It’s been a couple days by now, but I didn’t want to let any more time pass before I marked the 16th anniversary of the site. I don’t have a specific day — it’s “end of January” n my head — because putting the site together was kind of a weekend project with Slevin, who very kindly installed WordPress, registered the domain, and helped set me up so I could login and roll as I’ve done nearly every day in the 16 years since. I guess by “with” there I meant he did all the work and I sat nearby, clueless. At least that’s how I remember it.

16 years.

This post isn’t about today, but I can’t ignore my present circumstances as relevant to the discussion. I’m writing from the airport in Las Vegas, sitting at the gate after spending the last four days basking in music and communal vibes at Planet Desert Rock Weekend V. I just spent one of the best weekends I’ve ever had, hanging out with old friends and new and enjoying bands I’ve never seen before, enriching my life with hugs and riffs alike.

A lot has changed in heavy music since The Obelisk started, and there’s no question in my mind that the international heavy underground is stronger than I’ve ever seen it. And I feel so astonishingly lucky to be aware of it since it still exists in this pocket universe outside the mainstream. To me, this makes it more precious and more a thing worth preserving, evolving as hopefully it will continue to do as a new generation of bands continues to come up and make their mark over the next few years.

Thank you if you’ve followed this site for any stretch of time in the last 16 years. People come and go, of course, but doing this site has allowed me to meet and spend time with countless excellent humans worldwide I’d never otherwise know, and I don’t take that for granted. It’s all part of the adventure, right?, but what I’ve found over time especially in the last few years since the pandemic is that by and large the heavy underground is on its own side.

Am I talking about “scene unity” in an Obelisk anniversary post? Give me a second to pull my head out from up my own ass and I’ll finish the thought. The truth of the matter is I think there are very few, whether it’s in bands, labels, promotional concerns, fans, fests, bookers, etc. — everybody who contributes to THIS THING one way or another, and I believe that everybody who’s part of it contributes — who don’t by 2025 know the deal.

This kind of heavy music, whether you call it stoner, or heavy rock, or psych and prog and doom and noise and sludge and whatever else you want to throw in the pastiche, is never going to break. Bands will get through to broader popular culture, one or two a generation, like early Queens of the Stone Age, but “the scene” is never going to be “the thing.”

And I don’t believe in blessings, but what a blessing that is. It belongs to the people who make it and engage with it. Even when there’s a label involved in the band-fan transaction, there is no intermediary. Everyone is there for love. That’s not universal — somebody out there thinks he’s gonna get rich off his riffs; probs not, chief — but passion is the impetus that underscores so much of what happens in the international heavy underground right now, including this site as I hope comes through, and apart from my marriage it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever been so fortunate to be part of.

So thank you. Inevitably. Thank you for reading, for coming along with me here, for saying hi at the show, any show. For sharing your opinion of a thing I wrote. For finding a fucking typo! Thank you for finding typos! Not only does that tell me you’re reading, but that you give a fuck about this. I do too, I’m just not a perfect typist. So thank you.

I have a list of people I could rattle off, whether it’s press contacts I’ve known for 20 years or dudes like Tony Treetops who I met this past weekend. People are on board for promoting and sharing what they’ve found with each other, and because this happens, and because it happens in a spirit of friendship, community, and again, passion, it is a beautiful foundation for so many relationships.

The Obelisk will continue. I’ll be here. I’m around. But I’ve always said it won’t last forever, and there might come a day where I need to stop to protect my family, but right now I’m here and I value this moment writing this post sitting in friggin’ Harry Reid Airport thinking about what this site’s become in 16 years and wondering where it might still go. 20? I’m 43 now. Will I still want to do The Obelisk at 50? 55?

Not a question I can answer, and that seems all the more reason for me to treasure what it is while it is. Thank you for making that worth doing.

Onward with love,
JJ Koczan

LV NV
02.03.25

I have to admit, I feel a little silly. This post should have been written to go up yesterday. In my defense, I’ll note that it was an extraordinarily busy weekend, involving monster trucks and family birthdays and a brunch and everything. But either way, yeah, I let it slip, and it wasn’t until I was tagged in a post in The Obelisk Collective on Facebook that I even realized, egads, Michael Jones was right! It is The Obelisk’s birthday, as of this past weekend. To think, I even hung out with Slevin — who built the site those 14 years ago — on Sunday. He was the brunch. Go figure.

