This week, Sonic Flower release what’s ostensibly their third album, Me and My Bell Bottom Blues through Heavy Psych Sounds, and perhaps with it make for themselves a new beginning. Formed more than 20 years ago by Tatsu Mikami of Church of Misery, who even by then had established himself as one of the world’s foremost conjurors of Riff — I mean that — the band first signed to Leaf Hound Records to release their entirely instrumental 2003 self-titled debut (reissue review here) before calling it quits during the making of what Heavy Psych Sounds unearthed last year to offer as a short second LP, Rides Again (review here), in 2005. If you’re reading this, you probably know a decent portion of the rest of the story. Church of Misery continued to take off internationally, became a firm priority for Tatsu even amid an ever-changing lineup, and apart from a prior reissue on Emetic Records in the US, Sonic Flower remained largely a footnote to be appreciated by those who were fortunate enough to have chased them down in the first place.
Me and My Bell BottomBlues hits this obscurity like a train on a grand and funky railroad, with seven fully realized verse-and-chorus songs — not pieces that might’ve been expanded, not instrumentals; nothing against either of those things, mind you — that brim with energy as Tatsu is joined by drummer Toshiaki Umemura, guitarist Fumiya Hattori and vocalist Kazuhiro Asaeda in an ace incarnation of Sonic Flower, built around the purpose of conveying the spirit of classic heavy rock while demonstrating their own righteousness in the form. With production by Eternal Elysium‘s Yukito Okazaki, the indication would seem to be that Sonic Flower are more of a band than they’ve ever been. I don’t know what Church of Misery have been up to since announcing they’d record a new album in August — also with Toshiaki on drums — but Sonic Flower do not sound like a side-project on these songs, and whether it’s the layered-in acoustics of “Black Sheep” or the swinging jam in “Poor Girl” or the riotous stomp of “Swineherd” that sets the high bar for what follows as the leadoff cut, there’s vitality, electricity, palpable. When they finish with the eponymous “Sonic Flower,” it feels declarative.
Wherever Fumiya came from, the young gentleman can shred and then some. It’s strum and slide acoustic in the beginning of “Quicksand Planet,” on “Sonic Flower” it’s a running heavy blues entrusted over Tatsu‘s bassline, and on “Love Like Rubber” he brings the start-stop groove forward as punctuated by Toshiaki‘s snare while Kazuhiro sneers out the verse lines in a style that is soulful and over-the-top in kind — just the right blend for a band who are spitting hot, distorted fire across the album’s entire span. And in that span, to hear them move as a unit from the balls-out swaggering proto-doom of centerpiece “Captain Frost” through “Quicksand Planet” and into the funky outset of “Poor Girl” (8:15) with the sprawling, not-coming-back jam taking hold before the track’s even hit its fourth minute, and then to answer that with the nine-minute “Sonic Flower,” inevitably expansive, but also rich in its vocal layering circa 3:10, and tease doing the same thing with a break before returning — led by Fumiya‘s guitar — to a triumphant structural bookend from whence they once more take flight and jam into the last fadeout only highlights the mastery at work in Tatsu‘s songwriting.
It’s hard not to think of the bassist as an auteur generally, but perhaps easier here since Fumiya, Toshiaki and Kazuhiro bring so much to the finished product and Me and My Bell Bottom Blues is so complete sounding in its still-manageable 46 minutes. But it is Tatsu at the heart of the band, and there’s a long history behind him of trading out members between releases, tours, etc., in this project as well as Church of Misery, so I won’t claim to know one way or the other what will follow for Sonic Flower. As it stands, though, Me and My Bell Bottom Blues is easy to be excited about because the music itself is excited as much as exciting, and with that, one struggles not to ponder the possibilities for this incarnation of the group. I’m not saying Sonic Flower could never release another good album if anyone left or was let go, only that Sonic Flower as they are in 2022 have put together something pretty special in these songs. Whatever else the future might bring — if it’s some more of the kind of hard boogie in “Love Like Rubber,” that’d be just fine, thanks — the declarations made within the tracks of Me and My Bell Bottom Blues and the overarching move-your-body feel of the entirety are not to be missed.
So don’t miss them. Full album is streaming below, followed by more from the PR wire.
Enjoy:
Sonic Flower, Me and My Bell Bottom Blues album premiere
SONIC FLOWER was formed as a side project of Church of Misery in 2001. Tatsu Mikami (Church Of Misery bassist) and Takenori Hoshi (guitarist on Church of Misery’s second album “The Second Coming”) teamed up to play more bluesy and instrumental heavy rock influenced by 70’s acts such as Cactus, Grand Funk Railroads, Groundhogs or Savoy Brown. Guitarist Arisa and drummer Keisuke Fukawa quickly joined them. In 2003, they released their bluesy heavy rock self-titled debut album ‘Sonic Flower’ on Japanese label Leafhound Records. This instrumental, improvised double guitar-charged record was internationally acclaimed, and they got the chance to support Electric Wizard, Bluebird or Acid King on their Japan shows.
In 2005, SONIC FLOWER went to the studio to record new material, but as Arisa was pregnant and day jobs prevailed, they put the band on hiatus after the recording session. These recordings have been sleeping in the vault for fifteen years until Tatsu decided to reform the band in 2018. This time he teamed up with former Church Of Misery singer: the result was their new album ‘Rides Again’, 2021 through Heavy Psych Records. Their brand new album ‘Me and My Bellbottom Blues’ sees guitarist Fumiya Hattori joining on guitar, for a late September release on the Italian label. Recorded in Tokyo in early 2022 and mixed by Japanese doom guru Yukito Okazaki of Eternal Elysium fame, “Me And My Bellbottom Blues” is “their biggest work to date”, according to Mikami.
SONIC FLOWER is: Tatsu Mikami – Bass Kazuhiro Asaeda – Vocals Fumiya Hattori — Guitar Toshiaki Umemura – Drums
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 29th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
I just put this on for the first time. Right now. And I’m about 30 seconds into the opening track, which is called “Aether” and is also the longest (immediate points) of the seven inclusions at 10 minutes and two seconds, and I already feel compelled to note the occasion. If you’d ask why, just look at the lineup here. Edena Gardens is bassist Martin Rude (who plays bass and guitar here) and drummer-and-then-some Jakob Skøtt of Causa Sui and Nicklas Sørensen collaborating for the first time on a release together, and from the languid but voluminous heavy psychedelia that manifests in “Aether” and through the synth-inclusive reaches of first streaming single “Hidebound,” there’s breadth and breath alike in this material (so far), pulling in part from Causa Sui and El Paraiso Records‘ psych-jazz fusion and topping those rhythms with the dream tone of Sørensen, who every bit earns the forward position of his guitar here.
Oh I’m stoked on this one. The release date is Oct. 28. There’s so much to live for.
