If a city could have a sound, Suncraft could hardly be more Oslo in my mind. The five-piece next week (Nov. 21) release their second album, Welcome to the Coven, through All Good Clean Records, and it is identifiably Norwegian in its meld of punk, heavy metal, heavy rock, black metal, and so on. There are moments that are a party — plenty of them, actually, between “Love’s Underrated” early and the one-two punch later of “Charlatan Killer” and “High on Silence” — and places where a desert-riffed charge gives over to angrier moods, but the fluidity with which Suncraft are able to inhabit these musical spaces is so prevalent that in listening by the time you get to “Forgotten Goddess,” it’s almost something you take for granted.

In the lyrical framing, pickslides, verse shouts and thrashy thrust, “Ragebait” starts the record with a modern, genre-aware feel and quickly becomes a blast. Of course there are gang vocals. Of course there are blastbeats. But it’s the way Suncraft bring “Ragebait” back down to mid-level intensity afterward that tells you they’re really in control, and as a herald for what’s to follow on the eight songs/39 minutes of the album, “Ragebait” shows them as all the more dangerous front-to-back. Their 2021 debut, Flat Earth Rider (review here), dug into a similar stylistic nuance, finding the places between where one imaginary genre line ends and the next begins, but Welcome to the Coven doesn’t feel coincidental in directly addressing its audience with the title. The message is that Suncraft learned from the first record and are applying those lessons here.

What follows the cymbal-roll intro of “Ragebait” bears that out, whether it’s the friendlier shove of “Love’s Underrated” winking at Queens of the Stone Age — it’s not the last time that happens, with “Charlatan Killer” later and some desert vibes in “Forgotten Goddess” at the finish — or the barking punk of “Greed Battalion” that turns to black metal and back, making the last turn the most satisfying. Suncraft make flexibility a strength, and without pretense — I mean that; the Ruben Willem (Villjuvet) recording sounds brings rare balance of energy and clarity — the band cast their style not as progressive navelgazing, but as a natural outcome of throwing everyone together in a room and seeing how it goes. The songs, in reality, are more complex than this, but it’s the casual air with which Suncraft obliterate genred ideologies that makes Welcome to the Coven so much gosh darn fun.

It would fall flat if the band didn’t have the confidence, performance or sense of craft behind what they do, but the pointedly-metal-as-frick ending of “Welcome to the Coven” — an apex of charge, at least until “High on Silence” a couple songs later — gives over to “Wizards of the Anger Magic,” and I swear I hear Bad Religion in that riff. It’s incongruous, you understand. On paper, that transition shouldn’t work. The reason it does in this instance is that Suncraft at no point set up an expectation of stylistic rigidity. The more they go wherever they want, in other words, the easier it becomes for the listener to follow them as they go. With this in mind, the momentum of Welcome to the Coven becomes all the more prevalent on repeat playthroughs. It’s even better when you know where the twists are going, and worth the effort of an attentive hearing.

As noted, “Charlatan Killer” and “High on Silence” are highlights, and that has both to do with the way their hooks toy with heavy rock, the former elevated by the standout vocal melody — there’s some processing/effects there, used well — and a major-key revelry that dares toward Torche while keeping early-Mastodon heft and the aforementioned QOTSA in the mix as well. They bring the forward drive of “Charlatan Killer” to a roiling culmination and return to the hook to push it over the top, thereby demanding as much volume as you can give, and clearly had keeping the movement going in mind in placing “High on Silence” immediately after. There’s a falsetto-topped rush in the second half, with another divergence into black metal (not out of place) and double-kick meeting a big-rock solo and a last run through of its chorus; Suncraft have a direction, a plan. They seem perfectly happy to make bludgeoning the crap out of you part of it.

They cap with the longest song in “Forgotten Goddess” (6:30), which ignites with a careen that feels notably ‘for the deaf’ while at the same time tonally thicker and more driven in its charge. A short time later, Suncraft will — while sounding like they’re having such a good time it should probably be illegal — be piling on layers until the real last push starts circa 5:40. They drop out and come back loud to bring the closer to a head and drop out, letting a roll on the ride cymbal be the last thing to go, as if in warning that they might crash back in at any second, or perhaps more, to call back to how “Ragebait” started off and give a warning for next time too.

Do not discount their songwriting prowess because they use it to sound like drunken marauders. In fact, that’s part of the plan too.

