Posted in Whathaveyou on January 13th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Bergen, Norway, progressive heavy classicists Kryptograf will issue their second full-length, The Eldorado Spell, on Feb. 25, following up on their 2021 single release for the track “Cosmic Suicide,” which is set to feature as well on the LP. That’s fortunate, because I’ve still got the track on my desktop waiting to write about it from when it came out last year. So it goes. I get to these things eventually.
The four-piece outfit have a new lyric video for the aforementioned track, and that’s nifty for those who’ve been doing a better job of keeping up than I, and The Eldorado Spell will also be their answer back to the warm tones and melodic flourish of their 2020 self-titled debut (discussed here), promising a heavier punch that’s fair enough to expect given both “Cosmic Suicide” and album-closer “The Well,” which was also released as a single last Fall.
For those who (also) like to plan ahead, I already hit up the parties involved and am currently slated to stream the full album on Monday, Feb. 21, with a review. Calendar’s marked for it, so keep an eye out. Till then, here are the details off the PR wire:
KRYPTOGRAF To Release New Album The Eldorado Spell in February
New Single Online.
Kryptograf is back with their second album The Eldorado Spell, to be released in February 25th on Apollon Records.
Old school heaviness from Bergen, Norway – and this time the heaviness has been cranked up even more!
Following up on the success of their self-titled debut album from 2020, Kryptograf’s sophomore album titled The Eldorado Spell takes everything even further back to the 70s.
Inspired by the heavy sound of the late 60s and 70s, the four old souls in Kryptograf from Bergen, Norway will hex you with their collective vocals, destructive riffs and inventive songwriting.
Kryptograf is an eclectic but fiercely focused addition to the doomy Bergen underground.
Artist: Kryptograf Title: The Eldorado Spell Format: LP, CD, Digital Label: Apollon Records Distribution: Plastic Head Distribution Genre: Heavy/ Doom Rock Release Date: 25/02/2022
Tracklist 1. Asphodel 2. Cosmic Suicide 3. Lucifer’s Hand 4. Creeping Willow 5. Across The Creek 6. The Eldorado Spell 7. The Spiral 8. When The Witches 9. Wormwood 10. The Well
Posted in Reviews on December 16th, 2021 by JJ Koczan
Day four. Fancy pants. Yesterday was the most effective writing day I’ve had in recent memory, which makes today kind of a harrowing prospect since the only real way to go after that is down. I’ve done the try-to-get-a-jump-on-it stuff, but you never really know how things are going to turn out until your head’s in it and you’re dug into two or three records. We’ll see how it goes. There’s a lot to dig into today though, in a pretty wide range of sounds, so that helps. I’ll admit there are times when it’s like, “What’s another way to say ‘dudes like to riff?'”
As if I’d need another way.
Anyhoozle, hope you find something you dig, as always. If not, still one more day tomorrow. We’ll get there. Thanks for reading.
Quarterly Review #31-40:
Dang!!!, Sociopathfinder
It would take all the space I’ve allotted for this review to recount the full lineup involved in making DANG!!!‘s debut album, Sociopathfinder, but the powerhouse Norwegian seven-piece has former members of The Cosmic Dropouts, Gluecifer, Nashville Pussy, and Motorpsycho, among others, and Kvelertak drummer Håvard Takle Ohr, so maybe it shouldn’t be a surprise they get down to serious business on the record. With influences spanning decades from the ’60s-gone’90s organ-laced electro-rock of “Long Gone Misery” and the Halloween-y “Degenerate,” to the rampaging heavy rock hooks of “Manic Possessive” and “Good Intentions” and the “In the Hall of the Mountain King”-referencing closer “Eight Minutes Till Doomsday,” the 12-song/46-minute outing is a lockdown-defiant explosion of creative songwriting and collaboration, and though it features no fewer than six guitarists throughout (that includes guests), it all flows together thanks to the strength of craft, urgency of rhythm, and Geir Nilsen‘s stellar work on organ. It’s a lot to take on, but pays off any effort put in. Unless you’re a sociopath, I guess. Then you probably don’t feel it at all.
Following up their 2019 debut, People (review here), Swedish classic-heavy trio Stew offer an efficient nine-song/38-minute excursion into ’70s/’10s-inspired boogie rock and heavy blues with Taste, balancing modern production and its own yore-born aesthetic in sharp but not overly-clean fashion. The vocal layering in the back half of opener “Heavy Wings” is a clue to the clarity underlying the band’s organic sound, and while Taste sounds fuller than did People, the bounce of “All That I Need,” the blues hooks in “Keep on Praying” and “Still Got the Time,” subtle proto-metallurgy of “New Moon” (one almost hears barking at it) and the wistful closing duo of “When the Lights Go Out” and “You Don’t Need Me” aren’t so far removed from the preceding outing as to be unrecognizable. This was a band who knew what they wanted to sound like on their first album who’ve set about refining their processes. Taste checks in nicely on that progress and shows it well underway.
