Okay, stay with me on this one. Way back at SHoD XI in 2011, I caught a band called Nagato from West Virginia who kicked my ass a more than fair amount and whose demo I grooved on thereafter. Dark, ambient, bluesy, really heavy and moody but without making a show of it. Good stuff that warranted a follow-up and hasn’t gotten one yet. Nagato were playing shows as late as June 2012, so what their status is, I’m not really sure.

In the meantime, though, guitarist/vocalist Paul Cogle — whose tone and delivery was a major source of my appreciation for what Nagato were doing — has put together a new project called Black Blizzard. Joining him (he’s the one right on the camera in the pic above) is Brooklyn-based drummer Ben Proudman. The two were formerly bandmates in the punk outfit Vox Populi and got going as Black Blizzard in the middle of last year, playing a show the same night they decided they were a band. Nothing like a quick start.

The duo have just put out their first release, a three-song EP called Broken Hands, Broken Hearts that sets a surprisingly diverse course in a short span of time. All told, “Light up the Night,” “Loss” and “Black Blizzard” top out around 16 minutes, but in that time, Cogle and Proudman move fluidly from rocking riffage and a catchy chorus offset by distorted crunch to sullen instrumental guitar minimalism with some obscured layers of noise low in the mix, rounding out with Conan-style low end on their eponymous closer, a tide of guitar leading the course for a build that might have been what Helmet turned into had they decided early on that they liked kicking ass and wanted to keep doing it. Vocals on the closer are wetter with reverb than on the opener and stand up to the thump and crash in the guitars and drums, leaving an impression though the track is still mostly-instrumental.

Broken Hands, Broken Hearts culminates with a vicious dug-in groove that gets louder before cutting out and though I don’t know how often they’re going to be able to get together for writing purposes — West Virginia to Brooklyn or vice versa is a long way to go for band practice — the material on the EP, like Nagato‘s demo, deserves subsequent explorations. Let’s hope it gets them. Until then, here are the three tracks in full courtesy of the Black Blizzard Bandcamp page, also available for a free download:

Caking a ’90s alternative influence in fuzz, heavy riffs and a gnarly feedback bent, Aussie heavy rockers Drifter unveil their gritty debut EP, Head, with few frills and a pervasive garage-type rawness. The five-song release is over in 13 minutes, so you know the Melbourne-area trio aren’t wasting much time getting down to business, and sure enough they don’t. Cuts like “I’ve Been Bad” and the punkier “Priest” run from point A to B, and even the crunchier, grunge-derived “Halo” keeps to a more or less basic structure and lack of pretense, leading into closer “So Long,” which reminds of something Nick Oliveri might have brought to the table in Queens of the Stone Age, filling out sound-wise in the chorus behind the half-screamed vocals of guitarist Dan King, bassist Scott Fraser and drummer Dave Payne.

Each of the five tracks ends in feedback, and it’s King‘s guitar leading the way for almost the entirety of the proceedings, but Drifter do find room to work some complexity into their approach and their style. It’s a jump in aesthetic from “Halo” to “Priest” that’s striking even with “All Over Town” between them, the latter working off an almost pop-punk progression to showcase its “take that, maturity”-type chorus while the former churns and builds a considerable tension in just a three-minute span while also proffering one of those in-spite-of-itself hooks that made grunge so powerful a pop force in the first place. In terms of the sheer fuzz, “All Over Town” might be my favorite track. King‘s riff is simple and the vocal cadence touches on Fu Manchu without ever going overboard. Like the EP as a whole, it’s also over before you know it.

That works though, since if Drifter started spacing out it would take away from the immediacy of their hooks and the punkish base they show on Head. The CD arrived in a creatively-folded sleeve with the recording info, tracklisting and a cartoon cover of caveman beardos in shorty-shorts, so it’s good to know that whatever else Drifter have going on, they’ve got a good sense of weirdness to match. Can only help them going forward, and in the meantime, they work a bit of that into the music as well. You can hear the tracks on Head by hitting up the Drifter Bandcamp or looking them up on Thee Facebooks. Here’s the EP in its entirety for your perusal:

A four-piece hailing from Romania, Methadone Skies waste no time busying themselves balancing ethereal post-rock noodling off heavier-ended psychedelic grooves. Periodically driving but never quite losing its focus despite an obvious jam-based ethic, their second album, Enter the Void, arrived in 2012 as a self-released sleeve CD preceding an allegiance with Sweden-based Ozium Records. The six-track offering sandwiches lengthy explorations with even lengthier explorations, the opening title-track topping out at 13:36 as the longest of the bunch (immediate points) while its closing companion piece, “Exit the Void” answers back at 11:54. Between, “Hyperspace,” “Long Day’s Journey into Night,” “Versus Evil,” and “Mudstar” tap into modern heavy psych ethics like they’re trying to bridge the gap between Russian Circles and Colour Haze. Frankly, it’s not a bad gap to bridge.

