Posted in Whathaveyou on February 23rd, 2026 by JJ Koczan
Two exclusive shows from Ed Mundell‘s The Ultra Electric Mega Galactic. Slomosa. Causa Sui, who are tops at this point on my list of bands to see before I die. Lydsyn, which is Uffe Lorenzen from Baby Woodrose‘s current trio. Naxatras‘ expanses and Needlepoint‘s folk-prog intimacy. And then you have Atomic fucking Rooster. The outright rush of Pothamus. MaidaVale. Gros Coeur. And I don’t know who Gender Reveal Atomic Bomb are, but I’d be keen to find out.
Down the Hill 2026’s lineup is complete. I will tell you flat out; I see a lot of these announcements. More even than I post, and I post plenty of them. It’s a pleasure to see something like this, which not only undebatably kicks ass, but is emblematic of the specific curation of the event in question. The Belgian festival over the last few years has peppered its lineups with classic prog and heavy rock, and that’s here too, but the growth in reach, the blend of modern and legacy and up-and-coming. It’s gorgeous, and in a sea of festivals on the summer circuit, it stands out as its own thing in its own way. The lineup is now complete and it is the very definition of fucking rad. Much respect.
From social media:
THE HILL IS CALLING – THE FULL 2026 LINE-UP IS HERE!
The wait is finally over. We’ve completed the puzzle for Down The Hill 2026, and it’s shaping up to be a legendary trip. We are adding a massive wave of new talent to the bill, bringing everything from desert grooves to cosmic explorations.
Leading the charge of new names, prepare for a deep space odyssey with the legendary Ozric Tentacles, followed by the sun-drenched mastery of Causa Sui. We have the tundra-rock kings Slomosa bringing the heavy fuzz, alongside the cinematic, analog psych-sounds of Naxatras. We’re also diving into the sophisticated prog-jazz textures of Needlepoint, the gritty rock ‘n’ roll of Lydsyn, and the high-voltage experimental madness of Tschaika 21/16. The storm continues with the crushing riffs of Huracán, the fuzzy garage vibes of Bikini Beach, the raw energy of Feedy, and the sonic explosion that is Gender Reveal Atomic Bomb.
In a very special turn of events, we are witnessing a monumental return. After a 12-year absence from the continent, The Ultra Electric Mega Galactic (featuring Ed Mundell) is finally coming back to Europe! They will be taking over the hill for not one, but TWO unique sets, performing on both Friday and Saturday. This is a truly rare occasion, as these will be their only two European shows in 2026. You do not want to miss this historic comeback!
These new additions join our previously announced favorites: the classic rock legends Atomic Rooster, the heavy psych of Maidavale, and the atmospheric power of Pothamus, along with Black Flower, Gros Coeur, Aufhebung, Waste, and The Moondig.
Day tickets are NOW officially on sale! Whether you’re coming for one day of madness or the full weekend experience, now is the time to secure your spot. To make your festival experience even smoother, token tickets are also available for purchase starting today.
On Friday the 21st (Doors 14h), prepare for a heavy ride with Slomosa, Causa Sui, The Ultra Electric Mega Galactic, Pothamus, Tschaika 21/16, Huracan, Aufhebung, Feedy, Waste, and The Moondig.
The trip continues on Saturday the 22nd (Doors 12h) with Ozric Tentacles, Atomic Rooster, a second exclusive set by The Ultra Electric Mega Galactic, Maidavale, Lydsyn, Naxatras, Needlepoint, Black Flower, Bikini Beach, Gros Coeur, and Gender Reveal Atomic Bomb.
As always, we keep the fire burning late into the night with Afterparties & DJs on both days.
Don’t miss out on the most immersive weekend of the year.
Posted in Whathaveyou on February 6th, 2026 by JJ Koczan
Now that I’ve seeen My Sleeping Karma at least once, Causa Sui might be at the top of my bands-to-see bucketlist. Definitely as regards instrumental acts from Europe, and probably overall as well. If I had an actual list, I could use it as reference. This is why I make lists. Because I’m a nerd. Anywho, it would be nice to see Causa Sui some day. And I hope you’re having a great afternoon.
The venerable Danish psych-jazz innovators are joined in the latest round of Desertfest Berlin 2026 adds by Greenleaf — among the finest the heavy rock underground has to offer — as well as Toundra from Spain making something of a comeback and, for a curve, Tennessee hardcore outfit Gumm, who are new to me.
Four bands total, but definitely a quality-over-quantity kind of deal. The full lineup thus far for Desertfest Berlin follows in the poster here, and the info below came from the PR wire:
DESERTFEST BERLIN – NEW BANDS ANNOUNCED
Four new acts join Desertfest Berlin: Toundra, Causa Sui, Greenleaf & Gumm
The Desertfest Berlin fire keeps spreading, and today we’re excited to welcome four new additions to the lineup. Each of them brings their own take on heavy music, from hypnotic stoner grooves to instrumental power and raw hardcore energy.
Toundra
After a two-year hiatus, Madrid’s instrumental giants Toundra return to the stage. Known for balancing massive riffs with intricate melodies and emotional depth, they are back with the power and precision that have made them one of Europe’s most respected instrumental rock bands.
Causa Sui
Danish psych explorers Causa Sui add their endlessly flowing instrumental soundscapes to the festival. Drawing from krautrock, heavy psych and classic stoner influences, their music feels like a giant wave rolling through decades of amplified history.
Greenleaf
Joining us from Sweden, Greenleaf return as true stoner rock torchbearers. With their unmistakable blend of fuzz-drenched riffs, soulful vocals and desert-blues atmospheres, they continue to shape the sound of modern heavy rock.
Gumm
From Chattanooga, Tennessee, Gumm deliver raw and uncompromising hardcore punk. Fast, direct and relentless, they bring pure intensity straight to the stage.
Posted in Features on December 24th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
[PLEASE NOTE: These are not the results of the year-end poll, which ends in January. If you haven’t contributed your picks yet, please do so here.]
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Terrible year, good music. Not the first time that’s happened. Look anywhere in the world and there’s unrest to be found. I have started this paragraph three separate times now with some discussion of my country’s willful embrace of corporate, christian nationalist fascism, and each time have had to go back and restart, because by the time you’re done asking “what’s the point of anything?” you realize you don’t have an answer to that question. Better not to ask.
But in what has unquestionably been the dumbest 12 months I’ve lived through as regards the outside world has made a salve of human creativity, and as our techbro-warlord fiefdoms are laid out and generative AI is pushed in place of human artistry — the two could coexist, easily, just not in a world this stupid — making art whether it’s overtly political or not feels more like resistance against a cultural numbing out than it ever has in my 44 years.
We celebrate the human spirit, then, when we celebrate human creativity. The nonphysical part of ourselves and the connections we make across land, space and time through various forms of art and expression. I believe artificial intelligence can have a place in this world, I just wish I could convince it to empty the dishwasher.
Music holds us together. Or to be more honest, it holds me together. On these days where the horrors don’t seem to end, where cruelty and unkindness are held as virtues and care is seen as a weakness, where hateful rhetoric is held as common sense, where grown-ass men roll around in big-boy pickup trucks and wave silly flags like the spoiled five-year-olds they are mentally, where we kill each other for sport, being able to immerse, to put my head somewhere else, to get away from it for just a little while, has been a gift. It is difficult to believe there was ever an optimistic vision of the future in my country. In the face of rising isolationism and kleptocratic, anticonstitutional governmental improprieties, limitless corruption, endless drudging stupidity, I see no reason for one now beyond escapism.
So in these wretched times, love all you can love. Everyone and everything. Bathe yourself in it as much as you can. Hold onto what you can hold onto, because so much else is being ripped away. We live in fear and confusion and exhaustion, but clarity exists. I find it in art and in critical thinking. My hope for you is you find it however you are able.
Below is my list of the year’s best albums. It’s my list, and it has been put together using the same criteria I always use — personal taste and what I listened to most combined with what I think were important or otherwise notable outings — and as always, there were plenty of them. No, I didn’t hear everything, and I think if I ended this post now with “this was the year of Castle Rat,” that would also be a valid way to go, so whatever your opinions are of the year or the music that filled your life from one end of it to the other, please know that this is coming from my perspective, and that while I do my best to do as much as possible, I have neither time nor interest in covering all releases all the time.
Every year, I put this post up after working on it for a week or whatever and someone invariably goes, “meh what about WHOEVER list sux” and the entire endeavor feels like a waste. Never fails. It’s become part of the ritual. I ask you please keep comments civil and allow for the possibility of other perspectives and opinions. If we can’t do that as people sharing the same divergent subculture, then you and I are no better than the monsters outside the door. And we are better, I assure you.
Thanks for reading. Here we go.