Are the crows I hear cawing on “Tyrant of the Unreal” actually in the song or outside my window? Does it matter? I don’t know anymore. Los Angeles-based psychological terror rock unit Nothing is Real reportedly conjured the root tracks for the 87-minute 2CD Transmissions of the Unearthly with guest drummer Jeremy Lauria over the course of two days and the subsequent Halloween release has been broken into two parts: ‘Chaos’ and ‘Order.’ Screaming blackened psychedelia haunts the former, while the latter creeps in dark, raw sludge realization, but one way or the other, the prevailing sensory onslaught is intentionally overwhelming. The slow march of “King of the Wastelands” might actually be enough to serve as proclamation, and where in another context “Sickened Samsara” would be hailed as arthouse black-metal-meets-filthy–psych-jazz, the delivery from Nothing is Real is so sincere and untamed that the horrors being explored do in fact feel real and are duly disconcerting and wickedly affecting. Bleak in a way almost entirely its own.
After immersing the listener with the keyboard-laced opening instrumental “Alektorophobia” (fear of chickens), the third album from UK outfit Jerky Dirt, Orse, unfolds the starts and stops of “Ygor’s Lament” with a sensibility like earlier Queens of the Stone Age gone prog before moving into the melodic highlight “Orse, Part 1” and the acoustic “Eh-Iss.” By the time the centerpiece shuffler “Ozma of Oz” begins, you’re either on board or you’re not, and I am. Despite a relatively spare production, Jerky Dirt convey tonal depth effectively between the fuzz of “Ygor’s Lament” and the more spacious parts of “In Mind” that give way to larger-sounding roll, and some vocal harmonies in “The Beast” add variety in the record’s second half before the aptly-named “Smoogie Boogie” — what else to call it, really? — and progressive melody of “Orse, Part 2” close out. A minimal online presence means info on the band is sparse, it may just be one person, but the work holds up across Orse on multiple listens, complex in craft but accessible in execution.
A scouring effort of weirdo horror heavy, the five-track Lunacy from South Carolina’s Space Coke isn’t short on accuracy, seemingly on any level. The swirl of nine-minute opener “Bride of Satan” is cosmic but laced with organ, underlying rumble, far-back vocals and sundry other elements that are somehow menacing. The subsequent “Alice Lilitu” is thicker-toned for at least stretches of its 13 minutes, and its organ feels goth-born as it moves past the midpoint, but the madness of a solo that ensues from there feels well cast off (or perhaps on, given the band’s moniker) the rails. Shit gets strange, people. “Frozen World” is positively reachable by comparison, though it too has its organ drama, and the ensuing “Lightmare” starts with an extended horror sample before fuzzing and humming out six minutes of obscure incantation and jamming itself into oblivion. Oh, and there’s a cover of Danzig‘s “Twist of Cain” at the end. Because obviously. Doom filtered through goth kitsch-horror VHS tape and somewhere behind you something is lurking and you don’t see it coming until it’s too late.
Broken into two halves each given its own intro in “Intervention” and “Celestial Convoy,” respectively, the debut full-length from Stockholm’s Black Solstice brings back some familiar faces in guitarist Anders Martinsgård and drummer Peter Eklund, both formerly of Ponamero Sundown. Ember, with flourish of percussion in “Signs of Wisdom,” grunge-style harmonies in “Burned by the Sun” and just a hint of winding thrashy threat in “Firespawn,” is deeply rooted in doom metal. They count Sabbath as primary, but the 10-track/42-minute offering is more metal than stonerized riff worship, and with vocalist “Mad Magnus” Lindmark and bassist Lelle B. Falheim completing the lineup, the four-piece boast an aggressive edge and hit harder than one might initially think going in. That is no complaint, mind you. Perhaps they’re not giving themselves enough credit for the depth of their sound, but as their first long-player (following a few demos), Ember finds a niche that hints toward the familiar without going overboard in tropes. I don’t know who, but someone in this band likes Megadeth.
