Didn’t we just do this? Yeah, kind of. It’s been a weird season, but I knew last month when I launched the Spring 2023 Quarterly Review that it needed to be more than two full weeks and given the timing of everything else slated around then and now, this is what worked to make it happen. For what it’s worth, I have QRs scheduled for July and early October, subject to change, of course.

The bottom line either way is it’s another batch of 50 reviews this week and then that’s a wrap for Spring. It’s a constant barrage of music these days anyhow, and I’m forever behind on everything, but I hope at least you can find something here you dig, whether previously familiar or not. We go.

Quarterly Review #1-10:

HIGH LEAF, Vision Quest

An awaited debut from this Philadelphia heavy rock scene outfit, HIGH LEAF‘s Vision Quest makes its home among heavy tropes (also some minute cultural appropriation in the title) with unabashed glee and deceptively sharp songwriting. Certainly opener “Green Rider” is perfectly willing to beat you over the head with its chorus — and rightly so, you have it coming — but the spacious title-track that follows stretches over eight minutes and seamlessly works through drift and heavy psych impulses to get to the post-grunge roll that makes its increasingly aggro presence known past six minutes in, and that’s by no means the final bit of sludge to be had as the later “Hard to Find” leans toward nastiness only to be offset by the funky outset of “Painted Desert,” having pushed deeper from the Kyussery of “Dead Eye” and a swagger in “Subversive” worthy of comparison to Earthride. This lineup of the band has already split (there’s a new one, no worries), and how that reboot will affect HIGH LEAF going forward obviously remains to be seen, but this is a ‘serving notice’-type debut, doubling down on that in closing duo “March to the Grave” and “The Rot,” and the eight songs and 38 minutes commune with groove and riffs like they’ve been speaking the language the whole time. There’s definitely a vision at work. Let’s see where the quest takes them.

HIGH LEAF on Facebook

HIGH LEAF on Bandcamp

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JAAW, Supercluster

Fucking hell I wish this was what the future sounded like. It rocks. It’s interesting. It’s driven to be its own thing despite traceable roots. It’s got edge but it’s not hackneyed. It’s the tomorrow we were promised when industrial rock and metal became a thing in the 1990s and that corporate alt-everything and pop-punk usurped. I knew I wanted to write about it now, because it’s coming out now, but I’ll tell you honestly, I’ve barely scratched the surface of JAAW‘s Svart-issued debut, Supercluster — recorded at Bear Bites Horse in London by Wayne Adams, who’s also in the band alongside Andy Cairns of Therapy?, Mugstar‘s Jason Stoll and Adam Betts (of Squarepusher and others) — and this is the kind of album that’s going to be years in revealing itself. How about this? Sometime in 2028, if this site is still here, I’ll follow-up and let you know what I’ve found digging into the sinister groove of “Rot” or the shout-kraut rumble and noise of “Bring Home the Motherlode, Barry,” “The Dead Drop” going from minimalism to full heavy New Wave wash in five minutes’ time, and so on, but for right now, let it serve as the cannonball to be lobbed at anyone who says there aren’t any acts out there doing new things or pushing different styles forward, because hell’s bells, that’s the only place this goes even as it also seems to go everywhere at the same time, unto closing out with a Björk cover “Army of Me” as imagined by Ministry doing ’90s drum ‘n’ bass. Some things are just bigger than the year of their release, and I look forward to living with this record.

JAAW on Facebook

Svart Records website

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The Bridesmaid, Come on People Now, Smile on Your Brother

From the opening drone-and-toy-chime-forward over industrial black metal of “Leytonstone: Eat Your Landlord” through the sample-fed machine sludge-turned-psych experimentalism that gives way to a shimmering haze of jazz metal in “Cleveland: And the Rain Came Down” and the can’t-fool-me-by-now acoustic strum at the start of “Summerland: A Long, Maintenance-Free Life” that runs a current of cello under its aural collage and low-end lumber early only to bask in news-and-drone departure with percussion later on the way to what post-hardcore could still someday be, the name of the EP is Come on People Now, Smile on Your Brother and The Bridesmaid deliver the proceedings in a manner more suited to Kurt Cobain‘s fuckall rasp of that line rather than the Youngbloods original. So it’s probably the latter. In any case, the UK solo-plus-friends outfit helmed and steered by JJ Saddington are an aural barrage, and while the temptation is to think of the three-song/21-minute offering as a blender on liquefy, the truth is the material is more thought out, more considerately mixed, and more engaging, than that kind of spastic randomness implies. If you can keep up with the changes, the adventure of listening is well worth the ankles sprained in its twists, but you should go into it knowing that the challenge is part of the appeal.

The Bridesmaid on Facebook

The Bridesmaid on Bandcamp

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Milana, Milvus

If the hard push and tonal burl of comparatively straight-ahead opener “The Last Witch” aren’t convincing, stick around through “Celestial Bird Spirit” and “Impermanence” on the rest of side A before you resolve one way or the other as regards Milana‘s debut album, Milvus. The Mallorca-based four-piece are for sure in conversation with fest-ready modern European heavy rock, and that’s the thread that weaves throughout the album, but in the 11-minute “Impermanance,” they build on the more temperate rollout of “Celestial Bird Spirit” and find an intriguing blend of atmosphere and dense fuzz, more moody than psychedelic, but smart to hold back its weightiest tonality for the rolling end. Appropriately enough, “Lucid Reality” brings them back to ground at the start of side B, but still has an atmospheric effect in its verse, with vocal layering over open-spaced guitar and an alt-rock pickup as they move toward the chorus, and Howling Wolf gives a class-conscious definition of the blues, in the long intro of “Gray City Lights,” setting a difficult standard for the rest of the song to match, but the organ helps. And all seems well and fine for “Whispering Wind” to wrap up mirroring the rocker “The Last Witch” at the start until the song breaks, the harmony starts, and then the growls and massive fuzz start in the last minute and it turns out they were metal all along. Go figure. There’s growing to do, but there’s more happening on Milvus than one listen will tell you, and that in itself is a good sign.

