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: Casey Kurec of Bog Mönster & Riff Fist

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

I’m a guitarist. My parents encouraged me to learn an instrument from a young age and while I spent several years learning the acoustic guitar as a child, I never enjoyed the typical classical or folk music you were generally taught as a beginner back then. It wasn’t until I was 15 and first heard Black Sabbath that I actually wanted to be a guitarist. I dug out my mum’s old classical and re-taught myself to play by learning a bunch of Iommi riffs and never looked back!

Describe your first musical memory.

My Dad had a huge vinyl collection and as a child I remember my parents regularly listening to the likes of Bob Marley and Jimi Hendrix. The first record I ever owned though was a copy of the Inspector Gadget theme music on 12” vinyl that I got given for my 6th birthday.

Describe your best musical memory to date.

Ah so many! Traveling to Europe and going to festivals like Roadburn or Desertfest for the first time was definitely an incredible experience I’ll never forget and lead to meeting lifelong friends. While Melbourne, Australia has a thriving heavy music scene, the vast distances between major cities means that touring, both for Australian and International bands can be difficult and costly. Pre-pandemic, we did always have a regular stream of international touring acts but going to Roadburn for the first time and seeing so many amazing bands, all in the one place and so many stoner/doom/sludge and metal fans congregating together was eye opening. It blew my mind that here I was, an Australian at a festival in the Netherlands for a sub-sub-culture of heavy music, with people from Germany, the USA, Belgium, France, Russia, the UK and so many other countries and we all looked the same, dressed the same and sang along to the same classic tunes at the afterparty discos!

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

So as mentioned above, I discovered Sabbath at 15 and instantly recognised them as objectively the greatest band to ever exist. In my mind, you either acknowledged Sabbath were the best band in the world or you probably just never heard them. I couldn’t fathom that people had heard “War Pigs,” for instance, and not immediately recognised it as an incredible and unequaled piece of art. It took me years to come around to the understanding that just because I had that emotional (even spiritual) connection to Sabbath’s music, others (even other heavy music fans) just had a different experience. And that’s fine! As I’ve gotten older, I’m definitely embarrassed about some of the elitist musical beliefs I have held. Plus I just don’t care anymore. Like what you wanna like. It’s super lame to judge anyone for any kind of taste, be it music, other forms of entertainment or lifestyle choices.

Where do you feel artistic progression leads?

This is a tough one. On one hand, I feel that as you progress, you learn more and more about your artform and increase your skills and mastery of the field, however this does not necessarily lead to your art being any ‘better’ for lack of a better word. So many successful bands and musicians artistically peak much earlier in their careers and while their playing abilities or technical songwriting skills may improve, the magic is gone and their later work is flat or boring. I’m thinking of bands like Metallica or Qotsa. I’m sure Hetfield is a million times better guitarist now than he was 30 years ago but is he a better artist? Possibly strictly in terms of as a performer, but in terms of releasing artistically interesting music, I’m sure many people would say no. So I guess artistic progression can lead to mastery of your artform but it can also lead to complacency, especially when experiencing success and an earlier stage.

How do you define success?

I think as I’ve gotten older, I just measure success in being happy and being able to do the things that bring me happiness and joy. As a musician, you want others to like your music but to be honest, I’d consider a song to be a success if I was happy with the end product, regardless of if anyone else listened to it or not. Maybe my answer would change if I was in a majorly successful band bringing in the big bucks haha.

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

Hmmm, another tough one…. So there is this classic Australian 70’s band called Blackfeather who released an amazing early 70’s heavy psychedelic prog album called ‘At the Mountains of Madness’. Around ten years ago, they performed a reunion show so I went along with (Riff Fist Bassist/Singer) Cozza as we both discovered the band together on an old mix tape Coz had and were big fans. Well, we walked into the Corner Hotel (a venue in Melbourne where bands like Sleep and Boris have played) and should have known something was up when there were tables and chairs set up all over the venue floor and in front of the stage. We were also the only people there under the age of about 60. Anyway, the band (which I think was just the singer as the only original member) played almost nothing off the album we loved and to make things worse, they played with not a single ounce of distortion, fuzz or overdrive on the guitars. It was the cleanest guitar tone I’ve ever heard, fender strats through super clean fender amps which was completely at odds with the heavy 70’s overdrive I was expecting. The nail in the coffin was when they finally played their classic ‘Seasons of Change’ and the singer decided that rather than stick to the beautiful original melody, he’d adlib the shit out of it. Oooff! It was awful, I definitely wish I’d kept my memories of Blackfeather to just listening to the classic record.

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

A boardgame! The lyrics and world of Bog Monster are perfect for adapting to some kind of board game or pen and paper RPG. We’ve talked about one day releasing a concept style album with an accompanying game or game system. Maybe the gatefold vinyl folds out to a battle map and you get a bunch of Bog Monster miniatures with the deluxe edition or something like that? We’re all a bunch of nerds so I think something like this would be super fun and I don’t really know of any other bands that have done this.

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

Hmmm, I don’t know… to exist? hahahaha. I was going to say to entertain but that’s definitely not the point of some art. I guess to communicate something; feelings, messages, sensations, emotions, ideas. But that’s probably not true for all art either. I guess it’s different for every artist and every piece of art. There are no rules and that’s what makes art so special.

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

Traveling again. Since the pandemic shut down international travel, it’s yet to get back to the same level of accessibility and affordability we enjoyed for most of the past decade. I haven’t been to the US since 2011 or to Europe since 2017 and I can’t wait to catch up with friends I haven’t seen in years once I am able to.

https://www.facebook.com/bogmonsterband
https://open.spotify.com/artist/71RA44WSDGNyID1a8bmBZ1
https://bogmonster.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/RiffFist/
https://rifffist.bandcamp.com/
http://www.rifffist.com/

Bog Mönster, Hell is Full (2021)

Riff Fist, King Tide (2017)

We press on, until the end, though tired and long since out of adjectival alternatives to ‘heavy.’ The only way out is through, or so I’m told. Therefore, we go through.

Morale? Low. Brain, exhausted. The shit? Hit the fan like three days ago. The walls, existentially speaking, are a mess. Still, we go through.

Two more days to go. Thanks for reading.