Three musicians with their own compass: Martin Rude & Jakob Skøtt have shared a wide range of musical quests: from Causa Sui’s “Bitches Brew of Stoner Rock” crossing the folk meditations of Sun River and arriving most recently as members of the pre-fusion electric dealings of the London Odense Ensemble.
Papir guitarist Nicklas Sørensen is not merely adding a new layer to an established duo, but his presence to the party have brought it into more meditative dwellings. These pieces move slowly, evolving like the slow growth underneath the ground. Whereas Causa Sui & Papir have always excelled at blistering panoramic and often sundrenched sounds, Edena Gardens take a dive inwards and downwards rather than outwards. But there’s also an electrically charged ecstatic rawness to the dealings. Like Æther, the 10 minute opener’s 2 guitars-and-a-drum kit improv, finding it’s way from tumbling drones into monolithic slow riffage. Elsewhere, we find trails of electronic vapors, misfiring bursts of noise and slow drones stretched out.
Edena Gardens is a thing to be experienced first hand – it’s not for everyone, but those who decide to stay are greatly rewarded. It’s a debut unlike any other record on El Paraiso, perhaps unlike any you’ve ever heard.
Welcome to Edena Gardens
Preorder soon: Album out on LP and CD, run of 500 copies each. Release date October 28th! On El Paraiso Records.
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 28th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Let’s be honest with each other. Some bands have missed a step since coming back from the pandemic. I’m not saying they’ve lost it entirely or that that particular, indefinable ‘it’ can never be regained, but there’s rockers out there across various subgenres who just aren’t quite what they were in the Before Times.
I’m really glad -(16)- aren’t one of them. Their new video for the track “Misfortune Teller” bears a signature groove and aggressive push, and as one of 12 inclusions on their forthcoming album, Into Dust, it bodes well. And hey, -(16)- have been around for 30 years, so even if they had faltered a bit after 2020’s Dream Squasher (review here), you’d understand, but I’ll tell you, that’s not what I’m hearing here. Nov. 18, then? Alright. Nov. 18. Preorders are up if that’s your thing. I haven’t yet mastered the art, but sometimes Relapse sells t-shirt bundles, so, you know…
From the PR wire:
-(16)- : California Sludge Veterans To Release New Album, Into Dust, November 18th Via Relapse Records; New Song “Misfortune Teller” Now Playing + Fall US Headlining Dates Announced
California sludge veterans -(16)- return with their heaviest and most devastating record to date, Into Dust! The new album, a collection of cautionary tales of survival and redemption, is set to an amalgamation of sludge, punk, metal, hardcore, and stoner riffs that could only be built through thirty years of commitment to their dark sonic craft, which -(16)- continues to improve upon.
Guitarist/vocalist Bobby Ferry comments, “For the past two years, we have been careening down the highway of life, stuck in the idle lane, heading towards oblivion. However, this detour endowed us with ample inspiration to continue screaming headlong into the abyss, grinding out Into Dust in the process.”
Into Dust is out November 18th on CD, LP, and digital formats.
Into Dust Track Listing: 1. Misfortune Teller 2. Dead Eyes 3. Ash In The Hourglass 4. The Deep 5. Scrape The Rocks 6. Null And Eternal Void 7. The Floor Wins 8. Lane Splitter 9. Never Paid Back 10. Dirt In Your Mouth 11. Dressed Up To Get Messed Up 12. Born On A Barstool
In conjunction with the release of Into Dust, -(16)- has announced a US headlining tour this November. Main support will be provided by Doc Hammer. See all confirmed dates below.
-(16)- w/ Doc Hammer: 11/12/2022 Tower Bar – San Diego, CA 11/13/2022 Knucklehead Hollywood – Los Angeles, CA 11/14/2022 Transplants Brewing – Palmdale, CA 11/15/2022 TBA – Fresno, CA 11/16/2022 Ivy Room – Oakland, CA 11/17/2022 Café Colonial – Sacramento, CA 11/18/2022 The High Water Mark – Portland, OR 11/19/2022 The Bar House – Seattle, WA 11/20/2022 Mootsy’s – Spokane, WA 11/22/2022 Shredder – Boise, ID 11/23/2022 Aces High Saloon – Salt Lake City, UT 11/25/2022 Recycled Propaganda – Las Vegas, NV 11/26/2022 The Den – Prescott, NV
From the frantic opening of “Misfortune Teller” to the undeniable pounding and swagger of “Scrape The Rocks,” Into Dust lives up to its name, as -(16)- beats the listener into submission through the lowest of ends and the sour, palpable malaise prevalent throughout the album’s dozen tracks.
“There’s a story arc in the lyrics that start with an eviction notice served amid the ruins of Hurricane Irma in the Florida Keys, to running aground metaphorically and drowning in midlife, bearing witness to the modern suffering of hunger and poverty on the Mexico California border,” Ferry says. The negativity persists on tracks aptly titled “Null And Eternal Void,” and the dizzying, pill-induced, “The Floor Wins.” Elsewhere, “Born On A Bar Stool” sends the listener off with a sobering album closer; ending on a foggy and rainy jazz-tinged San Francisco night, with an anti-drinking drinking song, proclaiming, “Raise your glass all things pass.”
-(16)-: Bobby Ferry – guitar, vocals Alex Shuster – lead guitar Barney Firks – bass Dion Thurman – drums
Posted in Reviews on September 28th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
I’m in it. The only reason I even know what day it is is because I keep notes and I set up the back end of these posts ahead of time. They tell me what number I’m on. As for the rest, it’s blinders and music, all all all. Go. Go. Go. I honestly don’t even know why I still write these intro paragraphs. I just do. You know the deal, right? 10 records yesterday, 10 today, 10 more tomorrow. At some point it ends. At some point it begins again. Presumably before then I’ll figure out what day it is.
Quarterly Review #71-80:
James Romig & Mike Scheidt, The Complexity of Distance
James Romig is a Pulitzer-finalist composer, and Mike Scheidt is the founding guitarist/vocalist of YOB. I refuse to cut-and-paste-pretend at understanding all the theory put into the purported ’13:14:15′ ratio of beat cycles throughout The Complexity of Distance — or, say, just about any of it — but the resulting piece is about 57 minutes of Scheidt‘s guitar work, as recorded by Billy Barnett (YOB‘s regular producer). It is presented as a single track, and with the (obviously intentional) chord progressions in Romig‘s piece, “The Complexity of Distance” is a huge drone. If you ever wanted to hear Scheidt do earlier-style Earth guitar work — yes, duh — then this might satisfy that curiosity. There’s high-culture intersecting with low here in a way that takes Scheidt out of it creatively — that is to say, Romig did the composing — but I won’t take away from the work in concept or performance, or even the result. Hell, I’ll listen to Mike Scheidt riff around for 57 minutes. It’ll be the best 57 minutes of my god damned day. Perhaps that’s not universal, but I don’t think Romig‘s looking for radio hits. Whether you approach it on that theory level or as a sonic meditation, the depths welcome you. I’d take another Scheidt solo record someday too, though. Just saying.
