Posted in Whathaveyou on March 27th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
This past Friday was the release date for Acid King‘s stunner of a new record, Beyond Vision (review here), and to mark that happy-for-the-universe occasion, they and their Euro booking agency Sound of Liberation — US is Nanotear — announced that in accordance with a couple already-unveiled fest appearances at SonicBlast, Hoflärm, and so on, they’ll be connecting those map dots with a string of headlining tour dates.
Two reasons why this matters. Okay, three. First is the album they’re touring for, which is a career accomplishment with a more expansive and psychedelic sound than they’ve fostered in their 30 years. Second, that 30-year anniversary, which is this year, should be more than enough to motivate asses from couches, especially in light of the fact that (third), unless Beyond Vision — and yes I’m going to plug the review again, because I worked really hard on it — suddenly sells through 100,000 copies (not to say it shouldn’t or couldn’t), or outdoes Stoned Jesus in YouTube plays, or meets whatever measure of “is a massive popular success” defines that right now, they’re probably not going to be on the road for months at a stretch. See them while you can, is what I’m saying to you.
And considering they’re fucking Acid King, that’s probably all I need to say about that, as much as I needed to say anything The album was made as a four-piece but Acid King will travel as a trio, and word of the tour follows as per the PR wire:
ACID KING “BEYOND VISION’ TOUR + NEW ALBUM
USA‘s iconic doom institution ACID KING celebrate the release of their new album. „Beyond Vision“ is out now!
And what’s the best way to celebrate a new album?
Exactly. By going on TOUR!
Sound of Liberation proudly presents: ACID KING – BEYOND VISION TOUR 2023
You know what to do. Grab your copy of „Beyond Vision“, grab your ticket for the concert near you. And with the ticket in your hand you can headbang in front of your record player until you can finally headbang in the front row.
Posted in Reviews on March 23rd, 2023 by JJ Koczan
It is both a seeing-beyond and a beyond-seeing, this Beyond Vision. It at very least is a vision beyond anything Acid King have ever done on their four prior albums, as founding guitarist/vocalist Lori S. revamped the group in collaboration with Jason Landrian (also Black Cobra) on guitar and songwriting, bringing on the rhythm section of bassist/synthesist Bryce Shelton (also Nik Turner’s Hawkwind) and drummer Jason Willer (Jello Biafra’s Guantanamo School of Medicine). In the now-30-year history of the band, nothing under their name has attempted this magnitude of sound. They’ve never been so psychedelic or atmospheric, and they’ve been both for a long time, most recently on 2015’s under-lauded Middle of Nowhere, Center of Everywhere (discussed here, review here), but Beyond Vision takes the terrestrial grooves of their past output and launches them into the ethereal. And from the moment they set forth through space into the roll of “One Light Second Away” and on through the first guitar solo, there is a fluidity to Beyond Vision that’s refreshed while still definitively Acid King. It’s like they got a reboot and that means something more than just it’s too dark to see what’s happening in the episodes.
That’s before you step into the “Mind’s Eye” and get to the fact that “90 Seconds” is just under five minutes long while the later interlude “Destination Psych” is just over 90 seconds and the bending of time required there or the Author & Punisher-plus-organic-drums thud and earth-shake at the launch of “Electro Magnetic”; the stunning realization there, before it goes so deep and far into standalone guitar that even the arrival of the also-standalone-guitar at the beginning of the title-track seems like a respite, never mind the nod or airy float of the vocals or the utter gorgeousness of the bassline. On and on they ooze through ground familiar and new, through not ground at all, the latter emphasized on the kraut-via-Clockwork–Orange intro to closer “Color Trails,” which is followed by plodding toms and a riff presented in tone worthy of Tony Iommi himself (I mean that), a full instrumental breadth and a dramatic finish around that same thud, the long-established partnership with producer/engineer Billy Anderson once again resulting in a malleable and thoughtful mix, spacious enough to be the band’s own world while still able to account for the largesse of riff that remains a core aspect of their style, even as the context surrounding has evolved toward atmospheric intangibility.
Collecting seven tracks with a runtime of just over 42 minutes, Beyond Vision builds on the less-terrestrial aspects of Middle of Nowhere, Center of Everywhere, but its reach and the purposeful use of synth give it a character that still feels like a departure. Crucial to the telling is “One Light Second Away,” which even as the bass rumbles early in the fading-up ambience does a lot of the work in placing the listener where the band wants them. Some lightly foreboding swells of melodic keys coincide with organic bass and undulating waveforms of amplifier hum, and when the first strum hits at two minutes in, it’s a moment of clarity clearing away the surrounding murk. But while the entire six-minute stretch is important in terms of how it introduces the mood and dimensionality of the material that follows while also conveying the instrumentalist focus, those barely-there-at-first beginning two minutes are even more essential to Beyond Vision; a call to abandon consciousness and be absorbed. To get lost and trust the radiating currents of matter, energy, fractured molecular detritus, etc., to carry you from the start to see what resides at the end.