Winter 2023 Quarterly Review #81-90:

Farflung, Like Drones in Honey

No question Farflung are space rock. It’s not up for debate. They are who they are and on their 10th full-length, Like Drones in Honey (on Sulatron, which suits both them and label), they remain Farflung. But whether it’s the sweet ending of the “Baile an Doire” or the fuzz riffing beneath the sneer of “King Fright” and the careening garage strum of “Earthmen Look Alike to Me,” the album offers a slew of reminders that as far out as Farflung get — and oh my goodness, they go — the long-running Los Angeles outfit were also there in the mid and late ’90s as heavy rock and, in California particularly, desert rock took shape. Of course, opener “Acid Drain” weaves itself into the fabric of the universe via effects blowout and impulse-engine chug, and after that finish in “Baile an Doire,” they keep the experimentalism going on the backwards/forwards piano/violin of “Touch of the Lemmings Kiss” and the whispers and underwater rhythm of closer “A Year in Japan,” but even in the middle of the pastoral “Tiny Cities Made of Broken Teeth” or in the second half of the drifting “Dludgemasterpoede,” they’re space and rock, and it’s worth not forgetting about the latter even as you blast off with weirdo rocket fuel. Like their genre overall, like Sulatron, Farflung are underrated. It is lucky that doesn’t slow their outbound trip in the slightest.

Farflung on Facebook

Sulatron Records webstore

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Neptunian Maximalism, Finis Gloriae Mundi

Whether you want to namedrop one or another Coltrane or the likes of Amon Düül or Magma or whoever else, the point is the same: Neptunian Maximalism are not making conventional music. Yeah, there’s rhythm, meter, even some melody, but the 66-minute run of the recorded-on-stage Finis Gloriae Mundi isn’t defined by songs so much as the pieces that make up its consuming entirety. As a group, the Belgians’ project isn’t to write songs to much as to manifest an expression of an idea; in this case, apparently, the end of the world. A given stretch might drone or shred, meditate in avant-jazz or move-move-move-baby in heavy kosmiche push, but as they make their way to the two-part culmination “The Conference of the Stars,” the sense of bringing-it-all-down is palpable, and so fair enough for their staying on theme and offering “Neptunian’s Raga Marwa” as a hint toward the cycle of ending and new beginnings, bright sitar rising out of low, droning, presented-as-empty space. For most, their extreme take on prog and psych will simply be too dug in, too far from the norm, and that’s okay. Neptunian Maximalism aren’t so much trying to be universal as to try to commune with the universe itself, wherever that might exist if it does at all. End of the world? Fine. Let it go. Another one will come along eventually.

Neptunian Maximalism on Facebook

I, Voidhanger Records on Bandcamp

Utech Records store

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Near Dusk, Through the Cosmic Fog

Four years after their 2018 self-titled debut (review here), Denver heavy rock and rollers Near Dusk gather eight songs across and smooth-rolling, vinyl-minded 37 minutes for Through the Cosmic Fog, which takes its title from the seven-and-a-half-minute penultimate instrumental “Cosmic Fog,” a languid but not inactive jam that feels especially vital for the character it adds among the more straightforward songs earlier in the record — the rockers, as it were — that comprise side A: “The Way it Goes,” “Spliff ’em All,” and so on. “Cosmic Fog” isn’t side B’s only moment of departure, as the drumless guitar-exploration-into-acoustic “Roses of Durban” and the slower rolling finisher “Slab City” fill out the expansion set forth with the bluesy solo in the back end of “EMFD,” but the strength of craft they show on the first four songs isn’t to be discounted either for the fullness or the competence of their approach. The three-piece of Matthew Orloff, Jon Orloff and Kellen McInerney know where they’re coming from in West Coast-style heavy, not-quite-party, rock, and it’s the strength of the foundation they build early in the opening duo and “The Damned” and “Blood for Money,” that lets them reach outward late, allowing Through the Cosmic Fog to claim its space as a classically structured, immediately welcome heavy rock LP.

Near Dusk on Facebook

Near Dusk on Bandcamp

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Simple Forms, Simple Forms EP

The 2023 self-titled debut EP from Portland, Oregon’s Simple Forms collects four prior singles issued over the course of 2021 and 2022 into one convenient package, and even if you’ve been keeping up with the trickle of material from the band that boasts members of YOB, (now) Hot Victory, Dark Castle and Norska, hearing the tracks right next to each other does change the context somewhat, as with the darker turn of “From Weathered Hand” after “Reaching for the Shadow” or the way that leadoff and “Together We Will Rest” seem to complement each other in the brightness of the forward guitar, a kind of Euro-style proggy noodling that reminds of The Devil’s Blood or something more goth, transposed onto a forward-pushing Pacific Northwestern crunch. The hints of black metal in the riffing of “The Void Beneath” highlight the point that this is just the start for guitarists Rob Shaffer and Dustin Rieseberg, bassist Aaron Rieseberg and grunge-informed frontman Jason Oswald (who also played drums and synth here), but already their sprawl is nuanced and directed toward individualism. I don’t know what their plans might be moving forward, but if the single releases didn’t highlight their potential, certainly the four songs all together does. A 19-minute sampler of what might be, if it will be.

Simple Forms on Facebook

Simple Forms on Bandcamp

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Lybica, Lybica

Probably safe to call Lybica a side-project for Justin Foley, since it seems unlikely to start taking priority over his position as drummer in metalcore mainstays Killswitch Engage anytime soon, but the band’s self-titled debut offers a glimpse of some other influences at work. Instrumental in its entirety, it comes together with Foley leading on guitar joined by bassist Doug French and guitarist Joey Johnson (both of Gravel Kings) and drummer Chris Lane (A Brilliant Lie), and sure, there’s some pretty flourish of guitar, and some heavier, more direct chugging crunch — “Palatial” in another context might have a breakdown riff, and the subsequent “Oktavist” is more directly instru-metal — but even in the weighted stretch at the culmination of “Ferment,” and in the tense impression at the beginning of seven-minute closer “Charyou,” the vibe is more in line with Russian Circles than Foley‘s main outfit, and clearly that’s the point. “Ascend” and “Resonance” open the album with pointedly non-metallic atmospheres, and they, along with the harder-hitting cuts and “Manifest,” “Voltaic” and “Charyou,” which bring the two sides together, set up a dynamic that, while familiar in this initial stage, is both satisfying in impact and more aggressive moments while immersive in scope.

