Embroiled in an outbound interstellar thrust from pretty much the not-literally-said word ‘go’ on “Palim Palim,” Speck‘s debut album, Unkraut, takes a linear trajectory as it reels unbounded through the universe, undulating and careening as it goes. It’s not all raucous come-with-us antigrav thrust from the Vienna, Austria, three-piece, who released Unkraut on their own in 2021 and followed up with an issue through Tonzonen in 2022, but Patrick Säuerl‘s drums enact a vitality on “Palim Palim,” not quite the neo-space metal of Slift or King Gizzard or whichever big modern psych act you want to name, and more rooted in the European heavy underground of the last 20-plus years, with bassist Lisa Winkelmüller doing fretruns around the intermittent solo divergences of guitarist Marcel Cultrera — aware of and willing to be adjacent to heavy psychedelia as a genre — but as they hit the brakes going into the brief comedown “II” after “Palim Palim,” a grand mellowing that picks up in tempo around the guitar in jammy style before the halfway point and builds up from there to a noisy crescendo and is brought down again, the movement is no less fluid.

Ebbs and flows should be nothing new to those with any familiarity to instrumental heavy music, but as they seem to be making efforts to distinguish their approach from the history and methods of krautrock — at least that’s what I get from Unkraut as a title; if that interpretation is off, I’d love to be gently informed in a comment — what’s letting them do that most of all is the showcase of raw chemistry in the sound of the 37-minute outing’s five component tracks. It’s a difficult niche to pin down, as the likes of Hawkwind, Colour Haze, Earthless or Sula Bassana (with whom Cultrera now collaborates in Minerall) could be cited as influences depending on a given moment, whether it’s the space rock call to prayer in the strum of the centerpiece title-track or the subsequent “Firmament,” which is no less expansive in reach but is much quieter as it goes about its exploratory business. That pair, “Unkraut” and “Firmament,” echo the dynamic between “Palim Palim” and “II,” in being a more active piece followed by something comparatively less of a push, but as “Unkraut” caps its blowout finish — an apex for the album that closer “Megachonk ∞” answers by riding a full-go groove for most of its eight minutes — and “Firmament” sets itself to answering back, the line they draw from one side to the other of their sound is longer and the music accordingly broader in scope.

To wit, where “II” is the shortest inclusion at 4:50 and tied to a build structure despite being executed organically enough that if you told me it was an unplotted jam and the band had no idea where they were headed when they picked up their instruments and hit record, it would be believable. I don’t know that that is or isn’t the case, but the way “Firmament” — which like the rest of the songs is just a little over eight minutes long — delves deeper into subdued, meditative psychedelics, it doesn’t have that payoff. After “Unkraut,” “Firmament” subtly hypnotizes almost before the listener understands what has happened; its quiet outset emerges smoothly from the comedown of the title-track and reroutes from the expected path of another ‘heavier’ stretch by simply doing something else. Crazy, right? I know, but it works all the more because it puts “Megachonk ∞,” which even seems to have a little bit of vocals snuck into its procession, where that payoff might otherwise be. To (hopefully) make it clear: “Firmament” ends up complementing the song after it as much as the song before it precisely because it doesn’t lose the plot. If one thinks of “Palim Palim” and “II” as a kind of encapsulated demonstration for the movement across “Unkraut,” “Firmament” and “Megachonk ∞,” it’s kind of like that in listening, but that doesn’t account for “Unkraut” being on side A of the vinyl edition.

Neither does it invalidate the impression, especially for those taking Unkraut on digitally, say, via the stream above. This hill-before-a-mountain character suits the fluidity of Speck‘s material overall, and the nuance they bring to it in the rhythmic warmth and the sense of purpose that emerges from the changes and how they’re made give the album an individual persona within a well-established style. By the time they’re two or three minutes into “Megachonk ∞,” they’ve made their intention pretty clear in carrying forward a shove to the finish. There’s a momentary break for some far-off echoing semi-spoken vocals, almost egging the instruments on, or maybe the listener, some grunts in there, but the instrumental kickback is quick to arrive and sweeps to the wammy-inclusive screaming peak of “”Megachonk ∞” that gives over when it’s good and ready to the residual noise that provides a satisfying wash at the end. The sense that the band could just keep going is palpable, but that they don’t, that they keep it relatively brief and in prime LP length, demonstrates a control and restraint on their sound that only further speaks to the purposefulness behind what Unkraut does.

Did it reinvent krautrock? I wouldn’t be the one to ask, but it is decidedly other from it while touching on its methods and modus. But the relatively straightforward arrangements — there are plenty of effects throughout but so far as I know Speck don’t delve into the world of keyboards let alone vintage-worship or anything like that — keep a human cure in these songs, and that grounds them as well, as much as they’re grounded at all. Speck have continued to progress along these lines over the last couple years, in their 2023 split with Interkosmos (review here), second full-length, Eine Gute Reise, and participation in earlier-2024’s International Space Station Vol. 2 (review here) four-way split at the behest of Worst Bassist Records, and nothing they’ve done to this point has shown any signs of their growth slowing. Amid a generational turnover in the heavy underground, Speck‘s Unkraut presents a fresh perspective and, crucially, an immersive plunge for the listener to take. To close, I’ll note that I didn’t fully appreciate how much Speck had to offer until I saw them live at this past summer’s Freak Valley Festival (review here), of which their set was an absolute highlight. A band to catch if you can make it happen.

As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.

