Marked with a vital scathe and an unflinching capacity for staring into its own darkness, Clarion Void‘s second LP, Failure in Repetition, is being released March 1 through Lost Future Records. And between the failing referenced in the record’s title, the perhaps-tainted-but-still-a win cast in “Through Chaos We Succeed” and a alignment of opposites as “The Bottom” cycles through “The Top” in side B with the last of three industrial-ish drone interludes between them, one wouldn’t be wrong to feel pulled in different directions across the tumultuous 10-track/31-minute procession.
This is very clearly intentional on the part of the Colorado Springs four-piece, who embrace the caustic as a uniting factor from the outset of “Repetition I,” the minute-long machine-churn fade-in that immerses the listener with a ready tension that leads directly into the volatile, hardcore-informed extreme sludge that comes together with a corresponding black metal fervency on “Through Chaos We Succeed,” which lays out its harshness marked by harsh-toned lurch, vicious vocal bite from guitarist Greg Mullenax and an abiding current of noise. You would not call it friendly.
From the toying-with-fuzz-bass and the increasing insistence of chug in the instrumental first half of “Sisyphus Wept” to the seeming complement of blastbeats in the mythologically-on-theme finale “Rolling Boulder,” Failure in Repetition functions as a multifaceted entirety, leaning to one side or the other at a given moment and actually resting too long in one place, however many walls of tone or noise — looking at you, intro to “This is the Water” — they may build and tear down throughout, Mullenax, guitarist Evan Courtland, bassist Bryan Webb and drummer James Ivy maintain a harsh, unsettled atmosphere with a focus highlighted in “Repetition I,” “Repetition II” and “Repetition III” but is consistent in even the rawest moments of scathe, whether that’s the what’s-the-use-of-anything nod beneath the solo in “This is the Water” or the instrumental “Lulu’s Interlude” that follows it, not quite giving the listener a break from the onslaught, but perhaps gathering itself for the next violent phase in the second half of the tracklisting.
Clarion Void‘s 2023 debut, Deafening Sounds of Mortality, followed a not-entirely-dissimilar ethic of world scorch, but Failure in Repetition feels stripped down — though certainly the Greg Wilkinson production wants nothing for density, space or impact — even at its most complex moments. The extreme nature of the vocals is part of that, but as “Repetition II” and “The Bottom” unfold into “Repetition III” and “The Top,” the band show refinement of their craft in the stylistic diversity and abiding crush, as well as the efficiency with which “The Bottom” lumbers and “The Top” sad-slogs, making the churn in the 5:20 longest track/closer “Rolling Boulder” feel like a point of arrival as it digs into itself to build tension before loosing the aforementioned blasts, which feel as though they were held in reserve for the finish and lead into a verse that feels like it’s consuming the band as well as the listener like some kind of destructive ouroboros, then hits into a mega-slowdown to tease an ending before resuming its prior course of punishment.
There are some differences in intent between the two halves of the LP — you might note looking at it below that two of the interludes are on side B while side A feels more compact with “Through Chaos We Succeed,” “Sisyphus Wept” and “This is the Water,” and I think the listening experience bears that out — but Failure in Repetition is cohesive as a whole work of scope that’s almost deceptive with the forward crush and flay. You can stream the record in full below, and if you’re up for it, the void indeed calls you.
Enjoy:
Colorado Springs, CO band Clarion Void today share Failure in Repetition, their forthcoming sophomore album and debut on Lost Future Records.
Failure in Repetition is the newest album from the Colorado Springs, CO based doom-metal quartet Clarion Void. Focused on themes of inevitability and the futility of progress, the album crushes the listener with detuned, sludgy riffs before exploding into a breakneck black metal onslaught. Not for the faint of heart.
Failure in Repetition was recorded with Grammy nominated producer Greg Wilkinson (High on Fire, Pallbearer) at his studio in Oakland, CA.
The album will be available on LP and digital on March 1st, 2024 via Lost Future Records. Pre-orders are available HERE: https://clarionvoidco.bandcamp.com/
CLARION VOID LIVE: 02/29 Colorado Springs, CO – What’s Left Records (album release show)
Artist: Clarion Void Album: Failure in Repetition Label: Lost Future Records Release Date: March 1st, 2024
Tracklisting: 01. Repetition I 02. Through Chaos We Succeed 03. Sisyphus Wept 04. This Is The Water 05. Lulu’s Interlude 06. Repetition II 07. The Bottom 08. Repetition III 09. The Top 10. Rolling Boulder
Posted in Reviews on February 29th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Day four of five puts the end of this Quarterly Review in sight, as will inevitably happen. We passed the halfway point yesterday and by the time today’s done it’s the home stretch. I hope you’ve had a good week. It’s been a lot — and in terms of the general work level of the day, today’s my busiest day; I’ve got Hungarian class later and homework to do for that, and two announcements to write in addition to this, one for today one for tomorrow, and I need to set up the back end of another announcement for Friday if I can. The good news is that my daughter seems to be over the explosive-vomit-time stomach bug that had her out of school on Monday. The better news is I’ve yet to get that.
But if I’m scatterbrained generally and sort of flailing, well, as I was recently told after I did a video interview and followed up with the artist to apologize for my terribleness at it, at least it’s honest. I am who I am, and I think that there are places where people go and things people do that sometimes I have a hard time with. Like leaving the house. And parenting. And interviewing bands, I guess. Needing to plow through 10 reviews today and tomorrow should be a good exercise in focusing energy, even if that isn’t necessarily getting the homework done faster. And yeah, it’s weird to be in your 40s and think about homework. Everything’s weird in your 40s.
Quarterly Review #31-40:
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Monkey3, Welcome to the Machine
What are Monkey3 circa 2024 if not a name you can trust? The Swiss instrumental four-piece are now more than 20 years removed from their 2003 self-titled debut, and Welcome to the Machine — their seventh album and fourth release on Napalm Records (three studio, one live) — brings five new songs across 46 minutes of stately progressive heavy craft, with the lead cut “Ignition” working into an early gallop before cutting to ambience presumably as a manifestation of hitting escape velocity and leaving the planetary atmosphere, and trading from there between longer (10-plus-minute) and shorter (six- and seven-minute) pieces that are able to hit with a surprising impact when they so choose. Second track “Collision” comes to crush in a way that even 2019’s Sphere (review here) didn’t, and to go with its methodical groove, heavy post-rock airiness and layered-in acoustic guitar, “Kali Yuga” (10:01) is tethered by a thud of drums that feels no less the point of the thing than the mood-aura in the largesse that surrounds. Putting “Rackman” (7:13, with hints of voice or keyboard that sounds like it), which ends furiously, and notably cinematic closer “Collapse” (12:51) together on side B is a distinct immersion, and the latter places Monkey3 in a prog-metal context that defies stylistic expectation even as it lives up to the promise of the band’s oeuvre. Seven records and more than two decades on, and Monkey3 are still evolving. This is a special band, and in a Europe currently awash in heavy instrumentalism of varying degrees of psychedelia, it’s hard to think of Monkey3 as anything other than aesthetic pioneers.
