If Buzzard‘s first album, Doom Folk (review here), cast its own genre designation in the title, the upcoming second Buzzard LP, Mean Bone, flips that around. Not doom folk, but a ‘folk doom,’ drawing from Americana and slow, churning heavy groove in such a way as to feel like a reversal of the balance that Buzzard‘s sole auteur and denizen, Christopher Thomas Elliott, portrayed on the first record less than one full year ago.
And yeah, all this narrative about “first record” and “second record” when it comes to Buzzard is complicated by the release in January of Satiricus Doomicus Americus (review here), a largely-heavy, sample-laced and frankly brilliant examination of the current sociopolitcal moment, issued by Elliott under the eponymous guise of Satiricus Doomicus Americus and filtering its perspective through story and metaphor in a way that the 13 tracks and not-a-minor-undertaking 55 minutes of Mean Bone expand upon in multiple directions.
For example, “Conclusions,” which isn’t the last track but drops to acoustic guitar and ties directly with “Too Many Humans” from Satiricus Doomicus Americus and is a lyrical complement, but prior single “Crushing Burden of Despair,” the opener/current single “Darkness Wins” (premiering below), the chugging “Primitive” and “Changeling” are more about outward impact and feel freer to explore lyrically. “Changeling,” in particular, is parental in its point of view despite ending in murder, and actually “Murder in the White Barn,” following the initial salvo of “Darkness Wins” and “Crushing Burden of Despair” — maddeningly catchy, blindsiding in tone if you heard the debut and don’t know hard riffs are coming — ups that body count as well. Can’t have modernity without at least a little wanton killing, it seems.
In his propenity for shifting arrangements, clear singing voice and his foundation in folk and Americana, Elliott calls to mind an isolated David Eugene Edwards, perhaps if 16 Horsepower had felt their way through as a solo-project. But here, on Doom Folk and on Satiricus Doomicus Americus, the recording is part of the character of the listening experience. Elliott‘s voice is often layered but rarely enough drenched in effects to make the repetitions of “I bite my tongue/I bite my tongue…/Until I spit it all out” amid the pointedly Mars Red Skyian fuzz of centerpiece/highlight “Twisted Love” genuinely stand out.
Against a backdrop of probably-programmed drums and a sound that’s raw enough to be called organically digital — that is, it sounds like it was made on a laptop and it’s not trying to pretend that laptop was a million-dollar studio. I’m pretty sure it’s not AI, but it’s not like I was there when it was made, and if you asked me to prove I’m also not AI to you at this point, I couldn’t. Regardless, Elliott‘s homemade-feeling penchant for hard rhymes in thoughtful lyrics tells the decidedly human story of “Ghost of Orphan James,” become moodier and more creepingly malevolent to suit the cruelties described, even grimmer than “Murder in the White Barn,” though both songs seem to be about justice from some angle, their lyrics and those of the rest of the material made a focal point by the clarity of the vocal delivery.
Based around a bible story where a demon possessing somebody or other is cast into a herd of pigs who are then thrown into a river or some such, “Gadarene Swine” feels sincere in examining cruelty to animals in christian dogma, while “Dunwich Farm” directly pairs country blues and doom traditions, laying itself out like “Parchman Farm” to the horrors of present-day capitalist exploitation — the penultimate “Plight of the Planet” answers back with heavy-landing stomp and crash later (also the album’s title line), more specifically environmental in scope — or China’s Four Pest Campaign as depicted in “Flies, Mosquitos, Rats and Sparrows” that discounted ecology to the tune of 55 million deaths. In the song, Elliott is sure to mention they were peasants, the implication that no one cared about this ‘cost of progress’ laid bare.
It’s not all heavy-handed, but some of it definitely is, and that’s not a weakness considering how much the songs stand up to the message(s). Even closer “Ancient Ruins of the 21st Century,” which wraps with a weirdo-key-and-distortion-backed harmony worthy of Uncle Acid repeating warnings to women about, “Sorrow, terror, evil in the hearts of all good men,” brings a moment to complement what’s come before or expand the breadth of Buzzard in some way. The album by no means works from an optimistic point of view — see “Darkness Wins,” right up front — but neither is it entirely hopeless.
In “Crushing Burden of Despair,” as Elliott brings a duly cynical view of his times in lines like, “Knuckles dragging on the ground/Creationists arch a unibrow,” when he gets to “Stare into the abyss” in a later verse, the next line’s answer back is, “The abyss stares back and blows a kiss.” Sometimes if you can’t cry, laughing is all that’s left. And if you’re curious as to why I’m so focused on the lyrics, they’re relevant. Elliott notes below in talking about “Darkness Wins” that the music, “poured forth naturally from the lyrics.” That means the lyrics were there first. I’d be surprised if much of Mean Bone wasn’t built up that way. The words have been worked on no less than the riffs, which feels weird mostly for feeling weird.
Doom Folk brought Elliott to light as a solo, mostly acoustic-based singer-songwriter working from a heavy underground — doom and stoner, classic heavy rock, etc. — influence and bringing that forward alongside Americana and darker folk craft. Not the first to unite those worlds, necessarily, but doing so on a basis of notably strong songwriting and nascent persona. Mean Bone skillfully reinterprets this formula and claims new stylistic ground for Buzzard as a project, opening new possibilities — would/could an actual full-band happen? live if not in the studio? — while showing that the impressive 2024 outset was no fluke and, in combination with Satiricus Doomicus Americus, representing an expressive voice that seems to be disovering new moments of realization as it goes. There are plenty of them here, and if the quick turnaround on this second LP is an indicator that more are on the way, fair enough. That’s Buzzard offering a bit of hope as well, maybe.
Enjoy “Darkness Wins” below, followed by more from the PR wire:
Buzzard, “Darkness Wins” lyric video premiere
Christoher Thomas Elliott on “Darkness Wins”:
“Darkness Wins” is a response to the optimistic statement made by Detective Cohle at the end of True Detective, Season 1: “If you ask me, the light’s winning.” Actually, no, it is not.
In his essay “Through a Ligottian Lens: Session 9 and True Detective,” weird fiction author Jon Padgett discusses how the HBO series incorporates the cosmic pessimism of Thomas Ligotti into the monologues of Matthew McConaughey’s character, who spouts passages nearly verbatim from Ligotti’s anti-natalist treatise The Conspiracy Against the Human Race. However, despite the show’s pervasive bleakness, the final episode betrays its Ligottian nihilism with a pat whodunit conclusion in which our heroes nab the “Scooby Doo villain,” as author Laird Barron quips. Hope is rekindled, however tentatively.
But the song is here to remind us, sorry, my friends. Darkness did, does, and will prevail.
Besides Padgett’s essay, another inspiration for the song is Brandon Trenz’s artwork for the Chiroptera Press edition of Michigan Basement: the ghostly carnival, the oppressive darkness, the raw dread. The music of “Darkness Wins” poured forth naturally from the lyrics, made easy by a lifetime listening to Sabbath, Candlemass, and Trouble.
Injecting more metal into the malevolent Americana of Doom Folk, Buzzard’s 2nd LP Mean Bone aims to define the modern singer/songwriter doom genre. Created by Christopher Thomas Elliott, the 13 tracks traverse extremes of haunting beauty and brooding heaviness. Sabbathian riffs meet traditional folk songs in tales of depraved zealots, mad tyrants, and avenging ghosts.
Unlike Doom Folk, which was composed mainly on a handmade Alan Carruth acoustic guitar, Mean Bone was written mostly with an Ibanez electric guitar sporting a Cattle Decapitation sticker. Influenced by classic Doom and Americana, the music of Mean Bone ranges from crunchy metal to creepy folk. Informed by socially conscious Weird Fiction and Dylan-esque songwriting, the lyrics lament the evils of religion, the cruelty of mankind, and the plight of the planet.
Mean Bone was written, performed, and produced by Elliott in his lean and mean home studio, dubbed Inscrutable Studios for its tangled wires and eldritch gear.
Tracklisting: 1. Darkness Wins 2. Crushing Burden of Despair 3. Murder in the White Barn 4. Primitive 5. Changeling 6. Ghost of Orphan James 7. Twisted Love 8. Gadarene Swine 9. Dunwich Farm 10. Flies, Mosquitoes, Rats, and Sparrows 11. Conclusions 12. Plight of the Planet 13. Ancient Ruins of the 21st Century
Posted in Reviews on January 13th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Satiricus Doomicus Americus. Released this past Friday, it is timely enough that it felt in the spirit of the thing to review it the next day, and it serves as something a sidestep, or a holdover, or a gap-bridger between Christopher Thomas Elliott‘s first album under the moniker Buzzard, which was the well-received, less-than-a-year-old Doom Folk (review here), and an impending second full-length, Mean Bone, previously announced as due in 2025. At least as of now, Satiricus Doomicus Americus is listed as a separate project — there are times where it feels like it’s the second Buzzard record we’re getting before the second Buzzard record, and that’s not a complaint — and its songs are distinguished by their outward heft. But, if it is a separate project, it remains adjacent to Buzzard in style and comes across as building off that record’s floor of — wait for it — traditionalist folk influenced by doom metal, tipping if not outright reversing the balance between the two.
Comprised of nine songs, some which reportedly date back to 2009 but are fresh in construction and recording, Satiricus Doomicus Americus lays out its purpose firmly and decisively in the leadoff title-track. The line, “I’m not a cynic I’m a realist,” is defining. There and across much of what follows, Elliott positions himself as a doom troubadour, a post-apocalyptic dustbowl plugged-in Woody Guthrie, skewering fascists and fools with poetry in straightforward language in songs like “Wrong Neighborhood” and “Too Many Humans,” distortion at the ready but never a crutch to be leaned upon. Satiricus Doomicus Americus, in another marked departure from its Buzzardly beginnings, presents a conversationalist aspect with a liberal use of sampling. Not just as random bits of noise or speech thrown here and there, but sounds being purposely applied for rhythm and theme. Part of what a given song — in fact all of them — is expressing.
