Posted in Questionnaire on September 11th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Felix Gebhard of ZAHN
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
In ZAHN I play electric guitar, a craft that was taught to me (unbeknownst to them) by listening to and watching several generations of electric guitarists play numerous styles and genres of music.
More generally – being moved by music made me want to create a bit of it myself.
Describe your first musical memory.
Riding up front in my father’s Volkswagen van, listening to the cassettes he used to play – mostly The Beatles, Johann Sebastian Bach and Ton Steine Scherben.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
Barely being able to play guitar but nonetheless writing songs and recording a 7“ with my first band mere months after its formation was a very intense experience.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
Above-mentioned first band sacking the drummer, then breaking up altogether, then, a few weeks later, surprisingly playing a show with two new people replacing the drummer and myself was a pretty sobering episode.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
As artists progress they – if they’re lucky – discover paths to places hitherto unknown to themselves. Where those places are, or what or why they are, nobody knows beforehand. So I honestly can’t say.
How do you define success?
I am currently extremely stoked about the new album we made with ZAHN. To be able to collectively create something that leaves all three of us scratching our heads in awe thinking: “This really didn’t just come out the way we thought and hoped, it actually turned out even better!“ makes me feel that we were quite successful with this one.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
The flyer to above-mentioned show by above-mentioned first band.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
With ZAHN I would like to get the opportunity to make music for film or theater.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
Art in its best moments can give people subliminal pushes in new directions and make them think about things they hadn’t seen or thought about before without being too striking about it.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
I haven’t had the chance yet to put my canoe in the water this year – I hope to be able to do that before the fall.
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 11th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
The set-up-in-two-cities-and-trade-lineups formula employed by Heavy Psych Sounds across two-dayer fests in San Francisco and Joshua Tree, in Berlin and Dresden, coming soon to New York and Baltimore, works. Granted, that any single night among the four bills is righteous on its own might have something to do with it, but that’s obviously not a detriment. Dresden gets Greenleaf, both cities get Iron Jinn as of this update. It’s not the hugest fest add post ever, but I’ve been looking for an excuse to post again about how great Greenleaf were at SonicBlast (review here), and to post the ‘2 Meter Session’ for which Iron Jinn recently collaborated with Alain Johannes, with whom they also did shows this past weekend in the Netherlands.
So yeah, it’s just two acts, but it’s two good ‘uns. Lineups and links follow as per the PR wire:
HEAVY PSYCH SOUNDS FEST Berlin & Dresden confirm Greenleaf and Iron Jinn for upcoming fall edition; tickets available now!
Heavy Psych Sounds Records announce two more bands to play HEAVY PSYCH SOUNDS FEST Berlin & Dresden this October 27-28th, with Greenleaf co-headlining the Dresden edition and Iron Jinn joining both lineups.
Europe’s cornerstone stoner, doom and psych rock label Heavy Psych Sounds is happy to celebrate the third edition of Heavy Psych Sounds Fest Berlin & Dresden this fall! Taking place simultaneously in both cities over the October 27-28th weekend, the festival will host some of the label’s flagship acts such as Nebula, Duel or Acid Mammoth, alongside pillar bands of the international heavy scene such as Greenleaf, Dopelord or Danava. A celebration of all things fuzz and groovy with thirteen bands across three venues and many goodies to enjoy!
Friday 27 October @ Chemiefabrik: Greenleaf / Duel / Acid Mammoth / Danava / Blackwater Holylight / The Lords of Altamont / Iron Jinn
Saturday 28 October @ Chemiefabrik: Unida / Nebula / Dopelord / Margarita Witch Cult / Giöbia / Hippie Death Cult
Founded and curated by European music label Heavy Psych Sounds Records, HEAVY PSYCH SOUNDS FEST has become a trademark event among heavy and fuzz rock lovers by taking over major European cities from London to Rome, Bruxelles and Paris since its inception in 2015.
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 8th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
German post-hardcore-informed sludgers Kavrila (from Hamburg) and Shovel (from Berlin) will head out on what’s sure to be an onslaught of a 10-date run through Germany, the Netherlands, Belgium, France, maybe-Switzerland, Austria and the Czech Republic. Kavrila‘s most recent LP is 2021’s Mor, but they’ve let it be known that they’ll release a new single at the end of this month called “Surface.” That will be out Sept. 29, which is well ahead of the start of this tour.
Shovel issued their self-titled full-length last year through Italy’s Argonauta Records and have started working on new songs. They’ve been playing shows pretty regularly, and while I don’t know if they’ve got new material ready to go, I do know that a year-old record is still worth supporting, especially when such furies are involved.
Open date in Switzerland; if you can help out, do. There’s a lot that goes into making a DIY run like this happen — easy for me to say as I’m two weeks late putting up the news — and it’s worth supporting one way or the other if you can.
From the PR wire:
KAVRILA & SHOVEL European Tour Okt/Nov 2023 – Here Come The Rats!
The rats are coming! We are thrilled to announce this tour together with our brothers in Shovel and can’t wait to get in the van. Mark your calendars, spread the word and prepare for some serious damage. We would be happy if you would spread the news and we also hope to see you in front of the stage in one or another city.