By 2:30, guitar, bass, drums and synth are all nodding, but Acid King claim their place in a mellow-psych movement they helped create even as they seem exploratory in their build, an echoing lead emerging over a welcoming sans-vocal chorus before the march resolidifies, reminding of Om‘s meditations but setting up a more straight-ahead guitar solo that carries them into the song’s final minute and a repeat of that rise-and-fall guitar hook. Synth is given room in the mix (there’s plenty) to become no less of a contributing factor than any other instrument in moving toward the last residual noise that transitions from “One Light Second Away” into “Mind’s Eye,” a strum and lead-note answer from the guitars willfully slow in the first minute as Acid King for the first time prioritize resonance over impact while offering both. Amid full fuzz buzz and a progression that feels constructed in part to answer that last stretch of “One Light Second Away,” “Mind’s Eye” assures there’s a guiding hand here, and still benefits from the soothing motif of what’s come before as it touches ground and rolls decisively forward. The first words on the album, delivered of course by Lori, are the invitation to “Step into the mind’s eye,” and though nearly a quarter of the runtime has passed before that verse starts — almost 10 minutes of a 42-minute LP, so not quite 25 percent but pardon the fuzz-tone math and take it as a signal of Beyond Vision‘s instrumental emphasis — that it exists at all is something of a snap to reality, even as the verse-ending line “You are on your way…” has rarely seemed so true.
Atop consistent ping-ride and crash and kick from Willer, the riff changes to more of a twisting bridge before smoothing out again on the interplay of big-hug-chug and fuzzy pepper-notes, shifting easily into and through a solo before going back to the verse, layered in the word “eye,” only one line changing from the first time through. The lyrics are hardly an afterthought — they’re the guide — but are intended to be taken as a piece of the entirety rather than a separate element, and as much as they provide a (literal and figurative) human communication from within so much nebular f0g, they serve the double-function of setting and enhancing the otherworldly motif of Beyond Vision as a full LP and become part of the flow that leads from one movement to another, less predictable as the record plays out because they might not always be there. “Mind’s Eye” rings out on a held guitar note that shifts into subtly churning synth and melodic hum in the intro to “90 Seconds,” the shape of which is revealed gradually with a verse over the low-end rumble, a kind of Lori-as-chant effect taking hold whether through layering or effects before the drums crash in just past the two-minute mark, a cavernous psychedelic doom soon resolved in lush melody ahead of a section of final crashes and a sweep into the noted synthesizer-plus-drums thud “Electro Magnetic.”
At 8:17, “Electro Magnetic” is the longest single inclusion on Beyond Vision and a key manifestation of Acid King‘s goals in moodcraft and instrumentalist contemplation. At the same time, the procession across the first half of the song in sparse guitar, timekeeping tom work, and synth-led nod reminds of “Carve the Five” from the band’s 1999 landmark second album, Busse Woods (featured here, discussed here, etc.), and so both reaffirms that Lori has dwelled in these kinds of spaces before even as the manner in which she and the rest of the band do so has changed (let alone the personnel), and grown more patient. The triumph of “Electro Magnetic” is declared at 4:02 as the drums mark the turn into the central riff of the song — which would remind tonally of Shrinebuilder if Shrinebuilder hadn’t been reminding of Acid King — and the march through a crescendo wash of fuzz and airy soloing, more severe than most of what’s landed thus far but not at all out of place for its obscured familiarity. After six minutes in, they shift back to the synth and drum repetitions, guitar complementing more than leading, and slowly begin to deconstruct, leaving the guitar as the last thread to depart, having said not an actual word but conveyed much, both answering and expanding on “One Light Second Away” as they course into side B’s subsequent molten ceremony.
Likewise instrumental, but more guitar-based at its core, the title of the 1:36 safe-to-call-it-an-interlude “Destination Psych” is referenced repeatedly in the lyrics of the penultimate “Beyond Vision,” though whether psychedelia is the destination of your journey or it’s “Destination Psych” like a destination-wedding, where the psych is happening in this place and you need to get there, I’m not certain. One way or the other, “Destination Psych” is the lead-in for the final movement of Beyond Vision, which encompasses it, the title-track that follows, and “Color Trails” at the end. It is the last track with vocals — three of seven, the final tally — and no less dug-in than anything prior, with a standout bassline from Shelton that feels like a call to prayer for those who’d worship Black Sabbath, starting after the languid solo turns into the final verse and makes its presence felt as “Beyond Vision” moves into its final minute, more active but not overblown in its payoff, the crash and rumble held for a long fade into the transitional buzz before the stark guitar and bass notes start “Color Trails” with a sense of comedown that’s undercut righteously by the mounting intensity of the piece as it moves into the section of riffing mentioned above, Lori answering the bass with her own Sabbath moment soon met by Willer‘s drums, which start on cymbals and kick but shift into increasingly furious tom fills, circular in their pattern as they’d almost inevitably be, but stretched for one last forward push.
