Posted in Whathaveyou on February 25th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
There’s no audio on their website or Bandcamp — the latter has shirts if you find yourself digging the logo — but I managed to find a snippet of Insomniac music on their Instagram, included in a Reel plugging their tour with Dead Register that ended last week. It’s just a few seconds, teaser of a teaser, but better than nothing. And even from that, I think you can get a sense that space is important in their sound, and that there’s a melody/heft collusion happening in that open-feeling expanse. I’m not gonna tag them with a genre or anything based on eight-to-10 seconds of hearing them, but that post is below, or a link to it is below, or whatever I can’t embed shit anymore the internet is broken if I could abandon ship and jump off the planet I’d already be gone.
Of course, the reason I spent upwards of seven earth minutes actually looking for a thing — in this case an Insomniac song — was because the band’s newly signed to Blues Funeral Recordings and Jadd‘s on a roll for the post-pandemic 2020s. Will be looking forward to hearing this one when the time comes.
From social media, which, sadly, is where these kinds of things are still posted:
We rarely get the chance to sign bands in person, so our founder was immensely grateful to meet and witness the extraordinary INSOMNIAC perform here in the desert last week, and we’re tremendously stoked to welcome them to the label! 🗿🌙🌵
Atlanta’s INSOMNIAC blend mind-expanding psychedelia with cosmic atmospherics and drony post-metal in a way that’s utterly transporting. Featuring members of Zoroaster, Hank III and Deceased, INSOMNIAC will guide you on an aural trip through your mind’s peaks and valleys toward enlightenment. Fans of REZN, Dead Meadow, King Buffalo and Russian Circles, prepare to journey within and ascend toward enlightenment when Blues Funeral presents INSOMNIAC’s debut LP this year! 🤘
Insomniac: Juan Garcia – Bass Guitar Mike Morris – Guitar, Vocals Van Bassman – Vocals Amos Rifkin – Percussion, Vocals Alex Avedissian – Guitar
Posted in Reviews on December 13th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
It’s been almost too easy, this week. Like, I was running a little later yesterday than I had the day before and I’m pretty sure it was only a big deal because — well, I was busy and distracted, to be fair — but mostly because the rest of the week to compare it against has been so gosh darn smooth. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. This is the last day. The music’s awesome. Barring actual disaster, like a car accident between now and then or some such, I’ll finish this one with minimal loss of breath.
Set against the last two Quarterly Reviews, one of which went 10 days, the other one 11, this five-dayer has been mellow and fun. As always, good music helps with that, and as has been the case since Monday, there’s plenty of it here. Not one day has gone by that I didn’t add something from the batch of 50 releases to my year-end list, which, again, barring disaster, should be out next week.
Quarterly Review #41-50:
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Cosmic Fall, Back Where the Fire Flows
After setting a high standard of prolific releases across 2017 and 2018 to much celebration and social media ballyhooing, Berlin jammers Cosmic Fall issued their single “Lackland” (review here) in mid-2019, and Back Where the Fire Flows is their first offering since. The apparently-reinvigorated lineup of the band includes bassist Klaus Friedrich and drummer Daniel Sax alongside new guitarist Leonardo Caprioli, and if there was any concern they might’ve lost the floating resonance that typified their earlier material, 13-minute opener and longest track (immediate points) “Lucid Skies Above Mars” allays it fluidly. The more straightforwardly riffed “Magma Rising” (4:31) and the tense shuffler “Under the Influence of Gravity” (4:38) follow that leadoff, with a blowout and feedback finish for the latter that eases the shift back into spacious-jammy mode for “Chant of the Lizards” (12:26) — perhaps titled in honor of the likeness the central guitar figure carries to The Doors — with “Drive the Kraut” (10:34) closing with the plotted sensibility of Earthless by building to a fervent head and crashing out quick as they might, and one hopes will, on stage. A welcome return and hopefully a preface to more.
It doesn’t seem inappropriate to think of Weather Systems as a successor to Anathema, which until they broke up in 2020 was multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Daniel Cavanagh‘s main outlet of 30 years’ standing. Teamed here with Anathema drummer/producer Daniel Cardoso and producer Tony Doogan, who helmed Anathema‘s 2017 album, The Optimist (review here), Cavanagh is for sure in conversation with his former outfit. There are nuances like the glitchy synth in “Ocean Without a Shore” or the post-punk urgency in the rush of highlight cut “Ghost in the Machine,” and for those who felt the Anathema story was incomplete, “Are You There? Pt. 2” and “Untouchable Pt. 3” are direct sequels to songs from that band, so the messaging of Weather Systems picking up where Anathema left of is clear, and Cavanagh unsurprisingly sounds at home in such a context. Performing most of the instruments himself and welcoming a few guests on vocals, he leads the project to a place where listening can feel like an act of emotional labor, but with songs that undeniably sooth and offer space for comfort, which is their stated intention. Curious to hear how Weather Systems develops.
Assembled by bassist Ron Holzner and his The Skull bandmate, guitarist Lothar Keller, Legions of Doom are something of a doom metal supergroup with Henry Vasquez (Saint Vitus, Blood of the Sun) on drums, Scott Little (Leadfoot) on guitar alongside Keller, and vocalists Scott Reagers (Saint Vitus) and Karl Agell (Leadfoot, Lie Heavy, C.O.C.‘s Blind LP) sharing frontman duties. Perhaps the best compliment one can give The Skull 3 — which sources its material in part from the final The Skull session prior to the death of vocalist Eric Wagner — is that it lives up to the pedigree of those who made it. No great shocker the music is in the style of The Skull since that’s the point. The question is how the band build on songs like “All Good Things” and “Between Darkness and Dawn” and the ripping “Insectiside” (sic), but this initial look proves the concept and is ready and willing to school the listener across its eight tracks on how classic doom got to be that way.
The first offering from Netherlands mellow psych-folk two-piece Myriad’s Veil brims with sweet melody and a subtly expansive atmosphere, bringing together Utrecht singer-songwriter Ismena, who has several albums out as a solo artist, and guitarist Ivy van der Meer, also of Amsterdam cosmic rockers Temple Fang for a collection of eight songs running 44 minutes of patiently-crafted, thoughtfully melodic and graceful performance. Ismena is no stranger to melancholia and the layers of “When the Leaves Start Falling” with the backing line of classical guitar and Mellotron give a neo-Canterbury impression without losing their own expressive edge. Most pieces stand between five and six minutes each, which is enough time for atmospheres to blossom and flourish for a while, and though the arrangements vary, the songs are united around acoustic guitar and voice, and so the underpinning is traditional no matter where Pendant goes. The foundation is a strength rather than a hindrance, and Ismena and van der Meer greet listeners with serenity and a lush but organic character of sound.
Never short on attitude, “I Only Play 4 Money” — “If you take my picture/Your camera’s smashed/You write me fan mail/I don’t write back,” etc. — leads off Michael Rudolph Cummings‘ latest solo EP, the four-track Money with a fleshed out arrangement not unlike one might’ve found on 2022’s You Know How I Get (review here), released by Ripple Music. From there, the erstwhile Backwoods Payback frontman, Boozewa anti-frontman and grown-up punk/grunge troubadour embarks on the more stripped down, guy-and-guitar strums and contemplations of “Deny the World” and “Easier to Leave,” the latter with more than a hint of Americana, and “Denver,” which returns to the full band, classic-style lead guitar flourish, layered vocals and drums, and perhaps even more crucially, bass. It’s somewhere around 13 minutes of music, all told, but that’s more than enough time for Cummings to showcase mastery in multiple forms of his craft and the engaging nature of what’s gradually becoming his “solo sound.”
Basking in a heavygaze float with the lead guitar while the markedly-terrestrial riff chugs and echoes out below, Moon Destroy‘s “The Nearness of June” is three and a half minutes long and the first single the Atlanta outfit founded by guitarist Juan Montoya (MonstrO, ex-Torche, etc.) and drummer Evan Diprima (also bass and synth, ex-Royal Thunder) have had since guitarist/vocalist/synthesist Charlie Suárez joined the band. Set across a forward linear build that quickly gets intense behind Suárez‘s chanting intertwining vocal lines, delivered mellow with a low-in-mouth melody, it’s a tension that slams into a slowdown in the second half of the song but holds over into the solo and fadeout march of the second half as well as it builds back up, the three-piece giving a quick glimpse of what a debut full-length might hopefully bring in terms of aural largesse, depth of mix and atmospheric soundscaping. I have no idea when, where or how such a thing would or will arrive, but that album will be a thing to look forward to.
