Posted in Reviews on January 28th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Guides for the Misguided is the 10th 16 full-length, and at least on paper, there are few mysteries about it. 16, as a group, have more than 30 years under their belt, and their sound is well established someplace between sludge, hardcore and metal, a malleable balance more often than not set to bludgeon. And the thing about the band at this point is if every couple years they wanted to churn out a collection of hard-hitting, probably-fast, probably-aggressive riffs and shouts, it would most likely be fine. The band would go through the motions, the fans who dig it would dig it, and the planet keeps spinning.
Fronted by founding guitarist Bobby Ferry, who assumed the mantle of lead vocalist for 2022’s Into Dust (review here) after Cris Jerue‘s departure following 2020’s Dream Squasher (review here), with lead guitarist/producer Alex Shuster, bassist Barney Firks and drummer Dion Thurman, 16 walk a harder line. Since coming back from a break between 2002 and 2009 with their first album for Relapse Records, 2009’s Bridges to Burn (discussed here), the band have not only been productive, but have charted a course of incremental, regular growth and progression that Guides for the Misguided puts into emphasis as the revamped dynamic of the band continues to shake out.
The core approach hasn’t changed. “Resurrection Day” gets very, very, very heavy by the time its five minutes are up, and the subsequent Bad Brains cover “Give Thanks and Praises” is only too happy to mop up what’s left afterward with punkish fervor. But for the first time, 16 feature some cleaner singing alongside the more familiar shouts, growls and rasps, and as ferocious as opening duo “After All” and “Hat on a Bed” are, the textures brought to pieces like “Blood Atonement Blues,” which follows, touches on horror cinema atmosphere and boasts a standout hook in the line “The dead’ll claim you,” as well as “Proudly Damned,” “Desperation Angel” and “Kick Out the Chair,” which is the only song on Guides for the Misguided over six minutes long and precedes a bonus Superchunk cover “The Tower,” are new for them.
Traditionally speaking, this is dangerous ground. A band who’ve been around for a long time, who are known for doing things a certain way, and so on. The truth is 16 have never been so pigeonholed, and even in their ’90s pill-popper sludgepunk yore, they were a tough act to pin down, and “Fortress of Hate” doesn’t make it any easier with its layering of clean and harsh takes, amid a telltale chug that is as characteristic an element as 16‘s sound has beyond the fact that so often their delivery is unified in having the force of a facebound hammer. I honestly don’t know if metal bands getting crap for trying to sing is a thing anymore, but it used to be.
A generation ago, people talked about bands selling out when stuff like that happened, but 16 aren’t stupid and if you hear Guides for the Misguided and think it’s the sound of a band who’ve ‘gone commercial’ — whatever that would even mean for heavy music in 2025 — then it’s a question of perspective. Who would 16 be selling out to? And for what? You think someone’s just waiting with a pile of cash to trade to a band of dudes in their 40s and 50s for their integrity as represented by harsh vocals?
Wouldn’t that be nice.
Instead, united around a familiar-enough anti-religious lyrical theme, 16‘s songs are simply able to do more than they were before. That’s true in the likes of “Proudly Damned,” which opens from its lumbering verse into a more open hook, setting up intertwining solos with harmonized dramatic melody as a preface for what’s to come in “Kick Out the Chair,” as well as in the plod-into-chug-charge in the unrepentantly catchy “Fire and Brimstone Inc.” — the chorus, “I came here believing in nothing/You reaffirmed my faith…” arriving a second time only after a suitable build is laid out, only to come back around again on the quick after the solo as the push to the finish. “Desperation Angel,” which is the shortest song at 2:40, is suitably frenetic but in-part melodic, and it’s probably the most efficient encapsulation on Guides for the Misguided of what the clean vocals add to the mix in terms of letting the band do new things, explore new sounds, and incorporate these ideas into their songwriting modus.
So, before you get to the actual particulars of 16, of Guides for the Misguided, what the album does and adds to the pantheon of the band’s catalog, on the most superficial level you have a band who’ve been around for 34 years who not only haven’t ‘settled’ in terms of their sound, but are actively pursuing new avenues of expression. It’s an admirable enough concept to be noteworthy, but that shouldn’t take away from the effectiveness of the material throughout. “Resurrection Day” — did I mention it gets very, very, very heavy? — gives over to the Bad Brains tune.
Following that rush, “Kick Out the Chair” — the guitar imagining a meeting between Scorpions and Crowbar that, sadly, never happened in our shithole timeline — gives about as much of a summary as Guides for the Misguided could ask, the doomed sensibility of the first several minutes holding firm in terms of atmosphere even as the riffs takeoff not to return, given a thick-rock epilogue in “The Tower,” which isn’t anything outlandish in terms of sound but is probably a song the band decided to do because they like it. 10 records in, one would not fault them digging a thing, even if it’s the likes of “Proudly Damned” and “Resurrection Day” and “Blood Atonement Blues” that’s most likely to result in repeat listens.
The word I haven’t said yet that I’m inevitably going to say is “underrated.” And yeah, part of what’s not being given its due here is the above — that 16 have been at this a long time and have never put out the same LP twice, never stopped looking forward, and never stopped being bold enough to actually try something after thinking of it — but whether you’re engaging from the point of view of the lyrics, the heft and impact of their tones, or the sort of nastyface epic groove they have a tendency to unfold at will, there’s really no getting around 16 as undervalued. Guides for the Misguided, with a familiar aggressive underpinning and a fresh sense of exploration and purpose, marks a step along a vibrant-if-destructive creative path. If you can get to it, it’ll bring you along. If not, it’ll be there waiting for the rest of the world to catch up.
Posted in Whathaveyou on January 7th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Okay, no surprise I’m like, “DERP NEW 16 OMG COOL,” because I’m a dork like that. I was lucky enough to be asked to do some bio writing for 16’s upcoming onslaught, Guides for the Misguided, some of which is kind of interspliced with the promotional text below, the quotes and such. I assume the rest sucked. Fine. I hadn’t interviewed Bobby Ferry before, but dude was a sans-bullshit riot as I kind of expected, and was thankfully amenable to letting me rant about how fucking undervalued I think his band is. Because they are.
Having served in a backing capacity for decades in addition to playing guitar, Ferry took over on lead vocals for 16‘s last album, 2022’s Into Dust (review here), and while much of the story since the now-San Diego-based band began their second run with Bridges to Burn (discussed here) has been about the incremental progression they’ve undertaken in that time — also dat chug! — Guides for the Misguided includes clean, melodic singing in a way Into Dust didn’t, and is so purposeful in the doing that, more than three decades from their outset, one can only stand, point a finger at 16 and accuse the band of trying new things. Perish the thought.
Don’t worry. It’s not too pretty. Actually, from where I sit, the cleaner vocals make 16 a stronger band, without question. Another tool in the shed, sure, but the expansion of their dynamic results in richer songs, in material that can cover more ground from its brutalist foundations, and in the case of Guides for the Misguided, it feels like a conscious change, but an organic one helping them to make the album what they want it to be.
You get a preview in the first single “Proudly Damned,” for which a video is streaming below. Don’t be scared. You can handle it. And if you don’t come out the other end looking forward to this record… well, that’s a position with which I respectfully disagree and I think it might be advisable for you to revisit it. Sorry to be so harsh.
More to come, but that’s enough for now. You get the idea. Here’s word from the PR wire. Video’s at the bottom. Don’t skip this band or be put off if you don’t know their work. I’m not fucking around when I tell you this will be on my year-end list for 2025. Yeah, I know January is a week old. See “dork like that” above.
Go:
-(16)- To Release Guides For The Misguided Full-Length February 7th Via Relapse Records; “Proudly Damned” Video/Single Now Playing + Preorders Available
Nearly thirty-five years on, -(16)- remains one of the most enduring, hardest sounding rock and metal entities from North America. The San Diego band redefines heavy on their new album, Guides For The Misguided, set for release on February 7th via Relapse Records!
Bobby Ferry returns at the helm as the band’s visceral vocalist and guitarist, and in true -(16)- fashion, belts out stories of pain and unhinged anguish. Standout tracks like “Proudly Damned” see the band playing at the crowd while Ferry shares tales of personal strife and depression: “To defile and offend/These are the demons found within/The sullen face of communion’s alarm/It’s an incentive to do more harm.” Ferry is absolutely seething while the band plows through a virulent mix of rock, metal, and sludge. Dion Thurman’s pounding drum set, Ferry and Alex Shuster’s heavier-than-anything-else guitars, and the lowest low end from bassist Barney Firks herald tones so low they’re nearly apocalyptic.
1. After All 2. Hat On A Bed 3. Blood Atonement Blues 4. Fortress Of Hate 5. Proudly Damned 6. Fire And Brimstone Inc 7. Desperation Angel 8. Resurrection Day 9. Give Thanks And Praises (Bad Brains cover) 10. Kick Out The Chair 11. The Tower (Bonus Track – Superchunk cover)
-(16)- frontman Bobby Ferry comments on Guides For The Misguided, “The album came together after we wrapped the final mix of our last one, Into Dust. It’s all about harnessing creative momentum when it strikes and we’ve been in a kind of creative autopilot for about a decade. When inspiration is there, the rest seems to fall into place effortlessly. Thankfully, we’re still driven to write and perform even after all these years. There’s no grander meaning behind it than simply following that primal urge to create — put your head down and just make something.
“Age has of course given us a fresh perspective,” he continues. “In the eight years since Lifespan Of A Moth, our lineup has shifted. We lost a singer, gained Alex Shuster on lead guitar/producer, and I slid into the lead vocalist rhythm guitarist spot. Lyrically, we’ve moved beyond the personal and inward grievances of our earlier work and embraced broader themes of conflict, like the hypocrisy of religion and its negative effects on the psyche.
“There’s a song called ‘Blood Atonement Blues’ that delves into the story of Ervil LeBaron, often referred to as the ‘Mormon Manson,’ while ‘Proudly Damned’ explores addiction and how it turns into a Pagan Ritual with a witch-like character posing as the opiate – both in substance abuse and the spiritual realm – in parallel. In many ways, this album might be the closest we’ve come to creating a concept record. Including the two covers on the album is meant to lessen this heavy hand and lighten the focus.