To tell you the truth I’ve been pretty disoriented generally. Just kind of one-day-at-a-timing it, and I completely lost track of what the date was. I know, it’s right in the corner of my laptop screen, but I also got an email yesterday canceling jury duty that I wasn’t even thinking about yet because it wasn’t until something like Feb. 2 and that was eons from now. So I got to realize what week it was and not have to go to jury duty, and it’s The Obelisk’s birthday. The wins just keep coming.

The point of this post is to say thank you for your support of The Obelisk. Whether that’s commenting on a post (mostly it isn’t, I know) or sharing something on this or that social, being in the above-linked group, buying merch or sending music or even just reading once, forgetting the site exists for like three weeks, then reading again. Or reading every day. Or not. I don’t know. Thank you.

I don’t have any grand plans to reveal. More work? I know the Sandrider and REZN albums are killer if you want to do a top two of 2023 so far list, which I honestly thought about doing just as a joke making fun of basically my own lists let alone those of anyone else. But beyond that and what’s in my notes for the rest of this week and down the line in the calendar, I don’t know. I hope to travel this year. I’ll be at Freak Valley in June and Høstsabbat in Oslo in October. I’ve got my eyes on Heavy Psych Sounds Fest in March in Joshua Tree, but we’ll see. Monolith on the Mesa this year is a maybe if I can make it happen. Always love to be at Maryland Doom Fest when I can.

There have been a couple other invites — one to Iceland for Doomcember, which I was stoked on but couldn’t go this past December; one to Bear Stone in Croatia which I would fucking LOVE to do but for the camping because the bands are good, the people seem awesome and the vibe is right, but I’m no camper — that are kind of nebulous, and I suppose on some level driving the two hours with traffic to New York is supposed to be more convenient than flying to Germany, but I’ve sat at the Holland Tunnel in my life and legitimately been convinced otherwise, never mind actually driving in the city, which I’ve never particularly enjoyed. Gonna get my ass there for Desertfest though, I’ll tell you that.

That kind of travel will probably be the bulk of the shows I see this year, which is odd but just kind of how my life is organized at this point. Speaking of organized, I’ve got 175 emails waiting in my inbox, and, well, not everybody’s gonna get an answer. I hope you understand that even if I don’t go to every show, or review every record, post every press release and Bandcamp or social media update, or interview every band — or any bands beyond Questionnaires — that I’m doing my best. I’m trying to make this site a thing worth coming back to — for me, every day. For you, once if I’m lucky?

I won’t dismiss the amount of effort it is doing this. It takes up a significant portion of my time and brain capacity. My life would be easier without it, in many ways. Not trying to play Johnny Martyrblog, but I think it’s fair for me to say that running The Obelisk takes a lot of work. I’m doing my best to do as much as I can, all the time.

14 is cool. 15 will be cooler. We’ll get there. I’ll set a reminder in the calendar so I don’t let it slip, and hope to thank you again then.

All the best in the meantime,

JJ Koczan

Thank you.

Might as well say what I want to say first and in bold. That’s what it boils down to, really. Thank you.

It was 13 years ago this past weekend (I always celebrate the last weekend in January) that the esteemed Slevin, a good person and friend of long-standing even then, laid out the back end of this site in WordPress, installed the theme, registered the domain and all that. Left to my own devices, The Obelisk probably never would’ve happened. I get a lot of ideas. Very few of them ever come to fruition. Let me tell you about wanting to sell homemade specialty nut butters at the Denville Farm Market. Anyhow, 13 years after the fact, I still consider The Obelisk a work in progress, but it’s humbling to think of all it’s brought into my life. Music, people, experience.

The Obelisk colors everything I do. It’s a part of me. If I write a review and I don’t feel like I said what I wanted to say, or if there’s something I need to get caught up on, I’m intolerable. Just ask The Patient Mrs., who has watched over the last 13 years as this thing has become such a monumental piece of my everyday. I get out of bed for it. I did this morning. Even beat the alarm. It’s not always easy, and it’s not always fun — what is? — but the satisfaction I get from it is existential. I need it.