HERE COME THE RATS! European Tour 2023 27.10. DE Bremen – Zollkantine 28.10. NL Amsterdam – The Cave 29.10. BE Hasselt – De Witte Non 30.10. BE Ghent – Het Landhuis 31.10. FR Amiens – 1001 Bieres 01.11. CH —book us!— 02.11. AT Salzburg – Rockhouse 03.11. CZ Prague – Modra Vopice 04.11. DE Berlin – Urban Spree 05.11. DE Hamburg – Goldener Salon
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 29th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Life takes you strange places. I’m reporting live from a bench at what I grew up calling Hershey Park — it’s now known as “Hersheypark,” if current signage is to be believed — in not-much-else-here Hershey, Pennsylvania. My wife and kid are and have been for long enough for me to set up the entire back end of this post, maybe 25 minutes or so, waiting on line for a rollercoaster called The Comet. Park opened at 11 and is slammed.
We’re here, my little family unit, because it’s the end of summer. The Patient Mrs. starts a new semester teaching this week, The Pecan goes to school for full-day kindergarten Sept. 5, so this is pretty much it for summer. Why we’re here instead of something not two and a half hours from where we live is because about 25 minutes from here, at 2PM, we’re meeting with a dog breeder to see about maybe buying a three-month-old puppy. It’s a shichon, small, doesn’t shed much or make a lot of noise. A non-dog, by some standards. Fine. If it doesn’t immediately bite my kid, we’ll probably get it. This has emotional baggage for me — shocking, I know — but it’s time to get this kid a dog, so even if it’s not this one, we’ll keep looking.
What does any of this have to do with Ripplefest Germany 2023 announcing lineups for Cologne — Köln in German — and Berlin?
Just about nothing, actually, but it’s why I’m distracted from giving you the usual spiel: “here’s a cool fest I’ll never get to see but maybe you will and we can both daydream so here you go,” so at least that’s a connection. And please don’t take my inability to focus as somehow detracting from the work Max Röbel has done in assembling lineups both representative and forward thinking from Ripple and -adjacent acts. If you need more proof of his noble mission to shake heavy rock genre norms, go check out the new Plainride. Also, good for Crystal Spiders doing a bit of travel.
These reportedly are not the only acts that will be announced for these events, but it’s a start. Here’s what the PR wire has to say about it:
RIPPLEFEST GERMANY announces first names for 2023 edition in Berlin and Cologne this fall; tickets on sale now!
The international RIPPLEFEST festival series, organized by renowned California independent label Ripple Music, returns to Germany this fall with two unmissable events! Ripplefest Berlin and Ripplefest Cologne promise a musical experience of the highest caliber for fans of Stoner, Doom, and Heavy Psychedelic Rock.
Ripple Music, a label known for its specialization in heavy rock sounds, aims to promote emerging talents from the international heavy rock underground and bring together fans and bands from all over the globe. Dubbing their own festival series “Ripplefest”, the record label has been organizing showcase events for years, in cities such as Austin, San Francisco, London, Nantes, Stockholm, Cologne and Berlin.
The organizer of both Ripplefests is Max Röbel, frontman of Cologne’s heavy rock band Plainride and Head of A&R Europe for Ripple Music. About curating the festival, he says: “Creating a platform for music beyond the mainstream and being able to showcase it with such international lineups is a matter dear to my heart. These festivals are meant to be both a meeting place and a stepping stone for our acts, which is why I am particularly excited that with Kabbalah, Crystal Spiders, and Daevar, we once more have three bands with exceptionally strong frontwomen, on this year’s lineup.”
❱ MOTHER’S CAKE (DE) Stoner rock ❱ KABBALAH (SP) Occult rock ❱ FIRE DOWN BELOW (BE) Stoner rock ❱ CRYSTAL SPIDERS (USA) Doom rock ❱ APPALOOZA (FR) Heavy tribal rock ❱ CANNABINEROS (DE) Stoner rock ❱ DAEVAR (DE) Stoner doom
Using footage from their time in the studio making their latest album, Pāyān (review here), including a few shots of on-his-way-to-legendary producer Richard Behrens at Big Snuff in the trio’s native Berlin, Germany, Samavayo reveal their latest video for the track “The Mission” taken from the same record. And it’s not just studio footage either. There’s some performance-video-type shots, live shots, studio shots, behind-the-scenes shenanigans shots in idyllic black and white — pour that coffee — and some scenes of Coogans Bluff guitarist Willi Paschen in the second half, who joins founding guitarist/vocalist Behrang Alavi, bassist/vocalist Andreas Voland and drummer/vocalist Stephan Voland in putting the piece over the top.
And it is that, at least in the sense of the band giving everything they have to it. No strangers to working in a variety of styles, Samavayo make a forward charge in “The Mission,” complementing the lyrics about taking down white supremacy with intensity that bleeds through every level of the execution, whether it’s Alavi shouting out the last line of the initial verse before the careening melody of the hook kicks in, or Stephan‘s muscle-clenched hi-hat and snare work giving punkish thrust to the central riff. A midsection break builds into the rolling groove of the bridge, leaving room for the solo from Paschen — you’ll see him in the video; he shows up at 3:37 or thereabouts — which holds through the last rounds of the chorus, crafting a peak for the song that was a highlight of the record from whence it comes.
In addition to playing at “a lake somewhere in Brandburg” this coming Saturday, Samavayo have a slew of live shows and fest appearances slated for the Fall, including Aquamaria, Into the Void and a hometown spot supporting Elder, whose Nick DiSalvo also shows up on Pāyān. Go figure. While we’re on the subject of guests, Tommi Holappa of Dozer/Greenleaf and Stoned Jesus‘ Igor Sydorenko also feature on the record, making it something of a who’s-who of bands I dig to an almost embarrassing degree. Also the European heavy underground.