Some of “Color Trails” bring to mind a song like “Laser Headlights” from Middle of Nowhere, Center of Everywhere, or the buzzing leads of “Silent Pictures,” but the proportion has changed, and as Acid King return to that headspinner of a drum stretch, this time punctuated with cymbals and double-kick and, eventually, snare, the sense is that they’ve pushed as far as they can push and the only thing to do is end it, which they do as the guitars cut out and threaten a return, sweeping back in not to begin anew but to pull the drums down with them this time, leaving heavy silence and an echo in the mind of the listener of the scope of their accomplishment. Though it might sound like it on first blush because it’s so utterly entrancing, Beyond Vision does not meander. It is not sloppy, or haphazard, or unaware of itself. Instead, it is exactly what the band, particularly Lori and Landrian as songwriters — though it seems fair to imagine Lori has final say on everything they do — want it to be, and it manifests a new degree of immersion matched in wholeness of craft and boldness of sound that makes it a career album perhaps even more special because it’s not Acid King‘s first. They may not release records every year or two or five — though to be fair, they did offer Live at Roadburn 2011 (review here) in 2022 — but they’ve yet to put one out and have it not feel like a landmark.
What happens after Beyond Vision is anyone’s best guess. I won’t speculate, and neither will I feign impartiality about the band’s efforts here or in general. I’m a fan. There. And in the interest of full disclosure, I’ll mention the liner notes I wrote for the PostWax release of the album, for which I was compensated, but if you think I was working the long con covering the band for the last 14 years to start raking in cash one time or that I’m somehow hyping up their work for my own financial interest, well, I’m not, and I’m pretty sure that money doesn’t exist even if I wanted it. The horrifying truth is that Acid King have thrown open creative doors with Beyond Vision and stepped into a new era for them as a band. Not just because there’s some synth or industrial beats, but because they’ve dug deep enough into their sound that they’ve uncovered new facets of it, dreamlike and sublime, memorable and sprawling. It was already long past time to start thinking of Acid King among the greatest acts heavy rock and roll has ever produced. Beyond Vision brooks no argument in sealing their place among these giants. Recommended.
Acid King, Beyond Vision (2023)
Acid King, “Destination Psych/Beyond Vision” official video
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 22nd, 2023 by JJ Koczan
There are going to be a lot of people with Dozer at the top of their best-of-2023 lists about 10 months from now, and none of them will get any argument from me. The venerated Swedish heavy rockers return after 15 years with Drifting in the Endless Void, which is out April 21 through Blues Funeral Recordings. By that time, the subscribers to the label’s PostWax service will have already gotten their platters — the download codes went out a couple evenings ago — and as I wrote the liner notes for that edition of the release, I won’t pretend not to have heard it. It’s new Dozer. I feel like that’s the highest compliment for it, and if you know the band, you know that means something.
Yesterday, the band and label posted the track “Ex-Human, Now Beast,” and I almost put this up then, but got the tipoff that the video was coming today for it, so here we are. I’ve waited a long time to talk about this record, so one more day isn’t killing me, but if you’re still reading, why? The clip is at the bottom of the post. Go. Go!
The PR wire brought the following info, preorder links, and so on. As I said, go:
Swedish stoner rock godfathers DOZER to release new album “Drifting in the Endless Void” on Blues Funeral Recordings; preorder + first single available!
Swedish godfathers of stoner rock DOZER return after over a decade with their long-anticipated sixth studio album “Drifting in the Endless Void”, to be released this April 21st on Blues Funeral Recordings. Watch their brand new video for “Ex-Human, Now Beast” right now!
About Dozer’s awaited comeback, Dozer co-founder and lead guitarist Tommi Holappa comments: “It’s been 15 years since the last Dozer album and this is who we are now. We might be older, maybe not so much wiser, but I think we may have made one of our best albums. When we started writing new material, we didn’t have a clue what this band would sound like in the 2020s. It was a bit nerve-wracking at first, but after we finished “Missing 13”, the first song we wrote for the album, we knew we were onto something. The first single “Ex-Human, Now Beast” has all the energy, power and heaviness we’ve always loved to create, it’s proof we can still rock and we can’t wait for people to hear it!”
About the video: “As soon as I saw the track name, I knew I needed to do a video where one or more of the guys get beastified by a giant tentacled monster,” laughs Peder Bergstrand, director, Lowrider frontman and longtime friend of the band. “The result is a mix of horror, humor, and these relentless animated nightmare sections that I think match the track’s non-stop rocket fuel drum parts really well.”
DOZER still bring the tumultuous churn that longtime fans expect, but their sound has become a gravitational mass that also pulls in massive sludge, fuzzed-out doom, space-tripping grooves, red-eyed psychedelics, and whatever else they find floating in the vast cosmic expanse. Their return to the musical landscape they helped shape is cause enough for celebration, but the explosive playing and fiery purpose is what makes “Drifting in the Endless Void” a truly unmissable experience!