With its Sabbath-born chug and bluesy initial groove opening to NWOBHM grandeur at the solo, the opening title-track is quick to reassure that Sweden’s The Quill are themselves on Wheel of Illusion, even if the corresponding classic metal elements there a standout from the more traditional rock of “Elephant Head” with its tambourine, or the doomier roll in “Sweet Mass Confusion,” also pointedly Sabbathian and thus well within the wheelhouse of guitarist Christian Carlsson, vocalist Magnus Ekwall, bassist Roger Nilsson and drummer Jolle Atlagic. While most of Wheel of Illusion is charged in its delivery, the still-upbeat “Rainmaker” feels like a shift in atmosphere after the leadoff and “We Burn,” and atmospherics come more into focus as the drums thud and the strings echo out in layers as “Hawks and Hounds” builds to its ending. While “The Last Thing” works keyboard into its all-go transition into nodding capper “Wild Mustang,” it’s the way the closer seems to encapsulate the album as a whole and the perspective brought to heavy rock’s founding tenets that make The Quill such reliable purveyors, and Wheel of Illusion comes across like special attention was given to the arrangements and the tightness of the songwriting. If you can’t appreciate kickass rock and roll, keep moving. Otherwise, whether it’s your first time hearing The Quill or you go back through all 10 of their albums, they make it a pleasure to get on board.
Equal parts brash and disillusioned, Nebula Drag‘s Dec. 2023 LP, Western Death, is a ripper whether you’re dug into side ‘Western’ or side ‘Death.’ The first half of the psych-leaning-but-more-about-chemistry-than-effects San Diego trio’s third album offers the kind of declarative statement one might hope, with particular scorch in the guitar of Corey Quintana, sway and ride in Stephen Varns‘ drums and Garrett Gallagher‘s Sabbathian penchant for working around the riffs. The choruses of “Sleazy Tapestry,” “Kneecap,” “Side by Side,” “Tell No One” and the closing title-track speak directly to the listener, with the last of them resolved, “Look inside/See the signs/Take what you can,” and “Side by Side” a call to group action, “We don’t care how it gets done/Helpless is the one,” but there’s storytelling here too as “Tell No One” turns the sold-your-soul-to-play-music trope and turns it on its head by (in the narrative, anyhow) keeping the secret. Pairing these ideas with Nebula Drag‘s raw-but-not-sloppy heavy grunge, able to grunge-crunch on “Tell No One” even as the vocals take on more melodic breadth, and willing to let it burn as “Western Death” departs its deceptively angular riffing to cap the 34-minute LP with the noisy finish it has by then well earned.
LLNN & Sugar Horse, The Horror bw Sleep Paralysis Demon
Brought together for a round of tour dates that took place earlier this month, Pelagic Records labelmates LLNN (from Copenhagen) and Sugar Horse (from Bristol, UK) each get one track on a 7″ side for a showcase. Both use it toward obliterating ends. LLNN, who are one of the heaviest bands I’ve ever seen live and I’m incredibly grateful for having seen them live, dig into neo-industrial churn on “The Horror,” with stabbing synth later in the procession that underscores the point and less reliance on tonal onslaught than the foreboding violence of the atmosphere they create. In response, Sugar Horse manage to hold back their screams and lurching full-bore bludgeonry for nearly the first minute of “Sleep Paralysis Demon” and even after digging into it dare a return to cleaner singing, admirable in their restraint and more effectively tense for it when they push into caustic sludge churn and extremity, space in the guitar keeping it firmly in the post-metal sphere even as they aim their intent at rawer flesh. All told, the platter is nine of probably and hopefully-for-your-sake the most brutal minutes you might experience today, and thus can only be said to accomplish what it set out to do as the end product sounds like two studios would’ve needed rebuilding afterward.
Fuzzter aren’t necessarily noisy in terms of playing noise rock on Pandemonium, but from the first cymbal crashes after the Oppenheimer sample at the start of “Extinción,” the Peruvian outfit engage an uptempo heavy psych thrust that, though directed, retains a chaotic aspect through the band’s willingness to be sound if not actually be reckless, to gang shout before the guitars drift off in “Thanatos,” to be unafraid of being eaten by their own swirl in “Caja de Pandora” or to chug with a thrashy intensity at the start of closer “Tercer Ojo,” doom out massive in the song’s middle, and float through jazzy minimalism at the finish. But even in that, there are flashes, bursts that emphasize the unpredictability of the songs, which is an asset throughout what’s listed as the Lima trio’s third EP but clocks in at 36 minutes with the instrumental “Purgatorio,” which starts off like it might be an interlude but grows more furious as its five minutes play out, tucked into its center. If it’s a short release, it is substantial. If it’s an album, it’s substantial despite a not unreasonable runtime. Ultimately, whatever they call it is secondary to the space-metal reach and the momentum fostered across its span, which just might carry you with it whether or not you thought you were ready to go.
The listed representation of dreams in “Dream One” adds to the concrete severity of Cold in Berlin‘s dark, keyboard-laced post-metallic sound, but London-based four-piece temper that impact with the post-punk ambience around the shove of the later “Found Out” on their The Body is the Wound 19-minute four-songer, and build on the goth-ish sway even as “Spotlight” fosters a heavier, more doomed mindset behind vocalist Maya, whose verses in “When Did You See Her Last” are complemented by dramatic lines of keyboard and who can’t help but soar even as the overarching direction is down, down, down into either the subconscious referenced in “Dream One” or some other abyss probably of the listener’s own making. Five years and one actual-plague after their fourth full-length, 2019’s Rituals of Surrender, bordering on 15 since the band got their start, they cast resonance in mood as well as impact (the latter bolstered by Wayne Adams‘ production), and are dynamic in style as well as volume, with each piece on The Body is the Wound working toward its own ends while the EP’s entirety flows with the strength of its performances. They’re in multiple worlds, and it works.
With the expansive songwriting of multi-instrumentalist/sometimes-vocalist Eric McQueen at its core, The Mountain King issue Apostasyn as possibly their 10th full-length in 10 years and harness a majestic, progressive doom metal that doesn’t skimp either on the doom or the metal, whether that takes the form of the Type O Negative-style keys in “The White Noise From God’s Radio” or the tremolo guitar in the apex of closer “Axolotl Messiah.” The title-track is a standout for more than just being 15 minutes long, with its death-doom crux and shifts between minimal and maximal volumes, and the opening “Dødo” just before fosters immersion after its maybe-banging-on-stuff-maybe-it’s-programmed intro, with a hard chug answered in melody by guest singer Julia Gusso, who joins McQueen and the returning Frank Grimbarth (also guitar) on vocals, while Robert Bished adds synth to McQueen‘s own. Through the personnel changes and in each piece’s individual procession, The Mountain King are patient, waiting in the dark for you to join them. They’ll probably just keep basking in all that misery until you get there, no worries. Oh, and I’ll note that the download version of Apostasyn comes with instrumental versions of the four tracks, in case you’d really like to lose yourself in ruminating.
The self-titled debut from Parisian doomers Witchorious is distinguished by its moments of sludgier aggression — the burly barks in “Monster” at the outset, and so on — but the chorus of “Catharsis” that rises from the march of the verse offers a more melodic vision, and the three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Antoine Auclair, bassist/vocalist Lucie Gaget and drummer Paul Gaget, continue to play to multiple sides of a modern metal and doom blend, while “The Witch” adds vastness and roll to its creeper-riff foundation. The guitar-piece “Amnesia” serves as an interlude ahead of “Watch Me Die” as Witchorious dig into the second half of the album, and as hard has that song comes to hit — plenty — the character of the band is correspondingly deepened by the breadth of “To the Grave,” which follows before the bonus track “Why” nod-dirges the album’s last hook. There’s clarity in the craft throughout, and Witchorious seem aware of themselves in stylistic terms if not necessarily writing to style, and noteworthy as it is for being their first record, I look forward to hearing how they refine and sharpen the methods laid out in these songs. The already-apparent command with which they direct the course here isn’t to be ignored.
Though their penchant for cult positioning and exploitation-horror imagery might lead expectations elsewhere, North Carolinian trio Skull Servant present a raw, sludge-rocking take on their second LP, Traditional Black Magicks II, with bassist Noah Terrell and guitarist Calvin Bauer reportedly swapping vocal duties per song across the five tracks while drummer Ryland Dreibelbis gives fluidity to the current of distortion threaded into “Absinthe Dreams,” which is instrumental on the album but newly released as a standalone single with vocals. I don’t know if the wrong version got uploaded or what — Bauer ends up credited with vocals that aren’t there — but fair enough. A meaner, punkier stonerism shows itself as “Poison the Unwell” hints at facets of post-hardcore and “Pergamos,” the two shortest pieces placed in front of the strutting “Lucifer’s Reefer” and between that cut and the Goatsnake-via-Sabbath riffing of “Satan’s Broomstick.” So it could be that Skull Servant, who released the six-song outing on Halloween 2023, are still sorting through where they want to be sound-wise, or it could be they don’t give a fuck about genre convention and are gonna do whatever they please going forward. I won’t predict and I’m not sure either answer is wrong.
Notice of arrival is served as Lord Velvet dig into classic vibes and modern heft on their late 2023 debut EP, Astral Lady, to such a degree that I actually just checked their social media to see if they’d been signed yet before I started writing about them. Could happen, and probably will if they want it to, considering the weight of low end and the flowing, it’s-a-vibe-man vibe, plus shred, in “Lament of Io” and the way they make that lumber boogie through (most of) “Snakebite Fever.” Appearing in succession, “Night Terrors” and “From the Deep” channel stoned Iommic revelry amid their dynamic-in-tempo doomed intent, and while “Black Beam of Gemini” rounds out with a shove, Lord Velvet retain the tonal presence on the other end of that quick, quiet break, ready to go when needed for the crescendo. They’re not reinventing stoner rock and probably shouldn’t be trying to on this first EP, but they feel like they’re engaging with some of the newer styles being proffered by Magnetic Eye or sometimes Ripple Music, and if they end up there or elsewhere before they get around to making a full-length, don’t be surprised. If they plan to tour, so much the better for everybody.
Norway’s heavy renaissance continues with the May 10 release of Gjenferd‘s self-titled debut on Apollon Records. To be sure, youth is on Gjenferd‘s side as they unfurl “Starless” (premiering below) as the first single from the upcoming six-track LP, but with hints in “High Octane” of upstanding countrymen heavy rock preservationists Spidergawd, a thread of organ running throughout that is more than just mix-filler or complementary happenstance following the guitar pattern, and what seems like a clear idea of the kind of band they want to be, it’s a noteworthy arrival for more than just the harmonies and ’70s-prog-classicism-gone-rockin’ in the culmination of “Restless Nights,” the sweeping chorus in “Burning Soil” or the way the lead guitar in “Beneath the Wave” surges to the fore ahead of the jammier reach (still plotted but maybe part-improv) in “All That Remains is Haze,” though certainly all of those help.
There’s vintage worship happening, but not enough to push aside the breadth of the Hans Uhre production or the mix/master by now-of-Enslaved‘s Iver Sandøy. That speaks to the idea of the band knowing what they’re about as noted above, and in terms of the actual listening experience, I think you can hear in the seven minutes of “Starless” how they take advantage of modern tonal largesse to coincide with their root melodicism. I don’t think anyone’s claiming to have invented space here or trying to pretend they’ve invented a wholly new style, but neither is there want of personality or freshness of approach in the songs. If I tell you ‘heads up’ on the record and invite you to dig into the single, know that I’m trying to make your day better and think there’s a good chance this’ll do it. A bit of Rhodes dreaminess is good for the soul anyhow.
Please enjoy:
Gjenferd is a brand new band from Bergen (but formed in Kristiansand), Norway, inspired by heavy rock’s childhood when hammond organs and walls with guitar amplifiers dominated the stages. Long nights of lager, noise, obscure 70s records and rigging of way too heavy Fender Rhodes have resulted in an album that is a sonic explosion of tenacious and hard-hitting riffs, electric noise and idiotically catchy vocal harmonies.
On 1 March, the band will release the album’s first single “Starless”.
The band consists of members from, among others, Kryptograf, Edvard Borneo and Metusalem.
Recorded by: Hans Uhre Mix and master by: Iver Sandøy Artwork and layout: Robert Høyem Recorded at Grisehuset (Odderøya)
Gjenferd er: Vegard Bachmann Strand – Gitar og vokal Jakob Særvoll – Keyboard og vokal Samuel Robson Gardner – Bass Sivert Kleiven Larsen – Trommer
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 28th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
If you think I’m about to start complaining about a new two-songer from Pelican, you’ve got the wrong place. The long-running Chicago (mostly-) instrumentalists helped pioneer a take on heavy informed by post-rock, post-punk, emo and shoegaze, and considering that kind of thing is everywhere now, I’d say history has proven them right, whereas one recalls in their earlier going the message-board kerfuffle the airier elements of their styles caused. Dudes were pissed. But in the parlance of that same internet, Pelican did nothing wrong. Wasn’t their fault, being skinny and playing heavy.
Yeah, there’s probably a bit of the power of suggestion with the first on-studio-recording appearance of guitarist Laurent Schroeder-Lebec since he rejoined the band — you’ll recall Dallas Thomas (Asschapel, The Swan King, etc.) held the position for the intervening years — but I do hear some aspects of Pelican‘s earlier work in Adrift/Tending the Embers, which carries all the poise one might expect from Pelican as a veteran act but seems as well to be exploring and questioning what it is that makes Pelican who they are. Was it a willingness to be heavy without metal’s chestbeating toxicity? That bit of float amid all the surrounding crunch?
I don’t have the answers to these questions, but as many have been following the band on the trail they’ve marched lo these last two-plus decades, as many have taken on their influence and as forward as the band has always looked, I’m sure glad there’s new music happening alongside the reissues and covers that came out last year. Whatever this leads to or doesn’t as regards a full-length, I’ll take what I can get. If you want to hear it before it’s out on Friday, there’s a listening party on Bandcamp tomorrow you can get on board for. Info follows as per the band’s email list:
Dear friends – we are thrilled to announce that we have launched pre-orders for our new ‘Adrift / Tending the Embers’ EP, which is out this Friday. These are our first new songs since 2019 and the first material written with founding guitarist Laurent Schroeder-Lebec since 2012.
Laurent joined us on our 2022 Summer tour and the reunion proved so inspiring that we began writing a new album early last year. The ideas were flowing so quickly that it soon became clear that there was more than an album’s worth of material in the works. Late last year we booked studio time with our longtime collaborator Sanford Parker to document a pair of the earliest compositions in order to present them to our supporters sooner than later.
The result is ‘Adrift / Tending the Embers’ – digital preorders are up right now and a limited cassette version (first press is 200 copies) will be coming on Friday. We’ve also launched preorders for a limited long sleeve shirt based on Christian Degn’s hand illustrated EP artwork- we will only be accepting orders for this until March 6, so jump on it sooner than later if you’re interested.
If you’re interested in hearing the EP early we will be hosting a Bandcamp listening party tomorrow at 2pm EST / 11am PST. Please join us!
We can’t thank you enough for you support and your patience. We’re still writing the album, so it may be a little wait for that still, but we are so excited by the direction of the new material and are thrilled for you all to hear it when the time comes.
Posted in Reviews on February 28th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Welcome to Wednesday of the Quarterly Review. If you’ve been here before — and I do this at least four times a year, so maybe you have and maybe you haven’t — I’m glad you’re back, and if not, I’m glad you’re here at all. These things are always an undertaking, and in a vacuum, I’m pretty sure busting out 10 shorter reviews per day would be a reasonably efficient process. I don’t live in a vacuum. I live vacuuming.
Metaphorically, at least. Looking around the room, it’s pretty obvious ‘vacuum life’ is intermittent.
Today we hit the halfway mark of this standard-operating-procedure QR, and we’ll get to 30 of the 50 releases to be covered by the time Friday is done or die trying, as that’s also the general policy. As always, I hope you find something in this batch of 10 that you dig. Doesn’t have to be any more of a thing than that. Doesn’t need to change your life, just maybe take the moment you’re in and make it a little better.
Quarterly Review #21-30:
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Deadpeach, The Cosmic Haze and the Human Race
A new full-length from Italian cosmic fuzz rockers Deadpeach doesn’t come along every day. Though the four-piece here comprised of guitarist/vocalist Giovanni Giovannini, guitarist Daniele Bartoli, bassist Mrsteveman and drummer Federico Tebaldi trace their beginnings back to 1993, the seven-song/37-minute exploration The Cosmic Haze and the Human Race is just their fourth full-length in that span of 31 years, following behind 2013’s Aurum (review here), though they haven’t been completely absent in that time, with the 2019 unplugged offering Waiting for Federico session (review here), 2022’s Live at Sidro Club, etc. But whether it’s the howling-into-the-void guitar over the methodical toms in the experimental-vibing closer “Loop (Set the Control to Mother Earth),” the mellower intro of “Madras” that leads both to chunky-style chug and the parade of classic-heavy buzz that is “Motor Peach,” what most comes through is the freedom of the band to do what they want in the psychedelic sphere. “Man on the Hill (The Fisherman and the Farmer)” tells its tale with blues rock swing while the subsequent “Cerchio” resolves Beatlesian with bouncy string and horn sounds and is its own realization at the center of the procession before the languid roll of “Monday” (so it goes) picks up its tempo later on. A mostly lo-fi recording still creates an atmosphere, and Deadpeach represent who they are in the weirdo space grunge of “Rust,” toying with influences from a desert that’s surely somewhere on another planet before “Loop (Set the Controls for Mother Earth)” turns repetition into mantra. They might be underrated forever, but Deadpeach only phase into our dimension intermittently and it’s worth appreciating them while they’re here.
In or out of post-metal and the aggressive end of atmospheric sludge, there are few bands currently active who deliver with the visceral force of Oslo’s SÂVER. From Ember and Rust is the second LP from the three-piece of Ole Ulvik Rokseth (guitar), Markus Støle (drums) and Ole Christian Helstad (bass/vocals), and while it signals growth in the synthy meditation worked into “I, Evaporate” after the lead-with-nod opener “Formless,” and the intentionally overwhelming djent chug that pays off the penultimate “The Object,” it is the consuming nature of the 43-minute entirety that is most striking, dynamic in its sprawl and thoughtful in arrangement both within and between its songs — the way the drone starts “Eliminate Distance” and returns to lull the listener momentarily out of consciousness before the bassy start of centerpiece “Ember and Rust” prompts a return ahead of its daring and successful clean vocal foray. That’s a departure, contextually speaking, but noteworthy even as “Primal One” lumbersmashes anything resembling hope to teeny tiny bits, leaving room in its seven minutes to catchy its breath amid grooving proggy chug and bringing back the melodic singing. As much as they revel in the caustic, there’s serenity in the catharsis of “All in Disarray” at the album’s conclusion, and as much as SÂVER are destructive, they’re cognizant of the world they’re building as part of that.
Ruben Romano, The Imaginary Soundtrack to the Imaginary Western Twenty Graves Per Mile
Departing from the heavy psychedelic blues rock proffered by his main outfit The Freeks, multi-instrumentalist and elsewhere-vocalist Ruben Romano — who also drummed for Fu Manchu and Nebula in their initial incarnations — digs into Western aural themes on his cumbersomely-titled solo debut, The Imaginary Soundtrack to the Imaginary Western Twenty Graves Per Mile. To be clear, there is no movie called Twenty Graves Per Mile (yet), and the twice-over-imaginary nature of the concept lets Romano meander a bit in pieces like “Sweet Dream Cowboy” and “Ode to Fallen Oxen,” the latter of which tops its rambling groove with a line of delay twang, while “Chuck Wagon Sorrow” shimmers with outward simplicity with a sneaky depth to its mix (to wit, the space in “Not Any More”). At 10 songs and 27 minutes, the collection isn’t exactly what you’d call ‘feature length,’ but as it hearkens back to the outset with “Load the Wagon (Reprise)” bookending the opener, it is likewise cohesive in style and creative in arrangement, with Romano bringing in various shakers, mouth harp, effects and so on to create his ‘soundtrack’ with a classic Western feel and the inevitable lysergic current. Not as indie or desert chic as Spindrift, who work from a similar idea, but organic and just-came-in-covered-with-dust folkish just the same. If the movie existed, I’d be interested to know which of these tracks would play in the saloon.
With the seven-minute “Earth Blues” left off the vinyl for want of room, German heavy psychedelic instrumentalists Kosmodrom put a color filter on existence with Welcome to Reality as much as on the cover, shimmering in “Dazed in Space” with a King Buffalo‘ed resonance such that the later, crunchier fuzz roll of “Evil Knievel” feels like a departure. While the three-piece are no doubt rooted in jams, Welcome to Reality presents finished works, following a clear plot in the 10-minute “Quintfrequenz” and the gradual build across the first couple minutes of “Landstreicher” — an intent that comes more into focus a short while later on “Novembersong” — before “Earth Blues” brings a big, pointed slowdown. They cap with “OM,” which probably isn’t named after the band but can be said to give hints in their direction if you want to count its use of ride cymbal at the core of its own build, and which in its last 40 seconds still manages to find another level of heft apparently kept in reserve all along. Well played. As their first LP since 2018, Welcome to Reality feels a bit like it’s reintroducing the band, and in listening, seems most of all to encourage the listener to look at the world around them in a different, maybe more hopeful way.
Heads experienced in post-metal will be able to pick out elements like the Russian Circles gallop in The Endless‘ “Riven” or the Isis-style break the Edmonton-based instrumental unit veers into on “Shadows/Wolves” at the center of their self-titled debut, but as “The Hadeon Eon” — the title of which references the planet’s earliest and most volatile geological era — subtly invites the listener to consider, this is the band’s first recorded output. Formed in 2019, derailed and reconstructed post-pandemic, the four-piece of guitarists Teddy Palmer and Eddy Keyes, bassist James Palmer and drummer Jarred Muir are coherent in their stylistic intent, but not so committed to genre tenets as to forego the sweeter pleasure of the standalone guitar at the start of the nine-minute “Reflection,” soon enough subsumed though it is by the spacious lurch that follows. There and throughout, the band follow a course somewhere between post-metal and atmospheric sludge, and the punch of low end in “Future Archives,” the volume trades between loud and quiet stretches bring a sense of the ephemeral as well as the ethereal, adding character without sacrificing impact in the contrast. Their lack of pretense will be an asset as they continue to develop.
Kudos if you can keep up with the shifts wrought from track to track on Our Maddest Edges‘ apparent first long-player, Peculiar Spells, as the Baltimorean solo-project spearheaded by Jeff Conner sets out on a journey of genuine eclecticism, bringing The Beatles and Queens of the Stone Age stylistically together and also featuring one of the several included duets on “Swirl Cone,” some grunge strum in “Hella Fucky” after the remake-your-life spoken/ambient intro “Thoughts Can Change,” a choral burst at the beginning of the spoken-word-over-jazz “Slugs,” which of course seems to be about screwing, as well as the string-laced acoustic-led sentimentality on “Red Giant,” the Casio beat behind the bright guitar plucks of “Frozen Season,” the full-tone riffs around which “I Ain’t Done” and “St. Lascivious” are built, and the sax included with the boogie of “The Totalitarian Tiptoe,” just for a few examples of the places its 12 component tracks go in their readily-consumable 37-minute runtime. Along with Conner are a reported 17 guests appearing throughout, among them Stefanie Zaenker (ex-Caustic Casanova). Info is sparse on the band and Conner‘s work more broadly, but his history in the punkish Eat Your Neighbors accounts for some of the post-hardcore at root here, and his own vocals (as opposed to those of the seven other singers appearing) seem to come from somewhere similar. Relatively quick listen, but not a minor undertaking.
Rolling out with the ambient intro before beginning its semi-Electric Wizardly slog in “Taken by the Black,” Death Unto My Enemy is the 2023 debut from New York City’s Saint Omen. Issued by Forbidden Place Records, its gritty nod holds together even as “Evolution of the Demon” threatens to fall apart, samples filling out the spaces not occupied by vocals, communicating themes dark, violent, and occult in pieces like the catchy-despite-its-harsher-vocal “Destroyer” or the dark swirl of “Sinners Crawl.” Feeling darker as it moves through its 10 songs, it saves a particular grim experimentalism for closer “Descent,” but by the time Death Unto My Enemy gets there, surely your mind and soul have already been poisoned and reaped, respectively, by “The Seventh Gate,” “The Black Mass” and the penultimate title-track, that deeper down is the only place left to go. So that’s where you go; a humming abyss of anti-noise. Manhattan has never been a epicenter of cultish doom, but Saint Omen‘s abiding death worship and bleakness — looking at you, “Sleepness” — shift between dramaturge and dug-in lumber, and the balance is only intriguing for the rawness with which it is delivered, harsher in its purpose than sound, but still plenty harsh in sound.
The psychedelic aspects of Samsara Joyride‘s The Subtle and the Dense feel somewhat compartmentalized, but that’s not necessarily a detriment to the songs, as the solo that tops the drearily moderated tempo of “Too Many Preachers” or the pastoral tones that accompany the bluesier spirit of “Who Tells the Story” emphasize. The Austrian outfit’s second full-length, The Subtle and the Dense seems aware of its varied persona, but whether it’s the swaggering stops of “No One is Free” calling to mind Child or the sax and guest vocals that mark such a turn with “Safe and Sound” at the end, Samsara Joyride are firm in their belief that because something is bluesy or classic doesn’t necessarily mean it needs to be simple. From the layer of acoustic guitar worked into opener “I Won’t Sign Pt. 1” — their first album also had a two-parter, the second one follows directly here as track two — to the gang chorus worked in amid the atmospheric reach of “Sliver,” Samsara Joyride communicate a progressive take on traditionalist aesthetics, managing as few in this end of the heavy music realm ever do to avoid burly masculine caricature in the process. For that alone, easily worth the time to listen.
Like a check-in from some alternate-universe version of Fu Manchu who stuck closer to their beginnings in punk and hardcore, Californian heavy noise rockers That Ship Has Sailed tap volatility and riffy groove alike through the five songs of their Kingdom of Nothing EP, with an admirable lack of bullshit included within that net-zero assessment amid the physical push of riffs like “One-Legged Dog” or “Iron Eagle II” when the drums go to half-time behind the guitar and bass. It’s not all turn-of-the-century disaffection and ‘members of’ taglines though as “Iron Eagle II” sludges through its finish and “I Am, Yeah” becomes an inadvertent anthem for those who’ve never quite been able to keep their shit together, “Sweet Journey” becomes a melodic highlight while fostering the heaviest crash, and “Ready to Go” hits like a prequel to Nebula‘s trip down the stoner rock highway. Catchy in spite of its outward fuckall (or at least fuckmost), Kingdom of Nothing is more relatable than friendly or accessible, which feels about right. It’s cool guys. I never got my shit together either.
The fourth EP in the 10-year history of Brazi’s Spiral Guru, who also released their Void long-player in 2019 and the “The Fantastic Hollow Man” single in 2021, Silenced Voices is distinguished immediately by the vocal command and range of Andrea Ruocco, and I’d suspect that if you’re already familiar with the band, you probably know that. Ruocco‘s voice, in its almost operatic use of breath to reach higher notes, carries some element of melodic metal’s grandeur, but Samuel Pedrosa‘s fuzz riffing and the fluid roll of bassist José Ribeiro and drummer Alexandre H.G. Garcia on the title-track avoid that trap readily, ending up somewhere between blues, psych, and ’70s swing on “Caves and Graves” but kept modern in the atmosphere fostered by Pedrosa‘s lead guitar. Another high-quality South American band ignored by the gringo-dude-dominant underground of Europe and the US? Probably, but I’m guilty too a decade after Spiral Guru‘s start, so all I can say is I’m doing my best out here. This band should probably be on Nuclear Blast by now. Stick around for “The Cabin Man” and you’d best be ready to dance.
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 28th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
This will be a thing I’ll enjoy owning. The Obelisk All-Dayer was an event I put together starting in 2015 for Aug. 20, 2016. It was held at the Saint Vitus Bar in Brooklyn. Heavy Temple and King Buffalo opened. Mars Red Sky headlined. Death Alley (now defunct), Kings Destroy and also-disbanded Ohio proggers EYE featured, and it was with a particular personal joy that Snail agreed to make the trek from their respective homes in Washington and Southern California to make their first East Coast appearance(s), playing Boston and Rhode Island as they made their way south to NYC.
I had been lucky enough to see Snail previously, on a 2010 trip to San Francisco (review here), where I also met the then-four-piece-now-trio for the first time, and I could gladly go on about how rad that was, but the bottom line is that even asking Snail to play was something I was doing as a fan of the band, and as they had released their stunning Feral (review here) LP in 2015, the timing couldn’t have been better.
It’s humbling to think it was special for them too. Most of all, I’m glad it happened and I’ll be glad to have this as a document of it. It’s digital-only for now, but I bet you could convince them to make some tapes if the downloads do well enough. We’ll see. Either way, I’m grateful it exists and for the kind thoughts the band express below.
Maybe 2026? I’ll think about it. For now, two tracks from Thou Art There are streaming below to mark the launch of preorders and the band’s 2021 LP, Fractal Altar (review here), is down there too in order to facilitate further digging.
So by all means, dig:
It was early Spring of 2016, and Snail had just come off the long-awaited release of Feral, when they got an email from JJ Koczan of the heavy psych blog The Obelisk. JJ was putting together a festival called ‘The Obelisk All-Dayer’ and wanted to know if they would be into playing. Without a second thought they were on board; this was destined to be a gathering of the tribes that no one wanted to miss!
Fans and bands came from all over – as far away as France – to play and be a part of it. This was Snail’s first tour on the East Coast, and the welcome couldn’t have been warmer. After playing shows in Boston and Rhode Island, Snail arrived at the club, devoured the catered veggie tacos and began meeting fans that they had only interacted with online. Everyone was so genuinely nice and positive, the music was HEAVY, and the energy in the club and city was electric.
Snail was exhilarated being on stage and playing for what felt like their “people.” Having loosened up with previous shows, they was now firing on all cylinders and vibing off the crowd. Seeing JJ head-banging in the front when the riff dropped for set closer ‘Thou Art That’ was like attaining heavy-music realization and the entire room resonated together.
So if you were there, we hope this recording puts you right back to that day and lives up to the memory. And if you weren’t, this is a chance to check out what all the fuss was about. Thou Art There.
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 27th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
I had already nestled into my not-going-to-Roadburn-this-year melancholy, but a couple weeks ago, I actually got invited to go. And I’m going. It’ll be my first time in Tilburg since 2019, my first Roadburn of the post-pandemic heaviness-redefining era, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. Not knowing most of the artists isn’t a big deal — Roadburn delights in ground-floor introductions and is happy to make them without judgement — but I’ll be in a place that I used to very much think of as a kind of home for the first time in five years. What if it doesn’t feel like home anymore?
I have no logical answer for why it wouldn’t — usually an invitation is a decent sign you’re wanted somewhere, and I’ll say outright that neither the Roadburn Festival as an entity nor any individual or group involved with it has any need of me there — I edited the daily fest ‘zine for years with Lee from The Sleeping Shaman, but that’s long gone and I figured I was with it. Even having that as a place to contribute felt pretty tertiary to the experience of being there, but it was part of the thing. Do you think they’d still let me in the 013 office at 10AM each morning to drink coffee and shoot the shit? Yeah, probably not.
It will be an adventure in where-to-put-myself, but Roadburn‘s got pockets for even the most misanthropic of us to dwell for a few days, and I know once I get there and the music starts everything will be okay. I very much look forward to that. Thank you Roadburn for having me.
Their latest announcement follows. Also note that Inter Arma, whose New Heaven LP was announced today, were already confirmed to play the album in full at Roadburn 2024:
Roadburn adds 16 new names to the 2024 lineup including King Yosef, Lord Spikeheart, HIDE, Brigid Mae Power, Hilary Woods and more
Roadburn has today announced the final names for the main musical programme of the 2024 edition of the festival. The festival’s side programme, art exhibitions and Paradox jazz club artists are still to be announced for the festival, which will take place between 18-21 April in Tilburg, The Netherlands.
Roadburn’s artistic director, Walter Hoeijmakers, comments: The line-up for Roadburn 2024 is finally complete. We are immensely proud of the diverse array of artists that we have gathered, and we feel that we are channeling past, present and future artistically, musically and spiritually. We can’t wait to explore and discover everything that is in store and celebrate our beloved underground together with all of you.
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Brigid Mae Power will deliver alchemical incantations and dreamy folk-pop melodies.
Channeling intensity and vulnerability, deathcrash’s slowcore will be a welcome addition.
Fear Falls Burning will premiere new music in the form of their new album, The Principle Flaw.
Gros Coeur are set to bring a psychedelic rainbow of sound to Roadburn.
With a new album on the way, Habitants will make their Roadburn debut this year.
Den Haag’s Heath promise “odd time signatures, blazing harmonica and hypnotic guitars” and more!
HIDE will bring their uncompromising live performance to Roadburn for the first time.
Fresh from the success of her latest release, Acts of Light, Hilary Woods will perform at Roadburn 2024.
Bringing a heady blend of industrial noise, hip hop to Roadburn is King Yosef.
Lord Spikeheart will make his Roadburn debut as a solo artist, performing music from his brand new album.
Lucy Kruger & The Lost Boys have been highly praised for their live show which will make its way to Roadburn this April.
Tilburg’s own Mirusi Mergina will present an experimental mix of whispers and soundscapes.
Neptunian Maximalism will present their ambitious and expansive new album Le Sacre Du Soleil Invaincu.
Having previously performed at Roadburn with his band, Tau and the Drones of Praise, Seán Mulrooney will return for a solo performance.
The Infinity Ring will head to Europe for the first time and perform at Roadburn 2024.
Throwing Bricks seek to find joy in heaviness and combine elements of punk, black metal, screamo and sludge.
The Spark, Roadburn’s Wednesday night pre-festival party, was recently announced featuring performances from Final Gasp, Sonja, and Riot City.