Should you be up for a refresher, the full album streams near the links at the bottom of this post. The video follows here, with tour dates in blue courtesy of the band.
Next shows: 05.08.2023 A lake somewhere in Brandburg, GER 11.08.2023 Frechen, Trafostation 61 Festival, GER 12.08.2023 Plattenburg, Aquamaria, GER 01.09.2023 Rostock, Doomstone Rostock, GER 02.09.2023 Bad Sulza, Saalepartie, GER 29.09.2023 TBA 30.09.2023 Leeuwarden, Into The Void, NL 10.11.2023 Freiburg im Breisgau, Brocken, GER 11.11.2023 Darmstadt, Tanksgiving Peace Fest, GER 17.11.2023 Erfurt, Bandhaus, GER 18.11.2023 Berlin, Hole44 + Elder + Steak, GER 01.12.2023 TBA 02.12.2023 Hombergshausen (Efze), Goldkehlchen, GER
Samavayo is: Stephan Voland (Drums, Vocals) Andreas Voland (Bass, Vocals) Behrang Alavi (Vocals, Guitar)
Textural heavy post-rock/metal instrumentalists Sidus released their three-song Seismos EP on June 18 through Argonauta Records. For the Berlin-by-way-of-Athens four-piece, it is their second EP behind 2020’s Seasons Reversed and a slew of singles and remixes tossed about their Bandcamp page, the very address of which speaks to their Greek roots while their actual sound is more varied as presented on the new offering. Delivered in three parts, “Stage I: Rupture” (3:09) leads off, followed by “Stage II: Seismic Wave” (6:17), and “Stage III: Seismos” (8:46) closes, each piece shifting fluidly from one to the next if not directly bleeding. Silence has a presence here as well, and the band seem no less at home in minimal spaces than in the precision crush they loose in the second two of these three songs, which, in following the EP’s stated theme based around earthquakes or an earthquake, is when the shaking happens.
Founded at the dawn of this troubled decade by Spyros Olivotos (also bassist for Argonauta-denizen post-metallers Unverkalt), the band land at their first effort with their current lineup with a corresponding sense of departure. Also issued in 2020 as their first single, “Envy” from the debut EP hinted at Eurodoom mournfulness, and even the underlying rush that the title-track of Seasons Reversed seemed to be in has more or less dissipated for Seismos, which executes even its heaviest assault methodically. To mix and master, Sidus worked with Steve Lado at SL Studios, and the drums/percussion were done by Kostas Milonas at Bree Studios in Athens, and that would seem to imply that the guitar, bass, keys, various and were self-recorded.
If that’s true — and it’s entirely possible I’m wrong; I’m human and that shit happens — it would be the first time or at very least one of the few the band hasn’t worked with producer Panagiotis Katsaounis at P.K. Productions in Greece, but the timing on their relocating to Berlin might also be a factor there. But in comparison to what they’ve done in the last couple years, Sidus‘ sound has taken on new dimension with this EP, and one has to allow that a shift in the recording process might be part of why.
One way or the other, Seismos — its theme further applied as a metaphor for panic attacks — is rich in its depth. Quiet at the start of “Stage I: Rupture,” growing metallic in tone for “Stage II: Seismic Wave,” a last chug and guitar howl there signaling the end of chaos inner or outer, and bringing a more atmospheric approach to “Stage III: Seismos” that has aspects of Neurosis circa 2001-’04 — there’s some “Stones From the Sky” in the thickened-riff sweep of the crescendo, and the initial guitar reach reminds of the end of “Burn” — they are very clearly working on a broader trajectory than any one piece of the three might encapsulate, but each cut stands on its own well.
The first is synthy post-rock, evocative and more than a soundscape but also that, with strums of threatening distortion creeping in near the finish. Of course, that’s a preface for the post-metalcore riffing of “Stage II: Seismic Wave,” which it’s easy to imagine both emo and death growl vocals accompanying, maybe together, and which veers into blastbeats with slower keyboard on top for a pre-midsection shove that is as tumultuous as Sidus get, followed by a brief break and rebuild in the second half of the song, its aforementioned chugging resolution coming through as firmly declarative.
And while “Stage III: Seismos” is intended to capture the inward brain-on-fire, chest-tightening tremor that panic becomes when physically manifest, it’s more than aural anxiety, and unfurls itself with complexity drawn from the two songs preceding, whether that’s the ambience of the opener or the more aggressive punch of the centerpiece. “Stage III: Seismos” becomes a fitting culmination for the release in finding a figurative middle between the first and second tracks, and the use of theme throughout demonstrates another way in which Sidus are growing — you know, to go with the lineup, the move from Greece to Germany, the production — as they continue their pursuit of the intangible toward their inevitable debut full-length, when and however they may get there.
Video for “Stage III: Seismos” premieres below. Heads up on suicidal imagery and implications if that’s a trigger for you. Words from the band and more follow from the PR wire.
Please enjoy:
Sidus, “Stage III: Seismos” video premiere
Sidus on “Stage III: Seismos”:
“The calm before the storm. Loss of control. Finally the explosion hits. Experiencing a complete mental and physical breakdown. Everything feels unstable, unsure, impermanent. Time stops and you need to face your worst fears. Panic attack is finally realized. Carrying the scars of this life changing experience as faultlines. However, even if an earthquake has the power to destroy its surroundings, we still find the strength to adapt and evolve, optimizing our survival mechanism.”
