Posted in Whathaveyou on August 13th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Already this year, Montreal Dune-themed progressive melodic heavy rockers Sons of Arrakis have hit the West and East Coasts of the US, playing Planet Desert Rock Weekend and (the last) Maryland Doom Fest both, and been to the UK for an appearance at StoomFest. They’ve got festivals as part of this upcoming on-the-continent European run as well, as they’ll hit Into the Void Leeuwarden in the Netherlands and Up in Smoke in Switzerland, both at the behest of Sound of Liberation, which booked the tour.
The ascendant Canucks have been and will be out in support of their 2024 sophomore LP, Volume II (review here), which was released by Black Throne Productions and which, if you’d like a refresher, is streaming in full at the bottom of this post. Yup, under the links. You got the idea.
Interesting to note: it probably isn’t the first time they’ve used it, but this is the first I’ve seen the band self-apply the tag “melange rock.” The word, suitably rooted in French, means a mixture or a somewhat slapdash assortment. As the comments point out, it’s also of course a Dune reference. It’s an okay bit of branding, if not necessarily encompassing or descriptive. It’s a thing they can call themselves, which I imagine answers a fair number of the “what do you call this sound” questions they’ve been receiving. The first two things I think of when I think of them “progressive” and “melodic,” so I went with that. Admittedly, way less catchy.
Dates came from this or that social media:
🌌 UPDATES! SHAI-HÜLÜD ODYSSEY 2025 – EUROPE 🌌
We’re beyond stoked to bring the Melange Rock to Europe this fall! Massive thanks to Sound of Liberation and our label at Black Throne Productions for making this run possible. 🙏🔥
From the Netherlands to Switzerland, with stops in Belgium and Germany, we’re bringing the spice to some of our favorite venues and festivals — see you on the road!
Alright, y’all. This is where it ends. The Quarterly Review has been an absolute blast, an easy, fun, good time to have, but inevitably it must come to close and that’s where we’re at. Last day. Last 10 releases. Thanks if you’ve kept up. I’ll be back I think in September with another one of these, probably longer.
Hope you’ve found something killer this week. I did.
Quarterly Review #41-50:
Katatonia, Nightmares as Extensions of the Waking State
Nightmares as Extensions of the Waking State is the first long-player in the 34-year history of Katatonia — upwards of their 13th album, depending on what you count — to not feature guitarist Anders Nyström. That leaves frontman Jonas Renkse as the remaining founder of the band, with two new guitarists in Nico Elgstrand and Sebastian Svalland, bassist Niklas Sandin and drummer Daniel Moilanen, steering one of heavy music’s most identifiable sounds in new ways. “Wind of No Change” is duly subversive, and “Departure Trails” basks in texture in a way Katatonia have periodically throughout the last 20 years, but the Opethian severity of they keys in “The Light Which I Bleed” and the declarative chug at the end of opener “Thrice” speak to the band’s awareness of the need to occasionally be very, very heavy, even as “Efter Solen” shifts into dark, emotive electronics ahead of the sweeping finale “In the Event Of…” Renkse has never wanted for expression as a singer. If he’s to be the driving force behind Katatonia, fair enough for how that manifests here.
Black Moon Circle, A Million Leagues Beyond: Moskus Sessions Vol. I
Trondheim, Norway’s Black Moon Circle recorded the four-song set of A Million Leagues Beyond: Moskus Sessions Vol. 1 at the hometown venue of Moskus, a small bar that, to hear them tell it, mostly hosts jazz. Fair enough for cosmic heavy psychedelic grunge rock to join the fray, I should think. It was late in 2023, so earlier that year’s Leave the Ghost Behind (review here) full-length features readily, with “Snake Oil” following the opener “Drifting Across the Plains” — which is jazzy enough, certainly — ahead of the chunkier-riffed “Serpent” and a 20-minute take on “Psychedelic Spacelord (Lighter Than Air),” which has become a signature piece for the three-piece, suitably expansive. If you know Black Moon Circle‘s studio albums, you know they do as much as they can live. Honestly, A Million Leagues Beyond: Moskus Sessions Vol. I isn’t all that different, but it’s definitely a performance worth enjoying.
Kudos if you had ‘new Bloodhorse‘ on your 2025 Stoner Rock Bingo card or caught it when they launched an Instagram page last year. I certainly didn’t. The Massachusetts aughts-type prog-leaning riffmakers were last heard from with their 2009 debut album, Horizoner (review here), and the six-song/28-minute A Malign Star serves as a vital return, if not one brimming with good vibes as “The Somnambulist” dream-crushes its four-minute course, the band not so much dwelling in atmospheres like the relatively careening “Shallowness,” but getting into a song, making their point, and getting out. This works to their advantage in opener “Saboteur” and the chuggier title-track that follows, but even six-minute closer “Illumination” retains a sense of immediacy amid the dirty fuzz and comparatively laid back roll. This band was once the shape of sludge to come. 16 years later, the future has taken a different course and everybody’s a little more middle-aged, but Bloodhorse still kind of feel like they’re waiting for the world to catch up.