Milana on Instagram

Milana on Spotify

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New Mexican Doom Cult, Necropolis

Swedish upstart four-piece New Mexican Doom Cult offer a distinctly Monolordian weep of lead guitar on “Seven Spirits,” but even that is filtered through the band’s own take, and that’s true of their first full-length, Necropolis more generally, as the Gävle outfit now comprised of guitarist/vocalist/principal songwriter Nils Ahnland, guitarist Johan Klyven Kvastegård, bassist Emil Alstermark and drummer Jonathan Ekvall present seven songs and 48 minutes of dug-in rockers, distortion keyed to its fuzziest degree as Ahnland hints vocally on “Underground” toward a root in darker and more metallic fare ahead of the chugging build that rounds out the eight-minute centerpiece title-track and the make-doom-swing ethic being followed in closer “Worship the Sun.” “Vortex” is a highlight for the melody as much as the double-dose of nodfuzz guitar work, and opener “Architect” sets an atmospheric course but assures that the sense of movement is never really gone, something that’s a benefit even to the righteous Sabbath blowout verse in the penultimate “Archangel.” Much of what they’re doing will be familiar to experienced heads, but not unwelcome for that.

New Mexican Doom Cult on Facebook

Ozium Records on Bandcamp

Olde Magick Records on Bandcamp

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Gentle Beast, Gentle Beast

Capable double-guitar heavy rock pervades the 43-minute Gentle Beast by the Swiss five-piece of the same name. Mixed by Jeff Henson of Duel and issued through Sixteentimes Music, the eight-song run is defined by knowing itself as stoner rock, and that remains true as “Super Sapiens” departs into its post-midsection jam, eventually returning to the chorus, which is almost unfortunately hooky. “Greedy Man” is almost purely Kyuss in its constructed pairing of protest and riff, but the “Caterpillar” shows a different side of the band’s character in its smooth volume shifts, winding leads and understated finish, leading into the sharper-edged outset of closer “Toxic Times.” In the forward thrust of “Joint Venture,” the opener “Asteroid Miner” with its gruff presentation, and the speedier swing of “Headcage” reinforcing the vocal reference to Samsara Blues Experiment in the leadoff, Gentle Beast tick all the boxes they need to tick for this debut long-player some four years after the band’s initial 7″ single, setting up multiple avenues of possible and hopeful progression while proving dexterous songwriters in the now. Won’t change your life, but isn’t trying to convince you it will, either.

Gentle Beast on Facebook

Sixteentimes Music store

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Bloodsports, Bloodsports

Denver four-piece Bloodsports — also stylized all-lowercase: bloodsports — give a heavygaze impression with “Sky Mall” at the launch of their self-titled debut EP that the subsequent “Crimp” gleefully pulls the rug right from under with a solo section like All Them Witches grew up listening to The Cure after its Weezery verse, and the proceedings only gets grungier from there with the low-key Nirvana brooding of “Sustain” (also issued in 2022 as a standalone single) and its larger-scale, scorch-topped distorted finish and the shaker-inclusive indie ritual that is “Carnival” until it explodes into a blowout ending like the release of tension everyone always wanted but never actually got from Violent Femmes. Some noisy skronk guitar finishes over the hungover fuzz, which is emblematic of the way the entire release — only 11 minutes long, mind you — derives its character from the negative space, from its smaller moments of nuance, as well as from its fuller-sounding stretches. They’re young and they sound it, but there’s a sonic ideal being chased through the material and Bloodsports may yet carve their aural persona from that chase. As it is, the emotive aspects on display in “Sustain” and the volatility shown in the roll of “Sky Mall” make in plain that this project has places it wants to go and areas to explore, and one hopes Bloodsports continue to bring their ideas together with such fluidity.

Bloodsports on Instagram

Candlepin Records on Bandcamp

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Night Fishing, Live Bait

Recorded seemingly almost entirely live on audio and video, vibrancy would seem to be the underpinning that draws Night Fishing‘s Live Bait together, if fishing isn’t. The Denver four-piece are a relatively new formation, with guitarists Graham Zander (also Green Druid) and Zach Amster (Abrams), bassist Justin Sanderson (Muscle Beach) and drummer Gordon Koch (Call of the Void) all coming together from their sundry other projects to explore a space between the kosmiche, heavy rock and semi-improv jamming. The turns and fills and crashes that round out the second of three cuts, “No Services,” for example, feel off-the-cuff, but throughout most of “Alone With My Thoughts” and at least in the initial Slift-like shuffle at the start of “Slapback Twister,” there’s a plan at work. At 25 minutes, they’re only about a song shy of making Live Bait a full-length — though another track might mess up the shortest-to-longest and alphabetical ordering Live Bait has now, which are fun — but the instrumentalist exploration is suited to the nascent feel of the outfit, and while I don’t think Night Fishing is anybody’s only band here, if they can build on the sense of purpose they give to the jangly rhythm and airy solo of “Slapback Twister” and the right-on push of “Alone With My Thoughts,” they can make their records as long or as short as they want and they’re still bound to catch ears.

Night Fishing on Instagram

Brutal Panda Records website

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Wizard Tattoo, Fables of the Damned

Following last year’s self-titled debut EP, Indianapolis solo-project Wizard Tattoo cuts itself open and bleeds DIY on the seven songs and 40 minutes of the self-recorded, self-released Fables of the Damned, beginning with distinct moments of departure in opener “Wizard Van” and “The Black Mountain Pass,” the latter of which returns to its gutted-out chorus with maestro Bram the Bard (who also did the cover) cutting through the tonescape of his own creation to underscore the structure at work. There are stories to be told in “The Vengeful Thulsa Dan” and the folkish “Any Which Way but Tuned,” which brings together acoustics and chanting like a gamer version of Wovenhand, deep-mixed tom thud peppered throughout while the chimes are more forward, while the seven-minute “The Ghost of Doctor Beast” picks up with the slowest and most doomed of the included rollouts, “God Damn This Wizard Tattoo” ups the tempo with a catchy chorus, a little bit of mania in the hi-hat under the guitar solo, and hints dropped in the bassline of the grunge aspects soon to be highlighted in instrumental closer “Abendrote.” The sense of character is bigger than the production, and that balance is something that will need to be ironed out over time, but the dug-in curio aspects of Fables of the Damned make it engaging, whatever it may or may not lead toward.

