Posted in Whathaveyou on November 20th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
I had the good fortune to be there earlier this year when Germany’s Samavayo and Slovenia’s Omega Sun met up at Planet Desert Rock Weekend V in Las Vegas. It’s amazing how much that trip set the tone for me this year, but while I muse and reflect, concern yourself instead with the tour dates below, as the two groups will reunite to make a run into Eastern Europe next February.
The lesson here is not a new one: one thing leads into the next. One day you’re in Vegas doing your first US appearance, the next you’re booking dates with new friends you happened to make on that stop. One thing into the next. This is what I mean when I say a band has momentum.
Both bands are due for albums, if you believe in due, but I haven’t heard anything concrete about new releases. I guess we’ll see what the New Year brings, apart from this tour, the announcement for which came down the PR wire:
Samavayo (DE) and Omega Sun (SLO) are hitting the road together!
After their first encounter in January 2025 in Phoenix/Tempe, USA… where else :) … the massive double pack returns to the stage. This time, they embark on a special tour across Eastern and Central Europe, featuring several first-time stops for both bands!
Friday, 30 January 2026 – DE – Dresden – HD Saturday, 31 January 2026 – CZ – Prague – Klubovna Saturday, 1 February 2026 – CZ – Brno – Sibir Monday, 2 February 2026 – HUN – Budapest – Riff Club Tuesday, 3 February 2026 – AT – Vienna – Kramladen Wednesday, 4 February 2026 – IT – Padua – Grind House Club Thursday, 5 February 2026 – SLO – Ljubljana – Channel Zero Friday, 6 February 2026 – SLO – Nova Gorica – Mostovna Saturday, 7 February 2026 – AT – Wolfsberg – JUZ
Expect a full blast of heavy rock, crushing stoner grooves, and high-energy live shows, where Samavayo’s raw intensity and Omega Sun’s massive riffs lock in seamlessly. Two bands that instantly clicked & now are hitting the road together to shake venues night after night.
Samavayo is: Stephan Voland (Drums, Vocals) Andreas Voland (Bass, Vocals) Behrang Alavi (Vocals, Guitar)
Omega Sun consists of: Igor Kukanja – Vocals and Bass Aris Demirović – Guitars Sebastian Vrbnjak – Drums
Posted in Reviews on November 19th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
I was gonna do this whole week, happy Monday, happy Tuesday, happy Wednesday, but I happen to feel like an asshole typing the words “happy Wednesday,” so I’m going to refrain. Hope your week isn’t awful, in any case.
Or if it is, I hope music can help make it better. This Quarterly Review has been a breeze thus far and looking at the lineup for today I expect the trend to continue. Thanks for hanging in with it. We pass the halfway mark today and will wrap up on Friday, with 50 releases covered throughout the week.
Quarterly Review #21-30:
Amorphis, Borderland
Yeah, okay, you can go ahead and cancel the rest of the review. Yup, I know. I’d love to sit here and talk about how Finland’s Amorphis, some 35 years and upwards of 16 full-lengths later, are still refining their processes, conjuring melodic intricacy, and celebrating death metal in kind. I’d love to talk about the progressive strains in Borderland, or about how as recognizable as Amorphis are, they’re still able to find new ways to balance the keys and guitar, or to switch up the vocals, or even just to chug proggier on “Light and Shadow” and “Fog to Fod,” whatever it might be. I’d love to talk about all of that, but you see, the thing is… “Bones.” Specifically, the riff thereof, swept into with crushing majesty and rolled forth with knows-what-it-has certainty of the type one would expect from a long-established pro-shop genre-innovating band like Amorphis. I could go on about all the other stuff, but that riff is gonna be all you need to know ahead of time. I’ll hope to have it in my head for the next year or so.
One could spend the rest of this space recounting Joe Hasselvander‘s pedigree, from Death Row to Pentagram to Raven to The Hounds of Haseelvander, with stints in countless others including Blue Cheer besides, but that doesn’t tell you much about the doom of Fire on the Mountain. Hasselvander‘s third solo outing under his name and first in 25 years follows a traditional pattern of Doom Capitol blue-collar riffing that, it has to be acknowledged, Hasselvander had a part in establishing, while the man himself plays all instruments and handles vocals, at time with a bit of a lounge-singer edge with spoken lines, but when he reaches for the higher note in third cut “Holy Water,” a big moment in the song, it’s there for him. “Prodigal Sun” is one of several images taken from the bible and would seem to be autobiographical, and he ends with a fitting apex of nod and shred in “Darkest Before the Dawn.” He’s said he has plans for more, and indeed, Fire on the Mountain sounds more like a beginning than an end.
A current of crackling, tube-heating distortion begins in “Spine,” which introduces Kariti‘s third album, Still Life, and indeed even amid the The Keening-esque piano of “Nothing” and the title-track a short time later, that hard-toned drone becomes a backbone for the material. It’s not always there — arrangements are fluid around the central guitar/keys/voice — but for an artist working in a style so intentionally mindful of aesthetic, the My Bloody Valentine-esque noise swell of “Suicide by a Thousand Cuts,” the emergence of the static in “Naiznanku” and the rumble behind the closing prayer “Baptism” bring dark avant garde experimentalism to traditionalist melodies. This is what Kariti has been developing since 2020’s Covered Mirrors (review here), working with guitarist Marco Matta on a deepening collaboration. While retaining folkish intimacy thanks to the quiet stretches around this distorted crunch (looking at you, “Purge”), Kariti has never sounded farther-reaching.
They don’t make ’em like Burning Sister anymore, and listening to Ghosts, I’m less sure they ever did. Because as much as the Colorado now-twosome of bassist/vocalist/synthesist Steve Miller and drummer Alison Salutz continue to foster a druggy ’90s-type slackerism amid all the crash in opener “Brokedick Icarus” and the drawling march of “No Space or Time,” they’ve also never quite sounded as much themselves. There’s psychedelic shimmer in the noise swirling in the later reaches of “Stellar Ghost,” and “Lethe//Oblivion” (premiered here) is made all the more a ceremony with the thread of synth and/or amplifier hum. Meanwhile, “Swerve (Dead Stars)” would work as a new wave arrangement, I can feel it, and the longest-song-by-a-second “Dead Love” (7:20) closes with a thrilling roll and languid procession, reinforcing the downerism that’s been essential to Burning Sister since their outset. Whatever comes in the future, being a duo suits these songs.
A quick turnaround third full-length from London’s The Lunar Effect will be nothing to complain about for those who (like me) got on board with the London heavy rock outfit via last year’s Sounds of Green and Blue (review here). Also on Svart, the follow-up brims with cohesion in its songwriting and purpose in its twists, with the opener “Feed the Hand” establishing the command that proves unwavering through “Watchful Eye,” the brash speed-shuffler “Five and Two” and the lonely sway of “My Blue Veins” before “Stay With Me” modernizes Graveyardian soul en route to the grunge-riffed centerpiece “Settle Down.” The dynamic continues to expand with the piano-led “I Disappear” speaking to a burgeoning reach in songwriting, while “A New Moon Rises” regrounds and “Scotoma” smoothly finds a niche in desert rock that probably hundreds of bands wish they could make their own, and “Nailed to the Sky” rounds out by going big on tone and emotionality alike. So far, these guys are a better band than people know. They inject a little drama to these proceedings, and it sounds like there’s more to come.