“Drifting in the Endless Void” will be available worldwide on April 21st (with the ultra-limited deluxe vinyl edition shipping earlier to PostWax Vol. II subscribers) on various vinyl formats, limited digipack CD and digital.
New album “Drifting In The Endless Void” Out April 21st on Blues Funeral Recordings Get more info & subscribe to PostWax Vol. IIat this location
1. Mutation/Transformation 2. Ex-Human, Now Beast 3. Dust for Blood 4. Andromeda 5. No Quarter Expected, No Quarter Given 6. Run, Mortals, Run! 7. Missing 13
DOZER is: Tommi Holappa – Guitar Fredrik Nordin – Guitar/Vox Johan Rockner – Bass Sebastian Olsson – Drums
Posted in Questionnaire on February 6th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Daniel Gustafsson of Mammoth Volume
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
The Swedish idiom I use is ‘hobby-musician’. If the person I’m talking to still hasn’t left after that description, I get into subcategories like ‘bedroom recordings’, DIY, Black Sabbath- and Mike Oldfield worship. By now I’m talking to myself for sure, and that’s when I like to add that one doesn’t choose an artistic hobby, it chooses you. Music picked me. I’m a subpar poet and a terrible painter, but writing, playing and recording music is the gift that keeps on giving for me.
Describe your first musical memory.
An Elton John live concert on TV, and particularly a rock and roll song. I was playing the crap out of the sofa pillows for drums, but I also decided to learn to play the piano then and there. (I half delivered on that promise.)
Some years later, and probably more profoundly, I sometimes got to stick around at my grandfather’s place when his friends came by with their violins, accordions and acoustic guitars (and alcohol!); they were jamming on Swedish folkmusic and trading hot solos. To this day, unplugged folky jams are probably my favourite. And alcohol.
Describe your best musical memory to date.
Some time along the 2001 MV tour the band started to get more and more loose, and it was during some of those live improvisations I started to feel that we as a group had a pretty great chemistry. Now trust me, we didn’t always slay! BUT it was a real ego boost to feel that the band could throw itself into any old vamp, and still make quality music. Opinions may vary on that of course.
On a ‘higher’ level, the best musical memory would be when I realised cannabis made my favourite records five times better. I’m down to 1.5 times better by now, but still totally worth it.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
I was brought up a materialistic working-class atheist, then I switched to young adult Christian for 15 years, and then I went back to middle-aged agnostic-atheism, so there’s that. First hand experience of how the ‘grand narrative’ really does shape one’s worldview.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
I’m sure you chose that phrase — artistic progression — precisely to mess with musicians [Not true. – ed.]… so here goes:
I am a little suspicious of musicians who keep “broadening their horizon” for one thing. Sure, there have been a few great artists who have pulled it off qualitywise, but us average Joes shouldn’t be so ambitious. I say it’s better to dig deeper rather than to look to your sides for inspiration. But then again, I am very much an introvert in the jungian sense. If somebody says they love “all kinds of music” I go into crazy tourettes mode and start listing bands and artists, demanding to know if the person ACTUALLY loves Stockhausen, Portal (Aus), Ornette Coleman, shrieking Muslim calls to prayer… Some people’s sanctimonious virtue signaling using different kinds of world-music in particular is laughable. It’s OK to dislike certain styles of music; in fact if you don’t, that means you have no quality standard by which to make an aesthetic judgment. Whatever.
Secondly, I think there are fundamentally distinct aspects to ‘art’. Similar to how music consists of melody-harmony-rhythm-tambre, there’s art for pleasure, for education and propaganda, for communion, for introspection; art from the head and art from the heart, sometimes even art from your naughty bits. For example: I didn’t learn to play the guitar to get chicks, so if I turned into Tommy Lee’s penis on our next tour that would not count as artistic progress. I have a few aspects of making music that I focus on (e.g. improvisation/chance; through composed harmonies over improvised music; the instrumentation) so artistic progression, for me, means doing more of the same but with a slight variation. More like Darwinian evolution than some crazy Frankenstein scientist mixing a little bit of this, a little bit of that, hoping to suddenly get it right.
How do you define success?
Crush the enemies. See them driven before you. Then, hear the lamentation of my super-ego wailing “What are you doooing!”
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
Dad’s porn collection.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
How about a concept/rock opera album. But a really good one. No fillers. The second side of the LP is one long track of course. But what’s the concept? Undecided at the moment. If you asked me two days ago I would suggest the sinking of the ferry Estonia 1994. If you asked me two weeks ago I would say The Life of Jesus (part the first). At the moment I am reading up on some hella exciting psychiatric diagnoses, that would be great fodder for a concept album. I think this project will have to wait until I’ve made up my mind.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
I think there are a couple of different functions of art, because there are a couple of different aspects to this thing we call ‘art’. As I have already hinted at, the self-reflecting function of creating and working with music is a key aspect for me. Art as a way of holding up a mirror (in this case to myself, as opposed to society). But I also unironically appreciate the pure beauty of some art/music; a few moments of sublimated pleasure, a glimpse of perfection. That meeting can raise the spirits in an important way.