Both guitarists — Wehry and the more effects-laden Casi, who also handles keys — satisfy on a tonal level, with rich and warm fuzz that melds well with the echoing lead notes peppered throughout, as one can hear in the second half of “Hyperspace” on Enter the Void. The bass and drums provided by Mihai and Retea, respectively, are mostly relegated to a follower’s role, but  as “Hyperspace” slows to its finish and “Long Day’s Journey into Night” ensues, their presence is more than duly felt in the added heft to the capably executed instrumental builds, which seem to be as much about going from spaced-out to grounded as from calm to chaotic. It works, perhaps most of all on “Versus Evil” — the lead lines of which I’ll mark as the most memorable on the album — which finds its culmination after six minutes into its total 9:33 as the two guitars match step with the complex rhythm for a thickened, oddly-timed apex.

The level of noodling might be too much for some. They’re not exactly subtle about it. But for Methadone Skies‘ second outing behind 2010’s Explosions of the Sun, Enter the Void can offer an engrossing listen if approached with an open mind and willingness to go along with its hypnotic aspects. “Mudstar” is a bit crunchier, but “Exit the Void” re-ups the space elements and gives a solid tripout to close with, the leads taking a more active role early on with a cascading line only to give way later to thicker entanglements before ending with even more  echoing riffery and a surprisingly quick fade. One might have expected a long sustained echo or something like that, but I guess at 53 minutes in, Methadone Skies figured they’d said all there was to say. True enough, if you haven’t gotten the point by then, well, yeah.

Methadone Skies can be found upon Thee Facebooks, and Enter the Void is available for stream and purchase via Bandcamp, from whence this player comes:

Like many in the current crop of Swedish heavy bands, Stockholm-based Amaxa owe much of what they do directly to post-Sabbath early ’70s riffing, bands less given to outwardly stonerized lyrics or a focus on what would become doom. Organ shows up on their self-titled, self-released debut LP, but even when it picks up, “Shooting Star” is more psychedelic and thicker toned than you’d call what Deep Purple were doing at the time. They cite Mountain specifically and Swede-prog progenitors Kebnekajse, and I’m no one to argue, but it’s impossible to ignore the trailblazing bands like Graveyard, Witchcrat and Burning Saviours have done over the course of the last decade as well. Either way you look at it, Amaxa are playing off ideas that will be readily familiar to experienced listeners within the genre.

The band is comprised of guitarist Peter Pedersen, bassist Anders Broström, vocalist/organist Erik Broström and drummer Jimmy Halvarsson, and much of what might distinguish them among their peers in Sweden’s crowded retro set lies in the organ and how it’s used to play up prevailing psychedelics that come through alongside blues rock riffing and palpable tonal warmth while the production balances modern techniques and the already-stated retro aesthetic. Longest cut “Welcome in Sanity” meters out darker stomp, but even so keeps the pace moving centered around an undulating bassline from Anders and Jimmy‘s tense ride cymbal, both of which open wide in the chorus to the 6:19 track, which in turn has room in its second half for a sort of mini-freakout shuffle. At very least, Amaxa are schooled in the tenets of the sound they’re presenting on their first album.

Killer low-end is a regular feature throughout Amaxa‘s Amaxa, but “The Heartache of Philip Marlowe” belongs to Peter‘s guitar and to Jimmy‘s cowbell. Tonally, it’s some of the best fuzz Amaxa have on offer, and put to a start-stop groove in the verse that Erik matches in his vocals. The album ends with fitting swirl and some heretofore unheard melodic complexity, hinting of things to come maybe on future releases, and if nothing else, the fact that they self-released it and pressed to vinyl bodes well for a sense of professionalism to grow. Because apparently I have a Soundcloud account now and because Amaxa (also on Thee Facebooks here) posted the tracks there, here’s the full record:

Formed in 2011, the German five-piece Carrion Mother made their debut this fall with the self-released rumble of Koronis, a full-length demo recorded in their rehearsal space — obviously they’ve got one of those pro-type setups, since the three extended tracks sound better than a lot of records I get around here — in Regensburg. “Earth,” “Giver of Warmth,” and “Venus, Goddess” are embroiled in post-metal tonal crush and doomly lumber, driven by the dual guitars of Raffael D. and Julius K. and the varied screams and clean vocals of Aris S., who affects melodies and rhythmic shouts with apparent ease and knows when to step back and let the ambience hold sway.