Thank you for reading. I promise you that without your support I’d probably have dropped the thread a long time ago, whereas last month I felt pretty guilty not getting posts up for a couple days before Xmas while I was doing my year-end coverage behind the scenes (gotta remember to put up a placeholder post if the same thing happens this year; a couple people mentioned the post-less days). Seeing folks on social media wearing Obelisk merch, or just liking posts and commenting, commenting here — there are comments here, you know! — sharing stuff, talking about music in the FB group, all of it is astounding. I break my ass working on it, but a lot of people work hard for a lot of things. I recognize that I am deeply, deeply fortunate to have the community support I do. It means everything.

This is important to me. If it’s important to you too, even a little as a part of your day of thumbing through the internet, or if you stumbled on it because of a track premiere at some point, or whatever, any of it, thank you. It’s a small thing — a niche within a niche within a niche; a microgenre of music that just happens to also be a microcosm of sounds — but it’s become my own place where I go as much as I can, and honestly, if I told you how much time of the day I spend thinking about The Obelisk, you’d laugh.

I’ll stop soon, but bottom line is the same as the top one. Thank you.

Behrang, Slevin, Wendy, Pamela, Joseph, Suze, Cate, Vadim, all the labels and PR and everyone who sees these words. Please know your time is much appreciated.

More to come.

Love,
JJ Koczan

Happy 12th birthday to this weird, rinky-dink little project called The Obelisk.

I was not thinking longevity when I started this site, the first post going live on Jan 31, 2009 according to the oh-so-detailed-and-no-I-didn’t-make-it Wikipedia page. Maybe I should’ve been.

My first two years in college, I was in business school. I couldn’t hack it. I was more miserable than usual. Changed majors. When I had jobs, I worked in offices. I knew good people, but it always felt like I was pretending to be someone else. Putting on a costume of someone invested in making a boss more money, like it really mattered to me.

Even working for magazines. I had great times and took advantage of many awesome opportunities, but there was always a kind of nagging feeling behind it that I didn’t belong there. Apparently I belonged here.

I don’t think I’m giving away state secrets when I say this last one has been the hardest year running this site. It was the hardest year for everything. And I’m not the only one who’s greatly missed the connection to the ethereal that live music represents in my life, but knowing that doesn’t do much to get me through the afternoon. I haven’t been sick, if that even matters anymore — and I’m not sure it does — but I’ve watched as a global pandemic has reshaped our experience of art and culture, as well as things like work and interaction. Though honestly, I felt a little ahead of the game on that last part anyway. I was on the couch in my pajamas before it was cool.

It leads me around to what I want to say to mark 12 years of this site, and it’s what I always want to say: thank you.

As the roiling shitshow that was 2020 has given over to the only-slightly-different roiling shitshow that 2021 seems to be thus far, I want to emphasize how much your continued support of this work in progress means to me. Me. I am a person. My name is JJ. I live in New Jersey. Hi. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for every single read, share, like, comment, email, whatever it is. Thank you.

Thanks to my wife, The Patient Mrs., and to my son, The Pecan. Thanks to my mother and sister and mother in law, to Slevin and Behrang, and everyone else who at one point or another has allowed me the time to find myself in this. Thank you to the record labels, the promoters, the PR professionals, the bands, artists and fans who are like, “hey man you should check this out it’s rad okay thanks.” All of it supports this site. Thank you.

I’ll keep it short. I don’t know what 2021 will bring. Maybe by this time in 2022 we’ll all be back at gigs like nothing ever happened. Doesn’t seem likely, but that’d be cool. But in this mysterious and often troubling future, your ongoing support of this site means the universe to me. There are many, many days where it’s what gets me out of bed in the morning, and some days where I don’t even leave bed because I roll over at 4AM and post something for Europe from my phone.

But either way, this has become a deeply personal work for me, and from the depths of everything I am, I want to express my appreciation for your being a part of it.

Thank you.

Sincerely,
JJ Koczan

So here we are, 11 years later. Maybe Monday would be better for me to mark the 11th anniversary of starting The Obelisk, but the first post was Jan. 31, 2009, so while I’ve got the day I’ll take it. Thanks for reading.

