German megasludgers Earthbong are set to issue their third album, Church of Bong, Aug. 25 on tape via Evil Noise Recordings, with Black Farm Records vinyl to follow shortly thereafter. The Kiel-based three-piece issued their Proceed as One EP earlier this year, and have been basking in dense, low, 100MG-per-gummy riffing since their first demo in 2018 (review here), plunging deeper into resinous muck with their 2018 debut album, One Earth One Bong, and 2020’s Bong Rites (review here), the abiding idolatry amid all the rumble and semi-caustic noise being directed to the ultra-dug-in heavy likes of Bongzilla and a tonal attack that should remind of Conan, volume begetting volume in duly excessive proportion. Riffs piled on riffs piled on you, that kind of thing.
Church of Bong — perhaps a play on Belgian post-metallers Amenra‘s self-proclaimed ‘church of Ra?’; part of me hopes so — is two tracks and 39 minutes long, which considering the first two records both topped an hour feels like a direct choice of a single LP format. With it, the three-piece of bassist/vocalist Mersel “Selly” Nuhiji, guitarist Claas “Ogo” Ogorek and drummer Tommy Handschick offer the on-theme “Bong Aeterna” (18:59) and “Dies Bongrae” (20:36; video premiering below) as respective A and B sides, putting ars gratia artis to a test against purposefully wretched tectonic largesse. “Smoke weed until you fucking die,” chants the second cut in repetitions as the back half unfolds, answering the destructive lurch of its predecessor with a likeminded swallowing-whole vibe, even if for being so cannabinoid Earthbong don’t forget to make friends with some fungus either. The doom of shroom, perhaps, sneaking its way into the band’s sonic lair, which one imagines as a cavern filled with grow lights, meticulously arranged rows of pointy leaves sticking into the makeshift aisles; no pesticides, no actual sunlight, and life blossoming just the same. Chlorophyll is some magical shit.
And on the walls of that cavern, a lysergic fungus grows that manifests itself fluidly in both “Bong Aeterna” and “Dies Bongrae.” Look. I know there’s a whole league of bands around with ‘bong’ in their name, and for-stoner-by-stoner riff worship isn’t necessarily new, but if you let Earthbong go as a result of prejudice against either, you miss out. Not just on the onslaught. Building off of where they were Bong Rites, Nuhiji, Ogorek and Handschick bring a jammy chemistry to the procession of Church of Bong, resulting in pieces that are laid back even as they seem to be gnashing very large and monstrously sharp teeth. “Bong Aeterna,” after about seven minutes of extreme sludge lumber and death-stench zombie march, uses feedback and downwardly cascading tom hits to shift smoothly and gradually into a bassy exploration that still holds some residual threat — make no mistake, they come back huge after the 12-minute mark — but is much more subdued in its actual form, ambient guitar flourish joining the rhythm section’s steady flow.
If you’ve already been hypnotized or made swollen to the point of numbness by the first section of the song, it would be easy to miss, but that relatively brief jam is a part of the growth that Earthbong have undertaken over the last half-decade. In an aesthetic — they call it ‘bong metal,’ which I guess is fair enough; you could go with ‘bong doom’ to emphasize the riffs, but that’s splitting hairs — that seems to tout willful regression among its tenets in fostering big riffs played loudly, shouted over if possible and glacial in tempo, such divergence is notable, and “Dies Bongrae” follows suit structurally, fading in on biting feedback for its first minute before even thinking about introducing a riff, plunging into an abyss of sludgy nod and periodic bellowing. There are definitely lyrics to “Dies Bongrae” beyond the above-noted “Smoke weed till you fucking die,” but the last time that line is delivered as the song moves past its own 12th minute is especially punishing with an additional layer of shout joining the rasping growl. The turn happens there, and the included jam feels daringly mellow before it builds to layers of psych-tinged guitar shred, comes back screaming and giant-sloths its way to a sensory overload of a finish, feedback, soloing, throatrippers, crash, the whole deal. It’s like Earthbong decided to finish Church of Bong by razing the building, and maybe that’s the right idea.
With monolithic realization, Earthbong stand astride their third record with a sure notion of themselves as a group and a sense of spontaneity if not improvisation that complements the ur-stone doom revelry. The trio performed “Dies Bongrae” (a somewhat shorter version at just under 17 minutes) in January for a livestream event, and you can see the result premiering below. In a word, you would call it ‘heavy.’
Please enjoy:
Earthbong, “Dies Bongrae” video premiere
Earthbong on “Dies Bongrae”:
Dies Bongrae is the second song of our new album Church Of Bong. The title is a bongification of the roman rite requiem dies irae (day of wrath), which is also cited musically in the middle of the song. The message of the song is this: SMOKE WEED UNTIL YOU FUCKING DIE!
The live video is part of a video live session that was recorded on January 14th 2023 in Lübeck as a part of the localconcerts.stream-project.
ONE EARTH ONE BONG
Dies Bongrae is the second song of Earthbong’s new album CHURCH OF BONG that will be out on August 25th 2023 through Black Farm Records and Evil Noise Recordings.
Church Of Bong was written over the course of the past three years. The final form of the album was recorded live at Dickfehler Studio / East Frisia in August 2022 by Hanno Janssen and Johnny Röhl. The cover artwork was once again made by Rino Pelli who is the artist behind all album covers of the band. The album will be released on vinyl through Black Farm Records (France) and tape through Evil Noise Recordings (Norway).
