Posted in Bootleg Theater on December 25th, 2013 by JJ Koczan
I’m not sure when exactly this Spirit Caravan show was. Right before they play “Elusive Truth,” Wino announces it as the title-track of their new record, which will be out this fall. Elusive Truthwas released in May 2001, which makes me think maybe this was earlier in 2000 and then the album was pushed back, but I don’t actually know that. The show took place at the 8×10 Club in Baltimore, and having just made my way through the whole thing, it’s a balcony-shot scorcher of a gig. The video loses its sync after about 35 minutes, but even then it makes a killer listen, and anyway it’s not that bad when it’s off.
Here’s the setlist:
Spirit Caravan, Live at 8×10 Club, Baltimore, MD
Spirit Caravan
Black Flower
Healing Tongue
Dreamwheel
Darkness and Longing
Retroman
Elusive Truth
Futility’s Reasons
Lost Sun Dance
Good show. You get to see Sherm step up for lead vocals on “Retroman” and though Spirit Caravan‘s persona was usually brighter, less bleak than, say, The Obsessed, a few cuts here sort of skirt that line. Still though, with Wino, Sherman and Gary Isom, you can’t go wrong. It’s worth noting that I am in no way over my excitement at the prospect of getting to see these guys play a show with their impending 2014 reunion. Rumor has it some US dates are impending in addition to their previously-announced Desertfest appearances, but nothing’s official yet. Wherever they wind up playing on the East Coast and whenever it is, I can’t imagine I won’t make the drive. Hell, I’ve already got the car packed.
While I wait for that and the invariable new live videos to this series it will bring, there’s plenty to post in the meantime. Today is Xmas, so in addition to a great Wino Wednesday, I hope you have a spectacular holiday. Enjoy:
The end of any year always brings a barrage of best-ofs. Lists, radio shows, award ceremonies, and even podcasts. What no one tells you about any of them is there’s no fucking way they can ever be comprehensive. My Top 20 list? It was damn good and I worked really hard putting it together, but was I toiling under the delusion that it was going to be an accurate and complete representation of everything 2013 had on offer? Hell no. That’s why we have the Readers Poll, the Albums Unheard list (still to come) and all the rest of the wrap-up stuff.
So as you check out this happens-to-be-the-last-of-2013 podcast, please keep in mind that though it does feature a sampling of some of 2013’s most killer songs from some of its most killer albums, it’s not at all intended to be a total roundup of this year. It’s a part of it, and I’m cool with that if you are.
It’s Xmas Eve as I put this together, and it’s looking like this’ll be my only post for today, so I’ll take another opportunity to wish you a happy holiday if you’re celebrating. Please be safe and enjoy time with family, gift-giving, and of course, good music. I don’t know if grandma would really get down to some Phantom Glue, but seems like it’s worth a shot.
First Hour:
Clutch, “D.C. Sound Attack” from Earth Rocker (2013)
Monster Magnet, “Last Patrol,” from Last Patrol (2013)
Church of Misery, “Cranley Gardens (Dennis Andrew Nilsen)” from Thy Kingdom Scum (2013)
Phantom Glue, “Bow in the Dust” from A War of Light Cones (2013)
Pelican, “The Tundra” from Forever Becoming (2013)
Young Hunter, “Trail of Tears” from Embers at the Foot of Dark Mountain (2013)
All Them Witches, “The Death of Coyote Woman” from Lightning at the Door (2013)
Black Thai, “Doors to Nowhere” from Season of Might (2013)
Gozu, “Charles Bronson Pinchot” from The Fury of a Patient Man (2013)
Geezer, “Ancient Song” from Gage EP (2013)
T.G. Olson, “Unsung Everyone” from Hell’s Half Acre (2013)
Second Hour:
Fuzz, “One” from Fuzz (2013)
Wooden Shjips, “Servants” from Back to Land (2013)
Fever Dog, “Lady Snowblood/Child of the Netherworlds,” from Lady Snowblood (2013)
Samsara Blues Experiment, “Brahmin’s Lament” from Waiting for the Flood (2013)
Vista Chino, “Planets 1 & 2” from Peace (2013)
Uncle Acid and the Deadbeats, “Valley of the Dolls” from Mind Control (2013)
The Golden Grass, “One More Time” from One More Time b/w Tornado (2013)
Beelzefuzz, “Lonely Creatures” from Beelzefuzz (2013)
Posted in Features on December 23rd, 2013 by JJ Koczan
I know, I know. There’s been a pretty fair amount said about Lumbar‘s The First and Last Days of Unwelcome around here, from the announcement to the interview, album review, and best of list, and I can’t really promise this’ll be the last of it, but a few words and then I’ll leave it alone for a while. There were plenty of other contenders for the best debut of 2013, whether it was reinvigorated veterans in Vista Chino or newcomer innovators like Beelzefuzz, but in the end, I had to go with what’s more likely than not a one-off from (left to right above) Mike Scheidt (YOB), Tad Doyle (TAD, Brothers of the Sonic Cloth), and Aaron Edge (Roareth, Iamthethorn, etc.) for two reasons: Urgency and the moment.
