Posted in Whathaveyou on May 24th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Only fitting that Argentina-based three-piece IAH should return to European shores in support of their most expansive album to-date. The work in question is the late-2021 highlight Omines (review here), which found their instrumentalist heavy psychedelic rock in full blossom even as they reached beyond their own confines to incorporate strings as well as vocals for the first time, the latter supplied by Jan Rutka and Kamil Ziółkowski of Poland’s Spaceslug, who, to say the least, fit well on the record’s closing title-track.
It’s not the longest tour I’ll post about this week, but you’ll note the fact that the first three of the total seven shows take place in Poland. No word on whether the band will renew that Spaceslug collaboration on stage or otherwise, but they’ll be in the neighborhood — relatively speaking, anyhow — so it’s always possible. And as it says in the headline above, the tour concludes with their slot at Freak Valley Festival in Germany, where you bet your ass I’m looking forward to seeing them, among the slew of others in that rather look-forward-to-able lineup.
Even factoring in the global pandemic, IAH have built significant momentum behind them over the last five or so years since their self-titled debut (review here). The last time they went to Europe was Summer 2019 — Paris was the same venue — so figure that had conditions permitted, they’d have gone back before now, but like that run of shows, this one has a festival as its anchor, which if you need to understand why I advocate for a different fest every weekend somewhere in Europe, should tell you everything you need to know.
Safe travels to the band. They’re among my most anticipated for my upcoming first visit to Freak Valley:
June 6 PL Warsaw Hybrydy June 7 PL Krakow Klub Zascianek June 8 PL Wroclaw Klub Akademia June 10 CZ Prague Cross Clube Prague June 13 FR Paris Supersonic June 14 FR Strasbourg June 18 DE Netphen Freak Valley Festival
IAH is: Juan Pablo Lucco Borlera: Bass Mauricio Condon: Guitar José Landín: Drums
[Click play above to stream Ararat’s Volumen 4 in full. It’s out this week through South American Sludge with limited vinyl to follow on Argonauta Records.]
When Buenos Aires’ Ararat rode into the light on their third album, Cabalgata Hacia la Luz (review here), in 2014, the band seemed to drift away. Fronted by former Los Natas guitarist/vocalist Sergio Chotsourian — who played bass and piano in addition to guitar — the band’s advent with 2009’s Musica de la Resistencia (review here) had been a revelation of creative expanse, finding new character in Chotsourian‘s songwriting and a denser tonality in the new trio. 2012’s II (review here) grew broader still, incorporating longer tracks for all the more a sense of immersion in the increasingly atmospheric craft. Cabalgata Hacia la Luz pulled back from that somewhat, as by 2014, Chotsourian — aka Sergio Ch. — had begun exploring the solo work that would consume much of the rest of the decade for him creatively even as another rock trio, Soldati, began to take shape and move toward their own debut. Though some of Ararat‘s songs appeared in redone form as solo pieces and vice versa, the trio that had settled on the lineup of Chotsourian, guitarist/keyboardist Tito Fargo and drummer Alfredo Felitte (who also joined Soldati for a time) seemed to be done. Obviously this impression was mistaken. Sort of.
Ararat circa 2022 is reignited as a duo, with Chotsourian and drummer Jorge Araujo as its lone occupants, and Volumen 4 marks the group’s first outing in eight years, collecting six songs across 36 sometimes plodding, sometimes reaching minutes, its ideas seeming to find a summary in the penultimate “Thor Hammer,” which layers in keyboards along with the bass and drums, and is willing to both roll out the record’s most elephantine instrumental progression and long, patient stretches of minimalist rumble. It is a different sound than anything Ararat have put forth to-date, and fair enough since it’s a different construction than the band has ever had before. Still, as “Fiebre” lurches to life at Volumen 4‘s outset backed by synth or theremin swirl before shifting into its bass/drum march of a verse, there are of course some recognizable elements, namely Sergio Ch.‘s gritty vocals, sometimes layered, and the style of the progressions he and Araujo are bringing to life. Compared to Los Natas — which was at the time the only other comparison point for Chotsourian‘s output — Ararat was more doom in tempo and attitude, but also more exploratory, with piano pieces and other experiments fleshed out as full-band realizations.