Copenhagen’s Mythic Sunship turned Light/Flux around so quick after 2021’s Wildfire (review here) they didn’t even have time to take a new promo photo. There is no question the Danish five-piece have been on a tear for a few years now, and their ascent into the psych-jazz fusion ether continues with Light/Flux, marrying its gotta-happen-right-this-second urgency to a patience in the actual unfolding of songs like the sax’ed out “Aurora” and the more guitar-led “Blood Moon” at the outset — light — with the cosmic triumphalist horn and crashes of “Decomposition” leading off side B and moving into the hey-where’d-you-come-from boogie of “Tempest,” presumably flux. Each half of the record ends with a standout, as “Equinox” follows “Blood Moon” with a more space rock-feeling takeoff pulse, right up to the synth sweep that starts at about 2:50, and “First Frost” gives high and low float gracefully over steady toms like different dreams happening at the same time and then merging in purpose as the not-overblown crescendo locks in. May their momentum carry them ever forward if they’re going to produce at this level.
What a fascinating direction the progression of Sweden’s Deville has taken these 15 years after Come Heavy Sleep. Heavy Lies the Crown finds the Swedish journeymen aligned to Sixteentimes Music for the follow-up to 2018’s Pigs With Gods (review here), and is through its eight tracks in a dense-toned, impact-minded 33 minutes with nary a second to spare in cuts like “Killing Time” and “Unlike You” and “A Devil Around Your Neck.” Their push and aggressive edge reminds of turn-of-the-century Swedish heavy rockers like Mustasch or Mother Misery, and even in “Hands Tied” and “Serpent Days” — the two longest cuts on Heavy Lies the Crown, appearing in succession on side A — they maintain an energy level fostered by propulsive drums and a rampant drive toward immediacy rather than flourish, but neither does the material feel rushed or unconsidered right up to the final surprising bit of spaciousness in “Pray for More,” which loosens up the throttle a bit while still holding onto an underlying chug, some last progressive angularity perhaps to hint at another stage to come. One way or the other, in craft and delivery, Deville remain reliable without necessarily being predictable, which is a rare balance to strike, particularly for a band who’ve never made the same record twice.
Guitarist/vocalist Bill Jenkins and bassist Matthew Kahn hail from Kingsnake (begat by Sugar Daddie in days of yore), drummer Michael Scarpone played in Wizard Eye, and guitarist Christopher Wojcik made a splash a few years back in King Bison, so yes, dudes have been around. Accordingly, Superdeluxe know off the bat where their grooves are headed on this five-song self-titled EP, with centerpiece “Earth” nodding toward a somewhat inevitable Clutch influence — thinking “Red Horse Rainbow” specifically — and seeming to acknowledge lyrically this as the project’s beginning point in “Popular Mechanix,” driving somewhat in the vein of Freedom Hawk but comfortably paced as “Destructo Facto” and “Severed Hand” are at the outset of the 19-minute run. “Ride” finishes out with a lead line coursing over its central figure before a stop brings the chorus, swing and swagger and a classic take on that riff — Sabbath‘s “Hole in the Sky,” Goatsnake‘s “Trower”; everybody deserves a crack at it at least once — familiar and weighted, but raw enough in the production to still essentially be a demo. Nonetheless, veteran players, new venture, fun to be had and hopefully more to come.
Based in Berlin and featuring bassist Cozza, formerly of Melbourne, Australia’s Riff Fist, alongside guitarist Moseph and drummer 666tin, Esel are an instrumentalist three-piece making their full-length debut with the live-recorded and self-produced Asinus. An eight-tracker spanning 38 minutes, it’s rough around the edges in terms of sound, but that only seems to suit the fuzz in both the guitar and bass, adding a current of noise alongside the low end being pushed through both as well as the thud of 666tin‘s toms and kick. They play fast, they play slow, they roll the wheel rather than reinvent it, but there’s charm here amid the doomier “Donkey Business” — they’ve got a lot of ‘ass’ stuff going on, including the opener “Ass” and the fact that their moniker translates from German as “donkey” — and the sprawling into maddening crashes “A Biss” later on, which precedes the minute-long finale “The Esel Way Out.” Want to guess what it is? Did you guess noise and feedback? If you did, your prize is to go back to the start and hear the crow-call letters of the band’s name and the initial slow nod of “Ass” all over again. I’m going to do my best not to make a pun about getting into it, but, well, I’ve already failed.
With riffs to spare and spacious vibes besides, London instrumentalists Blue Tree Monitor offer Cryptids, working in a vein that feels specifically born out of their hometown’s current sphere of heavy. Across the sprawl of “Siberian Sand” at the beginning of the five-song/38-minute debut album, one can hear shades of some of the Desertscene-style riffing for which Steak has been an ambassador, and certainly there’s no shortage of psych and noise around to draw from either, as the cacophonous finish manifests. But big is the idea as much as broad, and sample-topped centerpiece “Sasquatch” (also the longest cut at 8:41) is a fine example of how to do both, complete with fuzzy largesse and a succession of duly plodding-through-the-woods riffs. “Antlion” feels laid back in the guitar but contrasts with the drums, and the closer “Seven” is more straight-ahead heavy rock riffing until its second half gets a little more into noise rock before its final hits, so maybe the book isn’t entirely closed on where they’ll go sound-wise, but so much the better for listening to something with multifaceted potential in the present. To put it another way, they sound like a new band feeling their way forward through their songs, and that’s precisely what one would hope for as they move forward from here.
Vigilant in conveying the Brooklynite unit’s progressive intentions, from the synthy-sounding freakout at the end of “Wavelength Synchronizer” to the angular beginning of “Conglobulations,” Incubation is the first two-songer offering from Astrometer, who boast in their ranks members of Hull, Meek is Murder and Bangladeafy. The marriage of sometimes manically tense riffing and a more open keyboard line overhead works well on the latter track, but one would at no point accuse Astrometer of not getting their point across, and with ready-for-a-7″ efficiency, since the whole thing takes just about seven and a half minutes out of your busy day. I’m fairly sure they’ve had some lineup jumbling since this was recorded — there may be up to three former members of Hull there now, and that’s a hoot also audible in the guitars — but notice is served in any case, and the way the ascending frenetic chug of the guitar gives way to the keyboard solo in “Wavelength Synchronizer” is almost enough on its own to let you know that there’s a plan at work. See also the melodic, almost post-rock-ish floating notes above the fray at the start of “Conglobulations.” I bought the download. I’d buy a tape. You guys got tapes? Shirts?
