and definitely worth staying tuned for. It’s also friends-reviews week, where I won’t even attempt to feign impartiality in reviewing buddies’ bands. That’ll be fun, and I hope for you too. Please feel free to keep in touch via comments, likes, shares, email, forum posts, or whatever your preferred method as we move through this thing, and most of all, thanks for reading this week. More to come.

I could go through some big longwinded explanation and say I bought Abramis Brama‘s 2005 fourth album, Rubicon, because I think it’s important or has some measure of standing in the lore of Swedish heavy and/or classic rock, but fuck it. I bought this record because I wanted to hear it and that’s the story. I’d seen a couple things kicking around saying it’s the way to go as regards the Stockholm homage-payers, and I figured it was high time I picked up the album and gave it a real shot.

It’s not my first experience with the four- and apparently sometimes five-piece. I’ve written about them a few times here, including a review of their last album, 2009’s Smakar Söndag, which I dug a lot. They’re one of what seems to not be that many Swedish acts who refuse to sing in English, and though I speak literally no Swedish, I still have to admire the ethic. They compromised on it just once, but even the title of Nothing Changes — the 2003 English-language sidestep predecessor of Rubicon — seems to throw a middle finger up at the very idea of changing their approach. Some stubbornness is awesome, and with Rubicon, Abramis Brama went back to their mother tongue with a vengeance.

By the way, I’m assuming that along with Swedish their mother tongue is “riff,” because as much as they speak one language, they certainly also speak the other. Rubicon is about as genuine a modern interpretation of classic heavy rock as I’ve ever heard come out of Sweden, Abramis Brama having clearly honed their craft in the first eight years of their existence (they formed in ’97 and debuted with 1999’s Dansa Tokjävelns Vals) to a point where they could expand comfortably and put their own stamp on the form. I’m sure I won’t be the first to compare Ulf Torkelsson‘s vocals to Chris Cornell, but whether it’s the prog ending of “Guldgruva” or the pure “Dazed and Confused”-style chorus of the nine-minute “För Mitt Blödande Hjärta,” Torkelsson gives an absolutely killer showing. Pipes for days, it seems.

Speaking of “För Mitt Blödande Hjärta,” though, I had a head-turning moment when that chorus kicked in and immediately went back to Graveyard‘s “The Siren” from Hisingen Blues, which seems to have adapted pretty much the same progression to suit its own ’70s-worshiping purposes. Cool to hear something Abramis Brama were doing more than half a decade beforehand and give another context to the work of their countrymen, but really, the highlight of Rubicon isn’t comparing it to what’s come before or after, it’s enjoying its open, natural grooves on their own level. The more I listen to Abramis Brama and the more of their albums I hear — I’m coming for you, När Tystnaden Lagt Sig… — the more I appreciate what they’re doing both ethically and musically. The refusal to compromise coupled with the righteously formidable riffing of Per-Olf Andersson, the bass of Dennis Berg and Fredrik Jansson‘s drums on Rubicon are like a dogwhistle signalling a love of heavy rock. I can hear it, I can dig it, whatever language Torkelsson is speaking.

So mark Rubicon down among the slew of killer records I’ve picked up and wanted to recommend to anyone who might be open to such a recommendation. Their obvious love of the classics speaks for itself when you listen, so I’m going to leave it at that and put on the especially killer “Drottning Av Is” instead. Hope you dig it:

The same lineup that brought forth Aussie trio Arrowhead’s self-titled demo in 2009 returns for the self-released full-length Atomsmasher, a 10-track collection of straightforward fuzz jams that keeps holy a sort of stoner rock traditionalism. Nods to mid-period Fu Manchu abound both in sonics and the laid back atmosphere that pervades despite the tonal heaviness, the vocals of guitarist Brett Pearl having more in common here with Scott Hill’s delivery than there seemed to be on the introductory offering. Atomsmasher stays to verse/chorus delivery and presents itself as a collection of songs – that is, no discernible narrative thread running through or tracks bleeding directly into each other – typified by driving riffs, the warm, complementary bass work of Dave Lopez and strong choruses anchored by Matt Cramp’s groove-heavy drumming. It’s a record that establishes its ideas quickly but grows in appeal on subsequent listens, and whereas some of these songs seem at first to be acting as anchors for the tracks surrounding – take opener “Cobra DeVille,” “Blood from a Stone,” “Eagle Death Machine” and closer “Mayflower” as examples of the songwriting at its strongest – further investigation shows “Horse Called Doom,” “Stampede,” and “Holdfast” standing up in terms of quality, even if they’re not as immediate in doing so.

Looking at how Atomsmasher is structured, the aforementioned highlights come spaced apart with two songs between each (the exception being “Mayflower,” which ends the album), and whether that’s on purpose on the part of Arrowhead or just how the tracklisting felt right when they started to put it together, it shows an intriguing drive toward symmetry that the songs mirror in their own individual constructions. Make no mistake: Arrowhead have made a rock record, but it’s never that simple, and there are nuances of tone and phrasing on Atomsmasher, musically and vocally, that remind of just that point. Not that they’d tell you that. Or at least not that they’d tell you that while making the memorable hook of “Cobra DeVille” sound like something that just happened, anyway. Cramp fills out the drum lines while start-stop riffing lays a bed for leads for Pearl in the bridge, and then they unleash one of Atomsmasher’s best choruses in a fashion that’s pure The Action is Go. I’m not about to begrudge Arrowhead digging on some Fu Manchu, and they throw in some Kyuss/Slo Burn-type desert rocking for “Cobra DeVille” – which takes its title from the original name of the band – and the following title-track, which is a little more insistent in its drumming and freewheeling in transitional guitar leads from Pearl, despite keeping the Hill-esque vocal.