“Musically, we are still grasping for the perfect riffs married to the most ideal arrangements. We’re not afraid to lean into the stuff we love: noise, classic rock, hardcore, doom metal, and thrash. We are well aware we are not reinventing the wheel but lovingly fashioning something from us and basically for us, first and foremost.”
Guides For The Misguided closes with the soberingly titled “Kick Out The Chair.” While the track sounds like a culmination of a thirty-five-year career, the band shows no signs of stopping; although the road ahead looks bleak, -(16)-‘s unrelenting trajectory continues upward.
-(16)- Live: 1/31/2025 Scumm – Pescara, IT 2/01/2025 Pippo Stage – Bolzano, IT 2/02/2025 Freakout – Bologna, IT 2/03/2025 Altroquando – Zero Branco, IT 2/04/2025 Vintage Industrial – Zagreb, HR 2/05/2025 Explosiv – Graz, AT 2/06/2025 Kabinet Muz – Bmo, CZ 2/07/2025 Liverpool Club – Wroclaw, PL 2/08/2025 Rockhouse – Salzburg, AT 2/09/2025 7er Club – Mannheim, DE 2/10/2025 V11 – Rotterdam, NL 2/11/2025 Gasttatte Ziller – Goppingen, DE 2/13/2025 Kuudes Linja – Helsinki, FI 2/14/2025 Raindogs House – Savona, IT 2/15/2025 Blah Blah – Torino, IT
– 16 – is: Bobby Ferry: Guitar, Vocals Alex Shuster: Lead Guitar Barney Firks: Bass Dion Thurman: Drums
Posted in Whathaveyou on November 4th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
I have to think that if the Saint Vitus Bar still existed in its prior incarnation, the Dec. 8 NYC date below for 16‘s upcoming quickie Northeastern run wouldn’t be TBA. Unless that’s something special, like a fest or something, and it’s going to be revealed as the impetus for the tour. I don’t by any means know everything that happens in New York, and 16 can play on a death metal bill or a stoner rock bill and plenty in between and that opens up even more options for them in general, but yeah, I think maybe New York just doesn’t have that epicenter, anchor venue anymore as a place that knows, loves and values heavy fare, and the city is weaker for it, as many clubs as there still are out there. Maybe there’s a thing that day, maybe there isn’t. I don’t know. You guys wanna come play Jersey? We could find a spot I’m sure someplace.
16 come east in supporting Into Dust (review here), which came out in 2022 on Relapse and is the latest in a string of crater-worthy thuds the Los Angeles-based noise-sludgers have offered through the label. They’ll be out with False Gods, who are a fitting Eastern Seaboard complement to 16‘s onslaught, and I have no doubt that as much impact as Wallingford, CT’s Cherry Street Station has taken over the years — that place has hosted heavy enough shit that you’d want to check the structural integrity of the building’s foundation — it will be a rad spot to be bludgeoned by this pairing. All of these shows are at minimum an hour from me, and the closest is the currently theoretical one, but a ride to Bensalem might be in order, depending on how that NYC date pans out. Fingers crossed there.
From social media:
A few December dates.
12.04 Broken Goblet Brewing Bensalem PA 12.05 Alchemy Providence RI 12.06 Cherry Street Station Wallingford CT 12.07 Quarry House Tavern Silver Spring MD 12.08 TBA NYC
– 16 – is: Bobby Ferry: Guitar, Vocals Alex Shuster: Lead Guitar Barney Firks: Bass Dion Thurman: Drums
The first thing the record tells you to do is quit. “Throw in the towel/Wait for the sequel” is the hook and title line for “Throw in the Towel,” and lyrics so efficiently encapsulating a perspective aren’t easy to come by. It’s not about fighting back, or overcoming a thing, or manufacturing triumph from failure by learning a lesson or whatever. Fucking quit. At least they say there’ll be a sequel. That’s more than you get in “Me and My Shadow.”
By 2009, when they released Bridges to Burn at the dawn of their ongoing collaboration with Relapse Records, then-Los-Angeles-now-San-Diego-based sludgecore slammers 16 had already quit once. Founded in 1991, the band honed their disaffection to an ever-sharper point across four full-lengths and more than a handful of shorter releases; singles, splits and EPs. They called it a day after 2002’s Zoloft Smile, but came back ahead of their 12-track fifth full-length with the lineup of vocalist Cris Jerue, guitarist Bobby Ferry, bassist Tony Baumeister and drummer Jason Corley.
Of those, only Ferry still remains in the band. Corley (also Fistula, King Travolta, Scumchrist, etc.) was gone in summer ’09. Baumeister (also The Cutthroats 9, Æges) had joined in 1993 and after 2012’s Deep Cuts From Dark Clouds was replaced by Barney Firks. Jerue made it to 2020’s Dream Squasher (review here) before taking his rasp, seethe, bellow and screams and going home. Trading out members of the rhythm section and even the odd second guitarist along the way was nothing new for 16 by then, but the band has persisted, much to the aggro-benefit of those fortunate enough to have been crushed by the riffage since.
Meeting cynicism and disillusion with hardcore-born chug and charge like that of “Monday, Bloody Monday” (“It’s the worst day of my life/I fucked up again”) and burning the ground with feedback before “So Broken Down” (“Suicidal deathwish/All because of you”) unveils its almost thrashy tension, the inward and outward trajectories of 16‘s loathing end up in a kind of balance — they hate themselves as much as they hate you as much as they hate everything — but the punk/core spirit underlying never lets them dwell too long in one place. “Me and My Shadow,” with its massive breakdown in the middle, is the longest song at just over five minutes, and they back it with the all-go pummel of “Man, Interrupted” (As I sharpen the blade now/I think of you”) at 2:41.
What comes through, then, is an immediacy that’s still resonant 15 years later, and a sound that for the band was the heaviest-landing production they’d ever had. It was recorded and mixed by Jeff Forrest (Scott Hull mastered), who has helmed everything the band has done, and in comparison to Zoloft Smile, it trades out rawness for impact, fuller in the low end (aren’t we all?) but still able to move on a track like “Permanent Good One” through the rhythmic punches and caustic distorted vocals. Raging on “What Went Wrong?” and “You Let Me Down (Again),” Bridges to Burn grants no boons and offers only the shortest moments of respite before the next attack. It is cognizant of its harshness, and the lack of letup across its span is as purposeful as the circle-pit shove of “So Broken Down.”
It’s a special kind of fuckall, and Bridges to Burn was the beginning of a new era for 16. Signing to Relapse and a studio comeback — even one just a few years after they stopped playing shows and extended the omnidirectional middle finger that defined their ethic as a band to the band itself; it’s not like they were gone for decades — was a big deal, and the band delivered a work that has in some ways helped shape everything they’ve done since. They were more metal than they’d been before, but still linked in style to both sludge and hardcore, and tighter in terms of the performances captured in a way that allowed both the storytelling of the lyrics and the outright bludgeon of the instruments behind Jerue‘s gutted-out vocals to be focal points for the listener in a mix with broader dimensionality. Always heavy, always mean, they got heavier and meaner, and while Bridges to Burn wasn’t a radical departure from Zoloft Smile, it felt like declarative in stepping up to meet the moment of its arrival.
16 have had four albums since Bridges to Burn — the aforementioned Deep Cuts From Dark Clouds, 2016’s Lifespan of a Moth (review here), and in this decade, Dream Squasher and 2022’s Into Dust (review here), the latter of which made the pivotal change of Ferry taking over on vocals feel like just another day in Doomtown — and they had four albums before it. It won’t be the case whenever they eventually follow-up Into Dust, if they do — one never knows — but Bridges to Burn is the centerpiece right now of their nine-full-length-deep discography, and it makes sense in that position. It’s where they left behind the band they’d been and started to evolve into the band they’ve become.
And I guess in some ways, it’s the lack of platitudes that seems to refreshing about Bridges to Burn. Yeah, you wait for the sequel in “Throw in the Towel,” but there’s no guarantee you aren’t gonna get your ass kicked again when that sequel comes. Listening now, 16 feel like a bomb dropped on toxic positivity — the kind of self-congratulations and empty affirmations you buy on t-shirts at Target and Wal-Mart; “I’m trying my best” and “Kindness matters” sloganeering as if to highlight the unspoken messaging, “I’m feeling crushed by life” and “Everyone is an asshole” — saying the quiet part out loud when the quiet part is “fuck everything.” It’s not the kind of record you reach for every day, but when the drums go half-time in “Me and My Shadow” and the chug gets stately, there’s no denying the righteousness of 16‘s assault. A decade and a half later, it still resonates in worldview, groove and abrasion.
As always, I hope you enjoy. Which I say knowing that’s like enjoying being punched in the face. Either way, thanks for reading.
—
The Patient Mrs. began her Fall teaching semester yesterday and The Pecan starts first grade on Tuesday following the Labor Day holiday, so a long and busy summer is coming to an end. The start of school isn’t without some anxiety after the sheer clusterfuck that was Sept.-Dec. 2023 in that regard, but the sincere hope is that the momentum that she had by June — all that not-hitting she was doing — can continue into the new year. We’ll see how it goes.
I’ll be home alone, then. Me and the dog, anyhow. In two weeks I’ll be devastatingly lonely, but especially after The Patient Mrs. spent the bulk of this week at her office after being out every night last week for social or professional obligations, it’ll be a welcome break to have some restorative-boredom alone time. I’ll write. I’ll play Zelda. I’ll smoke a pre-noon bowl and take a 90-minute shower. And I’ll breathe a bit in a way that is possible when one isn’t doing the cruise-activity-directorship that is modern parenting.
I have reviews slated all next week starting with Delving on Monday, but we’ll see how it goes. Until then, my time is up and I am not in a position to argue for more. I hope you have a great and safe weekend. Thanks again for reading.
Posted in Reviews on December 6th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Based in Brest, France, and founded in 2010, Totem Cat Records marks its 50th release in admirably punishing style with the four-way split Cadaver Monuments. Given the opportunity to say something about the imprint’s ongoing mission, Cadaver Monuments teems with curated filth. You start with 16. Okay? That’s where you start. Then you’ve got Arkansas’ Deadbird, and then Nightstick show up and as will happen in such instances, shit goes right off the rails. And to mop up the innards, outtards, uppers and downers is chemically-preserved Ohio mainstays Fistula, who sound at this point like they should be on tour with Cannibal Corpse. That’s Totem Cat declaring who they are? It’s not the entirety of the label’s scope, but while also giving a home to bands like Karma to Burn and Bongzilla — and let’s not forget releasing the most recent offering from Sons of Otis; peace upon it — founder Ewenn Padovan has displayed a penchant for the nastier end of nasty, and in that regard, Cadaver Monuments is one hell of a party.
