Quarterly Review: Primordial, Cattlemass, Honeybadger, Blue Heron, Stoned Spirit, Ravenswood, Sum of R, Atomic Saman, Moonstone, Wooden Tape
Posted in Reviews on November 18th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Tell your normie friends you have a doctor’s appointment or something, because the Quarterly Review is back with day two of five, bringing another round of 10 releases to bear in succession rapid enough to be modern without, you know, actually being written by a computer. Unless you consider the entire universe a hologram, in which case, technically, everything is done by a computer. Processor sucks though. That’s why you get lags. And fascism.
But enough of that. More of this.
Quarterly Review #11-20:
Primordial, Live in New York City
A Primordial live album? Fine. Recorded in New York? Fine. Whatever. Just hook it to my veins and be done with it. The stalwart Dublin post-black-metallers have long since established their mastery of form, and frankly, the more examples there are of them doing the thing, so much the better for future generations to learn from. That’s only funny if you think I’m kidding. The 99 minutes of Live in New York City are a document of Primordial not at their most furious or unhinged, or at their most atmospheric, graceful or doomed, but they are stately in “The Golden Spiral,” “As Rome Burns” and the ever-epic “Bloodied Yet Unbowed.” I remain a sucker for “Empire Falls” and “No Grave Deep Enough,” that era, but newer material like “How it Ends” and “Victory Has 1,000 Fathers, Defeat is an Orphan” resonate well alongside what to my mind are classics, emphasizing the vitality and stage presence that remain in Primordial. If it’s a victory lap, or contractually obligated, or whatever, I don’t care. It’s Primordial. There’s no stronger endorsement you could give it than to say that.
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Cattlemass, Alpha 1128
Cattlemass have a live lineup, but the studio debut from the band was written, played and tracked by Chris Price, and the eight songs of Alpha 1128 (shades of THX 1138 in the title) would seem to be harnessing his vision of a mostly mid-tempo doom metal that’s not afraid to break out and rock a bit or dig into a creeper procession like “Infecticide.” Starting with its longest track in “Chant of Cthulhu,” Price enacts a thickly toned nod that holds even as “Eternal Beast” tosses psych flourish into its midsection. Some of the production reveals a background in metal — the muted stops in “Replicant,” complementing a robotic theme, bring the wavform all the way down; stoner recordings leave the amp hum — but there’s attention to atmosphere around that, both in “Intermission” and the instrumental finale “Exit Oblivion” and in the later reaches of “The Wizard” and the largesse that swells as “Nachthexen” rolls through its midsection. I’ll be curious to discover where Price goes from here, and if Cattlemass‘ next LP might be a full-band affair.
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Honeybadger, Let There Be Light
Though the intro guitar on “Before the Crash” seems to call out to original-era Mediterranean psychedelic rock, Athenian four-piece Honeybadger are nothing if not terrestrial. Specifically, grounded in desert-heavy and catchy songwriting, with their second album, Let There Be Light coming five years after their debut, Pleasure Delayer (review here), which they spent years supporting. Queens of the Stone Age remain a primary influence, though “Before the Crash” pushes outside this in its melody and “Filth and Disorder” hits harder and “Empty-Handed” is more fuzzed, and as with the first album, there are personality aspects that shine through as “The Green” answers in its riff the call of the opener and the horn arrangement in the closing title-track plays a dirge. It’s been a minute, and the LP feels short at 32 minutes, but the tradeoff is the songs are tight and sharply delivered and I’ll take that every time. Honeybadger took their time to make it, but what they’ve made is a step forward.
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Blue Heron, Emulations
Not gonna feign impartiality here, as I consider Blue Heron frontman Jadd Shickler a friend and he’s someone I’ve worked with for over 20 years, but what I will say is that I very much dug 2024’s Everything Fades (review here), and Emulations builds on that with included live versions of “Everything Fades” and “Swansong” (as well as two cuts from the first LP) recorded at KUNM in the band’s native Albuquerque, while pushing ahead with a new original track “Marigold” that’s a highlight, and three covers — Fudge Tunnel‘s “Grey,” Clutch‘s “The House That Peterbilt” and Floor‘s “Find Away” — that emphasize the flexibility of the band around their heavy desert core. “Grey” is vicious at its heaviest, “Find Away” is admirably loyal to the original in its weighted blowout, and the Clutch tune gets a gruff treatment, but the melodies in “Marigold” and the energy in the live takes give a full album’s worth of satisfaction while packaged as an EP to take on tour. Mark it a win.
Blues Funeral Recordings website
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Stoned Spirit, Inside Me
Stoned Spirit offer big hooks, thoughtful songcraft, progressive arrangements and a sense of the material as an outreach to the listener. It’s my first experience with the band, who also had an album out in 2016, but from the voicing of all “Mankind” in the opener through the uptick in tonal density as the built-into title-track unfurls its lumber, there doesn’t seem to be a moment on Inside Me that one would call ‘unconsidered.’ This is a strength to the listening experience because the four-piece — vocalist Tony, guitarist Marios (also backing vocals), bassist Titos and drummer Chris — kind of sound like they’ve been hammering out this material for nine years. Or if not all nine, certainly some statistically significant portion of that span. That’s a complement to how dug-in Stoned Spirit are to their approach, satisfying in its atmosphere and movement alike, but mature as the songs feel they remain expressive in the stories they’re telling.