Begun as Paleskin before a probably-for-the-best name change, Tampere, Finland’s Dome Runner offer a hard-industrial bridge between Godflesh at their angriest and earliest Fear Factory‘s mechanized chugging assault. Conflict State Design is the trio’s first full-length, and along with the stated influences, there’s some pull from sludge and noise as well, shades of Fudge Tunnel in “Unfollow” met with harsh screaming or the churning riff underscoring the explosions of synth in “The Undemonizing Process,” like roughed-up Souls at Zero-era Neurosis. With the seven-minute extreme wash of “Impure Utility of Authoritarian Power Structure” at its center, Conflict State Design harkens back to the dreary industrialism of two decades ago — it very pointedly doesn’t sound like Nine Inch Nails — but is given a forward-thinking heft and brutality to match. Amid something of an industrial revival in the heavy underground, Dome Runner‘s debut stands out. More to the point, it’s fucking awesome.
Varese, Italy, instrumentalist heavy post-rockers Moonlit almost can’t help but bring to mind Red Sparowes with their debut album, So Bless Us Now…, though the marching cymbals early in the 17-minute finale “And We Stood Still Until We Became, Invisible” seem to be in conversation with Om‘s meditative practice as well, and the violin on the earlier “Empty Sky/Cold Lights…” (11:25) is a distinguishing element. Still, it is a melding of heft and float across “For We Have Seen” (12:29) at the beginning of the record, more straight-ahead riffing met with a focus on atmospherics beyond conventional sense of aural weight. Each piece has its own persona, some linear, the penultimate “Shine in the Darkest Night” more experimentalist in structure and its use of samples, but the whole 55-minute listening experience is consuming, minimal in its droning finish only after creating a full wash of mindful, resonant psychedelic reach. With titles drawn from Nietzsche quotes from Thus Spake Zarathustra, there are suitably lonely stretches throughout, but even at its maddest, So Bless Us Now… holds to its stylistic purpose.
Not to be confused with New York outfit Spacelord, the now-decade-plus-runnin German instrumental kosmiche-harvesters The Spacelords present Unknown Species across three — and I’m just being honest here — wonderful extended works, arranged from shortest to longest as “F.K.B.D.F.” (8:10), “Unknown Species” (14:53) and the initially-unplugged “Time Tunnel” (20:26) unfurl a thoughtful outbound progression that finds beauty in dark times and jams with intent that’s progressive without pretense — and, when it wants to be, substantially heavy. That’s true more of the end in “Time Tunnel” than the initial synth-laced drift of “F.K.B.D.F.,” but the solo-topped punch of the title-track/centerpiece isn’t to be understated either. In 2020, the trio released their Spaceflowers (review here) LP, as well as a documentary about their recording/writing processes, and Unknown Species pushes even further into defining just how special a band they are, gorgeously constructed and impeccably mixed as it is. Can’t and wouldn’t ask for more.
A debut outing from Michigan-based newcomers Scrying Stone, the 29-minute Scrublands flows like an album so I’m going to consider it one until I hear otherwise. And as a first album, it sets melody and tonal density not so much against each other, but toward like purposes, and even in the instrumental “Ballad of the Hyena,” it finds cohesive ground for the two sides to exist together without contradiction and without sounding overly derivative of its modern influences. “At Our Heels” makes an engaging hello for first-time listeners, and the faster “The Marauder” later on adds a sense of dynamic at just the right moment before the fuzzy overload of “Desert Thirst” dives into deeper weedian idolatry. There’s some boogie underneath the title-track too, and as a companion to the willing-to-soar closer “Dromedary,” that unrushed rush feels purposeful, making Scrublands come across as formative in its reach — one can definitely hear where they might branch out — but righteously complete in its production and songwriting; a strong opening statement of potential for the band to make en route to what might come next.
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 6th, 2021 by JJ Koczan
Based in Bergen, Norway, classic-style heavy prog rockers Kryptograf released their self-titled debut last June through Apollon Records and now follow with the single “The Well.” Of you’d have asked me, I would’ve said I reviewed the album. I definitely meant to. But I can’t find it and, frankly, I’ve gotten pretty decent at navigating this site, so if I can’t find it it’s probably not there. Bummer.
Bottom line of that review would have been that the band are pretty right on, proggy enough to hold that down but not so indulgent as to lose the thread of their own songs. I know I played them on the Gimme show once or twice, and they were definitely talked about at list-time, but yeah, no review. Sometimes you don’t get to cool shit. Wasn’t for any lack of desire, I assure you. Maybe I’ll close out a week with it in 2026 or something.
Either way, the new song brings ace vibe as well, so I wanted at least to mark the release, which was on Friday. You can stream it at the bottom of this post, and really, if you’ve come this far, why wouldn’t you?
Enjoy:
Kryptograf – The Well – Apollon Records
3 September 2021
Kryptograf are back with a brand new single called The Well.
