There’s no way All Souls would know this, but I’ve always imagined the end of the world coming in October. Aside from it being the month of my birth, it also happened to be the first of several apocalypses my father believed would consume humanity in his end-days religious zealotry. Oct. 14, 1994, I think it was. I was 12 about to turn 13. That was a fun kind of abuse. Consuming more than bruising.

Anyhoozle, while we’re being vulnerable, I’ll note the resonant emotional undercurrent that stems from Only the best writing service can promise you top grades for the hop over to here. Trust our professional writers to make it all look simple. All Souls‘ second album, Our Essay writing services UK at TrueEssayHelp is incredibly out class and if you need best http://www.sayhomebuy.com/blog/thesis-on-evaluation-of-guidance-services/ then this should be your only choice. Songs for the End of the World. That’s particularly apparent in the track “Winds,” which is streaming at the bottom of this post, along with the prior-unveiled video for “You Just Can’t Win.” Students all over the world use our dissertation qui peut me dire ce que je dois faire service, and here are customers from these universities who approve our services. We know that most All Souls — which features veteran players of at affordable essay writing service. Cheap prices, money back guarantee! Totimoshi, Looking for http://www.kpria.cz/?homework-help-algebra online Just upload your files Free Quote 100+ Languages Free Trial 12 Hours TAT. Black Elk and i need help for my homework is one of the most often question we hear at our paper writing service! CollegePaperServices.com can fully satisfy your demands in Fatso Jetson — will have the record out on Oct. 2, and let me just save you the trouble and say you should preorder it. That’s available at their Bandcamp.

To the PR wire:

All Souls – Songs For The End Of The World – Oct. 2

Los Angeles quartet All Souls share the first single from their forthcoming sophomore album Songs for the End of the World today.

A stunning animated video for album track “You Just Can’t Win” was released earlier this year. Watch the dark portents via YouTube.

All Souls formed in Los Angeles in the winter of 2016 and have gone from playing local gigs to performing in theaters and arenas. Featuring Tony Tornay (Fatso Jetson, Josh Homme’s Desert Sessions, Deep Dark Robot with Linda Perry) Antonio Aguilar and Meg Castellanos (Totimoshi) and Erik Trammell (Black Elk), they were recently hand-picked to tour with Tool, The Jesus Lizard, (the)MELVINS, and Meat Puppets.

All Souls creates songs that are lyrically dark, infused with the band’s unique style and perspective on the state of today’s world. Their music has been described as intelligent, majestic, exciting and original. They are unafraid to bridge into big open spaces discovering new wastelands; ultimately stepping from dark to light.

Throughout 2016, the quartet — Aguilar [vocals, guitar], Castellanos [bass, vocals], Trammell [guitar], and Tornay [drums] — recorded what would become their self-titled full-length debut, All Souls, during intermittent sessions at Sound of Sirens Studio in Los Angeles with producer Toshi Kasai known for his work with Tool, Foo Fighters and (the) MELVINS.

Following tours with the likes of Red Fang, The Sword, Kvelertak, and Torche, the band released All Souls in 2018 via Sunyata — the label founded by iconic Screaming Trees and Mad Season drummer Barrett Martin. Earmarked by Spaghetti Western-style expanse and rough-and-tumble riffing, the music proudly bears the wild wear-and-tear of the nineties Palm Desert scene with a twist of psychedelic voodoo and metallic edge.

For Aguilar and Castellanos, the music spoke to a dormant primal need that harked back to their time in the fan favorite underground mainstay Totimoshi.

All Souls just-completed second album which they recorded in 2019, Songs for the End of the World, reunites them with Kasai. This follow-up recording is an evolution for the band. Aguilar’s distinctive vocals are at times lyrically bleak and deeply personal, set against a musical backdrop that challenges listeners with inventive songwriting and ethereal melodies. Tornay’s explosive drumming matched with Trammell’s innovative guitar and Castellanos’ low end and feminine back-up vocals lend to their power and unique approach. One could say they are connecting the dots between Led Zeppelin to the Pixies, Soundgarden to the Cure all the while carving their own road with authenticity.