Credits: Created by Sidus. Mixed and mastered by Steve Lado at SL Studios, Athens, Greece. Drums and percussion recorded by Kostas Milonas at Bree Studios, Athens, Greece. Album cover designed by Vagelis Petikas (Revolver Design), Athens, Greece. Released via Argonauta Records. Video production by Giuseppe D’Addurno. Acting by Matteo Forni.
‘Seismos’ is a three song concept album about earthquakes. The theme of the songs correlates this explosive phenomenon to the individual fear and shock of a panic attack. The album explores the breathtaking beauty of this natural disaster, while raising awareness about mental health issues. Intense earthquakes create the unsettling feeling of insecurity due to their disastrous characteristics. The three songs are describing the genesis (‘Rupture’), path (‘Seismic Wave’) and expression (‘Seismos’) of the event. In the same way, panic attacks are often described in three stages.
The early stage starts with a mental fog/blur. Shortly after, several body parts are acting out of control while the person feels kind of paralyzed, leading to the final expression, which is the collapse of the entire body (the shivering). Even though an earthquake (or the experience of a panic attack) is an intense event, there is always a calming period of realization afterwards. The last calming moments of the EP is resembling the hopeful sense of security when the control is restored and the event has passed.
Hailing from Athens (based in Berlin), Sidus have carved a reputation for crafting cinematic, instrumental compositions in the same vein as bands like God Is An Astronaut, Russian Circles and The Ocean Collective. The band started out as a one-man project by Spyros Olivotos, which has seen the release of one EP and two singles (‘Seasons Reversed’ November 2020, ‘Pale Dot’ June 2021, and ‘Dark Flames’ December 2021). Their latest single ‘Dark Flames’ has been their most impactful release to date, gaining solid recognition among the genre-seeking audience. The band is currently working on their first debut album and are planning their first live shows.
Welcome back to the Summer 2023 Quarterly Review. I hope you enjoyed the weekend. Today we dig in on the penultimate — somehow my using the word “penultimate” became a running gag for me in Quarterly Reviews; I don’t know how or why, but I think it’s funny — round of 10 albums and tomorrow we’ll close out as we hit the total of 70. Could easily have kept it going through the week, but so it goes. I’ll have more QR in September or October, I’m not sure yet which. It’s a pretty busy Fall.
Today’s a wild mix and that’s what I was hoping for. Let’s go.
Quarterly Review #51-60:
Weite, Assemblage
Founded by bassist Ingwer Boysen (also High Fighter) as an offshoot of the live incarnation of Delving, of which he’s part, Weite release the instrumental Assemblage as a semi-improv-sounding collection of marked progressive fluidity. With Delving and Elder‘s Nick DiSalvo and Mike Risberg in the lineup along with Ben Lubin (Lawns), the story goes that the four-piece got to the studio with nothing/very little, spent a few days writing and recording with the venerable Richard Behrens helming, and Assemblage‘s four component pieces are what came out of it. The album begins with the nine-minutes-each pair of the zazzy-jazzy mover “Neuland,” while “Entzündet” grows somewhat more open, a lead guitar refrain like built around drum-backed drone and keys, swelling in piano-inclusive volume like Crippled Black Phoenix, darker prog shifting into a wash and more freaked-out psych rock. I’m not sure those are real drums on “Rope,” or if they are I’d love to know how the snare was treated, but the song’s a groover just the same, and the 14-minute “Murmuration” is where the styles unite under an umbrella of warm tonality and low key but somehow cordial atmosphere. If these guys want to get together every couple years into perpetuity and bang out a record like this, that’d be fine.
The fourth album from Portland, Oregon’s Mizmor — the solo-project of multi-instrumentalist, songwriter, producer, vocalist, etc.-ist A.L.N. — arrives riding a tsunami of hype and delivers on the band’s long-stated promise of ‘wholly doomed black metal.’ With consuming distortion at its heart from opener/longest track (immediate points) “Only an Expanse” onward, the record recalls the promise of American black metal as looser in its to-tenet conformity than the bulk of Europe’s adherents — of course these are generalizations and I’m no expert — by contrasting it rhythmically with doom, which instead of fully releasing the tension amassed by the scream-topped tremolo riffing just makes it sound more miserable. Doom! “No Place to Arrive” is admirably thick, like noisy YOB on charred ambience, and “Anything But” draws those two sides together in more concise and driving style, vicious and brutal until it cuts in the last minute to quiet minimalism that makes the slam-in crush of 13-minute closer “Acceptance” all the more punishing, with plenty of time left for trades between all-out thrust and grueling plod. Hard to call which side wins the day — and that’s to Mizmor‘s credit, ultimately — but by the end of “Acceptance,” the raging gnash has collapsed into a caldera of harsh sludge, and it no longer matters. In context, that’s a success.
With a couple quick drum taps and a clearheaded strum that invokes the impossible nostalgia of Bruce Springsteen via ’90s alt rock, Netherlands-based The Whims of the Great Magnet strolls casually into “Same New,” the project’s first outing since 2021’s Share My Sun EP. Working in a post-grunge style seems to suit Sander Haagmans, formerly the bassist of Sungrazer and, for a bit, The Machine, as he single-track/double-tracks through the song’s initial verse and blossoms melodically in the chorus, dwelling in an atmosphere sun-coated enough that Haagmans‘ calls it “your new summer soundtrack.” Not arguing, if a one-track soundtrack is a little short. After a second verse/chorus trade, some acoustic weaves in at the end to underscore the laid back feel, and as it moves into the last minute, “Same New” brings back the hook not to drive it into your head — it’s catchy enough that such things aren’t necessary — but to speak to a traditional structure born out of classic rock. It does this organically, with moderate tempo and a warm, engaging spirit that, indeed, evokes the ideal images of the stated season and will no doubt prove comforting even removed from such long, hot and sunny days.
