It doesn’t seem out of line to think of Sacri Monti as survivors of the San Diego heavy rock/psych scene, which is also to say that not everybody has lasted so long who circa 2015/2016 was ripping it up in what had become arguably the most vital underground in the US. And they were never the flashiest band — that was and remains a flashy scene — but they’ve put out two quality records in their 2015 self-titled debut (review here) and 2019’s Waiting Room for the Magic Hour (review here), and toured domestically and internationally to support, going about their business in almost defiantly unpretentious fashion.

Their music is not arrogant, for all its ’70s-derived swing and strut, the swirling and shredding guitars of Brenden Dellar and Dylan Donovan, Evan Wenskay‘s organ right alongside to drive the apex of “Staggered in Lies,” which also began the first LP, as it opens Live at Sonic Whip MMXXII, their first official live album. Even as they hit that crescendo, the song becoming an upward sweeping churnfest, guitars in freakout mode as bassist Anthony Meier and drummer Thomas Dibenedetto hold it together in forward movement. “Staggered in Lies” ends with a semi-big crashing rocker finish, not overdoing it, and Dellar, who’d said hello to Nijmegen before the song started as well, says, “Thank you. We’re Sacri Monti from San Diego, California.”

And so they are. Live at Sonic Whip MMXXII (on Sonic Whip/Burning World Records) is the third live release to come from the 2022 edition of the Dutch Spring festival, behind offerings from Kaleidobolt and Elephant Tree, so clearly recording the fest is producing the desired result. With a mix and master by Scott “Dr. Space” Heller (also Øresund Space Collective, Black Moon Circle, etc.) at Éstudio Paraíso, the wubbing impression made as the synth swallows the quiet guitar at the start of “Staggered in Lies” doesn’t feel like a coincidence, but there is clarity in among the stems, and way the organ emerges solo from the power-shuffle intro to new song “Immediate Death” is duly churchified. Clearly this is the magic hour they’ve been waiting for.

“Immediate Death” is one of two new inclusions, with “Desirable Sequel” later on, and has a proggy enough bounce to its verse to earn an Astra comparison, flourish of lead guitar carrying through under the verse, which is vintage wistful heavy rock of the sort Led Zeppelin could make believable and repeated depressive lyrics, “Running through this world on empty,” it sounds like the song is reassuring itself when Dellar follows with, “Trying to do the best I can.” It moves into a quick run to cap, and after, there’s a natural pause perhaps to tune up. That’s a detail not always worth keeping, but having it here makes the shift into the mellow start of “Fear and Fire” feel that much more organic. So maybe Sacri Monti aren’t the biggest bunch of showoffs ever to come out of San Diego. I don’t think you could see them live or hear them twist their way around “Fear and Fire” on Live at Sonic Whip MMXXII and not come away thinking they’re hot shit nonetheless.

It’s a rare thing for a live album to work well on headphones, by which I mean that ‘live albums,’ as a general category, can vary widely in terms of the character or flatness of their sound and the general quality of the recording — it’s off the board, fine, but mixing, mastering, and so on — before you factor in something like the actual performance. Live at Sonic Whip MMXXII has dimension enough to its execution that elements like the fluid kickdrum as “Fear and Fire” gives over directly to “Armistice” as the second in a three-song salvo completed by “Starlight” that appears in the set in the same order as on side A Waiting Room for the Magic Hour.

Particularly fiery is “Armistice” as it reminds that the prog lean showing itself in “Immediate Death” isn’t entirely new in Sacri Monti‘s aural playbook and cymbal washes into the languid groove at the outset of “Starlight,” gorgeous and bluesy and, again, worth hearing in detail as the keys and one of the guitars shift to the verse while the other guitar continues the spaceout under the vocals. Compared to some from San Diego and elsewhere, I’ve never really thought of Sacri Monti as a vintage or retro band. They’ve never touted antique recording technics or fancy costs-as-much-as-a-car amplifiers, though they might have both, but on “Starlight” especially and “Winter” to come, Live at Sonic Whip MMXXII has a vibe that’s way more MCMLXXII, which works to its benefit and adds to the vitality of the show itself. It must have been a hell of a set to see, but they sound like a band actively coming into their own touring around Europe, not yet old enough to be jaded about it (much) and about to put out a third album that will be a defining moment.

The second of the new songs, “Desirable Sequel” calls to mind some of Deep Purple‘s balladeering — as I guess it inevitably would — but has a trippy comedown after its verse and chorus that recalls the quiet start and builds to the live album’s most fervent thrust before the band lines up for cascading downward crashes for a false ending and turning back to end “Desirable Sequel” with a final chorus and instrumental run. Maybe they are flashy. Maybe they are arrogant. Maybe it’s just all in the music. Fair enough if so, as they take on “Winter” by rediscovered original-era heavy rockers Iron Claw with its memorable line of lead guitar and spaciousness to fill out in the midsection, a surge of volume and another controlled-cacophony finish not far behind. When the guitar stops, you can hear some whistling as Meier starts the bassline of 11-minute closer “Sacri Monti,” and there’s cheering at the end, but otherwise the crowd isn’t really the point here so much as the performance itself, and in that, “Sacri Monti” arrives like a victory lap (not on the vinyl), perhaps some sense of exhale after the new song and the cover back to back as they return to a comfortable, signature piece from their debut — it’s the band’s eponymous song and it’s closing the set, safe bet they know it pretty well — and explore some reaches around its well-established central groove.

Dellar offers the quick reminder, “Thanks, we’re Sacri Monti,” as they presumably begin breaking down pedal boards and keyboards and such and leaving the stage. In an hour-long set though, Sacri Monti put forth a vision of themselves as the veteran act they may yet become, mature and poised, experienced on the road and with a chemistry born out of that between players. They’re not the type of act to be out there selling themselves as a product on social media, and as dug-in as they get on Live at Sonic Whip MMXXII, they’re never any more indulgent than the song needs them to be. They perform with class, distinction and purpose, and I come away from hearing this with a really good feeling about their next studio full-length and an appreciation for the moment they’ve captured here.

