Quarterly Review: Warning, Mike Bee & The Acid Fuzz Trio, Teké Collective, Carson, Buzzard, Illwind, Spiral Galaxy, Gurt, Crumbling Ghost, Purest Form
Today is the traditional passing-the-midpoint of the Quarterly Review — hump day, if you need it on humping terms — and indeed, this 50-release QR keeps with that tradition. It’s been almost absurdly easy so far to get through, as the best of them are, and not one day — including this one — has passed without me adding at least two releases from each batch of 10 to my notes for year-end list time. That’s a pretty impressive rate, even for an old softy like me, but the bottom line always is that I hope you find something you enjoy even as I do the same. I think maybe I needed this kind of dig-in more than I realized when I started slating what I was going to be writing about. I guess that happens sometimes.
Let’s keep the thing going.
Quarterly Review #21-30:
Warning, Rituals of Shame
Some 20 years after releasing their landmark second album, Watching From a Distance, Patrick Walker-led emotive doom metal pioneers Warning return with a potentially landmark third, Rituals of Shame. The band’s first outing in that long — though Walker has divided his time with 40 Watt Sun and issued solo material as well — is no less grueling of tempo or willfully emotionally laborious for that, and Walker‘s voice remains singularly wrenching such that the 12-minute opening title-track (also the longest; immediate points) feels like it’s pulling you down into the melancholic world that the rest of the 45-minute LP goes on to make, from the plodding “Stations” to, well, the also-plodding “Teacher,” never veering from its purpose or lifting the tonal or melodically-depressive weight once applied. Rituals of Shame is an odd fit for being tagged as ‘brutal,’ but it is its own kind of extremity-of-form nonetheless, and a challenge that sets its terms early and (quietly) dares you to follow the path its songs lay out.
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Mike Bee & The Acid Fuzz Trio, White Noise Sound
Cambodia-via-UK outfit Mike Bee & The Acid Fuzz Trio follows the psychedelic leaning adventures of its namesake songwriter/guitarist/vocalist Mike Bee (also Last Bee on Earth, Deep Sky Revival, etc.) across White Noise Sound from the blinding garage tone-bite of its leadoff title-cut through mellowstoner and dub of “Goodbye Mary Jane” and “Beyond the Wheel,” riffing bluesier on “Hey Bong!” and getting fuzzy and Bowie-gone-desert-contemplative in “Johnny The Living Star” to set up the fierce groove of “Rise Like a Phoenix” at the end, the seven-song/26-minute album — it’s short, but feels like an LP more than an EP, so I’m making the call myself — has hooks a-plenty and gets playful on “Lion, Sword and Sun” without sounding like a ’60s put-on or something like that, each inclusion establishing its own atmosphere while adding to the admittedly understated breadth of the whole. It’s a weird one, to be sure, but for those who can make their way to its wavelength, the songs will stick to whatever membranes you got.
Mike Bee & The Acid Fuzz Trio website
Mike Bee & The Acid Fuzz Trio on Instagram
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Teké Collective, Remember and Hope
Teké Collective would seem to be one of several projects under the operating umbrella of Milan, Italy, producer Marino-Angelo Scordilis, and on the new single “Remember and Hope” (7:18), the Collective features no fewer than seven other contributors, including True Canyon‘s spoken word in the second half and a variety of synth and percussion. It is exploratory but aware of the influences from which it draws, and winds up as a kind of world-prog rock. There are psychedelic aspects but it’s too clearheaded to be lysergic, and with all the tight funk in the first half of the song, reminds a bit of earlier P-Funk‘s ability to go anywhere it wants, though the stylistic context here is different. Texture in the two guitars and synth take hold early, but it’s the bass that carries it through the midsection into the slowdown, and the story — a narrative about the power of memory to overcome oppression — is fluidly told with a sense of joy rather than mourning something lost, even though it is that too. There’s a lot packed into one seven-minute single, but it works.
