Buzzard Premieres “Doom Folk Fury”; Everything is Not Going to Be Alright Out Nov. 7
Buzzard‘s new EP, Everything is Not Going to Be Alright, will be released on Nov. 7. For Christopher Thomas Elliott, the project’s sole denizen, it (probably?) tops off a busy year that began with a full-length release called Satiricus Doomicus Americus (review here) and that this Spring brought new levels of tonal weight and metallic intention to the established ‘doom folk’ sound — Doom Folk (review here) was also Buzzard‘s mostly-acoustic-guitar-based 2024 debut — and in Spring, another full album, Mean Bone (review here), followed. That’s three records in about 13 months’ time from the Massachusetts-based solo outfit, and with the seven tracks/30 minutes of Everything is Not Going to Be Alright — fair enough for it to be billed as an EP since the other outings are longer, but it’s also still definitely longer than other full-length releases I’ve encountered in the last week — Elliott continues the thread of growing progressively heavier each time out, pushing himself to see how far into doom metal he can go while retaining the clear-voiced Americana aspect of his songwriting, which is likewise growing more malleable around a foundation in verse/chorus and (duh) folk traditionalism.
Whatever it’s billed as in your head-canon — it’s ‘short-album’ in mine, in part for the flow between songs and the implication of narrative cast across the lyrics to all of them. And if the title didn’t give it away, Everything is Not Going to Be Alright is themed around this troubled, fractured moment in United States history. Elliott has a relatable axe to grind with the future his generation was promised and that which has been realized, and beginning with “This Land is Your Land (Until it’s Not),” he lays bare grievances for redress, and whether it’s the role of corporations in fascism or the more personal appeal in “Fever Breaks” (video here), “Together we could save your farms, your hospitals, your schools/I’ll help you quit the cult of klepto-fascist rule,” before laying out a final regime-change riff, Elliott not only stands on the cliffside to summon Yog-Sothoth as “Screaming into the Void” posits but is a witness to the dismantling of the remaining post-Citizens-United vestiges of US democracy seemingly as it happens in maddening, overwhelming real-time. As “Doom Folk Fury” starts out its first, acoustic-led verse, “Ever since 2024, I don’t give a fuck no more,” the rest of the lyrics there (and no, the references don’t end with Clutch) and in the surrounding six pieces reveal that apathy as aspirational. If Elliott didn’t care deeply about his country’s present and future betrayal to the ideals it once touted, his response to it wouldn’t be so passionate.
And passion is a guiding principle here. It’s shown as a kind of fervency that extends to the arrangements of the songs themselves, which from the doomly lumber of “This Land is Your Land (Until it’s Not)” through the three-and-a-half-minute epic finale “Lunatic Lighthouse Keeper” — which becomes a kind of dark-hallucinatory response to everything else happening lyrically before it; an endgame of apocalyptic, swirling, still-melodic heavy metal depicting Lovecraftian universe-death and renewal; it’s also a new pinnacle for outward-facing heaviness in Buzzard‘s sound; atmosphere, impact and craft; it’s perfect because you don’t know what’s real, and while I’m run-on ranting I’ll tell you it’s among the best songs I’ve heard this year, easily, and not the first by Elliott on that list — can convey chaos but is never actually out of control. Elliott keeps a firm grip on his craft, and has enough distance from his subject to not get lost in his messaging. The songs vary accordingly, and on purpose. “Doom Folk Fury” picks up from its beginning with a cathartic sweep of a chorus and follows suit from the opener before it in utilizing a break-and-redirect bridge to foster depth of character, arrangement and narrative in the songs. Later, he’ll use more keys as well, but as “Doom Folk Fury” surges through its second hook (I’ve typed out the lyrics below, from memory; note the reference to “Cockroaches and Weed” from Doom Folk and the Satiricus LP) and passes the three-minute mark, it leaves distortion momentarily behind and sets up an all-the-more satisfying return.
This structure is put to use throughout, in a variety of ways, as “Screaming Into the Void” uses its chorus of “I upload, repost share and BCC a prayer/But the stars at night give zero likes, not a soul says ‘hey there,'” to contrast a verse that’s like half-nerd-rapped, or at least rhymed for rhythmic emphasis while surrounded by a willful overdose of tonal fuzz. The lyrics and one-liners make a it highlight,. Declarations like, “I fought bullies in the kiddie pool/I hated jocks in high school/I did drugs/I still do/I’m doing them now,” are likewise clever and empowering, and the later backing vocal line, “Elliott phone home,” references the movie E.T. with a taunt that, being named Elliott, rings true to kids being shitty to each other. A bit of autobiography amid essaying; not a complaint, especially leading to a ’90s Bowie call and response ending. “Terms and Conditions Apply” speaks with a broader stroke in calling out the asterisks of American social progress. “You’re free to speak your mind/Terms and conditions apply,” and such. The repeated title line grounds the proceedings, but as “Screaming Into the Void” used its soothing hook melody as its departure from the full heft of its layered guitar, “Terms and Conditions Apply” more directly employs loud/quiet tradeoffs between its verse and chorus, and so Elliott does kind of the same thing in a different way. This creates an album-style flow across the EP, which, again, culminates in “Lunatic Lighthouse Keeper” with a new level of stately aural force.