Billed as Coltaine‘s debut LP — the history of the band is a bit more complex if I recall — Forgotten Ways is nonetheless a point of arrival for the Karlsruhe, Germany, four-piece. It is genuinely post-metallic in the spirit of being over genre completely, and as Julia Frasch makes the first harsh/clean vocal switch late in opener “Mogila,” with drummer Amin Bouzeghaia, bassist Benedikt Berg and guitarist Moritz Berg building the procession behind the soar, the band use their longest/opening track (immediate points) to establish the world in which the songs that follow take place. The cinematic drone of “Himmelwärts” and echoing goth metal of “Dans un Nouveau Monde” follow, leading the way into the wind-and-vocal minimalism of “Cloud Forest” at the presumed end of side A only to renew the opener’s crush in the side B leadoff title-track. Also the centerpiece of the album, “Cloud Forest” has room to touch on German-language folk before resuming its Obituary-meets-Amenra roll, and does not get less expansive from that initial two minutes or so. As striking as the two longest pieces are, Forgotten Ways is bolstered by the guitar ambience of “Ableben,” which leads into the pair of “Grace” and “Tales of Southern Lands,” both of which move from quieter outsets into explosive heft, each with their own path, the latter in half the time, and the riff-and-thud-then-go 77 seconds of “Aren” caps because why the hell not at that point. With a Jan Oberg mix adding to the breadth, Coltaine‘s declared-first LP brims with scope and progressive purpose. It is among the best debuts I’ve heard in 2024, easily.
Zagreb-based veteran heavy rockers Stonebride — the four-piece of vocalist/guitarist Siniša Krneta, bassist/vocalist Matija Ljevar, guitarist Tješimir Mendaš and drummer Stjepan Kolobarić — give a strong argument for maturity of songwriting from the outset of Smiles Revolutionary, their fourth long-player. The ease with which they let the melody carry “In Presence,” knowing that the song doesn’t need to be as heavy as possible at all times since it still has presence, or the way the organ laces into the mix in the instrumental rush that brings the subsequent “Turn Back” to a finish before the early-QOTSA/bangin’-on-stuff crunch of “Closing Distance” tops old desert tones with harmonies worthy of Alice in Chains leading, inexorably, to a massive, lumbering nod of a payoff — they’re not written to be anything other than what they are, and in part because of that they stand testament to the long-standing progression of Stonebride. “Shine Hard” starts with a mosh riff given its due in crash early and late with a less-shove-minded jam between, part noise rock, answered by the progressive start-stop build of “March on the Heart” and closer “Time and Tide,” which dares a little funk in its outreach and leaves off with a nodding crescendo and smooth comedown, having come in and ultimately going out on a swell of vocals. Not particularly long, but substantial.
Toad Venom will acknowledge their new mini-album, Jag Har Inga Problen Osv…, was mixed and mastered by Kalle Lilja of Welfare Sounds studio and label, but beyond that, the Swedish weirdo joy psych rock transcendentalists offer no clue as to who’s actually involved in the band. By the time they get down to “Dogs!” doing a reverse-POV of The Stooges‘ “I Wanna Be Your Dog” in classic soul style, they’ve already celebrated in the rushing bliss and Beatles-y Mellotron break of opener “Jag har verkligen inga problem (så det måste vara du),” taken “One Day You Will Be Perfect” from manic boogie to sunny Californian psych/folk rock, underscoring its chorus with a riff that could easily otherwise be black metal, dwelled in the organ and keyboard dramaturge amid the rolling “Mon Amour” — the keys win the day in the end and are classy about it afterward, but it’s guitar that ends it — and found a post-punk gothy shuffle for “Time Lapse,” poppish but not without the threat of bite. So yes, half an album, as they state it, but quite a half if you’re going by scope and aesthetic. I don’t know how much of a ‘band’ Toad Venom set out to be, but they’ve hit on a sound that draws from sources as familiar as 1960s psychedelia and manages to create a fresh approach from it. To me, that speaks of their being onto something special in these songs. Can’t help but wonder what’s in store for the second half.
Following up on the organ-and-fuzz molten flow of “Radio Radiation” with the more emotive, Rolling Stones-y-until-it-gets-heavy storytelling of “Antihero,” Berlin’s Sacred Buzz carve out their own niche in weighted garage rock, taking in elements of psychedelia without ever pushing entirely over into something shroomy sounding — to wit, the proto-punk tension of quirky delivery of “Revolution” — staying grounded in structure and honoring dirt-coated traditionalism with dynamic performances, “No Wings” coming off sleazy in its groove without actually being sleaze, “Make it Go Wrong” revealing a proggy shimmer that turns careening and twists to a finish led by the keys and guitar, and “Rebel Machine” blowing it out at the end because, yeah, I mean, duh. Radio Radiation is Sacred Buzz‘s first EP (it’s more if you get the bonus track), and it seems to effortlessly buck the expectations of genre without sounding like it’s trying to push those same limits. Maybe attitude and the punk-born casual cool that overrides it all has something to do with that impression — a swagger that’s earned by the time they’re done, to be sure — but the songs are right there to back that up. The short format suits them, and they make it flow like an album. A strong initial showing.
Posted in Reviews on October 18th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
So this is it for the second of two Quarterly Review weeks around here, bringing the total to 100 releases covered since last Monday, with 10 more still to come next Monday.
110 releases, mostly (not all) from about April through November.
That’s insane. More, I’m not in any way prepared to call it or any other Quarterly Review comprehensive. It’s nowhere near everything that’s come out or is coming out. It’s a fraction at best. There’s just so much.
I’m not going to attach a value judgment to that. It’s not good, it’s not bad; it simply is. My processes remain largely unchanged, and whether it’s a net positive that the underground is either sparse and fractured or flooded with bands to such a point that Gen-X reunions underwhelm in the face of so much good, new music being made, I’ll be here regardless. And even if there were a fifth as many bands out there as there are right now, no doubt I still couldn’t keep up.
See you Monday.
Quarterly Review #91-100:
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Elder, Live at BBC Maida Vale Studios
While it’s by no means Elder‘s first captured-live release, as they’ve put out festival sets from Roadburn and Sonic Whip in years past, Live at BBC Maida Vale Studios answers any what’s-all-this-about questions with the sound of the performances themselves. It’s a single LP, somewhere about 40 minutes long, and in Elder terms that translates to three songs — “Merged in Dreams/Ne Plus Ultra” (15:33), “Lore” (13:54) and “Thousand Hands” (9:21) — so by no means is it expansive, or comprehensive in representing this era of Elder‘s presence on stage or scope in songwriting. Why put it out instead of some recorded tour night or a compilation of songs from different shows? Same answer as before: the sound of the performances. For sure Live at BBC Maida Vale Studios is a fan-piece, but it is live, and Elder sound fantastic — and it’s probably a pretty decent memory for the band to celebrate — so you’re not at all going to hear me argue.
Simon Price, now formerly of UK heavy psych forebears The Heads, returns with the first Kandodo outing since 2019’s K3 (review here) and a reoriented focus on intimacy rather than operating in a full-band style. That is to say, the five-track/44-minute release sounds like the solo album it is. That, however, doesn’t stop “Fuzzyoceans” from casting an expanse in its just-under-11 minutes, with a central rhythmic bounce around which layers of synth and guitar conjure a wash of experimentalist flourish. Lo-fi beatmaking starts in “Chamba7,” the opener, and sounds higher budget as “Theendisinpsych Pt. 1” borders on psych techno — “Theendisinpsych Pt. 2” follows immediately and moves from sustained keyboard notes and a sampled David Bowie radio interview to an evocative, shimmering drone; it isn’t arhythmic, but it doens’t have a ‘beat’ per se — and becomes part of the avant garde soundscape (the lightning part) in closer “Freefalling,” which unfolds in stages of variable volume and hum with some howling leads snuck in near the end. It’s a deep dive and at times a challenging listen. So yes, exactly what one would hope.
