Posted in Whathaveyou on April 30th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
If you’ve been waiting for Melbourne psych rockers Khan to announce European tour dates since they started to be confirmed for Desertfest in London and Berlin and Sonic Whip in the Netherlands, well, yeah, me too. There indeed will be a few club shows around those fest appearances and one in Belgium at the Dunk!festival, but not a ton, and Khan are accordingly teasing more to come “later in the year.”
When Khan traveled to Europe in 2023 supporting their then-new album, Creatures, reveling in an excited reception to the album and the band’s heavy wash more generally, it was during the Fall festival season. I wouldn’t expect much to change there, but you never know — I’ve seen a couple tours for November and December as booking companies look at opening up late-year calendar nights for club shows. I’m curious if it’ll work, but it’ll be a few years before you could know either way. And that doesn’t tell you when Khan will actually hit Europe for the second time this year — the truth is I don’t know and am just speculating — but maybe if you’re the type who likes to travel for shows and don’t really have anything lined up yet for the Fall it’s one to keep an eye on. Hypothetically.
From socials:
🚨Europe 2025 Tour – Part 1 dates!!🚨
Yes, that means there’ll be more later in the year but we can’t announce all of them yet sorry!
May 15 – Lippstadt – Zum Güterbahnhof Khan @bahnhofskultLive | Do.15.05.2025 | Zum Güterbahnhof | Lippstadt
May 16 – Nijmegen – Sonic Whip Sonic Whip 2025
May 18 – London – Desertfest London Desertfest London 2025
May 23 – Berlin – Desertfest Berlin DESERTFEST BERLIN 2025 w/ THE HELLACOPTERS + DINOSAUR JR + ELDER + EYEHATEGOD + SLOMOSA & MANY MORE!
May 24 – Prague – Club Subzero 🌓 KHAN [AUS] + ELBE [CZ] + GORDON COLE [CZ]âš«
May 25 – Budapest – Robot *Event link coming*
May 26 – Vienna – Arena Khan (aus) + Dogs vs Gods (aut) I Arena Wien
Posted in Reviews on April 14th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Welcome back to the Quarterly Review. Just because it’s a new week, I’ll say again the idea here is to review 10 releases — albums, EPs, the odd single if I feel like there’s enough to say about it — per day across some span of days. In this case, the Quarterly Review goes to 70. Across Monday to Friday last week, 50 new, older and upcoming offerings were written up and today and tomorrow it’s time to wrap it up. I fly out to Roadburn on Wednesday.
Accordingly, you’ll pardon if I spare the “how was your weekend?”-type filler and jump right in instead. Let’s. Go.
Quarterly Review #51-60:
Megaritual, Recursion
Last heard from in 2017, exploratory Australian psychedelic solo outfit Megaritual — most often styled all-lowercase: megaritual — returns with the aptly-titled Recursion, as multi-instrumentalist, vocalist and producer Dale Paul Walker taps expansive kosmiche progressivisim across nine songs and 42 minutes. If you told me these tracks, which feel streamlined compared to the longer-form work Walker was doing circa 2017, had been coming together since that time, the depth of the arrangements and the way each cut comes across as its own microcosm within the greater whole bears that out, be it the winding wisps of “Tres Son Multitud” or the swaying echoey bliss of later highlight “The Jantar Mantar.” I don’t know if that’s the case or it isn’t, but the color in this music alone makes it one of the best records I’ve heard in 2025, and I can’t get away from thinking some of the melody and progressive aspects comes from metal like Opeth, so yeah. Basically, it’s all over the place and wonderful. Thanks for reading.
Even by the respective standards of the bands involved — and considering the output of Detroit grit-doomers Temple of the Fuzz Witch and Montreal sans-guitar scathemakers Seum to this point, it’s a significant standard — Conjuring is some nasty, nasty shit. Presented through Black Throne Productions with manic hand-drawn cover art that reminds of Midwestern pillsludge circa 2008, the 27-minute split outing brings three songs from each outfit, and maybe it’s the complementary way Seum‘s low-end picks up from the grueling, chugging, and finally rolling fare Temple of the Fuzz Witch provide, but both acts come through as resoundingly, willfully, righteously bleak. You know how at the dentist they let you pick your flavor of toothpaste? This is like that except surprise you just had all your teeth pulled. It only took half-an-hour, but now you need to figure out what to do with your dazed, gummy self. Good luck.
Uncle Woe offer two eight-minutes-each tracks on the new EP, Folded in Smoke, Soaked and Bound, as project founder/spearhead Rain Fice (in Canada) and collaborator Marc Whitworth (in Australia) bring atmosphere and grace to underlying plod. It’s something of a surprise when “One is Obliged” relatively-speaking solidifies at about five minutes in around vocal soar, which is an effective, emotional moment in a song that seems to be mourning even as it grows broader moving toward the finish. “Of Symptoms and Waves” impresses vocally as well, deep in the mix as the vocals are, but feels more about the darker prog metal-type stretch that unfolds from about the halfway point on. But what’s important to note is these plays on genre are filtered through Uncle Woe‘s own aesthetic vision, and so this short outing becomes both lush and raw for the obvious attention to its sonic details and the overarching melancholy that belongs so much to the band. A well-appreciated check-in.