Sacri Monti, Live in France, May 15, 2022

Sacri Monti on Facebook

Sacri Monti on Instagram

Sacri Monti on Bandcamp

Sacri Monti store

Sacri Monti on Soundcloud

Burning World Records on Facebook

Burning World Records on Bandcamp

Burning World Records USA store

Burning World Records website

I’ll be honest with you, I’m just doing myself a favor here. To me, this is just a little bit of time out of my day — surely wretched otherwise — that I get to listen to Slomatics. Yeah, vinyl reissues? That’s cool. You know Burning World does good work, so it’s not gonna be a shitty product, and if you don’t have 2019’s Canyons (review here) or 2016’s Future Echo Returns (review here), surely that’s a thing that can and should be rectified given the opportunity, but, well, I do have those records — CDs, anyhow, which suits me just fine — and I’m perfectly content to put on Canyons for a couple minutes while I put this together.

No, it’s not the most urgent news ever. It’s their two most recent albums being re-pressed on neato-looking vinyl ahead of the band recording their next one. The Belfast-based trio also released a split with Domkraft (review here) in April on Majestic Mountain Records — surely one of 2022’s best short releases — and I was fortunate enough to see them twice in Europe this year, at Freak Valley in Germany (review here) and at Høstsabbat in Norway (review here), where the photo below was taken. They murdered that basement. It was glorious.

They’ve got one more show this year in Iceland on Dec. 2, and aside from starting a GoFundMe to fly in for the night, I sincerely doubt I’ll be there to catch it, but I have every confidence they’ll deliver. I’ve never seen them do otherwise, and I look forward to probably slathering all over their next offering later in 2023 when it comes out.

Most of all, a couple minutes of Canyons made my morning a little better just now, and that’s something I welcome.

From Bandcamp or wherever:

After being out of print for several years, we are delighted to re-issue both Future Echo Returns and Canyons through the amazing Burning World records. We are stoked to be working with Jurgen again! Both records are available on a choice of colour and splatter vinyl, and both come with the original gatefold sleeves. We are recording our next full album early next year, so now is as good a time as any to re-visit these two!

You can buy as single albums, we’ve also added a few bundle deals on Bandcamp.

Buy directly from us on Bandcamp , we will post worldwide: slomatics.bandcamp.com/merch

There is also Euro distro through Burning World Record website and US distro outside of Bandcamp which might work for folks over here.

Canyons US Distro
roadburnrecordsusa.bigcartel.com/product/slomatics-canyons-lp

Future Echo Returns US Distro
roadburnrecordsusa.bigcartel.com/product/slomatics-future-echo-returns-lp-electric-breath-or-estromicon-vinyl

Slomatics are:
Marty Harvey – Drums, keys, vocals
Chris Couzens – Guitar
David Majury – Guitar

https://www.instagram.com/slomatics/
http://www.facebook.com/Slomatics/
https://slomatics.bandcamp.com/
https://slomatics.com/

https://www.burningworldrecords.com
https://burningworldrecords.bandcamp.com
https://www.facebook.com/burningworldrecords

Slomtics, Canyons (2019)

Slomatics, Future Echo Returns (2016)

Can’t argue with death-doom in winter, sorry. Celestial Season earlier this year released Mysterium I (review here) as the first installment of a purported trilogy and just the second outing since 2020’s The Secret Teachings (review here) brought them back from a 20-year studio drought. Nothing like hitting it hard once you hit it. The seven-piece outfit will issue Mysterium II on Dec. 2 as the second chapter in this series with the third and final collection presumably to follow sometime in 2023. How’s June sound? Good?

Preorders are up through Bandcamp if you like to handle these things early, and if you kept up with Celestial Season‘s return to this point, I’m just going to assume that applies to you.

Behold, the PR wire:

Celestial Season – Dutch Doom-Metal Group Announce New Album “Mysterium II”

Reveal New Track “Pictures of Endless Beauty / Copper Sunset”

Preorder: https://celestialseason.bandcamp.com/album/mysterium-ii

Fall 2022 sees Dutch doom-metal pioneers Celestial Season returning with the second release of the Mysterium trilogy, ‘Mysterium II’, which follows the first album ‘Mysterium I’ released earlier this year via Burning World Records.

Set for release on December 2nd once again via Burning World Records, ‘Mysterium II’ dives further into the more funeral and melancholic side of Celestial Season, songs which are reminiscent of their 1994 demo leading up to the ’95 classic ‘Solar Lovers’, with a greater focus on long violin and cello interludes woven in with the signature Celestial Season twin guitar melodies. Pre-orders are now available at this location: https://celestialseason.bandcamp.com/album/mysterium-ii

The leading single “Pictures of Endless Beauty” is now playing along with a cover version of Cathedral’s classic tune “Copper Sunset” from the “Hopkins (The Witchfinder General)” EP.

“Lyrically “Pictures of Endless Beauty” deals with the majestic beauty of the universe, as humanity steps into a more virtual world, oblivious to the infinite beauty that lies in the real world before them. The lyrics also focuses on one of the Hermetic principles of ‘As Above, So Below’.” Says the band about this new track.

“Musically “Pictures of Endless Beauty” is inspired by the true masters of Death/Doom ‘Cathedral’. Celestial Season is often blindly coupled to the Peaceville 3 but for composer Jason Kohnen, “Pictures of Endless Beauty” is an ode to ‘Forest of Equilibrium’ which laid the foundation to a big part of his personal and Celestial’s sound. The Cathedral ‘side B’ track ‘Copper Sunset’, appears at the end of the “Pictures of Endless Beauty” as tribute to Gary Jennings’ amazing songwriting.”