Lybica on Facebook

Lybica on Bandcamp

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Bird, Walpurgis

Just as their moniker might belong to some lost-classic heavy band from 1972 one happens upon in a record store, buys for the cover, and subsequently loves, so too does Naples four-piece Bird tap into proto-metal vibes on their latest single Walpurgis. And that’s not happenstance. While their production isn’t quite tipped over into pure vintage-ism, it’s definitely organic, and they’ve covered the likes of Rainbow, Uriah Heep and Deep Purple, so while “Walpurgis” itself leans toward doom in its catchy and utterly reasonable three-plus minutes, there’s no doubt Bird know where their nest is, stylistically speaking. Given a boost through release by Olde Magick Records, the single-songer follows 2021’s The Great Beast From the Sea EP, which proffered a bit more burl and modern style in its overarching sound, so it could be that as they continue to grow they’re learning a bit more patience in their approach, as “Walpurgis” is nestled right into a tempo that, while active enough to still swing, is languid just the same in its flow, with maybe a bit more rawness in the separation of the guitar, bass, drums and organ. Most importantly, it suits the song, and piques curiosity as to where Bird go next, as any decent single should.

Bird on Facebook

Olde Magick Records on Bandcamp

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Pseudo Mind Hive, Eclectica

Without getting into which of them does what where — because they switch, and it’s complicated, and there’s only so much room — the core of the sound for Melbourne-based four-piece Pseudo Mind Hive is in has-chops boogie rock, but that’s a beginning descriptor, not an end. It doesn’t account for the psych-surf-fuzz in two-minute instrumental opener “Hot Tooth” on their Eclectica EP, for example, or the what-if-Queens–of–the–Stone–Age-kept-going-like-the-self-titled “Moon Boots” that follows on the five-song offering. “You Can Run” has a fuzzy shuffle and up-strummed chug that earns the accompanying handclaps like Joan Jett, while “This Old Tree” dares past the four-minute mark with its scorching jive, born out of a smoother start-stop fuzz verse with its own sort of guitar antics, and “Coming Down,” well, doesn’t at first, but does give way soon enough to a dreamier psychedelic cast and some highlight vocal melody before it finds itself awake again and already running, tense in its builds and overlaid high-register noises, which stand out even in the long fade. Blink and you’ll miss it as it dashes by, all momentum and high-grade songcraft, but that’s alright. It does fine on repeat listens as well, which obviously is no coincidence.

Pseudo Mind Hive on Facebook

Copper Feast Records website

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Oktas, The Finite and the Infinite

On. Slaught. Call it atmospheric sludge, call it post-metal; I sincerely doubt Philadelphia’s Oktas give a shit. Across the four songs and 36 minutes of the two-bass-no-guitar band’s utterly bludgeoning debut album, The Finite and the Infinite, the band — bassist/vocalist Bob Stokes, cellist Agnes Kline, bassist Carl Whitlock and drummer Ron Macauley — capture a severity of tone and a range that goes beyond loud/quiet tradeoffs into the making of songs that are memorable while not necessarily delivering hooks in the traditional verse/chorus manner. It’s the cello that stands out as opener “Collateral Damage” plods to its finish — though Macauley‘s drum fills deserve special mention — and even as “Epicyon” introduces the first of the record’s softer breaks, it is contrasted in doing so by a section of outright death metal onslaught so that the two play back and forth before eventually joining forces in another dynamic and crushing finish. Tempo kick is what’s missing thus far and “Light in the Suffering” hits that mark immediately, finding blackened tremolo on the other side of its own extended cello-led subdued stretch, coming to a head just before the ending so that finale “A Long, Dreamless Sleep” can start with its Carl Sagan sample about how horrible humans are (correct), and build gracefully over the next few minutes before saying screw it and diving headfirst into cyclical chug and sprinting extremity. Somebody sign this band and press this shit up already.

Oktas on Facebook

Oktas on Bandcamp

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Scream of the Butterfly, The Grand Stadium

This is a rock and roll band, make no mistake. Berlin’s Scream of the Butterfly draw across decades of influence, from ’60s pop and ’70s heavy to ’90s grunge, ’00s garage and whatever the hell’s been going on the last 10-plus years to craft an amalgamated sound that is cohesive thanks largely to the tightness of their performances — energetic, sure, but they make it sound easy — the overarching gotta-get-up urgency of their push and groove, and the current of craft that draws it all together. They’ve got 10 songs on The Grand Stadium, which is their third album, and they all seem to be trying to outdo each other in terms of hooks, electricity, vibe, and so on. Even the acoustic-led atmosphere-piece “Now, Then and Nowhere” leaves a mark, to say nothing of the much, much heavier “Sweet Adeleine” or the sunshine in “Dead End Land” or the bluesy shove of “Ain’t No Living.” Imagine time as a malleable thing and some understanding of how the two-minute “Say Your Name to Me” can exist in different styles simultaneously, be classic and forward thinking, spare and spacious. And I don’t know what’s going on with all the people talking in “Hallway of a Thousand Eyes,” but Scream of the Butterfly make it easy to dig anyway and remind throughout of the power that can be realized when a band is both genuinely multifaceted and talented songwriters. Scary stuff, that.

Scream of the Butterfly on Facebook

Scream of the Butterfly on Bandcamp

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Holz, Holz

Based in Kassel with lyrics in their native German, Holz are vocalist/guitarist Leonard Riegel, bassist Maik Blümke and drummer Martin Nickel, and on their self-titled debut (released by Tonzonen), they tear with vigor into a style that’s somewhere between noise rock, stoner heavy and rawer punk, finding a niche for themselves that feels barebones with the dry — that is, little to no effects — vocal treatment and a drum sound that cuts through the fuzz that surrounds on early highlight “Bitte” and the later, more noisily swaying “Nichts.” The eight-minute “Garten” is a departure from its surroundings with a lengthy fuzz jam in its midsection — not as mellow as you’re thinking; the drums remain restless and hint toward the resurgence to come — while “Zerstören” reignites desert rock riffing to its own in-the-rehearsal-room-feeling purposes. Intensity is an asset there and at various other points throughout, but there’s more to Holz than ‘go’ as the rolling “50 Meilen Geradeaus” and the swing-happy, bit-o’-melody-and-all “Dämon” showcase, but when they want to, they’re ready and willing to stomp into heavier tones, impatient thrust, or as in the penultimate “Warten,” a little bit of both. Not everybody goes on a rampage their first time out, but it definitely suits Holz to wreck shit in such a fashion.