So although it’s fair to say Satiricus Doomicus Americus is complementary to Buzzard‘s to-date lone LP and likely the one to come it is not shy in its divergences. More on it below, but the closing duo of revamped Buzzard songs that close out, “Death Metal in America (Meat Market Version),” which gets a winning extra verse I won’t spoil and “Cockroaches and Weed (Kills Them Dead Version),” which puts old commercial taglines to good use, are a ready analogy for how Satiricus Doomicus Americus and Elliott‘s ‘main band’ (?) are intertwined. As the name of the project, title and eponymous opening track reaffirm, social critique is also a big part of what’s on display.
The sneer of “Nice Little Annihilation Song” is well suited to the frenetic acoustic strum and banjo arrangement as Elliott and his litany of old clips conjure endtimes preach, departing the stomp of the opener for a dark Americana shuffle — as opposed to the “Shuffle of the Dead,” which comes later — before the fuzz returns in “Wrong Neighborhood.” A ballad in terms of the lyrical storytelling, it cleverly takes the trope of a racist dogwhistle and turns it on its head to point out the hypocrisy beneath, and has one of the album’s best hooks besides and an arrangement that’s atmospheric and heavy with a garage-doom strut.
Satiricus Doomicus Americus is louder, generally, than circa-’24 Buzzard, but the manner in which it varies in mood and what’s happening in the details of each song is consistent. “Grass is Greener” stays mellow with foreboding plucked notes and the standout line, “A leaf will curl and die to catch the rain,” starting with a sample about man’s dominance over nature and mesmerizing with subdued vibe before old horns spliced in from the public domain blast to snap you back to reality for “Automobile,” which brings the drums back to the mix with a splash of cymbals to meet the low fuzz in the bass before the first verse, thoughtful in its rhyme scheme and lumbering in its chug as the hook asks who’s gonna kill the automobile. And indeed, who?
This kind of direct sociopolitical comment, unrepentantly relevant, was part of what made Doom Folk such an immediate standout, and Elliott is in his element across Satiricus Doomicus Americus, counting on his audience to get the Candlemass nod and understand that beneath all the trades between acoustics and electrics, electrics and acoustics, acoustic electrics and electric acoustics, banjo, bass, probably-programmed drums, the foundations of songs like “Too Many Humans” is as much slow metallic crawl as it is gothified pastoralia or protest folk.
That Elliott can dwell in either space, as that same song readily proves en route to the Night of the Living Dead sample that makes itself a hook in the subsequent “Shuffle of the Dead,” is revealed as a strength here that Doom Folk only hinted toward, and for what it’s worth, neither the doom nor the folk are skimped. If you caught Buzzard‘s single “Crushing Burden of Despair” (posted here) back in October, the full-tone, full-band-style swing that was being explored is part of Satiricus Doomicus Americus as well, at least intermittently, and the statement is plain that Elliott refuses to be limited to one modus or another in terms of sound or statement.
Again, “Death Metal in America (Meat Market Version)” and “Cockroaches and Weed (Kills Them Dead Version)” say it even plainer. Both are thickened up versions of cuts from Doom Folk, as noted, and before you start to wonder if that counts as a cover when somebody reworks a song across two at least nominally different solo-projects and surely cause your head to explode, what matters more is the willingness to let those songs be malleable. To let them live. My understanding is these are earlier versions or at least rooted in earlier versions than what showed up on Doom Folk, but the point stands. Just because one version of a thing is recorded, that doesn’t mean it has to be static, only that, forever. That very same creative openness, Elliott letting himself just mess with it, is likewise responsible for the varied arrangements throughout and Satiricus Doomicus Americus‘ capacity to boil down complex ideas into accessible sound.
You can pinpoint this or that nuance in terms of influence, either from doom, metal, folk, or, with the samples, hip-hop and pop, but I can only think of one other outfit with a style like Satiricus Doomicus Americus, and that’s Buzzard. This record will resonate more with some than others — it hit a nerve with me, clearly — but it shares Buzzard‘s listenability as it expands on the purpose and scope of the craft. It makes me more excited to hear where Elliott might take Buzzard over the course of Mean Bone while likewise making it harder to predict just what that will actually sound like. Given the results here, Elliott obviously thrives in open possibility.
Whatever else is to follow, as my homeland makes ready to reembrace the politics of hateful and destructive absurdity with demonstrably little to no preparation to get what it asked for, the moment feels right for Satiricus Doomicus Americus. Sometimes you get just what you need.
Posted in Features on December 19th, 2024 by JJ Koczan
[PLEASE NOTE: These are not the results of the year-end poll, which ends in January. If you haven’t contributed your picks yet, please do so here.]
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Hi, and welcome to The Obelisk’s year in review for 2024. This is a thing that’s kind of developed over the 15-plus years the site’s been in operation, and it’s something that people sometimes tell me has been a help when it comes to finding new music. I know for myself as well, I’ve referred back to these lists a lot in subsequent years, to see where bands were and where my head was, and so on. Are best-of lists meaningful, at all, in any way? Probably to the person making them, and that’s me, so I’ll proceed.
I thought the format last year worked pretty well, so I’ve hijacked it for use here. Not something I expect anyone to notice, but I did want to mention it on the off-chance. I don’t have a best live album of the year, but there are a few worth talking about, surely.
It’s been a busy, fast year. The barrage of music is overwhelming — and as problems go, that’s among the best ones to have — but I do think we’re seeing some tapering off. Generational turnover is, in fact, a constant, but the 2020s are taking shape now with bands who started making their name around the mid-2010s shifting into headliner status, new bands coming up beneath, more diverse in sound and construction, and with new ideas. This isn’t universal, but it is the ideal vision of the thing. Circle of life and such.
But it’s a lot. Including the 50-releases-strong Quarterly Review last week, I’m well north of having reviewed 400 total different mostly-full-lengths since January. That’s insane. The math is obvious, but I’ll point out anyhow that you could buy an album for every day of the year and have enough for an extra month-plus afterward. An astonishing amount of music, and I’m by no means reviewing everything.
Which brings me to the inevitable last point. I haven’t reviewed everything. If you’re here wondering where Opeth and Blood Incantation are landing on my list, they aren’t. Nothing against either of them, I just haven’t dug into the records since I knew I wouldn’t be reviewing them. The regular standard of doing as much as I can, when I can, about as much as I can, applies.
Please if you disagree with some pick below or other — and if you do, that’s healthy — I kindly ask you to keep things civil in the comments. I’m not here to call people out on enjoying things I don’t — fascism aside — and I know it makes me sad when I break my ass for days to put this together and the first comment is, “NO [WHOEVER]. LIST SUCKS. NEVER READING THIS FILTH AGAIN,” etc. Before you comment, please take a second to read what you put back to yourself for kindness. That’s good for spelling too, not that I’d know.
That’s all the stalling I can do. Time to dive in. Happy holidays.
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The Top 60 Albums of 2024
**NOTE**: If you’re looking for something specific, try a text search.
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60-31
60. Psychlona, Warped Vision
59. Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships, The Mind Like Fire Unbound
58. Massive Hassle, Unreal Damage
57. Temple of the Fuzz Witch, Apotheosis
56. Space Shepherds, Cycler
55. Abrams, Blue City
54. Castle Rat, Into the Realm
53. Heath, Isaak’s Marble
52. Weite, Oase
51. Cosmic Fall, Back Where the Fire Flows
50. Troy the Band, Cataclysm
49. Sunnata, Chasing Shadows
48. Skraeckoedlan, Vermillion Sky
47. Acid Mammoth, Supersonic Megafauna Collision
46. Deer Creek, The Hiraeth Pit
45. Big Scenic Nowhere, The Waydown
44. Grin, Hush
43. The Swell Fellas, Residuum Unknown
42. The Gates of Slumber, The Gates of Slumber
41. Coltaine, Forgotten Ways
40. Mountain of Misery, The Land
39. Mammoth Volume, Raised Up by Witches
38. Delving, All Paths Diverge
37. High on Fire, Cometh the Storm
36. Thou, Umbilical
35. The Giraffes, Cigarette
34. Fu Manchu, The Return of Tomorrow
33. Full Earth, Cloud Sculptors
32. Daevar, Amber Eyes
31. Causa Sui, From the Source
Notes:
Just in case you’re the type of person who’d say, “Oh how could you have a top 60? after a certain number it’s all the same,” I’ll admit that’s true, but 60 is apparently nowhere near the ‘certain number’ in question for me this year. I agonized over this part of the list. More than the top 30, and more than picking a best short release, best debut, or anything else. I wanted basically a second top 30, and I feel like if I saw this as that, as 30-1, I’d congratulate whoever submitted it on their taste. But maybe that’s just me agreeing with myself.
I like the mix of up and comers and established acts here. Sunnata and Skraeckoedlan, The Giraffes, of course High on Fire, Deer Creek and so on, mixing with up and comers like Full Earth, Daevar, Acid Mammoth, Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships, Heath, Troy the Band and Weite. I feel somewhat compelled to justify my High on Fire placement, especially looking at the results so far of the year-end poll. They’re amazing, they’re devastating, they’re a singular live act, but I just didn’t listen to the record that much. There. A big part of me feels like it should be top 10 just by virtue of who the band are, but if I did that for everybody who deserved it, I wouldn’t have room for anything new. All I can do is be honest to my own listening habits and opinions. I know High on Fire are really, really good. I know this album is really, really good. That’s why it’s on this list. Should it be higher? Probably. I’m doing my best.
Thank you for your kind attention in this matter. Also, listen to The Giraffes.
You won’t hear me say a downer word about An Earlier Time‘s quieter stretches, but it’s the sweeping moments like “Limitless” that find Boston’s Sundrifter making the most resonant impression. Their third full-length and the follow-up to 2018’s Visitations (review here), it was a strong declaration of who Sundrifter want to be as they continue to grow, and deserved more love than I saw that it got.