To some degree, Volumen 4 continues this ethic, but it doesn’t feel like anything so much as a new beginning. Whether it is or not isn’t something that can be known at this point, but what Ararat do as “Fiebre” chugs through its second half and the shorter, speedier “Microcosmos” sets its tinny snare drum toward more stamping punctuations is to reset the mission and general purpose of the band in the first place. Perhaps it’s fair that after eight years and a remaking of the band that Volumen 4should come across as a debut, bolstered in that regard by the willful rawness of its production and the digging-in-and-seeing-where-it-goes vibe of “Microcosmos” or the accordingly lumbering “Serpiente,” which follows.
Those who might wonder why Chotsourian didn’t simply start another project for these songs — that is, make it another band instead of calling it Ararat — might find an answer in “Serpiente,” which finds Araujo‘s loose swing connected in thrillingly tenuous fashion to the slow bass riff. Even without the additional keyboard or guitar layers of II or Cabalgata Hacia la Luz, it is like the bones and muscle of what Ararat was before, and in the second half, as the drums drop out behind the vocal echoes and standalone bassline, it’s a feel that will only be familiar to those who heard the band in their prior incarnation.
And to anyone who didn’t? One assumes it’s that much easier to make the leap into the shifts in approach without the context of the past records. “Birdy” picks up somewhat faster than “Serpiente,” playing off the alternating tempos of “Fiebre” and “Microcosmos” earlier, and features a standout riff, farther back drumming and a fuller sound with Chotsourian‘s vocals out front. Drones and more maybe-theremin return at the finish — could be a Space Echo or some such — but the shift into “Thor Hammer” is smooth enough to feel purposeful. The aforementioned pre-closer begins quiet but announces its intention toward sonic fullness with a snare hit to begin its full-on roll at about a minute in. It is as immersive as Ararat get on this fourth long-player, and that’s thanks in no small part to the keyboard line that drones out alongside the bass and drums, adding melody to the early going, dropping out as Araujo and Chotsourian dutifully march toward through the midsection, and returning for much of the second cycle until the drums also depart, leaving the bass to hold sway until it too seems to disintegrate ahead of the more immediate launch of “Mandy” at the finish.
One assumes there’s some relation to the high-body-count Nicolas Cage 2018 feature film, since Chotsourian makes a kind of sinister hook out of the repeated line “You’re about to die,” but it’s even more notable that the lyrics to the closer are in English. That may or may not be a first for Ararat — I think it is — but Sergio Ch. has always been comfortable departing Spanish periodically in his various projects, so it could hardly be called out of line. After “Thor Hammer,” the pattern of Volumen 4would suggest it’s time for something faster, so naturally “Mandy” instead pushes deeper into the low-end abyssal zone, its lyrical threat met by a lurch that enhances the impression and feels tied to “Serpiente” earlier, capping the album without more fanfare than that, and keeping the raw sensibility that defines so much of what’s happening throughout Volumen 4 intact even while swapping one language for another in another, admittedly less subtle than some, turn.
For being relatively unexpected, this fourth Ararat LP is not at all unwelcome, and whether it’s a one-off or a new start for the band, what matters is that it continues to push against expectation for what they do. These many years later, that’s only worth appreciating more as a consistent factor in the band’s persona.
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 10th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Good band, good record, following on from prior reissues. It’s pretty easy to get on board with what Fulanno and Helter Skelter Productions have going, the cult-minded imprint of Regain Records having collaborated previously on a reissue for 2016’s Hash Negro en las Misas Funebres last year. Nadie Está a Salvo del Mal (review here). That leaves just 2018’s Velas Negras unaccounted for, but somehow I doubt that will remain the case for very long, and it’s worth noting that while broader distribution for these two-so-far records is certainly welcome, the Argentina-based outfit are also due a new album sometime soon.
But yeah, cool record. If you don’t own it — and I know you do, because you’re way cool and whatnot — the vinyl’s due back in July.
As per the PR wire:
FULANNO to have third album released worldwide via HELTER SKELTER – new video revealed
Today, Helter Skelter Productions (distributed & marketed by Regain Records) announces February 18th as the international release date for Fulanno’s cult third album, Nadie está a salvo del mal, on CD format. The vinyl LP and cassette tape versions will be released on July 5th.