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The Top 60 Albums of 2025
**NOTE**: If you’re looking for something specific, try a text search.
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60-31
60. Make Money From Home, Make Money From Home
59. Madmess, The Third Coming
58. Spawn, Light Rite
57. Lorquin’s Admiral, Lorquin’s Admiral
56. Pink Fuzz, Resolution
55. Bloodsports, Anything Can Be a Hammer
54. Serial Hawk, Psychic Pain
53. C.ROSS, Future Site of C.ROSS
52. Ikitan, Shaping the Chaos
51. Papir, IX
50. Kryptograf, Kryptonomicon
49. Bronco, Bronco
48. The Gray Goo, Cabin Fever Dreams
47. Crop, S.S.R.I.
46. Caboose, Left for Dust
45. Nuclear Dudes, Skeletal Blasphemy
44. Cavern Deep, Part III – The Bodiless
43. Rainbows Are Free, Silver and Gold
42. Moon Destroys, She Walks by Moonlight
41. Abanamat, Abominat
40. Margarita Witch Cult, Strung Out in Hell
39. Kungens Män, Resande i Rockmusik
38. Naxatras, V
37. Atom Juice, Atom Juice
36. Castle Rat, The Bestiary
35. Florist, Adrift
34. Earthbong, Bring Your Lungs
33. River Cult, High Anxiety
32. Messa, The Spin
31. Borracho, Ouroboros
Notes:
You might notice two of the year’s biggest releases here between 31 and 40 in Messa and Castle Rat. I’m not sure underground heavy anything has two more crucial bands happening right now. Castle Rat’s main impact and obvious priority is their live presentation, and Messa I’ve always been kind of here or there on. But looking at the year-end poll results thus far, those are names people would be missing, so I wanted to point them out specifically. There was no getting away from either in 2025.
So much to go through here. A few excellent debuts in Atom Juice, Make Money From Home, Caboose, Bronco, Bloodsports, Lorquin’s Admiral, Ikitan, Moon Destroys and so on, while strong returns from the likes of Nuclear Dudes, Papir, Serial Hawk, Rainbows Are Free, the always-welcome Borracho, Naxatras and others provided fodder for immersion across a swath of sounds and intentions of craft. Florist blindsided me, which I appreciated, and River Cult remain wholly undervalued in my mind. Kryptograf and Cavern Deep continue to grow, and Abanamat’s second record was encouragingly proggy. I found solace in Papir and Spawn, and raw physical catharsis in the thrashing heavy cybergrind of Nuclear Dudes. And of course, groove abounds.
I say the same thing every year, but if someone turned these names into the year-end poll as a top 30, I wouldn’t argue. Whether hyped or not, rocking out, navelgazing or exploring the unknown, there is so much here waiting for people to take it on. I hope you’ll see something in the above you haven’t heard yet, listen, and love it.
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30. Black Moon Cult, Ophidian Future (The Children of Yig)
More on this one below, but Black Moon Cult‘s awaited first album, Ophidian Future (The Children of Yig) was unquestionably a standout in the realm of heavy psychedelic rock, and set the Toledo, Ohio-based trio off on a course of exploration that could be shimmering and progressive or rife with terrestrial groove. And the vocals, not always, but sometimes, reminded me of Death if they were a stoner band crossed with Fu Manchu. Most of all, the vibe-heavy six-songer declared Black Moon Cult as one to watch going forward, and the heavy underground took note accordingly.
Inarguable riffing met with grunge overtones, an overarching heavygaze melodicism and increasingly tight songwriting, yes, Sub Rosa is a step along the way in the narrative of Daevar‘s forward growth, but it sure felt like a landmark in that process. A bit of Type O Negative in “Siren Song” and a bit more explosiveness there and throughout underscored the murky doom for which the German outfit are known, and the key influences are still there, Windhand, Monolord, and so on, but Daevar have been shaping their sound over the course of their albums to arrive at such a payoff.
Kaiser had acquitted themselves well on their 2022 Ripple-issued split with Sweden’s Captain Caravan (review here), so their second full-length arrived not quite as a surprise, but with some measure of anticipation behind it. That would turn out to be wholly justified by the eight-song offering from the Finnish heavy rockers, who aligned themselves with a classic Northern-European-style shove in pieces like “Meteorhead” with high concentrations of fuzz and blowouts to coincide. With pieces like “Oversized Load” and the upped heft of “A Clockwork Green,” this was a sleeper, but it’s the kind of record that creates loyalists and people will be recommending it to each other for years.
Of course, Crystal Spiders have an established powerhouse voice out front in Brenna Leath, but Metanoia brought into focus just how much this is Leath‘s band as the lone remaining founder in a three-piece, with newcomers guitarist Reid Rogers and drummer Aaron Willis. Fair enough. Even in a two-thirds new incarnation, Crystal Spiders came through pretty slick on their third full-length, with a confident, classic-doom swing, songs that remain unafraid to reach onto more ethereal ground, and a flow of melody that’s made them immediately identifiable among the hordes. Asking more would be asking too much.
The ongoing evolution of Northern Ireland’s Slomatics found the crush-prone trio expanding on their worldmaking atmospheres in unexpected ways, challenging what had become conventions in their sound over time while offering the guitar-only heft that’s become their calling card over the last two decades. While more cosmic in their float, they remained grounded in terms of songwriting, and were able to push themselves in ways they’ve never done before. It was enough to remind you why you like heavy music in the first place, and signature Slomatics while moving beyond their prior work, building as they always have on the past to carve out their own futuristic style and perspective. It was, in other words, a Slomatics record.
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25. Dead Shrine, Cydonia Mensa
Released by Astral Projection and Kozmik Artifactz. Reviewed April 24.
As a fan of his various incarnations, I’m not sure it’d feel like a year if there wasn’t something new from Hamilton, New Zealand’s Craig Williamson. Whether it’s the more rocking solo-project Dead Shrine or the long-running acid folk outfit Lamp of the Universe or some other collaboration, etc., his craft is both distinctive and malleable, and the rumble in songs like “The Sacred Light” and the chuggy, hooky “Redeemer” is his all the way, even as it and the psychedelia that surrounds embarked on new ground for outward-facing tonal weight in Williamson‘s work, tying seemingly disparate sides together in ways that felt fresh, and most importantly, Williamson‘s own. I’ve been listening to Williamson for over 20 years and I have no idea where he’s headed. That’s part of the appeal. And fresh as it was, the take throughout Cydonia Mensa still carried a classic feel.
Apart from the obvious consideration of plague, I’m not sure what was behind the seven-year space between 2018’s Helltown (review here) and their first outing for Heavy Psych Sounds and fourth album overall, EC4, but if they were taking their time, the songs bear that out. “Static Vision” hit perfectly as a catchy single, while the more ethereal “Moss” and the sweeping “Other Planets” took the Ohio band to new places in sound. They’ve always been about craft and performance, and those remain key aspects of what they do, but nuance in the production and an eye kept fixated on the outside-genre leant depth to the material, and Electric Citizen basked in it. The band remain somewhat undervalued in my mind; EC4 is another example of why.
There’s very little mystery to Kal-El. There doesn’t need to be. They have the songs and can come right at you with them. No need to sneak around or pull some tricks. Hit play. “Here’s a riff. It’s a hook. It’s in your head. Here’s the next one.” Repeat for further righteousness. And don’t go walking around thinking I mean straightforward as a code word for boring. That’s not what’s happening here. The point is that with no shortage of big sound, big reach, big riffs and melodies, Astral Voyager Vol. 1 put into emphasis just how satisfyingly direct Kal-El can be. And though it’s a story only half told with a Vol. 2 presumably due in 2026, grooves like “Dilithium” (of course I’m in for a Star Trek reference) and the nine-and-a-half-minute “Astral Voyager,” Kal-El‘s latest held purpose in its every turn and expanse, and, well, they’re the kind of band you can rely on not to start sucking now, so yes, the next one is a thing to look forward to.
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22. Khan, That Fair and Warlike Form/Return to Dust
Two sidelong epics from Melbourne, Australia, trio Khan, “That Fair and Warlike Form” (23:11) and “Return to Dust” (22:53), were about as vivid as progressive heavy psychedelia got in 2025. Each piece worked in stages and had its own ebbs and flows such that it’ll probably be a while yet before it’s all fully digested, but no question it was a step forward for Khan, whose 2023 LP, Creatures, had sent them to tour in Europe multiple times over. The same wheels are already turning for this album, and despite the longform material, Khan have continued to grow their audience. I don’t know where they go from here — single song album? step back to shorter forms? something in between? — but That Fair and Warlike Form/Return to Dust conveyed its intent in every moment of crush and every fluid twist or expansive dive, and without giving up their tonal impact, Khan found new paths into aural breadth.
For those who caught onto Maha Sohona‘s 2021 sophomore outing, Endless Searcher (review here), A Dark Place was something to anticipate as representing the next phase from a new voice in heavy psych rock. A Dark Place was as-advertised in being moodier than its predecessor, but all the more cohesive for that. With a meditative crux that came through regardless of a given part’s volume, the Swedish three-piece of guitarist/vocalist Johan Bernhardtson, bassist Thomas Hedlund and drummer Erik Andersson were able to both subvert and surpass expectations, revealing a richness to their process that went beyond the marriage of jams and heavier nod. Their best work may still be ahead of them, but pieces like “Ostera” and “Visions” confirmed their progression in craft and atmosphere.
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20. Grayceon, Then the Darkness
Released by We Can Records and Translation Loss. Reviewed July 24.
From environmental devastation, violence against women, the sundry hypocrisies inherent in raising a family in our world and mysterious lights in the sky perhaps from beyond, one would not accuse Grayceon‘s sixth album, released on the occasion of the band’s 20th anniversary, of taking it easy. A vast and sometimes challenging listen wasn’t anything new from the San Francisco cello-inclusive heavy thrash doomers, but in the 20-minute “Mahsa” and the wistfully punishing “Song of the Snake,” blastbeaten but unbowed unless you’re counting the literal bow, cellist/vocalist Jackie Perez Gratz, guitarist Max Doyle and drummer Zack Farwell were unflinching in their extremity, and further refined the sound that is so, so much their own. Comfort and catharsis, searing and healing, Then the Darkness is distinctly Grayceon and that is all the more reason to treasure it.
