Posted in Whathaveyou on June 19th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
South African psych rockers Ethyl Ether released their new album, Violent Entertainment (review here), in the early-going of 2023, and, well attentions are fickle. People move on to other stuff, and the way things are now, so much of the work leading up to a release is done and then a band either tours for 15 months or just kind of tries to keep up promoting on social media doing local shows and so on. But release dates come, hyperbole is thrown, release dates go. A video like this, for an after-the-release single “Vacant” from Violent Entertainment, is something more bands need to be doing.
I know there are fiscal concerns in that — in everything, really — but if you’ve already put everything you have into promoting a record leading up to the release, then it makes sense to keep that momentum going afterward to the best of your ability. The video below for “Vacant” is cinematic and leaves little doubt as to the subject matter at hand, and it gives people like me an excuse to post about the band again and gives the band another chance to catch ears that might’ve missed the album around its initial release. There are no losses, except maybe the money to make the thing, but money is all pretend anyway. Did you know it’s actually just paper? Astonishing, I know.
Enjoy “Vacant” at the bottom of the post, followed by the album stream of Violent Entertainment. The PR wire checked in with this to say:
Ethyl Ether Unveils Captivating Music Video for their track Vacant
Cape Town based psychedelic shoegaze outfit Ethyl Ether has unleashed an enthralling music video for their mesmerizing single Vacant, taken from their highly acclaimed new album Violent Entertainment, out now on Mongrel Records. The captivating video serves as a visual feast, perfectly capturing the ethereal essence and sonic landscape of the band’s latest opus.
With their unmistakable blend of swirling guitars, dreamy atmospheres, and enchanting vocals, Ethyl Ether continues to push boundaries and captivate listeners with their innovative sound.
The release of the music video comes on the heels of Ethyl Ether’s highly successful album Violent Entertainment, which has received accolades from both fans and critics alike. The record has been praised for its innovative songwriting, captivating melodies, and the band’s ability to seamlessly merge elements of psychedelia and shoegaze into a cohesive and unique sonic tapestry.
“Violent Entertainment is a commentary on the times we find ourselves as humans… a constant diet of social media and reality shows. We are shocked by nothing anymore, allowing ourselves to be influenced by whatever speaks strongest to our personal viewpoint. We have become selfish, and live from selfie to selfie, one foot in the real world and one foot online. Violent Entertainment laments the loss of real human emotion and cries for a return to real interactions… a call for a time that is sadly long gone.” – Ethyl Ether
Line Up: Andrew Paine – Vocals/Guitar Mark Van Zyl – Guitar Mornay Carstens – Guitar Pat Naidoo – Drums Frederick Muller – Bass
Posted in Bootleg Theater on December 1st, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Cape Town, South Africa, five-piece Ethyl Ether will release their fourth album, Violent Entertainment, through Mongrel Records on Jan. 27. And the drawling catchiness, post-rock languidity and tonal weight of “Six Feet of Snow” is representative perhaps not of every move the triply-guitared outfit make across the ’90s-style, CD-ready 12-song/58-minute stretch of the album. It doesn’t account for, say, the dub of “Good Neighbor,” for example, or the post-grunge somehow-Beatlesian alt rock radio friendliness of “Field of Shadows,” “Seasons of Gold” and “Flowers” with their wistfulness tucked away after the acoustic demo-sounding 47 seconds of “I” as the album’s final salvo, but in its blend of shimmer and grim, float and heft, and in its drawing influence from aughts-era emotive rock and heavier impulses to create a kind of immersive wash of melody, it speaks much of what’s at the foundation of the record itself.
Sharp in its songwriting and malleable, clearly, to whatever purposes the band point it toward, Violent Entertainment launches with an according three-song salvo of rockers of which “Six Feet of Snow” is the third, behind opener “Dead Conversations” and the subsequent “Phenomenal,” though the shift when “Vacant” hits is mostly in atmosphere, the band putting more space into the sound, what might be breathing room if anyone could breathe. As a follow-up to 2020’s Chrome Neon Jesus (review here), and as a collection of crafted material in its own right, Violent Entertainment is purposeful and ambitious atop its relatively straightforward structures, and makes deep sounds accessible with a continued poppy sensibility that suits a fourth-album maturation of their processes.
The aforementioned “I” aside, most songs hover on either side of the five-minute mark — “Compromise” is the longest at 6:35 and fills its time working toward a full-toned payoff and classically bluesy solo — and convey a human, feeling-feelings presence without tipping into melodrama at least until the band decide to do pretty much exactly that near the finish. We live in an era of plot twists and cliffhangers. Violent Entertainment speaks to that in its own songs and in making the listener wonder where they might go from here.