But understand, this isn’t a party like you show up and there’s a bounce-house or somebody’s got the grill going and you’re playing some tunes in the back yard. This is a party like oops someone just overdosed. Consider the trajectory of the included 13 songs and 53 minutes of music. First of all, it’s hilarious to find a context in which 16 seem like the voice of reason, but even as they launch the collection with “Crust Fund” — the chorus of which just might be, “You suck” — and all due bloodboil, Cadaver Monuments pushes deeper from there with Deadbird‘s generally-semi-hinged atmosludge, the will-forever-be-avant-garde-because-they’re-ahead-of-a-time-that’s-never-coming garage crust wrought by Nightstick, and Fistula‘s death-spreading pestilent extremity, still somehow rooted in punk if not to the degree of Nightstick, who share a sense of suburban fuckery, hopelessness and disillusion. The progression feels purposeful and it is consuming. “Crust Fund” is the shortest cut at 2:30 save for “Hallelujah, I’m a Bum” by Nightstick still to come, and is backed by the Black Flag cover “Beat My Head Against the Wall,” which is respectfully delivered, and the Los Angeles mainstays finish “Broken Minds,” an easy pick for a highlight of the split with the kind of violence-inducing chug that 16‘s most recent LP, 2022’s Into Dust (review here), so gloriously proffered.
They are well met by Deadbird, whose sound has always spoken to me of some nighttime threat, probably in the woods, but who doom on “Static Pain” with a lurch that’s more in league with the emotionalism of Warning until the screaming starts, if rawer in the recording. As each band gets about 10-15 minutes, Deadbird complement the original track with a take on Celtic Frost‘s “Dethroned Emperor” that picks up from the drone that ends “Static Pain” with amp noise and that classic riff. I don’t know where or when the band recorded this cover, but it’s a shift in production from “Static Pain” (I think) that keeps clarity even as “Dethroned Emperor” grows madder after its initial verse and continues its thrust toward its coming-apart-but-fuck-it ending. Deadbird don’t do a ton outside their local area, but the band goes back over 20 years — you might recall they’re tight with Rwake, whose frontman CT has taken part and I think does at least some vocals here — and if you can catch them, it would be advisable. The transition from them to Nightstick is the most dramatic aesthetic shift Cadaver Monuments has to make. True to form, swagger and fuckall seal it.
If you’re unfamiliar with the oeuvre of the South Shore, Massachusetts-based experimental unit, they are truly a psychological experience. They begin with “The Ballad of Richie Gardner” — who the hell is Richie Gardner? I don’t know but he’s probably dead or in jail — and tell a tale of local sexual abuse that might have happened in real life before breaking the track in half and jamming out on the kind of riff that makes you go up to them after the show. Nighstick subsequently slunk into a cover of The Beatles‘ “Yer Blues” that is so much more about death than the blues as to remove the pop from one of the greatest pop songwriters of all-time — it rules, it’s scathing, it’s certainly true to the spirit of the original and the lyrics, and I have to think that somewhere out there a 90-year-old experimentalist artist named Yoko Ono would approve. “Hallelujah, I’m a Bum” is mostly vocals but has some acoustic guitar and seagulls at the end — folk Americana, about homelessness — and the noise and distortion rumbling in “Elizabeth (For Larry Lifeless)” as the titular name is repeated in drawling fashion, while a woman, presumably Elizabeth, says, “You can’t find me, I’m a ghost,” over and over.
Vague and sad in like proportion and blowing out in the last of its sub-three minutes with jazz drums and consuming static wub, “Elizabeth (For Larry Lifeless)” sounds like what you’d find if American popular culture took off its makeup. Like Swans but working class punk instead of arthouse couture. Of course they finish with a take on Wilson Pickett‘s famous “Land of 1,000 Dances,” grunting out the names of dances from the first half of the 1960s with Hellhammer rawness behind. Solo is a total wash. It’s not the kind of fuckery everyone will be able to level with, but the big end and sampled laughs at the end of Nightstick‘s time are a fair enough lead into Fistula, who begin with outright slaughter disguised as “The Toll.” Denser in tone than when I last encountered them, the last of Cadaver Monuments‘ four features roll disgustingly slow and top their harsh-your-mellow megasludge with gnashing, nodule-forming, actually-sounds-like-a-monster monstrous vocals — the whisper to kill yourself before the mosh riff notwithstanding — and from there “The Toll” hits into grindcore, which is both long established in Fistula‘s wheelhouse and, frankly, called for by the proceedings to this point.
I won’t say much for the sentiment behind “Methican American,” but if you’re so hard up that you’re going to Fistula for kindnesses, I recommend a hasty rethink on your entire life. Going fast to slow to fast to slow to fast and injecting low growls under the manic gnashing, the song comes across, well, like it went to Fistula for kindnesses. It and split-capper “Words Decompose” are thick like the concrete in the foundation of a new federal prison, with double-kick furthering the assault as the third of Fistula‘s three inclusion lumbers through its verse. They’ll finish quiet — which is hilarious — but answer the call to violence of 16 earlier with their own urgency. It is not the wildest, most insane I’ve ever heard Fistula sound, and it’s metal-based more than punk, but if they’re methodical in their killing, they’re no less lethal for that.
16 got together in 1991, Nightstick in 1992, Fistula in 1998, and Deadbird in 2002 with a pedigree that goes back farther. For its 50th release, Totem Cat Records embraced the chance to thank its audience, to give the people who’ve followed the label’s growth something special, and to communicate the ethics by which it at least in part operates. These are not short-term bands who tried to make a flash-in-the-pan impact and faded away when the next thing came along on Bandcamp. These are acts who’ve stood up to time and whose respective approaches vary but are uniformly uncompromising. That’s setting a high standard to attain, but the label should be used to that by now too.
Posted in Whathaveyou on October 24th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
You might remember that long-running Cali sludgecore aggressors -(16)- played the Heavy Psych Sounds Festin San Francisco and Los Angeles in 2022. The Italian label, festival organizer and booking company has now sent word that it will handle booking for the band as they look toward a round of 2024 European touring. I’ll be in Europe next summer, reportedly. Maybe I’ll go see them in Budapest if they get there.
Fair enough. What’s here today is barely news compared to, say, announcing that tour, but the basic truth here is I want to listen to 16. That’s absolutely, 100 percent why this post is here complete with 16‘s longform bio (you’ll note it’s in the present tense as it goes through their later albums on Relapse; no, I didn’t write it). And I feel no need to hide the fact that I just want to hear a thing. 30 years on from their first album, 16 are not only still a pissed-off powerhouse, but they’re both heavier and broader in sound. Last year’s Into Dust (review here) is the stuff of misery-obliterating catharsis, and I don’t know about you, but I’d go for a bit of that this morning, afternoon, whatever time it is where you are.
Needing a copy edit aside — look woh’s talking — the band’s bio does well in telling the tumultuous story of this tumultuous sound and the shape it’s taken over the better part of the last 15 years since the band returned with 2009’s Bridges to Burn, which I can’t believe I haven’t had yet as a Friday Full-Length. On the list it goes. Into Dust‘s pummel is doing ever so nicely in the meantime. “The Floor Wins.”
Use your anger to smash your anger. What’s left? Who are you without it?
From the PR wire:
*** -16- *** The sludge metal legends are now part of the Heavy Psych Sounds booking roster
We are so stoked to announce that the sludge metal riffers -16- are now part of the Heavy Psych Sounds booking roster !!!
The band will tour Europe in July/August 2024 !!
BIOGRAPHY
SoCal sludge stalwarts -(16)- are among the most consistent and most underrated purveyors of the heavy riff. The band was formed in Santa Ana, Ca. by Bobby Ferry (guitar), Cris Jerue (vocals), and Jason Corley (drums) in 1991, and was later joined by bassist Tony Baumeister in 1993. The band’s debut 7″, Doorprize, was recorded at the end of 1991, and was shortly followed by their first full-length album, Curves That Kick (released in 1993 on legendary artist Pushead’s label Bacteria Sour). Working with Pushead enabled the band to have the album released in Japan and gave them the opportunity to tour Japan, which happened in the summer of 1994. Soon after, the band performed select live dates with Slayer, the Melvins, Unsane, and Jawbreaker. -(16)-‘s follow-up record Drop Out was released by Pessimiser/Theologian records in 1996 to critical acclaim, which the band followed with a series of local and semi-local performances.
Jason Corley was ejected from the band at the end of 1994, and was replaced by Andy Hassler. Phil Vera was also added as a second guitarist. The band released Blaze of Incompetence in 1997 (again on Pessimiser/Theologian), and completed a US tour with Grief in 1998. Andy Hassler was fired shortly after the tour. R.D. Davies replaced Andy, but he overdosed on heroin 6 months later and was replaced by Mark Sanger. The band’s next album, Zoloft Smile, was recorded in 1999/2000, but wasn’t released until 2002 via At A Loss Recordings. By the time the album was actually released, Bobby and Tony had both quit the band. The rest of the guys carried on, while Phil Vera remained as the band’s lone guitar player. Phil then took over vocal duties in 2003 after Cris was forced to go to rehab for alcohol and drug dependency. -(16)- toured the US and Japan as a three-piece (Phil, Mark, and Rafa) before calling it quits in 2004.
The band couldn’t fight its love for heavy music, though, and reunited in 2007 with a lineup consisting of Bobby, Cris, Jason, and Tony. -(16)- subsequently inked a record deal with renowned label Relapse Records and released their Relapse debut Bridges to Burn in Jan. 2009. The band parted ways with Jason Corley yet again (notice a pattern?), and recruited Mateo Pinkerton (ex Buzzov-en, Crom) as their new drummer. In early 2012 they released the album Deep Cuts from Dark Clouds via Relapse to widespread critical acclaim. Deep Cuts was followed by an eastern US with labelmates Tombs and still more lineup changes: in 2013 Dion Thurman joined as the band’s new drummer, and Barney Firks entered the ranks on bass. In support of Bridges to Burn and Deep Cuts, -(16)- have toured Europe twice, even appearing at major festivals such as Hellfest in France and Roadburn in The Netherlands. Additionally, the band has performed at US festivals Day of the Shred and Southwest Terror Fest and has shared the stage with a wide range of artists, from Neurosis, Nails, Indian, and Inter Arma to Noothgrush, Graves at Sea, ASG, and dozens of others.