Hailing from Argentina, Fulanno formed in 2010 and soon became a cult fixture on the stoner doom scene with their debut album, Hash Negro en las Misas Funebres, following its super-limited CD-R release in 2016. While Helter Skelter would later release a worldwide edition, even in its original super-limited guise, Fulanno’s debut stoked all those seeking strictly within-the-boundaries STONER DOOM.
Of course, what did Fulanno do to follow it up? Release another album just as within the boundaries: 2018’s Velas Negras, which saw the band garner even more of a cult name. And then, like clockwork, two years later came another album within those same boundaries but arguably more sulfurous: Nadie está a salvo del mal. The record would go through a number of pressings from a number of labels upon its original release in 2020, but now Helter Skelter arrives again to spread these sonic drugs where they need to go. No more but definitely no less, Nadie está a salvo del mal weaves a similarly intoxicating spell as its two not-inconsiderable predecessor, but it’s still stoner doom not for the faint of heart – nor for genre tourists. This is the Real Stuff, doled at 666% strength, and it’s fucking stultifying.
Following the album’s original release, Fulanno would firmly cement their name in the scene, no longer a “great secret” known only to the faithful. Get stuck in that cement again – or, likely, for the first time – with this worldwide edition of Nadie está a salvo del mal!
In the meantime, see the brand-new video “Los Colmillos De Satan” HERE at Regain Records’ official YouTube channel. Stream Nadie está a salvo del mal in its entirety HERE at Regain Records’ Bandcamp, where all formats of the album can also be preordered. Cover and tracklisting are as follows:
Tracklisting for Fulanno’s Nadie está a salvo del mal 1. Fuego en la cruz 2. Los elegidos 3. Hombre Muerto 4. Los colmillos de Satan 5. Señores de la Necropolis 6. El decierto de los caidos 7. El libro de los Muertos
Posted in Reviews on January 19th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Getting to the halfway point of a Quarterly Review is always something special. I’m not trying to say it’s a hardship reviewing 50 records in a week — if anything it’s a relief, despite the strain it seems to put on my interpersonal relationships; The Patient Mrs. hates it and I can’t really fault her for that since it does consume a fair amount of my brain while it’s ongoing — but some days it comes down to ‘do I shower or do I write’ and usually writing wins out. I’ll shower later. Probably. Hopefully.
But today we pass halfway through and there’s a lot of killer still to come, so plenty to look forward to either way. The day starts with an old favorite I’ve included here basically as a favor to myself. Let’s go.
Quarterly Review #21-30:
Sergio Ch., La Danza de los Tóxicos
Comparatively speaking, La Danza de los Tóxicos is a pretty straightforward solo offering from Soldati/Ararat/ex-Los Natas frontman Sergio Chotsourian, whose ealrier-2021 full-length, Koi (review here), featured both of his children, one rapping and one joining him on vocals for a Nine Inch Nails cover. Perhaps it’s in reaction to that record that this one feels more traditionalist, with Chotsourian (aka Sergio Ch.) still finding 11 minutes to drone out instrumentalist style on closer “Thor Hammer” and to sample Scarface at the start of “Late Train,” but in his guy-and-guitar ethic, a lot of this material sounds like the roots of things to come — Chotsourian has shared songs between projects for years — while keeping a balance between exploratory vibe and traditional structures on pieces like “Skinny Ass,” “La Esquina” and “88.”
Coated in burl and aggressive presentation as well as the occasional metaphors about stellar phenomena and hints/flourish of Latin rhythm and percussion, Titanosaur‘s fourth long-player, Absence of Universe, sees multi-instrumentalist, producer and vocalist Geoff Saavedra engaging with aggressive tonality and riff construction as well as the various instabilities of the moment in which the album was put together. “Conspiracy” feels somewhat self-explanatory from a lyrical standpoint, and both opener “The Echo Chamber” and “Shut Off the Voices” feel born of the era in their theme, while “So Happy” seems like a more personal perspective on mental health. Whatever a given song’s subject throughout the nine-track/42-minute offering, Saavedra delivers with a heavy rock born out of ’90s metal such that the breakdown in “So Happy” feels natural when it hits, and the rush of finale “Needed Order” seems like an earned expulsion of the tension so much of the record prior has been building, incluing the chugging force of “I Will Live Forever” immediately prior.