While the closing title-track has a thread of prog metal that reminds of mid-period Devin Townsend, Auckland, New Zealand’s King Cruel back their 2023 Creeper three-song EP with a marked sense of atmosphere, the melodies of careening lead track “Haunting Time” calling to mind Boston’s Worshipper in their metallic underpinnings, shred and thoughtful melody. Sky Eater is my first exposure to the band, whose style balances mood and impact smoothly, and whose hooks are inviting without being cloying, as in “Diamond Darya,” which digs in and rides its central riff with a stoner rocker’s dedication and a poise that comes from knowing why they’re doing it. The aforementioned capper is the catchiest of the bunch, but King Cruel, goal-wise, have more in their sights than catchiness, and given the sprawl they lay out here, one can’t help but wonder if a debut album won’t be next.
I won’t claim to know how it was made, between what’s improvised, layered in, overdubbed, conjured from ethereal planes beyond the limits of understanding, and so on, but Angad Berar‘s eight-track/50-minute Sundae is indeed a sweet dish of psychedelic immersion. The Berlin-based solo artist made it in collaboration with guitarist/synthesist/bassist Kartik Pillai, while drummer Siddharth Kaushik sits in on the 10-minute penultimate cut and vocalist Chrisrah guests on the only song that isn’t a numbered jam, the moody mellow liquefier “Driving With You” before “Jam #3” and the horn sounds of “Jam #4” re-immerse the listener in slow-churning fluidity. “Jam #6,” with the live drums and extended runtime, is pointedly hypnotic in its first half, but has some Endless Boogie-type rock angularity later that makes it fun, while the closing “Jam #7” offers a seven-minute drone meditation before handing the listener back over to reality. Serenity abounds if you know where to find it.
Trevor’s Head, Fall Toward the Sun // Majesty and Harmony
Admirably celebrating their 15th anniversary in 2025 with touring and new music, UK melodic heavy rockers Trevor’s Head bring the Abbey Road-recorded “Fall Toward the Sun” and “Majesty and Harmony” together, not quite to encapsulate their sound or everything they’ve accomplished in their time, but to typify the ethic of marking the occasion by doing the thing itself; that is, they’re writing music because it’s what they love to do. “Fall Toward the Sun” and “Majesty and Harmony” both have an edge of aired-out ’90s-type noise rock — nothing new for Trevor’s Head in terms of style — but where they hit you with it up front in the first song, the latter holds its payoff in reserve for when they depart the titular harmonies and get to the surge of crunch in the midsection. Running seven minutes total, you wouldn’t accuse Trevor’s Head of overindulging, but instead, they give their fans and followers something new to dig into that in ethic and realization can only serve as a reminder of their appeal in the first place.
Burl, crunch, lumber, crush, groove and sprawl — the Rob Wrong (Witch Mountain)-recorded debut full-length from Portland, Oregon, riffchucking five-piece Ravine knows from whence it hails. There are some flashes of cosmic intention, but sludgier, earthbound nods pervade the five-track/47-minute outing, which holds its ambition not in a performative stylistic overreach — that is to say, Ravine are who they are musically; there’s no pretense here as they hit you with it straight forward — but in the course each of these tracks takes. Their heaviest onslaught might be in the willfully, almost gleefully grueling “Ennui,” of course the centerpiece, but even there Ravine aren’t content just to doom, or rock, or sludge out, etc., instead working to create a sense of momentum within the songs as each follows its own path, marking out its own place while adding to the whole. They’re not done growing, and I don’t think the balance of their approach is settled, but given what they already lay out, that’s a strength in their favor. This is the kind of debut that makes friends.
Sweden’s Malgomaj aren’t through the opening title-track (a bookending two-parter) of Valfiskens Buk before they’ve put forth primo hard boogie and inventive Sabbathry, classic in influence, modern in production/execution, and continuing to brim with movement as “Rembrants Skugga” and the softshow-ready “Hej Hej Malgomaj” back it. I suppose the elephant in the room here is Graveyard, but “Värddjur” has more Motörheaded foundations, and the instrumental “Itera Mot Solnedgången” hints toward Westernism before the seven-minute “Cyklopisk Betong” flattens with its early riff only to redirect to ’60s-ish garage jangle, so one wouldn’t accuse Malgomaj on this apparent debut of being singleminded, but neither are they lacking cohesion or flow between songs. “Stöttingfjället Rämnar” answers the heft of the track prior and “Det Är Nåt Fel På Solen” sets a languid march before “Valfiskens Buk Del 2” reprises the opener to make the album sound all the more complete, whether you speak the language or not.
Posted in Whathaveyou on November 6th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Hell yeah, Desertfest Berlin. The 2026 edition of the German flagship event of heavy’s most crucial festival brand will bring over Nebula for oldschool heads, Fomies for newer heads, Fuzz Sagrado for the in-betweens and Blackwater Holylight for the betterment of all humanity and the weekend in general. That’s not everybody in the second lineup announcement from Desertfest Berlin 2026, as Seattle’s Monsterwatch and Mexico City’s Cardiel will also be making the trip, but taken in combination with the first announcement — you can see the names below; golly they’ll make for a lovely assemblage — you can see it’s very much a roster worthy of the tradition they’re upholding. I don’t think underground heavy would be what it is in Europe today without Desertfest Berlin.
The PR wire brought the update:
DESERTFEST BERLIN reveals second wave of bands for 2026, adding NEBULA, BLACKWATER HOLYLIGHT & more!
The 2026 edition of DESERTFEST BERLIN just turned up the fuzz and drifted deeper into the void, as more mind-bending acts join the already eclectic line-up!
From the sunburned deserts of California, NEBULA bring their fuzz-soaked, interstellar riff rituals – pure cosmic fire. Portland’s BLACKWATER HOLYLIGHT summon a dark, dreamlike blend of heavy psych and ethereal melody, where doom meets hypnosis. Sweden’s EF shape vast post-rock landscapes, full of emotion and light, stretching beyond the horizon. Switzerland’s fuzz prophets FOMIES channel raw desert spirit through sun-cracked distortion and groove, while FUZZ SAGRADO (ex Samsara Blues Experiment) deliver hypnotic, groove-driven stoner rock rooted in thick tones and jam-heavy flow. Seattle’s MONSTERWATCH erupt in a storm of grunge and punk fury, reckless and cathartic. And from the streets of Mexico City, CARDIEL will ignite the DESERTFEST BERLIN stage with their skate-punk–meets–psychedelic fuzz revolution – political, wild, and unstoppable.
Today’s new additions crank the line-up to the next level, joining a first wave that already boasts heavy-hitters like RUSSIAN CIRCLES, HERMANO ft. JOHN GARCIA, THE SWORD, KING BUFFALO, ACID KING, TRUCKFIGHTERS, EARTHLESS, and many more!
From May 14–16, 2026 at Columbiahalle & Columbia-Theater, DESERTFEST BERLIN will turn the German capital into a heavy riff sanctuary, with more names and special suprises to follow. Better act quick and get your ticket now at:https://desertfest-tickets.de/produkte
Heavy psych/prog rockers Abanamat release their second album, Abominat, on Oct. 17 through Interstellar Smoke Records. It is the Berlin four-piece’s follow-up to a well-received 2023 self-titled debut (review here) and is cleverly constructed well beyond the phonetic similarity between its title and the band’s name. Opening with “Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife,” which is both leadoff and the longest of the seven inclusions (immediate points), the band begin with a surprisingly languid fluidity, showing self-awareness in the use of ‘dream’ in the title for the sense of flow in the overarching lead guitar. Vocals come and go throughout the album, handled by guitarist Max Goetsch, but they start instrumental, and the clearly-conveyed intention is to immerse the listener in sound. There’s maybe some escapist element there — it’s a brightly-colored dream of Ms. Fisherman — but it’s the chemistry of the band that carries it, Goetsch and fellow guitarist Dima Zangiev joined in the rhythm section by bassist Pedro Pinheiro and drummer Tyler Pesek, who if they didn’t record live were close enough to it.