I would not attempt to nor belittle the band’s accomplishments by trying to summarize 35 years of Negative Reaction in this space, but as the West-Virginia-by-way-of-Long-Island unit led by its inimitable principal/guitarist/vocalist Ken-E Bones mark this significant occasion, the collection Salvaged From the Kuiper Belt provides 16 decades-spanning tracks covering sundry eras of the band. I haven’t seen a liner, so I don’t even know the number of players involved here, but Bones has been through several incarnations of Negative Reaction at this point, so when “NOD” steamrollers and later pieces like “Mercy Killing” and the four-second highlight “Stick o’ Gum” are more barebones in their punksludge, it makes sense in context. Punk, psych, sludge, raw vocals — these have always been key ingredients to Negative Reaction‘s often-harsh take, and it’s a blend that’s let them endure beyond trend, reason, or human kindness. Congrats to Bones, whom I consider a friend of long-standing, and many more.
Given how many different looks Fomies present on Liminality, and how movement-based so much of it is between the uptempo proto-punk, krauty shuffle and general sense of push — not out of line with the psych of the modern age, but too weird not to be its own spin — it feels like mellower opener “The Onion Man” is its own thing at the front of the album; a mellower lead-in to put the listener in a more preferred mindset (on the band’s part) to enjoy what follows. This is artfully done, as is the aforementioned “what follows,” as the band thoughtfully boogie through the three-part “Colossus,” find a moment for frenetic fuzz via Gary Numan in “Neon Gloom,” make even the two-and-a-half-minute “Happiness Relay” a show of chemistry, finish in a like-minded tonal fullness with “Upheaval,” and engage with decades of motorik worship without losing themselves more than they want to in the going. At 51 minutes, Liminality is somewhat heady, but that’s inherent to the style as well, and the band’s penchant for adventure comes through smoothly alongside all that super-dug-in vibing.
Classic Boston DGAF heavy riff rock, and if you hear a good dose of hardcore in amid the swing and shove, The Long Wait‘s self-titled debut comes by it honestly. The five-piece of vocalist Glen Dudley (Wrecking Crew), guitarist Darryl Shepard (Kind, Milligram, Slapshot, etc.) and Steven Risteen (Slapshot), bassist Jaime Sciarappa (SSD, Slapshot) and drummer Mark McKay (Slapshot) plunder through nine cuts. Certainly elbows are out, but considering where they’re coming from, it’s not an overly aggressive sound. Hardcore dudes have been veering into heavier riffing à la “Uncharted Greed” or “FWM” for the last 35 years, so The Long Wait feels well in line with a tradition that some of these guys helped set in the first place as it revisits songs from 2023’s demo and expands outward from there, searching for and beginning to find its own interpretation of what “bullshit-free” means in terms of the band’s craft.
Since 2020, Miskolc, Hungary-based solo-band Babona have released three EPs, a couple singles and now two full-lengths, with Az Utolsó Választás Kora (‘the age of the last choice’) as the second album from multi-instrumentalist and producer Tamás Rózsa. Those with an appreciation for the particular kind of crunch Eastern Europe brings to heavy rock will find the eight-tracker a delight in the start-stops of “2/3” and the vocals-are-sampled-crying-and-laughing “A Rendszer Rothadása,” which digs into its central riff with suitable verve. The later “KormányalakÃtás” hints at psych — something Rózsa has fostered going back to 2020 with Ottlakán, from whom Babona seems to have sprung — and the album isn’t without humor as a crowing rooster snaps the listener out of that song’s trance in the transition to the ambient post-rocker “Frakció,” but when it’s time to get to business, Rózsa caps with “Pártatlan” as a grim, sludgy lumber that holds its foreboding mood even into its own comedown. That’s not the first time Az Utolsó Választás Kora proves deceptively immersive.
Sit tight, because it’s about to get pretty genre-nerdy. Sutras, the Washington D.C.-based two-piece of Tristan Welch (vocals/guitar) and Frederick Ashworth (drums/bass) play music that is psychedelic and heavy, but with a strong foundation specifically in post-hardcore. Their term for it is ‘Dharma punk,’ which is enough to make me wonder if there’s a krishna-core root here, but either way, The Crisis of Existence feels both emotive and ethereal as the duo bring together airy guitar and rhythmic urgency, raw, sometimes gang-shouted vocals, and arrangements that feel fluid whether it’s the rushing post-punk (yeah, I know: so much ‘post-‘; I told you to sit tight) of “Racing Sundown” or the denser push of “Bloom Watch” or the swing brought to that march in “Working Class Devotion.” They cap the 19-minute EP with posi-vibes in “Being Nobody, Going Nowhere,” which provides one last chance for their head-scratching-on-paper sound to absolutely, totally work, as it does. The real triumph here, fists in the air and all that, is that it sounds organic.
The story of Sleeping in Samsara‘s self-titled two-songer as per Christian Peters (formerly Samsara Blues Experiment, currently Fuzz Sagrado, etc.) is that in 2023, My Sleeping Karma drummer Steffen Weigand reached out with an interest in collaborating as part of a solo-project Weigand was developing. Weigandpassed away in June 2023, and “Twilight Again” and “Downtime,” with underlying basic tracks from Weigand in drums, keys/synth, and rhythm guitar, and Peters adding lead guitar, vocals, bass in the latter, the songs are unsurprising in their cohesion only when one considers the fluidity wrought by both parties in their respective outfits, and though the loss of Weigand of course lends a bittersweet cast, that this material has seen the light of day at all feels like a tribute to his life and cretive drive.
Good first day yesterday. Good second day today. I’ve been doing Quarterly Reviews for over a decade now, and I’ve kind of learned over time the kind of thing I should be writing about. It might be a record that has a ton of hype or one that has none, and it might be any number of styles — I also like to sneak some stuff in here that doesn’t ‘fit’ once in a while — but in my mind the standard is, “is this something I’ll want to have heard and/or written about later?”