Songs for the End of the World will be available on LP, CD and digital on October 2nd, 2020. Pre-orders are available HERE: https://allsoulsband.bandcamp.com/

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All Souls, Songs for the End of the World (2020)

All Souls, “You Just Can’t Win” official video

A pleasant surprise from out of the California desert in that Looking for best essay writers? Read the most trustful essay resume writing services nashville tn and get your discounts! Big Scenic Nowhere are following up their 2020 full-length debut, Our look at this site save you time, and is done professionally. Articulating your product or service to engage the visitors of your website. Vision Beyond Horizon (review here) on a quick turnaround with the new Visit ace http://www.kvalitne-tepelne-cerpadla.sk/negative-articles-on-buy-essay/ where you post your homework, and qualified scholars will do it for you. You can check any acemyhomework review online, Lavender Blues EP. You can add this to the onslaught list of releases Essay Help Mba block - Quality essays at reasonable prices available here will make your studying into pleasure Forget about those sleepless Tony Reed has in the coming months, what with his own solo debut impending as well as sundry thisses and thats from what i really wanted to write in my admissions essays essay online trading 1 page essay dissertation services uk doctoral Mos Generator, as he’s a core member here, along with Have no time to write a research paper? Choose successful future for yourself - Phd Thesis On Polymer Composites written by the best experts in your field of study Bob Balch of You don't have free time to study, and you think: 'who can check?' You are in the right place! Get homework help from experts Fu Manchu — who’ve been self-releasing a series of EPs that I sadly have yet to hear — and The Fastest Online write essay on honesty is the best policy. Trusted By 3000+ Corporate Clients. Start in 30min. 12 hours delivery. From 29 $/hr. Gary Arce and essays on the help for free - Use this service to get your sophisticated paper delivered on time receive a 100% original, plagiarism-free thesis you Bill Stinson of Yawning Man, who are soon to release a live CD/DVD. I guess everybody’s busy, come to think of it. Fair enough.

Also returning is Per Wiberg — because if you can have Per Wiberg play keys on your record, then, yes, you do that — and newcomers to the fold include guitarist Daniel “Chewy” Mongrain of Voivod and none other than desert rock’s master of ceremonies producer Chris Goss, whose Masters of Reality were due to make a comeback this Spring with a new album and European tour before… well, before. Sadly he apparently doesn’t contribute vocals here, only guitar, but I’ll take what I can get.

Three new songs? Sign me up.

Here’s info as posted on social media:

BIG SCENIC NOWHERE is mixing a new E.P. named “Lavender Blues” right now. Three jams from our three day session back in November of 2019. We’ll post some clips soon! This E.P. will be released in the fall. Here is a list of the players involved….

Gary Arce (Yawning Man) guitar
Bob Balch (Fu Manchu) guitar, bass
Tony Reed (Mos Generator) bass, vocals, synth, guitar
Bill Stinson (Yawning Man) drums
Per Wiberg (Opeth, Spiritual Beggars) synth, piano
Daniel Mongrain (Voivod) guitar
Chris Goss (Masters Of Reality) guitar

Artwork by @haxloeffler
Mixed and Mastered by Tony Reed

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Big Scenic Nowhere, Vision Beyond Horizon (2020)

And a significant ensemble it is. Traveling from his native Denmark to San Diego, California, guitarist Jonas Munk of heavy psych innovators Causa Sui was set to meet up in Sept. 2019 with Brian Ellis (Astra, Psicomagia, Birth, etc.) whose solo work has been issued through Causa Sui‘s label, El Paraiso Records. By the account in the liner notes for the release, it wasn’t the first time Munk made the trip, but it would seem to have been an occasion nonetheless, as Munk and Ellis, based in Escondido, were to spearhead what has been tagged as the Ellis/Munk Ensemble featuring players from bands like Radio Mosow, Sacri Monti, Psicomagia, Joy and others. It’s a pretty extensive roster. To wit:

Brian Ellis (keys) – Astra, Silver Sunshine, Brian Ellis Group, Psicomagia, Birth, etc.
Jonas Munk (guitar) – Causa Sui, various solo-projects and collaborations

Plus:
Dominic Denholm (bass) – Monarch
Thomas DiBenedetto (drums/guitar) – Sacri Monti, Monarch, ex-Joy
Dylan Donovan (guitar) – Sacri Monti, Pharlee
Paul Marrone (drums) – Astra, Cosmic Wheels, Radio Moscow, Psicomagia, Birth, Brian Ellis Group
Trevor Mast (bass) – Birth, ex-Joy, Psicomagia, Brian Ellis Group
Anthony Meier (bass/keys) – Sacri Monti, Radio Moscow
Conor Riley (keys) – Astra, Silver Sunshine, Birth
Andrew Velasco (percussion) – Love, the City & Space
Andrew Ware (drums) – Monarch
Evan Wenskay (organ) – Sacri Monti
Kyre Wilcox (bass) – Truth on Earth

The most striking thing about this lineup — aside from the fact that among the 12 participants, there are no women — is the sheer amount of overlap. Members of Sacri Monti playing in Monarch and Joy, members of Astra resurfacing in Birth, and so on. Like any scene worthy of the designation, San Diego is plenty incestuous, but in no small part that’s essential to what makes it the heavy psych haven it’s become. The entire situation is fluid, so how could the music be anything else?