Side A works longest to shortest across the first three tracks, and “Blue Yonder” picks up where the evocations of “Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife” left off, but soon becomes a proggy shuffle with the first vocals of the record complementing a couple twisting verses before a re-mellowing brings it back to the intro, this time with watery vocal effects, and inevitably renews the shove. You know it’s coming, they know it’s coming, it’s still satisfying. Unless I have where the side split is wrong (possible), “Carpet Denim,” as opposed to ‘carpe diem,’ caps the first half of Abominat, with a fuller tonality and further reinforcement of some of My Sleeping Karma‘s Orientalist meditations. The all-in solo that takes it well past its midpoint and toward the riffy end feels like a precursor for the album-capper title-track, which as noted by the PR wire below has a guest appearance from Isaiah Mitchell (Earthless, Tranquonauts, etc.), providing a culmination for itself and the two songs prior before it’s done.
“Fossil Eyes” (say it out loud) brings hand-percussion to the record’s shortest cut as the guitar emphasizes minor-key delve. There’s more movement than one might expect, but it’s still primarily hypnotic, particularly as an instrumental. Side B, working shortest to longest across its first three songs with the title-track excepting itself from the rule to close, grows vibrant with the surge of “Zugzwang,” emphasizing groove even as the guitar goes a-universe-tearin’ once more. The arrival of vocals two minutes in is met by a denser riff that steps back to give space, but as with “Blue Yonder,” the voice is there and then gone and the band dig back in for the instrumental ending. I’m not sure one is more their element than the other, actually — voiced or not — but the way they flesh out parts is suited to letting the exploration happen without being called back to the start of a cycle every time a line of lyrics is done. The chugging finish of the penultimate “Saturnine,” comes after an Elder-style serenity is established and revealed as a build through its verses and solos.
And speaking of solos, “Abominat” follows. Its placement is somewhat odd considering the way the rest of the LP seems to be laid out in part by runtimes, but it makes sense once you hear the riff at the center of it and the swirl that surrounds. Mitchell‘s guest spot howls at the conclusion, and I guess it’s fair enough that Abanamat would put it in such a position of respect — to wit, it’s the last thing to go when the song is over — although the truth of the matter is that as regards guitar work, Goetsch and Zangiev have just about carried the album the whole time, and their stepping back from ‘finishing the job’ feels like a decision that sits “Abominat” almost as a bonus track in the progression of the record, separated from the rest of the proceedings by the banger adrenaline scorch of “Saturnine” and very much its own thing, less about the willful growth in sound Abanamat present throughout Abominat (including in the title-track) than what comes before it. That’s not a dig; it’s a ripper. It’s also something of a diversion.
But, one of the great strength of Abominat throughout its 41 minutes is that one doesn’t really know where a given track might end up when it starts out, and that’s true of the closer as well. Across the entire span, Abanamat come through like a band who have worked hard and pushed themselves to expand on what they did with the first record, and the material itself bears the fruit of that labor in its progressive, intricate style. Where they go from here, I don’t know, but I’ll be keen to find out when the time comes.
Abominat streams in full on the player below, followed by release info from the PR wire.
Please enjoy:
Based in Berlin, heavy psych and prog merchants ABANAMAT come from all over the globe, united to combine their sonic wizardry into a mainlined dose of sublime psychedelia.
2023’s debut self-titled planted their name in the sand, and the crew’s sophomore effort “Abominat” sees them embrace the blissful side of their psychedelia and flirt with their penchant for proggy shredding.
Dazzling guitarwork is again the centerpiece, weaving a tapestry of international influences across seven tracks. Vocals are sparse and let the instruments do the talking, creating a journey heavy on atmosphere and shimmering with spiraling riffs and airtight drumwork.
Upping the ante and awaiting listeners at the end of the trip is the final and title track, featuring the fiery guitarwork of none other than Earthless’ Isaiah Mitchell, who cranks up the fuzz for a barn burner of a send-off.
“Abominat” lands October 17th on Interstellar Smoke Records, and can be experienced live when ABANAMAT set out to tour Germany and neighboring countries in 2026.
ABANAMAT – Abominat Album out October 17th, 2025 Interstellar Smoke Records (Digital, Vinyl, CD) Berlin, Germany FFO: Camel, Earthless, Diamond Head, Mulatu Astatke, Prince, Once and Future Band
Recorded and mixed by Richard Behrens with additional recording by Fabien de Menou at Big Snuff Studio, Berlin, 2024. Produced by Richard Behrens Mastered by Carl Saff Artwork by Sara Koncilja
ABANAMAT is: Tyler Pesek – drums Pedro Pinheiro – bass Dima Zangiev – guitar Max Goetsch – guitar/vocals
Posted in Reviews on October 13th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Last day o’ the QR, and that’s always fun, but looking at the calendar and looking at my desktop, I might try to knuckle down for a follow-up edition next month. I know I traditionally do one in December, which is so, so, so stupid, even with the relative dearth of press releases around the holidays, because there’s so much else going on. But maybe in November, before the Thanksgiving holiday. I only have one thing maybe-slated for November now, so now would be the time to slate it. Check back Nov. 10? Roll it out on my sister’s birthday? Maybe.
For now though, one more batch of 10 to round out the 70 total releases covered here, and as ever, I’ve basically packed the final day with stuff I already know I like. That’s nothing against anything on any of the other days, but if you’re a regular around here, you probably already know that I load up the finish to make it easier on myself. Not that any day here was really hard to get through, but for everything else in life that isn’t sitting in front of the laptop and writing about music.
Thanks as always for reading. I hope you found something you dig in this QR. Back to normal tomorrow.
Quarterly Review #61-70:
Elder, Liminality/Dream State Return
Progressive heavy rock spearheads Elder surprise-dropped Liminality/Dream State Return, their first two-songer EP since 2012’s Spires Burn/Release (review here), a couple weeks ago. It’s their first studio outing since 2022’s Innate Passage (review here), and while one might be tempted to read into the melodic wash of “Liminality” (13:10) and the way its vocals become part of the song’s atmosphere, balanced for nuance and texture in the mix, and the keyboardier take on “Dream State Return,” the material was reportedly sourced from pieces of material left over from their last couple albums, rather than written new. Nonetheless, the way these parts are fleshed out underscores just how special a band Elder is, since basically they can take a progression they’ve had laying around for however long and turn into something so majestic. This, in combination with their work ethic, has made them the best band of their generation. They remain such.