Enjoy “Charlatan Killer” on the player below, followed by some words from the band and more from the PR wire:

Suncraft on “Charlatan Killer”:

‘Charlatan Killer’ is perhaps the most unusual song on our sophomore album, Welcome to the Coven, featuring falsetto vocals and plenty of unexpected twists and turns. We wrote it as an antidote to imposter syndrome — something our singer, Rasmus, has struggled with in the past. The song playfully imagines a mystical killer of charlatans who’s out to get you and finally expose your deeply fraudulent, true self.

Sonically, ‘Charlatan Killer’ is a fast-paced, eerie, and droning track where we venture further into strange new territory than our usual blend of stoner and Scandi rock. It was recorded, mixed, and mastered by the eminent Ruben Willem, known for his work with Norwegian rock royalty like Kvelertak and The Good the Bad and the Zugly.

Oslo’s loudest troublemakers Suncraft are back with their new album Welcome to the Coven, due out November 21 via All Good Clean Records.

It’s a fast-paced genre party where stoner rock crashes headfirst into garage rock, black metal, and even a bit of pop punk, all wrapped up in fuzz, sarcasm, and serious rock ’n’ roll nonsense.

Produced by Ruben Willem (Kvelertak, The Good The Bad and The Zugly), this one’s heavy, weird, and wildly fun.

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This week marks the release of White Tundra‘s self-titled debut full-length, as the three-piece hailing from New-Riff Norway (same Norway, new riffs) will issue the eight-tracker through All Good Clean Records. Running 40 minutes, White Tundra follows the 2021 single “Honningfella” (premiered here) and is a modern fuzz overdose, the trio of guitarist/vocalist Steven Kresin, lead guitarist Christoffer Kjørsvik (also album bass) and drummer Ola Fuglevaag crafting huge-sounding spaces with a mind for impact but not necessarily sticking to one methodology between that, as the careening, cowbell-inclusive shove of “Third Floor” demonstrates when set next to the midtempo “…Of the Eath” (premiering below) or the ambient intro “Fra Askeskog” that precedes eight-minute closer “Byting,” the persona of the band very much in line with an up-and-coming league of heavy acts, but the sound carrying a sense of severity one doesn’t always find in something so decisively not metal.

Shades of bands like Vokonis, Spaceslug, maybe a less frenetic Skraeckoedlan in some of their tones or a more frenetic Sungrazer with gravelly, echoing vocals if you want to look at it from the other side. The production is huge no matter how you approach White Tundra‘s White Tundra, and from the heavy post-rock sprawl of album-intro “Erwachen…” through the march and push of “…Of the Earth” they provide the depth in which one might immerse for the amp-frying duration and heft enough to keep the listener couch-locked, whether that the solo over the looped-sounding beat in the second half of “…Of the Earth” or the strident chug of “Find You,” which follows. By the time they get to “Addicted” and “Space Wars” in the middle of the album, they’ve effectively set the context in which the songs take place, and the lumber of “Space Wars” becomes the foundation for one of the record’s most entrancing explorations, a back and forth pattern through the tracklisting assuring that prior single “Third Floor” will keep momentum working in the band’s favor, which it does.

In “Third Floor,” “Space Wars,” “…Of the Earth” and certainly “Byting” and the ambient pieces, one can hear progressive aspects beginning to make themselves known in White Tundra‘s sound, and while one wouldn’t be surprised particularly to hear those come to further realization on subsequent releases, I’m not sure I’m willing to predict where the band will go and if they’ll bring the concrete-crunch tones that chug away in “Byting” with them. They could make five more records that sound just like this and be fine, but there’s growth from the single and the way their material functions throughout this initial collection lends the impression that they’re mindful of bringing variety to their songwriting — that they’re aware the songs they write can and do serve different purposes — which could be a big hint has to future direction and ambitions. Here, the production of Bismarck‘s Leif Herland brings out the physicality of White Tundra‘s crunch, representing their heft well for what will be a first impression for many who take them on. Wherever they may be headed stylistically, White Tundra is a debut worthy of the size of its own sound, and considering, that’s saying something.

Please enjoy “…Of the Earth” below, followed by a few words from the band, the preorder link, and so on:

White Tundra on “…Of the Earth”:

“…Of the Earth is the story of a new earth rising up in the aftermath of the old broken one. This is the second track on the album following the intro track Erwachen… (means “awakening” in German) which is a build-up to the rest of the album as well as …of the Earth. It was one of the first songs we wrote for the album and it kind of sets the tone for the rest of the album regarding to sound and songwriting with a bit more melodic riffs than we have produced before. This might be the most headbanging-friendly song on the album, and we are really happy with the groove on …of the Earth. The lyrics can be interpreted as either positive or pure doomsday prophecies depending on your mood.”

