It is arguable of human art that no matter what it is or does, it will never completely encapsulate the drive behind it or the inspiration causing it to be made. I tend to believe this of great historical works — your Mona Lisas, your Sphinxes, and so on — as well as of the statues-of-nothing one finds outside office buildings. It certainly applies to my work — already, three sentences in! — and over the last two decades I’ve heard from countless songwriters and bands that it’s true for the greater part of theirs as well. Not that you can’t be happy with what you’ve done, but that some part of you always knows the motivation behind it was even stronger than the realization.

So imagine a momentous occasion. I bring this up because Australian heavy psych r-o-c-k-ers Seedy Jeezus last summer released The Hollow Earth through Lay Bare Recordings, as a double-LP, and more, as a moment captured. I could summarize, but here’s the band’s recounting:

In Melbourne we had some crazy lockdowns, some of the strictest in the world. There was a window between lockdowns we had the chance to get a group of friends together without social distancing etc… so we took the chance to get into a studio, and have a bbq, catch up and a jam. Mark flew in from Tasmania for a rehearsal the day before the recording session.

What we got was a great testament to where we were after lockdowns and very little time together. During lockdown Lex had learnt to play Voodoo Chile and dropped it on the band to cover it… we selected a mixx of old n new for the session. We played 2 sets, and thought wed get a album out of it, but as it turned out we had enough for a double album.

This went down at Studio One B here in Melbourne, with David Warner engineering it all. Tony Reed came on and mixed n mastered what we sent him, and did a killer job. Stephen Boxshall took the cover photo and with a little help from our friends it all came together.

And there you are. That guitarist/vocalist Lex Waterreus learned Jimi Hendrix‘s “Voodoo Child (Slight Return)” is something that comes up between the songs as either bassist Paul Crick or drummer Mark Sibson chimes in, after Waterreus says “I was bored during lockdown and learned it,” that then the rest of the band had to do the same to make the cover. Fair enough. They rip the galaxy open with it though, so I assume it was all worthwhile.

That cover is also the tip of the 75-minute 2LP iceberg that is The Hollow Earth. If you’ve ever had the pleasure of engaging Seedy Jeezus‘ studio work — their latest proper full-length is 2018’s Polaris Oblique (review here) but they’ve done live stuff and one-offs since — you’ll know they walk the line between stretched-out heavy psych and more traditional rock, structure and ‘out-there’ vibes pervading at the same time. They’re not the first with a similar blend, but they do it exceedingly well, and as they run through two sets on The Hollow Earth for a lockdown-era gathering of friends, you can hear them digging all the way in, getting it while they can because who the hell knows when they’ll be able to again?

Even before you get to the bass leading the way through “Echoes in the Sky” with the drums at the foundation and the guitar gone a-wanderin’ in a fantastic display of classic chemistry and Seedy Jeezus‘ own dynamic in particular, or the 11-minute Floydian highlight “Dripping From the Eye of the Sun” with its own jam giving a slight return to the earlier parenthetical in the Hendrix tune, as a concept it’s a beautiful thing to capture. However many people were there, it’s enough to sound like at least a small crowd in between songs, and for all the implied intimacy of that, Seedy Jeezus bring the full breadth of their sound, be it Wattereus‘ scorching solo work in “The Golden Miles” or the later fuzzy shove of “Oh Lord Pt. 2.” I know everybody’s tired of hearing about the pandemic and I am too, but this isn’t about the lockdown so much as the vital creative spirit that persisted through it. The same need that had humans drawing on cave walls tens of thousands of years ago made this. What an incredible species we can be when we’re not busy killing or otherwise being complete assholes to each other, the planet, animals, and so on.

They start quiet and gradual with the ‘strap yourselves in, kids’ unfolding of “Is There All That Is,” which immediately demonstrates the malleability of structure in the band’s grasp, the openness with which they approach their own work. They’re jammers, is what I’m telling you, even when the jam has a set destination in mind via a vis the next chorus, the quiet part, whatever, to which it will eventually return the audience. But man, these cats really go, and The Hollow Earth, for every moment like the righteous crash into the second verse of “Wormhole” and the freelance fiending that ensues has a corresponding fleshout, like the 16-minute take on “How Ya Doin'” that for most acts would be a career landmark but here is delivered, well, not with no ceremony, because certainly it’s a good time, but with some sense of being understated when it comes to the actual vibrancy of the material being explored.

I wonder if they had chairs or if people sat on the floor. Studio couches for those who got there early? How was the barbecue? Burgers and dogs, curried sausages, what? How long was the party? How soon after did Melbourne go back into lockdown? Did they know it was coming? Just how true is the getting-away-with-it narrative around the record’s making?

Maybe it’s better not to know. Maybe it adds mystique so often absent from the world of immediate access, cloying social media content and storyline positioning. In any case, Seedy Jeezus did two sets as part of one show and got a double-vinyl out of it, and if you ever needed an example of an offering hurt by the pressing delays that slammed record manufacturing between 2020-2022, this is it. Beset by bullshit. By the time it came out last summer, it already seemed to be a historical document, and it may be years before it can be rightly and fully embraced for what it captures and the vibe throughout, never mind the actual sound of the thing. Such as it ever ended, it was a weird time to be alive. Tucked into the middle of it, this must’ve been a hell of a night.

As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.

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My alarm went off at 3AM. The first time. Then four. By the time the last one came around at 5:30, I was already up, but it felt like a luxury nonetheless. I needed the sleep, I guess.

Was feeling pretty light on motivation this week after finishing the Quarterly Review (for now), thinking about what a bummer it is to lose the Gimme Metal show because they’re shutting down the app, and so on. That and dividing my attention between writing and keeping up with the GoFundMe for Leanne from Riff Relevant/Mettle MediaGoFundMe for Leanne from Riff Relevant/Mettle Media as it met, passed, met and passed again its goals, plus a decent amount of fuckoff time was where my head was at. I’m glad to have reviewed the Black Moon Circle, Fuzz Sagrado and Dozer records. Next week is Ruff Majik and I’ve already talked about that. There’s other stuff too, but in my mind that’s the centerpiece of the week. It’ll be posted on Thursday.

This weekend I’m in Maryland for wedding of The Patient Mrs.’ brother, who lives in Baltimore. That’ll be fine, if a little harried chasing down The Pecan, whose new dress for it is lovely and bound to be wrecked by wearing if not immediately then almost certainly soon thereafter. So it goes in the way of things that go. Pretty much nonstop.