When High Reeper‘s third LP, Renewed by Death, was announced back in July, it was notable how much the album’s narrative seemed to position them as a metal band rather than heavy/doom rock, which even though 2019’s Higher Reeper (review here) had its harder-hitting moments, is kind of how I’d come to think of them. The eight songs of Renewed by Death aren’t hyper-aggressive — though you wouldn’t call “Torn from Within” ‘chill’ by any means — but they feel sharper in their composition than the last record, and if High Reeper want to say that “Lamentations of the Pale” and “Jaws of Darkness” are their take on doom metal, I’d only emphasize how much that take feels like High Reeper‘s own in being cognizant of the traditional metal and doom aspects of their sound and making them groove as fervently as they do. The Eastern Seaboard is lucky to have them.
A low-key highlight of 2024, the collaboration between Norwegian neofolkers Ævestaden and heavy progressive instrumentalists Kanaan — titled Langt, Langt Vekk and comprising nine songs of varied intent, arrangement and origin — resounds with creative depth. It’s in Norwegian, and plays a lot off of traditional folk instrumentation and vocal styles — not to mention the songs themselves, which are also traditionals — but as the two sides come together even just on a three-minute instrumental piece like “Fiskaren,” there’s an organic forested space rock to be found, and whether it’s the somehow-catchy “Farvel” or “Habbor og Signe,” the cosmic-leaning “Vallåt efter C.G. Färje” or the wistful progeadelia that resolves in “Vardtjenn,” the reverence for the material is palpable, and also the reverence for the process itself, for each of these two entities contributing to something grander than either might be able or inclined to conjure on their own. That the collection worked out to be gorgeous, both worldly and otherworldly, and to cast such a breadth while remaining cohesive in mood is a credit to all involved. It could’ve been an absolute mess. It very much is not.
Slugs are Legal Now contains two live sets from experimental doomers MC MYASNOI, one from Harpa and one from R6013, both venues in the band’s hometown of Reykjavík, Iceland. The setlists are identical at six-per, but the performances are varied in a way that becomes part of the personality of the whole, which is immersive in its droning stretches, sometimes harsher in the noise being made particularly on the rougher R6013 songs, but still able to be heavy in a piece like “Step on Ur Neck” in a way that feels conversant with the likes of Ufomammut or Boris, and neither the moody post-darkjazz of “Nytrogen” nor the drums-and-rumble-do-a-minute-or-two-of-free-psych “lea%rdi%rdx2%rcx” a short time later (watch out for your speakers with that one), do anything to dissuade that impression. “Terror Serpentine” finishes both halves of Slugs are Legal Now with 11 minutes of grim sprawl, and in the culmination, that it’s the keyboard that’s shredding instead of one or the other of the guitars feels suitable to the weirdo nuance MC MYASNOI seem to come by so naturally and pair with a progressive will to grow by screwing with convention. Not going to be for everybody, but those ready to take a risk might find the reward waiting.
Back after two years with further affirmation of their comfort with the EP format, Connecticut two-piece Turkey Vulture run a condensed gamut in the six songs and 12 minutes of On the List, with the duo of vocalist/guitarist/bassist Jessie May and drummer/backing vocalist Jim Clegg giving specifically Misfits-y early punk impressions on “Fiends Like Us,” which “Untitled” takes more of a garage angle on in following before they metal-up for “Dollhouse” and the 48-second grind-punker “Adults Destroy,” which leads to thrashing in “Harvest Moon” offset by doomly swing, and the closing “Jill the Ripper,” going out on a note that toys with goth Americana in the vein of The Bad Seeds and boasts banjo, guitar, percussion and, crucially, accordion from Steve Rodgers in a multifaceted guest spot. The accordion makes it. Turkey Vulture‘s output is generally pretty raw and that’s true with On the List as well, but there’s character in them coinciding with the flow from one aspect of their sound to the next between the songs, and the EP ends up conveying a lot about what works in the band for something that’s 12 minutes long.
Doubly-bassed Brussels longform doom explorers Ghost:Whale certainly don’t get any less consciousness melting on the second disc of Dive:Two, which manifests its plunge across three extended pieces each given the title “Dub:Whale” and assigned a Roman numeral, but by then the five songs of the album’s first 67 minutes (as opposed to the 57 of the concluding trilogy) have already passed in the hypnotic, cosmic-doom push of “Under Pressure” and the synth-laced chug nod in the second half of “Les Danses des Sorcieres” that seems to come to a head in the speedier “Ultimas Palabras.” The shortest inclusion at nine minutes and by its finish spending some time cruising around a Truckfightersian desert, “Ultimas Palabras” gives over to “Godzilla” and “Eye of the Storm,” a kind of second LP within the first CD, led into by the synth of “Godzilla” — not a cover — and arriving at the farthest reach in the electronics-infused expanses of “Eye of the Storm,” for which the drums mostly sit out and the noise spends 21 minutes venturing into the unknown. Ghost:Whale are not fucking around. And obviously the “Dub:Whale” tracks are a divergence in intention, harnessing the power of repetition in a different way, but either it’s a logical extension or my brain has just gone numb from the low-end. Fine in any case, honestly.
Do I really need to tell you these guys are up to some shenanigans? They called the band Sheepfucker and Kraut, for crying out loud. Heavy rock chicanery ensues over eight tracks rife with willful misbehavior, culminating with “Broner” after turning the album’s progression into a kind of playground running between heavy rock, classic and psychedelic instrumentalism, metal and jams. It’s not a little, and I guess a namedrop for Mr. Bungle is somewhat obligatory, but the Bulgarian outfit make themselves welcome in the swath of ground they cover, punkish in their glee on top of everything else in “Bobanei” and the pop-adjacent “Look at Me,” which would seem to have some satire behind its chorus but is a standout hook just the same. They’re not all nonsense, or at least not at the expense of their songwriting in “Rich Man” and “Jolly Roger,” or “Did You Know” mirroring “Look at Me” in the penultimate spot on side B, but if people having fun while making music is a problem for you, I mean, really, you might want to have a good long think on what that’s all about. Yeah, it’s over-the-top. That’s the idea.
In some ways, LungBurner‘s second LP of 2024, Natura Duale, reminds of earliest Yatra in bringing together vicious sludge metal and a breadth of atmosphere, but the Atlanta outfit have more of a post-metallic bent as the solo of “Barren” nonetheless dares to soar, and opener/longest track (immediate points) “Requiem” establishes the first of the album’s nods in a build of standalone guitar in the spirit of YOB, and in combination with a churn that wouldn’t feel out of place on Neurot and a crush in centerpiece “(Prey) Job” that opens to a classic stoner metal swagger in its verse, the righteousness here takes many forms, most of them dark, grueling and heavy — this definitely applies to the Celtic Frosting put on the proceedings by the finale “Astral Projection” — but not without a corresponding reach or purpose. LungBurner are served by the complexity of character, and Natura Duale grows more vivid as it goes.
With their material steeped in fantasy and horror/sci-fi lore, a goodly portion of it being of their own making, Michigan’s Bog Wizard continue to find the thread between tabletop gaming and sometimes monolithic sludge. The bulk of Journey Through the Dying Lands, which is their second release in a row done in collaboration with a game company, is dedicated to opener “I, Mycelium,” which stretches across 19:50 and unfolds in stages that don’t bother to choose between being brutal or fluid, the band winding up coming across as dug-in as one might expect Bog Wizard to be in the endeavor. There are two more studio tracks, in “Dodz Bringare,” which is black metal until it slams into the doom wall, and “Hagfish Dinner,” on which they depart for two minutes of harmonized chant-like vocals over resonant acoustic guitar. They’re not done yet as Ben Lombard (guitar/vocals), bassist Colby Lowman and drummer/vocalist Harlen Linke offer a glimpse at some live-on-stage banter before tearing into the thrasher “Stuck in the Muck” and backing it with another live track, this one a take on “Barbaria” from 2021’s Miasmic Purple Smoke (review here) that by the time it builds to its galloping finish has already long since demanded every bit of volume you can give it.
Posted in Reviews on October 14th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Second week of the Fall 2024 Quarterly Review begins now. You stoked? Nah, probably not, but at least at the end of this week there will be another 50 records for you to check out, added to the 50 from last week to make 100 total releases covered. So, I mean, it’s not nothing. But I understand if it isn’t the make-or-break of your afternoon.