The above artists join a line-up that includes The Jesus And Mary Chain, Khanate, Chelsea Wolfe, Lankum, Clipping., Blood Incantation, Health, Royal Thunder, Hexvessel, Dool, Inter Arma, Agriculture, Fluisteraars, and many, many more. More artists will be announced in the coming weeks. For all information including tickets, please visitwww.roadburn.com
Posted in Reviews on February 27th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
A word about the image above. ‘AI art’ has become a thing people argue about on the internet. Like everything. Fine. I made the above image with a prompt through whatever Microsoft is calling its bot this week and got what I wanted. I didn’t have to talk to anyone or pay anyone in anything more than the personal data you compromise every time you use the internet for anything, and it was done. I could never draw, but when I finished, I felt like I’d at least taken part in some way in making this thing. And telling a computer what to make and seeing what it gets right and wrong is fascinating. You might feel a bit like you’re painting with words, which as someone who could never draw but could construct a sentence, I can appreciate.
I’m a big supporter of human creativity, and yes, corporations who already hold creative professionals — writers, editors, graphic designers, etc. — in such outward contempt will be only too happy to replace them with robots. I was there when magazines died; I know how that goes. But instead of being reactionaries and calling for never-gonna-happen-anyway bans, isn’t it maybe worth acknowledging that there’s no going back in time, that AI art isn’t going anywhere, and that it might just have valid creative uses? I don’t feel like I need to defend myself for making or using the image above, but I did try to get a human artist first and it didn’t work out. In the hard reality of limited minutes, how much should I really chase when there’s an easier way to get what I want? And how much can people be expected to live up to that shifting moral obligation in the long term?
The future will laugh at us, inevitably, either way. And fair enough with the world we’re leaving them.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
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Lord Dying, Clandestine Transcendence
While bearing the tonal force of their roots in doom, Portland’s Lord Dying have nonetheless willfully become a crucial purveyor of forward-thinking death metal, driven by extremity but refusing to subdue its own impulses to fit with genre. At 12 songs and an hour’s runtime, Clandestine Transcendence neither is nor is supposed to be a minor undertaking, but with a melodic declaration in “Unto Becoming” that’ll elicit knowing nods from Virus fans and a mentality of creative reach that’s worthy of comparison to Enslaved, Lord Dying showcase mastery of the style the four-piece of guitarist/vocalist Erik Olson, guitarist Chris Evans, bassist/vocalist Alyssa Maucere and drummer Kevin Swartz explored with vigilance on 2019’s Mysterium Tremendum (review here), and an ability to depart from aggression without losing their intensity or impact on “Dancing on the Emptiness” or in the payoff of “Break in the Clouds (In the Darkness of Our Minds).” They may be headed toward too-weird-for-everybody megaprogmetal ultimately, but the challenges-to-stylistic-homogeny of their material are only part of what gives Clandestine Transcendence its crux, and in fostering the call-and-response onslaught of “Facing the Incomprehensible” alongside the epic reach of “A Bond Broken by Death,” they cast their own mold as unique within or without of the heavy underground sphere.
The late-2023 self-titled debut from Black Glow marks a new beginning for Monterrey, Mexico, guitarist, vocalist and songwriter Gina Rios, formerly of Spacegoat, and something of a creative redirect, taking on a sound that is less indebted to boogie and classic doom but that has clearly learned the lessons of its influences. Also credited with producing (Victor “KB” Velazquez recorded, mixed and mastered, which doesn’t invalidate the credit), Rios is a strong enough performer to carry the five-song EP/short-LP on her own, but thankfully bassist Oscar Saucedo and drummer Octavio Diliegros bring tonal fullness to the breadth of atmosphere in the rolling closer “Obscured Jail,” reaching past seven minutes with fluidity that adds to Black Glow‘s aspects of purpose and craft, which are significant despite being the band’s first outing. As a vehicle for Rios‘ songwriting, Black Glow sound immediately like they can evolve in ways Spacegoat likely couldn’t or wouldn’t have, and that prospect is all the more enticing with the accomplishments displayed here.
Between the leadoff of “Into the Chronosphere” and “The Glowing Sea,” “Return to Antares,” “Burning Mountain” and “Desert Haze,” UK instrumentalists Cracked Machine aren’t short on destinations for the journey that is their fourth full-length, Wormwood, but with more angular texturing on “Eigenstate” and the blend of tonal float — yes, even the bass — and terrestrial groove wrought in the closing title-track, the band manage to emphasize plot as well as a sense of freedom endemic to jam-born heavy psychedelia. That is to say, as second cut “Song of Artemis” gives brooding reply to the energetic “Into the Chronosphere,” which is loosely krautrocky in its dug-in feel and exploratory as part of that, they are not trying to pretend this material just happened. Layers of effects and a purposeful reach between its low and high ends in the solo of “The Glowing Sea” — with the drums holding the two together, as one would hope — and subsequent section of standalone guitar as the start of a linear build that spreads wide sonically rather than overpowering with volume speaks to a dynamic that’s about more than just loud or quiet, and the keyboard holding notes in the culmination of “Burning Mountain” is nothing if not purposeful in its shimmering resonance. They may be headed all over the place, but I think that’s just a sign Cracked Machine know how to get there.
Currently also of Kamchatka and Spiritual Beggars and maybe Switchblade, the career arc of Per Wiberg (also ex-Opeth, live work and/or studio contributions for Candlemass, Grand Magus, Arch Enemy, mostly on keys or organ) varies widely in style within a heavy sphere, and it should be no surprise that his solo work is likewise multifaceted. Following on from 2021’s EP, All Is Well In the Land of the Living But for the Rest of Us… Lights Out (review here), the six-song and 41-minute (seven/47 with the bonus track Warrior Soul cover “The Losers”) finds cohesion in a thread of progressive styles that allows Wiberg to explore what might be a Gary Numan influence in the verses of “The Serpent’s Here” itself while emerging with a heavy, catchy and melodic chorus marked by a driving riff. The eight-minute “Blackguards Stand Silent” works in movements across a structural departure as the rhythm section of Mikael Tuominen (Kungens Män) and drummer Tor Sjödén (Viagra Boys) get a subtle workout, and “He Just Disappeared” pushes into the cinematic on a patient line of drone, a contemplative departure after the melancholic piano of “This House is Someone Else’s Now” that allows “Follow the Unknown” to cap the album-proper with a return to the full-band feel and a pointed grace of keys and synth, clearly working to its creator’s own high standard.
Bremen, Germany’s Swell O released their apparently-recorded-in-a-day debut album, Morning Haze, in Feb. 2023 and followed with a vinyl release this past Fall on Clostridium Records, and if there’s anything clouding their vision as regards songwriting, it didn’t make it onto the record. Proffering solid, engaging, festival-ready desert-style heavy rock, “Hitchhiker” sweeps down the open highway of its own riff while “Black Cat” tips hat to Fu Manchu, the title-track veers into pop-punkish uptempoism in a way “Shine Through” contrasts with less shove and more ambience. The seven-minute “Summit” extrapolates a lean toward the psychedelic from Kyussian foundations, but the crux on Morning Haze is straightforward and aware of where it wants its songs to be aesthetically. It’s not a revolution in that regard, but it’s not supposed to be, and for all its in-genre loyalism, Morning Haze demonstrates an emergent persona in the modernized ’90s fuzz-crunch semi-blowout of “Venom” at the end, which wraps a salvo that started with “Hitchhiker” and lets Swell O make the most of their over-quickly 31-minute first LP.