Inspired by the heavy sound of the late 60s and 70s the band is still riding high on the success of their self-titled debut album from 2020. the four old souls ( young men , though, all but the drummer still in their mid twenties ) in Kryptograf from Bergen , Norway, will hex you with their collective vocals, destructive riffs and inventive songwriting.
Kryptograf is an eclectic but fiercely focused addition to the doomy Bergen underground.
The days grow long, but the Quarterly Review presses onward. I didn’t know when I put this thing together that in addition to having had oral surgery on Monday — rod in for a dental implant, needs a crown after it heals but so far no infection; penciling it as a win — this second week of 10 reviews per day would bring my laptop breaking and a toddler too sick to go to camp for three hours in the morning. If you’re a fan of understatement, I’ll tell you last week was easier to make happen.
Nevertheless, we persist, you and I. I don’t know if, when I get my computer back, it will even have all of these records on the desktop or if the hard-drive-bed-shitting that seems to have taken place will erase that along with such inconsequentials as years of writing and photos of The Pecan dating back to his birth, but hey, that desktop space was getting cleared one way or the other. You know what? I don’t want to think about it.
Quarterly Review #81-90:
Paradise Lost, At the Mill
If Paradise Lost are trying to hold onto some sense of momentum, who can blame them? How many acts who’ve been around for 33 years continue to foster the kind of quality the Yorkshire outfit brought to 2020’s studio outing, Obsidian (review here)? Like, four? Maybe? So if they want to put out two live records in the span of three months — At the Mill follows March’s Gothic: Live at Roadburn 2016, also on Nuclear Blast — one isn’t inclined to hold a grudge, and even less so given the 16-song setlist they offer up in what was the captured audio from a livestream last Fall, spanning the bulk of their career and including requisite highlights from ’90s-era landmarks Gothic and Icon as well as Obsidian features “Fall From Grace,” “Ghosts” and “Darker Thoughts,” which opened the studio LP but makes a rousing finisher for At the Mill.
The second long-player from Sweden’s Alastor is a surprising but welcome sonic turn, pulling back from the grimness of 2018’s Slave to the Grave (review here) in favor of an approach still murky and thick in its bottom end, but sharper in its songwriting focus and bolder melodically right from the outset on “The Killer in My Skull.” They depart from the central roll for an acoustic stretch in “Pipsvängen” after “Nightmare Trip” opens side B and just before the nine-minute title-track lumbers out its descent into the deranged, but even there the four-piece hold the line of obvious attention to songcraft, instrumental and vocal phrasing, and presentation of their sound. Likewise, the spacious nod on “Lost and Never Found” caps with a shorter and likewise undeniable groove, more Sabbath than the Queens of the Stone Age rush of “Death Cult” earlier, but with zero dip in quality. This takes them to a different level in my mind.
Its noise-rock angularity and tonal bite isn’t going to be for everyone, but there’s something about Zahn‘s unwillingness to cooperate, their unwillingness to sit still, that makes their self-titled debut a joy of a run. Based in Berlin and comprised of Felix Gebhard (Einstürzende Neubauten keyboards) as well as drummer Nic Stockmann and bassist Chris Breuer (both of HEADS.), the eight-tracker shimmers on “Tseudo,” punkjazzes on lead cut “Zerrung,” goes full krautrock drone to end side A on “Gyhum” and still has more weirdness to offer on the two-minute sunshine burst of “Schranck,” “Lochsonne Schwarz,” “Aykroyd” and finale “Staub,” all of which tie together in one way or another around a concept of using space-in-mix and aural crush while staying loway to the central pattern of the drums. “Aykroyd” is brazen in showing the teeth of its guitar work, and that’s a pretty solid encapsulation of Zahn‘s attitude across the board. They’re going for it. You can take the ride if you want, but they’re going either way.
Bones and Flowers is a welcome return from Czech Republic-based heavy rockers Greynbownes, who made their debut with 2018’s Grey Rainbow From Bones (review here), and sees the trio foster a progressive heavy flourish prone to Doors-y explosive vocal brooding tempered with Elder-style patience in the guitar lines and rhythmic fluidity while there continues to be both an underlying aggressive crunch and a sense of Truckfighters-ish energy in “Dream Seller,” some blues there and in “Dog’s Eyes” and opener “Wolves” besides, and a willful exploratory push on “Burned by the Sun and Swallowed by the Sea,” which serves as a worthy centerpiece ahead of the rush that comprises much of “Long Way Down.” Further growth is evident in the spaciousness of “Flowers,” and “Star” feels like it’s ending the record with due ceremony in its largesse and character in its presentation.