And a different sort of function: my chosen art ‘music’ becomes a conduit for things not necessarily music related. For example, the problem solving aspect of editing music is almost as rewarding to me as the actual writing of the music. That whole trial-and-error process, guided by educated guesses, fills up my quota of crossword puzzle brain gymnastics. If I didn’t have music I would have to get that fix somewhere else but as it happens art, qua function, has that covered too.
Lastly, the act of listening to one’s intuition, a vision if you’re lucky, and then to follow that vague sense of direction, that builds character. Forget about being in charge, forget about applying your training; listen closely to your intuition and have faith that you’re going in the right direction. Making music can be a safe training ground for working on that skill, which then has a chance of spilling over into ‘real’ life.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
Posted in Whathaveyou on January 17th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
This shit’s so good. So good. As a result of doing the liner notes for the PostWax release of Acid King‘s Beyond Vision, I’ve been fortunate enough to live with the record for a while, and it remains a pleasure. A completely revamped lineup — a four-piece that has founding guitarist/vocalist Lori S. joined by Black Cobra‘s Jason Landrian on guitar/synth, as well as Bryce Shelton on bass and Jason Willer on drums. They’ve got a video up, and it’s just a beautiful thing to behold, the way so much of Acid King‘s sound is still there, but it’s been expanded on in this batch of songs, the contributions Landrian brings in, the unflinching groove on which it’s all based. It’s a gorgeous record.
I think Postwaxers got their download codes already, if not their vinyl — and I’m not gonna tell you to subscribe to a thing or not; especially not something that’s paid me to write (the liner notes, that is; I’d be writing this shit anyway) — and to the general public, Beyond Vision will see the light of day on March 24. It’s one of 2023’s best, just so you know in advance. Also, I’m gonna get me one of those t-shirts come payday.
From the PR wire:
Stoner metal icons ACID KING announce new album “Beyond Vision” on Blues Funeral Recordings; first video and preorder available now!
ACID KING, the pioneering heavy rock band fronted by the inimitable Lori S., return with “Beyond Vision” this March 24th on Blues Funeral Recordings, an album that sees the iconic San Francisco-based band lean into psychedelia and the avant-garde. Watch the video for “Destination Psych/Beyond Vision!”
The 7-song, 43-plus-minute collection was recorded to two-inch tape courtesy of Dead & Company at Sharkbite Studios in Oakland, California. Acid King founder and guitarist/vocalist Lori S. worked hand in hand with Black Cobra guitarist/vocalist Jason Landrian, with the pair sharing writing and production credits. The band is rounded out by Bryce Shelton (Nik Turner’s Hawkwind) on bass and synthesizer, and Jason Willer (Charger, Jello Biafra) on drums.
On the new direction, Lori explains: “The band was never really that psychedelic, but this is definitely more trippy because we’ve got keyboards and synthesizers. That’s something we’ve never had before on Acid King records. The songs really have no beginning or end — they all just flow into each other. It’s meant to be listened to as one piece. The whole point was to have the listener feel like they’re on a journey. If you put headphones on, it’ll take you to whatever places you’d like to go to.”
About the concept of “Beyond Vision”, she adds: “The record is based on the journey of life. Jason [Landrian] and I were having these heavy pandemic conversations at the practice space for two years, talking about all the stuff you go through being in bands, touring, your relationships in life, all that stuff. You think this trip is supposed to go one way, but it goes in very different ways that you can never imagine.”
It’s not just life on Earth she’s talking about. “Beyond Vision” contemplates life on Mars, life on the moon, and death in the furthest reaches of space. Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey was a key influence. Then there was the mesmerizing 2019 documentary Apollo 11: “I was hugely inspired by that documentary. I absolutely love the soundtrack Matt Morton did for that. I’ve probably listened to it a million times. I really loved the journey it took me on, even without the movie. It just made me ponder life.”
Pre-orders for ACID KING’s new album “Beyond Vision” are available now from Blues Funeral Recordings on a variety of limited edition vinyl and cassette formats, as well as CD and digital.
Posted in Whathaveyou on December 2nd, 2022 by JJ Koczan
No doubt their signing with Blues Funeral will mean that their next outing will be the first exposure a lot of listeners have to Jack Harlon and the Dead Crows, so forgive me if I’m a little one-eyebrow-up at it being a covers record. Yeah, I have no doubt the Melbourne heavy desert-psych rockers can put their own spin on tunes from Bauhaus and Melvins, My Bloody Valentine and Joy Division, and so on — they prove it with God‘s “My Pal” as the first single — but it just seems like curious place to start.