Holz on Facebook

Tonzonen Records store

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In many ways, this is my favorite kind of Quarterly Review day. I always place things more or less as I get them, and let the days fill up randomly, but there are different types that come out of that. Some are heavier on riffs, some (looking at you, Monday) are more about atmosphere, and some are all over the place. That’s this. There’s no getting in a word rut — “what’s another way to say ‘loud and fuzzy?'” — when the releases in question don’t sound like each other.

As we move past the halfway point of the first week of this double-wide Quarterly Review, 100 total acts/offerings to be covered, that kind of thing is much appreciated on my end. Keeps the mind limber, as it were. Let’s roll.

Winter 2023 Quarterly Review #21-30:

White Hills, The Revenge of Heads on Fire

The narrative — blessings and peace upon it — goes that White Hills stumbled on an old hard drive with 2007’s Heads on Fire‘s recording files on it, recovered them, and decided it was time to flesh out the original album some 15 years after the fact, releasing The Revenge of Heads on Fire through their own Heads on Fire Records imprint in fashion truer to the record’s original concept. Who would argue? Long-established freaks as they are, can’t White Hills basically do whatever the hell they want and it’ll be at the very least interesting? Sure enough, the 11-song starburster they’ve summoned out of the ether of memory is lysergic and druggy and sprawling through Dave W. and Ego Sensation‘s particular corner of heavy psychedelia and space rocks, “Visions of the Past, Present and Future” sounding no less vital for the passing of years as they’re still on a high temporal shift, riding a cosmic ribbon that puts “Speed Toilet” where “Revenge of Speed Toilet” once was in reverse sequeling and is satisfyingly head-spinning whether or not you ever heard the original. That is to say, context is nifty, but having your brain melted is better, and White Hills might screw around an awful lot, but they’re definitely not screwing around. You heard me.

White Hills on Facebook

White Hills on Bandcamp

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Dystopian Future Movies, War of the Ether

Weaving into and out of spoken word storytelling and lumbering riffy largesse, nine-minute opener and longest track (immediate points) “She Up From the Drombán Hill” has a richly atmospheric impact on what follows throughout Dystopian Future Movies‘ self-issued third album, War of the Ether, the residual feedback cutting to silence ahead of a soft beginning for “Critical Mass” as guitarist/vocalist Caroline Cawley pairs foreboding ambience with noise rocking payoffs, joined by her Church of the Cosmic Skull bandmate Bill Fisher on bass/drums and Rafe Dunn on guitar for eight songs that owe some of their root to ’90s-era alt heavy but have grown into something of their own, as demonstrated in the willfully overwhelming apex of “The Walls of Filth and Toil” or the dare-a-hook ending of the probably-about-social-media “The Veneer” just prior. The LP runs deeper as it unfurls, each song setting forth on its own quiet start save for the more direct “License of Their Lies” and offering grim but thoughtful craft for a vision of dark heavy rock true both to the band’s mission and the album’s troubled spirit. Closer “A Decent Class of Girl” rolls through volume swells in what feels like a complement to “She Up From the Drombán Hill,” but its bookending wash only highlights the distance the audience has traveled alongside Cawley and company. Engrossing.

Dystopian Future Movies on Facebook

Dystopian Future Movies store

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Basalt Shrine, From Fiery Tongues

Though in part defined by the tectonic megasludge of “In the Dirt’s Embrace,” Filipino four-piece Basalt Shrine are no more beholden to that on From Fiery Tongues than they are the prior opening drone “Thawed Slag Blood,” the post-metallic soundscaping of the title-track, the open-spaced minimalism of closer “The Barren Aftermath” or the angular chug at the finish of centerpiece “Adorned for Loathing Pigs.” Through these five songs, the Manila-based outfit plunge into the darker, denser and more extreme regions of sludgy stylizations, and as they’ve apparently drawn the notice of US-based Electric Talon Records and sundry Euro imprints, safe to say the secret is out. Fair enough. The band guide “From Fiery Tongues,” song and album, with an entrancing churn that is as much about expression as impact, and the care they take in doing so — even at their heaviest and nastiest — isn’t to be understated, and especially as their debut, their ambition manifests itself in varied ways nearly all of which bode well for coming together as the crux of an innovative style. Not predicting anything, but while From Fiery Tongues doesn’t necessarily ring out with a hopeful viewpoint for the world at large, one can only listen to it and be optimistic about the prospects for the band themselves.

Basalt Shrine on Facebook

Electric Talon Records store

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Psychonaut, Violate Consensus Reality

Post-metallic in its atmosphere, there’s no discounting the intensity Belgium trio Psychonaut radiate on their second album, Violate Consensus Reality (on Pelagic). The prog-metal noodling of “All Your Gods Have Gone” and the singing-turns-to-screaming methodology on the prior opener “A Storm Approaching” begin the 52-minute eight-tracker with a fervency that affects everything that comes after, and as “Age of Separation” builds into its full push ahead of the title-track, which holds tension in its first half and shows why in its second, a halfway-there culmination before the ambient and melodic “Hope” turns momentarily from some of the harsher insistence before it, a summary/epilogue for the first platter of the 2LP release. The subsequent “Interbeing” is black metal reimagined as modern prog — flashes of Enslaved or Amorphis more than The Ocean or Mastodon, and no complaints — and the procession from “Hope” through “Interbeing” means that the onslaught of “A Pacifist’s Guide to Violence,” all slam and controlled plunder, is an apex of its own before the more sprawling, 12-minute capper “Towards the Edge,” which brings guest appearances from Brutus‘ Stefanie Mannaerts and the most esteemed frontman in European post-metal, Colin H. van Eeckhout of Amenra, whose band Psychonaut admirably avoid sounding just like. That’s not often the case these days.