With Munk‘s arrival in town as impetus for the get-together, San Diego Sessions arrives (via El Paraiso) as seven tracks/48 minutes carved out from these several evenings’ worth of jams and fits with Munk and Ellis‘ apparently shared vision of the stylistic interaction between psychedelia and jazz. Indeed, the stated comparison is to Miles Davis‘ Bitches Brew, and track titles like “Pauly’s Pentacles,” “Munk’s Dream” — as opposed to “Monk’s Dream,” i.e. Thelonius Monk — and “Larry’s Jungle Juice” honor that tradition as well, as does the immediate thrust and twist of 10-plus-minute opener “The Wedge,” which features eight players, three of whom are on keys, and sets a tone with scorching runs of lead guitar atop intricate rhythmic turns.

One thing: they picked their drummers right. In Marrone, DiBenedetto and Ware, the Ellis/Munk Ensemble — whoever else happens to be around at any given moment — have some of the best San Diego’s underground has to offer on board when it comes to drums, Mario Rubalcaba of Earthless notwithstanding. With this foundation, guitarists like Munk — who appears on every track except the penultimate madcap freakout “Larry’s Jungle Juice”; Ellis likewise sits out the brief but spacious “Munk’s Dream” — Donovan and DiBenedetto are able to freely explore various reaches and textures of sound, and so the variety of San Diego Sessions stems as much from its sonic moods as from its personnel.

Still, much of the tone — and much of the album, frankly — happens at the outset with “The Wedge” and “Pauly’s Pentacles.” As the latter tops 11 minutes, the two songs comprise 22 of the total 48-minute stretch here, so not an insignificant portion, and more important, it’s in them that the spirit of San Diego Sessions is established in looking toward the aforementioned tradition of the jazz session. “The Wedge” locks in a solid groove early before spinning heads with guitar and keys alike, and “Pauly’s Pentacles” turns more mellow lead vibes into a vibrant apex ahead of dipping into a bit of cosmic funk, the drifting end of which is a suitable transition into the ethereal “Munk’s Dream” — the shortest inclusion at just 2:24 but an atmospheric highlight nonetheless.

By the time, then, that they dip into album-centerpiece “Electric Saloon,” which runs just under nine minutes long, the expectation is wide open for what might actually take place within that span of time but set in the sphere of heavy psychedelic improv. “Bucket Drips,” which follows, is another more meditative vibe, so “Electric Saloon” is given a mindful showcase, led into and out of as it is. It’s a two-sided LP and certainly there’s a flow across the span as one jam ends or fades out and the next arrives, but one might think of San Diego Sessions as taking place in three distinct movements: the opening two, the middle three, and the finishing two. Elements of personality drift in and out along the way — much like the people — but the way in which the pieces complement each other, right up to how the finishing chase of “Larry’s Jungle Juice” gives way to the smoother procession of “Stone Steps” to close out with a relative wash of keys, is such that each chapter has something of its own to offer the listener.

There is further nuance to how the pieces are arranged and how they bleed from one to the next that one might point out, but what that goes to underscore is the fact that San Diego Sessions has been carved out from the raw material that emerged over those nights. It’s got its warts-and-all feel intact, but one assumes there was more recorded than appears in the completed product. Maybe that means a San Diego Sessions 2 is in the offing, or maybe these were all the highlights; I don’t know. But Ellis/Munk Ensemble captures a special stretch of time when talented players — many of whom already had established chemistry from years of collaboration in various bands — joined together to welcome a friend into the fold.

The instrumental and improvisational nature of the record might mean that not every listener is up for making the trip, but what comes through most of all in the tracks is the feeling of celebration, of challenging each other, of playing with sound and technique like the implements of magic they are, and of enjoying all of it. That atmosphere is infectious.

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The apocalyptic intensity conjured by San Diego one-man machine-doom/industrial outfit Author & Punisher has garnered praise far and wide over the better part of the last decade, and certainly the fact that Tristan Shone started the project over 15 years ago and has had a broad influence on the current heavy underground fascination with industrial sounds is a part of why. When it comes to artists and bands so hyped, as Author & Punisher has been at least since Ursus Americanus and Women & Children came out on Seventh Rule and more people began to experience it live, with Shone‘s homemade-or-at-least-workshop-made “drone machines” taking the place of instruments and serving rhythmic and melodic functions while he shouts into a custom vocal processor — quite a sight — my immediate response is to shut it out. The thing about most hyperbole? It’s bullshit. And very often it’s not so much about the artist involved as the person writing wanting to be ‘the one who said so.’ It is as much ego on the part of writer as it is plaudit of the work, and I think it’s gross. Total turnoff, and as a result, I’m less inclined to really dig into an album or whatever it is because, well, ugh, so chic.