Somewhere between a solo-project and an actual band is Oldest Sea. Led by songwriter, vocalist, multi-instrumentalist and recording engineer Sam Marandola — joined throughout the four tracks of debut EP Strange and Eternal by lead guitarist/drummer Andrew Marandola and on 10-minute closer “The Whales” by bassist Jay Mazzillo — the endeavor is atmospherically weighted and given a death-doom-ish severity through the echoing snare on “Consecration,” only after opener “Final Girl” swells in distortion and melody alike until receding for string-style ambience, which might be keyboard, might be guitar, might be cello, I don’t know. Marandola also performs as a solo folk artist and one can hear that in her approach to the penultimate “I’ll Take What’s Mine,” but in the focus on atmosphere here, as well as the patience of craft across differing methodologies in what’s still essentially an initial release — if nothing before it proves the argument, certainly “The Whales” does — one hears shades of the power SubRosa once wielded in bringing together mournful melody and doomed tradition to suit purposes drawing from American folk and post-metallic weight. At 25 minutes, I’m tempted to call it an album for its sheer substance. Instead I’ll hang back and just wait and get my hopes up for when that moment actually comes.
Based in Austria with roots in Canada, Spain and Sweden, Weddings are vocalist/guitarist Jay Brown, vocalist/drummer Elena Rodriguez and bassist Phil Nordling, and whether it’s the grunge turnaround on second cut “Hunter” or the later threatening-to-be-goth-rock of “Running Away” — paired well with “Talk is Cheap” — the trio are defined in no small part by the duet-style singing of Brown and Rodriguez. The truly fortunate part of listening to their sophomore LP, Book of Spells, is that they can also write a song. Opener “Hexenhaus” signals a willful depth of atmosphere that comes through on “Sleep” and the acoustic-led gorgeousness of “Tundra,” and so on, but they’re not shy about a hook either, as in “Greek Fire,” “Hunter,” “Running Away” and closer “Into the Night” demonstrate. Mood and texture are huge throughout Book of Spells, but the effect of the whole is duly entrancing, and the prevailing sense from their individual parts is that either Brown or Rodriguez could probably front the band on their own, but Weddings are a more powerful and entrancing listen for the work they do together throughout. Take a deep breath before you jump in here.
A classic rock spirit persists across the nine songs of The Heavy Crawls‘ sophomore full-length, Searching for the Sun, as the Kyiv-based trio of guitarist/vocalist/keyboardist Max Tovstyi, bassist/backing vocalist Serj Manernyi and drummer/backing vocalist Tobi Samuel offer nods to the likes of the Rolling Stones and Jimi Hendrix, among others, with a healthy dose of their own fuzz to coincide. The organ-laced title-track sounds like it was recorded on a stage, if it wasn’t, and no matter where the trio end up — looking at you, Sabbath-riffed “Stoner Song” — the material is tied together through the unflinchingly organic nature of their presentation. They’re not hiding anything here. No tricks. No BS. They’re writing their own songs, to be sure, but whether it’s the funky “I Don’t Know” or the languid psych rollout of “Take Me Higher” (it picks up in the second half) that immediately follows, they put everything they’ve got right up front for the listener to take in, make of it what they will, and rock out accordingly, be it to the mellow “Out of My Head” or the stomping “Evil Side (Of Rock ‘n’ Roll) or the sweet, sweet guitar-solo-plus-organ culmination of “1,000 Problems.” Take your pick, really. You’re in good hands no matter what.
Posted in Reviews on September 27th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Here we go again as we get closer to 100 records covered in this expanded Fall 2022 Quarterly Review. It’s been a pretty interesting ride so far, and as I’ve dug in I know for sure I’ve added a few names (and titles) to my year-end lists for albums, debuts, and so on. Today keeps the thread going with a good spread of styles and some very, very heavy stuff. If you haven’t found anything in the bunch yet — first I’d tell you to go back and check again, because, really? nothing in 60 records? — but after that, hey, maybe today’s your day.
Here’s hoping.
Quarterly Review #61-70:
Spirit Adrift, 20 Centuries Gone
The second short release in two years from trad metal forerunners Spirit Adrift, 20 Centuries Gone pairs two new originals in “Sorcerer’s Fate” and “Mass Formation Psychosis” — songs for our times written as fantasy narrative — with six covers, of Type O Negative‘s “Everything Dies,” Pantera‘s “Hollow,” Metallica‘s “Escape,” Thin Lizzy‘s “Waiting for an Alibi,” ZZ Top‘s “Nasty Dogs and Funky Kings” and Lynyrd Skynyrd‘s “Poison Whiskey.” The covers find them demonstrating a bit of malleability — founding guitarist/vocalist does well with Phil Lynott‘s and Peter Steele‘s inflections while still sounding like himself — and it’s always a novelty to hear a band purposefully showcase their influences like this, but “Sorcerer’s Fate” and “Mass Formation Psychosis” are the real draw. The former nods atop a Candlemassian chug and sweeping chorus before spending much of its second half instrumental, and “Mass Formation Psychosis” resolves in burly riffing, but only after a poised rollout of classic doom, slower, sleeker in its groove, with acoustic strum layered in amid the distortion and keyboard. Two quick reaffirmations of the band’s metallic flourishing and, indeed, a greater movement happening partially in their wake. And then the covers, which are admirably more than filler in terms of arrangement. Something of a holdover, maybe, but by no means lacking substance.
Just because it’s so bludgeoning doesn’t necessarily mean that’s all it is. The melodic stretch of “Forbidden World of Light” and delve into progressive black metal after the nakedly Crowbarian sludge of “A Path Beyond Grief,” the clean vocal-topped atmospheric heft of “What Must Be Done” and the choral feel of centerpiece “Carried,” even the way “Of Shadow and Sanguine” seems to purposefully thrash (also some more black metal there) amid its bouts of deathcore and sludge lumbering — all of these come together to make Northless‘ fourth long-player, A Path Beyond Grief, an experience that’s still perhaps defined by its intensity and concrete tonality, its aggression, but that is not necessarily beholden to those. Even the quiet intro “Nihil Sanctum Vitae” — a seeming complement to the nine-minute bring-it-all-together closer “Nothing That Lives Will Last” — seems intended to tell the listener there’s more happening here than it might at first seem. As someone who still misses Swarm of the Lotus, some of the culmination in that finale is enough to move the blood in my wretched body, but while born in part of hardcore, Northless are deep into their own style throughout these seven songs, and the resultant smashy smashy is able to adjust its own elemental balance while remaining ferociously executed. Except, you know, when it’s not. Because it’s not just one thing.
Comprised of five songs running a tidy 20 minutes, each brought together through ambience as well as the fact that their titles are all three letters long — “Aer,” “Hyd,” “Orb,” “Wiz,” “Rue” — AER is the debut EP from German instrumentalists Lightrain, who would seek entry into the contemplative and evocative sphere of acts like Toundra or We Lost the Sea as they offer headed-out post-rock float and heavy psychedelic vibe. “Hyd” is a focal point, both for its eight-minute runtime (nothing else is half that long) and the general spaciousness, plus a bit of riffy shove in the middle, with which it fills that, but the ultra-mellow “Aer” and drumless wash of “Wiz” feed into an overarching flow that speaks to greater intentions on the part of the band vis a vis a first album. “Rue” is progressive without being overthought, and “Orb” feels born of a jam without necessarily being that jam, finding sure footing on ground that for many would be uncertain. If this is the beginning point of a longer-term evolution on the part of the band, so much the better, but even taken as a standalone, without consideration for the potential of what it might lead to, the LP-style fluidity that takes hold across AER puts the lie to its 20 minutes being somehow minor.
Cleanly produced and leaning toward sleaze at times in a way that feels purposefully drawn from ’80s glam metal, the second offering from Poland’s 1965 — they might as well have called themselves 1542 for as much as they have to do sound-wise with what was going on that year — is the 12-song/52-minute Panther, which wants your nuclear love on “Nuclear Love,” wants to rock on “Let’s Rock,” and would be more than happy to do whatever it wants on “Anything We Want.” Okay, so maybe guitarist, vocalist and principal songwriter Michał Rogalski isn’t going to take home gold at the Subtlety Olympics, but the Warsaw-based outfit — him plus Marco Caponi on bass/backing vocals and Tomasz Rudnicki on drums/backing vocals, as well as an array of lead guitarists guesting — know the rock they want to make, and they make it. Songs are tight and well performed, heavy enough in tone to have a presence but fleet-footed in their turns from verse to chorus and the many trad-metal-derived leads. Given the lyrics of the title-track, I’m not sure positioning oneself as an actual predatory creature as a metaphor for seduction has been fully thought through, but you don’t see me out here writing lyrics in Polish either, so take it with that grain of salt if you feel the need or it helps. For my money I’ll take the still-over-the-top “So Many Times” and the sharp start-stops of “All My Heroes Are Dead,” but there’s certainly no lack of others to choose from.
Blacklab — also stylized BlackLab — are the Osaka, Japan-based duo of guitarist/vocalist Yuko Morino and drummer Chia Shiraishi, but if you’d enter into their second full-length, In a Bizarre Dream, expecting some rawness or lacking heft on account of their sans-bass configuration, you’re more likely to be bowled over by the sludgy tonality on display. “Cold Rain” — opener and longest track (immediate points) at 6:13 — and “Abyss Woods” are largely screamers, righteously harsh with riffs no less biting, and “Dark Clouds” does the job in half the time with a punkier onslaught leading to “Evil 1,” but “Evil 2” mellows out a bit, adjusts the balance toward clean singing and brooding in a way that the oh-hi-there guest vocal contribution from Laetitia Sadier of Stereolab (after whom Blacklab are partially named) on “Crows, Sparrows and Cats” shifts into a grungier modus. “Lost” and “In a Bizarre Dream,” the latter more of an interlude, keep the momentum going on the rock side, but somehow you just know they’re going to turn it around again, and they absolutely do, easing their way in with the largesse of “Monochrome Rainbow” before “Collapse” caps with a full-on onslaught that brings into full emphasis how much reach they have as a two-piece and just how successfully they make it all heavy.
I guess the only problem that might arise from recording your first two-songer with Steve Albini is that you’ve set an awfully high standard for, well, every subsequent offering your band ever makes in terms of production. There are traces of Karma to Burn-style chug on “Ectotherm,” the A-side accompanied by “Writhing Mass” on the two-songer that shares the same name, but Chicago imstrumental trio Sun King Ba are digging into more progressively-minded, less-stripped-down fare on both of these initial tracks. Still, impact and the vitality of the end result are loosely reminiscent, but the life on that guitar, bass and drums speaks volumes, and not just in favor of the recording itself. “Writhing Mass” crashes into tempo changes and resolves itself in being both big and loud, and the space in the cymbals alone as it comes to its noisy finish hints at future incursions to be made. Lest we forget that Chicago birthed Pelican and Bongripper, among others, for the benefit of instrumental heavy worldwide. Sun King Ba have a ways to go before they’re added to that list, but there is intention being signaled here for those with ears to hear it.
Despite the somewhat grim imagery on the cover art for Kenodromia‘s self-titled debut EP — a three-cut outing that marks a return to the band of vocalist Hilde Chruicshank after some stretch of absence during which they were known as Hideout — the Oslo, Norway, four-piece play heavy rock through and through on “Slandered,” “Corrupted” and “Bound,” with the bluesy fuzzer riffs and subtle psych flourishes of Eigil Nicolaisen‘s guitar backing Chruicshank‘s lyrics as bassist Michael Sindhu and drummer Trond Buvik underscore the “break free” moment in “Corrupted,” which feels well within its rights in terms of sociopolitical commentary ahead of the airier start of “Bound” after the relatively straightforward beginning that was “Slandered.” With the songs arranged shortest to longest, “Bound” is also the darkest in terms of atmosphere and features a more open verse, but the nod that defines the second half is huge, welcome and consuming even as it veers into a swaggering kind of guitar solo before coming back to finish. These players have been together one way or another for over 10 years, and knowing that, Kenodromia‘s overarching cohesion makes sense. Hopefully it’s not long before they turn attentions toward a first LP. They’re clearly ready.
Mezzoa are the San Diego three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Ignacio “El Falcone” Maldonado, bassist Q “Dust Devil” Pena (who according to their bio was created in the ‘Cholo Goth Universe,’ so yes, charm is a factor), and drummer Roy “Bam Bam” Belarmino, and the 13-track/45-minute Dunes of Mars is their second album behind 2017’s Astral Travel. They sound like a band who’ve been around for a bit, and indeed they have, playing in other bands and so on, but they’ve got their approach on lockdown and I don’t mean for the plague. The material here, whether it’s the Helmet-plus-melody riffing of “Tattoos and Halos” or the more languid roll of the seven-minute “Dunes of Mars” earlier on, is crisp and mature without sounding flat or staid creatively, and though they’re likened most to desert rock and one can hear that in the penultimate “Seized Up” a bit, there’s more density in the guitar and bass, and the immediacy of “Hyde” speaks of more urgent influences at work. That said, the nodding chill-and-chug of “Moya” is heavy whatever landscape you want to say birthed it, and with the movement into and out of psychedelic vibes, the land is something you’re just as likely to leave behind anyway. Hit me as a surprise. Don’t be shocked if you end up going back to check out the first record after.
Released through emergent Texas-based imprint Gravitoyd Heavy Music, Stone Nomads‘ Fields of Doom comprises six songs, five originals, and is accordingly somewhere between a debut full-length and an EP at half an hour long. The cover is a take on Saint Vitus‘ “Dragon Time,” and it rests well here as the closer behind the prior-released single “Soul Stealer,” as bassist Jude Sisk and guitarist Jon Cosky trade lead vocal duties while Dwayne Crosby furthers the underlying metallic impression on drums, pushing some double-kick gallop under the solo of “Fiery Sabbath” early on after the leadoff title-track lumbers and chugs and bell-tolls to its ending, heavy enough for heavy heads, aggro enough to suit your sneer, with maybe a bit of Type O Negative influence in the vocal. Huffing oldschool gasoline, Fields of Doom might prove too burled-out for some listeners, but the interlude “Winds of Barren Lands” and the vocal swaps mean that you’re never quite sure where they’re going to hit you next, even if you know the hit is coming, and even as “Soul Stealer” goes grandiose before giving way to the already-noted Vitus cover. And if you’re wondering, they nail the noise of the solo in that song, leaving no doubt that they know what they’re doing, with their own material or otherwise.
Drawing from various corners of punk, noise rock and heavy rock’s accessibility, Munich trio Blind Mess offer their third full-length in After the Storm, which is aptly-enough titled, considering. “Fight Fire with Fire” isn’t a cover, but the closing “What’s the Matter Man?” is, of Rollins Band, no less, and they arrive there after careening though a swath of tunes like “Twilight Zone,” “At the Gates” and “Save a Bullet,” which are as likely to be hardcore-born shove or desert-riffed melody, and in the last of those listed there, a little bit of both. To make matters more complicated, “Killing My Idols” leans into classic metal in its underlying riff as the vocals bark and its swing is heavy ’70s through and through. This aesthetic amalgam holds together in the toughguy march of “Sirens” as much as the garage-QOTSA rush of “Left to Do” and the dares-to-thrash finish of “Fight Fire with Fire” since the songs themselves are well composed and at 38 minutes they’re in no danger of overstaying their welcome. And when they get there, “What’s the Matter Man?” makes a friendly-ish-but-still-confrontational complemement to “Left to Do” back at the outset, as though to remind us that wherever they’ve gone over the course of the album between, it’s all been about rock and roll the whole time. So be it.
Posted in Bootleg Theater on September 27th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Portland, Oregon’s Abronia released their third album, Map of Dawn (review here), earlier this year on Cardinal Fuzz and Feeding Tube Records and spent a couple hot weeks in July on the road in Europe supporting it. As Fall comes to the Pacific Northwest, leaves changing color amid the evergreens, the band settle into the post-release comedown, going from, “We just put out a new LP,” to, “We released a record this year.”
The difference in mindset isn’t nothing, especially after a tour like they did, going abroad for what I’m pretty sure was their first time as a band, on the strength of their finest work to-date, living what many in the US continue to think of as ‘the dream’ for celebrating a new release. And hey, the vinyl’s sold out internationally (still some left for North America), so in addition to the aesthetic accomplishments of Map of Dawn, it’s also been well received. You would mark it a win, is what I’m saying.
But that aftermath can be a doldrum stretch for a group. Less going on at home than away, some of the hoopla surrounding the actual release process lessened over time, and so on. So they’ve got a new video for “Plant the Flag,” which is the second cut on Map of Dawn behind the opener “Night Hoarders,” and it’s creative right unto being presented in a box-tv format. I’m assuming that’s a social media thing, but it does cleverly capture more of a phone screen, and it looks different than most of what’s out there and shooting for cinematic in terms of aspect ratios.
Further, the video emphasizes the depth of atmosphere that Abronia have made their own in the spheres of psychedelic Westernism and heavy psychedelia, encapsulating the cohesion with which they bring these ideas together through songwriting quickly in under four minutes. It thereby serves all the more useful as a post-release single to draw in those who either missed the release in May, meant to dig deeper into the record and got distracted by something else — that happens, even with really good records — or who’ve never heard the band before and might not have an idea what they’re about.
Not that “Plant the Flag” is a complete summary, but on Map of Dawn, it is effective in drawing you deeper into the album, and as a standalone it was certainly more than enough that I went ahead and started streaming the full thing again which, if it needs to be said, is not a thing I regret as “Plant the Flag” gives way to “Games” with such fluidity. Maybe you’ll feel the same. Bandcamp player’s near the links at the bottom if you’d like to find out after you watch the video.
Which is right here, followed by some comment from the band and credits and whatnot. Enjoy:
Abronia, “Plant the Flag” official video
Eric Crespo on “Plant the Flag”:
This video was made by our pedal steel Rick Pedrosa. It includes images that we cut out as potential collage fodder for our album covers, but didn’t end up using. For this video he place the images behind glass and poured different colored dyes over the glass.
Video by Rick Pedrosa and Abronia–”Plant the Flag” from the album “Map of Dawn” released on vinyl by Cardinal Fuzz (UK/EU/The World) and Feeeding Tube Records (North America).
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 26th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Oh hey Doomstress. Been a minute. The Houston-based outfit fronted with power by their namesake Doomstress Alexis will return to the road in their home state over the coming weeks, and they have a few cool shows lined up, including hitting Corpus Christi with (honestly how did anyone ever think Wino would take the shot?) The Obsessed and Switchblade Jesus, and Heavy Mash on Oct. 9 in Arlington. They’ll do a Gravitoyd-presented show on Austin and a hometown stop with Destroyer of Light and a date meeting up with Darsombra as well, so I’m addition for there being opportunity to hit up a show there’s also multiple motivating factors for doing so.
You’ll note that in the lineup below there’s no drummer listed. That might also explain some of the haven’t-toured-lately-ness on the part of Doomstress, but they will, in fact, have someone behind the kit for these dates. Alex Erhardt (The Scourge, EMP) holds the spot for the Obsessed show, and Spike the Percussionist of Fiddlewitch & the Demons of Doom set to take over for October. What comes after as regards lineup, I can’t say, but with hopes to continue plugging away on recordings over the next few months, safe bet is somebody will don the mantle. I’ll let you know, and in the meantime, if you’re in Houston and a drummer, what the hell? Drop a note. Worst thing that happens is they already have someone.
Just saying.
Here’s the tour announcement:
After months of crawling out to play an occassional show, Doomstress is about to spin their wheels across Texas for a month full of weekend shows & fests across the lonestar state including taking Houston friends Quinn the Brain (alt rock) out for 2 dates.
Doomstress has been relatively quiet since the pandemic started following a few years of touring. Almost all members have been involved in other projects including guitarists Brandon Johnson’s new death metal band Haserot (also feat members of Blues Funeral & Sanctus Bellum) and Matt Taylor’ joining sludgy thrashers Thundertank.
Plans after this run of shows are to get back into the studio to review and finish a few new tracks the band had previously been working on. After that Doomstress will continue writing sessions to complete several new songs with plans to get back in the studio by early Spring.
9/30 Corpus Christi, TX @ Boozerz Rock Bar w/ The Obsessed, Switchblade Jesus & Dust in the Void 10/8 Houston, TX @ Black Magic Social Club w/ Destroyer of Light & Scrollkeeper 10/9 Arlington, TX @ Division Brewing/Growl Records – Heavy Mash Fest day 2 10/14 Bryan, TX @ The 101 w/ Quinn the Brain, Cortege & Darsombra 10/15 Tyler, TX @ The Green Room w/ Quinn the Brain & tba 10/22 Austin, TX @ Independence Brewing 10/29 Spring, TX Thistle Draftshop – Craft Beer Fest
Doomstress is: Doomstress Alexis (bass&vox) Brandon Johnson & Matt Taylor (lead/rhythm gtrs).
Posted in Reviews on September 26th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Welcome back to the Fall 2022 Quarterly Review. It’s not quite the same as the Mountain of Madness, but there are definitely days where it feels like they’re pretty closely related. Just the same, we, you and I, persist through like digging a tunnel sans dynamite, and I hope you had a great and safe weekend (also sans dynamite) and that you find something in this batch of releases that you truly enjoy. Not really much point to the thing otherwise, I guess, though it does tend to clear some folders off the desktop. Like, 100 of them in this case. That in itself isn’t nothing.
Time’s a wastin’. Let’s roll.
Quarterly Review #51-60:
Boris, Heavy Rocks
One can’t help but wonder if Boris aren’t making some kind of comment on the franchise-ification of what sometimes feels like every damn thing by releasing a third Heavy Rocks album, as though perhaps it’s become their brand label for this particular kind of raucousness, much as their logo in capital letters or lowercase used to let you know what kind of noise you were getting. Either way, in 10 tracks and 41 minutes that mostly leave scorch marks when they’re done — they space out a bit on “Question 1” but elsewhere in the song pull from black metal and layer in lead guitar triumph — and along the way give plenty more thick toned, sometimes-sax-inclusive on-brand chicanery to dive into. “She is Burning,” “Cramper” and “My Name is Blank” are rippers before the willfully noisy relative slowdown “Blah Blah Blah,” and Japanese heavy institution are at their most Melvinsian with the experiment “Nosferatou,” ahead of the party metal “Ruins” and semi-industrial blowout “Ghostly Imagination,” the would-be-airy-were-it-not-crushing “Chained” and the concluding “(Not) Last Song,” which feeds the central query above in asking if there’s another sequel coming, piano, feedback, and finally, vocals ending what’s been colloquially dubbed Heavy Rocks (2022) with an end-credits scene like something truly Marvelized. Could be worse if that’s the way it’s going. People tend to treat each Boris album as a landmark. I’m not sure this one is, but sometimes that’s part of what happens with sequels too.
Along with the depth of tone and general breadth of the mix, one of the aspects most enjoyable about Mother Bear‘s debut album, Zamonian Occultism, is how it seems to refuse to commit to one side or the other. They call themselves doom and maybe they are in movements here like the title-track, but the mostly-instrumental six-track/41-minute long-player — which opens and closes with lyrics and has “Sultan Abu” in the middle for a kind of human-voice trailmarker along the way — draws more from heavy psychedelia and languid groove on “Anagrom Ataf,” and if “Blue Bears and Silver Spliffs” isn’t stoner riffed, nothing ever has been. At the same time, the penultimate title-track slows way down, pulls the curtains closed, and offers a more massive nod, and the 10-minute closer “The Wizaaard” (just when you thought there were no more ways to spell it) answers that sense of foreboding in its own declining groove and echo-laced verses, but puts the fuzz at the forefront of the mix, letting the listener decide ultimately where they’re at. Tell you where I am at least: On board. Guitarist/vocalist Jonas Wenz, bassist Kevin Krenczer and drummer Florian Grass lock in hypnotic groove early and use it to tie together almost everything they do here, and while they’re obviously schooled in the styles they’re touching on, they present with an individual intent and leave room to grow. Will look forward to more.
After being kicked out of black metallers Absu for coming out as trans, Melissa Moore founded Sonja in Philadelphia with Grzesiek Czapla on drums and Ben Brand on bass, digging into a ‘true metal’ aesthetic with ferocity enough that Loud Arriver is probably the best thing they could’ve called their first record. Issued through Cruz Del Sur — so you know their ’80s-ism is class — the 37-minute eight-tracker vibes nighttime and draws on Moore‘s experience thematically, or so the narrative has it (I haven’t seen a lyric sheet), with energetic shove in “Nylon Nights” and “Daughter of the Morning Star,” growing duly melancholy in “Wanting Me Dead” before finding its victorious moment in the closing title-track. Cuts like “Pink Fog,” “Fuck, Then Die” and opener “When the Candle Burns Low…” feel specifically born of a blend of 1979-ish NWOBHM, but there’s a current of rock and roll here as well in the penultimate “Moans From the Chapel,” a sub-three-minute shove that’s classic in theme as much as riff and the most concise but by no means the only epic here. Hard not to read in catharsis on the part of Moore given how the band reportedly came about, but Loud Arriver serves notice one way or the other of a significant presence in the underground’s new heavy metal surge. Sonja have no time to waste. There are asses to kick.
Seven-minute opener ends in a War of the Worlds-style radio announcement of an alien invasion underway after the initial fuzzed rollout of the song fades, and between that and the subsequent interlude “Funeral March,” Reverend Mother‘s intent on Damned Blessing seems to be to throw off expectation. The Brooklynite outfit led by guitarist/vocalist/songwriter Jackie Green (also violin) find even footing on rockers like “Locomotive” or the driving-until-it-hits-that-slowdown-wall-and-hey-cool-layering “Reverend Mother,” and the strings on the instrumental “L.V.B.,” which boasts a cello guest spot by High Priestess Nighthawk of Heavy Temple, who also returns on the closing Britney Spears cover “Toxic,” a riffed-up bent that demonstrates once again the universal applicability of pop as Reverend Mother tuck it away after the eight-minute “The Masochist Tie,” a sneering roll and chugger that finds the trio of Green, bassist Matt Cincotta and drummer Gabe Katz wholly dug into heavy rock tropes while nonetheless sounding refreshing in their craft. That song and “Shame” before it encapsulate the veer-into-doom-ness of Reverend Mother‘s hard-deliver’d fuzz, but Damned Blessing comes across like the beginning of a new exploration of style as only a next-generation-up take can and heralds change to come. I would not expect their second record to sound the same, but it will be one to watch for. So is this.
