Quarterly Review: Sergeant Thunderhoof, Swallow the Sun, Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships, Planet of Zeus, Human Teorema, Caged Wolves, Anomalos Kosmos, Pilot Voyager, Blake Hornsby, Congulus

Posted in Reviews on December 12th, 2024 by JJ Koczan

THE-OBELISK-FALL-2020-QUARTERLY-REVIEW

Day four of five for this snuck-in-before-the-end-of-the-year Quarterly Review, and I’m left wondering if maybe it won’t be worth booking another week for January or early February, and if that happens, is it still “quarterly” at that point if you do it like six times a year? ‘Bimonthly Quality Control Assessments’ coming soon! Alert your HR supervisors to tell your servers of any allergies.

No, not really.

I’ll figure out a way to sandwich more music into this site if it kills me. Which I guess it might. Whatever, let’s do this thing.

Quarterly Review #31-40

Sergeant Thunderhoof, The Ghost of Badon Hill

sergeant thunderhoof the ghost of badon hill 1

A marked accomplishment in progressive heavy rock, The Ghost of Badon Hill is the fifth full-length from UK five-piece Sergeant Thunderhoof, who even without the element of surprise on their side — which is to say one is right to approach the 45-minute six-tracker with high expectations based on the band’s past work; their last LP was 2022’s This Sceptred Veil (review here)  — rally around a folklore-born concept and deliver the to-date album of their career. From the first emergence of heft in “Badon” topped with Daniel Flitcroft soar-prone vocals, Sergeant Thunderhoof — guitarists Mark Sayer and Josh Gallop, bassist Jim Camp and drummer Darren Ashman, and the aforementioned Flitcroft — confidently execute their vision of a melodic riffprog scope. The songs have nuance and character, the narrative feels like it moves through the material, there are memorable hooks and grand atmospheric passages. It is by its very nature not without some indulgent aspects, but also a near-perfect incarnation of what one might ask it to be.

Sergeant Thunderhoof on Facebook

Pale Wizard Records store

Swallow the Sun, Shining

swallow the sun shining

The stated objective of Swallow the Sun‘s Shining was for less misery, and fair enough as the Finnish death-doomers have been at it for about a quarter of a century now and that’s a long time to feel so resoundingly wretched, however relatably one does it. What does less-misery sound like? First of all, still kinda miserable. If you know Swallow the Sun, they are still definitely recognizable in pieces like “Innocence Was Long Forgotten,” “What I Have Become” and “MelancHoly,” but even the frontloading of these singles — don’t worry, from “Kold” and the ultra Type O Negative-style “November Dust” (get it?), to the combination of floating, dancing keyboard lines and drawn out guitars in the final reaches of the title-track, they’re not short on highlights — conveys the modernity brought into focus. Produced by Dan Lancaster (Bring Me the Horizon, A Day to Remember, Muse), the songs are in conversation with the current sphere of metal in a way that Swallow the Sun have never been, broadening the definition of what they do while retaining a focus on craft. They’re professionals.

Swallow the Sun on Facebook

Century Media website

Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships, The Mind Like Fire Unbound

Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships The Mind Like Fire Unbound

Where’s the intermittently-crushing sci-fi-concept death-stoner, you ask? Well, friend, Lincoln, Nebraska’s Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships would like to have a word, and on The Mind Like Fire Unbound, there’s a non-zero chance that word will come in the form of layered death metal growls and rasping throatripper screams representing an insectoid species about to tear more-melodically-voiced human colonizers to pieces. The 45-minute LP’s 14-minute opener “BUGS” that lays out this warning is followed by the harsh, cosmic-paranoia conjuration of “Dark Forest” before a pivot in 8:42 centerpiece “Infinite Inertia” — and yes, the structure of the tracks is purposeful; longest at the open and close with shorter pieces on either side of “Infinite Inertia” — takes the emotive cast of Pallbearer to an extrapolated psychedelic metalgaze, huge and broad and lumbering. Of course the contrast is swift in the two-minute “I Hate Space,” but where one expects more bludgeonry, the shortest inclusion stays clean vocally amid its uptempo, Torche-but-not-really push. Organ joins the march in the closing title-track (14:57), which gallops following its extended intro, doom-crashes to a crawl and returns to double-kick behind the encompassing last solo, rounding out with suitable showcase of breadth and intention.

Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships on Facebook

Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships on Bandcamp

Planet of Zeus, Afterlife

Planet of Zeus Afterlife

Planet of Zeus make a striking return with their sixth album, Afterlife, basing their theme around mythologies current and past and accompanying that with a sound that’s both less brash than they were a few years back on 2019’s Faith in Physics (review here) and refined in the sharpness and efficiency of its songwriting. It’s a rocker, which is what one has come to expect from these Athens-based veterans. Afterlife builds momentum through desert-style rockers like “Baptized in His Death” and the hooky “No Ordinary Life” and “The Song You Misunderstand,” getting poppish in the stomp of “Bad Milk” only after the bluesy “Let’s Call it Even” and before the punkier “Letter to a Newborn,” going where it wants and leaving no mystery as to how it’s getting there because it doesn’t need to. One of the foremost Greek outfits of their generation, Planet of Zeus show up, tell you what they’re going to do, then do it and get out, still managing to leave behind some atmospheric resonance in “State of Non-Existence.” There’s audible, continued forward growth and kickass tunes. If that sounds pretty ideal, it is.

Planet of Zeus on Facebook

Planet of Zeus on Bandcamp

Human Teorema, Le Premier Soleil de Jan Calet

Human Teorema Le Premier Soleil

Cinematic in its portrayal, Le Premier Soleil de Jan Calet positions itself as cosmically minded, and manifests that in sometimes-minimal — effectively so, since it’s hypnotic — aural spaciousness, but Paris’ Human Teorema veer into Eastern-influenced scales amid their exploratory, otherworldly-on-purpose landscaping, and each planet on which they touch down, from “Onirico” (7:43) to “Studiis” (15:54) and “Spedizione” (23:20) is weirder than the last, shifting between these vast passages and jammier stretches still laced with synth. Each piece has its own procession and dynamic, and perhaps the shifts in intent are most prevalent within “Studiis,” but the closer is, on the balance, a banger as well, and there’s no interruption in flow once you’ve made the initial choice to go with Le Premier Soleil de Jan Calet. An instrumental approach allows Human Teorema to embody descriptive impressions that words couldn’t create, and when they decide to hit it hard, they’re heavy enough for the scale they’ve set. Won’t resonate universally (what does?), but worth meeting on its level.

Human Teorema on Instagram

Sulatron Records store

Caged Wolves, A Deserts Tale

Caged Wolves A Deserts Tale

There are two epics north of the 10-minute mark on Caged Wolves‘ maybe-debut LP, A Deserts Tale: “Lost in the Desert” (11:26) right after the intro “Dusk” and “Chaac” (10:46) right before the hopeful outro “Dawn.” The album runs a densely-packed 48 minutes through eight tracks total, and pieces like the distortion-drone-backed “Call of the Void,” the alt-prog rocking “Eleutheromania,” “Laguna,” which is like earlier Radiohead in that it goes somewhere on a linear build, and the spoken-word-over-noise interlude “The Lost Tale” aren’t exactly wanting for proportion, regardless of runtime. The bassline that opens “Call of the Void” alone would be enough to scatter orcs, but that still pales next to “Chaac,” which pushes further and deeper, topping with atmospheric screams and managing nonetheless to come out of the other side of that harsh payoff of some of the album’s most weighted slog in order to bookend and give the song the finish it deserves, completing it where many wouldn’t have been so thoughtful. This impression is writ large throughout and stands among the clearest cases for A Deserts Tale as the beginning of a longer-term development.

Caged Wolves on Facebook

Tape Capitol Music store

Anomalos Kosmos, Liminal Escapism

Anomalos Kosmos Liminal Escapism

I find myself wanting to talk about how big Liminal Escapism sounds, but I don’t mean in terms of tonal proportion so much as the distances that seem to be encompassed by Greek progressive instrumentalists Anomalos Kosmos. With an influence from Grails and, let’s say, 50 years’ worth of prog rock composition (but definitely honoring the earlier end of that timeline), Anomalos Kosmos offer emotional evocation in pieces that feel compact on either side of six or seven minutes, taking the root jams and building them into structures that still come across as a journey. The classy soloing in “Me Orizeis” and synthy shimmer of “Parapatao,” the rumble beneath the crescendo of “Kitonas” and all of that gosh darn flow in “Flow” speak to a songwriting process that is aware of its audience but feels no need to talk down, musically speaking, to feed notions of accessibility. Instead, the immersion and energetic drumming of “Teledos” and the way closer “Cigu” rallies around pastoral fuzz invite the listener to come along on this apparently lightspeed voyage — thankfully not tempo-wise — and allow room for the person hearing these sounds to cast their own interpretations thereof.

Anomalos Kosmos on Facebook

Anomalos Kosmos on Bandcamp

Pilot Voyager, Grand Fractal Orchestra

Pilot Voyager Grand Fractal Orchestra

One could not hope to fully encapsulate an impression here of nearly three and a half hours of sometimes-improv psych-drone, and I refuse to feel bad for not trying. Instead, I’ll tell you that Grand Fractal Orchestra — the Psychedelic Source Records 3CD edition of which has already sold out — finds Budapest-based guitarist Ákos Karancz deeply engaged in the unfolding sounds here. Layering effects, collaborating with others from the informal PSR collective like zitherist Márton Havlik or singer Krisztina Benus, and so on, Karancz constructs each piece in a way that feels both steered in a direction and organic to where the music wants to go. “Ore Genesis” gets a little frantic around the middle but finds its chill, “Human Habitat” is duly foreboding, and the two-part, 49-minute-total capper “Transforming Time to Space” is beautiful and meditative, like staring at a fountain with your ears. It goes without saying not everybody has the time or the attention span to sit with a release like this, but if you take it one track at a time for the next four years or so, there’s worlds enough in these songs that they’ll probably just keep sinking in. And if Karancz puts outs like five new albums in that time too, so much the better.