For all the terrors of our age, the glut of good music coming out means there’s more than ever I want to write about, and in a weird way, I look forward to Quarterly Reviews as a way for me to dig in and get caught up a bit. I’ve already been blindsided this QR and it’s the second day. I call that a win.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
Kal-El, Astral Voyager Vol. 1
There are few acts the world over who so succintly summarize so much of the appeal of modern heavy rock. Norway’s Kal-El offer big riffs, big hooks, big melodies, songwriting, and still manage heavy-mellow vibes thanks to an ongoing cosmic thematic that brings desert rock methods to more ethereal places. Is “Cloud Walker” the best song they’ve yet written? It’s on the list for sure, but don’t discount nine-minute opener/longest track (immediate points) “Astral Voyager” or the hey-that’s-a-Star-Trek-reference “Dilithium” with its dug-in low-distortion verses and the Captain‘s vocal outreach. All along, it’s never quite felt like Kal-El were reshaping heavy, but as time passes and they unveil Astral Voyager Vol. 1 with immediate promise of a follow-up, it’s curious how much Kal-El and notions of ‘peak genre’ align. Those of you who proselytize for riffs: even before you get to riding that groove in “Cosmic Sailor,” Kal-El are primed for ambassadorship.
North Carolinian sludgethrowers Bronco take their name from their bassist/vocalist, who also goes by Bronco, and who in the 2010s cut a tone-worshiping generational swath through the Southern wing of the style as a member of Toke, proffering heavy riffs, harsh-throat vocals, and a disaffection that can only be called classic. With eight songs rolling out over 45 minutes, Bronco‘s Bronco picks up the thread where Toke left off with pieces like “Ride Eternal,” which crawls, or the declarative riffing of “Legion” (eerie guest vocals included amid all the pummel), or the closer “TONS,” which I’m going to assume isn’t titled after the Italian sludge-band, though if those guys wanted to put out a song called “Bronco” on their next record, they’d be well within their rights. A remarkably cohesive debut for something that’s so loudly telling you to fuck yourself. These guys’ll be opening for High on Fire in no time.
Although one wouldn’t listen to Santiago, Chile’s Ocultum and be likely to have “refined” top the list of impressions given by the raw, rot-coated sludge of their third album and Heavy Psych Sounds debut, Buena Muerte, the grim-leaning atmosphere, charge later in the title-track, cultish presentation and the atmosphere emergent both from guitar-wail and yelling interlude “Fortunato’s Fortune” and from the material that surrounds, whether that’s the title-track or the just-under-12-minute “Last Weed on Earth.” The record finds the three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Sebastián Bruna, bassist Pablo Cataldo and drummer Ricardo Robles dug in, stoned and malevolent. They’re not as over-the-top as many in cult rock, but one does get a sense of ceremony from “Last Weed on Earth” and subsequent capper “Emki’s Return” — the latter galloping in its first half and willfully devolved from there into avant noise — even if that’s more about the making of the songs than the performance of genre tropes.
The grunge crunch of “Running With Secrets” and the Cantrell-y acoustics of “Push” are barely the beginning of the story as regards Fidel A Go Go‘s meld of sounds, which ranges from the willfully desert rocking “Sandstorm” to the proggy “Lil Shit,” the transposed blues of “Rainy Days” and the penultimate “Psychedelicexistentialcrisisalidocious,” which is serene in its melody and troubling in the words, as one would hope, and while the moniker and the punny album title speak to shenanigans, the Brisbane four-piece offer a point of view both instrumentally and lyrically that is engaging and draws together the stylistic range. There’s little doubt left to whom “A Stench of Musk” and “Barely an Adversary” are about, but even that’s not the extent of the perspective resonant in these 11 songs. There’s enough fuzz here for desert heads, but Fidel A Go Go are broader in attitude and craft, and Diss Engaged makes a point of its artistic freedom.
Like their 2023 debut EP, Lady Cadaver, Tumble‘s second short offering, Lost in Light sees the trio of guitarist/vocalist Liam Deak, bassist Tarun Dawar and drummer Will Adams working with producer/engineer Ian Blurton (Ian Blurton’s Future Now, etc.) to hone and sharpen a classic, proto-metallic sound without seeing a dip in recording quality. As such, the five songs/20 minutes of Lost in Light are duly brash — looking at you, “Dead by Rumour” and the Radio Moscow-esque “The Less I Know” — but crisp in tone and execution. The mid-tempo “Sullen Slaves” picks up in its solo section later for a bit of boogie, and the slightly-slower metallic lurch of “Laid by Fear” sets up a contrast with the swinging closer “Wings of Gold” that makes the ending of the EP an absolute strut. They aren’t even asking a half-hour of your time, and the rewards are more than commensurate for getting down. They continue to be one to watch as they position themselves for a full-length debut in the next couple years.
Normally I might consider it a hindrance to have no clue what’s going on, but if you’ve never before encountered Italy/France semi-industrial duo Putan Club you might just find yourself in better position going into Filles d’Octobre as the avant garde radfem troupe unfurl a live set recorded at Portugal’s Amplifest, presumably in 2022. But if you don’t know it’s a live record, what’s coming musically, or that Filles d’Octobre is derived from their 2017 debut album, Filles de Mai, there’s a decent change your contextless self will be scrathing your head in wonder of just what’s going on with the bouncy lurch and maybe xylophone of “Filippino,” and that seems to suit Putan Club just fine. If you have to break something to remake it, Putan Club are set to the task of manifesting a rock and roll that is dangerous, new, unrepentantly socially critical, and ready to dance when you are. That they meet these significant ambitions head on shouldn’t be discounted. Not for everybody, but definitely for everybody who thinks they’ve heard it all.