Urgency because of the music itself — the overlaid screams and moans that top the thunderous descending progression of “Day Two,” the lost-in-a-fog feel of “Day Four,” the weeping guitar chaos of “Day Three.” The First and Last Days of Unwelcomepacked an entire discography’s worth of heavy into a 24-minute release, and even at its nadir of volume in the droning and far-off vocal tunnel of “Day Five,” was intense beyond the point of exhaustion, Edge working through the trauma of being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in the best way he knew how: By recording an album. The urgency comes through in the complete immersion of an emotional state, in the turbulence that bleeds from every second of these seven songs, and in the un-concluded feel of the last, which machine-drones itself to a finish as if to indicate the utter lack of an ending to Edge‘s ongoing story.
And the moment. Yes, it’s awesome that Scheidt, Doyle and Edge came together to all work on an album, but more than that, it’s how they came together and that the result was this album. The story of Edge recording the instrumental parts while laid up in bed, in real, physical pain, is excruciating, but it’s how that is translated into the songs that gives them such power. To be able to hone that, and then bring Scheidt and Doyle into the fold and make The First and Last Days of Unwelcome complete is capturing an entirely different kind of moment; the special nature of the collaboration in concept and execution is undersold by any “supergroup” tag you might want to instill. Lumbar proved to be beyond that, a fleeting and daringly honest slice of life that didn’t want pity or sympathy or anything other than to search out some meaning in what seemed void outstretched.
To call it a “debut” implies there might be a follow-up, and it seems unlikely at this point that there will, but even so, no first outing crashed quite as hard into the consciousness in 2013 as Lumbar‘s The First and Last Days of Unwelcome, and if it’s a call that never gets its answer, there’s no doubt in my mind its echo will last a long, long time.
Now I’ll shut up about it.
Lumbar, The First and Last Days of Unwelcome (2013)
Posted in Questionnaire on December 23rd, 2013 by JJ Koczan
There are very few in or around heavy rock in any of its iterations who can boast a resumé to rival that of Scott Reeder. As bassist in Acrossthe River with Mario Lalli (Fatso Jetson), Mark Anderson and Alfredo Hernandez (later Kyuss), he took part in one of the formative moments of desert rock, and would later reinforce its ascent in Kyuss, playing on their seminal final two albums only after joining with Scott “Wino” Weinrich in the revitalized The Obsessed for their 1991 outing, Lunar Womb. He played on Unida‘s unreleased masterpiece, joined Goatsnake for the 2004 Trampled Under Hoof EP, and released a solo record, TunnelVision Brilliance, in 2006, all the while making a name for himself as a recording engineer and producer for the likes of Orange Goblin, SunnO))), Whores of Tijuana, The Freeks and Sixty Watt Shaman — later also recording in his Sanctuary Studio in the desert with Karma to Burn, Black Math Horseman, Sonic Medusa, Dali’s Llama and Blaak Heat Shujaa, among many others. His vocal contribution to “Garden Sessions III” from Yawning Sons‘ 2009 debut, Ceremony to the Sunset, remains a high point of that album.