In 2016, -(16)- return with their 7th full-length album Lifespan Of A Moth, the band’s heaviest, darkest, and most complex material to date! Self-produced by the band and recorded with Jeff Forrest (Cattle Decapitation, The Locust) at Doubletime Recording Studio in San Diego, CA, Lifespan Of A Moth saw the band sounding uglier, rawer and more visceral than ever. Down-tuned feedback-driven riffs and bludgeoning rhythms violently clash with vocalist Chris Jerue’s distorted, tortured howls across eight tracks of -(16)-‘s signature blend of hardcore punk, thrash and sludge. Lifespan Of A Moth is the sound of a band that has spent 25 years wallowing in addiction and anguish, and will leave you feeling crushed and confronted by the negativity of existence. Despite constant lineup changes and internal turmoil, -(16)- have persevered.
Fast forward to 2020 and -(16)- return with their new album, Dream Squasher. A testament to the power of loss, every moment of Dream Squasher casts the now San Diego based band into new, deeper depths. “A conscious effort was made to inject positivity into the lyrical themes,” guitarist and lead vocalist Bobby Ferry explains. “The best we could come up with is loving your dog so much, you’d end up killing yourself if the dog dies.”
The tragic, violent intent in this expression won’t be lost on listeners either; at any given moment of Dream Squasher, -(16)-‘s bouldering guitars crash into one another, set atop equally pulverizing bass and drums. Thunderous riffs express equal parts melancholy and fury. For the first time in the band’s 29-year career, Dream Squasher sees Bobby Ferry stepping forward and taking the helm on lead vocals, rounding out the band with both monumental moments of singing and pained screams of pure vitriol. From standout tracks like “Candy in Spanish”, to bruisers like “Agora (Killed by a Mountain Lion)” and the mountainous melodies of “Sadlands”, Dream Squasher proves to be -(16)-‘s return to form – where riffs dominate and anger reigns supreme.
Now in 2022, -(16)- return with their heaviest and most devastating record to date, Into Dust. The new album, a collection of cautionary tales of survival and redemption, is set to an amalgamation of sludge, punk, metal, hardcore, and stoner riffs, that could only be built through 30 years of commitment to their dark sonic craft, which -(16)- continues to improve upon. From the frantic opening of “Misfortune Teller” to the undeniable pounding and swagger of “Scrape the Rocks”, Into Dust lives up to its name, as -(16)- beat the listener into submission through the lowest of ends and the sour, palpable malaise prevalent throughout the album’s dozen tracks.
“There’s a story arc in the lyrics that start with an eviction notice served amid the ruins of Hurricane Irma in the Florida Keys, to running aground metaphorically and drowning in midlife, bearing witness to the modern suffering of hunger and poverty on the Mexico California border,” guitarist and vocalist Bobby Ferry says. The negativity persists on tracks aptly titled “Null and Eternal Void”, and the dizzying, pill-induced “The Floor Wins”. Elsewhere, “Born on a Bar Stool” sends the listener off with a sobering album closer; ending on a foggy and rainy jazz-tinged San Francisco night, with an anti-drinking drinking song, proclaiming “Raise your glass all things pass”.
– 16 – is: Bobby Ferry: Guitar, Vocals Alex Shuster: Lead Guitar Barney Firks: Bass Dion Thurman: Drums
Posted in Features on December 21st, 2022 by JJ Koczan
[PLEASE NOTE: These are not the results of the year-end poll, which is ongoing. If you haven’t contributed your picks yet, please do so here.]
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I believe we are in the midst of a generational turnover among artists and bands. Some have reshuffled as a result of either the pandemic or a basic desire to explore new creative reaches, and some are just plain younger, finding their way into a heavy underground that now has the fanbase ecosystem to support their work. The last couple years have not been easy for anyone, but this wouldn’t be the first instance of hard times making for good art.
The music that will define this decade is being made now. Fresh perspectives and new ideas have broadened the definitions of what makes a sound heavy, and while the change can feel and has felt excruciatingly slow, rock and roll has grown more diverse, much to its benefit. The boundaries between microgenres have become ever more porous, resulting in a vibrant shifting of styles and breadth that, even when playing directly to familiar ideals, is evolution at work. As/if you make your way through the lists below, consider the veteran acts and newcomers, young and old, how many debuts and sophomore albums and how many bands on their fifth, sixth, seventh, etc. Not that there’s nothing between, but the divide feels stark.
As war returned to Eastern Europe and the American political system teetered worryingly toward collapse, music was both respite and reportage, escape, therapy and critique marked by a blanket expressive urgency, no matter which side of which argument one was on. The ‘return’ of touring and live shows was a boon for escapists and celebrants, and one found new appreciation for the simple act of gathering. Some of the most beautiful moments I’ve ever seen on a stage happened in 2022.
In this spirit, I ask as I do every year to please, if you comment on this post in either agreement or disagreement, please, please keep it civil. For both my own sensitivities — yes, I take it personally — and those of anyone else reading. I thank you for reading, and if you feel compelled to respond, thank you for that too. I’m a human being. You’re a human being. Let’s just be nice. That’s all.
Okay. Deep breath in… and plunge:
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The Top 60 Albums of 2022
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Maybe you think a Top 60 is ridiculous. Fair. Too much? Okay. Anything else? No? Then let’s roll.
Precedent for this was set last year, and I found the trouble this time was not only sorting it by number — once you pass a certain point it’s more about including the names than the actual ordering, I’ll admit — but actually keeping it to 60. Believe it or not, these are packed in, and there were more than a handful of others I was heartbroken to have to leave out of the numbered list.
Here goes:
31. Ecstatic Vision, Elusive Mojo
32. Josiah, We Lay on Cold Stone
33. C.Ross, Skull Creator
34. Samavayo, Pāyān
35. Abronia, Map of Dawn
36. CB3, Exploration
37. Brant Bjork, Bougainvillea Suite
38. Valley of the Sun, The Chariot
39. Mos Generator, Time//Wounds
40. Edena Gardens, Edena Gardens
41. Cities of Mars, Cities of Mars
42. Dreadnought, The Endless
43. Clutch, Sunrise on Slaughter Beach
44. Tau and the Drones of Praise, Misneach
45. Nebula, Transmission From Mothership Earth
46. Birth, Born
47. Ufomammut, Fenice
48. Supersonic Blues, It’s Heavy
49. Naxatras, IV
50. Come to Grief, When the World Dies
51. Toad Venom, EAT!
52. Earthless, Night Parade of 100 Demons
53. Hazemaze, Blinded by the Wicked
54. Experiencia Tibetana, Vol. II
55. Les Nadie, Destierro y Siembra
56. MWWB, The Harvest
57. Obiat, Indian Ocean
58. Messa, Close
59. JIRM, The Tunnel, the Well, Holy Bedlam
60. Somali Yacht Club, The Space
Notes:
Some killer records. And not just things to be appreciated critically, either, but stuff I actually listened to a fair bit. Cities of Mars, Obiat, Tau and the Drones of Praise, Brant Bjork’s always a go-to. Seeing Ecstatic Vision and Josiah next to each other makes me want to book a UK tour for them together. And then you get into the gleeful acid fuckall of Nebula, Naxatras’ full-on-prog-rock pivot, Clutch being Clutch, Supersonic Blues’ right on debut — finally! — and Obiat’s first record in 13 years. Dreadnought and Edena Gardens and JIRM and CB3, Abronia. There isn’t a clunker in the bunch.
Don’t ignore this list, please, and please don’t think that because something’s not in the top 30 with the cover art right there I don’t think you should check it out. If that was the case, I’d cap the list at 30. There’s genuine treasure here to be found, and it’s my sincere hope you’ll take the time to find it.
My only hope is it wasn’t a one-off that Jason Haberman (Yeahsun), Ian Blurton (Ian Blurton’s Future Now, etc.), and Jay Anderson (Lammping) came together to form this classic psychedelic soul project. With guest vocalists, the six songs on this self-titled debut ranged from flowing extended jams to tight acid disco pop, as memorable as they were righteous. Sleeper hit.
By no means the only cause to rejoice to emerge over the last few years from Hungary’s Psychedelic Source Records collective, River Flows Reverse‘s second offering brings a crafted focus on organic, natural-world psychedelia that results in an affecting beauty and warmth all its own. It is the acid folk of another world; varied in instrumentation, exploratory, welcoming and wonderfully serene.
Long-since proven as songwriters, Virginia Beach’s Freedom Hawk one-upped themselves again with their sixth album. It was an effective summary of what has made the band so crucial and so largely undervalued during their time, bringing together elements from classic metal, classic heavy rock, desert riffing, and even some flourish of psychedelia in a DIY recording that told us we all need rock and roll and went on to demonstrate why.
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27. Lamp of the Universe, The Akashic Field
Released through Headspin Records & Astral Projection. Reviewed Jan. 10.
I’ll gladly cop to being a sucker for the long-running lysergic solo-project of Hamilton, New Zealand’s Craig Williamson (ex-Arc of Ascent, ex-Datura), and as he makes ready to unveil the more riff-heavy, still-solo band incarnation Dead Shrine in 2023 (info here), this offering from Lamp of the Universe pushed through a transitional spirit as though he was passing a torch… to himself. More than 20 years on, this project still evolves, can still surprise.
A beautiful bludgeoning. Metallic in its aggression, hardcore in its soul and sludged to its monstrously-proportioned gills, the latest from Los Angeles’ 16 felt tighter in its songwriting and meaner even than 2020’s Dream Squasher (review here), but maybe that’s the difference between being punched in the stomach and the solar plexus. This was the one that took the air right out of your lungs, and did so with purpose beyond the simple violence of the act.
Recorded (with Billy Anderson) during the general awfulness of 2020, this awaited third long-player from the Portland, Oregon, outfit led by former SubArachnoid Space guitarist/vocalist Melynda Marie Jackson harvested a vision of progressive black metal likewise expansive and dug into the dirt of its making. It was not easy listening by any stretch, but to undertake the challenge it issued listeners was to engage with a churning cosmic extremity that only emphasized the limits and folly of genre.