Formed in the early nineties, the Dutch group attained international acclaim with their first two full-length albums, “Forever Scarlet Passion” from 1993 and “Solar Lovers” from 1995, both still regarded as seminal doom-metal releases right next to Anathema’s “Serenades”, Paradise Lost’s “Gothic” and My Dying Bride’s “Turn Loose the Swans”.

A mix of the “Forever Scarlet Passion” line-up and “Solar Lovers” line-up re-grouped to create what they labelled as the ‘Doom Era’ line-up; with Stefan Ruiters back on vocals, Lucas van Slegtenhorst on bass, Olly Smit and Pim van Zanen on guitars, Jason Köhnen on drums and Jiska Ter Bals back on violin and Elianne Anemaat on cello.

Together, they’ve created and recorded “The Secret Teachings”, an hour-long musical journey that perfectly recaptured the magic and splendour of their early years. Now the Mysterium trilogy follows the same path, delivering a poignant and melancholic doom-metal that cements Celestial Season status as one of the best European doom-metal bands.

Tracklist:
1. The Divine Duty Of Servants
2. Tomorrow Mourning
3. Our Nocturnal Love
4. In April Darkness
5. The Sun The Moon And The Truth
6. Pictures Of Endless Beauty – Copper Sunset

Celestial Season:
Stefan Ruiters – vocals
Olly Smit – guitars
Pim van Zanen – guitars
Lucas van Slegtenhorst – bass
Jiska Ter Bals – violins
Elianne Anemaat – cello
Jason Köhnen – drums/various

https://www.facebook.com/CelestialSeason
https://celestialseason.bandcamp.com/

https://www.burningworldrecords.com
https://burningworldrecords.bandcamp.com
https://www.facebook.com/burningworldrecords

Celestial Season, Mysterium I (2022)

Week two, day one. Day six. However you look at it, it’s 10 more records for the Summer 2022 Quarterly Review, and that’s all it needs to be. I sincerely hope you had a good weekend and you arrive ready to dig into new music, most of which you’ve probably already encountered — because you’re cool like that and I know it — but maybe some you haven’t. In any case, there’s good stuff today and plenty more to come this week, so bloody hell, let’s get to it.

Quarterly Review #51-60:

Celestial Season, Mysterium I

After confirming their return via 2020’s striking The Secret Teachings (review here), Netherlands-based death-doom innovators Celestial Season embark on an ambitious trilogy of full-lengths with Mysterium I, which starts with its longest song (immediate points) in the heavy-hitting single “Black Water Rising,” but is more willing to offer string-laced beauty in darkness in songs like “The Golden Light of Late Day,” which transitions fluidly into “Sundown Transcends Us.” That latter cut, third of seven total on the 40-minute LP, provides some small hint of the band’s more rock-minded days, but the affair is plenty grim on the whole, whatever slightly-more-uptempo riffy nod might’ve slipped through. “This Glorious Summer” hits the brakes for a morose slog, while “Endgame” casts it lot in more aggressive speed at first, dropping to strings for much of its second half before returning to the deathly chug. The pair “All That is Known” and “Mysterium” close in massive and lurching form, and not that there was any doubt about this group 30 years on from the band’s founding, but yeah, they still got it. No worries. The next two parts are reportedly due before the end of next year, and one looks forward to knowing where the rest of the story-in-sound goes from here. If it’s down, they’re already there.

Celestial Season on Facebook

Burning World Records website

—

 

Noorvik, Hamartia

Post. Metal. Also post-metal. The third full-length from Koln-based instrumental four-piece Noorvik, Hamartia, glides smoothly between atmosphere and aggression, the band’s purposes revealed as much in their quiet moments as in those where the guitar comes forward and present a more furious face. In the subdued reaches of “Ambrosia” (10:00) or even opener “Tantalos” (6:55), the feeling is still tense, to where over the course of the record’s 68 minutes, you’re almost waiting for the kick to come, which it reliably does, but the form that takes varies in subtle ways and the bleeding of songs into each other like “Omonoia” into “Ambrosia” — which crushes by the time it’s done — the delving into proggy astro-jazz on “Aeon” and the reaching heights of “Atreides” (which TV tells me is a Dune reference) assure that there’s more than one path that gets Noorvik to where they’re going. At 15:42, “The Feast” is arguably the most bombastic and the most ambient both, but if that’s top and bottom, the spaces in between are no less coursing, and in their willingness to be metal while also being post-metal, Noorvik bring excitement to a style that’s made a trope of its hyper-cerebral nature. This has that and might also wreck your house, and if you don’t think that’s a big difference, ask your house.

Noorvik on Facebook

Tonzonen Records website

—

 

Doctors of Space, Mind Surgery

Wait. What? You mean to tell me that right now there are some people in the world who aren’t about to dig on 78 minutes’ worth of improvised psychedelic synth and guitar drones? Like, real people? In the world? What kind of terrible planet is this? Obviously, for Doctors of Space — Scott “Dr. Space” Heller (Øresund Space Collective) on synth, Martin Weaver (Wicked Lady) on guitar — this planet is nowhere near cool enough, and while it’s fortunate for the cosmos at large that once shared, these sounds have launched into the broader reaches of the solar system where they’ll travel as waves to be interpreted by some future civilization perhaps millions of years from now that evolved on a big silly rock a long, long way from here and those people will finally be the audience Doctors of Space richly deserve. But on Earth? Beyond a few loyal weirdos, I don’t know. And no, Doctors of Space aren’t shooting for mass appeal so much as interstellar manifestation through sound, but they do break out the drum machine on 23-minute closer “Titular Parody” to add a sense of ground amid all that antigravity float. Nonetheless, Mind Surgery is far out even for far out. If you think you’re up to it, get your head in the right mode first, because they might just open that thing up by the time they’re done.

Doctors of Space on Facebook

Space Rock Productions website

—

 

Astral Pigs, Our Golden Twilight

Pull Astral Pigs‘ second album, Our Golden Twilight, out of the context of the band’s penchant for vintage exploitation horror and porn and the record’s actually pretty cool. The title-track and slower-rolling “Brass Skies/Funeral March” top seven minutes in succession following instrumental opener “Irina Karlstein,” and spend that time in nod-inducement that goes from catchy-and-kinda-slow to definitely-slow-and-catchy before the long stretch of organ starts the at least semi-acoustic “The Sigil” and “Dragonflies” renews the density of lumbering fuzz, the English-language lyrics from the Argentina-based four-piece giving a duly ceremonious feel to the doomly drama unfolding, but long song or shorter, their vibe is right on and well in league with DHU Records‘ ongoing fascination with aural cultistry. The Hammond provided by bassist/producer Fabricio Pieroni isn’t to be ignored for what it brings to the songs, but even just on the strength of their guitar and bass tones and the mood they conjure throughout, Our Golden Twilight, though just 25 minutes long, unquestionably flows like a full-length record.

Astral Pigs on Facebook

DHU Records store

—

 

Carson, The Wilful Pursuit of Ignorance

No question, Carson have learned their lessons well, and I’ll admit, it’s been a while since a basically straightforward, desert-derived heavy rock record hit me with such an impression of songwriting as does their second full-length, The Wilful Pursuit of Ignorance. Issued through Sixteentimes Music, the eight-track/36-minute outing from the Lucerne-via-New-Zealand-based unit plays off influences like Kyuss, Helmet (looking at you, title-track), Dozer, Unida, and so on, and honest to goodness, it’s refreshing to hear a band so ready and willing to just kick ass musically. Not saying that an album with a title like this doesn’t have anything deeper to say, just that Carson make their offering without even a smidgeon of pretense about where they’re coming from, and from opener “Dirty Dream Maker” onward, their melody, their groove, their transitions and sharper turns are right on. It’s classic heavy rock, done impeccably well, made modern. A work of genre that argues in favor of itself and the style as a whole. If you were introducing someone to riff-based heavy, Carson would do the trick just fine.

Carson on Facebook

Sixteentimes Music website

—

 

Isaurian, Deep Sleep Metaphysics

Comprised of vocalist Hoanna Aragão, guitarist/vocalist Jorge Rabelo (also keys, co-production, etc.), guitarist Guilerme Tanner, bassist Renata Marim and drummer Roberto Tavares, Brazil’s Isaurian adapt post-rock patience and atmospheric guitar methods to a melody-fueled heavy purpose. Production value is an asset working in their favor on their second full-length, Deep Sleep Metaphysics, and seems to be a consistent factor throughout their work since Matt Bayles and Rhys Fulber produced their first two EPs in 2017. Here it’s Muriel Curi (Labirinto) and Chris Common (Pelican, many others), who bring a decided sense of space that’s measurable from the locale difference in Aragão‘s and Rabelo‘s vocal levels from opener “Árida” onward. Their intensions vary throughout — “For Hypnos” has “everybody smokes pot”-esque gang chants near its finish, “The Dream to End All Dreams” is a piano-inclusive guitar-flourish instrumental, “Autumn Eyes” is duly mellow and brooding, “Hearts and Roads” delivers culmination in a brighter melodic wash ahead of a bonus Curi remix of the opener — but it’s the melodic nuance and the clarity of sound that pull the songs together and distinguish the band. They’ve been tagged as “heavygaze” and various other ‘-gaze’ whathaveyou, and they borrow from that, but their drive toward fidelity of sound makes them something else entirely. They should tour Europe asap.

Isaurian on Instagram

Isaurian on Bandcamp

—

 

Kadavermarch, Into Oblivion

Hints of Kadavermarch‘s metallic origins — members having served in Helhorse, Illdisposed, as well as the Danish hip-hop group Tudsegammelt, and others — sneak into their songs both in the more upfront manner of harsher backing vocals on “The Eschaton” and the subsequent “Abyss,” and in some of the double-guitar work throughout, though their first album, Into Oblivion, sets their loyalties firmly in heavy rock. Uncle Acid may be an influence in terms of vocal melody, but the riffs throughout cuts like “Satanic” and “Reefer Madness” and the galloping “Flowering Death” are bigger and feel drawn in part from acts like The Sword and Baroness, delivered with a sharp edge. It’s a fascinating blend, and the recording on Into Oblivion lets it shine with a palpable band-in-the-room sensibility and stage-style energy, while still allowing enough breadth for a build like that in the finale “Beyond the End” to pay off the record as a whole. Capable craft, a sound on its way to being their own, a turquoise vinyl pressing, and a pedigree to boot — there’s nothing more I would ask of Into Oblivion. It feels like an opening salvo for a longer-term progression and I hope it is precisely that.

Kadavermarch on Facebook

Target Group on Bandcamp

—

 

Büzêm, Here

The violence implied in the title “Regurgitated Ambition Consuming Itself” takes the form of a harsh wall of noise drone that, once it starts, continues to unfurl for the just-under-eight-minute duration of the first of two pieces on Büzêm‘s more simply named Here EP. The Portland, Maine, solo art project of bassist/anythingelse-ist Finn has issued a range of exploratory outings, mostly EPs and experiments put to tape, and that modus very much suits the avant vibe throughout Here, which is markedly less caustic in the more rumbling “In an Attempt to Become the Creator” — presumably about Jackson Roykirk — the 10 minutes of which are more clearly the work of a standalone bass guitar, but play out with a sense of the human presence behind, as perhaps was the intention. Here‘s stated purpose is meditative if disaffected, Finn turning mindfulness into an already-in-progress armageddon display, and fair enough, but the found recording at the end, or captured footsteps, whatever it is, relate intentions beyond the use of a single instrument. Not ever going to be universally accessible, nonetheless pushing the kind of boundaries of what’s-a-song that need to be pushed.

Büzêm on Facebook

BÜZÊM on Bandcamp

—

 

Electric Mountain, Valley Giant

Can’t mess with this kind of heavy rock and roll. The fuzz runs thick, the groove is loose (not sloppy), and the action is go from start to finish. Electric Mountain‘s second LP, Valley Giant digs on classic desert-style heavy vibes, with “Vulgar Planet” riffing on Kyuss and Fu Manchu only after “Desert Ride” has dug headfirst into Nebula via Black Rainbows and cuts like “Outlanders” and the hell-yes-wah-bass of big-nodder “Morning Grace” have set the stage for stoner and rock, by, for and about being what it is. Picking highlights, it might be “A Fistful of Grass” for the angular twists of fuzz in the chorus, but “Vulgar Planet” and the penultimate acoustic cut “At Last Everything” both make a solid case ahead of the eight-plus-minute instrumental closing jam “A Thousand Miles High.” The band’s 2017 self-titled debut (also on Electric Valley Records) was a gem as well, and if they can get some forward momentum going on their side after Valley Giant, playing shows, etc., they’d be well placed at the head of the increasingly crowded Mexico City underground.

Electric Mountain on Facebook

Electric Valley Records website

—

 

Hush, The Pornography of Ruin

Also stylized all-caps with punctuation — perhaps a voice commanding: HUSH. — Hudson, New York, five-piece Hush conjure seven songs and 56 minutes of alternately sprawling and oppressive atmospheric sludge on their third full-length, The Pornography of Ruin, and if you take that to mean the quiet parts are spaced and the heavy parts are crushing, well, that’s true too, but not exclusively the case. Amid lyrical poetry, melodic ranging, slamming rhythms — “There Can Be No Forgiveness Without the Shedding of Blood” walks by and waves, its hand bloody — and harsh shouts and screams, Hush shove, pull, bite and chew the consciousness of their listener, with the 12-minute “By This You Are Truly Known” pulling centerpiece duty with mostly whispers and ambience in a spread-out midsection, bookended by more slow-churning pummel. Followed by the shorter “And the Love of Possession is a Disease with Them,” the keyboard-as-strings “The Sound of Kindness in the Voice” and the likewise raging-till-it-isn’t-then-when-it-is-again closer “At Night We Dreamed of Those We Were Stolen From,” the consumption is complete, and The Pornography of Ruin challenges its audience with the weight of its implications and tones alike. And for whatever it’s worth, I saw these guys in Brooklyn a few years back and they fucking destroyed. They’ve expanded the sound a bit since then, but this record is a solid reminder of that force.

Hush on Instagram

Hush on Bandcamp

—

 

Admittedly, the title doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, but the thing says what it is. Having been confirmed to play the prestigious Roadburn Festival in 2020, Tau and the Drones of Praise — who mostly record in Berlin but are very much from Ireland while drawing from various other folk traditions as well — took part in the 2021 Roadburn Redux first-ever virtual edition of the fest, which for obvious and much-recounted reasons couldn’t meet in-person (they ended up playing Roadburn 2022 too).

The name they gave to the set (posted here) was ‘Tau Presents: Dream Awake,” and the concept was a special set focused spiritually and musically on past and present as much as future, new songs, new explorations of older material, and a full interpretation of what Tau and the Drones of Praise, as a project spearheaded by Seán Mulrooney, are as they head toward their impending third studio LP. Thus, Tau Presents: Dream Awake Live at Roadburn Redux is what it says it is, and its release through Burning World/Roadburn Records continues a long tradition of recorded live outings from the Tilburg-based fest, even if the avenue taken to get there is a little different.

Led by Mulrooney on vocals and guitar, the band includes guitarist/synthesist Ruairi Mac Neill Aodha, bassist Iain Faulkner, percussionist/vocalist Bob Glynn, drummer Ken Mooney and the whistle and vocals of Pól Brennan, known for his work in Clannad, who brings a distinct and suitable flair of Irish folk to “Éist le Ceol an Chré” and “Seanóirí Naofa,” the former of which will be on the next Tau record, the latter the title-track of 2019’s EP of the same name (discussed here). Roadburn Redux was the second livestream for Tau and the Drones of Praise behind a live set captured in Dublin (posted here), and though that broadcast was somewhat less ambitious as regards setting and presentation — it was in black and white, where the Roadburn stream was full color, surrounded by a more lush studio set and so on — the real difference in ambition between the two is in the scope of the music itself.

Granted, three songs from the Dublin stream feature on side D of the 2LP here, with “Craw,” “Mongolia” and “Speak Your Truth” rounding out, but here they serve as part of a broad-scope, encompassing and engrossing vision of a psychedelic-bent world-folk. From the invocation of MesoAmerican spirit guides in the leadoff “Kauyumari” amid warm melodies and fuzz guitar, call and response, harmonized ’60s rock and more, Mulrooney serves as a guide through traditions from Mexico, the Mesopotamia, Asia and Ireland, moving deftly from “Huey Tonantzin & Mother” and the Aztec-minded “Tonatiuh” into “Bridge of Khaju” (look it up, it’s gorgeous) in Iran before the nine-minute “Erasitexnis: Four Horsemen Medley” draws it together with Mediterranean flair and a vital percussive jam.

The sense of movement, of travel, isn’t to be understated. It extends to the journey the music is undertaking, but also to the entire group’s ability to move the listener from place to place, idea to idea. And it’s worth emphasizing that Tau and the Drones of Praise are not just mashing influences into songs, or cynically putting a Middle Eastern part beside an Irish folk part and calling it something else. One side or another may come to prominence in a given track, but even in pieces like the hard-science-as-philosophy “It’s Already Written,” which opened the band’s 2019 self-titled LP, or “Espiral,” which closes this set in gloriously freaked-out fashion and comes from 2016’s Tau Tau Tau where it sat directly next to “Kauyumari,” there’s a drawing together of ideas, a genuine sense of mixture as everything comes filtered through the band’s own impulses.