Am I always right? Nope. But the thing about music is it’s not a race to be first to find a thing, and once a record’s out, it’ll still be there after the fever-pitch has come down a bit. There’s a certain freedom in being late to the party. Thus it is that I’ve recently taken on Author & Punisher‘s Beastland, which is positioned as Shone‘s sixth long-player (though I’m not sure how that count actually works). Issued in 2018 as a first offering through Relapse Records, it is a smartly-executed eight-track/36-minute collection that wastes neither its own nor your time, and Shone‘s connection to doom can be felt not so much in the audio itself — though certainly the sounds he makes are weighted, sometimes cruelly so — but in the structures and traditions he’s following. As one might expect, there’s a good deal of influence from Trent Reznor and Nine Inch Nails to be felt throughout — and how Reznor isn’t beating down Shone‘s door to collaborate, I don’t know — but the lumbering tempos that punctuate most of Beastland, from “Pharmacide” and the shouty single “Nihil Strength” into the noise-soaked “Ode to Bedlam” onward, certainly offer a thread. Also a threat. Further, the fullness of sound and depth of the mix, Shone‘s vocals being alternately buried and at the fore, sometimes switching in the span of a lyric, as on “Ode to Bedlam,” which is the shortest inclusion at 3:29 and soon devolves into noise and drone before building back as a transition to the more melodic centerpiece duo “The Speaker is Systematically Blown” and “Nazarene,” both of which dare to be catchy and soaring in their duly-blown-out melody, more brazenly so even than “Nihil Strength,” the very beat of which is a hook unto itself.

And like a more traditional doom record, as Beastland moves into side B, the palette expands, from the angularity and atmosphere of “Apparition” into the closing pair “Night Terror” and “Beastland” itself, the former which dons a techno siren at the outset and moves into a steady hum and roll that cycle through and pull apart in a way that feels built outward from the false restart at the end of “Nazarene,” and the latter title-track which is more purely a work of ambient noisy chaos, still set to a beat as much of it is. “Night Terror” and “Beastland” both top six minutes, with the finale echoing Blade Runner in its echoing keyboard melodies like ethereal horns sounding, even as static grit underlies and Shone‘s voice follows the notes. Beastland ends with a churn and a plod that fades into what seems to be a last grunted exhale, which runs counter to the kind of inhuman(e) aural assault that much of the record has provided but is a reminder nonetheless that there’s a person behind the operation of all these robotics and all these willfully horrifying sounds.

If you’ve ever seen Author & Punisher, you probably don’t need me to describe what it’s like, with Shone surrounded by these machines of his own making, becoming the machine himself, etc., layers on layers of multimedia metaphor. I’m not inclined to add to the din of praise that’s been heaped on dude for the last however long — though by all accounts I’ve heard, he’s a nice guy, and the very, very least one can say of his work is that it’s innovative, and that’s before you get to the quality of the songcraft, which is palpable in a manner beyond whatever novelty of the individualized aesthetic — but the influence he’s had on others is plain to hear in these songs, and as bands and groups pick up on Shone‘s ends, if not the means, and hopefully adapt that to their own styles, that only stands Author & Punisher out as all the more singular. What strikes me about listening to it rather than watching it, though, isn’t the forward nature of the aggression. That’s there, sure enough, but it’s the methodical feel of so much of what Shone brings to bear. By its nature, you can’t really call Author & Punisher raw in how it’s made — it would seem just to require too much effort, as opposed to plugging in a guitar and letting rip — but there is a drive toward the primal in some of the underlying simplicity of the beats, that when you strip away all the surrounding and sometimes overwhelming cacophony, feels markedly and purposefully primitive. Organic? Maybe.

Maybe that’s Shone himself serving as the unifying presence in what he calls his ‘control room.’ Fair enough. Shone is set to tour Europe in January with Igorrr, though of course life itself remains a shrug-and-wait-and-see kind of deal for the time being, so Author & Punisher has opted to share videos from a recent tour opening for Tool instead. As to what comes next, if it’s more dystopia, at least I know whose records to put on.