The follow-up from guitarist/vocalist Brant Bjork, bassist/vocalist Nick Oliveri and drummer Ryan Güt to 2021’s Stoners Rule (review here) had its challenge in continuing to speak to the rawest-form desert punk of the project’s debut while nonetheless growing the sound and moving forward. Stöner did this by making it a (pizza) party, with cuts like “A Million Beers,” “Driving Miss Lazy” and “Strawberry Creek (Dirty Feet)” bringing further vocal integration from Bjork and Oliveri as they blanketly refused to not have a good time. Easy record to dig, and it was dug.
One hates to use a cliché like “now more than ever,” but the return of UK lumberchuckers Conan was especially well-timed, and Evidence of Immortality spoke to the overwhelming strangeness of our times with clever metaphor while maintaining the trio’s punishing heft and extreme noise-doom onslaught. By now, their tonality is rightly the stuff of legend, and they know it and they play into it with particularly rampaging glee, but the six-track outing also showed how central atmosphere has become to their pummel, as heard on the 14-minute instrumental closer “Grief Sequence,” a somehow fitting complement to the all-in plod of leadoff “A Cleaved Head No Longer Plots.”
It is remarkable how distinctive My Sleeping Karma have become over time. Their ever-instrumental approach is progressive and reliably able to broaden beyond its root arrangements of guitar, bass, drums and synth, but at the same time, their meditative psychedelia is only ever their own. This was their first studio album in seven years, and while its component material played out with an overarching melancholy that seemed to look inward as much as at the state of the world at large, the four-piece likewise presented an answer in the catharsis of their expression. An essential reminder of the healing art can provide, Atma‘s resonance was an immersive comfort in its own right Like a weighted blanket, and accordingly warm.
New York’s Sun Voyager provided their own best descriptor of how their second full-length and first for Ripple functions in the song title “Rip the Sky.” The trio/sometimes-four-piece took cosmic bikerisms and classic punk/grunge shove, superheated them like they were about to fuse atoms, and accordingly scorched their way through a sans-nonsense-yet-full-of-nonsense 32 minutes and seven songs that, while varied enough in tempo, remained defined by their urgency. Last month, bassist/backing vocalist/keyboardist Stefan Mersch and drummer Kyle Beach announced Christian Lopez stepping in on guitar in place of Carlos Francisco, and whatever the future holds, they’re that much stronger for this wind pushing them forward.
This band is three-for-three in my mind, and as their third full-length, Psychic Forms fostered the most realized vision of their take on progressive heavy rock to-date while feeling not at all like a culmination. In its range and atmospheric focus, it built on what came before, but in pushing as far as it did, it seemed to open as many doors as it went through. Does that make any sense? Did I mix metaphors enough? Point is, the Boise, Idaho-based four-piece seem to develop new ideas and incorporate new influences every time out, and while their material becomes more complex as a result of that, they have yet to put those adventurous impulses to any use that does not best serve the song in question. Psychic Formsis what I wish the word ‘Americana’ actually meant.
On some level/levels, Mythosphere could be seen as a continuation of Beelzefuzz, the former outfit of guitarist/vocalist Dana Ortt and drummer Darin McCloskey (both also of Pale Divine). That simplistic view, however, doesn’t account for the shift in dynamic of bringing in Victor Arduini (ex-Fates Warning, Entierro, Arduini/Balich) on lead guitar or Ron “Fezz” McGinnis (Pale Divine, Admiral Browning, etc.) on bass. The latter two play a massive role in building on the foundation of Ortt‘s recognizable style, and as they unfurled Pathological, the sense was that they were stronger for the members’ familiarity with each other even as they undertook developing this new dynamic. One of the strongest and most progressive debut albums Maryland doom has ever produced in my view.
As the year went on, the sophomore long-player from Oregon’s Charley No Face just wouldn’t let go. Songs like “Mosaic Sky,” “Big Sleep,” “Satan’s Hand” — they just kept calling me back to hear them again. Languid fuzz, dual-vocals both delivered in dreamy breaths, the odd bit of cultish tendencies, all of it feeding into tracks catchy, heavy and miraculously unpretentious; Eleven Thousand Volts wasn’t necessarily reinventing a genre aesthetic or anything so grandiose, but its tracks were impeccably well done and seemed built for repeat listens, from the mellow-heavy strut of opener “Eyes” through the sweeping culmination of “Death Mask” at the end. Charley No Face nailed it. 2020’s The Green Man (discussed here) set the course, but in bringing in keyboardist/vocalist Carina Hartley alongside guitarist/vocalist Nick Wulfrost, bassist Brad Larson and drummer Tim Abel, they leaped beyond even the most unreasonable of expectations.
The combination in Atlas of breadth, spaciousness of sound, of rhythmic crunch, and of melody, put it in a stylistic category of its own. The Swedish fivesome whose moniker well-earned its own pronunciation guide have managed to grow and change each time out, but between the confident and soulful delivery of Lea Amling Alazam, the wide-spread tones of guitarists Andreas Baier and Staffan Stensland Vinrot, and the inherited-from-Dozer rhythm section of bassist Johan Rockner and drummer Erik Bäckwall, this felt like the moment where the band became themselves and seemed to realize the intentions they’d laid out at their beginning. Not bad for a self-produced second record, and not to be lost in the narrative of their ongoing maturation is the fact that for all their expanse, the songs seemed to get correspondingly tighter and more efficient structurally, which made them all the more engaging.
While the Dubuque, Iowa, duo remained somewhat defined by the split of their initial lineup that left guitarist/vocalist Alex Baumann — joined now by drummer Rockwel Heim — as the lone remaining founder, Telekinetic Yeti pressed ahead with self-aware riff-led stoner metal that demonstrated a special kind of revelry for the form even as Primordial left its own elephantine footprint thereupon. Unrepentant in their crushing fuzz, the band tapped into the lizard-brain-thrill of celebrating aural heft, but did so without neglecting songcraft, taking melodic cues from Floor and others while sounding fresh even as they seemed so utterly covered in dense, caked-on mud. As they move forward, they’re another act from an up-and-coming generation of players whose potential at this point seems only beginning to manifest, and while Primordial hardly put one in mind for evolution thematically, Telekinetic Yeti remain one of tomorrow’s brightest hopes for riffslinging.
Just about a year ago, I was lucky enough to be invited to the studio (features here and here) with Kingston, New York, trio Geezer while they put down the basic tracks for what would become Stoned Blues Machine. Even at that early point in the record’s making, it was apparent that they’d outdone even what was their definitive statement in 2020’s Groovy (review here). In terms of songwriting, the performances captured from guitarist/vocalist Pat Harrington, bassist Richie Touseull and drummer Steve Markota, and the scope of the record, Geezer took the lessons of their best album yet and made a new best album yet. Rife with hooks in “Atomic Moronic,” the title-track, “A Cold Black Heart,” etc., they dug into songs like “Eleven” and “Saviours” with an honest and sincere music-as-escape mindset and honored their jammier side with the tripped out “The Diamond Rain of Saturn.” I’m a fan of these guys, and Stoned Blues Machine was more than I’d have asked for, even holding them to the high standard I do.
Yeah, I said as much in the album review, and maybe-not-surprisingly my opinion hasn’t changed in the last two weeks, but if Sky Pig represent the future of sludge metal, that’s cool by me. The Sacramento outfit’s debut full-length takes the urgent crush of 2020’s Hell is Inside You EP and presents its maddening charge with offsetting, sometimes disturbing drone complement, sometimes resolving in steamroller-over-your-brain riffs and sometimes refusing to resolve at all. No matter how many times I put on the record, it’s a challenge. It’s not an easy listen, and where in many cases it wouldn’t be worth the effort, meeting Sky Pig on their level is thrilling and refreshing, which is so weird to think of about an album that so expertly seems to harness an atmosphere of decay. I won’t predict what the years to come will bring, or where Sky Pig will go from It Thrives in Darkness in terms of craft, but their first LP is both a significant accomplishment in individualizing stylistic impulses and overflowing with potential. A beast that hypnotizes, strikes, and hypnotizes again, purely because it can.
Listening to it, it seems somewhat cruel on the part of Los Angeles trio Sasquatch that, after being mastered in March 2020, Fever Fantasy sat in the proverbial can for more than two years before seeing release this June. Fortunately for all who’d take it on — only to be overwhelmed and consumed by the unruly dense fuzz of guitarist/vocalist Keith Gibbs and bassist Jason “Cas” Casanova en route to being punched upside your fool head by Craig Riggs‘ snare — the nine-song outing lost none of its edge for that time, and songs like “Lilac,” “Voyager” (dig that organ) and “Save the Day, Ruin the Night” hold firm to their on-the-beat intensity, a flawless uptempo heavy rock execution broadened by the flowing roll of the eight-minute “Ivy” and the full-bore-volume finish in “Cyclops” (dig that organ too). They’ve been on a streak for, I don’t know, the better part of two decades, and if the shove of “It Lies Beyond the Bay” doesn’t get you, then maybe the fact that in all their time they’ve never sounded this brazenly heavy will. Wouldn’t’ve minded it sooner, but it was certainly welcome this year. Inimitable energy in Sasquatch.
What do you say to a seven-track/75-minute Wo Fat album except maybe “yes please?” Could be the now-veteran Dallas-based three-piece — guitarist/vocalist Kent Stump, bassist Zack Busby, drummer Michael Walter — were making up for lost time, having not had a studio album since 2016’s Midnight Cometh (review here) when they’d previously been on an every-two-years pattern like relative clockwork, but whatever it was, The Singularity was an album by which to be engulfed. The riffs, of course, the riffs, but consider that quick break of bright noodling in 13-minute opener “Orphans of the Singe,” or the delve into next-level heaviness that followed in “The Snows of Banquo IV.” While keeping to their core approach in jazz-informed, jam-prone-but-still-hooky bluesy fuzz rock, Wo Fat seemed to purposefully screw with their own formula, giving “The Unraveling” a tense chug and finding new realms of vastness in 16-minute closer “The Oracle.” Maybe it’ll be two years for their next one, maybe six, maybe never, but Wo Fat answered the call in 2022 as only they could, and one could only be grateful for their return.