I’m hopeful that the band’s first two albums, 2018’s Hymns and 2021’s The Magnetic Ridge (review here), will see international reissue or at very least a new push in distribution as a result of the signing, and if Hail to the Underground is a way for an expanded audience to get on board in the meantime, that hardly seems like something to complain about, perhaps least of all for it being a less-expected way to go. Okay, I think I just talked myself into being cool with it. That didn’t take long.
Here we go to the old PR wire:
Apocalyptic desert psych unit JACK HARLON & THE DEAD CROWS to release new album on Blues Funeral Recordings; first video and preorder up!
Melbourne’s psychedelic fuzz rockers JACK HARLON & THE DEAD CROWS share the first single and video taken from their forthcoming third album “Hail to the Underground”, to be issued on February 17th through Blues Funeral Recordings. Watch their fire-driven new video for “My Pal” right now!
As Australia began a series of flash pandemic lockdowns in early 2021, Melbourne psychedelic fuzz rock band Jack Harlon & the Dead Crows’ prolific frontman Tim Coutts-Smith began experimenting with home recording some of his favorite old songs. This rabbit-hole deep-dive eventually led him to bring the fans in on the project, with a social media post inviting suggestions of old underground songs they’d like to hear “Harlon-ified”.
The result is ‘Hail to the Underground,’ a collection of renditions by Jack Harlon & The Dead Crows selected for their musical importance and personal meaning, with the general throughline being that none of the original artists are household names. Filtered heavily through the spaced-out psychedelia of Jack Harlon’s inimitable style, this fuzz-drenched, genre-crossing love letter includes songs by under-the-radar icons like Bauhaus, God, Butthole Surfers, Joy Division, The Melvins, and more.
About the cover, guitarist and vocalist Tim Coutts-Smith comments: “The debut cover is a tribute to the Australian band GOD, who formed in 1986 and released the song ‘My Pal’ in 1988. The song is seen as a national treasure by a lot of alternative Aussie bands with it being covered by artists such as Magic Dirt, Violent Soho and Peabody. Our band put a call out to our fans to ask which songs they would like performed in our sound. We received an overwhelming response requesting we cover ‘My Pal’. I’ve always loved this song, so the choice was a no-brainer. There is something so mysterious and strangely emotional about this song which, despite its simplicity, I can never fully put my finger on.”
“Hail to the Underground” will be released worldwide on February 17th, 2023 on various vinyl editions, digipack CD and digital, with preorder available now through Blues Funeral Recordings.
TRACKLIST: 1. My Pal (God) 2. Copache (Melvins) 3. You Made Me Realise (MBV) 4. Dust Devil (Butthole Surfers) 5. Day Of Lords (Joy Division) 6. Roll & Tumble (Hambone Willie Newbern) 7. Dark Entries (Bauhaus) 8. Eye Shaking King (Amon Duul II)
Jack Harlon & The Dead Crows is: Josh McCombe – Drums Tim Coutts-Smith – Vocals, Guitar Jordan Richardson – Guitar Liam Barry – Bass
Posted in Bootleg Theater on November 11th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Though it’s fair to call The Otolith‘s debut album, Folium Limina (review here), urgent on any number of levels as regards emotional resonance or sonic push, the surge at the beginning of second track “Andromeda’s Wing” is about as immediate as they get. And it’s pretty immediate, so there you go. That moment, especially coming out of album opener “Sing No Coda,” is crucial to the early impression the album makes, a claim to intensity present and, hopefully, future, that also maintains the atmosphere of the track before as it begins to unfold its melody from there. It is, in other words, one hell of a 30 seconds or so of music, and the nine minutes that follow are nothing to shake a stick at either.
Soar and crush, both readily on display across the record, are at the core of “Andromeda’s Wing,” but in one of the band’s most fortunate inheritances from members’ prior outfit SubRosa, their vision of post-metal is deftly arranged such that what essentially breaks down on paper to trades between loud parts and quiet parts are a richer experience than just the simple back and forth. And no, that’s not just an effect of the violins or the largesse of tone they captured in the studio. It’s in how everything comes together through the guitar, bass, synth, drums, vocals, and strings; a wholly consuming effect that can feel like a wash, totally overwhelming, or can be a world in which to dwell, depending entirely on the moment, the listener, and the course of the song in question.
Like much of Folium Limina, “Andromeda’s Wing” is complex and engrossing, severe and melodic, a beauty-in-darkness kind of pummel and spread that is emblematic of the individualized creative spirit that makes the album so substantial. I haven’t decided yet if it counts as a debut, really, since it’s more like a lineup and name change than a new band being formed, but if it is, it’s the best one of 2022. Maybe that’s a thing worth celebrating anyway in the spirit of hope that they do more sometime in the next couple years. Or, you know, ever. I’d be satisfied with ever.
Enjoy the clip:
The Otolith, “Andromeda’s Wing” official video
Salt Lake City’s symphonic doom and post-metal unit THE OTOLITH (with members of SubRosa) share their brand new “Andromeda’s Wing” video today. Their debut album “Folium Limina” is out now on Blues Funeral Recordings.