Digital and tape release is set for August 25th 2023. On this day pre-order for the vinyl edition starts, too. Vinyl release of Church Of Bong is scheduled for November 2023.
A repress of their sold-out 2nd album Bong Rites and a vinyl release of their first album One Earth One Bong which was only released on tape so far are both scheduled for November 2023, too. Both albums will be released as double LP through Black Farm Records.
Earthbong is: Mersel (Selly) Nuhiji: bass + vocals Claas (Ogo) Ogorek: guitar Thomas (Tommy) Handschick: drums
Posted in Reviews on January 9th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Welcome to the second week of the Quarterly Review. Last week there were 50 records covered between Monday and Friday, and barring disaster, the same thing will happen this week too. I wish I could say I was caught up after this, but yeah, no. As always, I’m hearing stuff right and left that I wish I’d had the chance to dig into sooner, but as the platitude says, you can only be in so many places at one time. I’m doing my best. If you’ve already heard all this stuff, sorry. Maybe if you keep reading you’ll find a mistake to correct. I’m sure there’s one in there somewhere.
Winter 2023 Quarterly Review #51-60:
Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol, Doom Wop
Powered by eight-string-guitar and bass chug, Austin heavy party rockers Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol offer markedly heavy, Steve Brooks-style weight on “Doom Wop,” the title-track of their second album, and prove themselves catchy through a swath of hooks, be it opener “Heel,” “Chew” or “I’m the Fucking Man,” which, if the finale “Jesus Was an Alien” — perhaps the best, also the only, ‘Jesus doing stuff’ song I’ve heard since Ministry‘s “Jesus Built My Hotrod”; extra kudos to the band for making it about screwing — didn’t let you know the band didn’t take themselves too seriously, and their moniker didn’t even before you hit play, then there you go. Comprised of guitarist Leo Lydon, bassist Aaron Metzdorf and drummer Sean St. Germain, they’re able to tap into that extra-dense tone at will, but their songs build momentum and keep it, not really even being slowed by their own massive feel, as heard on “Chew” or “The Bog” once it kicks in, and the vocals remind a bit of South Africa’s Ruff Majik without quite going that far over the top; I’d also believe it’s pop-punk influence. Since making their debut in 2020 with Burger Babes… From Outer Space!, they’ve stripped down their songwriting approach somewhat, and that tightness works well in emphasizing the ’90s alt rock vibe of “The Room” or the chug-fuzzer “Fly Super Glide.” They had a good amount of hype leading up to the Sept. 2022 release. I’m not without questions, but I can’t argue on the level of craft or the energy of their delivery.
French heavy rock traditionalists DoctoR DooM return following a seven-year drought with A Shadow Called Danger, their late 2022/early 2023 follow-up to 2015’s debut, This Seed We Have Sown (review here). After unveiling the single “What They Are Trying to Sell” (premiered here) as proof-of-life in 2021, the three-piece ’70s-swing their way through eight tracks and 45 minutes of vintage-mindset stylizations, touching on moody Graveyardian blues in “Ride On” and the more uptempo rocker “The Rich and the Poor” while going more directly proto-metallic on galloping opener “Come Back to Yourself and the later “Connected by the Worst.” Organ enhances the sway of the penultimate “In This Town” as part of a side B expansion that starts with tense rhythmic underlayer before the stride of “Hollow” and, because obviously, an epilogue take on Händel‘s “Sarabande” that closes. That’ll happen? In any case, DoctoR DooM — guitarist/vocalist Jean-Laurent Pasquet, guitarist Bertrand Legrand, bassist Sébastien Boutin Blomfield and drummer Michel Marcq — don’t stray too far from their central purpose, even there, and their ability to guide the listener through winding progressions is bolstered by the warmth of their tones and Pasquet‘s sometimes gruff but still melodic vocals, allowing some of the longer tracks like “Come Back to Yourself,” “Hollow” and “In This Town” to explore that entirely imaginary border where ’70s-style heavy rock and classic metal meet and intertwine.
Clearly when you start out with a direct invocation of epic tales like “Gilgamesh (…and Enkidu’s Demise),” you’re going big. Portugal’s Stones of Babylon answer 2019’s Hanging Gardens (review here) with Ishtar Gate, still staying in Babylon as “Annunaki,” “Pazuzu,” the title-track, “The Fall of Ur,” and “Tigris and Euphrates” roll out instrumental embodiment of these historical places, ideas, and myths. There is some Middle Eastern flourish in quieter stretches of guitar in “Anunnaki,” “Pazuzu,” “The Fall of Ur,” etc., but it’s the general largesse of tone, the big riffs that the trio of guitarist Alexandre Mendes, bassist João Medeiros and drummer Pedro Branco foster and roll out one after the other, that give the sense of scale coinciding with their apparent themes. And loud or quiet, big and rolling or softer and more winding, they touch on some of My Sleeping Karma‘s meditative aspects without giving up a harder-hitting edge, so that when Ur falls, the ground seems to be given a due shake, and “Tigris and Euphrates,” as one of the cradles of civilization, caps the record with a fervency that seems reserved specifically for that crescendo. A few samples, including one at the very end, add to the atmosphere, but the band’s heart is in the heavy and that comes through regardless of a given moment’s volume.
