Posted in Whathaveyou on February 26th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
The microgenre of ultra-thick sludge worship now called ‘bong metal’ has emerged largely in the six years since Chicago instrumental crushers Bongripper issued their most recent LP, 2018’s Terminal (review here), so a return from them with the impending Empty has some contextual differentiation in this not-yet-half-over decade, but beyond that, one kind of expects and looks forward to not much radical change on the part of the band, whose crushing ethic has united their output all along. I’m not saying they can’t grow or shouldn’t, haven’t, etc. (I haven’t even heard the thing), but if they were suddenly going to go ska they probably would mention it at some point and if it’s business as usual as they lower killer riffs with prejudice upon the skulls of the willing, would that really be a thing to complain about? Whatever new ideas they may or may not bring to their new material, it’s not like their core approach was ever broken.
Are Bongripper bong metal? Are Bongzilla? Are you? It would be in celebration of their uncompromising fuckall if they came to be viewed as figureheads, but ultimately it’s academic as relates to the record itself — something dudes like me think about likely much more than the band actually does, and fair enough — which will be out April 18 with a hometown release show booked for May 3 ahead of a lot at Desertfest London.
Preliminaries are below — read the tracklisting as a sentence and you almost get a sense of hope — and were offered with a suitable amount of flourish via socials. Behold:
BONGRIPPER – “Empty” 2LP/CD/Digital – 4/19/24
1. Nothing 2. Remains 3. Forever 4. Empty
Recorded at Comatose Studio. Artwork by Sam Alcarez.
Posted in Reviews on February 26th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Admittedly, there’s some ambition in my mind calling this the ‘Spring 2024 Quarterly Review.’ I’m done with winter and March starts on Friday, so yeah, it’s kind of a reach as regards the traditional seasonal patterns of Northern New Jersey where I live, but hell, these things actually get decided here by pissing off a rodent. Maybe it doesn’t need to be so rigidly defined after all.
After doing QRs for I guess about nine years now, I finally made myself a template for the back-end layout. It’s not a huge leap, but will mean about five more minutes I can dedicate to listening, and when you’re trying to touch on 50 records in the span of a work week and attempt some semblance of representing what they’re about, five minutes can help. Still, it’s a new thing, and if you see ‘ARTIST’ listed where a band’s name should be or LINK where ‘So and So on Facebook’ goes, a friendly comment letting me know would be helpful.
Thanks in advance and I hope you find something in all of this to come that speaks to you. I’ll try to come up for air at some point.
Quarterly Review #1-10:
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Slift, Ilion
One of the few non-billionaire groups of people who might be able to say they had a good year in 2020, Toulouse, France, spaceblasters Slift signed to Sub Pop on the strength of that wretched year’s Ummon (review here) and the spectacle-laced live shows with which they present their material. Their ideology is cosmic, their delivery markedly epic, and Ilion pushes the blinding light and the rhythmic force directly at you, creating a sweeping momentum contrasted by ambient stretches like that tucked at the end of 12-minute hypnotic planetmaker “The Words That Have Never Been Heard,” the drone finale “Enter the Loop” or any number of spots between along the record’s repetition-churning, willfully-overblown 79-minute course of builds and surging payoffs. A cynic might tell you it’s not anything Hawkwind didn’t do in 1974 offered with modern effects and beefier tones, but, uh, is that really something to complain about? The hype around Ilion hasn’t been as fervent as was for Ummon — it’s a different moment — but Slift have set themselves on a progressive course and in the years to come, this may indeed become their most influential work. For that alone it’s among 2024’s most essential heavy albums, never mind the actual journey of listening. Bands like this don’t happen every day.
The only thing keeping Grin from being punk rock is the fact that they don’t play punk. Otherwise, the self-recording, self-releasing (on The Lasting Dose Records) Berlin metal-sludge slingers tick no shortage of boxes as regards ethic, commitment to an uncompromised vision of their sound, and on Hush, their fourth long-player which features tracks from 2023’s Black Nothingness (review here), they sharpen their attack to a point that reminds of dug-in Swedish death metal on “Pyramid” with a winding lead line threaded across, find post-metallic ambience in “Neon Skies,” steamroll with the groove of the penultimate “The Tempest of Time,” and manage to make even the crushing “Midnight Blue Sorrow” — which arrives after the powerful opening statement of “Hush” “Calice” and “Gatekeeper” — have a sense of creative reach. With Sabine Oberg on bass and Jan Oberg handling drums, guitar, vocals, noise and production, they’ve become flexible enough in their craft to harness raw charge or atmospheric sprawl at will, and through 16 songs and 40 minutes (“Portal” is the longest track at 3:45), their intensity is multifaceted, multi-angular, and downright ripping. Aggression suits this project, but that’s never all that’s happening in Grin, and they’re stronger for that.