Marino-Angelo Scordilis on Bandcamp
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Carson, When Gods Know Why
This record came out almost a year ago, so what am I doing reviewing it now? Well, here’s a friendly reminder that music doesn’t have an expiration date, and that I’m only one person and I’m a human being, some stuff is gonna slip by. But with Carson bringing enough hooks and fuzz for the whole class, it seemed like engaging with the eight songs of their confident, strident third full-length, When Gods Know Why, was its own excuse for doing, so there you go. Following 2022’s The Willful Pursuit of Ignorance (review here) with memorable burners like “Engine Down” and the melody-forward grungier twist of “Snow White,” the careening desert rocker “Marion Morrison,” the post-Truckfighters shove of “Drip,” and so on, the Lucerne, Switzerland, three-piece are a reminder of the moving power of heavy rock and roll, and I mean that both physically and in the energetic atmosphere wrought throughout the album all the way up to the blowout at the end of “Only for the Scorned.” Increasingly, they’re a name you can trust. Sorry to have missed this last September. Not sorry to be caught up now.
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Buzzard, Hillbilly Fuckery b/w Appalachian Blood Bourbon
Polling social media to effect a vox populi, Massachusetts doom folker Buzzard asks the query of our times — “what the fuck?” — over and over again in “Hillbilly Fuckery,” presented in the original and extra-crispy extended versions on this three-songer two-songer, joined with the narrative “Appalachian Blood Bourbon” as the heavy fuzz flows with Christopher Elliott in call and response verses carrying the energy of the song prior (and after), more than filler as complements go, but shorter and somewhat overtaken by all the voices surrounding. The banjo — a regular feature in Buzzard‘s work as the project has taken shape over the last couple years — carries the rhythm along with slide guitar and lumbering, weighted tone, and “Appalachian Blood Bourbon” pairs well for that, its lyrics calling out Hungarian vampires moving to Kentucky and founding an LLC. Buzzard has already announced a Fall LP release, Hush Now, and this as well as other recent singles will feature as CD bonus tracks, which is reasonable considering how much obviously went into their making, answering as well as asking that central question.
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Illwind, The Unfolding at the End of Light
Beginning with the 10-minute atmospheric doom clarion “Crimson Skies,” The Unfolding at the End of Light is the debut album from Peruvian four-piece Illwind, which features current and former members of Reino Ermitaño, Arcada, Argul and Death Invoker, and it arrives with a sense of self accordant to the storied pedigree of its component players. Heavy as buildings and modernly grim of mood, the six-song/47-minute paean finds a balance with (relatively) uptempo fare like the shorter, daring-toward-swing “Portal” before digging back in for “God of Sleep” — note the dreamy part in the second half — and 13-minute finale “Lucifer’s Mule,” which shifts from its acoustic guitar/sample intro to a lumbering procession that’s as spacious as it is consuming. But the inclusion of a bonus cover of The Stooges ultra-classic “Now I Wanna Be Your Dog” — inarguably one of the greatest riffs of all riffy time — bringing it into their established-by-then stylistic context, blowing it out, and capping with an assault of feedback and noise. Lifesblood, this is.
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Spiral Galaxy, II
Forgive me speaking personally for a bit, but there are some records that I just feel lucky to have heard. I don’t think you get to be a blogger for 17-plus years without making some seriously questionable life decisions, but I feel validated in the slacker-stoner/domestic-boheme lifepath I’ve apparently chosen hearing II from Chicago terracosmos explorers Spiral Galaxy, whose bridge between effects drone and organic elements reminds of pocket highlights like Montibus Communitas while singing praise to nature with otherworldly sounds. Wholly immersive, welcoming and warm, even with the building thud of “Wir Fur Sea,” II comes across as ceremonial for more than just the rampant flute, and unflinching in the beauty it captures, with “Future Fauna” taking place across its own bed of psych drone and the brief conclusion “Umbra” as a goodbye that feels all too soon. I missed this band’s 2020 debut. Clearly I need to go back and rectify that, but first I’ll just go ahead and put II on my list of this year’s best albums, with the acknowledgement that any kind of temporal placement is selling short its reaches.