I hope you have a great and safe weekend. Wherever you’re at, I hope the weather is good and you’re comfortable and not worried about money or some other bullshit. Watch your head, don’t forget to hydrate, and don’t tell me spoilers for the ending of Star Trek: Picard, because I haven’t watched it yet (yeah I read a review but comprehension is low and of course I want to see it for myself). In any case, thanks for reading.

FRM.

The Obelisk Collective on Facebook

The Obelisk Radio

The Obelisk merch

Kind of an odd Quarterly Review, huh? I know. The two extra days. Well, here’s the thing. I’ve already got the better part of a 50-record QR booked for next month. I’ve slid a few of those albums in here to replace things I already covered blah blah whatever, but there’s just a ton of stuff out right now, and a lot of it I want to talk about, so yeah. I tacked on the two extra days here to get to 70 records, and in May we’ll do another 50, and if you want to count that as Spring (I can’t decide yet if I do or not; if you’ve got an opinion, I’d love to hear it in the comments), that’s 120 records covered even if I start over and go from 1-50 instead of 71-120. Any way you go, it’s nearly enough that you could listen to two records per week for the next full year based just on two weeks and two days of posts.

That’s insane. And yet here we are. Two weeks in a row wouldn’t have been enough, and any more than that and I get so backed up on other stuff that whatever stress I undercut by covering a huge swath in the QR is replaced by being so behind on everything that isn’t said QR. Does that make sense at all? No? Well fine then. Shit.

Quarterly Review #51-60:

Ecstatic Vision, Live at Duna Jam

This is a good thing for everyone. Here’s why: For the band? Easy. They get a new thing to sell at the merch table on their upcoming European tour. Win. For the label? Obviously the cash from whatever they sell, plus the chance to showcase one of their acts tearing it up on European soil. “Check out how awesome this shit is plus we’re behind it.” Always good for branding. For fans of the band, well, you already know you need it. I don’t have to tell you that. But Ecstatic Vision‘s Live at Duna Jam — as a greater benefit to the universe around it — runs deeper than that. It’s an example to follow. You wanna see, wanna hear how it’s done? This is how it’s done, kids. You get up on that stage, step out on that beach, and you throw everything you have into your art, every fucking time. This is who Ecstatic Vision are. They’re the band who blow minds like the trees in the old videos of A-bomb tests. They’ve got six songs here, a clean 38-minute live LP, and for the betterment of existence in general, you can absolutely hear in it the ferocity with which Ecstatic Vision deliver live. The fact that it’s from Duna Jam — the ultimate Eurofest daydream — is neat, but so help me gawd they could’ve recorded it in a Philly basement and they’d still be this visceral. That’s who they are. And if we, as listeners, are lucky, others will hear this and follow their example.

Ecstatic Vision on Facebook

Heavy Psych Sounds website

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Usnea, Bathed in Light

Oppressive in atmosphere regardless of volume but with plenty of volume to go around, Portland all-doomers Usnea return after six years with their third full-length, Bathed in Light, a grueling and ultimately triumph-of-death-ant work spanning six songs and 43 minutes of unremitting drear positioned in the newer-school vein of emotionally resonant extreme death-doom. Plodding until it isn’t, wrenching in its screams until it isn’t, the album blossoms cruelties blackened and crushing and makes the chanting in “Premeditatio Malorum” not at all out of place just the same, the slow-churning metal unrelentingly brutal as it shifts into caustic noise in that penultimate track — just one example among the many scattered throughout of the four-piece turning wretched sounds into consuming landscapes. The earlier guitar squeals on “The Compleated Sage” would be out of place if not for the throatripping and blastbeating happening immediately prior, and whether it’s the synth at the outset and the soaring guitar at the end of “To the Deathless” or the Bell Witchian ambient start to closer “Uncanny Valley” — the riff, almost stoner — before it bursts to violence at three minutes into its 8:27 on the way to a duly massive, guttural finish for the record, Usnea mine cohesion from contradictions and are apparently unscathed by the ringer through which they put their audience. Sometimes nothing but the most miserable will do.

Usnea on Facebook

Translation Loss Records store

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Oceanlord, Kingdom Cold

The more one listens to Kingdom Cold, the impressive Magnetic Eye Records debut LP from Melbourne, Australia’s Oceanlord, the more there is to hear. The subtle Patrick Walker-style edge in the vocals of “Kingdom” and the penultimate roller “So Cold,” the Elephant Tree-style nod riff in “2340,” the way the bass underscores the ambient guitar and layered melodies in “Siren,” the someone-in-this-band-listens-to-extreme-metal flashes in the guitar as “Isle of the Dead” heads into its midsection, and the way the shift into and through psychedelia seems so organic on closer “Come Home,” the three-piece seeming just to reach out further from where they’ve been standing all the while for the sake of adding even more breadth to the proceedings. If the Magnetic Eye endorsement didn’t already put you over the edge, I hope this will, because what Oceanlord seem to be doing — and what they did on their 2020 demo (review here), where “Isle of the Dead” and “Come Home” appeared — is to work from a foundation in doom and slow-heavy microgenres and pick the elements that most resonate with them as the basis for their songs. They bring them into their own context, which is not something everyone does on their fifth record, let alone their first. So if it’s hearing the potential that gets you on board, fine, but the important thing is you should just get on board. They’re onto something, and part of what I like about Kingdom Cold is I’m not sure what.

Oceanlord on Facebook

Magnetic Eye Records store

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Morass of Molasses, End All We Know

Thoroughly fuzzed and ready to rock, Reading, UK, three-piece Morass of Molasses follow 2019’s The Ties That Bind (review here) with their third album and Ripple Music label debut, End All We Know, breaking eight songs into two fascinatingly-close-to-even sides running a total of 37 minutes of brash swing and stomp as baritone guitarist/vocalist Bones Huse, bassist Phil Williams and drummer Raj Puni embrace more progressive constructions for their familiar and welcome tonal richness. With Huse‘s vocals settling into a Nick Oliveri-style bark on opener “The Origin of North” and the likes of “Hellfayre” and “Naysayer” on side A, the pattern seems to be set, but the key is third track “Sinkhole,” which prefaces some of the changes the four cuts on side B bring about, trading burl and brash for more dug in arrangements, psychedelic flourish on “Slingshot Around the Sun” and “Terra Nova” — they’re still grounded structurally, but the melodic reach expands significantly and the guitar twists in “Terra Nova” feel specifically heavy psych-derived — before “Prima Materia” combines those hazy colours with prog-rock insistences and “Wings of Reverie” meets metallic soloing with Elder-style expanse. Not a record they could’ve made five years ago, End All We Know comes through as a moment of realization for Morass of Molasses, and their delivery does justice to the ambition behind it.