Psychonaut on Facebook

Pelagic Records on Bandcamp

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Robot God, Worlds Collide

If you’re making your way through this post, skimming for something that looks interesting, don’t discount Sydney, Australia’s Robot God on account of their kinda-generic moniker. After solidifying — moltenifying? — their approach to longform-fuzz on their 2020 debut, Silver Buddha Dreaming, the three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Raff Iacurto, bassist/vocalist Matt Allen and drummer Tim Pritchard offer the four tracks of their sophomore LP, Worlds Collide, through Kozmik Artifactz in an apparent spirit of resonance, drawing familiar aspects of desert-style heavy rock out over songs that feel exploratory even as they’re born of recognizable elements. “Sleepwalking” (11:25) sets a broad landscape and the melody over the chugger riff in the second half of “Ready to Launch” (the shortest inclusion at 7:03) floats above it smoothly, while “Boogie Man” (11:24) pushes over the edge of the world and proceeds to (purposefully) tumble loosely downward in tempo from there, and the closing title-track (11:00) departs from its early verses along a jammier course, still plotted, but clearly open to the odd bit of happy-accidentalism. It’s a niche that seems difficult to occupy, and a difficult balance to strike between hooking the listener with a riff and spacing out, but Robot God mostly avoid the one-or-the-other trap and create something of their own from both sides; reminiscent of… wait for it… worlds colliding. Don’t skip it.

Robot God on Facebook

Kozmik Artifactz store

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AAWKS, Heavy on the Cosmic

Released in June 2022 and given a late-in-the-year vinyl issue seemingly on the strength of popular demand alone, AAWKS‘ debut full-length, Heavy on the Cosmic sets itself forth with the immersive, densely-fuzzed nodder riff and stoned vocal of longest track (immediate points) “Beyond the Sun,” which finds start-with-longest-song complement on side B’s “Electric Traveller” (rare double points). Indeed there’s plenty to dig about the eight-song outing, from the boogie in “Sunshine Apparitions,” the abiding vibe of languid grunge and effects-laced chicanery that pervade the crashouts of “The Woods” to the memorable, slow hook-craft of “All is Fine.” Over on side B, the momentum early in “Electric Traveller” rams headfirst into its own slowdown, while “Space City” reinforces the no-joke tonality and Elephant Tree-style heavy/melodic blend before the penultimate mostly-instrumental “Star Collider” resolves itself like Floor at half-speed and closer “Peeling Away” lives up to its title with a departure of psychedelic soloing and final off-we-go loops. The word-of-mouth hype around AAWKS was and is significant, and the Ontario-based four-piece tender three-dimensional sound to justify it, the record too brief at 39 minutes to actually let the listener get lost while providing multiple opportunities for headphone escapism. A significant first LP.

AAWKS on Facebook

AAWKS on Bandcamp

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Smokes of Krakatau, Smokes of Krakatau

The core methodology of Polish trio Smokes of Krakatau across their self-titled debut seems to be to entrance their audience and then blindside them with a riffy punch upside the head. Can’t argue if it works, which it does, right from the gradual unfurling of 10-minute instrumental opener “Absence of Light” before the chunky-style riff of “GrassHopper” lumbers into the album’s first vocals, delivered with a burl that reminds of earlier Clutch. There are two more extended tracks tucked away at the end — “Septic” (10:07) and “Kombajn Bizon” (11:37) — but before they get there, “GrassHopper” begins a movement across four songs that brings the band to arguably their most straightforward piece of all, the four-minute “Carousel,” as though the ambient side of their persona was being drained out only to return amid the monolithic lumber that pays off the build in “Septic.” It’s a fascinating whole-album progression, but it works and it flows right unto the bluesy reach of “Kombajn Bizon,” which coalesces around a duly massive lurch in its last minutes. It’s a simplification to call them ‘stoner doom,’ but that’s what they are nonetheless, though the manner in which they present their material is as distinguishing a factor as that material itself in the listening experience. The band are not done growing, but if you let their songs carry you, you won’t regret going where they lead.

Smokes of Krakatau on Facebook

Smokes of Krakatau on Bandcamp

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Carrier Wave, Carrier Wave

Is it the riff-filled land that awaits, or the outer arms of the galaxy itself? Maybe a bit of both on Bellingham, Washington-based trio Carrier Wave‘s four-song self-titled debut, which operates with a reverence for the heft of its own making that reminds of early YOB without trying to ape either Mike Scheidt‘s vocal or riffing style. That works greatly to the benefit of three-piece — guitarist/vocalist James Myers, bassist/vocalist Taber Wilmot, drummer Joe Rude — who allow some raucousness to transfuse in “Skyhammer” (shortest song at 6:53) while surrounding that still-consuming breadth with opener “Cosmic Man” (14:01), “Monolithic Memories” (11:19) and the subsequent finale “Evening Star” (10:38), a quiet guitar start to the lead-and-longest track (immediate points) barely hinting at the deep tonal dive about to take place. Tempo? Mostly slow. Space? Mostly dark and vast. Ritual? Vital, loud and awaiting your attendance. There’s crush and presence and open space, surges, ebbs, flows and ties between earth and ether that not every band can or would be willing to make, and much to Carrier Wave‘s credit, at 42 minutes, they engage a kind of worldmaking through sound that’s psychedelic even as it builds solid walls of repetitive riffing. Not nasty. Welcoming, and welcome in itself accordingly.

Carrier Wave on Facebook

Carrier Wave on Bandcamp

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Stash, Through Rose Coloured Glasses

With mixing/mastering by Chris Fielding (Conan, etc.), the self-released first full-length from Tel Aviv’s Stash wants nothing for a hard-landing thud of a sound across its nine songs/45 minutes. Through Rose Coloured Glasses has a kind of inherent cynicism about it, thanks to the title and corresponding David Paul Seymour cover art, and its burl — which goes over the top in centerpiece “No Real” — is palpable to a defining degree. There’s a sense of what might’ve happened if C.O.C. had come from metal instead of punk rock, but one way or the other, Stash‘s grooves remain mostly throttled save for the early going of the penultimate “Rebirth.” The shove is marked and physical, and the tonal purpose isn’t so much to engulf the listener with weight as to act as the force pushing through from one song to the next, each one — “Suits and Ties,” “Lie” and certainly the opener “Invite the Devil for a Drink” — inciting a sense of movement, speaking to American Southern heavy without becoming entirely adherent to it, finding its own expression through roiling, chugging brashness. But there’s little happenstance in it — another byproduct of a metallic foundation — and Stash stay almost wholly clearheaded while they crash through your wall and proceed to break all the shit in your house, sonically speaking.