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

—

The mornings have become a challenge, though perhaps not as much of one as they could be. The Pecan has been waking up around 6:30, which feels like a gift. General process is The Patient Mrs. gets the puppy — Omi; now permanent title, short for Iommi — and I get him. She takes dog out, I change a usually-poop-filled diaper. Potty training is a process. Anyway, it’s when she comes back in with the dog that he gets super-excited, then the dog gets excited, and the energy feedback loop ignites. Once he’s cleaned up, he goes where he goes, and inevitably, he’s going for the dog. But he’s still two — that’s exactly how my wife and I say it: still two; it has been a very long year — and so can’t really handle it. He gets worked up, gets worried, then inevitably swats at or kicks at Omi and, yeah, that shit just doesn’t work for me.

Yesterday and today, she stayed in the kitchen while I made him breakfast before coming to work on this post, and The Patient Mrs. and I have been switching off one and the other. It’s easier to get work done with the dog than the kid, so whoever’s working has Omi and whoever’s got The Pecan has The Pecan. That’s her right now. I’ll go in the other room in a little bit and trade off so she can work, and she’ll take the dog. It’s not so cut and dry as all that — most of the time I give him breakfast since he eats better for me; I’m not shy about shoving food in his mouth — but it’s Friday and she knows I like to end the week early, so I am grateful for the chance to bang this out.

Dog’s asleep somewhere in this room. Kid’ll get a bath in a bit — I took a break from writing during the second-to-last paragraph of the Author & Punisher writeup above (could you tell?) and we went for a run, which now that it’s pouring rain, I’m glad we did — so I’ll handle that and hopefully The Patient Mrs. doesn’t get saddled with too much what we call “puppy time” and usually seems to involve chewed shoes, feet, or furniture, or peeing on the floor.

The key to little things — dogs or people — is wearing them out. Walks for the dog, runs for the kid. Fine in the summer, though I guess we made it through this winter, and plague-permitting we’ll make it through the next. I have a bit before I need to worry about it, anyhow.

I hope you and yours are well. I’ve been struggling with having put on a bit of weight, and trying to manage that while at the same time dealing with other stresses. All anxiousness immediately goes to food/body image for me, which, if I needed further proof of disordered eating, there it is. Didn’t need that proof.

So.

My father fell on July 3 and has been in the hospital since then, in Allentown, Pennsylvania. He’s 77, I think. He was planning to move from nearby his sister in North Carolina to Allentown to be close to other friends and live in a retirement community. This was a move I advised against voraciously and was ignored. My mother, same on one of the rare occasions they spoke. Ahead of his move, he was staying with a friend and fell backwards down a flight of stairs. Portrait of an old man, falling.

Okay.

Among my family — and given the further-than-arm’s-length nature of our relationship, this feels surreal to say — I am probably the one in recent years who has been most in touch with him. We communicate semi-regularly. We have nothing much in common beyond blood and name — though the older I get… — but we keep it light, avoid politics or discussion of my mother or sister when possible, and there you go. He’s shown increasing signs of dementia over the last few years — he forgot he met my son, for example — and since his fall has been what the hospital case worker described to me as “confused.” He doesn’t know where he is, doesn’t always know what year it is or who he is.

Okay.

Though he and my mother have been separated for the last 25 years, they’ve never officially divorced. Why? I don’t know. Holdover stigma? My mother, a teacher 11 years retired, has decent state insurance and has kept him on it all this time, but because the American healthcare system is fucked — something COVID has only aggravated — Medicaid can maybe go after her assets to cover the cost of longterm care, which he’ll need since he has to relearn how to walk, and this lengthy hospital stay. This week, we all got on Zoom with a divorce attorney. I was writing the Turtle Skull news post on Wednesday when that happened; it just finally went up today. It’s been a lot.

But okay.

Court appoints a custodian once it’s proved my father is non compos mentis, which should not be a challenge, and I guess everything moves forward at a snail’s pace there. In the meantime, The Patient Mrs. and I have started mortgage proceedings to buy the house we live in from my mother, who inherited it from my grandmother, so there’s that additional layer of something-happening over the last couple weeks, which along with puppy, kid, pandemic, fascism, on and on and on and on, has meant that, among other things, I was feeling too overwhelmed to put together a Gimme Radio show this week.

It’ll be back on in two weeks.

Okay.

I’m exhausted now, so I must be finished, and in any case, it’s time for me to trade off dog for kid with The Patient Mrs., who has more than earned that title during this period. My only regret is not calling her The Brilliant Mrs., because even more than her patience with me — which is ample — it is the continued light she shines that makes my life possible. I have said this before and will continue to say it until I die: she is the center around which my universe spins.