About the video, the band says: “We wrote this song in Levi’s [Hanna, guitar] basement during the winter, huddled in a circle of chairs next to his computer and his pinball machine. It came together over a couple of weeks, and at one point, Kim [Cordray, violin/vocals] had a beautiful idea for an outro vocal melody and some lyrics. Then I connected her idea with these recurring dreams I have about aliens. After that the lyrics sort of tumbled out. The protagonist is sleepwalking in the deep countryside, passing by nocturnal animals who watch as she journeys. She has the feeling of leaving her body and looking down at herself in the road. She comes to a natural spring and speaks with alien visitors about what can be done to slow the destruction of the planet.”
THE OTOLITH is the avant-garde doom and post-metal band formed by former SubRosa members Kim Cordray, Levi Hanna, Andy Patterson and Sarah Pendleton, alongside bassist Matt Brotherton. Following the same muse of cathartic and cataclysmic melancholy as their previous outfit, their debut album “Folium Limina” draws no line between beauty and doom, with ghostly symphonic strings interlacing with crushing bass, guitar and percussion, while all four vocalists conduct signals across time and space to arrive through cosmic storms to a sea of liquid stars. A cathartic and mind-elevating experience without a doubt!
THE OTOLITH is Kim Cordray – Violin, Vocals Levi Hanna – Guitar, Vocals Andy Patterson – Drums, Percussion Matt Brotherton – Bass Guitar, Vocals Sarah Pendleton – Violin, Lead Vocals
Posted in Reviews on October 28th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
There’s just so much happening. It’s like life. From the tolling bell, crow calls and subtle bass-led progression — almost dance — soon joined by a tense chugging guitar line, peppered ambient notes of who knows what, and emergent violin in the first two minutes of “Sing No Coda” to the ultra-melancholic wash in the end of closer “Dispirit,” with its weaving lines of rhythmic static, sad, slow strings, and noise on an eventual fade, yes, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed. The first lines of the Folium Limina arrive with Utah-ready puritanical severity behind them, vocalists Sarah Pendleton and Kim Cordray, both of whom also play violin, finding their way into and around harmony while they, guitarist/vocalist Levi Hanna, bassist/vocalist Matt Brotherton and drummer/percussionist Andy Patterson — who engineered, mixed and mastered the recording, as he will — begin to unfurl the bleak majesty that is the backdrop before which their debut album takes place.
The this-is-mostly-slow-but-all-urgent sensibility that persists throughout the six pieces/63 minutes and the outright elephantine tonal heft of their heaviest chapters, as well as basic elements like the vocal harmonies, violins, immersive post-metallic claustrophobia, longer-form songwriting, etc., are The Otolith‘s chief inheritances from SubRosa, and if the argument being made in Folium Limina is that the prior band had more to say — that they weren’t done when they were done — it’s one that prompts easy agreement with the songs making that point.
Pendleton (also of Asphodel Wine) steps into a lead vocalist role and Hanna swaps bass for guitar in the new outfit, and he and/or Brotherton are perhaps more prominent as male/harsh vocalists (pardon me if I don’t break out percentages) as demonstrated at the and-go!-surging-lurch beginning of “Andromeda’s Wing” and the sweeping midsection of the aforementioned “Dispirit,” which at 11:08 bookends Folium Limina with “Sing No Coda” (which opens with its longest track, thereby earning ever-coveted ‘immediate points,’ at 13:29; everything else is between nine and 10 minutes), but aesthetically, there’s little question that The Otolith are moving outward from what SubRosa became across their four full-lengths, even as they begin to lay claim to a path of their own apart from the songwriting contributions of Rebecca Vernon (now of The Keening), whose departure from SubRosa effectively ended the band, and fair enough.
Narrative, blessings and peace upon it, has its contextual role to play, but knowing SubRosa‘s work is not a barrier to engaging The Otolith in the slightest. That is, it’s not too late before you’ve begun to listen. Their songwriting happens in waves, with “Sing No Coda” establishing the movement-based methodology that persists through much of the outing and seems to bring each individual part to a certain place of ceremony, whether it’s the winding and pushing of “Andromeda’s Wing” or the offsetting of massive plod in the highlight-among-highlights “Ekpyrotic” (if you’re looking for a “Stones From the Sky” moment; it’s there), which seems to howl into an abyss of American expanse: “Great birds once human gather to drink in the high desert night” setting the stage for the culminating lyric “We are the light,” which even the growls in Latin that follow somehow don’t outdo for heft, general aural gorgeousness or listener consumption. It is the sound of porcelain created with care, crushed to powder, and remade, over and over.