Wizard Tattoo on Facebook

Wizard Tattoo on Bandcamp

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Nerver & Chat Pile, Brothers in Christ Split

I’ll never claim to be anything more than a dilettante when it comes to noise rock, and I’ll tell you outright that Kansas City’s Nerver are new to me as of this Brothers in Christ split with Oklahoma City’s Chat Pile, but both acts are coming from a strong Midwestern tradition of post-industrial (talking economy not genre) disaffection and building on momentum from strong 2022 releases, those being Nerver‘s even-the-CD-sold-out (aha! but not from the label! got it!) sophomore full-length CASH and Chat Pile‘s much-lauded debut, God’s Country (review here), and the scream-topped bombast of the one and volatile emotive antipoetry of the other make fitting companions across the included four songs, as Nerver‘s “Kicks in the Sky” underscores its jabs with deep low rumble as a bed for the harshly delivered verse and “The Nerve” shoves itself faceward in faster and less angular fashion, consuming like Chicago post-metal but pissed off like Midwestern hardcore while Chat Pile build through “King” en route to the panicked slaughter of “Cut,” which is sure enough to trigger fight-or-flight in your brain before its sub-five-minute run is up. Neither arrives at this point without hype behind them, both would seem to have earned it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go put on that Nerver album and play a bit of catchup.

Chat Pile on Instagram

Nerver on Facebook

Reptilian Records website

The Ghost is Clear Records website

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Guess this is it, huh? Always bittersweet, the end of a Quarterly Review. Bitter, because there’s still a ton of albums waiting on my desktop to be reviewed, and certainly more that have come along over the course of the last two weeks looking for coverage. Sweet because when I finish here I’ll have written about 100 albums, added a bunch of stuff to my year-end lists, and managed to keep the remaining vestiges of my sanity. If you’ve kept up, I hope you’ve enjoyed doing so. And if you haven’t, all 10 of the posts are here.

Thanks for reading.

Quarterly Review #91-100:

Hazemaze, Blinded by the Wicked

This is one of 2022’s best records cast in dark-riffed, heavy garage-style doom rock. I admit I’m late to the party for Hazemaze‘s third album and Heavy Psych Sounds label debut, Blinded by the Wicked, but what a party it is. The Swedish three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Ludvig Andersson, bassist Estefan Carrillo and drummer Nils Eineus position themselves as a lumbering forerunner of modern cultist heavy, presenting the post-“In-a-Gadda-da-Vida” lumber of “In the Night of the Light, for the Dark” and “Ethereal Disillusion” (bassline in the latter) with a clarity of purpose and sureness that builds even on what the trio accomplished with 2019’s Hymns for the Damned (review here), opening with the longest track (immediate points) “Malevolent Inveigler” and setting up a devil-as-metaphor-for-now lyrical bent alongside the roll of “In the Night of the Light, for the Dark” and the chugging-through-mud “Devil’s Spawn.” Separated by the “Planet Caravan”-y instrumental “Sectatores et Principes,” the final three tracks are relatively shorter than the first four, but there’s still space for a bass-backed organ solo in “Ceremonial Aspersion,” and the particularly Electric Wizardian “Divine Harlotry” leads effectively into the closer “Lucifierian Rite,” which caps with surprising bounce in its apex and underscores the level of songwriting throughout. Just a band nailing their sound, that’s all. Seems like maybe the kind of party you’d want to be on time for.

Hazemaze on Facebook

Heavy Psych Sounds store

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Elephant Tree, Track by Track

Released as a name-your-price benefit EP in July to help raise funds for the Ukrainian war effort, Track by Track is two songs London’s Elephant Tree recorded at the Netherlands’ Sonic Whip Festival in May of this year, “Sails” and “The Fall Chorus” — here just “Fall Chorus” — from 2020’s Habits (review here), on which the four-piece is joined by cellist Joe Butler and violinst Charlie Davis, fleshing out especially the quieter “Fall Chorus,” but definitely making their presence felt on “Sails” as well in accompanying what was one of Habits‘ strongest hooks. And the strings are all well and good, but the live harmonies on “Sails” between guitarist Jack Townley, bassist Peter Holland and guitarist/keyboardist John Slattery — arriving atop the e’er-reliable fluidity of Sam Hart‘s drumming — are perhaps even more of a highlight. Was the whole set recorded? If so, where’s that? “Fall Chorus” is more subdued and atmospheric, but likewise gorgeous, the cello and violin lending an almost Americana feel to the now-lush second-half bridge of the acoustic track. Special band, moment worth capturing, cause worth supporting. The classic no-brainer purchase.

Elephant Tree on Facebook

Elephant Tree on Bandcamp

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Mirror Queen, Inviolate

Between Telekinetic Yeti, Mythic Sunship and Limousine Beach (not to mention Comet Control last year), Tee Pee Records has continued to offer distinct and righteous incarnations of heavy rock, and Mirror Queen‘s classic-prog-influenced strutter riffs on Inviolate fit right in. The long-running project led by guitarist/vocalist Kenny Kreisor (also the head of Tee Pee) and drummer Jeremy O’Brien is bolstered through the lead guitar work of Morgan McDaniel (ex-The Golden Grass) and the smooth low end of bassist James Corallo, and five years after 2017’s Verdigris (review here), their flowing heavy progressive rock nudges into the occult on “The Devil Seeks Control” while maintaining its ’70s-rock-meets-’80s-metal gallop, and hard-boogies in the duly shredded “A Rider on the Rain,” where experiments both in vocal effects and Mellotron sounds work well next to proto-thrash urgency. Proggers like “Inside an Icy Light,” “Sea of Tranquility” and the penultimate “Coming Round with Second Sight” show the band in top form, comfortable in tempo but still exploring, and they finish with the title-track’s highlight chorus and a well-layered, deceptively immersive wash of melody. Can’t and wouldn’t ask for more than they give here; Inviolate is a tour de force for Mirror Queen, demonstrating plainly what NYC club shows have known since the days when Aytobach Kreisor roamed the earth two decades ago.