In 2013, he found chart success contributing bass to the single “From Can to Can’t” on the Sound City: Real to Reelsoundtrack to Dave Grohl‘s Sound Citydocumentary, and in November he made his debut with Sun and Sail Club on their first outing, Mannequin, adding his bass to the guitar of Bob Balch and the drums of (a different) Scott Reeder, both of Fu Manchu.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Scott Reeder
How did you come to do what you do?
It’s in my blood — all four of my Grandparents have been musicians. My parents played music together before I was even born… so it’s always been a big part of my life. I’ve had a few non-musical detours in my life, but I always seem to gravitate back to being in or around it.
Describe your first musical memory.
My Grandparents on my Mom’s side would have jazz jam sessions at their house a lot when I was very young. My Grandpa is still one of the best guitarists I’ve ever seen, but I would always be drawn to the bass amp, and I’d sit right in front of that amp for hours, feeling that thump, and hearing the walking bass lines weaving through the music. That guy’s name was Sid Fridkin — I was always amazed at how he knew the perfect “weird” notes to throw in.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
I would have to say jamming in the Across the River days, around 1985 and ’86, with Mario Lalli and Alfredo Hernandez. We were really just starting out, and loved playing, and began getting better and better at expressing ourselves — it was really exciting to start realizing that we could do anything we set our minds to! Our garage was insulated pretty well and we painted glow in the dark stars all over — we’d jam for hours, exploring every weird little idea that came up… Mario and I both had our future wives, Nana and Renee living there with us, too — it was a magical time. And after our friend Dave Travis introduced us to the generator and we’d played a few crazy parties outside, we discovered it was nice just to go out ourselves into the desert and just jam under the real stars. The best times for me were when we just went out with our very close friends… it was peaceful, and inspiring. Later on, it turned into big parties, and eventually just got out of control. Knives, guns, fires, police… but the early days were pretty fucking awesome.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
I had an out-of-body experience when I was 16, when I was fully conscious, before I’d had any sort of mind-altering substance. I was playing trombone with the local college’s jazz band, sight-reading a really tough chart with the band, when I “popped out” — I was looking back at myself from a few feet away, and I could hear every note coming out perfectly, even though I wasn’t conscious whatsoever of reading the music. There was a complete calm, like the quiet of diving under water and not moving… and then I snapped back to struggling through the chart. It seemed perfectly natural when it happened, but when I was waiting afterward for my Mom to pick me up, I realized it was a little weird. I had no idea what had just happened, but I stumbled upon a book a few months later about OBE’s called The Astral Experience, and it documented people trying to reach the experience with LSD. And so that became my next journey at age 16, before I’d even tasted a beer or took a puff off a joint. To this day, that book is on a table in our bathroom for our guests to check out… That initial experience made me believe that our spirit is indeed separate from the body.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
I usually don’t have much to write about unless something is really eating at me. I’ve been in the studio singing a few times with tears streaming down my face, but then it gets transformed into something I can embrace — it’s like therapy, I guess. Recording some of them have been pretty painful, but it’s a huge catharsis to get it out, and it feels good when it resonates with a few people. As far as progression goes… I don’t think I’m going to have an epiphany someday on how to write a hit song, or anything. I’ve got all the tools I need to express myself — I suppose the songs will just slowly follow the course of my life over time. I’m not very prolific, but that’s fine — I don’t have a deal with a label breathing down my neck for “product.” I just trickle stuff out on iTunes or whatever… slow motion is fine for me. And I guess that if I only write when things are bugging me… then the fewer times I have to go through the process, the better!
How do you define success?