Released on Halloween 2022, Alconaut‘s “Slugs” is a six-minute roller single following-up their 2019 debut album, Sand Turns to Tide, and it finds the Corsican trio fuzz-grooving their way through a moderate tempo, easy-to-dig procession that’s not nearly as slime-trail-leaving as its title implies. A stretch building up the start-stop central riff has a subtle edge of funk, but then the pedal clicks on and a fuller tone is revealed, drums still holding the same snare punctuation behind. They ride that stretch out for a reasonably unreasonable amount of measures before shifting toward the verse shortly before two minutes in — classic stoner rock — backing the first vocals with either organ or guitar effects that sound like one (nobody is credited for keys; accept the mystery) and a quick flash of angularity between lines of the chorus are likewise bolstered. They make their way back through the verse and then shift into tense chugging that’s more straight-ahead push than swinging, but still friendly in terms of pace, and after five minutes in, they stop, the guitar pans channels in re-establishing the riff, and they finish it big before just a flash of feedback cuts to silence. Way more rock and way less sludge than either their moniker or the song’s title implies, their style nonetheless hints toward emergent dynamic in its tonal changes even as the guitar sets forth its own hooks.
Instrumental save for the liberally distributed samples from Planet of the Apes, including Charlton Heston’s naming of Nova in “Nova” presented as a kind of semi-organic alt-techno with winding psychedelic guitar over a programmed beat, Maybe Human‘s Ape Law is the second long-player from the Los Angeles-based probably-solo outfit, and it arrives as part of a glut of releases — singles, EPs, one prior album — issued over the last two years or so. The 47-minute 10-songer makes its point in the opening title-track, and uses dialogue from the Apes franchise — nothing from the reboots, and fair enough — to fill out pieces that vary in their overarching impression from the heavy prog of “Bright Eyes” and the closing “The Killer Ape Theory” to the experimentalist psych of “Heresy.” If you’re looking to be damned to hell by the aforementioned Heston, check out “The Forbidden Zone,” but Ape Law seems to be on its most solid footing — not always where it wants to be, mind you — in a more metal-leaning guitar-led stretch like that in the second half of “Infinite Regression” where the guitar solo takes the forward role over a bed that seems to have been made just for it. The intent here is more to explore and the sound is rawer than Maybe Human‘s self-applied post-rock or pop tags might necessarily imply, but the deeper you go there more there is to hear. Unless you hate those movies, in which case you might want to try something else.
Beginning with its longest track (immediate points) in the nine-minute “Rust and Rot,” the third full-length from Vancouver’s Heron, Empires of Ash, offers significant abrasive sludge heft from its lurching outset, and continues to sound slow even in the comparatively furious “Hungry Ghosts,” vocalist/noisemaker Jamie having a rasp to his screams that calls to mind Yatra over the dense-if-spacious riffing of Ross and Scott and Bina‘s fluid drumming. Ambient sections and buildups like that in centerpiece “Hauntology” allow some measure of respite from all the gnashing elsewhere, assuring there’s more to the four-piece than apparently-sans-bass-but-still-plenty-heavy caustic sludge metal, but in their nastiest moments they readily veer into territory commonly considered extreme, and the pairing of screams and backing growls over the brooding but mellower progression on closer “With Dead Eyes” is almost post-hardcore in its melding aggression with atmosphere. Still, it is inevitably the bite that defines it, and Heron‘s collective teeth are razor-sharp whether put to speedier or more methodical use, and the contrast in their sound, the either/or nature, is blurred somewhat by their willingness to do more than slaughter. This being their third album and my first exposure to them, I’m late to the party, but fine. Empires of Ash is perfectly willing to brutalize newcomers too, and the only barrier to entry is your own threshold for pain.
A reissue of their 2020 second LP, My Octopus Mind‘s Faulty at Source (Bonus Edition) adds two tracks — “Here My Rawr,” also released as a single, and “No Way Outta Here Alive” — for a CD release. Whichever edition one chooses to take on, the range of the Bristol-based psych trio of guitarist/vocalist/pianist Liam O’Connell, bassist Isaac Ellis and drummer Oliver Cocup (the latter two also credited with “rawrs,” which one assumes means backing vocals) is presented with all due absurdity but a strongly progressive presence, so that while “The Greatest Escape” works in its violin and viola guest appearances from Rebecca Shelley and Rowan Elliot as one of several tracks to do the same, the feeling isn’t superfluous where it otherwise might be. Traditional notions of aural heft come and go — the riffier and delightfully bass-fuzzed “No Way Outta Here Alive” has plenty — while “Buy My Book” and the later “Hindenburg” envision psychedelic noise rock and “Wandering Eye” (with Shelley on duet vocals as well) adds mathy quirk to the proceedings, making them that march harder to classify, that much more on-point as regards the apparent mission of the band, and that much more satisfying a listen. If you’re willing to get weird, My Octopus Mind are already there. For at least over two years now, it would seem.