Last week was killer, and today gets us off to another good start. Crazy, it’s almost like I’m enjoying this. Who the hell ever heard of such a thing?
Quarterly Review #51-60:
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White Hills, Beyond This Fiction
New York’s own psychedelic heads on fire White Hills return with Beyond This Fiction, a collection of sounds so otherworldly and lysergic they can’t help but be real. Seven tracks range from the fluid “Throw it Up in the Air” to the bassy experimental new wave of “Clear as Day,” veering into gentle noise rock as it does before “Killing Crimson” issues its own marching orders, coming across like if you beamed Fu Manchu through the accretion disk of a black hole and the audio experienced gravitational lensing. “Fiend” brings the two sides together and dares to get a little dreamy while doing it, the interlude “Closer” is a wash of drone, and “The Awakening” is a good deal of drone itself, but topped with spoken word, and the closing title-track takes place light-years from here in a kind of time humans haven’t yet learned to measure. It’s okay. White Hills records will still be around decades from now, when humans finally catch up to them. I’m not holding my breath, though.
Five records deep into a tenure now more than a decade long, I feel like Demon Head are a band that are the answer to a lot of questions being asked. Oh, where’s the classic-style band doing something new? Who’s a band who can sound like The Cure playing black metal and be neither of those things? Where’s a band doing forward-thinking proto-doom, not at all hindered by the apparent temporal impossibility of looking ahead and back at the same time? Here they are. They’re called Demon Head. Their fifth album is called Through holes Shine the Stars, and its it’s-night-time-and-so-we-chug-different sax-afflicted ride in “Draw Down the Stars” is consuming as the band take the ’70s doomery of their beginnings to genuinely new and progressive places. The depth of vocal layering throughout — “The Chalice,” the atmo-doom sprawl of “Every Flatworm,” the rousing, swinging hook and ensuing gallop of “Frost,” and so on — adds drama and persona to the songs, and the songs aren’t wanting otherwise, with a dug-in intricacy of construction and malleable underlying groove. Seriously. Maybe Demon Head are the band you’re looking for.
You can call Earth Ship sludge metal, and you’re not really wrong, but you’re not the most right either. The Berlin-based trio founded by guitarist/vocalist Jan Oberg and bassist Sabine Oberg, plus André Klein on drums, offer enough crush to hit that mark for sure, but the tight, almost Ministry-esque vocals on the title-track, the way “Radiant” dips subtly toward psychedelia as a side-A-capping preface to the languid clean-sung nod of “Daze and Delights,” giving symmetry to what can feel chaotic as “Ethereal Limbo” builds into its crescendo, fuzzed but threatening aggression soon to manifest in “Acrid Haze,” give even the nastiest moments throughout a sense of creative reach. That is to say, Soar — which Jan Oberg also recorded, mixed and mastered at Hidden Planet Studio and which sees release through the band’s The Lasting Dose Records — resides in more than one style, with opener “Shallow” dropping some hints of what’s to come and a special lumber seeming to be dedicated to the penultimate “Bereft,” which proves to be a peak in its own right. The Obergs seem to split their time these days between Earth Ship and the somewhat more ferocious Grin. In neither outfit do they misspend it.
Bassist/vocalist Tommy Stewart (ex-Hallows Eve, owner of Black Doomba Records) once more sits in the driver’s seat of the project that shares his name, and with four new tracks Tommy Stewart’s Dyerwulf on Fyrewulf One — which I swear sounds like the name of a military helicopter or somesuch — offer what will reportedly be half of their third long-player with an intention toward delivering Fyrewulf Two next year. Fair enough. “Kept Pain Busy” is the longest and grooviest fare on offer, bolstered by the quirk of shorter opener “Me ‘n’ My Meds” and the somewhat more madcap “Zoomagazoo,” which touches on heavy rockabilly in its swing, with a duly feedback-inclusive cover of Bloodrock‘s “Melvin Laid an Egg” for good measure. The feeling of saunter is palpable there for the organ, but prevalent throughout the original songs as well, as Stewart and drummer Dennis Reid (Patrick Salerno guests on the cover) know what they’re about, whether it’s garage-punk-psych trip of “Me ‘n’ My Meds” the swing that ensues.
The narrative — blessings and peace upon it — presents A Grand Stream as the result of Smote guitarist Daniel Foggin and drummer Rob Law absconding to a cabin in the woods by a stream to write and record. There’s certainly escapism in it, and one might argue Smote‘s folk-tinged drone and atmospheric heavy meditations have always had an aspect of leaving the ol’ consciousness at the flung-open doors of perception, etc., but the 10-minute undulating-but-mostly-stationary noise in “Chantry” is still a lot to take. That it follows the 16-miinute “Coming Out of a Hedge Backwards,” laced with sitar and synth and other backing currents filling out the ambience, should be indicative of the sprawl of the over-70-minute LP to begin with. Smote aren’t strangers at this point to the expanse or to longform expression, but there still seems to be a sense of plunging into the unknown throughout A Grand Stream as they make their way deeper into the 18-minute “The Opinion of the Lamb Pt. 2,” and the rolling realization of “Sitting Stone Pt. 1” at the beginning resounds over all of it.
Hard to argue with Mammoth Caravan‘s bruising metallism, not the least because by the time you’d open your mouth to do so the Little Rock, Arkansas, trio have already run you under their aural steamroller and you’re too flat to get the words out. The six-song/36-minute Frostbitten Galaxy is the second record from the three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Robert Warner, bassist/vocalist Brandon Ringo and drummer Khetner Howton, and in the willful meander of “Cosmic Clairvoyance,” in many of their intros, in the tradeoffs of the penultimate “Prehistoric Spacefarer” and in the clean-sung finale “Sky Burial,” they not only back the outright crush of “Tusks of Orion” and “Siege in the Stars,” as well as opener/longest track (immediate points) “Absolute Zero,” with atmospheric intention, but with a bit of dared melody that feels like a foretell of things to come from the band. On Frostbitten Galaxy and its correspondingly chilly 2023 predecessor Ice Cold Oblivion (review here), Mammoth Caravan have proven they can pummel. Here they begin the process of expanding their sound around that.
If you caught Harvestman‘s psychedelic dub and guitar experimentalism on Triptych Part One (review here) earlier this year, perhaps it won’t come as a shock to find former Neurosis guitarist/vocalist Steve Von Till, aka Harvestman, working in a similar vein on Triptych Part Two. There’s more to it than just heady chill, but to be sure that’s part of what’s on offer too in the immersive drone of “The Falconer” or the 10-minute “The Hag of Beara vs. the Poet (Forest Dub),” which reinterprets and plays with the makeup of opener “The Hag of Beara vs. the Poet.” “Damascus” has a more outward-facing take and active percussive base, while “Vapour Phase” answers “The Falconer” with some later foreboding synthesis — closer “The Unjust Incarceration” adds guitar that I’ve been saying for years sounds like bagpipes and still does to this mix — while the penultimate “Galvanized and Torn Open,” despite the visceral title, brings smoother textures and a steady, calm rhythm. The story’s not finished yet, but Von Till has already covered a significant swath of ground.
Following up on 2022’s successful debut full-length, Born of Obsidian, the 11-song/37-minute Of Amber and Sand highlights the UK outfit’s flexibility of approach as regards metal, sludge, post-heavy impulses, intricate arrangements and fullness of sound as conveyed through the production. So yes, it’s quite a thing. They quietly and perhaps wisely moved on from the bit of amateur anthropology that defined the MesoAmerican thematic of the first record, and as Of Amber and Sand complements the thrown elbows in the midsection of “Death No More” and the proggy rhythmmaking of “Fenjaan” with shorter interludes of various stripes, eventually and satisfyingly getting to a point in “Bell Tower,” “Neheh” and “Timekeeper” where the ambience and the heft become one thing for a few minutes — and that’s kind of a separate journey from the rest of the record, which turns back to its purposes with “Crux Ansata,” but it works — but the surrounding interludes give each song a chance to make its own impact, and Kurokuma take advantage every time.