Future Fossils would seem to take its name from the idea of bringing these tracks together in some effort toward conservation, to keep them from getting lost to time or obscurity amid the various other works and incarnations of Insect Ark. The first three songs are synth-only solo pieces by Dana Schechter, recorded in 2018, and the final piece, “Gravitrons,” is a 23-minute live improvisation by Schechter and then-drummer Ashley Spungin recorded in New York in 2016. The sense that these things might someday be “discovered” as one might unearth a fossil is fair enough — the minimalism of “Gypsum Blade” has space enough to hold whatever evocations one might place on it, and while “Anopsian Volta” feels grounded with a line of piano, opener “Oral Thrush” seems more decidedly cinematic. All this of course is grist for the mill of “Gravitrons,’ which is consuming unto itself in its ambience and rife with experimentalist purpose. Going in order to have gone. As ethics go, that one feels particularly worth preserving.
Sludge and grind come together on Denver trio Never Kenezzard‘s The Long and Grinding Road, and through what seems to be some modern metallurgical miracle, the album sounds neither like Carcass‘ Swansong nor Dopethrone. After the pummeling beginning of “Gravity” and “Genie,” the interlude “Praer” and the subequent channel-panning-screamer “Ra” expand an anti-genre take as bent on individuality of sound as they apparently are on clever wordplay. “Demon Wheel” has a genuine heavy rock thrust, and “Slowburn” and the looped clock noise of “11:59:59” provide buffers between the extended cuts “Seven Statues” (11:31) and “The Long and Grinding Road” (14:55) itself, which closes, but by then the three-piece have established a will and a way to go wherever they want and you can follow if you’re up for it. So are you? Probably. There’s some underlying current of Faith No More-style fuckery in the sound, something playful about the way Never Kenezzard push themselves into abrasion. You can tell they’re having fun, and that affects the listening experience throughout the purposefully unmanageable 57 minutes of the album.
There’s a thread of noise rock that runs throughout Godlike Supervision, the debut full-length from Munich-based four-piece The Kupa Pities, and it brings grit to both the early-Clutch riffing of lead cut “Anthology” and the later, fuzz-overdose “Queen Machine.” It’s not just about aggression, though there’s some of that, but of the band putting their own spin on the established tenets of Kyuss-style desert and Fu Manchu-style heavy rocks. “Black Hole” digs into the punkish roots of the former, while the starts-and-stops of “Dance Baby Dance” and the sheer push of the title-track hint toward the latter, even if they’re a little sharper around the edges than the penultimate “Surfing,” which feels like it was titled after what the band do with their own groove — they seem to ride it in expert fashion. So be it. “Black Hole” works in a bit of atmosphere and “Burning Man” caps with a fair-enough blowout at the finish, ending the album on a note not unfamiliar but indicative of the twists The Kupa Pities are working to bring to their influences.
A newcomer trio, London’s Warpstormer brings together guitarist Scott Black (Green Lung), drummer Matthew Folley and bassist/vocalist Richard J. Morgan (ex-Oak), and their aptly-titled first EP, 1, presents four bangers of unrepentantly brash heavy rock and roll, channeling perhaps some of earlier Orange Goblin‘s boozy-wrecking-crew vibes, but on “Ride the Bomb” digging into post-hardcore and metal as well, the abidingly aggro sense undercut by a quiet stretch holding its tension in the drums as well as the drunken quiet start of “Devourer,” which gets plenty bruising by its finish but is slower in procession certainly than were “Here Comes Hell” and “Storm Caller” at the outset. They’re in and out and done in 19 minutes, but as what otherwise might be a demo, 1 gives a look at where Warpstormer are coming from and would seem to herald future incursions to come. I’ll take it. The songs come across as feeling out where the band wants to be in terms of sound, but where they’re headed, they’re headed with due charge.
