Quarterly Review: Bongzilla, Trevor’s Head, Vorder, Inherus, Sonic Moon, Slow Wake, The Fierce and the Dead, Mud Spencer, Kita, Embargo
Posted in Reviews on July 17th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
Well here we are, at last. A couple weeks ago I looked at my calendar and ended up pushing this Quarterly Review to mid-July instead of the end of June, and it’s been hanging over my head in the interim to such a degree that I added two days to it to cover another 20 records. I’m sure it could be more. The amount of music is infinite. It just keeps going.
I’ll assume you know the deal, but here it is anyhow: 10 records per day, for seven days — Monday through Friday, plus Monday and Tuesday in this case — for a total of 70 reviews. Links and audio provided to the extent possible, and hopefully we all find some killer new music we didn’t know about before, or if we did know about it, just to enjoy. That doesn’t seem so crazy, right?
Quarterly Review #1-10:
Bongzilla, Dab City
None higher. Following extensive touring before and (to the extent possible) after the release of their 2021 album, Weedsconsin (review here), Madison, WI, canna-worship crust sludge-launchers Bongzilla return with Dab City, proffering the harsh and the mellow as only they seem to be able to do, even among their ’90s-born original-era sludge brethren. As second track “King of Weed” demonstrates, Bongzilla are aurally dank unto themselves, both in the scathing vocals of bassist Mike “Muleboy” Makela and the layered guitar of Jeff “Spanky” Schultz and the slow-swinging groove shoving all that weighted tone forward in Mike “Magma” Henry‘s drums. Through the seven tracks and 56 minutes of dense jams like those in the opening title-cut or the 13-minute “Cannonbong (The Ballad of Burnt Reynolds as Lamented by Dixie Dave Collins” (yes, from Weedeater) or the gloriously languid finale “American Pot,” the shorter instrumental “C.A.R.T.S.,” or in the relatively uptempo nodders “Hippie Stick” and “Diamonds and Flower,” Bongzilla underscore the if-you-get-it-then-you-get-it nature of their work, at once extreme in its bite and soothing in atmosphere, uncompromising in purpose. I’m not going to tell you to get bombed out of your gourd and listen, but they almost certainly did while making it, and Dab City is nothing if not an invitation to that party.
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Trevor’s Head, A View From Below
Adventures await as Redhill, UK, three-piece Trevor’s Head — guitarist/vocalist Roger Atkins, bassist/vocalist/synthesist Aaron Strachan (also kalimba), drummer/flutist/vocalist/synthesist Matt Ainsworth (also Mellotron) — signal a willfully open and progressive creativity through the heavy psych and grunge melodies of lead track “Call of the Deep” before the Primus-gone-fuzz-prog chug of “Under My Skin” and the somehow-English-pastoral “Grape Fang” balances on its multi-part harmonies and loose-feeling movement, side A trading between shorter and longer songs to end with the seven-minute, violin-inclusive folk-then-fuzz-folk highlight “Elio” before “Rumspringa” brings the proceedings to ground as only cowbell might. As relatively straight-ahead as the trio get there or in the more pointedly aggressive shover “A True Gentleman” on the other side of the Tool-ish noodling and eat-this-riff of “What Got Stuck” (answer: the thrashy gallop before the final widdly-widdly solo, in my head), they never want for complexity, and as much as it encapsulates in its depth of arrangement and linear course, closer “Don’t Make Me Ask” represents the band perhaps even more in looking forward rather than back on what was just accomplished, building on what 2018’s Soma Holiday (review here) hinted at stylistically and mindfully evolving their sound.
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Vorder, False Haven
Born in the ’90s as Amend, turned more extreme as V and now perhaps beginning a new era as Vorder — pronounced “vee-order” — the Dalarna, Sweden, unit return with a new rhythm section behind founding guitarists Jonas Gryth (also Unhealer) and Andreas Baier (also Besvärjelsen, Afgrund, and so on) featuring bassist Marcus Mackä Lindqvist (Blodskam, Lýsis) and drummer Daniel Liljekvist (ex-Katatonia, In Mourning, Grand Cadaver, etc.) on drums, the invigorated four-piece greet a dark dawn with due presence on False Haven, bringing Baier‘s Besvärjelsen bandmate Lea Amling Alazam for guest vocals on “The Few Remaining Lights,” which seems to be consumed after its melodic opening into a lurching and organ-laced midsection like Entombed after the Isis-esque ambience of post-apocalyptic mourning in “Introspective” and “Beyond the Horizon of Life.” Beauty and darkness are not new themes for Vorder, even if False Haven is their first release under the name, and even in the bleak ‘n’ roll of the title-track there’s still room for hope if you define hope as tambourine. Which you probably should. The penultimate “Judgement Awaits” interrupts floating post-doom with vital shove and 10:32 finale “Come Undone” provides a resonant melodic answer to “The Few Remaining Lights” while paying off the album as a whole in patience, heft and fullness. Vorder use microgenres like a polyglot might switch languages, but what’s expressed from the entirety of the work is utterly their own, whatever name they use.