Stash on Facebook

Stash on Bandcamp

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Lightsucker, Stonemoon

Though it opens serene enough with birdsong and acoustic guitar on “Intro(vert,” the bulk of Lightsucker‘s second LP, Stonemoon is more given to a tumult of heavy motion, drawing together elements of atmospheric sludge and doom with shifts between heavy rock groove and harder-landing heft. And in “Pick Your God,” a little bit of death metal. An amalgam, then. So be it. The current that unites the Finnish four-piece’s material across Stonemoon is unhinged sludge rock that, in “Lie,” “Land of the Dead” and the swinging “Mob Psychosis” reminds of some of Church of Misery‘s shotgun-blues chaos, but as the careening “Guayota” and the deceptively steady push of “Justify” behind the madman vocals demonstrate, Lightsucker‘s ambitions aren’t so simply encapsulated. So much the better for the listening experience of the 35-minute/eight-song entirety, as from “Intro(vert)” through the suitably pointy snare hits of instrumental closer “Stalagmites,” Lightsucker remain notably unpredictable as they throw elbows and wreak havoc from one song to the next, the ruined debris of genre strewn about behind as if to leave a trail for you to follow after, which, if you can actually keep up with their changes, you might just do.

Lightsucker on Facebook

Lightsucker on Bandcamp

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No doubt their signing with Blues Funeral will mean that their next outing will be the first exposure a lot of listeners have to Jack Harlon and the Dead Crows, so forgive me if I’m a little one-eyebrow-up at it being a covers record. Yeah, I have no doubt the Melbourne heavy desert-psych rockers can put their own spin on tunes from Bauhaus and Melvins, My Bloody Valentine and Joy Division, and so on — they prove it with God‘s “My Pal” as the first single — but it just seems like curious place to start.

I’m hopeful that the band’s first two albums, 2018’s Hymns and 2021’s The Magnetic Ridge (review here), will see international reissue or at very least a new push in distribution as a result of the signing, and if Hail to the Underground is a way for an expanded audience to get on board in the meantime, that hardly seems like something to complain about, perhaps least of all for it being a less-expected way to go. Okay, I think I just talked myself into being cool with it. That didn’t take long.

Here we go to the old PR wire:

Apocalyptic desert psych unit JACK HARLON & THE DEAD CROWS to release new album on Blues Funeral Recordings; first video and preorder up!

Melbourne’s psychedelic fuzz rockers JACK HARLON & THE DEAD CROWS share the first single and video taken from their forthcoming third album “Hail to the Underground”, to be issued on February 17th through Blues Funeral Recordings. Watch their fire-driven new video for “My Pal” right now!

As Australia began a series of flash pandemic lockdowns in early 2021, Melbourne psychedelic fuzz rock band Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows’ prolific frontman Tim Coutts-Smith began experimenting with home recording some of his favorite old songs. This rabbit-hole deep-dive eventually led him to bring the fans in on the project, with a social media post inviting suggestions of old underground songs they’d like to hear “Harlon-ified”.

The result is ‘Hail to the Underground,’ a collection of renditions by Jack Harlon & The Dead Crows selected for their musical importance and personal meaning, with the general throughline being that none of the original artists are household names. Filtered heavily through the spaced-out psychedelia of Jack Harlon’s inimitable style, this fuzz-drenched, genre-crossing love letter includes songs by under-the-radar icons like Bauhaus, God, Butthole Surfers, Joy Division, The Melvins, and more.

Watch Jack Harlon & The Crows new video “My Pal”

Listen to the song on all streaming platforms
https://lnk.to/jackharlonpal

About the cover, guitarist and vocalist Tim Coutts-Smith comments: “The debut cover is a tribute to the Australian band GOD, who formed in 1986 and released the song ‘My Pal’ in 1988. The song is seen as a national treasure by a lot of alternative Aussie bands with it being covered by artists such as Magic Dirt, Violent Soho and Peabody. Our band put a call out to our fans to ask which songs they would like performed in our sound. We received an overwhelming response requesting we cover ‘My Pal’. I’ve always loved this song, so the choice was a no-brainer. There is something so mysterious and strangely emotional about this song which, despite its simplicity, I can never fully put my finger on.”

“Hail to the Underground” will be released worldwide on February 17th, 2023 on various vinyl editions, digipack CD and digital, with preorder available now through Blues Funeral Recordings.

Jack Harlon & The Dead Crows “Hail to the Underground”
Out February 17th on Blues Funeral Recordings
Preorder the album on the website: https://www.bluesfuneral.com/search?q=jack+harlon

and Bandcamp: https://jackharlon-dawsonthedeadcrows.bandcamp.com/album/hail-to-the-underground

TRACKLIST:
1. My Pal (God)
2. Copache (Melvins)
3. You Made Me Realise (MBV)
4. Dust Devil (Butthole Surfers)
5. Day Of Lords (Joy Division)
6. Roll & Tumble (Hambone Willie Newbern)
7. Dark Entries (Bauhaus)
8. Eye Shaking King (Amon Duul II)

Jack Harlon & The Dead Crows is:
Josh McCombe – Drums
Tim Coutts-Smith – Vocals, Guitar
Jordan Richardson – Guitar
Liam Barry – Bass

https://www.facebook.com/jackharlondoom/
https://instagram.com/jack.harlon.and.the.dead.crows
https://jackharlon-dawsonthedeadcrows.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/bluesfuneral/
https://www.instagram.com/blues.funeral/
https://bluesfuneralrecordings.bandcamp.com/
bluesfuneral.com

Jack Harlon and the Dead Crows, “My Pal” official video

Jack Harlon and the Dead Crows, Hail to the Underground (2023)

No doubt there is an entire swath of silly subtitles one might — in a spirit of joy, of course — tack onto Tranquonauts 2, the upcoming, may-not-actually-be-called-that-when-it’s-released sequel to the 2016 first collaborative LP from Australia’s Seedy Jeezus and Earthless guitarist Isaiah Mitchell, Tranquonauts (review here). I don’t even know where to start, except to say that ‘Electric Boogaloo’ is out because it was usurped by fascist dickheads. Ditto Twitter and a whole bunch of other shit. Alas, the times.