The first live offering from Argentinian prog-heavy instrumentalists IAH follows behind the band’s most expansive studio LP to-date, 2023’s V (review here), and brings into emphasis the group’s dynamic. It’s not just about being able to make a part sound floaty or to make the part next to it crush, but the character of a piece like the 24-minute “Noboj pri Uaset” (which might be new) is as much about the journey undertaken in their builds and the smoothness of the shifts between parts. They dip back to their earlier going for “Sheut” at the start of the set and “Ourboros” and “Eclipsum” the latter of which closes, and the bass in “Sentado en el Borde de una Pregunta” is worth the price of admission alone, never mind as a complement to the extended progression of “Noboj pri Uaset,” which is something of the buried lede here. So be it. On stage or on record, IAH offer immersion unto themselves. A little more tonal edge as a result of the live recording doesn’t hurt that one bit.
Before the Dawn of Time is upwards of the seventh full-length from Swedish vintage-style heavy rockers Gin Lady, and in addition to seeing them make the jump from Kozmik Artifactz to Ripple Music, the sans-pretense 11-songer invents its own moment. It’s like the comedown era (from 1968-1974, roughly) happened, but happened differently. It’s another path to a heavy rock future. There’s ’70s vibes in “Tingens Sanna Natur” a-plenty, and if it’s boogie or push or hooky melodic wash you want, “Mulberry Bend” has you covered for that and then some, never mind the down-home strum of “Bliss on the Line” or the pastoral contemplation of “The Long Now,” as Gin Lady put a classy stamp of their own on classic aural ideologies, as what are no doubt hyperspecific keyboards make the production smooth and let “Ways to Cross the Sky” commune with Morricone while capper “You’re a Big Star” drops a melody that can really only be called “arena ready.” As it stands, it’ll probably go over killer at festivals across Europe.
Duly apocalyptic for being the band’s first full-length release since 2019, Adrift‘s fourth album, Dry Soil, elicits an overarching doom that makes its tonal claustrophobia all the more affecting. The long-running Madrid outfit offer six songs that veer between the contemplative and the caustic as throatrippers worthy of Enslaved add an element of the extreme to the post-metallic intensity of “Edge” and “Restart” in the record’s middle. There are heavy rock underpinnings — that is, somebody here still likes Sabbath — but Adrift are well at home in all the bludgeonry, and “Bonfire” finishes by tying black metal, sludge, noise and darkly thrashing metal together with a suitably severe ambience. Are they torching it at the end? Kind of, but just replace “it” with “everything” and you’ll have a better idea perhaps of where they’re coming from on the whole. But for regionalist discrimination, Adrift would’ve conquered Europe a long time ago.
Berlin trio Black Sadhu — guitarist/vocalist Max Lowry (also synth, effects), bassist Alex Glimm and drummer Martin Cederlund — employ atmosphere to a point of cinematics on their second full-length, Ashes of Aether, following up the post-doom wash of 2021 standalone single “Mindless Masses” with plays back and forth between full-heft nod and take-a-breather meanderings. This cuts momentum less than one might think as the keyboard and drone and sample of “Tumors of Light” lend experimentalist verve to “Descent,” the next of the nine-track outing’s more-complete-song songs, as the latter unfolds with a shine on the crash that continues to cut through the surrounding rumble as the procession unfurls. Patience, then. So long as you know the payoff is coming — and it is; looking at you, “Electric Death” — and don’t mind being stretched and contorted on a molecular level between here and there, you should be good to go.
Posted in Whathaveyou on March 27th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
You know how many of these they’re making? Well, probably not yet if you haven’t read the info below, but the answer is 60. Sixty.
That’d be fine if “Lakeland Storm” — the single song broken up across two sides of the notably limited collaborative 7″ from Melbourne weirdo-folky Trappist Afterland and New Zealand psych-folk experimentalist Lamp of the Universe — wasn’t so gosh darn encompassing, but it is, pulling from both sides of its component songwriter team, growing tripper in the A side as it plays out while easing on acoustic strum into a Mellotron-laced contemplation after its soft verses have subsided.
Look. I don’t know that either party will see this — I’m in touch with Craig LOTU sometimes about records and stuff but I wouldn’t presume either he or Roger from Trappist Afterland necessarily catch everything written about their projects — but I’ll say regardless that what comes through most from Lakeland Storm is potential. If I was the bigwig industry fatcat calling the shots on such things, I’d send them back into the studio to come up with six more songs plus a solo interlude from each of them, take the best four or five plus whatever other weirdo noises happened in the process and make an LP. I’m not in charge of that stuff, however. Mostly these days I do the dishes.
But let the potential here be your takeaway, and golly, I hope they do more. The full stream from Trappist Afterland‘s Bandcamp is below, as well as info on how to order if you’re feeling lucky:
Lamp Of The Universe & Trappist Afterland Lakeland Storm Transluscent Red Vinyl 7″ Lathe Cut 60 Copies (Future Grave FG 32) PREORDER
It a delight to announce this superb collaboration from Lamp Of The Universe and Trappist Afterland.
This one had been on the cards for a while and I was really excited to hear the finished results which are really superb. Here we have one long psychedlically enhanced folk track which perfectly blends both artists’ stylings. The track has been split into two parts to fit onto a 7″ 45rpm lathe cut.
Cut onto transluscent red vinyl in an edition of 60 numbered copies. The cover image has a old photograph of Anzacs in the trenches in Gallipoli. Covers printed onto cream 300gsm hammered finish card. Lathes cut by Phil Macy @ 345 RPM. ONE COPY PER PERSON PLEASE. ++++THIS IS A PREORDER WHICH WILL BE HOPEFULLY POSTED/SHIPPED OUT TOWARDS THE END OF APRIL.