It’s my nature to dig a lot of bands. I’m left in awe by far fewer. The second album from Forlesen, recorded mostly remotely as at least some portion of the band is now based in Oregon, Black Terrain was stunning enough that I couldn’t bring myself to even review it until about two months after it was already out. Beautifully arranged and set to purposes that were at times genuinely terrifying, this four-song answer to 2020’s debut, Hierophant Violent (review here), felt more patient even as it drew thicker lines between its movements and seemed to begin a process of melding styles through which one can only hope Forlesen‘s style will continue to develop. Sad and aggressive, wholly immersive and still challenging to the listener, Black Terrain was just as likely to tear open the cosmic fabric in “Harrowed Earth” as to drone itself into oblivion on its title-track, but it was the enthralling nature of the album as a single work — never mind that triumphant final solo in “Saturnine” — that was the real accomplishment. Most of all, Forlesen stood on their own, as themselves, and set their own path forward into the actually-unknown, with all the gorgeousness and horror that might imply.
The way “Pleading to the Cosmic Mother” seemed to actually plead, and the swap in perspective for “Last Words of a Dying God.” The sinister underpinning in the lyrical promises of “One More Step.” The devotional sensibility and swirl of “Seven Rays of Colour” at the outset and the corresponding regret of “We Lost it Somewhere” at the end. That hook in “Now’s the Time.” The complement across sides in “Valleys and Hills Pt. 1 – Peel Away the Layers” and “Valleys and Hills Pt. 2 – Pure Illumination.” Church of the Cosmic Skull‘s fourth album not only brought founding guitarist/vocalist Bill Fisher‘s whole-album compositional sensibility to new heights, but was truly classic in feel and the ways in which the songs spoke to each other, worked off each other, melodically, rhythmically and in theme. Gorgeously harmonized as ever, the cult-minded UK seven-piece gave up nothing of craft in service to their audio/visual aesthetic, and even just on the level of a-thing-to-put-on, the utter listenability and welcome that There is No Time offered was no less resonant than the calls to sing along to any number of the choruses. There is no one else out there like them, no other band among the hundreds covered here who can do what they do, and yes, I mean that. They are special, transcendent.
Granted, as regards narrative, the story of All Souls‘ third album behind 2020’s Songs for the End of the World (review here) and 2018’s self-titled debut (review here) was always going to be that the Los Angeles-based then-trio of guitarist/vocalist Antonio Aguilar, bassist/vocalist Meg Castellanos (both ex-Totimoshi) and drummer Tony Tornay (also Fatso Jetson) recorded with producer Alain Johannes (Eleven, Queens of the Stone Age, etc.). And the songs bore his mark for sure, in backing vocals and lead guitar, complementing and fleshing out the root heavy punk rock-isms of the band, who, well, were down a guitarist anyhow and had room for such contributions. I don’t know what the impetus was behind the collaboration, but even just in the performances captured from the trio, the songs felt like the best versions of themselves, and went beyond third-record realizations in terms of stepping forward from where All Souls were two years ago. They remain woefully undervalued in my mind, and I have the feeling that might be the case even if they were millionaires, but the spirit in Ghosts Among Us, that intangible atmosphere and sonic persona that emerged was both intimate and sprawling, deeply singular and heartfelt while bringing the listener along for the journey across its still-humble 39 minutes. Records like this don’t happen every year. You should hear it.
Formerly (?) the drummer of New Paltz, New York, psych purveyors It’s Not Night: It’s Space, self-recording multi-instrumentalist Michael Lutomski is the lone figure behind Okkoto, and Climb the Antlers and Reach the Stars was his second full-length under the banner after 2019’s Fear the Veil Not the Void. Across five individualized but flowing pieces, Lutomski harnessed a meditative ambience that pushed into homemade intimacy and aural distance in kind, the songs serene as they evocatively conjured a three-dimensional world of length, width, depth. With just a couple guest appearances adding to his own performances, Lutomski found balance in exploration, and the resonance of “Wind at the Gated Grove,” the birdsong in “First Drops in the Cup of Dawn” and the ethereal presence in the soft, rolling nod of finale “Where the Meadows Dream Beside the Sea” all fed into an impression that one might call “striking” were it not so gently, carefully handled. Climb the Antlers and Reach the Stars felt like an offering in the truest sense of the word, and brought soulful purpose to its experimentalism, giving comfort to the listener in its willful contradiction of anxiety; not so much ‘for our times’ as beyond time. It established Lutomski as a noteworthy auteur and creator, and engaged with the organic on every level in a way unforced, loving and hypnotic. Everything was exactly as it needed to be.
There was so much happening at times throughout the 40 minutes of Axexan, Espreitan that it could be hard to keep up with, but in fusing together heavy psych and classic, progressive heavy rock with their native Galician folk influences, Moura found a sound unlike anything else I heard this year. It was such a palpable sense of sharing; an expression of the internalized value of culture. Even as “Romance de Andrés d’Orois” seemed at its outset to float in the antigravity space created by the prior intro “Alborada do alén,” it did so with humanity and made itself memorable in its arrangement and across-language-barrier total-dialogue, conversing with itself, history, the future and the listener. It could be traditionally heavy, as in the scorcher guitar work in the second half of “Pelerinaxes” or the closing stretch of “Lúa vermella,” but showed in songs like “Encontro cunha moura fiadeira en Dormeá” that Axexan, Espreitan was about more than where a given linear build was going, but about the sights and meetings along the way. On just their second full-length, Moura displayed a rare mastery of their approach and made each piece feel like a celebration of something beyond themselves and their songwriting, whether that was the relatively minimal “Cantar do liño” or the kosmiche thrust of “Baile do dentón.” Could be head-spinning, could be tranquil, but whatever else it was at any given time, it was wonderfully complete and engrossing.
ColourHaze are not only one of the most pivotal and influential European bands of their generation — heavy psychedelic rock would not exist as it does without them, period — but even more importantly, they’re a group who have refused stagnation outright. Sacred was the Munich-based four-piece’s 14th album, and it presented a shift in the dynamic in marking the studio introduction of bassist Mario Oberpucher — taking on the role held for more than two decades by Philip Rasthofer in the rhythm section alongside drummer Manfred Merwald — and found Stefan Koglek‘s guitar playing off Jan Faszbender‘s keys and synth in ever more engaging ways. It wasn’t just about stepping back and giving space to one instrument or the other anymore, but about how they can converse together and bolster the songs, push each other as players and bring the best out of each other to the ultimate strengthening of the record itself. Like so much of what Colour Haze do, this is organic; a natural process happening over time, and to be sure, their next album will likewise be an outgrowth of what they accomplished in Sacred, their songs so undeniably their own even as they explore new reaches and ideas. A bit of lyrical cynicism in “Avatar,” “See the Fools” and the defiant stance of “Goldmine” spoke to the moment of their creation, but Sacred provided its own best argument for love over hate, and perhaps the highest compliment that can be paid is that it’s a record worthy of the band that made it.
This was my album of the year for most of the year, and there’s a big part of me that continues to think of it on those terms. The eighth full-length from San Diego solo industrialist Tristan Shone — who brought Ecstatic Vision‘s Doug Sabolick on tour as guitarist — branched out melodically from 2018’s Beastland (discussed here), which was his first for Relapse, which could be heard likewise in his own not-just-harsh vocals and in the use of melodic programmed synth as well on a song like “Maiden Star.” At the same time, an uptick in production value gave cinematic presence to the storytelling of “Drone Mounting Dread,” “Centurion” and the concluding title-track (among others), and a corresponding increase in engagement with non-synth instrumentation — needing a guitarist was not a coincidence — brought weighted bass to “Centurion” and live drums to “Misery,” further broadening the scope of what was an examination of pandemic-era life in America, the dystopian nature of the US circa 2021 presented as the backdrop upon which the songs took place; see “Incinerator,” the electronic-noise overload of “Blacksmith” and even the masculine voice through which the Portishead cover “Glorybox” was manifest. Shone reaffirmed his place miles ahead of almost the entire sphere of industrial metal, and gave the everything-is-whole-planet-death-and-it’s-our-fault moment the cruel sense of tragedy it deserved, mourning chaos even as it acknowledged a place for love within it.
In the name of all that is good and right in the universe, have you heard this album? With it, Caustic Casanova — bassist/vocalist Francis Beringer (who wrote the best lyrics I read all year, hands down), drummer/vocalist Stefanie Zænker, and guitarists Andrew Yonki and Jake Kimberley — outdid themselves, the pandemic and the legacy of Theodore Roosevelt in five songs and 45 minutes of unflinchingly perfect quirk. Are they punk, noise, prog, stoner rock, post-hardcore or sludge? Yes. Also no. Also a little bit, maybe? I’ve been through Glass Enclosed Nerve Center — the band’s fifth album and first written as a four-piece — a bother-my-family-with-it amount of times, and I’m still up in the air on where it rests categorically, and perhaps that’s in part because the one thing it did not do was rest. Even in the multiple stages of 22-minute finale “Bull Moose Against the Sky,” which I promise you is the only reason I’m even doing a Song of the Year part of this post below, their moves were considered and unpredictable in kind, and whether it was the weight of “Lodestar,” the sunrise at the outset of “Anubis Rex,” the yes-it’s-been-like-that mania of “A Bailar Con Cuarentena” or the hypnotic-plus-dizzying then massive “Shrouded Coconut” on side A, Caustic Casanova were able to pivot from one part the next while making hooks out of single measures and crafting an outing that went beyond even the sundry weirdo triumphs they’ve had to this point in their tenure. A special record on every level one might want to consider, and quintessentially the band’s own.