Mirror Queen on Facebook

Tee Pee Records store

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Faetooth, Remnants of the Vessel

Los Angeles-based four-piece Faetooth — guitarist/vocalist Ashla Chavez Razzano, bassist/vocalist Jenna Garcia, guitarist/vocalist Ari May, drummer Rah Kanan — make their full-length debut through Dune Altar with the atmospheric sludge doom of Remnants of the Vessel, meeting post-apocalyptic vibes as intro “(i) Naissance” leads into initial single “Echolalia,” the more spaced-out “La Sorcie|Cre” (or something like that; I think my filename got messed up) and the yet-harsher doom of “She Cast a Shadow” before the feedback-soaked interlude “(ii) Limbo” unfurls its tortured course. Blending clean croons and more biting screams assures a lack of predictability as they roll through “Remains,” the black metal-style cave echo there adding to the extremity in a way that the subsequent “Discarnate” pushes even further ahead of the nodding, you’re-still-doomed heavy-gaze of “Strange Ways.” They save the epic for last, however, with “(iii) Moribund” a minute-long organ piece leading directly into “Saturn Devouring His Son,” a nine-and-a-half-minute willful lurch toward an apex that has the majesty of death-doom and a crux of melody that doesn’t just shout out Faetooth‘s forward potential but also points to what they’ve already accomplished on Remnants of the Vessel. If this band tours, look out.

Faetooth on Facebook

Dune Altar on Bandcamp

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Behold! The Monolith, From the Fathomless Deep

Ferocious and weighted in kind, Behold! The Monolith‘s fourth full-length and first for Ripple Music, From the Fathomless Deep finds the Los Angeles trio taking cues from progressive death metal and riff-based sludge in with a modern severity of purpose that is unmistakably heavy. Bookended by opener “Crown/The Immeasurable Void” (9:31) and closer “Stormbreaker Suite” (11:35), the six-track/45-minute offering — the band’s first since 2015’s Architects of the Void (review here) — brims with extremity and is no less intense in the crawling “Psychlopean Dread” than on the subsequent ripper “Spirit Taker” or its deathsludge-rocking companion “This Wailing Blade,” calling to mind some of what Yatra have been pushing on the opposite coast until the solo hits. The trades between onslaughts and acoustic parts are there but neither overdone nor overly telegraphed, and “The Seams of Pangea” (8:56) pairs evocative ambience with crushing volume and comes out sounding neither hackneyed nor overly poised. Extreme times call for extreme riffs? Maybe, but the bludgeoning on offer in From the Fathomless Deep speaks to a push into darkness that’s been going on over a longer term. Consuming.

Behold! The Monolith on Facebook

Ripple Music website

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The Swell Fellas, Novaturia

The second album from Nashville’s The Swell Fellas — who I’m sure are great guys — the five-song/32-minute Novaturia encapsulates an otherworldly atmosphere laced with patient effects soundscapes, echo and moody presence, but is undeniably heavy, the opener “Something’s There…” drawing the listener deeper into “High Lightsolate,” the eight-plus minutes of which roll out with technical intricacy bent toward an outward impression of depth, a solo in the midsection carrying enough scorch for the LP as a whole but still just part of the song’s greater procession, which ends with percussive nuance and vocal melody before giving way to the acoustic interlude “Caesura,” a direct lead-in for the noisy arrival of the okay-now-we-riff “Wet Cement.” The single-ready penultimate cut is a purposeful banger, going big at its finish only after topping its immediate rhythmic momentum with ethereal vocals for a progressive effect, and as elliptically-bookending finisher “…Another Realm” nears 11 minutes, its course is its own in manifesting prior shadows of progressive and atmospheric heavy rock into concrete, crafted realizations. There’s even some more shred for good measure, brought to bear with due spaciousness through Mikey Allred‘s production. It’s a quick offering, but offers substance and reach beyond its actual runtime. They’re onto something, and I think they know it, too.

The Swell Fellas on Facebook

The Swell Fellas on Bandcamp

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Stockhausen & the Amplified Riot, Era of the Inauthentic

For years, it has seemed Houston-based guitarist/songwriter Paul Chavez (Funeral Horse, Cactus Flowers, Baby Birds, Art Institute) has searched for a project able to contain his weirdo impulses. Stockhausen & the Amplified Riot — begun with Era of the Inauthentic as a solo-project plus — is the latest incarnation of this effort, and its krautrock-meets-hooky-proto-punk vibe indeed wants nothing for weird. “Adolescent Lightning” and “Hunky Punk” are a catchy opening salvo, and “What if it Never Ends” provokes a smile by garage-rock riffing over a ’90s dance beat to a howling finish, while the 11-minute “Tilde Mae” turns early-aughts indie jangle into a maddeningly repetitive mindfuck for its first nine minutes, mercifully shifting into a less stomach-clenching groove for the remainder before closer “Intubation Blues” melds more dance beats with harmonica and last sweep. Will the band, such as it is, at last be a home for Chavez over the longer term, or is it merely another stop on the way? I don’t know. But there’s no one else doing what he does here, and since the goal seems to be individualism and experimentalism, both those ideals are upheld to an oddly charming degree. Approach without expectations.

Artificial Head Records on Facebook

Artificial Head Records on Bandcamp

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Nothing is Real, The End is Near

Nothing is Real stand ready to turn mundane miseries into darkly ethereal noise, drawing from sludge and an indefinable litany of extreme metals. The End is Near is both the Los Angeles unit’s most cohesive work to-date and its most accomplished, building on the ambient mire of earlier offerings with a down-into-the-ground churn on lead single “THE (Pt. 2).” All of the songs, incidentally, comprise the title of the album, with four of “THE” followed by two “END” pieces, two “IS”es and three “NEAR”s to close. An maybe-unhealthy dose of sample-laced interlude-type works — each section has an intro, and so on — assure that Nothing is Real‘s penchant for atmospheric crush isn’t misplaced, and the band’s uptick in production value means that the vastness and blackened psychedelia of 10-minute centerpiece “END” shows the abyssal depths being plunged in their starkest light. Capping with “NEAR (Pt. 1),” jazzy metal into freneticism, back to jazzy metal, and “NEAR (Pt. 2),” epic shred emerging from hypnotic ambience, like Jeff Hanneman ripping open YOB, The End is Near resonates with a sickened intensity that, again, it shares in common with the band’s past work, but is operating at a new level of complexity across its intentionally unmanageable 63 minutes. Nothing is Real is on their own wavelength and it is a place of horror.