Pre-order link: https://whitetundra.bandcamp.com/album/white-tundra

White Tundra has been around since 2018 with core members Ola Fuglevaag (drums) and Steven Kresin (vocals / guitar) as the creative driving forces behind White Tundra’s music. Despite some line up changes they have stayed true to their sound and continued writing and recording new music. The EP “Graveyard Blues” was released digitally in 2020 and on MC in 2021 and the 7” vinyl single “Honningfella” came out the same year. 2022 was spent recording their self titled debut album with new guitarist Christoffer Kjørsvik who also plays in Norwegian black metal band Sworn.

Produced by the band along with Leif Herland at Polyfon Studios, mastered by Rhys Marsh at Autumnsongs Recording Studio and featuring the artwork of Thomas Moe Ellefsrud from HypnotistDesign, “White Tundra” is set for release digitally and on vinyl on October 27th via All Good Clean Records.

Line-up:
Steven Kresin: Vocals and guitar
Christoffer Kjørsvik: Lead guitar (and bass guitar on the album)
Ola Fuglevaag: Drums

White Tundra, White Tundra (2023)

White Tundra on Facebook

White Tundra on Instagram

White Tundra on Bandcamp

All Good Clean Records on Facebook

All Good Clean Records website

It’s been a minute, but Norwegian trio White Tundra did a premiere here in 2021 for their single “Honningfella” and I recall digging it a lot. If you haven’t yet gotten on board with New Heavy Norway — acts like Slomosa, Dune Sea, Kryptograf, Kanaan, Bismarck (whose Leif Herland produced here), Saint Karloff, not to mention Black Moon Circle, SÂVER or Kal-El, the grandmasters Motorpsycho (not that they’re exactly ‘new’) or anyone else in the full musical spectrum of creativity taking place in the country as we speak, White Tundra right in it — I can only recommend doing so by whatever avenue you might choose to take to get there. It’s a vibrant underground, with scene pockets in Trondheim, Oslo, etc., and for the last several years it’s been churning out quality first and second records like they were lutefisk, and by the end of this decade, yeah, some of these acts will restructure, disband, and so on, but those that remain will be all the more strident.

Those are generalizations, if things I genuinely believe. To be more specific to White Tundra, the trio are getting set to release a self-titled LP at the end of this month through All Good Clean Records. It is, in fact, their debut, and the shove and semi-burl of “Third Floor” is the second single from it. Why didn’t I post the first? Because as I’ve been telling you for years now, I’m terrible at this. After you take a listen to the White Tundra track and maybe check out the other 10 Norwegian bands I just suggested, you should maybe think about taking your business elsewhere. Ha.

From the PR wire:

White Tundra – Norwegian Stoner Rock Trio Announce Self-Titled New Album

Release New Song “Third Floor”

October 27th through All Good Clean Records, the collective recently unveiled another song off the album through their Bandcamp page.

Titled “Third Floor”, this new track is now playing at this location: https://whitetundra.bandcamp.com/track/third-floor

Produced by the band along with Leif Herland at Polyfon Studios, mastered by Rhys Marsh at Autumnsongs Recording Studio and featuring the artwork of Thomas Moe Ellefsrud from Hypnotist Design, “White Tundra” journeys through heavy atmospheric melodies, across the dusty tundra and through murky woods. Subtle pulses, inspired by black metal soundscapes White Tundra stays true to their earlier material’s orientation with accentuating pace and slow riffing. Pre-order the album and stream leading single Erwachen at this location.

White Tundra has been around since 2018 with core members Ola Fuglevaag (drums) and Steven Kresin (vocals / guitar) as the creative driving forces behind White Tundra’s music. Despite some line up changes they have stayed true to their sound and continued writing and recording new music. The EP “Graveyard Blues” was released digitally in 2020 and on MC in 2021 and the 7” vinyl single “Honningfella” came out the same year. 2022 was spent recording their self titled debut album with new guitarist Christoffer Kjørsvik who also plays in Norwegian black metal band Sworn.