Génesis Negro perhaps loses something in the audio-only experience. To wit, while Ricardo Jiménez Gómez is responsible for all the music on the album, it’s the illustrations of Antonio Ramírez Collado, bringing together in Blake-esque style mysticism, anatomy, and ideas born of research into early Christian gnostics, that serve as the root from which that music is sprung. Instrumental in its entirety and including a reprint of the article that ties the visuals and audio together and was apparently the inspiration for exploring the subject to start with, its 43-minute run can obviously offer the listener a deeper dive than just the average collection of verse/chorus songs, and no doubt that’s the intention. Some pieces are minimal enough to barely be there at all, enough to emphasize every strum of a string, and others offer a distorted tonal weight that seems ready to interpret any number of psychedelic spiritual chaos processes. If you want to get weird, Ricardo Jiménez y Antonio Ramírez are way ahead of you. They might also be ahead of themselves, honestly, despite whatever temporal paradox that implies.
Tracks like “Leaves,” “Blood Boils Hot,” and “Thunder” still rock out a pretty heavy classic blues rock vibe, but Swedish outfit Children of the Sün — as the title Roots would imply in following-up their 2019 debut, Flowers (review here) — seem to dig deeper into atmospheric expression, emotive melodies and patience of craft in the 13-track/44-minute offering. From the the mellow noodling of “Reflection” at the start, a piano-led foreshadow for “Eden” later on, to the acoustic-till-it-ain’t “Man in the Moon” later on, the spirit of Roots feels somewhere between days gone by and days to come and therefore must be the present, strutting accordingly on “The Soul” and making a pure vocal showcase for Josefina Berglund Ekholm, on which she shines as one has come to expect. There are moments where the vocals feel disconnected from the instrumental portions of the songs, but where they go, they go organically.
Is that flute on “Planexit,” the opener and longest track (immediate points), on Planexit, the latest outing from London-based grunge-informed heavy rockers Desert Clouds? It could well be, and after the somewhat bleaker progression of the riffs prior, that escape into melody comes across as well-placed. The band are likewise unafraid to pull off atmospheric Nick Cave-style storytelling in “Wheelchair” and more broodingly progressive fare in “Deceivers,” leaving the relatively brief “Revolutionary Lies” to rest somewhere between Southern heavy, early ’90s melodicism and a modern production. Throughout the 45-minute LP, the band swap out various structural ideologies, and while I can’t help be immersed in the groove and bassline of “Deceivers,” the linear build and receding of the penultimate “Pearl Marmalade” feels no less essential to the impact of the record overall. Behold a band who have found their niche and set themselves to the task of refining its parameters. As ever, it works because songwriting and performance are both right on.
Comprised of Clement Pineau (drums, kamele n’goni, vocals, percussion), Idriss Besselievre (vocals, guitar, sanxian), Paul Adamczuk (bass/guitar, keyboard) and Margot GuilbertGondhawa bring forth a heavy psychedelic cultural sphere throughout the still-digestible six tracks and 37 minutes of Käampâla, with the French trio’s penchant for including instrumentation from Africa or Asia alongside the more traditional guitar, bass, drums, keys and vocals resulting in a lush but natural feeling psychedelia that seems to be all the more open for their readiness to jam outside whatever box expectation might put them in. The title-track feels like Mideastern prog, while the subsequent “Assid Bubu” shreds out an echoing lead over a slow-roller of a stoner-jam nod. Their willingness to dance is a strength, ultimately, and their inclusion of these arrangement elements, including percussion, comes across as more than dabbling in world music. They’re not the first to look beyond their effects pedals in manifesting psych rock, but there’s not a lot out there that sounds like this.
Posted in Whathaveyou on December 3rd, 2021 by JJ Koczan
Less than a year after releasing the album themselves digitally, Argentina’s No Stone have been picked up by StoneFly Records for a vinyl pressing of their debut, Road Into the Darkness (review here). Cultish and on the rawer end of garage doom, the release nonetheless carried across a melodic focus in its post-Uncle Acid vocal arrangements, and the blend of bare fuzz and ethereal sneer will no doubt come across well suited to the 12″ platter on which it’ll be presented. South American heavy, Argentine heavy, remain undervalued by the gringo underground in general, but anytime you get a Euro label signing a band — in this case, as the imprint’s second release; showing nothing if not priority — it’s worth noting. All the more so here because the record kicks ass and the band aren’t nazis so far as I know.