SlugWeed, The Mind’s Ability to Think Abstract Thoughts
Do you think a band called SlugWeed would be heavy and slow? If so, you’d be right. Would it help if I told you the last single was called “Bongcloud?” The instrumental New England solo-project — which, like anything else these days, might be AI — has an ecosystem’s worth of releases up on Bandcamp dating back to an apparent birth as a pandemic project with the long-player The Power of the Leaf, and the 11-minute single “The Mind’s Ability to Think Abstract Thoughts” follows the pattern in holding to the central ethic of lumbering instrumental riffage, all dank and probably knowing about trichomes and such. The song itself is a massive chug-and-groover, and gradually opens to a more atmospheric texture as it goes, but the central idea is in the going itself, which is slow, plodding, and returns from its drift around a fervent chug that reminds of a (slower) take on some of what Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol had on offer earlier in the year. It probably won’t be long before SlugWeed return with anther single or EP, so “The Mind’s Ability to Think Abstract Thoughts” may just be a step on the way. Fine for the size of the footprint in question.
Dug-in solo krautistry from Tempe, Arizona’s Jeff Hopp, Man and Robot Society‘s Asteroid Lost comes steeped in science-fiction lore and mellow space-prog vibes. It’s immersive, and not a story without struggle or conflict as represented in the music — which is instrumental and doesn’t really want, need or have a ton of room for vocals, though there are spots where shoehorning could be done if Hopp was desperate — but if you take the trip just as it is, either put your own story to it or just go with the music, the music is enough to go on itself, and there’s more than one applicable thread of plot to be woven in “Nomads of the Sand” or the later “Man of Chrome,” which resonates a classic feel in the guitar ahead of the more vibrant space funk of “The Nekropol,” which stages a righteous keyboard takeover as it comes out of its midsection and into the theremin-sounding second half. You never quite know what’s coming next, but since it all flows as a single work, that becomes part of the experience Man and Robot Society offer, and is a strength as the closing title-track loses the asteroid but finds a bit of fuzzy twist to finish.
Ah, a Quarterly Review Wednesday. Always a special occasion. Monday starts out with a daunting look at the task ahead. Tuesday is all digging in and just not trying to repeat myself too much. Wednesday, traditionally, is where we hit the halfway point. The top of the hill.
Not the case this time since I’ll have 10 records each written up next Monday and Tuesday, but crossing the midpoint of this week alone feels like an accomplishment and you’ll pardon me if I mark it as such. If you’re wondering how the rest of the week will go, tomorrow is all-business and Friday’s usually a party one way or the other. My head gets so in it by the middle of next week I’ll be surprised not to be doing this anymore. So it goes.
Quarterly Review #21-30:
Khanate, To Be Cruel
Who among mortals could hope to capture the horrors of Khanate in simple words? The once-New York-based avant sludge ultragroup end a 14-year hiatus with To Be Cruel, a fourth album, comprising three songs running between 19-21 minutes each that breed superlative hatefulness. At once overwhelming and minimalist, with opener “Like a Poisoned Dog” placing the listener in a homemade basement dungeon with the sharp, disaffection-incarnate bark of Alan Dubin (also Gnaw) cutting through the weighted slog in the guitar of Stephen O’Malley (also SunnO))), et al), the bass of James Plotkin (more than one can count, and he probably also mastered your band’s record) and the noise free-jazz drumming of Tim Wyskida (Blind Idiot God, etc.), they retain the disturbing brilliance last heard from in 2009’s Clean Hands Go Foul (discussed here) and are no less caustic for the intervening years. “It Wants to Fly” is expansive and wretched death poetry set to drone doom, a ritual made of its own misery, and the concluding title-track goes quiet in its midsection as though to let every wrenching anguish have its own space in the song. There is no one like them, though many have tried to convey some of what apparently only Khanate can. As our plague-infested, world-burning, war-making, fear-driven species plunges further into this terrible century, Khanate is the soundtrack we earn. We are all complicit. All guilty.
Though plenty atmospheric besides, Vancouver heavy fuzz rockers Space Queen add atmosphere to their nine-song/26-minute Nebula EP through a series of four interludes: the a capella three-part harmonies of “Deluge,” the acoustic-strummed “Veil” and “Sun Interlude,” and the finishing manipulated space-command sample in “End Transmission” after the richly melodic doom rock of “Transmission/Lost Causemonaut.” That penultimate inclusion is the longest at 6:14 and tells a story in a way that feels informed by the three-piece of drummer/vocalist Karli MacIntosh, guitarist/vocalist Jenna Earle and bassist/keyboardist/vocalist Seah Maister‘s past in the folk outfit Sound of the Sun, but transposes its melodic sensibility into a heavier context. It and the prior garage-psych highlight “When it Gets Light” — a lighter initial electric strum that arrives in willful-seeming contrast to “Darkest Part” immediately preceding — depart from the more straight-ahead push of opener “Battle Cry” and the guitar-screamer “Demon Queen” separated from it by the first interlude. Where those two come across as working with Alice in Chains as a defining influence — something the folk elements don’t necessarily argue against — the Nebula EP grows broader as it moves through its brief course, and flows throughout with its veering into and out of songs and short pieces. This is Space Queen‘s second EP, and if they’re interested in making a full-length next, they sound ready.
Fasano, Italy’s King Potenaz debut on Argonauta Records with Goat Rider, which conjures raw fuzz, garage-doom atmospherics, and vocals that edge toward aggression and classic cave metal, early Venom or Celtic Frost having a role to play even alongside the transposition of Kyuss riffing taking place in the title-track, which follows “Among Ruins” and “Pyramids Planet,” both of which featured on the trio’s 2022 Demo 6:66, and which set a tone of riff-led revelry here with a sound that reminds of turn-of-the-century era stoner explorations, but grows richer as it moves into “Pazuzu (3:33)” — it’s actually 5:18 — with guest vocals from Sabilla and the quiet three-minute instrumental “Cosmic Voyager” planet-caravanning into the 51-minute album’s second half, where “Moriendoom (La Ballata di Ippolita Oderisi)” and the even doomier “Monolithic” dig into cultish vibes and set up the bleak shuffle of nine-minute closer “Dancing Plague,” departing from its central ’90s-heavy riff into a mellow-psych movement and then returning from that outward stretch to end. Even at its most familiar, Goat Rider finds some way to harness an individual edge, cleverly using the mix itself as an instrument to create the space in which the songs dwell. It may take a few listens to sink in, but there’s real potential in what they’re doing.
With the release of their third album, New World Hoarder, German art-sludgers Treedeon celebrate their first decade as a band. The combined vinyl-with-CD follows 2018’s Under the Manchineel (review here) and proffers raw cosmic doom in “Omega Time Bomb,” crossing the 10-minute line for the first time after the particularly-agonized opener “Nutcrème Superspreader” and before the title-track’s nodding riff brings bassist Yvonne Ducksworth to the fore vocally, trading off with guitarist Arne Heesch as drummer Andy Schünemann crashes cyclically behind. “New World Hoarder” gives over to side B opener “Viking Meditation Song,” which rolls like an evil-er version of Goatsnake, and “RHV1,” on which Heesch and Ducksworth share vocal duties, as they also do in 12-minute closer “Läderlappen” — a shouting duet in the first half feels long in arriving, but that’s how you know the album works — as the band cap with more massive chug following an interplay of melody and throatier fare. They’re right to ride that groove, as they’re right about so much else on the record. Like much of what Exile on Mainstream puts out, Treedeon are stylistically intricate and underrated in kind.
There are a couple different angles of approach one might take in hearing Orsak:Oslo‘s In Irons full-length. The Norway/Sweden-based instrumental troupe have been heretofore lumped in with heavy post-rock and ambient soundscaping, which is fair enough, but what they actually unveil in “068 The Swell” (premiered here), is a calming interpretation of space rock. With experimentalism on display in its late atmospheric drone comedown, “068 The Swell” moves directly into the more physical “079 Dutchman’s Wake (Part I),” the languid boogie feeling modern in presentation and classic in construction and the chemistry between the members of the band. The drums sit out much of the first half of “069 In What Way Are You Different,” giving a sense of stillness to the drone there, but the song embraces a bigger feel toward its finish, and that sets up the feedback intro to “078 The Mute (Part II),” which veers dreamily between amplifier drone and complementary melodic guitar flourish. Taking 17 minutes to do it, they close with “074 Hadal Blue,” which more broadly applies the space-chill of “068 The Swell” and emphasizes flow and organic changes from one part to the next. Immersive, it would be one to get lost in if it weren’t so satisfying to pay attention.
Fuck. Yes. As much grind as sludge as electronics-infused hardcore as it is furious, unadulterated noise, the 12-song/50-minute onslaught that is Boss Blades arrives via Modern Grievance at the behest of Jon Weisnewski, also of Sandrider, formerly of Akimbo. If Weisnewski‘s name alone and the fact that Matt Bayles mixed the self-recorded debut LP aren’t enough to pull you into the tornado of violence and maddening brood that opener “Boss Blades” uses to open — extra force provided by one of two guest vocal spots from Dave Verellen of Botch; the other is on “Lasers in the Jungle” later on — then perhaps the seven-minute semi-industrial march of “Obsolete Food” or the bruising intensity of “Poorly Made Pots” or the minute and a half of sample-topped drone psych in “Guitart,” the extreme prog metal of “Eat Meth” or “Manifest Piss Tape” will do the trick, or the nine-minute near-centerpiece “Many Knives” (which, if there’s a Genghis Tron influence here generally — and there might be — is more the last record than the older stuff) with its slow keyboard unfolding as a backdrop for Dust Moth‘s Irene Barber to make her own guest appearance, plenty of post-everything cacophony mounting by the end, grandiose and consuming. I could go on — every track is a new way to die — but suffice it to say that this is what my brain sounds like when my kid and my wife are talking to me about different things at the same time and it feels like my skull is on fire and I have an aneurysm and keel over. Good wins.
Sometimes harsh but always free, 2022’s Chapter 4 from Croatian instrumentalist double-guitar five-piece Mycena — guitarists Marin Mitić and Pavle Bojanić, bassist Karlo Cmrk, drummer Igor Vidaković and synthesist/noisemaker Aleksandar Vrhovec — brings three tracks that are distinct unto themselves but listed as part of the same entirety, dubbed “Dissolution” and divided into “Dissolution Part 1” (17:49), “Dissolution Part 2” (3:03), and “Dissolution Part 3” (18:11), and it may well be that what’s being dissolved is the notion that rock and roll must be confined to verse/chorus structuring. Invariably, Earthless are a comparison point for longform instrumental heavy anything, and given the shred in “Dissolution Part 1” around five minutes deep and the torrent rockblast in the first half of “Dissolution Part 3” before it melts to near-silence and quietly noodles its way through its somehow-dub-informed last 11 or so minutes, building in presence but not actually blowing up to full volume as it caps. While totaling a manageable 39 minutes, Chapter 4 is a journey nonetheless, with a scope that comes through even in “Dissolution Part 2,” which may just be an interlude but still carries a steady rhythm that seems to reorient the band ahead of their diving into the extended final part, the band sounding natural in making changes that would undo acts with less chemistry.
Filthy tone. Just absolutely nasty. Atlanta’s Bog Monkey tracked Hollow, their self-released debut LP, with Jay Matheson at The Jam Room in South Carolina, and if they ever go anywhere else to try to capture their sound I’d have to ask why. With seven cuts totaling 33 minutes play-time and fuzz-sludge blowouts a-plenty in “Facemint,” the blastbeaten “Blister” and the heads-down largesse-minded shove-off-the-cliff that is “Slither” at a whopping 2:48, Hollow transposes Conan-style shouted vocals on brash, thickened heavy, the bass in “Tunnel” and forward-charging leadoff “Crow” with its thrash-riffing hook is the source of the heft, but it’s not alone. Spacious thanks to echoes on the vocals, Hollow crushes just the same, and as the trio plunder toward the eight-minute “Soma” at the end, growing intense quickly out of a calmer intro jam and slamming their message home circa 3:40 with crashes that break to bass and guitar noise to establish the nod around which the ending will be based, all you can really do is look forward to the bludgeoning to come and be glad when it arrives. Don’t be fooled by their generic name, or the silly stoner rock art (which I’m not knocking; it being silly is part of the point). Bog Monkey bring together different styles in a way that’s thoughtful and make songs that sound like they just rose out of the water to fucking obliterate you. So go on. Be obliterated.
Punkish in its choruses like the title-track or opener “Sports,” the four-song Dead Nature EP from South Africa’s The Man Motels is the latest in a string of short releases and singles going back to their 2018 full-length, Quit Looking at Me!, and they temper the urgency of their speediest parts with grunge-style melody and instrumental twists. Bass and drums at the base of “Young Father” set up the sub-three-minute closer as purely punk, but sure enough the guitar kicks in coming out of the verse and one can hear the Nirvana effect before it drops out again. Whether it’s a common older-school hardcore influence, I don’t know, but “Sports” and “Young Father” remind of a rawer Fu Manchu with their focus on structure, but “The Fever” is heavier indie rock and culminates in a tonally satisfying apex before cutting back to the main riff that’s led the way for… oh, about three minutes or so. All told, The Man Motels are done in 15 minutes, but they pack a fair amount into that time and they named the release after its catchiest installment, so there. Maybe not the kind of thing I’d always reach for in my own listening habits, but I’m not about to rag on a band for being good at what they do or showcasing their material with the kind of energy The Man Motels put into Dead Nature.
With a couple short(er) outings to their credit, Bayonne, New Jersey, three-piece Pyre Fyre present seven songs in the 18 minutes of their self-titled, which just might be enough to make it a full-length. Hear me out. They start raw with “Hypnotize,” more of a song than an intro, punkish and the shortest piece at 1:22. From there, the Melvins meet Earthride on “Flood Zone” and the range of shenanigans is unveiled. Produced by drummer/noisemaker Mike Montemarano, with Dylan Wheeler on guitar, Dan Kirwan on bass and vocals from all three in its hithers and yons, it is a barebones sound across the board, but Pyre Fyre give a sense of digging in despite that, with the echo-laced “Wyld Ryde” doled out like garage thrash, while “Dungeon Duster/Ice Storm” sounds like it was recorded in two different sessions and maybe it was and screw you if that matters, “Don’t Drink the Water” hits the brakes and dooms out with stoner-drawl vocals later, “Arachnophobia” dips into a darker, somehow more metal, mood, and the fuzzy “Cordyceps” ends with swagger and noise alike in just under two and a half minutes. All of this is done without pretense, without the band pausing to celebrate themselves or what they just accomplished. They get in, kick ass, get out again. You don’t want to call it an album? Fine. I respectfully disagree, but we can still be friends. What, you thought because it was the internet I was going to tell you to screw off? Come on now.
Posted in Whathaveyou on June 15th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Now with even more beard, Atlanta three-piece Hot Ram will do a solid weekender run around their return appearance at the Maryland Doom Fest, slated for Sunday, June 25. Between that and the several live shows booked for August and September in their home state of Georgia, the trio will look to record three follow-up to 2021’s Electric Medicine (review here), which will also be their first release with drummer Brian Ricks pounding away behind. Ricks has played with Order of the Owl, and the new album will reportedly be tracked by Matt Washburn, who produced Mastodon‘s Lifesblood once upon a time, so if you’re already thinking heavy, you might ahead and think heavier just to be safe.
Also note the date supporting UK troupe Dunes as that band make their initial incursion on US terrain to play Desertfest New York in September. By then it’s entirely likely that Hot Ram‘s next full-length will be finished, and if not released, then likely on the way. Cool things to come, in any case.
The band was kind enough to send the following down the PR wire:
HOT RAM – The Road to Doom
Atlanta’s HOT RAM announce “The Road To Doom” , an excellent weekend run to this year’s Maryland Doom Fest.
After playing last year’s Maryland Doom Fest for the first time, they are returning this year to play the mainstage this year at Cafe 611 on Sunday June 25th. For this year’s show they have an excellent set of show’s for a small run up the Carolina’s, on the way to Frederick. For this year’s “The Road To Doom” run, they start off at Greenville SC’s Ground Zero w/ Witchpit, Auralayer and Black River Rebels, and then shoot up to Fleetwoods in Asheville, NC to play with Mean Green (Bongfoot just dropped off this show) and The Beard Cult.
This run begins an exciting summer and fall for the Atlanta band. With the addition of new drummer Brian Ricks (Ape Vermin, Order of the Owl) in fall of 2022, the band has been super busy with a flurry of songwriting and playing show’s opening for Caustic Casanova, Thunderchief, Witchpit, Wyndrider and were scheduled to debut with Brian at the inaugural Snowblind Festival w/ High on Fire and C.O.C., but had to cancel due to the death of founding member Billy Konkel’s mother.
In July, they will start recording their next album, the follow up to The Swamp Records 2022 “Electric Medicine ”, with Matt Washburn (Mastodon) in the mountains of North Georgia, and follow that up with three august shows. One at the Flicker Theater in Athens’s GA for a Shadebest Records show, then play the second annual “In the Pit ” Festival in Atlanta, and then trek up to Gainesville GA, to play the new venue “The Black Strap ”. And for September 18th a show at Atlanta’s The EARL with Dunes and Red Beard Wall.
A full list of tour dates can be found below:
“The Road to Doom” 6/23 Greenville, SC @ Ground Zero 6/24 Asheville, NC @ Fleetwoods 6/25 Frederick, MD @ Cafe611 (Maryland Doomfest) 8/3 Athens, GA @ Flicker Theater 8/11 Atlanta, GA @ Inner Space “In the Pit 2” 8/19 Gainesville, GA @ The Black Strap 9/18 Atlanta, GA@ The EARL
HOT RAM: Billy Konkel-Guitar/Vocals Dan Giampietro-Bass Brian Ricks-Drums
Posted in Whathaveyou on April 28th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
So this came out last week. Originally released in 2007, Sins was the debut album from Atlanta-based post-metallers Irreversible, and its new edition has seen release through Dipterid Records. Neat, right? Sure. That’s pretty much the whole story. Oh, there’s a video and they’re playing with Godflesh, but basically it’s a band putting out a record they put out 16 years ago.
The shape of their genre has changed in that time, naturally, but Sins fits well in the current sphere of atmospheric sludge and heavy crunch exploration. The five-piece (remember having four friends? I don’t) rage through the two minutes of “Blackness That Spread,” cavern-echo on the vocals and shove in the rhythm to follow the more lurching opener “Tambora” — if you’re looking for the “Stones From the Sky” riff necessary for all post-metal, it’s in there — and I’m pretty sure they use a jet engine for a transition, so that’s a nice touch as well. The full dynamic range would seem to be on display in “Iblis,” however, as the ambient beginning leads to claustrophobic crush later, melody spreading out in a way that makes me think at least one of these dudes was in a metalcore band in the early ’00s. They were probably 10 at the time. So be it.
In any case, usually I have some angle here, but not really. Just a cool record that I hadn’t heard before that’s available again. If you want to dig into the full thing, it’s below via Bandcamp, and the video’s down there too if you’re just looking to dip toes. No judgment either way. Enjoy:
IRREVERSIBLE RELEASE SINS FOR THE FIRST TIME ON VINYL, ANNOUNCE SHOW WITH GODFLESH
Atlanta-based post-metal band, Irreversible released one of their most well-known albums, SINS, on vinyl for the first time on Thursday, April 20 via Dipterid Records.
While the album is relatively esoteric, the audience is connected by its dense and heavy riffs, moody and atmospheric electronics, hypnotic rhythms, and emotionally resonant vocals/lyrics. Each side of the double LP seamlessly blends cryptic, dusty ambiance; sweeping waves of post-metal grandeur; textual electronic experimentation; psychedelic flourishes; and pummeling explosions of post-hardcore—all into a singular cinematic journey.
Irreversible consists of Billy Henis on electronics/vocals, CJ Ridings on bass, Jackob Franklin on guitar/vocals, JJ Hodge on guitar/vocals, and Zachary Richards on drums. Over the years they’ve played shows with Red Sparowes and Municipal Waste, and will open up for Godflesh on Saturday, July 1, at Terminal West in Atlanta, Georgia (Johnny Dang from O’Brother/HISSELF will be filling in on guitar). Additional tour dates will be announced soon.
“This whole experience has felt like a dream. We had always envisioned SINS as a double LP, from the writing, tracklist, down to the art. But after 15 years we had truly given up hope of that ever becoming a reality. Dipterid Records reaching out to see if we would be interested was really a turning point. Several of us hadn’t spoken in years and we had a lot of work to do to come back together. But as soon as we did the spark was totally back, and gathering our larger group of collaborators around the project has been amazing. The video for ‘Blackness That Spread” is such a great encapsulation of that. They were able to fuse old footage from the original era, along with clips from some of the films that inspired SINS and our vibe in general. Speakeasy Promotions has been our savior multiple times, so when they reached out to offer us the Godflesh show, we knew we couldn’t say no. Working with CJ again, and Johnny Dang from O’Brother/HISSELF has me especially excited because I think this lineup is going to bring a very special energy to these songs.” – Billy Henis
Last day. Maybe I’m supposed to have some grand reflection as we hit 100 of 100 records for the Quarterly Review, but I’ll spare you. I’ve put a few records from the bunch on year-end lists, enjoyed a lot of music, wondered why a few people got in touch with me in the first place, and generally plotzed through to the best of my ability. Thanks as always to The Patient Mrs., through whom all things are possible, for facilitation.
And thank you for reading. I hope you’ve managed to find something killer in all this, but if not, there’s still today to go, so you’ve got time.
Next QR is probably early October, and you know what? I’ve already got records lined up for it. How insane is that?
Quarterly Review #91-100:
Jo Quail, The Cartographer
To list the personnel involved in Jo Quail‘s Roadburn-commissioned five-movement work The Cartographer would consume the rest of this review, so I won’t, but the London electric cellist is at the center of an orchestral experiment the stated purpose of which is to find the place where classical and heavy musics meet. Percussion thuds, there’s piano and electric violin and a whole bunch of trombones, and whatever that is making the depth-charge thud underneath “Movement 2,” some voices and narration at the start by Alice Krige, who once played the Borg Queen among many other roles. Though Quail composed The Cartographer for Roadburn — originally in 2020 — the recording isn’t captured on that stage, but is a studio LP, which lets each headphone-worthy nuance and tiny flash of this or that shine through. So is it heavy? Not really in any traditional sense, but of course that’s the point. Is SunnO))) heavy? Sure. It’s less about conforming to given notions of genre characteristics than bringing new ideas to them and saying this-can-be-that in the way that innovative art does, but heavy? Why the hell not? Think of it as mind-expansion, only classy.
An aptly named second full-length from Buenos Aires trio Experiencia Tibetana greatly solidifies the band’s approach, which of course itself is utterly fluid. Having brought in Gaston Saccoia on drums, vocals and other percussion alongside guitarist/vocalist Walter Fernandez and bassist Leandro Moreno Vila since their recorded-in-2014-released-in-2020 debut, Vol. I (review here), the band take the methodology of meditative exploration from that album and pare it down to four wholly expansive processions, resonant in their patience and earthy psychedelic ritualizing. Each side of the 48-minute LP is comprised of a shorter track and a longer, and they’re arranged for maximum immersion as one climbs a presumably Tibetan mountain, going up and coming back down with the longest material in the middle, the 16-minute pair “Ciudad de latahes” and “(Desde el) Limbo” running in hypnotic succession with minimalism, noise wash, chanting, percussive cacophony, dead space, bass fuzz, spoken word and nearly anything else they want at their disposal. With “El delito espiritual I” (8:18) and the maybe-eBow(?) ghost howls of “El delito espiritual II” (7:19) on either side, Vol. II charts a way forward for the trio as they move into unknown aural reaches.
People of the Black Circle, People of the Black Circle
Not quite like anything else, Athenian conjurors People of the Black Circle plunge deep into horror/fantasy atmospheres, referencing H.P. Lovecraft and Robert Howard within the five tracks of their nonetheless concise 34-minute/five-track self-titled debut. Weighted in tone and mood, almost garage-doom in its production, the synth-backing of “Cimmeria” unfolds after the outward crunch of leadoff “Alchemy of Sorrow” — like Euro doom dramaturge transposed onto a bed of ’80s synths with Om-style bass — and from centerpiece “The Ghoul and the Seraph (Ghoul’s Song II)” through the bookending choral figures and either sampled or synthesized horns over the resolute chug of “Nyarlathotep” and more straight-ahead slow-motion push of closer “Ghosts in Agartha,” which swirls out a highlight solo after a wailing verse lets go and seems to drift away after its payoff for the album as an entirety. While in concept, People of the Black Circle‘s aesthetic isn’t necessarily anything new, there’s no denying the boundaries of dungeon synth and horror/garage doom are being transcended here, and that mixture feels like it’s being given a fresh perspective in these songs, even if the thematic is familiar. A mix of new and old, then? Maybe, but the new wins out decisively. In the parlance of our times, “following.”