German instrumentalists Sarkh follow their 2020 full-length, Kaskade, with the four-song/31-minute Helios EP, issued through Worst Bassist Records. As with that album, the short-ish offering has a current of progressive metal to coincide with its heavier post-rock affect; “Zyklon” leading off with due charge before the title-track finds stretches of Yawning Man-esque drift, particularly as it builds toward a hard-hitting crescendo in its second half. Chiaroscuro, then. Working shortest to longest in runtime, the procession continues with “Kanagawa” making stark volume trades, growing ferocious but not uncontrolled in its louder moments, the late low end particularly satisfying as it plays off the guitar in the final push, a sudden stop giving 11-minute closer “Cape Wrath” due space to flesh out its middle-ground hypothesis after some initial intensity, the trio of guitarist Ralph Brachtendorf, bassist Falko Schneider and drummer Johannes Dose rearing back to let the EP end with a wash but dropping the payoff with about a minute left to let the guitar finish on its own. Germany, the world, and the universe: none of it is short on instrumental heavy bands, but the purposeful aesthetic mash of Sarkh‘s sound is distinguishing and Helios showcases it well to make the argument.
A 2LP second long-player from mostly-traditionalist doom metallers Spiritual Void, Wayfare seems immediately geared toward surpassing their 2017 debut, White Mountain, in opening with “Beyond the White Mountain.” With a stretch of harsher vocals to go along with the cleaner-sung verses through its 8:48 and the metal-of-eld wail that meets the crescendo before the nodding final verse, they might’ve done it. The subsequent “Die Alone” (11:48) recalls Candlemass and Death without losing the nod of its rhythm, and “Old” (12:33) reaffirms the position, taking Hellhound Records-style methodologies of European trad doom and pulling them across longer-form structures. Following “Dungeon of Nerthus” (10:24) the shorter “Wandering Doom” (5:31) chugs with a swing that feels schooled by Reverend Bizarre, while “Wandersmann” (13:11) tolls a mournful bell at its outset as though to let you know that the warm-up is over and now it’s time to really doom out. So be it. At a little over an hour long, Wayfare is no minor undertaking, but for what they’re doing stylistically, it shouldn’t be. Morose without melodrama, Wayfare sees Spiritual Void continuing to find their niche in doom, and rest assured, it’s on the doomier end. Of doom.
Even when The River make the trade of tossing out the aural weight of doom — the heavy guitar and bass, the expansive largesse, and so on — they keep the underlying structure. The nod. At least mostly. To explain: the long-running UK four-piece — vocalist Jenny Newton, guitarist Christian Leitch (formerly of 40 Watt Sun), bassist Stephen Morrissey and drummer Jason Ludwig — offer a folkish interpretation of doom and a doomed folk on their fourth long-player, the five-song/40-minute A Hollow Full of Hope taking the acoustic prioritizing of a song like “Open” from 2019’s Vessels into White Tides (review here) and bringing it to the stylistic fore on songs like the graceful opener “Fading,” the lightly electric “Tiny Ticking Clocks” rife with strings and gorgeous self-harmonizing from Newton set to an utterly doomed march, or the four-minute instrumental closer “Hollowful,” which is more than an outro if not a completely built song in relation to the preceding pieces. Melodic, flowing, intentional in arrangement, meter, melody. Sad. Beautiful. “Exits” (9:56) and “A Vignette” (10:26) — also the two longest cuts, though not by a ton — are where one finds that heft and the other side of the doom-folk/folk-doom divide, though it is admirable how thin they make that line. Marked progression. This album will take them past their 25th anniversary, and they greet it hitting a stride. That’s an occasion worth celebrating.
Sons of Froglord is the fourth full-length in three years from UK amphibian conceptualist storytellers Froglord, and there’s just about no way they’re not making fun of space rock on “Road Raisin.” “Collapse” grows burly in its hook in the vein of a more rumbling Clutch — and oh, the shenanigans abound! — and there’s a kind of ever-present undercurrent sludgy threat in the more forward push of the glorious anthem to the inanity of career life in “Wednesday” (it doesn’t materialize, but there is a tambourine on “A Swamp of My Own,” so that’s something), but the bulk of the latest chapter in the Froglord tale delivers ’70s-by-way-of-’10s classic heavy blues rock, distinct in its willingness to go elsewhere from and around the boogie swing of “Wizard Gonk” and the fuzzy shuffling foundation of “Garden” at the outset and pull from different eras and subsets of heavy to serve their purposes. “Froglady” is on that beat. On it. And the way “A Swamp of My Own” opens to its chorus is a stirring reminder of the difference drumming can make in elevating a band. After a quick “Closing Ceremony,” they tack on a presumably-not-narrative-related-but-fitting-anyway cover of Creedence Clearwater Revival‘s “Born on the Bayou,” which complements a crash-laced highlight like “The Sage” well and seems to say a bit about where Froglord are coming from as well, i.e., the swamp.