That’s a tricky one. There are small successes possible every day, striving to be the best you can be at everything you do, whether it be putting down a bass track or raking up some horse shit. Laughing with each other. Enjoying the simple pleasures. Life is in a constant state of flux — at the end, it won’t matter how much money you made, or how many things you acquired. I’ve lived among the rat race, with everyone stepping over each other, not thinking of any consequence to stabbing each other in the back — that’s not the life for me at all. I’ve tried to slow down my life, keeping it as simple as I can, for the most part. There have been some bumps in the road over the last couple of years, but it’s inspired me to focus on what’s important on a deeper level, I think, and I’m still searching. But I think the most important thing we can do, is to do our best to elevate each other.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
Well… I guess this is supposed to be an ugly one. After my Mom passed away a couple of months ago, she was laid out on her bed. The coroner was running very late, so it was great to be able to take our time saying goodbyes. However, I was alone in the room about six hours in, and dark fluid started coming out of her mouth — I tried to quickly clean her face so that her husband and his kids and grandchildren and my brother wouldn’t have to see that, but it started streaming out faster than I could wipe it away, as I was desperately trying to keep everyone out of the room. That image will always haunt me. On the positive side, hopefully it helps me to process the reality of her death a little quicker. But, no rush…
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
Hmmm… That would be our future swimming pool with a guest cabana and a big patio for barbecues!
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
That would definitely be the next time I take my horse out for a ride. That’s probably the only time I’m really away from music, even though you get completely enmeshed into the rhythm of the horse’s gait. It’s like a meditation, becoming one with the horse — it clears my head and calms me. I should be doing it every day, but I get busy…
Posted in Reviews on December 23rd, 2013 by JJ Koczan
It’s with a dark, brooding and at times extreme take on (e)visceral sludge that Australian five-piece Clagg return on their fourth full-length, Gather Your Beasts. The two-guitar/standalone-vocal outfit were last heard from with 2009’s Lord of the Deep (review here), which saw reissue in 2011 on Obsidian Records. Gather Your Beasts is self-released, but that’s not to say a similar fate doesn’t await it, because if anything, it’s Clagg‘s most realized outing yet, casting off some (not all) of the heavy rock sway in their riffs in favor of focusing on bleaker and tighter-feeling material. Guitarists Anthony Viccars and Dav Byrne lead the charge, with bassist Dase Beard and drummer Tim Byrne marking the progress of their lurching plod with some sizable footprints. Dase and Dav are new as of this collection, but if there’s an even bigger difference to be heard between Gather Your Beasts and Clagg‘s prior output, it’s in Scott Williams‘ vocals.
Tonally, the five mostly-extended tracks of Gather Your Beasts— the longest is opener “Five Curses” (immediate points) at 11:22 and the shortest is closer “Pathways to Oblivion” at 6:30 — are rife with cavernous echo, and where the last time out, Williams was charged with cutting through and dominating the rumble, right from the start of “Five Curses” he comes on buried, overwhelmed by the tidal riffs, carried out with them on undulating groove. The effect is to give the impression of even greater tonal largesse, and it works well, somewhere along the lines of an unritualistic Ramesses, less candlelit-ceremony and more burn-the-fucking-house-down. Neither feedback nor eardrums are spared throughout, “Five Curses” (the title maybe a reference to the five band members or to the album’s five tracks or both) unfolding to a rolling riff not without a sense of bounce punctuated by Tim‘s snare, as Williams unfurls tradeoffs of lower growling and high-pitched screams. Over the course of the title-track and “The Great Mortality,” they vary the level of extremity somewhat, even getting into a stoner shuffle for a stretch in the latter and giving Williams space for spoken word over ambient guitar in the former, but the brutality is never far off and always seems to make a return at just the right time.
That is to say, the crux and the resounding impression of the album is its heft and that already-noted brutality. Clagg use it well. As a centerpiece to the CD/digital version of Gather Your Beasts — which nonetheless is a vinyl-ready 44 minutes long — “The Great Mortality” takes the buried-vocals and crushing riffs and speeds them up for at least half of the song’s 7:51, starting out with a tense build on drums and guitar before the full rush is let loose. And when it slows down, it’s no less massive than anything else here, though the vocals are more forward than in some places preceding a mournful dirge of a solo that gradually rises from the agonized progression that marches into a fade, leaving the bass as a transition into the more definitively Sleep-via-Weedeater-style boogie that begins “The Dream is Dead.” If Clagg are stoner rock anywhere on the album, it’s here, but the classic heavy swagger is shortlived here as well — maybe that’s the dream dying — and in any case the vocals give it an entirely sludgier edge. So where does it hit the wall? Just about at the four-minute mark it seems like Clagg might be full-on ready to roll, and that’s when “The Dream is Dead” slams headfirst into feedback and excruciating tempo shift. Like someone hit the vibe in the face with a shovel.