Should you find yourself thinking you didn’t remember Canadian riffers Aawks — also stylized all-caps: AAWKS — having quite such a nasty streak, you’re not alone. Their 2022 debut, Heavy on the Cosmic (review here), had a take that seems like fuzzy dream-pop in comparison to “Celestial Magick” and the screamy sludge that populates On Through the Sky Maze, their second LP. The nine-song 48-minute full-length is the first to feature bassist/vocalist Ryan “Grime Pup” Mailman alongside guitarist/vocalist Kris Dzierzbicki, guitarist Roberto Paraíso, and drummer Randylin Babic, and songs like “Lost Dwellers” or the mellow-spacier “Drifting Upward,” with no harsh vocals, seem to hit more directly, in addition to arriving in a different context with the “blegh”s of “Wandering Supergiants” and “Caerdoia,” and so on. In the end, Mailman‘s rasp becomes one more tool in Aawks‘ songwriting shed, and the band have more breadth and are less predictable for it. Call that a win, even before you get to the record being good.
The shimmering, floating guitar in “Echoes (The Empress)” tells part of the story in the deep-running The Cure influence, and the somewhat moody vocals of Charlie Suárez echo that emotional foundation, which is coupled in that song and throughout Moon Destroys‘ debut album, She Walks by Moonlight, with a willful progressivism in the songwriting, attention to detail in the arrangements, melodies, even the mix. Comprised of Suárez, guitarist Juan Montoya (ex-Torche), bassist Arnold Nese and drummer/producer Evan Diprima (Royal Thunder), the band are able to set a wash in place that’s not deceptively heavy in “The Nearness of June” (an earlier demo track) because it’s beating you over the head with tone, but still has more to offer than just its own heft. “Only” sounds like heavied-up proto-emo, while the roll of “Set Them Free” is massive in terms of both its riff and its big feelings. If you’re willing to let it grow on you, She Walks by Moonlight can be a space to occupy.
In Space We Trust is one of four-so-far full-lengths that Santtu Laakso — multi-instrumentalist, vocalist, composer and producer — has out between Astral Magic and related collaborations and projects. It’s not a pace of releasing one can keep up with, but if you need a check-in from the generation ship that is Astral Magic, chances are Laakso is out there on some voyage or other between classic space rock and clearheaded prog, spanning galaxies. The eight-song/42-minute In Space We Trust pairs him with lead guitarist Jonathan Segel (Øresund Space Collective, etc.), and one should not be surprised at the cosmic nature of the resulting music. The pair get into some sci-fi atmospherics in “Ancient Pilots” and “Alien Emperor,” but the synth and guitar are leading the way across the galaxy and the vibe across the board is more Voyager and less Nostromo, so yes, smooth solar-sailing the whole way through.
The dreamy guitar, semi-rapped vocal, and dub backbeat give the opening title-track of Never Never a decidedly ’90s cast, but it’s not the summary of what Toronto’s Lammping have to offer in their collaboration with weirdo-rockabilly solo artist Bloodshot Bill, bringing together their urbane, grounded psych and studiocraft, samples, etc., with the singer/guitarist’s low, sometimes bluesy delivery across seven songs totaling 15 minutes, peppering the vibe-on-vibes of “Never Never,” “One and Own” and “Won’t Back Down” — the longest inclusion at 3:23 — with ramble and flow alike, with experimental jawns like “Coconut,” “0 and 1” or “Anything is Possible” and the closer “Nitey Nite,” all under two minutes long and each going their own way with the casual cool one has come to expect from Lammping, quietly staking out their own wavelength while still sounding like something from a half-remembered soundtrack to a radder version of your life. This is one of four releases Lammping will reportedly have over the next year or so. Way on board for whatever’s coming next.
After the disbanding of Samsara Blues Experiment in 2021, guitarist/vocalist Christian Peters — who had already by then moved from Germany to Brazil — unveiled Fuzz Sagrado with EPs in July and October of that year. Fuzz Sagrado‘s 2021 self-titled (review here) and Vida Pura EPs are included on Strange Daze, a new compilation of tracks unified through a remaster by John McBain, showcasing the early outreach of keyboard and guitar that served as the foundation for the project. As Peters readies a live band for an eventual return to the stage, Strange Daze demonstrates how multifaceted the growth has been in terms of songwriting and still feels exploratory in hindsight as it did when the material was first released. Also included is the jammy “Arapongas,” which wasn’t on either EP but was recorded around the same time. Something of a curio or a fan-piece, but I ain’t arguing.
When the Deadbolt Breaks, In the Glow of the Vatican Fire
A couple different modes on When the Deadbolt Breaks‘ In the Glow of the Vatican Fire, which is the long-running Connecticut malevolent doomers’ umpteenth album, running 63 minutes and eight songs. Some of those are longer pieces, like opener “The Scythe Will Come” (12:24), “The Chaos of Water” (14:02), “The Deep Well” (10:42) and “Red Sparrow” (10:57), but interspersed with these are a succession of shorter tracks, and the breakdown between them isn’t just that the short songs are fast and the long songs are slow. Certainly the ripping early portions (and the later, more minimalist spaciousness) of “The Chaos of Water” argue against this, and the dynamic turns out to be correspondingly complex to suit the abiding murk of mood, as founding guitarist/vocalist Aaron Lewis and co-singer Cherilynne provide foreboding croon to suit the lo-fi, creeping, distorted terrors of the music surrounding. This is When the Deadbolt Breaks absolutely in their element; bleak, churn-chaotic, expressive, immersive. They’re able to put you where they want you whether you want to go or not.