And oh, it’s a good time. Tau Presents: Dream Awake Live at Roadburn Redux is not at all a minor undertaking. With the Dublin tracks, it comes to a whopping 13 songs and 81 Earth minutes, but terrestrial concerns and whatever else you were doing this afternoon need not apply. Be it the incantations of “Huey Tonantzin” or hearing the song of the land in “Éist le Ceol an Chré,” the memorable boogie of “It’s Already Written” and the mountainous trudge uphill in “Mongolia” — less slog than adventure, but still carrying a sense of, well, carrying perhaps a heavy backpack along for the trip — the feeling of motion is no less palpable than the sense of place at any given moment, even if that place is somewhere in a swirling cosmos of spirit and mind. It doesn’t seem like coincidence that “Speak Your Truth” features here as a closer, since ultimately that voyage from start to finish is the truth of the outing as a whole.

In Old Irish, “Imbás” — positioned ahead of the half-in-Spanish “Espiral” — translates roughly to “inspiration,” but carries with it a sense of that inspiration being born of a kind of clairvoyance given by the land. It would be hyperbole to say Tau and the Drones of Praise are tapped into these kinds of cosmic energies, but that is what the music is seeking to do, and admirably, there’s nothing tongue-in-cheek about it. There’s no irony here in adapting songcraft to the various wonders of craft from around the world, and more, in uniting them for the purposes of this material, this set. Rather, Mulrooney and his assembled cohort are all-in, all-go, and the energy they bring doesn’t need to be loud to immerse the listener in the space they’re creating.

To put it mildly, this was a special set. Its reach goes outside the common bounds of genre and so is suited to the festival that gave it a home, but in representing the past and what’s to come for Tau and the Drones of Praise, ‘Dream Awake’ feels comprehensive while existing on a wavelength largely its own, whether you tag that as neo-folk or acid-this-or-that or whatever it is. There is no cheapening the accomplishment of sound and performance here, and rarely are artists willing to be so naked in portraying where they’re coming from. Perhaps it helps that Tau are coming from everywhere. Whatever else one might say about it — and there’s plenty more one could — this was a beautiful moment. The effort to preserve it should be commended.

Tau and the Drones of Praise, Tau Presents: Dream Awake Live at Roadburn Redux (2022)

Tau and the Drones of Praise, ‘Dream Awake’

Tau and the Drones of Praise on Facebook

Tau and the Drones of Praise on Bandcamp

Burning World Records on Facebook

Burning World Records/Roadburn Records on Bandcamp

Burning World Records/Roadburn Records store

Burning World Records website

Dutch death-doom innovators Celestial Season reengaged with their grim underpinnings on 2020’s The Secret Teachings (review here), and Mysterium I, which is set to release in the coming months through Burning World Records, would seem to be signaling they’ll continue along those lines. No complaints. They’re not the only act of their ilk in recent years to find their way back to their harder-edged morose style — see also Paradise Lost, My Dying Bride — but their take has always had its own creative bent and atmosphere distinct even among such landmark peers.

And not to engage in random speculation, but if perhaps you were concerned the band would keep going after the last record, the ‘I’ in this title indicates the beginning of a trilogy. Mark that a win.

New video’s down at the bottom of the post. From the PR wire:

Celestial Season – Dutch Doom-Metal Group Announce New Album “Mysterium I”

Reveal Music Video For “Black Water Mirrors”

Nearly two years following the release of their comeback album “The Secret Teachings”, Dutch doom-metal pioneers Celestial Season are ready to release a new full-length album entitled “Mysterium I” once again through the renowned Burning World Records.

The chemistry between all members of the reunited line-up was so remarkable and productive that quickly resulted in this new effort, the first of a trilogy with “Mysterium II” and “Mysterium III” to follow in 2022 and 2023. Three new Celestial Season albums all with a different musical concept, an artistic approach that always characterized their past releases.

“Mysterium I” is the natural follow-up to “The Secret Teachings” and is part of the doom-era initiated with “Forever Scarlet Passion” from 1993 and “Solar Lovers” from 1995 widely acclaimed for a heavy, melancholic sound combined with classic instruments like violins and cello. Lyrically, the “Mysterium” trilogy continues where “The Secret Teachings” left off. A deep dive into the secrets of the ancient mysteries, all that is known and all what is still to be discovered.

Meanwhile, Celestial Season recently revealed a music video for the opening song “Black Water Mirrors”, which was originally released last year on Decibel Magazine’s flexi disc series.

https://www.facebook.com/CelestialSeason
https://celestialseason.bandcamp.com/
https://www.burningworldrecords.com
https://burningworldrecords.bandcamp.com
https://www.facebook.com/burningworldrecords

Celestial Season, “Black Water Mirrors” official video

Let’s talk about Acid King. I know it says ‘review’ up there, and that’s all well and good, but in this case, that’s really just me needing to categorize a thing. I remember Acid King getting announced for Roadburn 2011 in Tilburg, the Netherlands. I remember the poster art that’s now the cover for Roadburn Records/Burning World Records‘ Live at Roadburn 2011 live album. I remember that they played the same day as Wovenhand. I remember being stoked to see them, not for the first time, but on the Main Stage of the 013 venue. It was the biggest stage I’d ever seen them play on, and the way the San Francisco trio filled that room with sound — it was smaller then, you’ll recall — was incredible. It was like Lori S.‘s fuzz swallowed Tilburg. The whole town. Not even just the Roadburn part. I’m pretty sure they were feeling the rumble over by the university.

Some sets stay with you over time. I’d seen Acid King before and I’ve seen them again since, but on that stage, with that sound system, and with that crew, it was something special. I could say the same of Colour Haze in 2009, Ufomammut in 2011 or Sleep in 2012, among countless others (one should note that Dead Meadow‘s 2011 set has already been released, and so has Ufomammut‘s, and Godflesh‘s; it was quite a year). But even on Live at Roadburn 2011, you can hear it when Lori intones, “Tell all the people/That I’m on my way,” the sense is that, yeah, she means all the people. You want to run out and let the world know. I don’t know what chain is being broken on “Silent Circle,” taken as is the opening title-track from 1999’s ultra-classic, seriously-I-mean-it’s-one-of-the-best-heavy-rock-records-of-all-time-and-if-you-don’t-agree-there’s-a-good-chance-I’ll-think-less-of-you-as-a-person Busse Woods (discussed here, discussed here, discussed here), but clearly it doesn’t stand a chance against the rattling force of Acid King on that stage. Pushed ahead by then-drummer Joey Osbourne and underscored by the low end of Mark Lamb‘s basslines, Acid King‘s sound was engrossing in the extreme. You could stand there and nod, and you could stand there and nod.