Pilot Voyager on Instagram

Psychedelic Source Records on Bandcamp

Blake Hornsby, A Village of Many Springs

Blake Hornsby A Village of Many Springs

It probably goes without saying — at least it should — that while the classic folk fingerplucking of “Whispering Waters” and the Americana-busy “Laurel Creek Blues” give a sweet introduction to Blake Hornsby‘s A Village of Many Springs, inevitably it’s the 23-minute experimentalist spread of the finale, “Bury My Soul in the Linville River,” that’s going to be a focal point for many listeners, and fair enough. The earthbound-cosmic feel of that piece, its devolution into Lennon-circa-1968 tape noise and concluding drone, aren’t at all without preface. A Village of Many Springs gets weirder as it goes, with the eight-minute “Cathedral Falls” building over its time into a payoff of seemingly on-guitar violence, and the subsequent “O How the Water Flows” nestling into a sweet spot between Appalachian nostalgia and foreboding twang. There’s percussion and manipulation of noise later, too, but even in its repetition, “O How the Water Flows” continues Hornsby‘s trajectory. For what’s apparently an ode to water in the region surrounding Hornsby‘s home in Asheville, North Carolina, that it feels fluid should be no surprise, but by no means does one need to have visited Laurel Creek to appreciate the blues Hornsby conjures for them.

Blake Hornsby on Facebook

Echodelick Records website

Congulus, G​ö​ç​ebe

Congulus Gocebe

With a sensibility in some of the synth of “Hacamat” born of space rock, Congulus have no trouble moving from that to the 1990s-style alt-rock saunter of “Diri Bir Nefes,” furthering the momentum already on the Istanbul-based instrumentalist trio’s side after opener “İskeletin Düğün Halayı” before “Senin Sırlarının Yenilmez Gücünü Gördüm” spaces out its solo over scales out of Turkish folk and “Park” marries together the divergent chugs of Judas Priest and Meshuggah, there’s plenty of adventure to be had on Göç​ebe. It’s the band’s second full-length behind 2019’s Bozk​ı​r — they’ve had short releases between — and it moves from “Park” into the push of “Zarzaram” and “Vordonisi” with efficiency that’s only deceptive because there’s so much stylistic range, letting “Ulak” have its open sway and still bash away for a moment or two before “Sonunda Ah Çekeriz Derinden” closes by tying space rock, Mediterranean traditionalism and modern boogie together in one last jam before consigning the listener back to the harsher, decidedly less utopian vibes of reality.

Congulus on Facebook

Congulus on Bandcamp

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Friday Full-Length: Speck, Unkraut

Posted in Bootleg Theater on November 1st, 2024 by JJ Koczan

Embroiled in an outbound interstellar thrust from pretty much the not-literally-said word ‘go’ on “Palim Palim,” Speck‘s debut album, Unkraut, takes a linear trajectory as it reels unbounded through the universe, undulating and careening as it goes. It’s not all raucous come-with-us antigrav thrust from the Vienna, Austria, three-piece, who released Unkraut on their own in 2021 and followed up with an issue through Tonzonen in 2022, but Patrick Säuerl‘s drums enact a vitality on “Palim Palim,” not quite the neo-space metal of Slift or King Gizzard or whichever big modern psych act you want to name, and more rooted in the European heavy underground of the last 20-plus years, with bassist Lisa Winkelmüller doing fretruns around the intermittent solo divergences of guitarist Marcel Cultrera — aware of and willing to be adjacent to heavy psychedelia as a genre — but as they hit the brakes going into the brief comedown “II” after “Palim Palim,” a grand mellowing that picks up in tempo around the guitar in jammy style before the halfway point and builds up from there to a noisy crescendo and is brought down again, the movement is no less fluid.

Ebbs and flows should be nothing new to those with any familiarity to instrumental heavy music, but as they seem to be making efforts to distinguish their approach from the history and methods of krautrock — at least that’s what I get from Unkraut as a title; if that interpretation is off, I’d love to be gently informed in a comment — what’s letting them do that most of all is the showcase of raw chemistry in the sound of the 37-minute outing’s five component tracks. It’s a difficult niche to pin down, as the likes of HawkwindColour HazeEarthless or Sula Bassana (with whom Cultrera now collaborates in Minerall) could be cited as influences depending on a given moment, whether it’s the space rock call to prayer in the strum of the centerpiece title-track or the subsequent “Firmament,” which is no less expansive in reach but is much quieter as it goes about its exploratory business. That pair, “Unkraut” and “Firmament,” echo the dynamic between “Palim Palim” and “II,” in being a more active piece followed by something comparatively less of a push, but as “Unkraut” caps its blowout finish — an apex for the album that closer “Megachonk ∞” answers by riding a full-go groove for most of its eight minutes — and “Firmament” sets itself to answering back, the line they draw from one side to the other of their sound is longer and the music accordingly broader in scope.

To wit, where “II” is the shortest inclusion at 4:50 and tied to a build structure despite being executed organically enough thatspeck unkraut if you told me it was an unplotted jam and the band had no idea where they were headed when they picked up their instruments and hit record, it would be believable. I don’t know that that is or isn’t the case, but the way “Firmament” — which like the rest of the songs is just a little over eight minutes long — delves deeper into subdued, meditative psychedelics, it doesn’t have that payoff. After “Unkraut,” “Firmament” subtly hypnotizes almost before the listener understands what has happened; its quiet outset emerges smoothly from the comedown of the title-track and reroutes from the expected path of another ‘heavier’ stretch by simply doing something else. Crazy, right? I know, but it works all the more because it puts “Megachonk ∞,” which even seems to have a little bit of vocals snuck into its procession, where that payoff might otherwise be. To (hopefully) make it clear: “Firmament” ends up complementing the song after it as much as the song before it precisely because it doesn’t lose the plot. If one thinks of “Palim Palim” and “II” as a kind of encapsulated demonstration for the movement across “Unkraut,” “Firmament” and “Megachonk ∞,” it’s kind of like that in listening, but that doesn’t account for “Unkraut” being on side A of the vinyl edition.

Neither does it invalidate the impression, especially for those taking Unkraut on digitally, say, via the stream above. This hill-before-a-mountain character suits the fluidity of Speck‘s material overall, and the nuance they bring to it in the rhythmic warmth and the sense of purpose that emerges from the changes and how they’re made give the album an individual persona within a well-established style. By the time they’re two or three minutes into “Megachonk ∞,” they’ve made their intention pretty clear in carrying forward a shove to the finish. There’s a momentary break for some far-off echoing semi-spoken vocals, almost egging the instruments on, or maybe the listener, some grunts in there, but the instrumental kickback is quick to arrive and sweeps to the wammy-inclusive screaming peak of “”Megachonk ∞” that gives over when it’s good and ready to the residual noise that provides a satisfying wash at the end. The sense that the band could just keep going is palpable, but that they don’t, that they keep it relatively brief and in prime LP length, demonstrates a control and restraint on their sound that only further speaks to the purposefulness behind what Unkraut does.

Did it reinvent krautrock? I wouldn’t be the one to ask, but it is decidedly other from it while touching on its methods and modus. But the relatively straightforward arrangements — there are plenty of effects throughout but so far as I know Speck don’t delve into the world of keyboards let alone vintage-worship or anything like that — keep a human cure in these songs, and that grounds them as well, as much as they’re grounded at all. Speck have continued to progress along these lines over the last couple years, in their 2023 split with Interkosmos (review here), second full-length, Eine Gute Reise, and participation in earlier-2024’s International Space Station Vol. 2 (review here) four-way split at the behest of Worst Bassist Records, and nothing they’ve done to this point has shown any signs of their growth slowing. Amid a generational turnover in the heavy underground, Speck‘s Unkraut presents a fresh perspective and, crucially, an immersive plunge for the listener to take. To close, I’ll note that I didn’t fully appreciate how much Speck had to offer until I saw them live at this past summer’s Freak Valley Festival (review here), of which their set was an absolute highlight. A band to catch if you can make it happen.

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

Hey, it’s the first Friday Full-Length in, what, four weeks? Turns out I still do this. I had to wonder for a minute if I’d ever get it back on track. Last Friday was my daughter’s birthday, as I noted last weekend, and the two Fridays prior were in an ongoing Quarterly Review, so yeah, I guess this would’ve been four weeks without one if I let it slip. Rest assured this brought about an existential crisis. Who even am I if I don’t spend my Friday morning clacking away on the laptop keyboard about some record I probably should’ve written up years ago? Fortunately that’s not a question I’ll need to answer this week.

Last night was Halloween. Holy smokes. First we had the Halloween parade at The Pecan’s school. For that one, she wore the black hole costume her grandmother made — black shirt and pants, with a hula hoop covered in fiery-looking fabric she could wear around her for an accretion disk — and of course that won the prize for the best costume in her grade. The Patient Mrs. and I ended up being dragged into a video the principal of the school made — it’ll come in an email, if I can link it here I will; no doubt it will be hilarious — before the parade actually even happened. Then all the classes came out and did the parade around the blacktop behind the school while the corresponding adults made fools of ourselves gaggling at the children. So it goes. The good news is it was 80 degrees and sunny. The bad news is that means the world is ending.