Morass of Molasses on Facebook

Ripple Music website

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Fuzzy Grapes, Volume 1

Real headfucker, this one. And I’ll admit, the temptation to leave the review at that is significant, since so much of the intent behind Fuzzy Grapes‘ Volume 1 seems to be a headfirst dive into the deepweird, but the samples, effects, of course fuzz and gong-and-chant-laced brazenness with which the Flagstaff, Arizona, unit set out on “Sludge Fang,” the Mikael Åkerfeldtian growls in “Snake Dagger” and the art-surf poetry reading in “Dust of Three Strings” that becomes a future cavern of synth and noise before the “Interlude” of birdsong and meditative noodling mark a procession too individual to be ignored. Three songs, break, three songs, break goes the structure of the 25-minute debut offering from the five-piece outfit, and by the time “The Cosmic Throne” begins its pastoral progadelic “ahh”s and dreamy ride cymbal jazz, one should be well content to have no idea what’s coming next. Once upon a time elsewhere in the Southwest, there was a collective of kitchen-sink heavy punkers named Leeches of Lore, and Fuzzy Grapes tap some similar adventurousness of spirit, but rarely is a band so much their own thing their first time out. “Made of Solstice” harsh-barks to offset its indie-grunge verse, fleshing out the bassy roll with effects or keys from the chorus onward, jamming like Blind Melon just ran into Amon Amarth getting gas at the Circle K. “Goatcult” ties together some of it with the harsh/chant vocal blend and a cymbal-led push, finishing with the line “Every day the world is ending” before the epilogue “Outro” plays like a vintage 78RPM record singing something about when you’re dead. Don’t expect to understand it the first time though, or maybe the first eight, but know that it’s worth pursuing and meeting the band on their level. I want to hear what they do next and how/if their approach might solidify.

Fuzzy Grapes on Facebook

Fuzzy Grapes on Bandcamp

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Iress, Solace EP

Conveying genuine emotionality and reach in the vocals of Michelle Malley, the four-track Solace EP from L.A.’s Iress turns its humble 16 minutes into an expressive soundscape of what the kids these days seem to call doomgaze, with post-rock float in the guitar of Graham Walker (who makes his first appearance here) atop the solemn and heavy-bottomed grooves of bassist Michael Maldonado and drummer Glenn Chu for a completeness of experience that’s all the more immersive on headphones in a close-your-eyes kind of listen — that low contemplation of bass after 2:20 into “Soft,” for example, is one of a multitude of details worth appreciating — and though leadoff piece “Blush” begins with a quick rise of feedback and rolls forth with a distinct Jesu-style melancholy, Iress are no less effective or resonant in the sans-drums first two minutes of “Vanish” in accentuating atmosphere before the big crash-in finishes and “Ricochet” offers further dynamic display in its loud/quiet trades, graceful and unhurried in their transitions, the surge of the not-cloying hook densely weighted but not out of place either behind “Vanish” or ahead of “Soft,” even as it’s patience over impact being emphasized as Malley intones “I’m not ready” as a thread through the song. Permit me to disagree with that assessment. The whole band sounds ready, be it for a follow-up album to 2020’s Flaw (which was their second LP) or whatever else may come.

Iress on Facebook

Dune Altar website

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Frogskin, III – Into Disgust

Long-running Finnish troupe Frogskin ooze forth with extremity of purpose even before the harsh-throated declarations of 10-minute opener “Mistress Divine” kick in, and III – Into Disgust maintains the high (or purposefully low, depending on how you want to look at it) standard that initial millstone-slowness sets as “Of Vermin and Man” (8:30) continues the scathe and tension in its unfolding and the somehow-thicker, sample-inclusive centerpiece “Serpent Path” (7:21) highlights violent intention on the way to the shift that brings the atmosphere forward on the two-minute still-a-song “B.B.N.T.B.N.” — the acronym: ‘Bound by nature to be nothing’ — which feels likewise pathological and methodical ahead of closer “The Pyre” (11:46). One might expect in listening that at some point Frogskin will break out at a sprint and start either playing death or black metal, grindcore, etc., but no. They don’t. They don’t give you that. And that’s the point. You don’t get relief or release. There’s no safe energetic payoff waiting. III – Into Disgust is aural quicksand, exclusively. Do not expect mercy because there’s none coming.

Frogskin on Facebook

Iron Corpse store

Violence in the Veins website

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Albinö Rhino, Return to the Core

No strangers to working in longform contexts or casting spacier fare amid their doom-rooted riffery, Helsinki’s Albinö Rhino downplay the latter somewhat on their single-song Return to the Core full-length. Their first 12″ since 2016’s Upholder (review here), the trio of guitarist/vocalist/Moogist Kimmo Tyni, bassist/vocalist VH and drummer Viljami Väre welcome back Scott “Dr. Space” Heller (also of Space Rock Productions, Øresund Space Collective, etc.) for a synthy guest appearance and Mikko Heikinpoika on vocals and Olli Laamanen on keys, and the resultant scope of “Return to the Core” is duly broad, spreading outward from its acoustic-guitar beginning into cosmic doom rock with a thicker riff breaking doors down at 9:30 or so and a jammed-feeling journey into the greater ‘out there’ that ensues. That back and forth plays out a couple times as they manifest the title in the piece itself — the core being perhaps the done-live basic tracks then expanded through overdubs to the final form — but even when the song devolves starting after the solo somewhere around 22 minutes in, they’re mindful as well as hypnotic en route to the utter doom that transpires circa 24:30, and that they finish in a manner that ties together both aspects tells you there’s been a plan at work all along. They execute it with particular refinement and fluidity.

Albinö Rhino on Facebook

Space Rock Productions website

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Cleõphüzz, Mystic Vulture

Self-released posthumous to the defunctification of the Quebecois band itself, Mystic Vulture ends up as a rousing swansong for what could’ve been from Cleõphüzz, hitting a nerve with “Desert Rider”‘s blend of atmosphere and grit, cello adding to the space between bass and guitar before the engrossing gang chants round out. With its 46 minutes broken into the two sides of the vinyl issue it will no doubt eventually receive, the eight-song offering — their debut, by the way — makes vocal points of the extended “Desperado” with its organ (I think?) mixed in amid the classic-style fuzz and “Shutdown in the Afterlife” bringing the strings further to the center in an especially spacious close. But whether it’s there or in the respective intros “The End” and “Sarcophage” or the proggy float of “Sortilège” or the Canadiana instrumental and vocal exploration of the title-track itself, Mystic Vulture flows easily across its material, varied but not so far out as to lose its human underpinning, and is more journey than destination. It’s gotten some hype — I think in part because the band aren’t together anymore; heavy music always wants what it can’t have — but in arrangement as well as songwriting, Cleõphüzz crafted the material here with a clear sense of perspective, and the apparent loss of potential becomes part of hearing the album. Some you win, some you lose. At least they got this out.