—

Hey, it’s the first Friday Full-Length in, what, four weeks? Turns out I still do this. I had to wonder for a minute if I’d ever get it back on track. Last Friday was my daughter’s birthday, as I noted last weekend, and the two Fridays prior were in an ongoing Quarterly Review, so yeah, I guess this would’ve been four weeks without one if I let it slip. Rest assured this brought about an existential crisis. Who even am I if I don’t spend my Friday morning clacking away on the laptop keyboard about some record I probably should’ve written up years ago? Fortunately that’s not a question I’ll need to answer this week.

Last night was Halloween. Holy smokes. First we had the Halloween parade at The Pecan’s school. For that one, she wore the black hole costume her grandmother made — black shirt and pants, with a hula hoop covered in fiery-looking fabric she could wear around her for an accretion disk — and of course that won the prize for the best costume in her grade. The Patient Mrs. and I ended up being dragged into a video the principal of the school made — it’ll come in an email, if I can link it here I will; no doubt it will be hilarious — before the parade actually even happened. Then all the classes came out and did the parade around the blacktop behind the school while the corresponding adults made fools of ourselves gaggling at the children. So it goes. The good news is it was 80 degrees and sunny. The bad news is that means the world is ending.

Then we got home. Costume change from black hole to Link from Breath of the Wild — blue tunic — for The Pecan. She saw a kid last weekend at the neighborhood Halloween parade — parents have invented ways to use a costume more than once in the time since I was a kid; it is strange and I’m pretty sure my daughter’s generation will decide it’s not worth it — dressed as Link with a Master Sword and shield and just about lost her mind. Couldn’t take her eyes off it. We ended up driving last Saturday afternoon to Edgewater, NJ, like 50 minutes, to a Party City to buy the sword and shield, and The Patient Mrs. was able to secure a costume, plus acceptable boots, from the internet in time for the day itself.

The plan was to go with a group of her friends from Girl Scouts who live in the neighborhood — there are like six or seven of them — and we’d end up doing that, but a friend of The Patient Mrs.’ was coming along for the hell of it and when she got to the house, the dog got out. So here I go sprinting down the road — thankfully not out to 202, which is like 100 feet the other way and as a four-lane road would be certain death for the dog — calling “Tilly come!” at the top of my panicked lungs. Again. Electric fences cost thousands of dollars, I’m sorry. A neighbor came out of her house. The dog had stopped her own sprint at the edge of this woman’s property and Tilly loves people so much that all the lady had to do was say, “Hello puppy!” and Tilly ran over to meet her. Tilly had seemed like she had enough at that point — it’s just not letting her get out of sight and get lost in the interim; also not letting her get runover — anyway and took the bellyrubs while waiting for me to hobble over and get her. I was glad I did. We do our best not to keep the door open, but the dog is wiggly and dumb and surprisingly fast for being a mix of two lap breeds; shih-tzu and bichon friese. She’s 16 months old now.

Then we had to go trick-or-treating, meeting up with the Girl Scout group up the hill. The roads were busier with cars than one might’ve expected, but it was ultimately fine. Some of the parents brought shots and whatever in their water bottles, The Patient Mrs. had a couple drinks in hers; I ate a gummy before we went out and was well stoned by the time it got dark. The Pecan got tired around 7:30 and was flailing in the road as cars passed by — you should’ve seen the moms diving after her; noble in their intentions, but the more you drag The Pecan one way, the more she’ll push back into the middle of the street; keep a respectful distance and offer verbal reminders if you want to exert even limited control the situation, which you probably don’t actually need to do because even out-of-control-tired Pecan knows where she belongs and will get there, whatever heart attacks she provides along the way; “I got it,” I said as I followed her on a jaunt further down the road ahead of the group near the end of the night, and sure enough, I had it; check the perimeter and direction of momentum in any situation — so we turned around and headed back to the car with her fine selection of candy in the traditional Halloween bucket that holds fidgets the rest of the year. She came home, had a Tootsie Roll or two and was ready for a slice of pizza and bed. She kept the costume on while she watched Zelda fan theories on YouTube, and nobody was up late. It was a lot going with the group, but I’m glad the kid has friends — she’s definitely the weird one, and I expect she’ll continue to be — and she got to spend time with them doing fun, not-school-related stuff.

We had our parent-teacher conference this week, for which I was pointedly not stoned. She’s killing it in first grade, her teacher loves her, and she’s a joy to have in class. Considering where we were a year ago at this time, I feel justified in the tears of joy I shed. She’s an amazing kid — right now she’s got the Master Sword and is dancing from couch to couch; I was a blacksmith and tempered the sword; neither The Patient Mrs. nor I are particularly thrilled about introducing weapons-play to the house — and beginning to see the world around her in ways that she previously couldn’t. I have no idea what the next year will bring and wouldn’t embarrass myself by trying to predict. My experience of parenting has been a rollercoaster with the lowest lows and some of the highest highs I’ve ever had. I expect we’ll keep busy, one way or the other.

I could go on here, but this post is long enough, and if you’re still reading, thanks. Kid’s got off from school today for the Hindu holiday Diwali — the town we live in is a big South Asian enclave; it is a strength of the community and the food is amazing — and she had half-days most of this week for conferences, so I expect Monday will be something of a harsh return to reality, but we’ve got the weekend first and that’ll be plenty. Whatever you’re up to, I hope you have a great time and stay safe. Thanks again for reading, don’t forget to hydrate, and I’ll see you back on Monday for more.

FRM.

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Tags: Austria, Speck, Speck Unkraut, Tonzonen Records, Unkraut, Vienna

This entry was posted on Friday, November 1st, 2024 at 11:29 am and is filed under Bootleg Theater. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.