Cost as follows: The lathe cut costs £15.00 plus the following additional postage/shipping cost: UK = £3.00 Europe = £5.50 GBP USA & ROW = £7.50 GBP Australia = £8.75 GBP Paypal to roger.linney@btinternet.com PLEASE CONTACT ME BEFORE ORDERING
Head over to the Reverb Worship group to pre-order.
Posted in Whathaveyou on March 5th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
I wanna crawl inside the bright melody of Turtle Skull‘s “Apathy” and just wait for this Northern Hemisphere winter to end. The Australian four-piece sound ready for export on the early singles from their upcoming third (I think?) full-length, Being Here, and if the title puts you in a time and place — here — that’s the idea. The record was tracked mostly live and follows 2020’s Monoliths (review here), which was a gem from which they seem to have nonetheless stepped forward in composition and style. “Apathy” has a little Dead Meadow to it, but “Into the Sun” is wetter psych, with a touch of garage rock that gives some push to its six-minute course. “Heavy as Hell,” which was issued as a standalone single in Feb. 2024, fits the bill, and is no less in the harmonies throughout than its organ-laed second-half culmination.
It sounds like the record’s gonna fucking rule, and so here’s a ton of PR wire information about it, the preorder links, the likewise-rad cover art and the Bandcamp player at the bottom as always.
Dig into this and I don’t think you’ll regret it:
Neo-Psych/ Doom Rockers TURTLE SKULL Announce New Album Being Here. New Single Into The Sun Streaming.
Art As Catharsis and Copper Feast Records are proud to announce Turtle Skull’s upcoming record, Being Here, a lush and gritty exploration of neo-psych with indie and alt-pop sensibility, out May 23, 2025.
With Being Here, Turtle Skull have evolved. A new lineup. A fresh approach. A leap forward. While the album builds on the sonic foundations of 2020’s Monoliths, it’s a different beast. Still hefty and considered but more immediate. Made for the moment. A record that values gut instinct over perfection.
Tracked live at NoWave in Mullumbimby, with a paired-back approach to studio tweaking, Being Here captures that ‘lightning in a bottle’ energy that happens when a band fully locks in. New member Ally Gradon’s synths inject fresh energy, swirling around meaty riffs and driving rhythms. It’s expansive yet raw, drawing from the likes of Black Moth Super Rainbow, Idles and Cause Sui with a nod to the cinematic sprawl of Spiritualized and The Flaming Lips. A heavy, heady blend of melody and atmosphere.
The new single from the release, Into the Sun, exemplifies this new ethos, centering poignant musings amid a shimmering wash of synth and surging guitar.
“Into the Sun was a collection of riffs I had from years ago that Ally had always favoured”, tells drummer Charlie Gradon. “We brought it to the group and it quickly fleshed itself out. The lyrics came after a particularly rowdy yet fulfilling wedding that some of us went to. It’s about being stuck and needing to be with your people. The day to day mundane vs the hyper connected and profound, and how both are equally important.
“Being Here was much more about good songs that we had freshly written being captured live in the moment” says Gradon. “No click, no excessive layering, no studio trickery. The only thing that wasn’t captured live was the vocals. Choosing to self-produce and mix the album gave us the chance to preserve our initial vision, even if it nearly did kill me.”
The album puts a spotlight on songwriting, covering weighty subject matter, from the life-force drain of social media to the relentless march of time. But it does so with a call to stay connected, empathetic and grounded. In this way, Being Here isn’t just an album title. It’s a philosophy. A mantra. A demand to be fully present, to embrace the chaos, the beauty, the weight of it all.
No strangers to sold-out headline shows across Sydney and Melbourne, Turtle Skull have a reputation for epic live performances. They’ve graced festival stages at Camp A Low Hum (NZ), The Gumball (NSW), Vivid (NSW) and Ninchfest (VIC)and supported the likes of Frankie and the Witch Fingers (USA), Earthless (USA) and Stonefield.
With Being Here set for release, the band is gearing up for another wave of touring, kicking off with a 7 March show at the Bergy Bandroom in Melbourne as part of the Brunswick Music Festival ahead of rumoured festival appearances later in the year. Keep your eyes peeled for gig announcements and make sure to catch one of Australia’s most electrifying live acts.
Turtle Skull’s new record, Being Here, is out on Art As Catharsis (AUS/NZ) and Copper Feast Records (UK/EU) on 23 May 2025.
All songs written by Turtle Skull Lyrics by Charlie Gradon and Dean McLeod
Recorded by Julian Abbott at Nowave Studio and Charlie Gradon at his Crabbes Creek studio Mixed by Charlie Gradon Mastered by Michael Lynch Produced by Charlie Gradon and Dean McLeod
Artwork by Graham Yarrington Graphic Design by Jim Grimwade
Turtle Skull is: Julian Frese – Bass guitar Ally Gradon – Vocals, synths Charlie Gradon – Vocals, drums Dean McLeod – Vocals, guitars
Sydney, Australia, sludge rock bruisers Amammoth will release their second album, Distant Skies and the Ocean Flies, on March 21, in continued cooperation with Electric Valley Records. Guess what? They’re heavy.
I know, with a name like Amammoth, somehow that’s not at all shocking even though with the ‘a’- prefix, there’s a suggestion of anti-mammoth. Like, in protest of the mammoth. Fuck this mammoth! I shall be the opposite! An amammoth!, and so on. (And yeah, I know I said as much when I reviewed The Fire Above in 2021.) But no, in fact Amammoth have way more in common in terms of sonic largesse with a mammoth than an amammoth, which isn’t a thing that ever existed so far as I know but if it did would surely cower beneath the grunt, roll and flourish of “Among Us” (video premiering below), the nine-minute post-intro opener and longest track on Distant Skies and the Ocean Flies. Drawing its expanse from sludge and doom and maybe even a little death metal in there somewhere of the European strain, pushing into psychedelia with organ and keys later on so that while Scott Fisher is gutting out vocals Kirk Windstein-style, what accompanies is trippier riffing (plus a bit of triangle, I think? maybe keyboard-triangle?) than one might necessarily expect. But that’s what one gets for having expectations in the first place. Gotta let that go. Zen and crushing riffs.