Following 2023’s Ingress (review here), brash Salt Lake City four-piece Hibernaut — guitarist/vocalist Dave Jones (Oxcross, Dwellers, ex-SubRosa), lead guitarist Matt Miller, bassist Josh Dupree and drummer Zach Hatsis (Dwellers, ex-SubRosa) — begin to step further out from their influences with their second album, the six-track/47-minute Obsidian Eye. High on Fire remain a central point of inspiration, but you know how that band really kind of announced who they were with Blessed Black Wings and set themselves on their own path? There’s some of that happening in the grooves of “Pestiferous,” “Revenants” and others here, and while the galloping double-kick and dirt-coated declarations might ring familiar, Hibernaut are beginning to put their own stamp on their craft, and one remains curious how that will continue to manifest their persona in their sound. High on Fire never had a song like “Beset,” and that wah on “Engorge Behemoth” has just an edge of Sabbath-via-Electric Wizard, so there’s more here than marauding if you want to hear it.
Titled as though they intended to preempt criticism of their own self-indulgence — a kinder-self-talk version might have been called ‘Expansive’ — the second album from L.A.’s The Oil Barons, Grandiose, is working with an expanded definition of heavy either way. Part desert rock, it’s also Western Americana enough to open with a take on Morricone and while they’re for sure laying it on thick with the gang-chanted version of “John Brown’s Body” worked in between the organ sway of “Gloria” and the nine-minute lap-steel-inclusive expanse of “Shinola.” The later heavy instrumental reacher “Quetzalacatenango” (16:39) and their beefing up of the Grateful Dead regular “Morning Dew” as “Morning Doom” (13:49) are longer, but there’s more going on here than track length, as the melodic twang-pop of “Vivienne” and the light-barroom-swing-into-harmonies-into-riffs of the subsequent “Death Hangs” demonstrate. Top it all off with a purported narrative and Grandiose lives up to its name, but also to its intention.
The first Temple of Love full-length, Songs of Love and Despair, feels very much like a willful callout to classic goth rock. The core, partnered founding duo of vocalist Suzy Bravo (Witchcryer) and guitarist/vocalist Steve Colca (ex-Destroyer of Light), as well as the rhythm section of bassist Joseph Maniscalco and drummer Patrick Pascucci (Duel) begin with a string of catchy, uptempo numbers dark in atmosphere with an unmistakable sheen on the guitar tone and by the time the centerpiece instrumental “Paradise Lost” takes hold with a heavier shift leading into the second half of the album, with “Devil” as an obvious focal point, you’re hooked. The vocal trades on “Save Yourself” and the rocker “Joke’s on You,” with Colca growling a bit, distinguish them as modern, but they’re firm in their purpose unto the string sounds that cap “If We Could Fly,” and clearly aesthetic is part of the mission. They didn’t name themselves after a Sisters of Mercy LP by mistake.
From garage-style heavy and psychedelic jamming, modern space boogie to denser, doomier roll and a stylistically-offbeat quirk that feels ever more intentional, Montana-based trio The Gray Goo are dug into this mini-gamut of style on their third album, Cabin Fever Dreams, with guitarist/vocalist Max Gargasz (who also recorded/produced) giving space in the mix (by Robert Parker) for the melody in Matt Carper‘s bass to come through on 10-minute opener/longest track (immediate points) “Intrepid Traveler,” beginning a thread of nuance that emphasizes just how flexible the band’s sound is. Even amid the fuzz and chugging resolution of “Isolation” and the jammed-but-with-a-plan “Floodgates,” there’s a sense of looking beyond genre to internalized individualism, the latter carrying into the marching semi-nerd-rapped title-track, which breaks to let the weirdness persist before coming back around with a shuffle to close, while “Manic” (with Colton Sea on guest vocals) roughs up proto-punk until it hits a midsection of Sabbath blues and gets a little more shove from there. “Manic” brings this to a culmination and some chanting gives over the minimal psych experiment “Someone’s at the Door,” which closes. They’ve let go of some — not all, but some — of their earlier funk, but The Gray Goo remain delightfully on their own wavelength. Someone in this band likes Ween, and they’re better for it.
A decade after his first solo release, the declarative 1974 (review here), former Los Natas guitarist/vocalist Sergio Ch. (né Chotsourian, also of Ararat, Soldati, numerous other projects and collaborations) has only broadened his palette around a central approach to avant folk and intimate experimentalism. “Las Riendas” has been around for a while, unless I’m wrong (always possible) and “Tufi Meme 94” is an unearthed four-track demo of the Los Natas song of the same name, but it’s in the repetitions and slow, fuzz-infused evolution of “Tear Drop,” the vocally-focused “Stairway” and the somehow-ceremonial “Centinelas Bajo el Sol” that Shiva Shakti Dramalays out its most ethereal reaches. The album was reportedly put together following an injury to Chotsourian‘s ear, during a recovery period after his “left ear blew up during a Soldati rehearsal.” So there’s healing to be had in “Little Hands” and the buzzing lead of “Violet,” as well as exploration.
Spectral Fields is the duo of Jason Simon (Dead Meadow) and and Caleb Dravier (Jungle Gym Records), and with IV they present a two-part title-piece “IV A” (20:04) and “IV B” (23:12), with each extended track taking on its own atmosphere. The hand percussion behind “IV A” is evocative of quiet desert Americana, like clopping horseshoes, while “IV B” runs more sci-fi in its keyboard and synthy beat behind the central, malleable-and-less-still-than-it-seems overarching drone. The guitar on “IV A” works with a similar river’s-surface-style deceptive stillness. Immersion isn’t inevitable, and the challenge here is to dwell alongside the band in the material if you can, with the reward for doing so being carried across the gradually-shifting expanse that Simon and Dravier lay out. It’s not a project for everybody, but Spectral Fields shine with meditative purpose and ethereal presence alike.
The second full-length, Resolution, from Denver-based harmony-prone heavy rockers Pink Fuzz owes much of its impact to tempo and melody — which I think makes it music. The brother/sister duo of John Demitro (guitar) and bassist LuLu Demitro bass share vocal duties and trade lead spots to add variety across the taut, no-time-for-bullshit 10 songs as drummer Forrest Raup lends shove to the buzzing desert riffage of “Coming for Me,” while the title-track shreds into a ’90s-style ticky-ticky-tock of a groove and “Am I Happy?” moves from its standalone-voice beginning to a gorgeously executed build and roll, bolstered by the Alain Johannes mix bringing up the lead guitar alongside LuLu’s voice, but rooted in the performance captured rather than the after-the-fact balancing of elements. “No Sympathy” and “Worst Enemy” stick closer to a Queens of the Stone Age influence, but the desert is a starting point, not the end of their reach. It’d be fair to call them songwriting-based if they didn’t also kick so much ass as players.
Having the tone is one thing and making it move is another, but Dorset, UK, two-piece The Dukes of Hades bring forth their debut EP, Oracle of the Dead with a pointed sense of push, more so once they’re on the other side of rolling-into-the-slowdown opener “Seeds of Oblivion,” in “Last Rites,” “Pigs” and “Constant Grief,” where the tempo is higher and the bruises are delivered by the measure. Even Gareth Brunsdon‘s snare on “Constant Grief” comes across thick, never mind the buzzing riffs of Steve Lynch, whose guttural vocals top the procession. They save their most fervent shove for the two-minute finale “Death Defying Heights,” but the eight-minute penultimate “Tomahawk” sees them work in more of a middle-paced range while executing trades in volume and even letting go to silence as they hit minute six soon to burst back to life, so they’re already messing with the formula a bit even as they write out what that formula might be. That’s just one of the hopeful portents on this gritty and impressive first outing.