Cleõphüzz on Facebook

Cleõphüzz on Bandcamp

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Arriver, Azimuth

Expansive metal. Azimuth is the fourth long-player and first in seven years from Chicago progressive/post-metallers Arriver, who answer melody with destruction and crunch with sprawl. From opener “Reenactor” onward, they follow structural paths that are as likely to meld meditative psych with death metal (looking at you, “Only On”) as they are to combust in charred punker aggro rage on “Constellate” or second track “Knot.” The 10-minute penultimate title-track would seem to represent the crossroads at which these ideas meet — a summary as much as anything could hope to be — but even that isn’t the end of it as “None More Unknown” makes dramatic folkish proclamations before concluding with a purposeful nod. “In the Only” winds lead guitar through what might otherwise be post-hardcore, while “Carrion Sun” duly reeks of death in the desert, the complexity of the drum work alone lending gotta-hear status. Plenty of bands claim to be led by their songs. I won’t say I know how Arriver assembled these pieces to make the entirety of Azimuth, but if the band were to say they sat back and let the record write itself and follow its own impulses, I’d believe them more than most. Bound to alienate as well as engage, it is its own thing in its own place, and commanding in its moments of epiphany.

Arriver on Facebook

Arriver on Bandcamp

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If you missed yesterday, be advised, it’s not too late. If you miss today, be advised as well that tomorrow’s not too late. One of the things I enjoy most about the Quarterly Review is that it puts the lie to the idea that everything on the internet has to be so fucking immediate. Like if you didn’t hear some release two days before it actually came out, somehow a week, a month, a year later, you’ve irreparably missed it.

That isn’t true in the slightest, and if you want proof, I’m behind on shit ALL. THE. TIME. and nine times out of 10, it just doesn’t matter. I’ll grant that plenty of music is urgent and being in that moment when something really cool is released can be super-exciting — not taking away from that — but hell’s bells, you can sit for the rest of your life and still find cool shit you’ve never heard that was released half a century ago, let alone in January. My advice is calm down and enjoy the tunes; and yes, I’m absolutely speaking to myself as much as to you.

Quarterly Review #11-20:

Siena Root, Revelation

What might be their eighth LP, depending on what counts as what, Revelation is the second from Siena Root to feature vocalist/organist Zubaida Solid up front alongside seemingly-now-lone guitarist Johan Borgström (also vocals) and the consistent foundation provided by the rhythm section of bassist Sam Riffer (also some vocals) and drummer Love “Billy” Forsberg. Speaking a bit to their own history, the long-running Swedish classic heavy rockers inject a bit of sitar (by Stian Grimstad) and hand-percussion into “Leaving the City,” but the 11-song/46-minute offering is defined in no small part by a bluesy feel, and Solid‘s vocal performance brings that aspect to “Leaving the City” as well, even if the sonic focus for Siena Root is more about classic prog and blues rock of hooky inclusions like the organ-and-guitar grooving opener “Coincidence and Fate” and the gently funky “Fighting Gravity,” or even the touch of folkish jazz in “Winter Solstice,” though the sitar does return on side B’s “Madukhauns” ahead of the organ/vocal showcase closer “Keeper of the Flame,” which calls back to the earlier “Dalecarlia Stroll” with a melancholy Deep Purple could never quite master and a swinging payoff that serves as just one final way in which Siena Root once more demonstrate they are pure class in terms of execution.

Siena Root on Facebook

Atomic Fire Records website

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Los Mundos, Eco del Universo

The latest and (again) maybe-eighth full-length to arrive within the last 10 years from Monterrey, Mexico’s Los Mundos, Eco del Universo is an immersive dreamboat of mellow psychedelia, with just enough rock to not be pure drift on a song like “Hanna,” but still an element of shoegaze to bring the cool kids on board. Effects gracefully channel-swap alongside languid vocals (in Spanish, duh) with a melodicism that feels casual but is not unconsidered either in that song or the later “Rocas,” which meets Western-tinged fuzz with a combination of voices from bassist/keyboardist Luis Ángel Martínez, guitarist/synthesist/sitarist Alejandro Elizondo and/or drummer Ricardo Antúnez as the band is completed by guitarist/keyboardist/sitarist Raúl González. Yes, they have two sitarists; they need both, as well as all the keyboards, and the modular synth, and the rest of it. All of it. Because no matter what arrangement elements are put to use in the material, the songs on Eco del Universo just seem to absorb it all into one fluid approach, and if by the time the hum-drone and maybe-gong in the first minute of opener “Las Venas del Cielo” unfolds into the gently moody and gorgeous ’60s-psych pop that follows you don’t agree, go back and try again. Space temples, music engines in the quirky pop bounce of “Gente del Espacio,” the shape of air defined amid semi-krautrock experimentalism in “La Forma del Aire”; esta es la música para los lugares más allá. Vamos todos.

Los Mundos on Facebook

The Acid Test Recordings store

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Minnesota Pete Campbell, Me, Myself & I

Well, you see, sometimes there’s a global pandemic and even the most thoroughly-banded of artists starts thinking about a solo record. Not to make light of either the plague or the decision or the result experience from “Minnesota” Pete Campbell (drummer of Pentagram, Place of Skulls, In~Graved, Vulgarri, Gygax, Sixty Watt Shaman for a hot minute, guitarist of The Mighty Nimbus, etc.), but he kind of left himself open to it with putting “Lockdown Blues” and the generally personal nature of the songs on, Me, Myself and I, his first solo album in a career of more than two decades. The nine-song/46-minute riffy splurge is filled with love songs seemingly directed at family in pieces like “Lightbringer,” “You’re My Angel,” the eight-minute “Swimming in Layla’s Hair,” the two-minute “Uryah vs. Elmo,” so humanity and humility are part of the general vibe along with the semi-Southern grooves, easy-rolling heavy blues swing, acoustic/electric blend in the four-minute purposeful sans-singing meander of “Midnight Dreamin’,” and so on. Five of the nine inclusions feature Campbell on vocals, and are mixed for atmosphere in such a way as to make me believe he doesn’t think much of himself as a singer — there’s some yarl, but he’s better than he gives himself credit for on both the more uptempo and brash “Starlight” and the mellow-Dimebag-style “Whispers of Autumn,” which closes — but there’s a feeling-it-out sensibility to the tracks that only makes the gratitude being expressed (either lyrically or not) come through as more sincere. Heck man, do another.