Released digitally with the backing of Abraxas and on CD through Smolder Brains Records, the Cult of Devil Sounds split EP offers two new tracks each from São Paulo, Brazil’s Weedevil and Veraruz, Mexico’s Electric Cult. The former take the A side and fade in on the guitar line “Darkness Inside” with due drama, gradually unfurling the seven-minute doom roller that’s ostensibly working around Electric Wizard-style riffing, but has its own persona in tone, atmosphere and the vocals of Maureen McGee, who makes her first appearance here with the band. The swagger of “Burn It” follows, somewhat speedier and sharper in delivery, with a scorcher solo in its back half, witchy proclamations and satisfying slowdown at the end. Weedevil. All boxes ticked, no question. Check. Electric Cult are rawer in production and revel in that, bringing “Rising From Hell” and “Esoteric Madness” with a more uptempo, rock-ish swing, but moving through sludge and doom by the time the seven minutes of the first of those is done. “Rising From Hell” finishes with ambient guitar, then feedback, which “Esoteric Madness” cuts off to begin with bass; a clever turn. Quickly “Esoteric Madness” grows dark from its outset, pushing into harsh vocals over a slogging march that turns harder-driving with ’70s-via-Church–of–Misery hard-boogie rounding out. That faster finish is a contrast to Weedevil‘s ending slow, and complements it accordingly. An enticing sampler from both.
When I read some article about how the James Webb Space Telescope has looked billions of years into the past chasing down ancient light and seen further toward the creation of the universe than humankind ever before has, I look at some video or other, I should be hearing Dr. Space. I don’t know if the Portugal-based solo artist, synthesist, bandleader, Renaissance man Scott “Dr. Space” Heller (also Øresund Space Collective, Black Moon Circle, etc.) has been in touch with the European Space Agency (ESA) or what their response has been, but even with its organ solo and stated watery purpose, amid sundry pulsations it’s safe to assume the 20-minute title-track “Suite for Orchestra of Marine Mammals” is happening with an orchestra of semi-robot aliens on, indeed, some impossibly distant exoplanet. Heller has long dwelt at the heart of psychedelic improv and the three pieces across the 39 minutes of Suite for Orchestra of Marine Mammals recall classic krautrock ambience while remaining purposefully exploratory. “Going for the Nun” pairs church organ with keyboard before shimmering into proto-techno blips and bloops recalling the Space Age that should’ve had humans on Mars by now, while the relatively brief capper “No Space for Time” — perhaps titled to note the limitations of the vinyl format — still finds room in its six minutes to work in two stages, with introductory chimes shifting toward more kosmiche synth travels yet farther out.
The debut from Santa Fe-based solo drone project Ruiner — aka Zac Hogan, also of Dysphotic, ex-Drought — is admirable in its commitment to itself. Hogan unveils the outfit with The Book of Patience (on Desert Records), an 80-minute, mostly-single-note piece called “Liber Patientiae,” which if you’re up on your Latin, you know is the title of the album as well. With a willfully glacial pace that could just as easily be a parody of the style — there is definitely an element of ‘is this for real?’ in the listening process, but yeah, it seems to be — “Liber Patientiae” evolves over its time, growing noisier as it approaches 55 or so minutes, the distortion growing more fervent over the better part of the final 25, the linear trajectory underscoring the idea that there’s a plan at work all along coinciding with the experimental nature of the work. What that plan might manifest from here is secondary to the “Liber Patientiae” as a meditative experience. On headphones, alone, it becomes an inward journey. In a crowded room, at least at the outset it’s almost a melodic white noise, maybe a little tense, but stretched out and changing but somehow still solid and singular, making the adage that ‘what you put into it is what you get out’ especially true in this case. And as it’s a giant wall of noise, it goes without saying that not everybody will be up for getting on board, but it’s difficult to imagine the opaque nature of the work is news to Hogan, who clearly is searching for resonance on his own wavelength.
Ah, a Quarterly Review Wednesday. Always a special occasion. Monday starts out with a daunting look at the task ahead. Tuesday is all digging in and just not trying to repeat myself too much. Wednesday, traditionally, is where we hit the halfway point. The top of the hill.
Not the case this time since I’ll have 10 records each written up next Monday and Tuesday, but crossing the midpoint of this week alone feels like an accomplishment and you’ll pardon me if I mark it as such. If you’re wondering how the rest of the week will go, tomorrow is all-business and Friday’s usually a party one way or the other. My head gets so in it by the middle of next week I’ll be surprised not to be doing this anymore. So it goes.
Quarterly Review #21-30:
Khanate, To Be Cruel
Who among mortals could hope to capture the horrors of Khanate in simple words? The once-New York-based avant sludge ultragroup end a 14-year hiatus with To Be Cruel, a fourth album, comprising three songs running between 19-21 minutes each that breed superlative hatefulness. At once overwhelming and minimalist, with opener “Like a Poisoned Dog” placing the listener in a homemade basement dungeon with the sharp, disaffection-incarnate bark of Alan Dubin (also Gnaw) cutting through the weighted slog in the guitar of Stephen O’Malley (also SunnO))), et al), the bass of James Plotkin (more than one can count, and he probably also mastered your band’s record) and the noise free-jazz drumming of Tim Wyskida (Blind Idiot God, etc.), they retain the disturbing brilliance last heard from in 2009’s Clean Hands Go Foul (discussed here) and are no less caustic for the intervening years. “It Wants to Fly” is expansive and wretched death poetry set to drone doom, a ritual made of its own misery, and the concluding title-track goes quiet in its midsection as though to let every wrenching anguish have its own space in the song. There is no one like them, though many have tried to convey some of what apparently only Khanate can. As our plague-infested, world-burning, war-making, fear-driven species plunges further into this terrible century, Khanate is the soundtrack we earn. We are all complicit. All guilty.