When Salt Lake City, Utah’s SubRosa ended after releasing the best album of 2016 in For This We Fought the Battle of Ages (review here), the heart ached for the expressive artistry and distinct style that was snuffed out when it seemed the band still had so much more to say. The emergence of The Otolith, with former SubRosa members Sarah Pendleton and Kim Cordray (violin and vocals, both), Levi Hanna (now guitar/vocals) and Andy Patterson (drums, percussion, production, mixing, mastering) — four-fifths of the band that was — and their presentation of the debut album Folium Limina, has been the flower growing on top of that grave. Together with bassist/vocalist Matt Brotherton, the atmospheric, almost-gothic-but-too-in-the-real-world, gracefully flowing post-metallic five-piece didn’t so much pick up where the last band left off as use that ending to mark a new beginning of their own exploration. Increased use of sampling (at least one big one in the penultimate “Bone Dust”), keyboard/synth, and deeper arrangements of harsh/clean vocals on songs like “Ekpyrotic” and the finale “Dispirit” diverged in intent and the full album maintained a mournful, critical, intelligent-but-emotive poetic voice that carried across the entirety of its consuming 63 minutes. This made Folium Limina of a kind with its high desert/mountainous, surrounded-by-dangerous-fanatics-and-duly-frightened-and-defiant predecessor, but even better, it declared The Otolith as ready to step out of that significant shadow and flourish as something new.
The third of three was perhaps a definitive statement of who King Buffalo are as a group. The Rochester, New York, trio of guitarist/vocalist/synthesist Sean McVay, bassist/synthesist Dan Reynolds and drummer Scott Donaldson released two albums in 2021 in The Burden of Restlessness (review here), which was my pick for last year’s album of the year, and the also-in-the-top-five, cave-recorded Acheron (review here), the seven-song Regenerator, as their fifth full-length overall, faced the biggest challenge of any of their studio work to-date in completing their unofficial pandemic-era trilogy of LPs written during covid-19 lockdown in 2020. Regenerator not only rose to the occasion, but deftly served as keystone for the series in tying together the progressive psychedelia of The Burden of Restlessness with the exploratory, speaking-to-the-natural-world communion of Acheron. Whether it was the opener/longest track (immediate points) “Regenerator” itself, the tight push of tension in “Mercury” or the later melodic fleshing out of “Mammoth” and “Avalon,” or the all-embracing conclusion in “Firmament,” Regenerator tied together the two albums before and stepped forward as something new, finding an ideal balance for the band’s increasingly multifaceted approach without sacrificing songcraft in its individual pieces. These last two years have seen King Buffalo ascend among the foremost purveyors of heavy psychedelia, and the genre is stronger for the efforts they’ve made to reshape it in their image. The truly horrifying part is I’m convinced their best work is still ahead of them. Amid trauma and cynicism, King Buffalo made it okay to feel optimistic.
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2022 Album of the Year
1. Elder, Innate Passage
Released by Stickman Records & Armageddon Shop. Reviewed Nov. 17.
Sometimes the obvious answer is the answer. In the last decade, the first-Massachusetts-then-mostly-Berlin, first-trio-then-four-piece Elder became a defining presence in progressive heavy psychedelic rock, with 2011’s Dead Roots Stirring (review here), 2012’s Spires Burn/Release EP (review here), 2015’s landmark among landmarksLore (review here), and 2017’s Reflections of a Floating World (review here) each taking forward steps to create a sound influential even as it seemed to be constantly coming to fruition. This is their best album, no, this is their best album. In this decade, they stand astride their aesthetic as masters. As the follow-up to 2020’s moment-of-transition Omens (review here), the five-track Innate Passage is an arrival; a vision of Elder as mature and still evolving, veterans ahead of their time while most of their generation are upstarts, and on a wavelength of their own despite the increasing pervasiveness of their predominance. The flexibility of their songwriting, and the ability of founding guitarist/vocalist/keyboardist Nick DiSalvo — joined by founding bassist Jack Donovan, guitarist/keyboardist Mike Risberg and drummer Georg Edert — to marry parts together that would in other hands be too disparate to connect have never been so resonant, and in cuts like “Endless Return,” “Catastasis,” and the 14-minute two-parter “Merged in Dreams/Ne Plus Ultra,” Elder harvested their most accomplished melodicism to-date (guest vocal harmonies from Samavayo‘s Behrang Alavi and the production of Linda Dag at Clouds Hill Studio were both notable contributions to this aspect of the work), while simultaneously keeping mindful of the dynamic potential of the songs to be tonally and rhythmically heavy, as in “Coalescence” the otherworldly finisher “The Purpose” and indeed, impact-minded stretches in “Catastasis” and “Merged in Dreams/Ne Plus Ultra.” This emphasis felt daring from a band who had purposefully moved away from lumbering-style riffing a decade earlier, and the seamlessness with which Elder integrated these ideas into their proggy aural macrocosm helped make Innate Passage a standout even in their unflinchingly forward-moving discography, even as the title itself reminded that this too is likely only another step along their path. Off they go again, ascendant.
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The Top 60 Albums of 2022: Honorable Mention
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Strap yourselves in, kids. We’re not done yet.
The year wouldn’t have been as sonically stellar as it was without:
40 Watt Sun, 10,000 Years, Aawks, Abrams, Alunah, Ararat, Artifacts & Uranium, Basalt Shrine, Behold! The Monolith, Black Capricorn, Black Lung, Black Space Riders, Blue Heron, Boris, Brujas del Sol, Burning Sister, Cachemira, Candlemass, Carcaño, Carson, Cave In, Chat Pile, Church of the Sea, Circle of Sighs, Come to Grief, Crippled Black Phoenix, Crowbar, Michael Rudolph Cummings, Deathwhite, Deer Creek, Desert Wave, Deville, Dirty Streets, DRÖÖG, DUNDDW, Dune Sea, Dystopian Future Movies, Early Moods, Electric Mountain, El Perro, E-L-R, End Boss, Evert Snyman & The Aviary, Firebreather, Foot, Fostermother, Freebase Hyperspace, FutureProjektor, Fuzz Sagrado, Garden of Worm, Gaupa, Gnome, Goatriders, Greenbeard, Half Gramme of Soma, Horehound, Humanotone, Ian Blurton’s Future Now, James Romig/Mike Scheidt, Jawless, Kadavermarch, Kaleidobolt, Kanaan, Kandodo4, Kryptograf, LáGoon, Erik Larson, Les Lekin, Lydsyn, Madness, Mammoth Volume, Melt Motif, Mezzoa, MIGHT, Mirror Queen, Mother of Graves, Motorpsycho, Mount Desert, Mount Saturn, My Diligence, Mythic Sunship, Nadja, Ode and Elegy, Oktas, Olson Van Cleef and Williams, Ol’ Time Moonshine, Onségen Ensemble, Orango, Øresund Space Collective, Papir, Paralyzed, People of the Black Circle, Pia Isa, Pike vs. the Automaton, Psychlona, Red Eye, Reverend Mother, Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol, Rocky Mtn Roller, Ruby the Hatchet, Russian Circles, Seremonia, Sergeant Thunderhoof, Sergio Ch., Seven Nines and Tens, Sleepwulf, Slowenya, Soldat Hans, Somnus Throne, Sonja, Sons of Arrakis, Steak, Știu Nu Știu, Sula Bassana, Sum of R, Supplemental Pills, Swamp Lantern, The Swell Fellas, Tekarra, T.G. Olson, Trace Amount, Uncle Woe, Vitskär Süden, Voivod, Eric Wagner, Weddings, Wild Rocket, and Yatra.
Notes:
Some of these, in comparison to the year-end poll, are more popular picks than others. As always, part of what I base my list on is my own listening habits, so if my list is different than yours, well, I’m a different person. Mystery solved.
That said, I acknowledge that especially at post-time, this is preliminary and I am — at times overwhelmingly — fallible. While I keep a running list all year of standout records, based on my preferences as well as what I perceive as critical value separate from them within a given subset of styles, and despite the fact that I’ve gone back through the more than 300 releases that have been reviewed (so far) in 2022 to make this list, it’s possible and indeed likely I’ve forgotten somebody, left someone out who deserves to be here.
If that’s the case — and based on just about every other year I’ve done this, it very likely is — I ask again that you please be kind in pointing out whatever that may be and whyever you believe it should be where it isn’t. Maybe your pick for the best release of 2022 isn’t here at all. Instead of calling me a dipshit and an idiot, let’s try to celebrate the fact that in a single heavy underground, there can be such a diverse range of opinions and different artists and styles to appreciate, and how fortunate we are to be alive at a time when so much incredible art is available at the click of a make-believe button. Also indoor plumbing and penicillin, but that’s a different conversation entirely and best left to another day.
Last year, I limited honorable mentions to 60 to correspond with the numbered list. I’ve got over 115 bands listed above, and if in combination with the top 60 itself you find that to be an insurmountable swath of releases, good. That’s the point. We are surrounded by beauty every day. It can be difficult to keep this in mind, but there is little that’s more important than knowing that. I thank you for your attention and hope, as ever, that you find something in all of this that speaks to you.
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Debut Album of the Year 2022
The Otolith, Folium Limina
Other notable debuts (somewhat alphabetically):
AAWKS, Heavy on the Cosmic
Arð, Take Up My Bones
Basalt Shrine, From Fiery Tongues
Burning Sister, Mile High Downer Rock
Burn the Sun, Le Roi Soleil
Chat Pile, God’s Country
Church of the Sea, Odalisque
Come to Grief, When the World Dies
DRÖÖG, DRÖÖG
Early Moods, Early Moods
Edena Gardens, Edena Gardens
El Perro, Hair Of…
Elk Witch, Beyond the Mountain
End Boss, They Seek My Head
Faetooth, Remnants of the Vessel
Freebase Hyperspace, Planet High
The Gray Goo, 1943
High Noon Kahuna, Killing Spree
Jawless, Warrizer
Kadavermarch, Into Oblivion
Kamru, Kosmic Attunement to the Malevolent Rites of the Universe
Les Nadie, Destierro y Siembra
Limousine Beach, Limousine Beach
London Odense Ensemble, Jaiyede Sessions Vol. 1
Lydsyn, Lydsyn
Magnatar, Crushed
Maunra, Monarch
Mother Bear, Zamonian Occultism
Mount Desert, Fear the Heart
Mount Saturn, O Great Moon
Mythosphere, Pathological
Ode and Elegy, Ode and Elegy
Oktas, The Finite and the Infinite
People of the Black Circle, People of the Black Circle
Pia Isa, Distorted Chants
Reverend Mother, Damned Blessing
Rocky Mtn Roller, Haywire
Room 101, Sightless
SAPNA, SAPNA
Sky Pig, It Thrives in Darkness
Sonja, Loud Arriver
Sons of Arrakis, Volume 1
Supersonic Blues, It’s Heavy
Supplemental Pills, Volume 1
Swamp Lantern, The Lord is With Us
UWUW, UWUW
Venus Principle, Stand in Your Light
VoidOath, Ascension Beyond Kokytus
Voidward, Voidward
Yawn, Materialism
Notes:
I struggled this year with what counted as a debut album. As noted above, four-fifths of The Otolith were in a previous band together. Is this a first record or a continuing collaboration? What about Mythosphere, born out of Beelzefuzz? Come to Grief? Edena Gardens? Lydsyn? Ultimately I decided to err on the side of inclusion, as you can see, and count it all. I will not apologize for that.