Minnesota Pete Campbell on Facebook

Kozmik Artifactz website

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North Sea Noise Collective, Roudons

Based in the Netherlands, North Sea Noise Collective — sometimes also written as Northsea Noise Collective — includes vocals for the first time amid the experimental ambient drones of the four pieces on the self-released Roudons, which are reinterpretations of Frisian rockers Reboelje, weirdo-everythingist Arnold de Boer and doom legends Saint Vitus. The latter, a take on the signature piece “Born Too Late” re-titled “Dit Doarp” (‘this village’ in English), is loosely recognizable in its progression, but North Sea Noise Collective deep-dives into the elasticity of music, stretching limits of where a song begins and ends conceptually. Modular synth hums, ebbs and flows throughout “Wat moatte wy dwaan as wy gjin jild hawwe,” which follows opener “Skepper fan de skepper” and immerses further in open spaces crafted through minimalist sonic architecture, the vocals chanting like paeans to the songs themselves. It should probably go without saying that Roudons isn’t going to resonate with all listeners in the same way, but universal accessibility is pretty clearly low on the album’s priority list, and for as dug-in as Roudons is, that’s right where it should be.

North Sea Noise Collective on Facebook

North Sea Noise Collective on Bandcamp

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Sins of Magnus, Secrets of the Cosmos

Philly merchants Sins of Magnus offer their fourth album in the 12 songs/48 minutes of Secrets of the Cosmos, and while said secrets may or may not actually be included in the record’s not-insignificant span, I’ll say that I’ve yet to find the level of volume that’s too loud for the record to take. And maybe that’s the big secret after all. In any case, the three-piece of bassist/vocalist Eric Early, guitarist/vocalist Rich Sutcliffe and drummer Sean Young tap classic heavy rock vibes and aim them on a straight-line road to riffy push. There’s room for some atmosphere and guest vocal spots on the punkier closing pair “Mother Knows Best” and “Is Anybody There?” but the grooves up front are more laid back and chunkier-style, where “Not as Advertised,” “Workhorse,” “Let’s Play a Game” and “No Sanctuary” likewise get punkier, contrasting that metal stretch in “Stoking the Flames” earlier on In any case, they’re more unpretentious than they are anything else, and that suits just fine since there’s more than enough ‘changing it up’ happening around the core heavy riffs and mean-muggin’ vibes. It’s not the most elaborate production ever put to tape, but the punker back half of the record is more effective for that, and they get their point across anyhow.

Sins of Magnus on Instagram

Sins of Magnus on Bandcamp

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Nine Altars, The Eternal Penance

Steeped in the arcane traditions of classic doom metal, Nine Altars emerge from the UK with their three-song/33-minute debut full-length, The Eternal Penance, leading with the title-track’s 13-minute metal-of-eld rollout as drummer/vocalist Kat Gillham (also Thronehammer, Lucifer’s Chalice, Enshroudment, etc.), guitarists Charlie Wesley (also also Enshroudment, Lucifer’s Chalice) and Nicolete Burbach and bassist Jamie Thomas roll with distinction into “The Fragility of Existence” (11:58), which starts reasonably slow and then makes that seem fast by comparison before picking up the pace again in the final third ahead of the more trad-NWOBHM idolatry of “Salvation Lost” (8:27). Any way they go, they’re speaking to metal born no later than 1984, and somehow for a band on their first record with two songs north of 11 minutes, they don’t come across as overly indulgent, instead borrowing what elements they want from what came before them and applying them to their longform works with fluidity of purpose and confident melodicism, Gillham‘s vocal command vital to the execution despite largely following the guitar, which of course is also straight out of the classic metal playbook. Horns, fists, whatever. Raise ’em high in the name of howling all-doom.

Nine Altars on Facebook

Good Mourning Records website

Journey’s End Records website

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The Freqs, Poachers

Fuzzblasting their way out of Salem, Massachusetts, with an initial public offering of six cuts that one might legitimately call “high octane” and not feel like a complete tool, The Freqs are a relatively new presence in the Boston/adjacent heavy underground, but they keep kicking ass like this and someone’s gonna notice. Hell, I’m sure someone has. They’re in and out in 27 minutes, so Poachers is an EP, but if it was a debut album, it’d be one of the best I’ve heard in this busy first half of 2023. Fine. So it goes on a different list. The get-off-your-ass-and-move effect of “Powetrippin'” remains the same, and even in the quiet outset of the subsequent “Asphalt Rivers,” it’s plain the breakout is coming, which, satisfyingly, it does. “Sludge Rats” decelerates some, certainly compared to opener “Poacher Gets the Tusk,” but is proportionately huge-sounding in making that tradeoff, especially near the end, and “Chase Fire, Caught Smoke” rips itself open ahead of the more aggressive punches thrown in the finale “Witch,” all swagger and impact and frenetic energy as it is. Fucking a. They end noisy and crowd-chanting, leaving one wanting both a first-LP and to see this band live, which as far as debut EPs go is most likely mission accomplished. It’s a burner. Don’t skip out on it because they didn’t name the band something more generic-stoner.

The Freqs on Facebook

The Freqs on Bandcamp

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Lord Mountain, The Oath

Doomer nod, proto-metallic duggery and post-NWOBHM flourish come together with heavy rock tonality and groove throughout Lord Mountain‘s bullshit-free recorded-in-2020/2021 debut album, issued through King Volume as the follow-up to a likewise-righteous-but-there-was-less-of-it 2016 self-titled EP (review here) and other odds and ends. Like a West Coast Magic Circle, they’ve got their pagan altars built and their generals out witchfinding, but the production is bright in Pat Moore‘s snare cutting through the guitars of Jesse Swanson (also vocals and primary songwriting) and Sean Serrano, and Andy Chism‘s bass, working against trad-metal cliché, is very much in the mix figuratively, literally, and thankfully. The chugs and winding of “The Last Crossing” flow smoothly into the mourning solo in the song’s second half, and the doom they proffer in “Serpent Temple” and the ultra-Dio Sabbath concluding title-track just might make you a believer if you weren’t one. It’s a record you probably didn’t know you were waiting for, and all the more so when you realize “The Oath” is “Four Horsemen”/”Mechanix” played slower. Awesome.