Nothing is Real on Facebook

Nothing is Real on Bandcamp

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Red Lama, Memory Terrain

Copenhagen heavy psych collective Red Lama — and I’m sorry, but if you’ve got more than five people in your band, you’re a collective — brim with pastoral escapism throughout Memory Terrain, their third album and the follow-up to 2018’s Motions (discussed here) and its companion EP, Dogma (review here). Progressive in texture but with an open sensibility at their core, pieces like the title-track unfold long-song breadth in accessible spans, the earlier “Airborne” moving from the jazzy beginning of “Gentleman” into a more tripped-out All Them Witches vein. Elsewhere, “Someone” explores krautrock intricacies before synthing toward its last lines, and “Paint a Picture” exudes pop urgency before washing it away on a repeating, sweeping tide. Range and dynamic aren’t new for Red Lama, but I’m hard-pressed to think of as dramatic a one-two turn as the psych-wash-into-electro-informed-dance-brood that takes place between “Shaking My Bones” and “Chaos is the Plan” — lest one neglect the urbane shuffle of “Justified” prior — though by that point Red Lama have made it apparent they’re ready to lead the listener wherever whims may dictate. That’s a significant amount of ground to cover, but they do it.

Red Lama on Facebook

Red Lama on Bandcamp

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Echolot, Curatio

Existing in multiple avenues of progressive heavy rock and extreme metal, Echolot‘s Curatio only has four tracks, but each of those tracks has more range than the career arcs of most bands. Beginning with two 10-minute tracks in “Burden of Sorrows” (video premiered here) and “Countess of Ice,” they set a pattern of moving between melancholic heavy prog and black metal, the latter piece clearer in telegraphing its intentions after the opener, and introducing its “heavy part” to come with clean vocals overtop in the middle of the song, dramatic and fiery as it is. “Resilience of Floating Forms” (a mere 8:55) begins quiet and works into a post-black metal wash of melody before the double-kick and screams take hold, announcing a coming attack that — wait for it — doesn’t actually come, the band instead moving into falsetto and a more weighted but still clean verse before peeling back the curtain on the death growls and throatrippers, cymbals threatening to engulf all but still letting everything else cut through. Also eight minutes, “Wildfire” closes by flipping the structure of the opening salvo, putting the nastiness at the fore while progging out later, in this case closing Curatio with a winding movement of keys and an overarching groove that is only punishing for the fact that it’s the end. If you ever read a Quarterly Review around here, you know I like to do myself favors on the last day in choosing what to cover. It is no coincidence that Curatio is included. Not every record could be #100 and still make you excited to hear it.

Echolot on Facebook

Sixteentimes Music store

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Basel, Switzerland’s Echolot are set to release their fourth long-player, Curatio, through Sixteentimes Music on Nov. 4. The trio were last heard from with 2020’s Destrudo (discussed here), and their new 10-minute single — who doesn’t love a 10-minute single? — is “Burdens of Sorrows,” which brings together contemplative post-rock à la Radiohead and the progressive metal of Tool with a post-metallic presentational linear flow and stretches of absolutely charred-black doom. If that sounds like a lot of ground to cover, yes, it is.

To Echolot‘s credit, the trio of guitarist Lukas Fürer, bassist Renato Mateucci and drummer Jonathan Schmidli are not simply smashing different ideas together and hoping something sticks. Their creative identity is rampant throughout the different stages of the song, from the quiet opening through the gnashing, rumbling conclusion, but true to type, it’s the fluidity of their delivery that makes it all work. The bassline runs under the early verses like a river current carrying the song forward, the melody is sweet and longing, and the crash of drums atmospheric but tense, telegraphing the build but holding back from letting the listener know right away where it’s all headed without making a show of teasing either. That is, if you’re new to Echolot, you’re in for a ride, both before and after the first screams show up around four minutes into the video.

Wait — a video? Premiering below? Yup. The moral of the story, visually, seems to be that sometimes you find the key that unlocks a gritty reboot of The Creature From the Black Lagoon — so, awesome — but the cinematic approach and the narrative both suit the song’s consuming journey and strikingly heavy arrival at its destination. The furies are many and the execution neither shies from nor is hindered by them, the band keeping a sense of poise even at their most tempestuous. I haven’t heard all of Curatio as yet, but “Burdens of Sorrows” is immersive and sweeping enough to stand on its own as it does.

I hope you enjoy:

Echolot, “Burdens of Sorrows” video premiere

Burdens of Sorrows by Echolot, taken from the upcoming album CURATIO

Burdens Of Sorrows written and performed by Echolot
Recorded by JEROEN VAN VULPEN
Performed by ECHOLOT

Director & Cinematography Manuel Guldimann
Editor Miro Widmer

Echolot was founded 2014 in Basel and has been swimming in an unchanged constellation. The three-master (bass, guitar and drums) uses the sounds of doom, psychedelic and progressive vibes.

Three islands of different types have already been created: „I“ (2016), „Volva“ (2017) and „Destrudo“ (2020). The rock for the next island is agglomerated.

This is how the new album „CURATIO“ (2022) springs from the depths of the seven seas. The well-known swell of sonar is carried on in it, and swells to the surface with the dark and uncharted depths of the sea. A glutton with the longing to be carried further and further down the endless veins of the world.

ECHOLOT:
Lukas Fürer – Guitar
Renato Mateucci – Bass
Jonathan Schmidli – Drums

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Swiss post-metallers Echolot are getting ready to release their third album, Destrudo, on Oct. 2 through Sixteentimes Music, and they give a substantial glimpse at its sprawling atmospheric base in the new single “Frozen Dead Star.” At nearly 10 minutes long, the track unfolds with a slow, doomly rollout and harsh, biting screams à la Thou before adding melodic singing to the mix and at about three minutes in turning to a guitar part that feels built off of what Neurosis were doing in the midsection of “Reach,” which closed their most recent LP, Fires Within Fires. Echolot manipulate this figure and join it soon enough to post-Amenra barely-there vocal fragility, passing the song’s halfway point with echoing melody and an underlying tension of drums that eases the transition back to heft when the time comes for it to inevitably be made.