Line-up:
Steven Kresin: Vocals and guitar
Christoffer Kjørsvik: Lead guitar (and bass guitar on the album)
Ola Fuglevaag: Drums

https://www.facebook.com/WhiteTundraBand
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https://store.allgoodcleanrecords.com

White Tundra, White Tundra (2023)

White Tundra, “Third Floor”

Trondheim, Norway-based heavy psychedelic rockers Dune Sea release their third album, Orbital Distortion, this Friday, Nov. 11, through All Good Clean Records. It is a record whose attention to detail takes the band’s songwriting to a new level, and as the follow-up to 2020’s Moons of Uranus (review here) and their 2019 self-titled debut (review here), it feels very much like a realization and manifestation of what’s been their driving intention all along. The trio of vocalist/guitarist/synthesist Ole Nogva, bassist/synthesist Petter Solvik Dahle and drummer Viktor Olsen Kristensen (also percussion) reach beyond the confines of microgenre to craft a vision of psych rock that’s informed by, among other things, Norse culture, modern cosmic stylings, fuzz fuzz fuzz, and an underlying current of prog that’s as much heard in “Astro Chimp” as the violin on “Hubro.” To say it plainly, Orbital Distortion is gorgeous and expansive, individualized in its craft and admirably broad in its scope, with lyrics switching between delivery in English and Norwegian, brief jammy stretches that would sound made up on the spot if they weren’t so thoughtfully executed, with even a bit of space disco for good measure. Can’t go wrong.

The eight component pieces of Orbital Distortion are longer on average than were the tracks on Moons of Uranus, and where that album had seven of 10 total tracks under four minutes long, the newer LP has one of the total eight in its utterly-manageable 39-minute runtime, but the point is in how that time is spent. From the misleading, almost-Nebula-esque sneer in the early verse of “Astro Chimp” that unfolds into an inviting hook to the nod to extreme metal in closer “Hevn,” Dune Sea make a resounding argument for the benefits of artists listening to music outside their own style. There’s influences from Britpop and hip-hop, indie rock, various world folk musics and beyond as Orbital Distortion unfolds, and by the time “Astro Chimp” is done, the trio have not only displayed these wares but still found room to redirect to a standout riff at the end. In this way, the lead cut sets the tone for the rest of what follows in that it is masterful, composed and rife with purpose. Even in longer pieces like “Hubro,” “Anesthesia” and “Hevn,” which stretch past five minutes — the closer tops seven and is the longest piece Dune Sea have written to-date — the band maintain telltale poise and guide their listener through their deeply varied material with a sure and welcoming hand.

“Hubro” introduces the violin and Norwegian lyrics, some shaker percussion and a deceptively sharp-edged riff nodding into a light shove boogie verse with acoustic guitar layered in. There’s a layered wash in the midsection, quickly-enough resolved back to the catchy guitar line. Bands have made careers with less sonic breadth than Dune Sea show in this 5:28, but the point is there’s room enough in their sound to accommodate whatever changes come as they move toward and through the hook, still using stylization as a tool rather than a standard to uphold. In “Euphorialis” and “Draugen,” which follow and continue to alternate between languages.

The acoustic guitar is held over, but “Euphorialis” brings the bass up front and hits harder on the drums, the guitar stretching out as a bed for the echoing psych vocals. They depart into a jam, return, go again, holding to a space rock tension but not fully committing to it or aping neo-psych bounce (kudos on avoiding the temptation), even as the song explodes into its repetitions of the title in the second half, which is an effective transition into “Draugen,” which ups the metallic quotient in harsher layers of backing vocals, vital fuzz, shades of folk metal, prog, Bowie. It is dynamic and a vocal highlight, but not by any means the only one and not relying strictly on the vocals to get its point across as the engrossing fuzz guitar swells for the next turnaround to the chorus.

It’s notable that as “Draugen” crashes out at 3:30, the instrumental stretch that comprises the rest of the song feels specifically culled from an All Them Witches influence, but is perhaps more Norwegiana than Americana, and that’s a fit for the lead guitar line that starts “Gargantua” as well, which is more decisively folk metal in its twists — Amorphis‘ “Forever More” is a relevant comparison point — even as its verse taps into a meditative psych that “Trinity” will push further, blending aspects of Middle Eastern pop into its guitar and keyboard lines. An extra layer of percussion (or at least what sounds like one) bolsters the sans-lyrics chorus, while the verse pattern of the vocals actually sets the march.

At 4:21, “Trinity” feels like it ends where for a lot of bands it would most likely just be taking off into some meandering progression or other, but Dune Sea made the right choice to serve the song as it is in ending it where they do, and that’s emblematic of their ethic overall in how Orbital Distortion is structured and built, one song into the next, each one making the record stronger. There’s a fakeout ending before “Trinity” gives way to “Anesthesia” — good fun, quick — and the penultimate track starts riffier but doesn’t shy away from poppier melody in its bassline or the wash that arrives with the chorus. Keys, guitar, vocals, all pushed by the drums, surround and touch on metallic angularity, but are thoroughly progged and refuse to be one single thing or style, even as the lead guitar holds an adjacent position to the central movement of the piece in such classic style. Another tonal highlight, “Anesthesia” gives way to an answer to the instrumental finish of “Draugen,” with mellow, feedback-laced guitar fading to silence from which “Hevn” rises.

