Set to release on Valentine’s Day — and who says chunky-style instrumentalist heavy progressive psychedelic rock isn’t for lovers? — Les Efímeres is the third album from Barcelona cosmic twisters We Are Impala. The Jetglow Recordings outing runs a stately 48 minutes and takes the time it wants to take to say what it wants to say, offering variety and adventure, whimsy and wistfulness, hard crunch and pastoralia along the sometimes-angular-but-well-guided trajectory. It is something of a rollercoaster, but like a rollercoaster, the truth of the thing is the solidity of the tracks on which it’s running — ideally, and in this case.
And as “La Dansa de les Efímeres: Part 1” shows, it doesn’t always have to be one or the other, as the guitars of Xevi Strings and Albert Martínez-López weave through a kind of busy serenity, airy in the outreach of echo and weighted in the impact of Jon Ander Soto Corral‘s drumming and the low midsection fuzz of Mauro Pinto Risco‘s bass. If it were easy to pin down, it wouldn’t have the fluidity it does, but in an age where space metal and boogie shuffle don’t have to be mutually exclusive, they aren’t. “Contra la Tirania del Domèstic” (video premiering below) pulls together Earthless-style vitality and a drift that feels more of the Pelican/Russian Circles school and is informed by some regional influence, while the preceding 10-minute wailer “Cim i Tomba” comes on swinging and big in tone, a kind of urgent lurch setting the backdrop for a wah barrage. Yeah and that’s like in 40 seconds, so it’s quite the journey to be undertaken when you really go along with it.
That said, the central question with Les Efímeres doesn’t seem to me to be about how far out the band can go and still be able to keep a song together — “Cim i Tomba” has more sprawl in the ensuing 10 minutes than some careers can claim — but how far is the listener willing to go to meet them. This is where the quieter stretches like “El Vol” at the introduction or “A Flor d’Aigua” before “La Dansa de les Efímeres: Part 2” jams melancholy on the way to opening up a maw of fuzz that’s surely large enough swallow the album in its entirety but nonetheless and that maybe it does since the brief outro “El Dol” drops to minimal, almost new-agey drone, rising to a volume that’s still pretty low compared to, say, the shimmer, jangle and thrust of “La Sala dels Miralls” earlier on, but that is enough to give a sense of dynamic just the same, and it’s telling that even at We Are Impala‘s stillest, they retain some feeling of restlessness.
But restless doesn’t always mean chaotic. We Are Impala have enough control over what they show here to convey intention — that is, the songs don’t sound haphazard or lazy or unconsidered; the album was recorded live but it doesn’t feel made up on the spot in its entirety — but they’re not without their sense of challenge and they’re not dumbing down their exploration to capitulate to some imaginary-in-the-first-place notion of accessibility. Rather, the complexity of Les Efímeres‘ course front-to-back is one of the aspects most encouraging in terms of repeat listens as well — they’re not the first or by any means alone in the sphere of modern heavy prog-psych to deliver more to the active rather than casual listener — and though one might still come out the other end of the LP with questions like, “is that keyboard or guitar under the lead line late in ‘Contra la Tirania del Domèstic’ and what does it say about me that I’m asking?,” it is a healthy and refreshing plunge to take, cerebral but not at the expense of the passion that made them start playing in the first place. And tonally alive.
Album credits and more info follow beneath the embed below, courtesy of the PR wire, as well as live dates hoisted from socials.
Please enjoy:
We Are Impala, “Contra la Tirania del Domèstic” track premiere
Barcelona’s four piece We Are Impala are a whirlwind of fierce improvisers and odd-time signature players who love to explore new sonic structures. The ensemble blends the uncompromising heaviness of noise making with a distinctly savoir-faire rooted upon the Mediterranean way of living
Now with a freshly renewed formation and heading all the efforts into their third full-length assault Les Efímeres, a fractal dialogue between abrasive guitar outbursts and endless grooves within an ecstatic pace. This will be their third and most ambitious full-length up to date, running across 50 minutes long divided into 8 tracks.
The songs were boldly captured live and mixed by reputed catalan engineer Santi Garcia at Ultramarinos Costa Brava Studios, in the vibrant seaside town of Sant Feliu de Guíxols. Victor Garcia did an impeccable work mastering the album at Ultramarinos Mastering Barcelona and preserving all the natural chemistry, efficacy and dynamics of the original sessions.
The record will be released on all streaming platforms on 14th February 2025.
Limited 2xLP and CD releases through Jetglow Recordings.
Here’s the complete tracklist:
1. El Vol 2. Cim i Tomba 3. Contra la Tirania del Domèstic 4. La Sala dels Miralls 5. La Dansa de les Efímeres: Part I 6. A Flor d’Aigua 7. La Dansa de les Efímeres: Part II 8. El Dol
All songs written and performed by We Are Impala Recorded live and mixed by Santi Garcia at Ultramarinos Costa Brava Mastered by Victor Garcia at Ultramarinos Mastering Barcelona Photography by Albert-Martínez-López Artwork by We Are Impala
WE ARE IMPALA – LES EFÍMERES 2025 📍21.02. Madrid + Alber Jupiter | @elperroclubmad 📍22.02. Castelló + Alber Jupiter | @becausepopnroll 📍14.03. Barcelona + TBC | @salavol 📍29.03. Canet de Mar + TBC | Jardí de Villaflora
We Are Impala is: Xevi Strings: Electric guitar Jon Ander Soto Corral: Drums and percussions Mauro Pinto Risco: Electric bass Albert Martínez-López: Electric guitar
Barcelona-based classic heavy rockers The Mothercrow will release their second album, Foráneo, in Sept. 17 through Discos Macarras and LaRubia Producciones. I won’t pretend to have a full grasp on the lineup changes and shifts in methodology that have taken place within the band since their debut, Magara, came out in 2019 — vocalist Karen Asensio and guitarist/backing vocalist Max Eriksson have at least traded out rhythm sections since then; Jaume Darder is on drums and Daniel Ribeiro handles bass this time around — but it’s all apparently been in the works for a while, as lead-single “Howling” began to come together at the dawn of the decade and the video for it premiering below was filmed a little over year ago, in the deserty-looking Monegros region, westward inland from Spain’s east coast.