Effective and airy lead guitar takes hold in squibbly fashion over the resurgent roll, marked by a fluid-sounding wash of crash cymbal — the bassline beneath it all is a treasure all too buried on my speakers; I suspect a different system would feature it more prominently — and the guitar line that has made itself central returns in heavier fashion before “Frozen Dead Star,” approaching its final minute, unleashes a deathly growl and more intense and insistent progression. Echoing, black metal-style screaming caps the proceedings with final lumbering, and the song fades out feeling something like an album on its own with the linear but cohesive course it follows. I don’t know what the rest of Destrudo might have on offer, but with “Frozen Dead Star” the Basel three-piece successfully execute the precise control and cerebral crush for which Euro post-metal is known. It is the work of a band who know what the fuck they’re doing.

The accompanying video has some band shots interspersed as part of its duly ambient presentation, and you can find it premiering below.

Please enjoy:

Echolot, “Frozen Dead Star” official video premiere

ECHOLOT new Album ‘DESTRUDO’ is out on October 2!

New single FROZEN DEAD STAR by ECHOLOT

Echolot – Frozen Dead Star (Official Video)
Recording by Jeroen Van Vulpen
Mix by Simon Jameson
Music by Echolot
Camera: Roberto Machulio
Designe: Renata Matellini
Effects: Raul Mate
Cut: Rafaela Matteo
Coloring: Renault Mattisimo

Echolot are:
Lukas Fürer – Guitar
Renato Matteucci – Bass
Jonathan Schmidli – Drums

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The statistics of COVID-19 change with every news cycle, and with growing numbers, stay-at-home isolation and a near-universal disruption to society on a global scale, it is ever more important to consider the human aspect of this coronavirus. Amid the sad surrealism of living through social distancing, quarantines and bans on gatherings of groups of any size, creative professionals — artists, musicians, promoters, club owners, techs, producers, and more — are seeing an effect like nothing witnessed in the last century, and as humanity as a whole deals with this calamity, some perspective on who, what, where, when and how we’re all getting through is a needed reminder of why we’re doing so in the first place.

Thus, Days of Rona, in some attempt to help document the state of things as they are now, both so help can be asked for and given where needed, and so that when this is over it can be remembered.

Thanks to all who participate. To read all the Days of Rona coverage, click here. — JJ Koczan

Days of Rona: Chris Sigdell of Leaden Fumes (Basel, Switzerland)

—

How are you dealing with this crisis as a band? Have you had to rework plans at all? How is everyone’s health so far?

Since we played shows just before the pandemic arrived at our doorstep, we were a bit worried, especially since we had played in front of 150 people in Berlin and had been pretty careless regarding a possible infection. But we are all well, and while this pandemic is causing some serious thinking, the only bummer is that we have had to postpone booking shows to promote our new album. Theoretically we’d have shows at the end of May — but I don’t see them happening, as the borders will not open this soon – even if normal activities were resumed.

What are the quarantine/isolation rules where you are?

In Switzerland we are still allowed to move without too many restrictions. Groups of more than five are not allowed and the general advice is to stay in, which most people here follow as a rule. It is quite eerie to look out the windows and see a more or less empty street –- especially at night. As I live in the middle of a hipster area, usually there’s a whole lot more going on. But so far we are lucky in as much as there is no general order to stay inside, so we can still go for a walk.

How have you seen the virus affecting the community around you and in music?

There is a general sense of cautiousness around people, avoiding getting too close to each other when passing on the street or in the supermarket. We now have a queue at the supermarkets and have to take a number, disinfect our hands before we may venture inside, the number of consumers being restricted. It feels a bit spooky. Not unlike a dystopian science fiction movie scene. Luckily Switzerland has a very good (though expensive) healthcare system. The same can be said about the unemployment service. So people are more or less at ease and do not yet face immediate problems.

As for the music — it’s the same as everywhere I guess. Venues and bands are struggling, especially those who depend on making a living out of it.

What is the one thing you want people to know about your situation, either as a band, or personally, or anything?

We as a band might not be able to do what we most desire — to play live. But we are glad to be in good health and that we can manage financially. That is the most important. We now have a lot of time to focus on new ideas and on honing our songwriting skills, while in other countries people are getting desperate and the situation is much worse. In Switzerland it is all still quite easy compared to Italy, or France. I hope we all come through this a changed people and that we will not fall back to the ways of before. I think we as humans need to change. A lot. Individually and as a society. Stay positive, stay healthy, stay free.

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

Swiss doombringers Leaden Fumes release their first full-length, Abandon Ship, next week through Petty Bourgeois Broadcasts, and I’m pretty sure the ship they’re talking about is Earth itself. The band was started in 2016 by former Phased guitarist/vocalist Christian Sigdell (also of the droned-out B°tong and a slew of other projects) who, moving to bass/vocals, brought on board former Phased live guitarist Florian Schönmann to take guitar duties and drummer Jonathan Schmidli of psychedelic expansionists Echolot in the new trio. For anyone who knew Sigdell‘s work in Phased or got tipped to Echolot‘s 2016 debut LP, I, Leaden Fumes is something of a stylistic jump, with tracks like “(Let Burn The) Temple Within” and the opening title cut before it dug into a cavernous and grimly doomed sensibility, shouted vocals echoing out over riffs lumbering or, in the case of the nine-minute second track, chugging into a bass-drone-and-movie-sample oblivion before surging back for a final two minutes of nod.

There’s something ancient and primal about Leaden Fumes‘ approach, speaking to the roots of doom metal as grown out from the NWOBHM, but at no point are they retro in style and their material veers further into extremes as the record plays out through “Ruthless,” which shifts into blackened screams and guitar squibblies with a viciousness and underlying severity that should please fans of Valborg, and into the deceptively catchy pair “Asphyxia” and “Chromophobia,” both of which transmit their tortured mentality through volatile transitions, creeping and shoving in “Asphyxia” — which caps with a sample describing the rush of choking during orgasm as “no less powerful than cocaine and highly addictive” — and more fluid in “Chromophobia” but with Sigdell‘s voice coated in an effect not quite like a megaphone, but not far off, obscuring the lyrics as compared to the barebones-ness of “Abandon Ship” earlier. The plod behind, however, is pure doom with just the slightest stonerly edge, and so the spaciousness created by the echoes comes with a corresponding feeling of largesse. That is, they full the space they create, and a psychedelic solo from Schönmann is a welcome melodic touch in the second half before it drifts off into noise and the crash cymbals that start the penultimate “This Bleeding Cavity.”