Having become a duo since their debut, 2019’s Lux in Morte (review here), was released, Et Mors are no less dirgey or misery-laden across Lifeless Grey for halving their lineup. Wretched, sometimes melodic and almost universally deathly doom gruels out across the three extended originals following the shorter intro “Drastic Side Effects” — that’s the near-goth plod of “The Coffin of Regrets” (9:45), “Tritsch” (16:13), which surprises by growing into an atmosludge take on The Doors at their most minimalist and spacious before its own consumption resumes, and “Old Wizard of Odd” (10:29), which revels in extremity before its noisy finish and is the ‘heaviest’ inclusion for that — and a concluding cover of Bonnie “Prince” Billy‘s “I See a Darkness,” the title embodied in the open space within the sound of the song itself while showcasing a soulful clean vocal style that feels like an emerging distinguishing factor in the band’s sound. That is, a point of growth that will continue to grow and make them a stronger, more diverse band as it already does in their material here. I’d be interested to hear guitarist/vocalist Zakir Suleri and drummer/vocalist Albert Alisaug with an expansive production able to lean more into the emotive aspects of their songwriting, but as it is on Lifeless Grey, their sound is contrastingly vital despite the mostly crawling tempos and the unifying rawness of the aural setting in which these songs take place.
Future Mirror is The Atomic Bomb Audition‘s first release since 2014 and their first studio album since 2011’s Roots into the See (review here), the returning Oakland-based four-piece of guitarist/vocalist Alee Karin, bassist/vocalist Jason Hoopes, drummer Brian Gleeson and synthesist/engineer The Norman Conquest reigniting their take on pop-informed heavy, sometimes leaning toward post-rock float, sometimes offering a driving hook like in “Night Vision,” sometimes alternating between spacious and crushing as on “Haunted Houses,” which is as much Type O Negative and Katatonia darkness as the opener “Render” was blinding with its sweet falsetto melodies and crashing grandeur. Two interludes, “WNGTIROTSCHDB” and “…Spells” surround “Golden States, Pt. 1” — note there is no second part here — a brief-at-three-minutes-but-multi-movement instrumental, and the linear effect in hearing the album as whole is to create an ambient space between the three earlier shorter tracks and the two longer ones at the finish, and where “Dream Flood” might otherwise be a bridge between the two, the listening experience is only enhanced for the flourish. Future Mirror won’t be for everybody, as its nuance makes it harder to categorize and they wouldn’t be the first to suffer perils of the ‘band in-between,’ but by the time they get the payoff of closer “More Light,” tying the heft and melody together, The Atomic Bomb Audition have provided enough context to make their own kind of sense. Thus, a win.
Maharaja‘s new EP, Aviarium (on Seeing Red), might be post-metal if one were to distill that microgenre away from its ultra-cerebral self-indulgence and keep only the parts of it most crushing. The downer perspective of the Ohio trio — guitarist Angus Burkhart, bassist Eric Bluebaum, drummer Zack Mangold, all of whom add vocals, as demonstrated in the shouty-then-noisy-then-both second track — is confirmed in the use of the suffix ‘-less’ in each of the four songs on the 24-minute outing, from opener “Hopeless” through “Soulless,” into the shorter, faster and more percussively intense “Lifeless” and at last arriving in the open with the engrossing roll of 10-minute finisher “Ballad of the Flightless Bird,” which makes a home for itself in more stoner-metal riffing and cleaner vocals but maintains the poise of execution that even the many and righteous drum fills of “Hopeless” couldn’t shake loose. It is not an easy or a smooth listen, but neither is it meant to be, and the ambience that comes out of the raw weight of Maharaja‘s tones as well as their subtle variation in style should be enough to bring on board those who’d dare take it on in the first place. Can be mean, but isn’t universally one thing or the other, and as a sampler of Maharaja‘s work it’s got me wanting to dig back to their 2017 Kali Yuga and find out what I missed.
July 21 has been set as the release date for the Black Farm Records vinyl remaster of the 2001 self-titled debut from New York’s Begotten. The Brooklyn-and-now-not-just-Brooklyn-based trio have been active again for a few years now — their 2018 Demo EP (review here) offered crunch-riff delights beyond proof of life, and they followed with an EP last year — and Begotten has been waiting for its LP issue for at least the last 12 months, as the label announced intentions toward having it out in July 2021. That is a significant delay and nothing if not emblematic of the times.
Perhaps all the more appropriate, then, that the band should have a new video up for “Judges” from the record, which takes a classically-metallic harsh view of current realities: climate change, wildfires, the planet dying under our feet and largely by our own collective hand. From its initial Sabbathian lurch to the more shuffling finish, it’s a representation of the doom-for-doomers mentality of the group, and it’s hard to ignore either the relevance of the lyrics more than two decades later — yup, shit still sucks, maybe even more, considering Begotten‘s original July 2001 release puts it before the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks on New York and the 20 years of war, fire, flood, plague and political decay that have followed — or the fact that if you sat “Judges” alongside much of the current heavy underground sphere, which they’re basically doing with the vinyl reissue, it fits. Primitive times call for primitive riffs. Begotten wield theirs with due judgment.
Near as I can tell, the Roger Lian remaster of the album featured here is the one the band previously had streaming on their Bandcamp (player at the bottom of this post; if I’m wrong on that I’ll correct as need be), but in any case, doom is doom and this is doom, so doom on, doomers. Oh, did I mention Begotten were a sludge band? Ha.