The setting makes sense, and desert-plus-riffs shouldn’t be a giant mental leap to make for denizens of the heavy rock underground, but if they’d filmed “Howling” in a dimly lit blues bar, I don’t think you’d be able to say they were wrong. Of course, that ’70s-born swagger does just fine baking in a hot sun, and kudos to The Mothercrow for even lugging speaker cabinets all the way out there to perform in front of rock formations casting long afternoon shadows, but the point is there’s more going on with the track than the desert visual holds, striking as it is. The swinging groove and sultry melody come across like a combination born for trouble, and one suspects that’s the impression they’re looking to make. I haven’t heard the rest of Foráneo, so can’t speak to how “Howling” fits on the record as a whole, but certainly Magara had intertwining moments of greater and lesser charge, and I’d expect no less dynamic to show itself on the follow-up, despite personnel swapping in and out of the lineup.
A release show for Foráneo is set for Sept. 27 at El Sótano in Madrid with The White Coven, so if you’re looking for something beyong the exact issue date, that’ll probably work. As for preorders and all the rest, keep an eye out as they’re surely coming soon, and in the meantime, maybe it’s cool to just dig into the clip below and let tomorrow worry about tomorrow, as no doubt it would anyway.
Please, enjoy:
The Mothercrow, “Howling” video premiere
The Mothercrow on “Howling”:
The essence of Howling came about as an attempt to write a song with a propulsive groove that drives steadily forward, like an old steam train. Going Down by Freddie King is perhaps the most obvious influence, but unlike it, it’s far away from the standard blues progression.
The song was one of the first to be completed, and we even recorded a demo of it back in 2020, using a professional recording studio. Unfortunately it never saw the light of day, since we were far from happy with the result. We did however learn our lesson and could identify exactly what we needed to improve for the next time we went into the studio.
Everyone felt that there was a sexual swagger about the beat that needed further exploring, so we decided to write a fitting lyric. Forbidden attraction became the overall topic, with some sexual innuendos more subtle than others. We tried to have fun with it and make something playful that would do the song justice. It’s also our first song that relies heavily on shouted backing vocals, perhaps another reference to the blues.
During the recording session, percussion instruments were added to propel the beat further, and even a stand up piano was added as a final touch to the end. Howling always felt like a single to us, so it was an obvious choice when we were going to record our first music video for this album. We went four hours by car out in the desert of Monegros, to find the perfect location.
VIDEO CREDITS Directed and Edited by: Ismael Conejero Direction of Photography: Cultural Dogs Colour graded by Víctor Gómez Produced by: Muricec Films & The Mothercrow
Released by Discos Marcarras Records & LaRubiaProducciones
The Mothercrow: Karen Asensio – vocals Max Eriksson – guitar Jaume Darder – drums Daniel Ribeiro – bass
Somewhere between blissprog, ethereal folk melodicism and cult-adjacent mystique, Magick Brother & Mystic Sister offer the first of a two-installment cycle of releases in the form of Tarot Pt. 1 (review here). Issued through Sound Effect Records, the subtly ambitious and sprawling 11-song outing follows the Barcelona group’s 2020 self-titled debut (discussed here) and leads off with the welcoming spirit of its longest track (immediate points) in “The Fool.” And while the opener doesn’t necessarily account for everything that happens arrangement-wise as the album unfolds, whether it’s the lush vocals of “The High Priestess,” the sitar drone flourish at the start of “The Empress,” the cinematic mellotron-and-maybe-xylophone drama of “The Lover,” or the flute-inclusive jazzy swing behind the later “The Justice,” it is a gateway through which one passes en route to that righteous succession.
Patient from its initial fade-in onward, “The Fool” is perhaps intended as a whole-record intro, or just wound up fitting as one when it was finished, I don’t know, but it works in that spot regardless. The first minute, before the drums arrive, builds up around a soft keyboard line, and it’s not so long before the gentle vocals begin the first verse, but by the time they do, offset by washes of synth and effects-guitar contemplations, clarity through strikes of keyboard/piano, the feeling is both traditionalist and futuristic, hopeful with an edge of melancholy. I know precious little about the tarot, but the cosmic-feeling vibe of lyrics like “I have no land/I have a star” is well accounted for in the surrounding krautrock-and-classic-prog instrumental movement, leaning into the psychedelic with some backwards looping and mostly-mindful drift before easing through the last bits of soloing and final drone. On the album — which you can stream below — “The Magician” tops that wind with an urgency of chimes soon answered by lead electric guitar, but maybe that’s something best left for you to discover on your own.
I don’t have a release date for Tarot Pt. 2, but even in telling only half the sonic story they ultimately will, Magick Brother & Mystic Sister fully embrace their audience and harness a sense of world-creation without subsuming craft to exploration or to theme. That is to say, they’re far out like way far out, but solid enough in the structuring of the material that there’s more on offer than far-outness, and while the songs are tied together in being named for cards in the tarot deck, the resulting front-to-back impression of Tarot Pt. 1 is such that they are distinguished in their individual scopes while enriching the whole work. And for a record like this — or for half of one, as it were — that’s more or less the ideal.