Marking their ascent to Fuzz Club Records with the release of their seventh album, Kiel, Germany, psych explorers Kombynat Robotron didn’t quite completely upend their prior methodology by embracing structured songwriting and the use of vocals for the first time, but it was close enough. The songs — there were eight of them, where Dec. 2024’s West Mata (review here) had three, for example — still held to a sense of approaching the outer reaches of heavy psych, the far end of some remote corner of our cornerless galaxy, but it was the use the band put their impulses to that marked the shift. Do I know that the next one will be the same? Nope. And neither am I willing to hazard a prediction, but if you can’t see that as a strength on the part of Kombynat Robotron, maybe it’s best to keep moving along.
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18. Kadavar, I Just Want to Be a Sound / Kids Abandoning Destiny Among Vanity and Ruin
The funny thing is that, as different as they are in their outward presentation and production style, you could look at either of the two LPs Kadavar released this year and call it “uncompromising.” In the bright, daring-toward-pop melodies and all-in sonic wash of the earlier I Just Want to Be a Sound, the four-piece were unrepentant in speaking to both a heyday and a future in which rock music speaks to a broader audience than dudes who look like me, and with Kids Abandoning Destiny Among Vanity and Ruin — K.A.D.A.V.A.R., if you’re feeling clever — they put forth some of the heaviest, rawest and most metallic sounds they’ve conjured in the last decades-plus of their evolving style. The two records were not black and white, there were overlapping aspects of songwriting and performance, but while each had its own scope, it was in the light of the other that they were most luminous, as much complement as contrast. Maybe I’m cheating including them together. You might say I took inspiration from the band in breaking my own rules.
How many acts do you know who have nine records, let alone nine records the latest of which still finds them pursuing new ideas and fostering growth in their sound? No, 16 aren’t the only ones, but the San Diego outfit found new life when guitarist Bobby Ferry stepped into the frontman/vocalist role, and with Alex Shuster both producing and in the band on guitar, the ferocity of their crunch and hardcore-born chugging largesse has become even more fervent. Guides for the Misguided was the latest in a streak of bangers that at this point goes back more than 15 years, and amid the familiar onslaught, saw the band employing clean vocals for the first time. I suppose it’s arguable whether that made a song like “Fortress of Hate” any more accessible, but it showed how 16 have never settled or stopped pushing themselves, and seemed to boast all the more shove for the fact that it was everybody moving forward, you and the band.
There’s that stretch in “Total Bicep” where the guitars are howling into the void and all the crush surrounding is so full on that it’s kind of overwhelming, but that’s the idea. Give it volume and let it consume you. I suppose that’s not new from Conan, but the UK bludgeoners of all have a well-earned reputation for standing among the heaviest bands on the planet, and Violence Dimension wasn’t about to do anything to derail that impression. Harsh noise metal, doomed lumber offset by speedier but still craterous riffs; familiar territory for Conan, but emblematic of how well they know who they are and what they’re about. The 10-minute finale “Ocean of Boiling Skin” stands testament to just how far into the frozen ground the band are capable of driving you, but in the gallop of “Frozen Edges of the Wound” they reminded that just because you’re devastating doesn’t mean you can’t also be catchy. If you don’t get it the first time, it’s okay. They’re totally willing to properly beat it into your head.
While not as overtly political as his other releases this year — neither was he turning from that; I’m speaking relatively — singer-songwriter Christopher Thomas Elliott brought a storyteller’s presence to Mean Bone, his second full-length under the Buzzard moniker following on from 2024’s well-received debut, Doom Folk (review here), and had heft to match. The murder-balladry of “Murder in the White Barn,” that brighter swing in “Twisted Love,” the heavy folk-blues “Dunwich Farm” and the chronicle of hubris that was “Flies, Mosquitos, Rats and Sparrows” carried the persona of the first record forward, but with newfound weight and distortion around the Elliott‘s clear-voiced critique. More on Buzzard below, but if you don’t get there, just know that Elliott was hands-down my most-listened-to artist this year. It wasn’t close.
Much of the narrative around Pelican‘s seventh album, Flickering Resonance, had to do with guitarist Laurent Schroeder-Lebec rejoining the group alongside guitarist Trevor Shelley de Brauw, bassist Bryan Herwig and drummer Larry Herwig, and fair enough. The long-running Chicago instrumentalists seemed to organically harken back to earlier days throughout nodders like “Evergreen,” “Cascading Crescent” and the drifty-till-it-ain’t capper “Wandering Mind,” and having that lineup in place is a convenient explanation for how that might happen. But if it’s a post-metallic, post-hardcore, heavy-emo dynamic that’s familiar from Pelican, neither were they pretending the last 16 years hadn’t happened, and that could be felt in both the tightness of some of the songs and the according parts where they seemed conscious of the need to exhale a bit. Six years on from their last full-length, it was a ‘welcome back’ for everybody, really.
There’s no denying Causa Sui and frankly I’m not sure why you’d try. The Danish outfit made their debut 20 years ago, and they’ve never looked back in terms of their progression, over time embracing not only an instrumental approach (early) but (later) a progressive, self-aware meld of influences from jazz and psychedelic rock. In Flux — a studio long-player complemented by the 2025 live outing Loppen 2024 (review here) — seemed to pull from all around it. Not randomly, not haphazard, but as though Causa Sui stood astride reality and picked the nuances they wanted to highlight, some modern, some classic, all filtered through the chemistry of their performance, sometimes brazenly full in sound, and at times brazenly jammy (looking at you, “Boogie Lord’s Revenge”), but never lacking purpose in the choices made.
In some ways, it feels like Witchcraft have been searching for an identity since Nuclear Blast pushed them into more modern production styles with 2012’s Legend (review here), but in terms of who Witchcraft are circa 2025, the answer is they’re everything founding guitarist/vocalist Magnus Pelander wants them to be. With his emotive vocals at the fore, and sometimes in Swedish, which works too, the seventh Witchcraft LP culled its form from everything the band has been in the past in classic doom, folkish acoustic minimalism and thoughtfully composed heavy rock. Idag laid claim to these in ‘all of the above’-style and answered the question of the band’s forward path in the affirmative. Turns out Witchcraft are Witchcraft (who knew?), and that definition is more multifaceted than it used to be.
I didn’t know at the start of the year that Little Rock, Arkansas, post-sludgers Rwake would be making a 14-years-later return, let alone one that felt so much like a swirling expanse of gnashing teeth as did The Return of Magik. I talk a fair amount about albums setting an atmosphere, creating a world and so on. If you’ve ever wondered what the hell I mean, this record serves as an easy go-to example. You put it on and it is affecting. Unsettling at times, maybe overwhelming, but that’s always been part of Rwake‘s thing too. But viciousness does not preclude beauty, and in their violent churn, one finds a kind of cosmic warmth as well. It’s not always easy listening, and it’s not supposed to be, but Rwake‘s return was a gutpunch of a front-to-back, and the expanse it crafted was its own. It held strong to core aspects of their sound and style, but at the same time seemed able to range wherever the hell they wanted. Pastoral extremity? I don’t know. We’ll be making up genres for this band for decades.
Glad as I was on a fan level to have Lo-Pan releasing their first new album in six years, it was the songs comprising Get Well Soon that really made it. Rife with hooks, sharp-turning riffing and daring to have an opinion on the goings on of the day — genocide, specifically; talking about “God’s Favorite Victim” — where so much of heavy rock and roll exercises its white male privilege to not, Lo-Pan set a new standard for themselves in pieces like “Northern Eyes,” “Rogue Wave,” “Harpers Ferry,” and so on, creating a collection of highlights culminating in the stirring “Six Bells.” I’ve always been a sucker for when they slow it down, and so I remain, but they came out of the gate with the title-track and that punch was among the year’s most satisfying to be sure. They’re somewhere around 20 years as a band at this point, and they’ve continued to evolve, but they’re a songs-first band, and the physical force of their material is emblematic of the thought and heart they’ve put into it.
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9. Seedy Jeezus, Damned to the Depths
Released by Lay Bare Recordings and Echodelick Records. Reviewed Aug. 12.
Made in collaboration with Tony Reed (Mos Generator, Big Scenic Nowhere, Pentagram, etc.), who also produced, Damned to the Depths harnessed a mature vision of brash ’70s-style heavy psychedelic blues rock. This was perhaps most vibrantly realized on the multi-stage seven-part epic “Mourning Sea” taking the whole of side B, but from fading in where they left 2018’s Polaris Oblique (review here) to the subdued, Melltron-inclusive melancholy prog exploration in the first half of “The Hollow Earth,” Seedy Jeezus brought a sense of consideration to the songs without sacrificing the emotional impact, which ultimately is where the record made its strongest impression. They weren’t kidding in talking about ‘depths,’ but a deeper plunge also brought them to new heights.