Oh, look out for Mr. Blogosphere. He’s out here taking a real risk putting Tranquonauts on the year-end list, like the combining of forces between Melbourne, Australia, heavy psych blues rockers Seedy Jeezus and guitarist Isaiah Mitchell wasn’t gonna work the second time around? Wow, Mitchell‘s and Lex Waterreus‘ guitars sure do sound awesome together. Oh — it’s a hot-take! Better get your react videos ready. The internet is terrible. This album offers escape from it.
At the risk of having to give back my Music-Journalism-Level membership to the Sycophant Society, I’ll dare to point out that Chat Pile are way, way hyped. That happens sometimes. It’s not like they’re out there being like, “Hey we’re the noise rock white dudes shifting paradigms for noise rock white dudes, best in a generation.” It’s people like me with all the hyperbole and comma splicing. I get that too. It’s a sound geared toward inciting a strong reaction, from the sneering sarcasm of the title down. By the way, am I the only one who looks at the title Cool World and thinks of the 1992 semi-animated film of the same name? I kind of hope so. See? Big feelings all around.
Rest assured, I don’t, but if I had any friends, I’d be like, “Hey, you should check out this band Gnome from Belgium. They’ve got fun riffs and they beat you over the head with them until you remember them by heart.” And these ‘friends’ would be all, “Wow man, that sounds definitely like something I would ever want to introduce to the scope of my life experiences! Thank you! I’m so glad to be your friend and the world is definitely a better place with you in it.” And then everybody’s day is better, all because of sharing and the shenanigans-laced riff metal proffered by these three behatted miscreants from Antwerpen.
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26. Brant Bjork Trio, Once Upon a Time in the Desert
Brant Bjork‘s solo band begat Stöner, and Stöner begat Brant Bjork Trio as Bjork, drummer Ryan Güt and bassist Mario Lalli (Fatso Jetson, Mario Lalli and the Rubber Snake Charmers, Yawning Man, etc.). I’ll cop to being a nerd for Brant Bjork‘s output generally — it’s a kind of cool so definitively Californian, my NJ-ass self can’t help but admire it — but the chemistry in Once Upon a Time in the Desert is on point to an undeniable degree, and the songs are a reminder of how the back catalog got so strong in the first place. What else could you want?
Five albums in, a post-arrival Sergeant Thunderhoof stand ready. They know who they are, what they want their songs to do, why and how to make it happen. The Ghost of Badon Hill gives a conceptual focus to unite material intentionally sprawling, and lets listeners immerse in a narrative all the more easily for the quality of its songcraft. Self-recorded, it is masterful in performance and assured of its execution, pored over but not overworked; the happy accidents might have been left in on purpose, but they still sound like accidents. And Sergeant Thunderhoof still sound like a band driving themselves toward the unknown.
Doom metal is lucky to have Early Moods laying out a template for the next generation to hopefully follow. The Los Angeles five-piece’s second full-length, A Sinner’s Past, refined the lurch of their 2022 self-titled (review here), and the combination of hard touring and progressive craft continues to bode well as they look toward their next offering. They’ve put in their work, however swift their ascent to this point might feel, and they’re about one great record away from standing among the best doom of the 21st century. You could easily argue they’re already there. Every reason is accounted for on A Sinner’s Past.
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23. Morpholith, Dystopian Distributions of Mass Produced Narcotics
Iceland’s Morpholith enter the conversation with Dystopian Distributions of Mass Produced Narcotics, which has cosmic-doom breadth and bong-metal crush to spare in the first four minutes of “Psychophere” alone, never mind anything that surrounds. The band’s debut is a bombastic plodder, beating out the march to a futuristic — and cold — vision of the riff-filled land that may or may not be Reykjavik in the wintertime while simultaneously being both very much of weed and not outwardly about it, seeming to have much more than addled, Mid Atlantic Ridge-heavy riff worship because — look out! — they do. If cosmic doom is ever going to be more than a loose thread connecting YOB and Ufomammut, bands like Morpholith need to keep pushing it forward like this. “Dismalium.” I dare you.
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22. Lamp of the Universe Meets Dr. Space, Enters Your Somas
Lamp of the Universe is multi-instrumentalist, songwriter, producer and vocalist Craig Williamson, based in New Zealand. Dr. Space is synthesist, keyboardist, producer, bootlegger and bandleader Scott Heller. The ‘meeting’ of these two expanded minds takes place over two extended tracks, one vinyl side per, of lush psychedelic and multi-tiered drones, absolutely perfect for the zone-out hypnosis you’ve been trying to put yourself in all day but for that pesky consciousness. I wish I could come up with some kind of ritual awesome enough for the keyboard textures in “Enters Your Somas” or the propulsive space rock thuddenchug of “Infiltrates Your Mind,” but some sounds are just too cool for the planet. Come see how the freaks get down.
I spent some significant time with Dool‘s The Shape of Fluidity this Spring, before and after seeing them at Roadburn (review here), which was another highlight of the year. The album’s triumph, in songwriting, in transcending genre bounds and in conveying its theme of breaking loose from the gender binary, gave my parent-of-a-trans-kid self a hopeful vision of a future beyond dark, hateful rhetoric or implied/real violence. It showed me a possible path to victory on what will be and already is a hard road. It was there when I needed it, which is a specific ideal of art providing care. I’ll never forget that.
Granted the Western soundscaping at the outset of the eponymous “Buzzard” lays it on thick, but it’s supposed to! We’re talking fire-and-brimstone earthbound Americana folk with a doomly rhythmic cast, given the self-aware title of Doom Folk by the solo artist Buzzard, aka Christopher Thomas Elliott, laying it on thick is the point. Elliott has a follow-up out soon already. Thinking of Doom Folk as the beginning of a creative progression makes its nuance and individualist drive even more exciting, but the rawness of this debut, the straightforwardness of its structures and the resulting memorability are part of the appeal for sure.
Seven bangers. Not a dud in the bunch. Two nine-minute songs and you still couldn’t say a moment of High Desert Queen‘s rightly anticipated sophomore LP is wasted. Not when you’re building up to the roll of “Head Honcho,” certainly. The Texas outfit built on the good-time largesse and party-but-not-a-party-so-cool-you-don’t-feel-welcome vibing of 2021’s Secrets of the Black Moon (review here) and set themselves vociferously to the task of being the change in heavy rock that they wanted to hear. Palm Reader‘s infectiousness is a strength, both in terms of a catchy piece like “Ancient Aliens” or “Time Waster,” and also in the overarching positive-framed mood and heart so clearly put into the material.
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18. Ufomammut, Hidden
Released by Supernatural Cat and Neurot Recordings. Reviewed May 21.
Now a quarter-century on from their start, Italian trio Ufomammut have yet to put out a record that didn’t sound like a forward step from the one before it. And Hidden is their 10th album. The band are progenitors and refiners of a cosmic doom sound that is unto itself, and cuts like “Kismet” and “Leeched” manage to be both lumbering in their massive-tone grooves and sprawling with a synthy ambience that, though certainly influential, is immediately recognizable as Ufomammut. Hidden is part of a creative trajectory, to be sure, and the arc is ongoing, but there’s more than enough substance here to leave a crater behind in the listener’s brain.
In its arrangement as five separate dreams taking place over its component tracks, the only thing Pentasomnia doesn’t take into account is that another Iota LP was a dream all on its own even before music actually happened. A full 16 years after shaking the galaxy’s core with their 2008 debut, Tales (discussed here, and here), the three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Joey Toscano (Dwellers, Hibernaut), drummer/producer Andy Patterson (The Otolith, ex-SubRosa, etc.) and bassist Oz Yasri (ex-Bird Eater) making a comeback — let alone it actually being good — was nigh on unthinkable. Then you heard “The Intruder” and reality shifted just a bit. Pretty sweet.
Few albums in 2024 were as entrancing as Langt, Langt Vekk, the hopefully-not-a-one-off collaboration between Norwegian progressive heavy instrumentalists Kanaan and neofolk contemporaries Ævestaden. Both adventurous outfits in their own right, the combination of elements, from live drums and synth to traditional plucked strings and Norwegian-language vocal choruses, works stunningly well. That little bit of fuzz in “Habbor og Signe,” or the cymbal wash behind “Dalebu Jonsson” — the songs are full of these little nuances or flourishes waiting to be found, but even with the most superficial of listens, the achievement resounds, whether one approaches from a viewpoint of heavy rock, prog, folk or psychedelia.
You know, I’ve kind of dug DVNE records all along, and I can’t really call Voidkind a surprise after 2021’s Etemen Ænka (review here), but these songs — “Eleonora,” “Sarmatae,” “Abode of the Perfect Soul,” among others — hit me much harder than I had expected, and the more I listened to try to twist my head around “Reliquary,” the more the album as a whole revealed of its character and detail. I review a lot of stuff, and I hear more than I review, so I don’t always get pulled back by every record, but Voidkind kept calling for return visits.
Look. If you’re reading this, I know I don’t have to tell you about Orange Goblin. Even if you don’t already have a soft spot for the long-running UK doom rockers, they’re perfectly happy to pummel one into you with Science, Not Fiction, their first album since 2018 and a realignment toward a harder-edged heavy rock sound, where the last, say, two records had leaned more metal. I heard some griping about the production not helping, but I heard absolutely nothing to complain about here. The band are on fire and the recording shows it, the songs aren’t necessarily any great progressive leap but for sure they’re Orange Goblin songs, and for a band who owes nobody proof of anything, they set a high standard and deliver accordingly, like god damned professionals should.
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13. Spaceslug, Out of Water
Released by Electric Witch Mountain Recordings. Reviewed May 14.
What I didn’t get about Spaceslug until I finally saw them live at Desertfest New York (review here) was just how metal the impact of their songs can get. It’s not necessarily that they’ve grown more aggressive, unless you want to incorporate harsh vocals or shouting — “Tears of Antimatter” also has gently-delivered barely-there spoken word, so it depends on the story you want to tell — but the blend of melancholic doom, heavy psychedelia and melodic fluidity that has become Spaceslug‘s stylistic wheelhouse is not to be missed. Out of Water finds them at their broadest and least concerned with genre, and brings into relief how special a band they’ve become. Also it rocks.