At seven songs and 41 minutes, Abandon Ship is hardly a slog, but neither is it intended to be easy listening, and one gets a sense of Leaden Fumes trying out different approaches across its span. To wit, the charred thrust of “Ruthless” or the psych-doom stomp in “This Bleeding Cavity,” which though the shortest take at 4:22, still functions to broaden the scope of the LP overall, touching on its own extremes in later reaches through subtle layering. Likewise, the plot continues to thicken through closer “Craving,” which brings together the howls of “(Let Burn The) Temple Within” with an atmospheric feel that rounds out in a sudden finish at a little over five minutes, which is about where Leaden Fumes seem most comfortable, as “Ruthless,” “Asphyxia” and “Chromophobia” are of similar duration. Abandon Ship is all the more laudable as a debut for the three-piece’s ability to shift their sound during those tracks, however, and whatever the runtimes might be and however the songs might interact in terms of sound or theme, there are ultimately no two that are the same in terms of style all the way through.

Given the context of Sigdell‘s past in founding Phased over 20 years ago and working across a variety of genres, one can only assume the aesthetic choices Leaden Fumes make throughout Abandon Ship are purposeful, but there is still a notion in listening of the band discovering their identity through these songs, finding out as they go how the black metal and the psych and the doom and the noise and the samples and the shouts and everything else might all come together into a singular focus over time. As Abandon Ship was preceded only by a 2017 four-song demo, led off by an earlier take on “Chromophobia,” it’s reasonable to think of their progression as bring in a formative if not a beginning period. They are, then, on a journey, and a somewhat grim one at that. The album’s mood, even in its broadest-ranging moments, is consuming in its darkness, and the feeling of threat and paranoia that comes through in their songs is palpable; a conscious challenge being issued to those who’d take them on.

So go ahead and do that.

Given its underlying nuance and abidingly off-genre-kilter feel, I’m thrilled to host the full stream of Abandon Ship below. You’ll find it accompanied by more info from the PR wire, and the recently-posted video for “This Bleeding Cavity” down at the bottom, just for the hell of it.

Enjoy:

https://soundcloud.com/phased-3/sets/leaden-fumes-album-1/s-Detyw

LEADEN FUMES were torn out of PHASED – the cult stoner/doom band Christian S formed back in ancient 1997, and which he led through a multitude of line-ups up until 2016. Most likely Phased were Switzerland’s first stoner band – surely the were the only Swiss band to sign to Elektrohasch. So with LEADEN FUMES two members of Phased reconvene to wreak fresh havoc. Having switched from guitar to bass, Christian S is giving LEADEN FUMES the ultra low-end spark, while Florian S alone is responsible for the upper regions. The line-up is completed with young and talented drummer Jonathan S from ECHOLOT.

LEADEN FUMES recorded and released a four song demo-CD in 2017, and played their first show at legendary local venue “Hirscheneck”. In 2018 they not only played a local festival and headlined a metal-night in Zürich, but also played their first shows in Germany – among which “Deep Sound City” festival in Halle. 2019 saw the band recording their first album proper – in their own studio, and with Jonathan S at the controls.

The album is entitled “Abandon Ship” and features seven killer songs that range from slow doom to influences of math-rock and black-metal.

Tracklisting:
1. Abandon Ship
2. (Let Burn The) Temple Within
3. Ruthless
4. Asphyxia
5. Chromophobia
6. This Bleeding Cavity
7. Craving

Recorded at High Street Studio, Basel by Jonathan Schmidli and at The Loft by Christian Sigdell
Mixed by Jonathan Schmidli

Artwork by Manuel G.
Photography by Natalie Jonkers
Design by Christian Sigdell

Leaden Fumes are:
Florian Schönmann – guitar
Christian Sigdell – bass, voice, fx
Jonathan Schmidli – drums

Renato Matteuci – moog, backing vocals

Leaden Fumes, “This Bleeding Cavity” official video

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Leaden Fumes website

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https://soundcloud.com/sixteentimes/sets/the-wooden-house-session-sons-of-morpheus/s-8DjKZ

[Click play above to stream Sons of Morpheus’ The Wooden House Session in its entirety. It’s out Feb. 22 on Sixteentimes Music.]

It happened, as one might imagine, in a wooden house. The proverbial cottage in the forest, to which a band withdraws to remove themselves from the distractions of real life, society, obligations of employment and/or family, and all the rest of everything that’s not making music, in order to trap themselves into a creative mindset. In the case of Swiss trio Sons of Morpheus, The Wooden House Session is the second release they’ve been able to cull from undertaking this experience early in 2018 — the first was a split with Berlin’s Samavayo dubbed The Fuzz Charger Split (discussed here) that came out last May — and its six-track/33-minute run speaks to both the intimacy and the urgency of the experience, as the band self-recorded and effectively captured a live feel in so doing. Part of what let them do that might be owed to the fact that Schüxenhaus Ins, where they tracked, is also a venue hosting shows.

So maybe it’s not so much the getting-lost-on-purpose impulse as it was they found a cool spot and dug the surrounding way-out vibe, but either way, as guitarist/vocalist Manuel Bissig, bassist Lukas Kurmann (who also mixed) and drummer Rudy Kink embark on The Wooden House Session, they nonetheless play to the narrative of working to get out of their own heads as a collective and pursue something truly special as a band — to discover who they are. That may be what The Wooden House Session does, and if it is, fair enough. It’s their third album behind 2017’s engaging Nemesis and their 2014 self-titled debut, and so a kind of natural maturing point five years on from their first record, and with a somewhat rawer tone in the guitar and bass, they’re able to bring a grunge sensibility to tracks like “Loner” and “Nowhere to Go” in a way that the slicker production of Nemesis likely wouldn’t. Dirtying up their sound works in their favor.

That’s shown quickly as the introductory “Doomed Cowboy” melds together the Western-style imagery of the album’s artwork with the foreboding atmosphere and the dense tonality toward which its title hints. In the span of a little more than three minutes, its effective wash of crash cymbals becomes surrounded by siren guitars and full-on noise assault as a sludgy march takes hold and deconstructs to abrasive feedback and noise. It’s nasty, but it’s supposed to be, and it doesn’t last long before Kurmann‘s bass starts the bounce of “Loner,” which gets under way with more scorching lead lines from Bissig, swinging drums from Kink, and the album’s first vocal lines. Those familiar with the band will already know the primacy of Queens of the Stone Age as an influence in Bissig‘s vocals and in some of the style of riffing.