Lord Mountain on Facebook

King Volume Records store

Kozmik Artifactz store

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Black Air, Impending Bloom

Opener “The Air at Night Smells Different” digs into HEX-era Earth‘s melancholic Americana instrumentalism and threat-underscored grayscale, but “Fog Works,” which follows, turns that around as guitarist Florian Karg moves to keys and dares to add both progressivism and melody to coincide with that existential downtrodding. Fellow guitarist Philipp Seiler, standup-bassist Stephan Leeb and drummer Marian Waibl complete the four-piece, and Impending Bloom is their first long-player as Black Air. They ultimately keep that post-Earth spirit in the seven-minute title-track, but sneak in a more active stretch after four minutes in, not so much paying off a build — that’s still to come in “A New-Found Calm” — = as reminding there’s life in the wide spaces being conjured. The penultimate “The Language of Rocks and Roots” emphasizes soul in the guitar’s swelling and receding volume, while closer “Array of Lights,” even in its heaviest part, seems to rest more comfortably on its bassline. In establishing a style, the Vienna-based outfit come through as familiar at least on a superficial listen, but there’s budding individuality in these songs, and so their debut might just be a herald of blossoming to come.

Black Air on Instagram

Black Air on Bandcamp

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Bong Coffin, The End Beyond Doubt

Oh yeah, you over it? You tired of the bongslaught of six or seven dozen megasludge bands out there with ‘bong’ in their name trying to outdo each other in cannabinoid content on Bandcamp every week? Fine. I don’t care. You go be too cool. I’ll pop on “Ganjalf” and follow the smoke to oh wait what was I saying again? Fuck it. With some Dune worked in for good measure, Adelaide, Australia’s Bong Coffin build a sludge for the blacklands on “Worthy of Mordor” and shy away not a bit from the more caustic end their genre to slash through their largesse of riff like the raw blade of an uruk-hai shredding some unsuspecting villager who doesn’t even realize the evil overtaking the land. They move a bit on “Messiah” and “Shaitan” and threaten a similar shove in “Nightmare,” but it’s the gonna-read-Lovecraft-when-done-with-Tolkien screams and crow-call rasp of “Träskkungen” that gets the prize on Bong Coffin‘s debut for me, so radly wretched and sunless as it is. Extreme stoner? Caustic sludge? The doom of mellows harshed? You call it whatever fucking genre you want — or better, don’t, with your too-cool ass — and I’ll march to the obsidian temple (that riff is about my pace these days) to break my skull open and bleed out the remnants of my brain on that ancient stone.

Bong Coffin on Facebook

Bong Coffin on Bandcamp

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Heavy blues rockers Child have booked a run of mostly-east-coast tour dates in their home country of Australia to support the recent release of their third album, Soul Murder (review here). That record has a bit of a temporal slip going on, since it was recorded at least largely in 2018 and only greets public ears now, but that’s still long enough for it to show progression from 2016’s Blueside (review here) — 2018’s I EP (review here) makes that seven-year stretch between LPs somewhat less mammoth — and if you haven’t heard it, god damn, the songs.

Headlined by a virtuoso performance from guitarist/vocalist Mathias Northway, and with the classic heavy rock rhythm section of bassist Danny Smith (since replaced by Rhys Kelly) and drummer Michael Lowe at its foundation, Soul Murder collects seven individual pieces with an unmitigated flow between them and while coming across as oh-you-know-nothin’-too-fancy casual on its face — not literally, the Nick Keller cover art is likewise gorgeous and epic — it harnesses a ’70s spirit through a presentation all its own.

It is quite an album, in other words, and if you didn’t hear it, I’d advise you hit play on the Bandcamp embed below and kiss a decent portion of your afternoon goodbye as you lose yourself in its dynamic sprawl. The tour dates, which are set for April and May, follow here, as posted on social media with some additional comment from Northway. And by the way, if you’re not from Oz or have never seen Bluey, a dunny is a toilet.

Here you go:

CHILD – Soul Murder Tour 2023

Says Mathias Northway (guitar/vocals): “After being lost at sea on a sinking ship there is no better feeling than seeing land. Especially when everyone is there waiting on the beach for you.”

“I’m comin’ around to use your dunny and drink your beers.”

TICKETS: https://linktr.ee/childtheband

April 8 Tanswells Hotel Beechworth VIC
April 14 The Barwon Club Geelong VIC
April 15 The Brunswick Ballroom Melbourne VIC
April 20 Mo’s Desert Clubhouse Gold Coast QLD
April 21 Bad Luck Brisbane QLD
April 22 Factory Floor Sydney NSW
April 24 UniBar Adelaide SA
April 28 SoundBar Capel Sound VIC
April 29 TBC
May 5 Transit Bar Canberra ACT
May 6 The Eastern Ballarat VIC

Child are:
Mathias Northway – guitar/vocals
Rhys Kelly – bass
Michael Lowe – drums

https://www.facebook.com/childtheband
https://www.instagram.com/childtheband/
https://childtheband.bandcamp.com
https://www.youtube.com/childtheband
http://www.childtheband.com

Child, Soul Murder (2023)

The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.

Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.

Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.

The Obelisk Questionnaire: Henry Bennett of ZONG

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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?

As a band, I guess we jam and write as a way to express ourselves and have fun. We often jam in a fairly open, improvised fashion, no expectations or judgements.

Our music has no vocals so it’s a real sonic “experiencial” type journey. I think it’s a way for us to tune out of everyday life. Similar in a lot of ways to trippin’ balls!

The three of us connect on a pretty unique musical level so I think it’s very satisfying for us to create & express “in the moment”. It can be meditative.

It’s also enjoyable to then be able to share that with others who also connect on the same level.

Describe your first musical memory.

Listening to Led Zeppelin in the car with mum!

Describe your best musical memory to date.

First thing to come to mind… Tripping to Ash Ra Tempel with my brother many years ago was pretty wild!

Seeing Black Sabbath live for their final tour here in Aus was very cool too. :)

When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?

Can’t think of any but probably too often.

Where do you feel artistic progression leads?

As a whole, hopefully to some sort of social, political, cultural & ultimately evolutionary progress.

How do you define success?

Subjective to the individual and comes in many forms. The important one must be happiness for humans as a whole?

What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?

My parents having sex comes to mind… but to be honest I’m not too bothered.

Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.

In musical terms we have always wanted to create an animated film/ album combo. Like Pink Floyd The Wall. Or at least an animated film clip would be dope!

What do you believe is the most essential function of art?

Hmmmm … to conjure thought? to express? … to just be?