So there they are, Fisher, bassist Warwick Poulton (making his first appearance) and drummer Scott Wilson, hammering away at your cortex after setting an atmos-sludge course in the aptly-titled “Intro” like someone put an organ behind Souls at Zero, but “Among Us” isn’t post-metallic in its lumber necessarily, and its riffing leans more to Sleep than Neurosis, if we want to keep the comparisons to Jason Roeder bands. There’s something oldschool about the largely unipolar vocals — it’s gruff shouts and such, as noted, not screams for the most part, but not entirely “clean” singing either — like in the early ’90s when you could just get away with barking for an entire record; for what it’s worth, in the 40 minutes and eight songs of Distant Skies and the Ocean Flies, there’s enough variation in what Amammoth do around their central purpose in largesse that nothing feels like it’s missing.
“Among Us” caps with repetitions of “Walk among us” and a few homeward slams to make the point before they rumble to the finish, “Chosen” picking up almost immediately with its own muted crashes on the way to reveling in its combination of swinging drums and slogging riffs; the shift from what would be the closer on a lot of records (and is here the opener but for “Intro”) into the more-than-three-minutes-shorter track that follows letting Amammoth cast an open impression and then strip it down for a more direct attack.
To wit, “Chosen,” “So High So Numb” and the pointedly primordial “Sink or Swim” are positioned to feel comparatively immediate regardless of their actual tempos, and Amammoth bask in the lumbering reaches their tonal worship lets them conjure. And “Sink or Swim” coming through as so much of an epitome in this regard means “Satellite,” which follows, is a well-timed change.
Amid more Crowbar-esque seething and declarative steamrolling, the organ returns — joining the fray in a brazenly classic-heavy-rock manner that I can’t help but feel like would make Oppu from Amorphis/Octoploid smile in this context — and deftly calls back to “Among Us” before hitting its culmination and giving over to the penultimate “Ashes Remain,” which might be the rawest and angriest of the eight inclusions, and which serves as the whole-album crescendo accordingly before the thud-backed drone and noisemaking of “Interstitial” reinforce the atmospheric depth for three minutes on the band’s way out.
For a record that’s so much about throwing elbows, some of them at your larynx (heads up on that), the movement across Distant Skies and the Ocean Flies is remarkably easy. I guess the degree of that will be somewhat subject to one’s own tolerance for harder-edged fare, rough vocals, and so on, but Amammoth are perhaps not as monolithic in their approach as they would have you believe. In that case, “Among Us” represents the totality of Distant Skies and the Ocean Flies well, summarizing a lot of what the tracks that follow have on offer without giving away everything at the album’s outset.
The video has a flashing lights warning, and it comes up more later in the clip but they’re not kidding. More info follows from the PR wire below.
Please enjoy:
Amammoth, “Among Us” video premiere
Amammoth on “Among Us”:
Our second single “Among Us” is a B-grade psychedelic, sci-fi adventure, kind of like ET on acid.
Sydney’s sludgiest stoner outfit Amammoth’s trippy sonic sensibilities and intellectually vitriolic lyrical approach blur the boundaries between sedation and stimulation, simultaneously submerging listeners into the distorted depths of the human experience while lifting them up with a distinctly groovy vibe and clean vocal style that shines through both in the studio and on stage. Following the release of their debut EP and their first full-length album, as well as a host of electrically frenzied live shows, Amammoth’s momentum is at an all-time high as they prepare for their biggest year yet, with a second full-length album set for release with Electric Valley Records, to be officially announced in due time, much to the delight of their diverse and growing global fanbase.
Tracklisting: 1. Intro 2. Among Us 3. Chosen 4. So High So Numb 5. Sink or Swim 6. Satellite 7. Ashes Remain 8. Interstitial
Amammoth are: Scott Fisher : vocals/guitar Warwick Poulton : bass Scott Wilson : drums
Amammoth, Distant Skies and the Ocean Flies (2025)
Posted in Reviews on December 9th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Welcome to the Quarterly Review. Oh, you were here last time? Me too. All door prizes will be mailed to winning parties upon completion of, uh, everything, I guess?
Anywhazzle, the good news is this week is gonna have 50 releases covered between now — the 10 below — and the final batch of 10 this Friday. I’m trying to sneak in a bunch of stuff ahead of year-end coverage, yes, but let the urgency of my doing so stand as testament to the quality of the music contained in this particular Quarterly Review. If I didn’t feel strongly about it, surely I’d find some other way to spend my time.
That said, let’s not waste time. You know the drill, I know the drill. Just don’t be surprised when some of the stuff you see here, today, tomorrow, and throughout the week, ends up in the Best of 2024 when the time comes. I have no idea what just yet, but for sure some of it.
We go.