No secret how Craneium are doing it on Point of No Return; it’s right there in the songs. All of them. “One Thousand Sighs,” “The Sun,” “A Distant Shore,” “…Of Laughter and Cries,” “Things Have Changed” and “Search Eternal.” Texture and hooks, heft and scope and melody and crash and shove, classy progressive execution and swaggering conjurations. Most of all, songs that stay with you. Chances are, if you heard this record and gave it its due attention at some point in your time with it, you didn’t have to do much more than read the titles to have the tracks playing in your head. That’s not a coincidence. It’s craft. It’s a willful outreach on the part of the band and material. It’s what makes you want to sing along. And why would you not?
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11. Guhts, Regeneration
Released by Seeing Red Records and New Heavy Sounds. Reviewed Feb. 5.
More on it below, but for the moment, suffice it to say that the bludgeoning and/or scathe of Regeneration at its most intense and the depths its mix seemed to find, the debut full-length from New York post-metallers Guhts dared visceral emotionality in a way few records so heavy could or would hope to. The willing-to-break-her-voice-if-necessary performance of Amber Gardner and the weighted undulations surrounding from guitarist Scott Prater, bassist Daniel Martinez and drummer Brian Clemens, the open sway, unfettered crush, and quiet spaces offsetting all that bombast result in both a chaotic feel and an applicable world. Therefore it must be modern. Fine. It sounds like the future.
As to how Philadelphia’s Heavy Temple managed to fit so much swagger onto a single platter, you’d have to ask them, but their second album, Garden of Heathens, landed hard in tone and attitude alike. Songs like “Extreme Indifference to Life,” “House of Warship” and the galloping payoff of “Jesus Wept” ahead of the thrashy finale “Psychomanteum” affirmed what was set out in 2021’s Lupi Amoris (review here) and their earlier short releases while marking out and conquering decisively new territory in their sound. I know it was recorded two years ago or something like that, but it’s still a band beginning to realize their potential in craft and performance, and if a third LP happens sooner than later, so much the better.
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9. 1000mods, Cheat Death
Released by Ouga Booga and the Mighty Oug and Ripple Music. Reviewed Nov. 11.
Whether one embraces Cheat Death because the songs kick ass or because 1000mods are so vivid and uncompromising in pushing themselves forward from release to release, I don’t think you’re wrong. The forerunners of their generation in Greek heavy rock remain among the finest Europe’s heavy underground have to offer, and the atmosphere they’re able to conjure alongside the straight-ahead Matt Bayles-produced punk-metal hooks of these songs is emblematic of why. Without ever giving up their foundation in heavy rock, 1000mods have consistently refined their processes and grown as songwriters. The joke of Cheat Death is how alive the material feels.
Faced with the considerable task of following up the to-date album of their career, Elektrik Ram (review here), just one year later, South African heavy rockers Ruff Majik did not flinch. Instead, Moth Eater takes the outright charge and sharpness-minded efficiency of its predecessor in a stated trilogy that began with 2020’s The Devil’s Cattle (review here) and sets it as the foundation for a confident, creative growth and sustainable expansion of sound. They’re a little more willing to dwell in parts, and they’re well aware of how catchy they can be, but also, they know the power of momentum and they’re fully in control of the narratives they’re telling. As Moth Eater readily demonstrates, it’s hard to know which of that it is that makes them most dangerous.
It’s hard to overstate the accomplishment of Nell’ Ora Blu, and I’m well aware that the critical sphere is full of plenty who’ve spent the better part of 2024 trying. Reasonable. The completeness of the world Uncle Acid and the Deadbeats built in the work based around the concept of soundtracking a giallo film that didn’t exist was singularly evocative. With original dialogue recorded (in Italian) specifically for ‘movie’ ambience, Uncle Acid took what had always been an influence on the band’s sound within genre-cinema and its methods of storytelling, and flipped the process on its head by creating its own story. Their influence is already well spread throughout the heavy underground, for sure, but in bringing a vision to life, this might be the album Uncle Acid have been working toward all along.
A forward-thinking masterwork from even before “Deadname” sneaks a layer of acoustic guitar under the mountain of distortion in the verse lines and “Arrival” and “Transitions” give evocative chronicle to the album’s trans-experiential theme — it is the band’s first since guitarist/vocalist Simona Ohlsson transitioned, and admirable for both its projected triumph and vulnerability around that — the fifth full-length from Vokonis continues the progressive path they have walked for the last decade-plus. A lineup change has brought some shift in dynamic, but a new strength of voice behind the material that makes “Phantom Carriage,” “Chrysalis,” and, suitably enough, “Arrival,” feel like a declarative pinnacle, and having something to say makes the raw impact of its heaviest moments all the more powerful.
There’s little funnier to me about heavy rock as it exists in 2024 than the idea that Greenleaf would be a band people take for granted. “Oh, Tommi Holappa and Company putting out another collection of classic-heavy and blues-rocking bangers? Business as usual, I guess.” Until you listen to the album, maybe. Then you get the tumble of “Avalanche,” the hooks in “Breathe, Breathe Out,” and “A Wolf in My Mind,” the subdued-bluesy pair “That Obsidian Grin” and “An Alabastrine Smile” to remind how you much this band has been able to grow since Arvid Hällagård made his first appearance with them a decade ago, the way they’re able to move through a jam and land in a groove as solid as “Oh Dandelion,” reminiscent of Clutch in its start-stop funk but defined by its own persona. Every Greenleaf record is a gift. If feeling that way means I’m not impartial, good. We understand each other.
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4. Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol, Big Dumb Riffs
Promises made, promises kept. Austin-based crunch purveyors Rickshaw Billie’s Burger Patrol stripped any and all excess out of their approach on Big Dumb Riffs, resulting in a quick-feeling collection of memorable, heavy tracks that, whether fast like “1800EATSHIT” or slow like “In a Jar,” are united in the album’s central stated purpose. Already an established brand of heavy revelry, the three-piece didn’t change anything radically in aesthetic terms, but the songs found their target one after the other, front to back, and were clever and well composed, however willfully lunkheaded the central riffery might have been. They’re headed to Europe in Spring, and I’m already hearing rumors of a next record, so keep an eye out in 2025.
Slomosa‘s released-in-2020 self-titled debut (review here) was a salve to many in troubled times, representing a next-generation hope for underground heavy in energetically-delivered, classic-feeling songs. Tundra Rock, which gives a name to the band’s style seemingly in direct answer to anyone who might class them as ‘desert,’ confirms the Norwegian four-piece at the forefront of an up and coming cohort of younger acts beginning to find their expressive modus and step beyond their root influences. Tundra Rock finds Slomosa doing this while giving their dual-vocal live dynamic vibrant studio representation and growing their material in character and melody alike. Heavy rock and roll is Slomosa‘s for the taking.
A record that didn’t need to be loud to be heavy, Brume‘s Marten is without question my most-listened-to album of 2024. That needs no qualifying. I had high expectations going into it after seeing the San Francisco band at Desertfest New York 2022 (review here), and Marten surpassed every hope I might’ve been able to harness for it and then some. The collective voice of the band incorporating multiple viewpoints from bassist/vocalist/keyboardist Susie McMullan, guitarist/vocalist Jamie McCathie, drummer Jordan Perkins Lewis, and in her first appearance as a full-on member of the band, cellist/vocalist Jackie Perez Gratz (Grayceon, Amber Asylum, etc.), resulted in a fluid but deeply divergent collection, comprised of songs that went where they wanted to go — or didn’t, thank you very much — according to their own whims and purposes. It is a landmark for Brume and, if any number of subgenres are lucky, a blueprint from which others will hopefully learn.
I acknowledge breaking my own rules here — splits are always, until and including this year, categorized as short releases in these lists — but when it came to it, the thought of putting Elephant Tree and Lowrider‘s The Long Forever anywhere else, considering it as anything else, seemed ridiculous. Especially if you count writing the liner notes for it, I’ve gone on at length about the release as an intersection of crucial moments for the respective bands, with Lowrider following their first album in 20 years, Refractions (review here), and Elephant Tree answering the progressive statement of their own second LP, Habits (review here), both released in 2020. The storyline gets deeper as Elephant Tree also look to reestablish themselves following a near-fatal accident suffered by guitarist/vocalist Jack Townley, melding rawness of tone with lush vocal harmonies, and Lowrider drag fuzz-rock traditionalism kicking and screaming into a reality of being both fun and intelligent. There ultimately was nothing else to call The Long Forever than the album of the year. If that comes with an asterisk because it’s a split, it doesn’t lessen the effect of hearing it at all. So yeah, I’m breaking the rules of the game. I’m inconsistent. Unprofessional. Biased. I don’t know what to tell you except love makes you do crazy things. In these songs themselves — do I even need to talk about the collaboration — and in the drive behind them, that’s what most resonates here.