Then we got home. Costume change from black hole to Link from Breath of the Wild — blue tunic — for The Pecan. She saw a kid last weekend at the neighborhood Halloween parade — parents have invented ways to use a costume more than once in the time since I was a kid; it is strange and I’m pretty sure my daughter’s generation will decide it’s not worth it — dressed as Link with a Master Sword and shield and just about lost her mind. Couldn’t take her eyes off it. We ended up driving last Saturday afternoon to Edgewater, NJ, like 50 minutes, to a Party City to buy the sword and shield, and The Patient Mrs. was able to secure a costume, plus acceptable boots, from the internet in time for the day itself.

The plan was to go with a group of her friends from Girl Scouts who live in the neighborhood — there are like six or seven of them — and we’d end up doing that, but a friend of The Patient Mrs.’ was coming along for the hell of it and when she got to the house, the dog got out. So here I go sprinting down the road — thankfully not out to 202, which is like 100 feet the other way and as a four-lane road would be certain death for the dog — calling “Tilly come!” at the top of my panicked lungs. Again. Electric fences cost thousands of dollars, I’m sorry. A neighbor came out of her house. The dog had stopped her own sprint at the edge of this woman’s property and Tilly loves people so much that all the lady had to do was say, “Hello puppy!” and Tilly ran over to meet her. Tilly had seemed like she had enough at that point — it’s just not letting her get out of sight and get lost in the interim; also not letting her get runover — anyway and took the bellyrubs while waiting for me to hobble over and get her. I was glad I did. We do our best not to keep the door open, but the dog is wiggly and dumb and surprisingly fast for being a mix of two lap breeds; shih-tzu and bichon friese. She’s 16 months old now.

Then we had to go trick-or-treating, meeting up with the Girl Scout group up the hill. The roads were busier with cars than one might’ve expected, but it was ultimately fine. Some of the parents brought shots and whatever in their water bottles, The Patient Mrs. had a couple drinks in hers; I ate a gummy before we went out and was well stoned by the time it got dark. The Pecan got tired around 7:30 and was flailing in the road as cars passed by — you should’ve seen the moms diving after her; noble in their intentions, but the more you drag The Pecan one way, the more she’ll push back into the middle of the street; keep a respectful distance and offer verbal reminders if you want to exert even limited control the situation, which you probably don’t actually need to do because even out-of-control-tired Pecan knows where she belongs and will get there, whatever heart attacks she provides along the way; “I got it,” I said as I followed her on a jaunt further down the road ahead of the group near the end of the night, and sure enough, I had it; check the perimeter and direction of momentum in any situation — so we turned around and headed back to the car with her fine selection of candy in the traditional Halloween bucket that holds fidgets the rest of the year. She came home, had a Tootsie Roll or two and was ready for a slice of pizza and bed. She kept the costume on while she watched Zelda fan theories on YouTube, and nobody was up late. It was a lot going with the group, but I’m glad the kid has friends — she’s definitely the weird one, and I expect she’ll continue to be — and she got to spend time with them doing fun, not-school-related stuff.

We had our parent-teacher conference this week, for which I was pointedly not stoned. She’s killing it in first grade, her teacher loves her, and she’s a joy to have in class. Considering where we were a year ago at this time, I feel justified in the tears of joy I shed. She’s an amazing kid — right now she’s got the Master Sword and is dancing from couch to couch; I was a blacksmith and tempered the sword; neither The Patient Mrs. nor I are particularly thrilled about introducing weapons-play to the house — and beginning to see the world around her in ways that she previously couldn’t. I have no idea what the next year will bring and wouldn’t embarrass myself by trying to predict. My experience of parenting has been a rollercoaster with the lowest lows and some of the highest highs I’ve ever had. I expect we’ll keep busy, one way or the other.

I could go on here, but this post is long enough, and if you’re still reading, thanks. Kid’s got off from school today for the Hindu holiday Diwali — the town we live in is a big South Asian enclave; it is a strength of the community and the food is amazing — and she had half-days most of this week for conferences, so I expect Monday will be something of a harsh return to reality, but we’ve got the weekend first and that’ll be plenty. Whatever you’re up to, I hope you have a great time and stay safe. Thanks again for reading, don’t forget to hydrate, and I’ll see you back on Monday for more.

FRM.

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Chorosia Announce October Tour Dates

Posted in Whathaveyou on August 29th, 2024 by JJ Koczan

chorosia (photo by Herr Ramisu)

Vienna post-heavy four-piece Chorosia are heading out this Fall with sludge-punker countrymen Grimms Eye for a 10-date stretch starting Oct. 3. Have you ever heard either of these bands? It doesn’t matter. That’s the whole fucking point. There’s so much out there — this planet we’re on is so small compared to the rest of everything as we know and/or imagine it, and yet the rush of living on it feels endless. I don’t care if you never heard Chorosia or you spent two weeks last summer sleeping on the couch of their rehearsal space. What matters is you’re here now, reading this. What matters is if you listen now, when you have the chance.

And no one on the internet will tell you this, but you know what? If you miss it now, you’ll probably have another chance too. I know that’s not the thing you’re supposed to do in your little internet-self-branded-fiefdom. I should be trying to activate your FOMO on everything and hyping the shit out of every riff that comes my way because if I don’t I won’t get clicks and then step one steal underpants step two… … … step three profit. Well fuck that shit. Experience life at your own pace. These shows aren’t until October. Even if you happen to live in the path of the tour, or are going to be there by some fortunate happenstance, you’ve got time. Everybody relax.

Chrosia‘s video for “Hands, Switchblades and Vile Vortices” is streaming below. I put Grimms Eye‘s 2022 LP, Throne down there as well for your perusal/enjoyment. So peruse, and enjoy at your leisure if you so choose:

chorosia tour

Chorosia & Grimm’s Eye: Grim Vortices Tour 2024

The Vienna-based prog/sludge riff masters Chorosia and their hometown HC punk/sludge colleagues Grimm’s Eye are embarking on an EU tour this October.

Chorosia and Grimm’s Eye have just announced the Grim Vortices 2024 tour taking place in early October. Spanning from Czechia to The Netherlands, the bands will embark on a 10-day journey across the continent. Find the full date list below.

Chorosia’s highly acclaimed latest release “Stray Dogs” was published in September last year and it was praised for its unique blend of styles and genres. The band has released two albums prior, self-titled in 2018 and “A Call To Love” in 2021.
As for Grimm’s Eye, the sludge-punk outlet released their second studio album “Throne” in early 2022 as the follow-up to their debut “Act!” from 2019.

Oct 3 – Brno, CZ @ Sibiř
Oct 4 – Görlitz, DE @ BASTA
Oct 5 – Hildesheim, DE @ Thav
Oct 6 – TBD / Feel free to contact the bands
Oct 7 – Utrecht, NL @ Trapop!
Oct 8 – Hasselt, BE @ Nocturna
Oct 9 – Belvaux, LU @ MK BAR
Oct 10 – Strasbourg, FR @ Le Local
Oct 11 – Munich, DE @ TBD
Oct 12 – Passau, DE @ Tabakfabrik

https://www.facebook.com/chorosia/
https://www.instagram.com/chorosia.doom
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC8fOksvdGOFpHjEdnNOgsuA
https://chorosia.bandcamp.com/

Chorosia, “Hands, Switchblades and Vile Vortices” official video

Grimms Eye, Throne (2022)

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Full Album Premiere & Review: Various Artists, International Space Station Vol. 2 4-Way Split 2LP

Posted in audiObelisk, Reviews on August 19th, 2024 by JJ Koczan

VA International Space Station Vol. 2

[Click play above to stream International Space Station Vol. 2 in full. The split is out Aug. 20 on Worst Bassist, Weird Beard and Echodelick Records.]

In addition to being the most expensive thing ever built, the International Space Station is the most resounding proof ever manifest of the potential for what humanity can accomplish when we, in even momentary or compartmentalized fashion, put aside our differences and genuinely collaborate. Human potential, circling the planet above our heads every 90 minutes or so. Worst Bassist Records (Germany/EU), working in conjunction with Weird Beard Records (UK) and Echodelick Records (US), offers the second installment of its split series, International Space Station Vol. 2, both in tribute and in some of the same cooperative spirit. Like its 2022 predecessor, International Space Station Vol. 1 (review here), the assemblage features four bands, including the Americans Verstärker, from Kentucky, as well as Kombynat Robotron (from Germany), Speck (from Austria) and Sarkh (from Germany). It’s not quite the same as Europe, Russia, Canada and America spending billions of dollars to construct the ISS itself, module by module, but as one would hope, each band brings something of their own to the overarching scope of International Space Station Vol. 2, while keeping to the abiding space rock theme, in essence if not necessarily genre tropes. It’s cosmic one way or the other, to be sure.

As with Vol. 1, each band on Vol. 2 is given a side to work with to make a full 72-minute 2LP. Verstärker lead off and bring the first of the split’s delves into krautrock across “Weltraumtraum” (12:16) and “Kvant” (5:46), the latter of which is an immersive, multi-tiered drone that gradually emerges from the second half of “Weltraumtraum.” The two are likewise exploratory, if in different ways, as the first cut starts out with a more urgent gallop on drums and a bassline that keeps it cool but still moves, guitar feeling out the spaces in the swirl. A boogie takes hold until about four and a half minutes in, where the change marked by a stop of drums leads to a heavier outbound thrust. About force more than escape velocity, the next two minutes of push give over to mellower bassy jamming and guitar effects floating overhead, a little ghostly, but there. The drums keep the tension so that when “Weltraumtraum” starts to build back up it makes sense, and even after the crescendo, until just about 10 minutes in, the drums hold out amid the residual synth and guitar echoes. Once they go, it’s the sci-fi drone of “Kvant” all the way — an initial and not at all last hypnotic stretch as International Space Station Vol. 2 broadens its reach.