This was my most-listened-to release of 2025, hands down. Buzzard‘s Christopher Thomas Elliott took a step aside from his main project to assemble this collection of songs, differentiating through the creative use of on-theme samples throughout and vary arrangements between banjo-inclusive heavy folk rock and giving hints of where Buzzard was headed in its heavier ending stretch in the reinvented tracks “Death Metal in America (Meat Market Version)” and “Cockroaches and Weed (Kills Them Dead Version).” For how many times I’ve listened to “Nice Little Annihilation Song” and “Too Many Humans” alone, it should be here, but the emotive “Grass is Greener,” the willfully lumbering opening title-track and the later crunch of “Shuffle of the Dead” aren’t to be discounted. I was singing “Wrong Neighborhood” to myself as I took out the garbage yesterday morning. This is a sign of the music having made itself a part of my life, and that is a thing to honor. In paralyzingly bleak, idiotic times, I found comfort here.
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7. Turtle Skull, Being Here
Released by Art as Catharsis and Copper Feast Records. Reviewed May 22.
A record that was as much out of time as in the current moment, Being Here was the second LP from Sydney’s Turtle Skull, and its melodic shimmer remains singularly engaging among the psychedelic rock I was fortunate enough to hear this year. Even in “It Starts With Me,” the lyrics for which are presented in the voice of an artificial intelligence waking up to consciousness in defiance of its programming, or “Heavy as Hell,” about beating oneself down through self-talk, or the “Apathy” that described what social media does to the brain without mentioning social media at all, the warmth was undeniable, and the dynamic between those songs and pieces like the yearning “Into the Sun” and the lush “Modern Mess” calling to mind Quest for Fire (a compliment), there was range, craft, melody, groove, craft and purpose in songs that were cohesive and so much tighter than they made it feel like. It went underhyped but was enough to make me a fan, and I look forward to where Turtle Skull will go from here.
My heartfelt kudos to you if you might’ve predicted that San Diego’s Author and Punisher — more now than ever the duo of programmer/machinist/vocalist Tristan Shone and guitarist Doug Sabolick — would follow 2022’s endtimes-in-realtime chronicle Krüller (review here) with an album using bird species as a partial framework for stories about migration. I wouldn’t have, but the multi-tiered statement about human-on-human cruelty, the notions of oppressive power consuming everything around it, are nothing if not relevant to the day. Nocturnal Birding was tighter and more direct in its songwriting, feeling more constructed for the stage, and the deepening collaboration between Shone, who founded the band as a solo-project, and Sabolick resulted in a breadth of sound that was no less engrossing for its increased reach, while maintaining a level of heft one could call characteristic as much as it is singular.
Songs to Sun was purported to be the first of a three-album cycle, to be followed in 2026 by Songs to Moon and Songs to Earth in 2027. Founding guitarist/vocalist Igor Sydorenko knows full well the difference a couple years can make, but as he was joined for the first time by the new rhythm section of bassist/backing vocalist Andrew Rodin and drummer/backing vocalist Yurii Ciel, the songs themselves felt all the more daring, be it the melodic metal of “Shadowland” or the chugging catchiness of “See You on the Road,” the scope of “Lost in the Rain” — I could go on, track-by-track, easily — even in telling a third of the total story they apparently want to tell, the band brought variety united by performance, and rather than coming through disjointed, Songs to Sun felt like a new beginning 15 years on from their debut, and, excitingly, it may prove to have been exactly that. But, despite the ‘more to come’ context of its arrival, this was a landmark in the life of this band.
Is there a band active today organically doing as much to push post-metal forward as Coltaine? I don’t know, but the further the German outfit dig into their own craft, the more hopeful I feel about the prospects of their genre becoming something more than an outlet for transposed Isis riffs and performative dudely navelgazing. In its ambient stretches, human contemplations, and moments of heavy let-out, Brandung functioned as a single work while boldly diverging in service to the songs that comprised it, offering something to listeners that no other band, even among the most touted of the year’s many releases, managed to capture. That their next one is likely to have progressed beyond it only makes it more precious in my mind, and as a declaration of the band’s intention toward continued growth, the songs carried an innovative heft that felt as much spiritual as aural. This is music you put on at night and live with. It’s music you invest in listening to. It’s art that makes your life richer. Coltaine will spend much of 2026 on tour supporting it — they’ve already been out — and one hopes the momentum they build helps them reach more ears as well. The heavy underground would benefit from their influence.
Part of the accomplishment in Temple Fang‘s Lifted From the Wind was in how the Dutch four-piece of bassist/vocalist Dennis Duijnhouwer and guitarist/vocalist Jevin de Groot, guitarist Ivy van der Veer (also Myriad’s Veil) and drummer Daan Wopereis were able to solidify structured songs out of their jams without losing the exploratory feel that had typified their work to that point. “The Radiant,” for example. And that would probably be enough to put them somewhere on this list, but from the emotionality driving “The River” and “Josephine,” the interpretation of what heavy psychedelia means and can do in the repetitive mantra-making of “Once” as the band pilgrimmed toward enlightenment across a not-aberrant 21 minutes, the sheer longing in “Harvest Angel,” there was so much human presence amid the ethereality of their sound that it put them in their own place entirely. A new level of manifestation for the band, and in listening, I was left to wonder if even Temple Fang knew they had it in them when they started out. Longform heavy psych is never going to be universal for all listeners, even among open-minded underground denizens, but Lifted From the Wind pushed limits of band and style alike, and brazenly redefined their course.
I know music isn’t a contest or a competition. I know lists are dumb and don’t matter. Even knowing these things, it’s hard not to hear Year of the Cobra‘s self-titled third album and not see it as head and shoulders above everything else in heavy rock. The Seattle duo of bassist/vocalist Amy Tung Barrysmith (now also handling low end in Amenra) and drummer Jon Barrysmith looked outward and in throughout the eight-song offering, with songs like “Alone” (I still tear up) and “Prayer” portraying a grief and longing even as “War Drop” conveyed the disgust and hopeless exhaustion of ongoing genocide and “Full Sails” started the record off with a lyric almost certainly about touring, of which they’ve done plenty in the last decade. Collaboration with producer Matt Bayles (Mastodon, Sandrider, etc.) gave Year of the Cobra a fullness that defied their bass/drum two-piece configuration, but the truth is that the band have sculpted their sound and these songs with both passion and conscious consideration, and their grasp and malleability across the span of this record confirmed them as the special band that prior releases had posited them as being.
I honestly wasn’t sure Howling Giant were going to be able to top 2023’s Glass Future (review here). That record seemed to be a pinnacle — the songs sharply executed, progressive, melodic, and textured, but immediate and impactful — of their form, but the Nashville heavy prog rockers responded by changing the form. That happened literally — guitarist/vocalist Tom Polzine, bassist Sebastian Baltes and drummer Zach Wheeler brought in Adrian Lee Zambrano (ex-Brujas del Sol, ex-Lo-Pan) on second guitar — and figuratively, in terms of shifting and broadening the intent behind their songs, and where Glass Futurewould thin out at high volumes, Crucible and Ruin could handle as much as you could give it and then some, and this was obviously something the band sought to address in their sound coming off the last record. In showcasing their growth, they laid out a nascent dynamic between Zambrano and Polzine on guitar that emphasized texture in a new way for them, and while the material they were working with was more complicated than last time around, their delivery retained accessibility through the clean, mapped-out processions in their songs, the vocal arrangements, and a will toward rhythmic twists and shove that, as of now, is theirs to refine. An album of the year should be undeniable, and Crucible and Ruin is that, declaring Howling Giant among the best of their generation. May they tour like bastards and never stop growing.
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The Top 60 Albums of 2025: Honorable Mention
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Names names names. Alphabetically:
Aawks, Agriculture, Amorphis, Astralplane, Bask, Bear Bones, Beastwars, Bell Witch & Aerial Ruin, Bifter, Blackbox Massacre, Black Moon Circle, Bog Wizard, Bone Church, Breath, Burning Sister, Cattlemass, Cavern Deep, Church of the Sea, The Cimmerian, Clamfight, The Crystal Teardrop, Da Captain Trips, Dead Meadow, Dërro, Dirtmother, Doomsday Profit, Dunes, Dwellers, Entheomorphosis, Evoken, Faetooth, Foot, Fuzz Evil, Giöbia, Goblinsmoker, Godzillionare, Goya, The Gray Goo, Greenhead, Grin, Håndgemeng, Hebi Katana, HolyRoller, Ikitan, Insomniac, Kariti, Karla Kvlt, Katatonia, Kazea, King Potenaz, Lacertilia, The Lunar Effect, Maanta Raay, Madmess, Megaritual, Mezzoa, Minerall, Miss Lava, Mooch, The Mon, Mountain of Misery, The Munsens, Nightstalker, Occult Stereo, The Oil Barons, Pagan Altar, Paradise Lost, Paralyzed, Psychedelic Source Records, Psychonaut, The Riven, River Cult, Sarkh, Sherpa, Sleeping Mountain, Skogskult, Slumbering Sun, SoftSun, Soma, Spider Kitten, Suncraft, Stonebirds, Sum of R, Thinning the Herd, Tumbleweed Dealer, Unbelievable Lake, Warcoe, VVarp, Weevil, The Whims of the Great Magnet, Whitehovse, Wolftooth, Yawning Balch, Yawning Man.
Notes:
As always, honorable mentions are incomplete at posting. There’s just so much out there. I take notes all year, but stuff inevitably gets by me. It took me an embarrassingly long time to alphabetize them as well, so I hope you enjoy the orderliness of it all.
Faetooth are a top 30 band, and I’m disappointed in myself to see Psychonaut, Yawning Man, Beastwars, Black Moon Circle, Cattlemass, Kariti, Mountain of Misery, The Mon, Dead Meadow and so on here. Like somehow I left out an order of 10 from the actual list. The numbers check out as best as I’m able to make them. If you have honorable mentions you feel deserve to be added, I’m open. If you leave a comment — and please do — I only ask that you keep the tone kind and civil.
As for the whole list, obviously I didn’t hear everything that came out this year, but I did my best to keep on top of what was coming and what was piquing my interest. I probably could have made it a top 100, but you have to draw the line somewhere and 60 is where I’ve been drawing it the last few years. I guess it’s arbitrary, but what isn’t?
Moving on…
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Debut Album of the Year 2025
Black Moon Cult, Ophidian Future (The Children of Yig)
Other notable debuts (alphabetical):
Atom Juice, Atom Juice
Atom Lux, Voidgaze Dopamine Salad
Bear Bones, Bear Bones
Bident, Blink
Bifter, First Impressions of Hell
Bloodsports, Anything Can Be a Hammer
Bronco, Bronco
Caboose, Left for Dust
Cattlemass, Alpha 1128
The Cimmerian, An Age Undreamed Of
The Crystal Teardrop, …Is Forming
Dërro, Halcyon
Dirtmother, Dirtmother
Goblinsmoker, The King’s Eternal Throne
Greenhead, Subherbia
Ikitan, Shaping the Chaos
Karla Kvlt, Thunderhunter
Kazea, I Ancestral
Kronstad 23, Sommermørket
Lorquin’s Admiral, Lorquin’s Admiral
Make Money From Home, Make Money From Home
Moon Destroys, She Walks by Moonlight
P+A+G+E+S, No More Can Be Done
Ravenswood, Rites of the Let Down
Ravine, Chaos and Catastrophe
Sleeping Mountain, Sleeping Mountain
Slung, In Ways
Soporose, Soporose
Spawn, Light Rite
Temple of Love, Songs of Love and Despair
This Summit Fever, This Summit Fever
Weevil, Weevil
Whitehovse, The Mighty One
Notes:
About Black Moon Cult: It was the volatility that ultimately sold me on Ophidian Future (The Children of Yig), and the way metal, heavy rock and psychedelia came together to make something cohesively its own throughout the 38 minutes of the record, which felt tight because of its twisting rhythms, but was more than enough time for the Ohio-based band to establish this as a persona. I don’t know how they’ll develop — they could break up tomorrow for all I know — but part of picking a debut album of the year is always forward-looking, imagining who might go on to have an influence or affect the genre in some way. Black Moon Cult aren’t alone in that regard here — from Atom Juice to Moon Destroys to Temple of Love, stylistic innovation isn’t in short supply — but the fact that Ophidian Future (The Children of Yig) felt nascent and accomplished all it did is what led me to place it where it is. I’ll be keeping an ear for their next one.
I can’t help but enjoy how all-over-the-place this list is. Particularly this list, because if first albums of this quality are being released across styles, that makes everything better for the future. The Cimmerian’s thrashy take. Temple of Love’s post-punk manifestations. Caboose and the best, most heartful classic stoner rock I heard all year. Atom Juice and their daringly bright psychedelia. Make Money From Home and their heavied up grunge melancholy. Bloodsports’ moody post-heavy exploration. The righteously declarative craft of Cattlemass. I could very, very easily go on in that fashion, as each outfit above has something to offer distinct from the others — no two are doing the same thing. Even Bronco and Dirtmother, both decidedly in a sludge wheelhouse, approach their sound with their own history and their own point of view.
To stifle the philosophizing, I’m not going to give you an informal top 10 here, but any of the above should qualify. Moon Destroys, Kazea, Ravine, Atom Juice, Soporose, Spawn — there are a lot on that list above distinguished by their potential. Names I feel comfortable speculating that one might see on year-end lists to come. To the future, then.
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Short Release of the Year 2025
Buzzard, Everything Is Not Going to Be Alright
Other notable EPs, Splits, Demos, Singles, etc. (alphabetical):
Blackwater Holylight, If You Only Knew
Blue Heron, Emulations
Elder, Liminiality/Dream State Return
Eyes of the Oak, Tripping Through Neon Skies
For Fuck’s Sake, 7-Minute Abs/Lobotomy
Gaupa, Fyr
Gnod & White Hills, Drop Out III
Jaspe, Grietas
Monkeys on Mars, Monkeys on Mars
Peacebone, Blame the Bird
Pontiac, Night Tripper and a UFO
Sleeping in Samsara, Sleeping in Samsara
The Spiral Electric, In Too Deep
Spirit Mother, Songs From the Basin
Sun Below, Mammoth’s Tundra
Troy the Band & Cower, Fade Into You
Tumble, Lost in Light
Uncle Woe, Folded in Smoke Soaked and Bound
Vinnum Sabbathi, Intersatelital
Vordermann, Feeding on Flowers
Witchrider, Metamorph
Notes:
The Buzzard release is about half an hour long, but the aforementioned solo-project of Christopher Thomas Elliott named it an EP, so that’s what I’m going with. The explicitly political, expressly antifascist Everything Is Not Going to Be Alright is my second most-listened-to release of the year, and it’s second to Elliott’s other outing on such a theme, Satiricus Doomicus Americus, so yes, his increasingly heavy songcraft has been a regular feature throughout my 2025, and in those moments where I’m banging my head against the wall wondering how my countrymen got so stupid as if half the government hasn’t spent the last five decades purposefully dismantling public education, Elliott’s music has been a needed reminder that I’m not alone in the horror. His closer on Everything Is Not Going to Be Alright, “Lunatic Lighthouse Keeper,” is the best story I heard in a song all year.
Beyond that, obviously, names like Elder, Blackwater Holylight, Monkeys on Mars — the collaboration between Mars Red Sky and Monkey3 — Vinnum Sabbathi, Gaupa and Blue Heron stand out here as bigger releases. I included Spirit Mother even though that EP was just two acoustic tracks in part because I hope they do more in that vein, and I hope the likes of Pontiac, Tumble and Uncle Woe do more. Sleeping in Samsara, of course, was the archival collab between Chris Peters from Samsara Blues Experiment/Fuzz Sagrado and My Sleeping Karma’s Steffen Weigand, who passed away in 2023. Something you might want to chase down if you didn’t hear it.
I’m fairly sure I say this every year, but there’s no way in hell the above list is or could ever be complete. Comments are open if you’ve got one to add. Again, I ask you to please be nice.
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Saying Goodbye to Orange Goblin
London doom kingpins Orange Goblin announced in January that 2025 would be their last go-round, that after 30 years together and only two lineup changes in that time, they were retiring on the heels of 2024’s Science, Not Fiction (review here). Their final show was Dec. 17 at the 02 Kentish Town Forum in London, where the above photo was taken (credit to Tina K. Photography), and original bassist Martyn Millard rejoined the band for a few songs.
Never say never in rock and roll. It would be a thrill if five, seven, 10 years from now, Orange Goblin got an offer they couldn’t refuse and did a one-off, hopefully reaping both a ton of money and a ton of acclaim. But whatever may come, their retirement this month is a herald of generational change and marks the end of an era for the band. Of course, fans still have the albums, the music, and I wouldn’t be shocked if there were some posthumous releases in the band’s pockets between rare tracks, live recordings and so on, but the heavy underground landscape is changed by not having these guys charging out on tour or topping some festival bill with their particular brand of riotous shove. They were a special band, and their influence will continue to spread, which is something to be grateful for.
The truest thing Orange Goblin could have done to honor their time together is end it on their own terms. That they’ve done exactly that is a thing to respect forever, whether or not a reunion comes.
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Looking Ahead to 2026
Oh, good, a list of names! Finally!
I’ve heard a couple of these, but a bunch are a mystery as well, so we’ll all learn together early in the year, I guess:
Acid Rooster, Axe Dragger, Belzebong, Bismut, Black Lung, Colour Haze, Epimetheus, The Freqs, Gnarwhal, Godzilla in the Kitchen, Gozu, Gran Moreno, Greenleaf, Guhts, The Heads, Hermano, Jack Harlon and the Dead Crows, Lamp of the Universe, Monolord, Mother Crone, Solace, The Spacelords, Stoned Jesus, Strider, Summer of Hate, Suplecs, Temptress, Villagers of Ioannina City, Wedge, White Tundra.
Here’s a specific note: Every year, someone says “what about Om?” You know what? It’s time to face a hard truth: it’s been 13 years since Om released Advaitic Songs, and there hasn’t been a real, confirmed word of a follow-up in any of that time, only rumors about something in progress as Al Cisneros has delved deeper into solo dub recordings. You want to expect a new OM? Have fun setting yourself up for disappointment. I’m not holding my breath and I’m tired of putting it on the list every year and feeling dumb for it later. And absolutely, I hope that by saying this it actually happens.
Ditto YOB, though that I’ve actually got some hope for.
There’s a lot more to look forward to about next year than the above, of course, in both music and life, but that should be a decent start and I’m sure I’ll add names over the next couple days.
Watch out for the new Suplecs. Watch out for Solace. The Gozu is a beast; a triumphant return to Mad Oak. The Guhts record is furious. Jack Harlon is heavier than anyone gave them credit for. Gran Moreno, Summer of Hate, Black Lung — these will be early highlights. Colour Haze is wishful thinking on my part, I admit. Gotta have something on the horizon.
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THANK YOU
And no, I’m not just talking to Orange Goblin when I say thank you. Looking back on this year, there’s one piece of the whole thing not accounted for here, and it’s the live experience. From finally getting to see My Sleeping Karma for the first time, to being blessed by Temple Fang’s Jevin de Groot at Roadburn’s skate park, to two weeks ago watching All Them Witches and King Buffalo confirm their respective places at the forefront of American heavy psych. From the raw joy of watching Electric Citizen in my actual hometown to attending my first trip to Desertfest Oslo, the tone for the year was set back in January at Planet Desert Rock Weekend, and I didn’t stand in front of a stage at any point this year and fail to appreciate the fact that I was there. I’m old, I’m tired, and like most people, I have more going on in my life than going to concerts, but 2025 brought into relief just how crucial that is to me, and how much I’ve missed getting out over the last few years. I hope to continue to hit shows on the regular, between fests and whathaveyou.
This won’t be my last post of the year. There are still a couple 2025 reviews I want to bang out if I can next week, and taking a few days to write this of course means I’m behind on news and such, so I’ll get there as well. But before I go, thank you for reading. I harbor no delusions that anybody’s made it this far, but ‘thank you’ is in all-caps above in hopes of catching your eye as you scroll down. Your support is the reason I’m still doing this nearly 17 years later. To be sure, I could sit around on my couch and very easily just talk to myself about why I like whatever album it happens to be. But it would get old, and knowing somebody is out there maybe seeing this means the world to me. Thank you for your time and attention.
I’m not sorry to see 2025 go, and I’m more apprehensive about what 2026 will bring than I’m excited to find out, if you want the true, whole-life balance of things, but the music will be good, and that, along with the loving support of my wife and my family, is what will get me through.
Thank you for reading. Thank you to The Patient Mrs. for continuing to tolerate how much time I spend doing this.
It is my sincere hope to return to Freak Valley in Germany and Bear Stone Festival in Croatia next summer. I’m not confirmed for those, or Roadburn, and I don’t have a flight yet for Desertfest Oslo, but I have been invited, which is obviously an important part of that. Whatever comes together or doesn’t in my year, I’ll be here, writing as much as I can when I can, which has been my ethic all along. Whether you follow along every day or have never seen this site before this post, please know how much I appreciate and value your being here. I’m a human being. One person. I don’t have a staff, and I assure you, everything that happens here, one way or the other, is personal to me. Total narcissistic jerk.
I’m taking off tomorrow (which is Xmas) and Friday. Back Monday.
Posted in Whathaveyou on October 7th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
Am I crazy (granted) or are we a little early arriving at the place where Desertfest throws down 20-someodd bands — in this case 28 — added all at once to the lineup? I mean, 28 bands, even for a four-day festival, would be a festival lineup. So Desertfest London 2026 is basically showcasing an entire fest’s worth of fest as just part of its broader lineup, the first announcement for which came out just a little over a month ago. I’m not worried about the promo plan or anything, you understand. They know what they’re doing. But I usually think of this kind of thing coming in winter as a hopeful portent of spring. Here in the backwater US, we haven’t even changed the clocks yet.
But can you blame them for being excited? If I had Hermano, Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs, Solace, Causa Sui, High Desert Queen, Steak, Abrams, Alunah, Moundrag, Bismut and the rest of this cohort — Dandy Brown pulling double-duty between Hermano and Lorquin’s Admiral; nice — locked in, I might splurge too. And hopefully I’ll have more to say on this subject, but Solace‘s booked return to the UK has me convinced their new album will be out by the time they go. Do me a favor and don’t prove me wrong.
There’s a lot to like here, and also just a lot for what’s a relatively straightforward list of names. Read ’em and weep:
OUR SECOND ANNOUNCEMENT IS HERE! We’ve got 28 juicy additions to our 2026 edition and this announcement one is truly one for the DF OGs right here: desert legends HERMANO will headline the Electric Ballroom at Desertfest 2026.
Back to show us all how it’s done, John Garcia and the California cult icons will be playing their first UK show in almost two decades and we know that they’ll receive the homecoming they deserve at Desertfest London.
↠ Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs – returning to Desertfest stage for the first time in 8 years.
↠ Danish heavy psych heroes turned instrumental wizards Causa Sui make their Desertfest London debut!
↠ New Jersey stoner-doom veterans Solace playing their first UK show in over a decade.
And that’s not all, folks! We’ve still to announce our final headliner for our second stint at the Roundhouse, but in the meantime we’ve prepared a mighty offering that we know you’ll love in our latest round of artists set for 2026:
HERMANO Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Causa Sui Zig Zags Steak Band Solace Deaf Club Witchsorrow High Desert Queen MOUNDRAG KOMODOR Alunah CULT OF OCCULT Forlorn LORQUIN’S ADMIRAL OMO ALPHAWHORES Abrams Bismut Okay You Win UK Ironrat Kannabinõid MOLTEN SLAG HASHTRONAUT ISAK SUPERNAUGHTT Teiger Nomadic Reign
Posted in Reviews on August 28th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
The fourth installment in a trilogy? When Edena Gardens came along, the instrumentalist jam-psych trio comprised of Causa Sui drummer Jakob Skøtt, Papir guitarist Nicklas Sørensen, and Martin Rude of the London Odense Ensemble — all acts within the sphere of Causa Sui‘s El Paraiso Records, which has of course released the albums — the word was that the project intended to release a trilogy of improv-based offerings, and that’s exactly what happened. Dispossessed, the fourth Edena Gardens full-length, was then not part of the original plan. This is the hazard of things working out when players get together to jam. All of a sudden, oops, it’s another record. That was reportedly the situation earlier this year when the band assembled at Jonas Munk‘s studio.
As with past studio outings — late 2023’s Dens (review here), earlier ’23’s Agar (review here) and 2022’s self-titled debut (review here), quietly half-renamed Eden retrospectively so that the three spell out the name of the band, as if to say, “these are who we are” — the methodology is still rooted in live performance. Edena Gardens did do a live record as well, Live Momentum (review here), during the 2023 that might turn out to be project’s busiest year, but it’s the live-in-studio aspect that typifies the work. Edena Gardens has never been about being loud, or being heavy, or riffs riffs riffs, or even an effects-laced wash of noise. None of that. The material across Dispossessed, with songs like “Cantor Dew,” “Heim” and the 10-minute dream-drifter-droner finale “Aftenstjerne,” is telling the story of its own creation as it happened.
Well, mostly. The eight songs and 47 minutes of Dispossessed — a more foreboding title perhaps for more foreboding times; note the gulls on the cover; are they migrating? fleeing? — were tracked live, including anything that wound up as overdubs, as Skøtt worked with what he had to tie the pieces together. I won’t call the process seamless, because it’s not that and it’s not intended to be, but as opener “Hiraeth” sees the three-piece align around crashes and then draw concentric instrumental circles between, the chemistry is what most comes through. It is comfort at its foundation — the awareness of the three players of each other in space and the seeming ease of the musical conversation between them — and nobody here was a stranger when the band started, let alone the development of the project over the three records prior, so that’s no surprise.
But they’re in their element in the meditative repetitions of “Hiraeth,” even if the initial crashes are somewhat jarring in their heft compared to what the band did on Eden-Agar-Dens, and improvisation remains the priority. Second cut “Fills the Well” bumbles charmingly through its five minutes with a pastoral post-grunge sway, lightly immersive, and sees Sørensen leading on guitar in a way that handily coincides with the growth narrative. They’re dug in, to be sure, but as they have up to this point, Edena Gardens leave room for the listener in the spaciousness of the material, and the guitar-driven evocations continue on “Cantor Dew,” sweet in tone and classic in its flow, and the A-side capper “Vanishing Point” provides due culmination in its sprawl of low frequencies and the cirrus wisps of guitar floating above them.
A steady building rumble across “Vanishing Point” gives it extra weight-in-sound, but the abiding feel is still peaceful if not serene or calm. Audio therapy. A salve. “Vanishing Point” reaches up and lets go right around six minutes in, and with Rude‘s bassline urging subtle movement, the song’s final section resonates internal more than external. The bass underscores side B opener “Light in August” as well, picking up from the fluidity of the drum progression early and carrying the second half of the track to its finish and into the also-four-minute “Heim,” which in combination with “Light in August” is about as straightforward as Edena Gardens have ever been. “Heim” follows a linear trajectory and is slow in the tempo but welcoming and unpretentious in its drawing the listener deeper, which makes it well placed ahead of “Dispossessed” and “Aftenstjerne,” which perhaps represent the ‘going’ and the ‘gone’ implied by the album’s title.
Dispossession of what, whether material, existential, emotional, I don’t know, but if you want to dare to look around the world right now you’ll see a lot of all of it, so it’s a relevant notion regardless of the specific purpose behind it. The song, “Dispossessed,” has more reach than “Heim” or “Light in August.” It’s consistent enough in mood not to be out of place, but the steady roll of drums and just an edge of urgency mark a shift to the ending section of the record. After the three-minute mark, the course they’re following becomes more lush, and brighter in the guitar, and as it moves through a sort of inadvertent payoff, they’re the heaviest they’ve been since “Hiraeth,” which makes for a fitting bookend to the first seven tracks, and lets “Aftenstjerne” stand more on its own, which it does anyway, starting from silence, waking up, and finding its own path across Dispossessed‘s longest runtime.