It may have sat on the shelf for two years since recording finished in 2023, but don’t worry, it’s still from the future. Laughter is the second-on-Sulatron full-length from Italian experimentalists A/lpaca, and it sees them push deeper into electronic elements and ambiences, keeping some of the krautrock elements of their 2021’s Make it Better, but with songs that are shorter on average and that stand ready to convey a sense of quirk in the keyboard elements or the Devo verses of the title-track, which isn’t without its aspect of shove. Does it get weird? You bet your ass it does. “Bianca’s Videotape,” “Who’s in Love Daddy?,” the post-punk synthery meeting doomed fuzz on “Empty Chairs,” the list goes on. Actually, it’s just the tracklisting and it’s all pretty freaked out, so as long as you know going in that the band are working from their own standard of weirdoism, making the jump into the keyboardy gorge of “Kyrie” or the new wave-y “Don’t Talk” should be no problem. If you heard the last record, yeah, this is different. Seems like the next one will probably be different again too. Not everyone wants to do the same thing all the time.
Alright, day two. Here we go. I never really know how a given day of the Quarterly Review is going to flow until I get there. The hope is that in slating releases for a given day — which I mostly do randomly over time, though I generally like to lead with something ‘bigger’ — I’ve considered things like not putting too much that sounds the same together, geographic variability, and so on. Sometimes that plan works, and I get a day like yesterday, which was pretty close to ideal. If that was the pattern for this entire QR, I’d be just fine with that, but I know better. One day at a time, as all the inspirational tchotchkes say.
Feeling good though headed into day two, so I’ll take it.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
Blackwater Holylight, If You Only Knew
The narrative around L.A.-by-way-of-Portland’s Blackwater Holylight at this point is one of growth, and well it should be. At seven years’ remove from their self-titled debut (review here), the four-piece offer the four-song If You Only Knew — three originals and a take on Radiohead‘s “All I Need” — as something of a stopgap four years after their third LP, Silence/Motion (review here). And like that 2021 album, “Wandering Lost,” “Torn Reckless” and “Fate is Forward” see the band working to expand their sound. They’re not upstarts anymore, and the marriage of dream-pop and crush on “Wandering Lost” alone is worth the price of admission, never mind the downward swirl of “Torn Reckless” the melodic burst-through and quiet space of “Fate is Forward” or the explosion in the back half of the Radiohead tune. Pro shop, all the way.
There’s a deep current of Melvinsian quirk in Spider Kitten‘s thickly-riffed slog, and it’s in the creeper-into-noiseburst of “Revelation #1” with its later rawest-Alice in Chains harmonies as much as the false start on “Febrile and Taciturn” and a chugblaster like “Wretched Evergreen” which is just one of the six songs in the 14-song tracklisting under two minutes long. Throughout the 37 minutes, shit gets weird. Then it gets weirder. Then they do folk balladeering in “Sueño” for a minimal-Western divergence prefacing the later soundtrackery of “Woe Betide Me.” Then they’re back to bashing away — but at what? Themselves? Their instruments certainly. Maybe a bit of shaking genre convention if not outright, all-the-time defiance. The key blend is ultimately of the crunch in their guitar and bass tones and the melodies that come to top it — not that all the vocals are melodic, mind you — with a kind of creative restlessness that makes each cut find its own way through, some at a decent clip, to leave a dent right in the middle of your forehead.
Montreal three-piece Mooch align with Black Throne Productions for their fourth album release. The band, comprised of guitarist/bassist/vocalist Ben Cornel, guitarist/vocalist/bassist/keyboardist Julian Iac and drummer/vocalist Alex Segreti, have run a thread of quick, purposeful growth through the last several years, with 2024’s Visions (review here) following 2023’s Wherever it Goes following their 2020 debut, Hounds, and other singles and such besides. At their hookiest, in a piece like “Hang Me Out (False Sun),” they remind some of At Devil Dirt‘s heavy-fuzz poppy plays, but one knows better than to expect Mooch to be singleminded on an LP, and Kin plays out with according complexity, finding a particularly satisfying resolution in “Prominence” before hitting successive, different crescendos in “Lightning Rod,” “Gemini” and the eight-minute “Zenith” to end the record. A band who genuinely seem to follow where the material takes them while refusing to get lost on the way.
I’m not a punker. I was never cool enough to listen to punk rock. Generally when I hear something that’s rooted in punk and it lands with me, I assume that means the band are doing punk wrong. If so, I like the way Snakes & Pyramids do punk wrong on Disappearer. The tonal presence, their willingness to make not-everything be exactly on-the-beat, the liberal doses of wah treatment on the lead guitar to give a psychedelic edge, the effects on the vocals helping that as well, plus the flexibility to roll out a heavy riff. There’s not a whole lot to not like as they push genre limits across 38 minutes and eight songs, finding space for post-punk in “Disappearer” or “All the Same” before they really dig in on the near-eight-minute closer “Seven Gods.” For future reference, the band is the doubly-Brian’ed three-piece of Brian Hammond (ex-The Curses), Brian Connor (ex-Motherboar) and Cavan Bligh. Psychedelic punk, even more than punk-metal or any other way you might want to try to blend it, is incredibly difficult to pull off well. That seems much less the case here.
Unbelievable Lake, I Have No Mouth and Yet I Must Scream
There is only one song on I Have No Mouth and Yet I Must Scream, and it’s the title-track. At 41 minutes long, that’s all you need, and Northern Irish psych-drone experimentalists Unbelievable Lake — think Queen Elephantine, but longer-form, more effects on the guitar, and dramatic in the ebbs and flows — the first 10 minutes are a movement unto themselves, with a linear build into a consuming payoff; due comedown provided. Those comparatively still stretches can be some of the most difficult for a band who’ve just blown it out to dwell in, but Unbelievable Lake use negative-space as much as crush to make their way toward the next culmination, which sort of gradually devolves instrumentally but makes its way along the path of residual noise toward one last round of pummel. You bet your ass they make it count. This is a significant accomplishment, and enough on its own wavelength that most ears will glaze over to hear it. But there’s just the right kind of brain out there for it, as well. Maybe that’s you.
Krautfuzz scorch the ground on the 23-minute “Live at the Church A” to such a degree that I’m surprised there was anything left to plug in for when they bring out J. Mascis of Dinosaur Jr. and Witch to take part in “Live at the Church B,” let alone a full album-unto-itself 39 minutes’ worth of go. Rest assured, there’s plenty of noiseshove in “Live at the Church B” as well, and it arrives quicker than in the preceding slab, guitar running forward and back in loops even before the swirl cuts through the fuller distortion surrounding at about seven minutes in, howls and wails and wormholes and spacetime bend inward, flex outward, breathe like the cosmic microwave background, and the exploration continues after the rumble (mostly) subsides, getting ready to sneak in one more mini-freakout before they’re done. Damn, Krautfuzz. Save some lysergic push for the rest of the class. Or better, don’t. Clearly they were rolling out the ‘red carpet’ for Mr. Mascis. It just happened to be red from all the plasma churning thereupon.
Even before they get to the six-and-a-half-minute “The Door” or the dreamy midsection of closer “Medusa,” London’s Sleeping Mountain demonstrate patience in their delivery early on with the instrumental-save-for-the-sample leadoff “Humans” and “Walls of Shadows,” which leads with guest vocals before the full tonal crux of the riff is unveiled, and continues in methodical, doom-leaning fashion. That’s a vibe that doesn’t necessarily persist as the later “Akelarre” puts the cymbals out front and pushes a more uptempo finish ahead of the closer “Medusa,” but the dude-twang “Alibi” and the all-in nod of “Tennessee Walking Horse” underscore the message of dynamic, and while this self-titled may be the first album from Sleeping Mountain, it portrays the three-piece as confident in their approach and sure of their direction, even if they’re not 100 percent on where that direction is going. Nor should they be. They should be writing the songs and letting the rest work itself out over time, which is what you get here. They sound like a band I’ll still be writing about in a decade, so I guess we’ll see how it goes.
Behold the awaited first album from Durham, UK, sludge-doom, put-a-pillow-over-your-face-and-it’s-made-of-riffs betrayers Goblinsmoker. Dubbed The King’s Eternal Throne and indeed capping with the three-minute minimalist homage “Toad King (Forest Synth Offering),” the preceding title-track works its way from its more poised opening into an engrossing meganod of hairy-ass distortion, with the later-arriving throatripper screams ready for whatever Dopethrone comparison you want to make, and no less sharp in the biting. Of course, by the time they get to that third-of-four inclusions, this has already been well proven on side A’s “Shamanic Rites” and “Burn Him,” the leadoff holding to a steady and malevolent lumber while the follow-up takes a faster swing to upending witchy convention as the vocals offer the most vicious devourment I’ve heard from an English band since Dopefight roamed the earth. Down with humans. Up with toads. Familiar enough in its sludgy roots, The King’s Eternal Throne makes its own trouble like dog food makes gravy (with added liquid, in other words), and basks in heaps of shenanigans besides. The songs are like slow-motion razor juggling.
The three-song sophomore full-length, Shrine, from Italian heavy progressives Onioroshi is the band’s first outing since 2019’s debut, Beyond These Mountains (review here), and is duly adventurous for that. Set up across “Pyramid” (18:18), “Laborintus” (15:35) and “Egg” (20:31), the album feels cohesive in refusing to be anything other than one it is. Its psychedelia is met with fervent terrestrial groove, and “Laborintus” spends most of its 15 minutes sounding like it’s about to fall apart, but never does. Duh, should I call it expansive? The truth is at 54 minutes, it’s a significant undertaking, but “Laborintus” ends up thrilling for the element of danger, and though raw in the production, “Egg” builds its own world in atmospherics, pushing further in the ebbs and flows of “Pyramid,” which itself takes loud/quiet trades to a less-predictable place. Some of Shrine feels insular, but that seems to be the point. A creative call to worship, and maybe worshiping the creativity itself.
Whoa. First of all, with Tempus Deorum, you’ve got L’Ira del Baccano. The Roman psychedelic explorers follow 2023’s Cosmic Evoked Potentials (review here) with the 19-minute piece “Tempus 25,” an ether-bound reach that hypnotizes well ahead of unveiling its full tonal breadth and even crushes a bit before receding ahead of the next go. With synth cascading through the midsection and a duly expansive build that hits two more climaxes before it’s through, “Tempus 25” sets itself up in contrast to Tilburg, the Netherlands’ Yama, whose 2014 debut, Ananta (review here), is well remembered as they offer three songs “Wish to Go Under,” “The Absolute” and “Naraka,” that feel more solidified in their structure but that offer complement to “Tempus 25” for that. Not short on scope themselves, Yama let the chug patterning and vocal soar of “The Absolute” stand in evidence of their progressivism, and after 11 years, they sound like they have more to say. One only hopes that’s the case all around on this somehow-tidy, 35-minute split LP.
Posted in Whathaveyou on May 13th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
New Mooch tune is a banger. It’s called “Sunburner,” like the headline said, and it’ll be released on June 20 through Black Throne Productions along with the rest of the Canadian riffers’ new long-player, Kin. Coming out in June puts it at 13 months’ remove from the band’s last outing, 2024’s Visions (review here), but if you think that’s me complaining you’re reading it wrong.
The three-piece — who I don’t think have always been partly-based in Yellowknife (Northwest Territories) in addition to Montreal, but are now — will play Rhüne Mountain Fest (June 26-28) to celebrate the release, and they are already confirmed to appear at 2026’s Planet Desert Rock Weekend VI in Las Vegas (info here). The announcement below comes from social media and the album credits and such are from Bandcamp. I snagged the top line from the preorder page. Just trying to pack as much information in as I can. Have I told you I’ve started to think of these things as archival? At very least centralized info I’ll probably want later.
Here you go:
“KIN” is MOOCH’s desert-rock odyssey – their fourth studio album, and is available on 180g fireburst swirl vinyl and CD format – due for release on June 20.
The record’s first single “SUNBURNER” dropped this week. Go give it a listen and tell us what you think. Lots of really good stuff in the works for MOOCH and we have another big announcement for Monday- stay tuned! 🤘
KIN’ is the fourth full length LP by heavy psych band MOOCH. It is the first album to be released in collaboration with Canadian Indie label, Black Throne Productions.
Tracklisting: 1. YR4 2. Meteor 3. Sunburner 4. Hang Me Out (False Sun) 5. Prominence 6. Lightning Rod 7. Gemini 8. Zenith
Produced By MOOCH Mixing: Julian Iac Mastering: Richard Addison At Trillium Mastering Recorded By: Julian Iac At Icebox Studio And Clayton Dupuis At Holy Mountain Studio Vocal Coach, Vocal Arrangement, Slide Guitar On Gemini : Joe Segreti Additional Arrangement: Clove Lombardi Album Artwork: Deliriavision
KIN Canadian Tour 2025 🌑
We’re proud to present the summer tour for our upcoming album KIN.
June 11 – Kingston June 12 – Ottawa June 19 – Kitchener June 20 – Toronto June 21 – Barrie June 27 – Oshawa June 28 – Dunnville
July 4 – Montreal July 5 – Quebec City July 19/20 – Yellowknife July 23 – Lethbridge July 24 – Edmonton July 25 – Red Deer July 26 – Calgary
We’re lucky to be sharing the road with friends old and new.
See y’all on the road ✌️
*ticket links will be rolling out this week for various legs of the tour. By the end of the week you should be able to find your city in our Linktree ✅
Poster: @deliriavision
Mooch are: Ben Cornel (Guitar, Bass, Vocals) Julian Iac (Guitar, Bass, Vocals, Keys, Percussion) Alex Segreti (Drums, Percussion, Vocals)
Posted in Reviews on April 14th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Welcome back to the Quarterly Review. Just because it’s a new week, I’ll say again the idea here is to review 10 releases — albums, EPs, the odd single if I feel like there’s enough to say about it — per day across some span of days. In this case, the Quarterly Review goes to 70. Across Monday to Friday last week, 50 new, older and upcoming offerings were written up and today and tomorrow it’s time to wrap it up. I fly out to Roadburn on Wednesday.
Accordingly, you’ll pardon if I spare the “how was your weekend?”-type filler and jump right in instead. Let’s. Go.