A debut solo-band outing from guitarist, bassist, vocalist and songwriter Dave Cotton, also of Seven Nines and Tens, Pontiac‘s Hard Knox lands on strictly limited tape through Coup Sur Coup Records and is only 16 minutes long, but that’s time enough for its six songs to find connections in harmony to Beach Boys and The Beatles while sometimes dropping to a singular, semi-spoken verse in opener/longest track (immediate points, even though four minutes isn’t that long) “Glory Ragged,” which moves in one direction, stops, reorients, and shifts between genres with pastoralism and purpose. Cotton handles six-string and 12-string, but isn’t alone in Pontiac, as his Seven Nines and Tens bandmate Drew Thomas Christie handles drums, Adam Vee adds guitar, drums, a Coke bottle and a Brita filter, and CJ Wallis contributes piano to the drifty textures of “Road High” before “Exotic Tattoos of the Millennias” answers the pre-christofascism country influence shown on “Counterculture Millionaire” with an oldies swing ramble-rolling to a catchy finish. For fun I’ll dare a wild guess that Cotton‘s dad played that stuff when he was a kid, as it feels learned through osmosis, but I have no confirmation of that. It is its own kind of interpretation of progressive music, and as the beginning of a new exploration, Cotton opens doors to a swath of styles that cross genres in ways few are able to do and remain so coherent. Quick listen, and it dares you to keep up with its changes and patterns, but among its principal accomplishments is to make itself organic in scope, with Cotton cast as the weirdo mastermind in the center. They’ll reportedly play live, so heads up.
Already fluid as they open with the rocker “Into the Space,” exclamatory Chilean five-piece The Polvos! delve into more psychedelic reaches in “Fire Dance” and the jammy and (appropriately) floaty midsection of “Going Down,” the centerpiece of their 35-minute sophomore LP, Floating. That song bursts to life a short time later and isn’t quite as immediate as the charge of “Into the Space,” but serves as a landmark just the same as “Acid Waterfall” and “The Anubis Death” hold their tension in the drums and let the guitars go adventuring as they will. There’s maybe some aspect of Earthless influence happening, but The Polvos! meld that make-it-bigger mentality with traditional verse/chorus structures and are more grounded for it even as the spaces created in the songs give listeners an opportunity for immersion. It may not be a revolution in terms of style, but there is a conversation happening here with modern heavy psych from Europe as well that adds intrigue, and the band never go so far into their own ether so as to actually disappear. Even after the shreddy finish of “The Anubis Death,” it kind of feels like they might come back out for an encore, and you know, that’d be just fine.
The Cosmic Gospel, Cosmic Songs for Reptiles in Love
With a current of buzz-fuzz drawn across its eight component tracks that allow seemingly disparate moves like the Blondie disco keys in “Hot Car Song” to emerge from the acoustic “Core Memory Unlocked” before giving over to the weirdo Casio-beat bounce of “Psychrolutes Marcidus Man,” a kind of ’60s character reimagined as heavy bedroom indie, The Cosmic Gospel‘s Cosmic Songs for Reptiles in Love isn’t without its resentments, but the almost-entirely-solo-project of Mercata, Italy-based multi-instrumentalist Gabriel Medina is more defined by its sweetness of melody and gentle delivery on the whole. An experiment like the penultimate “Wrath and Gods” carries some “Revolution 9” feel, but Medina does well earlier to set a broad context amid the hook of opener “It’s Forever Midnight” and the subsequent, lightly dub beat and keyboard focus on “The Richest Guy on the Planet is My Best Friend,” such that when closer “I Sew Your Eyes So You Don’t See How I Eat Your Heart” pairs the malevolent intent of its title with light fuzzy soloing atop an easy flowing, summery flow, the album has come to make its own kind of sense and define its path. This is exactly what one would most hope for it, and as reptiles are cold-blooded, they should be used to shifts in temperature like those presented throughout. Most humans won’t get it, but you’ve never been ‘most humans,’ have you?
Massachusetts garage doomers Grave Speaker‘s self-titled debut was issued digitally by the band this past Fall and was snagged by Electric Valley Records for a vinyl release. The Mellotron melancholia that pervades the midsection of the eponymous “Grave Speaker” justifies the wax, but the cult-leaning-in-sound-if-not-theme outfit that marks a new beginning for ex-High n’ Heavy guitarist John Steele unfurl a righteously dirty fuzz over the march of “Blood of Old” at the outset and then immediately up themselves in the riffy stoner delve of “Earth and Mud.” The blown-out vocals on the latter, as well as the far-off-mic rawness of “The Bard’s Theme” that surrounds its Hendrixian solo, remind of a time when Ice Dragon roamed New England’s troubled woods, and if Grave Speaker will look to take on a similar trajectory of scope, they do more than drop hints of psychedelia here, in “Grave Speaker” and elsewhere, but they’re no more beholden to that than the Sabbathism of capper “Make Me Crawl” or the cavernous echo of “Earthbound.” It’s an initial collection, so one expects they’ll range some either way with time, but the way the production becomes part of the character of the songs speaks to a strong idea of aesthetic coming through, and the songwriting holds up to that.
While at the same time proffering his most expansive vision yet of a progressive psychedelia weighted in tone, emotionally expressive and able to move its focus fluidly between its layers of keyboard, synth and guitar such that the mix feels all the more dynamic and the material all the more alive (there’s an entire sub-plot here about the growth in self-production; a discussion for another time), Surya Kris Peters‘ 10-song/46-minute There’s Light in the Distance also brings the former Samsara Blues Experiment guitarist/vocalist closer to uniting his current projects than he’s yet been, the distant light here blurring the line where Surya Kris Peters ends and the emergently-rocking Fuzz Sagrado begins. This process has been going on for the last few years following the end of his former outfit and a relocation from Germany to Brazil, but in its spacious second half as well as the push of its first, a song like “Mode Azul” feels like there’s nothing stopping it from being played on stage beyond personnel. Coinciding with that are arrangement details like the piano at the start of “Life is Just a Dream” or the synth that gives so much movement under the echoing lead in “Let’s Wait Out the Storm,” as Peters seems to find new avenues even as he works his way home to his own vision of what heavy rock can be.
Unilateralis is the four-song follow-up EP to Polish heavydelvers Gozd‘s late-2023 debut album, This is Not the End, and its 20-plus minutes find a place for themselves in a doom that feels both traditional and forward thinking across eight-minute opener and longest track (immediate points, even for an EP) “Somewhere in Between” before the charge of “Rotten Humanity” answers with brasher thrust and aggressive-undercurrent stoner rock with an airy post-metallic break in the middle and rolling ending. From there, “Thanatophobia” picks up the energy from its ambient intro and explodes into its for-the-converted nod, setting up a linear build after its initial verses and seeing it through with due diligence in noise, and closer “Tentative Minds” purposefully hypnotizes with its vague-speech in the intro and casual bassline and drum swing before the riff kicks in for the finale. The largesse of its loudest moments bolster the overarching atmosphere no less than the softest standalone guitar parts, and Gozd seem wholly comfortable in the spaces between microgenres. A niche among niches, but that’s also how individuality happens, and it’s happening here.
You wouldn’t accuse Austria’s Sativa Root of thematic subtlety on their third album, Kings of the Weed Age, which broadcasts a stoner worship in offerings like “Megalobong” and “Weedotaur” and probably whatever “F.A.T.” stands for, but that’s not what they’re going for anyway. With its titular intro starting off, spoken voices vague in the ambience, “Weedotaur”‘s 11 minutes lumber with all due bong-metallian slog, and the crush becomes central to the proceedings if not necessarily unipolar in terms of the band’s approach. That is to say, amid the onslaught of volume and tonal density in “Green Smegma” and the spin-your-head soloing in “Assassins Weed” (think Assassins Creed), the instrumentalist course undertaken may be willfully monolithic, but they’re not playing the same song five times on six tracks and calling it new. “F.A.T.” begins on a quiet stretch of guitar that recalls some of YOB‘s epics, complementing both the intro and “Weedotaur,” before bringing its full weight down on the listener again as if to underscore the message of its stoned instrumental catharsis on its way out the door. They sound like they could do this all day. It can be overwhelming at times, but that’s not really a complaint.
Comprised of guitarist/vocalist Mateusz, bassist Michał and drummer Tomek, Polish riffcrafters Volt Ritual are appealingly light on pretense as they offer Return to Jupiter‘s four tracks, and though as a Star Trek fan I can’t get behind their lyrical impugning of Starfleet as they imagine what Earth colonialism would look like to a somehow-populated Jupiter, they’re not short on reasons to be cynical, if in fact that’s what’s happening in the song. “Ghostpolis” follows the sample-laced instrumental opener “Heavy Metal is Good for You” and rolls loose but accessible even in its later shouts before the more uptempo “Gwiazdolot” swaps English lyrics for Polish (casting off another cultural colonialization, arguably) and providing a break ahead of the closing title-track, which is longer at 7:37 and a clear focal point for more than just bearing the name of the EP, summarizing as it does the course of the cuts before it and even bringing a last scream as if to say “Ghostpolis” wasn’t a fluke. Their 2022 debut album began with “Approaching Jupiter,” and this Return feels organically built off that while trying some new ideas in its effects and general structure. One hopes the plot continues in some way next time along this course.
Posted in Bootleg Theater on February 23rd, 2024 by JJ Koczan
The quintessential third record. With the July 1971 release of Master of Reality (also discussed here), Black Sabbath further refined the dark, brooding aggression of Paranoid (discussed here) and the riff-following bad-trip hard acid blues of the self-titled (discussed here) to become something even more their own. More than five decades after the fact, the influence of the eight-song/34-minute LP continues to spread to new players, fans and underground culture at large, and it will probably never surpass Paranoid in sales, but there has been nothing made in the last 40-plus years that doom has been a genre primarily in Master of Reality‘s wake that has not been either directly or indirectly touched by its machinations. If you add pivotal opening track “Sweet Leaf” — which swapped out the storm and siren that began their first two records for a repeated cough counting into the riff in a way that’s become no less iconic, and was by no means the first rock song about marijuana but was perhaps the first to sound so hypnotically thick in tone — as a founding moment of all things stoner in heavy music, that reach goes even further.
It was their third go with producer Rodger Bain, who was then on-staff at Vertigo Records and would produce records for Troggs, Budgie, Arthur Brown and helm Judas Priest‘s undervalued Rocka Rolla before the 1970s were done, and clearly lessons had been learned over the past year. Black Sabbath both sharpened and filled out their attack to a degree that makes it difficult to avoid hyperbole in talking about it. Like either of its predecessors, it is arguable as the pinnacle of heavy music full-length recording in the 60-plus years that such a thing might have existed, and whether it’s “Lord of This World” speaking to economic and social inequalities, “Children of the Grave” chugging out a resistant surge, “After Forever” with its worshipful lyrics by drummer Bill Ward inadvertently inventing Christian metal, or the the soft-delivered quiet melancholia of “Solitude” before the escape-the-apocalypse envisioned in “Into the Void” — “Pollution kills the air, land and sea/Man prepares to meet his destiny” — as a wretched Earth is left behind in favor of a new planet where refugees might, “Make a home where love is there to stay/Peace and happiness in every day,” it is a landmark in performance, structure, atmosphere and purpose. Even the cover font gets ripped off. Rightly so.
At the core of the band’s craft, as ever, is Tony Iommi‘s guitar, and in Master of Reality, the boogie of “Rat Salad” that provided a side-step from Paranoid‘s harder fare becomes instead a showcase of more progressive ambitions that in some ways Iommi would struggle to make a part of Black Sabbath for the band’s entire career — and one could go on about the band’s working class background in Birmingham, England, as part of that; it comes up a bit in the 2010 Classic Albums: Paranoid documentary (review here) that was part of the VH1 series — with a showy mastery in his soloing throughout, as well as the interlude “Embryo” and side B intro “Orchid.”
At just 28 seconds and 1:31, respectively, they’re of course not as much a focal point as “Sweet Leaf” or “Into the Void,” etc., but the angular, off-sounding electric guitar strum of “Embryo” makes what might’ve been a tape-rolling toss-off into a landmark contrast as the brief gestation births “Children of the Grave” with an impact given additional force by the tense but obviously more subdued lead-in. And “Orchid” laid claim to both acoustic work and classical stylings as within Black Sabbath‘s sphere. From front to back, Master of Reality presents a more professional incarnation of Black Sabbath — still with the Iommi, Ward, Ozzy Osbourne, Geezer Butler lineup and just a year after their first LP, mind you — who are more directed and purposefully denser in tone, who know what they want their songs to do and to sound like, and who are growing creatively.
The four-piece had toured diligently between 1970 and 1971 in the UK, continental Europe, and the US, taken on new management later in 1970 and as the tour wound down, both Paranoid and Black Sabbath went gold in US sales, so Black Sabbath were no longer an obscure, not-from-London band with druggy, sad-sounding songs. Their music had begun to speak to an audience, and as the third album, Master of Reality is a realization and an arrival in ways that would help define the band across the decades that followed. In its divergences as well as its most intense stretches, it pushed further than the band had yet gone into their persona, and to call it classic is in some ways laughable because its relevance is so enduring. Every single day, Master of Reality continues to have an effect on heavy music. Entire genre ecosystems thrive in the crater it left behind.
The way “Children of the Grave” and “Into the Void” anchor its sides, the way “Solitude” took the mellow-psych of “Planet Caravan” to a place of genuine emotional resonance, or how “Lord of This World” hit the economic angle in answer to “War Pigs,” or the maybe-drugs-are-the-answer-to-all-this-disillusion attitude of “Sweet Leaf” and the confidence with which Master of Reality directly addresses its audience throughout — all of this and more that had been lurking in Black Sabbath‘s approach across the year prior came to fruition here, and the result is a singular, unique achievement.
I don’t believe in gods, but Master of Reality in my mind represents an ideal of the ‘higher power’ that can be reached through creative collaboration. I offer it as nothing less than a reason to feel lucky to be alive at this time in human history and a remedy for troubled souls. Putting it on feels like going home, and while much of it is grim in theme, there is a warmth in its presentation that’s like nothing Black Sabbath would ever do again. If that’s hindsight perspective, informed maybe by the massive influence the album and band have had since, a fan speaking to fans, preaching to the converted, whatever? Good. That’s the point. If perhaps you never have, open your heart and let these songs in. Your life will be better for it.
Thanks for reading.
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Friday. Okay. Gotta get through the morning. Gotta get the kid fed, medded up, dropped off at school, then I’m home, finish posting, start setup for the Quarterly Review, hit the grocery store, blah blah. I woke up at 3:15AM. I figure maybe noon’ll be fuckoff time if I’m reasonably efficient? Very much looking forward to that.
She — the kid — has been on methylphenidate now for ADHD since December. It’s been a pretty remarkable turnaround at school from everything we’ve heard, which is great. The comedown at home is hard — it’s a whole thing with these drugs, apparently — but I’ll take the hit(s) for her to be successful elsewhere. I don’t think she’ll ever be an easygoing, cooperative kid, but I’m not easygoing or particularly cooperative either. Generally I’m a fucking prick to everybody without meaning to be and I feel terrible about it after the fact. So I’ll say she comes by it honestly and we’ll book some social skills classes at some point so she can learn why to say hello back to her classmates when they talk to her. That usually just gets the spit swished in her mouth. Kid is brutal.
The delivery method of the meds is kind of a quandary. She and The Patient Mrs. both have notably sensitive skin, and while slapping a patch on The Pecan’s lower back was working for a while, it’s been a week now and the itchy and plainly uncomfortable — though she’d just about never admit that out loud — is still there, which says to me finding another way was the right call. It’s fading, needs more lotion, etc. But what we’ve got instead are capsules with the medication in them that I’ve been opening up and putting in the morning yogurt that’s usually what she eats before a breakfast of cinnamon toast, apple, banana, strawberries if we have them. The dilemma is she doesn’t know I’m putting that in there.
Am I really supposed to be drugging my six-year-old daughter without her awareness? Does she not have rights as an individual? Isn’t it part of my job as a parent to build trust? How am I supposed to do that if I’m lying by concealment? The kid already tells me in so many words to fuck myself daily in any number of regards. I think I might deserve it more for this even than for suggesting she go to the bathroom when it’s been six hours and she needs to so badly she can’t sit still.
But here’s the rub: she might never eat yogurt again. She doesn’t eat meat, fish, beans, eggs, any of it. She eats cheese, but currently only Muenster and only sliced into small cubes. If I make some, every now and then I can get her to take a couple bites of almond/pecan butter, but that’s never a guarantee. Nutritionally, there’s a lot hinging on that yogurt. She is adamant about not trying new foods. Hard no. She did pasta for a while with butter, but it was basically just calories to get through an afternoon, and it didn’t last. And it turns out since it’s not the ’80s anymore you can’t just shove things in a kid’s mouth. It’s that whole autonomy thing again. Wildly inconvenient, that.
I don’t have a choice but to tell her. I’ll say we tried it this week and if it was okay with her we’ll keep going. My hope is that if I can convince her it’s a plan that’s already worked it’ll be easier for her to get past that initial wall of opposition into which just about any new idea or task is bound to slam, it’ll be easier for her to see that it’s alright, that it doesn’t make the yogurt taste funny, that it’s helping and that it doesn’t need to change. I’m trying to help, but I feel a very specific rot in my mind for this one. She deserves to know and deserve has nothing to actually do with it since it’s a basic human right.
How would I feel if some strange man put a drug in her food without her knowing it? How do I feel about being that man, even if my intentions are arguable as good and the results are positive across multiple levels? Ends justifying means? Am I right to compromise my values to support her success? Or am I teaching her that even the people she’s supposed to trust the most will betray that trust? Am I taking one for the team here or is it just easier for me to deal with getting the medication in her if she doesn’t know it’s happening? And does the fact that she’s six and not really able to make responsible judgments for herself at this point play in at all? Beyond the decision to medicate her in the first place — about which I have feelings, to say the least, mitigated though they are by the to-date outcome — is this even my jurisdiction?
So I guess telling her is my goal for Saturday morning. I’ll say we tried it this week and if it’s okay with her we’ll keep it going and if not we’ll find another way. But is she going to look at her yogurt every day now and wonder if it’s drugged? Or is she going to refuse the yogurt outright because that’s who she is, write it off entirely and lose a cornerstone of her daily intake with nothing on the horizon to replace it?
Guess we’ll find out.
As always, I thank you for reading and for your time. Have a great and safe weekend. Don’t forget to hydrate, watch your head, all that stuff. Quarterly Review starts Monday. I can’t wait to be stressed out all week and behind on news posts, which I already am. Rock and roll.
FRM.
[EDIT 10:37AM: So after writing the above, I decided there was no point in delaying until tomorrow to tell her; it wouldn’t make my case any stronger anyhow. I said that this week I’d been putting her medicine in her yogurt instead of doing the patch, and if it was okay we’d keep doing it. She was headed toward no, but we were able to sort of steer that back around to realizing it’s not a big deal and she ate the yogurt this morning knowing that the meds were in it. I feel better about it, and I’m really, really glad I don’t need a new primary source of protein for my kid. Sometimes you roll the dice and come out alright. I acknowledge I got away with one here, and for what it’s worth, I’m still not really okay with how I went about it. I’d say next time I’ll do differently, like I learned a moral lesson or something, but real life makes jokes of those promises and a moment’s need can eclipse bigger-picture concerns. I will continue to try my best to do right by my kid for as long as I am able.]
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 23rd, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Yeah, I’ll admit that at about 10:30AM on a Friday morning I had one foot out the door to the weekend. Then this new Sons of Arrakis single showed up and a four-post day became a fiver. Fair enough. The hotly-tipped Canadian heavy rockers offer “Scattering” as a first glimpse of the second album they recorded late last summer, Volume II, for which they’ve announced a June 7 release through Black Throne Productions. In addition to a general uptick in the production sounds on what I’m guessing is the version that will appear on the actual album, the band also have a live video up for the track that’s probably the best argument I could make for seeing them live if their upcoming Canadian run with Salem’s Bend (they’ll play all but three of the shows below, which it feels weird to list since they don’t involve the group this post is otherwise about, but they’re still part of the tour? I don’t know, life is complicated sometimes in unexpected ways), but I also sincerely doubt that for those who heard 2022’s Volume I (review here) much argument is needed in the first place.
I’m intrigued to hear where other songs on the record might go, but “Scattering” contradicts its title in being nothing if not tightly cohesive. Around a twisting riff and melody that build momentum as they go, the band deliver an uptempo shove that should please, among others, those who caught on to the charge Howling Giant‘s latest LP gave this past Fall.
Info, dates, video, audio, all from the PR wire:
SONS OF ARRAKIS Unveil “Scattering”
SONS OF ARRAKIS have released their new single “Scattering”. The track lands ahead of their forthcoming album Volume II due to be released on June 7th, 2024, via Black Throne Productions. Check out an exciting live video shot for the track HERE.
“SONS OF ARRAKIS introduces ‘Scattering,’ the inaugural single from our upcoming album, Volume II, slated for release on June 7th. Coinciding with ‘The Great Scattering Tour’ alongside LA’s SALEM’S BEND, this track signifies a culmination of years of dedicated effort and a significant evolution in our musical approach.
‘Scattering’ is a departure from the intricate compositions of Volume I, presenting a more straightforward yet captivating musical expression. Rooted in our sci-fi desert rock tradition, reminiscent of The Black Mirror, this single serves as a bridge to Volume II, where we venture into progressive territories with syncopated signature riffs, more complex bridges, well thought transitions and harmonized guitar elements.”
Presented by Black Throne Productions, SALEM’S BEND and SONS OF ARRAKIS are set to embark around the Eastern Provinces in Canada for “The Great Scattering Tour” beginning on February 28th, 2024.
Tour Dates: Feb 28 – Minotaure, Gatineau WITH SUBSUN, RITUAL and IN BETWEEN THE MASSES ** Feb 29 – Esco, Montreal with DESTRUCTION DERBY Mar 1 – L’Anti, QC City with TRUSH & DESTRUCTION DERBY Mar 2 – La Petite Boite Noire , Sherbrooke with OCCULT WITCHES Mar 3 – Cafe Zenob, Trois Rivieres with DESTRUCTION DERBY Mar 6 – The Atria, Oshawa with VEINDUZE and VS THE BORG ** Mar 7 – The Lion Pub & Grill, Newmarket with ON THE VERGE, AAWKS, DAD SABBATH ** Mar 8 – Vertagogo, Hamilton with THE ELECTRIC CACTUS Mar 9 – Bovine Sex Club, Toronto with TUMBLE and AAWKS ** – SONS OF ARRAKIS not playing
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 23rd, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Seattle sludge rockers Sorcia will hit the road in April to support their Desert Records-issued sophomore LP, Lost Season (review here), on a weekend-to-weekend stint around their appearance at Rocky Mountain Riff Fest in Kalispell, Montana, on April 20. Before they get there, of particular note is the Road to Riff Fest Showcase in Spokane on April 19, at which Sorcia will be joined by Mos Generator and Merlock, both also making their way to Kalispell the next day.
The regional run is certainly welcome news, and it follows a broader West Coast tour the trio undertook last summer around the time of Lost Season‘s July release. Still, Substation aside, it’s at least Sorcia‘s third escape from Seattle (cue a grunge-era Snake Plissken in the best movie the ’90s never made, and not a gritty reboot), and an occasion worth marking all the more with a revisit to the album, which you’ll find streaming below should you want to lose your head again in the lumber of “Entering the Eighth House,” which, yeah, you probably do.
Info from the PR wire:
Sorcia Spring Tour 2024
🚨TOUR ANNOUNCEMENT🚨
We are very excited to announce our Spring Tour 2024! We look forward to shaking walls around the NW with so many amazing bands as we make our trek to Rocky Mountain Riff Fest and back. More details to come, so mark your calendars and stay tuned!
4/18 – Ray’s Golden Lion | Richland, WA 4/19 – Road To Riff Fest Showcase | The District Bar | Spokane, WA 4/20 – Rocky Mountain Riff Fest | Eagles | Kalispell, MT 4/21 – Mikey’s Gyros | Moscow, ID 4/22 – Substation | Seattle, WA 4/26 – High Water Mark | Portland, OR 4/27 – McCoy’s Tavern | Olympia, WA
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 23rd, 2024 by JJ Koczan
The occasion bringing together Copper Feast Records in the UK and Sound Effect Records in Greece to collaborate for the first time is the April 5 release of Iron Blanket‘s debut full-length, Astral Wanderer. And fair enough for the charged heavy psychedelia thus far on display in the album’s three streaming tracks, the opening duo “Evil Mind” and “Mystic Goddess” portraying a style of grounded riffing that kicks-in-the-ass some of Uncle Acid‘s garage groove while vocalist Johann Ingemar reimagines Sabbath-era Ozzy reach through a delivery that you could just as easily say comes from folk as prog and which is likened in the release info to Mars Volta. So yes, vibrato.
A later but still side A cut, “Kookaburra Nightmare” is more relaxed in tempo and broader in its soundscaping, taking some of the dreamy impulses hinted at in “Evil Mind” and “Mystic Goddess” and shifting the balance between elements in the crafting. Much of the info below came from Copper Feast‘s Bandcamp, but some I took from the social media announcement as well and kind of repositioned it to make sense all as one thing. The bottom line remains the same: something new for you to dig if you can dig it, and here’s hoping.
Preorders start Feb. 23, which is apparently today because it’s no longer July 2005 for some silly reason.
Info:
Iron Blanket – Astral Wanderer – Sound Effect & Copper Feast Records
Blending 70’s inspired psychedelic grooviness with unmistakable driving stoner rock riffs and Mars Volta-esque vocals, Sydney’s Iron Blanket are a band like no other right now.
Their much heralded live show that has drawn them new fans at every venue they’ve played down under is now translated to their debut LP, Astral Wanderer.
Released through UK-based Copper Feast Records and legendary Athens’ label Sound Effect Records, Astral Wanderer is slated for full release on 5th April.
Says Copper Feast: “Please join me in welcoming one of Sydney’s worst kept secrets Iron Blanket to Copper Feast Records! We’ve got the pleasure to be co-releasing this unmissable slab of wax alongside legendary Athens-based label Sound Effect Records. We’ll be dropping presales this Friday, February 23rd, for the two limited edition variants.”
The inaugural co-release between these much loved labels will also bring two limited edition vinyl editions, one on classic black and the other on blood red vinyl. Numbers as follows:
Classic Black – 250 worldwide Blood Red – 150 worldwide
Tracklisting: 1. Evil Mind 2. Mystic Goddess 3. Witch’s Kiss 4. Kookaburra Nightmare 5. Astral Wanderer 6. Iron Blanket 7. Visions of the End 8. Tongue of Time
releases April 5, 2024
All songs written and performed by Iron Blanket Recorded and mixed by Phan Sharif at Parliament Studios Mastered by Darren Ziesing
Iron Blanket is: Mark Lonsdale – Guitar Nick Matthews – Drums Tom Withford – Guitar Charles Eggleston – Bass Johann Ingemar – Vocals
Posted in audiObelisk on February 23rd, 2024 by JJ Koczan
It doesn’t take long on Live @ Club Void Effenaar 23-3-23 before you’re in the room. You can hear voices in the crowd as Dutch instrumental improvisationalists DUNDDW begin to unfold their set, soon enough to be joined by Scott “Dr. Space” Heller (Øresund Space Collective, Doctors of Space, Black Moon Circle, solo work, etc.) expanding the trio as a four-piece with a guest spot on synth after about 12 minutes in, some comment and a chuckle as things mellow and space way, way out thereafter in the jam’s dreamier midsection, and so on.
The LP-length single-song set is out today as an independent release from DUNDDW, for whom it follows a 2023 split with Kombynat Robotron (review here) and their 2022 debut, Flux (review here), and the occasion that brought Heller from Portugal to the Netherlands was Black Moon Circle touring to support their 2023 LP, the expansive Leave the Ghost Behind (review here). Held weekly in the smaller room at the legendary Effenaar in Eindhoven (and no, it’s not just legendary because I saw Motorpsycho there one time, though that’d be enough in my head), ‘Club Void’ is a series of shows put together by the venue’s Robert Schaeffer as well as Paul van Berlo of the Into the Void Festival (also Loud Noise Booking) and Peter van Elderen, formerly the vocalist of Peter Pan Speedrock. All of these are endorsements that, existentially speaking, are good to have.
But DUNDDW have been pretty well encouraged since their outset bringing bassist Huibert der Weduwen and drummer Peter Dragt of Bismut together with Mt. Echo‘s Gerben Elburg on guitar for pointedly exploratory purposes, and the flow they conjure throughout Live @ Club Void Effenaar 23-3-23 presents a vivid picture of why for listeners who haven’t had the chance to actually see them. The cosmic adventure is mellow in spirit on the whole, but communal in a way that feels active, and inviting in tone and groove. Dropping nearly to silence at times, it represents well the conversation happening on stage as the sounds were being made, while allowing the audience and the LP-listener space to put themselves in the moment. In the initial build-up, DUNDDW work their way into a voluminous build, guitar signaling volume changes as they ooze past nine minutes, and when Dr. Space hops on board after (or maybe during) the ensuing wash a short time later, the proceedings get duly hyperspatial.
They drift and reorient, finding a new path with the four of them on the stage, and gradually the float becomes more driving, pushing into intense space rock before noising out behind the waves of Heller‘s synth with Dragt‘s crash and tom fills marking the end of that movement circa 26:30 and the beginning of the final cycle of ebbs and flows, more solidified in their purpose than they were only minutes before, but clearly having learned from the second part of the jam. Keep an ear out for bells, which you might just hear in that last stretch if they, it, or anything actually exists, and know that DUNDDW save their most fervent push for the crescendo, and that the experience of getting there is as much the point as the big finish and ringout itself.
Live @ Club Void Effenaar 23-3-23 isn’t intended to be some grand statement. At its heart, it’s a bootleg-style outing that captures one night among many DUNDDW went on stage and did what they do. This, coupled with the Heller collaboration that stands it out among other gigs, is the appeal. It would be ridiculous if DUNDDW did some hyper-produced live record. They might as well go to a studio and jam out an new LP if they’re going to spend the time and money. But here, they express the sense of journey from one end of this massive piece to the other, while also conveying their root ethic of commitment to organically capturing the creative moment as it happens. For that, Live @ Club Void Effenaar 23-3-23 offers resonance even beyond that of its echoing final tones.
Again, it’s out today, so by all means, dig in below and enjoy. Some PR wire-type info follows:
Friday, February 23rd, we (Dutch improv instrumental spacerock band DUNDDW) will digitally release a 40 minute jam we played last year at Club Void in The Netherlands. Around 17 minutes in Dr. Space – aka Scott Heller from Øresund Space Collective, Black Moon Circle a.o. – joins in on the jam.
Says DUNDDW: ” We really felt the flow during this jam. It builds up in three waves, with Dr. Space joining in about halfway through with some great synths, bells and spacy genius.”
Says Dr. Space: “I’ve been friends with the guys in Bismut, and DUNDDW invited me to jam with them and it was fun. Sure we will do it again. Great guys.”
DUNDDW is a 100% improvising, instrumental spacerock/krautrock trio from The Netherlands, with members from Bismut and Mt. Echo. Their first full length album Flux was released in November 2022. In June 2023 they released a split vinyl LP with German krautrock band Kombynat Robotron. February 2024 marks the release of a live jam they played in 2023, with Dr. Space joining in.
DUNDDW = Peter Dragt – Drums Huibert der Weduwen – Bass Gerben Elburg – Guitars
Posted in Questionnaire on February 22nd, 2024 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Bill Kielty of O Zorn!
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
When I first heard the band Electric Wizard in like 2001/2002, I thought wow, this sounds amazing. I want to do something like that. The band I was in at the time was kinda rock, kinda emo. Just kinda lame. I was sick to death of it. When that band broke up, I formed a band called Who Rides The Tiger, and started exploring the darker sound. Tuned down. Got heavy. That band disbanded in 2008 or so. A couple years later, I formed O ZORN! and went even heavier with it. Not sure I can define exactly what we’re doing at the moment, but I feel like we’re progressing.
Describe your first musical memory.
My family went to some folk festival at the University of Riverside in California. I was maybe 4 or 5 years old. My memory of it is super spotty, but the picture in my head has stuck with me my entire life. The venue was called “The Barn” and throughout all my twenties and early thirties, it was THE local venue for all things punk, metal and hardcore. Saw a shitload of bands roll through there and took the stage myself a bunch. It’s still there. Place went soft years ago. Mostly cover and tribute bands these days.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
The Ramones and Murphys Law at the Palladium in 1989. It was the Pet Cemetery tour. I was really young. My best friend’s older brother drove us to Hollywood, which was a first. It was the loudest thing I’d ever heard. The pit was the scariest thing I’d ever seen. My ears were ringing for three days after. It was fuckin awesome.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
For years, I firmly believed that I could control my drinking. Turns out, after years of trying, I cannot. I tried REALLY hard though.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
For me, artistic progression simply leads to and justifies me continuing to create.
How do you define success?
Seeing something through, no matter the task, as long as there’s some sense of accomplishment.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
Many years ago, I spotted Kerry King (Slayer) buying a scented candle in Things Remembered at The Galleria Mall in Riverside. I’ve never looked at him the same since.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
I’d like to start painting someday. Maybe a large oil painting. I feel like I’d be pretty good at it.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
I think there’s many functions but for me, Art allows my brain some escape from my daily bullshit. Temporarily of course. Most of us don’t have enough of it weaved into our lives.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to.
I’m looking forward to the day where the last of the boomers are out of office.