As a live album, it runs a tidy-enough 47 minutes. The show begins with a simple “Alright,” and then a pause presumably while the steam engines that powered their Orange stacks that day got going. “Busse Woods,” again, is the opener, followed by the hooky “2 Wheel Nation,” which led off 2005’s III (discussed here), which it’s worth noting was the band’s latest record at the time, already six years old. That tradeoff, Busse Woods into III, plays out again with “Silent Circle” and “On to Everafter,” and in the closing duo of “Electric Machine” and “Sunshine and Sorrow,” but the ride along the way is sweet, thick and for the most part molasses slow, emphasizing just how much Acid King are able to make a riff roll in a way that’s not only been hugely influential over a generation of heavy rock and then some, but in a way that despite the best efforts of many is still utterly the band’s own.

I watched some of the set from the side of the stage — traditionally, at the Roadburns I’ve been fortunate enough to attend, I’ve given myself one band to do that for; I don’t want to be in the way, but just once for something special — and I watched from the back of the house. When they were done, you could hear the crunch of the plastic beer cups on the floor as people filed out, no doubt to grab some munten tokens and purchase their next round, and as I remember it, things felt quiet. That might honestly be me projecting in hindsight, but I kind of stood there for a while, stupefied, exhausted from travel but very much alive despite having been chewed up and spit out by what I’d just seen and heard. These 11 years later, and especially given the events (and in terms of concerts, lack thereof) over the last two years, hearing Acid King‘s Live at Roadburn 2011 feels like something precious.

And yeah, that might be true of any number of live albums that happened to be made at a show you attended. It’s always cooler when you can say you were there. But god damn. Consider the unveiling of “Coming Down From Outer Space.” What would eventually show up on 2015’s Middle of Nowhere, Center of Everywhere (review here, discussed here) — which came out on Svart Records, no less — was aired in the midst of the show, right between “On to Everafter” and “Electric Machine.” There was no grand announcement, no “Here’s a new one” or anything like that. Just feedback and then the riff that would in no small part define that album, itself a landmark that continues to hold up. Immediately catchy, immediately spaced out to suit the title, “Coming Down From Outer Space” here only leaves me wondering why Live at Roadburn 2011 is the first Acid King live outing, and sits easily among the already-then-familiar cuts from III and Busse Woods. And even for being unfamiliar at the time, that it heralded more to come from the band was a joy and a relief to witness.

Understand, as a fan of the band, I want this release to do well because I believe strongly in what Acid King do and I want them — or Lori S., who is now the sole remaining founder and has a different lineup in place — to continue doing it, but I can’t and won’t try to separate this live record from my experience of it, and if nobody buys it and it’s a huge flop or whatever, I’m still happy it got made because damnit, I want it for myself. You either get Acid King or you don’t. They’re either pioneers who helped shape the sound of modern heavy or they’re not, and if you think not, I seriously doubt any ranting and raving from me about how great their Roadburn 2011 was is going to change your mind. But know this — if you don’t appreciate this band, everything we as listeners get from them, it’s your loss. As a member of the human species. Your loss.

Good talk. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a preorder to wait on.

Acid King, “Electric Machine” Live at Roadburn 2011

Acid King on Facebook

Acid King on Instagram

Acid King website

Burning World Records on Facebook

Burning World Records on Bandcamp

Roadburn Records USA store

Burning World Records website

Pick your favorite sci-fi apocalypse and then close your eyes and watch it manifest as Slomatics make their way through the meager-seeming 35 Earth minutes of A Hocht. Favor fire? There’s plenty of that to go around, from the Anthony Roberts cover art on down. More of the ice, flood or plague type? Supernova? Perhaps just a big, giant, humongous thing smashing into the misbegotten crust of our home planet? Between “Inner Space” and “Outer Space,” the Belfast trio efficiently conjure a no doubt more glorious finish than we as a species deserve — and with riffs, to boot.

A Hocht — the title translating from Irish to “eight” to mark their eighth year as a group — arrived in 2012 at a pivotal moment for Slomatics. Issued through Head of Crom (LP) and Burning World Records (CD), the eight-song offering followed behind their 2011 split with English trio Conan (review here), whose popularity was surging at the time and who championed Slomatics‘ influence loudly and broadly; Conan guitarist/vocalist Jon Davis would go on to reissue the first two Slomatics records, 2005’s Flooding the Weir and 2007’s Kalceanna, on his Black Bow Records imprint.

In answering behind that and in seeing release through Burning World and Head of Crom, the Rocky O’Reilly-produced/mixed A Hocht was a shift in momentum for the band. It also marked the first appearance of Marty Harvey on drums/vocals alongside guitarists David Majury and Chris Couzens, which brought a significant impact to their sound and thematic in the years following as he would come to take on the Moog synth duties with which O’Reilly is credited here and which bring such a cinematic scope in accompanying the crush of “Tramontane” or “Theme From Remora.” The former tops seven minutes and is an automatic focal point as regards Slomatics‘ general methodology, but it’s by no means the only highlight of A Hocht when it comes to individual pieces.