Quarterly Review #1-10:
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Gnome, Vestiges of Verumex Visidrome
Some bands write songs for emotional catharsis. Some do it to make a political statement. Gnome‘s songs feel specifically — and expertly — crafted to engage an audience, and their third full-length, Vestiges of Verumex Visidrome, underscores the point. Hooks like “Old Soul” and “Duke of Disgrace” offer a self-effacing charm, where elsewhere the Antwerp trio burn through hot-shit riffing and impact-minded slam metal with a quirk that, if you’ve caught wind of the likes of Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol or Howling Giant in recent years, should fit nicely among them while finding its own sonic niche in being able to, say, throw a long sax solo on second cut “The Ogre” or veer into death growls for the title line of “Rotten Tongue” and others. They make ‘party riff metal’ sound much easier to manifest than it probably is, and the reason their reputation precedes them at this point goes right back to the songwriting. They hit hard, they get in, get out, it’s efficient when it wants to be but can still throw a curve with the stop and pivot in “Rotten Tongue,” running a line between punk and stoner, rock and metal, your face and the floor. It might actually be too enjoyable for some, but the funk they bring here is infectious. They make the riffs dance, and everything goes from there.
The lone studio track “Breathe” serves as the reasoning behind Hermano‘s first new release since 2007’s …Into the Exam Room (discussed here), and actually predates that still-latest long-player by some years. Does it matter? Yeah, sort of. As regards John Garcia‘s post-Kyuss career, Hermano both got fleshed out more than most (thinking bands like Unida and Slo Burn, even Vista Chino, that didn’t get to release three full-lengths in their time), and still seemed to fade out when there was so much potential ahead of them. If “Breathe” doesn’t argue in favor of this band giving it the proverbial “one more go,” perhaps the live version of “Brother Bjork” (maybe the same one featured on 2005’s Live at W2?) and a trio of cuts captured at Hellfest in 2016 should do the trick nicely. They’re on fire through “Senor Moreno’s Plan,” “Love” and “Manager’s Special,” with Garcia, Dandy Brown, David Angstrom, Chris Leathers and Mike Callahan treating Clisson to a reminder of why they’re the kind of band who might get to build an entire EP around a leftover studio track — because that studio track, and the band more broadly, righteously kick their own kind of ass. What would a new album be like?
Almost on a per-song basis, Stahv — the mostly-solo brainchild of multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Solomon Arye Rosenschein, here collaborating on production with John Getze of Ako-Lite Records — skewers and melds genres to create something new from their gooey remnants. On the opening title-track, maybe that’s a post-industrial Phil Collins set to dreamtime keyboard and backed by fuzzy drone. On “Lunar Haze,” it’s all goth ’80s keyboard handclaps until the chorus melody shines through the fog machine like The Beatles circa ’64. Yeah that’s right. And on “Bossa Supernova,” you bet your ass it’s bossa nova. “The Calling” reveals a rocker’s soul, where “Plainview” earlier on has a swing that might draw from The Birthday Party at its root (it also might not) but has its own sleek vibe just the same with a far-back, lo-fi buzz that somehow makes the melody sound better. “Aaskew” (sic) takes a hard-funkier stance musically but its outsider perspective in the lyrics is similar. The 1960s come back around in the later for “Circuit Crash” — it would have to be a song about the future — and “Leaving Light” seems to make fun of/celebrate (it can be both) that moment in the ’80s when everything became tropical. There’s worlds here waiting for ears adventurous enough to hear them.
I mean, look. The central question you really have to ask yourself is how mellow do you want to get? Do you think you can handle 12 minutes of “Transmigration?” Do you think you can be present in yourself through that cool-as-fuck, ultra-smooth psychedelic twist Space Shepherds pull off, barely three minutes into the the beginning of this seven-track, 71-minute pacifier to quiet the bad voices in your (definitely not my) brain. What’s up with that keyboard shuffle in “Celestial Rose” later on? I don’t know, but it rules. And when they blow it out in “Got Caught Dreaming?” Yeah, hell yeah, wake up! “Free Return” is a 15-minute drifter jam that gets funky in the back half (a phrase I’d like on a shirt) and you don’t wanna miss it! At the risk of spoiling it, I’ll tell you that the title-track, which closes, is absolutely the payoff it’s all asking for. If you’ve got the time to sit with it, and you can just sort of go where it’s going, Cycler is a trip begging to be taken.
It is all very big. All very grand, sweeping and poised musically, very modern and progressive and such — and immediately it has something if that’s what you’re looking for, which is super-doper, thanks — but if you dig into King Botfly‘s vocals, there’s a vulnerability there as well that adds an intimacy to all that sweep and plunges down the depths of the spacious mix’s low end. And I’m not knocking that part of it either. The Portsmouth, UK-based three-piece of guitarist/vocalist George Bell, bassist Luke Andrew and drummer Darren Draper, take on a monumental task in terms of largesse, and they hit hard when they want to, but there’s dynamic in it too, and both has an edge and doesn’t seem to go anywhere it does without a reason, which is a hard balance to strike. They sound like a band who will and maybe already have learned from this and will use that knowledge to move forward in an ongoing creative pursuit. So yes, progressive. Also tectonically heavy. And with heart. I think you got it. They’ll be at Desertfest London next May, and they sound ready for it.
Are Last Band a band? They sure sound like one. Founded by guitarists Pat Paul and Matt LeGrow (the latter also of Admiral Browning) upwards of 15 years ago, when they were less of an actual band, the Maryland-based outfit offer 13 songs of heavy alternative rock on The Sacrament in Accidents, with some classic metal roots shining through amid the harmonies of “Saffire Alice” and a denser thrust in “Season of Outrage,” a rush in the penultimate “Forty-Four to the Floor,” and so on, where the title-track is more of an open sway and “Lidocaine” is duly placid, and while the production is by no means expansive, the band convey their songs with intent. Most cuts are in the three-to-four-minute range, but “Blown Out” dips into psychedelic-gaze wash as the longest at 5:32 offset by comparatively grounded, far-off Queens of the Stone Age-style vocalizing in the last minute, which is an effective culmination. The material has range and feels worked on, and while The Sacrament in Accidents sounds raw, it hones a reach that feels true to a songwriting methodology evolved over time.