That’s really all I want to say. You can probably go about your business now. I mean, the big deal was last year, right? 10! Such a satisfyingly round number. Nobody ever decided to base an entire number system on 11. It just kind of hangs there on the edge of puberty. You can’t do a damn thing with it. You ever meet an 11-year-old? They’re greasy and they smell. It’s a hard point in life to be a human being. You want to tell them it gets better, but does it?

So yeah, the site’s 11. Cool. I said last year I wanted to change the theme. I didn’t change the theme. At some point I said changes were coming to the forum. They didn’t really. The radio is still streaming and that makes me happy, but things are proceeding otherwise as naturally as they can. I’m writing as much as I can. That’s why I’m here. The music too, obviously — I should hope so — but really for me it’s the writing. That’s what I need most in the day. Any day. Every day at this point. Even though I’m not posting on the weekends, I’m usually writing. Klacky klacky klacky on the keyboard. That’s how it feels rightest. Write write write, go go go. Head down, keep working.

I am constantly honored, humbled and occasionally humiliated by the amount of support this site receives. Thank you.

In the last week I’ve had three professionals with whom I’ve worked for well longer than the 11 years of The Obelisk’s existence compliment the work I do here. Now, a part of public relations is maintaining relationships with contacts, but at this point, I know these people, and the relationship is solid — i.e., they didn’t have to say anything at all and they did anyway. My perspective on the site is so personal on the day-to-day — it’s about how many hours do I have and how can I best use them to write as much as possible — that I really have no idea what people might think of it generally or if it’s a consideration at all. I’m pretty separate from that stuff. But people say nice things sometimes and it’s awkward but appreciated.

So while 11’s just a stop on the way to the next divisible-by-five stop, I’m grateful to have the chance to say thank you again for being a part of this project which I guess has kind of become my life’s work at least to this point. I’m 38, so provided I don’t get hit by a bus there’s time to do more if I want to or can, but on the rare occasions I let myself be, I’m proud generally of what The Obelisk has become. I don’t know. My family wears the hoodies around and stuff. The Pecan has one.

I want to say thanks to them — my family, The Patient Mrs., The Pecan — as well as to Slevin for setting up the site 11 years ago and continuing to understand how much it means to me in a way that I think a very small number of people do. There are also a few people in particular whose drive is a constant inspiration. In that regard, foremost thanks to Walter Hoeijmakers of Roadburn Festival, to Tony Reed, Gabe Fiori, the Sound of Liberation crew, Gero Argonauta, Todd Severin, Scott Hamilton, Vadim Dyadyuk, and far, far too many others. The labels, the PR folks, the bands themselves who support this site. Gimme Radio for hosting The Obelisk Show (new episode today!). Thank you so much.

And the biggest inspiration that gets me up with the alarm every morning is the fact that someone else out there might give half a crap about something I write, ever, anywhere, so thank you for that. You are amazing and I hope The Obelisk has been or continues to be something positive in your day as it (generally, ha) is in mine.

Okay that’s enough. I gotta go write another post.

Onward.

All love,
JJ Koczan

So I went earlier this month and got a tattoo. I’m 37 years old and it’s my first one. It’s a design by Sean ‘Skillit’ McEleny with a purple octopus wrapped around an obelisk that’s been pulled out of the ground from its base, and the octopus is holding up a sign that says ‘Thanks for Reading.’

It was done by Kaitlin Butler at EvolvInk in Morristown, New Jersey — right near the train station on the M&E line — and it’s my way of literally marking the 10 years of my life that have gone into this site. I wanted Skillit to do the design because he so excellently captured the gleeful vibe of the All-Dayer poster in 2016 and that was the feeling I wanted. Something happy. He nailed it, as did Butler in bringing it to life on the inside of my right forearm.

I’ve named the octopus Petunia, by the way, like from Pete and Pete. I make it dance for The Pecan and he loves it.

Over the last couple months, I’ve thought long and hard about what I want to say in this post. Probably too long, and definitely too hard. It always comes back to thank you. That is primary. That’s everything. Thank you. If you want, you can stop reading now, because as long as you’ve seen that, I’m satisfied. Thank you. 10 years of this site would not have happened without your support. Thank you.