I think anything more than that is probably getting too specific.

Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?

Spending time with my partner and my dog this holidays. :)

https://www.facebook.com/zongbrisbane/
http://www.instagram.com/zongband
https://zongband.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/CardinalFuzz/
cardinalfuzz.bigcartel.com/

https://www.instagram.com/littlecloudrecords/
https://www.facebook.com/littlecloudrecords/
http://littlecloudrec.com/

Zong, Astral Lore (2022)

Child are all-in on heavy blues. It’s been seven years since the release of their second album, 2016’s Blueside (review here), nine since they issued their 2014 self-titled debut (discussed here) and five even since their 2018 I EP (review here), but somehow when the Melbourne trio led by guitarist/vocalist Mathias Northway lock into the sweet flowing fuzz boogie of “Free and Humble” — also released as a single in 2020 — as the first of seven songs dug into classic heavy vibes, organic performance-capture and soul, time seems to matter much, much less. Soul Murder is a severe title — it was originally Soul Merda, which they were correct in changing — and to coincide with the once-again-stunning Nick Keller oil-on-canvas cover art playing off ‘The Creation of Adam,’ the returning lineup of Northway, bassist Danny Smith and drummer Michael Lowe push everything further in their sound.

The blues is bluer. The rock is heavier. The done-me-wrong woes wrought through the lyrics and the tales there of lessons hard-learned feel sincere in the telling, and the entire feel of Soul Murder is one of accomplishment front to back, having built on the first two albums (less the EP, but that too if you want) and continued their progression to a critical stage in the life cycle of the band; a third album realization of who they are, marked by songs that carry across emotion and heft regardless of volume, feeling purposeful even as they ‘keep it loose’ in terms of flow and use open space to emphasize a live feel in songs like “Standing on My Tail” — dig that bass after the three-minute mark — and “Soul Murder” itself, where the guitar takes a break for most of the verses early on and sets up a move into a going-way-out heavy jam stretched across the bulk of its five minutes, Northway vibrato’ing out sorrows as the band taps Sabbath-rooted nod not for the first or last time with before shifting into a feedback-layer-inclusive solo-section.

In comparison to Blueside, some of Soul Murder is more stark in its trades, not so much with “Free and Humble,” which shimmies a middle line of blues rock comfortably and with a rhythmic sleekness that’s a credit to Smith and Lowe even if so much of the record from that point on is highlighted by Northway‘s mastery on guitar and vocals, be it the soft noodling after the crash-in intro to “Trouble with a Capital ‘T'” and the improvised-sounding final moments of centerpiece “Feels Like Hell” or the especially Hendrixian blues lines he brings to “Standing on My Tail,” his can-sing delivery shifting slightly to follow-suit.

Dropping hints along the way of fine detailing like the distant echoes of “by now” at two minutes into “Free and Humble” or some handclaps worked in with Lowe‘s mellow-swinging snare in that same chorus and again later, even just the tones of the guitar, bass and drums as recorded — in 2018, at least in part — by Nao Anzai at Head Gap Studios, who also mixed and mastered, Soul Murder presents a multi-tiered experience, with dynamic and reach enough to warrant and reward close listens and an overarching groove on its face.

There’s progression in the patience of their delivery as well, holding together “Trouble with a Capital ‘T'” no less than Smith‘s bassline, as Child make it clear early on they’re going to take their time and that’s alright. Second behind “Free and Humble,” “Trouble with a Capital ‘T'” is expansive and purposefully placed as the first of three included longer songs, with the other two being the closing salvo of “Moment in Time” and “Coming up Trumps,” all over six minutes. Unlike their first two LPs, Child don’t touch the 10-minute mark on Soul Murder, and on average the individual cuts are shorter, but the band are deceptively efficient, seeming to bring each song to life from the silence at its start, leaving a trail of memorable riffs and leads behind them in “Standing on My Tail,” the funk-as-stoner midsection of “Soul Murder,” etc. en route to “Moment in Time,” which makes a point of its minimalism initially as if to leave room for the vibrant fuzz and weeping feedback that soon enough fills it, and “Coming up Trumps,” which at 8:13 is by no means the longest song the three-piece have ever done but is an epic just the same recalling “Dazed and Confused” in its affect and, in its heaviest stretches, lumber that feels born of the intro to “War Pigs.”

Structurally, most of Soul Murder works on builds, and by the time “Standing on My Tail” starts with its unrepentant lean into R&B crossover, Child make it clear where they’re headed, but the paths they take are varied and satisfying. And more over, fluid. That is to say, while there are definite points at which a pedal is clicked on and the distortion swells — “Moment in Time” at 3:22 and “Soul Murder” at 1:39 come to mind — the material isn’t necessarily relying on its impending ‘heavy part’ as a payoff, or limited either in speaking to one side or the other in their sound. This ultimately makes Soul Murder a more immersive listen and more complete-feeling album in fostering that aforementioned overarching groove as something that persists regardless of how loud a given stretch might be.

Perhaps stripping down some of the more psychedelic and jammier aspects of their style has let Child flourish in craft while not leaving a spontaneous/on-stage spirit behind, which would seem at least in listening to be the best of both worlds, hints of ethereality in some of the instrumental passages doing nothing to pull away from the emotive impact of Northway‘s vocals. Those are every bit worthy of the showcase they’re given in “Trouble with a Capital ‘T'” and “Standing on My Tail” on side A and provide a grounding effect as “Moment in Time” and “Coming up Trumps” shift more into jams, the former capping with amp hum and residual feedback and cymbal taps as if in direct precursor to the outright doom in the apex of the subsequent finale, which ends Soul Murder with an actually-satisfying big-rock finish, pulled out and held, twisted around and hinting that they’re going to drop back into the heavier roll just before the last wash enters its fade; damn near perfect. They make you believe it.

And that’s true of the record as a whole as well. I don’t know and won’t speculate on anyone’s life situation, but the blues on Soul Murder feels real in terms of channeling personal turmoil into accessible songwriting, and Northway‘s emergence as a frontman — which has been a plot thread for Child‘s work to this point — is a settled issue. There are parts where the songs seem to recede specifically so he can carry them — 30 seconds into the title-track, for example — and he does without fail each time, backed in the spirit of ’70s heavy by Smith and Lowe as the essential foundation of the power trio.