A noise-infused trio from Vancouver — or maybe it’s just that their logo reminds me of Whores. — the three-piece Worse issued their latest single “Misandrist” in memory of Ozzy, following on from the also-one-songer “Mackinaw” from earlier in the year. The newer cut is more lumbering and establishes a larger tonal presence by virtue of its instrumentalist take, while drummer Matt Wood brought party-time shouts to “Mackinaw,” which of course emphasized and complemented the central riff in a different way. Out front of the stage, guitarist Shane Clark and bassist Frank Dingle offer rumble and spacious distortion, the effect seeming to build up with each new, lurching round as they dirge to the fading ringout. Sludgy in form, the affect presents itself like a half-speed High on Fire, which if you’ve got to end up somewhere, is a more than decent place for “Misandrist” to be. If you’re still reading this, yes, I’m talking about myself as well as the band. They’ve got one LP out. I’d take another anytime they’ve got it ready.
Posted in Reviews on October 10th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
This isn’t the end of the Quarterly Review — it wraps up on Monday — but it is the end of the week, and I’m ready for it. The music’s been good though and that’s something of a salvation for times where it seems like the strange and terrifying are in competition with each other to make life more awful. That doesn’t end on the weekend, of course, but at least I’ll have two days to put together the last post of this QR, and when you’ve been writing 10 reviews a day all week, half that counts as respite. Something like it, anyhow.
So before we wrap up the week with whatever on earth I’ll actually pick to close it out (any requests?), here’s one more batch, with my thanks for your valuable time and attention. Hope you find something cool.
Quarterly Review #51-60:
P+A+G+E+S, No More Can Be Done
No More Can Be Done is the debut album from South Africa’s P+A+G+E+S, but the Cape Town trio spent five years in the 2010s together as Morning Pages, so that their first record would hold so much intention behind it shouldn’t necessarily be a shocker. The reason behind the name change? An apparent change in their project, which is to say the band got way, way darker, way, way heavier and nasty in that sharp-toothed-thing-you-can’t-see-but-you-know-is-there-also-there-are-no-lights kind of way. The 15-minute opener/longest track (immediate points) “The Passage” leads the way down into the bleak, extreme sludge that follows, but as the careful linear build of “Shine On” later demonstrates, P+A+G+E+S are more methodical than the noise and outwardly chaotic feel would seem to indicate. Atmosphere plays a central role in what they do, and that’s consistent from their run as Morning Pages, but No More Can Be Done is about what’s lurking and lurching in the bleakness.
Following the intro “Chasm,” Bask launch their fourth album, The Turning, with minor-key mystique and subsequent crush via “In the Heat of the Dying Sun” and “The Traveler,” piling triumph upon triumph in a way that is indicative of the progressive songwriting at work. “The Cloth” is slower, but neither less weighted nor less gorgeous for that, and as “Dig My Heels” works in some of the Southern/Americana pastoralism the Asheville, North Carolina, outfit have always been known for, the melody proves a standout, setting up another life-affirming payoff in the seven-minute “Unwound,” the mellower turn for the build of “Long Lost Light” and the somewhat wistfully twanging undertones of the title-track, which closes with grace and poise rare enough in heavy anything. Clearly a band who have worked to and been successful in transcending their root influences, and an identity that’s been hard-forged over their decade-plus. The Turning sees them actively bring their approach to another level.
A 15-minute two-songer from Lima, Peru’s Matus, as the psychedelic weirdo sometimes-cultists of long standing offer “El Aullido” (8:45) and “Planetario” (6:55) as their first outing since 2021’s Espejismos II (review here). Both processions — and they are that — feel built out from jams, but the recordings have guitarist Manolo Garfias and keyboardist Richard Nossar (both also alternate bass duties) at their core, along with Roberto Soto‘s drumming, Veronik‘s theremin in the deep-freakout section of “Planetario,” Úrsula Inga‘s vocals on “El Aullido,” and so on with other guests (including Camilo Uriarte, who co-produced and mixed, along solo artist Chino Burga on guitar, and Cristóbal Pérez on sax for “Planetario”) adding to the movement. “El Aullido” pairs shoegaze with a roll informed by South American folk, perfect for Inga‘s vocals, while “Planetario” carries more of its melody in the keyboards and surrounding ambience. It’s a welcome check-in from Matus as they celebrate the 20th anniversary of the band.
Where New England bizarropsych rockers November’s Fire‘s 2024 album, Through a Mournful Song, took an approach to its material like some of earliest Monster Magnet‘s underproduced kitchen-sink quirk, the two-song EP 2025 presents two different faces, and that turns out to be because the songs included are over 30 years old. “2025” and “Somnia” — the latter which brings in original guitarist Greg Brosseau for a guest spot that includes clean lead vocals — were allegedly written in the early 1990s, and if you told me the root of the title-track was a teenaged thrash riff, they make that easy enough to believe in the modernized, thickened chug of the song as it stands now. That is to say, they’ve brought it into the sludgy experimentalist context of the work now, but it remains dark. As it inevitably would. “Somnia” is shorter, has some backing chants, and feels meditative even as the guitar holds to its restlessness. Weird band staying weird, screwing around with their old stuff and getting something out of it. Sometimes an experiment works.
Bergen, Norway, four-piece Goatmilker don’t really leave you with much choice other than to call them progressive, though that hardly says boo about the reach of their self-titled debut, which is as much psychedelic punk as it is black metal in its rhythms, but remains a work of heavy rock and roll nonetheless, grooving, catchy on “Devils on My Tail,” aggro-weird on “Time… Tearing Apart,” all-in on tonal overwhelm for “Mountains” and cheekily grandiose in the finale “Storm” only after they’ve seen fit to take on Journey‘s “Separate Ways (Worlds Apart),” which given the goes-where-it-wants succession leading up to it hardly feels out of place at all. While at no risk of overstaying its welcome at eight songs and 34 minutes, Goatmilker does make for a challenging listen at times, but the rewards for actually paying attention to what they’re doing are worth whatever effort is required. That is to say, engage actively for best results.
If Grin sound a little different on Incantation, a two-track 7″ with a digital bonus cut in the flatteningly heavy “Echoes in the Static,” that might be because the duo of drummer/vocalist Jan Oberg and bassist Sabine Oberg didn’t record themselves as usual, but instead tracked live at Wave Akademie in their native Berlin with Anton Urban (Jan Oberg co-produced, mixed and mastered, so still had a hand for sure). So, rather than the studio leftovers one might expect mere months after the band’s last full-length, Acid Gods (review here), the songs may have their origins as such but arise from different circumstances. There’s some more of a wash to “Incantation” and “The Color of Ghosts,” and “Echoes in the Static” is consumed by its titular noise toward its finish, but “The Color of Ghosts” dares some melodic vocals amid all that bombast, and as usual, Grin forge their own take on metal, sludge and intense atmospheric heavy.
A collection of bangers on the second LP through Glory or Death Records from San Diego rockers Mezzoa, TON 618 plays out over the course of a taut 13 songs and 39 minutes, careening desert style in “Hard to Hear,” punking up the groove in “Chump” before basking in Sabbath worship for “Wasted Universe” (think “Symptom” thereof), building crunching tension in “Uncle Cho” only to release it in the second half of the song with a grunge melody, carrying that melody into “Smiles for Everyone,” and then slamming all that momentum into the fuzzed radness of the lead tone and Alice in Chainsy vocal of “How You Been.” That’s not the end, I’m just less efficient than the band and so I’m running out of space. “Blessing” attains inner Nirvana while “Desert Snakes” sounds like it’s ready for a John Garcia guest spot, “Chachi Liberachi” echoes the sharper corners of “Wasted Universe,” “Goin’ Down” has that riff that every New York hardcore song ever (yes, all of them. don’t @ me.) has but goes somewhere completely different with it, and closer “How Are We” highlights the craft that’s let them do it all in the first place. Hey kid, you like rock music? Well get a load of this.