Quarterly Review #51-60:
Megaritual, Recursion
Last heard from in 2017, exploratory Australian psychedelic solo outfit Megaritual — most often styled all-lowercase: megaritual — returns with the aptly-titled Recursion, as multi-instrumentalist, vocalist and producer Dale Paul Walker taps expansive kosmiche progressivisim across nine songs and 42 minutes. If you told me these tracks, which feel streamlined compared to the longer-form work Walker was doing circa 2017, had been coming together since that time, the depth of the arrangements and the way each cut comes across as its own microcosm within the greater whole bears that out, be it the winding wisps of “Tres Son Multitud” or the swaying echoey bliss of later highlight “The Jantar Mantar.” I don’t know if that’s the case or it isn’t, but the color in this music alone makes it one of the best records I’ve heard in 2025, and I can’t get away from thinking some of the melody and progressive aspects comes from metal like Opeth, so yeah. Basically, it’s all over the place and wonderful. Thanks for reading.
Slab-heavy riffage from Andalusian three-piece Red Eye‘s III spreads itself across a densely-weighted but not monolithic — or at least not un-dynamic or unipolar — eight songs, as a switch between shouted and more melodic vocals early on between the Ufomammut-esque “Sagittarius A*” (named for the black hole at the Milky Way’s center; it follows the subdued intro “Ad Infinitum”) and the subsequent, doomier in a Pallbearer kind of way “See Yourself” gives listeners an almost-immediate sense of variety around the wall-o’-tone lumbering fuzz that unites those two and so much else throughout as guitarist/vocalist Antonio Campos del Pino, bassist/synthesist Antonio Pérez Muriel and drummer/synthesist/vocalist Pablo Terol Rosado veer between more and less aggressive takes. “No Morning After” renews the bash, “Beyond” makes it a party, “Stardust” uses that momentum to push the tempo faster and “Nebula” makes it swing into the Great Far Out before “The Nine Billion Names of God” builds to a flattening crescendo. Intricate in terms of style and crushingly heavy. Easy win.
Even by the respective standards of the bands involved — and considering the output of Detroit grit-doomers Temple of the Fuzz Witch and Montreal sans-guitar scathemakers Seum to this point, it’s a significant standard — Conjuring is some nasty, nasty shit. Presented through Black Throne Productions with manic hand-drawn cover art that reminds of Midwestern pillsludge circa 2008, the 27-minute split outing brings three songs from each outfit, and maybe it’s the complementary way Seum‘s low-end picks up from the grueling, chugging, and finally rolling fare Temple of the Fuzz Witch provide, but both acts come through as resoundingly, willfully, righteously bleak. You know how at the dentist they let you pick your flavor of toothpaste? This is like that except surprise you just had all your teeth pulled. It only took half-an-hour, but now you need to figure out what to do with your dazed, gummy self. Good luck.
Uncle Woe offer two eight-minutes-each tracks on the new EP, Folded in Smoke, Soaked and Bound, as project founder/spearhead Rain Fice (in Canada) and collaborator Marc Whitworth (in Australia) bring atmosphere and grace to underlying plod. It’s something of a surprise when “One is Obliged” relatively-speaking solidifies at about five minutes in around vocal soar, which is an effective, emotional moment in a song that seems to be mourning even as it grows broader moving toward the finish. “Of Symptoms and Waves” impresses vocally as well, deep in the mix as the vocals are, but feels more about the darker prog metal-type stretch that unfolds from about the halfway point on. But what’s important to note is these plays on genre are filtered through Uncle Woe‘s own aesthetic vision, and so this short outing becomes both lush and raw for the obvious attention to its sonic details and the overarching melancholy that belongs so much to the band. A well-appreciated check-in.
I would not attempt to nor belittle the band’s accomplishments by trying to summarize 35 years of Negative Reaction in this space, but as the West-Virginia-by-way-of-Long-Island unit led by its inimitable principal/guitarist/vocalist Ken-E Bones mark this significant occasion, the collection Salvaged From the Kuiper Belt provides 16 decades-spanning tracks covering sundry eras of the band. I haven’t seen a liner, so I don’t even know the number of players involved here, but Bones has been through several incarnations of Negative Reaction at this point, so when “NOD” steamrollers and later pieces like “Mercy Killing” and the four-second highlight “Stick o’ Gum” are more barebones in their punksludge, it makes sense in context. Punk, psych, sludge, raw vocals — these have always been key ingredients to Negative Reaction‘s often-harsh take, and it’s a blend that’s let them endure beyond trend, reason, or human kindness. Congrats to Bones, whom I consider a friend of long-standing, and many more.
Given how many different looks Fomies present on Liminality, and how movement-based so much of it is between the uptempo proto-punk, krauty shuffle and general sense of push — not out of line with the psych of the modern age, but too weird not to be its own spin — it feels like mellower opener “The Onion Man” is its own thing at the front of the album; a mellower lead-in to put the listener in a more preferred mindset (on the band’s part) to enjoy what follows. This is artfully done, as is the aforementioned “what follows,” as the band thoughtfully boogie through the three-part “Colossus,” find a moment for frenetic fuzz via Gary Numan in “Neon Gloom,” make even the two-and-a-half-minute “Happiness Relay” a show of chemistry, finish in a like-minded tonal fullness with “Upheaval,” and engage with decades of motorik worship without losing themselves more than they want to in the going. At 51 minutes, Liminality is somewhat heady, but that’s inherent to the style as well, and the band’s penchant for adventure comes through smoothly alongside all that super-dug-in vibing.