Rises and runs. The gallop isn’t quite immediate, but it’s not far off. A rougher edge pushes “Hevn”‘s vocals down in the mix so they too can be swept up in the cosmic boogie, which unfolds something like Hawkwind fighting Iron Maiden with Devin Townsend as referee. A positively dreamy midsection, delivered confident, resolute, becomes a progressive-style chug with acoustic guitar and synth tied in, moving into a suitable but not at all overblown finale. To say it’s classy is perhaps underselling some of its bite, but whatever flawed and inherently-at-least-partially-inaccurate genre-based descriptors one might want to use to position this or that measure of a given piece, Orbital Distortion‘s ultimate triumph is moving past these concerns while keeping the band’s established modus of writing short(er), mostly tight-knit songs.

That is the foundation from which their third album soars, and it absolutely does soar. If this is going to be Dune Sea‘s progression — because they in no way sound ready to rest on laurels — then they are on their way to becoming something truly special as a group. One had high hopes coming off of Moons of Uranus, goofily titled as it was. Those hopes have been surpassed and then some by Orbital Distortion. This band deserves your time.

You’ll find the full stream of Orbital Distortion below. I’m honored to host it.

Please enjoy:

Dune Sea on Orbital Distortion:

On the new album we have evolved our songwriting to longer tracks, and included a Norwegian-folk music vibe to some of the songs. This is also the first time we have included Norwegian lyrics. With only eight songs, we have focused on each individual one being almost in a genre itself, with its own sound and production/idea. This time we also include elements of acoustic guitar, violin and screamed vocals by guest appearances. That said, the good space rock/stoner feeling is always safely placed at the bottom.

Since their self-titled debut album in 2019, Dune Sea have establish themselves as a solid part of the Norwegian psych-scene. Their psych-space rock universe has expanded for every release and on this effort it seems like they have left the Earth for good to cruise throughout the cosmos.

Line-Up:
Ole Nogva – Vocals, guitar, and synthesizer
Petter Solvik Dahle – Bass and synthesizer
Viktor Olsen Kristensen – Drums and percussion

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All Good Clean Records website

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It’ll be just about two years on Nov. 11 when Trondheim trio Dune Sea release Orbital Distortion as the follow-up to 2020’s Moons of Uranus (review here) and only over three since their 2019 self-titled debut (review here), but maturity seems to be coming quickly to the Norwegian outfit as they present “Hubro” as the new single from the impending release. All Good Clean Records is once more behind the offering, and a surely as ‘c’ is for ‘cowabunga,’ the track streaming below is a heavy cosmic rocker that, even just at five minutes, has reach well beyond where the airplanes go.

I got hit up to do a premiere for this record, and space is tight between now and the 11th, but I’m gonna see if I can’t make something happen in that regard anyway. A lot of the younger-bands heavy rock attention these days is on Slomosa and Kanaan, who’ve been out touring hard and earning it to be sure, but Dune Sea do something a little more about texture and atmosphere, and show that if you’re looking at the up and coming generation of outfits — that is, no grey beards in the press photos — there’s no shortage of aural diversity emerging between different bands.

Also, Trondheim. I damn near got on a train from Oslo earlier this month on a whim just to see the place where so much right on music comes from. Alas, my tourist card remains unpunched in this regard.

From the PR wire:

Dune Sea – Norwegian Psych/Stoner-Rockers Share New Song “Hubro”

Norwegian psych/stoner rockers Dune Sea have recently shared a new song off their third album “Orbital Distortion”, which is set for release on November 11th via All Good Clean Records.

Titled “Hubro”, this song is the first taster of what’s to expect from “Orbital Distortion” and sees the Norwegian trio delving further into space rock, taking off for a grand musical journey into outer space.

Since their self-titled debut album in 2019, Dune Sea have establish themselves as a solid part of the Norwegian psych-scene. Their psych-space rock universe has expanded for every release and with their upcoming 3rd album “Orbital Distortion” it seems like they have left the Earth for good cruising though the cosmos.