Beginning with its longest track in the nine-minute “Biting In,” Orsak:Oslo‘s Silt and Static finds the Norwegian/Swedish outfit somewhat outgrown from their dronier foundations, harnessing a psychedelia that moves with krautrocking purposes, while retaining the band’s previously-established ambient instrumentalist approach. “Days Adrift” is an even thicker roll, with ebbs and flows that give precedent to the shove that results in “Salt Stains,” which follows, while “Petals” dips momentarily into minimalism. But the story here is the fullness of sound, with pieces like the subdued-but-building “Resonance in Ash” or “Petals” in conversation with Pelican/Russian Circles-style heavy, while “The Onward Stride” and “Time Leak” bring prog more to the forefront and “Bread and Sink” lets the rumble bring it all together. In these ways, Silt and Static rewrites the story of Orsak:Oslo as a band, and their reach has never seemed so broad.
Modder, Destroying Ourselves for a Place in the Sun
The hypnotic drone finish of “Type 27” that ends side A of Modder‘s second album, Destroying Ourselves for a Place in the Sun, is just one way the band incorporate ambience as a key element in their trades between loud and quiet, tense and open, and crushing and spacious. These different sides come together in various combinations across the six cuts on the Belgian instrumentalist five-piece’s 41-minute run, which sets out in oppressive and blasting fashion with “Stone Eternal,” as heavy as whatever doom you want to put it next to and still able to hit with the precision of Gojira. The shorter “Mather” is more angular, glitchy and mirrored by “Chaoism” on the album’s second half, and though they lead off with their longest track (immediate points) in “Stone Eternal,” the heavy djenty chug that comes to fruition on “In the Sun” is unmistakable as anything but the closer, building, receding, tossing in what sure sounds like a human voice chanting and surging in intensity to round out with a keyboard-overlaid bludgeoning. By then you’re pretty much pulp anyway.
Past Warnings of Present Futures tells you a lot about its point of view in the title, but electronic experimentalists Futuredrugs push the meaning deeper still, opening with a barely recognizable take on “What a Wonderful World” with “Skies of Blue” and revamping Tom Waits‘ “Dirt in the Ground” on “…And the Gallows Groaned.” The cinematic, dark synth/programmed backdrop of these and the sampled “No Home” blur the line between originality and reinterpretation/manipulation, and I won’t claim to know whether pieces like “Ice Age Coming” or “When the Last Tree Falls” are similarly sourced, but maybe. In any case, in a time when remembering things like “nothing matters anyway” is a comfort, there is space for the open-minded listener to dwell among these seven tracks, which when taken as a whole succeed in embodying the apocalyptic hellscape of recent years. I don’t know if they’re offering sanctuary so much as a snapshot, but as that, it sure feels like an accurate depiction.
Posted in Reviews on October 9th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Today is Thursday, but it’s day five of the Fall 2025 Quarterly Review because I snuck in that first day last Friday. I cannot convey to you how much that has screwed me up. Turns out when you do one thing precisely one way for like 13 years and then all of a sudden flip it around another way it can be confusing. Stay tuned for more deep-impact life hacks and insights like this.
Or maybe riffs instead. It’s okay. That’s most of what keeps me coming back too.
Quarterly Review #41-50:
Paradise Lost, Ascension
More than 35 years on from their outset, Paradise Lost are an institution. I know they’ve had their stylistic divergences, but since recommitting themselves to their morose take on doom metal more than 15 years ago, they’ve hit a rare echelon of reliability one can only call Kreator-esque. That’s not a sonic comparison, but like the German thrash stalwarts, Paradise Lost have their sound — dark and more malleable in tempo than the thickened tones make it feel across these 10 songs — and within that sphere are able to do basically what they want musically and make it work. Side A’s “Salvation,” the longest inclusion at seven minutes, is a tour de force of the appeal of modern Paradise Lost, and a fitting summary of how encompassing they’ve become while still remaining recognizable as themselves. They even get hooky on “Deceivers,” so yes, still growing, still pushing, still Paradise Lost. A once-a-generation band, even as part of a cohort as they were, and not to be taken for granted.
The sixth full-length from still-younger-than-some-bands-who-haven’t-been-around-as-long Icelandic heavy rockers The Vintage Caravan plays out across 17 tracks and 59 minutes, with groups of songs presumably corresponding to double-vinyl side splits separated by interludes each of which is named “Portal.” So, Portals. The first of them follows “Philosopher,” the lead single which features Mikael Åkerfeldt, who turns out to be one of several guests across the record, but the real headliner is the songwriting. In the big choruses of “Here You Come Again,” “Give and Take,” and others, the band recall a heyday when rock could be heavy and accessible outside its own sphere, while “Electrified” later on builds into a tense boogie hook before “Portal V” transitions to the acoustic-based “My Aurora” and the closer “This Road,” one more uptempo, shred-inclusive, exceptionally well-crafted piece of The Vintage Caravan‘s classic-heavy-informed style, efficient in getting its point across despite allowing itself time to dwell as it does throughout.
It’s not really a huge surprise that Los Angeles dark heavy psych rockers Spirit Mother would ‘go acoustic’ at some point, given the dynamic they’ve showcased to-date on their definitely-plugged studio albums. The most recent of those, 2024’s righteous, Heavy Psych Sounds-issued Trails (review here), is the source for “Wolves” and “Below,” which feature on this short, stripped-down offering. “Wolves,” which capped the record in memorable fashion, leads off here with its foreboding feeling all the more realized given the state of the world, while “Below” finds violinist SJ pushing into a soft crescendo taking off from Armand Lance‘s guitar and vocals. Recorded live, Songs From the Basin sounds duly organic, and whenever Spirit Mother in any form — that is, the full band or just the duo as they are here — wants to drop a full acoustic set, I’m here for it. Once again, the lesson is once you have well-written songs, you can make them do and be just about whatever you want.
I’m pretty sure the now-Berlin-based experimentalist duo of Aidan Baker and Leah Buckareff are north of 30 full-lengths released since their first one in 2002, and that doesn’t count blurring the lines between one project and another with collaborations or Baker‘s solo work. Prolific as they are, they remain expressive in the hard-drum-machined “It’s Cold When You Cut Me” (15:09), one of the four extended inclusions of Cut, where the sinister undercurrent comes to fruition in the song’s second half of manipulated, noisy drone. “Dark, No Knowledge” (13:26) lays out a distorted landscape and rolls through it, Godflesh in a hand-cranked meat grinder, becoming a swell of apocalyptic noise, while “She Ate His Dreams From the Inside and Spat Out the Frozen Fucking Bones” (15:14) dares to be pretty as it leaves spaces open and fills out later with psychedelic processionmaking, leaving the immediate ritual of “Omenformation” to resonate high before piling on low end frequencies while also freakjazzing and riffing out. The noise swallows all but it turns out there’s salvation in that monster’s stomach, so I’ll take it. One Nadja album may be an inevitable precursor to the next one, but that doesn’t mean they don’t make it a world of its own.