One can’t argue with Melbourne heavy post-rockers Treebeard‘s impulse to take the material from their prior two EPs, 2018’s Of Hamelin and 2019’s Pastoral, and put it together as a single full-length, but Nostalgia goes further in that they actually re-recorded, and in the case of a track like “The Ratchatcher,” partially reworked the songs. That makes the resultant eight-song offering all the more cohesive and, in relation to the prior versions, emphasizes the growth the band has undertaken in the last few years, keeping elements of weight and atmosphere but delivering their material with a sense of purpose, whether a give stretch of “8×0” is loud or quiet. Nostalgia effectively pulls the listener into its world, duly wistful on “Pollen” or “Dear Magdalena,” with samples adding to the breadth and helping to convey the sense of contemplation and melodic character. Above all things, resonance. Emotional and sonic.
Estonian five-piece Estrada Orchestra recorded Playground on Nov. 21, 2020, and while I’m not 100 percent sure of the circumstances in which such a recording took place, it seems entirely possible given the breadth of their textures and the lonely ambience that unfurls across the 22-minute A-side “Playground Part 1” and the gradual manner in which it makes its way toward psychedelic kraut-drone-jazz there and in the more “active” “Playground Part 2 & 3” — the last part chills out again, and one speaks on very relative terms there — it’s entirely possible no one else was around. Either way, headphone-ready atmosphere persists across the Sulatron-issued LP, a lushness waiting to be closely considered and engaged that works outside of common structures despite having an underlying current of forward motion. Estrada Orchestra, who’ve been in operation for the better part of a decade and for whom Playground is their fifth full-length, are clearly just working in their own dimension of time. It suits them.
Even in the sometimes blinding sunshine of Vestamaran‘s debut album, Bungalow Rex, there is room for shades of folk and classic progressive rock throughout the summery 10-tracker, which makes easygoing vibes sound easy in a way that’s actually really difficult to pull off without sounding forced. And much to Vestamaran‘s credit, they don’t. Their songs are structured, composed, engaging and sometimes catchy, but decidedly unhurried, unflinchingly melodic and for all their piano and subtle rhythmic intricacy, mostly pretense-free. Even the snare sound on “Grustak” feels warm. Cuts like “Risky Pigeon” and “Cutest Offender” are playful, and “Solitude” and closer “Only for You” perhaps a bit moodier, but Vestamaran are never much removed from that central warmth of their delivery, and the abiding spirit of Bungalow Rex is sweet and affecting. This is a record that probably won’t get much hype but will sit with dedicated audience for more than just a passing listen. A record that earns loyalty. I look forward to more.
Three records in, to call what Low Flying Hawks do “heavygaze” feels cheap. Such a tag neither encompasses the post-rock elements in the lush space of “Monster,” the cinematic flourish of “Darklands,” nor the black-metal-meets-desert-crunch-riffing-in-space at the end of “Caustic Wing” or the meditative, post-Om cavern-delia in the first half of closer “Nightrider,” never mind the synthy, screamy turn of Fuyu‘s title-track at the halfway point. Three records in, the band refuse to let either themselves or their listenership get too comfortable, either in heavy groove or march or atmosphere, and three records in, they’re willfully toying with style and bending the aspects of genre to their will. There are stretches of Fuyu that, in keeping with the rest of what the band do, border on overthought, but the further they go into their own progressive nuance, the more they seem to discover they want to do. Fuyu reportedly wraps a trilogy, but if what they do next comes out sounding wildly different, you’d have to give them points for consistency.
La Maquinaria del Sueño, Rituales de los Alucinados
Cult poetry on “Enterrado en la Oscuridad,” garage rock boogie “Ayahuasca” and classic, almost-surf shuffle are the first impressions Mexico City’s La Maquinaria del Sueño make on their debut full-length, Rituales de los Alucinados, and the three-piece only benefit from the push-pull in different directions as the seven-song LP plays out, jamming into the semi-ethereal on “Maldad Eléctrica” only to tip hat to ’60s weirdo jangle on “Mujer Cabeza de Cuervo.” Guitars scorch throughout atop swinging grooves in power trio fashion, and despite the differences in tone between them, “Enterré mis Dientes en el Desierto” and “Ángel de Fuego” both manage to make their way into a right on haze of heavy fuzz ahead of the motoring finisher “La Ninfa del Agua,” which underscores the live feel of the entire procession with its big crashout ending and overarching vitality. Listening to the chemistry between these players, it’s not a surprise they’ve been a band for the better part of a decade, and man, they make their riffs dance. Not revolutionary, but cool enough not to care.