Enjoy “The Fool” below, with the aforementioned album stream near the links at the bottom of this post. Before I turn to you over to it, a note of appreciation to Magick Brother & Mystic Sister and Sound Effect Records for being flexible on scheduling this premiere around my traveling schedule. It is appreciated.
Speaking of travels, happy trails:
Magick Brother & Mystic Sister, “The Fool” video premiere
Zero the hero. The adventurer walks aimlessly near the cosmic void The Fool was one of the first compositions we did for Tarot. The idea arose from a hypnotic rhythmic base with galactic guitars and synths to convey the feeling born from the stars.
The Fool
I look for a time I have no land I have a star
under the sun I lay beside blades of grass
In the cold land I walk alone in circles
out of time I have no land I have a star
Magic Brother & Mystic Sister are: Xavi Sandoval: bass and guitars Eva Muntada: piano, synthesizers, organ & vocals Alejandro Carmona: drums Carlos G de Marcos: lyrics
Magick Brother & Mystic Sister, Tarot Pt. 1 (2024)
Alright, back at it. Putting together yesterday over the weekend was more scattershot than I’d prefer, but one might say the same of parenting in general, so I’ll leave it at that. Still, as happens with Quarterly Reviews, we got there. That my wife gave me an extra 40 minutes to bang out the Wizzerd video premiere was appreciated. As always, she makes everything possible.
Compared to some QRs, there are a few ‘bigger’ releases here. You’ll note High on Fire leading off today. That trend will continue over this and next week with the likes of Pallbearer, Uncle Acid, Bongripper, Harvestman (Steve Von Till, ex-Neurosis), Inter Arma, Saturnalia Temple spread throughout. The Pelican two-songer and My Dying Bride back to back a week from today. That’ll be a fun one. As always, it’s about the time crunch for me for what goes in the Quarterly Review. Things I want to cover before it’s too late that I can fit here. Ain’t nobody holding their breath for my opinion on any of it, or on anything generally for that matter, but I’m not trying to slight well known bands by stuffing them into what when it started over a decade ago I thought would be a catchall for demos and EPs. Sometimes I like the challenge of a shorter word count, too.
And I remind myself here again nobody really cares. Fine, let’s go.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
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High on Fire, Cometh the Storm
What seems at first to be business as usual for High on Fire‘s fourth album produced by Kurt Ballou, fifth for MNRK Heavy (formerly E1), and ninth overall, gradually reveals itself to be the band’s tonally heaviest work in at least the last 15 years. What’s actually new is drummer Coady Willis (Big Business, Melvins) making his first studio appearance alongside founding guitarist/vocalist Matt Pike (Sleep, Pike vs. the Automaton) and long-tenured bassist/backing vocalist Jeff Matz (also saz on the instrumental interlude-plus “Karanlik Yol”), and for sure Willis‘ thud in “Trismegistus,” galloping intensity in the thrashy and angular “The Beating” and declarative stomp beneath the big slowdown of 10-minute closer “Darker Fleece” is part of it, but from the way Pike and Matz bring “Cometh the Storm’ and “Sol’s Golden Curse” in the record’s middle to such cacophonous ends, the three-and-a-half-minute face-kick that is “Lightning Beard” and the suckerpunch that starts off with “Lambsbread,” to how even the more vocally melodic “Hunting Shadows” is carried on a wave of filthy, hard-landing distortion, their ferocity is reaffirmed in thicker grooves and unmitigated pummel. While in some ways this is what one would expect, it’s also everything for which one might hope from High on Fire a quarter-century on from their first demo. Triumph.
A release concurrent to a remastered edition of their 2016 debut, Lemanis (review here), only puts into emphasis how much Spaceslug have come into their own over eight productive years. Recorded by drummer/vocalist Kamil Ziółkowski (also Mountain of Misery), with guitarist/vocalist Bartosz Janik and bassist/vocalist Jan Rutka dug into familiar tonal textures throughout five tracks and a quick but inevitably full-length-flowing 32 minutes, Out of Water is both otherworldly and emotionally evocative in the rollout of “Arise the Sun” following the intertwined shouts of opener “Tears of Antimatter,” and in keeping with their progression, they nudge toward metallic aggression as a way to solidify their heavy psychedelic aspects. “Out of Water” is duly mournful to encapsulate such a tragic notion, and the nod of “Delusions” only grows more forcefully applied after the return from that song’s atmospheric break, and while they depart with “In Serenity” to what feels like the escapism of sunnier riffing, even that becomes more urgent toward the album’s finish. The reason it works is they’re bending genre to their songs, not the other way around, and as Spaceslug mature as a group, they’ve become one of Poland’s most essential heavy acts.
First issued on CD through JM Records in 2023, Lie Heavy‘s debut album, Burn to the Moon, sees broader release through Heavy Psych Sounds with revamped art to complement the Raleigh, North Carolina, four-piece’s tonal heft and classic reach in pieces like “In the Shadow” and “The Long March,” respectively. The band is fronted by Karl Agell (vocalist for C.O.C.‘s 1991 Blind album and now also in The Skull-offshoot Legions of Doom), and across the 12-song/51-minute run, and whether it’s the crunch of the ripper “When the Universe Cries” or the Clutch-style heavy funk of “Chunkadelic” pushing further from the start-stops of “In the Shadow” or the layered crescendo of “Unbeliever” a short time later, he and bassist/vocalist TR Gwynne, guitarist/vocalist Graham Fry and drummer/vocalist Jeff “JD” Dennis deliver sans-pretense riff-led fare. They’re not trying to fix what wasn’t broken in the ’90s, to be sure, but you can’t really call it a retread either as they swing through “Drag the World” and its capstone counterpart “End the World”; it all goes back to Black Sabbath anyway. The converted will get it no problem.