And as one might expect for three tracks and a total 48:47, there’s no shortage of ambience. Carrion Mother aren’t as directly indebted to the Neurosis school of riffing, but one can hear a bit of Cult of Luna or maybe even some of Burst‘s thinking-man’s post-hardcore in the latter stretches of “Earth.” It’s largely the guitars responsible for setting the mood, while Fabian B.‘s bass and Joe W.‘s drums lock into complex but still flowing grooves behind. This frees up Raffael and Julius to meander as they will, and Aris to come and go in the manner of Rosetta‘s Mike Armine, able to both convey emotion and scream his lungs out when the song calls for it.

Each of the three tracks starts out soft before unveiling its full brunt, and as the longest, the opener would seem to show the most patience, but once it gets going — just before three minutes in — the intensity of riffing in “Venus, Goddess” more than makes up for any wanting ease in the transition. They build a tower out of that riff, Aris‘ vocals resting further back to let the unified chug come to the fore, and even when they break into the chorus, they hold onto the momentum propelling them forward. “Venus, Goddess” turns what seems like a bridge into a seven minute groove, adding on leads, slowdowns and rhythmic insistence to the core figure only to cap their debut outing with final comedown noodling, symmetrical to the start of each song, but hardly as adrenaline-inducing as the rush they hone at their most active.

Still, especially for a first release and a band who’s been around for a year, Carrion Mother‘s Koronis shows a more than firm grip on aesthetic and sets them up with any number of avenues for growth their next time out. At very least, it’s certainly worth a listen to the Bandcamp stream and all the instant gratification that might provide:

With a potent and natural-sounding mixture of desert groove and classic rock jangle, the mostly-German four-piece Iguana debuted earlier this year with Get the City Love You, a 10-track LP steeped in love of ’90s melodicism and post-Queens of the Stone Age lumber. That influence shows up particularly on cuts like “Vague as a Mirage” and “Get the City Love You,” which have some of the style of low-end push that made British outfit Crystal Head‘s first album so engaging earlier this year, but it’s only a sliver of the whole breadth of Iguana‘s work. Even the title-track isn’t so limited, winding up in a start-stop that reminds of Primus‘ “Wynona’s Big Brown Beaver” as well as the aforementioned desert thud.

Helping any grunge comparison you might want to make, vocalist Alexander Lörinczy (also guitar) boasts elements of classic Chris Cornell in his style, and though it’s an easy comparison to make, that winds up adding to the individuality of Iguana, since the music surrounding moves from the dreamy laid-back psych of “Morning Eve” to the Easternisms of “Madinat al Yasmin,” the early central figure of which I’d swear I’ve come across before either from Master Musicians of Bukkake or in one of Siena Root‘s endearing raags. “Madinat al Yasmin” moves into vaguely-doomed stomp, with Alexander May‘s bass featuring heavily in the mix alongside psychedelic leads and insistent riffing from Lörinczy and guitarist Thomas May. Even with two guitars, though, Get the City Love You doesn’t feel thicker than it should, keeping some space in the recording from the start of opener “New Moon Flyby,” which barely hints at the stylistic complexity to come, despite being a solid execution of Alice in Chains-style harmonizing.

There’s a lot to soak in on the 48-minute album, and after the eight-minute “Fukushima 50” — which boasts a circuitous rhythm that would make Fatso Jetson proud — the ensuing “Über-Idolizer” has a difficult task in distinguishing itself through a slower tempo. Nonetheless, Lörinczy‘s easy moves into and out of falsetto and drummer Robert Meier‘s bluesy kick drum make the track more than an afterthought, and a layered chorus in the penultimate “Down on You” ensure that the momentum carries into understated closer “Freshly Tranquilized,” which caps the promising debut with a warm instrumental build, no more or less sweetly-toned than anything Iguana has had on offer prior.

Get the City Love You was released in June on Sweet Home Records. Were it not for the fact that the two bands have already toured together, and so he’d obviously be aware of them, I might have sent their stuff on to Christian Peters from Samsara Blues Experiment for consideration of Iguana as a fit on his Electric Magic imprint. In any case, Iguana — who also had an EP out in 2008 — give themselves a solid foundation creatively here from which to cohere and build their next time out, and show a noteworthy range in their songwriting in the meantime.