A three-tracker EP issued through drummer Max Ear‘s (also of OJM) own Go Down Records, Karnak features an instrumental take on a previously-vocalized cut — “Anulios,” from 2018’s Anodnatius (review here) — an eight-minute live jam with Mario Lalli of Fatso Jetson/Yawning Man sitting in on guitar, and a live version of the Conny Ochs-fronted “The Pilot,” which opened 2019’s Cathodnatius, the cover of which continues to haunt one’s dreams, and which finds the German singer-songwriter channeling his inner David Byrne in fascinating ways. An odds-and-ends release, maybe, but each of these songs is worth the minimal price of admission on its own, never mind topped as they are together with the much-less-horrifying art. If this is a reminder to listen to Anada Mida, it’s a happy one.
Posted in Whathaveyou on June 7th, 2021 by JJ Koczan
In my immediate defense, I’d like to say that no, I’m not just posting about the impending June 18 release of Vestamaran‘s debut album, Bungalow Rex, because the lead single is called “Risky Pigeon.” Surely that title would be enough motivation on its own, masterful as it is, but if we’re being honest with each other — and I hope we are — it’s the swaying classic melody underscoring the band’s songs throughout the 10-track offering that’s doing the trick. They capture a summery vibe without being overly ’70s-retro-prog, rather like some ’90s indie that forgot to be miserable or at least fake it. An abiding organic sensibility is highlighted by piano and flourish of psychedelic guitar shimmer, and the tracks are engaging on their face with enough ramble and depth to hold fickle attention spans.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t note that Apollon Records was the same label that unveiled Slomosa‘s well-received debut last year. The Bergen-native label would seem to have found a niche in highlighting up and coming acts from Norway. Noble purpose, especially with results like these.
You can stream “Risky Pigeon” under the PR wire info below. Preorders and all that are on Bandcamp as well:
Vestamaran – Bungalow Rex – Apollon Records
Release: 18 June 2021
This is low-octane rock music from the Norwegian happy campers Vestamaran, the answer of the questions you didn’t raise? Or is it just another musical loveless pandemic hug? While the habitants of the world got together and pointed out the word bongalow to be everybody’s favorite word, Vestamaran quickly adapted this award winning letters to their title. You might say that this word is the only trending element of this release, but suddenly you also notice the lovely purple colored vinyl. The word rex is also included as a contrast. Life is not just bungalow all day long, it also includes a lot of rex in the evenings.
From the fjordy west coast of Norway appears the best friends, and melody makers in Vestamaran. Their only intention is to make high quality rock without gibberish. It’s not masculine. Rather genderless, but their music still has a fair amount of sex. Like the sexyness which gets you up in the morning. Not the one that gets you horny. It’s saxophone rock without the saxophone. A strip club without the strippers. Their debut album, Bungalow Rex, has now been launched through the channels of Apollon records. Its a fair chance that this album can function as a small replacement for the woman you never kissed, for the child you never gave birth to, or the trauma you never dealt with. It can also function as just another futile time waster.
Tracklisting: 1. Error Come Save Me 2. Risky Pigeon 3. Swag 4. Cutest Offender 5. My Finest Eye 6. Solitude 7. Grustak 8. Salt Chair 9. Follow Me 10. Only For You
Line-up: Endre Aasebø, Kjartan Ericsson, Kjell Arne Kjærgård, Jon Bolstad & Kristian Linz
[Click play above to stream Slomosa’s self-titled debut in full. It’s out Friday, Aug. 28 on Apollon Records.]
Slomosa may be newcomers, but their sound draws on decades of established heavy rock traditions that are nothing if not stalwart. Based in Bergen, Norway, and releasing their self-titled debut full-length through Apollon Records, the four-piece formed in 2017, recorded in 2018 and traded out half their lineup in 2019, bringing in guitarist Tor Erik Bye and bassist Marie Moe alongside drummer Severin Sandvik and vocalist/guitarist Benjamin Berdous. Starting last Fall, Slomosa began issuing singles from the eight-song/37-minute recorded-live-with-overdubs offering, beginning with the rolling riff that starts the album in “Horses” before following-up with “There is Nothing New Under the Sun” (posted here) and, most recently, “In My Mind’s Desert” (posted here) giving a different look at the breadth of their more than capably conveyed melody. Helmed and mixed by Eirik Sandvik (Amped Out, Howlin’ Sun) and mastered by Enslaved‘s own Iver Sandøy, the album benefits from the experienced hands of its production (the band is listed as a co-producer), bringing due tonal presence to a style that is well aware of genre tenets and speaking alike to the formative days of Californian desert rock in the 1990s and the Scandinavian interpretations that followed soon behind.