As the band note below, ‘Violent Entertainment laments the loss of real human emotion and cries for a return to real interactions… a call for a time that is sadly long gone,’ and that perspective, a certain nostalgia for something lost, is prevalent whatever turns in sound accompany, be it the heavy post-Britpop of “Satin” or the charged thrust of “Exhibition.” Fair enough. As someone old enough to remember a time before I had my face buried in my phone in a desperate search for any minor dopamine fix like a sad hunched over cog, I get it.
And one could debate the quality levels of connection between seeing what’s happening in all your friends’ lives versus actually speaking to them — broadcasting ourselves over interpersonal communication, in other words — never mind the presentation of self as a brand (a personal least-favorite; don’t forget to read The Obelisk!), but what’s the use of decrying the trap’s existence when you’re already snared? Perhaps a song like “Six Feet of Snow” is Ethyl Ether‘s way of trying to gnaw their collective leg off to break free. If you make it, send a postcard from what used to be reality. That’s not even snark. It’s nice to get mail.
Hope you’re ready to have this one stuck in your head for the rest of the day and then some:
Ethyl Ether, “Six Feet of Snow” video premiere
Ethyl Ether on Violent Entertainment:
The song speaks about the feeling of struggling to carve one’s way forward in life. When you are stuck in the past or in your head, that is the snow, that is the crown that you bleed from. Social media perpetuates this, driving us all slowly insane.
Violent Entertainment is a commentary on the times we find ourselves as humans… a constant diet of social media and reality shows. We are shocked by nothing anymore, allowing ourselves to be influenced by whatever speaks strongest to our personal viewpoint. We have become selfish, and live from selfie to selfie, one foot in the real world and one foot online. Violent Entertainment laments the loss of real human emotion and cries for a return to real interactions… a call for a time that is sadly long gone.
Ethyl Ether are a five-piece Psychedelic rock outfit from Cape Town. Formed in 2016, the band has released 3 full length albums, the last album, 2020’s ‘Chrome Neon Jesus’ earned the band a SAMA (South African Music Awards) nomination for Best Rock Album as well as being well received by international rock media.
The band has been hard at work in the studio over the last 9 months on their new album ‘Violent Entertainment’ which will drop in January 2023.
Track Listing: 1 – Dead Conversation 2 – Phenomenal 3 – Six Feet Of Snow 4 – Vacant 5 – Good Neighbour 6 – Satin 7 – Compromise 8 – Exhibition 9 – I 10 – Field Of Shadows 11 – Seasons Of Gold 12 – Flowers
Line Up: Andrew Paine – Vocals/Guitar Mark Van Zyl – Guitar Mornay Carstens – Guitar Pat Naidoo – Drums Frederick Muller – Bass
Posted in Whathaveyou on November 9th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
The story is pretty simple here: ‘band who’ve done a couple cool records are about to do another.’ That doesn’t do much to tell you about Ethyl Ether‘s heavygaze-informed psychedelic rock as presented on their new streaming single “Field of Shadows,” let alone the rest of their upcoming Violent Entertainment full-length opus, but, well, better to get the basics across than nothing. There’s time to dig in deeper as we get closer.
If you didn’t catch the band’s 2020 outing, Chrome Neon Jesus (review here), it is by no means too late to be introduced. And if you find yourself looking for more as regards the impending follow-up, which is out Jan. 27, 2023, through Mongrel Records, stick around, as I’ll be premiering a video on Thursday, Dec. 1, for the track “Six Feet of Snow.” Seems like the kind of thing one might pair with an album review, if one is so inclined. Which I probably will be, because — and here’s something personal, I hope you’re comfortable with that — I like writing about good tunes.
So, off we go to the preliminaries, hoisted from the PR wire whence they came:
ETHYL ETHER – Violent Entertainment
Artist: Ethyl Ether Title: Violent Entertainment Format: Digital Release Date: 27th January 2023
Ethyl Ether are a five-piece Psychedelic rock outfit from Cape Town. Formed in 2016, the band has released 3 full length albums, the last album, 2020’s ‘Chrome Neon Jesus’ earned the band a SAMA (South African Music Awards) nomination for Best Rock Album as well as being well received by international rock media.
The band has been hard at work in the studio over the last 9 months on their new album ‘Violent Entertainment’ which will drop in January 2023.