I’m not generally one for issuing direct challenges to bands and I won’t here either, but I’d love to hear what Begotten could come up with for a brand new full-length.
Enjoy “Judges” and consider the possibilities. Further word on the reissue follows, courtesy of Black Farm:
Begotten, “Judges” official video
Greetings from the Farm!
Remember when we announced the reissue of Begotten’s debut album in July?
Well, the test pressing has been play tested and approved!
The whole reissue process has taken a little more time than expected, but everything is turning up super nicely.
Roger Lian (Slayer, Pantera, …) handled the vinyl remaster and rearranged track order to suit the vinyl specifications, and it sounds that huge!
Scott “Wino” Weinrich has been kind enough to pen a few words in the liner notes for this 20th anniversary reissue, and the very first time on vinyl!
Begotten’s debut is the last ever release Man’s Ruin records put out in 2000, and it’s such an honour to finally give this piece of history the vinyl treatment it has deserved for 20+ years.
No doubt you will love this new presentation of Begotten’s Doom landmark.
More news to come as soon as we can confirm exact release date.
Posted in Questionnaire on March 10th, 2022 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: Marcos Resende of Pesta
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
I see myself as a person who, in addition to being a musician, likes to be involved in the whole chain that involves my music, this has a bit of Underground culture that makes you have to create other skills to bring your music to your audience. This involves playing guitar, producing shows, making music videos, anyway… I realized that I just wanted to insert myself more and more in all issues related to my music.
Describe your first musical memory.
I don’t know exactly what was the first thing I heard that caught my attention, I grew up in a house with a lot of music, since my parents listened to“Samba, which is a very popular Brazilian music (now a little less) like “Cartola” and “Jorge Ben Jor” and my sister listening to a lot of ’80s pop music… and all that music always caught my attention somehow… Rock and Metal came after that… I discovered Queen’s A Night at the Opera at the beginning of my teenage years, and at that time I didn’t know much about it! But I was sure at that time that I needed an electric guitar, there was no other way! and at the same year I got one by trading an old acoustic guitar I had and a few more things, at that time I was consuming everything I could find, from punk to death metal.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
Among many memorable moments it’s hard to choose one as the apex, but I think when I bought my first “real” guitar, it was something so great to me that I couldn’t believe I had done it! Well, this has a context, as you may have already noticed I’m from Brazil, and things here are not easy, but I don’t want this to sound like a complaint because I have a good structure, it’s just a fact, going back to context… when I finally thought I could buy a real guitar the prices were pretty absurd in here, and the Chinese forgeries took over, and that made everything more complicated to get any guitar of those consolidated brands like Gibson, Fender, Gretsch, Epiphone…
So an opportunity came to do a job in Europe, and I decided to extend this trip a little and pass a few weeks in London, at the end of that trip I found a used Gibson Les Paul in a window at Macari’s Guitar Shop at Camden Town, all my money ran out at that moment but I was already at the end of the trip and couldn’t be happier to have no money. I came back with this guitar on my back and all Pesta’s records were recorded with this guitar, this memory remains incredible in my memory.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
I think we are all being tested all the time, with conflicts between professional and artistic life… Family conflicts, political conflicts… But I think in my teenage years, I saw my family becoming a very religious family, and at the time I didn’t exactly understand why, but in that time that seemed to be my way too, I wanted to understand what was happening with them, after all they are my family, but a while went by and I saw that it was not for me, and this rupture/separation was a little disturbed, but very important to move forward, today I see that my belief is outside of any religious or institutional role, I do not believe in that and intend to continue that way.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
For most artists one thing is certain, it will not lead to success and media fame as we grew up seeing, this is a fact. But for all people who are firmly in the art somehow, they have a possible aspiration to get recognition, most of the time it will come from a niche or a community, some will break this barrier and reach people outside this niche, and to me what matters most in artistic growth is not the size that the artist will be at some point from now, but if his art is growing and being recognized, and this recognition is not the cover of Rolling Stone, it can come from any corner, from any site, blog, from friends or fans, even if they are a few, but this crescent role gives you a consistency to continue and target new things, audiences, etc.
How do you define success?
Well, while my art is growing I understand this as a success, while people are sending us messages saying that our music is marking his moment in life, so I understand it as success, we have to keep putting our goals, some of them is more reachable, others more challenging… But for every goal, where do we succeed, like get our album released in a vinyl version, doing a big show or a tour, I understand it as success.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
I wish I didn’t need to see the stupid president we have in Brazil today… Well, the list of “disgusts” is huge, but this is the top of the moment.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
Right now, I want to keep recording albums with Pesta, it’s been a good journey with these guys and we are finally releasing the version we made of Nightmare song by Sarcófago’s on streaming platforms, after some agreements with Cogumelo Records which is the rights holder, we will release a music video of this song as well and we are excited! But I still want to explore some psychedelic things with Brazilian rhythms because it’s something that is culturally important to me, and it’s part of my experience here somehow… And finish a personal project called Necropolis Ascends, which is a project of mine with a great friend from Greece, we’re in the final stages of recording our first EP and we’re pretty excited about the Trip Gothic Doom madness we’re creating.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
For me to take people away from the tyranny of everyday life, from this reality that is at the same time chaotic and trapped, plastered with rules and duties… The Freedom that art brings is liberating for those who are aware of it, and this liberation is a fuel incredible powerful for a less ordinary life.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
Absolutely everything I think as aspiration that I want to do involves music somehow, but maybe the “less” musical of my projects is slowing down from Technology (which is my main occupation) and opening a Pub, this project has already been about to happen a few times but I’ve always bumped into time, but at some point I want to put this dream into practice, it won’t be exactly a place to play just what I like, because in this case I would go broke (lol), but a small place that allow pocket shows and be intimate enough to go with your friends, get drunk and listen to good music! I know we already have this type of option around here, but there’s still room for more!