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https://dunesea1.bandcamp.com/

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http://www.allgoodcleanrecords.com
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Dune Sea, “Hubro”

Norwegian heavy rockers Suncraft release their debut album, Flat Earth Rider, on Aug. 6 through All Good Clean Records. In the vast annals of modern conspiracy theory, those who are committed to the notion of the planet being a disc which one might one day go off the side — ridiculous; reality as a holographic simulation, on the other hand… — are ultimately harmless, at least in comparative terms, and as Suncraft‘s first full-length following behind a few Spotify-able singles likewise content to dig into its own stylistic niche, throw a burly elbow here and there en route to hard-hitting, forward push hooks, but especially early on in “Flat Earth Rider” and “Space Buddha,” the Oslo four-piece seem to be exploring their way through songwriting toward establishing their sound and discovering who they are as a band. The double-guitars of Sigurd Grøtan and Vebjørn Rindal Krogstad lead that charge and boast duly charged leads, while bassist Rasmus Skage Jensen serves vocal duties and drummer Tobias Paulsen patiently awaits the next change requiring a fluid transition, leading the riffs from inside the pocket.

Jensen‘s vocals get into gruffer fare in “Flat Earth Rider,” centerpiece “Lingo Hive Mind,” and here and there throughout “Commie Cannibals and even the more spacious “Adaptation” ahead of the 11-minute closer “Bridges to Nowhere” (premiering below), but the delivery is more dynamic than, say, a cleaner verse and shouted chorus, or vice versa. It might be a line or two with a throatier delivery, then back to a burgeoning melody making a song like “Space Buddha” or “Lingo Hive Mind” less predictable for the single fact that one is less sure where it’s going to turn next, even if the underlying structures are largely straightforward. These clever arrangements, coupled with the ability of the guitars to push the energy of a song forward with a sense of build to which the drums are only suited, help to give Flat Earth Rider its sonic persona, which doesn’t seem to be taking itself too seriously but can bear significant heft when inclined to do so, as in the rolling chorus of “Commie Cannibals” or the early verses of “Bridges to Nowhere,” which opens in its midsection to more complex melodic layering before surging outward and paying off the touches of metallic aggression and progressive heavy rock that have shown themselves across the six-song span to that point.

That span is manageable at 37 minutes and of course vinyl-ready with the atmospheric echo of “Adaptation” signifying a shift to side B even digitally, but that movement becomes important to someone making their way through the entirety, and it feels like another level on which Suncraft‘s potential shines through. The rougher-edged moments bring to mind Orange Goblin from the title-track onward, and “Flat Earth Rider” indeed sets the tone for side A with the hooks of “Space Buddha,” “Lingo Hive Mind” — for which I’d love to read the lyrics; getting a very “guess I’ll go live on the internet” kind of vibe from what I can discern — and the more weighted, longer “Commie Cannibals” acting as a bookend for what’s almost the first of two mini-albums, with “Adaptation” and “Bridges to Nowhere” serving as the second, broader in ambition but holding to a lack of pretense on the whole. All of this rounds out to an affect that makes me less concerned about where Suncraft are going — surely not off the end of the earth — than where they are now.

Their songcraft is obviously in capable hands, and their performance is energetic without losing the thread of its own purpose in being part of the larger album as a whole. If you were looking for an encouraging debut from a relative-newcomer heavy rock band, well, that’s one thing you can tick off your to-do list for today. Cheers. Take the rest of the afternoon off.

Enjoy “Bridges to Nowhere” on the player below, followed by some comment from the band and more info from the PR wire.

Dive in:

Suncraft on “Bridges to Nowhere”:

“Bridges to Nowhere” is the closing track on Suncraft’s debut album, Flat Earth Rider. A ten-minute, ever-changing epic, the song is a journey of a listen, not holding back on anything the band has to offer. Heavy stoner rock riffs, impactful build-ups, thrash-metal-like choruses, riveting guitar solos and intense blast-beats are some of the features to expect. Lyrically, the song is about alienation from a commodity-based society, as seldom knowing where the commodities we buy come from, who made them and why, can make us feel disconnected from others. The song gradually turns from despair to hope and optimism, insisting that a better future is possible.

“Flat Earth Rider” was produced, mixed and mastered by Ruben Willem (The Good The Bad and The Zugly, Okkultokrati, Djevel, etc…) and features six unique tracks that show Suncraft combining elements from groovy stoner rock and riff-based heavy metal.

Since late 2017, this Oslo-based quartet have played their fair share of club shows in the nooks and crannies of Norway, honing the craft of playing explosively energetic concerts. After releasing released their debut EP, “Saigon” in 2019, the live-performances abruptly ended due to Covid-19. Turning the blow of the pandemic into a positive, the boys put all their efforts into writing their debut album, “Flat Earth Rider” and as soon as the world is safe enough, Suncraft will hit the road again and bring their unique flavor of rock n’ roll to a growing audience.