Düsseldorf-bred psych rockers Vibravoid belong in a class of undervalued all their own. As they mark their 35th anniversary, they begin their new studio album Remove the Ties with a mischievous redirect of krautrock-style electronics before the garage-wavey “Neustart” and pop-shimmerier “Power of Dreams” dig further into the heart of the record, letting side A round out with the longer, deeper-reverbed “Follow Me Follow You” and its effects barrage play out atop the steady kick drum tasked with holding it together. But nobody who’s been in a band for 35 years is about to actually be sloppy, and there’s no actual danger of off-the-rails on Remove the TiesBaby Woodrose roamed the earth. Vibravoid were there then too. It’s easy to get around when you’re from a different dimension.
Do you have six minutes for a good pummeling? Of course you do. Brooklynite four-piece For Fuck’s Sake offer two tracks like a digital punker 7″ with 7-Minute Abs/Lobotomy, and they make no attempt to hide the fact of their sights being set on destruction. Their sound, rooted in hardcore and sludge in like measure, counting in with the snare on “7-Minute Abs” and daring to cross the three-minutes-long threshold with the fervent chug and bone-on-bone impact of “Lobotomy,” reminds of nothing so much as earlier 16, but with an unmistakable edge of Northeastern confrontationalism. That is, they’ll fuck you up and they know it, so that’s what they’re setting out to do. Barking, gnashing intensity set a harsh backdrop for what’s an engaging groove so long as you’re pissed off enough to process it (which you should be; look around), and the rawness of their delivery, the unabashed assault of it, comes through as genuine. Also punishing.
Classic heavy rock and roll forms the core of Paralyzed‘s approach, with guitarist Michael Binder‘s low, gravelly vocals reminiscent of Jim Morrison at his least hinged, suited to the blues behind second cut “Railroad” and the subsequent march of “Rosie’s Town” on the band’s third LP, Rumble & Roar. To say they — that is, Binder, organist/rhythm guitarist Caterina Böhner, bassist Philipp Engelbrecht and drummer Florian Thiele — make it a party across the nine-song/41-minute outing is perhaps understating the case, but if you’d accuse “Heavy Blues” of being too on the nose, you’re missing the fact that on the nose is the point. There’s no irony here, no sneer to the boogie of “White Paper” or the slow organ-laced fluidity of “The Witch,” just heavy vibes and reaffirmation of the band’s growth as songwriters. I’m not even sure where one would start complaining about such a thing.
Delivered as their label-debut for Magnetic Eye Records, the 10-song/40-minute Bear is the fourth full-length from Nashville two-piece Friendship Commanders, with guitarist/vocalist Buick Audra and drummer/bassist/synthesist Jerry Roe having recorded with Kurt Ballou in addition to doing some at home for an affect accordingly tight in craft and heavy in impact. “Melt” pushes toward a ’90s-style reimagining of heavy rock as both commercially viable and empowering, while “X” pairs its tonal crunch with the keyboardy reach of its midsection, poppish but still heavy even unto the snare hits. Pop becomes another tool in their arsenal, whether it’s the layered ascent and push of “New” or the weighted culmination presented with closer “Dead and Discarded Girls,” and the band don’t seem to shy away from being able to compose at the level they are. At the same time, “Dripping Silver” feels fully cognizant of the radness in the riff it’s riding, so there’s a balance to it as well. They sound like professionals.
Former Iron Man and, as of recently, former Spiral Grave vocalist “Screaming Mad” Dee Calhoun is pissed. The Maryland-based acoustic metal troubadour sounds resolute on Angry Old Man, and while his past solo work could hardly be said to pull punches, he hits a different level of laying it all out there on “Kill a Motherfucker” late in the procession here. As ever, hollow-bodied-resonance is the foundation throughout, but other elements like the harmonica in “Voodoo Queen” and the tolling bell at the outset of “VVitch (A Chant)” (not really a chant) fill out the reaches when Calhoun‘s powerhouse voice — still his primary instrument, though the guitar work has gotten more complex with time as well — recedes to a softer delivery. But when he belts it out — looking at you, “Rise Up to March” — he can shake the ground, and if you have any prior familiarity with his work, you already know he’s unmistakable in that regard. That remains the case here, even as he positions himself the titular Angry Old Man. Ain’t none of us getting any younger, dude.
The narrative of the band getting together after a few years, enjoying each other’s company as they wrote and recorded Sörmland — named for where in Sweden they were — becomes real with the mellowprog delve of “Honey Trap” more than the shorter leadoff “Video,” as pastoralia takes centerstage with organic melodies and a casual groove. Unsurprisingly if you know Twin Peaks, “Laura Palmer’s Theme” is darker, but the real reference it’s making seems to be to “Moonlight Sonata” as regards the keys, but “Neon Lights” answers back by being in no hurry whatsoever with sweet intertwining guitar lines and a subtle build to later movement. At 11 minutes, the title-track that caps is the longest inclusion, but fair enough since they have to make room for that tenor sax and all. I wouldn’t know from experience, but Sörmland is what I imagine it would sound like to be emotionally regulated, ever, and anytime Automatism want to get together out in the woods or by some fields or a lake or whathaveyou, I hope someone has the presence of mind to hit record.
Posted in Reviews on October 8th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
If you’ve been keeping up, you already know this Quarterly Review goes through next Monday (because screw weekends anyhow) and will top out at 70 releases covered. Today, then, is when we hit the halfway mark en route to that number. Does it matter? Probably not unless you’re the guy on the other side of the laptop writing it, but maybe you just enjoy having the division done for you.
More of a range of styles today than yesterday, which I need to keep this going, so you’ll pardon me while I dig in in the hope that you do the same. Thanks for reading.
Quarterly Review #31-40:
Mountain of Misery, Shades of the Ashes
Somewhat impressively, Mountain of Misery remains the solo-project of Kamil Ziółkowski, who perhaps if he wasn’t also the drummer/vocalist in Spaceslug might’ve put together a full band by now, but seems committed to keeping the band in-house. But it is a band, to be sure. Shades of the Ashes is Ziółkowski‘s third LP under the moniker, and it pushes deeper into a progression distinct from Spaceslug however familiar some of the vocals are, and offers depth of its own, whether that’s tonally in the thickened fuzz of “Follow the Sun” or the way he makes it boogie in “Speed King” (not a cover) while at the same time setting up the lush nod of “From Fall to Rise.” Between “Thornado” at the outset and the eight-minute finale “Blow,” Ziółkowski refines Mountain of Misery‘s sound with a freshness that is metal, grunge, heavy rock and psychedelic all at once, and stronger for that cohesion with his signature mellow vocals over top. It’s kind of surprising at this point he hasn’t been tempted to do it live, but clearly this is working, so I wouldn’t necessarily encourage messing with the process either.
A fresh take on the notion of Southern heavy from Asheville, North Carolina’s Dërro, who put a bit of twang into the post-Alice in Chains harmonies of “Brain Worm” (surely a song for our times) and a bit of emotive soar into “Echo Mountain” in complement to a guitar tone that feels kin to earlier Tool, all while retaining a ‘doing its own thing’ vibe. That is to say, the six-song Halcyon — which is the band’s first outing so far as I know — feels like the credited-as-composers duo of Neal Brewer and Corey Tossas, working with Pat Gerasia on drums, would seem to have come into this debut offering with a firm idea of what they wanted the band to be sound-wise, and unless they’ve secretly been working on it for a decade, the results of that shimmer with intention and feeling alike in the chuggy “Alone” and the drawl-into-power-nod opening title-track. One to watch? Maybe, but way more of a thing to hear now.