Dublin, Ireland, trio Burning Realm mark their first release with the four-song Face the Fire EP, taking the cosmic-tinged restlessness of Wild Rocket and setting it alongside more grounded riffing, hinting at thrash in the ping ride on “From Beyond” but careening in the modern mode either way. Lead cut “Homosapien” gives Hawkwindian vibes early — the trap, which is sounding like Slift, is largely avoided, though King Gizzard may still be relevant as an influence — but smoothly gives over to acoustics and vocal drone once its urgency has bene vaporized, and spacious as the vocal echo is, “Face the Fire” is classic stoner roll even into its speedier ending, the momentum of which is continued in closer “Warped One (Arise),” which is more charged on the whole in a way that feels linear and intended in relation to what’s put before it. A 16-minute self-released introduction to who Burning Realm are now, it holds promise for how they might develop stylistically and grow in terms of range. Whatever comes or doesn’t, it’s easy enough to dig as it is. If you were at a show and someone handed you the tape, you’d be stoked once you put it on in the car. Also it’s like 1995 in that scenario, apparently.
Offered through an international consortium of record labels that includes Crême Brûlée Records in the band’s native France, Echodelick in the US, Clostridium in Germany and Weird Beard in the UK, French heavy psych thrusters Kalac‘s inaugural full-length, Odyssée — also stylized all-caps — doesn’t leave much to wonder why so many imprints might want some for the distro. With a focus on rhythmic movement in the we-gotta-get-to-space-like-five-minutes-ago modus of current-day heavy neo-space-rock, the mostly instrumental procession hypnotizes even as it peppers its expanses with verses here or there. That might be most effectively wrought in the payoff noiseblaster wash of “II,” which I’m just going to assume opens side B, but the boogie quotient is strong from “Arguenon” to “Beautiful Night,” and while might ring familiar to others operating in the aesthetic galaxial quadrant, the energy of Kalac‘s delivery and the not-haphazard-but-not-always-in-the-same-spot-either placement of the vocals are enough to distinguish them and make the six-tracker as exciting to hear as it sounds like it probably was to record.
The live-tracked fourth outing from Helsinki psych improvisationalists Alkuräjähdys, the lowercase-stylized ehdot. blends mechanical and electronic sounds with more organic psychedelic jamming, the synth and bassier punchthrough in the midsection of opening piece “.matriisi” indeed evocative of the dot-matrix printer to which its title is in reference, while “központ,” which follows, meanders into a broader swath of guitar-based noise atop a languidly graceful roll of drums. That let’s-try-it-slower ideology is manifest in the first half of the duly two-sided “a-b” as well, as the 12-minute finale begins by lurching through the denser distortion of a central riff en route to a skronk-jazz transition to a tighter midtempo groove that I’ll compare to Endless Boogie and very much intend that as a compliment. I don’t think they’re out to change the world so much as get in a room, hit it and see where the whole thing ends up, but those are noble creative aims in concept and practice, and between the two guitars, effects, synth and whathaveyou, there’s plenty of weird to go around.
Already a significant undertaking as a 95-minute 2LP running 11 tracks themed — as the title(s) would hint — around tarot cards, the mostly serene sprawl of Magick Brother & Mystic Sister‘s Tarot Pt. 1 is still just the first of two companion albums to be issued as the follow-up to the Barcelona outfit’s 2020 self-titled debut (discussed here). Offered through respected Greek purveyor Sound Effect Records, Tarot Pt. 1 gives breadth beyond just the runtime in the sitar-laced psych-funk of “The Hierophant” (swap sitar for organ, synth and flute on “The Chariot”) and the classic-prog pastoralia of closer “The Wheel of Fortune,” and as with the plague-era debut, at the heart of the material is a soothing acid folk, and while the keys in the first half of “The Emperor” grow insistent and there’s some foreboding in the early Mellotron and key lines of “The Lovers,” Tarot Pt. 1 resonates comfort and care in its arrangements as well as ambition in its scope. Maybe another hour and a half on the way? Sign me up.
The eight-year distance from their 2016 debut long-player, Little Cliffs, seems to have smoothed out some (not all, which isn’t a complaint) of the rough edges in Amigo‘s sound, as the seemingly reinvigorated San Diego four-piece of lead guitarist/vocalist Jeff Podeszwik (King Chiefs), guitarist Anthony Mattos, bassist Sufi Karalen and drummer Anthony Alley offer five song across an accessible, straightforward 17 minutes united beneath the fair-enough title of Good Time Island. Without losing the weight of their tones, a Weezery pop sensibility comes through in “Dope Den” while “Frog Face” is even more specifically indebted to The Cars. Neither “Telescope Boy” nor “Banana Phone” lacks punch, but Amigo hold some in reserve for “Me and Soof,” which rounds out the proceedings, and they put it to solid use for an approach that’s ’90s-informed without that necessarily meaning stoner, grunge or alt, and envision a commercially relevant, songwriting-based heavy rock and roll for an alternate universe that, by all accounts here, sounds like a decent place to be.
Culminating in the Sabbathian shuffle of “Eye for an Eye,” Wild Fever is the hook-drenched third full-length from Montreal fuzzbringers The Hazytones, and while they’ve still got the ‘tones’ part down pat, it’s easy to argue the eight included tracks are the least ‘hazy’ they’ve been to-date. Following on from the direction of 2018’s II: Monarchs of Oblivion (review here), the Esben Willems-mixed/Kent Stump-mastered 40-minute long-player isn’t shy about leaning into the grittier side of what they do as the opening title-track rolls out a chorus that reminds of C.O.C. circa In the Arms of God while retaining some of the melody between the vocals of Mick Martel (also guitar and keys) and Gabriel Prieur (also drums and bass), and with the correspondingly thick bass of Caleb Sanders for accompaniment and lead guitarist John Choffel‘s solo rising out of the murk on “Disease,” honing in on the brashness suits them well. Not where one might have expected them to end up six years later, but no less enjoyable for that, either.