Kombynat Robotron bring a reset at the start of their lone inclusion “Montan” (15:31) and answer the proggy flow of Verstärker‘s longer piece with an easy movement of their own. Shimmering guitar over a krautrock groove probably shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone familiar with the band, this split series, or the style more generally, but Kombynat Robotron bring a YawningMan-in-space sensibility to the guitar work and subtle gotta-go of the rhythm. A crash and stop at five minutes in marks the divergence from where they’ve been to where they’re going, which is to a more actively swirling solo section, with crash cymbal adding to the build as they move further into the maybe-improvised unknown. Howls and wails circa 8:20 preface a pickup in the toms, and the Kiel trio carry their procession in willfully, increasingly noisy style across its back half, such that when it ends with a feedbackscape, it makes sense, feeling all the more vibrant and nebular in their fusing of elements. As the only band with one song here — everyone else does a long one and a short one, like Verstärker — Kombynat Robotron still use their time well to emphasize performance as well as exploration. “Montan” is duly massive as a result.

Various Artists International Space Station Vol 2

The immediate impression when Speck set forth with “Flaniergang” (16:03), with “Bes, So Bes” (4:29) following, is cleaner in tone, but it’s the urging motion of the drums that is most consuming. Accompanied by a bassline one might be tempted to call “solid” were it not so utterly liquefied, the drums mark out the path the song will take and give everybody — yes, including you — the chance to get on board before the real takeoff. That comes shortly after three minutes in as the guitar comes forward and the groove opens up with chugging interstellar build. Hints of heavy psych melodicism persist in the guitar, and that’ll do quite nicely, thank you, but Speck bring the proceedings back down for a quick refueling ahead of the next launch, which comes in short order. It’s not the last either — they sneak in a third redirect in the last two minutes that makes “Flaniergang” even more exciting, capping with feedback that leads directly into the cymbal wash of “Bes, So Bes,” a slow-rolling improv-feeling jaunt into low gravity that isn’t shapeless but which is clear in its less-rigid structure, and at this point in the split, calling something “less rigid” is really saying something.

Given the unenviable task of rounding out the final of the 2LP’s four sides, Sarkh flip the script and put the shorter song first, topping “Helios” (6:17) with a sample in its early going and sweeping in with heavier tones and some of the post-metallic expanse they’ve established as well within their reach. By the time they’re three minutes in, “Helios” is crushing and sprawling in kind, and they continue to set airy post-rock guitar against what in context sounds downright pummeling as the song churns to its purposeful ending, a stretch of low hum making the transition between “Helios” and the concluding “Cape Wrath” (11:37). Terrestrial, if not cavernous in its sound, and once again, remarkably heavy, “Cape Wrath” turns from the patterned riff that begins it, drops the drums and resets for a breath around ambient guitar, and thereby sets out on one big, last build, the payoff of which is your explanation for why Sarkh appear last on International Space Station Vol. 2 — once you go in the black hole, there’s no getting back out. It’s okay though, because as gravitational as they get, Sarkh retain enough presence and intentionality to bring “Cape Wrath” to a close with a change to sparse standalone guitar, not unlike that which set out that build to begin with.

And really, who knows where or when that was. On the cosmic-web-defined, impossible-to-comprehend-by-our-bacteria-brains scales of time and space in the universe, International Space Station and the structure that inspired the series in the first are — like everything else human beings have ever done and likely will ever do — small achievements, but they share that aspect of realized potential, and like the different sections of the ISS being assembled in orbit some 255 miles above the surface of the planet, each band’s material adds to the complexity of what’s portrayed by the whole, which is a fresh, multidimensional space rock that speaks no less to an optimistic future. The eons-long course of civilization’s history has wrought little that is more worth celebrating, and International Space Station Vol. 2 feels suitably reverent.

Verstärker on Facebook

Verstärker on Instagram

Verstärker on Bandcamp

Kombynat Robotron on Facebook

Kombynat Robotron on Instagram

Kombynat Robotron on Bandcamp

Speck on Facebook

Speck on Instagram

Speck on Bandcamp

Sarkh on Facebook

Sarkh on Instagram

Sarkh on Bandcamp

Worst Bassist Records on Facebook

Worst Bassist Records on Instagram

Worst Bassist Records on Bandcamp

Worst Bassist Records website

Echodelick Records on Facebook

Echodelick Records on Instagram

Echodelick Records on Bandcamp

Echodelick Records website

Weird Beard Records on Facebook

Weird Beard Records on Bandcamp

Weird Beard Records store

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International Space Station Vol. 2 Four-Way Split Out Aug. 20

Posted in Whathaveyou on July 24th, 2024 by JJ Koczan

I know I’ve said this before, but I continue to believe there’s something extra rad about a four-way split. Two, generally pretty cool, but often leads to a sense of one band competing with the other or at least a tendency on the part of the listener to compare them, which is just the same thing from the other side. Three, well fine as long as you don’t have any intention toward vinyl. But a four-way 2LP split breaks up in a satisfying way, as everybody gets to showcase their aural wares on their own side, and there’s usually enough breadth of personality between the four bands that the listener is more inclined to take everything as it comes. As Worst Bassist Records showed with three first installment of the four-way split series International Space Station (review here) in 2022, ‘take it as it comes’ is precisely the best way to go in hearing it.

Jointly released through Weird Beard Records in the UK and Echodelick Records in the US, and I believe available to preorder from all of them, International Space Station Vol. 2 once again brings together an intercontinental assemblage in Verstärker (from the US, despite the maybe-misleading umlaut), Kombynat Robotron and Sarkh (from Germany), and Speck (from Austria), and everybody but Kombynat Robotron already has a song streaming. And Kombynat Robotron aren’t being jerks or holdouts or whathaveyou, but they’ve only got one song on their side. Fair enough up keep it under wraps for now.

If you do want to hear that — and we both know you do — come back Aug. 19, as I’ll be streaming the album in full that day with what I’m sure will be a duly slobbering review full of obscure Star Trek references and cosmic buzzwords picked up from the PBS S0ace Time science videos my daughter watches with ironically religious fervor. So it’ll be awesome, in other words.

For now, art, info and copious linkage follow. Engage:

VA International Space Station Vol. 2

The long awaited vol. 2 of the Intrernational Space Station arrives!

2-LP in a fat gatefold cover, colored wax, limited to 500
LP 1: orange wax
LP 2: blue wax
CD in digisleeve lim. 100

Four international bands (Verstärker, Kombynat Robotron, Speck, Sarkh) contributing 1 LP side each, instrumental, about how to watch the ISS crossing their skies from time to time… or being overwhelmed by the rough beauty of the ocean…

Long and psychedelic tracks pulsating through space and try to follow the way of the space station around our globe and even beyond, to contribute you the opportunity to travel through your inner cosmosis while listening, only interrupted by the needle lifting, which could just be some stops at random interstellar stations, to release and gain passengers.

2-LP in a fat gatefold cover, colored wax, limited to 500
LP 1: orange wax
LP 2: blue wax

Out via Worst Bassist (DE+World), Echodelick (USA) and Weird Beird (UK)
August 20th 2024
Comes with Download Code

CD out via Worst Bassist on Aug. 20th.

Verstärker

Verstärker from Kentucky, USA, play monotonic motorik sound, surrounded by soundscapes and beautiful noise.

Groove, shifts, scapes, beauty, intensity, it’s all there.

Kombynat Robotron

Germany’s high flying neo-krautrockers continue on side B with their floating and dynamic longtrack.

Speck

Side C kicks off with Austria’s instrumental psychedelic mantra jammers Speck, who created a journey through mind and space until…

Sarkh

… the ISS takes another turn over Germany and brings you a force of nature to end all this, with side D.

You’ll be torn apart and re-built again through the heavy and yet delightful instrumentals.

1. Verstärker – Weltraumtraum
2. Verstärker – Kvant
3. Kombynat Robotron – Montan
4. Speck – Flaniergang
5. Speck – Bes, so bes
6. Sarkh – Helios
7. Sarkh – Cape Wrath

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

https://www.facebook.com/KombynatRobotron
https://www.instagram.com/kombynat_robotron
https://kombynatrobotron.bandcamp.com/

http://www.facebook.com/speckspeckspeck
http://www.instagram.com/speck_speck_speck
https://speckspeckspeck.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/SarkhWorship/
https://www.instagram.com/sarkh.evolve
https://sarkh.bandcamp.com/

https://www.facebook.com/worstbassistrecords
https://www.instagram.com/worst.bassist.records
https://worstbassistrecords.bandcamp.com/
https://www.worstbassist.com/

https://www.facebook.com/ERECORDSATL
https://www.instagram.com/echodelickrecords/
https://echodelickrecords.bandcamp.com/
https://www.echodelickrecords.com/

https://www.facebook.com/WeirdBeardRecs/
https://weirdbeardrecs.bandcamp.com/
https://theweirdbeard.bigcartel.com/

Various Artists, International Space Station Vol. 2 (2024)

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Quarterly Review: Pallbearer, BleakHeart, Pryne, Avi C. Engel, Aktopasa, Guenna, Slow Green Thing, Ten Ton Slug, Magic Fig, Scorched Oak

Posted in Reviews on May 17th, 2024 by JJ Koczan

The-Obelisk-Quarterly-Review

By the time today is through — come hell or high water! — we will be at the halfway point of this two-week Quarterly Review. It hasn’t been difficult so far, though there are ups and downs always and I don’t think I’m giving away secrets when I tell you that in listening to 50 records some are going to be better than others.

Truth is that even outside the 100 LPs, EPs, etc., I have slated, there’s still a ton more. Even in something so massive, there’s an element of picking and choosing what goes in. Curation is the nice word for it, though it’s not quite that creatif in my head. Either way, I hope you’ve found something that connects this week. If not yet, then today. If not today, then maybe next week. As I’m prone to say on Fridays, we’re back at it on Monday.

Quarterly Review #41-50:

Pallbearer, Mind Burns Alive

pallbearer mind burns alive

While I won’t take away from the rawer energy and longing put into their earlier work, maturity suits Pallbearer. The Little Rock, Arkansas, four-piece of vocalist/guitarist Brett Campbell, guitarist/backing vocalist Devin Holt, bassist/synthesist/backing vocalist Joseph D. Rowland and drummer Mark Lierly have passed their 15th anniversary between 2020’s Forgotten Days (review here) and the self-recorded six tracks of Mind Burns Alive, and they sound poised harnessing new breadth and melodic clarity. They’ve talked about the album being stripped down, and maybe that’s true to some degree in the engrossing-anyhow opener “When the Light Fades,” but there’s still room for sax on the 10-minute “Endless Place,” and the quieter stretches of the penultimate “Daybreak” highlight harmonized vocals before the bass-weighted riff sweeps in after the three-minute mark. Campbell has never sounded stronger or more confident as a singer, and he’s able to carry the likewise subdued intro to “Signals” with apparent sincerity and style alike. The title-track flashes brighter hopes in its later guitar solo leads, but they hold both their most wistful drift and their most crushing plod for closer “With Disease,” because five records and countless tours (with more to come) later, Pallbearer very clearly know what the fuck they’re doing. I hope having their own studio leads to further exploration from here.

Pallbearer on Facebook

Nuclear Blast website

BleakHeart, Silver Pulse

Bleakheart silver pulse

With its six pieces arranged so that side A works from its longest track to its shortest and side B mirrors by going shortest to longest, Denver‘s BleakHeart seem to prioritize immersion on their second full-length, Silver Pulse, as “All Hearts Desire” unfolds fluidly across nearly eight minutes, swelling to an initial lumbering roll that evaporates as they move into the more spacious verse and build back up around the vocals of Kiki GaNun (also synth) and Kelly Schilling (also bass, keys and more synth). Emotional resonance plays at least as much of a role throughout as the tonal weight intermittently wrought by JP Damron and Mark Chronister‘s guitars, and with Joshua Quinones on drums giving structure and movement to the meditations of “Where I’m Disease” before leaving the subsequent “Let Go” to its progression through piano, drone and a sit-in from a string quartet that leads directly into “Weeping Willow,” the spaces feel big and open but never let the listener get any more lost in them than is intended. This is the first LP from the five-piece incarnation of BleakHeart, which came together in 2022, and the balance of lushness and intensity as “Weeping Willow” hits its culmination and recedes into the subdued outset of “Falling Softly” and the doomed payoff that follows bodes well, but don’t take that as undercutting what’s already being accomplished here.

BleakHeart on Facebook

Seeing Red Records website

Pryne, Gargantuan

PRYNE Gargantuan

Austria’s Pryne — also stylized all-caps: PRYNE — threaten to derail their first album before it’s even really started with the angular midsection breakdown of “Can-‘Ka No Rey,” but that the opener holds its course and even brings that mosher riff back at the end is indicative of the boldness with which they bring together the progressive ends of metal and heavy rock throughout the 10-song/46-minute offering, soaring in the solo ahead of the slowdown in “Ramification,” giving the audience 49 seconds to catch its breath after that initial salvo with “Hollow Sea” before “Abordan” resumes the varied onslaught with due punch, shove and twist, building tension in the verse and releasing in the melodic chorus in a way that feels informed by turn-of-the-century metal but seeming to nod at Type O Negative in the first half bridge of “Cymboshia” and refusing flat-out to do any one thing for too long. Plotted and complex even as “The Terrible End of the Yogi” slams out its crescendo before the Baronessy verse of “Plaguebearer” moves toward a stately gang shout and squibbly guitar tremolo, they roll out “Enola” as a more straight-ahead realignment before the drone interlude “Shapeless Forms” bursts into the double-kick-underscored thrash of closer “Elder Things,” riding its massive groove to an expectedly driving end. You never quite know what’s coming next within the songs, but the overarching sense of movement becomes a uniting factor that serves the material well regardless of the aggression level in any given stretch.

Pryne on Facebook

Pryne on Bandcamp

Avi C. Engel, Too Many Souls

avi c engel too many souls

Backed by looped percussive ticks and pops and the cello-esque melody of the gudok, Toronto experimental singer-songwriter Avi C. Engel is poised as they ask in the lyrics of “Breadcrumb Dance,” “How many gods used to run this place/Threw up their hands, went into real estate” near the center of the seven-song Too Many Souls LP. Never let it be said there wasn’t room for humor in melancholy. Engel isn’t new to exploring folkish intimacy in various contexts, and Too Many Souls feels all the more personal even in “Wooly Mammoth” or second cut “Ladybird, What’s Wrong?” which gets underway on its casual semi-ramble with the line, “One by one I watch them piss into the sun,” for the grounded perspective at root. An ongoing thread of introspection and Engel‘s voice at the center draw the songs together as these stories are told in metaphor — birds return in the album’s second half with “The Oven Bird’s Song” but there’s enough heart poured in that it doesn’t need to be leaned into as a theme — and before it moves into its dreamstate drone still with the acoustic guitar beneath, “Without Any Eyes” brings through its own kind of apex in Engel‘s layered delivery. Topped with a part-backmasked take on the traditional “Wayfaring Stranger” that’s unfortunately left as an instrumental, Too Many Souls finds Engel continuing their journey of craft with its own songs as companions for each other and the artist behind them.

Avi C. Engel on Facebook

Somnimage website

Aktopasa, Ultrawest

aktopasa ultrawest

The 13-minute single “Ultrawest” follows behind Aktopasa‘s late-2022 Argonauta Records debut, Journey to the Pink Planet (review here), and was reportedly composed to feature in a documentary of the same name about the reshaping of post-industrial towns in Colorado. It is duly spacious in its slow, linear, instrumentalist progression. The Venice, Italy, three-piece of guitarist Lorenzo Barutta, bassist Silvio Tozzato and drummer Marco Sebastiano Alessi are fluid as they maintain the spirit of the jam that likely birthed the song’s floating atmospherics, but there’s a plan at work as well as they bring the piece to fruition, with Alessi subtly growing more urgent around 10 minutes in to mark the shift into an ending that never quite bursts out and isn’t trying to, but feels like resolution just the same. A quick, hypnotic showcase of the heavy psychedelic promise the debut held, “Ultrawest” makes it easy to look forward to whatever might come next for them.

Aktopasa on Facebook

Aktopasa on Bandcamp

Guenna, Peak of Jin’Arrah

Guenna Peak of Jin Arrah

Right onto the list of 2024’s best debuts goes Guenna‘s Peak of Jin’Arrah, specifically for the nuance and range the young Swedish foursome bring to their center in heavy progressive fuzz riffing. One might look at a title like “Bongsai” or “Weedwacker” (video premiered here) and imagine played-to-genre stoner fare, but Guenna‘s take is more ambitious, as emphasized in the flute brought to “Bongsai” at the outset and the proclivity toward three-part harmonies that’s unveiled more in the nine-minute “Dimension X,” which follows. The folk influence toward which that flute hints comes forward on the mostly-acoustic closer “Guenna’s Lullaby,” which takes hold after the skronk-accompanied, full-bore push that caps “Wizery,” but by that point the context for such shifts has been smoothly laid out as being part of an encompassing and thoughtful songwriting process that in less capable hands would leave “Ordric Major” disjointed and likely overly aggressive. Even as they make room for the guest lead vocals of Elin Pålsson on “Dark Descent,” Guenna walk these balances smoothly and confidently, and if you don’t believe there’s a generational shift happening right now — at this very moment — in Scandinavia, Peak of Jin’Arrah stands ready to convince you otherwise. There’s a lot of work between here and there, but Guenna hold the potential to be a significant voice in that next-gen emergence.

Guenna on Facebook

The Sign Records website

Slow Green Thing, Wetterwarte / Waltherstrasse

Slow Green Thing Wetterwarte Waltherstrasse

The interplay of stoner-metal tonal density and languid vocal melody in “I Thought I Would Not” sets an atmospheric mood for Slow Green Thing on their fourth LP, Wetterwarte / Waltherstrasse, which the Dresden-based four-piece seem to have recorded in two sessions between 2020 and 2022. That span of time might account for some of the scope between the songs as “Thousand Deaths” holds out a hand into the void staring back at it and the subsequent “Whispering Voices” answers the proggy wash and fuzzed soloing of “Tombstones in My Eyes” with roll and meditative float alike, but I honestly don’t know what was recorded when and there’s no real lack of cohesion within the aural mists being conjured or the heft residing within it, so take that as you will. It’s perhaps less of a challenge to put temporal considerations aside since Slow Green Thing seem so at home in the flow that plays out across Wetterwarte / Waltherstrasse‘s six songs and 44 minutes, remaining in control despite veering into more aggressive passages and basing so much of what they do on entrancing and otherworldly vibe. And while the general superficialities of thickened tones and soundscaping, ‘gaze-type singing and nod will be familiar, the use made of them by Slow Green Thing offers a richer and deeper experience revealed and affirmed on repeat listens.

Slow Green Thing on Facebook

Slow Green Thing on Bandcamp

Ten Ton Slug, Colossal Oppressor

TEN TON SLUG COLOSSAL OPPRESSOR

Don’t expect a lot of trickery in Ten Ton Slug‘s awaited first full-length record, Colossal Oppressor, which delivers its metallic sludge pummel with due transparency of purpose. That is to say, the Galway, Ireland, trio aren’t fucking around. Enough so that Bolt Thrower‘s Karl Willetts shows up on a couple of songs. Varied but largely growled or screamed vocals answer the furious chug and thud of “Balor,” and while “Ghosts of the Ooze” later on answers back to the brief acoustic parts bookending opener “The Ooze” ahead of “Mallacht an tSloda” arriving like a sledgehammer only to unfold its darkened thrash and nine-plus-minute closer “Mogore the Unkind” making good on its initial threat with the mosh-ready riffing in its second half, there’s no pretense in those or any of the other turns Colossal Oppressor makes, and there doesn’t need to be when the songs are so refreshingly crushing. These guys have been around for over a decade already, so it’s not a surprise necessarily to find them so committed to this punishing mission, but the cathartic bloodletting resonates regardless. Not for everyone, very much for some on the more extreme end of heavy.

Ten Ton Slug on Facebook

Ten Ton Slug on Bandcamp

Magic Fig, Magic Fig

magic fig magic fig

Don’t let the outward Beatles-bouncing pop-psych friendly-acid traditionalism of “Goodbye Suzy” lull you into thinking San Francisco psych rockers Magic Fig‘s self-titled debut is solely concerned with vintage aesthetics. While accessible even in the organ-and-synth prog flourish of “PS1” — the keyboards alone seeming to span generations — and the more foreboding current of low end under the shuffle and soft vocals of “Obliteration,” the six-song/28-minute LP is no less effective in the rising cosmic expanse that builds into “Labyrinth” than the circa-’67 orange-sun lysergic folk-rock that rolls out from there — that darker edge comes back around, briefly, in a stop around the two-minute mark; it’s hard to know which side is imagining the other, but “Labyrinth” is no less fun for that — and “Distant Dream,” which follows, is duly transcendent and fluid. Given additional character via the Mellotron and birdsong-inclusive meditation that ends it and the album as a whole, “Departure” nonetheless feels intentional in its subtly synthy acoustic-and-voice folkish strum, and its intricacy highlights a reach one hopes Magic Fig will continue to nurture.

Magic Fig on Facebook

Silver Current Records on Bandcamp

Scorched Oak, Perception

Perception by Scorched Oak

If you followed along with Dortmund, Germany’s Scorched Oak on their 2020 debut, Withering Earth (review here), as that album dug into classic heavy rock as a means of longer-form explorations, some of what they present in the 39 minutes of Perception might make more sense. There was plenty of dynamic then too in terms of shifts in rhythm and atmosphere, and certainly second-LP pieces like “Mirrors” and “Relief” come at least in part from a similar foundation — I’d say the same of the crescendo verse of “Oracle” near the finish — but the reportedly-recorded-live newer offering finds the band making a striking delve into harder and more metallic impacts on the whole. An interplay of gruff — gurgling, almost — and soulful melodic vocals is laid out as opener/longest track (immediate points) “Delusion” resolves the brooding toms of its verse with post-metal surges. Perhaps it’s obvious enough that it doesn’t need to be said, but Scorched Oak aren’t residing in a single feel or progression throughout, and the intensity and urgency of “Reflection” land with a directness that the closing “Oracle” complements in its outward spread. The element of surprise makes Perception feel somewhat like a second debut, but that they pull off such an impression is in itself a noteworthy achievement, never mind how much less predictable it makes them or the significant magnitude of these songs.

Scorched Oak on Facebook

Scorched Oak on Bandcamp

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Quarterly Review: Slift, Grin, Pontiac, The Polvos, The Cosmic Gospel, Grave Speaker, Surya Kris Peters, GOZD, Sativa Root, Volt Ritual

Posted in Reviews on February 26th, 2024 by JJ Koczan

The-Obelisk-Quarterly-Review

Admittedly, there’s some ambition in my mind calling this the ‘Spring 2024 Quarterly Review.’ I’m done with winter and March starts on Friday, so yeah, it’s kind of a reach as regards the traditional seasonal patterns of Northern New Jersey where I live, but hell, these things actually get decided here by pissing off a rodent. Maybe it doesn’t need to be so rigidly defined after all.

After doing QRs for I guess about nine years now, I finally made myself a template for the back-end layout. It’s not a huge leap, but will mean about five more minutes I can dedicate to listening, and when you’re trying to touch on 50 records in the span of a work week and attempt some semblance of representing what they’re about, five minutes can help. Still, it’s a new thing, and if you see ‘ARTIST’ listed where a band’s name should be or LINK where ‘So and So on Facebook’ goes, a friendly comment letting me know would be helpful.

Thanks in advance and I hope you find something in all of this to come that speaks to you. I’ll try to come up for air at some point.

Quarterly Review #1-10:

Slift, Ilion

Slift Ilion

One of the few non-billionaire groups of people who might be able to say they had a good year in 2020, Toulouse, France, spaceblasters Slift signed to Sub Pop on the strength of that wretched year’s Ummon (review here) and the spectacle-laced live shows with which they present their material. Their ideology is cosmic, their delivery markedly epic, and Ilion pushes the blinding light and the rhythmic force directly at you, creating a sweeping momentum contrasted by ambient stretches like that tucked at the end of 12-minute hypnotic planetmaker “The Words That Have Never Been Heard,” the drone finale “Enter the Loop” or any number of spots between along the record’s repetition-churning, willfully-overblown 79-minute course of builds and surging payoffs. A cynic might tell you it’s not anything Hawkwind didn’t do in 1974 offered with modern effects and beefier tones, but, uh, is that really something to complain about? The hype around Ilion hasn’t been as fervent as was for Ummon — it’s a different moment — but Slift have set themselves on a progressive course and in the years to come, this may indeed become their most influential work. For that alone it’s among 2024’s most essential heavy albums, never mind the actual journey of listening. Bands like this don’t happen every day.

Slift on Facebook

Sub Pop Records website

Grin, Hush

grin hush

The only thing keeping Grin from being punk rock is the fact that they don’t play punk. Otherwise, the self-recording, self-releasing (on The Lasting Dose Records) Berlin metal-sludge slingers tick no shortage of boxes as regards ethic, commitment to an uncompromised vision of their sound, and on Hush, their fourth long-player which features tracks from 2023’s Black Nothingness (review here), they sharpen their attack to a point that reminds of dug-in Swedish death metal on “Pyramid” with a winding lead line threaded across, find post-metallic ambience in “Neon Skies,” steamroll with the groove of the penultimate “The Tempest of Time,” and manage to make even the crushing “Midnight Blue Sorrow” — which arrives after the powerful opening statement of “Hush” “Calice” and “Gatekeeper” — have a sense of creative reach. With Sabine Oberg on bass and Jan Oberg handling drums, guitar, vocals, noise and production, they’ve become flexible enough in their craft to harness raw charge or atmospheric sprawl at will, and through 16 songs and 40 minutes (“Portal” is the longest track at 3:45), their intensity is multifaceted, multi-angular, and downright ripping. Aggression suits this project, but that’s never all that’s happening in Grin, and they’re stronger for that.

Grin on Facebook

The Lasting Dose Records on Bandcamp

Pontiac, Hard Knox

pontiac hard knox

A debut solo-band outing from guitarist, bassist, vocalist and songwriter Dave Cotton, also of Seven Nines and Tens, Pontiac‘s Hard Knox lands on strictly limited tape through Coup Sur Coup Records and is only 16 minutes long, but that’s time enough for its six songs to find connections in harmony to Beach Boys and The Beatles while sometimes dropping to a singular, semi-spoken verse in opener/longest track (immediate points, even though four minutes isn’t that long) “Glory Ragged,” which moves in one direction, stops, reorients, and shifts between genres with pastoralism and purpose. Cotton handles six-string and 12-string, but isn’t alone in Pontiac, as his Seven Nines and Tens bandmate Drew Thomas Christie handles drums, Adam Vee adds guitar, drums, a Coke bottle and a Brita filter, and CJ Wallis contributes piano to the drifty textures of “Road High” before “Exotic Tattoos of the Millennias” answers the pre-christofascism country influence shown on “Counterculture Millionaire” with an oldies swing ramble-rolling to a catchy finish. For fun I’ll dare a wild guess that Cotton‘s dad played that stuff when he was a kid, as it feels learned through osmosis, but I have no confirmation of that. It is its own kind of interpretation of progressive music, and as the beginning of a new exploration, Cotton opens doors to a swath of styles that cross genres in ways few are able to do and remain so coherent. Quick listen, and it dares you to keep up with its changes and patterns, but among its principal accomplishments is to make itself organic in scope, with Cotton cast as the weirdo mastermind in the center. They’ll reportedly play live, so heads up.

Pontiac on Bandcamp

Coup Sur Coup Records on Bandcamp

The Polvos!, Floating

the polvos floating

Already fluid as they open with the rocker “Into the Space,” exclamatory Chilean five-piece The Polvos! delve into more psychedelic reaches in “Fire Dance” and the jammy and (appropriately) floaty midsection of “Going Down,” the centerpiece of their 35-minute sophomore LP, Floating. That song bursts to life a short time later and isn’t quite as immediate as the charge of “Into the Space,” but serves as a landmark just the same as “Acid Waterfall” and “The Anubis Death” hold their tension in the drums and let the guitars go adventuring as they will. There’s maybe some aspect of Earthless influence happening, but The Polvos! meld that make-it-bigger mentality with traditional verse/chorus structures and are more grounded for it even as the spaces created in the songs give listeners an opportunity for immersion. It may not be a revolution in terms of style, but there is a conversation happening here with modern heavy psych from Europe as well that adds intrigue, and the band never go so far into their own ether so as to actually disappear. Even after the shreddy finish of “The Anubis Death,” it kind of feels like they might come back out for an encore, and you know, that’d be just fine.

The Polvos! on Facebook

Surpop Records website

Smolder Brains Records on Bandcamp

Clostridium Records store

The Cosmic Gospel, Cosmic Songs for Reptiles in Love

The Cosmic Gospel Cosmic Songs for Reptiles in Love

With a current of buzz-fuzz drawn across its eight component tracks that allow seemingly disparate moves like the Blondie disco keys in “Hot Car Song” to emerge from the acoustic “Core Memory Unlocked” before giving over to the weirdo Casio-beat bounce of “Psychrolutes Marcidus Man,” a kind of ’60s character reimagined as heavy bedroom indie, The Cosmic Gospel‘s Cosmic Songs for Reptiles in Love isn’t without its resentments, but the almost-entirely-solo-project of Mercata, Italy-based multi-instrumentalist Gabriel Medina is more defined by its sweetness of melody and gentle delivery on the whole. An experiment like the penultimate “Wrath and Gods” carries some “Revolution 9” feel, but Medina does well earlier to set a broad context amid the hook of opener “It’s Forever Midnight” and the subsequent, lightly dub beat and keyboard focus on “The Richest Guy on the Planet is My Best Friend,” such that when closer “I Sew Your Eyes So You Don’t See How I Eat Your Heart” pairs the malevolent intent of its title with light fuzzy soloing atop an easy flowing, summery flow, the album has come to make its own kind of sense and define its path. This is exactly what one would most hope for it, and as reptiles are cold-blooded, they should be used to shifts in temperature like those presented throughout. Most humans won’t get it, but you’ve never been ‘most humans,’ have you?

The Cosmic Gospel on Facebook

Bloody Sound website

Grave Speaker, Grave Speaker

grave speaker grave speaker

Massachusetts garage doomers Grave Speaker‘s self-titled debut was issued digitally by the band this past Fall and was snagged by Electric Valley Records for a vinyl release. The Mellotron melancholia that pervades the midsection of the eponymous “Grave Speaker” justifies the wax, but the cult-leaning-in-sound-if-not-theme outfit that marks a new beginning for ex-High n’ Heavy guitarist John Steele unfurl a righteously dirty fuzz over the march of “Blood of Old” at the outset and then immediately up themselves in the riffy stoner delve of “Earth and Mud.” The blown-out vocals on the latter, as well as the far-off-mic rawness of “The Bard’s Theme” that surrounds its Hendrixian solo, remind of a time when Ice Dragon roamed New England’s troubled woods, and if Grave Speaker will look to take on a similar trajectory of scope, they do more than drop hints of psychedelia here, in “Grave Speaker” and elsewhere, but they’re no more beholden to that than the Sabbathism of capper “Make Me Crawl” or the cavernous echo of “Earthbound.” It’s an initial collection, so one expects they’ll range some either way with time, but the way the production becomes part of the character of the songs speaks to a strong idea of aesthetic coming through, and the songwriting holds up to that.

Grave Speaker on Instagram

Electric Valley Records website

Surya Kris Peters, There’s Light in the Distance

Surya Kris Peters There's Light in the Distance

While at the same time proffering his most expansive vision yet of a progressive psychedelia weighted in tone, emotionally expressive and able to move its focus fluidly between its layers of keyboard, synth and guitar such that the mix feels all the more dynamic and the material all the more alive (there’s an entire sub-plot here about the growth in self-production; a discussion for another time), Surya Kris Peters‘ 10-song/46-minute There’s Light in the Distance also brings the former Samsara Blues Experiment guitarist/vocalist closer to uniting his current projects than he’s yet been, the distant light here blurring the line where Surya Kris Peters ends and the emergently-rocking Fuzz Sagrado begins. This process has been going on for the last few years following the end of his former outfit and a relocation from Germany to Brazil, but in its spacious second half as well as the push of its first, a song like “Mode Azul” feels like there’s nothing stopping it from being played on stage beyond personnel. Coinciding with that are arrangement details like the piano at the start of “Life is Just a Dream” or the synth that gives so much movement under the echoing lead in “Let’s Wait Out the Storm,” as Peters seems to find new avenues even as he works his way home to his own vision of what heavy rock can be.

Fuzz Sagrado on Facebook

Electric Magic Records on Bandcamp

Gozd, Unilateralis

gozd unilateralis

Unilateralis is the four-song follow-up EP to Polish heavydelvers Gozd‘s late-2023 debut album, This is Not the End, and its 20-plus minutes find a place for themselves in a doom that feels both traditional and forward thinking across eight-minute opener and longest track (immediate points, even for an EP) “Somewhere in Between” before the charge of “Rotten Humanity” answers with brasher thrust and aggressive-undercurrent stoner rock with an airy post-metallic break in the middle and rolling ending. From there, “Thanatophobia” picks up the energy from its ambient intro and explodes into its for-the-converted nod, setting up a linear build after its initial verses and seeing it through with due diligence in noise, and closer “Tentative Minds” purposefully hypnotizes with its vague-speech in the intro and casual bassline and drum swing before the riff kicks in for the finale. The largesse of its loudest moments bolster the overarching atmosphere no less than the softest standalone guitar parts, and Gozd seem wholly comfortable in the spaces between microgenres. A niche among niches, but that’s also how individuality happens, and it’s happening here.

Gozd on Facebook

BSFD Records on Facebook

Sativa Root, Kings of the Weed Age

Sativa Root Kings of the Weed Age

You wouldn’t accuse Austria’s Sativa Root of thematic subtlety on their third album, Kings of the Weed Age, which broadcasts a stoner worship in offerings like “Megalobong” and “Weedotaur” and probably whatever “F.A.T.” stands for, but that’s not what they’re going for anyway. With its titular intro starting off, spoken voices vague in the ambience, “Weedotaur”‘s 11 minutes lumber with all due bong-metallian slog, and the crush becomes central to the proceedings if not necessarily unipolar in terms of the band’s approach. That is to say, amid the onslaught of volume and tonal density in “Green Smegma” and the spin-your-head soloing in “Assassins Weed” (think Assassins Creed), the instrumentalist course undertaken may be willfully monolithic, but they’re not playing the same song five times on six tracks and calling it new. “F.A.T.” begins on a quiet stretch of guitar that recalls some of YOB‘s epics, complementing both the intro and “Weedotaur,” before bringing its full weight down on the listener again as if to underscore the message of its stoned instrumental catharsis on its way out the door. They sound like they could do this all day. It can be overwhelming at times, but that’s not really a complaint.

Sativa Root on Facebook

Sativa Root on Bandcamp

Volt Ritual, Return to Jupiter

volt ritual return to jupiter

Comprised of guitarist/vocalist Mateusz, bassist Michał and drummer Tomek, Polish riffcrafters Volt Ritual are appealingly light on pretense as they offer Return to Jupiter‘s four tracks, and though as a Star Trek fan I can’t get behind their lyrical impugning of Starfleet as they imagine what Earth colonialism would look like to a somehow-populated Jupiter, they’re not short on reasons to be cynical, if in fact that’s what’s happening in the song. “Ghostpolis” follows the sample-laced instrumental opener “Heavy Metal is Good for You” and rolls loose but accessible even in its later shouts before the more uptempo “Gwiazdolot” swaps English lyrics for Polish (casting off another cultural colonialization, arguably) and providing a break ahead of the closing title-track, which is longer at 7:37 and a clear focal point for more than just bearing the name of the EP, summarizing as it does the course of the cuts before it and even bringing a last scream as if to say “Ghostpolis” wasn’t a fluke. Their 2022 debut album began with “Approaching Jupiter,” and this Return feels organically built off that while trying some new ideas in its effects and general structure. One hopes the plot continues in some way next time along this course.

Volt Ritual on Facebook

Volt Ritual on Bandcamp

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Quarterly Review: Tortuga, Spidergawd, Morag Tong, Conny Ochs, Ritual King, Oldest Sea, Dim Electrics, Mountain of Misery, Aawks, Kaliyuga Express

Posted in Reviews on November 30th, 2023 by JJ Koczan

The-Obelisk-Quarterly-Review

Generally I think of Thursday as the penultimate day of a given Quarterly Review. This one I was thinking of adding more days to get more stuff in ahead of year-end coverage coming up in December. I don’t know what that would do to my weekend — actually, yes I do — but sometimes it’s worth it. I’m yet undecided. Will let you know tomorrow, or perhaps not. Dork of mystery, I am.

Today is PACKED with cool sounds. If you haven’t found something yet that’s really hit you, it might be your day.

Quarterly Review #31-40:

Tortuga, Iterations

TORTUGA Iterations

From traditionalist proto-doom and keyboard-inflected prog to psychedelic jamming and the Mountain-style start-stop riff on “Lilith,” Poznań, Poland’s Tortuga follow 2020’s Deities (discussed here) with seven tracks and 45 minutes that come across as simple and barebones in the distortion of the guitar and the light reverb on the vocals, but the doom rock doesn’t carry from “Lilith” into “Laspes,” which has more of a ’60s psych crux, a mellow but not unjoyful meander in its first half turning to a massive lumber in the second, all the more elephantine with a solo overtop. They continue throughout to cross the lines between niches — “Quaus” has some dungeon growls, “Epitaph” slogs emotive like Pallbearer, etc. — and offer finely detailed performances in a sound malleable to suit the purposes of their songs. Polish heavy doesn’t screw around. Well, at least not any more than it wants to. Tortuga‘s creative reach becomes part of the character of the album.