The guitar/drum duo of Marco Bianciardi (The Somnambulist, ex-Arte, etc.) and Sara Neidorf (Mellowdeath, Sarattma, ex-Aptera, etc.) apparently recorded their six-track/36-minutes self-titled debut in a day. That implies much of it was done live, though it doesn’t account for the keyboards that show up in “Spectral Swell” and “Countershading,” or the lead layering in “Talking Moonshine,” but it’s not unlikely that after showing up and banging it out they had a little time for overdubs. Fair enough. The pieces are varied and prone to getting weirder toward their respective ends, rooted in doomjazz but groove-conscious just the same, and the garage-y strum in “Gruttling From Outer Space” bends and twists as it goes in a way that surely defines what ‘gruttling’ might be, while “Edge of Forthcoming Rain” hints at more peaceful ideas without giving up its restlessness and “The Cosmonaut’s Secret” turns out to be the shove into its own finish. They close with a saunter in “Talking Moonshine” and that feels as right as anything for a collection that’s so casually eclectic while minimizing the actual elements involved in its making.
Melbourne three-piece VVarp — also stylized all-caps: VVARP — seem to imagine a universe wherein the thickened tones and keyboard flourish of Slomatics meets with more traditionalist doom riffing, but that’s still just half the story as bassist Claudia Sullivan and guitarist/keyboardist John Bollen share lead vocals in harmonized style over the voluminous roll of “Druid Warfare,” the cavernous and lumbering “A Path Through the Veil,” assuring there’s beauty to coincide with all the crush that surrounds. Running 34 minutes and five tracks, Power Held in Stone follows 2020’s First Levitations and is accordingly their second full-length, given ethereal, almost-chanting presence through the vocals on centerpiece “Equinox Portal” where “Iron Cloak” is more resolved to its own heads-down-all-go bombast fueled by drummer Scott McLatchie as the song shoves into the residual keys that carry to the rumble at the outset of 10-minute capper “Stone Silhouette,” likewise gorgeous, immersive and encompassing.
Easily among the best debut albums I’ve heard in 2025 comes this modernized-classic psychedelia outreach from Poland’s Atom Juice, who would seem to have some relation to meloproggers Weedpecker through guitarist/vocalist Bartek Dobry, but who take a different path to get to bright and melodic fruition. The five-piece outfit’s self-titled debut (on Heavy Psych Sounds) runs shortest to longest on each of its component sides, with copious Beatles influence in “Gooboo” (circa ’70) and delves elsewhere into modern space rock (“Dead Hookers”), the most engaging funk-psych I’ve heard since Wight on “Sexi Frogs,” and an identity in the doing conjured through a blend of influences older and new. As closer “Honey” gives a bit of push in its first half, there’s nowhere Atom Juice wind up on the record that they don’t make themselves welcome, and with rare warmth, they give hopeful hints at the shape of heavy psychedelia to come. I haven’t seen a lot of hype for this one. If you’re reading this, don’t skip it.
The 15 tracks of Hooveriii‘s Manhunter have a foundation in garage rock and an according off-the-cuff feel, but at the same time, interludes and exploratory instrumentals like “In the Rain,” “Night Walks in Montreaux,” the spacey title-track and the penultimate organ soundscaper “Awful Planet” assure that nothing actually comes across as haphazard in a way that undercuts the dynamic. “Melody” and “Tin Lips” open in rocking style, while the fuzz grows more fervent in “Westside Pavilion of Dreams” and “Heaven at the Gates” before “Cul-de-Sac” marks the transition to the next phase with the forceful shuffle of “The Fly,” answered a short while later by the heft of “Question.” It goes like this, flowing except where it doesn’t want to, and with the jazzy “Me King” and the aforementioned mellow-vocalized “Awful Planet” for setup, “Stage” reroutes into pastoralism and feels pointedly kind in so doing. Clearly a band for whom genre takes a secondary role to their own craft, and one whose appeal is broader for that.
Fluidity is part of the nature of what Sweden’s Gaupa do, as the Falun-based troupe have established over their two-to-date LPs and other sundry outings. The five-song/35-minute Fyr finds them working with producer Karl Daniel Lidén — which was a very good idea that somebody had — and is billed as a mini-album, which I think is to account for its being only one minute shorter than their most recent LP, 2022’s Myriad (review here). Vocalist Emma Näslund remains a focal point in the songs, but the balance of the mix is malleable as “Heavy Lord” demonstrates, and “Elastic Sheep” finds the entire band aligned around a fullness that one only hopes is emblematic of their third to come. Plus a big ol’ slowdown, and while we’re talking bonuses, the 11-minute live take on “Febersvan” from their first EP is a welcome glimpse at how far they’ve progressed to this point to complement the potential still so obvious in their sound. They’re the kind of band you hope never stop growing.
With multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Paul Holden still at the center of the project — Mathias Dowle is also credited with playing on and co-engineering the album with Holden and Ryan Fallis — Melbourne psych-grunge rockers Foot seem to pick up where they left off with 2022’s You Are Weightless, tapping into a style that’s grounded in terms of structure and committedly straightforward but that still lends a feeling of scope and space to the nine cuts on the 45-minute Copper Feast-issued LP. The fuzz is prevalent, perhaps nowhere more so than “Walking Into Walls All Week,” where “Intensify” is more of a vocal showcase until its later heavy sweep. Holden does a cover of Marcy Playground‘s “Sex and Candy”… for… some reason… and but for that, as one would both expect and hope for the band at this point, they remain a songwriting-based unit, able to present a diversity of ideas and moods without ever making it feel like a departure at all.
Enter Diagram with a ready definition for ‘dug in’ on their second album, Short Circuit Control. The Berlin duo of founder Hákon Aðalsteinsson and Fred Sunesen offer heady listeners a heady listen with nine inclusions that commune with the history of electronics in krautrock while still keeping both a modern and a psychedelic affect. Is that neo-kraut? I honestly don’t know, but cuts like “This is How We Lead Our Lives” transcend their outward poppiness through repetition and exploration, and the abiding lesson seems to be that just because something is dancey doesn’t also mean it can’t be purposefully building an atmosphere — “Close Your Eyes” walks by and waves (not that you can see it with your eyes closed). The single “Dub Boy” answers the New Wave aspects of opener “Breath in Your Fire,” and a ’90s electro finale awaits in “Through the Wall of Sound” for anybody adventurous enough to take it on.
Brookynite heavy progressive rockers The Phantom Eye offer blend across Cymatic Waves‘ four tracks that feels metallic at its root but has grown and redirected to more complex fare. Between the volume trades of “Circuit Rider,” the noise baked into the finish of “Palindrome,” the synth adding drama to “Black Hotel” and the intricate balancing of guitar layers in “Silent Symphony,” the focus is never purely on just being heavy, but ‘heavy,’ as a musical ideal, is a piece of the puzzle here, framing a broad melodic reach and giving shape to the structures underlying. I wouldn’t hazard a guess as to what they might sound like in five years, but as they’re following 2021’s Chromesthesia EP (review here) with this second short release, it’s even more difficult to pin them down as any one thing. This could hardly feel more intentional than it does in the songs. There’s a plan at work here. It’s just starting to pan out.