Obviously that’s what Clagg are shooting for, so I wouldn’t call “The Dream is Dead” anything other than a success. It might be even more of one than “The Great Mortality,” which is similar in both title and construction, since there’s a more projected sense of build in the later, penultimate track. Eventually, though, the 10-minute “The Dream is Dead” stomps to a noisy, feedback-drenched finish and bleeds directly into “Pathways to Oblivion” as the final cut on Gather Your Beasts, which given the melee surrounding and the sprawl of “The Dream is Dead” seems short at 6:30 but winds up as more than an afterthought, keeping consistently to a pace that finds the middle ground between the duality in “The Great Mortality” and “The Dream is Dead” and rides it to a raucous, solo-topped finish before descending into a minute-plus of effects noise to close out. Clagg remain somewhat undervalued coming into Gather Your Beasts, and while one is hesitant to make “they’re gonna be huge” predictions because frankly that kind of thing depends on more than just the quality of a release and to say otherwise is needless hyperbole, their fourth album is at least worthy of the attention it seems to be demanding, and with the depth of its production, stylistic cohesion and the effort of presentation, Clagg‘s latest lurks like devastation waiting to be found.
Posted in Whathaveyou on December 23rd, 2013 by JJ Koczan
Apparently at some point between when Days of the Doomed III was held there this year and now, Cudahy, Wisconsin’s The Blue Pig venue was renamed The Metal Grill. It was pretty metal before, at least the two times I’ve been there for prior installments of this fest, but I guess if nothing else, a metal grill fits with the metal radio and a metal deli. All very metal. I’d like to try a turkey sandwich from the metal deli. Somehow I think it would have to include hot peppers.
More pivotal than my lunch order is the fact that Days of the Doomed IV will return the festival to that building, which by any other name is still a cool place to see a show, and that the beginnings of a lineup are coagulating. Looks like nifty stuff, what with Eric Wagner‘s Blackfinger taking part, and the likes of Orodruin and Las Cruces and Sanctus Bellum making return appearances while Delaware’s Wasted Theory head out to bring some East Coast heavy rock to the mix and The Mighty Nimbus make a long-overdue reunion a reality. I saw those dudes with Entombedone time. They were heavy as all anything and should have no trouble standing up to the various metallurgical standards of the weekend.
Days of the Doomed IV is set for June 20-21, 2014, at The Metal Grill in Cudahy, WI. More to come. This for now:
Back for its fourth installment June 20th & 21st, 2014! Days Of The Doomed Fest IV promises to bring the heavy! Bands will be announced over the next several months, so stay tuned! Tickets on sale starting 1/1/14 atwww.daysofthedoomed.com!
Just to bring you up to speed! Confirmed: The Mighty Nimbus, Blackfinger, Stasis, Wasted Theory, Las Cruces, Brimstone Coven, Sanctus Bellum, Witchden, and Orodruin have all been confirmed for Days Of The Doomed Fest IV! No more announcements until after X-mas, but there are more great bands to reveal! All killer, no filler!
Posted in Bootleg Theater on December 20th, 2013 by JJ Koczan
Fu Manchu, We Must Obey (2007)
I’ll gladly grant that there are way more obvious Fu Manchu records with which to end the week. Indeed, even the Californian fuzz legends themselves seem to have acknowledged by touring playing full records an audience preference for older material, if not actually the oldest, albums like 1996’s In SearchOf…,their third, and 1997’s subsequent The Action is Gohailed as heavy rock classics while much of the rest of their catalog, particularly the three LPs they’ve released in the last decade, are viewed with interest varied from superfan loyalty to utter discount from those whose allegiance lies with their ’90s output.
