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Album Review: Bongzilla, Weedsconsin

bongzilla weedsconsin

None crustier. None more stoned. That’s the reputation that precedes Bongzilla headed into Weedsconsin, their first album in 16 years. That’s the standard. And while the Madison, Wisconsin, trio of Michael “Muleboy” Makela (bass/vocals, formerly guitar/vocals), guitarist Jeff “Spanky” Schultz and drummer Michael John “Magma” Henry have no doubt been busy in the intervening years working as high-power lobbyists toward the ultimate goal of marijuana legalization on the federal level in the US — an argument they state efficiently if not clearly in Muleboy‘s rasp on “Free the Weed” — their return to more riff-led weedian proselytizing is notable on its own merits in addition to the influence the band has had largely in their absence on a generation of underground listeners and players who’ve come to prominence in the years since 2005’s Amerijuanican was issued through Relapse Records.

Weedsconsin finds the band aligned with Heavy Psych Sounds, and with production by the late John Hopkins, who passed away in Nov. 2020 following a heart attack, Bongzilla sound utterly unmistakable. Their closest sonic kin have always been Weedeater — they would seem to pay homage with a short interlude that opens side B called simply “The Weedeater” — but the six-song/43-minute run of this collection makes that North Carolinian outfit seem accessible by comparison. Of course, the album arrives some six years after Bongzilla returned to touring, so they’ve had plenty of time work work out material, but the truth is that in 95 percent of cases, the prospect of a new full-length from this band was going to be a no-doubter. What, Bongzilla were going to become math metal? Embrace their inner djent? They’re fucking Bongzilla. The biggest favor they might do their attendant listenership, new and old, is to sound like it, and that’s exactly what they do on Weedsconsin.

The album opens sharp and purposeful with “Sundae Driver.” It’s the shortest inclusion at about four and a half minutes, and it builds a massive wall of lumbering fuzz to set a high tonal standard for the rest of what follows. If the message is to reassure their audience that Bongzilla know what’s expected of them and are ready to deliver, the harsh-lung gutturalism of “Sundae Driver”‘s verse dispenses immediately with all doubt. Atop a chugging riff that opens into a rolling hook, Muleboy earns copious nodules in nothing-too-fancy lines that are made impressive through the excruciating-sounding execution. The great balance of Bongzilla has always been between the stoned and the brutal. “Sundae Driver” calls out both in deceptively clear fashion, and “Free the Weed” follows with a bigger central riff that holds its line out and lets Magma‘s hi-hat hold the procession together until the next round of lurch kicks in. It is pummeling and arguably the highlight of Weedsconsin for how its second half flows into its solo section with the bass and guitar taking their respective whims for a walk, but really, pick your poison. If it’s jams you’re looking for, the best is surely yet to come.

bongzilla

To wit, side A wraps with “Space Rock,” the first of two inclusions on Weedsconsin to top 10 minutes long. Time well spent. A first few minutes lull the listener into hypnotic nod before the full low end weight kicks in circa 2:30 and continues to cycle through until the big slowdown into the stoner softshoe riff about a minute later, all classic swagger as the bed for the verse, echoing and largely indecipherable. They pick up speed, subtly, but ultimately make their way back to the mellower movement and use that as the launch point for a jam that consumes the rest of the song leads the way out of side A, with the 35-second “The Weedeater” following its rumbling end with a slow drum beat, sample and maybe a keyboard of some sort or guitar playing some sparse notes. There’s a hard stop before the subsequent, 15-minute “Earth Bong/Smoked/Mags Bags” arrives, but the two pieces connect just the same, and the three stages of Weedsconsin‘s sprawling exercise in instrumentalist fuckall likewise flow into each other as they inevitably would.

There are tempo shifts throughout — and maybe the coughing 10 minutes in signals a turn to “Mags Bags,” which puts the bass more forward before oozing out its central riff, more stoner than sludge if it even matters by then — but Bongzilla were right to put all this stuff into a single track and just roll it out, because by the time the drums and whatever percussion is included finishes out, they’ve well established they can do whatever the hell they want anyway and still come out on the other end red-eyed but otherwise unscathed. Slow stick-clicks later and the six-minute “Gummies” wraps with more mostly-instrumental plodding — there’s voice there, but it’s buried deep — as the band cap their first album in more than a decade and a half by getting willfully lost in the fog of their own making and inviting their listenership to do largely the same. That’s not to say they’re not following a plan throughout Weedsconsin, but the plan sounds like it was to get high and wander off, letting one heavy riff after the next lead where they will.

If you can think of a more fitting showing for Bongzilla to make than to return with a six-track album and jam out for more than half its runtime, I’d love to hear about it. The fact of the matter is Bongzilla after a quarter-century since their inception know what they’re about, and Weedsconsin is Bongzilla being Bongzilla. I don’t know what various hyperbole has been tossed the album’s way, but its central achievement is that it is Bongzilla. If you know the band, you know what they do, and this is what they do. If you’re new to the band, then consider Weedsconsin your representative start as you head deeper into their catalog. It’s not that they’re not trying anything new here, but the overarching context is so much the band’s own that it is simply inescapable. And that’s the point. You would ask no less of Bongzilla. That’s their standard, and they meet it dead-on, without flinching.

Bongzilla, Weedsconsin (2021)

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