God damn that’s harsh. Mostly anonymous industrialists — you get F and N for names and that’s it — All Are to Return are all the more punishing in the horrific recesses and engulfing blasts of static that populate III than they were in 2022’s II (review here), and the fact that the eight-songer is only 32 minutes long is about as close as they come to any concept of mercy for the psyche of their audience. Beyond that, “Moratorium,” “Colony Collapse,” the eats-you-dead “Archive of the Sky” and even the droning “Legacy” cast a willfully wretched extremity, and what might be a humanizing presence of vocals elsewhere is screams channeled through so much distortion as to be barely recognizable as coming from a human throat here. If the question being posed is, “how much can you take?,” the answer for most of those brave enough to even give III a shot will be, “markedly less than this.” A cry from the depths realizing a brutal vision.
[Click play above to stream Maragda’s second album, Tyrants in full. It’s out tomorrow through Spinda Records. Preorders available here.]
In the parlance of our times, Tyrants might be Maragda entering the chat. And in this case, the “chat” in question is the broader European heavy psychedelic underground with which the eight tracks and 43 minutes so vividly engage, from the bass-underscored shuffle and chorus burst of the opening title-track (premiered here) through the expansive spacier jamming of “Godspeed,” and well beyond. For the Barcelona-based three-piece of bassist/vocalist/synthesist Marçal Itarte, guitarist/vocalist/synthesist Guillem Tora and drummer/vocalist Xavi Pasqual (who would probably play synth too if his hands weren’t already busy), Tyrants is the follow-up to 2021’s impressive full-length debut (review here), and it takes on modern cosmic prog, psych and space rocks from a variety of angles in the songwriting, with varied arrangements, howling solos, and memorable hooks in cuts like “Tyrants,” “Endless,” and “The Singing Mountain,” among others spread throughout that aren’t necessarily just catchy choruses. A keyboard line, a standout lyric (as with the debut, the lyrics are in English), the freneticism in the build of “Sunset Room,” on and on. It’s all fair game in imprinting itself on the mind of the listener, and moreover, it feels intentional in that.
A roiling dynamic is able to account for the wah-drenched rush in the second half of “Skirmish,” the righteous fuzz of “My Only Link,” the mellotron that sneaks into “Endless,” all the ensuing melodic and rhythmic turns and an overarching progression which, for the many pivots between and sometimes within the songs themselves, flows with a sense of purpose. Stylistically, Tyrants touches on classics from The Beatles to Hawkwind (thinking the jangly strums and vocal pattern of “My Only Link” for the latter, the later guitar solo in the same song for the former) while remaining aware of modern forerunners like Elder, King Gizzard or Slift, and has enough range so that when the twisting leads of closer “Loose” bring a particularly flamenco-rooted feel, rather than come across as out of place, it enriches the fleetfooted rhythm of “The Singing Mountain” and “Godspeed” just prior, adding to the context of the front-to-back listening experience. Especially when one factors in the production helmed by the much-respected Richard Behrens at Big Snuff Studio (Elder, front-of-house for Kadavar, much etc.) in Berlin, Germany, to which the band traveled from Spain to record, and the subsequent master by Peter Deimel at Black Box Studios — who also finalized the self-titled — Maragda seem to be upfront in their outreach to the Eurozone underground scene. They sound like they want to play all the festivals, in all the countries. Yes, that includes yours.
Yet, they’re not cloying in that. The howling scorch that begins “Skirmish” and the vocal layering of the verse that follow are an earnest clarion. Following the digging-in as represented by the verses and the way the chorus takes flight from there, those early moments of “Skirmish” make a bold callout to the converted — perhaps most of all to the heads who think they’ve heard it all before — but Tyrants goes deeper than superficially highlighting aspects of current-day psych-prog in this material, and it does not sacrifice the folkier aspects that have long typified Spanish psychedelia in order to fit with some idea of whatever a phrase like “current-day psych-prog” might evoke for a different listener.
They are themselves in it, however far outside Iberia their influences might reach stylistically or geographically, and even as Tyrants sends out dogwhistles in working with Behrens, putting the words in English, the lush vocal melodicism before “The Sleeping Mountain” gives over to its no-less-lush instrumental ending, and so on, the needs of the song are never measured as less than the message being sent by the album as a whole. As a collection, Tyrants ends up nowhere that Maragda don’t want it to go, and whether you have a background in Spain’s history in folk, psych or rock more generally — to be clear, I don’t — the songs are likewise accessible and encompassing.
If that makes Tyrants sound like it’s somehow educational, that’s part of it, at least on the hearing end. Even in the reverbed boogie of “Tyrants,” Maragda‘s efforts could be read as having an ambassadorial side, and I don’t think that’s a detriment. But, say you’re the type of listener who might just want to put a record on and enjoy it without delving into the social and aesthetic backdrop against which it arrives (madness, I say, but not unheard of), the energetic spirit captured in the recording, the chemistry shared between Pasqual, Tora and Itarte on the live-feeling performances branched in three dimensions to make the final versions of the songs, and the varying shapes that vitality takes are an accomplishment of craft ready to stand on their own. In the physical motion of the leadoff, the heft unveiled in “Skirmish” and the intricacies of tone and groove beneath the chorus in “Endless,” Maragda launch side A with an enticing salvo that holds the momentum amassed through shifts between longer and shorter runtimes and trades in volume, pace and tone, and a resounding sense of joy in both the build of tension and the freedom inherent in its release. And as much as Tyrants can be defined by its ambitious scope, that applies as much to the interplay of drift and push in “Sunset Room” as it does to the bridges it constructs between often-disparate interpretations of style, and the heart put into its execution cannot and should not be ignored.