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Ravenswood, Rites of the Let Down
The two-song opening salvo of “Red Eyes in the Hollow” and “Oath of the Stream” doesn’t necessarily set you up for the full scope of Ravenswood‘s six-track debut album, Rites of the Let Down, which from those shorter and punchier pieces unfurls four longer, significantly-more-likely-to-be-called-“slabs” of doom leaning into psychedelia. The pairing of those two isn’t new, obviously, but Ravenswood make it feel dramatic as they reroute “Where You Won’t Be” or the willfully choppy title-track from darker processions into tripped-out jams — stark changes that are executed with remarkable fluidity and, in the case of the title-track, patience. “Holler Knows” might be where they find the middle-ground, but it’ll be another record or two before we know if that’s actually something they’re pursuing, and the post-grunge vocal melody and meme-ready last slowdown in closer “Solid Psychonaut” also bode well if we’re looking for things to bode. There’s room to grow and the production is raw, but Rites of the Let Down operates with individuality as part of its intention.
LINK
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Sum of R, Spectral
Maybe it’s somewhat counterintuitive, but in the pushing-out extremity of “Solace,” in the slow cinematic drones of “Cold Signtures,” in the synthy expanse of “Null” and the guitarrier (yeah I said that) reaches of “The Solution,” but what might be Sum of R‘s seventh album can be as stark, grim and desolate as it wants in “Agglomeration” with G. Stuart Dahlquist sitting in, and the penultimate “Violate” can hit a crescendo like what if post-black-metal-and-screamo-but-not-awful and it still to me just sounds like a celebration. There’s no getting away from it. Spectral is dark, and it often feels unremitting across its 49 punishment-prone minutes, but all of it is a celebration nonetheless — of creativity, of outsiderism, otherism, of searching for ideals beyond the mainstream and finding depth in places others would fear to go. It almost can’t help but be beautiful, otherwise consuming as the darkness is.
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Atomic Saman, Saman The Doom
Gritty stoner-doom nod pervades the debut release Saman The Doom from Shanghai-based trio Atomic Saman. Opener “Fuzzonaut” is instrumental, but after the Jeff Goldblum sample, “F.L.Y.” has vocals in its rolling, raw-tracked miasma. The grooves are loose as “F.L.Y.” plods into the bassy opening of nine-minute centerpiece “Torture Machine” (sample from A Clockwork Orange there) and the low-mixed stoner-chant is part of what unfolds, but Atomic Saman run deep in the addled ethereal, and “Torture Machine” and the subsequent, tops-10-minutes “Brain COP” keep immersion central, so it works. Closer “Weedsky (Live in CAVE)” is lumbering enough to make you think they actually went to a cave to capture it, and reveals something of an Electric Wizard influence underlying, but Atomic Saman are less horror and more red-eyed paranoia and that suits the exhausted-with-the-world disaffection as well as the trance factor here just fine.
SloomWeep Productions on Bandcamp
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Moonstone, Age of Mycology
By the time they’re most of the way through sub-three-minute opener “A New Dawn” and the command is issued to, “Bow to mycelium cown,” I’m ready. With some rolling fluidity inherited perhaps from their countrymen in Dopelord and mellow vocals over purple-hued doomly fuzz, the lumber is strong with Kraków four-piece, who bring ambience alongside crush with the open spaces (gradually filled via tone) of “Glorious Decay,” the brash shove of “Primordial,” the daring toward ethereality of “This Barren Place,” and so on. “Disco Inferno” moves, but “Primordial” sprints, making for an interesting pair late, where back at the outset “Crooked One” and “Glorious Decay” bring moodier engrossing. It resolves, perhaps inevitably, with a 13-minute title-track that is a journey unto itself with multi-tiered solos, progressive expanse and a little flourish of goth in its verses. “Age of Mycology” fits as a summary for the LP that carries its name, with a speedier crescendo waiting after a murky slog to get there, righteously bleak but not hopeless. Dooming on their own wavelength, they are.
Interstellar Smoke Records store
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Wooden Tape, Wool
A sampling experiment like “Alpine Pop” and the tuning-in-a-radio on “A Nutty and a Texan Bar Please,” the veering from “Saturday Morning” from serene meditation to harsher drone — these are just examples of the many ways in which Wooden Tape‘s Wool basks in the details. Songs like “The Moroccan House” and “Croxteth Hall,” the five-minute “Beneath the Weeping Willow Tree,” etc., have a foundation in blending often-acoustic guitar and electronics/synth, so there’s basically an infinity of room for UK-based solo artist Tim Maycox to explore whatever reaches he might choose. On “Kirby Market,” he imagines a kind of pastoralia with Mellotron and chimes, a thud behind for percussion, whereas it’s raining on “Laundrette Sunday” and the arrangement becomes a jangle of cascading elements, departing the strum of “Crescent Town” and seeming to cap the weekend conveyed through the tracks’ procession by packing a full day in the final 1:42. Some Sundays are like that.
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