The release is Jan. 7, like the headline says. StoneFly sent the following down the PR wire:
OCCULT STONER ROCK/ PSYCHEDELIC DOOM TRIO NO STONE SIGNS TO STONEFLY RECORDS FOR A WORLDWIDE VINYL RELEASE OF THEIR ROAD INTO THE DARKNESS ALBUM ON JANUARY 7 2022
StoneFly Records is thrilled to announce the signing of Rosario, Argentina based trio NO STONE and look forward to release their debut album Road Into The Darkness on 180g vinyl. This album will be the second album released by StoneFly Records. These quarantine made recordings were salvaged from a secret bunker hidden in the heart of Argentina and have been transferred to wax for the collector’s pleasure. Embracing a lo-fi aesthetic, this album will restore your faith in doom or send you to your grave.
In April 2020, NO STONE released a single: “Bewitched” which I very loved. It was only later in February 2021 that I finally heard about NO STONE again. Few friends sent me the link to their album and I was then jumping the feet ahead in this beautiful darkness. I loved the rawness of their sound; maybe something reminiscent of other Argentinian bands like Mephistofeles for example. The overall vibe was crying to me: Uncle Acid. I was seduced by these strong songs filled with these occult stoner proto-metallic riffs; I knew I wanted these guys on my label.
Road Into The Darkness has been recorded during the quarantine with minimalistic means. You can’t expect a studio album here, you gotta embrace the lo-fi aspect of the album in order to appreciate it fully. The vinyl version will offer a different version than the digital one. We worked with Martin Antonsson Productions who re-mixed the whole songs and mastered them for vinyl playback. The goal was to bring more definitions to the songs while keeping their vital essence alive.
Road Into The Darkness channels a dark magic that will please the old horror movie fans. You could easily swap the soundtrack of one of these black and white Hammer’s movies for it and just see fire!
NO STONE’s Road Into The Darkness was digitally released February 13, 2021. The band is a mixture of melodic harmonized vocals with heavy-style riffs with power drums & bass lines, inviting you to enter into their dark psychedelic world inspired by the atmosphere of old horror cult movies.
Tracklisting: 1. Intro 2. Bewitched 3. The Frayed endings 4. Devil Behind 5. Goodbye’s Blues / Put Me In A Hole 6. Shadow No More 7. Road Into The Darkness
NO STONE is: Pablo Lanziani: Vocals, guitars and synths Diego Moran: Bass Maximiliano Fradellin: Drums, Percussion
Posted in Reviews on November 18th, 2021 by JJ Koczan
At just 14 months removed from their second full-length, III (review here), Córdoba, Argentina, trio IAH return with their third album, Omines. It is the instrumentalists’ most evocative outing to-date, their 2017 self-titled debut EP (review here) and 2018’s II (review here) having preceded III on a steady forward progression of sound. As they step away from their numbering system — admittedly counterintuitive, since III was the sophomore LP, etc. — Omines brings an expansive collection of eight songs that runs 64 minutes and finds guitarist Mauricio Condon, bassist Juan Pablo Lucco Borlera and drummer José Landín deeply entrenched in a range of atmospheres, weighted and wistful in kind in some stretches, more brazenly heavy in others.
Their established methodology of recording live at 440 Estudio alongside producer Mario Carnerero on the recording and mix means there’s a consistency of tone and general sound between the 2020 and 2021 releases, to be sure, but there can be no question that IAH are trying new things in these tracks.
Maybe that’s most exemplified by “Brilo” and “Omines,” which would presumably end LP1 and LP2 of a double-vinyl release; tracks four and eight of eight, in any case. The former introduces Federico Dávila Kurbán on cello in its second half, having to that point dedicated itself to sampling that sounds like found audio from some dug-out playful memory — people laughing, talking, existing in a space together, which seems like a novelty given the era through which humanity has just lived and is still living — and minimal, appropriately melancholy guitar.
There are no drums, but the cello weaves around the guitar line in a way that feels especially lush despite a general lack of effects accompanying, and it sets up Kurbán‘s return on cello and piano in Omines‘ title-track, also the longest inclusion at 13:57 and bound to be a focal point of the album that bears its name for the further collaboration it brings with Jan Rutka and Kamil Ziółkowski of Poland’s Spaceslug, who both contribute the first vocals that have appeared on an IAH record, their echoing, melodic, mellow drawl fitting smoothly over the forward march of the song’s first six minutes before a stop — or at least a drop-everything-but-the-bass — brings about the next movement of the piece, which invites the cello back before proceeding to a crash to quiet, a surge to loudness, and a drift of guitar/wash of cymbal before Kurbán gives the epilogue on piano, seeming to nod at the “Moonlight Sonata” in so doing.