If it’s possible, “Horse Called Doom” is even more fuzzed out, the rhythm reminding some of the tension Dozer created on their first album, but solidly working in its own sphere to set up “Blood from a Stone” as the second of Atomsmasher’s four trail-marker choruses. Pearl takes an opportunity to recount a workingman’s blues lyrically while the guitars trip out a little more on effects during the verse, leaving Lopez and Cramp to keep the groove going, which of course they do with no trouble whatsoever. It’s the first of several tracks to top five minutes, but they put that time to good use with riffs and a decently-balanced instrumental break in which lead guitar permeates but doesn’t dominate any more than it should, defying expectation just a bit in extending another couple measures before kicking back into the chorus one last time. Just when you think they might solo themselves into oblivion, they pull it back, ending firm on two quickly-faded hits following the last chorus, setting up “Diamonds to Dust” as the end of the first side.

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Seattle bombast specialists Akimbo were a noisy iceberg of soul in a sea of jive turkeys. News of their breakup came my way (as a lot of news does) on the forum, and as much as I enjoyed the self-titled debut from the offshoot band Sandrider (review here) when it came out last December, it’s still a bummer to see Akimbo officially call it quits. I have fond memories of catching them in New York in 2005/2006 and having them pretty much blow away everyone in the room, myself included. Their albums were killer — right up to the last one, 2008’s Jersey Shores — but live, they were a fucking beast.

At least they’re going out in style with support from Tad Doyle‘s monstrous Brothers of the Sonic Cloth — put an album out so I can slobber all over it, would you? — at their last show. Here’s the poster for the gig, which looks like something out of my worst Legend of Zelda nightmares.

Awesome:

Goes without saying (and yet here I am, saying it) that if you’re anywhere near Seattle when this shindig goes down, it’s highly recommended.

Primo makers of Midwestern mischief, it’s nonetheless been nearly four-friggin’ years since the last Bible of the Devil album came out, so the arrival of For the Love of Thugs and Fools is well received. The Chicago four-piece’s last album, 2008’s Freedom Metal, was a highlight of that year, crisply produced by Sanford Parker and maybe not capturing the band’s live sound — driven ever forward by their dual (also “duel” in the sense that they seem to be in an eternal battle against that which is neither awesome nor about the night) proto-NWOBHM guitars — but still presenting their best collection of songs to date. With For the Love of Thugs and Fools, though, the date just changed.

The album — which, much to my shame, hasn’t been reviewed yet (I said I was deprioritizing digital promos and I meant it); though I did premiere a track — is rawer than was its predecessor, but even so, it’s immediately clear that the foursome of guitarist/vocalists Mark Hoffmann and Nate Perry, bassist Darren Amaya and drummer Greg Spalding put whatever time they actually had apart between touring and releasing splits with Züül, Blade of the Ripper and Winterhawk to good use. For the Love of Thugs and Fools not only matches Freedom Metal punch for punch in having two songs with the word “night” in the title, but it surpasses that album in its more natural feel, the band returning to producer Mike Lust, who helmed some of their earliest recordings.

What’s more, Bible of the Devil hold a special place in Obelisk lore and personally for me for being the first interview I ever posted on this site, so it was an extra pleasure to speak to Hoffmann again about For the Love of Thugs and Fools and what he and the rest of the band has done in the years since issuing Freedom Metal. Same as last time, he wasn’t as much of a talker as some others, but nonetheless friendly and especially open when it came to discussing the band’s ongoing friendship with San Francisco’s Slough Feg, with whom they’ve toured several times over and are planning to release a split 10″. The ongoing theme of the night in Bible of the Devil song titles — as witnessed on “I Know What is Right (In the Night)” and “Night Street” on this album and “Hijack the Night” and “Night Oath” on the last — comes from a running gag between the two acts, and when I brought it up, I could almost hear the smile through the phone along with the prevailing laughter.

So while the following discussion is relatively short, take that as an extension of Bible of the Devil‘s penchant for rock classicism mixed with their no-bullshit ethic — both equally admirable traits. We still found room to talk about the correlation between “Ol’ Girl” from Freedom Metal and “Yer Boy” from For the Love of Thugs and Fools, the band’s changing tour ethic, songwriting methods and ongoing affection for all things Thin and Lizzy.

Full Q&A can be found after the jump. Please enjoy.

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True, I don’t know if jogging their collective memory was Black Space Riders‘ motivation behind making this video comprised of footage — mostly wall-eyed, some not — of their 2012 “Louder than Light” tour supporting their sophomore album, Light is the New Black (review here), but if it was, “Lights Out” is the perfect song for it. Not only because the tour clips feature a decent amount of boozing, but also because it’s insanely catchy. If you’re trying to get something stuck in your head, “Lights Out” is a good place to start.

Looks like the tour was a blast as well. Certainly enough so to give them material for the video. Heads up, some of the shots where the camera is attached to the guitar kind of made me dizzy, but still good fun. They’re even in color for a little bit at the end, which seems to be something of a rarity for Black Space Riders. Here’s the clip: