Posted in Whathaveyou on August 26th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
I’m not sure I believe in ‘sacred ground’ in terms of some music being untouchable, but if I did, Rubber Soul would certainly qualify. Whatever folk influences The Beatles had internalized from their association with Bob Dylan and others of the day as they moved from their earlier mop-toppery and the British Invasion toward the pioneering, codified psychedelia-with-a-budget of 1966’s Revolver, Rubber Soul is for my money among the tightest pop-rock albums of all time. And you can argue against that, or tell me The Beatles are overrated. Fine. Whatever you think of their work, the impact they’ve had on all of rock and roll since speaks for itself and will not be denied. They’re the wall on which going-on six subsequent decades of rock have been scribbled. A collective Mozart, able to speak on a personal level to millions of people.
The original version of “Wait” appears toward the end of Rubber Soul — which on most days is my favorite Beatles record — immediately following “In My Life.” It is a pinpointed, two-minute-and-15-second Lennon/McCartney breakout that carries the lushness of the song prior in its vocal harmonies, but gives a kick of tempo leading into the album’s final movement, leading toward the culmination with the less-discussed-and-more-problematic-in-hindsight “Run for Your Life.” By then, the circa-half-hour LP has already made the journey through “Drive My Car,” “Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown),” “You Won’t See Me,” “Think for Yourself,” and so on, but Rubber Soul is a front-to-back listen, and side B holds up, with “Wait” recalling the straightforward, lifted-from-girl-group pop-soul of their first two full-lengths, but filtered through the burgeoning maturity in their craft and general expansion of their sound. In two years they’d do Sgt. Pepper. In five, they’d be done. Rubber Soul captures an amazing, transitional moment, and is beautiful besides.
I’m generally wary of Beatles covers not by Nina Simone, but Pennsylvania’s Almost Honest do well in making the source material their own. Their version of “Wait” restructures and expands on the original, rearranging for a heavy rock framework and putting emphasis on groove. Almost Honest had plenty of funk to share on last year’s The Hex of Penn’s Woods (review here), and there’s a bit of that here too, and the song is malleable to it. You’ll find the track at the bottom of the post, of course. PR wire follows here:
US Heavy Fuzz Rockers ALMOST HONEST Release Cover of The Beatles’ ‘Wait’
Pennsylvania-based groovy heavy rockers ALMOST HONEST have released a cover version of The Beatles’ ‘Wait’!
Band comments on the song: “We wanted to take our influences in Red Fang and Alice in Chains and bring them into this cover/reimagining. This is what we came up with. We kept the vocal harmonies relatively the same so it would give it the same feel. We reworked the riff to make it sludgy with a pinch of grunge. We also wanted to have a shredding solo at the end which was not in the original. We created a riff to go behind it. We wanted that riff to slowly fade to give the listener time to reflect.”
Posted in Reviews on August 26th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Lysekil, Sweden’s Mammoth Volume don’t necessarily have the element of surprise on their side as they did two years ago when they released their third album, The Cursed Who Perform the Larvagod Rites (discussed here), some 21 years after their second, 2001’s A Single Book of Songs, but neither do they seem to need it. A quick turnaround has done nothing to dull the individualist creative drive behind Raised Up by Witches. Comprised of nine tracks running a 45 minutes united mostly by an returning theme of fuzz and the vocal melodies from Jörgen Andersson, Daniel Gustafsson (guitar, bass, keys, flute, percussion) and Nicklas Andersson (drums, bass) — bassist Kalle Berlin is the only one without a voice credit — the album begins with “The Battle of Lightwedge” in building both volume and narrative in compact fashion to hit into a rolling, fuzzy payoff, keeping a distinctive sense of progressive quirk in the arrangements of keys and vocals.
This too is revealed as something of a thread as “Black Horse Beach” brings angular start-stop jangle-strums of guitar, but as with Dutch outfit Astrosoniq — who are something of an analogue for the heavier-shoving moments here. whether it’s the end of “The Battle of Lightwedge” or the aggro-ier chug offsetting the clearheaded alt-rock sway of “Scissor Bliss” — it’s mostly the performances and the weirdness itself carrying the listener from one side of the record to and through the other. That is to say, it all works as an album because the band made it that way. It’s not weird by happenstance. It’s supposed to be weird, written and/or built up to have more going on at any given moment than a single genre designation can hope to encapsulate, and uniform mostly in its striving against uniformity. It is distinctly, inevitably, Mammoth Volume.
And as a new generation of listeners gets introduced to the variable notion of just what that means, the definition itself is likewise expanding. Those who heard The Cursed Who Perform the Larvagod Rites will find Raised Up by Witches both more cohesive unto itself and more willing to toy with the tenets of genre, whether that’s the heavy stretches noted above in “Scissor Bliss” or the subsequent “Diablo III – Faces in the Water” providing one of the record’s central hooks while keeping the heavier momentum fluid. Desert rock, folkish harmonies, classic-style boogie, progressivism and heavy metal are all on the operating table, and while Mammoth Volume are precisely none of them on the whole, these genres and the Beatlesian melodicism of “Lisa” as it rambles with acoustic guitar sweetly pastoral chimes and percussion around a steady undercurrent of organ. A sample from the 1962 film David and Lisa feels far removed from the purposefully over-the-top Thin Lizzy-style solo of “Diablo III” — that song also seemingly a prequel to two tracks off the last album; time is a construct of the mind — but lends depth to the title, and opens to bouncing intertwined melodies.
It’s tongue-in-cheek, maybe, but still touches on pop gorgeousness as casually as most people eat breakfast, capping with another bit of dialogue for good measure. Pop comes and goes throughout Raised Up by Witches, and is ultimately one more tool the band uses to manifest their intentions in songwriting, but they’re no more bound to it than they are to traditional notions of what makes a given track heavy or whatever else. By the time they get to the transfigured yacht rock keyboard behind the initial vocals of the title-track, Mammoth Volume have well demonstrated that the chicanery is more than just for show. It’s not just that the band put together a bunch of verses and choruses and then decided to overdub a bunch of other stuff, or that they’re kitchen-sinking the arrangements — because they’re not — with elements that don’t fit and calling it experimental. These songs work. “Raised Up by Witches” works. It and they just work in a way that emphasizes how on their own wavelength Mammoth Volume are as relates to most if not all of underground heavy.
That’s fine. A band can do their own thing without being good too, though. Mammoth Volume avoid that trap through naturalism and by bringing their audience with them as “Lisa” and “Raised Up by Witches” give over to the tense chug of “Cult of Eneera,” and by setting a broad enough scope that just about whatever they want it to contain, it can. Zappa-jazz in “Scissor Bliss?” Sure. “Cult of Eneera” going extra-intricate in the rhythm at the midpoint before throwing punches of wah-bass to an effect funky and dense, making its own kind of fun? How could it be otherwise? “A Tale About a Photon” picks up the prog-boogie wherever they left it off, and is melodic despite the bit of push coinciding, with a low-key focus on dynamic, though it’s not exactly like “dynamic” was lacking in the leadup to the Raised Up by Witches‘ penultimate inclusion.
They sneak a hook in before they’re halfway done, but it’s less about verse/chorus trades than the linear trajectory they’re moving through and the changes happening on the way, with chimes later and who-knows-what being banged on. There are still changes in the vocals, as even in moving toward the recesses of side B, the band are using everything they have to get max-oddball before their tale unravels to finish, leaving closer “Sången om Ymer” to bounce and threaten a fuzzy overload and go big on melody instead. It spaces out in the middle for a bit of soundscaping, but there’s bass still punching through, and the melody returns and ends in purposefully not-grand style. Like much of the proceedings throughout, this is suited to what Mammoth Volume are doing across the span of Raised Up by Witches in being likewise expansive and not-overblown in a way one might call miraculous if there wasn’t so much obvious work behind it. Turns out they didn’t need the novelty of a comeback to start with. They thrive in this material, and whatever they’ve done before, it’s what they accomplish here and might accomplish going forward that are the most exciting.
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 26th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
This post is the first I’ve heard of Law of All, and I note that because it’s the kind of thing I may end up wanting to remember later. The Norwegian up-and-coming fuzz troupe — and who knew Norway would be home to a heavy boom in the 2020s? probably Norway — are among the latest adds from Oslo’s Høstsabbat, and the first impression was striking enough that I’ve included the embed of their EP below along with the festival’s Spotify playlist. There’s a lot to dig about it, and they’re still just part of the announcement.
Morpholith have a new record on the way, which is great news for anybody in need of a good crushing, and Ole Rokseth of SÂVER, Hymn, etc., joins on with the all-lowercase experimental project under aapen himmel, which is sure to be a trip. Rounded out by the doom-worshipping doom of Dread Witch, the latest batch of names for this October’s Høstsabbat emphasizes the character of the fest, the diversification of sound that’s been happening since it’s inception, and this year’s particular drive toward exploring new ideas and sounds while keeping a firm foundation in volume and impact. That church is gonna rumble.
From the old socials:
Time for another batch of artists!
Todays announcement is heavily focused on fresh and exciting acts, set to set the bar for the future afar.
Verkstedet will of course see crazy talent tearing the place apart this year as well. As every year. While some of you were sobbing when Queens of the Stone Age cancelled their Oslo appearance some weeks ago, you can get your grin back.
Law of All is coming.
This band do their rock so vital and fresh, with the perfect dosage of sassy coolness, it´s weird to acknowledge they´re local.
We are stoked to finally have them on the lineup, and show you what the fuzz is all about.
Next up is our first ever band to come visit from Iceland.
The land where everything looks doom, wether you like it or not.
Morpholith has been leading the way in the growing doom scene in Reykjavik for years, and we are dead stoked to se their mammoth wall of sound rattle the Crypt. The first single from their upcoming album «Dystopian Distributions of Mass Produced Narcotics» dropped yesterday.
I guess the title speak for itself.
This will be massive!
UNDER AAPEN HIMMEL is probably unknown to most of you.
This is the brand new project of Oslo-based musician Ole Ulvik Rokseth.
His fingers has been involved in countless projects over the years and he sure has made an impact on the Oslo underground.
under aapen himmel blends his love for electronics, raw heaviness and experimental gloom to a crisp mixture with a strong signature.
Its all about cherry picking the very best of all elements. making them shine like glowsticks.
Dread Witch – There´s band name you can take notice of right away.
These Danish maniacs will riff the church apart with their exploding chugs, guttural screams, apocalyptic darkness and an otherwordly sense for the delicate extreme.
The Danish way.
We are psyched to bring these guys to Norway for the first time.
Watch out for the next announcement soon – and be sure to secure your ticket.
PS! Festival ticket prices will slightly increase as soon as all our bands for 2024 are unveiled.
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 26th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Kind of a surprise to see vocalist Siân Blu Greenaway departing from Alunah, and that’s in no small part because the band are about to release a new album, titled Fever Dream, on Sept. 20 through Heavy Psych Sounds. They have shows coming up, too. At least a slot at Heavy Psych Sounds Fest in London this November. I don’t know what’s going to happen with that or with the band going forward, but one assumes Greenaway will shift her focus to her glam rock project Bobbie Dazzle, whose debut LP, Fandabidozi, will be out Oct. 4 on Rise Above Records.
One recalls vividly when Greenaway joined the band in 2017, taking on a standalone-singer role in place of guitarist/vocalist Sophie Day. That was after Alunah‘s 2017 album, Solennial (review here), came out through Svart and reaffirmed the forest-worship doom of the band’s earliest work. The addition of Greenaway would coincide with a shift away from the natural themes that were so much a part of the band’s original persona, and when guitarist David Day followed Sophie out, the metamorphosis was complete. Drummer Jake Mason, bassist Dan Burchmore and guitarist Matt Noble have said that the band will continue, but in just what form or incarnation remains to be seen. Can Alunah pull off remaking themselves twice? Why not?
Ultimately, Greenaway would front Alunah for three albums, including Fever Dream, and the 2018 EP that introduced her to the band’s established listenership. One looks forward to hearing what the future brings for Greenaway with Bobbie Dazzle and for Alunah, and certainly the upcoming LPs from both are given a different contextual shine from the announcement you’ll find below as it appeared on social media this past Friday:
ALUNAH – Announcement
Sian after 7 years with the band is hanging up her velvet catsuits and leaving Alunah.
“Thank you so much to all the fans for the years of love and support and thank you from me to Jake, Dan and Matt for the music we created together. Alunah isn’t over and I wish the boys all the luck as they go forward. I of course have my solo music so I’ll still be performing and I look forward to seeing the next phase of Alunah as they continue.”
Siân’s swansong is released September 20th so preorder “Fever Dream” from HEAVY PSYCH SOUNDS.
Fair to call Crowbar‘s self-titled sophomore LP a classic, I’d think. The album was released in 1993 through Pavement Music as the follow-up to the New Orleans-based band’s 1991 debut, Obedience Thru Suffering, and was notable at the time for being produced by Pantera‘s Philip Anselmo, but it’s the songs that have stood the test of time, in no small part because Crowbar still plays them. I can’t remember seeing the band live that they didn’t play at least “High Rate Extinction” or “All I Had I Gave,” if not “Fixation,” “Self-Inflicted,” “Existence is Punishment” or “I Have Failed,” and that’s more than half the record’s 10-song tracklist some fraction of which might feature in a given night’s setlist. The songs are still relevant for the band, is what I’m saying, before you get to the genre-defining influence Crowbar have had on sludge metal — they and Eyehategod should feature in New Orleans tourism ads — and their impact remains visceral.
“High Rate Extinction” sets the chug, and the chug is a vital part of what Crowbar is about. Topped with guitarist Kirk Windstein‘s clenched-stomach barks switching from channel to channel, before smoothing out for a rolling chorus, Windstein and Matt Thomas‘ guitars are immediately central to the proceedings, and while the world outside was consumed by grunge and the beginnings of ‘heavy’ as something distinct from metal — even if the language for it wasn’t there yet — Crowbar seemed to exist in both worlds, and their aggression was as much about the inward searching of their lyrics as the impact of the instrumental lurch that often but not always accompanied, but generally seemed to because the tones were so goddamned heavy.
Like perhaps some others of a certain age, I found Crowbar on Beavis and Butt-Head. I would’ve been maybe 11 or 12 at the time, and Beavis’ approval carried weight as regards opinion leadership. Crowbar at that point featured Todd Strange on bass and Craig Nunenmacher on drums alongside Windstein and Thomas, and while it would be years before I eventually picked up the album, there was always an awareness of who Crowbar were and what they were about. When I finally got there, it was like they’d been waiting for me all along, brooding and volatile, the very epitome of ‘crunch’ in their sound. I had a friend at WSOU who was so into them that the association still lingers these 20-plus years after the fact. I guess what I’m saying is Crowbar‘s Crowbar is an album you can live with, grow with. It’s not perfect. The production is raw compared to subsequent efforts in the band’s 12-LP catalog, and its dudely contemplations operate from a gender framework that feels dated, but again, the songs are undeniable.
Whether it’s the landmark from-the-depths rumble of “All I Had (I Gave)” or the even-harder-landing “Will That Never Dies” right after, the dare of melody throughout that comes to the forefront on the nodding cover of Led Zeppelin‘s “No Quarter” — which I’ll take over the original every single time — or the fact that “Holding Nothing” is three minutes and 11 seconds long and is so heavy it seems to take at least twice that, the material on Crowbar is varied in approach and dynamic in tempo, but informed by a sound so distinctive that it draws together as one 35-minute entirety. Gritty and tumultuous, “Negative Pollution” or “Will That Never Dies” might be called proto-crushing, but the two cuts on either end of the LP each have their own purpose, and as rough as they are, there’s no lack of expressiveness or emotionality to them. There’s more than chestbeating going on, and even that level of emotional complexity was a reach for something so metal at the time, however hyper-masculine it might seem in hindsight.
A not-insignificant portion of Crowbar‘s legacy comes from this record, and it set a template for methodology that one could argue they’ve been working from ever since — which isn’t to accuse them of trying to do the same thing over and over, necessarily; they have a defined sound, know it, and have been able to deliver it for more than three decades; this is commendable, not the least because they kick ass — to some degree or other. But you can also hear the underpinnings of hardcore punk in Crowbar‘s early sludge, and while their primary impact would be on the next generation of metalcore purveyors — close associations with Jamey Jasta of Hatebreed, and so on — Crowbar never really have gotten the credit they’ve deserved for the intricacies of their approach, perhaps as a result of being so outwardly bludgeoning. Can’t have everything, I suppose.
But the self-titled is something of a given in my mind. A record I take and have taken for granted for years — it’s always there, waiting, but I’ve heard the songs live more than on the CD in the last decade — its solidity is unflinching, and it shouldn’t be seen as a coincidence that so many of their covers feature classic-style art and architectural elements, in addition to often representing their New Orleans roots. They’re speaking to that same carved-in-marble, painted-in-oil sensibility in their music. Anachronistic in terms of what was the trend in both pop-rock and the metallic underground of its day, Crowbar sounds like it was made to stand the test of time, and it has. Never pretentious despite the philosophizing, and never so deep in its own head as to lose sight of the song in question, it’s the kind of tape you’d buy and perhaps be surprised to find how much it informed your taste going forward.
It would be a couple years after this that Windstein (whose work has held up) and Anselmo (whose yarl and white-supremacist-adjacent antics are distinctly less appealing) would take part in Down with Pepper Keenan from C.O.C. and Jimmy Bower from the already-mentioned Eyehategod, and I won’t deny that band’s effect in terms of leading listeners from more mainstream metal into the heavy underground, but Crowbar‘s Crowbar is like the treasure there for that audience to discover as they made their way deeper into the cavernous world of sludge and doom. For me, it’s among the reasons I’m most glad to have been a part of Generation Beavis.
As always, I hope you enjoy. If you want something more recent from Crowbar, their latest outing is 2022’s Thanks for reading.
—
Limping to the finish this week, I admit. I had intended to have a Mammoth Volume review up today — release day for them, also Delving and some other cool stuff — but I got no time to write yesterday beyond an initial four sentences, and that was it. I ended up putting together today’s Howling Giant and Ken Wohlrob posts stoned on the couch later in the evening, largely braindead just from the drain of the day (if not the gummy), and that was it. I did my best. The Mammoth Volume might get reviewed Monday or might get stuck in the next Quarterly Review.
That, I was hoping would be early September, but looking at the calendar this week I realized that was both dumb and impossible. The kid goes back to school day after Labor Day, so that week is out because it will be insane — she’s starting first grade, and if it’s anything like the start of kindergarten, which I very much hope it isn’t, my attention will be needed in supporting that — and then you get into Desertfest New York and other things I’ve already committed to. I’ve currently got two weeks slated for the next QR; the week starting Sept. 30 and the week starting Oct. 7, and it’s mostly full. If that’s when it ends up being, fine. I could maybe do the week before? I don’t know. I’ll look at it again today if I have two fucking seconds and any energy whatsoever. Which is a maybe.
All of that has inevitably led me to the question of how much I still need to be doing this, how much I need to dedicate the time I have to The Obelisk as opposed to, say, being a more engaged parent right at this very moment I’m typing, or doing or thinking about any number of other things throughout the course of a day. I know for a fact that I could very easily go the rest of my life without ever looking at my email again. I don’t think I’d mind that. But I’m still here, and I think if I didn’t feel like I needed to be here, I wouldn’t be so bummed out about not having the time in the first place. Maybe it was my own navelgazing that put Crowbar’s “weak man weak mind” in my head this week. Or maybe I just thought about what to close the week with yesterday at the playground with The Pecan and decided to roll with it since I hadn’t done it before. You decide.
It’s starting to be cold at night and in the early mornings as of this week. Fall is coming. Sending The Patient Mrs. off to a new semester and The Pecan, as noted, off to first grade will alleviate some of my temporal concerns — not that I sit around all day on the laptop, but when I’m home alone for upwards of six or eight hours, somehow writing time comes more easily; go figure — but there’s another week before that happens, and The Patient Mrs. was out every night this week between Board of Education meetings, her own work, and social obligation. I don’t know what’s on for next week — for her, anyhow; here I’ve got premieres for Vast Pyre, Wall, maybe-Stöner and Free Ride slated, and I’m going to try to review either that Mammoth Volume or some Psychedelic Source Records jams for Monday — but as always I’ll do my best to do as much as possible, even if I find the results of that effort disappointing by my own, probably unreasonable standard. I wish I wrote more. Tattoo it on my fucking forehead. Or maybe wrap it around my mostly-bare skull since I did manage to get the clippers out last week and tame the mess on my dome that, sad to say, is the only part of me doing anything closely resembling ‘thinning’ at this point in my life. Don’t get me started.
I hope you have a great and safe weekend. Drink water, find solace, whatever you need to do, do it as best you can. I’ll be writing and trying to catch up on email, feigning relevance for anyone other than myself as I do. Thanks for reading.
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 23rd, 2024 by JJ Koczan
I haven’t yet had the pleasure of hearing the upcoming split LP between Virginia’s Smoke and North Carolina’s Doomsday Profit in its entirety, but each band has a track streaming now as a complement to the release announcement, and oof, they’re heavy. The release is out Oct. 25 through Olde Magick Records, and both acts carry a next-generational interpretation of Southern-style heft, feeling pointedly vicious in respective cuts “Scavenger” and “No Salvation” in what if we’re lucky will prove telling of a theme for the release as a whole.
Something of a note to myself to look forward to a thing here, but if you’ve caught onto what either of these bands — both of whom I’d list as up-and-coming in terms of listener attention and realizing potential — are doing over the last few years, you might also find yourself anticipating the release. If not, stream those tracks and be ready to heed the I-should-preorder-this impulse after; there are only 270 copies of the vinyl to be had.
As the PR wire tells it:
Southern doom and heavy psych dealers Smoke (VA) & Doomsday Profit (NC) have joined forces for a Split LP, out Oct. 25 via Olde Magick Records.
Both Smoke and Doomsday Profit have earned accolades for their previous efforts, but are taking big leaps on this split. Drawing from deep wells of Southern sludge and dark psychedelia, the split release builds upon the promise of both bands’ early efforts with an increasingly exploratory approach to doom, sludge, and heavy psych — both heavier and spacier than the releases that preceded it. The strains of doom, stoner-rock, sludge, heavy psych and Southern metal that course through the split should appeal to fans of acts as disparate as All Them Witches and Buzzov-en.
Vinyl edition limited to 270 copies worldwide. Pressed on blue and pink swirl vinyl.
Tracklisting: 1. Smoke – Appalachian Black Magic 2. Smoke – Scavenger 3. Smoke – Hellish Rebuke 4. Doomsday Profit – No Salvation 5. Doomsday Profit – I Am Your God 6. Doomsday Profit – Void Ritual
DOOMSDAY PROFIT: Kevin See (lead guitar, vocals) Ryan Sweeney (bass, vocals) Bryan Reed (rhythm guitar, vocals) Tradd Yancey (drums, percussion)
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 23rd, 2024 by JJ Koczan
If you only know New York’s Ken Wohlrob from his work in doom crunchers Eternal Black or projects like Northern Heretic and the hardcore-minded End of Hope or the pandemic-born Swarm of Flies, “Variac” is likely going to seem pretty far out from all of that, but the guitarist’s second solo single behind this Spring’s “Simulacrum” (posted here) follows suit with the guitar-based drone methodology proffered in that track. I get a distinctly Tribes of Neurot impression from the near-seven-minute “Variac” — some of the violin-aimed effects and guitar-in-vacuum feel remind me of Grace, but can certainly be related to any according number of ambient works — but no question Wohlrob is exploring the form, and the result of his work is an evocative and immersive standalone piece.
I asked Wohlrob after “Simulacrum” whether these songs were leading to an album and the answer I got rounded out to a solid “maybe.” Fair enough. Of course, if the material in question hit a nerve with listeners and the demand was made, I don’t imagine there’d be much argument about putting out an LP, but such ethereal sounds are a form of extremity in music and so almost always have a limited reach, so I wouldn’t bank on that. It’s up to him, then, and probably part of the whether-or-not will come down to how the songs flow when there are enough of them to comprise an LP. We’ll see when we get there, and there’s a ways to go.
But for now, this track is out today through various streaming outlets, and I’ve got both singles at the bottom of this post for those feeling low-key bold enough to take them on. If that’s you, enjoy:
KEN WOHLROB – “Variac”
niku-zuki-no-men (肉付きの面, mask with flesh attached)
Our brains are a strange lockbox. What we choose to keep in there is inexplicable. I was watching Kaneto Shindō’s Onibaba. The soundtrack by Hikaru Hayashi utilizes a sharp sound to heighten the tension, possibly a bow being drawn rapidly across a violin or viola for a quick instant, especially when a character appears wearing the demon-like Hannya mask. The velocity of that single note was strangely compelling. It stuck, much like the flesh to the mask in the film. I don’t know why. But at odd moments it would rise up from my subconscious. I would hear that high-velocity note. And I would see the mask from the film…
“Variac” started with that sound. Or rather, creating my own version of it. Can we be haunted by a musical sound?