Kyuss and Queens of the Stone Age are two anchor influences, the former coming into play throughout, in songs like “Kevin” and “Estonia” and even “Scavengers,” which hints at more progressive nuance in the guitar twists of its second half, but remains grounded ultimately in its structure and staves off digging too far into such indulgences. The latter manifests perhaps even more palpably in the vocal patterning and riffing style of Berdous and then-guitarist Anders Rørlien — Kristian Tvedt played bass — and comes to the fore in “In My Mind’s Desert” and “Just to Be,” both of which specifically key in on the Josh Homme-fronted outfit’s 1998 self-titled debut.
Along with this, the driving thrust of “There is Nothing New Under the Sun” seems to harness the intensity that Dozer once brought to the desert sound, and the march of “Horses” at the launch of the record feels derived more from the earliest work of The Sword — who, it should be noted, are from neither California nor Sweden — so there’s more to dig into throughout Slomosa‘s Slomosa than it might at first appear. And while still definitively a desert rock aesthetic — they call it “tundra rock” in honor of Norway’s lack of deserts; you work with what you’ve got — one of the most encouraging aspects of the collection, especially taken in its manageable entirety, is how much Slomosa are able to bring these influences along to suit the purposes of their own songwriting. Ultimately, it is that songwriting that rules the day.
It might take a given listener a turn or two through Slomosa to get past the novelty of picking out riffs and saying, “Oh, that’s this Kyuss track,” be it “Estonia” drawing from “Supa Scoopa and Mighty Scoop” or whatever else, but the rewards are ample for that minimal investment of effort, and they come in form of hooks like those of “Horses” or “There is Nothing New Under the Sun” or “Just to Be,” as well as the more willfully sprawling showcase that is closer “On and Beyond.” The last of those is a singular worthy showcase of the band’s potential, but the truth of the matter is that same potential is writ large across the entirety of the release.
Their songs work well together and are placed smoothly for an overarching full-length flow, but it is no coincidence that they spaced out three singles ahead of the full album’s arrival, since that is very much the modus in which the record operates: as a presentation of the individual tracks that comprise it. Each song is crisp and smoothly executed — not so smooth as to detract from the weight or edge, but enough to highlight the melody in Berdous‘ vocals for sure. As “In My Mind’s Desert” taps those nascent Queens of the Stone Age vibes (or is it a less melancholy “I Never Came?”), even the word-playfulness of the lyrics seems to be on board in the line, “No man’s an island in no man’s land.” But even here, there’s more happening than simply deriving new material from something built before.
Certainly there’s plenty of that, and you won’t hear me say otherwise — I don’t imagine even Slomosa themselves would come out and say they’ve completely invented a new sound; beware of anyone who does — but the energy and the vitality behind what they’re doing stylistically is an asset that comes into play all along the album’s varied path. Recording at least the basic tracks live would seem to have been a correct choice in that regard, since that natural foundation resonates even through whatever overdubbing and the added-later vocals. It becomes an essential aspect of each track, as heard in the fuzz-forward “Scavengers,” which hits into a bounce and push that would seem to be positioning itself as an heir to Truckfighters‘ unmitigated sense of fun, or in “There is Nothing New Under the Sun,” which in addition to Dozer directly and perhaps with tongue-in-cheek recalls “My God is the Sun” from QOTSA‘s …Like Clockwork, as well as anywhere else one might have ears to hear it. Slomosa sound like a young band. A young band who know what they want stylistically and are able to craft their material in such a way as to manifest that.
Such things don’t come along every day, and if you’re looking for theses in Slomosa, they’re readily apparent in “There is Nothing New Under the Sun” and “In My Mind’s Desert” — two cuts that seem to find the band directly acknowledging where they’re coming from in terms of overall perspective. An act of that kind of boldness isn’t to be taken lightly, especially from a new group releasing their first album. What remains to be seen is how Slomosa‘s lineup change will affect their sound, and what lessons they’ll take with them from having successfully executed this offering at the high level they have. Will they push outward as “On and Beyond” seems to want to do, or dive deeper into the thrust of “Kevin,” or head somewhere else entirely? Part of what makes Slomosa so exciting as an album is not knowing the answer, but only part, because the work they’ve done in these songs is more than enough to stand on its own, regardless of what might come after.
Posted in Whathaveyou on July 21st, 2020 by JJ Koczan
So here’s a cute one. I’ve written about Slomosa a couple times. Last Fall, when the Norwegian band posted the “There is Nothing New Under the Sun” from their upcoming self-titled debut album, I thought the track was cool and put it up with the press release that came through. And again, much the same leading up to “In My Mind’s Desert,” the second cut from the record to be unveiled. Now, with the third — that’s opener “Horses,” streaming at the bottom of the post here — I’m seeing a quote from The Obelisk: “Norway’s new shooting stars of huge rock.”