It’s less true on The Wooden House Session than it was on Nemesis, and whether that’s owed to the circumstances of the recording or just a general result of having toured more and worked to develop a more individual approach, it suits him and the band as a whole. “Loner” plays back and forth between restrained verses and a let-loose hook, but grows spacious in its back half, with a solo taking hold over broad-sounding echoes, and a concluding bluesy lick that speaks of some of the ground later to be covered on the extended closer “Slave (Never Ending Version).” Before they get there, “Paranoid Reptiloid” digs into my personal all-time favorite conspiracy theory, which is that of the lizard people secretly running the earth and using humans as food and fuel — otherwise known as capitalism — amid another right on hook and a more extended instrumental break that gets suitably freaked out for the subject matter, held to earth somewhat by the punctuation of a cowbell amid the barrage of crash, but still churning in a way that Sons of Morpheus haven’t yet showed on The Wooden House Session. They draw it back to the chorus deftly at the end, underlining that their priority is songcraft, which again, holds true until the finale.

The fuzz on “Nowhere to Go” is particularly satisfying, and arrives in surges of volume that answer multi-layered vocal lines with a fervent sense of strut before the track turns to its more fully-toned midsection and a rousing melodic ending. The Wooden House Session, very subtly, has been toying with structure all along, and it continues to do so with “Nowhere to Go,” but especially with the push in the second half, it’s arguably the most switched-on summary of the album’s appeal. They back it with the shorter, catchy “Sphere,” which serves as a penultimate moment of straightforward push before “Slave (Never Ending Version)” takes hold. It’s arguably the most Songs for the Deaf that Sons of Morpheus get, but by the time they’re there, the context of what surrounds is enough to still make it their own. And that’s only more true when one considers “Slave (Never Ending Version)” behind it. A shorter edit of the track appeared on The Fuzz Charger Split, but the full spread of it here tops 13 minutes and becomes a defining moment for The Wooden House Session, fluidly turning from the verse/chorus trades of its early going to a free-sounding exploration that makes its way farther and farther out as it goes.

They ride the central riff and the chorus progression for a while, then over time let it d/evolve into its own space, the change happening right around the nine-minute mark as Sons of Morpheus make it clear that no, they’re not coming back this time. The last few minutes of “Slave (Never Ending Version)” are given to building a jam up to a considerable wash of noise and then letting it end naturally, and as they do, they highlight not only a strength they haven’t yet really shown on the album — i.e. for jamming — but further capture the atmosphere and narrative of The Wooden House Session‘s making. This organic sensibility has been at root in the material all along, but “Slave (Never Ending Version)” brings it forward in such a way as to make it the perfect capstone for the release and the listening experience. Their titling the album after where/how it was made would seem to hint to it being something of a one-off outside the normal album cycle. If that’s the case or not, there are valuable lessons for the band to learn from its construction, and one hopes those carry into whatever it might be they do next.

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Swiss heavy rockers Sons of Morpheus are currently on a tour of the Iberian Peninsula, running through Portugal and Spain for the rest of this week as they support the March 2017 Deepdive Records issue of their second album, Nemesis. You might recall back in early 2015, the Basel-based trio did a video premiere here for a Snakehill Productions-filmed clip of three songs performed live in a single take (posted here). Well, as they hit the road for the new record, they’re back with a new three-song presentation, bringing one-take live versions of “Cage,” “Riding the Wave” and “Amanita Muscaria” from Studio Stübio in Lucerne and showing off what the last couple years have brought them in terms of forward growth.

That’s no small amount, as it happens. All three cuts come from Nemesis and between them, the lineup of guitarist/vocalist Manuel Bissig, bassist Lukas Kurmann and drummer Rudy Kink demonstrate pointed riff-led structures blended with a heavy psychedelic flow. To wit, the departure in the midsection of “Cage,” ironically enough, finds them more or less completely uncaged and free to explore the aural spaces around them. Likewise, “Riding the Wave” finds itself on either side of driving forward propulsion and blown-out spacey noise and “Amanita Muscaria” drifts into laid-back flow topped with spoken vocals before opening into a solo-topped roll that serves as a suitable closer here and provides a highlight on Nemesis as well. Each song tops six minutes and has a distinctive personality, but as you can see in the clip, Sons of Morpheus have no trouble tying it all together with fluidity in a live setting, even live-in-studio.

Sons of Morpheus were recently confirmed to take part in Up in Smoke 2017 (info here) this October in Pratteln, where they’ll perform alongside Graveyard, Orange Goblin, Windhand, Radio Moscow and many more. That live date, the remaining shows for the current tour, and others can be found under the three-song video, which you’ll find below, followed by credits and other info as well.

Hope you enjoy:

Sons of Morpheus, “Cage,” “Riding the Wave” and “Amanita Muscaria” live at Studio Stübio

“One-Take” live recording by Switzerland based SONS OF MORPHEUS performing “Cage”, “Riding The Wave” and “Amanita Muscaria” live.

Recorded Feb. 2017 in Luzern, Switzerland @ Studio Stübio by Stübi. Video and editing by Snakehill Productions, Switzerland: snakehillproductions@gmx.ch.

All songs and lyrics written by Sons of Morpheus, SUISA. © & ? 2017 Sons of Morpheus & deepdive records. Published by deepdive publishing. All rights reserved. Unauthorized copying, reproducing, hiring, lending, public performance and broadcasting prohibited.

Sons of Morpheus live:
Jun 21 Daba Daba Donostia, Spain
Jun 22 Forum Celticum Culleredo, Spain
Jun 23 Cave Avenida Viana Do Castelo, Portugal
Jun 24 Stairway Club Cascais, Portugal
Jun 25 El Zagal Aldeamayor De San Martín, Spain
Jul 15 L’Unique Foodtruck Basel, Switzerland
Oct 07 Z7 Konzertfabrik at Up in Smoke 2017 Pratteln, Switzerland
Oct 13 Schüxenhaus Ins, Switzerland

Sons of Morpheus are:
Manuel Bissig – Guitars and Vocals
Lukas Kurmann – Bass
Rudy Kink – Drums

Sons of Morpheus website

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Sons of Morpheus on Bandcamp

Snakehill Productions on YouTube

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