Fair enough. I can’t and won’t argue that In Search Of…isn’t genre genius, but neither do I think Fu Manchu‘s contributions ended with what’s commonly considered their most highly-regarded material. Whether it’s the early rawness of their 1994 debut, No One Rides for Free, or the striving to breathe new life into their established wall of fuzz in 2009’s Signs of Infinite Power by means of focusing on the SoCal punk and hardcore influence that served as the band’s drive when they got their start as Virulence in 1985, it’s strange to think of a band as being both classic and underrated — unless you think of all heavy rock as underrated in the wider pop-cultural sphere — but Fu Manchu seem to be exactly that. It’s a fascinating position for a group who are past 25 years together, who’ve toured the world and who’ve influenced a generation of bands in their wake.
So yeah, I could’ve closed out the week with The Action is Go, and I’m sure at some point I will, but with “Shake it Loose,” the opening title-track, “Hung out to Dry,” the slow-grooving “Land of Giants,” “Sensei vs. Sensei” and a cover of The Cars‘ “Moving in Stereo” to its credit, I decided to roll with We Must Obey as an example ofFu Manchu‘s work that never quite got the attention it deserved. If that makes me a sucker for the band, I can think of far worse things to be. As always, I hope you enjoy.
—
I know I had that Queens of the Stone Age live review on Monday, but I only reviewed one record this week, and it was an EP. In fact, over the last few months, I’ve been doing fewer and fewer reviews from week to week, and I find it unacceptable. I don’t believe in “resolutions,” but I may start imposing a word count on reviews — 500-700 words tops, let’s say — until I can restore some balance. It would be an interesting challenge for me anyway I think to have to say what I want to say about a record without hitting 1,000 words, which is where most of them hover nowadays when I do get to bang one out. If I do or don’t decide to do that, I need to figure out a way to deal with the anxiety I’ve come to feel about writing up records and still manage to keep my critical voice, which apparently has a thing for compound sentences.
Or maybe I should cut myself some fucking slack and just try to live out my meager fucking existence in the best way I can.
Yeah, not likely.
This coming week is the inexplicable federal holiday Xmas. If you’re of a persuasion to celebrate that or its more Jesus-ified equivalent, Christmas, I wish you a happy one. I’m traveling — of course, because that’s what I do now; unfortunately it’s not to Europe — south to see family and coworkers in Jersey, but I’ll be posting where and when I can. I’d like to get a list together of the best EPs, demos, singles, etc. I heard this year, and I’ll do my best to make it somewhat less… elaborate… than the Top 20 albums list that went up on Monday. Thanks as well to everyone who commented and shared that link.
Double thanks to everyone who’s submitted a list to the Readers Poll. I’ve really enjoyed seeing all the picks come in, the things people agree on, disagree on. I look forward to getting the final results together and sharing them when the time comes. If you haven’t added a list yet, the form will be up next week and then comes down the week after, so there’s time, but not too much.
Next week I review Clagg‘s new album and if I have a chance, do some more stuff to wrap up the year as well, best debut, favorite song live, etc., but it might have to wait until the week after. We’ll see how it goes with road time and all that.
Until then, I wish you a great and safe weekend and a great and safe holiday if you’re celebrating. If you’re not celebrating and you at least have the day off, I hope that’s at least relaxing. Cheers.
Posted in On Wax on December 20th, 2013 by JJ Koczan
How do you effectively summarize a prolific 20-year career on one two-sided LP? The correct answer is you don’t, and Palm Springs, California, desert rockers Dali’s Llama obviously get that idea. The band’s new collection, Twenty Years Underground — released as ever by their own Dali’s Llama Records in limited numbers — doesn’t quite aim to cull everything since their beginnings, and instead provides a sampling of their wares since 2007’s Sweet Sludge. Hardly sounds like the same kind of scope until you realize that Dali’s Llama have issued five albums in that time, and that in just eight songs, Twenty Years Underground does manage to cover Sweet Sludge and the Zach and Erica Huskey-led outfit’s subsequent outings, 2008’s Full on Dunes(review here), 2009’s Raw is Real(review here), 2010’s Howl Do You Do?(review here) and late-2012’s Autumn Woods(review here), the latter two of which purposefully looked beyond desert rock and into other areas of exploration, be it horror punk on the former or darker, more brooding sounds on the latter.