Rather, the passion that comes through is pivotal to every level on which Tyrants meets what feel like its goals — and to that, it’s not as though Maragda have said they’re trying to give the countries east of their home peninsula a piece of what they’ve been missing; that’s what I hear happening in the songs separate from the lyrical storyline and at an ocean’s distance and I’m not putting words in anyone’s mouth — and while not without its indulgent side as “Loose” reaches toward seven minutes in capping with revitalized mellow-heavy fluidity, Tyrants is nonetheless clearheaded and lets its movement or procession handle its own declarations.
In this, it remains about presence over pretense. Adding to rather than taking from. It is optimistic and forward-looking. What Maragda do on Tyrants expands the palette for themselves first and genre second, and whatever the future will bring for them, whatever they might do next, wherever they might tour, whatever whatever whatever comes of the potential this sophomore LP carries, it is a significant achievement by itself that distinguishes the band from the pigeonholes in which they might otherwise be placed. If they’re entering the chat, they’ve brought plenty to say.
Maragda, “Tyrants” Live at Siete Barbas Studios video
Barcelona trio Maragda will release their sophomore full-length, Tyrants, on May 8 through Spinda Records. At the bottom of this post, you’ll find two versions of the title-track premiering — the album version of the song and a live-in-studio take as if to demonstrate, “yes, we really can pull this off.” And so they can. And hopefully will for much of the rest of this year on tour in Europe.
Officially, that’s the point of this post. Between you and me, sitting comfortably having a friendly chat together about the things in life that make it tolerable, I’ll tell youthat I’ve had the chance to dig into the record and that the hooky proggy cosmic modern space boogie bop of “Tyrants” is no fluke. Maragda pinpoint genre intersections and explore sounds throughout Tyrants that go beyond manifesting the potential of their 2021 self-titled debut (review here). Clear-eyed in their composition, rich in melody and atmosphere, they could hardly be doing more to signal their arrival to the heavy underground in Europe and beyond.
Preorders open tonight at midnight CET, and while I acknowledge that not every track is going to land with every listener, I urge you to take a few minutes for “Tyrants,” which opens the album, to get a glimpse at the sprawl Maragda are conjuring and the manner in which they careen through it. European tribalism has for the better part of 40 years ignored the development of Iberian heavy and progressive rock. Tyrants shows this for how ridiculous it truly is in its flourishing realization and the outreach in the production at Big Snuff Studio by the esteemed Richard Behrens (he was in Heat and Samsara Blues Experiment, has helmed records for Samavayo, Delving and Weite, Abanamat, countless others), actively working to engage the modern heavy psych sphere with all its king-this-and-thats and bouncy galaxial thrust, while also tapping into Spain’s long history of prog melody. Shit, it’s even in English (as was the first record). They could hardly do more if they offered to put your name in a song.
It is an exciting listen. It is not the most hyped album you’re going to hear in 2024, but if you do catch it — and now’s a good time to be introduced — it might just be something you come to treasure.
To wit, it’s one I feel strongly enough about that, in addition to premiering the studio and live versions of “Tyrants” at the bottom of this post, I’m slated to stream the album in full Tuesday, May 7. Keep an eye out.
Art, PR wire info and, crucially, the music, follow. Please enjoy:
MARAGDA DROPS ‘TYRANTS’ AS FIRST SINGLE OF THEIR UPCOMING SECOND STUDIO ALBUM
Maragda, the energetic power-trio from Barcelona, announces the release of their second studio album, “Tyrants”, available on May 8 via Spinda Records. The band is offering a sneak peek of the album with the release of its title track, showcasing both the studio and live versions taken from their recent live session recorded at Siete Barbas Studios.
This highly anticipated album follows their successful self-titled debut album (2021, Spinda Records) and the live EP “The Reckless / Evil Seed” (2022, Spinda Records). In this new musical journey, the band immerses listeners in introspective themes ranging from self-imposed limitations to the fight for values, love, hope, and farewells. All of this unfolds in a hypothetical fantasy universe, where psychedelia and progressive rock continuously merge, adding nuances of other styles like garage.
For the creation of the album “Tyrants”, Maragda embarked on a creative journey that took them to the Big Snuff Studios in Berlin, where they collaborated with studio engineer Richard Behrens, renowned for his work with bands like Kadavar and Elder. Subsequently, the mastering was handled by acclaimed engineer Peter Deimel (known for his work with bands like Motorpsycho) at the Black Box Studios in France, solidifying a successful collaboration that began with their debut album.
In the visual department, the band has once again partnered with Error! Design studio (known for works with Explosions In The Sky, Russian Circles, Mastodon) for the album’s graphic design, ensuring a cohesive and captivating aesthetic experience for their followers.
TRACK-LIST 1. Tyrants 2. Skirmish 3. Endless 4. My only link 5. Sunset room 6. The singing mountain 7. Godspeed 8. Loose
PRE-ORDER: 22 march 2024
RELEASE DATE 8 may 2024
‘Tyrants’ will be available on May 8 through Spinda Records, although album pre-orders will kick off at midnight on Friday, March 22nd, in both CD and vinyl formats. The vinyl edition will be part of the ‘Trippy Series’ from the Andalusian label, alongside acts such as Viaje a 800, Moura, Empty Full Space, or Moundrag. It will be limited to 400 copies on white vinyl with orange splatters and 100 copies on standard black vinyl.