Posted in Whathaveyou on January 26th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
I’m kind of on the fence about these guys. On the one hand, Melbourne’s Dr. Colossus are pretty straight-up novelty — a heavy rock band with songs about The Simpsons. And hey, I’m a dude of a certain age who remembers when that show was at its best and it seemed like it was a filter through which to understand not only one’s own dysfunctional family dynamic, but the world around it, but there’s a part of me that feels like a band playing off The Simpsons as a theme is almost too on-the-nose. Like, yes, obviously. Someone had to do it eventually. Inevitable.
At the same time, Dr. Colossus‘ wildly referential 2021 outing, I’m a Stupid Moron With an Ugly Face and a Big Butt and My Butt Smells and I Like to Kiss My Own Butt, is a really good record. It of course got a lot of hype last year because it was fun and everybody’s miserable, but it’s impeccably put together, the songs are tight, performances sharp, production right on. By all accounts, a killer album. Certainly deserves a vinyl pressing provided you can fit the title on the cover.
Is it me? Am I anti-fun? Probably. I feel like I’m missing the party and like my inability to get on board is less about what they’re doing than my own joyless experience of the universe. To put it in Simpsons terms, I’m like a broke version of Mr. Burns, still trying to block out the sun.
A vinyl release date for the album is still TBD, but here’s the signing announcement:
Greetings from the Farm!
So stoked and honoured to announce that Melbourne’s Simpsons-themed Doom Metal band (and Victoria’s best heavy act award winning band) Dr. Colossus has joined the Black Farm records roster!
Get psyched, as our collaboration will see the vinyl reissue of their long sold-out second album “I’m a Stupid Moron With an Ugly Face and a Big Butt and My Butt Smells and I Like to Kiss My Own Butt”.
Posted in Whathaveyou on July 21st, 2021 by JJ Koczan
As the PR wire notes right off the bat, today’s the 20th anniversary of Begotten‘s self-titled debut, which has the distinction of having been the final release through Frank Kozik‘s now-legendary, genre-defining Man’s Ruin Records imprint. July 21, 2001. Guess what? The whole world was about to go to shit. Still on its way down. The fucking ocean caught fire last month. People barely blinked.
So anyway, cool for the New York sludgecrunchers that they’ve linked arms with Black Farm Records to give the album a proper vinyl reissue. I’ve no doubt it’ll be rad. What I’m a little hurt by, though, is that Begotten put out a new two-songer in March and no one even told me. You mean you’ve got 17 minutes of new heavy nod and I’m just sitting around typing away writing about 110 releases that aren’t that over the last couple weeks? Hardly seems fair. Last I heard from them was their 2018 demo (review here). Clearly I need to get caught up.
So yeah, right on with the reissue, but I’m gonna dig into the new stuff too. Both, as it happens, are streaming at the bottom of this post:
BEGOTTEN was Man’s Ruin last release 20 years ago today
Begotten celebrate the 20th Anniversary of their Man’s Ruin debut and announce the limited edition vinyl of the album on Black Farm Records.
Notoriously BEGOTTEN became the last band to release a record on legendary stoner/doom label Man’s Ruin two decades ago today. Now Black Farm Records announces the 20th Anniversary Limited Edition Vinyl of the band’s self-titled release. The label, based in northern France, specializes in high quality collectible vinyl releases.
New York City in the late nineties was all about hardcore, punk and fast rock. Playing doom and stoner rock was an act of rebellion. The original self-titled Begotten album was recorded analog reel to reel and came out with Man’s Ruin’s dying breath. This was shortly before the World Trade Center went crashing down – which among all the other horrors also brought Begotten and many other NYC bands to a crashing halt. The demise of Man’s Ruin Records was as harsh a blow to the music scene, as the fall of the towers were to the City.
Two decades later, the 20th anniversary limited edition vinyl emerges just as a global plague begins to dissipate in the U.S. The meaning behind songs like “Electric Hell,” “Judges,” “Garabed’s Freedom,” resonates perhaps more than ever now. What can be heard on the album is the music of three people who have remained loyal to each other, loyal to the spirit of the music, and loyal to themselves. The album has been remastered for vinyl by Roger Lian (of Slayer fame) – the same guy who mastered it the first time for CD from the reel to reel mixes.
Begotten is Matthew Anselmo on Guitar, vox, (and synth on “Narkotizer”); Rob Sefcik on drums; Amanda Topaz on bass, vox (and bullwhip on “Garabed’s Freedom”).
This will be a two-week Quarterly Review. That means this Monday to Friday and next Monday to Friday, 10 releases per day, totaling 100 by the time it’s done.