Classic Boston DGAF heavy riff rock, and if you hear a good dose of hardcore in amid the swing and shove, The Long Wait‘s self-titled debut comes by it honestly. The five-piece of vocalist Glen Dudley (Wrecking Crew), guitarist Darryl Shepard (Kind, Milligram, Slapshot, etc.) and Steven Risteen (Slapshot), bassist Jaime Sciarappa (SSD, Slapshot) and drummer Mark McKay (Slapshot) plunder through nine cuts. Certainly elbows are out, but considering where they’re coming from, it’s not an overly aggressive sound. Hardcore dudes have been veering into heavier riffing à la “Uncharted Greed” or “FWM” for the last 35 years, so The Long Wait feels well in line with a tradition that some of these guys helped set in the first place as it revisits songs from 2023’s demo and expands outward from there, searching for and beginning to find its own interpretation of what “bullshit-free” means in terms of the band’s craft.
Since 2020, Miskolc, Hungary-based solo-band Babona have released three EPs, a couple singles and now two full-lengths, with Az Utolsó Választás Kora (‘the age of the last choice’) as the second album from multi-instrumentalist and producer Tamás Rózsa. Those with an appreciation for the particular kind of crunch Eastern Europe brings to heavy rock will find the eight-tracker a delight in the start-stops of “2/3” and the vocals-are-sampled-crying-and-laughing “A Rendszer Rothadása,” which digs into its central riff with suitable verve. The later “Kormányalakítás” hints at psych — something Rózsa has fostered going back to 2020 with Ottlakán, from whom Babona seems to have sprung — and the album isn’t without humor as a crowing rooster snaps the listener out of that song’s trance in the transition to the ambient post-rocker “Frakció,” but when it’s time to get to business, Rózsa caps with “Pártatlan” as a grim, sludgy lumber that holds its foreboding mood even into its own comedown. That’s not the first time Az Utolsó Választás Kora proves deceptively immersive.
Sit tight, because it’s about to get pretty genre-nerdy. Sutras, the Washington D.C.-based two-piece of Tristan Welch (vocals/guitar) and Frederick Ashworth (drums/bass) play music that is psychedelic and heavy, but with a strong foundation specifically in post-hardcore. Their term for it is ‘Dharma punk,’ which is enough to make me wonder if there’s a krishna-core root here, but either way, The Crisis of Existence feels both emotive and ethereal as the duo bring together airy guitar and rhythmic urgency, raw, sometimes gang-shouted vocals, and arrangements that feel fluid whether it’s the rushing post-punk (yeah, I know: so much ‘post-‘; I told you to sit tight) of “Racing Sundown” or the denser push of “Bloom Watch” or the swing brought to that march in “Working Class Devotion.” They cap the 19-minute EP with posi-vibes in “Being Nobody, Going Nowhere,” which provides one last chance for their head-scratching-on-paper sound to absolutely, totally work, as it does. The real triumph here, fists in the air and all that, is that it sounds organic.
The story of Sleeping in Samsara‘s self-titled two-songer as per Christian Peters (formerly Samsara Blues Experiment, currently Fuzz Sagrado, etc.) is that in 2023, My Sleeping Karma drummer Steffen Weigand reached out with an interest in collaborating as part of a solo-project Weigand was developing. Weigandpassed away in June 2023, and “Twilight Again” and “Downtime,” with underlying basic tracks from Weigand in drums, keys/synth, and rhythm guitar, and Peters adding lead guitar, vocals, bass in the latter, the songs are unsurprising in their cohesion only when one considers the fluidity wrought by both parties in their respective outfits, and though the loss of Weigand of course lends a bittersweet cast, that this material has seen the light of day at all feels like a tribute to his life and cretive drive.
Posted in Whathaveyou on January 23rd, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Montreal heavy rockers Sons of Arrakis this week begin their 2025 round of live activity supporting their second album, Volume II (review here), heading out on the previously announced ‘The Great Scattering Part II’ tour with Salem’s Bend. The occasion there — in addition to the record and the importance of getting together and doing things with friends, duh — is a stop through Planet Desert Rock Weekend V at the end of the month in Las Vegas, and I can’t help but note that Stoomfest, which is listed below for July at the end of the band’s to-now-revealed live plans for this year, is in the UK. Seems fair to expect at very least a week of touring around that, unless it’s an exclusive one-off or some such.
To my knowledge those will be the band’s first shows not in Canada or its embarrassing southern neighbor, but there are plenty of chances to see them in the US too, including this Spring in the Northeast and at Maryland Doom Fest in June. All the dates and info are below, as posted on socials by the band:
🚀 Sons of Arrakis: Shai-Hulud Odyssey Part I – 2025 🚀
We’re thrilled to announce the Shai-Hulud Odyssey 2025 tour presented by Black Throne Productions! 🌌 This journey will take us across North America and beyond!
Posted in Whathaveyou on January 2nd, 2025 by JJ Koczan
It would seem to have worked out the first time if the somewhat exhausted but contently familiar faces of Salem’s Bend and Sons of Arrakis in the photo are anything to go by. At least those you can see. The two bands, from Los Angeles and Montreal, respectively, set out together this past February and March on a run of six joint Canadian shows, and this West Coasty stint coming up at the end of January would seem to be a fitting answer to that.