Debuting earlier this decade as a solo-project of Andrew Cox, Seattle’s Dream Circuit have built out to a four-piece for with Pennies for Your Life, which throughout its six-track/36-minute run sets a contemplative emotionalist landscape. Now completed by Anthony Timm, Cody Albers and Ian Etheridge, the band are able to move from atmospheric stretches of classically-inspired-but-modern-sounding verses into heavier tonality on a song like “Rosy” with fluidity that seems to save its sweep for when it counts. The title-track dares some shouts, giving some hint of a metallic underpinning, but that still rests well in context next to the sitar sounds of “Let Go,” which opens at 4:10 into its own organ-laced crush, emotionally satisfying. Imagine a post-heavy rock that’s still pretty heavy, and a dynamic that stretches across microgenres, and maybe that will give some starting idea. The last two tracks argue for efficiency in craft, but wherever Dream Circuit go on this sophomore release, they take their own route to get there.
“All is Light” is the first single from New Paltz bliss-drone meditationalist solo outfit Okkoto since 2022’s stellar and affirming Climb the Antlers and Reach the Stars (review here), and its seven minutes carry a similar scope to what one found on that album. To be clear, that’s a compliment. Interwoven threads of synth over methodical timekeeping drum sounds, wisps of airy guitar drawn together with other lead lines, keys or strings, create a flowing world around the vocals added by Michael Lutomski, also (formerly?) of heavy psych rockers It’s Not Night: It’s Space, the sole proprietor of the expanse. A lot of a given listener’s experience of Okkoto experience will depend on their own headspace, but if you have the time and attention — seven-plus minutes of active-but-not-too-active hearing recommended — but “All is Light” showcases the rare restorative aspects of Okkoto in a way that, if you can get to it, can make you believe, or at least escape for a little while.
Trappist Afterland, Evergreen: Walk to Paradise Garden
Underscored with a earth-rooted folkish fragility in the voice of Adam Geoffrey Cole (also guitar, cittern, tanpura, oud, synth, xylophone and something called a ‘dulcitar’), Melbourne’s Trappist Afterland are comfortably adventurous on this 10th full-length, Evergreen: Walk to Paradise Garden, which digs deeper into psych-drone on longest track “Cruciform/The Reincarnation of Kelly-Anne (Parts 1-3)” (7:55) while elsewhere digs into fare more Eastern-influenced-Western-traditional, largely based around guitar composition. With an assortment of collaborators coming and going, even this is enough for Cole and his seemingly itinerant company to create a sense of variety — the violin in centerpiece “Barefoot in Thistles” does a lot of work in that regard; ditto the squeezebox of opener “The Squall” — and while the arrangements don’t lack for flourish, the human expression is paramount, and the nine songs are serene unto the group vocal that caps in “You Are Evergreen,” which would seem to be placed to highlight its resonance, and reasonably so. As it’s Trappist Afterland‘s 10th album by their own count, it’s hardly a surprise they know what they’re about, but they do anyway.
For a band who went so far as to name themselves after a fuzz pedal, Spain’s Big Muff Brigade have more in common with traditional desert rock than the kind of tonal worship one might expect them to deliver. That landscape doesn’t account for their naming a song “Terre Haute,” seemingly after the town in Indiana — I’ve been there; not a desert — but fair enough for the shove of that track, which on Pi arrives just ahead of closer “Seasonal Affective Disorder,” which builds to a nonetheless-mellow payoff before its fadeout. Elsewhere, the seven-minute “Pierced by the Spear” drops Sleepy (and thus Sabbathian) references in the guitar ahead of creating a duly stonerly lumber before they even unfurl the first verse — a little more in keeping with the kind of riff celebration one might expect going in — but even there, the band maintain a thread of purposeful songcraft that can only continue to serve them as they move past this Argonauta-delivered debut and continued to grow. There is a notable sense of outreach here, though, and in writing to genre, Big Muff Brigade show both their love of what they do and a will to connect with likeminded audiences.
Posted in Whathaveyou on November 7th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
Look, it’s been a rough couple days where I’m at. I know that doesn’t have jack shit to do with Iron Blanket, who are from Australia and who put out their Astral Wanderer LP earlier this year on Copper Feast and Sound Effect Records, and who are from Australia. I know. Unrelated. But man, everything just feels like a drag. Existing got heavier, and not in a good way.
So I’m not saying don’t watch Iron Blanket‘s ‘Live at Red Belly Records’ live session. At all. I’m saying stop whatever else you’re doing and immerse in it. Don’t just watch it. Maybe put some headphones on, turn the volume up and really let go for a while. I don’t know where you are or your situation, but if you actually make it through all 25 minutes with some kind of mental escape, isn’t that automatically a win? Just a couple minutes of being someplace else in your head?
The video has four songs, three of which were on Astral Wanderer and the concluding “Jam Sandwich,” which, yes, has plenty of jam. Maybe it’s what you need today and maybe it isn’t. I don’t know. But sitting here doing this feels stupid and listening to music doesn’t, so I’m gonna put on some tunes and try to check out for a while.
Peace:
Sydney powerhouse IRON BLANKET slithered their way up into the into Redbelly studios after their Album release after ‘That’ night at the Northern in Byron Bay.
Here’s: Mystic Goddess 00:45 Visions of the End 05:20 Kookaburra Nightmare 11:11 Jam sandwich 20:25
Filmed: 47 Studio Edited: 47 Studio / Red Belly Records Recorded: Red Belly Records Mixed + Mastered: Iron Blanket
Iron Blanket is: Mark Lonsdale – Guitar Nick Matthews – Drums Tom Withford – Guitar Charles Eggleston – Bass Johann Ingemar – Vocals