The Otolith’s Folium Limina stood alone as the year’s best debut, but other personal favorites here were Sky Pig, Mythosphere, Early Moods (who are among the brightest hopes for traditional doom in my mind), Supersonic Blues, Mount Saturn, End Boss, Les Nadie and UWUW, and Edena Gardens — if you’re looking for recommendations of places to start before diving into the weedian mischief of The Gray Goo. Some of these got more hype than others, and there’s a fairly broad range of styles represented, but even as grim as the material on this list gets, these acts and artists are united by the potential they represent for pushing heavy music forward, covering new ground and exploring new ideas as only fresh perspectives can.
At the beginning, I asked you to note how many second LPs were included in the overall list, and it did feel like a lot to me. With the quality in this list as well, I would not expect that to change in the next few years to come, as generational turnover and post-covid reshuffling continue to shake out.
Short Release of the Year 2022
Domkraft & Slomatics, Ascend/Descend Split LP
Other notable EPs, Splits, Demos, etc.:
Ascia, III
Black Math Horseman, Black Math Horseman
Blasting Rod, Mirror Moon Ascending
Bloodshot Buffalo, Light EP
Captain Caravan & Kaiser, Turned to Stone Ch. 6
The Cimmerian, Thrice Majestic
Elephant Tree, Track by Track
Fatso Jetson & All Souls, Live From Total Annihilation
The Freeks, Miles of Blues
Lammping, Stars We Lost
Lightrain, AER
Naxatras, Live in Athens
Pyre Fyre, Rinky Dink City/Slow Cookin’
Red Mesa, Forest Cathedral
Ruby the Hatchet, Live at Earthquaker
Sâver & Frøkedal, Split
Saturna & Electric Monolith, Turned to Stone Ch. 4: Higher Selves
Slugg, Yonder
Temple Fang, Jerusalem/The Bridge
Torpedo Torpedo, The Kuiper Belt Mantras
Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships, Consensus Trance
Warpstormer, Here Comes Hell
Notes:
First I’ll say that of all the lists in this super-listy post, this is the least complete. I don’t know if I just sucked at keeping track of EPs this year, but if you’ve got more you’d like to add to the above, I’m all ears.
Slomatics and Domkraft took the top spot early. Yes, I did the liner notes for that release, but between Majestic Mountain’s presentation of the vinyl, the bands covering each other and their own original work, it was too substantial to not be considered as it is. Temple Fang were a late contender, and I’ll note the work of Torpedo Torpedo and Lightrain, who are newer acts of marked potential as well. I look forward to debut albums from both of them, if not in 2023 then hopefully 2024.
Some live stuff from Elephant Tree, Naxatras, Ruby the Hatchet and Fatso Jetson/All Souls. The always-welcome Lammping. Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships continuing their intriguing progression, Slugg with a single-track statement, Ascia marching forth, Red Mesa branching out — there’s a lot here to dig, even if it’s not everything. Note two of Ripple’s ongoing Turned to Stone split series being included, and the Sâver and Frøkedal split, which was among the year’s boldest outings while still relatively brief. That in itself is a thing to be honored.
Song of the Year 2022
Caustic Casanova, “Bull Moose Against the Sky”
Tracks from Conan, UWUW, Chat Pile, Temple Fang, CB3, The Otolith, Elder, King Buffalo, Ruby the Hatchet, Melt Motif, Forlesen, My Sleeping Karma, Author & Punisher, Church of the Cosmic Skull, -(16)-, River Flows Reverse, Telekinetic Yeti, Wo Fat, on and on and on, were also considered.
But they were considered after the fact of Caustic Casanova’s “Bull Moose Against the Sky.”
The 22-minute side-B-devouring epic tale — multiple speakers and Greek chorus included — spanned progressive Americana, heavy rock and roll, punk, black metal blastbeats, disco keyboards, and historical narrative with nigh-on-impossible fluidity, mining cohesion from confusion in a singular achievement and at a level of execution that most bands simply never touch. Though its purposes were different, I rate “Bull Moose Against the Sky” of a quality that stands alongside the likes of grand declarations like Ancestors’ “First Light” and YOB’s “Marrow” as the kind of song that happens only a couple times in a decade. As I said above, it is the reason I’m including a song-of-the-year section in this post at all. If you have not heard it, I tell you with all sincerity that you’re missing something special.
Looking Ahead to 2023
With the eternal caveat that release plans change and that production delays in vinyl and label release schedules are fluid, malleable things, here are some of the artists I’m watching for in the New Year to come, presented in some semblance of alphabetically:
Ahab, Ahrbeka, Aktopasa, The Awesome Machine, Azken Auzi, Benthic Realm, Big Scenic Nowhere, Bismut, Black Rainbows, Blackwülf, Carlton Melton, Cavern Deep, Child, Church of Misery, Clouds Taste Satanic, Dead Shrine, Dirge, Dozer, Draken, Endtime & Cosmic Reaper, Enslaved, Ethyl Ether, Fatso Jetson & Dali’s Llama, Fever Ray, Fuzz Sagrado, The Golden Grass, Gozu, Graveyard, Greenleaf, Green Lung, Gypsy Chief Goliath & End of Age, Hail the Void, High Leaf, High Priestess, Hippie Death Cult, Iron Void, Isaak, Jack Harlon and the Dead Crows, Katatonia, Kind, Kollapse, KVLL, Lord Mountain, Love Gang, The Machine, Mansion, Mars Red Sky, Mathew’s Hidden Museum, Merlock, Monarch, The Necromancers, Negative Reaction, No Man’s Valley, Obelyskkh, The Obsessed, Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs, Polymoon, Raum Kingdom, REZN, Ridge, Rotor, Ruff Majik, Sacri Monti, Saint Karloff, Seum, Shadow Witch, Siena Root, Solemn Lament, Stinking Lizaveta, Stöner, Super Pink Moon, Tidal Wave, Tranquonauts, Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships, Westing, Witch, Witch Ripper, Witchthroat Serpent, Yawning Balch, Yawning Man, Zeup
Thank you
A bit about what’s gone into making this post: In the ‘Notes’ doc by which I organize the bulk of the part of my life that deals with music, I have sections devoted to the various best-of categories you see above. These are always in progress. I began to keep track of 2022 releases in 2021, just as I’ve begun already to consider what’s in store for 2023 (and beyond). It does not stop.
Because of this, I cannot give you an accurate count of the hours involved in this project, but as it always seems to be, it is the biggest post I’ve written this year — over 8,000 words as of this paragraph, the most time-consuming, and second in importance in my mind only to the results of the year-end poll still to come. On this actual writing, I’ve spent the last week involved in prep work, from early mornings that start at four on my laptop and end when my son (now five) wakes up and immediately demands to watch Sesame Street, to frantically swiping words into my phone in between the sundry tasks of my ensuing day.
I’m not telling you this to brag — in fact I don’t think it’s anything to brag about — but to make the point that without your support, none of this would be worth my time. Year in and year out, I thank you for reading, and the longer I run this site, the more continually astounded I am that anybody beyond myself gives a crap about what goes on here. From the bottom of my heart to the farthest reaches of Hawkwindian space, I am grateful, humbled, and appreciative to my core. Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
And thanks to my wife, The Patient Mrs., through whose support and love all things are possible.
I’m gonna try my damnedest to take tomorrow off, but rest assured, there’s more to come. Here’s to the next round, and thanks again for reading.
Posted in Radio on December 9th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Picking up from last time, and leading into next time, this episode continues the Some of the Best of 2022 coverage for ‘The Obelisk Show,’ and I feel reasonably comfortable assuming that would come through clearly even if I didn’t say it outright.
You’ll note this one starts pretty heavy and aggro with 16. That’s on purpose. My timeslot on Gimme Metal follows artist-guest specials, and I’ve felt at times in the past like it’s a really abrupt shift from most of those — sometimes death metal, grind, and otherwise extreme — and what I do, which is different. I know that’s the point, but I wanted to see if I could make that transition smoother than it otherwise can be. We’ll see how it goes, I guess.
From there, there’s a good amount of branching out, and while this is by no means all of the killer stuff that 2022 has wrought, my hope is that at least some of the sprawl comes through, some of the combination of new and old bands, and so forth. Next episode, which will be #100 and the last one of the year — bit of an event in the life of the show — will continue the thread.
Thanks for listening if you do, thanks for reading if you are.
The Obelisk Show airs 5PM Eastern today on the Gimme app or at: http://gimmemetal.com.
Full playlist:
The Obelisk Show – 12.09.22 (VT = voice track)
-(16)-
The Floor Wins
Into Dust
Telekinetic Yeti
Rogue Planet
Primordial
Cities of Mars
Towering Graves
Cities of Mars
Colour Haze
See the Fools
Sacred
VT
Moura
Lúa vermella
Axexan, Espreitan
Ufomammut
Pyramind
Fenice
MWWB
Logic Bomb
The Harvest
King Buffalo
Avalon
Regenerator
Geezer
Stoned Blues Machine
Stoned Blues Machine
Charley No Face
Big Sleep
Eleven Thousand Volts
My Sleeping Karma
Prema
Atma
Kadavermarch
The Eschaton
Into Oblivion
Ruby the Hatchet
Soothsayer
Fear is a Cruel Master
UWUW
Landlord
UWUW
Caustic Casanova
A Bailar con Cuarentena
Glass Enclosed Nerve Center
Hazemaze
Ceremonial Aspersion
Blinded by the Wicked
VT
E-L-R
Forêt
Vexier
Temple Fang
Jerusalem
Jerusalem/The Bridge
The Obelisk Show on Gimme Metal airs every Friday 5PM Eastern, with replays Sunday at 7PM Eastern. Next new episode is Dec. 23 (subject to change). Thanks for listening if you do.