“Violent Entertainment is a commentary on the times we find ourselves as humans… a constant diet of social media and reality shows. We are shocked by nothing anymore, allowing ourselves to be influenced by whatever speaks strongest to our personal viewpoint. We have become selfish, and live from selfie to selfie, one foot in the real world and one foot online. Violent Entertainment laments the loss of real human emotion and cries for a return to real interactions… a call for a time that is sadly long gone.” – Ethyl Ether
Track Listing: 1 – Dead Conversation 2 – Phenomenal 3 – Six Feet Of Snow 4 – Vacant 5 – Good Neighbour 6 – Satin 7 – Compromise 8 – Exhibition 9 – I 10 – Field Of Shadows 11 – Seasons Of Gold 12 – Flowers
Line Up: Andrew Paine – Vocals/Guitar Mark Van Zyl – Guitar Mornay Carstens – Guitar Pat Naidoo – Drums Frederick Muller – Bass
Posted in Whathaveyou on April 29th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
Based in Cape Town, South Africa, blues rockers Basson Laubscher & the Violent Free Peace have set a goal of going to Europe in 2022, and they seem largely unconcerned about where they play once they get there. To wit, they’ll come to your house and bring rock and roll if you’re willing to meet their rate, and it’s pretty awesome to see a band ready to throw down in such a way. “We don’t care, let’s do this.” As abiding ethics go, it’s about as rocking as you get. Near punk, actually.
“Shoot Me Down” is the band’s second single of 2022 and they’ve got a video filmed in their practice space to help spread the bluesy vibes of it. I don’t know if they’ll get to Europe this year or not — my understanding is that two years of solid no-tours has resulted in a backlog for venues now — but the fact that they even put it out there to their listeners instead of trying to work on it like it’s some kind of big secret I find admirable. I hope they’re able to make it happen.
Video’s at the bottom of this post, and the following came down the PR wire to go with:
Basson Laubscher & the Violent Free Peace release video for new single ‘Shoot Me Down’
Basson Laubscher & his band of blues-rock bandits brings you a hard-hitting, raw, garage-rock salvo on his latest single Shoot Me Down.
Shoot Me Down takes lyrical inspiration from the frustration and defeat from the end of a relationship and inevitable breakup and blends it musically into blissfully dirty, heavy, psychedelic, fuzzed-out rock n’ roll.
Hailing from his testify album, Laubscher shows how he makes his Stratocaster sing with his signature passionate, raw & pure soul ecstasy. This is a no holds barred riff burger and will get you headbanging and throwing the devil horns in no time.
There’s an accompanying video for the track which follows the no frills & cut the bullshit approach by letting the band do what they do best, get in a room and just let it rip. Shoot me down was filmed in their band room by the video’s director & editor Kyle Wesson, who also served as the band’s drummer till 2021.
Day Three. The kinds of material covered have varied, but it’s been pretty good so far, which as you can probably imagine makes this whole process much, much easier. Today would traditionally be hump day, where we hit and surpass the halfway mark, but since this is a double-size Quarterly Review, we’re only a quarter of the way there. Still a long way to go, but I’ve got decent momentum in my head at this point and I’ve taken steps not to make the workload crushing on any given day (this mostly involved working last weekend, thanks to The Patient Mrs. for the extra time), so I’m not feeling overly rushed either. Which is welcome.
In that spirit, let’s get to it.
Quarterly Review #21-30:
The Vintage Caravan, Monuments
To every sorrowful head who bemoans the state of rock and roll as being dead, who misses big songs, bands unafraid to groove, to engage their audience, to change things up and stay anchored to a vital spirit of the live experience, the answer is The Vintage Caravan. Monuments is the Icelandic trio’s follow-up to 2018’s Gateways (review here) and it opens with a righteous four-song mission-statement salvo from “Whispers” to “Dark Times” before mellowing out in “This One’s for You” and diving into the eight-minute centerpiece “Forgotten” — later answered by the more subdued but likewise proggy closer “Clarity” — before the hard-hitting shuffle renews on side B with “Sharp Teeth,” “Hell” and “Torn in Two” try to outdo each other in has-the-most-swagger and “Said & Done” sneaks in ahead of the finale to walk away with that particular title. Suitably enough. Momentum is almost a detriment to the proceedings, since the songs are worth individual attention, but among the classic tenets here is leave-’em-wanting-more, and The Vintage Caravan do, no question.
First thing to note? Oslo Tapes are not from Oslo. Or Trondheim, for that matter. Founded by Marco Campitelli in Italy, the band is a work of homage and exploration of ideas born out of a trip to Oslo — blessings and peace upon the narrative — and ØR, which is Norwegian for “confusing,” is their third album. It arrives loaded with textures from electro-krautrock and ’70s space modernized through to-day’s post-heavy, a breathy delivery from Campitelli giving a song like “Kosmik Feels” an almost goth-wave presence while the harder-landing “Bodø Dakar,” which follows, shifts with pointed rhythm into a textured percussion jam in its second half, with ethereal keys still behind. The shimmering psychedelia of “Norwegian Dream” comes paired with “Exotic Dreams” late in the record’s eight-track procession, and while the latter emphasizes Oslo Tapes‘ can-go-anywhere sensibility with horn sounds and vague, drumless motion, the hard dance in closer “Obsession is the Mother of All” really seems to be the moment of summary here. That must’ve been some trip.