In such a way, “Omines” almost functions as three different songs, or at least two with the transitional piece between, but by the time it arrives, the listener has already followed IAH‘s turns and moods for an hour, and “Omines” by no means feels like too much of a leap to take all the more for the preface they give it with “Brilo.” Omines also brings a notable shift in structure, moving off from pairing longer songs with shorter ones in favor of opening with “Cernunnos” (11:19), “L’Esprit de L’Escalier” (9:09) and “Sunon” (8:07) before moving into the midsection trio of “Brilo” (4:13), “Luno” (5:41) and “Arce” (3:00), the last of which is the briefest work they’ve yet put on an album and is named presumably for Yawning Man guitarist Gary Arce, whose influence seems to be heard in the ringing resonant guitar line. With “Naga” (9:22) ahead of “Omines” (again, nearly 14 minutes), the bookended makeup of Omines is complete, and the effect of being wholly immersed in the ambience IAH have crafted is not to be understated. “Cernunnos” builds up to a heavy and ultimately defining riff, but it takes four minutes-plus to do so and it returns to that more open-feeling atmosphere after the riff cuts back out, the toms and subdued guitar and bass feeling more post-rock than anything IAH have done before.
The band’s growth in patience has been gradual from the self-titled on, and Omines is another forward step. As satisfying as it is to have the memorable central riff of “Cernunnos” kick in — starts and stops, universally well timed, feature throughout the album — “L’Esprit de L’Escalier” is a highlight because it feels more even in its procession, at least until the later slowdown transitions back to the beginning ambience as if to remind you of how far you’ve come. And as the third in the extended salvo, “Sunon” calls to mind Neurosis‘ “Reach” in the quieter guitar line that emerges about four and a half minutes in, while using that figure as a launch point for its own progressive exploration coming off the song’s still-relatively-serene midsection and transitioning fluidly into “Brilo,” which acts as a complement in terms of mood.
“Luno” begins with a stretch of soft ambience before bursting out with its heavier push, redirecting the course of Omines as a whole such that even as it shifts into, out of, and back into its own drift, it resets the listener’s position in a way that feels like a callback to “Cernunnos” without actually being one, particularly as “Arce” follows with its featured (maybe improvised?) lead line over a drone and bassline that holds its place well in the spaciousness the band create. That leaves only “Naga” ahead of “Omines,” and it becomes clear just how much of an outlier the title-track is — clever of the band to name the record after it, automatically making it crucial rather than seeming like a bonus cut tagged on the end — since it’s “Naga” that draws the front and back halves of Omines together, answering back the catchy groove of “Cernunnos” with one of its own, a chug and stretch that feels like the band filtering Karma to Burn through their own impulses. They depart following that main riff for a time, but ultimately come back around and close out with sudden snare hits, leaving the creeping guitar of “Omines” to pick up from the silence.
Which it does with a quick turn to its first verse, wasting no time in marking its place both on Omines and in IAH‘s (and Spaceslug‘s) pantheon. How that collaboration with Rutka and Ziółkowski came about, I have no idea, but “Omines” argues in favor of pushing further into that particular unknown as IAH tread their own path from release to release. Omines sees them continuing to flourish in sound, finding ways to make their airiest moments land with no less resonance than their densest-seeming. They remain likewise reliable in the quality of their craft and unpredictable as to just what they’ll do with it next.
Posted in Whathaveyou on November 1st, 2021 by JJ Koczan
Buenos Aires-based heavy instrumentalists Poseidótica are looking to release a new full-length next year — as are many at this point; I’ve got a growing list to prove it — and they’ve prefaced that offering with a new single called “Æon” that marks their third since lockdown last year, following behind May 2020’s mostly-drone “Aire” and Nov. 2020’s resonant escapist jaunt “Repercusión,” drifting in its initial guitar and percussion and later unfolding in a krautrock electronic pulse, like it turned out you were vacationing in the future the whole time. Given the shape that future has taken in reality, you might want to book with a different travel agent next time.
Nonetheless, “Æon” presents a more evened-out approach to progressive heavy psychedelic rock, though it still works in movements across its five-plus minutes, and the band seem to intimate that such will be the way of things on the impending long-player, which will not actually feature the track itself. Fair enough. Onto the aforementioned list they go, and one looks forward to finding out precisely where the last few years and a swap in guitarists has taken them.
They’ve also got a recent reissue out on Clostridium Records, and yes, I’m late on this news. What else is new?
From the PR wire:
In September 2021 Poseidótica released a new song called “Æon” that hints at the paths their fifth studio album will take, which is in the pre-production process and is scheduled to be released in mid-2022.
“Æon” presents as a novelty the entry of Eugenio De Luca, the group’s new guitarist replacing founding member Hernán Miceli, and was mixed and mastered by Martín Furia (actual guitarist of German’s thrash metal legends Destruction) in Antwerp, Belgium.
Although the song will not be included in the album, the track explores into the classic dynamics of the band with a more space and progressive rock approach.
During the isolation of 2020, the instrumental group that has already been on the road for 20 years, took the opportunity to deliver its full discography on vinyl and cassette through its own label Aquatalan Records, also releasing several limited editions of singles and EPs in 7″ format, making musical collaborations with some other alternative artists from Argentina like Boom Boom Kid, Carca, Marina Fages and Santiago Córdoba.
Their first three albums “Intramundo”, “La Distancia” and “Crónicas del Futuro” have exclusive distribution worldwide via Kozmik Artifactz.
In August 2021 their fourth album “El Dilema del Origen” was reissued on vinyl by the German label Clostridium Records in three different deluxe editions (Black, Bi-Colour and Swirl die-hard exclusive label edition).
With the flexibility of the restrictions in Argentina, the band returned to perform live concerts in their country, and had several shows scheduled between the end of the year and the beginning of 2022.
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 28th, 2021 by JJ Koczan
The latest offering from Buenos Aires-based trio Ambassador is the aptly-titled 2020 live album, En Vivo, which was released through Bandcamp in a tape edition of — wait for it… — five copies. That, in case it didn’t sink in, is not very many copies. As they’ve aligned to Interstellar Smoke Records, more than that have been pressed of their 2016 self-titled debut. Specifically 241 more. They’ve also since followed that debut with 2018’s Ambassador 2 and a couple other short outings, but in ethic and style, it’s easy enough to understand what might’ve had the label come calling for the first record first.
Analog-loyal, Ambassador reportedly tracked the album live, to tape, in a single take. That is, they showed up, checked mics and hit it. A live-in-studio release is bold in any case — capturing in maximum fidelity all the warts along the way as it does — but for a debut it feels like an especially bold move. What’re the stakes? I don’t know, but one way or the other there’s no arguing with results.
For what it’s worth though, I did more than one take typing this.
From the PR wire:
Heavy Blues Rock trio Ambassador team up with Interstellar Smoke Records to release their brilliantly crushing debut album on vinyl!
#ISR066: AMBASSADOR “Ambassador” #ISR RED DOWN VINYL EDITION LTD. 250 COPIES
*Trans Violet Vinyl 180 grams, housed in standard LP-sleeve cover, comes in single-pocket cover, double-sided print insert and poster A3.
*Trans Violet Vinyl Hand-Crafted in 33 1/3 RPM, with new special audiophile mastering for vinyl edition to get the highest possible sound quality at Velozet Estudio by Dylan Lerner and Masterized at Delajungla Estudio by Hernan Asconiga
All analogic recorded(!)
This album was recorded live and in one take(!)
Heavy Blues Rock Trio in BEST POSSIBLE FORM ! ! !
Tracklist: 1. Blues del origen 05:07 2. Estado Natural 04:05 3. Arbol de la paz 03:54 4. Espejismo 03:57 5. Siniestro 06:11 6. Por los caminos 02:54 7. La amenaza del pombero 03:06 8. Donde pega el sol 03:58 9. Tiempo 01:32
Ambassador: Maxi Álvarez Guitarra y Voz Emiliano Arrettino Bajo Lucas Calabrese Batería