Tortuga on Facebook

Napalm Records website

Spidergawd, VII

spidergawd vii

I’m sorry, I gotta ask: What’s the point of anything when Spidergawd can put out a record like VII and it’s business as usual? Like, the world doesn’t stop for a collective “holy shit” moment. Even in the heavy underground, never mind general population. These are the kinds of songs that could save lives if properly employed to do so, and for the Norwegian outfit, it’s just what they do. The careening hooks of “Sands of Time” and “The Tower” at the start, the melodies across the span. The energy. I guess this is dad rock? Shit man, I’m a dad. I’m not this cool. Spidergawd have seven records out and I feel like Metallica should’ve been opening for them at stadiums this past summer, but they remain criminally underrated and perhaps use that as flexibility around their pop-heavy foundation to explore new ideas. The last three songs on VII — “Afterburner,” “Your Heritage” and “…And Nothing But the Truth” — are among the strongest and broadest Spidergawd have ever done, and “Dinosaur” and the classic-metal ripper “Bored to Death” give them due preface. One of the best active heavy rock bands, living up to and surpassing their own high standards.

Spidergawd on Facebook

Stickman Records website

Crispin Glover Records website

Morag Tong, Grieve

Morag Tong Grieve

Rumbling low end and spacious guitar, slow flowing drums and contemplative vocals, and some charred sludge for good measure, mark out the procession of “At First Light” on Morag Tong‘s third album and first for Majestic Mountain Records, the four-song Grieve. Moving from that initial encapsulation through the raw-throat sludge thud of most of “Passages,” they crash out and give over to quiet guitar at about four minutes in and set up the transition to the low-end groove-cool of “A Stem’s Embrace,” a sleepy fluidity hitting its full voluminous crux after three minutes in, crushing from there en route to its noisy finish at just over nine minutes long. That would be the epic finisher of most records, but Morag Tong‘s grievances extend to the 20-minute “No Sun, No Moon,” which at 20 minutes is a full-length’s progression on its own. At very least the entirety of side B, but more than the actual runtime is the theoretical amount of space covered as the four-piece shift from ambient drone through huge plod and resolve the skyless closer with a crushing delve into post-sludge atmospherics. That’s as fitting an end as one could ask for an offering that so brazenly refuses to follow impulses other than its own.

Morag Tong on Facebook

Majestic Mountain Records store

Conny Ochs, Wahn Und Sinn

Conny Ochs Wahn Und Sinn

The nine-song Wahn Und Sinn carries the distinction of being the first full-length from German singer-songwriter Conny Ochs — also known for his work in Ananda Mida and his collaboration with Wino — to be sung in his own language. As a non-German speaker, I won’t pretend that doesn’t change the listening experience, but that’s the idea. Words and melodies in different languages take on corresponding differences in character, and so in addition to appreciating the strings, pianos, acoustic and electric guitars, and, in the case of “Welle,” a bit of static noise in a relatively brief electronic soundscape, hearing Ochs‘ delivery no less emotive for switching languages on the cinematic “Grimassen,” or the lounge drama of “Ding” earlier on, it’s a new side from a veteran figure whose “experimentalism” — and no, I’m not talking about singing in your own language as experimental, I’m talking about Trialogos there — is backburnered in favor of more traditional, still rampantly melancholy pop arrangements. It sounds like someone who’s decided they can do whatever the hell they feel like their songs should making that a reality. Only an asshole would hold not speaking the language against that.

Conny Ochs on Facebook

Exile on Mainstream website/a>

Ritual King, The Infinite Mirror

ritual king the infinite mirror

I’m going to write this review as though I’m speaking directly to Ritual King because, well, I am. Hey guys. Congrats on the record. I can hear a ton going on with it. Some of Elder‘s bright atmospherics and rhythmic twists, some more familiar stoner riffage repurposed to suit a song like “Worlds Divide” after “Flow State” calls Truckfighters to mind, the songs progressive and melodic. The way you keep that nod in reserve for “Landmass?” That’s what I’m talking about. Here’s some advice you didn’t ask for: Keep going. I’m sure you have big plans for next year, and that’s great, and one thing leads to the next. You’re gonna have people for the next however long telling you what you need to do. Do what feels right to you, and keep in mind the decisions that led you to where you are, because you’re right there, headed to the heart of this thing you’re discovering. Two records deep there’s still a lot of potential in your sound, but I think you know a track like “Tethered” is a victory on its own, and that as big as “The Infinite Mirror” gets at the end, the real chance it takes is in the earlier vocal melody. You’re a better band than people know. Just keep going. Thanks.

Ritual King on Facebook

Ripple Music website

Oldest Sea, A Birdsong, A Ghost

oldest sea a birdsong a ghost cropped

Inhabiting the sort of alternately engulfing and minimal spaces generally occupied by the likes of Bell Witch, New Jersey’s Oldest Sea make their full-length debut with A Birdsong, A Ghost and realize a bleakness of mood that is affecting even in its tempo, seeming to slow the world around it to its own crawl. The duo of Samantha Marandola and Andrew Marandola, who brought forth their Strange and Eternal EP (review here) in 2022, find emotive resonance in a death-doom build through the later reaches of “Untracing,” but the subsequent three-minute-piece-for-chorus-and-distorted-drone “Astronomical Twilight” and the similarly barely-there-until-it-very-much-is closer “Metamorphose” mark out either end of the extremes while “The Machines That Made Us Old” echoes Godflesh in its later riffing as Samantha‘s voice works through screams en route to a daringly hopeful drone. Volatile but controlled, it is a debut of note for its patience and vulnerability as well as its deep-impact crash and consuming tone.

Oldest Sea on Facebook

Darkest Records on Bandcamp

Dim Electrics, Dim Electrics

dim electrics dim electrics

Each track on Dim Electrics‘ self-titled five-songer LP becomes a place to rest for a while. No individual piece is lacking activity, but each cut has room for the listener to get inside and either follow the interweaving aural patterns or zone out as they will. Founded by Mahk Rumbae, the Vienna-based project is meditative in the sense of basking in repetition, but flashes like the organ in the middle of “Saint” or the shimmy that takes hold in 18-minute closer “Dream Reaction” assure it doesn’t reside in one place for too much actual realtime, of which it’s easy to lose track when so much krautgazey flow is at hand. Beginning with ambience, “Ways of Seeing” leads the listener deeper into the aural chasm it seems to have opened, and the swirling echoes around take on a life of their own in the ecosystem of some vision of space rock that’s also happening under the ground — past and future merging as in the mellotron techno of “Memory Cage” — which any fool can tell you is where the good mushrooms grow. Dug-in, immersive, engaging if you let it be; Dim Electrics feels somewhat insular in its mind-expansion, but there’s plenty to go around if you can put yourself in the direction it’s headed.

Dim Electrics on Facebook

Sulatron Records webstore

Mountain of Misery, In Roundness

Mountain of Misery In Roundness

A newcomer project from Kamil Ziółkowski, also known for his contributions as part of Polish heavy forerunners Spaceslug, the tone-forward approach of Mountain of Misery might be said to be informed by Ziółkowski‘s other project in opener “Not Away” or the penultimate “Climb by the Sundown,” with their languid vocals and slow-rolling tsunami fuzz in the spirit of heavy psych purveyors Colour Haze and even more to the point Sungrazer, but the howling guitar in the crescendo of closer “The Misery” and the all-out assault of “Hang So Low” distinguish the band all around. “The Rain is My Love” sways in the album’s middle, but it’s in “Circle in Roundness” that the 36-minute LP has its most subdued stretch, letting the spaces filled with fuzz elsewhere remain open as the verse builds atop the for-now-drumless expanse. Whatever familiar aspects persist, Mountain of Misery is its own band, and In Roundness is the exciting beginning of a new creative evolution.

Mountain of Misery on Facebook

Electric Witch Mountain Recordings on Facebook

Aawks, Luna

aawks luna

The featured new single, “The Figure,” finds Barrie, Ontario’s Aawks somewhere between Canadian tonal lords Sons of Otis and the dense heavy psych riffing and melodic vocals of an act like Snail, and if you think I’m about to complain about that, you’ve very clearly never been to this site before. So hi, and welcome. The four-song Luna EP is Aawks‘ second short release of 2023 behind a split with Aiwass (review here), and the trio take on Flock of Seagulls and Pink Floyd for covers of the new wave radio hit “I Ran” and the psychedelic ur-classic “Julia Dream” before a live track, “All is Fine,” rounds out. As someone who’s never seen the band live, the additional crunch falls organic, and brings into relief the diversity Aawks show in and between these four songs, each of which inhabits a place in the emerging whole of the band’s persona. I don’t know if we’ll get there, but sign me up for the Canadian heavy revolution if this is the form it’s going to take.

Aawks on Facebook

Black Throne Productions website

Kaliyuga Express, Warriors & Masters

Kaliyuga Express Warriors and Masters

The collaborative oeuvre of UK doomsperimental guitarist Mike Vest (Bong, Blown Out, Ozo, 11Paranoias, etc.) grows richer as he joins forces with Finnish trio Nolla to produce Kaliyuga ExpressWarriors & Masters, which results in three tracks across two sides of far-out cosmic fuzz, shades of classic kraut and space rocks are wrought with jammy intention; the goal seeming to be the going more than the being gone as Vest and company burn through “Nightmare Dimensions” and the shoegazing “Behind the Veil” — the presence of vocals throughout is a distinguishing feature — hums in high and low frequencies in a repetitive inhale of stellar gases on side A while the 18:58 side B showdown “Endless Black Space” misdirects with a minute of cosmic background noise before unfurling itself across an exoplanet’s vision of cool and returning, wait for it, back to the drone from whence it came. Did you know stars are recycled all the time? Did you know that if you drop acid and peel your face off there’s another face underneath? Your third eye is googly. You can hear voices in the drones. Let me know what they tell you.

Kaliyuga Express on Facebook

Riot Season Records store

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