LIVE SHOWS May 17 | Madrid (ES) @ Madrid Psych Sessions June 8 | Barcelona (ES) @ Sala Upload (fiesta de presentación)
Barcelona classic-progressive heavy rockers Saturna released their fifth full-length, The Reset, last month through Spinda Records and Discos Macarras. A big gallop, an immediate sense of melodic mastery, and the listener is swept into “Your Whimsical Selfishness,” an oddly phrased but welcome hook that is the initial salvo from Saturna‘s latest offering, which in its digital edition runs 14 tracks and 66 minutes with the addition of four bonus live covers to the standard 10 originals. If you’ve heard the record already, great. As well written and produced heavy rock albums will, it snagged scene attention last month; a word of mouth hype spreading through shared links in a manner that it feels strange to think of as organic, because digital reality, but is that anyway.
Brightly fuzzed and putting Toni del Amo‘s guest keys to use with the organ sounds on that opener, Saturna‘s sound brings together decades of rock and heavy influences to feed into its construction. Of course, you get a ’70s-via-’90s feel at the root that one could argue is the foundation for the modern genre, but more pointedly, “Your Whimsical Selfishness” incorporates a stretch of folkish acoustic guitar to ease the transition into “The Never Ending Star,” which also tops five minutes (three songs do, including the first two, which feels purposeful), and has some light touch of Thin Lizzy in the guitars of James Vieco (also vocals) and Alexandre Sánchez, but its verse moves into a light-strum Zeppelin build back to its gentle push of a chorus. The four-piece — Vieco, Sánchez, bassist Rod Tirado and drummer Enric Verdaguer — trade between later Sabbathian largesse and subdued liquefaction on “Smile” and build off the earlier folkishness in the harmonized acoustic cut “December’s Dust” before “Into the Sun” surges forth with admirably Spidergawdy verve. So yes, more Thin Lizzy influence.
This is the part where I tell you Saturna bring their persona to that, and frankly, five albums deep into their tenure, as well they should. But part of what they do is to be in conversation with classics — and I think including not only four bonus covers, but covers of well known songs in Black Sabbath‘s “A National Acrobat,” The Beatles‘ “Come Together” (which nothing against the band’s version but I don’t think anyone should cover, ever; Soundgarden didn’t need to do it either; it’s not a song that should be touched; take on “Oh! Darling” instead if you’re feeling brave or “Yer Blues” if you wanna go dark), The Doors‘ “Five to One” and Jimi Hendrix‘s “Who Knows,” is intentional in its communion aspect — in their original songwriting as well, and that comes through in the proggy surge of “A Few Words to Say,” which feels like a continuation of the dialogue from “Your Whimsical Selfishness” on some level, maybe thematic, and captures an exciting push coming off the speedier “Into the Sun” that serves as a shift to the slower, more willfully expansive “The Sign,” rife with clearheaded ethereality and sunshiny heft.
“Made of Stone,” the longest song at 7:50, is a full-on classic heavy blues jam. It brings a return of the keys in a prominent role and dual vocals from Vieco and Sánchez as if to emphasize command even at what’s arguably The Reset‘s loosest moment. It builds to a classy apex but never wants to go over the top, so doesn’t, leaving the boogie “On Fire” — Priest via Motörhead is a winning combination — to give a landmark hook before the semi-titular closer “A Way to Reset” finishes along similarly straightforward lines structurally, but pulls back on tempo in favor of a nodding groove and intricate call and response bounce of guitar in its verse, almost Graveyard-esque, but the melody and the takeoff solo are Saturna‘s to be sure. They don’t blow it out at the finish, but the last chorus wants nothing for vibrance as a setup for the quiet finish and, on the download, immediate transition to the start of “A National Acrobat.”
Saturna did a covers night at some point, and apparently recorded it. Fair. Not every band would be malleable enough to shift from the sleek prot0-heavy blues wordplay of “Come Together” to the guttural stomp of “Five to One,” but Saturna make it work, with the vocals no less malleable. “Who Knows” comes across particularly funky, and that’s as reasonable an ending as one could ask for The Reset, which might be related as a title to some sense of starting over for the band — they were on one of Ripple‘s Turned to Stone splits in 2022 with Electric Monolith (review here), and one would not describe their sound at that point as broken or needing resetting, but you never know — or could just as easily be a broader call or something as simple as trying to fix the Super Nintendo they found in the garage. I don’t know, but taken on its own level and merits, The Reset stands up to the mighty forebears of its influences with a strength of craft and performance that are undeniable and a vitally engaging construction. There’s no real room for argument.
The band’s video for “A Few Words to Say,” which includes the shift to new guitarist Max Eriksson, premieres below. Please enjoy:
Saturna, “A Few Words to Say” video premiere
More than 4 years had passed since the Barcelona-based band Saturna released ‘Atlantis’, which was their latest full-length album until now. Much had happened since then, and their members had evolved musically, a fact evident from the first listening of “Your whimsical selfishness” and “The never ending star”, the two advance singles from ‘The reset’, their recently released new studio album.
This new offering from Saturna arrives through Spinda Records and Discos Macarras – who also co-released their previous album – and immediately positions itself as their best album to date , and also the most varied in terms of compositions. It explores a musical landscape that is a blend of hard rock, psychedelia, post-grunge, and heavy rock, as the band pointed out in recent interviews with Bienvenidos a los 90 and Siete Barbas Estudio, where they performed a live session, including “Smile” and “The never ending star”, both tracks from their new album.
Recorded at Analog Drive-in Studios, mixed by their regular collaborator Dani Pernas and mastered at Doctor Master, ‘The reset’ is now officially available in both physical formats (compact disc and vinyl) and digital. The Bandcamp edition includees 4 bonus live tracks featuring covers of Black Sabbath, The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix y The Doors.