I hope you have a great and safe weekend. Please be well most of all, and thank you for reading, whether or not you still are.

FRM.

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Record rules. I mean it. The psychedelic experimentation, synths, keyboards and all that, has progressed to different levels of space and pretty much what happened with krautrock back during the original krautrock movement birthing electronic pop is happening again with White Manna, only weirder and thus more awesome. It’s the band’s seventh album and I’m not gonna say I was Johnny Groundfloor on these guys — I wasn’t — but I’ve been on board for a couple records at this point and they haven’t let me down in terms of what they bring to prog, psych and spaced-out vibes. I’ve got more digging to do with the all-caps ARC, but if you want my initial impression, it’s right there in the first sentence.

Vinyl info and more background follows, as per the PR wire, as well as the streaming tracks “Mythic Salon” and “Zosser” for your perusal.

So peruse:

NEW RELEASE: White Manna – ARC – 8/28/20

Centripetal Force (in conjunction with Cardinal Fuzz for UK/Europe) presents the seventh full length album from veteran psychonauts White Manna. Long recognized as one of the leaders of the modern psychedelic movement, White Manna’s ARC builds upon an already impressive discography and further develops the band’s always evolving approach to sound and songwriting. This nine song journey sees the band exploring new directions that are more meditative in nature, a welcome development in light of the current state of world affairs. The song “Mythic Salon” certainly demonstrates such intent, as well as growth.

ARC, the band’s first release since last year’s Ape on Sunday, was recorded at guitarist Anthony Taibi’s 3D Light Studios in Humboldt County, California. The songwriting this time around took on more of an inward process, both musically and thematically.This shift allowed for more spontaneity and improvisation than their previous efforts. This was especially true when it came to translating musical passages that had already become part of the band’s live repertoire. ARC is not a concept album per se, but its focus on such an omnipresent icon certainly leaves the listener a variety of avenues for interpretation, making this the most daring and unique album in the White Manna discography.

– 500 copy pressing, 200 cream and 300 black.

– Record comes housed in a 350 gram gloss laminated sleeve with download code.

– Mastered by Chris Hardman. Cover art by Rachel Duffy.

– In addition to the theme of ARChetypes, John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress and the works of Robert Anton Wilson play a role in shaping the themes and direction of the album.

White Manna is:
David J
Anthony Taibi
Johnny Webb
Tavan Anderson
Dominic Talvola
Charlie Love

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White Manna, ARC (2020)

The return after some five years of the Ty Segall-fronted heavy rockers Fuzz is only bound to find welcome, and freaks in the know will likewise nod approvingly at their choice of producer for their aptly-titled third record, III. Set to issue via In the Red Records, III is helmed by the esteemed Steve Albini, whose reputation for capturing a band’s live sound is second to none for good reason — for easy reference and to do yourself a favor more generally, go listen to Neurosis or Weedeater or any number of the other countless acts he’s produced whom you might’ve seen on a stage when that was a thing that happened.

As to what Albini might bring to Fuzz, they’re streaming the opening track “Returning” now, so it’s easy enough to get a sampling. Say, at the bottom of this post. All about convenience here.

Fresh off the PR wire:

FUZZ announce new album on In The Red Records

Share new track “Returning”

One only knows one. Two is balanced therefore stagnant. III both active and reactive. Charles Moothart, Ty Segall and Chad Ubovich are FUZZ. FUZZ is three. And III has returned. Songs for all, and music for one.

III was recorded and mixed at United Recording under the sonic lordship of Steve Albini. Keeping the focus on the live sounds of the band, the use of overdubs and studio tricks were kept to a minimum. Albini’s mastery in capturing sound gave FUZZ the ability to focus entirely on the playing while knowing the natural sounds would land. It takes the essential ingredients of “guitar based music” and “rock and roll power trio” and puts them right out on the chopping block. It was a much more honest approach for FUZZ — three humans getting primitive, staying primitive. The goal was never to reinvent the wheel. Sometimes it’s just about seeing how long you can hold on before you’re thrown off.

FUZZ
III
In The Red

Released 23rd October 2020

Tracklist
1. Returning
2. Nothing People
3. Spit
4. Time Collapse
5. Mirror
6. Close Your Eyes
7. Blind To Vines
8. End Returning

Three points reflected in three Mirrors; a pyramid of sonic destruction and psychic creation. Nothing People feed the roots while the freaks fly free in the treetops – Blind to Vines, Eyes Closed, Stuck in Spit, triumphing the Returning of beginnings and Ends Returning while beginning to see the Time Collapse. Love is the only way to annihilate hate, and Sketchy freaks live to bleed. All shades of color, truth and lies, III is the pillar of unity and singularity. All is nothing, and only nothing can generate everything. Log out, drop thought, turn up.