Early Dali’s Llama material from their first five albums remains somewhat obscure, and as Zach explains in the liner notes, to include any of that stuff would’ve involved remastering from the original analog tapes — doubtless an expense on time and money that a band looking to celebrate didn’t need to take on — but since it’s all self-released, it’s all also still in print, and whether it’s 1993’s Pre Post Nowor 2006’s Chordata, which marked a return from a long hiatus, CDs are accessible through their own Dali’s Llama Records. As Dali’s Llama have proven over the years to be unflinching when it comes to doing things on their own terms, that that would continue with Twenty Years Undergroundis no big surprise, and while it would be interesting to have them go back and revisit some of the earlier stuff, maybe for Twenty Years Underground Vol. 2, it seems more fitting to approach this LP collection — their first vinyl — in a “what you see is what you get” mindset. That’s been my experience with the band since I first heard them, and it’s a standard to which their songwriting lives up.
Side A is particularly interesting here for the fact that it’s Dali’s Llama at their most desert rock. I’ve said on multiple occasions and I’ll reiterate that the simple fact of Dali’s Llama‘s relative obscurity in the heavy rock underground and their persistence in a DIY ethic only makes them more admirable — they do what they do regardless of who’s listening, in other words — and with cuts from Sweet Sludgeand Full on Dunes, they are clearly in their element. “Desert Dogs” boasts a guest appearance from an immediately-recognizable Mario Lalli of Fatso Jetson, and Throw Rag singer Sean Wheeler contributes to the ultra-memorable “King Platypus” to close out the first half, so the band’s place in the lineage of the desert from which they come is established one way or another. For what it’s worth, the seven-plus-minute opener “Creosote” from Sweet Sludgegives an unrepentantly riffy opening to Twenty Years Undergroundchock full of their signature grit and even-more-signature lack of pretense, so that lineage wasn’t lacking for establishment in the first place. But it’s always better to be sure.
There’s no new material on Twenty Years Underground, which as prolific as the band has been since 2007 is something of a surprise, but again, space is a factor. The title-track to Autumn Woods tops nine minutes with its low rumble and moody sensibility, so their most recent work is well represented and “Creosote” is answered in kind, “Autumn Woods” closing out side B in fine company with the faster “Bad Dreams” from the same album and the motor-riffing of “Raw is Real.” “She’s My Halloween” is something of a departure on Twenty Years Undergroundas Howl Do You Do?was for the band in general, ultimately a playful collection nodding at goth rock in the name of a good time, but the Huskeys chose the right song to represent that offering, with its organ scratch and memorable guitar progression bordering on classic psychedelic rock, and if you’re encountering Twenty Years Underground in the first place, chances are it’s not going to be your first exposure to Dali’s Llama — or if it is, that you’ll be open so such things in the context of a compilation, which sets a different expectation for flow and songs feeding into each other than a regular LP might.
Players joining Zach (guitar/vocals) and Erica (bass/backing vocals) vary, and over the course of Twenty Years Underground, Dali’s Llama trades out drummers twice and adds and then replaces a second guitarist, but the vibe is consistent across the board. If you know Dali’s Llama, then you know you’re getting straight-ahead songwriting with few frills, but between the guest spots, lineup variations and “She’s My Halloween,” you could hardly say the collection suffers from redundancy. The story of Dali’s Llama to this point has been one of a group — really a couple, but a couple bringing others with them for the ride — sticking to their passion in the face of whatever might befall them, and truly pursuing music for the sheer sake of loving it. In addition to liner notes from Zach and info about who plays on what, the sleeve that houses the 12″ platter features a collage that — if it doesn’t go back the full 20 years — certainly goes back a healthy portion of it, and the thread of the band’s drive is made even more plain. Regardless of trend, regardless of who’s come up and made it big, regardless of who’s sold what to what tv show, Dali’s Llama simply are and will continue to be. Zach says it himself, “It’s not over yet man!” Right on.
Dali’s Llama continue to inspire. If you want a lesson in what underground rock is all about, look no further.
Dali’s Llama, “Samurai Eyes” Live at Cobraside Distribution, Dec. 14, 2013