As much as one wonders what might cause Soul Murder to have been so long in arriving after being recorded half a decade ago, the results of the album are enough to just make one glad it arrived at all. I won’t try to predict their future either or delve into hyperbole of Child among the forefront of Australia’s ultra-packed and diverse heavy underground, but whatever comes of it after the fact, Soul Murder is a significant achievement on their part in living up to and surpassing the high standard set by their first two full-lengths. It is multifaceted in its growth, expressive, and genuine. Again, they are a band to make you believe, and one expects their testimony to win converts accordingly.

Child, Soul Murder (2023)

Child on Facebook

Child on Instagram

Child on Bandcamp

Child on YouTube

Child website

If the notion of Magnetic Eye Records signing an Australian band hasn’t already raised your eyebrows, go check out the sadly-defunct Horsehunter. Following in those significant footsteps is the Melbourne trio Oceanlord, who released their two-songer demo (review here) in 2020 and thereby began to carve a place for themselves in their crowded native scene, making an impression in the broader international underground as well via strong social media word of mouth. It was a hard release to argue with, and on the e’er slight chance you didn’t click that review link, I’ll tell you flat out that I saw no reason to try.

Oceanlord add further depth to the Magnetic Eye lineup, which in recent years has emerged as both diverse in aesthetic and unflinching in quality, with standout offerings last year from Ruby the Hatchet and Caustic Casanova — look out for that new Witch Ripper as well — to underscore the point. From Arthur Brown to Greenleaf to Heavy Temple, the label has amassed a roster of forward-thinking talent that’s less about adhering to genre norms than supporting stylistic individualism. I look forward to hearing how that ethic manifests when Oceanlord make their full-length debut presumably sometime later this year.

The PR wire has it like this:

OCEANLORD sign with Magnetic Eye Records

OCEANLORD have sealed their fate by singing a forbidding deal with Magnetic Eye Records. The tentacled Australian doom triumvirate will soon release their debut full-length via the eldritch label.

OCEANLORD comment: “From the shadows, we herald the release of our debut album through Magnetic Eye Records”, writes guitarist and singer Peter Willmott on behalf of his fellow cultists. “Get ready for a voyage into the abyss of cosmic terror. The release is imminent, we ready ourselves for a journey beyond the veil of reality.”

Jadd Shickler welcomes OCEANLORD: “By the great old ones, doom is often brutal and annihilating, yet some is also dark and bleak as well as wistful, melancholic, crushing and somehow also strangely uplifting”, the Magnetic Eye director writes. “Oceanlord are of that second type with their epic, haunting yarns that feel as old and inexorable as the sea. This label stakes its existence on pushing outward at the boundaries of our favorite sonic styles, and we’re extremely eager for our endlessly dedicated and enthusiastic supporters to embark on this exciting voyage into the unfathomable depths that Oceanlord explore.”

Line-up
Peter Willmott – guitar, vocals
Jason Ker – bass
Jon May – drums

https://www.facebook.com/oceanlordau
https://www.instagram.com/oceanlordau
https://oceanlord.bandcamp.com

http://store.merhq.com
http://magneticeyerecords.com/
https://www.facebook.com/MagneticEyeRecords

Oceanlord, Demo (2020)

Post-hardcore in its urgency, doomed in its slower stretch, full in tone in a way that works against expectationsfor a two-piece, metallic in its pointed aggression and with just an edge of Living Colour in its melody, the new single from Astrodeath emerges from its six minutes having brought together divergent styles with a fluidity and attitude that are undeniable. Set to issue on May 12 through Tuff Cuff Records in the duo’s native Australia and on the ubiquitous Heavy Psych Sounds in Europe, the band’s aptly-titled second album, Vol. II, is preceded by their 2019 self-titled debut and in addition to “Ceremonial Blood,” which you can hear below, a couple other album cuts have been previously posted as singles.

That tells me the release has been in the works for some time, as will happen these days. The below info comes from Bandcamp, and I post it with the full anticipation that a proper press release will be along about three minutes after I finish writing, so I might update what appears below (or I might’ve already, if you’re seeing this later; so it goes in linear time), but the track hit my inbox in a Bandcamp update from HPS, so I’m going with what I know. Simple creature, and all that.

Info follows:

Astrodeath – Vol. II

ALBUM PRESALE: https://www.heavypsychsounds.com/shop.htm#HPS264

USA PRESALE: https://www.heavypsychsounds.com/shop-usa.htm

ASTRODEATH are pleased to announce their brand-new album VOL. 2 is looming and will be available through Tuff Cuff Records in Australia and Heavy Psych Sounds Records in Europe.

Astrodeath will tour nationally in support of the release, leaving no stone unturned on their quest to bring sonic mayhem to audiences all over Australia.

VOL. 2 continues a mountainous sound borne of madness and revelation, ASTRODEATH report back from the precipice, bringing us haunting visions of a blind and indifferent universe and the hideous, mindless creations that lie in wait, insatiable in their desire to dominate and devour. Hailing from Cadigal Land in the Eora Nation (otherwise known as Sydney), singer/guitarist Tim Lancken and drummer Yoshi Hausler weave an otherworldly musical alchemy that belies their earthly origins and underpins the ritualistic hypnosis of Astrodeath’s furious and intimidating sound, a titanic reverberation that far exceeds the sum of its twin parts.

SAYS THE BAND:

“Ceremonial blood is a sacrificial offering of RIFF to our reptilian overlords, Cut from our sophomore LP Vol.2 and released worldwide through Heavy Psych Sounds and Tuff Cuff records in Australia. It is potentially our heaviest slab, Written as a soundtrack to our second Comic book (Illustrated by Glenno Smith), Ceremonial Blood will flow deep for fans of Sci-fi, Horror and Head banging. In the accompanying music video (Produced by John Flaws) I butcher my neighbour with a samurai sword in Yoshi’s bathtub and eat his leg….you’ll just have to watch it.. We are both HEAVILY PSYCHED to be sending Ceremonial blood out worldwide! Horns Up!”

1. Permafrost
2. Leviathan Rising
3. Red Weed
4. Ceremonial Blood
5. Neo Nephilim
6. Golden Death Machine
7. Invasion
8. The End

Releases May 12, 2023.

ASTRODEATH is:
Tim Lancken – guitar/vocals
Yoshi Hausler – drums

http://www.facebook.com/astrodeathband
https://instagram.com/astrodeathband
https://astrodeath.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/tuffcuffrecords/
https://www.instagram.com/tuffcuffrecords/
https://www.tuffcuffrecords.com/

heavypsychsoundsrecords.bandcamp.com
www.heavypsychsounds.com
https://www.facebook.com/HEAVYPSYCHSOUNDS/

Astrodeath, “Ceremonial Blood” official video

Astrodeath, Vol. II (2023)