The first post here went up Jan. 31, 2009. Very clearly I had no idea what I was getting into, but over the last decade, The Obelisk has come to consume so much more of my identity than I ever could’ve known it would. I didn’t do the meme that was the 10-year challenge, but I’ve done a lot of reflecting on it and while there are some things I’d change — the site’s had the same theme for 10 years! 10 years! One theme! Come on! — I stand by everything here. The early snark, the fact that I spent all of 2013 being pissed off at the move to digital promos and all of 2014 being the wordiest bastard on the planet, all of it. It’s all me. The experiments that worked, the experiments that didn’t work. All the stuff that I did that reminded me just how much the only thing I’ve ever really wanted to do is write. It’s all here, and I know sometimes on the internet it’s hard to see words on a screen and imagine a person writing them, but to me, these words are mine. I own them. And I feel that way about everything here. For the last 10 years. And just for today, maybe just for this post, I’m going to let myself be proud of that.

I don’t expect that to last.

Thank you for reading.

Thank you to The Patient Mrs. for her seemingly unending support. I don’t think she’s always understood, but she’s certainly done more than her fair share of indulging, and this never would’ve happened without her. Thank you to Slevin for his ongoing technical expertise and get-your-ass-in-gear-ness. Changes are coming to the forum, though there’s something of a debate about what that looks like, but if Slevin didn’t give a crap, nothing would get done. Thanks to the incredible and strong women I’m lucky enough to call my family — Pamela, Suze, Cate, Sam, Sage — as well as to the gentlemen who make me aspire to be a better person — Andy, Walker, Emmett, Tyler, and especially the Pecan.

Thanks to the several good friends I’m fortunate enough to have. Thanks to Walter Hoeijmakers, who 10 years later continues to inspire with his passion and creativity. Thanks to Liz Ciavarella-Brenner for helping bring my own passion for music into focus. Thank you to Steve Murphy for the ongoing reality checks. Thanks to Scott Harrington, Scott Hamilton, Todd Severin, Niels Bartholdy, Stefan Koglek, and all the labels and PR people and companies who have helped bring new music here on a constant stream I couldn’t possibly hope to keep up with. Thanks to Gimme Radio for having me, to Dropout Merch and Made in Brooklyn for handling that end of things, to Maryland Doom Fest for welcoming me and to all the other fests I’ve been to over the years. And again, thanks to you for reading.

For as long as I’ve loved anything, I’ve loved music. I was an awkward fat kid and 30 years later I’m an awkward fat adult, but whatever. I can still put on some record and get out of my own head for half an hour like I could when I was seven years old. I don’t memorize lyrics as easily as I once did, and of course my relationship to listening has changed, but that experience continues to be central to who I am, and this site has become a key part of that. Put your head down, keep working. We also just passed 9,000 likes on Thee Facebooks this morning, and I put up the 11,000th post last week, which was for acting as a presenter for the upcoming 1000mods Australian tour, which is the kind of thing I feel stupid lucky to be involved in.

I could go on and on and on. Really. I’ve gone back and forth for months in my head about how I wanted to approach this. Because this is it. This is my celebration — well, this and the tattoo. But after this, I’m not gonna mention it again. There’s no show, no self-aggrandizing celebratory compilation, nothing like that. I love writing. So there’s writing. I’m gonna finish this post and do another, and tomorrow I’m gonna close out the week like nothing happened. I still need to pick a record for that. Ah jeez.

But the point is that as I’ve approached the actual making of this post, I’ve been filled with ideas for discussion. The notion of self as product in a social media sphere. The idea of becoming your work identity. The pieces of ourselves we show others and what we keep private. This site as the defining work of my life. It’s all come into my head over the last however long — I’d say at least since last October and probably well before that — but now that I’m here, I don’t want to talk about any of it. I just want to say thank you.

So thank you. Thanks for reading.

Like Petunia says.

It’s been 10 years, and I still don’t know what’ll happen tomorrow or the next day, but we’re here, so thank you. I am grateful for and humbled every day by your support.