The pedigree here is notable as Umbilicus features founding Cannibal Corpse drummer Paul Mazurkiewicz and guitarist/engineer Taylor Nordberg (also visuals), who’s played with Deicide, The Absence and a host of others, but with the soar-prone vocals of Brian Stephenson out front and the warm tonality of bassist Vernon Blake, Umbilicus‘ 10-song/45-minute first full-length, Path of 1000 Suns is a willful deep-dive into modernly-produced-and-presented ’70s-style heavy rock. Largely straightforward in structure, there’s room for proto-metallurgy on “Gates of Neptune” after the swinging “Umbilicus,” and the later melodic highlight “My Own Tide” throws a pure stoner riff into its second half, while the concluding “Gathering at the Kuiper Belt” hints at more progressive underpinnings, it still struts and the swing there is no less defining than in the solo section of “Stump Sponge” back on side A. Hooks abound, and I suppose in some of the drum fills, if you know what you’re listening for, you can hear shades of more extreme aural ideologies, but the prevailing spirit is born of an obvious love of classic heavy rock and roll, and Umbilicus play it with due heart and swagger. Not revolutionary, and actively not trying to be, but definitely the good time it promises.
Not as frenetic as some out there of a similar technically-proficient ilk, Lawrence, Kansas, double-guitar instrumental four-piece After Nations feel as much jazz on “Féin” or “Cae” as they do progressive metal, djent, experimental, or any other tag with which one might want to saddle the resoundingly complex Buddhism-based concept album, The Endless Mountain — the Bandcamp page for which features something of a recommended reading list as well as background on the themes reportedly being explored in the material — which is fluid in composition and finds each of its seven more substantial inclusions accompanied by a transitional interlude that might be a drone, near-silence, a foreboding line of keys, whathaveyou. The later “Širdis” — penultimate to the suitably enlightened “Jūra,” if one doesn’t count the interlude between (not saying you shouldn’t) — is more of a direct linear build, but the 40-minute entirety of The Endless Mountain feels like a steep cerebral climb. Not everyone is going to be up for making it, frankly, but in “}}}” and its punctuationally-named companions there’s some respite from the head-spinning turns that surround, and that furthers both the dynamic at play overall and the accessibility of the songs. Whatever else it might be, it’s immaculately produced and every single second, from “Mons” and “Aon” to “))” and “(),” feels purposeful.
With the over-the-top Danzig-ian vocals coming through high in the mix, the drums sounding intentionally blown out and the fuzz of bass and guitar arriving in tidal riffs, Denmark’s Holy Dragon for sure seem to be shooting for memorability on their second album, Mordjylland. “Hell and Gold” pulls back somewhat from the in-your-face immediacy of opener “Bong” — and yet it’s faster; go figure — and the especially brash “War” is likewise timely and dug in. Centerpiece “Nightwatch” feels especially yarling with its more open riff and far-back echoing drums — those drums are heavy in tone in a way most are not, and it is appreciated — and gives over to the Judas Priestly riff of “Dunder,” which sounds like it’s being swallowed by the bass even as the concluding solo slices through. They cap with “Egypt” in classic-metal, minor-key-sounds-Middle-Eastern fashion, but they’re never far from the burly heft with which they started, and even the mellower finish of “Travel to Kill” feels drawn from it. The album’s title is a play on ‘Nordjylland’ — the region of Denmark where they’re from — and if they’re saying it’s dead, then their efforts to shake it back to life are palpable in these seven songs, even if the end front-to-back result of the album is going to be hit or miss with most listeners. Still, they are markedly individual, and the fact that you could pick them out of the crowd of Europe’s e’er-packed heavy underground is admirable in itself.
Lincoln, Nebraska, trio Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships are right there. Right on the edge. You can hear it in the way “Beg Your Pardon” unfolds its lumbering tonality, riff-riding vocals and fervency of groove at the outset of their second album, Consensus Trance. They’re figuring it out. And they’re working quickly. Their first record, 2021’s TTBS, and the subsequent Rosalee EP (review here) were strong signals of intention on the part of guitarist/vocalist Jeremy Warner, bassist Karlin Warner and drummer Justin Kamal, and there is realization to be had throughout Consensus Trance in the noisy lead of “Mystical Consumer,” the quiet instrumental “Distalgia for Infinity” and the mostly-huge-chugged 11-minute highlight “Weeping Beast” to which it leads. But they’re also still developing their craft, as opener “Beg Your Pardon” demonstrates amid one of the record’s most vibrant hooks, and exploring spaciousness like that in the back half of the penultimate “Silo,” and the sense that emerges from that kind of reach and the YOB-ish ending of capper “I.H.” is that there’s more story to be told as to what Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships have to offer in style and substance. So much the better since Consensus Trance has such superlative heft at its foundation.
Kind of funny to think of Menticide as a debut LP from Deer Creek, who’ve been around for 20 years — one fondly recalls their mid-aughts splits with Church of Misery and Raw Radar War — but one might consider that emblematic of the punk underpinning the sludgy heavy roll of “(It Had Neither Fins Nor Wings) Nor Did it Writhe,” along with the attitude of fuckall that joins hands with resoundingly dense tonality to create the atmosphere of the five originals and the cover medley closer “The Working Man is a Dead Pig,” which draws on Rush, Bauhaus and Black Sabbath classics as a sort of partially explanatory appendix to the tracks preceding. Of those, the impression left is duly craterous, and Deer Creek, with Paul Vismara‘s mostly-clean vocals riding a succession of his own monolithic riffs, a bit of march thrown into “The Utter Absence of Hope” amid the breath of tone from his and Conan Hultgren‘s guitars and Stephanie Hopper‘s bass atop the drumming of Marc Brooks. One is somewhat curious as to what drives a band after two full-length-less decades to make a definitive first album — at least beyond “hey a lot of things have changed in the last couple years” anyhow — but the results here are inarguable in their weight and the spaces they create and fill, with disaffection and onward and outward-looking angst as much as volume. That is to say, as much as Menticide nods, it’s more unsettling the more attention you actually pay to what’s going on. But if you wanted to space out instead, I doubt they’d hold it any more against you than was going to happen anyway. Band who owes nothing to anyone overdelivers. There.
Following the mid-’90s C.O.C. tone and semi-Electric Wizard shouts of “Black Lotus Trance,” “Detroit Demons” calls out Stooges references while burl-riffing around Pantera‘s “I’m Broken,” and “Loose” manifests sleaze to coincide with the exploitation of the Never Sleep at Night EP’s cover art. All of this results in zero-doubt assurance that the Brazilian trio have their bona fides in place when it comes to dudely riffs and an at least partially metal approach; stylistically-speaking, it’s like metal dudes got too drunk to remember what they were angry at and decided to have a party instead. I don’t have much encouraging to say at this juncture about the use of vintage porn as a likely cheap cover option, but no one seems to give a shit about moving past that kind of misogyny, and I guess as regards gender-based discrimination and playing to the male gaze and so on, it’s small stakes. I bet they get signed off the EP anyway, so what’s the point? The point I guess is that the broad universe of those who’d build altars to riffs, Riffcoven are at very least up front with what they’re about and who their target audience is.
swinging jam in “Poor Girl” or the riotous stomp of “Swineherd” that sets the high bar for what follows as the leadoff cut, there’s vitality, electricity, palpable. When they finish with the eponymous “Sonic Flower,” it feels declarative.