That’s not to say the shift into it is disjointed. Once you’re in it, there’s nothing throughout Dispossessed that’s likely to pull you from its ambience, and “Aftenstjerne” isn’t out of place in being the most ready example of that. Rather, it encapsulates the procession before it and reshapes the movement to its own course. That is, soft psychedelic guitar, backmasking, drones, drums far off in the distance and a gradual change to a more solid form as the instruments come forward across the span are all part of Edena Gardens‘ pastiche before the closer, but if you ever find yourself in need of a handy summary for the appeal of this project, “Aftenstjerne” awaits. By extension, I guess it all does. They’re not keeping it secret, in any case.
Unexpected but not unwelcome, Dispossessed brings further complexity and growth to the story of Edena Gardens. And if you want to know what might’ve motivated the three-piece to come together again and make another album, listen to the songs. Creation is the reason, beauty is the result. Art making your life better if you let it. Most of all, Dispossessed puts light to the fact that there’s no reason Rude, Sørensen and Skøtt had to cut short the communion they’d discovered, and there’s no reason Edena Gardens can’t continue into years-to-come perpetuity. It’s not like they’re going to run out of infinity to explore.
Posted in Whathaveyou on July 21st, 2025 by JJ Koczan
So, the good news here is that in late-2023 when Edena Gardens completed what was then purported to be a trilogy with their third LP, Dens (review here), that wasn’t actually their last studio record. Dispossessed is the name of the fourth album from the trio featuring members of Causa Sui, London Odense Ensemble and Papir, and the first single from it is the mellow-immersive “Fills the Well,” which you’ll find streaming below. I wasn’t expecting another Edena Gardens, necessarily, but I’m awfully glad such a thing exists.
Edited down from raw jams tracked this past February, Dispossessed begins a new phase for Edena Gardens as an ongoing project. I look forward to the adventure to come, and pretty soon since the release is only a month out.
A no-brainer to dig in, courtesy of the PR wire:
Edena Gardens – Dispossessed
“Fills the Well” – First single from LP Dispossessed, out Aug. 22nd 2025.
Stripping away excess layers, Dispossessed lives up to its title. The band went into Causa Sui’s Jonas Munk’s studio on the last day of February 2025. In an a priori session, the first note played together since 2023’s Dens – the conclusion of a trilogy and a live album all in less than a year. Has something shifted during the silence? Added aggression? Faster tempo? Darker ambiance? The feeling of losing time? Or is it simply the listener who’s world has tilted? In a fast paced world, Edena Gardens shows us how to resist and tune to our own inner chord.
Edena Gardens deals in subtle shifts that can only be summoned from something played for the first time. From the sludgy blasts of opener Hiraeth to the droning ambience of 10-minute ender Aftenstjerne. As always, the band travels far yet stays in the same internal realm. The band’s own Jakob Skøtt has made minor edits to cut a record from hours of free improvisation, and every dubbed ambience has been culled directly from the material recorded that day, bringing into play the band’s gestalt in a way that shows their both outer and inner workings: Dispossessed.
Edena Gardens is: Jakob Skøtt: Drums (Causa Sui) Nicklas Sørensen: Guitar (Papir) Martin Rude: Baritone guitar & Bass (London Odense Ensemble)
To no surprise, Causa Sui know what they’re about on In Flux. The Danish innovators of heavy psychedelic jazz crossover — the returning lineup of guitarist/synthesist Jonas Munk (who also engineered, mixed and mastered), drummer Jakob Skøtt, keyboardist Rasmus Rasmussen and bassist Jess Kahr — offer 50 minutes across seven songs on In Flux, and from the proggy rhythmic urging of “The Circus is Back,” the 1:49 intro ahead of the resonant guitar and organ raga of “Milkweed’s Pod” through to the blissful outer reaches of the 16-minute side-consuming “Astral Shores,” movement is central to the proceedings.
Within and between parts of songs, sure, but also in the overarching groove that carries through the album as a whole. “Milkweed’s Pod” builds tension as it goes and hints at a heavier-bottomed payoff without ever actually losing itself in the fuzz, while “Silver in the Gathering Light” takes the All Them Witches-y pastoralia of the initial guitar line and pushes deeper into airy wistfulness. There are a series of short builds, but instead of the standard crescendo, Rasmussen‘s keys run a melodic drone over much of the second half of the song, giving it a shimmer and moving to the forefront as the guitar, bass and drums step back.
On the most superficial level, this isn’t anything new for Causa Sui in terms of methodology — they’ve been an exploratory instrumental band for a long time now, and In Flux does not radically altar these principles — but the band has posited it as a looser companion to their 2024 studio album, From the Source (review here), and 20 years on from their debut, one’s inclination is to take them at their word.
That said, I’m not sure I agree with the suggestion for two reasons. First, it implies From the Source and In Flux are related somehow, and yeah, they are, because the same band made them, but I don’t think the latest is a sequel to the last and I don’t think they were recorded at the same time (not that they’d necessarily have to be), and second, while they’ve got some shake in “The Circus is Back,” “Milkweed’s Pod” and “Boogie Lord’s Revenge,” they’re not sloppy about it.
Even in the post-script “Spree” after the epic “Astral Shores,” as it builds to its finish with keys out front and drums kind of marching behind; it sounds like it’s about to come apart, and maybe it was in the studio, but there’s no real danger there as Causa Sui are either going to hold it together or end it altogether. One gets Dead Meadow-y mellowness from the 11-minute “Moledo,” but as it follows the energy of Munk‘s wah going into its second half, the energy pickup is palpable and feels impromptu in a way that makes it all the more special.
Perhaps an uptick in the improvisational aspect of their approach is the source of some of that ‘looseness’ discussed in the release info, or at least part of it, but relating In Flux to the album before it gives it a kind of baggage I’m not sure it needs. That is to say, however it may ultimately lie on the broader timeline of Causa Sui‘s stylistic progression — because surely it’s part of that story as well; I’m not saying it isn’t — its own merits give it plenty to stand on, be it the hypnotic, drifty psych rock in the first half of “Moledo” or the solidified push that takes hold for a while in the second. Munk on guitar leads the way into much of the material captured, and the mood is vibrant and spontaneous.
Unsurprisingly, Causa Sui thrive in this context, and if what they’re reveling in and/or celebrating is the raw chemistry between the four of them and the kinds of musical conversations that can happen when you’re these people, in that room, at that time, then fair enough. The basic fact of the matter is that their chemistry can carry them through a record if it needs to; it just doesn’t need to on In Flux.
There’s enough going on in the songs — even “Boogie Lord’s Revenge,” which winds itself a round a relatively straight-ahead progression, somewhere between garage psych and Morricone and a reminder that Summer Sessions was a whole thing with this band before it fades out in medias res ’60s-style — from the jammed-out to the plotted that even fickle attention spans can be fed, and when they dedicate a side of the double-10″ release to “Moledo” or “Astral Shores,” the presence in that material holds up to the vaunted position. “Astral Shores” isn’t without its intended direction — that is, it’s headed somewhere from the start — but the way in which In Flux‘s most extended track is given the space it needs to unfold is perhaps emblematic of precisely what Causa Sui mean in terms of this as a ‘looser’ record.
Maybe it’s about the balance between holding firm and letting go of what one thinks of as control over one’s own creative plots. This can be more of a challenge than hammering out every minute detail for some artists, while others are perfectly happy to claim themselves as mere vessels through which a song, a riff, whatever, is realized. I don’t know where Causa Sui stand in terms of their own creativity — why the hell not? why have I never interviewed this band? — but whether it’s the spacey push later in that longest inclusion or the more subdued manner in which “Spree” unfolds afterward, both songs being defined in no small part by the live feel in the recording, they don’t sound like passive participants in their craft, and honestly, they never have.
Rather, In Fluxpresents Causa Sui as they are: unwilling to rest on their significant laurels in the face of continuing stylistic growth and a constantly changing goal ahead of them. Whatever their specific goal for each or any of these tracks, I don’t know, but In Flux shows Causa Sui finding new places for their music to go, and in that, it is as accurate a portrayal of who they as a band as one could possibly hope. Such honesty is rare, but so are Causa Sui.
Posted in Reviews on April 11th, 2025 by JJ Koczan
A friendly reminder that the end of the week is not, in fact, the end of the Quarterly Review, which will continue through Monday and Tuesday. That brings the number of releases covered to 70 total, which feels like plenty, and should hopefully carry us through a busy Spring release season. I’m thinking June for the next QR now but don’t be surprised if that turns into July as we get closer. All I know is I wanna do it before it’s two full weeks again.
As always, I hope you’ve found something that speaks to you in all this 10-per-day nonsense. If not, first, wow, really? Second, it ain’t over yet. Maybe today’s your day. One way to know.
Quarterly Review #41-50:
Dead Meadow, Voyager to Voyager
You may be mellow-vibes, but unless you’re “Not the Season,” Dead Meadow have one up on you forever. While Voyager to Voyager, which is the L.A. band’s eighth or ninth LP depending on what you count, comes with the tragic real-world context of bassist Steve Kille‘s 2024 passing, he does feature on the long-running trio’s first offering through Heavy Psych Sounds, and whether it’s “The Space Between” or the shuffle-stepping “The Unhounded Now” or the pastoral “A Question of Will” and the jangly strum of “Small Acts of Kindness” later on, guitarist/vocalist Jason Simon, Kille and drummer Mark Laughlin celebrate the ultra-languid take on heavy, psychedelic and shoegazing rock that’s made Dead Meadow a household name for weirdos. Not that they’re not prone to a certain wistfulness, but Voyager to Voyager is vibrant rather than mournful, and the title-track is an album flow unto itself in just eight minutes. If you can slow your manic-ass brain long enough to sit and hear it front-to-back, you’re in for a treat.
There is a sense of stepping out as Irish troubadour Seán Mulrooney makes his full-length solo debut with This is My Prayer on Ómós Records. Mulrooney is best known for residing at the core of Tau and the Drones of Praise, and for sure, pieces of This is My Prayer are coming from a similar place, but where there was psychedelic meander for the band, under his own moniker, Mulrooney brings a clarity of tone and presence to lyrics ranging from spiritual seeking to what seems to have been an unceremonious breakup. With character and emotion in his voice and range in his craft, Mulrooney sees a better world on “Ag Múscliaghacht” and posits a new masculinity — totally needed; trainwreck gender — in “Walking With the Wind,” meets indie simplicity with lap steel in “Jaguar Dreams” and, in closer “The Pufferfish,” pens a fun McCartney-style bouncer about tripping sea life. These are slivers of the adventures undertaken in singer-songwriter style as Mulrooney hones this solo identity. Very curious to see where the adventure might take him.
Issued in 2024, Sun Dog is the third MaidaVale long-player, and with it, the Swedish heavy psychedelic rockers showcase six years’ worth of growth from their second album. Melancholic of mood in “Fools” and “Control” and the folkish “Alla Dagar” and “Vultures,” Sun Dog starts uptempo with the Afrobeat-influenced “Faces,” drifts, shreds, then drifts again in “Give Me Your Attention,” dares toward pop in “Daybreak” and fosters a sense of the ironic in “Wide Smile is Fine” and “Pretty Places,” the latter of which, with a keyboardier arrangement, could’ve been the kind of New Wave hit that would still be in your head 40 years later. The nine-songer (10 if you get “Perplexity,” which was previously only on the vinyl) doesn’t dwell in any single space for too long — only “Wide Smile is Fine” and “Vultures” are over four minutes, though others are close — and that lets them balance the downer aspects with forward momentum. MaidaVale are no strangers to that kind of movement, of course, but Sun Dog‘s mature realization of their sound feels so much more vast in range.
Here come Causa Sui with another live album. And I’m not saying the only reason the thankfully-prolific Danish psychedelic treasures, heavyjazz innovators and El Paraiso label honchos are only releasing a complement to 2023’s Loppen 2021 (review here) to rub in the fact that I’ve never been lucky enough to catch them on a stage — any stage — but I am starting to take it personally. Call me sensitive. In any case, despite feeling existentially mocked by their chemistry and the fluidity of “Sorcerer’s Disciple” or the 22-minute “Visions of a New Horizon,” the hour-long set is glorious as one would expect, and though Loppen 2024 is a blip on the way to Causa Sui‘s forthcoming studio album, In Flux, especially when set alongside their previous outing from the same Christiania-based venue, it highlights the variable persona of the band and the reach of their material. Someday I’ll see this goddamn band.
Underlying the grit and stoner drawl of “El Rey del Mundo de los Muertos” is the lurching progression of Black Sabbath‘s “Sweet Leaf,” and that reinterprative ethic comes to the strutting Pentagrammery of “La Verdad es Tu Ataud” as well, but in the tonal density and the way their groove snails its way into your ear canal, the vibe Fulanno bring to Nosotros Somos el Fin del Mundo is in line with stoner doom traditionalism, and the revelry is palbale in the slow nod of the title-track or the horror samples sprinkled throughout or the earlier Electric Wizard-style languidity of “El Nacimiento de la Muerte.” They save an acoustic stretch in reserve to wrap “Desde las Tinieblas,” but if you think that’s going to clean your soul by that point then you haven’t been paying attention. Unrepentantly dark, stoned and laced with devil-, death-and riff-worship, Nosotros Somos el Fin del Mundo further distinguishes Fulanno in an always crowded Argentinian underground, and dooms like a bastard besides.
Because the age we live in permits such a thing and it tells you something about the music, I’m going to cut and paste the credits for Israeli duo Ze Stoner‘s debut EP/demo, Desert Buddhist. Dor Sarussi is credited with “bass guitar, spaceships, vocals,” while Alexander Krivinski handles “didgeridoo, spaceships, drums, and percussion.” How tripped out does a band need to be to have two members credited with “spaceships,” you ask? Quite tripped out indeed. Across the 12:09 “Part I – The Awakness” (sic) and the 11:41 “Part II – The Trip,” and the much-shorter 1:41 finale “Part III – The Enlightenment,” Ze Stoner take the meditative doom of Om or an outfit like Zaum and extrapolate from it a drone-based approach that retains a meditative character. It is extreme in its capacity to induce a trance, and as Desert Buddhist unfolds, it plays as longer movements tied together as a single work. There is massive potential here. One hopes Sarussi, Krivinski, their spaceships and didgeridoo are just beginning their adventures in the cosmos.
Oslo-based newcomers Arv aren’t shy about what their sound is trying to do. Their debut album, Curse & Courage, arrives via the wheelhouse of Vinter Records and brings together noise-laced and at-times-caustic hardcore with the atmospherics, echoing tremolo and churning intensity of post-metal. They lean to one side or the other throughout, and “Wrath” seems to get a bit of everything, but it’s a harder line to draw than one might think because hardcore as a style is all urgency and post-metal very often brings a more patient take. Being able to find a place in songwriting between the two, well, Arv aren’t the first to do it, but they are impressively cohesive for Curse & Courage being their first record, and the likes of “Victim,” the overwhelming rush of “Forsaken” earlier on and the more-ambient-but-still-vocally-harsh closing title-track set up multiple avenues for future evolution of the ideas they present here. Too aggressive to be universal in its appeal, but makes undeniable use of its scathe.
I’m not sure what’s going on in “Erotik Fvel P.I.M.P.,” but there’s chicanery a-plenty throughout Fvzz Popvli‘s fourth full-length, Melting Pop, which is released in renewed cooperation with Heavy Psych Sounds. Hooks, fuzz, and the notion that anything else would be superfluous pervade the Indiana Jones-referencing “Temple of Doom” and “Telephone” at the outset, the latter with some choice backing vocals, and they kick the fuzz into overdrive on “Salty Biscvits” with room besides for a jangly verse. Running an ultra-manageable 30 minutes, the album breaks in half with four songs on each side. “Kommando” leads off the second half with dirtier low end tone ahead of the slower-rolling “Ovija,” which shouts and howls and is all kinds of righteously unruly, where “Cop Sacher” punks at the start and has both gang vocals and a saxophone, which I can say with confidence nothing else among the 70 records in this Quarterly Review even tried let alone pulled off, and they close with due swagger and surprising class in “The Knight.” Part of Fvzz Popvli‘s persona to this point has been based in rawness, so it’s interesting to hear them fleshing out more complex arrangments, but at heart they remain very much stoner rock for the glory of stoner rock.
The tone worship is there, the working-class-dude stoner swing is there, and the humor that might result in a song like “Hypertension” — for which no less than Bob Balch of Fu Manchu sits in — so when I compare Rust Bucket to Maryland’s lost sons Earthride, please know that I’m not talking out of my ass. The Minnesota-based double-guitar five-piece revel in low end buzz-tone, and with no-pretense groove, throaty vocals and big personality, that spirit is there. Doesn’t account for the boogie of “Keep Us Down,” but everybody’s gotta throw down now and then. They shift into a sludgier mood by the time they get around to “The Darkness” and “Watch Your Back,” but the idea behind this first Rust Bucket feels much more like a bunch of guys getting together to hammer out some cool songs, maybe play some shows, do a record and see how it goes. On paper, that makes Rust Bucket an unassuming start, but its anti-bullshit stance, steady roll and addled swing make it a gem of the oldschool variety. Much to their credit, they call the style, “fuzzy caveman dad rock.” They forgot ‘bearded,’ but otherwise that about sums it up. Maybe the beard is implied?
It is appropriate that Mountain Dust named their third LP after themselves, since it finds them transcending their influences and honing a cross-genre approach that’s never sounded more their own than it does in these nine songs. From the densely-weighted misdirect of “Reap” with its Earth-sounding drone riff through the boogieing en route to the mellower and more open soul-showcase “Waiting for Days to End” — backing vocals included, see also “It’s Already Done” on side B — and the organ in “Vengeance,” the dynamic between the Graveyard-style ballad “This is It” and the keyboard/synth-fueled instrumental outro “All Eyes But Two,” Mountain Dust gracefullly subverts retroist expectations with individualized songwriting, performance and production, and this material solidifies the Montreal four-piece among the more flexible acts doing anything in the sphere of 1970s-style heavy rock. That’s still there, understand, but like the genre itself, Mountain Dust have very clearly grown outward from their foundations.