But like all the soundscapes I’m creating, it grew into something else…
Memories are not like movies. They don’t have story beats. Or a three-act structure. They’re more fluid. One bleeding into the next with no rhyme nor reason. Layer upon layer triggered by the devil knows what. Ever found yourself saying, “It’s weird, but I just thinking about…”?
I can’t tell you what you should feel when listening to “Variac.” It’s probably going to be different because I haven’t lived your life. And I don’t know what you’ve got tucked away in the subconscious behind the mask.
releases August 23, 2024 Performed and produced by Ken Wohlrob Recorded at Quatre Cagne, Mohegan Lake, NY June-July 2024 Obsidian Sky Records #010
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 23rd, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Having spent this year touring as a four-piece since welcoming James Sanderson as a full-time member alongside guitarist/vocalist Tom Polzine, bassist/vocalist Sebastian Baltes and drummer/vocalist Zach Wheeler, Nashville heavy rockers Howling Giant the other day put up a post from Sanderson saying he was stepping back at least from touring on second-guitar/vocals with the band. They’ve said he’ll remain involved in writing and recording, as maybe he kind of was, anyway? You know how it is. Sometimes bands have friends. More when they’re good.
In addition to that change — and yeah, I’m kind of bummed I didn’t see four-piece HG; I had a reason for missing it when they came through with The Obsessed and Gozu back in March, but I can’t remember it now and so in my head I just suck — and a new signature espresso roast you can expect to see reviewed here a couple mornings after it arrives, Howling Giant have new dates out with the aforementioned Gozu in addition to the Obelisk-presented run they’ll do with Mars Red Sky around appearances at Crucial Fest and Ripplefest Texas. With Gozu, it’s a few clubs after that fest in Austin, but then there are more shows with Mars Red Sky coming in December, since the first few shows of that tour had to be rescheduled.
The makeups haven’t been announced yet but god damn I’m hoping for a late add to Desertfest New York next month, or for December — gasp! — maybe a Jersey night? Clifton, Jersey City? Shit, Maplewood has to have an underground venue by now. I can rent out the firehouse up the road, if need be. Otherwise, I’ll have missed out seeing Howling Giant in support of 2023’s Glass Future (review here), and that’s indeed a thing to miss. I would sincerely prefer to not.
The dates are from the band’s newsletter. True, I could’ve taken them from any number of social media platforms — Howling Giant aren’t shy when they have a tour to push, nor should they be — but not many in 2024 have a newsletter, and I appreciate the fact that the now-again trio cover their bases.
So, to the PR Wire:
We’re hitting the road soon with Mars Red Sky and then Gozu!
In case you missed it or aren’t on the social medias, here are our upcoming dates with Mars Red Sky and then Gozu. We’re working on filling the last two gaps of the week with Gozu so if you have any suggestions, feel free to shoot us an email back!
w/ Mars Red Sky: 9/03 Chicago, IL – Reggie’s 9/04 Milwaukee, WI – X-Ray Arcade 9/05 Minneapolis, MN – 7th Street Entry 9/06 Sioux Falls, SD – Remedy Brewing 9/07 Rapid City, SD – Fairground 9/08 Denver, CO – Hi-Dive 9/10 Portland, OR – The High Water Mark 9/11 Seattle, WA – Substation 9/12 Boise, ID – The Shredder 9/13 Salt Lake City, UT – Crucial Fest 9/14 Las Vegas, NV – Sinwave 9/15 San Francisco, CA – Bottom of the Hill 9/16 Sacramento, CA – Cafe Colonial 9/17 Los Angeles, CA – El Cid Sunset 9/18 Tempe, AZ – Yucca Tap Room 9/19 Albuquerque, NM – Launchpad 9/20 El Paso, TX – The Rosewood 9/21 Austin, TX – Ripplefest Texas
w/ Gozu: 9/24 Houston, TX – Black Magick Social Club 9/25 New Orleans, LA – Siberia 9/26 Atlanta, GA – Bogg’s Social & Supply 9/28 Nashville, TN – The East Room
Already have tickets for the postponed shows? Fear not, they will be honored for the re-book in December. We’ll send those makeup dates as we get them (we’re looking between December 5th and 14th). If for any reason you want a refund, contact the venue/promoter.
Howling Giant are: Tom Polzine – Guitar and Vocals Zach Wheeler – Drums and Vocals Sebastian Baltes – Bass and Vocals