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The Top 60 Albums of 2024: Honorable Mention
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If the 60 above wasn’t enough, here are more leads to chase down, alphabetical but in kind of a hyper-specific, ass-backwards-seeming way:
Acid Rooster, Alber Jupiter, Altareth, Alunah, Astrometer, Bismarck, Black Capricorn, Blasting Rod, BleakHeart, Blue Heron, Bongripper, Boozewa, Caffeine, Carpet, Castle, Cleen, Clouds Taste Satanic, Codex Serafini, Cold in Berlin, Cortez, The Cosmic Dead, Crypt Sermon, Daily Thompson, Deadpeach, Deaf Wolf, Demon Head, Destroyer of Light, Dopethrone, Duel, Earth Ship, Elephant Tree, Emu, Familiars, Bill Fisher, 40 Watt Sun, Ghost Frog, Goat Major, Guenna, Heath, High Reeper, Hijss, Horseburner, Ian Blurton’s Future Now, Insect Ark, Inter Arma, Kelley Juett, Juke Cove, Kalgon, Kandodo, Kant, Kariti, Kungens Män (x2), Kurokuma, Leather Lung, Legions of Doom, Lord Buffalo, Magic Fig, Magick Brother & Mystic Sister, Magick Potion, Magmakammer, Mammoth Caravan, Massive Hassle, MC MYASNOI, Merlin, Methadone Skies, Monkey3, Morag Tong, The Mountain King, Mount Hush, MR.BISON, My Dying Bride, Myriad’s Veil, No Man’s Valley, Norna, The Obsessed, Oryx, Pallbearer, Patriarchs in Black, Pia Isa, Planet of Zeus, Red Mesa, Rezn, Rifflord, Sacri Monti, Sandveiss, Satan’s Satyrs, Saturnalia Temple, Scorched Oak, Sheepfucker & Kraut, Slift, Slower, Slow Green Thing, SoftSun, The Sonic Dawn, SONS OF ZÖKU, Spacedrifter, Spiral Grave, Spirit Mother, Stonebride, Sun Blood Stories, Sunface, Sun Moon Holy Cult, Swallow the Sun, The Swell Fellas, Swell O, Temple Fang, 10,000 Years, Thomas Greenwood and the Talismans, Thunderbird Divine, Tigers on Opium, Traum, 24/7 Diva Heaven, Valley of the Sun, Vlimmer, Void Commander, Weather Systems, The Whims of the Great Magnet, Whispering Void, White Hills, Per Wiberg, Esben Willems, Worshipper, WyndRider…
Notes:
With the eternal caveat that I’ll be adding to the honorable mentions for the next few days as people drop names they remembered and I forgot, I’ll say I can live with the list as it is now. I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m happy with it, but I’ll live. I felt like there was just too much good stuff in the 60-30, stuff that deserved a better look, and god damn, look at the honorable mentions. You’re gonna tell me Rezn wasn’t top 30 material? Or Inter Arma, or 10,000 Years (who I still need to review), or Kandodo or Cortez, or Bongripper, Blue Heron, Merlin, Slower? Mount Hush, Vlimmer, Destroyer of Light — I could do this all day. That Carpet record. That MR.BISON record. Valley of the Sun. I see these names and want to punch myself. Then I see the names in the top 30 and I go, “Well…” and kind of have to hold off. I guess that means it turned out to be a pretty fantastic year.
I know for a fact I didn’t hear everything that came out, and I’m willing to bet that any number of people who see this will have their own opinions on the best albums of 2024 from top to bottom. I celebrate this difference and look forward to being exposed to new sounds because of it. Let comments fly, please. Once again, my only ask is that you keep it kind as relates to my own list(s) and any other picks someone might offer. If I’ve got facts wrong, something was a Dec. 2023 release instead of Jan. 2024, whatever, by all means, let me know. But we’re all friends here and being a jerk about it solves nothing.
And yes, I’ll admit to projecting some self-criticism in the Elephant Tree/Lowrider selection for album of the year. All I can tell you is I stand by that pick. It’s that because when I was putting together the list, it couldn’t have been anywhere else. I don’t love breaking my own arbitrary rules nearly as much as I love imposing those arbitrary rules in the first place, but sometimes apparently one is forced from one’s comfort zone to their own general betterment. Who knew?
Of course we’re not done yet.
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Debut Album of the Year 2024
Guhts, Regeneration
Other notable debuts (alphabetical):
Azutmaga, Offering
Buzzard, Doom Folk
Castle Rat, Into the Realm
Cleen, Excursion
Coltaine, Forgotten Ways
Full Earth, Cloud Sculptors
Goat Generator, Goat Generator
Goat Major, Ritual
Grave Speaker, Grave Speaker
Guenna, Peak of Jin’Arrah
Hashtronaut, No Return
Heath, Isaak’s Marble
Hijss, Stuck on Common Ground
Kalgon, Kalgon
Kant, Paranoia Pilgrimage
Kitsa, Dead by Dawn
Leather Lung, Graveside Grin
Legions of Doom, The Skull 3
Magic Fig, Magic Fig
Magick Potion, Magick Potion
Morpholith, Dystopian Distributions of Mass Produced Narcotics
Myriad’s Veil, Pendant
Neon Nightmare, Faded Dream
Plant, Cosmic Phytophthora
Rabid Children, Does the Heartbeat
Saltpig, Saltpig
Semuta, Glacial Erratic
SoftSun, Daylight in the Dark
Spacedrifter, When the Colors Fade
Sun Moon Holy Cult, Sun Moon Holy Cult
Ten Ton Slug, Colossal Oppressor
Tet, Tet
Tigers on Opium, Psychodrama
Tommy and the Teleboys, Gods Used in Great Condition
Troy the Band, Cataclysm
Weather Systems, Ocean Without a Shore
Esben Willems, Glowing Darkness
Young Acid, Murder at Maple Mountain
Notes:
First about Guhts: From the Andy Patterson recording and parts of the songs themselves, Guhts weren’t hiding influence from the likes of SubRosa or Julie Christmas, Made Out of Babies, etc., but what Regeneration did so well — and what I was trying to convey above — was take those recognizable elements and redirect them toward an expressive individuality. That album could be punishingly heavy or sweet and soothing and the fact that you never quite knew which was coming next was a major asset working in the band’s favor. There are a lot of killer debuts on this list, and plenty I’m sure that I’ve left off because, well, I’m inept, but Regeneration was so sure of what it was about and so crisp in making that real through sound that it’s still stunning.
A lot to celebrate on this list. Full Earth at the outset of a hopefully long-term progression. Tigers on Opium with attitude and craft. Castle Rat giving stage drama studio life. Weather Systems picking up where Anathema left off. Promising starts for Pontiac, Hashtronaut, Neon Nightmare, Cleen, Coltaine, Troy the Band, Buzzard, Magic Fig, Legions of Doom, and Heath, among others. If you’re worried about the state of underground heavy music, you don’t need to be. Granted the future of anything is unknowable even before you apply “uncertain times” caveats and all the rest, but bands are stepping up to carry the torch of established sounds and pushing themselves to realize new ideas — whether that’s Guhts and Magic Fig or Tigers on Opium, or Legions of Doom, Ten Ton Slug, Weather Systems and Monolord’s Esben Willems, new players or ones who’ve been around for decades.
If you want a top ten — and who doesn’t? — in addition to Guhts, make your way through Full Earth, Sun Moon Holy Cult, Morpholith, Guenna, Coltaine, Troy the Band, Young Acid, Emu, Buzzard and Kant to start, and you can dig deeper from there. That’s actually 11, but I don’t care. More new music won’t hurt you.
We press on.
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Short Release of the Year 2024
Moura, Fume Santo de Loureiro
Other notable EPs, Splits, Demos, Singles, etc.
Aktopasa, Ultrawest
Alreckque, 6PM
Bog Wizard, Journey Through the Dying Lands
Conan, DIY Series Issue 1
Cortége, Under the Endless Sky
Cult of Dom Keller, Extinction EP
Michael Rudolph Cummings, Money EP
Deer Lord, Dark Matter Pt. 2
Eagle Twin & The Otolith, Legends of the Desert Vol. 4
Fuzznaut, Wind Doula
Fuzzter, Pandemonium EP
Geezer & Isaak, Interstellar Cosmic Blues and the Riffalicious Stoner Dudes
Harvestman, Triptych EP(s)
Hermano, When the Moon Was High
Hollow Leg, Dust & Echoes
Holy Fingers, Endless Light Infinite Presence
King Buffalo, Balrog
Lurcher, Breathe EP
Okkoto, All is Light
Ord Cannon, Foreshots EP
Orme, No Serpents No Saviours
Pelican, Adrift/Tending the Embers
Pontiac, Hard Knox EP
Rope Trick, Red Tide EP
Sacred Buzz, Radio Radiation
Smoke & Doomsday Profit, Split
Spiral Guru, Silenced Voices EP
Toad Venom, Jag har inga problen osv...
Trigona & IO Audio Recordings, Split
Various Artists, International Space Station Vol. 2
Notes:
This category includes so much and can range so vastly between an EP that’s about 30 seconds short of being a full album to a standalone single released just for the hell of it to a band’s first rehearsal room demo. “Short releases” encompasses a lot, and as noted above, I’ve already broken my rules about where splits go. What about The Otolith and Eagle Twin? Geezer and Isaak? Smoke and Doomsday Profit? Trigona and IO Audio Recordings? The International Space Station four-wayer? If I’m crossing lines, don’t these also need to be considered as full-lengths?
You know what really sucks about it? This is an argument I’m going to have with myself for probably the next year. An existential crisis playing out in the back of my mind. More important? The Moura EP. The soundtracky textures the Spanish folk-informed progressive psychedelic rockers brought to the follow-up for their second album were both otherworldly and ground-born, and the material put emphasis on how much care and craft goes into their work while retaining the organic core against the threat of pretense. It was my most listened to short release of 2024, followed by Pelican, Holy Fingers, Pontiac, Toad Venom, Hollow Leg (x2), and Sacred Buzz. A new King Buffalo single was a late-year boon, that Hermano was worth it for the previously-unreleased studio track alone, and strong showings from Michael Rudolph Cummings, Deer Lord, Conan and Cortége, along with the aforementioned splits, assured that through the entire year, attention spans would receive consistent challenge in the movement from one thing to the next.
By way of a familiar confession, my list of short releases is nowhere near complete. It never is, and it never really could be. I’m sure there will be some I left out that I’ll add in for honorable mentions, etc., but I stand by the Moura pick for best short outing. They brought a soul to it that put the lie to the notion of EPs as between-album gap-fillers, and in a year that didn’t lack substance among its brevity-focused options, Fume Santo de Loureiro stood out in character, aesthetic and songwriting. Nobody else is making music quite like Moura.
If you have more to add here, by all means, please and thank you. Comments are below.