Line-up:
Rasmus Skage Jensen: Bass/Vocal
Tobias Paulsen: Drums
Sigurd Grøtan: Guitar
Vebjørn Rindal Krogstad: Guitar

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Norwegian heavy rockers White Tundra release their new seven-inch single Honningfella on June 11 through All Good Clean Records. The Trondheim-based four-piece released their Graveyard Blues EP last March — the same week the world ended, more or less — and seem well within their rights to follow it up with a two-songer that stretches the limits of the 7″ format at a meaty 11 minutes in length. It’s an affair defined in no small part by its brashness, and as the title-track remains wildly catchy, propelled into imaginary entire-drunken-venue singalongs, fists in the air and the like by its non-lyric “whoa-whoa-whoooa” chorus following the plundering path of the coinciding riff, it’s still a bruiser, make no mistake. Some of those fists in the air are landing punches.

So it was on the EP as well, that four-song offering digging into vibes like earlier Clutch or Orange Goblin circa 2005. Heavy. Beery. Swaggering. White Tundra‘s rawness is accented by the vocals, but by no means limited to them. The guitar fuzz pushes out of both channels, and the cymbal crash behind cuts through with a punkish sense of straightforwardness. They’re a heavy rock band, but “Honningfella” delights in its rougher edge, and is all the more exciting for that, breaking in its midsection only to resume the circle-pit-but-nobody’s-a-dick-about-it shove to close out.

Thus ensues the more fuzz-forward “One More Place,” which tips over the six-minute line and makes a fitting B-side, following the immediacy of the prior cut with a groove that’s distinct but complementary. Stops in the verse let the lyrics pop out but they’re still willfully mumbled en route to the shoutier chorus and that’s just fine. The sort of inebriated primitivism on display remains good fun throughout, and they give it a little extra oomph at the end that feels bolstered by the mix and master from Truckfighters‘ own Niklas Källgren at the famed Studio Bombshelter, finishing with a solo on top of another duly electrified progression.

Thinking album? Yeah, they might be. And between what they show on Honningfella and Graveyard Blues they might have enough different looks to get there, but at this point, one of their assets is that they sound like a new band feeling out the stylistic ground they want to cover. White Tundra know their influences, sure enough, and they know what they’re going for, but the process of discovering how to manifest that is something precious, and it’s more important that they keep writing songs at this point than that they set themselves to some grander task. If a record happens or there’s some longer-form story they want to tell, bonus. But for a group so very clearly reveling in the pummel of these tracks, their best course would seem to be to keep going with what they’re doing and let the rest sort itself out naturally.

In any case, the single’s a blast. You’ll find it streaming on the player below, followed by a few words from the band.

Enjoy:

White Tundra on “Honingfella”:

‘Honningfella’ means ‘honey trap’ in Norwegian. The lyrics spins around the occult and undefined fear of the darkness and unseen but also obvious traps hidden behind beauty or gullibility. The theme in Honningfella is symbolised in the artwork of the single.

Active for the last four years, White Tundra have released one EP titled “Graveyard Blues” on All Good Clean Records last year and now are back with a new 7inch “Honningfella” to be released once again on All Good Clean Records.

Recorded in Trondheim, mixed and mastered by Niklas Källgren of Truckfighters and Enigma Experience at his studio Bombshelter, “Honningfella” is deeply rooted in the dirtier side of stoner rock, displaying a heavy riffage and uncompromising rhythms inspired by the likes of Monster Magnet, Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats and Skraeckoedlan.

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[Click play above to stream Dune Sea’s Moons of Uranus in its entirety. Album is out Nov. 13 on All Good Clean Records.]

It’s a big universe, so why shouldn’t Dune Sea find a place of their own in it? The Norwegian trio embark on a niche recon with their second full-length in as many years, Moons of Uranus, and so take the delightful genre meld of their self-titled debut (review here) and push it a year and a half later into a kind of cross-franchise hyperdrive. Dropping references to “Sarlacc” and “Tusken” from Star Wars, “First Contact” from Star Trek and “Draw 4” from the card game Uno along their way, the three-piece of guitarist/vocalist/synthesist Ole Nogva, bassist Petter Solvik Dahle and new drummer Viktor Olsen Kristensen (joined in place of Erik Bråten, who played on the last album) pull likewise from various heavy style elements, tearing into a classically strutting solo on “Tusken” atop a rolling bassline only to  push into semi-motorik beatmaking on “Air” and minor-key mysticism on “Oracle.”

