Album Review: Gods of Sometimes, Gods of Sometimes
With their self-titled debut, Gods of Sometimes present a melodic vision of mellow heavy rock with a special penchant for details. Vibes shift between the McCartney-esque bassline of “Dawn of the Tin Man” to the definitely-Lennon “Stilted Low” like a lost White Album piece, some shoegaze, plenty of psychedelia, subdued indie; it’s flowing, and the kind of thing that gets called minimalist because it isn’t loud but is nonetheless rich in its construction. Vocalist, guitarist and Mellotronist Andrew Giacumakis of Moab and bassist/drummer Brad Davis of Fu Manchu each share in the other’s role a bit, with Davis playing some guitar and adding vocals and Giacumakis adding drums and bass, and the Falling Dome Records nine-track/38-minute outing is more varied for that flexibility of approach.
From the initial echoing slide over the gentler acoustic strum of the eponymous opener “Gods of Sometimes,” the album demonstrates, yes, a love of The Beatles — which is not unexpected from Giacumakis, given the three albums Moab released between 2011-2018; Ab Ovo (interview here), Billow (review here), and Trough (discussed here, review here) — but a headphone-ready depth of mix that rewards closer attention, whether it’s the layer of backing vocals riding the held notes in the hook of “Gods of Sometimes” or the later Mellotron/acoustic piece “Wherewithal,” which becomes a highlight on the strength of its string sounds and chorus vocal melody. There is some experimental edge to centerpiece “Hand on the Hide,” making the song feel like it genuinely started with the drone at its outset and was perhaps built from there — the opposite just as likely — but even that sub-three-minute stretch finds its way into clearheaded melody by its finish, with drums arriving about halfway through and that drone staying, but moving to become more of a backdrop than forward feature, resting behind the acoustic guitar and drums and vocals easily.
Cuts like the single “In the End,” which brings in J. Mascis of Dinosaur Jr. and Witch on a later guitar solo, and “Watching for Satellites” — and maybe we can put “Gods of Sometimes” itself in the category as well — have more of a rock-based presentation, but the same is true even of closer “Just Another One,” which is quiet fuzz guitar with far-back drums and mostly-higher-register vocals at the start, before drifting smoothly into slow and psychedelic indie, growing lush by the time it’s two and a half minutes into its total 4:34, getting (relatively) heavy in its march and seeming to solidify in its back half the progression of its first, becoming a wash only for a moment before the snare snaps it to quick-fade-everybody-out silence.
Front-to-back, in the finer moments like the grunge-swing dig-in of “You Will” or the layer of long Mellotron notes that makes the plucked acoustic guitar sound almost classical as it runs alongside the multitracked vocals in the early verse of “Wherewithal” just before, Gods of Sometimes thrive. And they draw the songs together through quality of craft, structure, and atmosphere, so that malleable and adaptable as Giacumakis and Davis seem to be between the bounce and wisp of “Return of the Tin Man” — complemented by Radiohead vibes in the verse — and the blossoming effect of “In the End” as it moves toward its finish, and so on down the line of tracks each making its own impression with its own intent, nothing feels out of place. With that Endless Boogie backbeat under its meditative-but-cool figure and head-trip vocals, even “Hand on the Hide” fits. Think about Sgt. Pepper. Did “When I’m Sixty-Four” have any trouble picking up from “Within You Without You?” No. By keeping an open palette, Gods of Sometimes function similarly to create a whole-album feel.
As regards that feel, vibe, atmosphere, whatever — that intangible, mostly-unquantifiable thing that pulls you into a work instead of repelling you from it — Gods of Sometimes present very few challenges to being immersed. With all nine songs under five minutes long — “Dawn of the Tin Man” comes closest at 4:57 and others aren’t far behind, but still — they run no risk of overstaying their welcome, and the shifts in arrangement throughout, the easy transitions between acoustic and electric guitar, as well as their intertwining, the changing Mellotron sounds and flourishes like the glitchy crackles in the first verse and the keys/drones/backwards ending of “Watching for Satellites,” remain accessible thanks to the structures underlying and the daringly-pleasant melodies overlaid. In the tradition of bands like Masters of Reality, it is not challenging in the least, unless perhaps one is talking about challenging the conventions of heavy rock, because yes, Gods of Sometimes do, at least in part, do that.
That is to say, if you’re coming into Gods of Sometimes because you read that one of the guys from Fu Manchu and the dude from Moab who produced the last two Fu Manchu LPs — 2018’s Clone of the Universe (review here) and 2014’s Gigantoid (review here) — got together for a project and you’re thinking it might sound like either of their other acts, that’s not what their self-titled is doing or wants to do. There are common elements in some heavier tones and some of the rhythms of “Gods of Sometimes” — which was reportedly the first song they wrote — or “Dawn of the Tin Man,” which in coming after the opener signals the band’s purposefully placing catchier, more ‘rocking’ material up front before branching out with “Stilted Low” and regrounding in pop psych-rock via “In the End.” Their doing so speaks to the album as an introduction for those following Giacumakis and Davis from their respective bands to this one, and its warm and inviting presence and the back and forth that follows those first two tracks, weaving through melancholy and breadth en route to the payoff of “Just Another One,” make it an engrossing listen. It blossoms all the more on repeat visits.
Inevitably, the question becomes about the future of the project, if Giacumakis and Davis will continue this collaboration or if this self-titled is it. You never know. They’ve certainly given themselves a variety of aural paths to choose while remaining aware of what they want their songs to do and be, and if they can get another record together at any point — their other time commitments being what they are — one imagines their development will be taken on with no less fluidity than they offer here.
Gods of Sometimes, “Gods of Sometimes”
Gods of Sometimes, “In the End”
Gods of Sometimes on Instagram
Tags: California, Falling Dome Records, Fu Manchu, Gods of Sometimes, Gods of Sometimes Self-titled, Los Angeles, Moab, self-titled