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Inherus, Beholden
Multi-instrumentalist Beth Gladding (also of Forlesen, Botanist, Lotus Thief, etc.) shares vocal duties in New York’s Inherus with bassist Anthony DiBlasi (ex-Witchkiss) and fellow guitarist/synthesist Brian Harrigan (Grid, Swallow the Ocean), and the harsh/clean dynamic puts emphasis on the various textures presented throughout the band’s debut album. Completed by drummer Andrew Vogt (Lotus Thief, Swallow the Ocean), Inherus reach toward SubRosan melancholy on “Forgotten Kingdom,” which begins the hour-flat/six-track 2LP, and they follow with harmonies and grandeur to spare on “One More Fire” (something in that melody reminds me of Indigo Girls and I’m noting it because I can’t get my head away from it; not complaining) and “The Dagger,” which resolves in Amenra-style squibble and lurch without giving up its emotional depth. “Oh Brother” crushes enough to make one wonder where the line truly is between metal and post-metal, and the setup for closer “Lie to the Angels” in the drone-plus piece “Obliterated in the Face of the Gods” telegraphs the intensity to follow if not the progginess of that particular chug or the scope of what follows. Vogt signals the arrival at the album’s crescendo with stately but fast double-kick, and if you’re wondering who gets the last word, it’s feedback. Beholden may prove formative as Inherus move forward, but what their first full-length lays out as their stylistic range is at least as impressive as it is ambitious. Hope for more to come.
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Sonic Moon, Return Without Any Memory
Even in the second half of “Tying Up the Noose” as it leads into “Give it Time” — which is about as speedy as Sonic Moon get on their Olde Magick Records-delivered first LP, Return Without Any Memory — they’re in no particular hurry. The overarching languid pace across the Aarhus five-piece’s 41-minute/seven-tracker — which reuses only the title-track from 2019’s Usually I Don’t Care for Flowers EP — makes it hypnotic even in its most active moments, but whether it’s the Denmarkana acoustic moodiness of centerpiece “Through the Snow,” the steady nod of “Head Under the River” later or the post-All Them Witches psych-blues conveyed in opener “The Waters,” Sonic Moon are able to conjure landscapes from fuzzed tonality that could just as easily have been put to use for traditional doom as psych-leaning heavy rock, uniting the songs through that same fuzz and the melody of the vocals as “Head Under the River” spaces out ahead of its slowdown or “Hear Me Now” eschews the huge finish in favor of a more unassuming, gentler letting go, indicative of the thoughtfulness behind their craft and their presentation of the material. Familiar enough on paper and admirably, unpretentiously itself, the self-recorded Return Without Any Memory discovers its niche and comes across as being right at home in it. A welcome debut.
Olde Magick Records on Bandcamp
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Slow Wake, Falling Fathoms
With cosmic doom via YOB meeting with progressive heavy rock à la Elder or Louisiana rollers Forming the Void and an undercurrent of metal besides in the chug and double-kick of “Controlled Burn,” Cleveland’s Slow Wake make their full-length debut culling together songs their 2022 Falling Fathoms EP and adding the prior-standalone “Black Stars” for 12 minutes’ worth of good measure at the end. The dense and jangly tones at the start of the title-track (where it’s specifically “Marrow”-y) or “In Waves” earlier on seem to draw more directly from Mike Scheidt‘s style of play, but “Relief” builds from its post-rocking outset to grow furious over its first few minutes headed toward a payoff that’s melody as much as crunch. “Black Stars” indulges a bit more psychedelic repetition, which could be a sign of things to come or just how it worked out on that longer track, but Slow Wake lay claim to significant breadth regardless, and have the structural complexity to work in longer forms without losing themselves either in jams or filler. With a strong sense of its goals, Falling Fathoms puts Slow Wake on a self-aware trajectory of growth in modern prog-heavy style. That is, they know what they’re doing and they know why. To show that alone on a first record makes it a win. Their going further lets you know to keep an eye out for next time as well.