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Gurt, Survival of the Shittest
If you’ve ever wondered what Gurt‘s pummeling party sludge might sound like adopting grooves from Powerman 5000 and collaborating with a rapper — and if you have, kudos on your hyperspecific curiosity — the three-and-a-half-minute “No Limit” on the London outfit’s three-song Survival of the Shittest has your answer. The purposeful-in-their-yuck troupe have been at this at least 15 years now and they know with what they’re fucking. EP opener “Live Nation, Dead Scene” (2:49) feels rooted in extreme metal but still finishes with a massive, rolling riff, and the centerpiece title-track — you know they’re English because “shit” is a relative noun, as in “a bit shit”; in US English that’s “Shittiest,” which is clearer but doesn’t sound as fun — takes the violence-of-impact up another notch ahead of the playful-if-you-know-they’re-goofballs nu-metal delve. Gurt don’t owe anyone anything at this point musically — no doubt they’re racked with actual-debt like everyone else — but they’re pretty obviously still having fun crushing and gnashing as they are. Does that make them survivors? Are they the shittest? I don’t know, but they go upside your head hard enough to make you forget to ask.
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Crumbling Ghost, Four
As to what’s stopping Four — the first release in a decade from UK five-piece Crumbling Ghost — from being neofolk, the answer I think is mostly down to the lack of pretense and the heavier tones surrounding the rootsy vocal melodies. The seven-track offering finds itself embracing shades, hues, spirits, whatever-you-want-to-call-them from post-heavy and the ambience is crucial as “Bows of London” and “Bill Norrie” set the 36-minute LP forth, the latter bringing in the max-heft end of their dynamic range that the later “The Unquiet Grave” will use as a whole-album crescendo, but while “Wassail” is noisier and “Lovely Joan” is like a medieval heavy strut, the key is in their ability to change their approach from one piece to the next without letting go of the folkish vocals overarching. Thus they can get as heavy as they want — and do — and “Last of All Sleep” doesn’t have to feel discordant in its move from acoustics to a grunge wash and “Valtz Efter Tor Lohne” resonates as cohesive even as an instrumental. I don’t know their history or where they’ve been for 10 years, but the combination of atmospheric heavy and folk they harness here is markedly their own.
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Purest Form, Resistance
Danceable and violent in kind, Los Angeles industrial metal trio Purest Form present the six-song/15-minute Resistance EP ahead of appearing at Chicago’s Cold Waves Festival next month. “Beyond Terror” hints in its “Reptile”-y procession toward some underlying Nine Inch Nails influence, but there’s some aspect of retroism about the band’s aggressive take, vocalist Story providing the bite corresponding to the chug of “Animal” and the otherwise drum’n’bass-ish shove of “Bass Resistance” a short time later. This ’90s-informed take finds its ultimate fruition in the concluding cover of The Prodigy‘s “Breathe,” which from what I read is a staple of live sets. Fair enough, but its in the frenetic charge of “Move” that Purest Form demonstrate more what they’re bringing of themselves to push beyond their influences, and as brash as their sound is, one hopes that continues to evolve as they move forward. Intensity and immediacy are assets working in their favor, though, here and on their past EPs.
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Tags: Buzzard, Buzzard Hillbilly Fuckery b/w Appalachian Blood Bourbon, California, Cardinal Fuzz Records, Carson, Carson When Gods Know Why, Chicago, Crumbling Ghost, Crumbling Ghost Four, Essex, Feeding Tube Records, Four, Gurt, Gurt Survival of the Shittest, Hillbilly Fuckery b/w Appalachian Blood Bourbon, II, Illinois, Illwind, Illwind The Unfolding at the End of Light, Italy, Lima, London, Los Angeles, Lucerne, Massachusetts, Mike Bee & The Acid Fuzz Trio, Milan, New Heavy Sounds, Personal Records, Peru, Purest Form, Purest Form Resistance, Relapse Records, Remember and Hope, Resistance, Rituals of Shame, Sixteentimes Music, Spiral Galaxy, Spiral Galaxy II, Summer 2026 Quarterly Review, Survival of the Shittest, Switzerland, Teké Collective, Teké Collective Remember and Hope, The Unfolding at the End of Light, UK, Warning, Warning Rituals of Shame, When Gods Know Why