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Live Albums
Live Album of the Year 2024
Temple Fang, Live at Krach Am Bach
Castle, One Knight Stands: Live in NY
Danava, Live
Elder, Live at Maida Vale
Snail, Thou Art There
Stöner, Hittin’ the Bitchin’ Switch
Sula Bassana & Skyjoggers, Split
The Whims of the Great Magnet, Live at Bankastudios Maastricht 22-12-2023
Notes:
Fewer releases listed here than last year, but some killer ones for that. I put Temple Fang out there as live album of the year, and since we’re late in the post I’ll tell you honestly that it probably could be any of these on a given day. Danava’s live record crossed decades in badassery, the Sula/Skyjoggers split captured the vibe of a club night in Germany, the Whims of the Great Magnet’s live release made an excellent predecessor to their out-this-month studio album, Snail recorded theirs at a show I put on, Stöner capture the end of their two-album cycle with an awesome set, and Elder are Elder. The Maida Vale recording is short, and their songs are long, or you probably would’ve heard a lot more about that this year. If/when they do a proper live album, it will be a no-brainer.
But the Temple Fang has it all in molten progressivism, heavy tones, immersive psychedelia and outright soul, and of the bands I’ve managed to list here — if you want to add to the list, please do — there’s nobody who so much defines what they do by its live incarnation. Temple Fang’s music changes every night. They follow where it leads in a different way, and the ritualization of their performance comes through in Live at Krach Am Bach resoundingly. I’m not saying a bad word about their studio work to this point, but their heart manifests in a different way and at a different level onstage. They’re a great band and this shows a big part of why.
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Looking Ahead to 2025
Names, right? This one’s all about the names? Get to the names, jack? Okay, calm down.
With eternal appreciation to the folks of fine, upstanding moral character in the ‘The Obelisk Collective’ group on Facebook for the assistance, here’s a smattering of what one might look forward to in 2025:
Aawks, After Nations, All Them Witches, Amber Asylum, Author & Punisher, Bandshee, Black Spirit Crown, Bog Wizard, Bone Church, Borracho, Bronco, Buzzard, Dee Calhoun, Causa Sui, The Cimmerian, Clutch, Conan, Corrosion of Conformity, Daevar, Dead Meadow, Dead Shrine, Demons My Friends, Dream Unending, DUNDDW, Dunes, Flummox, Fuzz Sagrado, FVZZ POPVLI, Gaytheist, Gin Lady, Gnarled, Gnod & White Hills, Gods and Punks, Godzillionaire, Haze Mage, Kaiser, Kal-El, King Buffalo, Lamassu, Lo-Pan, Madmess, Mantar, Masters of Reality, Messa, Seán Mulrooney, Mouth., New Dawn Fades, Nightstalker, Øresund Space Collective, Pentagram, Pesta, Pothamus, Dax Riggs, Seedy Jeezus, Slomatics, Slow Wake, Stoned Jesus, Stone Machine Electric, Temple Fang, 3rd Ear Experience, Triptykon, Trouble, Turtle Skull, Warlung, Weedpecker, Yawning Balch, Year of the Cobra, YOB… and because it still hasn’t happened and someone invariably calls me out if they’re not listed: Om.
If you have names to add, “smash that comment button,” in the parlance of our times. Only don’t really smash it because you might hurt your hand or break your phone with your awesome strength.
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THANK YOU
It was among my primary goals for this post that it should be shorter than last year’s, and it looks like I’ll achieve that with room to spare, so I’m glad. Sometimes I get carried away, I think I probably don’t need to tell you.
Before I let go of 2024 — actually I still want to review that The Whims of the Great Magnet studio release and I’ve got a Darsombra video premiere set before the end of the year, news to catch up on from like the last two weeks and a whole lot more to cover — I’d like to take a moment to thank you one more time for reading and for being part of this project this year and each year it’s been ongoing. Your support is absolutely what keeps this site going and it means more to me than I can ever hope to comprehend.
Thank you to The Patient Mrs., who in the course of a given week let alone year puts up with more of my bullshit than any human being should ever have to. “Yes, love, the world’s ending and we have no money and the house is falling down around us and the dog needs to pee, but I just need two or three hours to go sit and write about riffs — is that cool?” Or better, when I’m pissy about it. The “my wife is a saint” routine is pretty played out as far as dudely excuses for being selfish, lazy and/or dumb go, but well, I am all of those things on the extreme regular and she hasn’t booted my ass to the curb yet. I find this to be a reason to celebrate and a thing to appreciate. I am loved and cared for in ways I could never hope to earn.
Thank you to my family for their support, year in and year out. They’ve all got Obelisk shirts and they all wear them, and while I’m not sure they understand the true depths of egoistic depravity involved in this project, they’ve been on board with it since the start, and this includes my wife’s side of the family as well. I am incredibly lucky to have the life I have.
I’m going to keep listening to music, keep writing about it as much as I can. I’m not quite as generally panicked about it as I used to be — older, busier in different ways, over the FOMO, maybe a little more discerning in terms of taste? — and I’m significantly less likely to break my brain answering email, but I’m doing my best.
The Obelisk presses on into what will be a busy 2025. I’ve got trips slated to Planet Desert Rock Weekend in Las Vegas this January, Desertfest Oslo in May, Freak Valley in Germany in June, Bear Stone in Croatia in July, and Desertfest New York in September, with more hopefully to come. I look forward to these adventures and to doing the writing that will happen as part of them, and one more time, I thank you for your time and attention in reading, in the past, now, and in the future. I’m taking tomorrow off. All the way off. Back on Monday for more.
With the stated intention of bridging gaps between traditionalist folk and doom Massachusetts-based Christopher Thomas Elliott made his debut operating under the Buzzard moniker earlier this year with the aptly named full-length, Doom Folk (review here). If you missed it among the glut of 2024 offerings in various styles under the umbrella of ‘heavy’ microgenres, you might be forgiven. There’s been no great hype push, no social media content-providing to keep the songs in listeners’ algorithms. It’s almost like they just want to make and release music without having to hock wares in the open market of Reels. Imagine such a thing.
“Crushing Burden of Despair,” a new Buzzard single posted the other day, is outwardly heavier than was most of Doom Folk, though the album featured electric guitar along with acoustic as well. Here, it comes with dense bass and a swing of drums — programmed or not, I can’t tell — heralding more of a band-ish arrangement as a preface to a second long-player to come early next year, given the title Mean Bone. What’s held over is the groove and Elliott‘s plainspoken lyrics and singing style, and while based on Doom Folk, I wouldn’t expect Mean Bone to do just one thing the whole way through however many tracks it ultimately will boast, it’s plain to hear Buzzard laying claim to a broader scope of sound in “Crushing Burden of Despair” even as much of the personality of the album before is maintained in the track, which — you guessed it — is about living in America right now. So, yes, daring to be relevant amid an evolving sound. This tells me the record is something to look forward to.
In the interim, Doom Folk is getting a new, limited, bonus-track-inclusive CD pressing set to become available on Halloween — it’s October now, apparently — and the album itself has been remastered for the occasion. I’d be curious to hear that, and I would expect either way it’s still pretty raw, as that was part of the intent behind the recording in the first place. But if Mean Bone — as in the adage, “I don’t have a… in my body” — is going to delve into protest-doom as it evolves from out of the Americana bent of the first record, building on what I’d consider one of this year’s best and quirkiest debuts in new ways, count me in. I dig the hell out of this.
Lyric video follows here, and the Doom Folk stream is at the bottom of the post. Enjoy:
Buzzard, “Crushing Burden of Despair” lyric video
Greetings Doomcampers. I’m pleased to announce the Doom Folk Deluxe Expanded CD, due to lumber forth at the end of October:
* 12-track Doom Folk album freshly remastered * 4-page booklet packed with Doom Folk lyrics * 7 bonus tracks of pre-Buzzard dark Americana, including a grim rewrite of “O Death” with Lisa Austin on vocals. * Limited to 100 copies * Shipping 10/31/24
In the meantime, I just quietly slipped out a lyric video preview of the just-about-finished 2nd Buzzard LP, Mean Bone, due Spring of 2025: www.youtube.com/watch?v=68te6DhUM6c. Built around themes of human evil, social collapse, and environmental destruction, Mean Bone expands on morbid Americana to include brooding full-band Doom and Stoner metal.
Legend has it that a long time ago, thousands of years ago, before even the founding of the Kingdom of New Jersey itself, there was a man who attempted a two-week, 100-album Quarterly Review. He truly believed and was known to say to his goodlady wife, “Sure, I can do 100 releases in 10 days. That should be fine,” but lo, the gods did smite him for his hubris.
His punishment? That very same Quarterly Review.
Like the best of mythology, the lesson here is don’t be a dumbass and do things like 100-record Quarterly Reviews. Clearly this is a lesson I haven’t learned. Welcome to the next two weeks. Sorry for the typos. Let’s roll.
Quarterly Review #1-10:
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Nebula, Livewired in Europe
A busy 2023 continued on from a busy 2022 for SoCal heavy rockers Nebula as they supported their seventh album, Transmission From Mothership Earth (review here), and as filthy as was founding guitarist Eddie Glass‘ fuzz on that record, the nine-track (12 on the CD) Livewired in Europe pushes even further into the rawer stoner punk that’s always been at root in their sound. They hit Europe twice in 2023, in Spring and Fall, and in the lumbering sway of “Giant,” the drawl of “Messiah,” the Luciferian wink of that song and “Man’s Best Friend” earlier in the set, and the righteous urgency of what’s listed in the promo as “Down the Mother Fuckin’ Highway” or the shred-charged roll of “Warzone Speedwolf” in the bonus cuts, with bassist Ranch Sironi backing Glass on vocals and Mike Amster wailing away on drums — he’s the glue that never sounds stuck — they document the mania of post-rebirth Nebula as chaotic and forceful in kind, which is precisely what one would most hope for at the start of the gig. It’s not their first live outing, and hopefully it’s not the last either.
The self-recording/self-releasing Kamil Ziółkowski offers his second solo LP with The Land, following in short order from last Fall’s In Roundness (review here) and the two-songer issued a month after. At six songs and 35 minutes, The Land further distinguishes Mountain of Misery stylistically from Ziółkowski‘s main outfit, Spaceslug. Yes, the two bands share a penchant for textured tones and depth of mix (Haldor Grunberg at Satanic Audio mixed and mastered), and the slow-delivered melodic ‘gaze-style vocals are recognizable, but “The ’90s” puts Nirvana through this somewhat murky, hypnotic filter, and before its shimmering drone caps the album, on closer “Back Again,” the multi-instrumentalist/vocalist reminds a bit of Eddie Vedder. Seekers of nod will find plenty in “Awesome Burn” and the slightly harder-hitting “High Above the Mount” — desert rock in its second half, but on another planet’s desert — while the succession of “Path of Sound” and “Come on Down” feel specifically set to more post-rocking objectives; the plot and riffs likewise thickened. Most of all, it sounds like Mountain of Misery is digging in for a longer-term songwriting exploration, and quickly, and The Land only makes me more excited to find out where it’s headed.
The named-for-their-names trio Page Williams Turner is comprised of electronicist/mixer Michael Page (Sky Burial, many others), drummer/percussionist Robert Williams (of the harshly brilliant Nightstick) and saxophonist Nik Turner (formerly Hawkwind, et al), and the single piece broken into two sides on their Opposite Records self-titled debut is a duly experimentalist, mic-up-and-go extreme take on free psychedelic jazz, drone, industrial noisemaking, and time-what-is-time-signature manipulation. “Rorrim I” is drawn cinematically into an unstable wormhole circa its 14th minute, and teases serenity before the listener is eaten by a giant spider in some kind of unknowable ritual, and while “Rorrim II” feels less manic on average, its cycles, ebbs and flows remain wildly unpredictable. That’s the point, of course. If the combination of personnel and/or elements seems really, really weird on paper, you’re on the right track. This kind of thing will never be for everybody, but those who can get on its level will find it transportive. If that’s you, safe travels.
The spoken intro welcoming the listener to “the greatest and last show of your lives” at the head of the chugging “Mortician Magician” is a little over the top considering the straightforward vibe of much of what follows on the 10 tracks of 2023’s The Hex of Penn’s Woods from Pennsylvania-based heavy rockers Almost Honest, but whether it’s the banjo early or the cowbell later in “Haunted Hunter,” the post-Fu Manchu riffing and gang shouts of “Alien Spiders,” “Ballad of a Mayfly”‘s whistling, the organ in “Amish Hex” (video premiere here), the harmonies of “Colony of Fire,” a bit of sax on “Where the Quakers Dwell,” that quirk in the opener, the funk wrought throughout by Garrett Spangler‘s bass and Quinten Spangler‘s drumming, the metal-rooted intertwining of Shayne Reed and David Kopp‘s guitars or the structural solidity beneath all of it, the band give aural character to coincide with the regionalist themes based on their Pennsylvania Dutch, foothill-Appalachian surroundings, and they dare to make their third album’s 44 minutes fun in addition to thoughtful in its craft.
Based in Western Massachusetts, Buzzard is the solo-project of Christopher Thomas Elliott, and the title of his debut album, Doom Folk, describes his particular intention. As the 12-song/44-minute outing unfolds from the eponymous “Buzzard” at its outset (even that feels like a Sabbathian dogwhistle), the blend of acoustic and electric guitar forms the heart of the arrangements, but more than that, it’s doom and folk, stylistically, that are coming together. What makes it work is that Elliott avoids the trap of 2010s-ish neo-folk posturing as a songwriter, and while there’s a ready supply of apocalyptic mood in the lyrical storytelling and abundant amplified distortion put to dynamic use, the folk he’s speaking to is more traditional. Not lacking intricacy in their percussion, arrangements or melodies, you could nonetheless learn these songs and sing them. “Death Metal in America” alone makes it worth the price of admission, let alone the stellar “Lucifer Rise,” but the sweet foreboding and build of the subsequent “Harvester of Souls” gets even closer to Buzzard‘s intention in bringing together the two sides to manifest a kind of heavy that is immediately and impressively its own. Doom Folk on.
Mt. Echo begin their third full-length primed for resonance with the expansive, patiently wrought “Veil of Unhunger,” leading with their longest track (immediate points) as a way of bringing the listener into the record’s mostly instrumental course with a shimmer of post-rock and later-emerging density of tone. The Nijmegen trio’s follow-up to 2022’s Electric Empire (review here) plays out across a breadth that extends beyond the 44-minute runtime and does more in its pieces than flow smoothly between its loud/quiet tradeoffs. “Round and Round Goes the Crown” brings a guest appearance from Oh Hazar guitarist/vocalist Stefan Kollee that pushes the band into a kind of darker, thoroughly Dutch heavy prog, but even that shift is made smoother by the spoken part on “Brutiful Your Heart” just before, and not necessarily out of line with how “Set at Rest” answers the opener, or the rumble, nod and wash that cap with “If I May.” The overarching sense of growth is palpable, but the songs express more atmospherically than just the band pushing themselves.
They’re probably to raw and dug into Satanic cultistry to agree, but with Per “Hellbutcher” Gustavsson (Nifelheim) on vocals, guitarists Beelzeebubth (Mystifier, etc.) and Nikolas “Sprits” Moutafis (Mirror, etc.), bassist Taneli Jarva (Impaled Nazarene, etc.) and drummer Tasos Danazoglou (Mirror, ex-Electric Wizard, etc.) in the lineup for second LP God Damned You to Hell, it’s probably safe to call Friends of Hell a supergroup. Such considerations ultimately have little to do with how the rolling proto-NWOBHM triumphs of “Bringer of Evil” and “Arcane Macabre” play out, but it explains the current of extremity in their purposes that comes through at the start with the title-track and the severity that surrounds in the layering of “Ave Satanatas” as they journey into the underworld to finish with the eight-minute “All the Colors of the Dark.” You’re either going to buy the backpatch or shrug and not get it, and that seems like it’s probably fine with them.
Not to be confused with France’s Red Sun Atacama, Italian prog-heavy psych instrumentalists Red Sun mark their 10th anniversary with the release of their third album, From Sunset to Dawn, and run a thread of doom through the keyboardy “The Sunset Turns Purple” and “The Shape of Night” on side A to manifest ‘sunset’ while side B unfolds with airier guitar in “The Coldness of the New Moon” and “Towards the End of Darkness” en route to the raga-leaning “The New Sun,” but as much as there is to be said for the power of suggestion and narrative titling, it’s the music itself that realizes the progression described in the name of the album. With a clear influence from My Sleeping Karma in “The Coldness of the New Moon” and the blend of organic hand-percussion and digitized melody in “The New Sun,” Red Sun immerse the listener in the procession from the intro “Where Once Was Light” (mirrored by “Intempesto” at the start of side B) onward, with each song serving as a chapter in the linear concept and story.
Cinematic enough in sheer sound and the corresponding intensity of mood to warrant the visual collaboration with Kai Lietzke that accompanies the audio release, the collaboration between Hamburg electronic experimentalist Peter Wolff (Downfall of Gaia) and vocalist Jens Borgaard (Knifefight!, solo) moves between minimalist soundscaping and more consuming, weighted purposes. Moments like the beginning of “Transmit” might leave one waiting for when the Katatonia song is going to kick in, but Wolff & Borgaard engage on their own level as each of the nine pieces follows its own poetic course, able to be caustic like the culmination of “Observe” or to bring the penultimate “Extol” to silence gradually before “Reaper” bursts to life with clearly intentional contrast. I heard this or that streaming service is making a Blade Runner 2099 tv series. Sounds like a terrible idea, but it might just be watchable if Wolff & Borgaard get to do the score with a similar evocations of software and soul.
The Portland, Oregon, two-piece of guitarist/bassist/vocalist Benjamin Caragol (ex-Burials) and drummer Ben Stoller (currently also Simple Forms, Dark Numbers, ex-Vanishing Kids) do much to ingratiate themselves both to the crowded underground of which their hometown is an epicenter, and to the broader sphere of heavy-progressivism in modern doom and sludge. Across the five tracks of their self-released for now debut full-length, Glacial Erratic, the pair offer a panacea of heavy sounds, angular in the urgency of “Toeing the Line,” which opens, or the later thud of “Selective Memory” (the latter of which also appeared on their 2020 self-titled EP), which seem more kin to Baroness or Elder crashes and twists of “A Distant Light” or the interplay of ambience, roll, and sharpness of execution that’s been held in reserve for the nine-minute “Wounds at the Stem” as they leave off. Melody, particularly in Caragol‘s vocals, is crucial in tying the material together, and part of what gives Semuta such apparent potential, but they seem already to have figured out a lot about who they want to be musically. All of which is to say don’t be surprised when this one shows up on the list of 2024’s best debut albums come December.
Posted in Whathaveyou on August 4th, 2021 by JJ Koczan
As I understand it, this will be a series of benefit compilations, each one dedicated to a different cause. Fuzzwitch Ritual Vol. 1, put together at the combined significant behest of Abraxas Records, Fuzzrious and Bruxa Verde, will donate proceeds to Solidariedade Vegan. It’s got 17 bands from Brazil and beyond, and it costs all of three friggin’ dollars (minimum) through Bandcamp, so yeah, one way or the other the worst that happens is you pay a few bucks and check out some bands you might not’ve heard, even if you’re violently opposed somehow to homeless people eating healthy. Which, if you think about it, it probably a position you’ll want to reexamine at some point.
There’s a lot going on here, sound-wise, band-wise, label-wise, cause-wise, compilation-series-wise, but let the big takeaway be that this is a thing that’s happening, it might happen more, and I think it’s something worth your time and three bucks of your hard-earned. If you can’t donate and just want to listen, well, then you heard some cool tunes. Okay.