Engineered by Steve Albini
Assistant Engineer Scott Moore
Mixed by Steve Albini and Fuzz
Recorded and Mixed at United Recording August 22-30 2019
Cover Photography Denée Segall
Artwork Tatiana Kartomten
Layout Denée Segall
All songs written and arranged by Fuzz

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Fuzz, “Returning”

I could live a thousand years and never be cool enough to have my opinion about a Sumac record mean jack shit to anyone. Their albums have gotten such a mountainous slosh of press hyperbole that really anything I have to say just adds to the laudatory din. If I’m like, “Hey, this Sumac record is pretty good,” in a forest, do the trees appreciate the insight? No, because they’ve all been cut down to make the fancy glossy magazines that have doused superlatives on the band since their inception. I’ll be lucky if I get to hear it before it’s released.

I dig Sumac though, and the records earn that cloying cred, so I’ll still likely find some way to write about May You Be Held. I’ve Quarterly Reviewed their other LPs, so yeah, that seems about right. Enough space to say, “Golly this is important and forward thinking,” without going on too long and making an ass out of myself. To myself.

Be informed:

SUMAC announce sprawling new album May You Be Held Out on Sept. 18th, 2020

Expressionistic metal ensemble SUMAC have announced their new album, May You Be Held, out September 18th. Picking up where the band left off with 2018’s critically acclaimed Love in Shadow, the trio of Aaron Turner (ISIS, Old Man Gloom), Brian Cook (Russian Circles), and Nick Yacyshyn (Baptists) push further into the extreme polarity of their sound with their latest collection of long-form composition and free-form exploration. Meticulously detailed and complex one moment, rudimentary and repetitive the next, and completely untethered and unscripted at seemingly random intervals—May You Be Held is an album that fluctuates between extreme discipline and control on one end and an almost feral energy on the other.

“As an artist in this time of significant upheaval, society seemingly having reached the end of its current iteration, it’s of critical importance to absorb and interpret this process of dissolution – and of the transformation that hopefully follows it” says Turner. “While I don’t believe we’re on the brink of collective destruction precisely now, this is clearly a pivotal stage in the story of humankind – and there is something that feels right about this music at this exact and very uncertain moment.”

SUMAC’s work has always been about transition between different states of being. Our sense of normal, and indeed our sense of life, is now being shaken. We don’t know what is coming next. We are looking for pointers towards the future, as well as things to hold onto in the moment. This is a fundamental aspect of May You Be Held’s larger theme. Musically, it’s about continual unification and divergence, and is imbued with the uncertainty inherent in that cycle. In that uncertainty there is also hope, frustration, madness, and a desire for connection. All this too is part of this moment in our history—everything happening at once, the simultaneous emergence of humanity’s best and worst characteristics. Lyrically, May You Be Held follows the humanistic themes explored on Love in Shadow, partially informed by Turner’s navigation of fatherhood and family life. “It’s clear humans have figured out many ways over the centuries to acclimate to adverse circumstances, and even to thrive in them,” Turner says. “My hope for our family, humanity and future generations, is that we find our way by doing what we have always done—invent, adapt, band together, and ideally, hold each other up through love and kindness.”

May You Be Held was recorded throughout 2017, 2018 and 2019 by Kurt Ballou at Robert Lang Studios, Matt Bayles at The Unknown, and at House of Low Culture.

SUMAC – May You Be Held tracklist:
1. A Prayer for Your Path
2. May You Be Held
3. The Iron Chair
4. Consumed
5. Laughter and Silence

Pre-order SUMAC’s May You Be Held: http://thrilljockey.com/products/may-you-be-held

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Sumac, St Vitus 09?/?07?/?2018 (2020)

Forlesen‘s Hierophant Violent is of as many genres as it isn’t. The Bay Area three-piece of Ascalaphus (vocals, guitar, synth, harmonium), Bezaelith (vocals, guitar, bass, more synth) and Maleus (drums) boast a pedigree that includes cred-heavy outfits like Botanist, Lotus Thief and Kayo Dot, among others, but what Forlesen do isn’t so much to combine aspects of other bands as to unite creative impulses toward an immediately individualized purpose. To be sure, the noms de guerres trio have a foundation in black metal, but the two extended pieces of Hierophant Violent — “Following Light” (17:53) and “Nightbridge” (18:14) — are no more black metal than doom, than post-rock, than drone, than goth, than post-metal, and so on, depending on which stretch of either track one happens to be hearing at a given time. The true miracle of the debut release, which is out through Hypnotic Dirge Records, is that it is not disjointed at all, but instead, only benefits from the sonic diversity, building the proverbial whole that is stronger than the sum of its parts as each piece unfolds, distinct from the other but joined together by a an overarching ambience goes beyond the simple presence of synth among the guitar, bass and drums. Like the Benjamin A. Vierling cover art that adorns it, it is rife with symbolism and depth, the dual-vocals intertwining or each holding sway on their own as the record progresses, the songs weeding out the impatient quickly by means of gradual openings laced with drone.