I’m pretty sure Mitchell is back in Oz on tour playing guitar with some band called The Black Crowes, but Earthless have been out and about this year as well supporting the January release of their latest LP, Night Parade of One Hundred Demons (review here), their second record for Nuclear Blast and something of a return to form. Meanwhile, Seedy Jeezus issued the live 2LP The Hollow Earth (discussed here) on Lay Bare Recordings and Blown Music after a somewhat fraught pressing process. Was it really July that came out? Shit. I’m later than I thought on a review. So it goes. Constantly.

Needless to say, I’ll do my best when the time comes for Tranquonauts 2 though I wouldn’t necessarily think that’s happening soon. They mention setting the tracklist and having Tony Reed of Mos Generator, Big Scenic Nowhere and various others involved. Interesting that “his genius” isn’t specified as mixing, mastering or actually playing on the thing. All, incidentally, would only be good news.

Speaking of:

Tranquonauts 2 was recorded today Studio OneB.

It was awesome to get the album in the can…. we just need to pick n choose what will be the running order and how it will flow and then send it to Tony Reed to add his genius to the mix.

Heads up – It’s very different to the first Tranquonauts album . We decided to push in different directions to what we would usually go.

Bring on 2023 for its release.

Photo by Stephen Boxshall ( Rag and Bone photography) Barry Lumber, Mark Stewart Sibson, Lex Frumpy, Isaiah Mitchell.

https://www.facebook.com/seedyjeezuspage/
https://www.instagram.com/seedyjeezus/
https://seedyjeezus.bandcamp.com/
http://www.seedyjeezus.com/

https://www.facebook.com/earthlessrips
www.twitter.com/earthlessrips
www.instagram.com/earthlessrips

https://www.facebook.com/blownmusicpresents/

Tranquonauts, “The Vanishing Earth Pt. III

God damn that’s massive. Last heard from with 2020’s Death//Sacrifice (review here), all-caps Melbourne ultra-crush slaughter-sludgers KVLL return unrepentant with “Suffocation,” a six-minute deathly bludgeon that heralds the release next year of an EP that goes by the same name. The song starts big even through its speedier chug, and slows down to get even more tectonic by the time it’s done, and clearly has eyes for your skull. I’ve listened through twice now, and it sounds like my leg feels after having surgery last week — like torn flesh and old bones rubbing against each other. It is brutal.

And oh, the breakdown riff. You’ll slam into the brick wall in front of you at 1:40 and spend the rest of the song trying to escape as the wall on the other side begins to move closer with intent to crush. Good luck with that. A droney backing layer assures the threat is real as even the pummel starts to come apart to noise, and a few last guttural grunts before the final stretch of loops and feedback and whatever else begins its casually destructive exit. Shit. I know they’re doing a three-songer — because that’s what they say they’re doing and they have no reason to lie — but I’ll take full-length from the duo-turned-trio whenever they’re ready to roll one out. If this is the kind of force they’re putting behind their stuff in the meantime though, right on.

Art, info, links:

The song is the first single off our upcoming EP titled Suffocation. Out early 2023. The 3-track EP features another KVLL song, truly sticking to our roots of caveman battle-axe swingin doom. The other song is a cover.

Suffocation was recorded in Early 2022 by Josh Bills at Vagabond Studios. Mixed and Mastered by Josh Bills too. Suffocation is accompanied by a Music Video, shot by Jayden Hauptberger at a factory in the north of Victoria, AUS.

Album art by Jayden Hauptberger + Rhys Brennan.

Spotify pre-save: https://distrokid.com/hyperfollow/kvll/suffocation

Written and Performed by:
Mitchell Kerr – Guitar + Vox
Brayden Becher (Drums)
Rhys Brennan (Bass)

http://www.facebook.com/kvll666
https://www.instagram.com/kvll666/
https://kvll.bandcamp.com/
https://linktr.ee/kvll

KVLL, “Suffocation” official video

Putting this here in no small part as a note to myself, but I figured if you take a listen too, so much the better. I’ve seen Pseudo Mind Hive‘s name around for a bit, but have never really had the chance to dig in. They’ve been kicking around the admirably crowded Melbourne heavy underground for at least half a decade and have numerous releases available on Bandcamp, so I’m late to the party as ever.

Anyhow, along comes a Bandcamp update from respected purveyor Copper Feast Records, and it landed at just the right moment to catch my eye as I’m sitting on the couch recovering from arthroscopic knee surgery earlier this afternoon, and I put on the tunes and dug what I was hearing. I love it when it’s that simple. Whatever you can say about the age in which we live, that that can happen feels not subtly like a miracle to me, as I’m old enough to remember when that was not the case.

In the spirit of sharing something cool, here’s the info from Bandcamp and the EP stream:

This is our new EP ‘Eclectica’

It is a soulful, bizarre and unique cacophony of different influences, approaches and sounds, just like us.

We worked very hard to make this a record that feels classic, and one that could inspire others to express their own unique creativity.

We hope we have succeeded, and we hope that somebody finds Eclectica many years from now in a little record store and loves it. We owe so much to having had that experience ourselves with the countless obscure records from the past that have inspired us.

The road from here on out is a little foggy for us, we’re not sure when we will make music again.

One thing we do know, however, is that we owe everything to you, the beautiful people that have supported us over the last five years. You are as much a part of Pseudo Mind Hive as we are.