Further impetus, of course, is provided by the stopthrough in Las Vegas for Sons of Arrakis to play the opening night of Planet Desert Rock Weekend V, but it’s always nice to know that two bands enjoyed each other’s company enough to want to ever speak or play a show together again, let alone potentially share space, gear and/or van stink for upwards of a week’s time.
One difference between this year (2025) and last is that in 2024, Sons of Arrakis released Volume II (review here), which is certainly a thing to consider. Oh, and I didn’t actually see a poster for the tour, which is called ‘Great Scattering Part II,’ but there’s a credit for one to Bill Kole in the social media post below. If you read this and have it, I’m happy to add it to the post after the fact. Thanks.
Please note that all event links below are live. It took me an embarrassingly long time this morning to cut and paste hyperlinks between tabs, so yes, I’m pointing it out. I probably got them wrong, so heads up there too, I guess:
⚡️Great Scattering Tour Part II⚡️
One month to go before we hop on a plane to Los Angeles to reunite with our friends from Salem’s Bend ! Visas are sorted, gear is ready, and we’re fired up!
We had so much fun on our Great Scattering tour through Québec and Ontario earlier this year that we just had to make a Part II ⚡️
Cheers to our partners at Ripple Music, Black Throne Productions and Vegas Rock Revolution for making it happen!
Scope the dates below and we’ll see you on the road!
Posted in Whathaveyou on November 20th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
After a busy 2023 that saw them release a split alongside Aiwass (review here) and their own mostly-covers EP Luna (review here) besides, Ontario’s Aawks announce their impending second album, On Through the Sky Maze, will be released on March 21, 2025 — the future! — and unveil the first single “Celestial Magick” as a herald of things to come.
If you heard the original studio track on Luna, “The Figure,” you might recall that song’s oh-well-that’s-another-level-isn’t-it finish, and “Celestial Magick” — for which a new video is streaming at the bottom of this post, along with the audio of the late-2023 EP — seems to be picking up from there. Laced with atmospheric screams in its early going, the six-minute track gives an immediate sense of lumber and feels like a turn from where Aawks were on their 2022 debut, Heavy on the Cosmic (review here), darker and still melodic, but much more in a cult-stoner, post-Electric Wizard operating mindset. The band have flirted with different kinds of heavy before, certainly — did you catch their take on Flock of Seagulls? — but “Celestial Magick” has a grim and pointedly sludged atmosphere.
As to how that might play into On Through the Sky Maze as a whole, I wouldn’t guess, but clearly there’s some shift in dynamic afoot. The PR wire offers intrigue:
AAWKS Unleashes “Celestial Magick,” the First Single from Their Highly Anticipated Album
Canadian heavy psychedelic rockers AAWKS are back with a vengeance, releasing the spellbinding new single “Celestial Magick” from their upcoming album On Through The Sky Maze (due March 21, 2025, via Black Throne Productions). Watch the haunting music video for “Celestial Magick” HERE.
A six-minute journey through fuzz-drenched riffs, ethereal harmonies, and crushing grooves, “Celestial Magick” captures the band’s unique blend of heavy, occult-infused psychedelia. “Celestial Magick” dives deep into Norse mythology, vividly depicting a village preparing for an attack from Naglfar, the ship of the dead. AAWKS weaves a tale that is both mythic and existential, embracing mortality as a gateway to transformation. With evocative lyrics, thunderous rhythms, and entrancing guitar work, the track showcases the band’s signature sound: melodic yet punishing, cosmic yet grounded.
Kris Dzierzbicki (vocals/guitar/synth), on the inspiration behind the track: “This song explores humanity’s rituals and symbols of death, viewing mortality as both an ending and a doorway. It’s about resilience in the face of inevitability and the universal cycle of life, death, and rebirth. We wanted to create something that felt timeless yet immediate, a journey through space and time with riffs as your guide.”
“Celestial Magick” is the first taste of On Through The Sky Maze, the band’s most ambitious project to date. Featuring nine tracks and a guest roster of talented collaborators, the album promises a bold evolution of AAWKS’ sound.
About AAWKS:
Hailing from the mysterious foothills of Kempenfelt Bay in Barrie Ontario Canada, AAWKS make heavy-psych, stoner-doom music. They mix melodic songwriting with pummeling riffs and grooves and their music is as influenced by newer bands such as MEPHISTOFELES, MONOLORD, WINDHAND and the MELVINS as it is by classic rock bands like BLACK SABBATH, PINK FLOYD and DEEP PURPLE. They explore fantastical themes of the occult and spin tales of mind expansion and spaced out exploration of the multiverse. AAWKS released their debut full length album (((((HEAVY ON THE COSMIC))))) in June of 2022 on Black Throne Productions which landed at #2 on the Doom Charts that month.
AAWKS is: Kris Dzierzbicki (guitar/vocals) Roberto Paraíso (guitar) Randylin Babic (drums) Ryan “Grime Pup” Mailman – bass/vocals