First tour dates announced: Jan 20 in Barcelona (ES) @ Sala Wolf Feb 17 in Vitoria-Gasteiz (ES) @ Errekaleor Ouzo Askea Mar 10 in Torredembarra (ES) @ La Travi Jul 5 in Tenerife (ES) @ Teatro Leal La Laguna
THE RESET 1. Your whimsical selfishness 2. The never ending star 3. Smile 4. December’s dust 5. Into the sun 6. A few words to say 7. The sign 8. Made of stone 9. On fire 10. A way to reset
All songs have been written and produced by Saturna. Lyrics by James Vieco and Saturna.
Recorded by Christian A.Korn at Analog Drive-in. Mixed by Dani Pernas. Mastered by Estanislao Elorza at Doctor Master. Artwork and cover by Jondix. Design and layout by Marta Ramon.
Additional musician: Toni del Amo – Keyboards
SATURNA is: Rod Tirado – Bass James Vieco – Vocals, guitars Alexandre Sánchez – Guitars, backing vocals Enric Verdaguer – Drums
Posted in Questionnaire on June 14th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
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: Oscar Chamorro (vocals/guitar), Pepo Villena (drums), Ramón Viña (bass) from Electric Monolith
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
Oscar Chamorro: I like to think I create worlds. The hard way I guess. Lots of trial, and error.
Ramón Viña: I work as a musicologist, DJ, and I also have a role in this band. Simply because of my love/obsession with music since I was very young, and this is what led me to where I am.
Pepo Villena: A self taught drummer doing his best and I would say thanks to my mom’s patience during my young (and rebel) days I’ve been able to become who I’m right now.
Describe your first musical memory.
OC: Ta, Da, Da, Ta, Taaaaaa. The main motif of Steven Spielberg’s “Close encounters of the third kind”. I believe it was the first film I saw in the big screen, and I was pretty young, so I have a strong attachment to this movie.
RV: The Beatles. My parents used to listen to them all the time, so they are the O.S.T. of my life.
PV: Singing basque christmas carols dressed in typical basque clothes in my neighbourhood, going door to door to earn some money with my friends as a really young kid.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
OC: That’s a hard one, as there are so many… But I can mention a special one. The first time I heard “Come Together” by The Beatles under the influence of LSD. I’ve heard that band plenty of times since I was a kid, but I never listened to them like that once.
RV: Nirvana’s show in 1994 at Barcelona, and all that came during that era, music-wise.
PV: As a performer I would say any of the gigs we’ve played at the disappeared and missed Rocksound, the greatest venue Barcelona ever had. And as an audience there are lots of great memories to choose just one, maybe my first big festival as a kid. Warped Tour on 98 with Bad Religion and The Specials amongst other great bands from that time like C.I.V., Lagwagon or Ignite. Yes, I was a teenage punk rocker!
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
OC: Last time I broke off with someone.
RV: When I grow up, I realize everything I’ve been told was a lie.
PV: I was member of the workers council of my company and I’m a member of an anarchist workers union and recently had to quit the job because of the pressures and false allegations from other union members playing in favor of the company and getting rid of all the uncomfortable people on the workers council to do whatever they want with the coworkers.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
OC: To me it leads to a never ending road where I find myself chasing unreachable carrots all over, and over…
RV: It leads to experimentation, and trying new things. Always.
PV: To always keep discovering new ways of expression and boundaries to reach.
How do you define success?
OC: Being able to achieve whatever you want to?
RV: When you do the things you really want to do.
PV: Doing what you love the most for the living and not having to work for anyone but yourself.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
OC: You don’t want to know. Trust me ;)
RV: So many things. I rather not talk about them. hahaha
PV: People with lots of ego turning into others for stupid things or being rude because of their supposed “social status” or whatever. Hateful.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
OC: A full OST.
RV: A business related to musicology or show promoter.
PV: A nice and profitable venue in Barcelona for gigs and rehearsal rooms for all musician friends in our scene.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
OC: To move people by touching their hearts, and minds. I think it is all about feelings at the end.
RV: Make you feel things, and inspire you.
PV: To transmit feelings, experiences or ideas to the audience/viewers/readers/etc. and connect in a way that anything else can.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
OC: A full feature film or a TV series. Cinema is another love of mine. I’ve been poking there for years, too many perhaps, but it all ended in disaster ;) I have nice memories though. Some part inside me stills looking forward to it. Who knows?
RV: I always loved cinema, although I doubt I end up doing any of that. Mi world. and my job, both are related to music.
PV: Have my own farm or at least a little piece of land to grow things there.
airy in the outreach of echo and weighted in the impact of Jon Ander Soto Corral‘s drumming and the low midsection fuzz of Mauro Pinto Risco‘s bass. If it were easy to pin down, it wouldn’t have the fluidity it does, but in an age where space metal and boogie shuffle don’t have to be mutually exclusive, they aren’t. “Contra la Tirania del Domèstic” (video premiering below) pulls together Earthless-style vitality and a drift that feels more of the Pelican/Russian Circles school and is informed by some regional influence, while the preceding 10-minute wailer “Cim i Tomba” comes on swinging and big in tone, a kind of urgent lurch setting the backdrop for a wah barrage. Yeah and that’s like in 40 seconds, so it’s quite the journey to be undertaken when you really go along with it.
entirety — but they’re not without their sense of challenge and they’re not dumbing down their exploration to capitulate to some imaginary-in-the-first-place notion of accessibility. Rather, the complexity of Les Efímeres‘ course front-to-back is one of the aspects most encouraging in terms of repeat listens as well — they’re not the first or by any means alone in the sphere of modern heavy prog-psych to deliver more to the active rather than casual listener — and though one might still come out the other end of the LP with questions like, “is that keyboard or guitar under the lead line late in ‘Contra la Tirania del Domèstic’ and what does it say about me that I’m asking?,” it is a healthy and refreshing plunge to take, cerebral but not at the expense of the passion that made them start playing in the first place. And tonally alive.