The Latin phrase at the end of “Ekpyrotic,” ‘amor vincit omnia,’ translates as ‘love conquers all’ (‘truth’ is similarly exalted earlier in the track; again, fair enough) and that seems to be the core message of the album in general — unless you count the creativity of the snare in “Andromeda’s Wing” and the toms in “Dispirit” as their own kind of message in their signifying the attention paid to every note and measure of this work; the layer of whispers in the short break in “Hubris” before the next wave of volume brings the hook in its own time, and countless other examples of critical minutiae that help give Folium Limina such impossible but inevitable depth — but it serves especially well as a lead-in for “Hubris,” “Bone Dust” and “Dispirit,” which follow on the second half of the tracklist and play through a legible storyline of perseverance in the face of “hubris like smoke in your mane” and the reminder that, “Each of us holds a seed of power/That cannot be thieved.”
“Bone Dust” places this more directly in the context of preserving the US experiment as a multicultural democratic nation — mixed results, to-date, to say the least — against encroaching authoritarianism, both through its own battle cries amid the full-breadth tones that awaken from the subdued opening stretch of violin and soft bass and guitar, and through the soliloquy sampled from Charlie Chaplin’s 1940 film, The Great Dictator, in which a leader clearly intended to be a nazi casts off repressing the populace in favor of encouraging freedom and democracy. It is strikingly, tragically relevant, presented over a chugging, purposefully repetitive riff and crash intended to give it space. Chaplin urges, “do not despair” since so long as men die, freedom will never perish, and pledges to fight for a new, better, more just world.
It’s hard to know if it’s wishful thinking or mourning for the fact that our reality bears so little resemblance to that one, but “Disprit” gets final say. Made tense through ambience and strings initially, it conveys the exhaustion of good souls being steamrolled as it builds toward its eventual payoff — that tom part; yes — and hits into full volume at the 4:30 mark, though that burst is by no means as far as The Otolith are willing to push it. One more time before Folium Limina is done, the five-piece offer years’ worth of depth and hear-something-new fodder as textures of violin, the driving shove of the guitar, bass, drums, shouted vocals, whatever else is happening there in those troubled reaches, all coalesce around the singular idea of loss of cause through dismay, a kind of nod from within to the apocalypse-fatigue that may well cost the United States its political system — and to the detriment of everybody, there’s no fully-automated luxury gay space communism this time; it’s christian nationalism and radical capitalist exploitation for all; sure hope nobody beats your kid to death for being trans, but if they do, hey, thoughts and prayers, right? all part of white American god’s plan, like mass shootings! — raging for the next three minutes before subsiding into a humming drone, piano and violin, with the already-noted static and noise behind, outlasting like some vague notion of justice and rightness the existence of which, sadly, isn’t enough to make it real. This is a hard, mean, world. Among its few saving graces: records like this one that go through it with you.
The story of the album is unavoidably the shift from SubRosa to The Otolith, and it may be another record or two — touring, obviously, if that’s a thing that might happen — before The Otolith are more distinguished from the majority of its members’ prior group, but clearly part of what’s being accomplished here is to continue that creative growth as a unit and the aesthetic statement that made SubRosa‘s swansong, 2016’s For This We Fought the Battle of Ages (review here), a landmark for them as well as for post-metal across the board, while exploring new expressive avenues. They succeed in that, readily.
And that they’re doing that work at all is one of Folium Limina‘s greatest strengths as a debut album — it’s almost unfair to call it one; four-fifths of this band isn’t a new band — but it’s the clear sense of purpose, of creating meaning in a time when even the definition of what’s real around us has become a partisan void, when as a species we’re beaten by disease and dismay both and the only ones who seem to have any strength left are the villains, that ultimately positions it as such a thing of beauty. An idea planted in troubled, near-poisonous ground, that has blossomed into something sad but beautiful.
In the interest of complete disclosure, Folium Limina was issued first as an exclusive for Blues Funeral‘s PostWax vinyl subscription service, for which I do the liner notes and am (theoretically, if I ever get to send Jadd my Paypal) compensated. This review was written after discussions with the band, and if you have that version and have read those notes — first, thanks — and second, the story of the album there is somewhat different than here. I’ll put that up to living with Folium Limina longer, hearing it differently, and the fact that listening to great records isn’t a thing that happens and then you put them away; they’re art you experience, and your impressions and an album’s realizations can both change with time and context. In any case, I’m not just repeating the liner notes here because that was their tale to tell about the songs and this is mine — on a procedural level, no one else is approving drafts of a review before it’s published, as evidenced by all the likely typos, half-thoughts and grammatical errors — even if I’m the wordy bastard whose name is on both. Still, compelled to mention it by some in-the-end-meaningless notion of integrity, so it’s been mentioned now. Diligence done.
Given that, and given that The Otolith took on the challenge of writing an album that’s (at least in part) about being absolutely battered by the world around you while waking up to face another day of it and still managed to make it sound not like a drag is emblematic of the roots they’re expanding from and the expansion itself; the effort and the work, then and now. Folium Limina is by no means an easy listen, but these are not easy times, and while it feels like the very gravity of the planet is working to rip the air out of your lungs and take your breath from you, let it be art for salvation. Sing no coda. This is no end.