Though plenty atmospheric besides, Vancouver heavy fuzz rockers Space Queen add atmosphere to their nine-song/26-minute Nebula EP through a series of four interludes: the a capella three-part harmonies of “Deluge,” the acoustic-strummed “Veil” and “Sun Interlude,” and the finishing manipulated space-command sample in “End Transmission” after the richly melodic doom rock of “Transmission/Lost Causemonaut.” That penultimate inclusion is the longest at 6:14 and tells a story in a way that feels informed by the three-piece of drummer/vocalist Karli MacIntosh, guitarist/vocalist Jenna Earle and bassist/keyboardist/vocalist Seah Maister‘s past in the folk outfit Sound of the Sun, but transposes its melodic sensibility into a heavier context. It and the prior garage-psych highlight “When it Gets Light” — a lighter initial electric strum that arrives in willful-seeming contrast to “Darkest Part” immediately preceding — depart from the more straight-ahead push of opener “Battle Cry” and the guitar-screamer “Demon Queen” separated from it by the first interlude. Where those two come across as working with Alice in Chains as a defining influence — something the folk elements don’t necessarily argue against — the Nebula EP grows broader as it moves through its brief course, and flows throughout with its veering into and out of songs and short pieces. This is Space Queen‘s second EP, and if they’re interested in making a full-length next, they sound ready.
Fasano, Italy’s King Potenaz debut on Argonauta Records with Goat Rider, which conjures raw fuzz, garage-doom atmospherics, and vocals that edge toward aggression and classic cave metal, early Venom or Celtic Frost having a role to play even alongside the transposition of Kyuss riffing taking place in the title-track, which follows “Among Ruins” and “Pyramids Planet,” both of which featured on the trio’s 2022 Demo 6:66, and which set a tone of riff-led revelry here with a sound that reminds of turn-of-the-century era stoner explorations, but grows richer as it moves into “Pazuzu (3:33)” — it’s actually 5:18 — with guest vocals from Sabilla and the quiet three-minute instrumental “Cosmic Voyager” planet-caravanning into the 51-minute album’s second half, where “Moriendoom (La Ballata di Ippolita Oderisi)” and the even doomier “Monolithic” dig into cultish vibes and set up the bleak shuffle of nine-minute closer “Dancing Plague,” departing from its central ’90s-heavy riff into a mellow-psych movement and then returning from that outward stretch to end. Even at its most familiar, Goat Rider finds some way to harness an individual edge, cleverly using the mix itself as an instrument to create the space in which the songs dwell. It may take a few listens to sink in, but there’s real potential in what they’re doing.
With the release of their third album, New World Hoarder, German art-sludgers Treedeon celebrate their first decade as a band. The combined vinyl-with-CD follows 2018’s Under the Manchineel (review here) and proffers raw cosmic doom in “Omega Time Bomb,” crossing the 10-minute line for the first time after the particularly-agonized opener “Nutcrème Superspreader” and before the title-track’s nodding riff brings bassist Yvonne Ducksworth to the fore vocally, trading off with guitarist Arne Heesch as drummer Andy Schünemann crashes cyclically behind. “New World Hoarder” gives over to side B opener “Viking Meditation Song,” which rolls like an evil-er version of Goatsnake, and “RHV1,” on which Heesch and Ducksworth share vocal duties, as they also do in 12-minute closer “Läderlappen” — a shouting duet in the first half feels long in arriving, but that’s how you know the album works — as the band cap with more massive chug following an interplay of melody and throatier fare. They’re right to ride that groove, as they’re right about so much else on the record. Like much of what Exile on Mainstream puts out, Treedeon are stylistically intricate and underrated in kind.
There are a couple different angles of approach one might take in hearing Orsak:Oslo‘s In Irons full-length. The Norway/Sweden-based instrumental troupe have been heretofore lumped in with heavy post-rock and ambient soundscaping, which is fair enough, but what they actually unveil in “068 The Swell” (premiered here), is a calming interpretation of space rock. With experimentalism on display in its late atmospheric drone comedown, “068 The Swell” moves directly into the more physical “079 Dutchman’s Wake (Part I),” the languid boogie feeling modern in presentation and classic in construction and the chemistry between the members of the band. The drums sit out much of the first half of “069 In What Way Are You Different,” giving a sense of stillness to the drone there, but the song embraces a bigger feel toward its finish, and that sets up the feedback intro to “078 The Mute (Part II),” which veers dreamily between amplifier drone and complementary melodic guitar flourish. Taking 17 minutes to do it, they close with “074 Hadal Blue,” which more broadly applies the space-chill of “068 The Swell” and emphasizes flow and organic changes from one part to the next. Immersive, it would be one to get lost in if it weren’t so satisfying to pay attention.
Fuck. Yes. As much grind as sludge as electronics-infused hardcore as it is furious, unadulterated noise, the 12-song/50-minute onslaught that is Boss Blades arrives via Modern Grievance at the behest of Jon Weisnewski, also of Sandrider, formerly of Akimbo. If Weisnewski‘s name alone and the fact that Matt Bayles mixed the self-recorded debut LP aren’t enough to pull you into the tornado of violence and maddening brood that opener “Boss Blades” uses to open — extra force provided by one of two guest vocal spots from Dave Verellen of Botch; the other is on “Lasers in the Jungle” later on — then perhaps the seven-minute semi-industrial march of “Obsolete Food” or the bruising intensity of “Poorly Made Pots” or the minute and a half of sample-topped drone psych in “Guitart,” the extreme prog metal of “Eat Meth” or “Manifest Piss Tape” will do the trick, or the nine-minute near-centerpiece “Many Knives” (which, if there’s a Genghis Tron influence here generally — and there might be — is more the last record than the older stuff) with its slow keyboard unfolding as a backdrop for Dust Moth‘s Irene Barber to make her own guest appearance, plenty of post-everything cacophony mounting by the end, grandiose and consuming. I could go on — every track is a new way to die — but suffice it to say that this is what my brain sounds like when my kid and my wife are talking to me about different things at the same time and it feels like my skull is on fire and I have an aneurysm and keel over. Good wins.