They’re all over the internets — be it Thee Facebooks, Spotify, SoundCloud, their own site, iTunes, etc. — but I thought the video for “Morning Eve” from the album would be a good first impression for anyone not yet introduced. And wouldn’t you know it you can put videos on the internet now? What’s next, electronic mail?

Hope you dig it:

Lest you judge them by their overly-braided press shot, Ojai, California-based four-or-five-piece Pleasure make an immediate positive impression with unretrofied heavy ’70s muscle, freewheeling Soundgardenisms, desert-heavy jams and a sense that any of the four tracks on their debut For Your Listening… EP can go anywhere at any time. Easy grooves and chunky riffing meet with rhythmic nuance, echoing vocal soul and a richness of approach that goes beyond the individual influences from which they draw all seem to come around to the same point: Pleasure are on the right track and they got there awfully fast.

Comprised of four tracks, all topping six minutes and each named for its number in the running order, For Your Listening… starts chatting up your special lady almost immediately with “1,” getting underway with a classic groove one might expect from Sweden before Southern California, and soon enough the vocals show likewise Graveyard-style vigilance, though the guitars post-chorus are hookier and the vocals more assured and swaggering. Changes throughout the tracks, from loud to soft, builds to peaks, are pulled off with ease and the whole thing winds up with a distinctly Californian flow despite culling inspiration from a range of classic outfits, Sabbath being pivotal but by no means principle by the time “3” hits its lead-driven payoff.

Both Wes Wilson and Tony Melino did a stint on guitar in Annihilation Time — Pleasure is them plus Zach Doiron, Taylor Hellewell and Chris Everett — and the band continues to have an affiliation with Annihilation Time offshoot Lecherous Gaze to the point of playing a show together this Friday, Dec. 14 at Carpenteria & Linden Pub in Carpenteria, CA (more on that here), but sonically there’s little in common, as Pleasure hit on natural classic rock with engaging and accessible songwriting and an exciting but mostly unpunked energy. They formed in 2012 and For Your Listening… is their first release (though there are some other jams posted that are worth checking out), but hopefully it’s not too long before Pleasure check in with another installment, because the impression they make with these tracks goes beyond being a pleasant surprise and right into “I want to hear more of this right now.”

Pleasure are on Thee Facebooks here. Check out For Your Listening… on the player below, courtesy of their Bandcamp:

Aptly-titled and steeped in classic metal and punk, the First EP debut from Philly heavy bashers No Stayer is only about 12 minutes long, but that’s enough to give an indication of the sometimes bizarre range of influence from which they’re working. Solos rip in crisp, classic fashion and the central riff of A side “Undesired” is right out of the Judas Priest playbook of metallic swagger, but Pro-Pain-esque barks and gang vocals top the would-be hook of the chorus and as brash as they are, the trio have a pervasive sense of professionalism throughout both that track and “Forest by the Mountain,” which follows on side B.

That extends to the packaging of the 7″ as well, which comes in a high-quality matte cardboard sleeve with a thick-paper lyric sheet, also two-sided to mirror the vinyl itself. “Undesired” and “Forest by the Mountain” likewise show varied personalities — the latter’s speed-gallop riffing seems to come more from the early (of course) Metallica school of alcoholic frenzy, and while the vocals could very well wind up showing a Motörhead influence in the rhythm, they’re not quite there yet and so stay unipolar in their harsh throatiness. No Stayer claim a punk influence, and “Undesired” shows it more than “Forest by the Mountain,” but neither cut is out of place next to the other, and the B side culminates with a rushing solo and furious metallic drumming before returning to the verse/chorus progression.

As advertised, First EP is a first EP, but No Stayer have been around since 2009, and “Undesired” and “Forest by the Mountain” sound like they’ve been worked over and honed, either in a practice space or a live setting. The production value — tracks were recorded at Permanent Hearing Damage by Steve Roche this past summer — also greatly helps the sense of professionalism that comes through, and the packaging for the physical 7″ release only confirms it. They may just be starting out in terms of recording, but if Kvelertak were coming through, I’d go seeNo Stayeropen any night of the week, and likely spill some beer on myself in the process. Thrash on, gentlemen. Looking forward to more.

Here’s “Undesired” and “Forest by the Mountain” from the No Stayer Bandcamp page: