Frozen Planet….1969 are now, and they want you to know it. The Sydney/Canberra-based three-piece journey forward through their particular realm of the creative ethersphere with three new tracks, cohesive after nearly a decade since their first, self-titled release in the unit of Paul (guitar) and Frank Attard (drums, production) — both formerly of Mother Mars — and bassist Lachlan Paine (Looking Glass), capturing a live sound and improvised-feeling procession across the 45-minute run of Not From 1969. A follow-up to 2020’s Hydroculture, the latest full-length from the richly exploratory trio works in a similar-feeling structure, with one shorter piece, one longer, and one much longer, though in comparison to its predecessor, the order has shifted on Not From 1969 and the total runtime is a smidgeon shorter. Given the improv-sounding nature of their work, the reaches they mine and on and on, one suspects that’s a result of what came out of their instruments that particular day at Frank Attard‘s own Frank St. Studio, and on any other afternoon, “Diamond Dust” (10:45), “Strangelands” (7:07) and “Dissolver” (27:09) might have taken a different form.

It’s an inherent strength of the style of heavy psychedelic jamming that it didn’t, but worth mentioning for sure that as Paine and the Attards present these captured moments, mixed and mastered (the latter by Philip Dust), topped off with righteously stylized cover art (photos by Matthew Slager, design by John Debobo-Cullen), the moments are all the more worth appreciating for the fact that they’ve been captured, perhaps mined out of longer jams, or, as in the case of “Strangelands,” willing to break in the middle of its funky , prog-jazz-ish build in order to pursue a different route altogether. There, as in “Diamond Dust” prior and the massive-even-when-put-to-scale “Dissolver” afterward, Frozen Planet….1969‘s work is deceptively intricate. One can feel them grasping as “Strangelands” falls apart, learning the progression of guitar on “Diamond Dust” as it happens, and answering the beginning fluidity of “Dissolver” with a bouncing bassline and steadily rolling drums. In this way, the band make their transformative motion to the present moment in which they reside. They create the thing as they live in it.

Of course, Frozen Planet….1969 are far from the only act out there with this methodology. Improv heavy psych is a microgenre — that is, there aren’t a ton of people on the planet doing it in earnest, let alone doing it this well — but it’s not unheard of or unfamiliar at least on paper. Where the Aussie unit continue to most shine, however, is in their chemistry and in the unpretentious manner in which they present the results of their experimentation. Take a look at Not From 1969. There’s no claim being laid to unnamed planets, or mountains or giant monsters or cartoon boobs or anything like that. It’s an old radio and eight-track player, and they tell you right on there what they want you to know — that they’re not actually from the year 1969. Especially for something of its ilk, the record is resolute in its straightforwardness, and that applies as much to the music as anything.

Even as they undertake the initial journey of “Diamond Dust” with Paul‘s guitar pushing through standalone Middle Eastern-toned scales building to a wash before the drums and bass join in, they are neither void of effects nor reliant upon them to make their impression. “Diamond Dust” holds to a flowing motion that, yes, has plenty of reverb and echoing notes, but to listen to the bass underlying the guitar — I’ll officially classify Paine‘s tone as “gotta-hear” throughout — and the interplay between that and the drums, the highlight isn’t necessarily that the song creates this ambience so much as it is the conversation that allows that creation to take place. It’s about these three players, not at all strangers by now, celebrating this thing they are when they are together. You can call that reading too much into it if you want, but at its most freaked out, “Diamond Dust” still feels like three artists in a room reveling in the experiential moment. It’s not 1969. It’s not 1996. It’s this very second.

I won’t take anything away from the long-form immersion that’s set forth in “Dissolver,” but “Strangelands” might be an even better example of the communication between players, from its early boogie to the aforementioned break about four minutes in and the funk-via-jazz that takes over later. Obviously I don’t know the circumstances of how much Not From 1969 has been edited, but that moment of transition feels as organic as it possibly could, and even that such a thing is believable at all on a record is a triumph on the part of the band. They continue into “Dissolver” also playing through multiple stages of the longer jam, coming to a head early and then receding atop the easy-rolling drums and bass, funky again before going minimal-noodly in the guitar, eventually emerging in low-end fuzz and a galloping freakout, distortion coming and going, finally seeming to come apart at the finish as all jams inevitably must.

There too Frozen Planet….1969 highlight the human aspect of what they do. There is a stretch to their sound, to be sure. The album is broad in sound and there’s a definite depth to Frank Attard‘s mix — more than enough to get lost in if that’s your aim — but maybe the unspoken command in Not From 1969 can be for the listener to also not be in their own 1969, lost in some flimsy idolization of the past. Maybe this is the band’s message to join them in the present moment, to be mindful and aware of your place in the place that isn’t a place, and to breathe and feel that breath fill and empty from your lungs. There’s plenty to be said for letting the mind wonder while engaging with psychedelic fare — especially instrumental as this is — but approaching “Diamond Dust,” “Strangelands” and “Dissolver” in a conscious state and moving with the album as its follows its various paths is all the more satisfying with Frozen Planet….1969 in a way that isn’t always the case for bands of their ilk. All the more reason to celebrate the moment. Rejoice in the lightning as well as the bottle.

Frozen Planet….1969, Not From 1969 (2022)

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Pepper Shaker Records on Facebook

Pepper Shaker Records on Bandcamp

HeadSpin Records website

HeadSpin Records on Facebook

This will be a two-week Quarterly Review. That means this Monday to Friday and next Monday to Friday, 10 releases per day, totaling 100 by the time it’s done.

Me? I’m taking it one week, one day, one album at a time. It’s the only way to go and not have it seem completely insurmountable. But we’ll get through it all. I started out with the usual five days, and then I went to seven, then eight, and at that point I felt like I had a pretty good idea where things were headed. The last two days I filled up just at the end of last week. Some of it is I think a result of quarantine productivity, but there’s a glut of relevant stuff out now and some of it I’m catching up on, true, but some of it isn’t out yet either, so it’s a balance as ever. I keep telling myself I’m done with 2020 releases, but there’s one in here today. You know how it goes.

And since you do, I won’t delay further. Thanks in advance for reading if you do.

Quarterly Review #1-10:

Carlton Melton, Night Pillers

Rangey mellow psych collected together with the natural shimmer of a Phil Manley (Trans Am) recording and a John McBain master, the new mini-LP from Mendocino medicine makers Carlton Melton is a 31-minute, five-song meditative joy. To wit, “Safe Place?” Is. “Morning Warmth?” Is, even with the foreboding march of drums behind it. And “Striatum,” which closes with interplay of keys and fuzzy leads and effects, giving a culminating seven-minute wash that doesn’t feel like it’s pushing far out so much as already gone upon arrival, indeed seems like a reward for any head or brain that’s managed to make it so far. Opener “Resemblance” brings four minutes of gentle drone to set the mood ahead of “Morning Warmth” — it might be sunrise, if we’re thinking of it that way — and centerpiece “High Noon Thirty” bridges krauty electronic beats and organic ceremony that feels both familiar and like the band’s own. They may pill at night, but Carlton Melton have a hell of a day here.

Carlton Melton on Facebook

Agitated Records website

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Crown, The End of All Things

Weaving in and around genres with fluidity that’s tied together through dark industrial foundations, Crown are as much black metal as they are post-heavy, cinematic or danceable. “Gallow” or the earlier “Neverland” call to mind mid-period, electronica-fascinated Katatonia, but “Extinction” pairs this with a more experimental feel, opening in its midsection to more unsettling spaces ahead of the dance-ready finish. There’s nothing cartoonish or vamp about The End of All Things, which is the French outfit’s fourth album in 10 years, and it’s as likely to embrace pop (closer “Utopia”) as extremity (“Firebearer” just before), grim atmospherics (“Nails”) or textured acoustics (“Fleuve”), feeling remarkably unconcerned with genre across its 45 entrancing minutes, and remarkably even in its approach for a sound that’s still so varied. It’s not an easy listen front to back, but the challenge feels intentional and is emotional as much as cerebral in the craft and performance.

Crown on Facebook

Pelagic Records on Bandcamp

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Noêta, Elm

Swedish duo Noêta offer their second record for Prophecy Productions in Elm, comprising a deceptively efficient eight songs and 38 minutes that work in atmospheres of darker but not grim or cultish folk. Vocalist Êlea is very much a focal point in terms of performance, with Andris‘ instrumentals forming a backdrop that’s mournful on “Above and Below” while shimmering enough to bring affirmation to “As We Are Gone” a short while later ahead of the electrified layering in “Elm” and the particularly haunted-feeling closer “Elm II.” “As I Fall Silent” is a singularly spacious moment, but not the only one, as “Fade” complements with strings and outward-sounding guitar, and some of Elm‘s most affecting moments are its quietest stretches, as “Dawn Falls” proves at the outset and the whispers of “Elm” reaffirm on side B. Subdued but not lacking complexity, Noêta‘s songs make an instrument of mood itself and are pointedly graceful in doing so.

Noêta on Facebook

Prophecy Productions website

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Polymerase, Unostentatious

Unostentatious, which is presumably not to say “humble,” may or may not be Polymerase‘s debut release, but it follows on from several years of inactivity on the part of the Philippines-based mostly-instrumentalist heavy psych trio. The band present four duly engaging and somewhat raw feeling jams, with a jump in volume as “Lightbringer//Lightgiver” picks up from “A Night with a Succubus” and opener “The Traveler” and a final touch of thickened, fuzzy sludge in the rolling “Green is the Color of Evil,” which closes at a lurch that comes across at significant remove from the title-hinted brightness of the song just before it. Uneven? Maybe, but not egregiously so, and if Polymerase are looking to give listeners an impression of their having a multifaceted sound, they most assuredly do. My question is over what span of time these tracks were recorded and what the group will do in moving forward from them, but I take the fact that I’m curious to find out at all as a positive sign of having interest piqued. Will hope for more.

Polymerase on Facebook

Polymerase on Bandcamp

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Lucid Sins, Cursed!

Lucid indeed. The band’s self-applied genre tag of “adult AOR” is more efficient a descriptor of their sound than anything I might come up with. Glasgow’s Lucid Sins released their acclaimed debut, Occultation, in 2014, and Cursed! is the exclamatory seven-years-later follow-up, bringing together classic progressive rock and modern cult heavy sensibilities with a focus on songwriting that’s the undercurrent from “Joker’s Dance” onward and which, as deep as “The Serpentine Path” or the title-track or “The Forest” might go, is never forgotten. To wit, the penultimate “By Your Hand” is a proto-everything highlight, stomping compared to the organ-prog “Sun and the Moon” earlier, but ultimately just as melodic and of enviable tonal warmth. Seven years is a long time between records, and maybe this material just took that long to put together, I don’t know, but I had no idea “cult xylophone” was a possibility until “The Devil’s Sign” came along, and now I’m not sure how I ever lived without it.

Lucid Sins on Facebook

Totem Cat Records store

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Hekate, Sermons to the Black Owl

Australia’s history in heavy rock and roll is as long as that of heavy rock and roll itself and need not be recounted here, except to say that Hekate, from Canberra and Sydney, draw from multiple eras of it with their debut long-player, Sermons to the Black Owl, pushing ’70s boogie over the top with solos on “Carpathian Eagle” only after “Winter Void” and “Child of Black Magick” have seen the double-guitar-and-let’s-use-both four-piece update nascent doom vibes and “Burning Mask” has brought a more severe chug to the increasingly intense procession. A full production sound refuses to let the quick eight-tracker be anything other than modern, and though it’s only 28 minutes long, the aptly-titled “Acoustic Outro” feels earned atmospherically, even down to the early-feeling cold finish of “Cassowary Dreaming.” The balance may be then, then, then, and now, but the sense of shove that Hekate foster in their songs gives fresh urgency to the tenets of genre they seem to have adopted at will.

Hekate on Facebook

Black Farm Records store

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Abel Blood, Keeping Pace with the Elephants

One does not evoke elephantine images on a heavy record, even on a debut release, if aural largesse isn’t a factor. New Hampshire trio Abel Blood — guitarist/vocalist Adam Joslyn, bassist Ben Cook, drummer Jim DeLuca — are raw in sound on their first EP, Keeping Pace with the Elephants, but the impact with which they land “The Day that Moby Died” at the outset is only encouraging, and to be sure, it’s not the thickest of their wares either. “Enemies” already pushes further, and as centerpiece “UnKnown Variant” would seem to date the effort in advance, it also serves the vital function of moving the EP in a different, more jangly, grungier direction, which is a valuable move with the title cut following behind, its massive cymbals and distorted wash building to a head in time for the nine-minute finale “Fire on the Hillside” to draw together both sides of the approach shown throughout into a parabolically structured jam the middle-placed surge of which passes quickly enough to leave the listener unsure whether it ever happened. They’re messing with you. Dig that.

Abel Blood on Facebook

Abel Blood on Bandcamp

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Suffer Yourself, Rip Tide

Begun in 2011 by guitarist/vocalist Stanislav Govorukha and based in Sweden by way of Poland and the Ukraine, death-doom lurchbringers Suffer Yourself are not strangers to longer-form material, but to my knowledge, “Spit in the Chasm” — the opening and longest track (immediate points) on their third record, Rip Tide — is the first time they’ve crossed the 20-minute mark. Time well spent, and by that I mean “brutally spent,” whether its the speedier chug that emerges from the willful slog of the extended piece’s first half or the viciously progressive lead work that tops the precise, cold end of the song that brings final ambience. Side B offers two shorter pieces in “Désir de Trépas Maritime (Au Bord de la Mer Je Veux Mourir),” laced with suitably mournful strings and a fair enough maritime sense of gothic drama emphasized by later spoken word and piano, and the brief, mostly-drone “Submerging,” which one assumes is the end of that plotline playing out. The main consumption though is in “Spit in the Chasm,” and the dimensions of that fissure are significant, figuratively and literally.

Suffer Yourself on Facebook

Aesthetic Death website

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Green Dragon, Dead of the Night

High order Sabbathian doom rock from my own beloved Garden State, there’s very little chance I’m not going to dig Green Dragon‘s Dead of the Night, and true to type, I do. Presented by the band on limited vinyl after digital release late in 2020, the four-song, 24-minute outing brings guitarist/vocalists Zach Kurland and Ryan Lipynsky (the latter also adding keys and known for his work in Unearthly Trance, etc.), bassist Jennifer Klein and drummer Herbert Wiley to a place so dug into its groove it almost feels inappropriate to think of it as a peak in terms of their work to-date. They go high by going low, then. Fair enough. “Altered States” opens with a rollout of fuzz that miraculously avoids the trap sounding like Electric Wizard, while “Burning Bridges” murks out, “The Sad King” pushes speed a bit will still holding firm to nod and echo alike, and “Book of Shadows” plunges into effects-drenched noise like it was one of the two waterslides at the Maplewood community pool in summertime.

Green Dragon on Facebook

Green Dragon on Bandcamp

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ÂGE TOTAL, ÂGE TOTAL

The kind of record that probably won’t be heard by enough people but will inspire visceral loyalty in many of those who encounter it, the self-titled debut from French collaborative outfit Age Total — bringing together members from Endless Floods out of Bordeaux and Rouen’s Greyfell — is a grand and engrossing work that pushes the outer limits of doom and post-metal. Bookending opener “Amure” (14:28) and closer “The Songbird” (16:45) around the experimentalist “Carré” (4:06) and rumbling melodic death-doom of “Metal,” the album harnesses grandiosity and nuance to spare, with each piece feeling independently conceived and enlightening to musician and audience alike. It sounds like the kind of material they didn’t know they were going to come up with until they actually got together — whatever the circumstances of “together” might’ve looked like at the time — and the bridges they build between progressive metal and sheer weight of intention are staggering. However much hype it does or doesn’t have behind it, Age Total‘s Age Total is one of 2021’s best debut albums.

Endless Floods on Facebook

Greyfell on Facebook

Soza Label on Bandcamp

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Jammers gotta jam, and though they’re less than a year removed from their sixth full-length, 2018’s The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition (review here), clearly it was time for Frozen Planet….1969 to get down to business on the seventh. Released like that album through Headspin Records on vinyl and Pepper Shaker Records on jewel-case CD, Meltdown on the Horizon compiles four tracks from a session helmed by drummer Frank Attard in the band’s native Canberra, Australia, as he, bassist Lachlan Paine and guitarist Paul Attard set themselves to a four-track/54-minute stretch of cosmic meandering, rife with effects and an improvisational energy that affects even the most spaced-out of moments, like the midsection of 22-minute opener and longest inclusion (immediate points) “Rollback,” as the band depart the initial solo-topped groove and funky display for more atmospheric turns before gradually making their way back with the guitar in the lead. It’s not a minor journey and it’s not intended to be, but the last album was arranged as one long, 39-minute track and a six-minute reprise, so neither is it the farthest Frozen Planet….1969 have gone down that road.

More importantly, it harnesses a gorgeous, organic kind of chaos, with a hypnotic spread of float above a molten river of groove, all natural and emblematic of a sincere will to explore musically, the band dug into the joy of their own creation, starting off in medias res as though we, the audience, join their journey already in progress, which of course we do. And long before they come around to the drums picking up in “Rollback” as the song heads into its 17th minute and winding final realization en route to “Bellhop Shindig” (8:11), “Dandy Chai” (6:41) and “Sunset Variations” (17:01), the trio have locked in the essential character that will define Meltdown on the Horizon in the song’s psychedelic persona, a heavy acid rock spirit emerging that continues into “Bellhop Shindig,” which is no less jazzy than the title might indicate, as Paine‘s bass holds together the flow of drums and guitar surrounding, bridging the gap that’s essential in crafting the spaciousness of the record on the whole. Cool vibe? Yeah, cool vibe. They’ve got it locked down.

When it comes to this kind of jam-based heavy psychedelic instrumentalism, I’m usually a proponent of a conscious listen. That is, in the face of trippy sonics and go-anywhere adventuring, I’ll mostly argue in favor of keeping your wits about you and paying attention to what the band are doing in order to most enjoy it. You know, listening to a record by listening to it. Not a particularly deep concept. And I’m not about to tell you not to give Meltdown on the Horizon the consideration it deserves. I will say though that there’s also a value to engaging with the ultra-chill moments of “Sunset Variations” or “Dandy Chai” on that existential level as well — just sharing the same headspace. This is particularly true of the penultimate cut, which is the shortest of the four as noted above, since its structure seems to kind of come apart about two minutes before it’s done and leave Paul in the position of weaving out pulled guitar notes on an intertwining delay, hypnotic and minimal compared to some of the other stretches on the record, but again, a wholly organic moment.

And one that’s well worth experiencing consciously, but also one that’s a whole lot of fun to just kind of go with. Seven albums deep, Frozen Planet….1969 have more than earned the benefit of the doubt, I think, and even as they lose track of where they’re heading on “Dandy Chai,” including that is purposeful. It’s not just about some “well, we’ll put in a missed note to sound natural” kind of thing, and it’s not that they don’t care. It’s the risk you run in doing improv, and the way in which you roll with it. Shit, Frozen Planet….1969 are giving life lessons, never mind jamming out. They’re telling you how to read their work even as they’re performing it. Just go with it. How could you not want to do that, especially when they pull it off so effectively moving into the subdued start of “Sunset Variations?”

But just to be clear: I’m not saying Meltdown on the Horizon is background music. It’s not. “Bellhop Shindig” is way too busy being funky cosmic boogie to be relegated to the background of anything, and while “Rollback” is hypnotic, it never loses its sense of purpose. What I’m saying is that Frozen Planet….1969‘s explorations hold up to multiple kinds of listens. You can sit and analyze every turn they make throughout “Rollback” and “Sunset Variations,” catch the moment where “Dandy Chai” begins to kind of pull itself apart, or get down with “Bellshop Shindig” note for airy note. I’m not arguing against that. Do it. But the next time you put it on, be aware that Meltdown on the Horizon can hold its own and hold attention without that kind of direct engagement.

It’s a strong enough performance on the part of the band to carry the audience through from one end to the other, and even when there’s a bump in that path, they’re experienced enough to ride it out and go where it takes them. This is the sign, ultimately, of a band who have mastered their approach — at least as much as one can when so much of that approach is improv — and who are not only in control of what they do, but are strong enough to cede that control when it suits the work they’re doing. That ability makes Meltdown on the Horizon an all the more exciting listen, no matter how one engages with it, and it shows both the depth of the chemistry between the Attards and Paine, and the continued daring they bring to their output and their off-the-cuff composition style. The former and the latter alike serve them well here, and their raw creativity earns every single kind of listen it will get.

Frozen Planet….1969, Meltdown on the Horizon (2019)

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Pepper Shaker Records on Bandcamp

HeadSpin Records website

HeadSpin Records on Thee Facebooks

[Click play above to stream Frozen Planet….1969’s The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition in its entirety. Album is out Nov. 1 on Pepper Shaker Records and HeadSpin Records.]

Step right up, don’t be shy. One has to wonder when it comes to the sixth — count ’em, six — full-length outing from ellipse-inclusive Sydney/Canberra psychedelic improv specialists Frozen Planet….1969 as to which came first, the concept or the execution. That is, The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition is a somewhat weighty title, and obviously that’s on purpose as the classic power trio of guitarist Paul Attard, bassist Lachlan Paine and drummer Frank Attard, being entirely instrumental, lean on the cartoon artwork and the liner notes of the CD and LP — released by Pepper Shaker and HeadSpin Records, respectively — to tell the story. That’s not to say the record itself, which is comprised of one 39-minute title-track broken down into six subtitled parts and a six-minute follow-up called “Encore: A Herbal Miracle,” isn’t plenty malleable.

Indeed, in sound, open structure and form, Frozen Planet….1969 jam and jam and jam and jam their way into the greater reaches of Far Out, a naturalist production helmed by Frank keeping some human presence in mind behind all the willful instrumental meandering that, all things considered, isn’t nearly as effects-baked as it could be, even in the latest stretch of the “The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition” itself. But they go where they want to go, and of course, the live feel of the recording is one of its most essential facets. For something that’s at least in some part made up on the spot, that’s bound to be the case, which leads back to the initial question of which came first, the story or the jam.

Does it really matter to the listening experience? I suppose not. It’s possible to put on “The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition” without engaging Doctor Berner or reading in the liner notes about his traveling show selling the miracle herbal elixir to relieve pain and ward off evil, strengthen body and mind, and so on. But it’s not nearly as much fun, and Frozen Planet….1969 sound well like they’re enjoying the process of creating the album on the spot. Shouldn’t the listener endeavor to do the same with the listening experience?

Thus we meet the Swordsman, the Juggler, Sundae, Doctor Berner himself and the rest in the title-track. Conveniently, they’ve split the 39-minute piece up into subsections. On the vinyl it all plays together naturally, so whether one thinks of it as one or six different cuts is moot. On the CD and digital versions, though, we see the band purposefully linking the pieces together as the single jam that they are. The list of subsections reads accordingly:

The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition:
I. Oddball Sundae (00:00-05:15)
II. The Juggler (05:16-10:08)
III. Introducing… Oxandra Lanceolata (10:09-16:26)
IV. The Talking Juice (16:27-27:31)
V. Swords for Hire (27:32-31:47)
VI. Never Should Have Left Town with a Whistling Monkey by My Side (31:48-39:25)

There’s a lot of information packed into those subtitles. ‘The Talking Juice’ refers to the potion itself. ‘Swords for Hire’ has a companion Swordsman as seen in an executioner’s hood on the front cover standing next to Oxandra Lanceolata, also on the cover holding — for some reason — a bonsai tree. The art is meant to evoke a comic book sensibility — we see Doctor Berner in the top left corner where the comic company logo and issue price might otherwise be — and that tends to give the whole affair a lighthearted feel suited to the music itself, which is laid back even at its most active points, the title-track getting funky in ‘The Juggler’ or jamming into a classic fuzz solo in ‘The Talking Juice’ after the “hubba hubba” of pulled notes and spaced-out guitar echoes in “Introducing… Oxandra Lanceolata.” Part of the fun of engaging with The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition becomes reading these things into it.

And yeah, if they had elected to do a futuristic sci-fi theme instead of an old traveling medicine show, it would probably be just as easy to hear a cosmic pastiche in the spacey wanderings that take hold in ‘The Talking Juice’ and the lonely reach of feedback in ‘Never Should Have Left Town with a Whistling Monkey by My Side,’ the bass and drums holding the jam together beneath the floating guitar overhead, but the point is they didn’t. The Attards and Paine created the characters and the theme they wanted to use and set about bringing that concept to life as a full experience of the album. That’s exactly why The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition works as well as it does. It’s a complete, multi-level realization of its central idea.

So which came first, the music or the theme? Hell if I know. What’s more important is that the two work side by side to give a whole impression through both the title-track and the complementary “Encore: A Herbal Miracle” that wants nothing either in narrative presentation or actual sonic execution. They finish the second jam with jazzy punches of guitar, bass and drums, odd-time strumming and kick cutting off suddenly to bring the record to its end, and by so doing, they reinforce the notion of The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition as a work of improv. It’s there while it’s there and then it’s over. There’s no real grand finale to it. The jam just concludes and then, presumably, it’ll be on to the next one.

Fair enough. The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition is Frozen Planet….1969‘s sixth LP since 2012, directly following 2017’s From the Centre of a Parallel Universe (review here) and Electric Smokehouse (review here), so they’re used to a quick turnaround. Whenever their next offering surfaces, the fact that they’ve put so much into the conceptual foundation of this one can only help them as they move forward, and whether they work with another specific plotline or not, the mere fact that The Heavy Medicinal Grand Exposition was approached with a sense of storytelling is bound to make the listening experience that much richer. It certainly does here.

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Pepper Shaker Records on Thee Facebooks

Pepper Shaker Records on Bandcamp

HeadSpin Records website

HeadSpin Records on Thee Facebooks

There’s no denying the current of classic metal in the new Witchskull single, which you can hear at the bottom of this post. But check this out: The band, who hail from Canberra, Australia, recorded their new album, Coven’s Will, in Brooklyn, New York, with Billy Anderson, who lives in Portland, Oregon, and they’re releasing it on June 1 through Rise Above Records, which is based in the UK. That is what I call a significant geographical fucking spread. Nicely done, gentlemen.

Witchskull‘s debut, The Vast Electric Dark (review here) was issued by Ripple Music in conjunction with STB Records, so it would seem the trio have a thing for racking up significant endorsements when it comes to putting out their music. Again, nicely done.

And while we’re at it? That single? Nicely done.

Album’s up for preorder now, as the PR wire informs:

Witchskull to Release “Coven’s Will” June 1st via Rise Above Records

The riff hits. The adrenaline kicks in. The darkness erupts. All heavy metal hell breaks loose. The Coven is awake…

Witchskull will release Coven’s Will June 1st via Rise Above Records. Pre-order the album HERE.

The philosophy behind Witchskull’s take on the essence of primeval heaviness is simple enough. Listen to the first few seconds of the Australian trio’s brand new, second album Coven’s Will and if the vibe doesn’t instantly grab you by the balls and the synapses then maybe you walked in through the wrong door. Channeling the spirit of the metal gods and injecting every last moment of their rampaging anthems with a jolting dose of lysergic menace, Witchskull are the unstoppable real deal.

Formed in Canberra in 2014, Witchskull grabbed the attention of the hirsute, underground hordes with their first demo in 2015. The band’s debut album, The Vast Electric Dark, emerged soon after to great acclaim: its thunderous, turbo-charged squall striking an instant, devilish chord with headbangers hungry for life-affirming riffs, a dash of grubby-fingered authenticity and lashings of supernatural venom. Honed and nurtured in sweaty practice rooms and on stages across the band’s native Australia, the Witchskull sound has subsequently evolved, leading to Coven’s Will: a sophomore outing that looks certain to thrust the three-piece to the upper echelons of the stoner world. Recorded at Studio G in Brooklyn, NYC, with producers Billy Anderson (Neurosis/Sleep/Buzzov.en) and Jason Fuller (Blood Duster) and mixed at Jason’s Goatsound Studio in Melbourne, Coven’s Will has mutated into a snarling, muscular acid-metal monster.

Boasting eight, groove-driven slabs of infernal fury, Coven’s Will pulls off the neat trick of sounding simultaneously timeless /and/ timely, as the fundamental principles of our beloved genre are fed through the Australians’ pitch-black prism and spat out in a shower of wild, hallucinatory devil blues.

A crazy-eyed howl of discontent from the sun-scorched wastelands of Australia, Coven’s Will is a ferocious statement from a band that seem to be hitting their stride and gaining power by the hour. Newly signed to Lee Dorrian’s revered Rise Above Records imprint, Witchskull have found the perfect home from which to spread their irresistible gospel of unholy heaviness. Hell’s Gates have opened, the riffs are coming and the Coven compels you to surrender your soul…

Coven’s Will Track Listing:
1. Raven
2. Son of the Snake
3. Priestess
4. Breathing Blue Light
5. Demon Cage
6. Spyres
7. Lord of the Void
8. The Empty Well

https://www.facebook.com/witchskull/
https://www.facebook.com/riseaboverecords/
http://www.riseaboverecords.com/

Witchskull, “Demon Cage”

In look and sonic vibe, Frozen Planet 1969 seem to be shooting for that obscure, lost private press LP heavy you pick up unknowningly from the rack at your favorite musty shop, take to the counter, and promptly receive — rightly so — a lecture on how frickin’ awesome it is. All you can do is nod your head in vague agreement and roll with it until you get home and realize how correct that trusty clerk was. The Australian heavy psych jammers — who also stylize their name with an elongated ellipse: Frozen Planet….1969 — will issue Electric Smokehouse on Jan. 11, with vinyl out through Headspin Records and CD/DL from Pepper Shaker Records. I’d never presume to play the role of the store clerk, but they’ve got the song “Supersaturation” from the new outing streaming now, and it’s a tasty bit of fluidity sure to consume the converted. By all means, dig in.

They got in touch over subspace frequencies and sent this down the PR wire:

New Frozen Planet….1969 album

New album by Frozen Planet….1969 ‘Electric Smokehouse’. This is the band’s fourth album. It contains more of the heavy-psych instrumental experimental improvisation the band has become known for! ‘Electric Smokehouse’ will be released very early in the new year- January 11 2017. It will be available on vinyl in black or transparent purple in a gatefold sleeve on Headspin Records and on CD and digitally via Pepper Shaker.

The vinyl version can be found on the Shiny Beast mail-order website and there will also be some copies available via the Pepper shaker Records Bandcamp page. The CD and digital versions will be available via the Pepper Shaker Records Bandcamp page.

Although the band name suggests otherwise, Frozen Planet….1969 dates back to early 2012! It was then that a heavy-psych jam session between two Sydney-based musicians, Paul and Frank Attard, and Canberra-based Lachlan Paine, took place.

Luckily, this afternoon of improvisation at the home of Pepper Shaker Records, Frank Street Studio, was recorded. However, it wasn’t until over a year later that the three decided they should finally mix and release some of the material they had created that day. Paul and Frank had been playing in the stoner-doom band, Mother Mars. Lachlan was playing in the Canberra heavy rock trio, Looking Glass. After playing on numerous bills together over the years it seemed only natural there would be some sort of collaboration between the two bands at some point.

Frozen Planet….1969 played its first show in February 2014. It was also around this time that the band recorded another mammoth jam session. From this jam session came the second and third releases for the band, “Lost Traveller Chronicles, Volume 1” (released 20th August 2014) and “Lost Traveller Chronicles, Volume 2” (released 6th May 2015). The concept this time would be a travel journal through the constellations, with each song being a chapter from the journal! Both volumes were released in digital and physical format on Pepper Shaker Records. The physical format for Volume 1 was a limited 10-inch vinyl and for Volume 2 the format was CD.

To date, the band has only played a handful of shows. Each show has been uniquely different with the band continuously jamming for thirty to forty minutes. No rehearsal necessary. Every time Frozen Planet….1969 gets together it’s either to record or play live. All improvised!

https://www.facebook.com/Frozenplanet1969
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Pepper-Shaker-Records/348639788571646
https://twitter.com/PepperShakerrec
https://peppershakerrecords.bandcamp.com/

Frozen Planet 1969, “Supersaturation”

Last day. As ever, I am mentally, physically and spiritually exhausted by this process, but as ever, it’s been worth it. Today I do myself a couple favors in packing out with more familiar acts, but whatever, it’s all stuff I should be covering anyway, so if the order bothers you, go write your own 50 reviews in a week and we can talk about it. Yeah, that’s right. That’s what I said. Today we start with Swans. Everything’s a confrontation.

Once again, I hope you’ve found something somewhere along this bizarre, careening path of music that has resonated with you, something that will stick with you. That’s why we’re here. You and me. If you have, I’d love to know about it. Until then, one more time here we go.

Quarterly Review #41-50:

Swans, The Glowing Man

Oh fucking please. You want me to try to summarize The Glowing Man – the culmination and finale of an era of Swans that Michael Gira began now more than half a decade ago – in a single review? Even putting aside the fact that the record two hours long, the notion is ridiculous. If there ever was a chart, the scope here is well off it. The material unfolds and churns and is primal and lush at once on “Cloud of Forgetting,” genuinely chaotic on the 28-minute title-track, and it ends with a drone lullaby, but seriously, what the fuck? Some shit is just beyond, and if you don’t know that applies to Swans by now, it’s your own fault. You want a review? Fine. I listened to the whole thing. It ate my fucking soul, chewed it with all-canine teeth and then spit it out saying “thanks for the clarity” and left me dazed, bloodied and humbled. There’s your fucking review. Thanks for reading.

Swans on Thee Facebooks

Young God Records website

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Virus, Memento Collider

Oslo trio Virus have long since established that they’re a band working on their own wavelength. Memento Collider (on Karisma Records) is the jazzy post-black metallers’ first album in five years and brings together adventurous rhythms, poetic declarations, dissonant basslines and – in the case of “Rogue Fossil,” the occasional hook – in ways that are unique unto Virus. Look at this site and see how often I use the word “unique.” It doesn’t happen. Virus, however, are one of a kind. Memento Collider makes for a challenging listen front to back on its six-track/45-minute run, but it refuses to dumb itself down or dull its progressive edge, bookending its longest (that’s opener “Afield” at 10:41; immediate points) two tracks around jagged explorations of sound like “Steamer” and “Gravity Seeker,” which engage and intrigue in kind after the melodic push of “Dripping into Orbit” and leading into “Phantom Oil Slick,” a righteous affirmation of the angular thrust at the core of Virus’ approach.

Virus on Thee Facebooks

Karisma Records webstore

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The Re-Stoned, Reptiles Return

In 2010, Moscow troupe The Re-Stoned issued their first EP, Return to the Reptiles, and being obviously concerned with evolution, they’ve now gone back and revisited that debut release with Reptiles Return, a reworking of the four studio tracks that made up the initial version – “Return,” “Run,” “The Mountain Giant” and “Sleeping World.” The opener is a straight re-recording, as is one other, where another is remixed and the other two remastered, and Reptiles Return – which is presented on limited vinyl through Clostridium Records and a CD box set with bonus tracks via Rushus Records – pairs them with more psychedelic-minded soundscape pieces like “Winter Witchcraft,” “Walnut Talks,” the proggy “Flying Clouds” and sweetly acoustic “Roots Patter,” that showcase where founding multi-instrumentalist Ilya Lipkin is taking the band going forward. The result is a satisfying side A/B split on the vinyl that delights in heavy riffing for its own sake in the first half and expands the scope in the second, which should delight newcomers as well as those who’ve followed The Re-Stoned along this evolutionary process.

The Re-Stoned on Thee Facebooks

Clostridium Records website

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Castle, Welcome to the Graveyard

It may well be the fate of San Francisco’s hard-touring, ass-kicking, genre-refusing duo Castle to be terminally underappreciated, but that has yet to stop them from proliferating their righteous blend of thrash, doom and classic, fistpump-worthy metal. Their latest outing, Welcome to the Graveyard, arrives via respected purveyor Ván Records, and entices in atmosphere and execution, cohesively built tracks like “Hammer and the Cross” and the penultimate “Down in the Cauldron Bog” finding a balance of personality and delivery that the band has long since honed on stage. The Dio-esque barnburner riff of “Flash of the Pentagram” makes that cut a highlight, but as they roll out the cultish vibes of “Natural Parallel” to close, there doesn’t seem to be much on the spectrum of heavy metal that doesn’t fit into Castle’s wheelhouse. For some bands, there’s just no justice. Four records deep, Castle have yet to get their due, and Welcome to the Graveyard is further proof of why they deserve it.

Castle website

Ván Records

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Spirit Adrift, Chained to Oblivion

One can hear a new wave of modern doom taking shape in Chained to Oblivion, the Prosthetic Records debut from Arizona one-man outfit Spirit Adrift. The work of Nate Garrett alone in the studio, the full-length offers five mostly-extended tracks as a 48-minute 2LP of soaring, emotional and psychedelic doom à la Pallbearer, but given even further breadth through progressively atmospheric passages and a marked flow in its transitions. To call it personal seems superfluous – it’s a one-man band, of course it’s personal – but Garrett (also formerly of metallers Take Over and Destroy) brings a palpable sense of performance to the songwriting, and by the time he gets to the 11-minutes-apiece finale duo of the title-track and “Hum of Our Existence,” it’s easy to forget you’re not actually listening to a full band, not the least because of the vocal harmonies. Calling Chained to Oblivion a promising first outing would be underselling it – this is a project with serious potential.

Spirit Adrift on Thee Facebooks

Prosthetic Records website

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Robb & Pott, Once upon the Wings

Unpredictable from the start of opener “Flesh ‘n’ Steel,” Once upon the Wings is a first-time multinational collaborative effort from Robbi Robb of California’s 3rd Ear Experience and Paul Pott of Germany’s The Space Invaders. Its five tracks/42 minutes arrive through no less than Nasoni Records, and provide a curious and exploratory blend of the organic and the inorganic in sound, as one finds the 11-minute “Grass” no less defined by its percussion solo, guitar line and ‘60s-style vocal than the electronic drums that underscore the layered wash of noise in its midsection. Further definition hits with the 16-minute centerpiece “Prophecy #1,” which works in a space-rocking vein, but the shorter closing duo of the catchy “Looney Toon” and darkly progressive “Space Ear” show a creative bent that clearly refuses to be tamed. Robb & Pott, as a project, demonstrates remarkable potential throughout this debut, as they seem to have set no limits for where they want their sound to go and they seem to have the command to take it there.

Robb & Pott on Bandcamp

Nasoni Records website

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Family, Future History

Most of the tracks on Brooklyn progressive noise rockers Family’s second album and Prosthetic Records debut, Future History, come paired with interludes. That cuts some of the growling intensity of winding pieces like “Funtime for Bigboy” and “Floodgates,” and emphasizes the generally experimental spirit of the record as a whole, broadening the scope in sound and theme. I’m somewhat torn as to how much this actually works to the 51:50 outing’s benefit, as shorter pieces like “Prison Hymn” and “Transmission,” while adding dynamic to the sound and narrative drama, also cut the immediacy in impact of “The Trial” or closer “Bone on Bone,” but it’s entirely possible that without them Future History would be an overwhelming tumult of raw prog metal. And while the play back and forth can feel cumbersome when one considers how effectively “Night Vision” bridges the gap between sides, I’m not sure that’s not what Family were going for in the first place. It’s not supposed to be an easy record, and it isn’t one.