Me? I’m taking it one week, one day, one album at a time. It’s the only way to go and not have it seem completely insurmountable. But we’ll get through it all. I started out with the usual five days, and then I went to seven, then eight, and at that point I felt like I had a pretty good idea where things were headed. The last two days I filled up just at the end of last week. Some of it is I think a result of quarantine productivity, but there’s a glut of relevant stuff out now and some of it I’m catching up on, true, but some of it isn’t out yet either, so it’s a balance as ever. I keep telling myself I’m done with 2020 releases, but there’s one in here today. You know how it goes.
And since you do, I won’t delay further. Thanks in advance for reading if you do.
Quarterly Review #1-10:
Carlton Melton, Night Pillers
Rangey mellow psych collected together with the natural shimmer of a Phil Manley (Trans Am) recording and a John McBain master, the new mini-LP from Mendocino medicine makers Carlton Melton is a 31-minute, five-song meditative joy. To wit, “Safe Place?” Is. “Morning Warmth?” Is, even with the foreboding march of drums behind it. And “Striatum,” which closes with interplay of keys and fuzzy leads and effects, giving a culminating seven-minute wash that doesn’t feel like it’s pushing far out so much as already gone upon arrival, indeed seems like a reward for any head or brain that’s managed to make it so far. Opener “Resemblance” brings four minutes of gentle drone to set the mood ahead of “Morning Warmth” — it might be sunrise, if we’re thinking of it that way — and centerpiece “High Noon Thirty” bridges krauty electronic beats and organic ceremony that feels both familiar and like the band’s own. They may pill at night, but Carlton Melton have a hell of a day here.
Weaving in and around genres with fluidity that’s tied together through dark industrial foundations, Crown are as much black metal as they are post-heavy, cinematic or danceable. “Gallow” or the earlier “Neverland” call to mind mid-period, electronica-fascinated Katatonia, but “Extinction” pairs this with a more experimental feel, opening in its midsection to more unsettling spaces ahead of the dance-ready finish. There’s nothing cartoonish or vamp about The End of All Things, which is the French outfit’s fourth album in 10 years, and it’s as likely to embrace pop (closer “Utopia”) as extremity (“Firebearer” just before), grim atmospherics (“Nails”) or textured acoustics (“Fleuve”), feeling remarkably unconcerned with genre across its 45 entrancing minutes, and remarkably even in its approach for a sound that’s still so varied. It’s not an easy listen front to back, but the challenge feels intentional and is emotional as much as cerebral in the craft and performance.
Swedish duo Noêta offer their second record for Prophecy Productions in Elm, comprising a deceptively efficient eight songs and 38 minutes that work in atmospheres of darker but not grim or cultish folk. Vocalist Êlea is very much a focal point in terms of performance, with Andris‘ instrumentals forming a backdrop that’s mournful on “Above and Below” while shimmering enough to bring affirmation to “As We Are Gone” a short while later ahead of the electrified layering in “Elm” and the particularly haunted-feeling closer “Elm II.” “As I Fall Silent” is a singularly spacious moment, but not the only one, as “Fade” complements with strings and outward-sounding guitar, and some of Elm‘s most affecting moments are its quietest stretches, as “Dawn Falls” proves at the outset and the whispers of “Elm” reaffirm on side B. Subdued but not lacking complexity, Noêta‘s songs make an instrument of mood itself and are pointedly graceful in doing so.
Unostentatious, which is presumably not to say “humble,” may or may not be Polymerase‘s debut release, but it follows on from several years of inactivity on the part of the Philippines-based mostly-instrumentalist heavy psych trio. The band present four duly engaging and somewhat raw feeling jams, with a jump in volume as “Lightbringer//Lightgiver” picks up from “A Night with a Succubus” and opener “The Traveler” and a final touch of thickened, fuzzy sludge in the rolling “Green is the Color of Evil,” which closes at a lurch that comes across at significant remove from the title-hinted brightness of the song just before it. Uneven? Maybe, but not egregiously so, and if Polymerase are looking to give listeners an impression of their having a multifaceted sound, they most assuredly do. My question is over what span of time these tracks were recorded and what the group will do in moving forward from them, but I take the fact that I’m curious to find out at all as a positive sign of having interest piqued. Will hope for more.
Lucid indeed. The band’s self-applied genre tag of “adult AOR” is more efficient a descriptor of their sound than anything I might come up with. Glasgow’s Lucid Sins released their acclaimed debut, Occultation, in 2014, and Cursed! is the exclamatory seven-years-later follow-up, bringing together classic progressive rock and modern cult heavy sensibilities with a focus on songwriting that’s the undercurrent from “Joker’s Dance” onward and which, as deep as “The Serpentine Path” or the title-track or “The Forest” might go, is never forgotten. To wit, the penultimate “By Your Hand” is a proto-everything highlight, stomping compared to the organ-prog “Sun and the Moon” earlier, but ultimately just as melodic and of enviable tonal warmth. Seven years is a long time between records, and maybe this material just took that long to put together, I don’t know, but I had no idea “cult xylophone” was a possibility until “The Devil’s Sign” came along, and now I’m not sure how I ever lived without it.