Nogva, who founded the band, is a key presence throughout, but from the garage doom swagger of “First Contact” at the outset — where else to put such a song? — the growth of the band is evident in how they work to make their sound their own, creative runs of synthesizer adding flourish and nuance to the material as they go. At their thickest, as with the dug-in low end of the title-track, where they might remind of some of Spaceslug‘s melody-in-vacuum, but Dune Sea songs move in a way that holds firm to their heavy rock underpinnings, so that even while the telltale fuzz of “Shaman” might sound like British Steel in space, it’s not disjointed from its surroundings for that. Or at least not any more than it’s intended to be. Running 10 songs and 34 minutes, Moons of Uranus is manageable and thoroughly unpretentious for the apparent ease with which it engulfs microgenres and regurgitates them like a suddenly active Martian volcano, and the more one listens, the more one is ingrained into its methods.

This is accomplished in part through a deceptive clarity of purpose and structure beneath all the aesthetic shuffling. “First Contact” is a cry for assistance into the void — so, timely — and rushes behind its first of two keyboard solos, but its pleading “Please turn around/Please come back/We need your help/Please come back,” is a memorable first impression and while structurally grounded, the theme of interstellar communication bolsters the kosmiche excursions that follow. Are Dune Sea more grounded than they were a year ago? I don’t think so, but I’m also not sure that’s the right question to be asking, since the debut proved so well the solidity of their foundation. What one finds through “Shaman” and the subsequent two-and-a-half-minute space rocker “Absinthe Blues” is that the band’s vision of heavy psychedelia is encompassing, and whether that’s conjuring modes of space, fuzz, ’70s heavy or prog rocks, they’re able to bring whatever they do into the sphere of these proceedings.

“Tusken” puts the melody line of the keyboards forward and is stronger for that turn after the more guitar-minded “Absinthe Blues,” but its rhythmic foundation in Dahle‘s punchy bass tone and Kristensen‘s crash-happy drumming is so set that there’s never a question about whether Dune Sea will return from however far out they venture. And they do. And efficiently. By the time side A closes with the title-track — also the longest song yet at just 4:06 — they have wasted not a minute of Moons of Uranus‘ time or the listener’s, and even in the atmospheric introduction to “Moons of Uranus” itself, the stage is being set for an instrumental hook and an explosion of spacious wash that’s immersive and propulsive in kind. That too is not any longer than it needs to be, and in the fading of residual melody, one almost imagines the band reminding themselves to keep it quick, not allowing themselves to veer too far away from the central intent of their craft.

Side B’s “Air” is the second of only three songs over the four-minute mark in terms of runtime — the other is the closer “Globe of Dust”; longest at 4:48 — and it brings together guitar and synth with a riff born out of classic heavy and a verse chug that’s rife with personality and tonal detailing matched in rhythm by the tambourine that moves along with the drums. The sound is warm but gives way to a standalone keyboard solo before bouncing back in a way perhaps as to signal that the second half of Moons of Uranus will stretch even broader than did the first. So be it. “Air” rolls to its end ahead of the speedy “Draw 4” with its there-and-gone two-minute run that still manages somehow to evoke folk metal in its middle and then turn back to its verse like nothing ever happened, turning the procession over to “Oracle,” which is clearly positioned a moment of contemplation. Vocals are deeper in the mix, guitars are forward and meditative if still somewhat impatient, and it’s not until nearly three minutes in that they crash into a bout of Sabbathian riffing that serves as the apex or perhaps revelation in keeping with the “Oracle” theme.

That side B sense of departure is lived up to in some of the disjointedness between “Air” and “Draw 4” and “Oracle” and “Sarlacc” is tasked with reorienting the audience ahead of the finale, which it does through layered space-echo vocals and forward charge, winding but inviting for all that. It does its job, and “Globe of Dust” follows with a lurch more resonant for its echoing snare pops in its verse and the transmuted “Iron Man” riff of its bridge, marching like Witch blasted to their molecules before at last in their final minute, Dune Sea find synthy glories to behold, a tunnel perhaps of bright-light slipstream that consumes the track, the band, and whatever else might happen across its gravitational field. Given the quick turnaround even with a lineup change and the aspects carried over from the debut, easy to think of Moons of Uranus as a next step in the band’s process of developing their sound and their methods on the whole. If that’s the case, it’s an engaging one, and it still holds promise for what they might accomplish as they push further into uncharted cosmos.

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