Sometimes harsh but always free, 2022’s Chapter 4 from Croatian instrumentalist double-guitar five-piece Mycena — guitarists Marin Mitić and Pavle Bojanić, bassist Karlo Cmrk, drummer Igor Vidaković and synthesist/noisemaker Aleksandar Vrhovec — brings three tracks that are distinct unto themselves but listed as part of the same entirety, dubbed “Dissolution” and divided into “Dissolution Part 1” (17:49), “Dissolution Part 2” (3:03), and “Dissolution Part 3” (18:11), and it may well be that what’s being dissolved is the notion that rock and roll must be confined to verse/chorus structuring. Invariably, Earthless are a comparison point for longform instrumental heavy anything, and given the shred in “Dissolution Part 1” around five minutes deep and the torrent rockblast in the first half of “Dissolution Part 3” before it melts to near-silence and quietly noodles its way through its somehow-dub-informed last 11 or so minutes, building in presence but not actually blowing up to full volume as it caps. While totaling a manageable 39 minutes, Chapter 4 is a journey nonetheless, with a scope that comes through even in “Dissolution Part 2,” which may just be an interlude but still carries a steady rhythm that seems to reorient the band ahead of their diving into the extended final part, the band sounding natural in making changes that would undo acts with less chemistry.
Filthy tone. Just absolutely nasty. Atlanta’s Bog Monkey tracked Hollow, their self-released debut LP, with Jay Matheson at The Jam Room in South Carolina, and if they ever go anywhere else to try to capture their sound I’d have to ask why. With seven cuts totaling 33 minutes play-time and fuzz-sludge blowouts a-plenty in “Facemint,” the blastbeaten “Blister” and the heads-down largesse-minded shove-off-the-cliff that is “Slither” at a whopping 2:48, Hollow transposes Conan-style shouted vocals on brash, thickened heavy, the bass in “Tunnel” and forward-charging leadoff “Crow” with its thrash-riffing hook is the source of the heft, but it’s not alone. Spacious thanks to echoes on the vocals, Hollow crushes just the same, and as the trio plunder toward the eight-minute “Soma” at the end, growing intense quickly out of a calmer intro jam and slamming their message home circa 3:40 with crashes that break to bass and guitar noise to establish the nod around which the ending will be based, all you can really do is look forward to the bludgeoning to come and be glad when it arrives. Don’t be fooled by their generic name, or the silly stoner rock art (which I’m not knocking; it being silly is part of the point). Bog Monkey bring together different styles in a way that’s thoughtful and make songs that sound like they just rose out of the water to fucking obliterate you. So go on. Be obliterated.
Punkish in its choruses like the title-track or opener “Sports,” the four-song Dead Nature EP from South Africa’s The Man Motels is the latest in a string of short releases and singles going back to their 2018 full-length, Quit Looking at Me!, and they temper the urgency of their speediest parts with grunge-style melody and instrumental twists. Bass and drums at the base of “Young Father” set up the sub-three-minute closer as purely punk, but sure enough the guitar kicks in coming out of the verse and one can hear the Nirvana effect before it drops out again. Whether it’s a common older-school hardcore influence, I don’t know, but “Sports” and “Young Father” remind of a rawer Fu Manchu with their focus on structure, but “The Fever” is heavier indie rock and culminates in a tonally satisfying apex before cutting back to the main riff that’s led the way for… oh, about three minutes or so. All told, The Man Motels are done in 15 minutes, but they pack a fair amount into that time and they named the release after its catchiest installment, so there. Maybe not the kind of thing I’d always reach for in my own listening habits, but I’m not about to rag on a band for being good at what they do or showcasing their material with the kind of energy The Man Motels put into Dead Nature.
With a couple short(er) outings to their credit, Bayonne, New Jersey, three-piece Pyre Fyre present seven songs in the 18 minutes of their self-titled, which just might be enough to make it a full-length. Hear me out. They start raw with “Hypnotize,” more of a song than an intro, punkish and the shortest piece at 1:22. From there, the Melvins meet Earthride on “Flood Zone” and the range of shenanigans is unveiled. Produced by drummer/noisemaker Mike Montemarano, with Dylan Wheeler on guitar, Dan Kirwan on bass and vocals from all three in its hithers and yons, it is a barebones sound across the board, but Pyre Fyre give a sense of digging in despite that, with the echo-laced “Wyld Ryde” doled out like garage thrash, while “Dungeon Duster/Ice Storm” sounds like it was recorded in two different sessions and maybe it was and screw you if that matters, “Don’t Drink the Water” hits the brakes and dooms out with stoner-drawl vocals later, “Arachnophobia” dips into a darker, somehow more metal, mood, and the fuzzy “Cordyceps” ends with swagger and noise alike in just under two and a half minutes. All of this is done without pretense, without the band pausing to celebrate themselves or what they just accomplished. They get in, kick ass, get out again. You don’t want to call it an album? Fine. I respectfully disagree, but we can still be friends. What, you thought because it was the internet I was going to tell you to screw off? Come on now.