Australia’s history in heavy rock and roll is as long as that of heavy rock and roll itself and need not be recounted here, except to say that Hekate, from Canberra and Sydney, draw from multiple eras of it with their debut long-player, Sermons to the Black Owl, pushing ’70s boogie over the top with solos on “Carpathian Eagle” only after “Winter Void” and “Child of Black Magick” have seen the double-guitar-and-let’s-use-both four-piece update nascent doom vibes and “Burning Mask” has brought a more severe chug to the increasingly intense procession. A full production sound refuses to let the quick eight-tracker be anything other than modern, and though it’s only 28 minutes long, the aptly-titled “Acoustic Outro” feels earned atmospherically, even down to the early-feeling cold finish of “Cassowary Dreaming.” The balance may be then, then, then, and now, but the sense of shove that Hekate foster in their songs gives fresh urgency to the tenets of genre they seem to have adopted at will.
One does not evoke elephantine images on a heavy record, even on a debut release, if aural largesse isn’t a factor. New Hampshire trio Abel Blood — guitarist/vocalist Adam Joslyn, bassist Ben Cook, drummer Jim DeLuca — are raw in sound on their first EP, Keeping Pace with the Elephants, but the impact with which they land “The Day that Moby Died” at the outset is only encouraging, and to be sure, it’s not the thickest of their wares either. “Enemies” already pushes further, and as centerpiece “UnKnown Variant” would seem to date the effort in advance, it also serves the vital function of moving the EP in a different, more jangly, grungier direction, which is a valuable move with the title cut following behind, its massive cymbals and distorted wash building to a head in time for the nine-minute finale “Fire on the Hillside” to draw together both sides of the approach shown throughout into a parabolically structured jam the middle-placed surge of which passes quickly enough to leave the listener unsure whether it ever happened. They’re messing with you. Dig that.
Begun in 2011 by guitarist/vocalist Stanislav Govorukha and based in Sweden by way of Poland and the Ukraine, death-doom lurchbringers Suffer Yourself are not strangers to longer-form material, but to my knowledge, “Spit in the Chasm” — the opening and longest track (immediate points) on their third record, Rip Tide — is the first time they’ve crossed the 20-minute mark. Time well spent, and by that I mean “brutally spent,” whether its the speedier chug that emerges from the willful slog of the extended piece’s first half or the viciously progressive lead work that tops the precise, cold end of the song that brings final ambience. Side B offers two shorter pieces in “Désir de Trépas Maritime (Au Bord de la Mer Je Veux Mourir),” laced with suitably mournful strings and a fair enough maritime sense of gothic drama emphasized by later spoken word and piano, and the brief, mostly-drone “Submerging,” which one assumes is the end of that plotline playing out. The main consumption though is in “Spit in the Chasm,” and the dimensions of that fissure are significant, figuratively and literally.
High order Sabbathian doom rock from my own beloved Garden State, there’s very little chance I’m not going to dig Green Dragon‘s Dead of the Night, and true to type, I do. Presented by the band on limited vinyl after digital release late in 2020, the four-song, 24-minute outing brings guitarist/vocalists Zach Kurland and Ryan Lipynsky (the latter also adding keys and known for his work in Unearthly Trance, etc.), bassist Jennifer Klein and drummer Herbert Wiley to a place so dug into its groove it almost feels inappropriate to think of it as a peak in terms of their work to-date. They go high by going low, then. Fair enough. “Altered States” opens with a rollout of fuzz that miraculously avoids the trap sounding like Electric Wizard, while “Burning Bridges” murks out, “The Sad King” pushes speed a bit will still holding firm to nod and echo alike, and “Book of Shadows” plunges into effects-drenched noise like it was one of the two waterslides at the Maplewood community pool in summertime.
The kind of record that probably won’t be heard by enough people but will inspire visceral loyalty in many of those who encounter it, the self-titled debut from French collaborative outfit Age Total — bringing together members from Endless Floods out of Bordeaux and Rouen’s Greyfell — is a grand and engrossing work that pushes the outer limits of doom and post-metal. Bookending opener “Amure” (14:28) and closer “The Songbird” (16:45) around the experimentalist “Carré” (4:06) and rumbling melodic death-doom of “Metal,” the album harnesses grandiosity and nuance to spare, with each piece feeling independently conceived and enlightening to musician and audience alike. It sounds like the kind of material they didn’t know they were going to come up with until they actually got together — whatever the circumstances of “together” might’ve looked like at the time — and the bridges they build between progressive metal and sheer weight of intention are staggering. However much hype it does or doesn’t have behind it, Age Total‘s Age Total is one of 2021’s best debut albums.
a lysergic fungus grows that manifests itself fluidly in both “Bong Aeterna” and “Dies Bongrae.” Look. I know there’s a whole league of bands around with ‘bong’ in their name, and for-stoner-by-stoner riff worship isn’t necessarily new, but if you let Earthbong go as a result of prejudice against either, you miss out. Not just on the onslaught. Building off of where they were Bong Rites, Nuhiji, Ogorek and Handschick bring a jammy chemistry to the procession of Church of Bong, resulting in pieces that are laid back even as they seem to be gnashing very large and monstrously sharp teeth. “Bong Aeterna,” after about seven minutes of extreme sludge lumber and death-stench zombie march, uses feedback and downwardly cascading tom hits to shift smoothly and gradually into a bassy exploration that still holds some residual threat — make no mistake, they come back huge after the 12-minute mark — but is much more subdued in its actual form, ambient guitar flourish joining the rhythm section’s steady flow.