Sincerely,
JJ Koczan

Well, here we are. It took some nine-plus years, but The Obelisk has finally hit its 10,000th post. This, as it happens, is it.

I told The Patient Mrs. the other day it was coming up and she very reasonably asked me what I was doing to celebrate. My answer: I’ll probably put up a post with a big number 10,000 at the top of it, maybe throw in a “thanks for reading” and then go about my business. That’s pretty much what I plan to do. Today’s a pretty busy day.

But before I dig into the rest of it, I just need to take a quick second and of course say thank you to everyone who has made this possible over this succession of years. The Patient Mrs. first and foremost. My family. To Slevin. My friends and the people in bands and readers who’ve become my friends. The label and PR folks. I’m crass and impatient and opinionated to a fault, and accordingly not the easiest person to get along with. To anyone who’s ever reached out to send me a record to review or even just to hear — “Hey man, I don’t even need a review, I just want you to listen if you have time” — thank you.

And it’s kind of become a tagline at this point, but really, thank you for reading. I’m going to try to be merciful and keep this short, but it means so, so, so much to me to think that when I put something like this out there into the vast ether of the internet, it catches eyes. Maybe you don’t read every day. Maybe you think I suck at this and I’m a punk. Maybe you don’t even think about the fact that there’s a person behind this stuff, or you think there’s a staff of writers (nope: no staff), but please know how grateful I am for every comment, every share, every like, every retweet, every screenshot that shows up on Instagram. All of it. It’s everything to me at this point. As outlets go, it’s all I’ve got.

But rest assured, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. This past week, The Obelisk page on Thee Facebooks also passed 7,000 likes and my personal account, in addition to the 5,000 friends that’s the max they allow, also passed 2,000 followers. I’m over 3,000 on Instagram and coming up on that on Twitter too. Thank you for all of that as well.

Will there be another 10,000 posts? I don’t know. In nine years, I’ll be 45 years old. Not to say it couldn’t or wouldn’t happen, but I’ve said all along that I don’t know what the future will bring, and I still feel that way. This is still an ongoing project, and I guess it will be until it isn’t anymore. Whenever that is, I assume I’ll know.

Oh, and my only regret about the last 9,999 posts before this one? That more of them weren’t about how much Acid King kicks ass. Because, man oh man, Acid King kicks some ass.

Thanks so much for reading. We go onward. Head down, keep working.

All my best,
JJ Koczan

I’ve been trying to keep an eye over the last couple weeks so I didn’t miss this one. 9,000 posts. Let me spell that out: Nine. Thousand. Posts.

It is not a small amount of posts.

It’s taken me about eight and a half years to get to this point. Over that period, the pace of productivity has only increased — I feel bad about myself if I put up fewer than five posts in a day — and between reviews, interviews, news, videos, audio premieres, streams, the Radio, Quarterly Review roundups, the constant onslaught of bands with new releases, etc., etc., on and on, I’m still a long way from what I’d call “keeping up.” Still, I do the best I can, and as the site hits its 9,000th post, I just want to stop for a minute and thank you for being a part of this process.

Because it is a process. An ongoing one. In tone, content, execution and my own mindset, The Obelisk has become something completely different from what it set out to be. It’s something different than it was three years ago. I suspect, if I’m fortunate enough to keep it going for another three years, it’ll be something completely different then as well. But the consistent factor has been the level of support I’ve received for doing this. If you want to call it the heavy underground, or a community, or a scene, or whatever it is, it’s been very good to me and I deeply appreciate the level of interaction here and via social media — that’s not just me begging for comments, though they’re always welcome — and the conversation that has developed.

One time when I did an anniversary-type post like this I calculated how many posts per day was the average over the years. It may have been last year? I don’t know. I have neither the time nor the inclination nor the mathematical capacity to do so again either way, and more important than the quantity of the work to me is the fact that I stand by everything on this site. Opinions, facts, hell, even the choices of images and videos and audio to go with posts. All of it. I believe deeply in this — more deeply than I ever thought I would — and your participation in it has only made me treasure all the more what The Obelisk has become and is still becoming.

So as always, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

On to the next thing,
JJ Koczan

The Obelisk Forum

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