Clocking in at 15 tracks and 77 minutes of deeply varied cosmic fuckery, from the motorik push of “Your Are the Sun” to the ’90s Britgaze stylizations of “Mystified” to the twanging central guitar figure of “The Air is Poison” and onward into the blowout kosmiche echo “Sweet Dreams and Nicotine” and chic the-underground-is-actually-made-of-velvet “Like a Halo” ahead of the Hawkwind-on-ludes “I’m Buggin’ Out,” Filthy Hippies‘ Departures at very least gets points for having the right title. Departs from everything. Reality, itself, you. The whole nine. The good news is the places it goes have a unifying element of grunge laziness woven throughout them, like Filthy Hippies just rolled out of bed and this material just happened — and maybe that’s how it went — and the journey they make, whistling as they go on “Among the Wire” and ending up in the wistful wash of “Empty Spaces” is a joy to follow. Heady. More purposeful than it’s letting on. Not a minor investment, but not a minor reward either.
Long since in command of their aesthetic, Norway’s Dunbarrow embark on III, their third long-player, with a full realization of their purpose. Recorded by the five-piece in Spring 2020 and left to gestate for a year’s time, it’s having been unearthed is suitable to the classic doom vibe wrought throughout the eight tracks, but Dunbarrow‘s sound is more vintage in structure than production at this point, and the shifting balance between ‘then’ and ‘now’ in what they do imagines what might’ve been if self-titled era Witchcraft had retained its loyalty to the tenets of Sabbath/Pentagram while continuing to grow its songcraft, such that “Worms of Winter” both is and is decidedly not “Snowblind,” while “Lost Forever” embarks on its own roll and “Turn in Your Grave” makes for an organ-laced folkish highlight, fitting in its cult atmosphere and setting up the rawer finish in “Turns to Dust.” This is who Dunbarrow are, and what they do, they do exceedingly well.
The year is 2076. The world’s first Whole Earth parliament has come together to bask in the document Transmission, originating in Gothenburg, Sweden, at the behest of an entity known only as Djinn and respected purveyor Rocket Recordings. It is believed that in fact Transmission and its eight component freak jazz psychedelia tracks were not written at the time of their first release some 55 years earlier, but, as scholars have come to theorize after more than a half-century of rigorous, consistent study, it is a relic of another dimension. Someplace out of place, some time out of time as humanity knows it. So it is that “Creators of Creation” views all from an outsider’s eagle eye, and “Urm the Mad” squees its urgency as if to herald the serenity of “Love Divine” to come, voices echoing up through the surcosmic rift through which Djinn sent along this Transmission. What was their purpose? Why make contact? And what is time for such creatures? Are they us? Are we them? Are we alone? Are we “Orpheus?” Wars have been fought over easier questions.
Their third album, Shevils‘ Miracle of the Sun renews the band’s collaboration with producer Marcus Forsgren, which obviously given the sound of the record, was not broken. With a tidy 10 songs in 32 minutes, the Oslo-based four-piece deliver a loyal reading of heavy hardcore riffing minus much of the chestbeating or dudely pretense that one might otherwise encounter. They’ve got it nailed, and the break as “Monsters on TV” squibblies out is a forceful but pleasant turn, especially backed by the pure noise rock of “Scandinavian Death Star.” The band plays back and forth between heft and motion throughout, offering plenty of both in “Wet Soaking Wet” and “Ride the Flashes,” hitting hard but doing more than just hitting at the same time. Topped with fervent shouts, Shevils feels urgent in manner that to my ears recalls West Coast US fare like Akimbo, but is nonetheless the band’s own, ranging into broader soundscapes on “No More You” and anti-shred on “It Never Ends,” the only two cuts here over four minutes long. No time to screw around.
If they haven’t been yet — and they may have — it’s entirely likely that by the time I’m done writing this sentence some record label or other will have picked up Paralyzed to release their self-titled debut album on vinyl. The Bamberg, Germany-based four-piece bring classic heavy metal thunder to still-Sabbathian doom rock, casting their lot in with the devil early on “Lucifer’s Road (My Baby and Me),” which feels like as much a statement of aesthetic purpose as it does a righteous biker riff. It’s by no means the sum-total of what’s on offer in a more extended piece like “Prophets” or side B’s rumble-and-roll-plus-wah-equals-doom “Mother’s Only Son,” but the brash fare they bring to light on “Green Eyes” and the post-lizard king-turns-Purple spirit of “Golden Days” tie in well with the toss-your-hair-in-the-wind, how’d-that-hole-get-in-my-jeans spirit of the release on the whole. They start instrumental with the eponymous “Paralyzed,” but vocals are a focus point, and as they round out with the rawer “Parallel,” their command of ’70s heavy is all the more evident. They signed yet? Give it another minute, if not.
Admittedly, I’m late to the party on Black Spirit Crown‘s 2020 debut full-length, Gravity, but as one will when in orbit, it’s easy to be pulled in by the record. The Ohio-based two-piece of Dan Simone (vocals, guitar, theremin, dulcimer) and Chris Martin (vocals, keys & programming, bass) — plus guitar spots from Joe Fortunato (Doomstress, ex-Venomin James) — flourish over longform progressive heavy rock pieces like “Doomstar” and “Orb,” both over eight minutes, and the 21:10 closing title-track, which well earns having the album named after it for its consuming balance between aural weight, darkness of atmosphere and tone, and breadth. Before the last several minutes give way to droning noise, “Gravity” counterbalances the metallic underpinning of “Saga” and the rush of the penultimate “Teutates,” its patience singular even among the other longer cuts, balanced in alternating fashion with the shorter. Peppered-in growls make the proceedings less predictable on the whole, and feel like one more strength working in favor of these complex compositions.
Intraveineuse, Chronicles of an Inevitable Outcome
Parisian instrumentalists Intraveineuse make a strong statement with their 32-minute/single-song debut EP, Chronicles of an Inevitable Outcome, the feeling of aftermath — regret? — permeating the goth-doom atmosphere coming through in tectonically-dense riffs as well as the piano that offsets them. France would seem to have a post-Type O Negative standard-bearer in Hangman’s Chair, but to discount Intraveineuse on that basis is to miss out on the flowing, immersive progression the band emit on this already-sold-out tape, working in three distinct movements to find their own place within the style, building momentum gradually until the last payoff cuts itself short, as if to emphasize there’s more to come. Hopefully, anyhow. EP or LP, debuts with this kind of scope are rare and not to be overlooked, and though there are stretches where one can hear where vocals might go, Intraveineuse ably steer “Chronicles of an Inevitable Outcome” through its various parts with natural-sounding fluidity.
Grim, gritty and ghastly, Void Tripper is the debut full-length from Brazil’s Void Tripper, comprised of five tracks marked by the shared/alternating vocals of guitarists Mário Fonteles and Anastácio Júnior. The former gurlges on opener “Devil’s Reject” while the latter complements with a cleaner take on the subsequent “Burning Woods,” setting up the back and forth that plays out in the remaining three tracks, “Hollow,” “Satan & Drugs” and “Comatose.” With the lumbering bass and drums of Jonatas Monte and Gabriel Mota, respectively, as the thickened foundation beneath the riffs, there are shades throughout of Electric Wizard and other acts to be heard, but it’s Sabbath-worshiping sludge one way or the other, and Void Tripper willingly head into that void with a dense fog preceding them and a bleak mood that does nothing if it doesn’t feel suited to our times. Riffy disaffection writ large. You wouldn’t call it groundbreaking, but you’d nod the fuck out.
One might find Ethyl Ether‘s third album, Chrome Neon Jesus, surprisingly clearheaded in its purposes for an offering that begins with a song called “The Smoke Waits for No Man.” That may or may not be — about the smoke, that is — but the South African heavy rockers unfurl a steady presence and sense of control with their songwriting, launching with some atmospherics deriving from late-’80s nighttime-on-wet-pavement dramas and earlier ’70s rock for a sound that’s coherently modern and becomes less predictable as they go on. To wit, the shouts in the subsequent “Ode” or the proggier wash in “Under the Milky Way” as Chrome Neon Jesus moves fluidly along its course each carry an underlying semblance of order even as they set up turns like the more brash stomping of “Therapy” or the all-go motor riffing of “Voodoo,” which (presumably) ends side A and for which you can see a tripped out video premiering blow.
The vibes continue to get richer as Ethyl Ether proceed into the Cantrell-ian guitars of “Diamonds” and the willfully punkier push of “Cold Black Soul,” tapping into dreamy pop grunge on “Faces” ahead of the spacious “Is Anybody Different” and “Higher Than Drugs,” which rounds out, again surprisingly lucid, with a melodic hook worthy of mid-’90s radio even unto its handclaps and gang-chant chorus finish. Self-awareness on the band’s part extends to them referring to themselves as pop, and that assessment is fair insomuch as it extends to the accessibility of what they’re doing and the obvious care they put into making it. While the vocals sometimes drawl out and tempo gets languid, there may be “happy accidents” that happened in the studio, but nothing across the songs is more out of place than it wants to be, and mix is impeccable. In this way, yeah, Chrome Neon Jesus is pop, if you’re using that word as a stand-in for “professionalism.”
And maybe they are — admittedly “pro” is a bit drier and arrogant in terms of self-applied tags for a band. One way or the other, their sound may prove too clean for some, but I suspect those who continue to dig into the tracks will find something to latch onto that justifies the effort. They know what they’re doing, and if you like songwriting, they’re songwriters.
“Voodoo” doesn’t represent the whole of Chrome Neon Jesus — I’d be hard-pressed to pick a single that does — but if you haven’t had a chance to plunge into the full-length, the Bandcamp stream is at the bottom of this post as well, courtesy of Mongrel Records.
Enjoy the video:
Ethyl Ether, “Voodoo” official video premiere
Drawing from a deep well of musical inspiration that blends blues, psychedelia and rock n roll, South African heavy rockers Ethyl Ether have released a video for their latest single Voodoo. The track is taken from the bands well received 2020 release Chrome Neon Jesus.
“Voodoo is a psychedelic trip that takes you back to the good ol’days of rock n roll. No frills, no fancy, just a song to lose your shit to. And then play it all over again.” Comments Pabs (bass/vocals)
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 15th, 2021 by JJ Koczan
Shoegazer vibes set to psychedelic expanse with flourishes of freakout heft and fuzz to spare, there’s plenty of room for Cape Town’s Filthy Hippies to sprawl out on their fourth long-player in four years — the upcoming Departures clocking in at a willfully unmanageable 15 tracks and 77 minutes — but one could hardly say they don’t make the most of it. Departures is out April 23 on Mongrel Records, and as it’s my first exposure to the three-piece, who formed in 2018, it makes for an immersive introduction. Howl resonate from the hills and anti-genre distinctions like “Sweet Dreams and Nicotine” tap cooler-than-cool sunglasses-all-the-time cynicism even as it blends with classic pop sensibilities. If this was the ’90s — and who says it isn’t? — Filthy Hippies would be the band who told you ’80s Madonna was cool, and they’d probably be right.
Video for “Buggin’ Out” at the bottom of the post. Album info follows here courtesy of the PR wire. Just one to keep watch for if you’re feeling like you’ve heard everything:
FILTHY HIPPIES – DEPARTURES – RELEASE DATE 23rd APRIL 2021
Established in 2018 Filthy Hippies is a South African Alternative trio with a strong undercurrent of Shoegaze influences. The band quickly established themselves as solid contenders in the explosive, burgeoning South African psych scene and list supporting Post-punk band Dangerfield’s album launch, and 2019’s Endless Daze Festival as current highlights.
Filthy Hippies create a sound that is best described as a Phil Spector’esque wall of sound hitched to deep routed pop inflections.
With four albums and three EP’s under their belt, Filthy Hippies feel that the imminent release of the new album ‘Departures showcases some of their best work.
Track Listing: 1. Spirit 2. Mystified 3. You Are The Sun 4. The Recipe 5. The Air Is Poison 6. Otherside 7. Among The Wire 8. Dumb 9. Sweet Dreams and Nicotine 10. Never Without You 11. Dethroned 12. Like A Halo 13. Promise 14. I’m Bugging Out 15. Empty Spaces
Line Up: Mark Van Zyl – Guitar / Vocals Andrew Paine – Vocals / Bass Mandy Backstrom – Drums / Vocals
Posted in Reviews on March 25th, 2020 by JJ Koczan
Ah, the Wednesday of a Quarterly Review. Always a special day in my mind. We hit and pass the halfway point today, and I like the fact that the marker is right in the middle of things, like that sign you pass in Pennsylvania on Rt. 80 that says, “this is the highest point east of the Mississippi,” or whatever it is. Just a kind of, “oh, by the way, in case you didn’t know, there’s this but you’re on your way somewhere else.” And so we are, en route to 50 reviews by Friday. Will we get there? Yeah, of course. I’ve done this like 100 times now, it’s not really in doubt. Sleeping, eating, living: these things are expendable. The Quarterly Review will get done. So let’s do it.
Quarterly Review #21-30:
The Cult of Dom Keller, Ascend!
They’re not going quietly, that’s for sure. Except for when they are, at least. The Cult of Dom Keller send their listeners — and, it would seem, themselves — into the howling ether on the exclamatory-titular Ascend!, their fifth LP. Issued through Cardinal Fuzz and Little Cloud records it brings a bevvy of freakouts in psych-o-slabs like “I Hear the Messiah” and the early-arriving “Hello Hanging Rope” and the building-in-thickness “The Blood Donor Wants His Blood Back,” and the foreboding buzz of “We’re All Fucked (Up),” peppering in effective ambient interludes ahead of what might be some resolution in the closing “Jam for the Sun.” Or maybe that’s just narrative I’m putting to it. Does it matter? Does anything matter? And what is matter? And what is energy? And is there a line between the two or are we all just playing pretend at existence like I-think-therefore-I-am might actually hold water in a universe bigger than our own pea-sized brains. Where do we go from here? Or maybe it’s just the going and not the where? Okay.
Brooklynite trio Grandpa Jack are working toward mastery of the thickened midtempo groove on their second EP, Trash Can Boogie. Led by guitarist/vocalist Johnny Strom with backing shouts from drummer Matt C. White and a suitable flow provided by bassist Jared Schapker, the band present a classic-tinged four tracks, showing some jammier psych range in the 7:47 second cut “Untold” but never straying too far from the next hook, as opener “Ride On, Right On” and the almost-proto-metal “Imitation” show. Finishing with “Curmudgeon,” Grandpa Jack ride a fine line between modern fuzz, ’90s melody and ’70s groove idolatry, and part of the fun is trying to figure out which side they’re on at any given point and which side they’ll want to ultimately end up on, or if they’ll decide at all. They have one LP under their collective belt already. I’d be surprised if their next one didn’t garner them more significant attention, let alone label backing, should they want it.
There’s metal in the foundation of what Woven Man are doing on their 2019 debut, Revelry (In Our Arms). And there’s paganism. But they’re by no means “pagan metal” at least in the understood genre terms. The Welsh outfit — featuring guitarist Lee Roy Davies, formerly of Acrimony — cast out soundscapes in their vocal melodies and have no lack of tonal crunch at their disposal when they want it, but as eight-minute opener/longest track (immediate points) shows, they’re not going to be rigidly defined as one thing or another. One can hear C.O.C. in the riffs during their moments of sneer on “I am Mountain” or the centerpiece highlight “With Willow,” but they never quite embrace the shimmer outright Though they come right to the cusp of doing so on the subsequent “Makers Mark,” but closer “Of Land and Sky” revives a more aggressive push and sets them toward worshiping different idols. Psychedelic metal is a tough, nearly impossible, balance to pull off. I’m not entirely convinced it’s what Woven Man are going for on this first outing, but it’s where they might end up.
Whether drifting mildly through the likes of drone-laden pieces “Down by the Water,” the CD-only title-track or “Alexandria” as they make their way toward the harsh bite at the end of the 11-minute closer “Scavengers of the Wind,” Bath, UK, heavy post-rockers Charivari hold a firm sense of presence and tonal fullness. They’re prone to a wash from leadoff “When Leviathan Dreams” onward, but it’s satisfying to course along with the four-piece for the duration of their journey. Rough spots? Oh, to be sure. “Aphotic” seethes with noisy force, and certainly the aforementioned ending is intended to jar, but that only makes a work like “Lotus Eater,” which ably balances Cure-esque initial lead lines with emergent distortion-crush, that much richer to behold. The moves they make are natural, unforced, and whether they’re trading back and forth in volume or fluidly, willfully losing themselves in a trance of effects, the organic and ethereal aspects of their sound never fail to come through in terms of melody even as a human presence is maintained on vocals. When “Down by the Water” hits its mark, it is positively encompassing. Headphones were built for this.
Bit of a supergroup here, at least in the underrated-New-York-art-noise sphere of things. Vocals and riffy crunch provided by the masterful Chris Spencer (formerly of Unsane), while Cop Shoot Cop‘s Jim Coleman adds much-welcome electronic flourish, Swans/Xiu Xiu bassist Chris Pravdica provides low end and the well-if-he-can-handle-drumming-for-Swans-he-can-handle-anything Phil Puleo (also Cop Shoot Cop) grounds the rhythm. Presented through Ipecac, the four-piece’s declarative self-titled debut arrives through Ipecac very much as a combination of the elements of which it is comprised, but the atmosphere brought to the proceedings by Coleman set against Spencer‘s guitar isn’t to be understated. The two challenge each other in “E605” and the off-to-drone “Consequences” and the results are to everyone’s benefit, despite the underlying theme of planetary desolation. Whoops on that one, but at least we get the roiling chaos and artful noise of “This Dead Sea” out of it, and that’s not nothing. Predictable? In parts, but so was climate change if anyone would’ve fucking listened.