It always seems to be a full moon when Black Capricorn are playing, regardless of actual cloud cover or phase. The Sardinian trio of guitarist/vocalist Fabrizio Monni (also production; also in Ascia), bassist Virginia Pras and drummer Rachela Piras offer an awaited follow-up to their 2019 Solstice EP (discussed here). Though it’s their fifth full-length overall, it’s the second with this lineup of the band (first through Majestic Mountain), and it comes packed with references like the doomly “Worshipping the Bizarre Reverend” and “Snake of the Wizard” as distorted, cultish and willfully strange vibes persist across its 44-minute span. Doom. Even the out-there centerpiece kinda-interlude “Godsnake Djamballah” and the feedback-laced lurch-march of the nine-minute “Witch of Endor” have a cauldron-psych vibe coinciding with the largely riff-driven material, though, and it’s the differences between the songs that ultimately bring them together, closer “Uddadhaddar” going full-on ritualist with percussion and drone and chanting vocals as if to underscore the point. It’s been five years since they released Omega (review here), their most recent LP, and Cult of Blood wholly justifies the wait.
The Danish title Skyggekæmper translates to English as “shadow fighter,” and if punk-informed heavy rocking Aarhus three-piece SABOTØR mean it in a political context, then fair enough. I speak no Danish, but their past work and titles here like “2040-Planen” — seemingly a reference to Denmark’s clean energy initiative — the stomping, funky “Ro På, Danmark!” (‘calm down, Denmark’) and even the suitably over-the-top “King Diamond” seem to have speaking about Danishness (Danedom?) as an active element. Speaking of “active,” the energy throughout the nine-song/49-minute span of the record is palpable, and while they’re thoroughly in the post-Truckfighters fuzz rock dominion tonally, the slowdowns of “Edderkoppemor” and the closing title-track hit the brakes at least here and there in their longer runtimes and expand on the thrust of the earlier “Oprør!” and “Arbejde Gør Fri,” the start-stop riffing of which seems as much call to dance as a call to action — though, again, I say that as someone without any actual idea if it’s the latter — making the entire listening experience richer on the whole while remaining accessible despite linguistic or any other barriers to entry that might be perceived. To put it another way, you don’t have to be up on current issues facing Denmark to enjoy the songs, and if they make you want to be afterward, so much the better.
Vocalist/rhythm guitarist Van Bassman, lead guitarist/backing vocalist Benjamin J. Davidow and bassist/backing vocalist/percussionist Charles Wiles are The Buzzards of Fuzz. I’m not sure who that leaves as drummer on the Atlanta outfit’s self-titled Sept. 2021 debut LP — could be producer/engineer Kristofer Sampson, Paul Stephens and/or Nick Ogawa, who are all credited with “additional instrumentation” — and it could be nobody if they’re programmed, but one way or the other, The Buzzards of Fuzz sure sound like a complete band, from the trippin’-on-QOTSA vibe of “Tarantulove” and “Desert Drivin’ (No Radio)” (though actually it’s Kyuss alluded to in the lyrics of the latter) to the more languid psych pastoralia of “All in Your Head” and the spacious two minutes of “Burned My Tongue on the Sun,” the purposeful-feeling twist into Nirvana of “Mostly Harmless” and the nod to prior single “Lonely in Space” that is finale “Lonely in Space (Slight Return).” Sleek grooves, tight, hooky songwriting and at times a languid spirit that comes through no matter how fast they’re playing give The Buzzards of Fuzz, the album, a consistent mood across the 11 songs and 32 minutes that allows the delivery to play that much more of a role in making short pieces feel expansive.
Crawl into Temple of Void‘s deathly depths and you may find yourself duly consumed. Their style is less outright doom than it used to be, but the Detroit extremist five-piece nonetheless temper their bludgeoning with a resilient amount of groove, and even at their fastest in songs like “Hex, Curse & Conjuration” and some of the more plundering moments in “A Sequence of Rot” just prior, the weight behind their aural violence remains a major factor. The keys in “Deathtouch,” which follows down-you-go opener “Behind the Eye” and leads into “Engulfed” branches out the band’s sound with keyboards (or guitar-as-keyboards, anyway) and a wider breadth of atmosphere than they’ve enjoyed previously — “Engulfed” seems to touch on Type O Negative-style tonality as it chugs into its midsection — and the concluding “Dissolution” introduces a quieter, entirely-clean approach for just under three key-string-laced minutes that Temple of Void have legitimately never shown before. Seems doubtful they’ll take that as far as Opeth in putting out Damnation — though that’s just crazy enough to work — but it shows that as Temple of Void move toward the 10-year mark, their progression has not abated whatsoever. And they still kill, so no worries there.
Psych jazz, instrumental save for some found voice samples which, if you were listening on headphones out in the wild, say, might have you wondering if you’re missing the announcement for your train at the station. Based in Thessaloniki, Greece, Anomalos Kosmos brim with experimentalist urgency on the half-hour of Mornin Loopaz, the seven tracks of which are titled playing off the days of the week — “Meinday,” “Chooseday,” “Whensday,” etc. — but which embark each on their own explorations of the outer reaches of far out. The longest of the bunch is “Thirstday” at just over five minutes, and at 30 minutes one could hardly accuse them of overstaying their welcome. Instead, the shimmering tone, fluid tempos and unpredictable nature of their style make for a thrilling listen, “Thirstday” remaining vital even as it spaces out and “Friedday” picking up directly from there with a ready sense of relief. They spend the weekend krautrocking in “Shatterday” and managing to squeeze a drum solo in before the rushing Mediterranean-proggy end of “Sinday,” the crowd noise that follows leaving one wondering if there aren’t more subversive messages being delivered beneath the heady exterior. In any case, this is a band from a place where the sun shines brightly, and the music stands as proof. Get weird and enjoy.
This third full-length from Quebec-based doom outfit Cauchemar brings the band past their 15th anniversary and makes a bed for itself in traditionalist metallurgy, running currents of NWOBHM running through opener “Jour de colère” and “Rouge sang” while “Danger de nuit” takes a more hard rock approach and the penultimate roller “Volcan” feels more thoroughly Sabbathian. With eight songs presumably arranged four per vinyl side, there’s a feeling of symmetry as “Le tombeau de l’aube” tempts Motörhead demons and answers back with wilful contradiction the late-’70s/early-’80s groove that comes late in “Notre-Dame-sous-Terre.” Closer “La sorcière” tolls its bells presumably for thee as the lead guitar looks toward Pentagram and vocalist Annick Giroux smoothly layers in harmony lines before the church organ carries the way out. Classic in its overarching intentions, the songs nonetheless belong to Cauchemar exclusively, and speak to the dead with a vibrancy that avoids the trappings of cultism while working to some of its strengths in atmosphere, sounding oldschool without being tired, retro or any more derivative than it wants to be. No argument here, it’s metal for rockers, doom for doomers, riffs for the converted or those willing to be. I haven’t looked to see if they have patches yet, but I’d buy one if they do.
If you ever wanted to hear Weedeater or Dopethrone hand you your ass with Sons of Otis-worthy tones, Seum‘s Blueberry Cash has your back. The no-guitar-all-bass-and-drums-and-screams Montreal three-piece are just as crusty and weedian as you like, and in “Blueberry Cash,” “John Flag” and the seven-minute “Hairy Muff,” they reinforce sludge extremity with all that extra low end as if to remind the universe where the idea of music being heavy in the first place comes from. Grooves are vital and deathly, produced with just enough clarity to come through laced with what feels like extra nastiness, and “John Flag”‘s blues verse opens into a chasm of a chorus, waiting with sharpened teeth. Rounding out, “Hairy Muff” is a take on a song by vocalist Gaspar‘s prior band, Lord Humungus, and it’s drawn out into a plodding homage to liberation, pubes and the ability of sludge to feel like it’s got its hands on either side of your face and is pressing them together as hard as it can. These guys are a treasure, I mean that, and I don’t care what genre you want to tag it as being or how brutal and skinpeeling they want to make it, something with this much fuckall will always be punk rock in my mind.