To wit, “Return to Kraken.” Following the noisy and rumbling intro of “Inner Space” — which, yes, is echoed in “Outer Space” later — A Hocht makes its way through a succession of four relatively straightforward, structured songs. “Tramontane” is the fourth. “Return to Kraken” is the third, following behind “Flame On” and “Beyond Acid Canyon,” and after its roiling 28 seconds of an introduction, it sweeps and surges in with a riff and immediate verse that are superlative to the record’s destructive purpose. Even among the rest of Slomatics‘ pummel, it is singular in its largesse and though it’s shorter than “Black Acid Canyon” before it — mind you, neither that nor “Flame On” are lacking heft — it feels like a moment of impact-landing that’s intentionally delivered between the feedback at the end of the song before and its own intro. As a listener, you’re meant to be punched into nodding, and you do.

But of course, that wouldn’t happen with the lurch of “Flame On,” which establishes the spaciousness that accompanies so much of the plunder of A Hocht and comes to define the record no less than its riffiest moments, however memorable those might be. Slomatics aren’t exactly dropping subtle hints toward an atmospheric mindset with “Inner Space” at the beginning — it’s the first thing you hear when you hit play — but “Flame On” effectively brings that together with the tonal weight in Couzens and Majury‘s guitars, and as “Beyond Acid Canyon” plays out with a slower tempo, the idea of being dragged along by the three-piece through whichever endtime you’ve chosen is palpable, and by the time those synth horns seem to sound in the second half of “Return to Kraken” — that could just as well be guitar, to be honest; I’m not won’t pretend to know what’s going on there as it spans channels — the shift into “Tramontane” secures the hold the band have already well established to that point.

There is nuance there, though. In the effects on Harvey‘s vocals, or in the rhythmic turns from one progression to the next, the layering of guitar and synth, or even just the depth of the mix. I don’t want to give the impression that Slomatics are purely bludgeoning, because they’re not, and “Blackwood,” with just the non-lyric vocalizations from guest performer Arlene, or the instrumental “Theme From Remora” and the instrumental-save-for-vague-echoing-shouts “Outer Space” bring that notion to the fore. The vinyl release of A Hocht splits the tracks four to a side, such that “Tramontane” leads directly into “Blackwood” and “Theme From Remora” before “Outer Space” closes, and the procession of one to the next, the flow there, is every bit as thoughtful as the manner in which “Return to Kraken” delivers its bulldozer of a groove.

And just as their heaviest moments aren’t without atmosphere, so too is Slomatics‘ ambience heavy. “Blackwood” is drumless and dedicated to pure spaciousness and drone, and “Theme From Remora” chugs through a riff set to a deceptively upbeat drum march before building into its ultimate wash, the residual noise of which carries into the sparse initial combination of high and low tones that mark the beginning of “Outer Space,” which ends on a fading static noise like a transmission lost to cosmic background radiation. Whatever the message is there — maybe it was a way to save something — it’s gone.

A Hocht was the beginning of a purported trilogy of LPs based around a similar narrative, followed by 2014’s Estron (review here) and 2016’s Future Echo Returns (review here), and in addition to their 2019 long-player, Canyons (review here), the band has continued the streak of splits of which the release alongside Conan was a part. 2021 alone has brought work alongside Yanomamo and Ungraven (review here), and as I understand it, there’s more to come in that regard for 2022 too. Earlier this year, they also released the digital-only 2017 recording Live at Start Together Studio — on which “Tramontane” features, as it does alongside “Return to Kraken” on 2017’s Futurians: Live at Roadburn (review here) — because, well, it was February and who the hell knew at that point if there would ever be live shows again?

I’ll spare you tying that thought back into the various apocalypses noted above, but as much as the word “dystopian” gets tossed around in modern parlance, A Hocht has only come to feel ahead of its time.

As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.

—

This weekend is Fuzz Fest in Sweden, and there was a non-zero chance I was going to be there. Clearly I’m not in Stockholm, or I probably wouldn’t be on my couch, typing this while thinking vaguely about trying to shower before The Pecan’s bus drops him off from school.

I’m going to see Swallow the Sun on Nov. 29 in Clifton, NJ. That will be my first indoor show since Jan. 2020. I got an email reminder about the All Them Witches tour coming up. I might like to go see them again and take pictures and review the show, but I don’t know. Brooklyn sounds like an awful lot of people. More, certainly, than Clifton on the Monday after Thanksgiving. We’ll see how this goes. One gig at a time, I guess. I’m not exactly looking to “burst on the scene,” whatever that even means at this point.

I did some writing for Slomatics and got a new shirt from the band, was why they were on my mind. Plus they’re killer, so that was an easy pick. It was kind of a long week, and as I will, I’m dreading the holidays to come.

Speaking of, apparently next week is Thanksgiving. We’ll be in Connecticut. I’m sure what’s going on with me posting Thursday or Friday — Gimme Metal show airs next Friday; I need to finish and turn in a playlist that I’ve started — but neither do I think anybody’s waiting around to see what news I’m three days behind on. Feeling pretty run-down in general, I guess. End of the year slog. List time soon. Ha.

Also thinking I need to do the Quarterly Review sometime before The Pecan gets out for holiday break, which means I think the second week of December. I’m already getting hit up for streams and stuff (not a complaint) for then, however, so I need to sit with the calendar for about 30 seconds and figure it all out. Maybe tomorrow.

I also cannot keep up with email anymore. It’s a multiple-front battle, with Facebook messages coming in for my profile and site’s page and the stuff that comes in through actual email and the contact form. It is a thing at which I am actively failing. And that kind of stuff weighs on me. I don’t like to be that guy.

Nonetheless.

If you celebrate Thanksgiving, enjoy it. If you don’t, hug someone anyway and eat a good meal. Despite the politically problematic historical narrative behind the day, its actual celebration is perhaps my favorite of the actual-holidays holidays — that is, the ones that aren’t my wife’s birthday or an anniversary. You sit down for 10 minutes, maybe eat some turkey, enjoy each other’s company. Then do the dishes. Could be worse.

I wish you a great and safe weekend. Have fun, watch your head, and of course, remember to hydrate. So important.

Thanks for reading.

New merch up at MIBK.

The Obelisk Forum

The Obelisk Radio

The Obelisk merch