The nautically-themed follow-up to Bellingham, Washington, progressive heavy/noise/post-hardcore rockers Dryland‘s 2017 self-titled debut album, the four-song Dances with Waves EP finds the thoughtful and melodic riffers working alongside producer/engineer Matt Bayles (Mastodon, Isis, etc.) on a recording that loses none of its edge for its deft changes of rhythm and shifts in vocals. There’s some influence from Elder maybe in terms of the guitar on “No Celestial Hope” and the finale “Between the Testaments,” but by the time the seven-minute capper is done, it’s full-on Pacific Northwest noise crunch, crashing its waves of riffs and stomp against the shore of your eardrums in demand of as much volume as you’ll give it. Between those two, “Exalted Mystics” moves unsuspectingly through its first half and seems to delve into semi-emo-if-emo-was-about-sailing-and-death theatrics in its second, while “The Sound a Sword Adores” distills the alternating drive and sway down to its barest form, a slowdown later setting up the madness soon to arrive in “Between the Testaments.”
Brass Owl foster on their self-released debut full-length, State of Mind, a brand of heavy rock that maintains a decidedly straightforward face while veering at the same time into influences from grunge, ’70s rock, the better end of ’80s metal and probably one or two current hard or heavy rock bands. You might catch a tinge of Five Horse Johnson-style blues on “No Filter – Stay Trendy” or the particularly barroom-ready “Jive Turkey,” which itself follows the funkier unfolding jam-into-shredfest of “The Legend of FUJIMO,” and the earlier “Hook, Line & Sinker” has trucker-rock all over it, but through it all, the defining aspect of the work is its absolute lack of pretense. These guys — there would seem to have been three when they recorded, there are two now; so it goes — aren’t trying to convince you of their intelligence, or their deep-running stylistic nuance. They’re not picking out riffs from obscure ’80s indie records or even ’70s private press LPs. They’re having a good time putting traditionalist-style rock songs together, messing around stylistically a bit, and they’ve got nine songs across 43 minutes ready to roll for anyone looking for that particular kind of company. If that’s you, great. If it ain’t, off you go to the next one.
From even before you press play on Press Start, the 22-minute debut release from South Africa’s Battle City, the instrumental duo make their love of gaming readily apparent. Given that they went so far as to call one song “Ram Man” and that it seems just as likely as not that “Ignition” and “Ghost Dimension” are video game references as well, it’s notable that guitarist/bassist Stian “Lightning Fingers Van Tonder” Maritz and drummer Wayne “Thunder Flakes” Hendrikz didn’t succumb to the temptation of bringing any electronic sounds to the six-song offering. Even in “Ghost Dimension,” which is the closer and longest track by about three minutes, they keep it decidedly straightforward in terms of arrangements and resist any sort of chiptune elements, sticking purely to guitar, bass and drums. There’s a touch of the progressive to the leadoff title-track and to the soaring lead “Ignotion,” but Press Start does likewise in setting the band’s foundation in a steady course of heavy rock and metal, to the point that if you didn’t know they were gaming-inspired by looking at the cover art or the titles, there’d be little to indicate that’s where they were coming from. I wouldn’t count myself among them, but those clamoring for beeps and boops and other 8-bit nonsense will be surprised. For me, the riffs’ll do just fine, thanks.
Spacious, varied and progressive without losing their heft either of tone or presence, Manchester, UK, trio Astral Bodies debut on Surviving Sounds with Escape Death, working mostly instrumentally — they do sneak some vocals into the penultimate “Pale Horse” — to affect an atmosphere of cosmic heavy that’s neither indebted to nor entirely separate from post-metal. Droning pieces like the introductory “Neptune,” or the joyous key-laced wash of the centerpiece “Orchidaeae,” or even “Pale Horse,” act as spacers between longer cuts, and they’re purposefully placed not to overdo symmetry so as to make Escape Death‘s deceptively-efficient 36-minute runtime predictable. It’s one more thing the three-piece do right, added to the sense of rawness that comes through in the guitar tone even as effects and synth seem to surround and provide a context that would be lush if it still weren’t essentially noise rock. Cosmic noise? The push of “Oumuamua” sure is, if anything might be. Classify it however you want — it’s fun when it’s difficult! — but it’s a striking record either way, and engages all the more as a first long-player.
Following its three-minute chanting intro, Satyrus let opener and longest track (immediate points) “Black Satyrus” unfold its cultish nod across an eight minutes that leads the way into the rest of their debut album, Rites, perhaps more suitably than the intro ever could. The building blocks that the Italian unit are working from are familiar enough — Black Sabbath, Saint Vitus, Electric Wizard, maybe even some Slayer in the faster soloing of second cut “Shovel” — but that doesn’t make the graveyard-dirt-covered fuzz of “Swirl” or the noisefest that ensues in “Stigma” or subsequent “Electric Funeral”-ist swing any less satisfying, or the dug-in chug of bookending nine-minute closer “Trailblazer.” Hell, if it’s a retread, at least they’re leaving footprints, and it’s not like Satyrus are trying to tell anyone they invented Tony Iommi‘s riff. It’s a mass by the converted for the converted. I’d ask nothing more of it than that and neither should you.