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The Fierce and the Dead, News From the Invisible World
Unearthing a bit of earlier-Queens of the Stone Age compression fuzz in the start-stop riff of “Shake the Jar” is not even scratching the surface as regards textures put to use by British progressive heavies The Fierce and the Dead on their fourth album, News From the Invisible World. Comprised of eight songs varied in mood and textures around a central ethic clearly intent on not sounding any more like anyone else than it has to, the collection is the first release from the band to feature vocals. Those are handled ably by bassist Kev Feazey, but it’s telling as to the all-in nature of the band that, in using singing for the first time, they employ no fewer than six guest vocalists, mostly but not exclusively on opener/intro “The Start.” From there, it’s a wild course through keyboard/synth-fed atmospheres on pieces like the Phil Collins-gone-heavy “Photogenic Love” and its side-B-capping counterpart “Nostalgia Now,” which ends like friendlier Godflesh, astrojazz experimentalism on “Non-Player,” and plenty of fuzz in “Golden Thread,” “Wonderful,” “What a Time to Be Alive,” and so on, though where a song starts is not necessarily where it’s going to end up. Given Feazey‘s apparent comfort with the task before him, it’s a wonder they didn’t make this shift earlier, but they do well in making up for lost time.
The Fierce and the Dead on Facebook
Spencer Park Music on Facebook
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Mud Spencer, Kliwon
Kliwon is the second offering from Indonesia-based meditative psych exploration unit Mud Spencer to be released through Argonauta Records after 2022’s Fuzz Soup (review here), and its four component songs find France-born multi-instrumentalist Rodolphe Bellugue (also Proots, Bedhunter, etc.) constructing material of marked presence and fluidity. Opener “Suzzanna” is halfway through its nine minutes before the drums start. “Ratu Kidul” is 16 minutes of mindful breathing (musically speaking) as shimmering guitar melody pokes out from underneath the surrounding ethereal wash, darker in tone but more than just bleak. Of course “Dead on the Heavy Funk” reminds of Mr. Bungle as it metal-chugs and energetically weirds out. And the just under 16-minute “Jasmin Eater” closes out with organ and righteous fuzz bass peppered with flourish details on guitar and languid drumming, becoming heavier and consuming as it moves toward the tempo kick that’s the apex of the album. Through these diverse tracks, an intimate psychedelic persona emerges, even without vocals, and Mud Spencer continues to look inward for expanses to be conveyed before doing precisely that.
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Kita, Tyhjiö
It would seem that in the interim between 2021’s Ocean of Acid EP and this five-song/41-minute debut full-length, Tyhjiö, Finnish psychedelic death-doomers Kita traded English lyrics for those in their native Finnish. No, I don’t speak it, but that hardly matters in the chant-like chorus of the title-track or the swirling pummel that surrounds as the band invent their own microgenre, metal-rooted and metal in affect, but laced with synth and able to veer into lysergic guitar atmospherics in the 10-minute opener “Kivi Puhuu” or the acoustic-led (actually it’s bass-led, but still) midsection leading to the triumphant chorus of bookending closer “Ataraksia,” uniting disparate ideas through strength of craft, tonal and structural coherence, and, apparently, sheer will. The title-track, “Torajyvä” and “Kärpässilmät,” with the centerpiece cut as the shortest, make for a pyramid-style presentation (broader around its base), but Kita are defined by what they do, drawing extremity from countrymen like Swallow the Sun or Amorphis, among others, and turning it into something of their own. Striking in the true sense of: it feels like being punched. But punched while you hang out on the astral plane.
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Embargo, High Seas
Greek fuzz alert! Heavy rocking three-piece Embargo hail from Thessaloniki with their first long-player, High Seas, using winding aspects of progressive metal to create tension in the starts and stops of “Billow,” “EAT” and “Candy” as spoken verses in the latter and “Alanna Finch” draw a line between the moody noise rock of Helmet, the grunge it informed, and the heavy rock that emerged (in part) from that. Running 10 tracks and 44 minutes, High Seas is quick in marking out the smoothness of its low tonality, and it veers into and out of what one might consider aggression in terms of style, “with 22 22” thoughtfully composed and sharply pointed in kind, one of several instrumentals to offset some of the gruffer stretches or a more patient melodic highlight like “Draupner,” which does little to hide its affinity for Soundgarden and is only correct to showcase it. They also finish sans-vocals in the title-track, and there’s almost a letting-loose sense to “High Seas” itself, shaking out some shuffle in the first half before peaking in the second. Greece is among Europe’s most packed and vibrant undergrounds, and with High Seas, Embargo begin to carve their place within it.
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