Here’s info:
The compilation Fuzzwitch Ritual is the result of a partnership between Bruxa Verde Produções and the labels Fuzzrious and Abraxas Records, three representative supporters of Brazilian’s Stoner related scene working through PR and divulgation activities, label’s releases and more.
Bringing together sixteen tracks from sixteen different bands from countries like Brazil, Mexico, Chile, Greece and the United States the compilation will be released at Bandcamp on August 6th and has as its motto the total reversal of sales values for the social cause of Solidariedade Vegan, a project managed by Brazilian punk rock legend João Gordo (Ratos de Porão) and his wife Vivi Torrico, where they develop a social work dedicated to feeding and supporting vulnerable people in homeless situation and also focused on vegan food.
This first edition of the project has prominent names from the national scene and also foreign bands such as Slow Voyage (Chile), Electric Cult (Mexico) and The Supernauts (Greece). Genres such as Stoner Rock, Doom Metal, Psychedelic Rock and Hard Rock are embraced by the compilation which aims to unite the labels and scenario linked to the social cause, with bands supported/released/published by the participating labels. Check out the tracklist of “Fuzzwitch Ritual Vol.1” below:
1. Korsunnuz – Cruise Control 2. Buzzard – Higher 3. Niles (Wisdom) 4. Electric Gravity – A Hand’s Worth of Dark 5. Space Smoke – Corpo Solar 6. The Supernauts – I Can´t Reach Myself 7. Lagarto Rei – Gardre 8. Desert Druid and the Acid Caravan – Total Madness 9. Mad Monkees – Sem Reação 10. Electric Cult – Sleep Demons 11. Peso Morto – Diante a Sentença do Tempo 12. Gods & Punks – Gravity 13. Weedevil – The Death is Coming 14. The Slow Voyage – Expansion 15. Murdock – Vingança das Bruxas 16. Grindhouse Hotel – Centaurus 17. Rolê da Tempestade – Gibagayte
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 12th, 2020 by JJ Koczan
Last time, when The Electric Highway 2020 called out its preliminary lineup, I decided to roll with calling it the inaugural-ish edition of the Calgary-based festival, as it’s grown out of the 420 Music & Arts Festival of years prior, but still, there’s no question they’re doing it up for the occasion of the new name and presentation. Poster art by none other than David Paul Seymour has been unveiled, Mothership have joined on with Sasquatch, Wo Fat and Duel near the top of a Texas-dominant lineup — Sasquatch being the outlier geographically — and a pre-show has been announced with Seattle’s Year of the Cobra crossing the border to headline. These updates would seem to complete the proceedings as they’ll proceed, but of course April’s still a couple months out and you know, subject to change and all that. Still, it looks like a pretty badass time if you can make it.
Info came down the PR wire:
Festival Line-Up Announced! All Roads Lead To The Electric Highway In Calgary, AB, Canada!
Buckle up for The Electric Highway Festival, two days of killer bands, rad artists and fuzzy vibes April 17 & 18, 2020 at the historic Royal Canadian Legion #1 in downtown Calgary, Alberta, Canada.
The Electric Highway Festival has completed its lineup with the addition of the mighty Mothership from Dallas, Texas. The Supersonic Intergalactic Heavy Rock trio’s goal from the beginning has been to carry on the tradition of the classic rock style of the ’70s, updated and amped up for the modern-day. Mothership have created a unique sound that satisfies like a steaming hot stew of UFO and Iron Maiden, blended with the southern swagger of Molly Hatchet and ZZ Top, paired with a deadly chalice of Black Sabbath. Do not miss this chance to hop on board and join Mothership as they tear across the Universal Cosmos!
The Electric Highway Festival has also added Vancouver’s Empress to the lineup. Both Mothership and Empress will be performing at the festival on Saturday, April 18, 2020. That brings the total number of bands performing during the festival to 22.
The Electric Highway Festival is excited to release its official artwork created by the renowned dark surreal artist David Paul Seymour. David Paul Seymour is an internationally known illustrator based in Minneapolis, MN who has created artwork for Municipal Waste, Conan, Mastodon as well as Shadow Weaver and Wo Fat who are both performing at The Electric Highway Festival in 2020. David Paul Seymour is also a driving force behind The Planet of Doom, an Animated Tale of Metal and Art and the creator of the Kumasan comic series.
The rest of the 2020 lineup brings an electric offering of North American bands featuring headliners Sasquatch and Wo Fat laying down their brand of fuzzy, kick-ass Desert Rock & Heavy Psych. Duel from Austin, Texas will be playing Canada for the 1st time at The Electric Highway Festival along with Hippie Death Cult & LáGoon both from Portland, Oregon. Festival favorites La Chinga return from Vancouver for their 4th appearance and Calgary’s Gone Cosmic & Buzzard from Victoria, BC are just a few more of the wicked bands that will be playing on two stages over the two days of The Electric Highway Festival, the full lineup below.
The Electric Highway Official Lineup: Sasquatch (Los Angeles, CA) Wo Fat (Dallas, TX) Mothership (Dallas, TX) Duel (Austin, TX) La Chinga (Vancouver, BC) Gone Cosmic (Calgary, AB) Hippie Death Cult (Portland, OR) LáGoon (Portland, OR) Buzzard (Victoria, BC) Chunkasaurus (Victoria, BC) Bazaraba (Calgary, AB) Shadow Weaver (Calgary, AB) Father Moon (Calgary, AB) Set & Stoned (Crossfield, AB) Row of Giants (Calgary, AB) Hemptress (Kamloops, BC) Pink Cocoon (Montreal, QC) The Sleeping Legion (Winnipeg, MB) The Basement Paintings (Saskatoon, SK) Empress (Vancouver, BC) Locutus (Calgary, AB) The Worst (Calgary, AB)
The Electric Highway Festival is also getting the whole thing started with a Kick-Off Party on Thursday, April 16th, 2020 at The Palomino Smokehouse & Social Club. This killer line up features Seattle powerhouse psychedelic doom duo Year of the Cobra as they return to Calgary. They will be joined by Calgary’s Bloated Pig, Outlaws of Ravenhurst, and newcomers Falcotron along with Red Deer’s Smoothsayer.
2 Day Festival Pass holders can pick up their wristbands a day early at The Electric Highway Festival Kick-Off Party. This event will be free for festival pass holders or $13 at the door for non-pass holders. (Space is limited so make sure to get their early!) Pre-order merch sales will also be available for pick up at this event too. Beat the lineup and come for some bands, beer & BBQ at the Pal!
Posted in Whathaveyou on November 6th, 2019 by JJ Koczan
A little bit of Cali, a little bit of Texas, a little bit of Portland, Oregon, and a whole lot of locals — the first lineup for The Electric Highway has been unveiled and the Calgary-based festival’s mission would seem to be directed toward kickass heavy and stoner rock. Thus, Sasquatch and Wo Fat headlining with Nebula and Duel also on board. And hey man, if you threw any kind of heavy rock and roll party in the entire nation of Canada — and Canada if frickin’ huge — and you didn’t at least invite La Chinga let alone actually have them play, your ass would just be negligent. That’s a band that’s never gonna do anything but make a strong rock bill stronger.
Calling this the inaugural The Electric Highway is fair enough, since it seems to be working under its own concept — pinball tournament! — but it formerly operated under the banner of the 420 Music and Arts Festival, and had a few years to its credit in that form. Still, a new name is a new name, so alright. Maybe “inaugural” with an asterisk. “Inaugural-ish.”
The PR wire has details. The fest has a hashtag that’s probably good advice anyway:
All Roads Lead To The Electric Highway Festival In Calgary, AB, Canada!
#BuckleUp baby, The Electric Highway is excited to announce our inaugural lineup! We wanted to put something special together for our first trip on the Highway and with over 20 bands in two daze, we think we have done exactly that…
Day One, Friday, April 17th Wo Fat from Dallas, Texas will be returning with their brand of Psychedelic Heavy Blues to headline night one, and we are flying in their bro’s in DUEL to share the stage with them that night too! Also laying waste to Friday night are BC’s Buzzard & CHUNKASAURUS, coming all the way from Portland, Oregon we have Hippie Death Cult & LáGoon, joining us from Montreal is PINK COCOON, and representing our amazing local scene will be Father Moon, Locutus, Row of Giants and The WORST.
Then on Day Two, Saturday, April 18th bringing the fuzz from California, we are STOKED AF to welcome back the mighty Sasquatch to headline our whole party and are psyched to have their buds Nebula along for the ride! As for the rest of Saturday, it just wouldn’t be a party without Vancouver’s La Chinga on the bill, along with local faves Gone Cosmic, Bazaraba, and Shadow Weaver from Calgary, Crossfield, Alberta’s Set & Stoned, Hemptress from Kamloops, BC, The Sleeping Legion from Winnipeg and rounding out our first lineup, from Saskatoon, The Basement Paintings.
The Electric Highway is taking place at the Royal Canadian Legion #1 in downtown Calgary, AB, Canada on April 17 & 18, 2020. Tickets go on sale at 10am MDT on Tuesday, November 5, 2019 at https://theelectrichighway.ecwid.com/.
The Electric Highway Official Lineup: Sasquatch (Los Angeles, CA) Wo Fat (Dallas, TX) Nebula (Los Angeles, CA) Duel (Austin, TX) La Chinga (Vancouver, BC) Gone Cosmic (Calgary, AB) Hippie Death Cult (Portland, OR) LáGoon (Portland, OR) Buzzard (Victoria, BC) Chunkasaurus (Victoria, BC) Bazaraba (Calgary, AB) Shadow Weaver (Calgary, AB) Father Moon (Calgary, AB) Set & Stoned (Crossfield, AB) Row of Giants (Calgary, AB) Hemptress (Kamloops, BC) Pink Cocoon (Montreal, QC) The Sleeping Legion (Winnipeg, MB) The Basement Paintings (Saskatoon, SK) Locutus (Calgary, AB) The Worst (Calgary, AB)