It wouldn’t be possible if there weren’t two sides of Buzzard‘s sound to dynamically oppose each other. In so doing, “Terms and Conditions Apply” is very much the centerpiece of Everything is Not Going to Be Alright, but Elliott is an apt enough songwriter to break his own rules, and the prior-standalone-single “Fever Breaks” does that, pushing the guitar down in the mix to give the vocals more space but keeping largely to its central level of intensity. The guitar becomes a clarion and there’s a takeoff later, but “Fever Breaks” feels more folkish for its comparative straightforwardness, and it pairs fluidly with the imagined better future of “Take the Tyrant Down” that follows, the penultimate track being acoustically-based on balance, save for the somewhat theatrical chugging departure in its second half, an urging procession as repetitions of “Down down down” are complemented by the reminder “Sic semper tyrannis” (“ever thus to tyrants”), the obvious reference there to the US’ history of political violence — you might say it’s how the country started and it never really stopped — can only be called relevant, though I suppose if you wanted to say “unsubtle,” that would also apply to its righteous rage. Mellotron provides an epilogue to “Take the Tyrant Down,” which like “Fever Breaks” is a classic protest song, if varied in its manifestation.
If we — that is, the speaker in the lyrics and the audience carried along with the (at least partially pretend) storyline — are trying to see a future beyond oppression and bootlicking, “Take the Tyrant Down” is hopeful. “Lunatic Lighthouse Keeper,” on the other hand, is crushing. The present it sees is the title-character crashing ships against the shoreline, “Just to see the sailors drown,” and is driven by omens and voices in his head to consume all light with some dark magic and, in the end, using that same power on himself to start creation over. “Turning the mirror on himself, he explodes with the light of a trillion suns” leads into the last chorus, “Golden fire/Devoid of form/There never was nor shall there be safe harbor from this storm.” The description in the second verse as “Obsidian beams of nothingness swallow the passing cars/douse the lights of cities/Snuff out the moon and smother the stars” is no less immersive than the downer chugging riff around which the song is based, and the bleak triumph of “Lunatic Lighthouse Keeper” seems to underscore the idea that perhaps the best future of all, as regards the universe more broadly, is one free of humanity. The notion of ‘burn it all down’ writ on a cosmic scale. Heavy fucking metal.
Is Elliott screaming into the void? Maybe. To some degree or other, everyone is. But what I’ll tell is that I got sent this EP maybe a month ago and I’ve sat with it more than I’ve sat with anything else I’ve listened to this year save for Satiricus Doomicus Americus, which came out in January, and that in the anthemic defiance of “Doom Folk Fury,” I’ve found both catharsis and comfort, and felt a little less alone in the inflicted terrors of this moment for that. While free speech lasts, I can hardly think of a better use to put it toward. The end of the line in “This Land is Your Land (Until it’s Not)” is “Everything is not going to be alright… unless we fight every little thing.” So maybe it’s not so hopeless as one thinks.
“Doom Folk Fury” premieres on the player below, followed by the lyrics and Elliott‘s own, far-more-concise summary of the EP’s mission.
Please enjoy, and keep your head up. We’re all we have and we need each other. You’re not crazy for feeling crazy and you’re not the only one. Thanks for reading.
Buzzard, “Doom Folk Fury” track premiere
“Doom Folk Fury” lyrics:
Ever since 2024, I don’t give a fuck no more
I faced the facts and the fact I faced is the fucked up face
of the human race.
Hockey teams compete for the Cup as couples smack each other up.
Holy yahoos take up arms as chickens cry on factory farms.Oh-oh-oh
Pure fuckin’ Doom Folk Fury
Whoa-oh-oh
Pure fuckin’ Doom Folk Fury
Fight a fascist, fight a bully, fight the church
Get out of the country
Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh
Pure fuckin’ Doom Folk FurySo much fury, so much sound, so much love to go around
No thank you, I do not comply with POTUS, ICE or the FBI
I try to see things from all sides but I end up gouging out my eyes
Truth hits me like a firehose when I can’t see what’s right under my nose (yeah, here it comes…)Singin’ oh-oh-oh
Pure fuckin’ Doom Folk Fury
Whoa-oh-oh
Pure fuckin’ Doom Folk Fury
The way we shit on each other and smile
Makes me sad, it’s fucking vile
Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh
Pure fuckin’ Doom Folk FurySee the new beginning — viruses and cockroaches evolve!
Monuments erected for time immemorial dissolve!
Smell the forest flowers, hear the mountain choirs in the air!
It’s beautiful! It’s brutal! It’s real! And none of us are there!
None of us are there.I used to check my phone
but now I don’t
I used to follow the blow-by-blow
of the constant news
like a fiend for dope
I used to care
but something broke
Something broke
I don’t know what
In my head, in my heart, in my gut.Whoa, whoa
Well Pure fuckin’ Doom Folk Fury
Singin’ whoa-oh-oh
Pure fuckin’ Doom Folk Fury
I can’t believe what we did to the great white shark
What a world we wasted
Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh
Pure fuckin’ vegan Doom Folk FuryMy hopes were high
And so was I
The higher the dream
The farther you fall
All we can do
Is to help each other muddle through
Preorder link: https://ampwall.com/a/buzzarddoomfolk/album/everything-is-not-going-to-be-alright
Politically charged 7-song EP pulls zero punches.
Artwork by Jari Tanduk.
Tracklisting
1. This Land Is Your Land (Until It’s Not)
2. Doom Folk Fury
3. Screaming Into the Void
4. Terms and Conditions Apply
5. Fever Breaks
6. Take the Tyrant Down
7. Lunatic Lighthouse Keeper
Created by Christopher Thomas Elliott: vocals, electric and acoustic guitars, bass, drum programming, dobro, keyboards.