All our love,
PMH

CREDITS

released November 11, 2022

MUSIC BY PSEUDO MIND HIVE

WORDS BY CHRISTOPHER HOCKEY

PRODUCED BY PSEUDO MIND HIVE AND MICHAEL BADGER

MIXED BY MICHAEL BADGER

MASTERED BY DAVID BRIGGS

ART BY MADISON CRAVIS aka NIBSON MOTHER

PSEUDO MIND HIVE ARE:

Christopher Hockey // Lead Vocals on tracks 2-5, Guitar on all tracks, Piano on track 2

Jake Bicchieri // Bass on tracks 1, 3, 4 & 5, Guitar on track 2, Backing Vocals on tracks 2, 3 and 5

John Zacharias // Guitar on tracks 1, 3, 4 & 5, Bass on track 2, handclaps on track 3

Samuel Drew-Rumoro // Drums on all tracks, keys on tracks 3 and 5, percussion on track 2, shaker and handclaps on track 3

https://instagram.com/pseudomindhive
https://www.facebook.com/pseudomindhive
https://pseudomindhive.bandcamp.com/

http://facebook.com/copperfeastrecords
http://instagram.com/copperfeastrecords
https://copperfeastrecords.bandcamp.com/
http://www.copperfeastrecords.com/

Pseudo Mind Hive, Eclectica (2022)

Australian duo DEAD — stylization intentional — release their new album, The Laughing Shadow, this Friday, Oct. 14, through We Empty Rooms (also stylized all one word), Forbidden Place Records and Wantage USA. The follow-up to 2021’s Up Yours and the Victoria-based bass/drums — that’s Jace and Jem, respectively — outfit’s umptieth offering overall, its 38 minutes are marked by a persistent feeling of melancholy that, once you understand the context in which it was made, makes total sense. While recalling Earth and a rawer early Crippled Black Phoenix as they layer in guest saxophone from Jenny Divers and swap out guitar from Jace on “Riding Shadows” and others, DEAD hereby present the work they did together after entering pandemic lockdown.

Which one? I don’t know. Not the first, seemingly. They already put out the last show they played before the first one — the aforementioned Up Yours; also apt in context — and below Jem discusses writing as a two-piece while social-distancing across the room from each other, so clearly they were under restrictions self-imposed or otherwise at the time. Probably they’re lucky they were able to be in the same place at all. That wasn’t the case everywhere. But you hear the standalone sax that closes the T2-esque dirge “Death,” or the foreboding distorted lurch in opener “The Cowboy” — yes, a bit of Morricone there, but not overblown compared to many — and the open space in “Riding Shadows” before the slower-King Crimson-y finish, and the abiding mournfulness wants nothing for justification. They call The Laughing Shadow a ‘pandemic album,’ which has become an acknowledged cliché, something people are ashamed of now, as though processing trauma and grief through art was in some way not one of the most beautiful things human beings can do just because other people are doing it too.

Divers‘ sax plays a significant role throughout, whether it’s that full-sounding finish to “Riding Shadows” or the quiet, improv-feeling “Light, Flicker, Dark” that rounds out side A of the LP or the massive second swell in the subsequent “Disgraced Former Detective,” which ends in a jazzy subdued interplay of bass and drums that hints at a live recording process while also transitioning ultra-smooth into “The Cracking Façade,” represented by a linear build of noise — not even sure what that is — that cuts suddenly to a stretch of quiet bass and drums reminiscent of Neurosis circa The Eye of Every Storm and succeeds in being more than just an epilogue for the loud part prior. DEAD do volume trades particularly well, and perhaps in part because there’s so much room in the recording, their dynamic has all the more space for such fluidity. Jem and Jace have been playing together for 15 years, so that The Laughing Shadow comes across as exploratory as it does is itself a triumph of anti-formula creative spirit, but their experience is bled as much into those minor-seeming-but-not-really-minor stretches as the more outwardly consuming lumber behind the free-jazz crashdown of the penultimate “Bastard Return.”

They close with the rumbling title-track, a bass distortion answering back to “The Cowboy” while also portraying the obvious looming threat that defines (defined? do we even know anymore? did we ever?) the pandemic era. A groove is locked in and pursued with steadily increasing intensity until feedback-as-weapon starts at 3:48 and the tension finally lets up somewhat going into the thud-marked crescendo, followed simply by air-push low end and some final punctuation from the drums; an understated conclusion given some of the plod conjured previously, but appropriately meditative considering, again, the subject at hand and the times being lived through. Therapy for all? At least in an ideal world, yes, and covered by insurance. In our wretched, capitalism-fueled dimension, take your catharsis where you can get it.

It’s my pleasure to host The Laughing Shadow streaming in its entirety below, followed by the already-noted comment from Jem and more PR wire-style details.

Please enjoy:

Jem (drums) on The Laughing Shadow:

This album is the first time we removed our tongues from our collective cheek for a moment. We used it to process our grief and to deal with the uncertainty and anguish of lockdowns. While writing it we lost friends and family to the virus, suicide and more. For the most part funerals or gatherings of any kind were not possible. I clung onto this music like a kid does to their teddy.

As a band who toured nonstop for 10 years it hit hard suddenly not being able to do what we love most. We were determined to make something positive from it. The opening track is the oldest song we have – written some years before we formed DEAD. We decided to build an album around this song that would be one long form piece made up of smaller “scenes”. We pretended we had an orchestra. We wrote the bulk of it in Alex’s barn/recording studio in Campbells Creek – masked up, at opposite ends of the room. We’ve never gone so long without hugging each other.

Our friend Mike Deslandes recorded it in that same barn – it felt significant to be able to do that. We did one take of each scene, in order and the warts are very much left in there for your benefit. The sounds you hear are the sounds of the instruments in that space.

I mixed the record with Mike at his house. I’m grateful we had him working with us. Every part of the process had a different kind of weight to it than before. I wanted it to be over and to never end at the same time. At some point I told Jace that I might have to never play these songs again. So, like a million other bands this is our pandemic album.

Tracklisting:
1. The Cowboy
2. Riding Shadows
3. Death
4. Light, Flicker, Dark
5. Disgraced Former Detective/Silence
6. The Cracking Facade
7. Bastard Return
8. The Laughing Shadow

Recorded by Mike Deslandes at Sound Recordings – Winter MMXXI. Assisted by Alex Bennett | Mixed by Mike and Jem. Mastered by Lachlan Carrick. Released on WeEmptyRooms, Wantage USA (Vinyl Only), Forbidden Place Records (CD Only).

DEAD:
Jace: Bass & Guitars
Jem: Drums & Metal Percussion
Jenny Divers: Sax

DEAD on Instagram

DEAD on Facebook

DEAD on Bandcamp

We Empty Rooms Records on Facebook

We Empty Rooms Records on Bandcamp

We Empty Rooms Records website

Forbidden Place Records website

Forbidden Place Records on Bandcamp

Forbidden Place Records on Facebook

Forbidden Place Records on Twitter

Wantage USA on Instagram

Wantage USA on Facebook

Wantage USA on Bandcamp