In “Following Light,” the beginning establishes not just a gradual pace and the atmosphere that continues to play out across the entirety of the record, but it is a bit of worldbuilding as well, its resonance and far-off melodies of voice and harmonium sounding as though they’re coming down a hallway, stone walls surrounding, something otherworldly but inexplicably natural. A subtle progression is under way that shortly before five minutes gives way to Vangelis-style synth soundscaping, the tension moving the song forward as much as the keys themselves, and soon enough, organ joins in and a swell of noise and drone — not all of it melodic — has begun. There is a rhythm to the undulations, and a kind of mechanical banging, but it’s not until after seven minutes that the drums join in with a wash of cymbals, a cacophony emerging that recedes as quickly as it came, with the first clear vocal lines arriving at about 9:30 with the lyric, “So goes the darkness following light/Temple of sorrow blinds my eyes.” Ritual it is, then. So be it. Behind Bezaelith‘s voice, the ride cymbal has set a march, and guitar strums in with a slow riff to match, and at 11:08, a more forward progression takes hold, pushing ahead with the keys bringing an edge of melody as the guitar echo out in post-everything fashion and both voices, answered by deep-seated ambient shouts, run through the final verse, mournful despite serving as something of an apex to the song. “Following Light” proceeds with more shouts in the distance and melody up front until a snap just after 15 minutes in breaks the drums and the consuming begins; the riff seeming to eat itself as it goes measure by measure until, finally, it does, leaving Bezaelith to finish over residual synth.

To compare, the beginning of “Nightbridge” is quick in bringing Ascalaphus‘ first lines, spoken though they are over more quiet drones. The cinematic purpose here, the textural nature of what Forlesen are doing on what is unquestionably one of 2020’s best debut albums and marked accomplishment besides that, is not to be understated, and when I said “worldbuilding” before, it wasn’t exaggeration. Hierophant Violent is emotionally grueling and demanding of attention. If you’re listening and you’re not paying attention, you’ll simply miss it. Headphones, solitude, whatever it takes — it earns that effort on the part of the listener. Beats begin in frenetic fashion behind the still-calm vocals, and stop as a distorted shout leads to airy but subdued atmospherics, Ascalaphus still at the forefront. Just before five and a half minutes in, a keyboard line welcomes Bezaelith in self-harmonized layers — not quite chants, but evocative of them — and in another minute, a more weighted guitar line enters and the drums begin their next march, calling to mind some of Bell Witch‘s lumbering that is both shimmering and dark, beautiful and loaded down with mourning. Bezaelith matches notes with the keys (or harmonium?) and is joined by Ascalaphus and more layering, the lyrics making plain the nightbridge in question is a reference to death as a kind of crossing over to nothingness: “So goes this harvest of time’s dominion.”

Far-back black metal-style screams recite those lines and a swatch of others in intertwined arrangement with the melody before coming forward at 11:40 in, Maleus‘ drumming behind adding to the feeling of torrential chaos that lasts until nearly the 14-minute mark before the toms bring clarity to the proceedings and the guitar evens out to a pair harmonizing solos. Screams turn back to speech as “Nightbridge” has hit and passed its crescendo, the crash cymbal still holding to the march and some of the tension as the final minute-plus takes hold, voices still twisting around each other in a kind of obscure incantation. The last thing to go is a note of synth that calls all the way back to the start of the track some 18 minutes prior, and though one doubts Forlesen put it there for such a purpose, it nevertheless underscores the considerable nature of the journey that’s been undertaken by the listener from one end of the piece — and indeed from one end of the album — to the other. This is a work of wretched beauty. Heirophant Violent feels emblematic of an innovative level of genre conversation, and the fluidity with which it brings styles together to serve the band’s woeful purpose is genuinely forward-thinking. It is a challenge being issued, perhaps, but invariably one worth taking up at least on the part of those who would experience it, and those to whom it speaks directly may find comfort in its shared sorrows.

Forlesen, Hierophant Violent (2020)

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