Accounting for everything from goth to post-hardcore to the churn of Godflesh in an encompassing interpretation of post-punk, London outfit Cower could fill this space with pedigree alone and manage to nonetheless make a distinct impression across the nine songs of Celestial Devastation. Organic and sad on “We Need to Have the Talk,” inorganic and sad on “Hard-Coded in the Souls of Men,” electronic anti-chic before the guitar surge in “Buffeted by Solar Winds,” and bringing fresh perspective to Kataonia-style depressive metal in “Aging Stallions,” it’s a album that willfully shirks genre — a few of them, actually — in service to its songs, as between the software-driven title-track and the downer-New-Wave-as-doom centerpiece “Deathless and Free,” Cower embark on an apparent critique of tech as integrated into current life (though I can’t find a lyric sheet) and approach from seemingly divergent angles without losing track of the larger picture of the LP’s atmosphere. Celestial Devastation is the second album from the trio, comprised of Tom Lacey, Wayne Adams (who also produced, as he will) and Gareth Thomas. Expect them to continue to define and refine this style as they move forward, and expect it to become even more their own than it is here. A band like this, if they last, almost can’t help but grow.
Boston’s HORSEN3CK, who’ve gone all-caps and traded their second ‘e’ for a ‘3’ since unveiling the included-here “Something’s Broken” as a debut standalone single this January, make a rousing four-song statement of intent even as the lineup shifts from piece to piece around the core duo of Tim Catz and Jeremy Hemond, best known together for their work as the rhythm section of Roadsaw. With their maybe-not-right-now bandmate Ian Ross adding guitar to “Something’s Broken” and a different lead vocalist on each song, Heavy Spells has inherent variety even before “Haunted Heart” exalts its darker mood with pulls reminiscent of Alice in Chains‘ “Frogs.” With Catz taking a turn on vocals, “Golden Ghost” is punk under its surface class, and though “Haunted Heart” grows in its crescendo, its greater impact is in the vibe, which is richer for the shift in approach. “Thirst” rounds out with a particular brashness, but nowhere HORSEN3CK go feels even vaguely out of their reach. Alright guys. Concept proved, now go do a full-length. When they do, I’ll be intrigued to see if the lineup solidifies.
New Jersey doom rockers Troll Teeth‘s stated goal with Sluagh Vol. 1 was to find a sound the character of which would be defined in part by its rawer, retro-styled recording. The resultant four-song outing, which was their second EP of 2023 behind Underground Vol. 1, doesn’t actually veer into vintage-style ’70s worship, but lives up to the premise just the same in its abiding rawness. “3 Shots for a 6 Shooter” brings a Queens of the Stone Age-style vocal melody over an instrumental that’s meaner than anything that band ever put to tape, while nine-minute opener “1,000 Ton Brick” feels very clearly titled in honor of its own roll. It might be the heaviest stretch on the EP but for the rumbling low distortion spliced in among the psychedelic unfolding of 16-minute closer “Purgatory,” which submerges the listener in its course after “Here Lies” seems to build and build and build through the entirety of its still-hooky execution. With its title referencing the original name of the band and a focus on older material, the rougher presentation suits the songs, though it’s not like there’s a pristine “1,000 Ton Brick” out there to compare it to. Whether there will be at Sluagh Vol. 2 at any point, I don’t know, but even the intentionality of realizing his material in the recording process argues in favor of future revisits.
Celebrating their own dark side in the opener “Wicked Voice,” German heavy rockers Black Ocean’s Edge keep the proceedings relatively friendly on Call of the Sirens, their debut long-player behind 2022’s Dive Deep EP, at least as regards accessibility and the catchiness of their craft. Vibrant and consistent in tone, the Ulm four-piece find room for the classic rock of “Leather ‘n’ Velvet” and the that-might-be-actual-flute-laced prog-psych payoff of “Lion in a Cage” between the second two of the three parts that comprise the title-track, which departs from the heavy blues rock of “Drift” or “Cold Black Water,” which is the centerpiece and longest inclusion at 7:43 and sets its classic-heavy influences to work with a forward-looking perspective. At 42 minutes and nine tracks, Call of the Sirens feels professional in how it reaches out to its audience, and it leaves little to doubt from Black Ocean’s Edge as regards songwriting, production or style. They may refine and sharpen their approach over time, and with these songs as where they’re coming from, they’ll be in that much better position to hit the ears of the converted.
Note: this album is out in April and I couldn’t find cover art. Band photo above is by Matija Kasalo.
If an album could ask you, musically, why you’re in such a hurry — and not like hurrying to work, really in a hurry, like in how you live — the mellow psych and acid folk proffered by Adelaide, Australia’s SONS OF ZÖKU on their second full-length, ËNDLËSS, might just be doing that. Don’t take that to mean the album is still or staid though, because they’re not through “Moonlight” after the intro before the bass gets funky behind all that serene melody, and when you’re worshiping the sun that’s all the more reason to dance by the moon. Harmonies resonate in “Earth Chant” (and all around) atop initially quiet guitar noodling, and the adventures in arrangement continue in the various chimes and percussion instruments, the touch of Easternism in “Kuhnoo” and the keyboard-fueled melodic payoff to the pastoralism of “Hunters.” With flute and a rhythmic delivery to its group vocal, “O Saber” borders on the tribal, while “Yumi” digs on cosmic prog insistence in a way that calls to mind the underappreciated Death Hawks and finds its way in a concluding instrumental stretch that doesn’t lose its spontaneous feel despite being more cogent than improv generally comes across. “Lonesome Tale” is a melancholy-vibe-reprise centered around acoustic guitar and “Nu Poeme” gives a sense of grandeur that is unto itself without going much past four minutes in the doing. Such triumphs are rare more broadly but become almost commonplace as SONS OF ZÖKU set their own context with a sound harnessing the inspiration of decades directing itself toward an optimistic future.
to the seeming complement of blastbeats in the mythologically-on-theme finale “Rolling Boulder,” Failure in Repetition functions as a multifaceted entirety, leaning to one side or the other at a given moment and actually resting too long in one place, however many walls of tone or noise — looking at you, intro to “This is the Water” — they may build and tear down throughout, Mullenax, guitarist Evan Courtland, bassist Bryan Webb and drummer James Ivy maintain a harsh, unsettled atmosphere with a focus highlighted in “Repetition I,” “Repetition II” and “Repetition III” but is consistent in even the rawest moments of scathe, whether that’s the what’s-the-use-of-anything nod beneath the solo in “This is the Water” or the instrumental “Lulu’s Interlude” that follows it, not quite giving the listener a break from the onslaught, but perhaps gathering itself for the next violent phase in the second half of the tracklisting.