Now, to be fair, I say a lot of shit. Maybe I said that, right? My first thought wasn’t, “No way I said that,” it was, “Did I say that? That doesn’t sound like me.”
Turns out it wasn’t me. It was the press release I posted. So I’m being quoted quoting the press release, which, of course, ran in blue as those things do around here to signify their being quoted directly as they came in (okay, sometimes I fix spellings and take out quotes, but otherwise it’s exact). So yeah, I never quite called Slomosa Norway’s new shooting stars of huge rock. They sound like a cool band from what I’ve heard so far. You can quote me on that if you want. As for the rest, I’d probably like to hear the album before I make any such grand proclamations.
Okay then. To the PR wire:
Norwegian Stoner/ Desert Rockers SLOMOSA Debut Album Announced for August 2020 Release on Apollon Records.
Bringing desert rock from what is probably the least desert country in the world, Norwegian rockers SLOMOSA are due to release their self-titled debut album on August 28th, which has been highly anticipated ever since debut single Horses, which premiered in October 2019.
Acclaimed Norwegian music journalist Totto Mjelde (NRK P13) claimed it to be “some of the best new music to surface in the last couple of years”, saying the song “took his breath away”. At the end of the year the same radio station picked Horses as one of their five best songs of 2019. Regional newspaper Bergens Tidende proclaimed the band had released “one of the year’s best rock songs” with Horses, raising the expectations for their next release. The following single, There Is Nothing New Under the Sun, also debuted on P13, and Spotify quickly added the song to their official “Stoner Rock” and “Norwegian Rock” playlists.
The songs have amassed 170 000 streams and counting – and with their music’s international reach the band has managed to gain a following in countries such as Sweden, Germany and USA, making the band “Norway’s new shooting stars of huge rock”, music blog The Obelisk aptly put it.
The latest single from the upcoming album, is the sun-dazed In My Mind’s Desert, showcasing the band’s ability to make rock songs that appeal not only to the traditional rock crowd.
1. Horses 2. Kevin 3. There Is Nothing New Under The Sun 4. In My Mind`s Desert 5. Scavengers 6. Just to Be 7. Estonia 8. On and Beyond
Posted in Whathaveyou on June 12th, 2020 by JJ Koczan
This one upcoming is the third single Slomosa are posting ahead of the release of their debut album. I don’t know when that album is coming out, but so far, I dig three songs on it. The Norwegian four-piece are three-for-three in my book between “In My Mind’s Desert,” “There is Nothing New Under the Sun” and “Horses.” I don’t know how long the whole record is, but if you figure the eight-track/38-minute standard average, they’re off to a killer start. There’s a very distinct earliest-Queens of the Stone Age feel to the new track, and that suits the melody of the vocals well — a bit of crunch in the riff is far more playful than aggressive — and they’re not shy with the hook either. It’s not necessarily groundbreaking stuff, but neither is it trying to be, and when I try to think of desert-style rock bands — they call it “tundra rock,” because Norway — coming out of Bergen, I’m drawing a blank.
You’ll note Iver Sandøy mastered. If you don’t know the name, he’s the new drummer in Enslaved and a noted engineer/producer as well.
Also, I’m guessing “In My Mind’s Desert” is the fourth track on the upcoming full-length. I know this because the promo wav file I downloaded had a “04” in front of the title. Context clues!
From the PR wire:
Slomosa – In My Mind’s Desert
“An ode to the things I’ve forgot. And not at least, the skills that I’ve lost.”
“In My Mind’s Desert” is Slomosa’s third and last single from their upcoming debut album, out the 28th of August on Apollon Records. With their self-branded genre of “Tundra Rock”, Slomosa has made a name for themselves with their heavy and catchy sound. From Bergen, off the west coast of Norway, the band has garnered a lot of praise and attention for their first two singles, both abroad and back home. Their new single showcases Slomosa’s versatility and opens the listener to a different side of their songwriting: Less epic, more pop – this is definitely the upcoming album’s softest song.
Being the first song they ever wrote, it has become a live favourite among fans with it’s mellow intro, big choruses and addictive main riff. Singer Benjamin Berdous’ personal lyrics evolve around having a stoner lifestyle as life takes a bad turn, and offer an ironic take on the naive thoughts justifying not taking action to better things. Recorded in 2019 at “Lokalet Studio” in Bergen, by co-producer Eirik Sandvik, the single complements the band’s first two releases – making it clear that there is no stopping Slomosa on their way to the big stage.
Music: Slomosa Lyrics: Benjamin Berdous
Guitar, Lead vocals: Benjamin Berdous Guitar: Anders Rørlien Bass: Kristian Tvedt Drums, percussion: Severin Sandvik