Family on Thee Facebooks

Family website

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Les Discrets, Virée Nocturne

France’s Les Discrets haven’t had a studio offering since 2012’s Ariettes Oubliées (review here), and while they released Live at Roadburn (review here) last year documenting their 2013 set at that festival, there’s little there that might presage the stylistic turn the Fursy Teyssier-led outfit takes on their new EP, Virée Nocturne (on Prophecy Productions). With four tracks – two new, complete recordings, one demo and the last a remix of the opener by Dälek and Deadverse – Les Discrets attempt to find a stylistic middle ground between post-rock and trip-hop, and for the most part, they get there. “Virée Nocturne” itself leads off and can be jarring on first listen, but successfully blends the lush melodicism for which the band is known with electronic-driven beats, and both “Capricorni. Virginis. Corvi” and even the demo “Le Reproche” continue to build on this bold shift. The finale remix adds over two minutes to “Virée Nocturne,” but uses that time to make it even more spacious and all the more immersive. For anyone who thought they might’ve had Les Discrets figured out, the surprise factor here should be palpable.

Les Discrets on Thee Facebooks

Prophecy Productions website

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Liquido di Morte, II

Presented across four tracks beginning with the 12-minute and longest-of-the-bunch (immediate points) “The Corpse of Dr. Funkenstein” (double points for the reference), II, the aptly-titled second album from Liquido di Morte expands the progressive atmospherics of the Italian four-piece’s 2014 self-titled debut (review here) without losing sight of the performance and spirit of exploration that helped bring it to life. Isaak’s Giacomo H. Boeddu guests on brooding vocals and whispers for “The Saddest of Songs I’ll Sing for You,” which swells in seething intensity as it moves forward, while “Rodents on the Uphill” casts a vision of post-space rock and closer “Schwartz Pit” rounds out with crash and wash that seems only to draw out how different the two halves of II actually are. Not a complaint. Liquido di Morte make their way across this vast span with marked fluidity, and if they prove anything throughout, it’s that they’re able to keep their command wherever they feel like using it to go.

Liquido di Morte on Thee Facebooks

Sstars BigCartel store

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Witchskull, The Vast Electric Dark

Canberra, Australia, trio Witchskull initially released their debut full-length, The Vast Electric Dark, last year, and caught the attention of the cross-coastal US partnership between Ripple Music and STB Records, who now align for a reissue of the eight-tracker. Why is quickly apparent. In addition to having earned a fervent response, The Vast Electric Dark basks in quality songcraft and doomly, heavy vibes, keeping a consistent pace while rolling through the semi-metallic push of “Raise the Dead” or the later rumble/shred of “Cassandra’s Curse.” All the while, guitarist/vocalist Marcus De Pasquale provides a steady presence at the fore alongside bassist Tony McMahon and drummer Joel Green, and what’s ultimately still a straightforward rocker of an album finds a niche for itself between varies underground styles of heavy. Between the balance they strike across their 37 minutes and the energy that courses through their songs, Witchskull’s The Vast Electric Dark proves easily worth the look it’s getting.

Witchskull on Thee Facebooks

STB Records webstore

Ripple Music website

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After issuing their debut album, The Vast Electric Dark, on deluxe vinyl through STB Records, Australian trio Witchskull will release the same offering on CD/DL through Ripple Music. The impending disc furthers the bicoastal alliance between NJ’s STB and CA’s Ripple, two of the strongest up and coming American heavy rock labels, and will be out on Sept. 23. Witchskull will head to US shores this fall for The Rage for Armageddon Fest at Saint Vitus Bar in Brooklyn, which is no small trip to make from their native Canberra, and if I hear of other gigs around that appearance — doesn’t seem unlikely, given the distance — I’ll let you know.

For now, Ripple Music speaks through the PR wire:

Proto-metal trio WITCHSKULL to release The Vast Electric Dark this September

The Vast Electric Dark is released worldwide on 23rd September via Ripple Music

Ripple Music is psyched to announce the official worldwide release of The Vast Electric Dark, the crushing debut album from Australian blues-based doom trio, Witchskull.

Formed in Canberra in early 2014 by drummer and former member of acclaimed Australian thrash legends Armoured Angel, Joel Green, along with old school friends Marcus De Pasquale (guitar) and bass player Tony McMahon; Witchskull is less a band and more a brotherhood.

Borne out of a love for Dio, Black Sabbath, Motörhead and the NWOBHM movement the trio locked into an almost hermetic groove from the very beginning. So much so by the Summer of that same year Witchskull were road testing freshly demoed songs at countless shows across Canberra, Melbourne and Sydney. Capable of unleashing raw, balls-to-the-wall doom indebted in no small part to the influence of heavy blues-rock and proto-metal, their unmistakably primal sound marks them out as a stunning live spectacle… a force of nature awakening again and again, night after night.

Decamping to Mebourne’s Goatsound Studios with producer/engineer Jason Fuller (Blood Duster) in January last year, the trio emerged with what quickly became one of 2015’s finest underground releases. A mélange of gnarled vocal tones, pummeling drums and outright guitar majesty that provided the perfect tomb for the dark lyrics contained within, the self-released The Vast Electric Dark struck an instant chord with purveyors of heavy rock.

Following the exclusive STB vinyl-only version of the album which sold out in record time, Ripple Music will give everyone the chance to find out what makes Witchskull so special when The Vast Electric Dark is given an official worldwide release on CD and digital download on 23rd September 2016.

Live:
30th October 2016 – The Rage for Armageddon Fest – St Vitus Bar, New York

https://www.facebook.com/witchskull/
http://witchskull.bandcamp.com/
http://www.ripple-music.com/

Witchskull, The Vast Electric Dark (2015/2016)